I often feel exhausted recently. There is a sense of powerlessness, as if in the hourglass that is reset every day, trying to catch something desperately, but in the end it ends up empty-handed. I kept thinking of "Hunted: The Bomberman" in my mind. Think of the two men in marginalized groups inside. A talented person, who constantly accepts orders and obeys mechanically in the work of a boring profiler; a secret life in the mountains and forests, isolated from the world in a small wooden house with no electricity. I can feel the ecstasy after the profiler took over the bomber. And the madness behind the ecstasy. The kind of madness of constant working on the unabomber case, so that nothing else can enter his mind. Ignoring family members and indifferent to friendship, he eventually became a "weird" person who lived alone in a barren mountain and cut off social contacts like ted. The bomber's case is, for the profiler, the last straw in his life. He doubts the meaning of work and life, and he fears the powerlessness of reaching out to catch quicksand, and the bomber's case is the answer to all this. At least it seems to be. Like a profiler, I often think of ted. A child prodigy who went to Harvard at the age of 16, has a high IQ, anti-technology, and anti-industrialization. He wrote 56 pages of "Industrialized Society and Its Future", which is thought-provoking and unavoidable. He has made one after another in the dim wooden house that destroyed the victims' homes. They were also there. The vinyl records played over and over again in the wooden house, accompanied by classical music, stepped barefoot on the black soil, spinning and jumping, I closed my eyes. Every time I think of these somewhat contradictory images of ted, I can’t help but imagine if ted’s original choice was not a destructive bomb attack, but a beautiful, elegant, compact but equally aggressive and more aggressive. To express his opinions in a gentle way, what kind of person will he become? Of course, the effect that this way can achieve may be in ted It seems that there is not much attention that can be caused by the direct explosion of a bomb. The bomb is one of his thorns. He wants to pierce the numb heart of every muddled modern person in the mechanical repetition of life. If he knew that there was a man named Lu Xun in China, I think he would probably say that his bomb was the dagger-like pen in Lu Xun's hand. But the truth is that this thorn only stung one person, the profiler. Two seemingly opposite but very similar or even sympathetic people, they have the same doubts about the world. It's just that one expresses anger, and the other turns into sadness. For me, it may not be a good thing to be in contact with "Hunted: Bomberman" in this recent period. I also have doubts about these things. But behind all the suspicions, perhaps even more terrifying is the fear of a muddle-headed, inactive life. I think for a long time to come, I will often think of a sentence from this play in my mind: "You are a sheep, and you live in a world full of sheep." It is a tiny seed. , Once implanted in the brain, it will continue to grow by barbaric growth. It will magnify my doubts, it will magnify my fears. Just like what it says in "Inception".
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