A Moment of Silence Before We Get Back To Jokes

“I believe movies are one of the great American art forms and the shared experience of watching a story unfold on screen is an important and joyful pastime. The movie theatre is my home, and the idea that someone would violate that innocent and hopeful place in such an unbearably savage way is devastating to me.” – Christopher Nolan 

I’ve been waffling back and forth about addressing the shooting. After all, this is a tongue and cheek humor blog where, my love of movies aside, I pretend to be a misogynistic asshole with a big dick. Obviously this isn’t the place to come for insight or solace. Except, the shooting took place in my home, to my townsfolk. Tomorrow I promise I’ll get back to dick and fart jokes but, for today, I need to decompress for a second.

I live in Aurora.

I love the Century 16.

I can’t count the number of times I visit that theater. The staff is friendly, the patrons are generally polite, and the prices are amazing. Plus, they serve kettle corn, I love anywhere that serves me kettle corn as a general rule.

I’m there at least once a week, usually more. Honestly, I visit there so much, Friday morning I was inundated with phone calls from friends and family checking that I hadn’t gone to that showing. It was, statistically speaking, pretty damn likely I would have, should have, been there, especially for Batman.

It was a home of sorts and that troubled young man took a place I adore and irrevocably warped it. He took what should have been a sanctuary and turned it into a tomb. But this isn’t about me. And I don’t want this to be about him either. I want this to be about cinema and it’s power to bind us. 

Friday night I attended a late showing of Dark Knight with my fellow residents of the greater Denver area. The theater wasn’t empty by any means but certainly not as packed as you’d expect considering the film. Thoughts and prayers for the victims were certainly on our minds, there was a feeling of community in the air. It was palpable. We gathered, almost defiantly and, for almost three hours, we were the same. It was a celebration like the midnight viewing at the Century 16 should have been.

That’s the power of movies: age, race, religion, don’t matter during a great film. You’re all together, in an almost religious way, experiencing magic. Sure, after, you’re strangers again and go back to your regularly scheduled lives. But during you’re connected in a way society rarely does anymore. 

So don’t give up on film. Yes, I know it’s kind of scary sounding now. But nothing has changed. In fact, this should bring cinema lovers together in full force. Go out and see a movie as soon as possible. This lone gunman needs to be taught that the purpose of film is to unite us, not divide.