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Showing posts with label stream of consciousness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stream of consciousness. Show all posts

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Idiosyncratic

I am eccentric.

(readers clutch their pearls and gasp, "No!")

Yes, it's true.  I have several habits and trains of thought that range from the amusingly odd to straight-up bananas.  So I decided to spend some of my me time on this, our Christmas Eve Day of 2011, illustrating some of these quirks in hopes that you will find them amusing.  Because that's the ultimate way to evade the laughing-with-or-at-you quandary: make yourself the joke before anyone else has a chance to!

1. My beloved space heater
I have written of my unnatural and abiding love for our space heater before.  But I don't think I made it quite clear how obsessively attached I am.  Like all my quirks, I try to suppress it at first.  When Space Heater time comes, at first, I try to be calm about the space heater.
I do whatever I'm doing and try to maintain a respectable distance from the heater.  "Leaving room for Jesus," so to speak.  But then the warmth starts to speak to me...
And before I know it, I'm practically smothering the space heater, soaking up all that coil-heated air for myself.

2. Sleep aid - soothing television

A lot of people use television to help lull themselves to sleep.  If it's a typical night and I just need to watch some TV to quiet my mind and relax, I'll just flip on a good show and enjoy.  But on nights when the slumber is evasive, I can't use just any old TV show because it will only give my brain something to focus on while keeping me awake (rather than what it does when I can't sleep and don't have the TV on: go to dark and scary places like "What if a tractor-trailer full of Karo syrup is driving in front of me and goes out of control and flips over on top of me?")  So for those nights, I find the only effective sedative is Jewelry Television.
The commentary is usually grating, so I'll turn the volume way down and just watch the pretty gems and jewelry items spin around on that turntable and sparkle under all the lights.  Sometimes something vaguely exciting happens, like when one of the presenters is trying to get a loose gem to lay right and can't seem to pick it up with the special gemstone tweezers.  But mostly, it's just a parade of glittery avarice and before I know it, I'm to the point of sleepiness where the TV being on is annoying and I'm ready to sleep.

There is one other channel that works too, but it's one of those special channels that you have to have the more expensive TV package to get on your TV or a paid subscription to get online (that may have changed, but I don't feel like going and looking right now.)  But our TV company gives free previews of channels that are normally unavailable on a monthly basis and every now and then, this one comes up for a free preview: BabyFirst TV.  The nighttime programming is intended to help infants go to sleep, so it's a constant run of soothing music and slowly moving imagery.  About once an hour, they may show something that tempts the little babies to think:
...but mostly, it's just public-domain classical pieces and round computer-animated animals floating around on the screen.  Thank goodness we had a free preview of this while I was student teaching, or I might never have slept for that entire semester.

3. Dancing in the dark (not to be confused with various songs to that effect)
I have always enjoyed music and have also always had a vivid and active imagination.  So I write things, I draw things, I play things on the piano, and suchlike, but sometimes that is simply not enough.  Sometimes, I need to go and dance around and pace and actually see things in my mind's eye, or act things out.  As a child, I would just grab whichever portable music device I had at the time and do this anywhere, anytime.  The backyard dog pen that we didn't use, a random bedroom, a hallway...as long as I had some space, I was cool.  I did notice that darkness made it easier to visualize what I was thinking about, but I didn't need it, per se.  Then I got to my early teens and my Self-Consciousness lobe sprouted, somewhat hurried along by an instance of my mother opening my door to see what I was doing and my not noticing her until after 3 minutes of wild gesticulating and mouthing random words, only to turn around and find her doubled over in laughter.  And as I got even older, it became harder and harder to take myself out of the real world and into my pretend one.  College was really hard, because I would start to try to put myself in a time and place and couldn't get anywhere because there was all this yellow light shining through the window from all the streetlights, as if to say, "You're not really there.  You're here.  Being weird."  But I couldn't just up and stop - it's part of my brain's creative process.  It's how my brain metabolizes ideas.  So now, when I need some idea-moving creative time, I have to make sure my space is really and truly dark at all times.  First of all, so I can really take myself out of reality and let my mind wander freely.  And also so I know immediately when someone is trying to crash my party.

  It's nearly Pavlovian, the way I freeze when that shaft of light comes through the room when the door is opened...Andrew, ever the problem solver, has taken to blinking a light at the door rather than opening it, so that I'm less startled.  We are nothing if not compatible.

4. My battle with the grocery store conveyor belt
You know that little food treadmill that you load your groceries onto so the cashier can ring them up?  If I take too much time in between loading groceries onto it, I end up with a blank space.  Which is inefficient and also super annoying.

5. The power struggle of fitted sheets
Whenever it's time to put sheets on the bed, I want to either do it myself or not do it at all.  Because I hate the Fitted Sheet exchange that seems to happen whenever I put bedsheets on with someone:


Sunday, October 2, 2011

I Am The Fringe

Editor's note: NOT A MOVIE ENTRY, although it will mention a media conglomerate most heavily associated with films.

Yep, it's true.  I am in league with those people who believe that Dark Side of the Moon lines up with The Wizard of Oz if you start the record at the third MGM lion roar or whatever.  (I've never tried it, but I'm sure it would be fascinating if I could stand to listen to Pink Floyd for longer than 20 seconds.)
Which I'm pretty sure is not news to you guys, but it has come to my attention recently because I was listening to the song "Tragic Kingdom" by No Doubt the other morning and had a ZOMGEPIPHANY about it.  The CD it comes from, also called Tragic Kingdom, was one of the first CDs I ever owned.  When I was 12, it rotated through my CD player in between SpiceWorld and the soundtrack to Hercules.  And I always used to think that the song "Tragic Kingdom" was just a fancy theatrical venture on an album that is otherwise Gwen Stefani's various post-breakup hate letters to her ex.  And I suppose, if you were coming into it from a heavily metaphorical perspective, "Tragic Kingdom" could be read as a metaphor for the end of their relationship.  I didn't ever think this, though; I just thought it was a big fanciful story about a ruined medieval kingdom.

