Writing a review is one way of joining a community of people who use them and find them useful.  But more than that, it is in some way a means of documenting and recording your thoughts about your own life, and your experiences.  Movies are both fantasy, and part of our experiences, they shape our beleifs, values, and personalities.  They become part of who we are and what we represent.  If you consider all of them together that you may watch in a lifetime, what would they say about you?  Reviews can help you choose this part of who you are becoming, and what you represent more carefully.  Learning the art and science of wine-tasting and palette training does not make wine taste less good, it enables you to more fully enjoy the good ones.  In fact, when I lived in Jacksonville, Florida, I had a close friend who was quite a scholarly film critic himself.  Together we set aside one day every single week to get together and watch one, sometimes pausing it in order to make a quick remark, but usually waiting until the end and then engaging in contemplative discussion or debate.

Recently, I wrote a review about a video of a stand-up comedy show I watched on Netflix.  The fact that I sought out and watched such a comedy show should be one clue that I wasn’t just seeking out some pseudo-intellectual crap to brag about at cocktail parties.  Nevertheless, my review prompted one of my friends who does not know me too closely, to ask “How can you enjoy humor when thinking this much about it? If it is funny I laugh. It is not I don’t.”  This is of course an excellent question, and deserves some response.  The observation can be made that “the life unexamined is not worth living”, but that is assuming the ‘living’ part has been engaged already.  Everyone including myself is tempted at times to introspect and reflect on past experiences, including movies that we loved.  But there are some instances where I have been known to find myself making “meta” level observations or mental annotations for later critique, even while watching a movie.

I’ve never really considered why it’s so pleasurable for most people to intentionally avoid cognitive effort.  I’ve seen smart successful people spend significant amounts of money and time avoiding reading some small amount of material.  Yet stranger still (as you point out), why would some people derive such great pleasure from cogitating about crap, in precisely the moments when others are avoiding cogitating?  When I and my friend Brian Hopkins went camping and scuba diving in the Keys, we had a tough time finding a gym where we could do some weightlifting for that week, but we finally did.  It was a tiny near-empty local place with no females to look at, and undoubtedly many guys would have passed on that ‘fun’ — those who are there for purely social or other reasons.  Maybe it’s sort of a delayed gratification/achievement type of thing?  Part of me wants to believe that there’s no conceit or shallow pride involved, but that cannot be ruled out completely and is definitely an motivation for some folks.  Perhaps hedonism and sloth are not the only kinds of pleasure?

First, there are lots of times when I think I naturally do shut the CPU down in order to “experience” the moment without the ‘interference’ that cogitation can cause.  There’s a great pleasure that comes from beer drinking and bar-fights, from “mano-a-mano” challenges to manhood (and infantile versions of courage) which I dearly enjoyed as a young man.  In a way, that’s party why I enjoy weightlifting so much, because it’s one of the few activities that somehow forcibly shuts me down mentally, and I enter some other state of primal raw emotion.  But even without the endorphins or adrenaline of “fight or flight”, I assure you that I do have a keen imagination and frequently exercised “fantasy screen”.

Imagine the difference between watching a totally ridiculous, low-brow flick, and one which pulls you in, grabs your heart, and make you (yes, and other men too) shed a tear.  They probably result in different levels of involvement and immersion.  There are plenty of movies custom tailored to shallow or unintelligent adults, or to children — without the modern Disney invention of double market appeal — which are probably directly analogous to long lines of people standing in line, where there’s a definite opportunity to use one’s mind or not.  Some will pause and rest their tired mind, others will turn and chat about people, places, and things although a few (such as me) will talk or silently think about ideas, concepts, and principles.

Not everyone who power lifts in the gym is an ego-addict, faking enjoyment or lying about why they enjoy it.  The vast majority of my thoughts are never seen or heard and I still enjoy them, analogous to the person scaling a mountain all alone.  It’s probably a little more fun though, sharing them with others too, as long as I’m not ridiculed too much for it).  I’m most eager to share them with those who will join me in considering them, elaborate on and extend them.  But I also want family, loved ones, and friends to be aware of or know that I have them, so they understand me more, in many cases even if they don’t see eye-to-eye.  You mother may not ride a ride a motorcycle or relate to it at all, but you may still be eager to show her your new bike.  And therein rests the single distinguishing characteristic that separates ‘enjoyment of cogitation’ from those various handicaps which prevent one from enjoying life.

