One of my very first posts, titled "Umbrella-less," talked about my attempts to get some of my fellow Communication majors excited about CinemaCom, a film colloquium for IWU Comm majors that was held over the course of this past semester. Sadly, my attempts rather failed, and CinemaCom has been discontinued after this one-semester experiment.
But! That's not to say that CinemaCom was a waste of time or effort. It was educating, entertaining, and enlightening for the couple of faithful followers who continued to attend week after week, and also for those of us who weren't there every week but sure tried.
The last film on the schedule was Schindler's List, directed by Steven Spielberg. I'd seen it once before, and it was just as devastating the second time. The typical post-movie discussion was rather more brief than usual, and there were tears all around as we filtered out of Elder Hall at around 12:30 or 1:00 a.m.
A certain individual, who shall remain nameless, walked with me for a bit. I could tell he was distressed--the movie seemed to have impacted him profoundly. He was shaking and crying and had to sit down on a bench after walking only several yards. I sat down next to him, leaking tears myself--the kind you just can't seem to shut off. He tends to be a bit of a rambler; I confess that I will sometimes tune out when he talks to me. He was certainly rambling that night, very emotionally, and seemed just the littlest bit more unhinged than usual. After a few moments, however, he fell silent. He swallowed, turned to me, and, rocking ever so slightly, his voice thick with emotion, he said, "Damn it. Damn it all! Damn it all to hell!"
At first I was taken aback. I don't know that I had heard him swear before, and certainly never with quite that much vehemence. And then, after a nanosecond of surprise, I choked on a single sad, teary laugh. And I answered him, quite literally, "Yeah. Damn it all to hell."
The cruelty, monstrosities, hatred, despair, and evil.
Damn it all to hell.
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