Mary Arline

A short litany of thanks

2009-10-12T23:14:50Z

I didn't know what I wanted to say today. Everything I would like to say has already been said, and much better than I could say it. So I would just like to say thanks.

Thank you, Matthew.
Thank you, Judy and Dennis.
Thank you, Father Roger Schmit.
Thank you, Moises Kaufman.

Four questions:

2009-09-11T21:55:45Z

What does it profit us to save our lives if we have to sell our souls in the process?

If we aren't willing to live according to our principles of freedom and justice and equality, what's the point of fighting and dying for them?

What would the world be like if people actually lived the way they try to teach their children to live? If people actually shared, actually treated others as they would want to be treated, if people actually behaved as though they thought their character counted, if people listened to children's stories and actually heeded the morals...

What exactly is patriotism?

***

By the way, Darryl Worley, I have indeed forgotten the lyrics to your wretched song, and I plan to keep it that way.

12:34:56 07/08/09

2009-07-09T02:57:36Z

It was one brief shining moment today, and it wasn't as cool as it could have been because the computers at work don't list the date in mm/dd/yy format, but I still enjoyed it.

Movie trailers and such

2009-06-24T01:29:14Z

I saw what I assume to be the latest trailer for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on IMDb, and I have to admit that it looks pretty damn impressive. Since Kloves is back as screenwriter, I don't hold out a lot of hope for it for it being coherent or comprehensible, but it should be visually pleasing at least. The effect of the cursed necklace on Katie Bell is exactly as I imagined it.

Here's what I don't understand, though: how the hell did they manage to make a movie version of Half-Blood Prince and only have it be rated PG, rather than PG-13 ? I don't mean that a higher rating automatically makes for a better film (I've seen plenty of R-rated movies that were utter crap), but I personally found the book so much more disturbing than the earlier installments that I don't see how the movie could be anything less than equally as violent, disturbing, etc. as the most recent movies. But then again, it's not that it's necessarily less violent, disturbing, etc. as the previous movies, it's that the MPAA hasn't deemed it so, for its own inscrutable reasons.

And then, against my better judgment, I watched the trailer for New Moon, the latest installment in the "Twilight Saga", as it's now being called. I have no interest in seeing the film, but I was a little concerned about the character of Jacob because in the first movie he had long hair and now he has short hair, and in several American Indian cultures that's a sign of mourning. Well, "concerned" isn't really the right word; I just wondered if that was important to the story or purely an aesthetic choice. But they didn't address it in the trailer, nor on the IMDb trivia pages, and I don't care enough to research it any further. I have to admit, though, the werewolf transformation in the trailer is pretty damn cool, and even though it's clearly a digi-wolf, at least it resembles an actual wolf rather than some enormous, hairless, carnivorous rodent (*ahem* Prisoner of Azkaban).

I bought the Rifftrax for Twilight as soon as it came out, because Twilight as a cultural phenomenon deserves to be mercilessly mocked. I haven't been able to listen to it with the actual movie yet; all the copies in the library are out, and when I requested my reserve copy I was number 94 in the queue. But I've listened to it by itself, and even without the movie it's quite funny. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, as the case may be), I remembered the movie well enough to match up the commentary with approximately what was going on in the story. Of course, it helps that Twilight doesn't have a plot as such until the latter third of the movie.

Jai ho!

2009-04-06T23:19:17Z

I went to see Slumdog Millionaire today. It was very good, although it was a little bit hard to follow sometimes, probably because of a combination of accents and cultural references (coming into 5 minutes late probably didn't help either). But I pretty much knew how it was going to end what with the publicity and the Oscars and all, and yet I was still antsy with suspense towards then end. And once again, it was one of those movies in which the journey is more important than the destination, though, having taken the journey, the destination makes for a nice payoff.

I loved how the police inspector started to get caught up in the story, so that it was less an interrogation and more of a Scheherezade, Thousand and One Nights situation.

I've said before and I'll say again that Dev Patel is adorable, and he was soooo good in this movie, although I felt that his dialect work was a little splotchy, but he brings such tenderness and pathos to the role that it hardly matters. His few scenes with Freida Pinto were so beautiful and sweet. It kind of reminded me of Man of LaMancha, the idea that idealized love doesn't have to be disappointed, that love has the power to make the ideal real; as the song lyrics go: "to each his Dulcinea that he alone can name."

It's interesting that of all its many awards and nominations, very few are for acting: few acting nominations and fewer wins. It's also interesting that for the SAG Awards Dev Patel was nominated as an Outstanding Actor in a Supporting Role rather than a leading role; I don't know if that's because they considered it to be such an ensemble piece, or they had so many strong contenders in the Leading category, or what. It's unfortunate for Dev Patel that he had to go up against my boy Heath Ledger but, God willing, Dev Patel will have a long and fruitful career ahead of him and get plenty more chances to win. I truly hope so, because from what I saw in this film he truly is a prodigious talent (Slumdog did win the Outstanding Cast award from SAG, so at least he didn't go home completely empty-handed).

Well, I've now seen two Academy Award nominees for Best Picture, this and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (unfortunately I missed both Frost/Nixon and Milk in the discount theater, so will have to wait for the DVDs, and don't know if or when The Reader has played near me, or will). Between the two of them, I honestly couldn't say which is better; I can't think of any valid grounds for comparison. I guess if I absolutely had to pick one over the other, I'd pick Benjamin Button, for the sole reason that I could easily follow the story and (mostly) understand what the characters were saying. Also, it had less of the cringe-worthy violence, which I appreciate. That's not to say that the violence and disturbing imagery in Slumdog was gratuitous, because it wasn't; I'd just prefer not to see it, although ultimately it was worth it.

Oh, by the way, the soundtrack kicks ass!

Passion

2009-04-05T05:27:14Z

I don't know about April being the cruelest month (I'd be more inclined to pick October or November) but April 4th is certainly a momentous date: it's the date Dr. King was killed and the date Heath Ledger was born (though not the same year, obviously). It's technically not Palm Sunday this year, but it's Palm Sunday for me because my choir sang at the Saturday evening Mass this weekend.

I recently read a non-fiction book called The Irrational Season by Madeleine L'Engle, who has been one of my favorite novelists for years, but I'd never read any of her non-fiction until now. I'm not sure exactly why, but I'm glad of it because I don't think I would have gotten as much out of it in high school as I have now. Anyway, in the book she describes participating in reading the Passion as part of the crowding chanting, "Crucify him!" and describes how it disturbs her because she doesn't know whether or not she would have actually been part of that screaming mob had she been there at the time.

I can relate to this. During most of my childhood summers I participated in the Black Hills Passion Play (which, alas, is now defunct), but it wasn't until I was 12 years old (old enough and tall enough) that I participated in the mob scenes. And the first time I did so it was extremely difficult, because on one hand I was acting in a way that was completely counter to my nature, and yet at the same time I felt within myself the capacity for that depth of violent rage and blind hatred, and I felt that, under certain circumstances, I too could possibly be carried away by those emotions. After all, had I not been carried away to a lesser degree by violent emotions all my life? Did I not consider myself somehow akin to the Incredible Hulk? Eventually I got myself under control, and realized that if you're going to do a Passion Play, you need an angry mob or it's not going to work.

Tonight when we read the Passion, what struck me was the way Jesus' friends all abandoned him when the high priests came to arrest him. This is something else Ms. L'Engle addresses in The Irrational Season, pointing out that it was the women who stuck by him, despite--or perhaps because of--the fact that they were virtually powerless, second-class citizens. That was something that I'd never really thought about before, and that's probably the reason why it struck me tonight more than ever. In fairness to the disciples, while it would have been very noble of them all to go along and die with Jesus, it would have meant there would be no one left to tell the story (except the women, and in that societal situation who would have listened to them?), so it was probably a good thing in the long run that they did run away, but tonight I was disgusted with them for their cowardice.

