Post 115

So... yeah....

Um. I just watched Lars and the Real Girl. It was--fascinating, actually; I was surprised by how much I liked it. So one must wonder--or, rather I--I must wonder what it is that turns me on or off to a particular work of fiction.

It wouldn't take too much digging around this blog to find my various tirades against speculative fiction. In fact, you can find a pretty good little one just by going to my last post (#114; I'm too lazy to link to it, but it shouldn't be too far from this one) and following the link to my comment on Thmusings. In that comment--which I just wrote a few hours ago--I talked about how I don't like speculative fiction because it isn't based in reality. Well, Lars and the Real Girl certainly isn't very realistic; perhaps a man could find himself delusional like that, but even a very loving and extremely small town would fail to play along, I think (though that may only be a reflection of my dim view of humanity in general).

So what are we saying here about me? My suspension of disbelief is only good so long as it isn't required to permit me to momentarily believe in tangible objects that don't, to my knowledge, exist, but so long as a work of fiction uses only real-life objects and creatures, then they can be as ridiculously juxtaposed as an author wishes and I'll accept it?

Perhaps, then, I lack imagination?

I dunno. How about you go rent Lars and the Real Girl, watch it, and then tell me what you think about the whole thing.