Word: guilts
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What is most upsetting about the film is the shameless methods used to manipulate the emotions of the audience. You could cut the white liberal guilt in the theater with a knife. Even though the real issue at hand is mostly a technical legal and political question, Spielberg some-how extrapolates it so that it becomes a question of slavery versus non-slavery, of purist evil against innocent victims...
...sides of the issue, or even clearly defining what the issue is. He provides an overwrought sequence depicting the Africans' torment at the hands of the slave traders, self-consciously attempting to be "powerful." The characters in the movie, let alone the audience, certainly don't need the guilt Spielberg tries to foist upon someone, anyone, with this sequence, especially since the cruelty of the slave trade is never at issue in any of the trials. As soon as the Africans start having legal difficulties, the film shifts to make a sham out of the American judicial system. The very...
These conflicting messages, juxta-posed with the simple-minded and underhanded nature of the white liberal guilt invoked to stir up the audience, leave the audience unsure what they were supposed to have been routing for and exactly what message has just been forced down their throats. In reality, the only palpable things forced down their throats were their own Adam's apples...
...Couch Potato is experiencing feelings of guilt. For the last month or so, he and the rest of his hyper-prepared journalist colleagues have been waiting (there is no kind way to put this) for Frank Sinatra to die. He will, of course, now outlive us all. So: Happy 82nd Birthday, Frankie! It's been a lotta years since Hoboken, and not all pretty ones. Regrets? He's had a few. But then again, the smart money says that The Chairman of the Board wouldn't change much, having sung ? and lived ? all this time in the manner befitting...
...even with all the advances in technology, our chances of conceiving were just 1%, I felt devastated, yes, but I also felt relieved. If her words provided the final tug on the noose that had been strangling my hopes, they also supplied the means to cut me free without guilt. I did not question the diagnosis. I did not want a second opinion. By now I knew that for me, becoming a mother was an imperative; conceiving a child...