The ironic poetry of The Grand Budapest Hotel

I saw the movie when it came out, and then for a second time last month, with my parents. If you’ve seen it, you might have found yourself wondering, “what’s up with those poem fragments? are they real?” Well, wonder no further, and thank the random person on the internet who collected them1 (and perhaps also (cough!) your humble curator who stumbled across them).

P.S. It turns out they were all written by Wes Anderson himself

P.P.S. Yes, “Boy with Apple” is obviously not real either

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From a usenet posting little less than a decade ago1, something that explains a common pattern in “high-level flame wars” on the internet …

I think the term you’re looking for is “willfully ignorant” or perhaps “stubbornly ignorant”. They’re actually too fundamentally intelligent to be truly stupid, but the intelligence is being perverted in the service of an active ignorance that seeks reinforcement of its own preconceptions, rather than being open to the subtle panic that inevitably arises when learning something truly new & different.


  1. … came across it in Zach’s “Rob Warnock archive” 

Apropos of the recent article on how “Googling for stuff makes you feel smarter”, here is Umberto Eco on something similar:

A student makes hundreds of pages of photocopies and takes them home, and the manual labor he exercises in doing so gives him the impression that he possesses the work. Owning the photocopies exempts the student from actually reading them. This sort of vertigo of accumulation, a neocapitalism of information, happens to many.

(sound familiar?)