What's Next On My List? Pawn Shop Chronicles

 As per tradition, every year I try to look at one of Paul Walker's films, missing him dearly still, and I am slowly but surely running out of films from his filmography that I had never seen. There are some works from his early years where he barely had any big scenes. There are some where he's quite young, he started out as a young actor, but thankfully I still have a couple to go. 

Pawn Shop Chronicles (2013)

One of these was Pawn Shop Chronicles, and I just did not know what to expect with this film, but to my biggest delight, it wasn't about driving cars, it wasn't about being an undercover cop, and surprisingly, despite how incredibly insane this whole idea is and the whole story is, it was just one of the best performances I had ever seen from Paul Walker. He was playing with his voice, he was playing with his body, his interactions with the other cast members was lifted, he had perfect chemistry, some of the weirdest dialogue options, some of the weirdest scenes, it was just such a good time and a good ride.

So, what made this movie interesting is that it was divided into three separate chapters, connected by Vincent D'Onofrio and Chi McBride's character. People who came in and went out of the pawnshop were connected throughout the story. Gotta say, I liked that hook. Obviously, if it's chronicles, like the title suggests, that it's going to deal with a lot of stories within that area, within that state. But at the same time, I needed a bit more from the story to actually, let's say, appreciate the connections. Because Elvis's story really wasn't about anything other than getting to his gig. I didn't see much of the connection from him to the other story lines. And in that sense, it was just very disjointed from the first, which was a very short story, to the second, which made up basically two-thirds of the film. And the third one, I was completely unclear on at the end. I am uncertain about how these three were actually connected.

Now, taking them separately. The first one was about Paul Walker and he and his friend trying to rip off the person that has been supplying them with the drugs that they have been selling, thinking that they're gonna have a big score. And his interactions with his companion and just playing a good old meth head was very entertaining, very fun, unique as well. His take on the character was insane. At the end of the film there were a couple of blooper reels with him in it and they were just so insanely unique and funny and silly. It does not compare to any of his other roles. And at the same time I was very sad because then he died at the end of his segment, sorry, spoiler alert, and it was the best character so I was very sad to not see him in the rest of the film. 

Because the rest of the film left me with a very weird punch in the gut. The second story starred such incredible actors as Matt Dillon and Elijah Wood. It was just insane to see a man trying to find his wife who had gone missing and only to find her being a victim of sexual abuse, of physical abuse, having become a slave to a disgusting perverted man played by Wood, which is a very unlike character for him. And it just left this feeling in my stomach that I was deeply disgusted by. And the man freed other women who were also abused of by this disgusting man who unfortunately by the end of the film we find out survived, despite him being one of those true motherf*ckers that you would be very happy to see in the ground. And I never, it just, it got to my stomach the way women are treated, the issues with Stockholm syndrome, the disgusting abuse of it all. It was just too much. It was fucking too much. And the last story from the film didn't really give us a good conclusion to that because at the end, yes, we can see all three stories coming together. But it still was so much deeper than all the other shit in the film... there was an imbalance. I was deeply disturbed, disgusted. I just left wanting an actual resolve, an actual solution to the situation, not having seen one, not having gotten one from the story was abysmal. And the main guy, the husband, Matt Dillon's character who tried to save his wife, obviously he did not know how to cope with somebody suffering a severe Stockholm syndrome and believing that her captor is actually her savior. It makes sense that it caused a lot of damage in their relationship and there really wasn't a relationship to fix there. But overall, it was just gut-wrenching how disgusting it was and how he was the one who, through karma, in the end also died. But he died trying to save her so it really didn't feel satisfactory.

Finally, the last story was about an Elvis impersonator, played by Brendan Fraser, who was very good in this role. It drove me insane that he was in this small f*cking town and people didn't recognize his outfit. He was so f*cking clearly Elvis, it could not have been anybody but Elvis, and it did not make sense. And this town, which up until then was just a southern town with meth heads and, I don't know, some assholes, it turned into this very weird, very disgusting place where the guy who is actually proposing ideas about Jesus was the devil ... I didn't understand. And then Fraser's character sang one song, which was just drawn out and very long, and the girls who had escaped from their abuser were there. And instead of me feeling like at least these girls will be, I don't know, will find some joy in being free from whatever it is that they went through, the dude shows up and takes them back into captivity. And the Elvis guy.... the whole thing was weird. I can tell it was on purpose, but I don't know to what end. His ex-girlfriend, who was a bitch, was also taken by Wood's character, and I did not like that twist, I don't care for it, I don't think it was, I don't know, smart. But all these girls were dressed in flags, and was this symbolism that the United States is a fucking rotten, disgusting place? I don't understand. 

