Sadly, the promotional efforts for season 3 of Interview With The Vampire/The Vampire Lestat are ramping up to the extent that I may have to mute the fandom on bsky now. I've already learned one thing I wish I hadn't, and knowing much less about this story (the movie wasn't exactly comprehensive or very memorable), I'm hoping to get hoodwinked and shocked repeatedly. Please wreck me emotionally 🙏
I've reached out to the mod of intw_amc to see if we could maybe host episode reaction posts and whatnot. I'd love to have a spoiler free zone to roll around in with other fans.
Transit ridership in the Seattle area typically reaches its seasonal low in early months of the year as tourists avoid the Big Dark and locals hunker down after the holidays. Sound Transit often uses this time to complete disruptive maintenance and upgrade projects. At a Sound Transit Board committee meeting earlier this month, agency staff presented plans for construction, upgrades, and maintenance requiring disruptions to Link 1 Line service in January and February next year.
Pinehurst Station Construction
Pinehurst station is nearing completion and some remaining tasks require northbound and southbound 1 Line trains to share a single track while crews are working. Reductions in 1 Line service after 7pm on weekdays began earlier this year, but were put on hold in October and November to avoid reduce the amount of service impacts during that time. These disruptions resumed earlier this month and will continue into the new year. Sound Transit says regular service will be maintained during major events, and the nightly service reductions will start after 9pm during the holidays.
In October, Sound Transit announced it would upgrade signal systems in the former Downtown Seattle Transit Tunnel to enable Automatic Train Protection (ATP). This work will continue in January, with closures spanning two full weekends: January 2-5 and January 30-February 2. When the cross-lake connection of the 2 Line opens in 2026, trains will run every 4 minutes through the Downtown tunnel during peak times. The 35-year-old DSTT is the only stretch of Sound Transit’s light rail track without ATP and the upgrade is expected help future high-frequency operations run smoothly.
Monthly Maintenance Program
Sound Transit also began a new Monthly Maintenance Program in October, shutting down service early on different segments of the 1 Line for a few days each month to enable completion of more complicated maintenance projects. Normally, the 1 Line stops operating around 1am and restarts about 4 hours later, but window only really allows about 1.5 hours of productive maintenance work. By ending service around 10pm, the productive work window grows to nearly 4 hours and the agency has used this time in previous months to troubleshoot problems and complete complex preventative maintenance which would otherwise be impossible to finish.
The next monthly maintenance period will be January 13-15, when service between Tukwila/Intl. Blvd and Mount Baker stations will be replaced by shuttle buses after around 10pm. The following month’s extended maintenance will occur February 10-12, impacting service between Mount Baker and Stadium stations.
It's been months— not as many as I thought, though! Somehow in my brain I was like it's been half a year. No, it's only been since September. It kind of tracks though, that's the length of a school semester.
It... wasn't my best semester.
But! On the bright side!
I got my birth certificate from Hungary, so I now have proof that I'm a citizen of a nation within the EU. Even if I did catastrophically bad and failed everything (I didn't, I already have my score back for at least one class and 9.2 is a very good grade) I can't get kicked out of the country now.
Classes for the first semester are done, and I'm back in the UK for Christmas. According to my study schedule I'm about 8 hours behind on where I should be at this point, but said schedule also assumes that I don't do any schoolwork between now and my return to Belgium on the 29th of December, so I should be able to get caught up without too much difficulty. I am feeling pretty pleased with myself for a)having made a realistic schedule for the semester, and b)having pretty much stuck to it - sometimes getting a day or so behind, but never more than that, and occasionally actually getting a couple of days ahead. It's also been quite helpful at times when I've definitely felt as though I was getting behind to be able to look at it and say "No, actually I'm on track to get everything done as long as continue to work at the same rate as I have been doing so far."
I didn't manage to get to the conversation table I had planned for last week, because I stayed up too late the night before and then spent the day translating Ugaritic tablets, which meant I had absolutely no brain left by the evening, but I shall try again in a couple of weeks. I did go to the cabaret on Sunday evening, which counts both as 'doing a social thing' (albeit with someone I already know, which is much less stressful), and 'practising my French' (albeit largely receptive rather than productive).
The big food order arrived this morning, and I've just got two more presents left to buy, and one to finish crocheting, so that's my plan for today, and I think I'll then be basically ready for Christmas. Tomorrow I'm heading to York for the day, to see leonato in "Anything Goes", which should be a lot of fun.
