Friday, June 12, 2015

Movie Trailers: Jurassic World

The Island was home. He was always meant to go back. From the moment they found him, a scared, skinny boy, barely thirteen, marooned on an island full of ancient, reptilian things, he was being pulled back. From the moment he stepped off the airplane back in America, greeted by a throng of reporters--more faces, he thought, than he'd ever seen in his life--eager to know everything about the Boy Raised by Dinosaurs.

He did his best to live up to what was expected of him, or what he thought was expected. He adopted a persona, careful, deliberate, made up of half-remembered movies starring brave and daring men. He was gracious to interviewers. He did not mention that cooked meat made him sick, now. He did not mention what raw struthiomimus tasted of.

He was thankful when the fame dried up, but he was expected then to have a job, to buy a car, to rent an apartment, to have opinions on sports teams appointment television and cars and the Rolling Stones vs the Beatles and taxes and the weather and how would you like your coffee and who should be President and is retirement right for you and global warming and God. The beasts who raised him, whose cold reptilian eyes filled his uneasy sleep, had a clarity of purpose, uncluttered.

He worked an ill-fitting job with ill-fitting people in ill-fitting clothes. He ate bland food and watched Reality TV. He dreamt every night of that other family, deep, unsettling, saurian dreams.

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