August 9, 2013
I'm watching a movie on my iPhone. It's a tiny thing, and I'm not wearing headphones, so the sound is a bit tinny. I'm hunched over, my head down--and the posture seems familiar somehow, the experience not a new one, not contemporary at all—but maybe it's every time I've watched a movie. Maybe if I look up I'll be in a nickelodeon and we'll all be hunched over Kinetescopes and watching Why Mrs. Jones Got a Divorce or The Gay Shoe Clerk or The Mystic Swing—or maybe it's just Hulu Plus or Fandor or Amazon or Netflix streaming them, finally getting every motion picture right there in our hands—diminished but endless—or endlessly diminished. A few years ago someone posted a video of David Lynch growling how pathetic it is that you think you're watching a movie on your "fucking phone"—and in the background played the Apple jingle, gently upbeat, optimistic about what you'll view next. I nod in agreement with David—and return to the movie in my hand.