耀
a
r
o
6
e
d
g
2
l
p
a
n

a
r
o
n
h
s
i
a
o
w
a
s
h
e
r
e

 

 

So… More on The Last Jedi.

Yes, I realize that I’ve already made two posts about it and that’s too many, especially for someone that isn’t a rabid Star Wars fan, necessarily, but even given what I’ve said before, this film has continued to bug me for some reason—enough that I began to suspect that it wasn’t just about the cultural dimensions that I discussed previously.

And tonight, it hit me just what was bugging me. And now I realize that others, no doubt professional film reviewers, have probably pointed to this already, being far more attuned to the craft of filmmaking and screenwriting than myself. But better late than never.

Here’s what has been bugging me, and why you shouldn’t go to see this film: it has contempt for its audience.

Why do I say this? Because it intentionally, repeatedly wastes the audience’s time. In fact, the entire thing appears to be designed to waste the audience’s time.

In yet another moment of being bugged tonight, I started mentally going over the major plotlines once again and as it turns out, every single one of them is a “shaggy dog story.” That is to say that every one of them ends with a “ha, fooled you, that didn’t matter” from the director. Every one.

The giant quest for Luke? When we finally find him, he’s quit being a Jedi. And then he gets killed off. There was no point to it. And his lightsaber and all of that build-up about it? As soon as it’s handed back to him, he tosses it without fanfare into the ocean and we never see it again. “It didn’t matter, ho, ho; sort of sorry (but not really) that we suggested it did!”

Snoke? Big, bad evil guy that we assume we’re going to get backstory for and that will be a part of things going forward? “Ha, nope, fooled you, he was nobody, we didn’t ever have a story for him, and now he’s dead.”

Rey, the new young female (presumably) Jedi? “Ha, nope. Turns out she’s literally a nobody. Betcha didn’t see that coming!”

Kylo Ren is the new Darth Vader mask guy? “Ha, nope! Gotcha again.” And then we spend time on how he’s actually going to turn to the good side. Watch for it… watch for it… watch for it… “Ha! Nope, psych again! In fact, he’s neither good nor evil, just another mixed-up nobody!”

The giant casino story? Politics and quests and chases and… “Haha, boom, you sat through that for like forty minutes just to end on a punchline about how you’ve been fooled thinking that any of it mattered. It didn’t, ta-da! Totally irrelevant. But we got you to give us your attention for a long-ass time about nothing at all! Tee hee!”

Budding romances everywhere? Chemistry and tension building? “Whoops, nope! Why do you keep getting fooled, silly? Zero romances here. We were just toying with you.”

All the references to Darth Vader surely matter, don’t they? “Nah, it was just play acting; no importance. Gosh, you’re gullible.”

Well surely the resistance will escape largely intact so that we can have a continuing story, yes? “Not really, ha. Why are you still asking these questions? This is too easy.”

Basically, not a single thing is left to “matter” at the end of the film. Every last thing that we’re instructed to pay attention to… is tossed aside with a wink and a “gotcha” once we’ve spent (too much) time investing in it. So why is there a film?

Over and over, this move happens. Apparently meaningful reference. Build-up. Build-up. Build-up. Climactic moment that leads to further development? Big fat NOPE! Dismissed! You’ve been had, sucka!

And then at the end, you walk out with a vague sense of deflation. Only now have I finally realized that the reason for this is that not a single thing mattered. Nothing that we were shown was important to or relevant to the story. And when that happens, you don’t have a story. What you have is the feeling of having been taunted—“Oh, let me tell you a story… A long time ago, far, far away, there was this immortal demon, see…. and he liked to have scrambled eggs for breakfast! Ha! And in a neighboring kingdom, there was a beautiful maiden locked up in a tower where she was away from her loved ones and from the sunshine… so she went to the shelf, got the key, and let herself out! Ha! And overhead, on the very last day of the year, the sky suddenly filled with dragons… because a bunch of kids made dragon kites as a school project that day! Ha!

And so on.

Occam’s razor ruled the day in this film. Nothing was a big deal, everything turned out to suggest that this story is a non-story and always has been.

The justification for this seems to be that there was a desire to “subvert expectations.” But this wasn’t done at the level of plotting—twists or surprises—but rather at the level of plot itself, as in “you embarrasing fanbois actually expected there to be one… so let’s subvert that expectation, shall we?”