And yet, even while I was disgusted with them, I had to ask myself if I wouldn't have done the same thing in their shoes. Would I have had the courage to stand by Jesus and be persecuted and possibly killed with him? To answer this question I attempt to broaden it by imagining in Jesus' place a friend or family member, and it becomes easier to imagine standing my ground, but I still don't know that that's the choice I would make if I were actually faced with the decision.

I talk a lot about the cause of same-sex marriage (which, by the way, has just been sanctioned by the Supreme Court of IOWA; we're through the looking glass here, people, but I think it's nicer on this side) but I do so here, in my LiveJournal which is, after all, fairly anonymous. Yes, I was in The Laramie Project, and yes, I distributed pamphlets against our little marriage amendment when it was on the ballot in 2006, but how committed am I, really?

Just today I had a chance to speak up when people were talking about the Iowa Supreme Court decision in the break room at work, yet I remained silent. Last November I had a chance to speak up during the "Feast of Faith" lecture series thingie sponsored by the Cathedral, when the topic was "theology of the body" which, almost inevitably, included discussion of homosexual behavior as depraved and the inclination as disordered, which this particular speaker interpreted to mean a psychological disorder (and to be fair, he was not a psychologist so he could perhaps be forgiven for being behind the times as far as mental health diagnostics goes). There was a question-and-answer period afterwards, which would have been the perfect opportunity to speak up, but I did not. To be sure, I was so enraged that I was having trouble formulating my thoughts into something coherent, let alone rhetorically effective. I also justified my silence to myself, after the fact, by invoking the words of Father Roger Schmitt in The Laramie Project, convincing myself that I didn't want to make things worse by gibbering with rage and giving this well-meaning yet clueless speaker the opportunity to say, "You see how they are, these queer allies and 'fag-enablers'? You see how mere association with homosexuals makes one bestially violent?" But the fact of the matter was that I had another reason for not speaking up and it was good, old-fashioned, self-centered fear. I'd found friends amongst this good-hearted but tragically limited group of people; for the first time since moving to Sioux Falls I had a social life again, and I didn't want to jeopardize that. I didn't want to be judged, I wasn't willing to brand myself with the pink triangle and be ostracized. Which forces me to ask myself what I would have done, had I been a citizen of Nazi Germany, when the pink triangle meant not only ostracization but condemnation. Would I have stood in solidarity with my brothers, knowing that it would mean persecution and suffering and almost certain death? I can't say for certain, but this is why I chose Maximilian Kolbe as my patron saint when I was confirmed, in hopes that it would inspire me to follow his example of sacrificial love.

But I don't know that I have the strength of character to take it that far. Maybe it would be easier to die for, or die with, someone I love than it would be to stay by them and watch them suffer. I'm reminded of Tony Kushner's Angels in America, and that my favorite character in the play is Louis, the schmuck who deserts his boyfriend rather than care for him while he's dying of AIDS. It's not that I admire him for being a schmucky boyfriend, but I do admire the fact that he realizes he's a schmucky boyfriend and suffers a lot because of it. I relate to him more than any other character in the play because I know that, were I in his situation, I would be tempted to leave too.

Because it's one thing to care for another person, to feel sympathy and empathy and wish well for them; that sort of thing is easy. It's quite another thing to have to care for someone in concrete ways, cleaning up various secretions and execretions of bodily fluids and that sort of thing; that would be very difficult for me, and I hope that, were I in that situation, I would rise to the occasion and put my own wants and fears aside and make the sacrifice of caring for the other person, the person I loved, but I don't know. How many opportunities did I pass up to visit my beloved grandmother in the nursing home because I could hardly stand to be there, because the atmosphere was stifling? And how much worse must it have been for her, who had to stay there all the time? And how much more will I regret those lost opportunities if--more probably when--it becomes necessary for me to live out the rest of my days in a similar institution? How will I ever be able to expect people to take time out of their busy lives to come visit me when I didn't go visit her as often as I could have and should have?

To Bobby Jindal, Re: Volcanos

2009-03-03T00:07:54Z

Context: Last week President Obama (ooh, it still makes me feel all tingly when I say that) gave a speech to Congress regarding the state of the Union, but it wasn't officially a State of the Union speech because apparently you have to have been president for at least a year to give one of those. Regardless of the semantic distinctions, they had a prominent member of the opposing party give a response, as is customary. They picked Bobby Jindal, the governor of Louisiana where, as you might recall, they had a big ol' hurricane a few years ago, a harrowing experience that taught Bobby Jindal that spending money on natural disaster preparedness was a bad idea. This, for some reason, caused Jon Stewart to take a sausage link wrapped in a pancake and dip it into bacon-flavored mayonnaise and attempt to eat it. None of this made any sense.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Bobby Jindal's Republican Response

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Important Things With Demetri Martin

Political Humor
Joke of the Day

Governor Jindal, allow me to explain to you why we need to monitor volcanoes:

Perhaps you've heard of Yellowstone National Park, in the northwest corner of Wyoming. What you might not be aware of is that Yellowstone Park--nearly all 2.2 million acres of it--is a gigantic volcano caldera. A caldera, in case you are not aware, is the hole in a volcano where the lava comes out. Let me reiterate, because this is very important: the caldera is not IN Yellowstone Park; Yellowstone Park IS the caldera--that's how big it is. To put it another way, Yellowstone Park is a volcano, but not just any volcano; they call it a supervolcano. And it's still active. In point of fact, it's the largest active volcano in the world. They figure that it erupts every 600,000 years or so, and the last time it erupted was 630,000 years ago.

So basically, our great nation is sitting atop a huge ticking time bomb, which could theoretically go off at any time. If, God forbid, it does so during our lifetimes it won't just be a national emergency, it will be a worldwide emergency. As bad as Hurricane Katrina was--and I in no way mean to minimize the devastation and suffering that it caused--if, God forbid, Yellowstone were to blow during our lifetimes it would make Hurricane Katrina look like a refreshing April shower.

Now, to be fair, I can kind of see an argument against monitoring it; if, God forbid, it were to blow, it would be a catastrophe unlike anything the homo sapient race has ever experienced, and how do you possibly prepare for something like that? And if we can't prepare for it, maybe we're better off not knowing. On the other hand, if there IS something that we can do to prepare for it, we're probably better off doing it. And part of preparing, if any preparation is possible, is monitoring the situation so we have an idea of when our preparations will have to be put into action, just as meteorologists monitor hurricanes to try to predict where and when and with how much force they are going to hit. Of course, that doesn't always mean that they predict correctly, and it doesn't always mean that people are prepared for every contingency, but the knowledge that comes of monitoring the situation is a vital part of the preparation process.

Bottom line, Governor Jindal; if, God forbid, Yellowstone blows within our lifetimes, it probably won't make much difference to me, nor to most of us who live in the western and midwestern states, whether or not the government spent money on trying to prepare because, if we're lucky, we'll be killed instantly. Make no mistake about it; those killed instantly would be the lucky ones. But those of you in the southern and eastern states might be unfortunate enough to survive long enough to see the aftermath, and if you do survive, you just might be grateful that the federal government took the time and spent the money to monitor the situation and prepare for it. Or, if you and your Republican cohorts succeed in bankrupting the effort to monitor the Yellowstone situation, you might just live to regret it.

And a happy Mardi Gras to you, sir.

Incidentally, the source I have cited in this little essay is A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson, published by Broadway Books, copyright 2003. It's a very well-researched and accessibly written book, an excellent read if you want to have the ever-loving crap scared out of you.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

2009-02-24T20:16:52Z

Yesterday I did indeed go see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and I enjoyed all 166 minutes of it. It was a beautiful story about unconditional love and devotion, and about things happening in their own season. It's one of those movies that sort of defies genre categorization, and I like movies like that because they present an intellectual challenge and invite interpretation.

