Why the Bleep did I Stop Writing Poems?

Welcome to the Agglomeration

Today in TOK we watched the beginning of an internationally revered film, "What the Bleep do we know?" Why do I know it's internationally revered? Because a fellow classmate was on the Wikipedia page of this film a few days ago. Coincedence? I think not. Flawed logic and reasoning? I think not. Incredibly tenuous causal link between two events intended only to introduce a 'First Impressions' style of critique of the film in question? Absolutely.

So from this first 40 minutes of this video, what did I think? Well, why don't I start by telling you what we did see in this excerpt of the film? We saw a fictional storyline intertwined with documentary-style interviews with eccentric and/or normal scientists commenting on the fact that religion deprives us of any responsibility we have in this world whatsoever, and instead we should turn to quantum physics, a wonderful haven of good news because it provides with an answer to our quest for truth. What is this elaborate answer that quantum mechanics provides us? No, it's not elaborate at all; it merely states that it does not have the answer that we're looking for.

Ok, thank you 'What the Bleep do we know?'. That was about as helpful as going to a convenience store looking for a tub of Blue Ribbon Double Chocolate Ice Cream, waiting 2 hours only to have them tell you that you were actually at a strip club run by two Hollywood pimps. (Yes, I thought that was a good reference to 'Memories of West Street and Lepke' as well)

Moving on from that, let me analyse the ground that the storyline - the part that isn't made up unlike the subatomic world which is made up but it isn't made up that it is made up, it's just made up - covers in this viewing period. A deaf female photographer with some sort of hideous speech impediment goes on a journey and quest for life as she encounters a myriad of interesting characters including an over-enthusiastic at the expense of likeable best friend (well certainly the only friend, anyway), a ridiculous eye-beating shaman who suddenly receives an epiphany of Spanish conquistador ships after some interestingly placed scripted dialogue, a kid with a basketball with the powers of stopping time, being in more than one place at once and also being just unnervingly friendly to the point of creepiness, as well as an announcer spruiking the efforts of a Zen Buddhist monk who managed to change the moods of water crystalline structures by blessing them.

I'm not making this up.

She then goes on to meet a giant hamburger from outer space with the ability to dissect living hula hoops, an Armenian chef who specialises in cooking tea-braised Hindu dictionaries, an American celebrity with breast implants with a radius the size of the depth of the Mariana trench, as well as a cryptic physicist who speaks only in Piglatin at vernal equinoxes and when his wife is out in the city searching for prostitutes. (So not only now did I make another reference to Lowell, but I did it in such a way that I'm breaking social taboos at the same time. How much better can it get?)

Ok, I made that last bit up.

But you can see with the extent of my sarcasm how I really felt about the film. Ultimately, this film had no message. Well, OK , let me rephrase that. No message that you would care to remember after a night with your favourite person in the Maldives as the rising sea levels drowned you in the heat of passion. (Yes, I'm compensating for the lack of poem with poetic language) My friend Ngiammy argued that this was due to the fact that I had only seen 40 minutes of a film that is 106 minutes long. My refutation for that is pretty much, why the hell are those 40 minutes there then?

Save the Whales.
Don't watch this film.

Revised Rating - 0.5/10

Disclaimer due to unsatisfied customers: Let me clarify the fact that this rating system was relative. It is merely saying that IF Ngiammy's rating was 10 then mine would be 1.5. I just didn't think 0.53621472458234713481478234581781/10 was at all appropriate and so I required a name for comparision and Ngiammy's name just happened to be used before he generally takes these things with three pinches of salt. Obviously not. Furthermore, I must concede the fact that it is comical and quizzical. It makes me want to laugh because it's an utter waste of time and it puzzles me because people actually watch this and enjoy it.

Till next time, may you agglomerate all your unpremeditated contemplations