I’m having a “the only way is through” feeling about Selected Declarations, which isn’t fantastic given it’s only the second regular post. Whatever deep thoughts needing writing about I thought I would have every Monday, I do not really have them. It’s also been a very 2020-2022 week, very unexpectedly, and I don’t want to write about 2020, 2021, or 2022. I’m not sure there’s a year with a 20- I’d like to write about. Either terrible things happened, or we learned terrible things had always been happening.

Bliss as ignorance.

But the only way to know if Selected Declarations can be a thing is to do Selected Declarations.

I debated being cute and using “make” instead of “do.” It was a conscious decision not to be cute about it.

Due to the very 2020-2022 week, I’ve spent a lot of time on an exercise bike, reading Little Women, or playing the new Apple Arcade Spades: Card Game+. Besides the day job, besides watching a lot of Netflix “Lost in Space,” besides the Godzilla and Star Trek phone games, it’s been those activities I’ve most anticipated.

Somehow when I was a kid, I bypassed Little Women, despite reading primarily female authors. I wasn’t shitty about only reading male authors until… well, actually, until undergrad when I was doing a minor in creative writing. I definitely got more male-centric as I got older—and I imagine I missed Little Women because I stopped reading that obviously female-written books in middle school. As long as it was male protagonists, lady-written books were fine. But Little Women? Too far.

And I know I read all the Laura Ingalls Wilder Little House. Like, I had a set.

But Little Women is real good.

It does not help to have seen the Greta Gerwig adaptation (though it’d be fascinating to look at how Gerwig adapted). There are just inevitable events to anticipate. And, then, I suppose, also one not-inevitable event to expect.

It also doesn’t not help to be familiar with the story; one just has to keep a tight lip and try not to bawl too much during you know who’s scenes.

Alcott’s use of transition and summary is also baller, which means it would’ve been just what I needed in undergrad writing.

But, you know, misogyny.

Next month’s book is finalized—I need to remind myself not to accelerate given all the other reading and watching plans for the year—just still in my Christmas trip luggage, so I’m not sure about the title.

Other developments—I’ve committed to a “home office” redesign in the next few weeks, with painting involved. I’m not sure it’s Selected Declarations fodder, but it’d give me something to write about, I suppose. So only another fifty of these posts are left before I reevaluate the format.

Good grief.

If The Stop Button has a theme, it’s killing your darlings. It’s a lot easier to shit on a childhood favorite than to expound on Fellini. At its best, it’s curated nostalgia. At its worst, it’s assassinated nostalgia. Except I haven’t been watching and reading about many old favorites. I made a 2022 watch list, and most of it’s repeats of old movies, a handful of suggestions, and the not new but newly released Edward Burns. What’s novel about the watch list is it’s doable. It’s not 370 movies or even a hundred. It shouldn’t be hard to get through at all.

I may keep track of how many previously beloved darlings get the chopping block for a future Selected Declaration. I also may not. Early days here with the Selected Declarations. Early days.

I’m not sure how I’m going to structure these posts—I haven’t really gotten to the planned topic, how at the same time I’m disappointed in Tom Holland Spider-Man, I’m thrilled with The Matrix, as well as disinterested in the Star Wars franchise more than ever (really, “Boba Fett”?), and, I don’t know, finally finished the Scream movies. Just in time for the fifth one, only it’d take a miracle for it to be worth seeing in the theater, if at all. But would I have said the same thing about The Matrix? I say the same thing about The Batman. But that’s a long-dead darling.

While this year’s film programming is set and the comics catalog reading is set–Love and Rockets Volume 1.5 through Two (starting with Beto doing a porno, it turns out)—I’m staying loose with the TV. No extensive schedule, just a few titles scrawled in no order. What’s funny about the TV posts is they’re the most popular. I mean, somehow, the Spider-Man 3 post got confused for a bootleg link, but otherwise, the TV and streaming posts get the most eyes. Not, however, the TV or streaming posts for shows I’m interested in. It was a big deal for me to get to watch “Michael Hayes,” but it was not a big deal for the blog.

On the other hand—although the second season is good, actually—I’ve got no investment in “The Witcher: Season Two” posts getting hits.

Though I suppose I don’t invest in any posts getting hits. It’s my darlings I’m lopping off at the neck, not anyone else’s. Well, mostly. Sometimes it’s fun to shit on bad movies in general, not ones I used to like specifically.

I watched Scream 4 to balance out Spider-Man and Matrix, but it’s too bland; it confirmed what I already knew—media nostalgia isn’t the best investment.