There was a barbershop scene where people in town were insane, and again, I don't know if it was just this Elvis character's view of the town that this was just a bit fucking weird. So the movie started off with fantastic acting, fantastic dialogues, silly but insane people trying their best at life, and just being idiots, ultimate idiots, with fantastic dialogue. And then it turned completely stomach churning, and then finally the last chapter was just weird. And I didn't see how these three actually connected. There was a bit of a running joke that one of the stories was brought on by a guy who sold a ring to the pawn shop, and then he finds that same ring at the side of the road, and then he sells it again. Ha ha ha, cool. The film has left me with more questions than answers. Now, should you watch it? I do think that for the first half of it, it's worth it. And the acting is brilliant, with an A-lister class of actors. There are these American films which are just chapters of something, and I do believe this was supposed to be one of those. And I understand if that's all it wanted to be, to be a chapter, but overall it wasn't disgusting enough, nor was it scary enough to elicit deeper meanings. And it wasn't silly enough to be laughable, unfortunately. So it kind of fell in between. 

If you are a fan of Paul Walker, and that is why we are here at the end of the day, I do suggest you watch it, you check it out, because his acting in it is brilliant. It's too bad that it's only done in the first half of the film, well first one third of the film, but for him it's worth it. This was to date the last film that he appeared in before his passing. So this one was special even for that sense. And yeah, I do think that it's worth a watch, but lower your expectations. 

Thanks so much for reading. Make sure to look around the blog for other posts, and if not sooner, then I'll see you next year on the celebration of his birthday.

Exit Stage Left: Quitting Academia

It has been a couple of months now since I made the decision to quit my PhD. I was close to finishing, but life happened. More than anything, I felt completely burned out—and I’ll have a separate blog post about that soon (still working on it). What has become very clear over the past few weeks, though, is that I made the right decision when I left my academic career behind.

There were many reasons behind my decision, but three in particular stand out. I wanted to write about them because, of all the things people warned me about when I started my PhD, these three were ones no one saw coming.

1) A TECH MOGUL BOUGHT AND DESTROYED

ONE OF MY RESEARCH PLATFORMS

Over the years, I developed a deep fascination with John F. Kennedy—and also RichardNixon. I spent years searching for new angles to analyze their media presence: how they opened (and tried to close) the door to the White House, how they were portrayed in popular culture, and how their ability—or failure—to establish a relationship with the media shaped their legacies. I wrote several essays on the subject, and some were even published.

But focusing on media meant also keeping up with its evolution. From the printed press to mass media to what now plagues our phones and screens: social media. President Barack Obama was the first to recognize its potential for campaigning, but even with an official White House profile, he didn’t yet use social media for serious campaigning. Still, slowly but surely, Twitter became one of the most widely used free platforms for political discourse in America.

I had charts, data, and numbers on how congressional and senatorial candidates used Twitter to campaign—and I loved doing that research. I was always online during presidential debates. Twitter functioned like a massive live chat room, with celebrities and friends reacting in real-time. It felt like being in a big room, discussing history as it happened. It was an incredible time. Seeing a random social media platform transform into a free forum where voters could reach their elected officials (and vice versa) was a sight to behold. I loved researching this.

But then social media changed—and right in front of my eyes, my research platform became… unavailable. First, President Trump created his own social media site, which wasn’t open to users outside the U.S. for nearly two years, making analysis much harder. News sites and pundits quoted his posts, of course, but conducting unbiased research meant accessing the material firsthand. Second, came Elon Musk’s acquisition of Twitter. Since then, content moderation has changed significantly.

People have left Twitter in large numbers, migrating to Meta’s Threads or the more independent Bluesky. But as of now, neither platform has reached Twitter’s scale. It’ll take time to see the numbers. Many influencers have already said Bluesky “feels like old Twitter,” but I’m not sure that’s enough to persuade people—especially political figures who benefited from Twitter’s free and open interface for so many years—to make the switch.

So whether my research can be continued remains uncertain. There are promising studies tracking how users move between platforms. But even if we believe Twitter played a significant role in Donald Trump’s re-election, just last week, despite Elon Musk’s efforts, the Wisconsin Supreme Court seat remained in Democratic hands.

The only real conclusion right now is that it’s too early to draw any real conclusions. More time needs to pass. We’ll see whether social media remains a collection of echo chambers or if free public discourse can return—and with it, candidates encouraged to use these platforms again. These echo chambers have continued to mislead us, as we saw clearly in both the 2016 and 2024 elections.

