Jan 14, 2010

Moronic Depression

You know what? After thinking about it a little more in depth, I now totally empathize with the people who come back from watching Avatar in 3D feeling depressed.
Mind you, they are not depressed by the fact that the movie they just saw is a rehash of every other bad movie they have ever seen, but with goggles and blue people; or that it cost an obscene amount of money and made even more, or that from now on every single fucking movie is going to try to be and do the same.
They are depressed because Earth (in which they supposedly live) is not like Pandora and they want to live in Pandora.
That happens to me all the time when I go to the movies. I get depressed that I will never have Clive Owen, or be Penelope Cruz (and have Javier Bardem), or win an Oscar or have someone's amazing legs or even their plastic surgeon/trainer/stylist/photoshop artist. It's very depressing.
Yet heroically I forge on and cope with the reality of my cellulite and the tragic absence of paparazzi in my life. And I would counsel these people to do the same. Be heroic. Forge on. Get a life.
Maybe volunteer for one of our two ongoing wars, to get a sense of purpose.

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