Right, now, where were we? Ah yes, the state of modern entertainment. And let me tell you, it’s a sorry state indeed. It’s not “entertainment,” it’s an aural assault and a visual vexation! My heavens, I sometimes think they’re trying to give us all a headache. The noise, the flashing lights, the sheer lack of anything resembling a cohesive story or a proper melody. It’s all just… too much. Far too much!
Used to be, you could enjoy a nice film or listen to a pleasant tune without feeling like your eardrums were being attacked by angry bees. Now? It’s a constant barrage of cacophony and chaos. And the messages! What messages are they sending to these young people? It’s a disgrace, I tell you. A pure, unadulterated disgrace!
The Cinematic Calamity: Explosions Over Empathy
Let’s start with the movies. Oh, the movies! It’s all about “special effects” now, isn’t it? Explosions, CGI monsters, superheroes flying around, smashing things to bits like overgrown toddlers in a toy store. You can’t even follow the plot half the time, what with all the noise and the shaky cameras. And they never seem to actually end! They just set up for the next one, like a never-ending saga of pointless destruction. It’s exhausting!
I want a good plot, engaging characters you can actually care about, and a clear narrative that makes sense from beginning to end. Like “Casablanca” or “Gone with the Wind”! You could follow those stories. You felt something for the people in them. Now, it’s just a cacophony of loud noises and flashing images designed to distract you from the fact that the story makes absolutely no sense. And the action scenes go on forever! How many times can one car flip over before it gets boring? Apparently, an infinite number, if Hollywood has anything to say about it.
And the language! Good heavens, do they teach them no manners in these Hollywood schools? Every other word is a curse word. It’s not clever, it’s just crude. My grandmother would have washed their mouths out with soap, and she was a saint! It’s like they’re trying to be edgy, but they just come across as uneducated. And the excessive violence! Heads exploding, blood spurting everywhere. It’s just gratuitous. Is this what passes for entertainment now? It’s sickening. It’s not just a movie; it’s a moral degradation, I tell you.
And the remakes! Why do they keep remaking classics? “Oh, we’re going to put a modern spin on ‘Mary Poppins’ or ‘The Wizard of Oz’.” No! Stop! Some things are perfect as they are. You don’t need to add grit or make them “darker.” Leave the innocent things alone! It’s just a lack of original ideas, isn’t it? They’ve run out of stories to tell, so they just rehash the old ones, but worse. And usually with more explosions and more swearing. It’s insulting to the originals, and frankly, insulting to our intelligence.
And these “documentaries” that pop up on those streaming services. Half of them are just sensationalized drivel, full of speculative theories and shaky cameras. And the other half are about some scandal involving celebrities who probably just made it up for attention anyway. Where are the good, educational documentaries about nature, or history, or how things actually work? My goodness, the youth today could learn a thing or two from a good documentary about the lifecycle of a butterfly, not some exposé on who cheated on whom. It’s all just cheap thrills and manufactured outrage.
The Musical Meltdown: A Plea for Melody
And the music! Oh, dear Lord, the music. It’s not music, it’s just noise. Bang bang crash, mumble mumble mumble. You can’t understand a single word they’re singing, and even if you could, it’s probably about something utterly nonsensical or, worse, something utterly inappropriate. Where are the melodies? Where are the instruments you can actually hear? No, it’s all synthesizers and autotune. It sounds like a robot trying to sing in a tin can!
I saw one of these “rappers” on the television the other day, and he was just shouting into the microphone about… I don’t even know what. Nonsense words! And dressed like a hooligan! My generation had Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Ella Fitzgerald. That was music. Music you could dance to, music you could sing along to, music that didn’t make you want to plug your ears with cotton wool. It had rhythm, it had soul, and it had a melody you could hum. This modern “music” just gives me a headache and makes me want to tell them to turn it down!
And these concerts! They’re not concerts, they’re spectacles. Blaring lights, smoke machines, and ear-splitting volume. You can barely hear the singer over the bass, and half the time they’re just prancing around anyway, not actually singing. And the tickets! They cost an arm and a leg! For what? To stand in a crowd of sweaty teenagers and pretend you’re having a good time while your eardrums slowly disintegrate? No thank you. I’d rather listen to a nice vinyl record at home, with a cup of tea and my knitting. That’s real music appreciation.
And don’t get me started on the lyrics. Good heavens, the lyrics! They’re either utterly nonsensical, or they’re so vulgar they make you blush. And the constant repetition! They take one phrase and repeat it a hundred times, as if that makes it clever. It just makes it irritating. Where’s the poetry? Where’s the storytelling? Where’s the subtle wit that made you smile? It’s all just blunt force trauma to the ears. And these kids today with their “headphones” glued to their ears, blasting that racket. No wonder they can’t hear anything. They’re deafening themselves! It’s a tragedy, really. A very preventable tragedy.
And the “music videos”! Oh, the utter absurdity. Half-naked people prancing about, flashing lights, bizarre concepts that make no sense whatsoever. It’s just another vehicle for exhibitionism, isn’t it? It has nothing to do with the actual music. It’s a desperate attempt to grab attention, and frankly, it’s just tiresome. It’s not art; it’s a circus. And not even a good circus, like the ones with elephants and trapeze artists. More like a very confused street performer with bad taste.
The Necessity of My Critique: Because Someone Has To Turn Down the Volume
The entire entertainment industry is just one giant, bloated mess of self-importance and superficiality. It’s a constant reminder that for all their wealth and fame, many of these people seem utterly devoid of genuine artistic merit or meaningful contribution to society. Beyond selling fizzy drinks or shilling ridiculous fashion lines, what are they actually doing? It’s all so tiresome, so frivolous, so… unnecessary. And yet, we’re bombarded with it every single day. Someone, please, make it stop. I yearn for a time when music was soulful and movies were stories, not just visual noise. It’s a sad state of affairs, indeed. A very sad state of affairs.
So, here at The Manager’s Desk, we will continue to dissect this pandemonium. We will question the choices, lament the decline, and demand a return to something resembling quality and common sense. Because if we don’t, who will? Will we just let them bombard our senses with cacophony and chaos until we’re all deaf and dazed? Not on my watch!
Join me. Read my critiques. Share your own exasperations in the comments (but keep it civil, no shouting, unless it’s absolutely warranted). Together, we can at least make a respectable fuss. Maybe, just maybe, if enough of us make enough noise, someone, somewhere, will finally listen. Someone will step up and manage this global circus. Until then, you can find me right here, at “The Manager’s Desk,” preparing my next perfectly reasonable, totally warranted, and entirely necessary complaint. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I heard the neighbor’s dog barking at a squirrel again. Honestly, the nerve! And it sounds like they’re playing that awful “mumble rap” music. Good heavens!
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