Reviews

I started this blog (and (rather defiantly) named it "Try and Stop Me"), because whenever I see anything, read anything, hear anything, I tend to regale (read: bore) my friends and loved ones with my opinions on said item.

Given that, I can't believe it's been a couple of months since I regaled/bored about anything. It's certainly not been that I've had no opinions in those months...yet I've not felt (quite so) compelled to foist 'em.

Part of me wonders why that is; and yet another part wonders why I (or anyone) would ever think of expounding upon anything, given a world that is subjectively perceived through these eyes only, parsed by my cold-firing brainstem only; recapitulated through these sticky fingers only.

I mean, why would anyone -- anyone! -- care about my thoughts re: "Narnia" or "Forever Odd' or the Winter Olympics? Given that some people actually think that "Married with Children" was something other than drek, it's clear we don't all think or perceive alike. So why bother to read a review, much less write one?

Reading someone else's review can -- sometimes -- help me decide whether to see a particular movie...but unless I completely know and trust that reviewer -- and unless I have previously found their taste and sensibility to be fairly lockstepped with my own -- it's rarely of much use. Reading a review of a movie I've just seen is equally non-edifying, usually. When I agree with the review, the review simply restates what I already believe, which doesn't really help me....and when I disagree, the review itself is simply (in Tedworld) relegated to the (huge) psychic crap pile.

Yet I read 'em anyway....probably because (I suspect) it engenders a feeling of community. It's nice to think that someone else loves "The Princess Bride" or "Charly". It's comforting to know that someone else is completely mystified by professional wrestling. When someone mentions that they think "Bye Bye Birdie" was an evil plot hatched upon Broadway for the express purpose of making audiences stupid, like some theatrical terrorist plot, I want to be their friend for life.

So why do I write 'em? Do I think I'm always right, or that anyone would/should care? Oh, no, no, no. Not at all.

I have learned that -- for me alone -- I like the process of formulating a review. It engages my brain about the movie/book/cd/show/event I've just experienced, which enriches the worthy experiences in my memory, and helps defang the (manifold) drekky ones. So writing a review becomes a sort of personal thing -- an adjunct to my journal, a thing done for me.

And yet. And yet....do I want someone to read these reviews? Yeah, I do....and I wonder why.

So. I'm (as best I can) re-committing to produce reviews. They're a part of me....and read or unread, I (mostly) like doin' 'em. Coming soon will be reviews of Dean Koontz's "Odd Thomas", and "Narnia", and "Spellbound", and "Will and Grace" and "My Name is Earl" and the Winter Olympics.

Try and stop me.