the movie quality is terrible


A Vision to Behold (WIP)

“Erm.. nothing. I… uh…”

“You kept me waiting, darling. Oh! I managed to decipher the manuscript. Page two-thirty-eight contains instructions to create an instrument - something akin to a miniature cannibal star - that is sure to nullify the charges of anything that is a construct of similar constituents; designed to then consume the…”

“Baby, please. Please don’t do this to me.”

“Do what?”

“You can’t be unclad and immersed in water, looking like Nerites himself, and be throwing science at me. It weakens me in every manner.”

“And what if I say: everything you lay your eyes on is for your taking; will you then feel powerful again?”

(I have also been taking great comfort from what I think of as earnest films, recently. And it’s hard to put my finger on the difference, but: Independence Day is one of the most earnest films I’ve ever seen, and its earnestness is a comfort. Raiders of the Lost Ark is ironic but Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is earnest. And of course The Martian is a perfect example of a modern earnest film.

Earnestness does not of course correlate in any way to quality. A terrible movie can be deeply earnest, and a wonderful movie can be anything but. But right now it’s what I crave, I suppose.

I don’t know why it is that earnestness comforts me right now, when I am anxious, when I am sad, but it does. And I am grateful.) 

anonymous asked:

I was going through this blog's archive, and in one of your posts, you said that you particularly loved late 70's-early 80's fandom. I wasn't even born at that time, so this had me wondering about how fandom was different back then compared to now? Did Star Trek fandom go through distinct phases and what were the main differences between them?

This is going to sound really Old Man Yells At Cloud, but here you go:

Imagine not having instant access to every episode, and VCRs and cassettes were a premium commodity that you probably didn’t have.

Imagine there being only 79 episodes shown in reruns, a couple of movies, a couple of dozen authorized novels of varying quality, and some pretty terrible comic books.

No gifs, no Netflix, no ability to instantly like and reblog and comment on other people’s thoughts.

There was no home internet, so to connect, fans had to write physical letters and type up fiction for editors to run in zines. And the people who made zines had to go get them printed and mail them out to people who spent money. People had to put a certain amount of effort into things. 

If you wanted to watch the same Star Trek episode as a bunch of other people and talk about it afterward, you’d have to watch a scratchy 35mm print shown at a convention. If you wanted to wear a costume to that convention, you had to make it all yourself from patterns.  

You had to work to be a fan. You had to be willing to spend a truly dubious amount of time on your hobby. I kind of miss that a lot of the time. I’d much rather pick up and admire an issue of Trek than read a blog post someone hacked out, even if they’re essentially the same thing, you know?

I think Tumblr is wonderful (and that’s why I’m doing this blog here) and I love seeing where fandom has come in the last couple of decades (even if it occasionally makes me roll my eyes), but while it’s leveled the playing field, it’s also taken away some of the magic that I grew up with.