It won 3 Oscars on Sunday, for Art Direction, Visual Effects, and Make-up, the latter two unquestionably well-deserved, although I am bemused by the extent by which they have become almost the same thing in recent years. Not that that's a bad thing; if that's what it takes to keep the stories coming, then I'm all for it, and this is definitely a story that probably could have been presented without extensive CGI, but it probably wouldn't have been as effective. I felt that all the aging (or un-aging, as the case may be) effects in the movie were very skillfully and gracefully done.

I respect Brad Pitt as an actor because he seems to be one who tries to maintain artistic integrity and doesn't allow himself to be typecast or pigeonholed, but as a result he's played a lot of roles in which his character is, for lack of a better word, creepy. Creepy at best. So it was nice to see him play a not-creepy character for once. Well, he was still kind of creepy what with the whole digi-man-boy aspect of it, but the creepiness came more from the situation and not from the content of the character's soul.

I just realized what a frightening thing it would be to age backwards, because you'd have a much more definite idea of when exactly your life was going to end. Also, I found it interesting how the movie presented childhood as being analogous to old age, and how as he grew younger he seemed to suffer from dementia, which begs the question, is it because he's nearing the end of his life and his brain is worn out, or because his brain is becoming less developed? The movie doesn't answer the question, nor should it, but it's interesting to think about.

I found this movie very poignant because, as I said before, it's about things happening in their own seasons. Now don't get me wrong; I'm not remotely fatalistic in my worldview, because the last nine or ten years have taught me that things don't always happen the way that they're supposed to, or if they do then life is nothing more than a sick and pointless joke, which I refuse to believe. But on the other hand, some seasons or time periods are more auspicious for certain things to happen than others. For example, you could try to plant corn in the middle of winter, but it'd be a lot of unnecessary work and you probably wouldn't get very good results for your efforts. In my own life I've been feeling kind of impatient of late at the rate at which things are changing; I feel as though I should be doing more and accomplishing more and seeing more and faster results than I am. John Milton wrote several poems about that topic, that he felt that he wasn't using his time and his talents as fully and efficiently as he should have been. There's a famous sonnet, often identified by the first line: "When I consider how my light is spent", that he wrote about going blind, and in it he talks about how now that he's lost (or is losing) his vision he fears that he didn't make the most of the time that he had it. The last line is also rather famous: "They also serve who only stand and wait", or in other words, sometimes the best you can do is nothing, sometimes it's best to just be patient, to reassess the situation and to wait until conditions become more favorable. Which is not to say that you don't sometimes have to put in effort to get the results you want, nor is it to say that you will necessarily get the results you want even when you put in the effort. It's just to say that there are certain times when conditions are more favorable than others; it's not necessarily a waste of time to wait for more favorable conditions, and you might waste a lot of effort and resources trying to force things to happen out of season.

If there were ever a year to watch the Oscars...

2009-02-23T21:08:54Z

...not having seen any of the films, this was it. Not having seen any (well, most) of the movies, I don't have a lot of comments, but I have a few thoughts:

As previously implied, this was probably one of the most entertaining Oscar broadcasts in recent memory, I think the reason why can be summed up in one word: spectacle. Turns out singing and dancing are entertaining to watch. Who knew? And even the montages were made to be more entertaining, although they still weren't necessarily that interesting. Although I have to admit that I laughed when James Franco from Pineapple Express was watching James Franco in Milk make out with Sean Penn.

I loves me a Hugh Jackman. I love how his first big movie role in America was this big action superhero role, but in his heart he's just a big ol' musical theatre geek. Seriously, is there anything that man can't do?

I also loves me an Anne Hathaway. I sure wish I could go see her play Viola in Twelfth Night, because that would be amazing. And now that the movie musical is officially back, she should do more singing; I agree with Shirley McLaine on that.

By the way, I'm sure people think it's corny to have former Academy Award recipients come out and toast the nominees before announcing the awards, but I thought it was kind of nice. It kind of reminds people that the point is (or should be) to celebrate artistic skill and quality performance. Also I remember my friend Greg saying once that he prefers to see Oscar recepients give Oscars, and I think that's a good point; sort of like passing the torch or whatever. So I enjoyed the theme of inclusion.

I also kind of liked the way that they walked people through the production process in giving out the technical awards.

It was sort of awkward to watch Jennifer Aniston presenting with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie sitting in the front row, but at least it wasn't visibly uncomfortable.

I liked what Penelope Cruz said in her speech about art being a universal language. I agree, and I've been saying for years that we refer to them (sometimes) as the humanities because those are the things that make us human. The reason I bring this up is that recently our feminine-voiced governor Mike Rounds proposed a round of deeply devastating state budget cuts in which he threatened (among other things) to completely cut the funding for the South Dakota Arts Council. What would South Dakota be without arts, you ask? Very, very, very boring; acres of amber waves of grain, and that's about it. Fortunately, due to the passage of the stimulus bill it sounds like we're going to get to keep the Arts Council, so thank goodness for that.

I'm so happy for Sean Penn for Milk screenwriter Dustin Lance Black; what an inspiring tale he told of his parents' unconditional love for him. And I felt that Sean Penn struck exactly the right tone in his speech, his uncompromising devotion to his principles tempered by graciousness and humility so that he didn't come across as an arrogant douchebag as he has on some (most) other occasions. Also, I thought that he and Robin Wright were getting divorced, but she was there with him, so...apparently not? If they're reconciled, I am happy about that, I'm just confused. By the way, and not to take anything away from their accomplishment, but I notice that the "commie homo-loving" Academy doesn't seem to have much use for GLBT characters unless they die tragically. Although, indeed, Hollywood doesn't seem to have much use for well-developed non-tragic GLBT characters either. So, baby steps, I guess.

I suppose this might be an opportune time to mention Heath Ledger. It was not a surprise that he won, but it sure would have been a disappointment if he'd lost. I was very touched by his family's acceptance speeches, but I was even more touched by the outpouring of emotion from all the people watching. Interestingly, I read an article recently in which people who knew Heath and worked with him talked about him, and they said that he actually didn't want to win in 2006 when he was up for Brokeback Mountain. That made me feel kind of bad that I wanted it for him so badly, and was so incensed when he didn't win, but of course I only wanted it for him because I loved him and his performance so much. But anyway, I'm glad that he won, and though I of course wish he were here to receive it himself, I'm glad that he's in a place now where they can't use it to hurt him.

I felt that a lot of the commercial breaks were oddly timed, but I really wish they'd had a commercial break after giving out the supporting actor award so that we'd all have had a chance to compose ourselves, but no, apparently they thought it would be a better idea to send Bill Maher out there to shamelessly promote himself, which seemed just a little bit tacky to me, but what do I know? I certainly don't know anything about Bill Maher's documentary other than what he said about it, but what he said about it made me kind of angry (which, on the positive side, helped me stop crying), so I just want to take a moment to address Mr. Maher: okay, Mr. Maher, people do a lot of stupid crap in the name of religion; I'll freely concede the point. But people are responsible for their own actions, you can't just blame religion; "God made me do it" is as flimsy and unacceptable an excuse as "the devil made me do it." You seem to believe that the world would be a better place if there were no religion, and you're certainly entitled to your opinion, but I'm convinced that, in that case, people would just find other ways to justify the stupid crap they do.

Speaking of crying, I started crying again when Queen Latifah sang "I'll Be Seeing You" during the In Memoriam tribute, but that said, I'm not sure I liked it; I think in that case a simple montage might be better, if for no other reason that they seemed to have more people to memoralize than they had song to sing. Also, they had a chance to include Brad Renfro and they didn't, which I think is kind of too bad. Plus I hadn't heard that James Whitmore had died (on February 6th, apparently), so that was sad, but then he was 88 years old so that was hardly tragic.

