Dear Briana,

Last night Ashley Annie Robyn and I watched Into The Wild. I got so mad I could’ve yelled. And I did. Basically, if you haven’t seen the movie, a rich kid who’s abnormally good-looking in a surfer boy with artistic stubble way (HOW DID HE GET A RAZOR IN THE WILd?!?!!) deserts his prospects, parents, and life savings in one fell swoop and burns his money to go live in Alaska. Along the way north, he meets your classic cavalcade of ne’er do wells and hippies, farmers and a lonely old man. In one scene he cavorts in the ocean with the wife of a mustachioed¬† “rubber tramp” and everyone, including the husband is okay with it. I mean hands on, slapping bikinied bottom and all. I was the only one not okay with it. Wackos. I don’t believe in free love. It’s against human nature. Jealousy is so inherent in our blood that I don’t even feel I have to defend that statement. [For those who might snobbishly point out the long history of polygamy in third world countries (or I think we’re supposed to say developing now), I’d like to modestly note that I’ve lived in a country where polygamy is the norm, and jealousy is no stranger to them. In fact, the trend is more and more towards monogamy. Polygamy is a messy device to cope with little money.]

Anyway.¬† Back to how much I hate Into the Wild. [SIDE NOTE: it is insanely hard to write with a baby. She won’t play with her toys alone, I need to be constantly watching her. She likes an audience. As annoyed as I get, I guess I can respect that. I’m the same way.] A lot of what irritated me about the movie was the hippies in it. And I’m actually wondering why. I agree with their ideas. Maybe it’s the fact that it seems like an incomplete ideology. A few people go off and live in campers in a desert, play bad music for each other, and sit around most of the time, with or without their clothes on. They complain about “society” but they’re living in their own? They rebel but end up settling for another. It felt as though the rich kid (for the life of me I can’t remember his name) was rebelling against money. Which is not something to rebel against!!!!!!! Money is an inanimate object. Burning bills does nothing except show me how stupid and selfish you are. Only the rich feel conflicted about “things”– you don’t see Haitians bitching and moaning about their parents who want to buy them a new car. He was an ungrateful brat who happened to get his paws on Walden and thought he’d written it himself.

I’ll go ahead and ruin the ending (which is ruined anyway in the first minute of the film): Rich Boy Dies. Maybe I won’t say how. In case you want to see it for yourself after my scathing synopsis. All I can say is, he had it coming. If you’re wondering about whether he befriends a bear during his self-imposed exile, as I expected, well sort of. He doesn’t die by the claw and tooth. Something else.

I better go see to Baby.

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