Watching the Watchmen

Lastnight I went to see the Watchmen with a few friends. It was a 7:10 showing, so it was a bunch of people who really wanted to see the movie, but didn't want to be up until 3:00am to do so. Face it, these days there isn't much I'm going to wait in line for. I think these people all agreed with me.

The important thing for you to know is that I've only read the book once. Yup, once; and, while I liked the book, it left me feeling kind of let down. I could readily see why this book was so culturally important, but it was also confusing and not well written. Come on, tell the truth, did you read absolutely every word of Rorschach's journal? This is, I think the biggest weakness of the film. It relies to heavily on the comic book for script. When in the middle of watching the film it forces you out of the moment when you think, wait he just said what? Other than that, my only complaint was with the 300 style slow motion. It was cool when the Comedian gets thrown out the window, but after that the director need to learn the idea of "judicious" use. Oh, and he could do away with some gratuitous violence. I won't ruin it for anyone, but there are things I don't need to see. It's why I can't bring myself to watch OZ.

Here's the deal. I liked the film. I actually might have liked a shorter, less faithful, to the book version, but I'm not a fan-girl. What I actually want to say, is not so much about the film as it is about myself and the world. Me first, of course. This is not a criticism of the film, just something I found weird. It was strange for me to realize this film was making the majority of my life into a period piece. Yeah. It was strange to see the hair and the ray-bans and everything be so 70's. What's wrong with that? Nothing, but I think the reason Watchmen was such an influencial book was that at it's heart it's timeless. The threat and peril of the story are set at a certain time, but that threat and peril could easily be recast with more contemporary figures.

Threat and peril. Let's talk about that. In the years since 1991, our villanous landscape has changed. Moscow and Havana are not the centers for terror they once were. Even given the period piece ambiance of the film, it was weird to the the soviets as we did. I'm not sure how this will play with younger audiences, maybe it's the reason they made the film seem like such a period piece instead of trying to set it in some nebulous contemporary space.

What I cannot quite articulate are the cultural possibilities. World opinon about both the US and Russia has changed drastically over the last 18 years. (That makes me feel old.) I think there is something significant about our current willingness to accept the Soviets as such a threat. Of all the things that separate me from my students I think the biggest one is the Cold War. Most of my students have no concept of what it meant to live in a world where the premise behind Red Dawn seemed far-fetched, but plausible. It's not something I can adequately explain to them.
The Watchmen is such a product of the Cold War that I wonder if it's us-them mentality can survive, even as a period piece. The fear and angst of the time are reflected in all of the characters. Can you really understand the Comedian, Rorschach, Ozimandius (whatever) if you don't understand the Cold War that created them? Or, is there something about these characters that surpasses their time and place?

A Beautiful Thing...

Most of the time I lament the state of my imagination. It's alive and kicking. It's just not very interesting. Really, I can imagine the hell out of anything I've seen or heard, embellishing it until it fits the state of my life. However, I've never been able to make something whole out of nothing. It's like I only got half of the creative gene. Anyway most of the time it gets me down, but every once in a while it satisfies my every need.

When I have my iPod with me and playing something other than a book on tape, I like to imagine it is the soundtrack to my life. Whatever song is playing either reminds me of something or puts me in another mood. I walk faster, taller, and stronger when I listen to Pearl Jam or Soul Coughing. My best writing is done to the Bach Cello Concertos played by Pablo Casals. You get the idea. I assume this is what everyone does with their iPod.

Sometimes a song will play that is actually from a soundtrack of either a television show or movie. I remember the scene, the moment, whatever happened at that time. When I really want to kick some ass, or I just need some good energy, I play "Super Bon Bon." Suddenly I am Frank Pembleton kick in the doors of strip clubs hunting down Steve Buscemi. By the time the song is over and/or I've made it to class I'm ready to face the energy-sucking life force of 22 19 year olds. Just after Christmas I purchased some new music and my current kick-ass song is "Girlfriend" by Matthew Sweet. I didn't ever have the album or anything, but I love the song. It makes me remember being 19 and living in Bellingham (the good parts anyway.)