Before I delve into my epiphany, allow me to post the song and the lyrics for your consideration:

Once was a magical place
Over time it was lost
Price increased the cost
Now the fortune of the kingdom
Is locked up in its dungeon vaults
The castle floor lies in traps
With coiled wires set back
Decoyed by old cheese
Now the drawbridge has been lifted
As the millions
They drop to their knees
They pay homage to a king
Whose dreams are buried
In their minds
His tears are frozen stiff
Icicles drip from his eyes

The cold wind blows as it snows
On those who fight to get in
On heads that are small
Disillusioned as they enter
They're unaware what's
Behind castle walls
But now it's written in stone
The king has been overthrown
By jesterly fools
And the power of the people
Shall come to believe they do rule

They pay homage to a king
Whose dreams are buried
In their minds
His tears are frozen stiff
Icicles drip from his eyes
Welcome to the tragic kingdom
Cornfields of popcorn
Have yet to spring open

Have they lost their heads
Or are they just all blind mice
We've heard all their stories
One too many times
Hypnotized by fireflies
They glow in the dark
Midgets that disguise themselves
As tiny little dwarfs
The parade that's electrical
It serves no real purpose
Just takes up a lot of juice
Just to impress us

They pay homage to a king
Whose dreams are buried
In their minds
His tears are frozen stiff
Icicles drip from his eyes

Oh, they drip from his eyes
Into the night
They drip from his eyes

Welcome to the tragic kingdom
Cornfields of popcorn
Have yet to spring open

So that's the song.  (Bugs me that Gwen doesn't know how to pronounce "homage.")  And I have to confess - I had my little epiphany about it, then went online and realized that the epiphany wasn't entirely mine and wasn't entirely secret, although Professor Wikipedia does not dig as deeply into it as I did because, as I may have mentioned, I am the fringe.

Yep, finally realized after, oh, 13 years of listening to the song, that "Tragic Kingdom" rhymes with "Magic Kingdom."  As in Disney.  And Disneyland is in Anaheim, where No Doubt was born and bred.  As the Wikipedia link I provided shows, that observation is not my crazy imagination reaching - that was an intentional pun by the band.  The rest of my observations, however....

Y'all, I want you to realize that I feel appropriately ashamed that I initiated several mental synapses listening to the lyrics and realizing all the different ways that they could be taken as Disney references.  But of course, my shame over being a lunatic will not prevent me from re-copying the lyrics and pointing out all those places to you!  Because it's my blog and I do what I want!  So you'll see the lyrics in italics, and my super profound and not-at-all-awkwardly-crazy thoughts will appear in bold.



Once was a magical place
Over time it was lost
Price increased the cost

Commentary on the growing commercialism/merchandising hype that took hold not only of Disney, but of all the big movie machines?  I think so!
Now the fortune of the kingdom
Is locked up in its dungeon vaults

Disney vault.  Where they hide the really popular and well-made Disney films until they need to make more money or until a new format gets released.  *coughLIONKINGIN3Dcough*
The castle floor lies in traps
With coiled wires set back
Decoyed by old cheese

I always thought this line was weird, and still do, unless cheese = mouse.  Hmm.
Now the drawbridge has been lifted
As the millions
They drop to their knees
They pay homage to a king
Whose dreams are buried
In their minds

The great and powerful aspirations of WALT hang heavy over us all.
His tears are frozen stiff
Icicles drip from his eyes.

Possible reference to the urban legend that Walt was cryogenically frozen when he died.  (In reality, quite the opposite - he was cremated.)
The cold wind blows as it snows
On those who fight to get in
On heads that are small
Disillusioned as they enter
They're unaware what's
Behind castle walls

Hm.  Don Bluth saw what was behind castle walls and got disillusioned.  Just saying.
But now it's written in stone
The king has been overthrown
By jesterly fools

Comment on the failure of post-Walt head honchos to ignite the same magic and innovation he did?  Possibly.
And the power of the people
Shall come to believe they do rule

[snipped because of repeated lyrics]
Welcome to the tragic kingdom
Cornfields of popcorn

Popcorn = theme parks and movies.  HMMMM.
Have yet to spring open

Have they lost their heads
Or are they just all blind mice

MICE
We've heard all the stories
One too many times

Disney's standard formula, especially in the beginning: take existing stories, like novels and fairy tales (especially those in the public domain) and adapt for film.
Hypnotized by fireflies
They glow in the dark
How much Disney magic is made to look like little fireflies?  Think of Tinkerbell's magic, the Fantasia fairies, the Fairy Godmother's magic in Cinderella...
Midgets that disguise themselves
As tiny little dwarfs

Dwarfs.  Yeah.  First feature-length animated film the House of Mouse ever made.
The parade that's electrical
It serves no real purpose
Just takes up a lot of juice
Just to impress us

Main Street Electrical Parade.  Obvy.
[remainder snipped because of repeated lyrics]

So these were the very important and relevant thoughts my brain was producing when I was doing my dance-workout and trying not to be freaked out about my upcoming concert.  Left with a dose of nervousness-adrenaline and nothing to focus it on, my mind goes to some pretty interesting places.  Of course, as regular readers will note, my mind goes to interesting places whether I am guiding it or not.  But it's entertaining, right? 

Monday, July 25, 2011

Four. Nights. Now.