Those responsible seem to have forgotten that if nothing ultimately matters and all was actually much less than we thought it was—indeed, everything was mundane and nothing in particular happens at the end of the day, despite what we were initially led to believe—then there’s no reason to write and tell this much-built-up non-story.

And the fact that this film does exactly that, and at the same time that there’s another film in the works when there are now zero things open or at stake in the ongoing plot arc of the series… gives one the intuitive sensation that you’ve been duped and someone thinks you’ll be easily duped again, and that there is more than a hint of passive-aggressive malice behind it all.

In retrospect and upon further reflection, I don’t hate this film “as a Star Wars fan” because I’m not necessarily all that much of one in the grand scheme of things. No, I hate this film because:

  • Its moment-by-moment is little more than progressive virtue-signalling
  • That like so many other things poo-poohs the idea of heroism or morality
  • And in the larger sense, it actively seems to intend to show contempt for me as an audience member

The more I’ve thought about it, the more I think that the film unintentionally reveals a kind of distaste that the writer and director, as well as all the other executives involved and indeed Disney itself, have for their audience.

I don’t think it’s was conscious or intentional contempt… But it’s there.

You don’t take someone’s money and time just to taunt them and throw it away with a snicker unless you really don’t think much of them and want for some reason to piss them off and bother them.

So don’t see this film. It’s not just that it’s a waste of your time; it’s that it’s been fundamentally designed for some reason to be a waste of your time, and to rub your nose in the fact that you’re such a rube that you’ll put up with such treatment. It’s like being laughed at by a cabal of ironic hipsters who think they’re smarter than you are, even if the only meaning in and of their lives is a ruthless sense of irony and an ironic retro beard resting on some ironic retro flannel. You’re there to be sardonically mocked and they think you won’t notice.

If you’re like me, you probably won’t at first, which makes it all the worse; you’ve placed your trust in these people, and they have betrayed it and imagine that this is some sort of cool move. You’ll leave feeling troubled and deflated, and only as time passes will you gradually find yourself feeling offended—totally apart from anything having to do with “Star Wars” as a brand and as a mythology, and entirely as a matter of the structure of the film itself.

There is something rotten in Hollywood these days, and this film is a good example of it. If I was going to be crass, I’d say that they’re all pissed off over there at the deplorables that buy tickets to these kinds of pulp films and they think we should all be watching more intersectional, justice-oriented fare. So they decided to justice this one up while at the same time structuring it in such a way as to poke us in the eye with a hot, fiery stick, because that’s what serves us right in consumer America, bunch of deplorable assholes that we are.

Am I reading too much into it?

Maybe. But then… when you structure a plot as a series of shaggy dog stories, you leave yourself open to having the audience read anything into it that they are inclined to read into it, because you didn’t bother to put anything in it yourself.

I am an insights guy. I am ahead of the curve, and always have been. A man before my time. A person whose ideas are on the cutting edge, etc. Some key examples:

  • In the ’80s when no one even knew what the Internet was yet, I started a software company called UNIT to build social networking tools for the coming TCP/IP (i.e. internet) world. I created the ONAS (OS Network Access System) project to bring BBS-style social interaction to desktop TCP/IP computer systems over telnet for, essentially, friending and chit-chat. Of course, WWW didn’t exist yet, but it was clear to me that real-time networked interaction about a million informal little things between average people would be a thing. People didn’t understand what I was trying to do. Why bother? Email and UUCP existed already, as did BBS systems, and only a handful of pocket protector wearing uber-geeks cared. Why would anyone want what I was building, especially when it was for an obscure networking technology that only universities used and that required very expensive computers and networks? My suggestion that eventually everyone would have TCP/IP in their bedroom on a megabit connection? Ha! Dream on, kid. The average person will never find this stuff to be cool. People are embarrassed to admit that they even know how to use a computer. There could not be anything less “general public” in the world. My project was a labor of love; it never generated any money. It was never finished. The code still lives around here somewhere. It’s written in C. Not even ANSI C. This was the ’80s. It’s in K&R C. I aborted at about 80 percent complete (core libraries and platform working, UI mostly done) because it was clear to me that I was spending a lot of time on something that I had no idea how to turn into income and that I struggled even to explain to people; it was also clear that I had no plan for what would happen in that “???” step between “finish writing software platform” and “profit.” More on this general inability later.
  • In 1992, I adopted Linux almost the moment that it was released and began to evangelize and write books, saying that Unix-like operating systems would be the next big thing in computing and that the multiuser-multiprocessing-networked operating system model would be the future of home computing. There were a lot of people that thought this was nuts—what’s the need for any of this in a personal computer? Remember, the PCs of the time had no preemptive multitasking, no security model, no concept of user identities, and no networking. By the end of the ’90s, I had been completely vindicated. By the early ’00s, every computing being shipped had a minimal multiuser, preemptive multitasking, and security model, as well as a complete and robust TCP/IP stack—even in the home.
  • In the late ’90s I ditched film photography altogether, tossed out my negatives, and began to say to people that digital photography would completely displace it, not just as a matter of initially capturing moments, but also as a matter of archiving them, and that the big problem and space of innovation would not be imaging (which everyone presumed would never catch up, but I never had any doubt about) but in fact how to curate, store, database, and transmit or preserve these new archives, especially once everyone was a photographer that could produce thousands of images a month. Nobody took this seriously. At the time, the best cameras were just under one megapixel, they were expensive, and storage requirements were minimal, so the idea that it would be a tough job to store the ten tiny digital photos taken by the ten geeks who actually had access to a CCD imager in an elecronic device, or that there was some worry about society losing access, long-term, to its own visual archive, seemed off the wall. Well, it wasn’t.

