As I watch these images, a lot of questions come into my head. For 
various reasons, I could barely put them into words. Some are probably 
unspeakably stupid or perhaps offensive. I'd ask what I wanted to and 
then immediately regret doing so. I might say "why?" but not want an 
answer. I might say it was a waste of time or I might object  to this 
sort of thing being shown on the national news, while continuing to 
watch. I probably have many more reasons for not having a proper response to voice I 
might not have the words, I'll still be forming my opinion, unsure of 
what's right or wrong. In any case, it could well not be my place to 
comment; commenting affects nothing; of all the comments my comment 
would be the least well-informed.
This is it: Inside a 
family home, a man prostrates himself before a distraught woman. She 
slaps him repeatedly in a wild manner, so upset that she hits him 
variously on the head, back and shoulders, seemingly without aiming 
anywhere specific. He hardly moves a muscle, though he's continuously 
bowing his head to the floor. The crying woman holds up some print-outs 
of pictures from the scene of a car crash, but since the man is facing 
the floor she thrusts a page under his nose. After a cut we see a shrine
 within the same house. The man crawls into shot, still bowing but 
moving towards the shrine, where a young man's picture is framed. Next 
we see an elderly woman in the street outside saying that she only had 
one son, and such a good one and now he's gone. Back inside we see the 
woman again and she's crying, while the man who's prostrate in front of 
her bows his head over and over.
These pictures made me 
think that we don't need to see this personal, almost ritualistic 
process of disgrace. Yet I want to write about the empty devastation of 
seeing these pictures. Drink-driving is awful. That could be the 
message. Taiwanese news programmes deliver heart-rending stories from 
the heart of the lives of strangers, ready to be scrutinised and pored over. This could be the message. I don't know.
No comments:
Post a Comment