“Please don’t tell anyone this, but I want to be happy.” –Hannah Horvath, “Girls”
It’s always a dangerous thing to make grand, sweeping statements about epochs of pop culture. For every example you can offer up supporting your argument, there are as many (if not more) counterexamples there to prove you wrong. But the fun thing about discussing pop culture is that you rarely actually hurt anyone when making such bold declarations. Nations don’t go to war over outlandish statements. Only comment boards do. There are times at which the former seems preferable to the latter, but those are few and far between.
But the events last Monday here in Boston have me feeling bold. This is after making me feel numb, then bored, then scared, then confused, and then another dozen or so dizzying shifts in attitude that have landed me here in front of my keyboard. It wasn’t just that knowing how quickly things can change in a heartbeat suddenly prompted me to finally expunge what’s been percolating in my brain. Rather, it’s the way in which certain events reveal just how slow change actually occurs, and thus it’s difficult to see changes that move at the relative speed of continental drift. And it’s important when a instance of illumination occurs to document what’s actually shown in that briefest of moments. So it’s time to write things down before they, like the all too acute fear in the wake of the Boston Marathon tragedy, soon dissipate.