© Aron Hsiao / 2001
  • In 2001, this very website provided detailed “wish list” specs for a device that I thought could dominate the world. Not just the tech world. The world world. At a time when people thought that touch computing and portable computing were niche concepts at best, and PDAs and computers were understood as entirely separate markets, I called for a device that was both highly personalized and a full-fledged computer, that fit in the palm of your hand, instant- or always-on, with a high-resolution, full color touch display, a built-in full-bore web browser, no requirement to use a pen or pointing device, no physical keyboard and no buttons except for a power button, complete networking rather than “plug in and sync” data, a serious camera, microphone, speaker, and video processing, a large amount of processing power and memory, flash media storage slot, running full-fledged Linux or Unix under the hood, at about six inches by four inches or smaller and very lightweight, with a full day of battery power and mobile networking for Internet data and VOIP. I even began to imagine that I could hack one together with spare parts and other devices that I knew about—but I lacked the funds to do it. All the pieces, however, existed in one form or another in already shipping devices, albeit in rudimentary form. In short, the imaginary device that I described—which seemed ridiculous at the time in light of prevailing industry pundit analyses—was what we now know as a high-end smartphone. I described a phablet. An iPhone 6 or 7 or 8 Plus. Or a Galaxy Note of whatever generation. Take your pick. And I was right, it did come to dominate the world.
  • In 2004 during my first stint at grad school, I earned a lot of smirks for wanting to marry the analysis of (1) contemporary public policy, (2) religion in the culture wars, and (3) ethnonationalist sensibilities. These were three different things and I was an “unserious” person who hadn’t done my homework for trying to glue them together. I did ultimately write my thesis and earn my masters degree, but people whispered about me and tsk-tsked. Now? Gosh, Donald Trump got elected, the nexus of alt-right, evangelicalism, and traditional subcultures in the U.S. has given us Steve Bannon and Roy Moore and they’ve become hot topics of debate and national deliberation, and by god what the pundits are talking about is how these figures are promoting a new ethnonationalist understanding of politics and society with eschatological overtones. Who saw that coming? Well, I’m sure there were a few others here and there, but also—me. Except I couldn’t make hay with it at the time; instead, people snickered.
  • In 2006 to start my second stint at grad schol, I wanted to study two related points as pressing matters of public policy and social research, namely, (1) social media as a coming force and organizing principle in society, and (2) the fact that all of this social and interaction data—and the society and interactions themselves, as embodied things—would be sequestered away in proprietary databases, marking a dual crisis for public policy and social research: the transition to new forms of society at the same time that they lost all publicness (of process, of data, etc.) under current legal and regulatory regimes. This time, I wasn’t just laughed at (keep in mind, this is before the release of the first iPhone and before Facebook opened up to the general public, rather than being a closed environment for students at participating schools); rather, I was actively hated by many in the faculty. Who knows how I actually got admitted. But in any case, so far as they were concerned, I wasn’t doing sociology or public policy, I was a computing and technology geek trying for some unexplained reason to secret these obscuritarian things into the discussions held by The Serious People about how to run society. Not only that, but the computing and technology stuffs that I was talking about were imaginary, pie-in-the-sky, flash-in-the-pan bullshit “products” (if we could even deign to call them that) that nobody cared about and nobody would use. Certainly not normal, healthy, commonplace members of society. I almost got tossed out of my Ph.D. program multiple times. Names were called. Crusades against me were launched. I was again described as unserious and not a real social researcher, only this time in much less flattering terms. I had to make presentations to representatives of deans and provosts to try to justify my silliness and why I ought to be allowed to stay in. And of course now—in 2017, post Donald Trump and Russian Meddling and lalala—everyone is talking about how social media and technology have transformed the way in which society, governance, public policy, and public deliberation happen, and in the wake of these events, pundits within the academy and outside of it are finally starting to wake up to the idea that we don’t have any idea what happened or have the tools to research, understand, or influence these public processes any longer because all the data is proprietary inside Facebook and its peers.
  • In 2009 I ditched Linux after years of being an evangelist and told everyone that the general-purpose computer operating system was done; Unix had won, but in the process it had also receded into the background. Its “small-u Unix” centrality to smartphones was where things were really going, not the “large-u Unix” in fully articulated computing environments like desktops and LANs. There was no reason to work on “maintaining an OS install” any longer or to worry about desktop applications, integrated computing environments and windowing systems, etc. I switched to Mac OS and using a minimal set of applications and stopped working on any kind of scripting, development, and so on, in anticipation of Mac OS becoming an appendage of iOS and the mobile ecosystem. Nearly ten years later and here we are—Apple is unifying the app ecosystems of iOS and Mac OS, desktops and laptops are dead in the water in their traditional understandings, and the need to own a “computer” has been entirely obviated for most consumers. Once again, people thought I was insane early on. Now my position is the taken-for-granted one.