So the year’s watch list will partially survey such investments. Just not as a purpose, but because it’s how I blog.

I wasn’t planning on launching Selected Declarations until 2022 (I’ve even got a topic ready), but since I’ve been inbox-bombing Stop Button subscribers with archival posts all night, I thought I’d explain in a “preview.

While I don’t have any significant plans for the blog in 2022, I did have a bunch of cleaning up to do after a misguided return to self-hosting a couple years ago. And then combining Stop Button and Comics Fondle. So there’s housekeeping from that one too. One of the things I wanted to get done was setting up better hosting for podcasts, which I did. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it through and removed all the original posts from when the episodes went live. If I’d kept them, I could’ve just edited those posts and not created a bunch of “new” posts, which WordPress.com then sent to subscribers.

My bad. I’m not going to do more than five a day now I’ve got the formatting finalized. Rough estimate, it’ll be a month of the extra (old) posts. I’d love to figure a way around it, but it’s also a bit of work to get each post done with the new Gutenberg blogging system, so I don’t really want to do more than five a day. I can make templates for embedding the podcast episodes no problem. The header art is another story; I’ve decided to give everything its own header image. Not a problem for the Best of An Alan Smithee Podcast because Matt did a bunch of nice new headers back when we posted that project; probably not a problem for Podcast 60 because they cover single subjects (i.e., episodes), but it’s a pain for the old Comics Fondle episodes. We never thought of doing individual episode art. I’ve found an all-right template. Nothing earth-shattering, but visually distinct. Actually, I’m going to work on it a little more.

Otherwise, 2022 blogging plans are getting through some catalog films and a read-through of more Love and Rockets. Through volume two. I’ve got a nice schedule worked out for both, which should also allow for a return to prose reading. I’ve had Little Women sitting waiting for a read (to be fair, the still exceptionally difficult to talk about even in internal monologue book project derailed that read), but 2022’s got a couple memoirs dropping I’ve been wanting for years—Jamilah Lemieux and Raquel Willis’s—so time to get back to reading.

Reading without thinking about writing. What a concept.

Selected Declarations will be at least weekly posts. The name is a Harry Mathews nod, though I never grokked him as much as I thought I would. There’s also a wink-wink constraint; if someone guesses the what and why, there’s a No Prize with your name on it.

Anyway.

Buckle up; we’re in for another unimaginably stupid year.

Despite learning multiple times over the last eleven or so months I don’t like soft launches, I’ve been doing a bit of a soft launch on The Stop Button for the past few weeks. I don’t even remember how long… actually, it’s almost a month.

Basically it’s two related posts a day, though the daily posting is more about having the posts to post and not a real schedule. The idea is any time there’s a post, there’s something else to read with it. Why? I do like doing multiple posts a day because I like making the header images (hashtag real talk); plus there’s all that potential WordPress WordAds revenue. Someday it’ll be successful. Someday.

Anyway.

Last summer, during which we watched “Schitt’s,” Doctors Who Eleven through Thirteen, obviously the first part of the second part of “Sabrina,” “Cursed,” “Kim’s Convenience,” and no doubt a handful of other series… I wrote no posts because I was working on a book.

There are surprisingly fewer things to say about the book which is no longer a project than I thought there’d be if it went this way but… 2020 did manage to temper expectations. Though all good 2020 news was really good news.

So while I’d slowed Stop Button then, you know, stopped it… I’d never really given any thought to restarting it. There were x amount of posts in the queue, but whatever 2020 blogging goals I’d had got chucked with ‘rona and then the book. I’m sure I wanted to read more comics. I’ve been wanting to read more comics since 2012. It never happens.

When I got writing again—after telling a friend how easily griping about whatever I’d read or seen and him telling me “it’s what you do,” I decided I’d try to maximize my time on blogging, which in this case means more comics, more movies, more posts. And tackle some of the tougher titles. Ones I’ve been avoiding. And, you know, Swamp Thing, because always Swamp Thing.

The missing coverage on television or streaming will not be filled in.

The blog itself has a snappy new theme and a bunch of broken image links—did I ever write about the Linode debacle—and fixing up the site will be a slow process. The photo filter software on the M1 Mac is running under Rosetta 2 and it’s not a joy to work with so I’m waiting to be able to enjoy the work. Plus it’s just a lot of work and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve futzed with ancient posts no one reads anymore.

