The rise and fall of quicksand.
10th September 2010
Quicksand once offered filmmakers a simple recipe for excitement: A pool of water, thickened with oatmeal, sprinkled over the top with wine corks. It was, in its purest form, a plot device unburdened by character, motivation, or story: My god, we’re sinking! Will we escape this life-threatening situation before time runs out? Those who weren’t rescued simply vanished from the script: It’s too late—he’s gone.
Proof positive that Slate isn’t inhabited solely by humorless leftist tools.
(Or maybe it is, but they occasionally take drugs.)