Hey, remember way back in January when I decided I was going to write a blog once a week in 2011? Well, that resolution sure as hell didn’t happen. I’m sure my three readers were/are heartbroken.

I’m irritated with myself as well, because I have not really written anything in months and months…and more and more people, far more creative and talented ones than I am, have mentioned lately that writing is, like, 90% about making oneself write, and write anything, rather than aided by sitting around waiting for inspiration to strike. So, rather than sign up for NaNoWriMo or similar (I can’t get my head wrapped around writing fiction), I’ve got this blog. With a bit of a facelift.

Some people do morning pages; I’m going to do daily blogging, at least for a little while, to keep me from just wasting my brain cells watching reruns of British panel shows on YouTube.  Of course, given that I haven’t been paying attention to the universe lately, and that I don’t want to get too head-up-my-own-arse any more than a blog does normally, this is perhaps a stupid day to start such an endeavour.

So instead, here’s a link, that’s already been posted all over the place, about the death of film as a medium.

I wrote a bit about the (im)practicalities of running 35mm film a while back, but yeah, the end is here already. I knew it was coming a few months back for two reasons:

1. A letter from a Giant Studio (mascotted by a yellow-shod rodent) distribution rep (one who has not let us book anything in years) saying (slightly paraphrased):

Dear Beloved Customers,

I am retiring after 40 years. It’s been real.

Sincerely,
Repguy

P.S. If you haven’t gone digital yet, you’re fucked! Love ya!

 2. My boss finally decided to get a digital projection system, which is a frickin’ monumental financial investment for an indie theatre, because yes, if a cinema doesn’t go digital, it’s more or less fucked.

More or this later, but it suffices to say that our projectionists are not thrilled about their impending dispensability, and I am not terribly thrilled to have the responsibility of running press screenings myself. (There is more than one button involved! How will I cope?!)

That’s not to say there aren’t advantages: It is awfully nice to have access to more classic movies (35mm print of Doctor Zhivago that we were meant to run a few weeks ago was in early stages vinegar-syndrome and therefore unplayable) because digital copies are cheaper/more plentiful, for example. But, nonetheless, progress often begets sadness. And the whole thing is bringing on a lot of wistfulness for this longtime popcorn monkey.