Insomnia, insomnia...
Oh what with me is wrong-nia?
For four nights now I nearly weep
and beg of thee to let me sleep!
I thought Wednesday was thy inception,
with migraine naps that day's direction,
but I barely doze four days and nights,
sleep meds and all - now that ain't right.
So now I sit and type away
and wait for night to turn to day.
You know it's bad when neither couch
nor space heater can knock me out.
I guess my mind has up and seized
some vague ignored anxieties,
since day by day I'm inching near
to bigger things in my career.
I try to write about my nerves,
but find they won't submit to words.
This last resort is truly worst -
who writes a blog post all in verse?!?
Reckon I'll stay here a while
and surf for things that make me smile,
then crawl in bed around, say, three
and hope tomorrow's good to me.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Y'guys

I know I am the worst blogger on The Planet.  I've been busy these days.  There are lots of little nuggets in my brain to talk about, such as:

1. Folks who refer to my male colleagues as "sir" and me as "honey" and only shake the hands of my male colleagues but think it's cool to put a hand on my shoulder.

2. Clothing that looks totally legit on some women, but indecent on me.  Girls: you know what I mean.  UNFAIR.

3. Punditry and the rash of ideological morons (or sellouts to sensationalism) who feel the urge to reduce every situation or issue down to a false cartoonish good people - bad people dichotomy and ignore the vast majority of responses and needs (which have the added characteristic of actually existing in real life) in between.

4. Coffee, you guys.  COFFEE.

5. Southern Social Exercises: What We Say and What We Mean.

6. Public personalities and the blurring line between what you produce being a commodity and your person/existence being a commodity.

7. Reclaiming My Face: Actively Trying To Leave The House Sans Makeup And Not Care

These may or may not be expanded in some way.  We'll see.  In the meantime, enjoy the new widget to the right of this here text that shows you what all I've shared on Google Buzz!

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Much Ado about The Mundane

This post is inspired by an email Dad sent me comparing stereotypical male and female showering habits.  The first step-by-step was my reply to the email.

The Morning Shower
1. Walk to bathroom in pajamas, grumbling incoherently because there is NO WAY that it is 6:00 a.m. already, for the love of Pete...
2. Turn on bathroom light and give a start as the brightness assaults your eyes
3. Turn hot water knob all the way on
4. Spend the 5 minutes it takes the water to actually become hot removing pajamas and spit-shining the smeared mascara off your face
5. Check water temperature, scald hand, turn cold knob ever-so-slightly
6. Step into now-tepid shower, fuss with cold knob further
7. Squeeze shampoo into hand, begin washing hair, then curse the world because you accidentally got the conditioner instead and will now spend the day looking as though you put Vitalis in your hair
8. Rinse conditioner out of hair, get shampoo bottle, stare at it to make sure it is actually the shampoo bottle, then wash hair
9. Get sponge, ignore the fact that the spot where the sponge was sitting is slightly moldy, lather up and wash
10. Begin freaking out because hot water is beginning to wane
11. Wash face in expensive acne-preventative soap that seems to be prejudiced against your chin
12. Struggle to turn water off because you are now so cold that your joints are locking up
13. Stagger quietly to laundry room to find clothes, trying not to wake your husband, who will be asleep until you leave at 7:00.

The Morning Commute - School Day Edition
Most of my readers know this, but in case a stranger stumbles across: I teach at a private school three mornings a week and the school is 30 minutes away, whereas my retail job is only 10.
1. Laden with purse, heavy teaching supplies bag and coffee thermos, stumble out front door, not bothering to lock deadbolt because you figure that Husband can protect himself against assailants effectively
2. Start car, find spot in passenger seat to set bag and purse and attempt to clear a cupholder for your coffee
3. Spend first five minutes of commute flipping among morning shows trying to catch your favorite segments (The Pastors on Steve Harvey, Wow Wednesday on Cadillac and Dallas, Pretty Much Everything on The Burt Show)
4. (Winter) Watch car temperature gauge to see when you can turn the heat on.  (Summer)  Roll down window slightly, rejoice in sunshine
5. Think about past awkward situation/impending future awkward situation/potential future awkward situation/completely impossible future awkward situation/moment when you meet your celebrity crush
6. Begin mentally rehearsing what you'll do and say (or what you should have done and said) in whichever of the aforementioned situations you are thinking about
7. Gradually forget that you are in the car and thus visible and begin speaking aloud to the Imaginary Situation
8. Begin making exaggerated facial expressions and hand gestures with the hand that is not steering the car
9. Check eye makeup in mirror and catch quizzical expression from neighboring driver in your peripheral vision and be jarringly reminded that other people can see you talking
10. Pick up phone and pretend to be saying goodbye and hanging up from a speakerphone call
11. Remember that show on MTV that put hidden cameras in rental cars to catch people singing, wonder if there is a hidden camera in your car, begin freaking out
12. Turn on your CD player and begin harmonizing with Kristin Chenoweth to redeem yourself to the creepers watching your car's hidden camera feed
13. Arrive at school

Yoga Workout (Non-School Days)
1. (Night before) Assemble mat, blocks and strap and clean room to help foster thoughts that you are a Zen Flower, strong and beautiful and capable of anything
2. (Morning of) Have no such thoughts; lament the fact that you are up at 6 on a day that you don't have to be at work until 10
3. Boot up laptop and click the bookmark for your yoga workout.  (Yes, that is BYUTV, as in Brigham Young University TV, chosen because I know it will approach the yoga from a health standpoint and eschew its original religious meaning - don't have a problem with the Eastern religions, they just aren't personally relevant to me, nor are they relevant to Mormons)
4. Make half-hearted attempts at stretching while Deni Preston talks about proper yoga technique, which you will probably botch because Deni Preston is not there with you personally to check
5. Perform Sun Salutations.  Become self-conscious when you hear the THUD that occurs when you descend to the floor to perform Downward Dog
6. Become self-conscious when you start feeling tired 5 minutes into the workout
7. Become self-conscious when you realize that the top part of the window to your workout room is uncovered and a hypothetical creeper in your front yard tree could see you
8. Fall out of Triangles
9. Fall out of Prayer Twist
10. Hold breath to stop falling out of poses.  Hear Deni remind you to breathe.  Yell to Deni that "BREATHING MAKES IT HARDER!!!"
11. Rejoice when cool down set begins
12. Start to doze off in Corpse Pose, then realize that it's past 7 and begin the Morning Math:
   12.1. "If I shower now, there will be enough time for the hot water to recover for Andrew's shower.  But I'm tired."
   12.2. "If I wait until after Andrew's shower, I won't be able to shower until 8, which means I won't have enough time to do full makeup and a good hairstyle.  How badly do I want to look pretty?"
   12.3. "How gross am I?  Can I get away without showering at all?"
13.  Resign, grudgingly rise and stumble to shower

