I've enjoyed the movie reviews over on the Blackpilled youtube channel. Some, like American Beauty, I'd caught wind of a good chunk of how awful it was despite being, at teh time, all in a "art and indie movies about weird shit are cool" immature phase at the time. Others, like Pleasantville, I had not.

One that I had, and had never liked the movie, could feel how off and forced it was, was Forrest Gump.

So yes, there is a sense where you never know what will come at you. After all, the vast majority of the universe out there is composed of things and people beyond your control. There are many surprises along the way.

I think Blackpilled is right - the movie isn't just making fun of how this idiot stumbles from one success to another, always utterly clueless to the world and people around him. My ears immediately perked at the mention of the feather blowing along that I'd long forgotten, much like the trash bag in the utterly nihilistic American Beauty, where it didn't matter what Kevin Spacey did, one way or another he was fated to die, and no changes he made would make a difference.

I'd utterly missed how all the bad things - the wrongly prescribed leg braces, the "awful" attempt to keep him out of a normal class path he couldn't handle, and so on, were done by "normal" white men, and how he only succeeded by listening to women or following the dreams of what Spike Lee dubbed the "magic negro."

We've got a a perfect storm here of themes. Brave single moms willing to do anything (including de facto prostitute themselves to the evil white male patriarchy) to protect their special boy. White knighting for a broken and trashy girl so bad that even in a blue pill haze I'd caught on that she was no prize for him at the end. The weird wrongness of the scene with Forrest sitting outside the house hearing his mom have sex that I never found funny. Handicap acceptance to an insane degree. Aids. The whole nine yards.

At some point in time, watching him be a sideshow in major political turmoil, constantly at the right place and time with no will and direction, was tiring. Making it rich off of Apple? Starting a jogging craze? The joke ceased to be funny.

This is from a guy who actually has fond - possibly misplaced - memories of a stupid spy flick called "The Man Who Knew Too Little".

So yes, even before American Beauty shined its poison onto the silver screen, this movie was selling a kinder, gentler form of nihilism, with folksy charm and a spoonful of sugar.

Also - I look at his pictures, even all the way back as far as Big, and I get the feeling I'm looking at crazy eyes.

Finally, the man has a history of starring in or producing some truly poisonous dreck. Leaving aside the navelgazing and self-pleasuring press blowjob of The Post we've got:

Mamma Mia! - the Amanda Seyfried vehicle starring reliable hollywood liberal all about how a girl trying to find out who her father is because her mother slept with three different guys over the course of a vacation, and deciding not to settle down.

Big Love - all about polygamous Mormon families.

Charlie Wilson's War - a nasty grubby film that acted like it was excusing Iran-contra while having a Democrat take credit for the good parts.

The Polar Express - creepy as hell.

OK, Band of Brothers, and Apollo 13 were OK. Ditto Saving Private Ryan.

I can't comment on Cloud Atlas or Cast Away as the tone of his very presence in the trailers threw me off, but CA looked to be cool looking liberal boomer feelgood of pointlessness.

Da Vinci Code and Angels and Demons

The Terminal - a heartstring tugger about how awful we treat illegal immigrants