Yesterday after work I did a library run (more Rick Riordan!) on the way to pick up a hire car for the weekend. Then drove with Charles over to Northstowe for the Kodiaks Christmas party at the Northstowe Tap and Social. Secret Santa, noodles buffet, attempting to introduce an American to prawn crackers - she didn't like them - and a drag queen bingo.
I left the party a little early to go to the last Warbirds practice of the year and was so glad to be back on the ice again. (Yes, in shock news, 48 hours after having a massive mood crash about having a cold forever, I was well enough to skate hard for 90 minutes. It is a weird signal, but a consistent one.) It was ten days since my last practice, and it's now ten days until my next one (Kodiaks 2 on 30 Dec). I missed it so much. Practice was just the right level of challenging that I'm really pushing myself but not feeling like a hopeless incompetent, it was just what I needed, as was seeing my teammates again.
(Charles made his own way home from Northstowe by bus)
Tonight is the last Kodiaks 1 game of the year, for which I will be herding the volunteers as usual, and rocking my lovely new manager's coat (incredibly warm knee-length hooded puffer coat, personalised with the club logo and my initials). There is apparently a post-game clubbing plan. And tomorrow morning I'm taking Nico climbing. Somewhere in there I'm sleeping, honest.
I have 2.5 more days to work this year, and I am so ready to be done. The giant Ocado order is booked for Tuesday evening. I have a very large pile of borrowed books to read, and the rink public skate schedule in my calendar. The hot yoga place had a special offer, so I also have a 12-day pass to get me through the lack of hockey practices. They are quite strict about turning up sick, and I still have a bit of a cough this morning, so I won't be using it today. But hopefully tomorrow.
Anyone who wants to play, just make your list before January 1, 2026. You don't have to post the list. But maybe show it to someone else so you can tell them you've done a thing.
You can play here, since this community gathers people interested in goals and resolutions, or in your own blog.
9 years ago I bought Bloodborne as one of my first Playstation games. I was rubbish at it. I'd play for a bit, get stuck on Father Gascoigne, go play something else, come back two years later, repeat.
Today, having not played Bloodborne for months, I thought I'd give the fight a few goes through, to warm up on the game again. It took me at least ten minutes of wandering about to remember what the buttons did.
And then I beat him first time, without it even feeling that hard.
I made mistakes, I nearly died twice, and I'm not sure I *deserved* the win, but for the first time he felt clumsy, and like he was giving me space to breathe, and I wasn't panicking all the way through the fight.
And now I get to play the other 90% of Bloodborne.
(I'm now trembling quite a lot, as my adrenaline levels drop back to a reasonable level. If you'd like to see what the fight looks like, for someone rather better than me, here's an example).
I had a long plane flight yesterday (holiday travel) and decided to try to clear out a little more of my Tumblr prompt backlog before the end of the year.
It's December Days time again. This year, I have decided that I'm going to talk about skills and applications thereof, if for no other reason than because I am prone to both the fixed mindset and the downplaying of any skills that I might have obtained as not "real" skills because they do not fit some form of ideal.
19: Ficcer
On the obverse of the coin that is my essayist self, professional or otherwise, there's the part of me that also enjoys writing fic. The story of the first fics that I remember writing has been told before, in a notebook, with one-page adventures in a spiral-bound notebook that once was threatened with exposure by a sibling if I didn't stop behaving like a younger sibling about things. At least, that's what I remember the threat as. It's the sort of thing that a young child produces, with all of the mixing, mashing, and generally lack of care for things like continuity, acting in character, or good names for the principal actors in the story. It is, therefore, perfect and perfectly fine for a child of the age that produced it.
There is at least one original works-type story from my near-teenage years, or just falling into my teenage years, that I remember basing upon the private-eye narrative style in the Tracer Bullet noir-type stories that Bill Watterson would come back to as a frequent way of showing where Calvin's imagination was at the time. I doubt it even read like a dime-store novel, but the people who were part of the writing workshop seemed pleased with it as a creation of a child of that age, and there were definitely laughs when I read the short story aloud, which was what was intended, since Tracer Bullet is much more a noir pastiche and parody than something that was intended to be taken seriously as a noir work. And I like playing with language when I write. There are phrases that I slip into stories that are allusions and references to other things, whether other stories I've written, or other properties, characters, or artifacts, or just other things in the universe that the fic is stationed in. Nathalie Heartless is a perfect name for a villain of some scope in a Kingdom Hearts/Miraculous Ladybug crossover. Halloween on Centauri Prime where there is the sound of a distant HONK when there are revelers come to do a little mischief on the Imperial Palace (with the Emperor's permission, of course.) The idea that the girl and her fox in Epistory might have been only one of many who came through, including things like a boy and a tiger, or an old man and two birds. That a child of Calvin's might want to change their name into a symbol, like some other famous person who did that. That Lilo watched a movie about whales and a guy who gets into a whale tank to talk to them. Those kinds of things. Little winks and nods that don't detract from the story, but do reward those who have experience with other fandoms with a little Captain America "Ah, I got that reference" moment while they go along.
