Did you Know? Jurassic Park Is A Book Too!

It was a Saturday in late July, and I was far too sick to go outside to get the farmer’s tan I had been promising myself since winter. With yet another shitty Jurassic Park sequel hitting the theaters, I figured I would watch the decent original for the first time since I was young enough to actually know the names of the film’s unwitting, dinosaurian villains. I quickly realized that the film was essentially a rehashing of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein: a one-dimensional warning that what we “ought” and “can” do aren’t exactly one in the same.