Rage Against...Something

I recently watched the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, which was kind of awful.

I had been warned that Mr. Darcy was somewhat...lacking in intestinal fortitude, which he certainly was. What's unfortunate is that interpreting him in that manner throws the whole story off. As it is, much of the book is compressed to fit it into the 2 hour time frame of the movie, so it's hard enough to comprehend why Elizabeth would love him. Granted, there are his actions to benefit her sisters, but Elizabeth's character is such (and again, this is only briefly established in the movie) that such actions, while laudable, would not be enough to win her love.

Of course, it's been a while since I read the book, which is why I went out and picked it up today. Maybe I'm wrong. I just kept waiting for a spark of something from Darcy other than sad, longing stares. Why would anyone feel any sort of attraction towards a mopey bastard? It's ludicrous.

It probably didn't help that I also recently watched When the Levees Broke, Spike Lee's documentary about New Orleans and Katrina, which is very well done and fills you with large amounts of inarticulate rage and sorrow. There are no words to communicate the disgust that such a thing could happen in the United States, but what is perhaps more worrying is the fact that it and its repercussions have been lost in the shuffle of Iraq. Where are the demands for change, for oversight, for some acknowledgement of failures and a transparent creation of plans for future emergencies? Is there even a fucking plan for the next time? Because, make no mistake, there will be a next time.

I was reminded, as I was watching it, of the night Dubya won re-election, when I turned to my friend sitting with me and said, "You know, it's horrible to say this, but you almost wish something terrible would happen to the US again, so they could really see what kind of person they re-elected."

People saw, but did they care?