I set that type of fic aside as I developed other interests and hobbies throughout my high school and university days, but that's with a quasi-asterisk, and I was playing RP forum games, and even tried to play a character or two on some RP games on LiveJournal and Dreamwidth. So, it wasn't that I stopped writing fic, it's that I stopped writing a specific kind of fic, and instead participated in creating works that were part of a braoder universe. Subreality, the Boardieverse (BRIIIIICK!), the QFGC, and the like. With the occasional fic effort all the same, set in those spaces. In a largely text-based medium, textual stories flowed out all the same, just as collaborations, rather than as a single author doing a more defined story work. I suspect similar things are happening these days as well, but they're probably happening in Discord servers, hidden from curious and prying eyes, instead of on mailing lists, phpBB forums, or bulletin board systems (BBSes). Or in MUDs.
Mostly, my return to the type of fic that I started with coincides with collecting an AO3 account and then using it to sign up for a pinch hit for an exchange, and then from there, basically doing a lot of exchange signups. Many authors, but I remember hearing this specifically from Seanan McGuire, who may have heard it from elsewhere, say that the imposition of constraints is what gets creativity to flow. This is true for me. Left to my own devices, I often flounder, but if some idea or constraint or exchange prompt comes along and gives me some parameters to work with, then the ideas start happening and eventually I can come up with something that works and I can post. I could say that means I'm not very creative on my own, but that would not be truthful. I'm plenty creative, I just am better as a riffer than as a whole cloth creator.
I didn't come back to the form of fic that I started in until gathering up an AO3 account and doing so to participate, somewhat timidly, as a pinch-hitter, and then a participant, in various exchanges. I'm not usually someone throwing themselves wholeheartedly into new fandomms, nor necessarily following along with the most popular ones at the height of their popularity. I don't engage with media mostly for the possibilities of what fic I could make out of it, but I do find that enough stories leave holes, gaps, and room for interpretation for a lot of the things that fic covers, or there's a reasonably clear path for me to take from where the canonical version of something is to the version that's been requested. Sometimes I write fix-its out of spite. Sometimes people say that it's foolish of me to do so, because it was obvious the way things were going to go from the foreshadowing, which rather misses the point of a lot of fic writing. Sometimes I wriite something because there was a pun sitting there that needed using, and the only way to get it out is to craft a story around it. And sometimes there's got to be a story behind things, and nobody says what it is, or there's more stories to be told than the canon was allowed to tell.
I think fic helps keep my brain moving on things, and having a few different projects in the works at any given time also helps me when my brain doesn't want to work on one thing, but will want to work on another. It's the presence of the neurochemistry that I have that I like to have something to do at all times. Being bored and without something to do is not helpful for me. Meditation is different than boredom, since meditation is about paying attention to now, and trying to pay your entire self's attention to now, rather than being at loose ends about what to do with your time, or thinking about all the other things that you could be doing with your time. Or, worse, being on call for someone who will call at some arbitrary time, but otherwise will make you wait until they call, so you don't have the ability to pick up and put down various things, or do things that will take a short amount of time and then come back to being attentive. That becomes worse when the person who expects you to be on call expects you to be on call now, rather than "will you find a pausing point and attend, please?"
This is not to say that the process of writing fic is easy and all the words flow smoothly from beginning to end. This doesn't happen for essay work, either. Having multiple projects going at once means that if I get stuck on one, I can backburner it for a bit, let my brain work on it in the subconscious, and do something else where the words are coming more easily, and eventually get back to the thing that has the block. Or write some other scene anachronically that needs to be there and come back to the problem once I've figured out what the end point looks like, or what needs to go in between to get from one point to another. It's also nice to draft most of these things in text editors, rather than word processors, because I don't have word processors trying to help me, and because if I do it in a text editor, I can also just drop the semantic HTML in and not have to do any changes to it to get it ready for posting. (Because I'm so used to Dreamwidth and AO3 and other such things, I think in HTML. And a little bit in Markdown, but I kind of like being able to handle everything directly rather than needing to have something get interpreted back to me. I do like that Markdown strives to be readable even if it's not being rendered in HTML, so I should probably be a little kinder to it, but I don't always have a markdown parser or interpreter handy for when I'm doing things, and it's just faster at this point to go directly.
