Much of film and TV-production has been put on hold because of the pandemic, but recently we have been absolutely spoiled with world-class entertainment, namely the gross details coming from the Depp-Heard libel suit, currently ongoing in the UK. Get your popcorn ready! This way to the Mad Hatter’s tea party!
Without a fail I do a daily press review in the mornings (basically to check that Justice Ginsburg is still alive – she’s been admitted to a hospital again this week due to an infection, but according to the New York Times, is currently “resting comfortably”.) I know by now that this habit will cause lasting emotional trauma and shoot my blood pressure through the roof, yet I do it.
I know I should be reading morning pages or alternatively writing morning pages or spend 20 minutes either meditating or sipping room-temperature lemon-infused water instead, but I don’t. I read the press and then spend 2-3 hours gathering the will to continue with the rest of the day.
Imagine my delight when every day for about a week now, as an extra side treat to the usual R-numbers and other pandemic metrics, I’ve been served extremely unappetising, gory details about the ultimate privilege-fest, which is the celebrity court battle. In the case I’m referring to, actors Johnny Depp and his ex-wife Amber Heard have embarked in a pissing contest of who can spew out more repulsive details about their bygones relationship to the greedy UK press (remember it’s been over 3 months of nobody stepping nowhere, so the tabloids must be over the moon).
I’ll let you explore the excrement-filled Depp-Heard -marriage at your convenience, even the Guardian seems to be taking its public information duty seriously by running a daily commentary from the courthouse. I hope not a single penny of this charade is funded from the public purse.
(Why is this happening? Heard fed The Sun a story claiming that she’s been physically abused by her then-husband Depp. The Sun wrote a piece and called Depp a wife-beater, a claim he vehemently denies, and has taken The Sun to court for libel. The divorce clearly was not amicable as shitshow, pun intended, does not even begin to describe the brawl we are witnessing at the moment. Witnesses include, but are not limited to Vanessa Paradis and Winona Ryder.)
Needless to say, domestic violence obviously is a hugely serious issue, survivors must be believed and victims must not be shamed or blamed. Alas, this will not be the lesson learned from this adventure in bonkers-land.
This is the lesson: Kids, don’t do drugs.
On another note, I finished re-reading Wuthering Heights, which was a truly refreshing experience, much like re-reading The Frankenstein again after many years. I have the Penguin special edition of the book, which makes me laugh every time I look at it.
I was inspired to read the Wuthering again as I found an interesting literary criticism of 19th century women writers called The Madwoman in the Attic. I’m weirdly fascinated by 19th century women’s gothic writing, which started rebelling against the literary tradition of an angel-woman: slim, pale “snow-white”, passive (immobile) being whose charm basically reminds the reader of a corpse.
Which, interestingly, is not that far-fetched if you think of it: Edgar Allan Poe famously stated that “the death of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world”.
So, big recommendation to revisit Wuthering Heights. It’s actually very entertaining.
Mad Hatter photo credit: Walt Disney Pictures.