My Conversion to Dumb and Dumber

Escapism has always seemed like a strange phenomenon; a denial of reality where one purposely and willfully checks out of a here and now situation into a land of make-believe, while fully aware that the return to the untenable and unbearable is unavoidable.

During the Great Depression, many businesses went belly-up; in small towns with desolate storefronts, the one remaining functional operation was the local movie theater, a source of refuge from the horror of a society collapsing in on itself.

Now the function of fantasy-fare has taken root in my day to day life. No more documentaries on the Third Reich or genocide in Rwanda grace my screen. I search for romantic comedies, culture-clash comedies - in short anything that does not require serious thought or provokes probing questions on the nature of existence.

Escapism has become my friend and now I know why crappy, corny, silly, low brow movies do so well. Prospective filmmakers, gird your loins. It's time to descend into mindless pablum that the masses will need as the insanity of Rumpland takes hold.

Or...meditate?


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