I’m tooting my own horn here, yes. And there are more examples, but I won’t belabor the point. I see things. I understand things. I am an astute student of society. I make connections and have insights somewhere between 10 and 20 years ahead of the curve. That’s great.

Here’s what’s not great, and where I don’t toot my own horn. I lack any skill or mechanism for turning my insights into success or benefit for myself or for anyone else. If it is laudable that I can understand things in advance and enjoy some accuracy in predicting social trends, it is less laudable that I lack the talents to actually turn these predictions into any sort of prescription or plan for what is to be done, much less execute on such in order to serve society or to serve my family.

I have never managed to:

  • Convince anyone of any of my insights before they became self-evident years later
  • Start a business around any of them
  • Bring a product to market
  • Launch a research or activist project to study them or ameliorate the problems that I forsee

In short, I may be insightful, but I am completely, catastrophically ineffective.

This is not as a matter of not having tried. I started multiple businesses in the ’80s and ’90s. All failed. During my stints in graduate school, I tried to build alliances and launch projects; I approached people and institutions and tried to secure funding and access. I secured nothing. I got the degrees, sure. I didn’t manage to launch the research centers, the collaborations, the working groups.


© Aron Hsiao / 2008

In more modest efforts, during my teaching years, I failed even to successfully pitch classes to ultimately be offered on these topics. My proposals were met with silence or even ridicule; I ended up teaching the 101s and the 201s and the 301s and so on. So I couldn’t even “profess” as such about what I knew.

In fact, my entire professional life—the things that I have managed to accomplish and to be compensated for—has been mundane. I’ve been a small-time role player, a small time adjunct professor, a small-time trade nonfiction writer, and a small-time middle manager on small-time teams.

I went to grad school twice because I naively assumed (an assumption that I gradually weaned myself from by midway through my Ph.D.) that if I had fancy graduate degrees, that would somehow go some way to giving me a platform of authority and access, somehow, to leverage in pursuing and communicating about these things. Of course, that was not the case. That’s just not how it works. The degrees do not automatically open a space for you, of any kind, business, teaching, research, or otherwise.

In short, I often feel as though I understand a great many things, but I simply can not get things done or make things happen in relation to these understandings. So in the meantime, I support myself by being a boilerplate writer of things that other people ask me to write, and a competent computer operator doing computing tasks that other people need done, as I have always done. My vision is better than theirs, but somehow I work for them and often do work that I don’t quite believe in because others, with less vision, are managing to drive revenue sufficient to pay someone (e.g. me) while I have never managed to do this.

