I just wanted to be racist while trying to overtly avoid the social consequences of such by trying to frame it into some sort of lesson for you to learn.
I don't know if I've already said this somewhere, but think the main difference between good sitcoms and bad sitcoms is that good sitcoms usually get you to laugh with the characters, while bad sitcoms tend to rely on you being able to laugh at the characters.
I don't know if I've already said this somewhere, but think the main difference between good sitcoms and bad sitcoms is that good sitcoms usually get you to laugh with the characters, while bad sitcoms tend to rely on you being able to laugh at the characters.
The Answered Prayers wiki, at least, claims that it is concept art.
Regardless, that is definitely Flourette, who is the protagonist of said game. I recommend it, even though it's still in beta and development has been slow (a patch came out relatively recently but it was the first one in almost a year).
They just portrayed the nerds ignoring their girlfriends asking for sex because they are too obsessed with Halo.
I am perplexed. Earlier, the series presented the average nerd as baffled and mystified by women, as shown by the reactions when the girlfriends visit a comic book shop. And now, the nerd is shown to eschew the temptations of women for the purity of finding a ledge and sniping people with the rocket launcher.
Surely, they should be able to keep their stereotypes straight, right?
it's because common decency < our libidos < our girlfriends < video games
More people have said that and been killed than there are thorium decay products.
I personally believe that laugh tracks are an insidious form of social engineering that steers the mainstream public consciousness for sociopolitical agendas.
More people have said that and been killed than there are thorium decay products.
or alternatively, it could be guide laughter because the average network TV-watching capitalist slave is assumed to be too dense to know when someone said a joke and it's okay to laugh?
...By general consent [one] of the best documentaries ever made.
So I wrote in 1994, in a review of what in fact is a better documentary, Ray Muller's "The Wonderful Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl." I was referring to Riefenstahl's "Triumph of the Will" (1935), about the 1934 Nazi Party congress and rally in Nuremberg. Others would have agreed with me. We would all have been reflecting the received opinion that the film is great but evil, and that reviewing it raises the question of whether great art can be in service of evil. I referred to "Triumph" again in the struggle I had in reviewing the racist "Birth of a Nation."
But how fresh was my memory of "Triumph of the Will"? I believe I saw it as an undergraduate in college, and my memory would have been old and fuzzy even in 1994, overlaid by many assertions of the film's "greatness." Now I have just seen it again and am stunned that I praised it. It is one of the most historically important documentaries ever made, yes, but one of the best? It is a terrible film, paralyzingly dull, simpleminded, overlong and not even "manipulative," because it is too clumsy to manipulate anyone but a true believer. It is not a "great movie" in the sense that the other films in this group are great, but it is "great" in the reputation it has and the shadow it casts.
Have you seen it recently, or at all? It records the gathering together, in September 1934 in Nuremberg, of hundreds of thousands of Nazi Party members, troops and supporters, to be "reviewed" by Adolf Hitler. Reviewed is the operative word. Great long stretches of the film consist merely of massed formations of infantry, cavalry, artillery groups and even working men with their shovels held like rifles. They march in perfect, rigid formation past Hitler, giving him their upraised right arms in salute and having it returned. Opening sections of the film show Hitler addressing an outdoor formation, and the conclusion involves his speech in a vast hall at the closing of the congress.
Try to imagine another film where hundreds of thousands gathered. Where all focus was on one or a few figures on a distant stage. Where those figures were the object of adulation. The film, of course, is the rock documentary "Woodstock" (1970). But consider how Michael Wadleigh, that film's director, approached the formal challenge of his work. He begins with the preparations for this massive concert. He shows arrivals coming by car, bus, bicycle, foot. He show the arrangements to feed them. He makes the Port-O-San Man, serving the portable toilets, into a folk hero. He shows the crowd sleeping in tents or in the rough, bathing in streams, even making love. He shows them drenched with shadows and wading through mud. He shows medical problems. He shows the crowds gradually disappearing.
By contrast, Riefenstahl's camera is oblivious to one of the most fascinating aspects of the Nuremberg rally, which is how it was organized. Yes, there are overhead shots of vast fields of tents, laid out with mathematical precision. But how did the thousands eat, relieve themselves, prepare their uniforms and weapons and mass up to begin their march through town? We see overhead shots of tens of thousands of Nazis in rigid formation, not a single figure missing, not a single person walking to the sidelines. How long did they have to stand before their moment in the sun? Where did they go and what did they do after marching past Hitler? In a sense, Riefenstahl has told the least interesting part of the story.
There is a lesson, to be sure, in the zombie-like obedience of the marching troops, so rigidly in formation they deny their own physical feelings. One searches the ranks for a smile, a yawn. But all are stern and serious, and so is Hitler, except once when he smiles as the horses are marching past. But what else does the film contain, apart from the "march-pasts"? There is a long series of closeups near the beginning, of Nazi party officials mouthing official platitudes. There are two speeches by Hitler, both surprisingly short, both lacking all niceties, both stark in their language: The party must be "uncompromisingly the one and only power in Germany."