Entering Participation Grades
1. (Day 10 of Semester) Remember that you need to post Participation Grades as assignments and start entering them.  Make mental note to do so later
2. (Day 30 of Semester) Remember that you need to post Participation Grades as assignments and start entering them.  Make mental note to do so later
3. (Day 60 of Semester) Remember that you need to post Participation Grades as assignments and start entering them.  Make mental note to do so later
4. (Beginning of Finals Week) Remember that you need to post Participation Grades as assignments and start entering them.  Make mental note that you have only a week left to do so
5. (Night before deadline) Post Participation Grades as assignments and give out straight 100s, thanking the Lord that you only have three students and that they all have exemplary behavior

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

The Unsleeping

It is 1:04 AM.

I tried to go to bed at 10.  It didn't happen.  First, I was stricken with a physical malady which does not lend itself to polite description.  Suffice to say that it prevents sleep pretty effectively.  Once that subsided, my brain just wouldn't shut up.  So many thoughts and feelings racing around - I got a brief respite when a dear friend shared some news, but soon after that, I was back to Really Not Sleeping Ever.


I have much to do this week.  And there have been areas of invidiousness in my life that disgust me and I have been trying to remedy this by just not really ever thinking about them.

Yeah, that doesn't work.  So I think about them at times like this, when I have a body that won't lie comfortably, a brain that won't quiet down and a heart that believes that midnight is a fine time to meet one's unacceptable shortcomings head-on in an hours-long slideshow featuring all the times in recent days when I have strayed from the path of righteousness and how I need to stop that junk right now.

I had a friend back in college who was an expert at staying up.  If I try to pull an all-nighter, I'll be sleeping by 11 AM, regardless of where I am.  Good thing I don't have to be anywhere at 11 AM tomorrow!  But for her, all-nighters were child's play.  She would stay awake for days when there were things that needed doing.  And I'm not referring to "not sleeping" the way most of us use that phrase, in which we might actually snatch little 30-minute naps or take TV breaks.  Not only did she not sleep in any sense of the word, she worked, organized, studied and basically produced whole worlds as the rest of us slackers maintained more typical circadian rhythms.  She wasn't completely superhuman, of course; after too many rounds of staying up for 5 days and sleeping at night for 2, she would crash.  It didn't happen often and she usually tried to space out the sessions of marathon wakefulness as a preventative measure, but I remember at least two occasions when she finally hit the wall and required something close to nursing for about a week before she could function again. 

While it is really not wise for me to push myself into a week-long crash, I can't help but oddly admire her dedication.  The closest I ever came to her obsessive scheduling happened during my senior year.  Those seeking education degrees, even education minors like we music ed. types, have to turn in a portfolio with this and that project and assignment.  We got a list with the required items and the courses in which we could expect to complete those items, so that we would know to be looking for them, to polish them well, and to save them.  Unfortunately, there was a little bit of a disconnect - our group got this list late, and we discovered that many of the assignments and projects on this list were never actually assigned in our coursework.  So in the midst of preparing Senior Recitals, gearing up to student teach, and cramming in those last few classes, we suddenly had semesters of work to do in a few weeks.  Finally, it came down to the week before the deadline and I still had quite a few assignments to invent.  So I stocked up on Rockstars and buckled down, but definitely not to any real extreme - Because I had to get up early to finish observation (the deadline for which fell at the same time) and did not wish to fall asleep at the wheel and crash my car, I determined that no matter what, I would stop working at 3:00 AM so that I could get up at 6:00 AM.  So Monday night through Thursday night, I slept only 3 hours each night.  I remember getting the big check mark on my portfolio assignments and my observation hours and then I remember nothing.

The only time I ever pulled a genuine all-nighter was during a very special week at my college that I can't go into detail about.  But it warranted working all night long, with a break at 4:30 AM for a trip to the Waffle House to eat and coffee up.  We asked our friend who Stays Up Like A Champion how she does it and she gave us the following advice:
"Don't think about it.  The first time you look outside this morning and see light in the sky, tell yourself that you are just waking up.  This is a normal day."

I tried it.  Still fell asleep in Form and Orchestration class.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

The Venture Brothers - My Crazy Fandom

Following is an overview of the Adult Swim cartoon The Venture Brothers and, I think, compelling evidence as to why you, Friend of Mine, would very much enjoy it. 
Assuming, of course, that you are a qualified member of the mature audience for whom Adult Swim programming is intended - generally, 14 and up is the recommended age group.  Blah blah disclaimer blah blah bleeped cussing and grown-up themes blah not a great idea for kids, ok?

The Venture Brothers is part homage, part parody, hearkening back to the cartoon heroes of earlier days, especially those of Hanna-Barbera fame.  It tells the story of the "next generation" of good guys and bad guys and the spectacular failure of both to live up to the excellence of their predecessors.

