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Americans love movies. We sit in the dark, eat butter-flavored chemical popcorn, sip three-gallon high fructose sodas, and let that beautiful silver screen command our brains.
Our teenage daughters fall in love with narcissistic vampires. Our sons cheer for cannibalistic psychotics to eat their next victim. We watch elves and orcs fight for control of Middle Earth (I rooted for the orcs).
The cinematic carnage consumes us for a couple hours, and then it’s back to the dull reality of the world outside.
But perhaps the best example of recreational ruination is a nice war movie. A classic deluge of putrid dialogue can be enjoyed from the 1943 movie, “Destination Tokyo.” My favorite scene is the one in which Cary Grant spews out an amazing pontification of why the Japanese are such evil people.
When a crewman (Mike) attempts to rescue a downed Japanese pilot from the sea, the satanic Japanese soldier pulls out a knife (by the way, it was a gorgeous Tanto style blade) and stabs him in the back, killing him. To help his crew cope with the horrible death of their friend, Captain Cary Grant explains:
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