Fic-writing helps me relate to the fandoms and things that I'm in, by giving me a platform to work on, and people who might be appreciative of the work that happens there. It's nice to build a little bit of community with my writing. I tend to approach fic writing and fandom more like a storytelling situation, rather than an opportunity to play with the dolls, if that makes sense? Nothing wrong with fic writers who are up for any excuse at all to make their blorbos do stuff, or kiss people, or more, but I find that I have trouble writing things that don't have at least a minimally cohesive plot. It doesn't always have to be very fleshed out, but I work best in fic when I can see a clear reason why a character is doing this thing that I want, or a clear reason why this character would be interested in this other person. Which sometimes means I write other people's crack pairings, because I look at it and go, "Yep. I know exactly how that would work, regardless of how well it would work in canon." I like being able to make something that I would enjoy reading. That others do as well is important, but not quite as important as me creating something that I would want to go back and re-read. If it doesn't meet my taste, I won't be as happy with it as I could be. It's pleasantly surprising to occasionally get a comment on something that is older, and re-read it, and find that I still like it. And while I like "number go up" as much as everyone else, being on the exchange circuit, and often writing for fandoms that are older or pairings that are rarer, I know that the numbers that are going to be associated with any given work will be much smaller than they might be for catching a megafandom in its height. My most-everything'd work basically did that, and it was something I wrote for the joke at the end, and it struck a chord with the fandom. I doubt I'll write anything else that gets that kind of numbers. If I wanted to base my self-worth on the numbers I was doing, I probably would have left fic writing altogether. And possibly essaying as well, just because I am unlikely to ever become the biggest fish in the pond, regardless of the size of the pond. I'm not the kind of person who wants to tailor my content to the engagement algorithm, so I will never have influencer contracts or sponsored posts, or, for that matter, anyone who would throw money into a Patreon or similar for access to my writing before everyone else gets it. I don't need it, and I think there are better places for the people who would likely become a patron of mine to put their money. If some rich billionaire decided that I should have a million-dollar monthly stipend just to keep turning out what I'm turning out, sure, I'll take that, but most people are passing the same twenty dollar bill around to whomever needs it the most that month, and that's a far better thing to do than spend it on me.
That, and I prefer to keep my own schedule of when I post and to where. Having to do it for money would probably sour me greatly and make me worry when inevitably I didn't have an idea in time for the patron line. (I fall more on the idea that fandom should be a gift economy, for the practical reason of the less money changing hands, the less legal problems that follow that money, and also because I think that everyone should already be given what they need to have a fulfilling life, so they wouldn't need to turn their creative output into something that makes them money.)
You can read my work and judge for yourself as to whether I'm prolific, good, bad, or someone to avoid. All I ask is that if you don't like it, use the back button and pretend you never saw it. If you do like it, please leave at least a kudos, if you have the spoons and desire to. (Comments are lovely, but they're additional work.)
I made another appointment with the eye surgeon and went in this afternoon. I told her about the theory of my pupil getting bigger than the opening in the capsule, but she said no, it looks clear, she doesn't see any obstruction with the pupil enlarged, and my pupil isn't that big. Good to know! All sorts of variations in bodies.
I have been paying attention to when it's worse and tried to describe the direction of it but she didn't seem interested. She did honestly say she didn't know the cause, which I appreciate. Dry eye was her best theory, although I don't know why my eyes would suddenly be so much drier than before the procedure.
She offered to refer me out, so I have another name, and we'll see if I can get in to see him. I suspect I'm just going to have to live with it, but I'd at least like a better understanding of what changed.
