I made it all the way to the opening credits before I wanted to
kill someone write my Senator to bring back the pillory for financial crimes. I almost feel guilty for hating the spokesman for the financial trade association as much as I do; unlike his bosses, at least he earns an honest paycheck. Whatever. I keep hoping that Aragorn will ride in on a horse.
You just end up feeling like the world is a different place than you thought it was. It’s like Alan Moore wrote down what is real in 1987, newspapers are comic books and people who understand it can end up like either Rorschach or the Comedian. Fight it and lose, or roll with it until one day you realize that the system is even more of a cruel joke than you thought.
Thirty minutes in and my wife wants to turn it off. She asked me why we should bother to know more of this crap when nothing can or will be done about it.
An hour in, and now my wife’s chief problem is that the people who destroyed the world look like a bunch of overdressed schmucks. She could almost handle some brilliant cabal executing an evil plan behind the scenes. This idea that we are actually at the mercy of careless douchebags who would need help to fill out a 1040-EZ scares her more than anything else. I watched the Bush years close enough that I got over that already, though ‘got over it’ is really not the right word.