Cases of babification in media that get my goat.

Before I begin, I must define what I mean when I say babification. Depending on several factors, I use words like babify, baby-fy, or babificate to describe a certain kind of media. This media commits the grave sin of assuming its entire audience is made up of children, addressing them accordingly. Or in the most egregious examples, addressing its audience as if it wishes them to adopt the emotional and thought responses of a child.

I want to kill you.

I am going to just dispense will all of the pretense for now and say something that has been coming to my mind a lot lately. Normies all over the world of any race, creed, or idiocy, note this well. I want to kill you. All of you. Without fear or favour.

When things avoid intention, part one: Semantics, and shame

If you are reading this, then take it as proof positive of two things. One, the attempt to put an end to my existence that was promised for a certain date did not go ahead or quite as planned. Exactly what happened is irrelevant. The important point is that I was not found dead.

I refrained from purchasing Prometheus because of format-pushing.

(Note: This article was written before the move to Sydney, and long before the holiday that I prefer to call MoneyMas. Circumstances have changed somewhat since I wrote it, but apart from a closing note, I will write more on the subject in a later article.)

I love Blu-ray Disc (aww really, I hear you cry). It is not just because the media offers the best home cinema experience money can buy, or that it makes the “cinema” part of home cinema far more literal. (There is a reason that cinemas do not project in an interlaced format, morons.) And it is not even because it is the first home cinema medium where the price seems fair relative to what I get in exchange. No, the reason I love it so is because when I watch older films that I only ever saw on VHS on Blu-ray Disc, I often see those older films in a completely different light. One that DVD cannot hold a candle to.

Old note of Queensland-induced rage. (Semi-interesting.)

(Note: The following was written literally months ago, and then just forgotten about. This is probably reflected in the fact that it contains more vitriol towards people who think living in “small towns” somehow automatically makes them virtuous or exemplary. They say you cannot go forward if you do not give what you are leaving behind proper consideration. So history might learn a lesson or two from what is in here.)

This is what our media has come to (aka Alan Jones is an asshole).

The introduction of mass communication after the industrial revolution, like many changes brought about by the industrial revolution, had both good and bad effects. When the radio was the dominant medium, large groups of people could be warned of impending danger, or told of events in the community, all at once with minimal effort. When television was invented, the potential to educate children in the basics of language and mathematics was quickly realised.

Ed Wood. The man, his films, and their meanings.

I will say this much to start with: I am a fan of the films of Ed Wood. In fact, Ed Wood‘s work can be considered a reason to be grateful for the joys of home video and film preservation. Without either of those things, we, the plebs of the later twentieth and early twenty-first century would not be able to enjoy his work. But this also provokes a myriad of questions. Like every celebrity that walks or walked an unusual path, Ed Wood‘s work and life prompts a number of questions that one can learn from by answering.