The other song in heavy rotation is "Beautiful Way" by Beck. The H:LOTS folks used it a couple of times. The last time I remember was in the movie, just before Timmy blows up the entire world. Don't worry that wasn't a spoiler, but if you've seen the movie you know what I mean. When I walk down the hall listening to "ooooh, it's a beautiful way to break your heart" Tim and Frank walk with me. I'm invincible. It's pretty cool, even if I do borrow the characters from somewhere else. It helps me get through the long days in the prison of my cubicle.

Haunted Garage...

The story begins with my Mother-in-Law. She has a long history of finding things like fart machines and the Billy Bass funny. I think the best present I ever got her was a whoopy cushion.

About 2 years ago my MiL sent us the Santa Pig. It's a plush pig dressed like santa, AND when you pull it's tail it says, "Oink, oink, oink...Oink, Oink, Oink" to the tune of jingle bells. Needless to say it drove Yasser mad. So, every year for Christmas we bring out the pig for a few hours and let Yasser have at it. Just the sight of it puts Yasser into a frenzy. Over the years, the pig has gotten a little worse for ware. His Santa suit is loosing some of it's sparkle. You can't always get the music to start...or stop. In December I'll try to get some video of Yasser and Moshe finishing him off.

So, every once in a while, in the last two days, when we open the garage door the pig, tucked away in the box of Christmas decorations, will be oinking. It is just about the creepiest thing ever. It's not motion sensitive...you really have to pull on the tail to get it to Oink. Just now, at 9:45pm I was going to go out and get a soda, but I opened the door and there was Oinking. I shut the door, locked it, and made Bradley go out there.

I'm not messing with the Satan Pig.

Promotion

A good friend of mine runs this site. You should check it out. He's funny most of the time.

Record Breaking Heresy

I just want to see how many posts I can put up in one day. Plus, this way I can at least truthfully tell people I spent the day writing.
So, it's been three weeks. It's hardly enough time to tell if a show is going to make it or not, but it seems like it's been enough time to comment on Dollhouse.

Let me start by saying I like Joss Whedon's stuff. Like. Although I've rhapsodized about certain elements of Angel, I'm not a huge fan. I think other shows, like BSG, the Wire, and H:LOTS, have approached similar ideas differently and better. What?! You say it's not fair to compare the Whedonverse to such dramatic shows, but I think it is. At it's heart the Whedonverse takes some heavy topics, adds vampires or space, and a little comedic element to make it all palatable.

Dollhouse attempts to loose the less realistic factors of the Whedonverse and just give all out drama, which is where I think it goes wrong. The show actually needs to be darker. It needs a little of BSGs bleakness. The wise cracking characters in Dollhouse seem out of place with everyone and everything else. I'm willing to suspend belief. I don't need any explanations of the science, but in this case I need it to at least be serious. If other characters don't take their world seriously, why should I? A darker, bleaker world might also help me to feel more sympathetic to the "dolls" when they are no programmed. Right now the world they inhabit appears so plush and rosy that I am not as alarmed for them as I should be.

Here is the other issue. The show feels rushed. I know, I know I am supposedly a more sophisticated viewer and I can handle multiple plot lines; but, maybe I don't want to. It seems like there is a need to get too much of the mystery out there too soon. I know Whedon's had problems with Fox before (Firefly), but he seems driven to get all the mystery out there right now. I can't quite keep up. In fact, I need to go back to the third episode because I am still not sure how Tamoh Penikett's character got shot.

In short, I like the show, but I think it needed to be on SciFi or HBO or some other channel where it could have been darker and less rushed.

I wish The Thing didn't try to show you the monster.

Because I'm a Sexist Feminist....

It's true. A student wrote that on an official evaluation. Luckily I wasn't teaching a course in Feminist Theory, because then I would have really failed.

As I sat in bed watching Juno, I was still bothered by Bleeker's lack of involvement in the whole situation. Then the DH came home laid down on the bed and said of Jason Bateman. "He's really gross in this movie." I said, "Yes he is" before I realized we were commenting on two completely different aspects of the film.