Now, rapidly heading into my mid-’40s, I am struggling to figure out what changes I need to make to myself—what I need to learn and develop—in order to:

  • Become an entrepreneur and bring products to market
  • Start businesses to address needs and niches
  • Build coalitions and launch projects
  • Do anything of practical value to leverage the insights that I seem to have

Because it is worthless to be “right.” Worthless to me and worthless to everyone else. Value only exists if I’m able to do something about it. To date, I never have been, and time is running short for me to figure out what, precisely, my failing is.

But there is no history of this kind in my family or in my social circle. We are merely “thinking people.” The processes and methods of “acting” in society are foreign to us—so I do not have a base of experience, mentorship, or know-how to draw on. I have only the vague idea that there are obscure and magical skills and practices that I do not posses that are “active” ones. But what they are, in day-to-day behavioral terms?

This eludes me.

And I cannot seem to find them documented anywhere.

There is a basic set of social (I mean this in the broad sense) skills that is lacking, and I am of the impression that these are not formally taught, but are the products of informal, environmental socialization practices in circles in which they obtain. But to find them? To find such an environment?

I don’t know where to start, nor do I have the sense that I will recognize them or it once spotted; I may well have passed such entirely over multiple times in my life without even realizing it.

This is my current quest: figure out who knows how to effectively act, rather than merely “see” and “say” all the time, then learn from them.

— § —

As an aside, perhaps before year’s end I’ll manage to make a post containing my predictions for the next 10-20 years. I have a few.

Archives »

July 2026
May 2026
April 2026
March 2026
February 2026
January 2026
December 2025
July 2025
May 2025
April 2025
February 2025
January 2025
December 2024
October 2024
September 2024
August 2024
July 2024
June 2024
May 2024
April 2024
March 2024
February 2024
January 2024
December 2023
November 2023
October 2023
September 2023
May 2023
April 2023
March 2023
January 2023
December 2022
November 2022
August 2022
June 2022
May 2022
April 2022
March 2022
January 2022
December 2021
November 2021
September 2021
April 2021
March 2021
February 2021
January 2021
December 2020
November 2020
October 2020
September 2020
August 2020
July 2020
June 2020
May 2020
April 2020
March 2020
February 2020
January 2020
December 2019
November 2019
October 2019
September 2019
August 2019
July 2019
May 2019
April 2019
March 2019
February 2019
January 2019
December 2018
November 2018
October 2018
September 2018
August 2018
July 2018
June 2018
May 2018
April 2018
March 2018
February 2018
January 2018
December 2017
November 2017
October 2017
September 2017
August 2017
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
February 2017
January 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016
July 2016
June 2016
May 2016
April 2016
March 2016
February 2016
January 2016
December 2015
June 2015
February 2015
January 2015
December 2014
October 2014
September 2014
August 2014
July 2014
June 2014
May 2014
April 2014
March 2014
February 2014
January 2014
December 2013
November 2013
September 2013
August 2013
July 2013
June 2013
May 2013
April 2013
March 2013
December 2012
November 2012
October 2012
August 2012
July 2012
June 2012
May 2012
March 2012
December 2011
October 2011
September 2011
August 2011
July 2011
June 2011
May 2011
April 2011
March 2011
February 2011
December 2010
November 2010
October 2010
September 2010
August 2010
July 2010
June 2010
May 2010
April 2010
March 2010
February 2010
January 2010
December 2009
November 2009
October 2009
September 2009
August 2009
July 2009
June 2009
May 2009
April 2009
March 2009
February 2009
January 2009
December 2008
November 2008
October 2008
September 2008
August 2008
July 2008
June 2008
May 2008
April 2008
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
November 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
December 2005
November 2005
October 2005
September 2005
August 2005
July 2005
June 2005
May 2005
April 2005
March 2005
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
April 2004
March 2004
February 2004
January 2004
December 2003
November 2003
October 2003
September 2003
August 2003
July 2003
June 2003
April 2003
March 2003
February 2003
January 2003
December 2002
November 2002
October 2002
September 2002
August 2002
May 2002
April 2002
March 2002
February 2002
January 2002
December 2001
November 2001
October 2001
September 2001
July 2001
June 2001
May 2001
April 2001
March 2001
February 2001
January 2001
December 2000
November 2000
October 2000
September 2000
August 2000
July 2000
June 2000
May 2000
April 2000
March 2000
February 2000
January 2000
December 1999
November 1999