There are clinical conditions (flat affect, depression, etc.) which will generalize to all of life decreasing one’s overall enjoyment of life.  There are also emotional disturbances (insecurities, fear of intimacy, etc.) which will cause some people to over-analyze literally everything, even when their own private and natural instincts are telling them to just let go, relax, and breathe a little.  But in those cases, the symptoms I think are fairly evenly spread over their lives.  We need not doubt though, that there are folks who would be completely content to zone out and “enjoy” movies typically spoofed or made fun of by highly intelligent people (for example, “Mystery Science Theatre 3000”).  In both cases, people are attempting to find a ticklish spot where some fun can be had.  There is no reason to doubt, that the sharper tool needs denser material to cut a rug. It’s those who never seem to be able to cut a rug, who may be missing out.  Trust me when I say, that I am often among the first few brave souls, eager to run out and “cut a rug”.  I laugh often in life, and sometimes very loud.

To the casual observer, it can be truly difficult to understand why someone would enjoy some things which we may not.  If someone is dressing up as a dominatrix and whipping a man on ‘all fours’, or if we watch a grown adult prancing around on a public stage at the local theatre and singing some song we think is humiliating, we may ask, “how can THAT be fun”?  Some will scoff, and some will simply presume the mystery to be a dark and impenetrable black box.  Others will look closer and begin to find slight differences between those on stage.

I think that some of those on life’s stage are emotionally “damaged goods” but otherwise normal, some perhaps clinically ill in some regard, and some are just very uniquely wired AND still really healthy.  In all cases, there may be a temptation for us to presume that they are ‘acting’ or ‘faking’ enjoyment of their activities.  When you hear of skydivers describe their elation and joy, do you not in some small way think of the same type of people who describe the joys of some other dangerous practice, which resulted in the ‘scars’ they show off like red badges of courage?  I think we all feel that skepticism.  But it’s not always correct and it may be that we are just being mentally lazy, and just going out of our way to avoid the cogitation required to seek deeper understanding.

When I was a boy, I used to believe that emotions were the root of all evil. It wasn’t until I became a full-time parent that I began to understand that as Pascal remarked, “The heart has wisdom the mind cannot know”. Some might even interpret Frederick Nietzsche as intending something similar from “There is more wisdom in your body than in your deepest philosophy.” Arthur Schopenhauer’s monster behind the veil seems to be so often in command of what we believe to be sound logic.

At some point, I began to question whether the heart could be a useful compass. I will not claim such ethereal epistemologies as innate ideas, but I do believe the conscience and moreover affect itself, should be not be ignored or suppressed, because they are as inescapable as freedom itself (Jean Paul Sartre might say). Why am I bringing this up? Because I think I have a somewhat radical philosophy of aesthetics with regard to rap. I listen to my heart, and my conscience (often more so than the lyrics of the songs), and they modulate the rationalizations I make.

One of the most critical aspects of rap music, and of hip hop culture more broadly, is that it is a culture. Many of the ethnocentric bigots who made casual observations from a distance in the 17th century and earlier, of foreign cultures they considered ‘inferior’, have largely been discredited of having scientific merit today by the community of cultural anthropologists. At some point, the novel idea that one must go inside the building if one’s comments about the interior are to be considered valid, was lighted on, and suddenly ethnographers were “going native”.

The best actors have to truly ‘become’ the character, in order to accurately work out exactly what that character is feeling and thinking, even when that character is on the edge of sanity, or commits horrific ethical crimes (police detectives do this too). That is also why it can be easy to empathize with the many innocent and descent folks you find in maximum security federal prisons, if you are a person who naturally attempts to understand and see the world through the eyes of another.

That is the flavor of art criticism I have approached the matter with. Rather than evaluate the meaning of the lyrics, or the character and life choices of the artists, I have attempting to feel what they feel, and relate to their mindset, in the context of their environmental history and culture. Although more often than not, a skilled artist will gracefully fluctuate between hiding their meaning in metaphors or anecdotes and blatantly proselytizing for their political stance, this entire element of art is not a complete necessity for it to be art.

Although I find myself attracted to books like the below, I believe it ultimately comes down to the sounds and rhythms, and whether they make you feel good, or give you some sense of outlet for negative feelings (like a safe way to express or experience social taboos). Still, if you prefer purely logical explanations, the below books look like they would be an excellence starting point:

Hip-Hop and Philosophy: Rhyme 2 Reason (Popular Culture and Philosophy) (Paperback)
by Derrick Darby (Editor), Tommie Shelby (Editor)
http://www.amazon.com/Hip-Hop-Philosophy-Reason-Popular-Culture/dp/0812695895/
pairs great philosophers and their works to rap classics by Lauryn Hill, OutKast and others to show rap can help uncover the meaning of such philosophers as Plato. A delightful, fun presentation invites young college students to understand underlying meanings in both ancient and modern texts.