The DH thinks Mark is gross for hitting on Juno and, possibly, for abandoning his wife. We agree about that. However, as I listened to Vanessa tell Mark about his "stupid" shirt, I realized this was another aspect of Mark that was gross. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks he still might end up Kurt Cobain - before the suicide; and/or they are upset because they thought they'd die before they were 27 - either way, he is tied to his rock star fantasies.

The shirt is stupid, not because Vanessa doesn't like the band, but because it demonstrates the way Mark is fixated on his past. In the film it is easy to see how Vanessa is fixated and demaning. The house is a shrine to it. It's easy not to see,until it is too late, how tenaciously Mark is clinging to something else. I just want to point out that Vanessa's critique of Mark is a valid one. It's as valid as the critique the film makes of Vanessa; and, it's every bit as "gross" as Mark trying to kiss Juno. However, I think there are a lot of men and women who don't sympathize with Vanessa's position. Heck, the film doesn't even sympathize with her. Just think for a minute of what you remember of Vanessa. It makes fun of her. It is a comedy after all.

There is no one perfect way to "grow - up." In many ways Vanessa is just as wrong as Mark, but by portraying Mark as this cool guy the film is sympathetic to him. It lulls us into forgetting that in reality we should all be able to grow and change.

Senator...love the suit...

Yesterday I spent some time in a tube. Not THE tube. A tube. It was MRI day. It wasn't that bad when I felt better and knew what was going on. They put this cage over my head that made me feel a little like Hannibal Lecture. They had to do one test over because I moved to much. But, I am telling you I didn't move AT ALL. From then on they told me not to even swallow. Do they not realize the one effect I can say I have from the stroke is an excess of spit. Really. All day long it's like someone stuck a big juicy steak in front of me. I'm afraid I'll drool on myself without noticing. So, you try it. Don't swallow for 6 minutes. I think they'll call me later with the test results. Frankly, I was so glad to be out of the noisy tube that I forgot to ask. Dumb. I know. Eh.

On a better note...
I get to watch the new BSG today! Whoo Hoo! Other obligations kept me from watching last night. Actually a sleeping pill and the best of all sedative (The Empire Stikes Back) kept me from watching last night. Anyway everyone is coming over today to watch, which is good because now we can fast forward through commercials! It is, however, also bad because now I have to clean the house.

About The Empire Strikes Back, is there anyone else who cannot watch this movie without falling asleep before they make it off the ice planet? Sleeping pill or not, all I have to do is put the dvd in and I am out. It's like they've secretly embed opioides in it.

Old Stuff...

This is old stuff, which a lot of you can avoid. I don't think I've posted it here before, but Dr. Heidi made me think of it and I wanted to share.

I believe in Angel.
No, I am not some raving Joss Whedon fan who wishes she was a slayer and could (with her cadre of super cool friends) save the world and date sexy vampires. I didn't start watching until late in the game, and I don't own any seasons on dvd. Okay, so I do own Firefly, but that is a different essay.
Still, I believe in Angel. Rather, I should say I believe that we can all learn a little something from the vampire with soul. In "Deep Down," the opening episode to season four, Angel returns from being trapped in a coffin underwater for three months to confront his son, Connor, who put him there. Without getting too far into their complex story, their relationship is a little dysfunctional because Connor was raised to hate and destroy all vampires, especially Angel. Hence, the whole putting him in a coffin thing.

Angel explains to Connor what he figured out at the bottom of the ocean.
"I did get the time to think. About us. About the world. Nothing in this world is the way it ought to be. It's harsh. And cruel. But thats why there's us. Champions. It doesn't matter where we come from. What we've done or suffered or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world was as it should be. To show it what it can be."

This is it, this is what makes me believe in Angel. "We live as though the world was as it should be. To show it what it can be." It's simple. But, say it out loud, give the appropriate pause for that period, and listen to how it sounds. It carries magic.
Not the magic that lets us dream of champions, believe that vampires can have souls, and find answers to life's questions in a television show, it's a deeper magic. There is hope in that passage, a hope I sometimes forget about, because there is another truth in that passage.