First of all, like much of Adult Swim's lineup, the cartoon operates on multiple levels.  There's the superficiality of impossibly strong men, impossibly shaped women, big fights with big weapons.
But the dialogue.
The dialogue.
Ye who love pop culture references, prepare to drown.  They are numerous and snappy and you pretty much have to watch multiple times to catch them all.  It's the type of quick verbal humor that plays on collective cultural knowledge subtly - the kind that almost always prompts a delayed reaction, as you find yourself finally giggling over a joke about two jokes later in the conversation.  And when it isn't giving you pause when you hear Brock referred to as "Agent Topanga Lawrence," it pleases the ear with peculiar lines that are funny just for their weirdness.
"I like the cut of his jib."
"I like the cut of his hair."
Cardholder said one, Doe said the other...not really sure which is which.

And the characters!  The awesome juxtaposition of old-style pro- and antagonists with a more corporatized, bureaucratic present-day is BRILLIANT.  Marvel as I describe to you...

1. The Guild of Calamitous Intent
Often referred to simply as "The Guild," this is the largest and most prominent organization for villains within the Ventureverse.  Other such organizations exist - the Canada-based Peril Partnership is mentioned and The Revenge Society is founded by a Guild excommunicant - but the Guild is the forerunner in organized villainy, featuring a legislative/judicial body called the Council of 13 and headed by the Sovereign.  And like any entity that big, the Guild is awash in rules, forms, treaties and general legalism.  "Arching," a verb taken from the "archenemy" noun, is a fully regulated job.  Villains are assigned protagonists to arch and, while they attempt to partake in classic activities such as destroying the protagonist's home with lasers or killing the protagonist by slowly dipping him/her into a large cauldron of lava, there are limits to their abilities.  Case in point: Dr. Venture being able to stop his enemy, The Monarch, in mid-arch because of a doctor's appointment.  Basically, the overriding rules and regulations have made archvillainy a non-threatening, mundane job much like any other except that it involves thematic dress and accommodations.  For protags like Dr. Venture, the presence of an archvillain holds no fear or terror, but rather annoyance.

2. The Office of Secret Intelligence
When Dr. Venture's recently-freed twin, Jonas Jr., inquires with the Guild as to whom protects the "good guys," Watch and Ward condescendingly point him to the OSI.  Back in the day, the OSI searched for evidence of the Guild when it acted more in its intended vein: as a genuinely dangerous, secret band of vengeful aggressors.  Now, with so many treaties between the two and so much common knowledge and, in some cases, common members, the two organizations bluster at one another while committing few acts of...well, action!  The OSI, like the Guild, has become too big and too legalistic to be truly effective at much, although the true rough riders like Gen. Treister occasionally bust some heads and protect some justice.

Those are the big guys, supposedly pitted against each other.  Neither is nimble enough to cause any real problems, in the case of the former, or solve any real problems, in the case of the latter.  The real danger and intrigue come from defectors of both organizations (like "Revenge," whose name changes rival PuffPDaddyDiddyDirtyMoneyWhatever, and Col. Gathers) who tire of the sluggishness of the big names and strike out on their own.

And of course, there's the concept of the shifting or split identity.  Which, y'all know, fascinates me.
Yes ma'am I DID just link to my own blog, I am that narcissistic.
So many people in this show go through different stages, names, missions or pursue a life that diverges significantly from their strengths.

Behold the changes...

Sheila, the student --> Lady Au Pair, the beginner Guild villain --> Queen Etherea, Phantom Limb's second-in-command and girlfriend --> Dr. Girlfriend, The Monarch's second-in-command and girlfriend --> Queen Etherea again for a hot second --> Dr. Mrs. The Monarch, The Monarch's partner and wife.

Prof. Hamilton G. Fantomos, teacher --> Phantom Limb (after an accident), Guild-associated villain --> Revenge, founder of Guild-opposed Revenge Society.

Malcolm, orphaned trust fund baby and student --> Shadowman 9, Phantom Limb's henchman --> Henchman for several other Guild villains, including Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Nightmare Coat --> The Monarch, Guild-associated villain.

Brock Samson, college football player --> Special Agent Samson, OSI --> Agent Samson, SPHINX

Hunter Gathers, male OSI colonel and mentor to Brock --> Hunter Gathers, ousted and marked for death by the OSI and, oh yeah, female --> Blackheart Double Agent (still female) --> Col. Hunter Gathers, Director of SPHINX and male again

And then there's Doctor Rusty Venture.

Or, should I say, "Doctor" Rusty Venture.

Even though the show is named after his twin sons, the show is a portrait of the unaddressed trauma, hypocrisy and pain of Doc's life.  Thaddeus "Rusty" Venture is the son of (actual doctorate holder) Dr. Jonas Venture, a towering Alpha Male of a bygone illusory age.  As a globetrotting superscientist and adventurer, Jonas divided his time between building and inventing amazing things and saving the world from the old-school Guild, back when it was actually something worth worrying about.  Little Rusty faced a classic rock and hard place: to be acknowledged and included in his dad's life meant being in constant danger, frequently kidnapped and often witnessing violence and debauchery, but to eschew this life was to be ignored by his father entirely, as the man was almost never home and when he was, cared little for Rusty.  Jonas capitalized on Rusty's appeal to his young fans by creating a cartoon show around him, thus solidifying his future as Always Trying To Live Up To The Past, either by scaling his father's shadow or fleeing the mini-scientist he once was that everyone assumed became a superscientist just like Dad.

Nope.  Didn't even finish college.  And isn't a very skilled scientist.  But he wears the "doctor" title and continues to attempt to operate Venture Industries with little success and often by means of questionable legality, like human cloning.  The constant drum of self-hatred grows even louder with the discovery and removal of his previously unknown parasitic twin, Jonas Venture Jr., who manages within months of escaping Rusty's stomach to earn two doctorates, run a successful techno-science empire and generally be the popular, smart son Jonas Sr. always wanted Rusty to be.  And so Rusty continues to struggle under the weight of trying to maintain a corporation he isn't qualified to run, reconciling a childhood he isn't emotionally capable of dealing with and chasing an ideal version of himself laid before him by the rest of the watching world that he knows deep down he will never actually reach.  He'll never even get close.

