I got stupider in 2017. My stupidity manifests itself in different ways. Sometimes it’s difficulty in processing instructions. Sometimes it’s mangling words. Sometimes it’s this blog. (See “My Therapy Toaster,” September 21.)
For a while, I attributed my new stupidity to my cell phone, its incessant pings and distractions keeping my mind from being still long enough to think creatively or at least remember what I walked into the kitchen for.
But I’ve had a cell phone for a few years, and I never felt especially stupid before now. Oh, I’ve always been stupid but clever enough to get away with it. Now, I feel my stupidity is out there in the open. (See “Giant Louise Penny,” September 14.)
Then I went to see The Last Jedi, the latest instalment in the Star Wars franchise, and it all became clear.
Without giving away spoilers, I liked the film. It took the series in a new direction and undermined certain assumptions about the Star Wars universe. It certainly had its faults, but I was entertained and had popcorn as a meal, which is about all you can ask of an evening out. The biggest flaw I saw was my purchase of a large root beer without considering the absence of a pause button.
Having avoided all reviews and comments prior to the screening, I now took a look. The critics loved The Last Jedi. Fans, however, hated it. Not just “didn’t care for it”or “were disappointed.” HATED it! They hated the movie, hated Disney, hated its “agenda,” hated the new characters, hated what they did to the old characters, hated the director, hated the director’s mother, hated the director’s dog.
On the critics’ side, multiple think pieces defended the film, in some cases clinging to rationalization like the last life preserver on a sinking ship.
But it was the haters who intrigued me, and I found myself drawn to the battlefields of Twitter and its free-flowing rage. Overwrought these fans were. Ye-e-essss! They let the hate flow through them!
To paraphrase these tweets: “The Last Jedi has betrayed my deeply held beliefs in a fictional universe built around a 40-year-old action film!! #hatethelastjedi”
“I hated this movie so much. I hated it even more the second and third time I saw it to make sure I really hated it, which I did. I want my money back, so I can afford to see it a fourth time and hate it even more!”
“I demand that my art conform to all my preconceived notions and never, ever challenge me in any way!!! #deathtothelastjedi”
I’ve strongly disliked movies before (looking at you Forrest Gump) but I’ve never petitioned one to be entirely reshot. I was fascinated by the force (ha!) of anger about something so inconsequential. You’d think these people were Habs fans.
Then I realized that not only was I wasting time reading these angry comments but something more: I recognized that anger.
For the past year, I’ve been feverishly scrolling through my Twitter feed to discover the latest horrible, spiteful, self-serving political misdeeds in the United States, a country I don’t even live in.
I shared and posted tweets. About Alabama. Alabama! I did this because I needed to express my anger, anger that the jerks were winning. I wanted — needed! — that anger reinforced by others feeling the same way.
In other words, for the past year I’ve been like an outraged Star Wars fan, lapping up the snark and sarcasm, wallowing in all that bitterness, ineffectively directing my futile rage, angry that things weren’t going exactly the way I wanted. It wasn’t that spending too much time hating Donald Trump on Twitter was making me stupid. It was the hate itself. All that negative energy echoing back at me was replacing reason, creativity and, in some cases, basic coherence.
I’ve stayed off Twitter for nearly a week now and have limited most of my other social media. I feel smarter already, this post notwithstanding.
This is not to say that, whatever your county, you shouldn’t be paying attention or getting angry at those determined to tear us apart or satirizing them within an inch of their lives. We, after all, are the resistance. But to succeed, we need to be smarter than they are, and we stay smart through creativity and hope. Anger only leads to the dark side.
That’s something else I learned that from Star Wars.
Happy 2018, everyone. May the brain force be with us.
Drinking Tips for Teens 
yes, yes.
I’ve come to much the same conclusion – anger makes me stupid. My anger addiction was/is news site comment sections. For a while I rationalized it as strengthening my rhetorical skills, but as soon as I referred to the president as an “amoral jackwagon”, I knew that was a lie. Here’s to a kinder, more intelligent new year!
Yes, I thought of you, Michelle. Peace!
Yes, people do love to get mad, to tge point where they’re just as mad as the people they’re mad at.
Happy New Year to you Ross. I’m looking forward to Thursdays in 2018.
I don’t want to bury my head but I don’t want it to explode either. Happy 2018 to you, Lynette.
I think hate is unproductive which is why I try to avoid it. I’m more into cynicism, which is also unproductive, but more entertaining and demands a little more of intellectual effort. (This also means that stupidity can stay masked for longer). Also, cynicism doesn’t lead to the Dark Side (seriously? “The Dark Side”, is that the best the Sith Lords in your PR department came up with? Why not “The Freedom Side” or something that would encourage more people to join?)
I haven’t seen the Last Jedi, but I thought Rogue One was the best one so far after the original trilogy, maybe even including the original trilogy which I haven’t seen until at least the 1990 or so, so I’m not as emotionally attached to it as a regular Star Wars fan. Also, possibly because my cynicism played a role there, too.
I tend towards cynicism as well, but it often feels like an admission of defeat. Healthy skepticism…?
I may try Rogue One again. It left me a bit cold.
This new series trades heavily on nostalgia, which is to middle age what love is to adolescence. This new one betrays that nostalgia to a degree. Broken hearts abound.
Yes, cynicism is an admission of defeat, but then anger (at least on social media) is often a refusal to admit defeat while being unable to do anything about this defeat.
But why is it so damn easy to be a cynic? It goes down like a glass of iced tea on a hot August night. Being sunny is an effort for most of us. My mother was a naturally positive. It was no effort for her at all, despite having a tough life. But cynicism? That’s the bright fibers that most of us have.
