junk
Frank loaded my external hard drive with some movies. Some really interesting, thought-provoking, sensitive movies: Youth, a movie about a composer coming to terms with old age, The End of the Tour, a movie about a writer and his scribe…blah blah. The only one I could contemplate watching was Hitman 5.
I can’t read literary books and I can’t watch the equivalent movies. It’s like, I’ve done all that, and I’m done with all that. I don’t know if it’s impatience, lack of intellectual funds, or maybe that they’re a bit boring.
Just give me junk fiction, and mindless movies.
…having said that, I’ve just sat through the opening 5 minutes of Hitman – volume whatever – and I can’t continue with it either; it’s dire. So it’s back to talk radio as the accompaniment to whatever else I’m doing at the time.