Month: December 2025

Tenacity of Purpose

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I had my oldest grandson over today.  I spent about three hours in the morning clearing snow from the driveways and the afternoon and evening watching a science fiction tv series that he liked.  It’s called “Murderbot” and it’s about a cyborg that figures out how to override the “governor” that forces him to obey and protect humans.  The series is based on books that my grandson read and liked.  It was somewhat a black comedy because the cyborg finds humans incredibly annoying and so he is sorely tempted to do them harm from time to time.  He is also disgusted by most human speech and emotional activities, finding affection and sexual behavior especially nauseating.

And so the plot puts him in contact with a group of humans that can only be described as woke hippies.  They’re constantly virtue signaling about their sexuality and politics and thereby annoying the “SecUnit” (security unit) almost constantly which triggers him to complain internally and that provides most of the monologue of the show.

And the SecUnit is further incensed when his actions to keep the hippies safe requires him to kill cyborgs and humans who are actively hunting.  The audience sees the absurdity of this squeamishness but the hippies are just too pacifistic to understand.  But by the end of the season, they learn the value of fighting back and SecUnit becomes a valued part of their group.  Well, I can’t say I didn’t despise the hippies but the cyborg was an amusing protagonist.

Afterwards we talked about fiction publishing and how short stories are currently shared on the internet (for free).  He mentioned a story he was reading that had a character that finds a sentient being that resembles a tin can but is possessed of tremendous cosmic powers.  I told him it reminded me of a short story called “The Sack” about an omniscient being found by humans on an asteroid that could answer almost any question and how that becomes the cause of an interplanetary battle.

Then we talked for a while about joining the work force because he graduates college in May.  I told him a story about some mistakes I made during a job interview and how maybe they worked to my advantage in the long run.  And we talked about crafting a resume.  I had a story about how maybe insanity may have played a hand in one of the first jobs I got.  A distant relative added some text to my resume using the phrase “tenacity of purpose.”  And this phrase was mentioned by my prospective boss’s boss as one of the things that attracted them to my application.  At a later date I could confirm that both the relative that came up with that phrase and the manager who liked it were both certifiably insane.  Maybe that was a good thing.  But it has to make you think about how bizarre circumstance plays a role in moving our lives in the directions they go.  I told my grandson to use that phrase “tenacity of purpose” with care since apparently it attracts the crazies.

An interesting day.

The Future is Entertainment that Entertains, Maybe

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For the last ten years Hollywood has been making movies based on what they thought audiences ought to see instead of what they wanted to see.  This steady stream of girl-boss super hero and transgender romance stories have lost the studios literally billions of dollars.  I’ve been raving against this for years saying something will have to give and finally it has.

There’s a guy named Scott Cawthon whose twisted imagination came up with a story line where a Chuck E. Cheese-style restaurant becomes possessed by evil spirits and the animatronic animals start slaughtering the patrons.  He called it “Five Nights at Freddy’s.” He went from on-line storytelling to a video game to finally a couple of movies in the theaters that made hundreds of millions of dollars.  And the Rotten Tomatoes scores from the professional reviewers was 33% and the rating by customers was 86%.

So, what’s the lesson?  Find what the audience wants and give it to them.  And this is becoming more frequent.  A YouTuber named Markiplier self-financed a sci-fi horror movie called Iron Lung about a prisoner sealed in a submarine prison on a moon covered in an ocean of blood.  And once again there is a built-in audience from the game and story fans on-line.

Well, finally the actual studios are waking up and saying, “Wait a minute.  Why don’t we start making movies out of stories that people actually like?”  So, there are about a billion kids who play Minecraft so a Minecraft movie will make a billion dollars.  Duh!  Studios like Apple are starting to make science fiction and fantasy movies that piggy back on books that have actual audience appeal instead of left-wing ideological cachet.  It’s still barely detectable but without a doubt it’s the future.

Now, this isn’t targeted at me.  It’s for my grandkids.  They play the video-games that these movies are based on.  When I watch them it’s like some kind of fever dream.  The plots are crazy, the characters are cartoonish and the pacing is almost non-existent.  But no one is preaching.  It’s reminiscent of the slasher movies back in the eighties.  The audience was teenagers and there was no danger of anyone winning an Academy Award but the audience left happy and the studios made money.  This is the model that seems to be returning.

I was talking to one of my grandsons about this phenomenon and he provided a piece of supporting evidence.  He mentioned that none of his friends were going to bother to see the third Avatar movie because basically it’s the same movie recycled.  He said now that the CGI isn’t as cutting edge there’s really no reason to go listen to the same lecture about the military-industrial complex colonizing and oppressing space-aborigines for a third time.  Of course, that’s my take on what he said but it was interesting to me that he recognized the recycled aspect of the plot.  The Zoomers aren’t as helpless as some people paint them.  At least not the ones I’m related to.

I Am Very Sorry, Sir, Said Bob.  I Am Behind My Time

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“But he was early at the office next morning. Oh, he was early there. If he could only be there first, and catch Bob Cratchit coming late! That was the thing he had set his heart upon.  And he did it; yes, he did! The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. No Bob. He was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time. Scrooge sat with his door wide open, that he might see him come into the Tank.  His hat was off, before he opened the door; his comforter too. He was on his stool in a jiffy; driving away with his pen, as if he were trying to overtake nine o’clock.

“Hallo!” growled Scrooge, in his accustomed voice, as near as he could feign it. “What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?”  “I am very sorry, sir,” said Bob. “I am behind my time.”  “You are?” repeated Scrooge. “Yes. I think you are.  Step this way, sir, if you please.”  “It’s only once a year, sir,” pleaded Bob, appearing from the Tank. “It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.”  “Now, I’ll tell you what, my friend,” said Scrooge, “I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore,” he continued, leaping from his stool, and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he staggered back into the Tank again; “and therefore I am about to raise your salary!”

Bob trembled, and got a little nearer to the ruler. He had a momentary idea of knocking Scrooge down with it,

holding him, and calling to the people in the court for help and a strait-waistcoat.  “A merry Christmas, Bob!” said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. “A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you, for many a year! I’ll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob! Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!””

Like poor Mr. Cratchit I was making rather merry last night at Christmas and just didn’t have the time or the mental clarity to write my post in time for the 5 a.m. deadline.  So with Bob as my exemplar I’ll plead, “I am very sorry.  I am behind my time.  It’s only once a year.  It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday.”

And I was.  Camera Girl outdid herself in providing enormous quantities of delicious food and ridiculously rich desserts.  I probably gained five pounds in a single day and will have to fast for a week to return my system to equilibrium.  But it was a gathering of my descendants and it was merry.  And in imitation of Dickens I’ll say,

“God bless Us, Every One!”