The film Crow, when I think of it, also has such a rhythm. The plot is spread out for pleasure. One person is killed one by one. Poe himself is immersed in the fantasy of murder and can't extricate himself, but in the end, you can't see it. What is the logic of reasoning in it? Until the last moment, the murderer will definitely be able to go unpunished and free to commit murder, and he will never get a bullet. You run around and kill so many people. It turned out to be a fan's reckless masterpiece. It is a mental delusion, it is better to say it is for the pleasure of his own control of life and death.
However, Edgar Allan Poe is still a cross-era, and his death was arranged so hard, it seems that it is not worthwhile to be the father of suspense novels. In that dark and chaotic age, the shadowy existence recorded helplessness and panic with conclusive words, and sighed the world.
Remember what poe said is imagination now a felony?
Is imagining also a sin?
Back to the very old question, is the author responsible for his imagination? Does literature and art have a contemplating effect on people's hearts?
Whether to write or not is my problem, whether to read or not is your problem.
Obviously you do things voluntarily and spontaneously, why do you have to put it on the author's head, just because he wrote the article, and implanted the subconscious in your brain to instigate you to commit crimes from time to time?
If such a charge is convicted, imagination is indeed a crime.
Besides, the boundary of taking evil as evil or beauty as beauty is not consistent with the discussion point of sin. Sin is discussed, but the judgment of evil or beauty lies in the human heart, and it does not happen. People use vivid and wonderful words to describe novels, and It does not mean that the same things placed in reality are good, show the right, bad or good is evaluated relative to the overall syntactic order of conception, and once the event is involved, the author or director himself does not necessarily have to describe the good, artistic The works are virtual, and it is necessary to deter and educate through the virtuality of evil. What's more, even without novels, there will still be murder, darkness and tyranny in the world.
The only thing that can solve the problem of crime once and for all is not whether the author writes detective novels or not, murder violence and pornographic clips, but whether the society has the ability to purify itself, through mutual care and connection From evil. The role of the media is not to look at and increase circulation, but to pay attention to the origin of the event. The role of the government is not to play on the scene and to be high-sounding, but to provide a platform to solve problems. A person, introverted or extroverted. Well, it's enough to feel the world with his heart, pay attention to what's going on, and respond to make it a little bit better.
Pull away. . . . In short, whether Edgar Allan Poe was guilty or not, he died, and he also lost the dark world and his sweetheart, Emily.
The galloping beast was at last dying, and sat begging God's mercy.
Suddenly I remembered, this man, Zeng Heng smiled and said, if there really is a God, then would he actually watch all this suffering and stand by?
Emily's father hated him because he wrote dirty books, was an atheist, and was an alcoholic.
The passers-by in the tavern hated him because he was poor, had no money, and even claimed to be poe instead of poor when he was poor.
Even in the eyes of the murderer, he was just a scumbag, and he felt that the face-to-face final confrontation made him a little embarrassed.
Poe, this time became a person, his last writing was not to hope, but to the despairing forever, in the world only Emily can appreciate him and want to spend a lifetime with him, but even if That's it, it's coming to an end.
Tianburen sees all things as cud-dogs, and Poe can't understand it in the end. He has been decadent all his life, and the empty sigh lingers for a long time.
At the end of the film, there was a bang of a bullet, and the intense music followed, and I was slightly pleased. Anyway, I struggled out of this chaotic film and took a breath.
Looking back at the director, it turned out that it was the same one as V for Vendetta. I couldn't help but smile. It was indeed the rhythm of V for Vendetta. Even the lines reminded me of my favorite V from time to time.
Behind the suppression of literature and art, a beast suddenly appeared. Although it had nothing to do with it, it was also mixed and matched very well, or it was unknown whether it was a family.
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