One searches for human touches. Riefenstahl had no eye for human interest. Individuality is crushed by the massed conformity. There are occasional cutaways to people smiling or nodding, but rarely ever speaking to one another. There is no attempt to "humanize" Hitler. In his closing speech, sweat trickles down his face, and we realize that there was no perspiration in earlier shots. Is it possible that he posed for some of the perfectly framed shots of him reviewing troops? A 35mm camera and crew would have been a distracting presence in the street next to his car; one filming him from a high pedestal would have had to be crane-mounted, and shot out of synchronicity with the event.
"If you see this film again today, you ascertain that it doesn't contain a single reconstructed scene." So says Riefenstahl in her film's defense in the Muller documentary. What does she mean by "reconstructed"? Certainly we would not think the massed "march-bys" would be reconstructed. But what of such scenes as the Workers' Brigade, where the men chant in unison, presumably to Hitler, that they labor in the swamps, in the fields, etc., and then, in response to the barked question, "Where are you from?" individuals answer with the names of their towns or districts. They could not have all heard the question; each answer would have been a separate set-up.
There are also questions of spontaneity. During one Hitler speech, he is interrupted by sieg heil! exactly six times, as if there were an applause sign to prompt them when to begin and end, and we note that throughout the film, there are no scatterings of individual voices at the start or finish of sieg heil! Only a single massed voice, in unison. I found myself peering intently to observe other moments of the film revealing its mechanism. Although Riefenstahl used 30 cameras and a crew of 150, only one camera appears to be visible on screen; during the outdoor rally before three gigantic hanging swastika flags, you can see the camera on an elevator between the first and second, its shadow cast on the second. And in a shot of a man who has climbed up a pole to get a better view of a parade, she cuts back to him giving the right-arm salute; I reflected that he could not hold on without both hands, and realized that his left foot is out of frame in both shots -- standing on a support, undoubtedly. Among minor details: Everyone on screen seems to have a fresh haircut.
That "Triumph of the Will" is a great propaganda film, there is no doubt, and various surveys have named it so. But I doubt that anyone not already a Nazi could be swayed by it. Being a Nazi, to this film, means being a mindless pawn in thrall to the godlike Hitler. Yet it must have had a persuasive effect in Germany at the time; although Hitler clearly spells out that the Nazis will be Germany's only party, and its leader Germany's only leader for 1,000 years to come. At the end, there is a singing of the party anthem, the Horst Wessel Song; under Nazi law, the right-arm salute had to be given during the first and fourth verses. We see a lot of right-arm saluting in "Triumph of the Will," noticing how Hitler curls his fingers back to his palm before withdrawing the salute each time, with a certain satisfaction. What a horrible man. What insanity that so many Germans embraced him. A sobering thought: Most of the people on the screen were dead within a few years.
Comments
In the industry business, It's not that bad of a marketing tool.
Not bad is right, musical note.
See where I'm going with this?
I think.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
~slam dunk~
the guy behind Answered Prayers is like, really good at drawing.
Regardless, that is definitely Flourette, who is the protagonist of said game. I recommend it, even though it's still in beta and development has been slow (a patch came out relatively recently but it was the first one in almost a year).
guess im gonna have to check it out
However, I'm looking at their blog and there are other pictures of Flourette on there, so nevermind.
says it right here!
bluh
or not
I'm bad at advice
death to ye
So I wrote in 1994, in a review of what in fact is a better documentary, Ray Muller's "The Wonderful Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl."
I was referring to Riefenstahl's "Triumph of the Will" (1935), about
the 1934 Nazi Party congress and rally in Nuremberg. Others would have
agreed with me. We would all have been reflecting the received opinion
that the film is great but evil, and that reviewing it raises the
question of whether great art can be in service of evil. I referred to
"Triumph" again in the struggle I had in reviewing the racist "Birth of a
Nation."
But how fresh was my memory of "Triumph of the Will"? I believe I
saw it as an undergraduate in college, and my memory would have been
old and fuzzy even in 1994, overlaid by many assertions of the film's
"greatness." Now I have just seen it again and am stunned that I praised
it. It is one of the most historically important documentaries ever
made, yes, but one of the best? It is a terrible film, paralyzingly
dull, simpleminded, overlong and not even "manipulative," because it is
too clumsy to manipulate anyone but a true believer. It is not a "great
movie" in the sense that the other films in this group are great, but it
is "great" in the reputation it has and the shadow it casts.
Have you seen it recently, or at all? It records the gathering
together, in September 1934 in Nuremberg, of hundreds of thousands of
Nazi Party members, troops and supporters, to be "reviewed" by Adolf
Hitler. Reviewed is the operative word. Great long stretches of the film
consist merely of massed formations of infantry, cavalry, artillery
groups and even working men with their shovels held like rifles. They
march in perfect, rigid formation past Hitler, giving him their upraised
right arms in salute and having it returned. Opening sections of the
film show Hitler addressing an outdoor formation, and the conclusion
involves his speech in a vast hall at the closing of the congress.