It's about bloody time Kate Winslet won an Oscar; I am so happy for her. And though I try not to dwell on the fashions and stuff at the Oscars because I don't think that's what they should be about, she looked really classy with that elegant hairdo. Also it was charming when she told her dad to whistle so she'd know where he was.

So yeah, I'm very happy for the Slumdog Millionaire people; by all accounts it's a great film and Dev Patel is absolutely adorable. I'm looking forward to seeing it at some point, but unfortunately I'm still poor myself so it will have to wait until it comes to the discount theater or out on DVD. Speaking of the discount theater, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is there now; I've been meaning to go see it, but it's really long. But as it happens, I don't have anything else I HAVE to do today; what I had to do I've done already, and the only other thing that really needs doing is laundry, and I can't do that until I have more change anyway, so I might as well. I think I'll go do that.

To sum up, I enjoyed the Oscars, as I usually do, and of course the old debate rages on about whether the Academy is out of touch or hypocritical, about whether movies that make a lot of money are good and vice versa. So I'll just reiterate that I think that the Academy can stand to be a little more populist, and the populace can stand to be a little less hedonic; maybe we could all meet in the middle and be epicurean.

Ten years of La Vita Bella

2009-02-22T19:40:38Z

It's now ten years since Roberto Benigni won the Best Foreign Language Oscar and Best Actor Oscar for Life Is Beautiful, one of my favorite movies ever. It still maintains an IMDb rating of 8.4, and is ranked number 85 of its Top 250. And yet, I'm constantly dismayed by the resentment that people, particularly film critics, harbor toward that movie and toward Benigni, particularly for the best actor Oscar. Now, to be fair, I've never seen any of the other performances that were nominated for best actor that year (nor, unsurprisingly, the other foreign language film nominees) so I'm not prepared to make a value judgment, but people seem to regard that win particularly as a joke at best and an outrage at worst.

So I would just like to take a moment to get down on my knees and profess my undying love for Roberto Benigni and Life Is Beautiful. I love that man, and I love that movie. I think part of the reason for the mixed reception that the man and the movie--particularly the man--received in America is due to culture shock. Typically speaking, Americans are not so effusive in expressing our emotions, particularly our positive emotions, which is not to suggest that all Italians are as demonstrative as Benigni, but I do think, based on limited cultural exposure, it's more acceptable for them to be animated--in their hands, in their faces, in their voices--than it is for most of us Americans. Moreover, I think that there's a great pervading sense of cynicism in American culture; those of us who aren't cynics are taught to believe that we should be, so I think we sometimes have trouble embracing love and joy and light-heartedness and joie de vivre, maybe because we are afraid that if we partake too fully and gladly of it we will have pay a penalty for it later. And so when someone comes to us with a heart overflowing with love and joy and gratitude, I think we either have trouble accepting that it is genuine and not just a ploy to manipulate us, or we feel jealous that someone embracing so wholeheartedly that which we have denied ourselves.

I see a lot of similar themes in Life Is Beautiful to The Shawshank Redemption; they're both stories about overcoming adversity with love and hope and joy and imagination, about the resiliency of the human spirit, about brave men who stand in the face of pure malevolence and refuse to be broken. I can see why those interpellated into a cynical worldview, particularly those who are cynical by nature, would object to that; after all, some people do break and some people do fall, and sometimes evil seems to triumph. And yet, I think that cynicism can become a self-fulfilling prophecy; if we continually expect people to break and to fall and to let us down then they will live down to our expectations.

I think that Roberto Benigni is one of the most aptly named human beings I have ever heard of; assuming that his last name comes from the same Latin root as the word "benign" (which I think is a pretty safe assumption), it evokes good feelings and good intentions. To me, he is the personification of joy. I can see why some people would feel bewildered and even affronted by this effervescent outpouring of love and joy and gratitude, especially in trying times. On the other hand, what would happen if everyone could see hardships like poverty as a gift, a chance to learn and appreciate what is really important? What if, as in the movie, we saw adversity not as a burden but as a game, a chance to test one's courage and endurance against a skilled opponent. It's an idealistic notion to be sure, but then I am an Idealist and so, I believe, is Roberto Benigni. Come to think of it, I think that's why I love him, because he is a kindred spirit and he reminds me of what I really am.

The Tales of Beedle the Bard

2009-02-06T03:53:22Z

Hmm, I'm doing kind of a lot of posts in a row, but since I've got some time I might as well.

And since I'm done with school now I have more time to read for pleasure and to write middlingly scholarly critiques of said pleasure reads.

I recently purchased the Tales of Beedle the Bard with a Christmas gift card. I had seen the Tales themselves before; when Amazon purchased the special edition at auction they transcribed all the tales and published them on the website. However, the commentary by Dumbledore was new, and mostly delightful, although I have to admit that I had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I loves me a Dumbledore, but on the other hand, it brought up bad feelings about when she published Quidditch Through the Ages and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them in 2001, and they had introductions by Dumbledore, and since the events of the books concluded in 1997 or '98, I took this to mean that Dumbledore was one of the characters who was going to survive, which was one of the reasons why his death came as such a great shock. Of course, there was never any indication WHEN exactly Dumbledore presumably wrote those introductions; I leapt to a conclusion and was well punished for it. That said, I am glad that Ms. Rowling did in fact provide an explanation for this book, and after all, I certainly wouldn't have wanted her to have included author's notes in the other volumes giving away that Dumbledore was doomed.

I understand why Ms. Rowling doesn't necessarily want to stay in the Harry Potter universe for the rest of her writing career, but if she did wish to do so I think there's almost infinite scope for her to continue to develop it. For example, twice she's mentioned Hairy Snout, Human Heart, "a heartrending account of one man's struggle with lycanthropy"...and if she wanted to write it, there would probably be a market for it. I'd buy it. Also, I'd be immensely interested in reading more about the Wizarding Academy for the Dramatic Arts, although I suppose such a novel might be prone to becoming melodramatic (almost certainly, now that I really think about it).

As to the Tales themselves, I was most favorably impressed by "The Fountain of Fair Fortune," dubiously impressed by "The Warlock's Hairy Heart" and "The Wizarding and the Hopping Pot," and minimally impressed by "Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump" (although it has the best title). And then, of course, "The Tale of the Three Brothers" was nothing new, except for the commentary, and that probably would have been more impressive had I not already read HPDH, although it was kind of interesting to go back and trace the fabled history of the Elder Wand. One thing stood out about the commentary, and that was Dumbledore's footnote that "No witch has ever claimed to own the Elder Wand. Make of that what you will." Well, I make of it that JKR was being uncharacteristically sexist, or at least more blatantly Freudian than is her wont.

"Babbity Rabbity" is a perfectly delightful, though pretty standard, fairy tale; again, the best part about it is the commentary and the insights about Animagi vs. transfigured wizards, etc. I also enjoyed the academic parody of the "excerpt" from Bertrand de Penseés-Profondes' scholarly treatise about reawakening the dead. (Also, I'm proud to say that I retain enough knowledge of French to know that Bertrand's name translates as "Bertrand of Profound Thoughts".)

I'm quite glad for the commentary on "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot," which expounds upon the story's actual theme and puts it in context, because by itself I don't think that the story sends a very good message, particularly for us Muggles who don't have magical powers. Or let me put it another way; I think that, without the commentary, the message could be easily misconstrued. Of course it's good to help people to the extent that you are able, and of course even when you have to refuse someone help you shouldn't be rude about it, but on the other hand, you shouldn't allow people (or enchanted pots) to take advantage of you. I'm not for a moment suggesting that that was Ms. Rowling's (or Beedle's, if you prefer) intended theme, but I can see how it would be easy for people who already have boundary issues to misconstrue that. By the way, on the subject of the commentary, this was another opportunity for Ms. Rowling to wax sardonically eloquent on the subject of censorship, clueless literary reviewers, inane children's literature, etc. and therefore an utter delight; perhaps more so then the story itself.