When Rap Music Had a Conscience: The Artists, Organizations and Historic Events that Inspired and Influenced the “Golden Age” of Hip-Hop from 1987 to 1996 (Paperback)
by Tayannah Lee McQuillar (Author), Brother J of the X-Clan (Foreword)
http://www.amazon.com/When-Rap-Music-Conscience-Organizations/dp/1560259191/
What comes to mind when you think about rap music? If you’ve been paying any attention to the high-profile rap releases of the last decade, it wouldn’t be surprising if that question compelled thoughts of violent lyrics, booty-filled videos and images of decadence and materialism. But as Tayannah Lee McQuillar points out in her book “When Rap Music Had a Conscience,” in stores on April 10, it wasn’t always that way. McQuillar’s book is a celebration of the “Golden Age” of hip-hop (defined therein as occurring between 1987 and 1996), when artists like Public Enemy, De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest were able to carve out a space for themselves with their thoughtful, political music. The book isn’t just a look back, though; it’s also a lament over the current state of rap music, which the author views as tipping too heavily in the direction of the “gangster” and “crass materialism” and away from the progressive values of the golden-era rap she holds dear.

Hip Hop as Performance and Ritual (Paperback)
http://www.amazon.com/Hip-Hop-as-Performance-Ritual/dp/1412053943/
by William E. Smith Ph.D. (Author) “Hip hop has definitive links with African performance elements and musical techniques that are traceable through the well-documented characteristics of Africanisms

Total Chaos: The Art And Aesthetics of Hip-hop (Paperback) by Jeff Chang
http://www.amazon.com/Total-Chaos-Art-Aesthetics-Hip-hop/dp/0465009093/
In this wide-ranging, academic anthology of essays, interviews and panel discussions, 2005 American Book Award–winner Jeff Chang (Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop) presents hip-hop’s past, present and future as seen by some of its founding figures, guiding lights, journalists and scholars.

I will admit I find technology challenges such as in programming code fun because they intersect right at my own current limits of understanding of numerous fields like economics, business ethics, human nature, and design aesthetics. Whereas most conversations — and it seems, certainly television and Hollywood products in general as well as casual literature — are incredibly brief and shallow, I have a tendency to prefer to savor, examine, and excavate to a lower level what ideas I find have unplumbed hidden treasures for exploration.

A perfect circle cannot be made more perfect. To attempt to improve on its shape would perhaps diminish the perfection. So likewise are many things probably (kissing my wife comes to mind). But in analysis, the goal is sometimes of a different nature. Much like reflecting quietly in solitude, where much great writing takes place, there can seem a stream of ideas flowing first fast, and then slow again, winding around obstacles and at times bending completely back upon itself. If one is given to fleeting glances in life, and the circus seems ever to be moving by too fast to alight upon one solid idea, then to gaze long and understand ever better what may lie directly in front can (for me at least) be a refreshing change.

Andy Warhol predicted everyone will be famous for 15 minutes in the future. Was he commenting on the shrinking world due to communication technologies, or was he bemoaning the shrinking intellectual attention span of a society who lives more and more like drones who prefer the safety of vicarious living to first hand thought? I guess “live” TV did it, once penetration really hit virtually every home and even lots of business (and the gym, no less), sometime in the 80’s? Well, we are now at 15 seconds, thanks to YouTube. I can understand how “one shot, one kill” is far more eloquent than the spray of an UZI randomly aimed until it finally hits something. However, I am not spraying a storm of bullets in random directions. I would rather it be said that my thoughts are random, and yet, I think that my thoughts are more organized than that. Instead, what I am advocating is that one use some self-discipline and conscious internal decisions to guide one’s own thoughts back to a central topic for longer than 15 seconds.

Again, I am attempting to avoid the debate of didacticism versus ‘art for art’s sake’ (a famous literary criticism debate, for instance, see Poe’s “The Poetic Principle”). Instead, I simply would rather be still for one brief moment, and contemplate one single idea toward some conclusion more meaningful than is possible when running by at top speed in an endless parade of meaningless lip-service to so many slogans and clichés we merely observed via our favorite media.

A terrible creature lurks deep in our minds.

The first bloom of a new Spring, we begin to see…

Power has crushed our whispered resistance and

One single blue moment of fear, we stop and feel

For the first time, we stop thinking and feel

What strange harmonies result, what new inventions?

This is how children are, this is how we were

Our hearts, the unchallenged masters of destiny

Fear and terror one moment, passion and love next

This is the story of creation and our origin

Archtypal rivals, dangerous unions, universals