atomic_fungus (atomic_fungus) wrote,

#6611: Damn it, Aquaman, you had one job.

That was...disappointing.

One spoiler, but it's something that happens near the beginning of the movie and it's part of Black Manta's origin.

Okay, so the guy who will soon be Black Manta is a pirate. Using a stolen "stealth" submarine, he and his men seize control of a Russian submarine. They come aboard wearing diving gear, including full face masks with breathing apparatus.

Aquaman arrives to save the say. Stuff happens, and Black Manta's father ends up pinned under a torpedo in the torpedo room which is (because reasons) rapidly filling up with seawater. Aquaman shrugs and leaves, and Black Manta desperately tries to save his father from drowning, and fails.


They're both wearing underwater breathing gear; and to further the point, they are in the sub's torpedo room which--gosh!--will have equipment for moving torpedos around, things like cranes and winches and so forth. So Black Manta's father could, y'know, put his SCUBA mask back on, and breathe canned air for a few minutes while Black Manta rigs a chainfall or something to lift the torpedo off his dad.

Gadzooks that was so fucking stupid I was yelling at the TV.

Oh, one other spoiler: the sub didn't sink; it ends up being used later by the bad guy. So it's not like Black Manta's father was going down in a thousand fathoms of water, well below the crush depth of the hull.

The point being, there was plenty of time to save his life even without Aquaman's help, and the only reason--THE ONLY REASON--Black Manta's father died was so he would want to kill Aquaman.

Pure plot-devicium. Stupid, bad writing.

The movie looked spectacular (which you'd expect from a movie shot mainly in front of green screens) and I like the actual Aquaman character--who knew Khal Drogo could act?--but the plot was 100% predictable even to me calling individual lines of dialogue and stuff was happening solely because "we need X so we can do Y". Nothing that was as utterly nonsensical as the scene in the torpedo room, but still.


* * *

This kind of thing is why I don't like going into the city. The news media carefully do not report these stories, because they run counter to the narrative. But you do not want to be caught in one of these flash riots, and there is literally no way to predict them nor is there a way to defend yourself from them (other than don't be there when it happens).

The police will not help.

* * *

Do you recall, from the other day, when I was talking about how dirty "renewable energy" actually is? Read this if you don't believe me.

Friend of the Fungus Mike Hartley puts it best:
Conservation seeks to ensure that resources are always available for humans to consume wisely. Environmentalism as it is currently practiced is pure malthusian BS.
My maternal grandfather was a naturalist; from him I get (through my mother) my knowledge of nature and how it works, and my understanding of Man's reasonable and proper role in the world.

We have a responsibility to use wisely what we have been given--but we are allowed to use it. Humans have a right to exist and build and grow and multiply; our roads and houses and vehicles are just as natural as a beaver dam or an anthill or a beehive. We should--we must--be wise and responsible, and not crap up the ecosystem, but we do that. We pollute, we realize we should not, we stop polluting and find better ways to do what we want to do.

Unless, of course, environmentalists get in the way.

* * *

There's a reason they got the guy to play the Mountain in Game of Thrones.

* * *

Yesterday, while trekking across "the ass" to get from the closed haircut place to the open one, I was driving eastbound on I-80 in moderately heavy traffic. I'm in the right lane going 65-ish, keeping up with traffic, and ZOOOOOM these two asshats on sportbikes go whizzing past, weaving in and out of cars, splitting lanes. These boneheads had to be going 75-80.

In those circumstances, everything must go exactly right or you're all over the pavement, literally. One mistake on your part, one bonehead move on someone else's, and sploot that's it for you.

Maybe you've never had an accident. Riding like that, you'll only need to have one.

It reminded me of that bonehead who always did the thing where he'd set the throttle on his bike, then stand up on the seat while whizzing down the highway at speed. I saw a story some years ago to the effect that he'd been killed while riding his bike...doing his favorite stunt. "Oh," people said, "he died doing what he loved!" I can guarantee you that if he'd known in advance that doing it that particular time would mean his death, he wouldn't have done it. He didn't love it that damned much.

But he assumed that because he'd done it X many times before with no trouble that this time would be no different. That's the problem with that "I've never had an accident" attitude.

So when one or both of those idiots scatters his internal organs across the highway, I guess the best I can hope for is that the person whose car they hit doesn't have PTSD too badly.


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