Self-induced misery ought to be necessary and justifiable. Otherwise flush it or stomp it down the drain.

Speaking of, I’m really hoping “Superstore” has a good finale. It’s a bummer because the season’s really solid (really good handling of Covid) and Colton Dunn’s scripts have been delightful but… just give me the Carol and Doug.

They can do better, but a Carol and Doug will suffice.

Anyway. The regular posting thing is intentional and will continue.

So, while I haven’t posted in two and a half months, I have been writing a post about once a week and letting them sit in the Ulysses inbox, waiting for when I have some time. I did not, as it turns out, have some time this weekend to move back to WordPress.com from self-hosting, but something is corrupting the database over at the Linode I’ve been running the site on for… a year? Longer? I’m bewildered how I had so much headspace to spend on blogging, given how much of it is now taken up with the book—which is going well, see below—and, you know, the now obviously empirically justified dread of reality.

Long story short, I had to move everything back over to WordPress.com and I have no idea what’s broken. There are broken image links, there are probably broken indexes. The Linode database was failing on a steady, relentless rate, so I’m not even sure what state it’s currently in and I don’t actually have time to investigate. Things just need to work right now and WordPress.com just makes things work. Especially once you give them money.

Speaking of money, we’re launching fundraising for the Eleanor Parker biography soon—imminently might be the right word—and I’ll post relevant links here.

I am planning on, if not regularly posting, at least getting the queue cleaned out next week as I make some technology changes. I may also start blogging about those technology changes. I haven’t decided. It’s going to depend on time. I could just post pictures of the stacks of lovely hardcover comics omnibuses and Blu-ray discs I was preparing for free time post-book and then realized… once the book’s done, I may never want to read or watch anything again. I may want to play sports. Who knows. Like, what did Dave do in the room all those years.

And with a 2001 deep cut in, I’ll be out.

It’s hard to imagine anyone fetishizing DVDs, though I’m sure some must. Someone out there knows each and every day he or she bought a different release of Army of Darkness. Someone out there sleeps with their Necronomicon case from The Evil Dead–didn’t it smell too? The initial Anchor Bay release (remember when Anchor Bay meant something? That was 1999, right?), not the second one. Actually, maybe someone could fetishize the early days of DVD, hunting the Internet for the best coupon–or when you could sign up for Netflix for free, over and over again, before they started the whole queue thing. I can’t even remember the names of all the places I used to buy DVDs. Now it’s Amazon, nowhere else for in print, R1 titles. Who else misses Xploited Cinema?

But this post isn’t about DVDs, it’s supposed to be about VHS. VHS is–for anyone paying attention–dead. It’s not a violent death or even an audible one. The measure for VHS’s death is something silly, like the last supplier ceasing to carry them. And I don’t think it was a first run supplier, I think it was a remainder supplier. I could be wrong. I read the article, but I didn’t pay much attention. Well, I did, actually; I did not, however, pay much attention to why VHS was all of a sudden declared dead in 2008. Declaring VHS dead–it’s been on life support since the last major release… A History of Violence, I think–is like those guys who announce, after a year of research, a recession started a year ago. I wish I could remember the name of the organization–NPR talked about them a while ago. Maybe right after gas prices fell so much.

VHS is easy to fetishize. How many different kinds of boxes did VHS tapes come in? Every video store had a slightly different box–except the cheap clear cases, which Phar-Mor started in Evanston (with the squeeze bottoms). Lots of places eventually got the cheap clear cases. A friend of mine’s supermarket had a VHS rental section–this was in Michigan, I don’t think any of the supermarkets in Evanston ever got a rental section while I was there–they had clear cases. They might have been a little different, but it’s the same principal. With the clear case, the customer also takes the cover art. It saves both shelf space and money–the cover art takes up room–even Blockbusters eventually pulled cover boxes of old titles to make room. Remember when Blockbusters first opened? It was a sea of movies you’d never seen in a regular, mainstream video store. Not just the T&A–and did the DTV T&A in the 1990s get big because Blockbuster wouldn’t carry X-rated–but the crappy horror movies, the ancient SP release of that last original Godzilla movie, the one with him and the other monster on the World Trade Center for the box art. The closest I ever came to repeating that experience of the first Blockbuster (it wasn’t until looking around one realizes there’s no point in renting most of those movies) was at DJ’s Video in Ashland, OR. That place was and might still be–but I don’t think so, because they now have a crappy website and don’t appear to rent The Legend of the Lone Ranger anymore–an amazing place.

