“Our life is lived in a constant uncut point of view, only interrupted when we close our eyes to dream,” Iñárritu says. “We are not editing our life. It’s only when we remember our life that we edit it. Alfonso is interested in this point of view where the audience’s point of view integrates with the characters’ point of view in a way that there are no interpretations. It’s more pure.”

We don’t need to read Bleacher Report, and probably don’t; it’s easily ignored, and so there’s no reason to feel anything about it at all.

It’s just what it is, and Goldberg is just what he is. His site cracked the same code as About.com and other uselessness traffic-vortices, and in so doing made a couple of lucky cynics rich. The result of this mucks up the internet, chokes it with disingenuous noise and nonsense and sad, flat-affect platitudes and bullshit, which is not good but also have you seen the rest of our culture? Have you seen television? Heard the radio? Everything that has risen in a century of innovation is converging on the same PiggyPoopBalls jpeg. This is what happens when you leave the people who are best at making money — goony puffed-up babies like Bryan Goldberg and actual villains like our foremost television geniuses — in charge. But who else would be in charge, really?

“It is an interesting thing when you have people going to Copenhagen saying, ‘I’ve weaned myself completely off of all fossil fuels,’ which begs the question, How long is that kayak ride from Malibu to Copenhagen?”

(As a writer, I have to admit, there is something darkly compelling about Alzheimer’s because it attacks the two things most central to a writer’s craft — language and memory, which together make up an individual’s identity. Alzheimer’s makes a new character out of a familiar person.)