For those of you who know me quite well – the following should not be a surprise: if you ask me about – oh lets say any movie made in the last 100 years – not only will I never have seen it, I probably will not even have heard of it. My recognition of movie related people is even less.
Yes, I have heard of Tim Burton (saw exhibit in Melbourne last August) and Kubric (wan’t that 2001 – a Space Odessy) and the Coen Brothers (Fargo). Beyond that I will admit that I am ignorant and have lived my life in peaceful oneness with the universe without knowing or caring what is currently making money, getting nominated or being shown on transcontinental flights.
All of this makes the evening seem close to an out of body experience. The DH and the Mole decided that I should see The Men who stare at Goats. Now, I am a member of the hippy and Viet Nam generation. I remember treating all too many stupids who tried various assorted hallucinogenic drugs. I have been to Ft Bragg and I most certainly know a number of people in Special Forces.
(Should I mention that I spent 1991-93 answering Congressionals at the Surgeon General’s Office? At least I was spared the drug ones unless they were related to CBRNE.) But anyway, I discovered more than I ever wanted to know about stupid research programs of the 1960s. Note I said 1960s, not 1970s or 1980s or 1990s, or present day. No matter what – Ft Bragg believes in hair cuts and Nubian goats are are quite interesting as is their distribution in the world.
Having said all of that, I am still not sure why I sat through about 90 minutes of one of the strangest and most pointless movies to which I have been invited to view. It was hard to keep track of “when” the action was taking place. It was hard to visualise “where” the action was taking place (hint, sand is not sand. Different areas of the world have different colors of sand and they just about all have characteristic vegetation. The road between Nav Star and Talil has not moved in the last 25 years). The plight of a -what? late 20s early 30s – guy having an identity crisis is so far from my understanding that it left me rooting for the goats.
The movie was good for being able to knit another repeat of blocks on Chess. And as a prelude to watching Alice in Wonderland which is rated PG for the smoking caterpillar and violence. Go figure. So I spent the evening sort of staring at the TV screen and wondering why ….