"The Warlock's Hairy Heart" appeals to my Gothic sensibilities, so I derived much the same pleasure from it as I derive from the works of Stephen King, Edgar Allen Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, etc. That said, the first time I read it I was shocked to find how grim and gruesome it was, because I thought the title made it sound like it was going to be funny. I don't know why, but "Warlock" is kind of a funny-sounding word (with the "K" sound and all), and the alliteration of "Hairy Heart" kind of sounded funny...so maybe if I'd actually thought about what the words meant instead of how they sound I might have gotten a clue, but I didn't. Anyway, I found it to be pleasantly creepy and wonderfully original (particularly the whole concept behind the "hairy heart"), and again, the commentary was quite illuminating.

But without a doubt my favorite story in the whole book is "The Fountain of Fair Fortune," which kicks ASS! Even though it's a pretty standard fairy-tale formula, it is refreshing to see active and proactive female characters within that familiar paradigm, although I have to point out that I felt that JKR was a little bit harsh in her critique of Sleeping Beauty and Snow White; I mean, the point is well taken about the tradition of passive and poorly developed female characters in fairy tales--typically written by men of course--but in fairness to the characters themselves, it's not as though they chose to "take a prolonged nap"; they were poisoned and enchanted, for crying out loud, which could happen to anyone if they're not careful. My point is that I think it's good to strike a balance and to have stronger and better developed female characters in fairy tales without beating your reader over the head with the magnanimity of your female empowerment and gender equality. Similarly, I thought the comical hijinks of Sir Luckless might have been a bit overdone at times, but at least he's redeemed at the end and isn't just the lovable buffoon--plus, of course, he gets to exemplify the point about tolerating Muggle-magic mixed marriages, which is awesome. There are so many good messages and themes in the story, and yet it never gets annoyingly preachy or condescending, plus it's genuinely exciting and engaging. To sum it all up, I wish this story had existed when I was a kid, because fairy tales are and always have been my weakness; according to Keirsey this is due to my Idealist temperament, but I do think that traditional fairy tales did give me an overly romanticized view of reality, and I think that more stories in this vein would have helped to strike a better balance, fulfilling my desire for fantasy and romance and magic, and yet promoting a more realistic view of life and of love, which I think would have been more healthy for me and helped to save me a lot of trouble in the long run. Rest assured that if I ever have kids, they will hear "The Fountain of Fair Fortune" early and often, as often as they can stand it. (But they'll probably have to discover "The Warlock's Hairy Heart" on their own.)

Oh yeah, the commentary for "The Fountain of Fair Fortune" brought me back to one of the fundamentals that made me fall in love with the Harry Potter series in the first place: the moments of pure, silly humor, unrelated to the actual plot. Being a theatre geek, I enjoyed the story of the doomed pantomime performance. That anecdote juxtaposed against the sardonic humor of Lucius Malfoy's attempt to get the story banned from the Hogwarts library just goes to show off Ms. Rowling's genius.

Speaking for myself, as long as Ms. Rowling wishes to stay in the Harry Potter universe, I'll be willing to follow her, but I'll also follow her anywhere else.

Hey, I just thought of another showtune into which I can work Obama's name!

2009-02-06T02:27:29Z

"Maria" from West Side Story:

"Obama, my president's name is Obama.
And suddenly that [...] will never be the same to me..."

Now, you could just use "name" in that space that I left as it is in the original song, but I'm trying to think of a one-syllable word that can refer to the office of the presidency, and I'm drawing a blank. Any ideas?

Virtuosity

2009-01-25T08:31:11Z

I hope you'll indulge me as I continue to work through my grief. My counselor told me last fall that grief never really goes away, although it (usually) gets easier to bear after a while. Now that I think about it, you wouldn't really want it to go away entirely, because that would mean forgetting about the people you lost.

So as you can probably imagine, Heath Ledger is much on my mind lately, what with the anniversary and the movie awards season and the year-end retrospectives on people who have died in 2008.

While I've been meaning to go back and see at least some of his other films, I haven't gotten around to it yet, what with school and all, as well as cultivating a social life for myself here in Sioux Falls, which has been so important to me because forming close relationships with other people is what makes life worth living, particularly for an Idealist like myself, and with Heath's death serving as a memento mori, I really didn't want to waste any more time in this sort of social vacuum in which I'd been existing for roughly two years.

But anyway, I was just watching a clip of an interview that Heath gave about Brokeback Mountain, and I realized I don't know if he had played any other roles in which he had to age as much as (or more than) he did in that film. Nevertheless, I still feel that that was an astonishing accomplishment for a young actor, to age a character 20 years over the course of a film. I always think of the character of Ennis Del Mar as burdened down by society's expectations, and as the years go by he becomes more and more burdened with his secret and the failure of his marriage, the lies he tells to himself and others, and finally the loss of Jack. And during all that time it's always and only on his mountain excursions with Jack that he can lay down that burden for a while and feel free and be himself. At the end of the movie the sense that I always get of him is that he's so world-weary, so spiritually crippled by the burdens that he's had to bear, and Heath's portrayal of that is so beautiful and inspired. When speaking about the role, he often talked about Ennis' rigidity and emotional guardedness and how his few words had to fight their way through clenched teeth and pursed lips, and for that reason I find the moments of tenderness that he portrays in the film all the more poignant; there are the obvious examples of the flashback and the scene with the shirts, but there are other, smaller moments too, so small that they defy description, but so significant and so achingly beautiful. It's awe-inspiring; even now--perhaps especially now--it fills me with wonder: how did he do that? how did he accomplish such a magnificent feat? And yet, at the same time I really don't want to know because that would spoil the magic of it--the heart-breaking, melancholy magic.

Not to take away from his accomplishment in The Dark Knight, which was also incredible. The two roles and two performances were so different that there's almost no basis of comparison between them except that they were performed by the same actor; the same genius at work but achieving two entirely different ends. It's still so sad to imagine what he might have accomplished, but I think there's a strong argument to be made that he'd already reached the level of virtuosity.

Free at last, free at last!

2009-01-21T02:19:21Z

Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

Free of President George W. Bush, that is. From now on, and forever, he is Ex-President George W. Bush. That is how I prefer to think of him, although it's probably more respectful to say "Former President Bush", but the "ex" makes such a stronger statement (also it would be a handy way to differentiate him from his father).

Oh, what a joyous day this is! Although I knew intellectually this day would come eventually, part of me was afraid that it would never come.

This would, of course, have been a joyous day no matter who was Ex-President Bush's successor, but the fact that it is Barack Obama, a man whom I truly respect and admire, makes this a day of unparalleled delight. Except that "delight" is a bit too capricious an adjective, because there is a tremendous solemnity to this joyous and wondrous occasion.

I recorded the proceedings from NBC, for no particular reason other than that's the channel I happened to be tuned to; all the networks carried it, so it didn't really matter. But because I picked NBC I was able to hear my fellow South Dakotan Tom Brokaw's commentary on the occasion (Tom Brokaw being another man I truly respect and admire). He and his fellow commentators were talking about the civil rights leaders that paved the way for Barack Obama to be the president, and Tom Brokaw said, "I don't think we can pay enough tribute to Dr. King," and I completely agree. Sometimes as I face the various personal struggles of my own life, in my moments of weakness I wonder if it's possible for Good to overcome Evil without compromising itself, and therefore if it's possible for Good to triumph at all, because if Good triumphs by compromising itself, then it's no longer Good. And in these moments of weakness I remember Martin Luther King Jr., and Mohandas Ghandi and all those who stood by them and worked with them and I remember that it's possible to fight without resorting to violence and that Good can overcome Evil without compromising its integrity.