I hired someone this fall who is the most positive person I’ve ever worked with, and surprisingly is not making me crazy.
There must be something wrong with you.
She has an adorable French accent.
True that.
I had the same realization about Twitter. I deleted my anti-trump account which I created solely to counterpunch with bile and hatred. I realized it was only making me worse and had no relation to making anything better. I’ve largely withdrawn from Twitter as a something that is pretty much pointless and more often than not brings out the worst in people.
I’ve found a lot of links to good stuff on Twitter (McSweeney’s has been on fire this past year) but it’s infinite nature is a time suck, on top of all the negativity.
Insight applied is a wonderful thing – love this post 🙏
Thanks. We’ll see how long I stay clear. At very least, I need a break.
Good for you, Ross! I have the same feeling, and felt that the Star Wars movie I watched this afternoon with my youngest kid made a huge and currently relevant point: you don’t get to NOT feel angry and disappointed by what the universe throws your way, but you DO get to choose your actions in the face of what this aforementioned universe flings at you through the bars of its cage. And it had Yoda, fer cryin’ out loud!! With us always may the force be!
Yoda for the win! Thanks, Bruce.
Linking overblown sci-fi epics and U.S. politics seems appropriate. Present company excepted, too much political commentary is a bog of bitterness, snark, and cheap sarcasm. It’s cynicism and negativity is tiresome. “The Resistance” sometimes seems every bit as real as La Résistance, de Gaulle’s postwar myth-building — a fantasy of a united France of shopkeepers and peasants, valiantly facing down the Nazis. The old folks called it “preaching to the choir” when you only talk to those who agree with you, and denigrate those who don’t. It is not enough to be snide, you also have to have actual ideas of your own. In 2018, I’ll be interested in “show us the plan, Stan” people who want to discuss consensus-building and who don’t think electioneering is a dirty word.
And after all that serious pontificating, I do want to say, that humor and mockery can be potent weapons, so fire at will, Ross Murray.
edit – should be “are tiresome” see, I’m tired and lacking in agreement.
Malcolm Gladwell (that contrarian) did an excellent podcast on, essentially, the impotence of satire. He makes good points, because he’s Malcolm frickin Gladwell. And I’ll be the first to admit that humour lets you cop out; you don’t have to commit to anything but the bit. But I’ve done it both ways. For 11 years, I wrote (mostly) serious editorials for the local paper, and now I only do this weekly column for a different paper. It may not change things, but humour has at least the advantage of skewing the perspective, looking at the world through a funhouse mirror.
Thanks for coming along for the ride, Robert. See you in 2018.
Ross, this was a very strong post. I can’t put my thumb on why, but it really struck a chord with me. Facebook recently admitted that spending too much time on social media can lead to prolonged sadness. That’s like Coke admitting it might not be in your best interest to consume their product. I’ve gotten into the habit of logging on at work and first thing, before any of my other tasks, I check El Presidente’s twitter fead. It’s just so addictively entertaining. But you’re right I should knock it off. I will. I will!
Happy new year, brother, to you and your lovely family. Hold fast.
It’s probably because this one has structure and make an actual point. Pulled out the rhetorical stops!
Trump is a weird itch to scratch. I feel like I’m just making it worse.
Happy New Year to yours as well, Mark!
My favorite quote from a weekend interview with Great Leader from his golf resort. He said President Xi Jinping “treated me better than anybody’s ever been treated in the history of China.”
Can that be possible? China’s been around for a pretty long time.
No. Wait. I changed my mind. THIS is my fav from the same interview. Accused of not knowing the intricacies of the tax bill, he said, “I know the details of taxes better than anybody. Better than the greatest C.P.A.”
🤪
You’re making this up.
If only.
Yes, happy 2018. I avoided your post because we were planning to see it when we got back to the States. Dawn and I debriefed, both pretty disappointed with the film. Not maybe the same ilk as the Star Wars fans you describe, but more due to cliches and…well, I’m not a film critic. It’s making me sound stupid, which I don’t need much help with.
It doesn’t stand up to close scrutiny, but none of them do. Eat more popcorn!
Agreed. I think I’m done with the tropes though.
Wise, you are. Strong, you will be.
I kept an open mind and, like you, had a problem with a few things in the movie. But it sparked discussion with my kids over the following 24 hours and that tells me it was not shallow or devoid of meaning. That’s what we want from a good movie, right?
Anyway, Star Wars fans can be a rabid bunch…your window into the world of Star Wars fans on Twitter is enlightening.
Good point about provoking thought. By comparison, I see a Marvel movie and immediately wipe it from my mind.
Indeed.
Merry Christmas Messages
“It certainly had its faults, but I was entertained and had popcorn as a meal, which is about all you can ask of an evening out.” hahaha. but point taken. anger does lead to the dark side.
And wrinkles, FYI.
I loved that movie, unequivocally. It was a true delight. It was essential Star Wars in a way that the last movie really wasn’t. It broke ground. It took chances. It rocked my world. I do understand the hate, but I think we should remember that the original wave of Star Wars fans is now old. They’re done with new ideas. They want their childhood back – but they’re not going to get it.
As for Alabama and the craziness down south, it’s compulsive watching. I don’t know why I do it, but I do, and perhaps it makes me feel like somehow I really am smarter than the President of an entire country.
I’m that original wave; I just want my forties back.
You are definitely smarter than the president, Trent. Definitely. Hey, great to hear from you. All the best in 2018!
I’m that original wave too! But I’m okay with change and having new stories and directions in that wonderful universe George made. I never through a George would make a universe…
All the best to you in 2018, Ross!