Lo curioso es que los que le están respondiendo tampoco la entienden...
La escena es una cita directa al final de Lord of the Flies de William Golding (1954), cuando Ralph está acorralado por Jack y los cazadores degenerados en tribu salvaje, aparece de pronto un oficial de la Royal Navy atraído por el humo del incendio, los niños se paralizan al ver al adulto uniformado y la caza se detiene en seco. Apocalypto reproduce el plano con esa cita estructural deliberada. En Golding los británicos representan la civilización racional cristiana frente a la regresión salvaje y en Apocalypto los españoles que desembarcan con cruces y armaduras representan lo mismo, irrumpiendo en una sociedad mesoamericana que la película ha mostrado durante dos horas hundiéndose en sacrificios humanos masivos, violencia ritual y disgregación interna. Gibson sugiere que la conquista hispánica fue el cierre civilizatorio de un mundo ya consumiéndose por dentro, no la destrucción de un paraíso, y por eso la película fue atacada con tanta virulencia desde el indigenismo académico anglosajón.
"Erm, hello? Is anyone here?"
"Hello, young one."
"Oh, hi. Um, can I use your wifi? I'm totally lost."
"Indeed you are. As are many during the journey of life."
"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you going to *gulp* peel me like a banana?"
"That is one possibility."
To get ahead in life, you must imagine the best version of yourself raping the worst version of yourself. And you must masturbate to it. This is the only way.
-Man comes home late after a 20-hour shift, dead on his feet and barely conscious
-Wife yells
-Husband tries to explain
-Wife doesn’t listen and keeps yelling.
-Wife proceeds to lecture him on listening and empathy.
My little brother was singled out and bullied by his female teachers because he would bounce up and down when he got excited. We used to call him Tigger. He was a single digit age and they would scream at him and insult him for hopping in place in anticipation of recess or something.
It was hardly even moving, imagine bouncing your leg up and down when you feel antsy. He did it with both. They took away his recesses. They wouldn't let him go outside. They took him off the soccer team, his greatest joy in the world. They made him feel like a piece of shit. He couldn't help himself and it stressed him out so much he just started having tantrums in the morning and refused to ever go to school again.
The teachers held meetings where they determined amongst themselves that they had done nothing wrong. That my little brother, whose crime was that he felt so much excitement that he couldn't contain himself, needed to be medicated.
They brought in some experts who agreed and convinced my mom to start giving my brother anti-anxiety medication at like 10 years old. The life faded out of his eyes. He was never been the same. The tantrums never stopped. He never even graduated school. I hate every single one of them.