Fifteen years ago the Red Barn was an elderly, falling apart mess. I swapped board for work on it. In general Tom did a great job, but he wasn't an electrician. That is why, when he moved the electrical panel from the north aisle onto the west wall of the barn he made a mistake. I had laboriously pounded in a ground stake on the west wall for the fence charger. Tom appropriated it and turned it into the ground for the whole electrical system. This issue has produced weird reading and unreliable electric fence, but it was never -quite- bad enough for me to fix. This week it came up on the to-do list, mostly because last week Lily noticed a snapping noise of the system making the sheet metal on the barn live. Oops. I turned the system off. If I had to fix the darn thing I might as well move it too. My plan has been to move it 50 feet back to the rear of the barn. There is an existing electric outlet I could plug into at the back there but it is in quite an exposed place in the southeast corner. That bothered me. It never dawned on me that I could move it to the northeast corner which is quite protected. Finally a couple of days ago the idea finally surfaced. Duh. Yesterday Donald and I removed the wire that had been causing the problem and replaced it with a much better insulated one. To be fair, the problem with the first wire was a manufacturers defect, but. The new wire will now take signal from the back of the barn and bring it to a junction that services the front pastures instead of taking signal from the front of the barn and feeding the pastures in the rear and to the north. Today I drilled some holes, pushed conduit through and tapped into a light in tack room #4. Tomorrow I need to finish running conduit down to a new outlet box. Cody has already come and used his motorized pounder to install a 8 ft rod. The ground there is terribly rocky. We got the stake 6 1/2 feet into the ground and hit a BIG rock. 6 1/2 feet will have to do as a ground stake for the fence charger. The manuals say that ground stakes have to be about 25 or 30 feet apart to be counted as separate. This is 70 feet, so it should work. Next is 2 more short pieces of pipe, an outlet box and connecting the wires. It will be really good to get this project done.
There was, to be clear, nothing very comforting at all about the 2008 global economic crisis. It was a deeply messed-up time, and even if one was not in danger of losing one’s home in the mess, the reverberations of the collapse of the US housing market echoed through people’s lives in strange and unexpected ways. In my own, there is a line of dominos that goes from the collapse of the housing market to me walking away from a contract for a five-book YA series in early 2009. I was pissed about that, I want you to know. But I assure you that what I experiences was a glancing blow compared to the very real hits lots of other people took. People lost houses. People lost jobs. People’s lives were ruined. And, apparently, no one saw any of this coming.
No, one, that is, but a few finance dudes who, in the mid-2000s, looked at how mortgage-backed securities were being put together by banks and financial companies, realized they were a time bomb waiting to happen, and did what finance dudes do — figured out a way to make a shitload of money when the timebomb went off. These men (and they were all men) were not heroes or good guys. They made money when everyone else had the ground beneath their feet crumble into dust. They did by betting on the misfortunes of others. But no matter what else happened, they did see it coming when no one else could see it, or, more to the point, wanted to see it.
The Big Short is based on the book of the same name by financial journalist Michael Lewis, who, it must be said, has had enviable success in getting his books turned into films; aside from this, his books Moneyball and The Blind Side found their way to the big screen as well. Those books had an approachable hook in that they were about sports as much as they were about money, and everyone (in the US, at least) knows about baseball and football. For The Big Short, the question was: was there actually an audience for a movie about mortgage-backed securities? And how would you find that audience if there were?
Director Adam McKay, who previous to this movie was best known for a series of funny-but-not-precisely-sophisticated films with Will Ferrell, including Anchorman and Step-Brothers, had a two-step solution for the problem of making trading interesting. First, he absolutely packed the film with big names: Brad Pitt. Steve Carell. Christian Bale. Ryan Gosling. That’s a pretty stacked cast right there. Second, any time he had to explain an abstruse financial concept, he gleefully broke the fourth wall and had some other incredibly famous people tell you what the concept was, in a way that didn’t sound like a bunch of boring exposition. So: Anthony Bourdain using fish soup to explain collateral debt organization, Selena Gomez making bets in Las Vegas to elucidate credit default swaps, and, most memorably, Margot Robbie in a bubble bath, explaining how mortgage-backed securities worked in the first place.
Yes! It’s a gimmick! But it’s a gimmick that works to give everybody watching the information they need to know to keep watching and understanding what happens next. McKay has the characters in the main story break the fourth wall every now and again as well, to let the audience know when the story on the screen deviates from what happened in real life, or, in the case of Ryan Gosling, to act as the narrator for the story. This could be obnoxious but it mostly works, largely because the story being told is, actually, gripping.
Why? Because it’s about the end of the world, economically speaking — a financial collapse so big that the only other economic collapse in living memory to compare it to was the Great Depression of the 1930s. Financial folks were taking mortgages, the unsexiest and presumably most stable of financial instruments, and finding new and ever-more-risky ways to repackage them as investment properties, aided by greed and a regulatory system that either didn’t know how to evaluate these risky securities, or, equally likely, simply didn’t care to look. By the time we enter the picture, a few years before the collapse, the downsides are there if someone wanted to look.