Ashley, you are way too obsessed with this cartoon.  You are way too obsessed with everything.  How do you even remember this stuff?

I feel like The Venture Brothers captures a feeling we all rather share today.  We look at the ideals of the past and of our predecessors, back when technology was different, work schedules were different, the culture was different, a high school diploma meant something different, and wonder what in the context of our culture will register as analogous.  Which ideals and goals do we form that our parents, our teachers, our mentors believe are ephemeral and stupid when they actually aren't, and which do they set before us that are actually no longer feasible?  And if we chase those infeasible goals based on times past, do we get irretrievably left behind in the wake of PROGRESS?  I hear this question in the grappling of teachers over how many internet sources to allow in research papers when print sources are dwindling fast, in the debates in churches over whether to purchase an acoustic piano that requires expensive maintenance in the name of tradition versus an electronic one with more diverse sound capabilities and in my own mind when I think about the onward march of machines and the interwebz and the future of intellectual property like music and written works.

I feel like this post has transcended the boundaries of what a single post ought to contain.  But it's my blog.  So nah.

I Am That Friend

As in, the one you can never really take seriously because she sends emails with subject lines like this...

Maybe someday I'll blog about the EPIC thing I did.  Or maybe I won't.  Jenna and Ashley's reaction will weigh heavily on that decision.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Tidbits

Here are my big thoughts for today:

1. My sister-in-law tried to warn me about this and I just laughed at the time.  Now I realize how much I took for granted as a single woman that people largely knew how to spell my name.  I got a "Rylee" or a "Reilly" maybe once or twice, but by and large people heard my name and their brains saw "Ashley Riley."  Nowadays, folks' minds are right blown by the large population of H's in my last name.  "Ashley" continues not to bother people so much, but "Whelchel" has been a problem.  Andrew was the first Whelchel I ever knew, so his came to be the default spelling in my brain.  When I see "Welchel," it's as jarring as seeing "alot" in print.  It just looks wrong.

2. Bypasses could be used much more frequently.  There are bypasses for big cities so that you don't have to deal with the heavily populated town if it's not your destination.  I hear tell they're building a Murrayville bypass, which is straight up ridiculous because Murrayville is roughly the size of a quarter.  But it would be great to have bypasses for other reasons...
School Starting/Ending Bypass (aka I'm Not Picking Up or Dropping Off A Kid!)
I Don't Care About The Parade Bypass
Showboating Tailgater Bypass (seen every 2 miles on major highways)
Post Office Bypass (sorely needed on Green Street)
Restaurant Row Bypass
Church Starting/Ending Bypass

Well, I started this entry because I needed something to occupy me while I e-chatted with a colleague and now that e-chat has concluded.  Which means I have things to get done!

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Turning That Frown Upside Down

I had a sad dream last night.
As in, wake up and almost cry sad.
Feel like your psyche will be surely crushed under the sadness sad.
Dumbo's mommy singing to him sad.

So I got up (at 5:30 AM because my body has gotten used to getting up early again) and took some time to feel my feelings.  Listened to a song that described how I felt, wrote a journal entry with lots of psycho in it, just unleashed the full measure of my insanity onto paper.  It's funny how that process goes.  You blurt it all out and then you sit for a second, waiting to see if there's anything else floating around in there.  It's like getting sick.  You toss your cookies and then sit on the floor by the toilet for a few minutes, just in case it comes back.  Once it's all out, you feel your body begin to calm down.  Your muscles release and quit trembling and contracting, the sense of dread drains away.  In the case of physical sickness, you might drink a soda or eat some crackers to set matters to rights again.  For emotional sickness, you turn to things like Cute Overload or awesome notes you passed with good friends where you chatted about how people who get doctorates are not superhuman, as evidence by the fact that some of them tuck their ties into their pants and use poor grammar and can't play the piano. 

It took me a while to learn this.  Or perhaps it is normal to grasp this lesson in the early twenties.  I have this neurosis that dictates that I must learn everything sooner and faster than everybody else - it's yet another Right Answer that I must get.  Gifted Kid Syndrome, I guess.  Anyway, it has been helpful for me to view emotional health similarly to how I view physical health.  As a child and a teen I noticed how emotional outbursts earned me scorn and punishment and mistakenly extrapolated that those expressions, nay the feelings themselves, are universally inappropriate.  You can imagine how well this worked out.  Pushing my analogy to the limits of tastefulness, if you get sick and try to keep it all in all the time and never release, you will eventually explode in some fashion.  Something would happen, I would feel a feeling and then immediately be ashamed of that feeling, as if by just thinking it I was demonstrating how weak and immature I was.  Adults don't feel these sorts of things, right?  That must be true, because I get reprimanded when I talk about feeling this way (read: even an effort to get me to "look on the bright side" struck me as a reprimand...GKS again).  I remember hearing about journaling and about letting feelings out from preachers, teachers, counselors and such, but it didn't stick for a long time.  I think part of the reason was because I also love to write and whenever I sit down to write, my inclination is to write for an audience.  Which, of course, defeats the purpose of journaling - it causes you to stifle the most intimate and perhaps distasteful of your thoughts.  Now, I'm finally learning that balance.  It has helped me view my emotional nature as an asset that furthers my creativity and enriches my relationships, rather than as a Mark of Cain that made me Immature.  I do wish I had learned it sooner.  I hope I can model it for my students and my children and spare them some of the embarrassment, frustration and self-hatred I felt as a teen.

