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Sunday, November 30, 2025

Pagliacci

 

I read in a Letterboxd review that life always leaves room for two things: a laugh and a drink. There is always room for a laugh. Like that Simpsons screenshot about this only being the worst day of your life ‘so far.’ A similar wildly popular scene I don’t really care for is Peter Griffin talking about the Godfather. Of course it insists upon itself – anything made with sufficient sincerity does. Your gripe with it should at least address whether it is a piece of art that merits asking you to suffer it insisting upon itself. It reads as very fair criticism of something like Deadpool. I think we would all benefit from more radical sincerity. Me especially because it would allow me to take even more advantage of deadpan delivery – which is how I get to express myself while compromising myself as little as possible. The concept of losing aura – something that always been present in our consciousness even if using different vocabulary – comes at the expense of the realisation that little can be achieved without putting aura on the line. The risk of sounding stupid, vulnerable, or like some variant of irredeemable loser is perhaps one of the most humanising experiences in the world. I read The Idiot recently, thinking often about the how much of the author’s vulnerable stream of consciousness is expressed through The Prince. The person he has been in love with for most of the story finds herself unable to digest the sincerity with which the Idiot makes an idiot of himself, often responding caustically with deliberate intention of causing hurt. She is, nevertheless, moved despite herself to feel the innate humanity in the poor consumptive. I had a phase where I was obsessed with watching cat reels on Instagram, which at some point made way for baby reels, and then into nothing in particular as I stopped scrolling.

Waiting nervously outside courtrooms recently, I have rediscovered the habit of mindless scrolling. It is incredible how much content is out there. The room for a drink remains empty, but shot after shot of laughter is being supplied via my bottomless cup. But doctor…

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