on scrap-metal fanning

[xparrot]

I’ve seen it argued that “good” doesn’t have to mean “deep” or “meaningful”; nor does “good” have to be “perfect.” That a work of fiction that is light or silly or flawed can still be “good” or “great” -- and this is totally true; I completely agree with this. (And “good” and “great” are subjective anyway, of course; anyone can argue them of anything.)

But sometimes I love things that I think are not good. I love works of fiction that I also think are trash -- and that’s part of why I love them.

When something is good, I want to appreciate it for what it is. The parts that make me depressed or uncomfortable or angry, I have to find ways to explain, to accept, to excuse.

But something I think is trash, that’s the stuff I’m willing to -- joyfully, without hesitation -- to rip apart, to shred into pieces and pull out the parts that I love. To bend and break and melt down and reshape into what I want.

This ship I love came to a terrible end? Oh, that ending sucked -- here, let me write a better one.

That character I love did something awful? Well, that plot twist was stupid -- listen up, I’ll tell you what they should’ve done.

To me, “trash” doesn’t mean “no redeeming features”; nor does it imply one has no taste -- it means “here is an open bin; take what you want and leave the rest.” And I love it for that.

(cross-posted from tumblr)