I feel like I keep returning to this over and over again, but I suppose we all have thorns in our side and lessons that we have to learn multiple times.  Takes 21 repetitions for something to become a habit, right?  This introspection has caused me to look at other facets of my life that have changed and have made me very thankful for all of my experiences.  My life thus far has taken me from trailors, Spam, Clorox-chlorinated pools and mix tapes to yoga, coffee, Perrier and Schoenberg.  I love this home that Andrew and I have fashioned, I love these friends that God has given me, and I love this life.  Even when I hate it, I love this life.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

The Armchair Psychology of Facebook

I read a piece by the stellar Sady Doyle on how everyone is crafting public personas now, thanks to Facebook, Twitter, et al.  What really gets me is the dichotomy of the public persona for people who aren't Snooki or Lady Gaga.  The allure of Twitter and Facebook updates and i-ate-cereal-today (apologies to Kate Harding and Al Iverson) blogs is that by allowing brief blurbs and semi-anonymous ramblings to cross our computers, we're somehow letting more and more of the words that happen in our head happen in public.  Proof: my last Facebook post:

Flash back to, say, 20 or so years ago.  If I had this same PROFOUND THOUGHT (and were still 24 as opposed to 4), I might at most call ACon and tell her about it.  Now?  Just about every acquaintance I have knows that I drank pineapple-flavored Mexican soda today.

The stream of online drivel creates a secondhand intimacy gained by little to no effort.  Before all this connectedness, if you wanted to be a friend close enough to be privy to these little jewels of insanity, you had to (1) meet me in person, (2) do so on a regular basis, (3) demonstrate through these interactions that you are not a jerk, (4) be compatible with me by virtue of shared interests and strengths, and (5) maintain a quid pro quo by revealing more and more of your actual self as I do the same.  It is organic and it takes years.  Nowadays, I have Facebook friends that I've never actually met in person; if we were to meet, that person could come to the table with extensive knowledge of how my brain works.  Like a FastPass to friendship.  The odd thing is, it doesn't seem to work that way for me.  I have a buddy who I knew through other people and good old Facebook before getting to spend any time with her in person.  When I really did get to spend time with her in person, I figured we'd have an easy time of it because we already knew a lot about each other.

...nope.  Still had lots of awkward silences toward the beginning of the conversation, still hunted-and-pecked for topics, still nosed around for that perfect springboard that would send us into meaningful interaction.

And there's the rub: we think that we're getting to know people at a safe distance through text-based communication like Facebook, Twitter and texting, but that very distance and the nature of written composition as opposed to face-to-face speech disconnects the "true" self from the cyberself.  And no matter how open you try to be over these various media, it will always be a different you than the in-person you.  Yes, I know, "the pen must at length comply with the tongue," but it doesn't.  I'm by no means lamenting the presence and influence of social networking--I love being able to see other people's random thoughts and pictures of their pets--I'm just having trouble reconciling the perceived depth of interaction online with the amount of time and effort it takes to achieve that same depth in-person, regardless of whether you "friended" them or not.

And there's no reason I should be having trouble with that concept, because I saw it happen time and again as a dating teenager.  Lemme tell ya, I was all about some AOL Instant Messenger as a teen, because the pressure was off.  I had time to craft my responses and *dazzle* my suitors with such gems as "Banana peels really aren't that slippery at all."  And those gentlemen were afforded the same advantage, which for them typically yielded sentences like, "i guess thats cool."  What happened when we went on a for-reals date?  The same thing that happens on countless for-reals dates...glorious unabashed gaucheitude.  Because the difference between how I state an idea in writing...


"My new phone is more convenient because its charger doubles as a USB cable"

and how I state it in spoken words

"My phone has this thing [flips cover off charging port] and you can, um, use the charger [points to charger] as a USB cord."

are worlds apart.  I had to pretend someone was sitting next to me and say that sentence aloud to even get it right--I can't even approximate my spoken speech on the computer.  There's a simple explanation that lies at the heart of this whole thing:

Typing takes longer than speaking, no matter how fast you type.

So even if you don't want to, even if you're really trying to be as transparent online or in text as possible, you can't really do it convincingly because the sentence springs from your brain fully formed, but morphs and changes as you type.  By the time you get to the halfway point of the sentence, you've probably already forgotten the original way it bounced out of your head.  It's your internal censor, which still operates in you even at your most relaxed and informal--it helps keep your communication coherent.  In speech, this happens when you have pauses in your sentences or use stalling syllables like "um."  You're giving yourself time to figure out how to clearly convey the idea to the listener.  You get the embryo of a thought and your brain starts buzzing, feeding you synonyms for words you aren't sure about using, informing your grammatical structure, and for most of us ladies, connecting it to eighteen other thoughts and images at the same time that you might use to enrich the thought you're in the middle of verbalizing.

The other big factor is that in text-based cyber communication, there are limits.  Not so much in blogs (as evidenced by this here entry), but especially on Twitter and in most Facebook applications.  You have to use verbal  frugality because 140 characters dries up fast.  Which means that those celebrities you're following aren't necessarily giving you a glimpse of their true selves just because they tweet, "I make awesome decisions in bike stores." (Kanye West)

So I guess what I'm trying to say in all this is that Sady is right and that the concept she's illustrating stretches even to those who aren't actively trying to censor their Facebook/Twitter out of career concerns or vanity.  Any text-based communication, open and honest though it may be, will by its very nature be a more polished version of the original speaker.  So when we tell casual acquaintances to Facebook us because we think it will take the awkward out of superficial social interaction, we are wrong.  As soon as we get face-to-face again, we'll return to wherever we were in that organic friend-making process, regardless of text-based interactions.  Which is why all the whining about texting and Facebook turning us into hermits is total crap.  We still need people, and it still takes genuine effort and vulnerability to get people.

Full disclosure: I don't have a Twitter account.  But I do regularly check the Twitter accounts of my favorite writers and celebrities.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Welcome to Marriage With A Gold Prospector

My thoughts as I pulled up to our house, our yard freshly raked free of leaves...

"Our beautiful home...

...our beautiful tree and stockings in the window...

...our giant shovel that I was not aware we owned..."