Try to imagine another film where hundreds of thousands gathered.
Where all focus was on one or a few figures on a distant stage. Where
those figures were the object of adulation. The film, of course, is the
rock documentary "Woodstock" (1970). But consider how Michael Wadleigh,
that film's director, approached the formal challenge of his work. He
begins with the preparations for this massive concert. He shows arrivals
coming by car, bus, bicycle, foot. He show the arrangements to feed
them. He makes the Port-O-San Man, serving the portable toilets, into a
folk hero. He shows the crowd sleeping in tents or in the rough, bathing
in streams, even making love. He shows them drenched with shadows and
wading through mud. He shows medical problems. He shows the crowds
gradually disappearing.
By contrast, Riefenstahl's camera is oblivious to one of the most
fascinating aspects of the Nuremberg rally, which is how it was
organized. Yes, there are overhead shots of vast fields of tents, laid
out with mathematical precision. But how did the thousands eat, relieve
themselves, prepare their uniforms and weapons and mass up to begin
their march through town? We see overhead shots of tens of thousands of
Nazis in rigid formation, not a single figure missing, not a single
person walking to the sidelines. How long did they have to stand before
their moment in the sun? Where did they go and what did they do after
marching past Hitler? In a sense, Riefenstahl has told the least
interesting part of the story.
There is a lesson, to be sure, in the zombie-like obedience of
the marching troops, so rigidly in formation they deny their own
physical feelings. One searches the ranks for a smile, a yawn. But all
are stern and serious, and so is Hitler, except once when he smiles as
the horses are marching past. But what else does the film contain, apart
from the "march-pasts"? There is a long series of closeups near the
beginning, of Nazi party officials mouthing official platitudes. There
are two speeches by Hitler, both surprisingly short, both lacking all
niceties, both stark in their language: The party must be
"uncompromisingly the one and only power in Germany."
One searches for human touches. Riefenstahl had no eye for human
interest. Individuality is crushed by the massed conformity. There are
occasional cutaways to people smiling or nodding, but rarely ever
speaking to one another. There is no attempt to "humanize" Hitler. In
his closing speech, sweat trickles down his face, and we realize that
there was no perspiration in earlier shots. Is it possible that he posed
for some of the perfectly framed shots of him reviewing troops? A 35mm
camera and crew would have been a distracting presence in the street
next to his car; one filming him from a high pedestal would have had to
be crane-mounted, and shot out of synchronicity with the event.
"If you see this film again today, you ascertain that it doesn't
contain a single reconstructed scene." So says Riefenstahl in her film's
defense in the Muller documentary. What does she mean by
"reconstructed"? Certainly we would not think the massed "march-bys"
would be reconstructed. But what of such scenes as the Workers' Brigade,
where the men chant in unison, presumably to Hitler, that they labor in
the swamps, in the fields, etc., and then, in response to the barked
question, "Where are you from?" individuals answer with the names of
their towns or districts. They could not have all heard the question;
each answer would have been a separate set-up.
There are also questions of spontaneity. During one Hitler speech, he is interrupted by sieg heil!
exactly six times, as if there were an applause sign to prompt them
when to begin and end, and we note that throughout the film, there are
no scatterings of individual voices at the start or finish of sieg heil!
Only a single massed voice, in unison. I found myself peering intently
to observe other moments of the film revealing its mechanism. Although
Riefenstahl used 30 cameras and a crew of 150, only one camera appears
to be visible on screen; during the outdoor rally before three gigantic
hanging swastika flags, you can see the camera on an elevator between
the first and second, its shadow cast on the second. And in a shot of a
man who has climbed up a pole to get a better view of a parade, she cuts
back to him giving the right-arm salute; I reflected that he could not
hold on without both hands, and realized that his left foot is out of
frame in both shots -- standing on a support, undoubtedly. Among minor
details: Everyone on screen seems to have a fresh haircut.
That "Triumph of the Will" is a great propaganda film, there is
no doubt, and various surveys have named it so. But I doubt that anyone
not already a Nazi could be swayed by it. Being a Nazi, to this film,
means being a mindless pawn in thrall to the godlike Hitler. Yet it must
have had a persuasive effect in Germany at the time; although Hitler
clearly spells out that the Nazis will be Germany's only party, and its
leader Germany's only leader for 1,000 years to come. At the end, there
is a singing of the party anthem, the Horst Wessel Song; under Nazi law,
the right-arm salute had to be given during the first and fourth
verses. We see a lot of right-arm saluting in "Triumph of the Will,"
noticing how Hitler curls his fingers back to his palm before
withdrawing the salute each time, with a certain satisfaction. What a
horrible man. What insanity that so many Germans embraced him. A
sobering thought: Most of the people on the screen were dead within a
few years.