So there were the side opening boxes, for your recordable VHS, there were the clear plastic, take the box art with you boxes, there were the black clamshell boxes, looked like a library would have them, there were the regular VHS boxes, there were the Disney-esque clamshell, which other kids’ releases later picked up, or the modified clamshell studios used for special releases (I think Anchor Bay’s VHS arm used them too). There were even the big boxes, for the older, early VHS releases.

No one fetishizes about Warner’s stupid snapper DVD cases or that weird one Fargo came in the first time it was on DVD. Or maybe someone does. Just not someone who would understand what I’m talking about here.

DVD offers anyone the opportunity to appreciate good cinema. Only a small number of significant films aren’t available widescreen–Warner and Star 80, I’m talking about you. Anyone can pop a DVD into his or her player or laptop or whatever and get a full experience of, say, Once Upon a Time in the West. That film was pan and scan on tape. I think I had the laserdisc–how did Paramount go from being a top laserdisc company to a crappy DVD company? Laserdisc also offered anyone the opportunity to appreciate good cinema. VHS offered it–except, what, Manhattan, Innerspace and The Insider–for titles shot in Academy Ratio… though, as Leonard Maltin points out, films shot 1.66:1 didn’t suffer too much. And then there was open matte to think about, so it’s hard to say how much one missed when watching 1.85:1 films on VHS. It was a case to case–I know Back to the Future was open matte 4:3, but were Super 35 films too? The non-Cameron ones?

The point.

Sorry, forgot about the point for a second.

VHS is the reason I love movies. It’s not the reason I appreciate good cinema. It’s the reason I know what The Thin Man is and Die Hard and Star Trek II (remember when you realize Khan is really a great film, not just a good Star Trek movie). I watched American Graffiti on tape, Citizen Kane, The Searchers, Manhunter, Thief (the non-director’s cut). I watched Monster Squad on VHS and Iron Eagle and Highlander and Predator 2. I used to buy used VHS tapes at my video store, used to get on a list for a used copy.

“Be Kind Rewind.” “One dollar rewind charge.”

VHS rewinding. The tape coming out of the machine when something went really, really wrong. The security stickers. The worn out labels. Cracked cases–the glass part where you saw through to the tape. Dusty VHS tapes, not kept in their proper boxes. The little tab you broke out to make sure it was write-protected. The difference between SP, LP, EP, SLP. Super-VHS. I loved my Super-VHS player (and still do today). DVHS. I remember when I heard about DVHS. I wanted one of the recorders. How did Tivo beat DVHS? Doesn’t anyone want to save something they record off of TCM. I still have tapes from AMC, back before they sucked, of things no one else has shown. I saw Wild River on tape (from AMC). But this post isn’t an AMC eulogy.

I don’t think growing up on DVD someone can really love movies. I think they can like them, maybe be an enthusiast, but not really love them. There’s no exploring anymore–Netflix fixed that problem. You can’t search for an old VHS tape at a video store ten miles away–I didn’t see the 1976 King Kong for years because our video store didn’t carry it. When we did find it, the store had a two tape set. Two tape sets… I loved two tape sets.

Loving movies means participating. It means pouring over movie guides–do they even publish Maltin anymore… probably. But they don’t put out the Blockbuster guide, I’m sure. IMDb fixes that one. (No, I won’t insert an absurdist Amazon owns IMDb conspiracy against movie guides here).

Swamp Thing came in a big clamshell! So did Supergirl.

Obviously, there are exceptions–I am ranting, after all. I’m sure there are a hundred kids out there who love movies because of DVD, though I don’t know how it’s possible, given how comparatively crappy DVD selection is to what VHS was–I mean, where’s The Magnificent Ambersons, Warner?

Maybe ninety-eight.

But much like declaring VHS dead in 2008, I’m a little late here. The last teenager who would have grown up in a VHS, video store, movie guide culture would have done so in 2001. I think I knew that kid–I was working at a video store in 2001. And I’m sure there are some stragglers, but by now, as we approach Odyssey Two (or is it going to be The Year We Make Contact next year?), it’s got to be over.

I mean, is it possible to really love movies if you haven’t sat through a pan-and-scan Jaws or a stretched up Die Hard? I’d hazard a guess most people–movie-watching folk–don’t know the week’s DVD releases. There are usually a couple hundred. The Blockbuster I go to only lists like seven things for each week. Back in the VHS days, people couldn’t wait for movies to come out. Reservation lists. Wait lists. Late fees. Tracking.