Manchester by the Sea

“There is no such thing as normal.” Said with face pinched in frustration, silence to follow. It’s counter proof and f- you! all wrapped in one. The sensitivity to “normal” is understandable considering it’s track record for self fulfilling prejudice- “Why not? It’s just not normal! Two men kissing… what next?!” Unfortunately there is a normal. Normal is the majority: it’s normal to have hair on your head, it’s not normal to have a mohawk; it’s normal to know what Coca-Cola is, it’s not normal to drink two liters of it a day; free from moralizing, normal is a rather straightforward label. Let’s do one more – it’s not normal to be free from moralizing. And so, from the sensitivity that follows, comes the challenge, “there is no such thing as normal.” Show me this normal, it asks, as if it’s the missing link or sasquatch to be seen walking whole, some platypus, some Mr. Potato head with every normal smashed impossibly together. The irony being the sight of such a thing would not be normal. Manchester by the Sea is this type of surreal amalgamation. Continue reading “Manchester by the Sea”

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