At this moment, friends and strangers, anything seems possible; sometimes that is a terrifying thought, but at this moment it is exhilarating.

From Dark Ages to Brighter Tomorrows

2009-01-20T03:19:54Z

My, what a grandiose post title! I'd like to say something really profound to match it, on this the eve of Barack Obama's inauguration, on this the last night of George W. Bush's presidency EVER!

All I can think to say, however, is that I think it's tremendously fitting that Barack Obama's inauguration is coming on the heels of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. You know, I'm sure I knew at some point that Dr. King was only 39 years old when he was killed, but it's only at this moment that I fully realize how young he was, how much he accomplished in such a short span of time, and how much more he could have accomplished had he lived. Perhaps he could have been president himself, although that seems unlikely because, even putting aside the whole race issue, he was an Idealist and according to David Keirsey, who wrote a book analyzing the temperaments of all the presidents, there has never been an Idealist president, and he briefly explains why he thinks there probably will never be one in this excerpt. He and his other temperament analysts conclude that Barack Obama is a Rational, and I'm sure that they're right because as far as I can tell he does seem to have the strategic intellect, but he also talks a lot about idealism and he seems to share some values with us Idealists, like altruism and authenticity. In fact, the more I think about it, the more perfect he seems for the presidency in the current times: visionary enough to see the potential for a better future and pragmatic enough to conceive and actually implement plans to achieve it.

Over the course of the last election I've had difficulty articulating why Barack Obama appeals to me so, because so much of it are things that I've picked up intuitively, which are very hard to put into words, especially if you're trying to make an argument to persuade those who are skeptical, if not outright hostile, to your viewpoint. But I think now I can at least express my intuitive knowledge, even though it will still necessarily be in very abstract terms. First of all, putting aside for the moment all question of politics and ideology and believe, I get a sense from Barack Obama that I haven't gotten from the last two presidents and indeed get from very few politicians in general, which is that Obama is motivated by a genuine desire to help people and improve the country, whereas with most politicians in general and particularly with counting-down-the-hours-still-President Bush and Bill Clinton, the sense that I got was that their first priority was to do whatever they thought was going to benefit them, and only after that concern themselves with whether or not it was the best thing to do for the country. I get that sense from both Bill and Hillary Clinton, by the way, and I believe that that's the main reason that their marriage survives; whether their attachment is purely pragmatic at this point or whether there's some emotional attachment I couldn't say, and it's really none of my business, but regardless of what they feel, they need each other in order to survive politically. Anyway, the point I was trying to make it that, even if I don't agree with Barack Obama on some things, I trust him to do whatever he sincerely believes is best for the country. Which brings me to my second and slightly less abstract point: even when I disagree with Barack Obama about certain issues or what have you, I can understand why he takes the position that he does. There's an internal logic to his value system; therefore I am able to respectfully disagree. Whereas with counting-down-the-hours-still-President Bush it's exactly the opposite: even when I agree with him, his reasoning makes no sense; even when it seems to make sense, it makes no sense within the larger context of his ideology.

Anyway, I would really love to watch the inauguration tomorrow, but unfortunately I have to work, so I'll only be able to watch a little bit of it over my lunch break (and that only if they have the TV tuned to the right channel, but most of the networks will be covering it so chances are pretty good that it will be on). I don't have digital anything for my TV yet, and were it not for the fact that they are legally obligated to stop broadcast analog signals next month that probably would not change. It's not that I don't like TV; on the contrary, I like it a lot, and when I had cable I could easily and happily spend a whole day watching it. But I find that I can take it or leave it; if it's there, I'll watch it and if not, I'll do something else. (I do sincerely, and with a passion, hate commercials, so I find that it suits me better either to watch TV on DVD, where there are no commercials, or online, where there are far fewer.) My point for all this is that if I want to record the inauguration to watch it later, I have no choice but to record it the old-fashioned way on my VCR. I suppose that's probably not necessary because it will probably be online too, but probably just in little pieces and low resolution at first, and for some reason this is something that I'd like to get off the TV.

Do they even make blank video tapes anymore? I don't know, but I have one in my possession that was unlabeled, so I decided to see what, if anything, was on it. Strangely enough, it was the women's figure skating competition for the 2006 Olympics in Torino. At first I had no recollection of why I taped it, but I left in all the commercials so I must have been doing something else at the time it was going on, and I vaguely remember now that for whatever reason I had to watch it after the fact, but beshrew me if I can remember what was going on that prevented me from watching it as it happened. Since I knew there must have been a reason why I taped it in the first place, I was hesitant to tape over it, but while that competition was exciting and historic in that it was the first time Japan ever won a gold medal in figure skating, the fact that I hadn't watched it since then and even forgot that I had it taped implies to me that it's not important enough to save. I probably should save it because it was the first Olympics in which they used their new figure skating scoring system, and they had to keep explaining it because (a) it was new and (b) it's ridiculously complicated. I think so, anyway. I know it was implement because they found during the 2002 games that it was far too easy to cheat under the old system, so I suppose they had to make the new one complicated enough so that it wouldn't be so easy to cheat, but it seems to me that they went too far. And they probably won't explain it in as much detail again as they did back then when it was new, especially since the die-hard skating fans have been following it in the various yearly competitions over the past three years and probably understand it by now. But that's the thing: I know that I'm never going to REALLY understand it, even if it's explained to me a gazillion times, so unfortunately I'm always going to be at the mercy of the commentators for any analysis more in-depth than "falling down hurts your score."

Golden Globes

2009-01-12T05:15:50Z

You know, last year I didn't put the results behind a cut, and maybe I should have. But then, maybe anyone who actually cares was either also watching or looked up the results already.

I don't have a lot to say, not having seen many movies or watched much TV this past year. One thing that I learned from watching this particular broadcast is that a five-second delay is not enough time to blur out obscene gestures, which is interesting to know. I wonder how much time they would need for that; perhaps we'll find out. I kind of hope not.

But anyway, there are three results that I want to comment briefly about:

1.) Tina Fey is awesome, and part of me wants to be her, although I hope she doesn't always let Tracy Morgan speak for the show from now on. Nothing against Tracy Morgan, but a little of him goes a long way. While I was happy for 30 Rock winning stuff, part of me wishes that it had not won because now its stupidly repetitive and annoying theme song is running through my head.

2.) Sooooooooooooooooo happy for Kate Winslet! She's such a brilliant actor and it's so nice to see her finally getting her due. It was gratifying to see her win one award, but to see her win two in one night was really a delight.

3.) Of course I have to talk about my boy, Heath Ledger, but I'll warn you right now, it's not going to be coherent. Of course it's gratifying to see all these posthumous awards going to him, but it's also bittersweet. Speaking for myself, it's bittersweet that people didn't appreciate him like this when he was still alive (particularly for Brokeback Mountain, which will always be my biased favorite), because there's always the nagging doubt: are they awarding it to him because they honestly thought it was the best performance, or because they feel bad that he's dead?

Don't get me wrong; I believe that he earned every nomination and award he ever received, and I didn't see any of the other nominated performances so I'm not in a position to make an unbiased judgment, but he was as brilliant in The Dark Knight as he was in everything else he endeavored, and I believe (or at least I hope) that he'd be getting all these awards were he still alive, or at the very least the nominations.

