A hell of a long con
OK, finally made my peace with the stupid ending to a stupid show disguised in some clever twists here and there..
————Reaction to the novel The Moon and Sixpences
After watching "the mist" this noon, well, i kind of don't know what to say...
The irony in it is, if it was really a very smart show, I would have watched it with a lot more carefulness, and wouldn't have missed those signs showing it was simply a long con from the very beginning..:D
“I recognized its social values, I saw its ordered happiness, but a fever in my blood asked for a wilder course. There seemed to me something alarming in such easy delights. In my heart was a desire to live more dangerously. I was not unprepared for jagged rocks and treacherous shoals if I could only have change——change and the excitement of the unforeseen.”
A hell of a long con。I already used to the stereotype of the only hero saving all the world by himself.. However this movie recalls me that regret does really exist in the real life...
Well, I did pick up clues from place to place, now and then, but with all the lovely music, pretty faces and beautiful tropical island scenes, eventually I still fell for the trap, and set up a higher expectation value for it, much higher than it should have been.
太阳城申博官网下载，Surely it has been a long time since we last thought about our dreams. Nowadays people are always on the run, searching for fame, money or love. But few of us take time to think, where have our dream gone to? Do we still seize them in our hands? Do we have the courage to lay down the life burden and completely pursue them? Can we wake up in every morning rather survive than live the life?
When the disaster came, he fighted bravely like a soldier; he calmed down and appealed to unity; he conducted others as if he knew he could beat down the thing in the mist; he always knew what the next step was...
I mean, come on, in the end, the whole thing was just because a crazy woman who mysteriously gained some sort of super power fell in love with a boy she robbed from the real mother who she then ruthlessly murdered??? How stupid our human kind must have been, to be so willingly and happily manipulated by such a group of super power lunatics and assholes...And those who loved the show call it spiritual??!
We can make excuse like oh we are only stick to the reality or we don't have time. But the truth is, somebody did make an example for all of us. The main character in this book, Charles Strickland, did all those things that we cannot even think about. At the beginning of the story, the narrator judged Strickland as a tedious and plain-looking man who wore his evening clothes clumsily, had no social gifts. And there was no reason to waste one's time over him. Strickland was a broker on the Stock Exchange. He was not very rich, but owned a good position in the select society. He also had a happy family, with a charming wife and two pleasant children. Perhaps Strickland's intelligence was adequate to his surroundings, and that is a passport, not only to reasonable success, but still more to happiness. But apparently this was not a life that he wanted. He was dreaming about a vast sea, not a calm, silent and indifferent one, but a real sea with a violent storm.
It seems that he was the hero just like the other ones in my stereotype who can finnally lead the people to the bright future...He, however, was not...And that's the reason why i like this movie... He was real and life is ruthless...
Yeah right, they couldn't hurt each other, except that MIB was immediately killed by his dumb and jealous twin brother, and was kept in the island-made prison for reason no other than revenge..And Jacob, supposedly the good guy, somehow felt that to fix his own screw-up, he would have to bring more deranged losers like him as so called candidates to the island, using all sorts of destructive ways and killing thousands of innocent people along the way. Good thinking, and some seriously troubled moral standards from the writers group. (Keamy can move on with the group, but Michael can't?)
Therefore, he left all of the happy things behind and stepped on the path that overgrown with brambles. “I tell you I've got to paint. I can't help myself. When a man falls into the water it doesn't matter how he swims well or badly. He's got to get out or else he'll drown.” He was obsessed with painting, and nothing could stop him from doing that, though his trousers were baggy, his hands were not clean, and his face, with the red stubble of the unshaved chin, the little eyes, and the large, aggressive nose, was uncouth and coarse. He was poor, starving and almost at the gate of death. In addition, he was tortured morally because of the search of technique of expression. Eventually he left the civilized world to an isolated island, where he finally found the peace of soul and the atmosphere which was beneficial to his creation. But misfortune again arrived at his life. Upon painting several astonishing works, he was told to have developed a lepriasis. During these days that haunted by the disease, he kept painting on the wall although he was gradually blind.
When the crazy woman instigated stupid people to take a man's blood for sin, he couldn't do anything to stop them;
Anyways, they went, fought, corrupted and destroyed, and finally fulfilled everybodys' so called destinies..There they were, sitting in the purgatory, still need an already long dead Charlie to have another "near death " experience to wake everybody up??:D And what is the big thrill/hurry about moving on, when you finally find and get together with the supposedly most important, beloved person(s) of your lives, you just couldn't wait to part with them again, and go on with your new wheels of fortune?? Eloise's choice seemed a lot more sensible/logical to me in this case.
After reading this book, I can't get this scene out of my mind: In the deep end of an uncivilized island, an old man who was basically disfigured because of a fatal disease sat peacefully in a shabby house and listened to the screaming of the distant sea. The walls were filled with magnificent paintings but he couldn't see his works, he could only listen and feel. My heart burst with awe and revere, for he had finally found the dream peace he was searching for, passing through millions of paths that overgrown with brambles.