Idiot reviews
I get idiot reviews.
To be specific I get an idiot who reviews.
A single idiot.
Every story has a point, a focus, an intangible around which it revolves. It is the point of the story defines the form.
I recently watched a movie called Invictus. Obstensibly about the 1995 Rugby world cup, the focus of the story is nation building.
The storyteller (Eastwood) spends a great deal of time focusing on political rather than sporting events, and justifiably so simply because the Rugby was a tool in the hands of a statesman.
I could spend an extraordinary amount of time criticizing the accuracy of Rugby or criticizing achronisms, but I won't. simply because they are inconsequential to the movie, inconsequential to the focus. It was an excellent cinematic interpretation of a troubled inspiring period of history. Which was precisely the point.
My idiot reviewer seems to lack any ability to decern the point of a story, in a review almost as long as the drabble he criticized my failure to describe an generic hotel room, to describe the city in which the generic hotel room within which a "one word" event takes place. For failing to describe a saucy sex scene, when the whole point of the sex scene was the "one word" interuption thereof.
At no point does he mention the title conceit (good or bad), the point of the story.
This is typical Dunning-Kruger behavior from an idiot.
Rant over.
Instead we should have defined the weather, the skyline, the 70's style motel room with coin operated magic fingers ( no not really). We should have (in a 500 word R-rated drabble) descibed the sex in pornographic detail, and no doubt after painting an architectural picture of a magical hospital, every gruesome detail of childbirth in technicolour.
and at no point does he mention the title conceit (good or bad)
To be specific I get an idiot who reviews.
A single idiot.
Every story has a point, a focus, an intangible around which it revolves. It is the point of the story defines the form.
I recently watched a movie called Invictus. Obstensibly about the 1995 Rugby world cup, the focus of the story is nation building.
The storyteller (Eastwood) spends a great deal of time focusing on political rather than sporting events, and justifiably so simply because the Rugby was a tool in the hands of a statesman.
I could spend an extraordinary amount of time criticizing the accuracy of Rugby or criticizing achronisms, but I won't. simply because they are inconsequential to the movie, inconsequential to the focus. It was an excellent cinematic interpretation of a troubled inspiring period of history. Which was precisely the point.
My idiot reviewer seems to lack any ability to decern the point of a story, in a review almost as long as the drabble he criticized my failure to describe an generic hotel room, to describe the city in which the generic hotel room within which a "one word" event takes place. For failing to describe a saucy sex scene, when the whole point of the sex scene was the "one word" interuption thereof.
At no point does he mention the title conceit (good or bad), the point of the story.
This is typical Dunning-Kruger behavior from an idiot.
Rant over.
Instead we should have defined the weather, the skyline, the 70's style motel room with coin operated magic fingers ( no not really). We should have (in a 500 word R-rated drabble) descibed the sex in pornographic detail, and no doubt after painting an architectural picture of a magical hospital, every gruesome detail of childbirth in technicolour.
and at no point does he mention the title conceit (good or bad)