It wasn't until just before the awards were announced that I fully realized that he was once again nominated in the same category as Philip Seymour Hoffman, the man who outshone him during the 2005-2006 awards season, and I said to myself, "If Philip Seymour Hoffman beats him again, I am going to punch something." Nothing against Philip Seymour Hoffman, who is a perfectly fine and gifted actor in his own right, a worthy recipient of the 2006 Best Actor Oscar among many other awards from that season, and (if I remember actually reading this and didn't dream it) a friend of Heath's.

Anyway, I thought Christopher Nolan's speech was eloquent and perfect, and speaking of bittersweet, what a difficult task that must be to accept these awards on Heath's behalf. On the one hand, it would be a privilege and a pleasure to honor a friend and valued colleague, but on the other hand you would prefer that he was here to accept them himself. And perhaps, just a tiny, tiny bit of you would feel jealous that you were accepting someone else's award rather than your own, and then maybe you would feel guilty for feeling jealous. Or maybe that would just be me. In any case, I was very touched by his speech. Though, interestingly enough, not to the point of tears. What a difference a year makes.

Archangel Quiz

2008-12-04T03:52:53Z

So there's a meme going around about the Belief-O-Matic Quiz, which I don't want to do because the questions are so very vague. But then they had another quiz which was the Which Archangel Are You? Quiz.

This was intriguing to me because I've been taking a seminar on John Milton, and most of it has been studying Paradise Lost, in which two of the four archangels are major characters.

Well, my result on the quiz was Raphael, which made me happy, because he's pretty much my favorite character in Paradise Lost, and because one of my dearest friends is named Raphael, so I feel connected to the name, at any rate.

Star Trek Voyager parody

2008-11-29T03:16:29Z

Someone finally had the sense to free it from its original MST3k context and post it on YouTube as a stand-alone. Huzzah! It features Mike Nelson in drag as Captain Janeway...and he's pretty convincing, actually.

Watch. Enjoy. That's an order! I'm kidding, but seriously, it's really funny and I think most of you will enjoy it.

Well, so I did go see Twilight after all...

2008-11-25T02:46:06Z

You see, I was feeling hormonally unbalanced and overly emotional, so I thought getting out of the house and seeing a teen-angst movie would help. And it did. I did enjoy the movie, though not necessarily in the way the filmmakers intended. And yet, as it was ending and I was leaving the theater, I felt kind of ashamed for having spent money on it (although it was a matinee, so I didn't pay full price for it), and kind of nervous that I might run into someone I know and feel the need to explain myself, but that didn't happen so it's fine.

Anyway, as to the film itself...as I expected, it is prime Rifftrax fodder. Example:

BELLA--Let's assume for the sake of argument that I'm not smart.
ME--Wow, that's a stretch.

There were quite a few places in the movie where I enjoyed a hearty guffaw where no one else seemed to. That said, however, I think the medium of film served the material well as far as making it seem less ridiculous, as did having actual, three-dimensional human beings portraying the various roles. I think that casting Robert Pattinson in the role of Edward was wise, because I found myself liking the character as portrayed by him, whereas I didn't expect to like him at all (due to transference, if nothing else). But he brought something indefinably endearing to the role. I guess somehow through his acting ethos he brought some credibility to the role and to the project--no mean feat, so let's give him credit where credit is due. He's also quite pretty, and I'm not sure why; I wouldn't categorize any of the individual features of his face particularly attractive, and yet put them all together and somehow it works. So yeah, he's definitely the glue that holds this thing together; I was impressed with him, and I will be watching his career with interest.

I don't know what else to say, really. It wasn't as unintentionally hilarious as I thought it might be, but certainly presented a lot of raw material for parody. What I needed from it was escapism, and it provided in spades, so I guess from that viewpoint I can recommend it--provisionally. Oh, and because I know it will be of interest to some people, the girl who played Fritzie in Camp was in it, which of course opens up a whole new avenue of parody possibilities.

Maybe I should go see a movie to take my mind off my troubles

2008-11-21T01:33:26Z

Apparently Twilight, starring Cedric Diggory and Diet Natalie Portman, is opening tonight at midnight, which sounds really silly when you just say it like that. I'm so depressed I almost want to see it in hopes that it will be so unintentionally hilarious that it will take my mind off my troubles. But on the other hand, it might just be completely stupid and make me more depressed, not to mention 8 to 10 dollars poorer and nervous because I would be surrounded by a crowd of hormone-crazed, angst-ridden teen girls. Mega-Teen-Girl-Squad!

I do want to see the movie eventually; I just don't want to pay to see it, because I'm expecting to pay money for the Rifftrax, whenever there is one. I know there will be eventually, and if there isn't I'll make my own version, because without having seen it, I know intuitively that Twilight is the kind of movie just made for Rifftrax.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that I haven't read the books either, nor do I intend to. So I suppose I don't really have the right to judge, so I'll try to say this as ingenuously as possible: from what I understand, this girl falls in love with this guy, but he like completely ignores and avoids her and treats her inconsiderately, and she's all hurt, but then it turns out that the reason that he completely ignores her is because he actually loves her too, but he's a vampire and so he stays away from her to protect her from himself.

Without making any unfair criticisms, I'm just thankful that the book series didn't exist when I myself was a hormone-crazed, angst-ridden teen girl, because I myself was also in love with someone who completely ignored and avoided me and treated me inconsiderately, but it turns out that he just didn't like me. Had the books existed and had I read them (which is kind of unlikely in the first place because I'm not really into vampires), I probably would have become even more deluded; I probably wouldn't have concluded that he was a vampire (although it would have been good if I did because that would have been a major turn-off), but I probably would have taken it as reason to hope that he really did like me and there was some sort of noble reason why he always ignored and avoided me and treated me badly. Because I did read a book once which was actually quite cute and clever and not remotely similar to Twilight (as near as I can tell) except for the motif of a guy treating a girl really badly because he was secretly in love with her, and maybe if I hadn't read it I would have wised up more quickly.

*sigh* That kind of plot just really, really annoys me, because I know the damage it can do. Not to say that people aren't responsible for their own thoughts and feelings and actions, because they are...and yet, books can have a powerful influence, especially if they seem to give us license to believe what we want to believe.

Type and Temperament

2008-11-17T00:06:19Z

I should be working on my seminar paper, but I'm waiting for some materials to become available through Interlibrary Loan. In the meantime, since I know everyone enjoys polls and memes and things, I would like to invite you all to participate in a little experiment:

View Poll: Personality Type and Temperament

I said this was an experiment; my hypothesis is that, while Guardians are the most plentiful temperament according to Keirsey, that they are going to be the least represented group among my friends and/or people who read my LiveJournal.

Long Night's Journey into Day

2008-11-06T04:35:28Z

Four years ago, I wrote the words "Hope is dead."

Sometime in the 19th century, Emily Dickinson wrote the words, "Hope is the thing with feathers"

For a long time I didn't understand what she meant by that. This was because I was in high school and college at the time, still growing, still learning, but still sheltered and innocent enough to be idealistic. In those days I could never understand why someone would want to lock herself away from the world. Having lived out in the world, gaining experience through first-hand exposure to its wicked ways, I understand better now.

I also understand a little bit more about the nature of hope. Ms. Dickinson, being a poet, was not overly specific when she said that hope is a thing with feathers, but now I understand...

Hope is a phoenix.

No matter how many times it seems to be completely destroyed, it rises again from the ashes. It continually resurrects and rejuvenates itself.

Four years ago was the beginning of the darkest period of my life, which was due to a number of factors--mostly in my personal life--that were in play before the 2004 election, but that election is a convenient marker because after that is when it all really started to go downhill. Am I better off now than I was four years ago? I am indeed, but it is in spite of the current lame-duck administration, not because of it. Likewise, my personal life started to improve months ago, independent of this election, but now I feel more confident than ever that more and better things may be coming for me soon. I've always believed that anything is possible, but now that thought excites and energizes rather than terrifies me.