"Nothing in this world is the way it ought to be. It's harsh. And cruel." It is easy, especially today, to only see what is wrong with the world. From natural disasters to political outrages, from social injustice to individual assaults we are inundated by all the things that are wrong (and those don't cover the struggles we face in our personal lives). The occasional human interest story does nothing to ameliorate the despair that can set in when it seems as if nothing ever changes.

Josh Whedon is right. We need champions. If only to give us hope. Not the hope that they will save the day, the hope that we can save it ourselves. I know it sounds naive and starry-eyed, but what if we could believe in Angel. What if we could believe that if we show the world what it is capable of, the world will change? What if we believed in the magic of hope?
I could hardly be called a champion, but isn't that the point. Like Angel said, it doesn't matter if we make a difference, it's about how we live. There are sillier things than believing in vampires. So, I'll believe in Angel. "We live as though the world was as it should be. To show it what it can be."

Sunday Pulp

About a month ago, I was seriously ready for this semester to start. Now, it's way too soon. I don't start teaching until Wednesday. The last time I checked only 7 students registered for my class.

A friend almost lost his class and I kind of wish they would just take mine. Don't get me wrong, I'm ready to teach. It's makes me a little nervous right now. When my friend almost lost his class they were going to make him work the time equivalent in the WC. I volunteered to switch places. (He really needs to teach this semester for research.) Now, I think it would have been a nice way to ease back into things if I only worked in the WC this semester. It would fit because I am an intern in the WC training class. Instead, I get to teach my own class, intern, and maybe work in the WC. We're going to talk about it next week.
It's certainly not that WC work is easier. I think it is harder than teaching and I don't feel like I've ever been stellar at it. One to one communication is just easier for me. I wish we would have thought of a WC position earlier.

On a completely different note...as you may have noticed I've had a lot of time for TV these days. Because the 5pm-8pm time slot is so abysmal, I started watching NCIS. It's actually not a bad show, in spite of the fact that all the characters are a specific type. Ted Bundy...I mean Mark Harmon is the surly father figure who always goes with his gut. Abby (Pauley Perette) is the crazy goth-on-the-outside, but incredibly perky brilliant scientist. McGee is the newbie...sorry, proby (probationary). He's math whiz, geek kind of doughy faced, but thoughtful and tries to be manly. DiNozzo is the young-male lead, he's a womanizer with the heart of gold complete with the Italian name. He's always impugning McGee's masculinity. David McCallum returns to television as the eccentric, loquacious, m.e. who likes to talk to the bodies. You see this show is great, not because of the writing or acting, but because there is nothing to challenge the viewer.

All of that would be fine. It helps to keep your mind on plot, which is usually topical and often takes a different approach to topics than you might think. Here it comes...wait for it, wait for it...HOWEVER, this show although it does have some strong women characters, completely reinforces some pretty typcial gender roles - particularly when it DiNozzo tries to woo a character. In short the character is the guy at the bar that you would end up throwing a drink on, but on the show it's supposed to be charming and endearing. I started paying attention and really thinking about this when I saw an episode set in a state park. I know therre are many, but this one is where they initially think the guy was mauled by a bear. One of the park rangers is really pretty, passionately anti-hunting, and loves her job. Of course, DiNozzo immediately tries to hit on her. She holds out for a while, but can't resist the charm. It's all going swimmingly. They're supposed to have a date, but then disaster strikes. As she sits on his dek, the ranger starts to rearrange her long hair. She lifts up her arms and..."Oh Noes!!!" She doesn't shave. DiNozzo actually gags, but hangs in there until she puts her leg up on a file cabinet and he can see her legs are nice and hairy too. He makes up some lame excuse to get out of the date and the park ranger looks confused.

Seriously. Do I need to even spell out the problem with the "Ewww...she's hairy" moment?
Don't worry, I know you can do that one on your own. I've got different fish to fry.

