"Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the time: after your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live."

I am a Wilco fan. In a recent Wilco concert, founder and singer, Jeff Tweedy, stopped the concert when somebody with a smartphone was recording him. Wilco have a very liberal attitude to recording music at their concerts. They condone the sharing of concert tapes by their fans and have released a few concerts in lieu of a charitable donation on their website. So, this wasn't a copyright or Metallica/Corrs (what a combination) plea to make more money.
What Tweedy was berating the fan for was the stealing of memories. It was the creation of a cache of memories that could be accessed easily on request. The very point of memories are that they are faulty. By the time they pass through the synapses, they get corrupted by other experiences. We argue about our experience of an event. Live music or theatre is precious because of the spontaneity of that event. Wilco's Virtuoso guitarist Nels Cline plays the solo in Impossible Germany differently each night because it depends on how the mood takes him.
When I see a concert, the experience that I have depends on the mood I am in. The text of the performance is interpreted by me and the experience is the combination of the musicians, those around me and myself. I can't fully engage if I am focused on getting the right angle on my iPhone (which I don't own).
I have to accept here that I am a hypocrite. (I am after all a teacher, and our collective mantra is 'do as I say, not as I do.) I take photographs of my children all the time. The wall in our hall has over twenty framed photographs of my two wonderfully photogenic kids. However a photograph is a kicking point into a memory and these points flood us with more memories.
I was struck by this as I watched the footage of the Dark Knight Rises slaughter in Colarado. In the midst of chaos and death, how can someone's first instinct be to reach for their phone to record it?
As Hamlet said "For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ."

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines

Some films I lke
In no particular order.
Vertigo
From the startling titles to Bernard Herman's score. Hitchcock at his devilish best.

The Empire Strikes Back
I loved this the first time and loved it more when I got to watch it with my son.

The Third Man
I had the pleasure of seeing Welles' masterpiece on the big screen when I worked for the Cork Film Festival in my teens. The speeches alone make it worth watching.

Casablanca 
Ingrid Bergman!

Finding Nemo
There are so many films about Fathers and Sons. Indeed there are many plays also but this is one of the best. The best film Woody Allen never made.

12 Angry Men
The intensity, the heat.

Jesus of Montreal
Again, from my days at the Cork Film Festival, an incredible film about acting.

Citizen Kane
Another Welles and Cotton combo. Psychologically taut and deep.

The Shining
I saw this in our school film club under the guidance of Padraig O Scanlain. It scared the bejesus out of me. It also led me to reading Stephen King. An added bonus.

High noon
Every town needs a hero even when they don't know it.

The Shawshank Redemption
Every footballer's favourite. More Stephen King. A great story.

Godfather 2
Brando, De Niro, Pacino.