Four years ago, in the depths of my despair, I sought solace from a wise mentor, trusted counselor, and valued friend; he comforted me in part by the mere fact that he shared my pain, but he also said something else that helped a lot at the time, and comes back to me now: time is cyclical. Four years ago was a low point in the cycle (though not the lowest point for me, personally). Now the cycle is back on the upswing.

This was only the third presidential election that I have been eligible to vote in and (I'm ashamed to admit) only the second one that I've voted in. I count myself fortunate that I should have a candidate that I genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted to vote for, that I didn't have to resign myself to weighing the lesser of two evils. Barack Obama is a man after my own heart, or--if not my heart--whatever is the best and purest part of me. That he won is incredible enough, but that he won by such a definitive margin seems nothing short of miraculous.

Jon Stewart said something last night that I felt was particularly profound: "There are very few countries in the world that live up to their creed [...] America tonight lives up to its promise." I'm reminded also of Jon Stewart's speech following September 11, 2001--harbinger of dark days to come--when he said the aftermath of the attack was "a dream realized, and that is Martin Luther King's dream." Barack Obama's election is also Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream realized; not just because we elected a black president, but because we judged him--I believe--not by the color of his skin but by the content of his character. Even if it is just momentary, I have never been prouder of my country than I am at this moment.

Four years ago we elected the president that we deserved. Now we've elected the president who is most deserving.

It's not that easy bein' green...

2008-10-13T23:48:02Z

...and I mean that in more ways than one.

I bought some canvas bags from the grocery store so that I could reuse them when I go grocery shopping, and solve the whole paper/plastic dilemma. Except that, predictably, I always forget to bring the bags with me. I've only remembered them once.

For Halloween I decided to embrace my true nature and dress up as the Incredible Hulk. Now, I suppose that I could just buy or rent an Incredible Hulk costume, but for me, half the fun of dressing up for Halloween is creatively putting a costume together. I happened to have a green turtleneck and green tights, which is half the battle right there. So I've been looking for other green accessories to complete the ensemble; I found green gloves and green shoes. Unfortunately I'm having a really hard time finding green socks, or more accurately, I'm having a hard time finding socks that are completely green. I've also been having a hard time finding green make-up, which I didn't think would be that difficult. The problem is that most of the time I can only find a little dab of green in a larger make-up kit, and I don't really want to buy the whole kit. Today I did find a tube of green make-up packaged all by its lonesome, and I bought it, but I don't think it's going to work, because I tried some on as a test, and it's too yellow, especially when it dries. To be candid, it looks like poop. And I really don't want to be walking around looking like I've smeared poop all over my face. So I might have to go and buy the whole kit anyway. The Halloween store should have tester tubes for its make-up, but I suppose then it probably wouldn't sell as much.

Also, one of the consequences of putting together a costume like this is that all my green stuff is in different shades. So I'll be kind of a Motley Hulk.

Ten Years

2008-10-12T19:29:27Z

Today is the ten-year anniversary of Matthew Shepard's death. Matthew's beating and death have had a significant impact on my life, and so I always try to commemorate the last week of his life. Today I lit a candle, as I have done every day this week in Matthew's honor, and I said the Rosary, invoking the Sorrowful Mysteries, which recount the story of the death of Jesus. It was a profoundly spiritual experience.

It's not difficult to draw parallels between the death of Matthew Shepard and the death of Jesus Christ. Both were persecuted and both were martyred. At one point in The Laramie Project, someone uses the word "crucifixion" to describe Matthew's being tied to a fence, and Stephen Mead Johnson, describing the site, says, "It is so stark and empty and you can't help but think of Matthew there for eighteen hours in nearly freezing temperatures, with that view up there isolated, and the 'God, my God, why have you forsaken me?' comes to mind." Now, I do not mean to equate Matthew Shepard with Jesus, nor do I wish to elevate him to Jesus' level. And yet, I can't help but think of when Jesus says (in the gospel of Matthew, interestingly enough), that whatever you do for--or, in this case, to--the least of his brothers, you do to him.

As I said the Hail Marys, I thought of Jesus' mother, and how she must have suffered watching her son having die such a painful and humiliating death. And I also thought of Matthew Shepard's mother Judy, who was at least spared the sight of seeing her son tied to a fence, but how she must have suffered standing beside her son's hospital bed and looking down at him when he'd been beaten almost beyond recognition. As I was contemplating the crucifixion of Jesus, before I said the Our Father, I reread the portion of Dennis Shepard's statement to the court at Aaron McKinney's trial that's included in The Laramie Project. Dennis and Judy Shepard refused to seek the death penalty for Aaron McKinney; rather, they decided "To show mercy to one who refused to show any mercy." In other words, they didn't demand an eye for an eye, but chose instead to turn the other cheek.

Earlier in his statement Dennis Shepard says, "Matt's beating, hospitalization and funeral focuses worldwide attention on hate. Good is coming out of evil. People have said enough is enough." Through the work of the Matthew Shepard Foundation, Judy and Dennis Shepard have continued to bring good out of the evil of their son's death by continuing to focus attention on hate, and to fight it with love, which is the only way to defeat hate, though the world is slow to realize it or to really believe it. Judy Shepard sent out a heartbreaking mailing this week entitled "Ten Years: No Progress," in which she talks about being discouraged by an angry letter to the editor in response to reports about events commemorating Matthew's death. She is disheartened by the continuing prevalence of such attitudes, "the magnitude with which some people hate," as Rulon Stacey puts it in The Laramie Project. It reminds her of how much work remains to be done in focusing attention on hate, in helping us all to realize that just because Matthew wasn't our son or brother or friend, he could have been, and the attitudes, the "seeds of violence" that blossomed that night ten years ago and ended in the fruition of Matthew's death, those attitudes affect us all; those "seeds of violence" grow up to be weeds, and sometimes they literally choke out our life, as they did Matthew, or sometimes they figurative choke out our souls, and destroy the goodness and compassion and mercy that should be there.

I said at the beginning of this entry that Matthew's death has had a significant impact on my life. He continues to inspire me to work for good and love and to strive for self-actualization. And so I say, with a grateful and humble heart, in the words of Harry Woods in The Laramie Project, "Thank you, Matthew."

Wonderfully weird people with way too much time on their hands

2008-10-03T00:49:27Z

Okay, I found a MST3k "fan film" on YouTube that has left me both confused and delighted.

But before I get into that, I must initiate you into the mysteries of The Final Sacrifice, one of the most memorable MST3k features ever, mostly because it features a character named--and I'm not making this up--Zap Rowsdower, who meets up with this kid named Troy who's being pursued by this cult of men who run around in tank tops and black hoods and wield all sorts of weaponry, led by this disturbed-looking man in a black trenchcoat with a digitally modified voice whom Mike and the 'bots dub "Canadian villain Garth Vader." They're all looking for a hidden city, and along the way our heroes meet up with a scrawny, grizzled mountain man with buggy eyes who talks like Yosemite Sam, whose name is--I'm not making this up either--Mike Pipper. It has to be seen to believed, and for some reason I can't find the whole episode in its non-segmented form online anymore, but thankfully somebody put together a montage of highlights:

At about 6:43 of the above video, they make up a commercial for "Zap and Troy: the Legendary Journeys." And so the parody torch was passed, and somebody made up a trailer for that imaginary series:

What confused and delighted me the most about this little gem is the fact that they used Pirates of the Caribbean music as the theme music. I mean, I can understand why they would use PotC music (although I wonder why they didn't use the Final Sacrifice theme music, which I enjoy even though it is oddly repetitive), but why did they use the "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!" line? What does Jack Sparrow have to do with anything? And how does Rowsdower teleport? And why is King Arthur there at the end? It's so delightfully bizarre, much like The Final Sacrifice itself.