"Wild" Trailer

Oh my fucking GODS, another whine fest about a retarded mental patient trying her luck on sheer stupidity. 

Seriously, has there NEVER been a movie made about anyone who ENJOYS walking? ‘Tracks’ just killed me – first the book and then the movie. Good fuck’s sake, what angst porn! I’m not even going to go into ‘Into the wild’, that was just pathetic nervous breakdown by a person of below average intelligence. I’ve read oodles of books about people enjoying their walks – this is a person who really loves to walk, mind – and some of them are great fun! I mean, they describe great fun. Not some tortured failure to cross a distance on a flat surface of a planet and nearly die forty times during on sheer moronic inability to notice you’re in nature!

I am familiar with this book – Wild by C. Strayed (oh, what an appropriate name)– and I know that when you first pack for a very long journey, you do everything wrong. A lot of things scare you and you cry a lot. It’s like a purge, the unfamiliarity of pain. But you shed the luggage fairly quickly, and you get much stronger and a lot less ‘civilized’ looking and suddenly the elements are no longer all that obvious. I was very happy when in ‘Tracks’ movie the girl didn’t show up shaved in every scene, but confused when she kept looking like she’s about to die all the time or the fact she had 20 layers to her cotting. This chick, with lines like “my mother was the love of my life” (Seriously, WHAT THE FUCK??), a looser druggie, from bad marriage and even worse family and ZERO street smarts, she just decides to walk one day. No idea what that really is, just… Like, has she read a single BOOK about hiking? Or are books lame and don’t truly tell you how you should act when, say, at the top of my head, crossing a RIVER? Really? WITH the backpack on at the RAPIDS section?

I know people like Oprah, whose opinion on the quality of books in a great beacon to avid housewife readers of North America, have orgasms over accounts of Classics-quoting white trash fuck-ups who find God or Themselves or The Meaning or whatever through some grueling hikes they suffer through like it’s Siberia (because when you’re doing it like a skilled hiker you’re obviously not feeling it true?), but may I just mention her life got better when she wrote about it and got rich and famous, not when she was screaming at nature? Hasn’t anyone ever told these people that when you’re in the nature, you’re supposed to respect it and not disturb everything in a 15-mile radius by acting out like a crazy person?

(Unless there are bears. If there are bears, you have to talk to yourself or sing or something, so they hear you coming and can move out of your way.)

I so fucking hate books and movies about losers who go on ‘terribly difficult travels’ to find their footing, leaving it all behind, all the bullshit, all the carbon footprints and whatnot. That is, notwithstanding the 40 pound backpacks of bullshit they insist on dragging with them. They notice nothing about the whole surrounding but themselves and how they feel about the forests and the mountains and the stars and what the fuck else. They are so fucking dumb about what they do, it’s a wonder any of them survive at all. And this is WITH credit cards and in civilized environment. I imagine they would die even sooner if they had to walk a 1100 miles round and round on an Olympic stadium. Where there is, you know, no clear running water or fruits of the forests for sustenance. (Like they would know what to eat if their lives literally depended on it.)

Walking a 1100miles over North America is neither terrible nor grueling nor grim nor dangerous nor a cure for being a white trash loser. All you got to do is pull your head out of your ass. Then it’s great. A ridiculously epic uptake on the pain, endurance and human spirit and resourcefulness, and truly great.

And read a fucking pamphlet if a whole book is too much for you, about how to take care of your fucking feet, if that’s the one thing you’ll actually be using on your stupid fucking hike.