2) THE TOPIC OF MY DISSERTATION WAS MIGRATION TO THE UNITED STATES

When I started my PhD, I left behind the topic of Presidents and moved on to migration. There were several reasons for this—not only was my advisor well-versed in the field, but I also saw an opportunity to combine my other major, Italian, with my existing knowledge of American culture. The focus wasn’t just migration itself, but the representation of migration.

I worked extensively with Italian Americans, a group that fascinated me. From the first Italians who made the trip, to the fourth and fifth generations who still proudly identify as Italian today—everything about that trajectory blew my mind. I loved doing this research. I still love it. I can talk about it for hours. So many people told me I’d grow tired of it by the time I finished my PhD, but for me, that never happened. I was incredibly lucky in that way. It’s also part of why I didn’t want to quit. The stories I wanted to tell felt important—needed to be told.

Still, even when narrowing my focus to a small slice of the broader picture, I had to keep an eye on the whole thing… and parts of it are rotting. Right in front of my eyes.

When I heard that a father had been wrongfully deported to El Salvador—after a judge ruled he should not be detained, and despite his legal right to be in the U.S.—my gut reaction was disgust. This came on the heels of a similar case involving a Lebanese teacher, also wrongfully detained and deported. Every week brings another horror story: gross mismanagement, wrongful deportations, all from a racist government in power. And frankly, I can’t stomach it.

I can’t, in good conscience, just focus on past migrations. Trends must be analyzed; waves of movement have to be compared over time. But I can’t simply zoom in on the parts I enjoy researching. It’s impossible to do this work while ignoring the daily decisions being made by the Trump administration about migrants—both legal and undocumented. I wish I could just focus on Italian migration in the 20th century. But that’s not how this field works.

All of this is to say: I’m angry. I do love my research. Even after seven years in a PhD program, I never came to hate it. I never got bored. I just cannot, at least for now, bring myself to dig deeper.

3) ChatGPT

Here’s a hot take on academic writing: it’s boring, repetitive, and written in a style we like to call formal—when in reality, it’s just about stretching a five-word sentence into fifteen. There have been multiple studies showing that the mandatory academic articles we’re forced to write are read by, on average, 2–3 people. Can you imagine that?

Can you imagine having to publish just to get your PhD, to move up the academic ladder, to even be considered for a full-time teaching job—when virtually nobody reads the work? There’s a whole saying for it: “Publish or perish.” This pressure is so widespread that it birthed its own grim motto, yet each individual article gets read by two or three people. It’s ridiculous.

And it’s even more frustrating because not everyone is suited to endless publishing, presenting, and researching. Some of us—like me—are meant for teaching. And others should never, and I mean never, set foot in a classroom.

As ChatGPT became more well-known, I saw students experimenting with it. A few tried to cheat (thankfully not in my classes—and for that I’m grateful; it showed me they understood that writing skills matter, and this wasn’t just another class to pass and forget). Unlike many of my colleagues who panicked and assumed everyone would cheat, I wanted to explore the tool myself. I wanted to see how it could be integrated into the classroom.

But then I started using it… and it wrote, in seconds, a chapter that was better than anything I’d written for my dissertation. I was left feeling… empty.

What’s the point of forcing people to churn out publication after publication when, one: nobody reads them, and two: AI can do a better job? I was already struggling to convince myself that the conferences and papers were worth it—just so I could keep teaching in higher education. Because the fact that I was a good teacher—that I consistently had 30-33 students apply for a seminar that could only seat 15—meant nothing. My teaching ability, my connection with students, the work I put into making class engaging—none of it mattered in academia. And that makes me incredibly angry.

I knew the system from the start, but the workload expected of professors is beyond unreasonable. It's unsustainable. The result? Mediocre research. Mediocre teaching. Every student who complains that university sucks? They’re not wrong. The system is broken.

And insisting that publications still matter in the age of ChatGPT? In my humble opinion, that’s a scam.

Dear reader, this blog entry—this very one—was reviewed by AI. And I can tell you: it made it better. I know my limits as a writer. I love writing, but now I have a tool to help refine it.

So what’s the conclusion?

Nobody could have predicted these changes when I started my PhD. I don’t regret leaving academia—it’s a system that requires extensive reforms. But I do miss the classroom. I miss the energy of a lively discussion with students. And it breaks my heart to know that as long as the system values obscure papers more than human connection and effective teaching, there’s no future in higher education for teachers like me.

That deeply saddens me.

Still, we move forward. Some time has passed, and I know I made the right choice. I just hope I can recharge—and find my potential again.