The people who looked were Michael Burry (Bale), a clearly autistic nerd running a hedge fund who pored through the numbers and saw the inevitable; Jared Vennett (Gosling), one of the first bankers to look at Burry’s numbers and figure he was right; and Mark Baum (Carrell), who takes a meeting with Vennett, hears his pitch about the collapse, and decides to see how far down this mortgage-backed securities hole goes. Later on we meet Charlie Geller and Jamie Shipley (John Magaro and Finn Witrock) two small-fry fund managers who stumble upon Vennett’s pitch and then recruit Ben Rickert (Pitt) to get them the access they need to make their own short bets. All of these folks with the exception of Vennett are total outsiders, and when all of them come around to buy their shorts, every bank and financial firm is happy to take their money, because they think they are fools.
The thing is, none of these people were just working on a hunch. Burry looked deep into the numbers, while Baum had his people go down to places like Florida, where extremely risky mortgages were being written up, specifically so they could be shoved into, and hidden by, these securities that were allegedly low-risk investment opportunities. These scenes in the movie, where exotic dancers own five homes and are unaware how much risk they’ve exposed themselves to, renters are shocked to find their landlords aren’t keeping up with their mortgage payments, and mortgage underwriters simply do not give a shit who they give a loan to, are like a punch in the face. We see what Baum and his people see: all these people are screwed and there’s no way out of an economic slide into the abyss.
Mind you, not everyone understands it in the same way. When Geller and Shipley manage to wrangle a series of shorts on some exceptionally risky loans, they start dancing and pumping their fists thinking about their little victory — until Ricket makes it extremely clear to them what the cost of their being right is going to be. What? Consequences? Yes. Consequences.
We all know how this ends: The housing bubble collapses, century-old banks go under, foreclosures shoot through the roof, and the Great Recession misses becoming the Second Great Depression only by the smallest of margins. There is wreckage, and all of the main characters in this movie get their payday, although in some cases, it’s a near thing indeed. They get what they wanted, and not a single one of them is happy about it.
Damn it, Scalzi! I hear you say. This movie is depressing as hell! How can you say it’s a comfort movie? Because ultimately it’s about smart people doing smart things. These people don’t get where they end up in the movie because they’re lucky, they get where they end up because they of all people are willing to actually pay attention to what’s directly in front of them. They’re not just going with the flow; they understand the flow is actually an undertow, and it’s going to take everything down with it. And because no one else in the world wants to or is willing to see, then they’re going to do what’s available to them: Make some money off it.
Again: This does not make them good people. It makes them opportunists. Baum, at the very least, seems to be appalled by it all, not that the opportunity exists, but that it exists because other people can’t see the disaster they’re helping to make. He seems genuinely angry that people really are just this stupid. He still shoves his chips onto “collapse,” like everyone else in this film.
Here is the film’s implicit question: Even if any of these guys had screamed to high heaven about the risk of collapse, who would have listened? They weren’t going to do that — these are not those guys — but if they did, would it have mattered? The banks and the regulators and the financial gurus were all on board for everything being great. And there were Cassandras, people who pointed out that these securities were primed to explode, and just like the actual Cassandra, no one listened. If you could yell at the top of your lungs and still no one would give a shit, what’s left? As an investor, either find some part of the market that’s going to weather a global collapse, or short the crap out of it and fiddle while everything burns. We know what these guys did. What would you do?
The Big Short changed the career of Adam McKay, who walked away from this film with an Oscar for screenwriting and a license to make movies that aren’t just goofy (his films in the aftermath of this one: Vice, about Dick Cheney, and Don’t Look Up, about the actual end of the world). Good for him. I would like to say this movie also served as a warning about the dangers of blind and heedless capitalism, but look at the AI Bubble, where seven tech companies, all besotted by “AI,” are 40% of the S&P 500’s market capitalization, and are sucking the US dry of energy and water. The look at the current state of the housing market in the US, where in most states buying a home is unaffordable on the average income, and tell me what we’ve learned. The tell me whether the people running the country right now are equipped to handle the collapse when it happens, or will just try to short it themselves.
This movie isn’t a comfort movie because it has good people or a happy ending. It’s a comfort movie for one reason: Some people actually can see what is going to happen before it all goes off the rails. It’s comforting to know that in this, one is not alone.