I’m not gonna be one of those people who pretended to listen to Dolly Parton all along. She had plenty of fans of her music and I won’t pose as one of them. That being said, I was a huge fan of her.

She’s talked about her father’s illiteracy and in her fame started the Imagination Library as a result—an institution which has given kids worldwide over three hundred million books for free. It’s just a part of her extensive philanthropy—giving away so much money that, though she could have been a billionaire, she never reached that mark.

It’s rare to have a public figure in America almost always walk the walk without talking too much talk—but when she did speak about issues, it was always in a way that expressed a kind of belief in the human spirit and the understanding that we’re all just equal as human beings. Though her works that help people will be recognized and missed, to me it’s that she represented a quality of understanding and respect for all that is largely lost on those with power and influence in media and culture.

In an era of Kardashians, where amassing wealth and dismissing others and focusing on the self is paramount—embracing individualism and greed—Parton represented the polar opposite. She was an example that one could be both accomplished, loved, and rich without holding on to ideas that were exclusionary or discriminatory. If celebrity is an inescapable consequence of the collision of art and commerce, Dolly was an example that the role could be a path to mutual benefit (as much as something like that can be).

I think that’s the reason so many people are fucked up over her death. In a time when nobody agrees on anything, everyone knows that Dolly Parton was an amazing person. A representation of goodness, of what people could be. There’s something in the air now where we can all tell society has sunk so far into greed, selfishness, and sometimes outright evil, that we’re collectively losing the plot—that there aren’t really many people left to consider a role model for the next generation.

She will be missed, and perhaps her legacy will inspire the youth of today to see that society does recognize the good in people, and collectively lifts them up, giving them deserved recognition for being a beacon of what the human heart is capable of. The world will be a worse place without Dolly, but maybe because of her, people will end up a little better.

These two are five now

Sometime between today and the 28th is the cats’ birthday. It’s not really known, the first vets they saw after being rescued from the streets had to do an estimate when they were just days old and that was late August of 2021. Though I didn’t adopt them until after they’d been fostered for a few months, it’s now been close to five years, and so we’re having a three-day party. (They do not know this, they will just enjoy the benefits.)

Because they are cats, when I initially brought out catnip and treats to celebrate with, they both hid under furniture. They know that unexpected treats can mean being put in a carrier and taken to the vet (or, more recently, moved across town). Eventually they got curious and enjoyed the offerings, but I can appreciate their hesitation.

(Like everyone else, I review the films I see on Letterboxd, but I write about movies as a general idea here.)

Zach Cregger has made a Resident Evil movie and it looks awesome. I’m a big fan of both Barbarian and Weapons and have always enjoyed the games when I’ve played them, so I’m pretty stoked on this. Will it win Best Picture? No. Will it be fun as hell? Probably.

Here’s the kicker, though: I love Resident Evil. I don’t mean the IP or any of the specific games. I mean the original movie from 2002 starring Milla Jovovich. I enjoy all of its 100-minute runtime. I can totally admit it’s 100% a bad movie. It’s a bad script with terrible acting and some really awful special effects. Yet still, I love it. It’s a guilty pleasure.

There’s been online discourse of late saying there’s ‘no such thing‘ as a guilty pleasure, or we need to take away the shame of it. (NPR even took a look at the brain science behind the concept.) I would argue the middle ground is where we should land as a society—yes, there are guilty pleasures, but we should also not fear any kind of public shame for indulging in them.

The innocence of guilt

I think a person should be proud to admit they have a guilty pleasure in art or culture because at least they’re admitting to understanding the idea that there are echelons of these things produced in terms of meaning and substance. If you say a Marvel movie is a guilty pleasure, you’re admitting you understand that it’s corporate franchise slop written at a fifth-grade level designed for nothing more than a dopamine rush, but you just don’t care. And that’s fine. It’s the understanding that matters.

I’m not always watching arthouse films. Hell, Bad Boys II is a piece of capitalist copganda and I love the shit out of it. But I know that Michael Bay wasn’t setting out to ask societal questions when he had Will Smith dodging boats in a Ferrari while speeding across a Miami bridge. He just wanted to throw boats at a car on a freeway.

However, I can say that movie, or Resident Evil, is a guilty pleasure because I know there are arthouse movies out there that Ask Serious Questions About Life, that exist because a filmmaker wanted to make us leave a theater with a new thought or idea about the world around us. I know that, while entertainment can be fun and relaxing, art and the concepts that creatives process during crafting a film or writing a novel is where we actually discover things about our humanity. Any moral quandary posed by a Marvel movie has been vetted by the CIA, while a David Lynch film will leave a person wondering what morality originates from.

