Today I was thinking how writing dialogue would be fun. Then I realised I didn’t have a script or any desire to make a thing. Then I realised I didn’t need that. This is a blank canvas, I can do what I want here. So I wrote a meaningless bit of dialogue without context just to see what writing dialogue feels like. I feel like the characters were kind of poorly defined, but oh well.
G: I just don’t understand why they rebooted Voltron.
B: What do you mean? You used to love Voltron.
G: Yeah, I loved it. I wanted to live inside that world. To pilot a large robotic lion? To join together into a colossal humanoid robot with a fuck-off sized sword and repetitive but satisfying transformation sequence? Of course I loved it but that’s not the point. There was a time for that. Why does it need to happen again?
B: Why not? Stories get rebooted all the time. People enjoy seeing variant takes on the same concept. Plus rebooting something means they can try more contemporary slants on things. How was Voltron meant to have any notion of like, non-traditional gender roles? Those conversations didn’t exist at the time, but you can’t say it wouldn’t be at least slightly interesting to see how it’d shake up a trope ridden 80s cartoon.
G: It just feels like reboots are all we’re getting these days. Why can’t we see more interesting, original scripts?
B: *Sigh* I know why you feel like that, but they are out there. New stuff comes out all the time, it just doesn’t get as much coverage. I’ll turn the question around, how often are you looking for it?
G: Well I talk to friends, read my Facebook feed… Okay, points to you. I don’t really put in a ton of effort. Why should I though? It’s TV. It’s supposed to be about leisure, why would I put work into that?
B: Because you want results? I know that sounds dumb when we’re talking about TV shows, but how can you expect all this shit to just come to you?
G: It still seems counter-intuitive. I’m basically researching in order to find something to relax to. We’re living in the future. Shouldn’t the internet just know what we want?
B: Well obviously they’re trying. Netflix algorithms and stuff. Still, do you really think an algorithm deciding what you want to watch is as simple as knowing other things you’ve liked and tying together the linked commonalities?
G: Yeah, it’s always off ever so slightly. Like, just because I want to watch a comedy, that doesn’t mean I want to watch something silly. Maybe I want rapid fire one liners, or I could be in the mood for dark character driven comedy.
B: Exactly. Your mood at the time comes into it so heavily. We expect so much, but think about what the demands we’re placing actually mean. If you say “I just want them to know what I want”. That’s what you said, right?
G: Uhh, “the internet should know”, or something like that. Semantics, who cares?
B: Imagine trying to create that algorithm though. You’d be using code to map out a neural network of needs and wants which could change in an instant based on your fickle mood. You could (and do) turn on a dime and you expect it to account for that. I mean, remember last week when we went out for tacos?
G: Yeah, we got tacos. So what?
B: “We got tacos.” Not until we took turns shitting on every other kind of cuisine out there. “You know what B? Maybe I don’t want tacos after all. Maybe it’s a pizza night.” Then sushi, kebabs. Some misguided idea of putting poutine on a pizza…
G: You best tread lightly. You know a poutine pizza would’ve been junk food Nirvana. Like, our arteries would’ve hardened and in our death’s journey, found transcendence. Carbs on carbs on carbs. What other point is there to life?
B: We flipped and flopped between choices until the taco place was open. We had so much choice and analysis paralysis took us on a 360° trip. We took what was left and it was fine. Unexceptional but fine.
G: Well nothing quite felt right at the time. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted until I heard the right word. Then when I did, you weren’t into it. I could’ve done sushi.
B: But I’d just eaten tuna for lunch. I’m not looking to perform ritual seppuku via mercury poisoning.
G: Anyway, it’s not like you to take a tangent without doing some kind of verbal ouroboros. I’m not gonna forget that day you spent three hours ranting about the causal link between plastic playgrounds and the bystander effect. Where are you heading with all this?
B: Geez, this is a smorgasbord. Where do I start? So plastic playgrounds are safe, right? You’ve gotta be a clumsy fucking kid to damage yourself on one of those. Sometimes though, safe and reliable is what you’re looking for. Think about taco night. On any other night I could’ve been perfectly happy with sushi, but it wasn’t the right time. Tacos did the job. Safe, reliable. Unexciting.
G: Hey, don’t shit on tacos now.
B: I like tacos. Sometimes I crave tacos. I fucking write sonnets about how much I want them inside me (in a sexual way too). This mortal shell for a corn shell. That’s the point. Sometimes they’re not too appealing. Sometimes they’re exactly what you want. It depends on your mood. Just because you don’t want tacos, doesn’t mean other people don’t.
G: Of course not. The world doesn’t revolve around me. I just wish it did.
B: Hence Voltron. It’s a safe call, because Netflix knows there’s at least some fanbase kicking around. It’s gonna be hard to fuck that up. You might not be in the mood, but others will be. Plus if it’s what you want, it’s EXACTLY what you want.
G: Fine. You win. Go you. Have your reboot. You know what I want now though?
B: If you propose putting potatoes on pizza again I’ll lace your coffee with mercury. Cheese curds be damned.