Your leaking thatched hut during the restoration of a pre-Enlightenment state.


Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").


decay & ruin
Biosphere II
dead malls
Irving housing

welcome to the collapse
Clusterfuck Nation
Peak Oil

got that wrong

appropriate tech
Arduino μcontrollers
Backwoods Home
Fractal antenna

fun social media stuff

(nobody does!)

Like my brownhouse:
   too craptacular to watch
Monday, December 17 2012
Somehow a movie entitled Rock of Ages arrived at our house via Netflix (an envelope-based movie delivery system that will seem archaic in a few years, unless the passage of peak oil has reduced us to peeling tree bark with stone tools). Gretchen and I had just finished watching Jeopardy and she assured me that I would want to stick around for the movie she was loading into the DVD player (no, we don't yet own a BluRay player). So I started watching what might well be the most cheeseball piece of cinematography ever shot. Initially, the movie (which is based on a Broadway musical) seemed to take as its focus late-1980s Los Angeles hair metal, but it quickly devolved into a celebration of late-70s and early-80s arena rock, usually presented as mashups between two songs. For example Foreigner's "Juke Box Hero" was somehow mashedup with Joan Jett's "I Love Rock 'n' Roll."
I don't have much ambivalence about the 1980s. For me it was an anomalous decade full of selfishness, bad politics, and terrible fashion. I think of it as a time unusually drenched in sweat, and not in a good way. But it wasn't anywhere near as cheeseball as Rock of Ages portrayed it. Was I really alive then? And if so, did I really want to kiss the girls of the 1980s? It's hard to believe I lost my virginity in that decade, but I did. Still, I didn't want to have my nose rubbed in it. Gretchen and I only made it through the first half hour before ejecting the disc. It was just too craptacular to watch.

For linking purposes this article's URL is:

previous | next