John Lynch || Dead Poets Live: Three Ages of Yeats
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Something that ironically stuck with me upon my first viewing of Dead Poets society was the scene of which the birds flying away after being chased. What at first glance seems like an insignificant scene meant solely to enhance the movie's visual effects ended up having deeper meaning than I had anticipated.
Birds are often associated with freedom and possibly unity due to their flocking behaviour. The lack of personality that the boys experience is symbolised by these birds. The birds are nearly always depicted in groups. With few differences between each individual bird, they move as a single unit. This is a representation of the boys' mindless compliance that their parents, the school, and, to some extent, even themselves, demand of them. In one moment in the movie, numerous flocks of birds are shown flying away. As the boys descend the crowded stairs on their first day, the boys' bickering is layered on top of the birds' bickering. The boys and the birds travel in unison with the flock, not asking any questions about their destination or reason. The boys are directly compared to birds in this scene. Despite the birds ability to fly out and be free in any direction, they are particularly compared to a flock of birds who stick together and mimic the flight patterns of those in authority. The boys can frequently be seen scattering the birds by running into them, forcing the birds to make their own judgements (as we can see with Knox riding towards them forcing the birds to move more haphazardly and by their own decisions) as they progress and adopt some of Mr. Keating's principles. In the end, this symbolises the boys' development and their foray into independent thought, showing them that they are capable of thinking for themselves and defying the herd in addition to holding on to conventional beliefs and flying with the flock.
To me, it's just beautiful how much effort was put into this film to bring it to life. How much meaning every frame holds.
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“And perhaps it is the greater grief,
after all,
to be left on earth
when the other is gone,
Do you think?”
“Perhaps,”
Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles
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Why does looking at the moon from the kitchen window hit so different?
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first letter to my future husband
i sit and recall the things that happened in the past. mistakes made, words understood, actions misinterpreted. and now when i see my husband carrying his mini version on his shoulders and showing him the world, a smile escapes from my lips. my tiny boy raises up his hand in an attempt to touch the sky. we laugh. my son has your lips and hair. eyes are like mine. the way you hold the door for me, get me a glass of water while im working in front of the screen, our baby replicates all of it. we are successfully raising him to be a gentleman like you and im so proud. he has also got the habit of woodpecker kisses in his genetics. and the love for boobies too, ofcourse. in this big world of cruelty, id choose our little bubble of laughter and chaos. always and forever. thankyou for such a wonderful baby. i love him and i love you so much.
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i hope everything reminds you of me. not as a blessing, as a curse.
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This has been on my mind for a while now:
Do with this as you must.
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Dead Poets and their personality type:
Neil Perry - ENFJ
Charlie Dalton - ENTP
Todd Anderson - INFP
Knox Overstreet - ISFP
Steven Meeks - INTP
Gerard Pitts - INTP
Richard Cameron - ISTJ
John Keating - ENFP
Chris Noel - ESFJ
Stick (The Secret Member) - INFJ
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It's been 3 days and I think about you less and less
I'm getting over this quicker then what I budgeted for, I must confess
When I feel, I feel in excess
Yet we are already on step 78 of a 2,374,902 step process
Theses past few days I was beginning to second guess
Not saying all the things I wanted to express
I was overcome with feelings of distress
Over you not taking full accountability for the mess
I can't be mad, if anything you impress
The me that I thought was above and beyond your finesse
The me I thought you couldn't possess
The me I thought you wouldn't oppress
The me that I just knew you would caress
The me whose healing process was an amazing success
To the me I now feel a need to address
Because why were you ever even given access
I know, I know, I do crazy things under stress
I know, I know, I undid all the progress
You could have jeered for me, cheered for me but instead you depress
The light inside me was overtaken by your undying need to compress
Yet I digress
All these feelings I supress
Nevertheless
This poem can be read from top to bottom OR bottom to top.
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what I love about the Dead Poets Society fandom is that unlike most fandoms that still actively get content from the actors/new episodes/sequels/etc. is that we only have this movie from 1989 and a small paperback book and somehow we’re all still absolutely feral for these preparatory boys.
edit: also that youtube video of the poets in nyc and we gobble that shit up
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