Yeah, pretty accurate description of how depression looks.
I'm reminded of Lars von Trier's Melancholia. I don't recommend it to anyone but it's the best, most visceral portrayal of the condition I have found in any medium. Watching it was strangely cathartic.
> And really, really boring and slow a lot of the time
If you only watch the story-driven scenes in Lawrence of Arabia, and skip the prolonged shots of the desert, you would miss out feeling the same vastness and heat Lawrence is feeling.
There is a limit to how much a film can make you think or feel. Films that reach the highest limits need "boring" voids in-between the primary scenes. These voids are not to ingest more, but to help digest what has been ingested in previous scenes, with subliminal scenes and silence that let the right thoughts and feelings grow.
We traded books for films, and now films for short videos, always moving towards what is easier to enjoy.
Quite a while ago, books became a taste that needs to be patiently acquired. Someone starting to read today is more likely to develop the taste by gradually easing into books that demand more and more. Say maybe Huxley -> Camus -> Wilde -> Dostoevsky.
Now that short clips are here, the same has happened to films. The uninitiated need to sit through Scorsese, Hitchcock, Wilder, Kubrick, Altman before attempting Fellini, Antonioni, Tarkovsky, Ozu, Resnais.
And by the way, someone who is naturally inclined to love films (or books) won't be affected, even today. Am I wrong? The way they are described here, I would crush these film students.
I think TV series are bigger than films now. They have established characters and story line spanned over several shorter episodes with cliffhangers and recaps etc. Once you get into a series you follow it for several seasons. It's a preferred way to tell stories.
I usually prefer films over TV series because I find just these tropes tiring. I find TV series have quite inefficient story telling and spend most of its time trying to get me hooked to watch the next episode.
This is my all-time favorite mathematics book. It approaches calculus fundamentals through a series of fictional conversations between a teacher and a student.
It is easy to read, yet I remember it gave me an odd visceral sense of what calculus is (or maybe I just thought it did).
You are absolutely right β Let me know if you want to read my personal anecdote on "Dead Internet Theory"...
Yeah, I especially hate how paranoid everyone is (but rightly so). I am constantly suspicious of others' perfectly original work being AI, and others are constantly suspicious of my work being AI.
I'm reminded of Lars von Trier's Melancholia. I don't recommend it to anyone but it's the best, most visceral portrayal of the condition I have found in any medium. Watching it was strangely cathartic.