The day after the day after
: Bored of sitting in my own little big of global warming — see post below on the malfunctioning airconditioning at the Skokie DoubleStump — I went across the street to see The Day After Tomorrow.
I don’t want to be the last person on this warm earth to give it the pan it deserves. It’s filled with career-crushing (read: Quaid-crushing) performances. It’s chocked full of laughable lines (“break out the snow shoes!”). It’s built on bad science as flimsy as the Arctic ice pack. It’s The Poseidon Adventure — but with an agenda.
But it’s more than another crappy movie. It enrages me. And here’s why:
It’s bad enough that they picked on New York to destroy. It’s bad enough that I had to watch our city being torn apart — again. But it’s worse that The Day After Tomorrow makes it our fault. This extends the horrid and offensive thinking of the age: That we brought terrorism on ourselves. This is the sick side effect of the age of victimhood: When it’s not enough to enjoy the masochistic state of being the victim it’s better to blame it on yourself. It’s Fiskthink.
