Second Monolith Bites Dust

Criminal Intent

DATELINE:  Monkeys Win.

After a heist of art critics of the Utah monolith, there has now been a second brazen attack in Romania. The bad copy of the first monolith has now disappeared into the night.

Apparent vandals who moonlight as art critics came to the national park with a wheelbarrow and a brazen attitude, telling people to take their pictures now because the monolith would soon be gone.

Reports are now circulating that these were Trump supporters who believe they can make a monolith disappear at will—and they plan to make the recent U.S. presidential election disappear too.

The culprits include a man who has boasted of his crime against crime, setting himself up as a vigilante to remove “trash” from pristine desert areas. It turns out this cretin was banned from the national parks for his own abusive behavior.

Self-styled art critics, trash collectors, and Trump conspiracy theorists, now have combined to steal whatever is not nailed down. Ballots are next.

Whether the same crew flew into Transylvania, or whether it was a local group of crypto-Nazis we have not yet determined.

 

In any respect, the people above the law are now making the law the rest of society. So it usually is before a Hitler take-over.

 

From dust to dust, so goes the short lifecycle of a monolith.

 

 

 

 

 

Monkeys Strike Back at Monolith

Vini, Vide, Da Vinci

DATELINE: Gone Too Soon

It came. It was seen, and it was stolen. Vini, vide, da vinci.

You knew that our pandemic age of value-less and soul-less humans would strike back at the giant tin Monolith discovered in Utah.

Mono is a sickness, and monolith is the side-effect. There is no vaccine for stolen property of artistic expression.

Indeed, not a week after it was discovered, visitors to the site found tire tracks and a missing objet d’art.

Yes, the hollow tin homage to 2001 has been hijacked and taken right from under our satellite image. It was illegally installed in Utah, and the likelihood that authorities will pursue the criminals who took it, is about as likely as the notion that the thieves did not wear face masks and failed to maintain social distance during their dastardly action.

Some imbecile scrawled the message, “bye, bitch,” in the area where the monolith once stood. Respectability was never a hallmark of small minds. Creeps continue to creep in the dark.

The item, standing twelve feet tall, but probably light weight was not guarded—and it did not take long for pranksters and people of bad will to come out in the dark to steal the phenomenon from others who were appreciative of its totem.

You cannot live in a world of lawless presidents and viral herds and expect anything less than vandals and desecration to be at your doorstep.

The strange Monolith that provided some escapist hope for many may yet be re-discovered as idiots thrive on shenanigans to parade their criminally empty heads. These idiots will likely brag about their drunken revels to other drunken revelers.

You cannot have a perfect crime in an imperfect world. May the Curse of Corona Virus beset these vile thieves.

 

2001: Mythic Movie

HAL 9000

DATELINE: A Space Odyssey

A documentary made in 2001 is about 2001: A Space Odyssey. According to narrator James Cameron, no slouch as director of Titanic, he thinks Kubrick’s film remained the greatest sci-fi ever made.

It is now over 50 years later. Kubrick died shortly before MMI. However, a few others were still able to give interviews: notably author Arthur C. Clarke and star Keir Dullea.

Others gave insights into their small parts in the film and how some special effects were accomplished before CGI. It also discussed the villainous computer, HAL, who was neurotic and became homicidal during the film. Today 20 years later, we know AI is bordering on powerful. His voice belonged to actor Douglas Rain who died in 2018.

HAL eschewed usual robotic cliches. He was only a giant red eye, staring at us with his epicene human voice. It was chilling.

When this film was made, Arthur C. Clarke noted 2001 was already in the mainstream of literary and scientific study. He had never seen such a set as the Moon where the Monolith was buried. That, he said, was meant to be the end of the film.

Instead, it turned out to be the start: Kubrick wanted to film for another year, but ran out of money. And, philosophically, he became intrigued with the idea of intelligent life elsewhere in the universe.

Keir Dullea spoke about his relationship with HAL and how it was a film that gave him chills until the day he was interviewed. He also discussed his scenes as an old man—thinking 30 years later, how old he had become.

The film allegedly was a box office failure at first, but word-of-mouth made it spark to life. We recall seeing it originally in Cinerama in 1968 to a packed audience enthralled. We were not on LSD, but were dumb-founded by the sights.

Never before had there been anything quite like it.

The beauty, the music, the gentle pace, and the shocking future, made us think we could hardly wait for it to arrive. How wrong we were.