Longest title ever! It will actually make sense, at least to my twisted world view at a certain point in my meanderings.
So, what is the monkey on about? He is on about creativity.....again. This time not just his own, but also that of every other paper tiger and moving picture hack. You see, there is nothing new anymore. This is a tragedy. Even I must steal from me in order to complete my latest assignment.
That assignment is instructing you on the sadness of the creative world.
I recently had a convoluted idea of a story, which in my head was greatness. It was going to change the way people saw the world. This idea was going to shape the generations that follow. It would be so profoundly mesmerizing interesting, creative and insightful that I would live off of it for the rest of my life.
This one idea would put food on my table, give me something to do and force others to worship me....you know not in that god way, but like they would any flavour of celebrity or minor deity of genius...or at least like Val Kilmer. This joke works because Val is a minor celebrity, and was in a movie called real genius...which btw is the third best movie ever made).
I had it all mapped out in my head. It had compelling characters, a gritty raw emotional feel that would be understood and felt by all. It had just the right amount of explosions and boobs...which is pretty much the hardest equation to accomplish. It could be said that Under Seige had either too little boob or too much explosion for example. My idea had emotional and spiritual attraction for the ladies, and knife fights for the dudes. It had no pirates either, gay or otherwise, though I imagine in my mind Johnny Depp would still want a part in the movie version because that guy knows genius.
I percolated on said idea for a few days, really shaping it and molding it in to the brilliant idea that would not only win me writing awards, but also an Oscar and the love of a good Megan fox. All was going well, until my muse/evil partner/hate filled midget/destroyer of fine dreams everywhere got involved.
I laid bare my plan for winning the hearts and minds of the masses, and this is what she said.
"Oh, so like lost, but in a bomb shelter."
For the 37th time, she broke my heart. I believe she now takes joy in it, as if it was a sport, or at least a hobby.
She also managed to put a small, angry, disaffected voice to my other thought. There is no creativity anymore.
I can Prove it.
CSIMINDSINTHENAVYORDEROFNUMBEREDBONES.
LOSTHEROESDURINGTHEEVENT.
I first noticed this trend of patheticism during the summer of discontent in which every movie was about some type of Ragnarok. Ben Affleck needed to save the world from a deep impact or some such nonsensical Armageddon.
I blogged about a similar phenomenon not too long ago in regards to GI Joe. It has only gotten worse.
Not only are people purchasing the rights to other stories, they are now simply rebooting dead movies.
I noticed this with Batman. It had been a whole series of movies, then it died. Then it was reborn with a new, grittier feel and a scary crazy actor.
This trend is continuing. They are going to continue to simply remake old movies. They are going to continue to remake television shows....there can be only one filler of the daisy dukes, and I do not care if she is a lesbian.
What is worse than all of those examples is the trend of noticing someone else`s success, and rather than using it to motivate you to reach for your own pot of gold, it drives you to envy, jealousy and desperate measure. It drives you to write the exact same story in a new location. It drives one to copy what others have done, set it in an exciting, exotic locale, slap your own name on it and resell it to people.
If you liked CSI, then you will love CSI Tahiti. Same great dead bodies, now with 60% more bikini clad women and speedo wearing six packs.
I get that there are true victims in all of this...besides the dulled minds of the masses, those victims are the barely creative wannabes like me.
Having never seen lost, I had no idea I was copying them. In that case, I could have continued with my idea and felt reasonable that I was being creative. Yet in the end, I would only be disappointed by the masses when they in fact paid me for my product; after all, we buy no name ketchup right? There must be some kind of math equation hollywood uses to determine the deteriorating return on a good idea.
AB-u=X
ab-u=Y
Repeat step 2.
When Y=0 search for A
A=new idea
B= Sales of new idea
U-Budget costs
X equals profit
a=retread
b= diminishing returns
u= ridiculously low production cost.
Y= reduced profit MArgin
That seems about right. Spend high at first, then reduce quality, dilute product until the masses no longer accept the product, then start over.
I fail to see the appeal in this. I fail to see why we should reward people for stealing other's ideas, repackaging them and giving them to us, even if it is at a reduced pricve...which it rarely is, or if it is, it is because quality is so pathetic.
Having said all of this, I think it matters to point out that Shakespeare stole all the good ideas anyway, so what are we left with?
Pretty much stuff that goes Boom or stuff that goes Bump.
To sum up, Shakespeare is a jerk, short people are mean, I am uncreative...accidentally, and I managed to make a Val Kilmer reference and a Paris Hilton reference in a single blog post. Now that takes creativity.
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