"Should I send it out?"

"I don't know."

"Are you gonna watch it?"

"I don't know."

"Cause if I send it out we can get something else."

"Like what?"

"I don't know."

etc, etc, etc.

We've had "War Horse" and "The Hobbit" sitting in their slim red Netflix envelopes for the better part of a month now. They're just sitting there. Unopened, unwatched, and unloved like the A/V club on prom night.

Why did we even bother getting them in the first place?

Well, in the case of "The Hobbit" it was because Calvin had wanted it and I was adamant about not paying money to see it, so I hadn't seen it, but it was a very popular movie, and I try to write about popular things and so I felt a certain professional obligation even though I'm not really paid to do this.

But it's three hours long and I can think of at least seventeen other things I could be doing for three hours.

I could cook dinner, eat dinner, spend quality time with the wife and still have two hours to spend on Youtube looking up novel ways to grow potatoes in small spaces.

And "War Horse" . . . well . . . I'm not afraid to admit I have a soft spot for Spielberg movies. Even when they are saccharine, or boring, or needlessly pedantic, its still fascinating to watch a craftsman at work. Otherwise Jazz and Ballet would have died out long ago.

Its based on a children's book that was turned into a play that was turned into a movie. That means artists from several different disciplines have been fascinated enough by the story to put their stamp on it, so if it looks like a duck and tastes like a duck and crosses the street in single file lines regardless of the traffic, then possibly there is enough meat left on the bones that would make a 2 1/2 hours commitment worth while.

But eh.

What can I say?


Due to my post project apathy, honestly, I'd prefer to take a nap right now.

After finishing this blog, of course.

And it occurs to me, just his moment, that if apathy where a disease, an emotional psychological disorder, then it could be easily diagnosed through the lack of interactivity in one's Netflix queue.

And it should be a disorder. The DSM should list it just before arachnophobia and just after anal-retentivness.

There's already a drug for it.

Its called meth.

And if you think the side effects of meth are scary, don't ever try to read the label on your aspirin bottle.

"Hundreds of Tweekers Agree!"

"War Horse is effing minestrone popcorn cheesy poofs!"

or so the poster might say.

But I don't have the time for another addiction, and wouldn't know where to look if I did.

So "The Hobbit" and "War Horse" will remain in apathetic limbo until such time as I care enough to watch them or to trade them in for something else.

and the cycle of abuse continues.

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