Let's talk about Ziva David, she is the third member of Gibbs' team. She's supposed to be a former Moussad agent, who now works for us. She's secretly in love with DiNozzo and she shaves. A position she earned by killing her half-brother. Eh. I warned you all about the writing. Cote de Pablo does a fine job. It's the character I have issues with. From what I've noticed there are not any amazingly anti-arab episodes, but the mere presence of her character is a comment on US/Israeli/Palesitinian relations. When she tosses off lines like, "I've seen a 12 yr. old suicide bomber." There's no doubt of whom she is referring. The show is so contemporary and topical, but because they have this character they avoid dealing with the US/Israeli relationship, while tacitly being pro-Israeli. It's a little weird.

That's probably enough analysis of a show that doesn't warrant it.

First Impressions

While I cannot post a picture of myself, enough of you know what I look like to find this amusing. In fact, many of you have heard the story. If you have heard it...just ignore this post.

This is a true story from sometime this summer. I think it was around August. All I really remember is that it was warm.
For some reason, around 10 at night I had to stop by the Walgreen's. Now, I usually try to avoid this particular branch because a former student works there. I think I needed something so I stopped on the way to pick the DH up from work. The point isn't my shopping in the evening it's what happened afterwards.

I got whatever it was I needed and left the store. I drive an old black toyota avalon with out of state plates. It's one of the first series of Avalons. I inherited the car from my mother in law, so there isn't anything much more suburban unless it's a mini-van. I may look young, especially at night. I could probably pass for 25.

So, as I was pulling out of the parking lot looking all suburban and innocent a young, woman about 6-8 mos pregnant stopped me. Her truck had out of state plates, so I figured she was going to ask me for directions. She did, kind of...

"Excuse me, Miss." (One of the good things about southern living is politeness.)

"Yes." I said as I stuck my head out the window.

"There was a store down the street that used to sell...um..." She trailed off. Not wanting to say it.

"Oh! Yeah, it just moved across the street. You can see it right over there." I pointed.

"Thank you." She said.

I tried to find a website to link to, but they don't seem to have one. Priscilla McCall's is an Adult store. Why in the world this girl looked at me and thought I'd know where the closest sex store was, I have no idea. But I did know exactly where it was, although I haven't visited the new location.

It's a better story if you know me. Just walking down the street, I don't exactly look like someone who owns toys or porn of any sort. So, it's funny. Trust me.

Boobs

Sitting on the couch bored out of my mind, which is how I spend most nights (the CP can verify that), I knew I wanted to write a post, but didn't have anything to write about. That's when I took the time to venture over and read the roast of Tanis.

For anyone who's read her blog for a while, it is quite funny. Her posts are really long. I put down the DH's computer and got in the shower. In the shower it hit me. I need to post about boobs. What else do I have?

Although I read a few mommy blogs, I am not, and possible never will be, a mother. I disowned my red-neck heritage when I finally really left home at 23.

But, boobs? Boobs I have in the bag. I may not have fancy nipple rings, but I think my left breast could encompass all of Tanis' rack. In fact I think boobs are just what this blog needs.

Why should I write about my boobs? Well, first I think it will get me some creepy google action. Secondly, I've had them all of my life. In fact, they officially outgrew my mother's when I was 12. Thirdly, while I don't have hardware, I'm sure there are not a lot of people out there who can play tetris in their clevage.

For some reason, the electrodes they put on my chest left a mark. It's like I went to the tanning bed with them on. The result seems to be permanent. At least they haven't faded since the hospital. I didn't notice them at first, but now they are all I can see. Did I mention that I don't ever remember having electrodes on?

They are not even semetrical. There's two on one side and just one on the other. It woudln't matter except I don't own a turtle neck. In fact most of my shirts are designed to show off the clevage. Every time I look in a mirror, there they are just staring at me. They're not even full squares, but a square with in a square.

The DH think I just need to put a sticker on the center and go to the tanning bed. They do sell stickers there, but they are all shaped like the playboy bunny. So, I guess until I can get some sun this summer, I'll be humming the Tetris song.