Go for it

I have a friend here who is a very good, serious artist. I was at her place once staring at this massive painting of a tree she had splayed out across the floor of her entire apartment. In the corner, her television showed one of her streaming accounts and all of the ‘Recently Played’ section was filled with episodes of one reality show or another. I asked about it and she proudly said she loved it all—she could work with them on in the background, not having to worry about her attention being distracted by something heavy or some plot point she had to pay attention to. Also, they were just entertaining. It made sense.

She and I both know plenty about Serious Art, but also that there’s plenty of reasonable occasions to indulge in whatever bullshit might exist for the sole purpose of vapid entertainment. I tend to think the issue of American culture is that we’re increasingly being pushed in the direction of that void of uncaring, incompetent slop. Stephen Spielberg and John Williams teamed up to create one of the most iconic films ever made in Jurassic Park, which is now just a recurring CGI-fest of absurdity and nonsensical plot lines. Our entertainment is getting dumber, and our society is culturally worse for it.

I think the danger of a guilty pleasure lies in not knowing that it is one, or why it is one. To not understand that the new Avengers movie and Zodiac might both star Robert Downey Jr but the latter is a significantly different type of film is a kind of cultural illiteracy that I think we’ve generally waded into as a society, and instead of trying to right that wrong, we’re trying to take away any stigma about the shame of preference—even though that preference is nothing to be guilty about, but understanding the holistic nature of why culture matters to humanity is an inherently important and valuable part of life experience.

The weather report

Mid-August in LA is known for this kind of heat, sure, but it’s been going on for months. This year there was no May Gray, no June Gloom. We had a brief spring and then suddenly it decided to spike to 85 and not look back since. It’s the type of heat that makes getting anything done during the day—like the laundry or grocery shopping I have on my list for today—impossible until the sun goes down. Not to mention the electric bill I’m gonna have from the air conditioner being on constantly.

I need to wake up and have it be mid-October.

Entering The Clock at LACMA

I spent 13 hours of my life last week with The Clock, an absolutely monumental piece of video art that caught me completely off guard by, after watching 20 seconds, had me fully committed to watching as much of the 24-hour runtime as possible.

The premise of the work is fairly straightforward: it’s a 24-hour piece that takes place in real time. It splices together scenes from the entire history of media—mostly American but there’s occasional Asian and European content as well—that display or discuss the time and puts them on screen at that time. So, if you check your watch at 7:24 PM, on-screen there will be a scene from a television show or movie where a clock displays the time 7:24 or a character asks what time it is and someone replies, “It’s 7:24.” The splices are quick, so every minute on screen might get five or ten references (popular times in entertainment, such as the stroke of midnight, can get upwards of 20).

On top of simply displaying the time, though, the film is edited with underlying themes and semi-narratives. Doors and telephones play a dominant role in the imagery used. Characters eat during meal hours, go to work in the morning, make themselves a drink around five, go on dates at night. The generic standard for ‘a day in the life’ of a contemporary person is illustrated throughout the entire work.

It’s fascinating and immersive and, above all, left me in a constant state of wonder. How the hell did Marclay pull this off?

The Power of the Process

This isn’t the first time this year I’ve been left in wonder of the process of a film. One of my favorite releases of 2026 has been Nirvana The Band The Show The Movie, which, on top of being laugh-out-loud hilarious, had me constantly asking myself the same question: How did they make this movie?

Though these examples happen to both be films, works like The Clock are great pieces of evidence as to why art made by humans is important and can never be replaced by AI. Replicated, possibly, but never replaced. I am sure that, if not now, then in the near future, someone could prompt a computer to look through the history of media and select scenes that display the time and assemble a film from it. Watching that would end up being such a different experience, because there’s no quality of passion to it. Nobody sat through hours of footage and carefully assembled mini-stories that conveyed human emotion. It would not be a spectacle of achievement that would make you proud to be human. Prompting a computer to do your work for you is not, and never will be, art.

Yesterday I went to a 24-hour screening of The Clock and left at 12:15 AM, after watching six hours of the film. I was spent. I left a completely packed theater to see a line outside of over 100 waiting to get in still. That’s the power of art when someone pours themselves into a process of creation. No computer generated prompt is going to get this kind of response because nobody with a soul will be able to relate to it. There will never be a reason to care about what AI can ‘make.’

Seeing this piece left me with so many thoughts and feelings, but one that left a large impression was understanding that the AI companies and people behind them can steal all they want from the history of art, but not a single thing any of them ever make or do with it will hold a candle to an original drawing made by a pencil and a piece of paper, much less a massive accomplishment like this.