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Ashley Decides...That Hans Landa is A Psychopath

Since the last post that contained my incessant mental unraveling of a couple of films seemed to go over well, I thought I would share the line of thought I enjoyed this morning as I was showering.

Hans Landa is the villain from Tarantino's Inglourious [CENSORED].  If you haven't seen that film, you need to get on that.  It gets the R rating for copious cussing and violence, so be prepared for blood and F-bombs in several spots, but aside from that it is marvelously written and acted.  The Landa character and lucky dog that got to play it, Christoph Waltz, have garnered much praise and plenty of meaty fodder for critics and students of acting to play with.  A big question that none of the interviewers and critics can seem to agree on is, "Is Landa truly evil?"  Now, I know there are plenty of black-and-white types who look at Landa and say, "Um, that's a Nazi uniform.  Of course he's evil."  And please follow me on this: The Nazi ideology was undeniably evil.  I am in no way alleging that it is anything but.  But to round Landa up with the evil that we associate with Nazism, we assume that Landa agrees with that ideology and acts according to its tenets.  If you've seen the movie, you know that isn't the case; he ends up a turncoat of the first water.  There were a couple of moments where Landa acted in ways that pretty much line up with anybody's definition of evil, political party notwithstanding, but I think the "evil" label in this context applies just as much to intent as to action.  To me, "evil" carries emotion, driven by things like anger or vengeance--Landa, cold as he was, never really got angry or vengeful until the very end, after he had done his morally reprehensible things.  Christoph Waltz vaccillates a little from interview to interview (possibly because of time constraints or differences of intellect during different interview), but more often than not, he asserts that the character isn't evil.  And I agree.

I think Hans Landa is a psychopath.

By that, I refer to the clinical definition of psychopathy, not the pop culture one that makes us think of Hannibal Lector.  Per Scientific American, psychopaths are "superficially charming," "largely devoid of guilt, empathy and love," and "have difficulty inhibiting their impulses," among other things.  Basically, few to no feelings and no conscience.  Though they get the most media coverage and Hollywood treatment, violent psychopaths are rare, and most are still able to observe and understand various emotions, even if they don't feel them themselves, and thus learn how to function in society smoothly.  Despite all the cultural baggage and connotations, psychopathy is much like any other mental disorder, with varying degrees of functionality.

As regards Landa specifically, I think he has a deadly combination of high logical-verbal intelligence that allows him to anticipate his enemies' (and allies') actions, and psychopathy that "frees" him from moral and ethical dilemmas.  His actions throughout the film demonstrate many psychopathic symptoms:
1. To Monsieur LaPadite, his conversation seems to convey pride in his post and a fundamental belief that Germans and Jews are fundamentally different--he characterizes them as hawk and rat, predator-prey.  To Shoshanna in the cafe, he speaks condescendingly about black people, refusing to allow the black projectionist in her employ to work the night of the premiere.  But to Aldo and Udavitch, he's most boastful of his skills as a detective, with no concern for the religion or ethnicity of those he kills and obvious contempt for his superiors (there's an understatement...)  He knows what each party wants or expects to hear and he delivers.  To the casual observer, his moral center and beliefs seem obscured.  I'm saying that the closest thing he has to a moral center is his own well-being and material ascendance.
2. Landa kills three times in the film, the third being a bit indirect.  Not once does he show a speck of remorse.  The first time, he was simply doing the job.  The second, as he puts it, "Let's just say she got what she deserved.  And when you purchase friends like Bridget von Hammersmark, you get what you pay for."  And the third time, he kills in exchange for legal clemency and lots of shiny parting gifts.  Yes, I'm being metaphorical in an effort to avoid spoiling.  Anyway, he's most interested in either maintaining his secure position in the SS or moving to another position of security, the cost of human life a mere trifle to him.
3. Bridget von Hammersmark, mere minutes prior to her death, flirtatiously tells Landa to lay off the flattery, saying, "I've met too many of your former conquests to fall into that honeypot."  Sexual promiscuity is common in psychopaths because they don't form the emotional bonds prior to or during such activity that people not afflicted with psychopathy form.
4. Landa's reaction to Bridget becoming a British spy was extreme, especially given the plans he had for later.  Even on the outside chance that he didn't know what Raine's specific plans were at the premiere, he knew by his very presence that something was happening--why not just let Bridget deal with that?  I think that (1) he was upset because he thought he had all of Raine's moves anticipated to the T and Bridget's participation was like a needle to his ego balloon and (2) there was a chance she could escape, and even if he could still finagle getting everything he wanted out of the Big Deal, he couldn't let Bridget get away thinking she had snookered him when he's the Master Manipulator.  Also, I think his choice of weapon demonstrates the impulse control issue that psychopaths tend to have.  After all, he had much more efficient methods at his disposal and, of course, didn't need to worry about cleanup.
5. This is perhaps not as compelling, but there are holes in Landa's story that might also indicate psychopathic symptoms in his past.  We learn about Raine's family--"I'm a di-rect descendant of the mountain man Jim Bridger."  We learn about Shoshanna's family, if briefly, and about her current lover.  But there's no mention of family or any major relationships at all in Landa's personal story.  The most we learn is that he was plucked out of a house in Austria.  Because of the aforementioned inability to form emotional ties, psychopaths tend to fail at long-term relationships and marriages.
6. Another small indicator--Landa could give a crap about social norms, to the point of never really learning anybody's name unless he has to know it.  Any man in a subservient position to him (waiter at the premiere, radio operator at the end) gets called Herrman, which is rather the German equivalent of "Mr. Man."  (per Wikipedia.) 
7. There are only two occasions when Landa exhibits what might loosely be called emotions.  He seems pretty angry with Bridget, but then again, he's angry because his Puppet Mastery got interrupted, and anger is one of the few emotions accessible to most psychopaths, especially if their efforts are interrupted or thwarted.  Also, because they don't feel the pressure of social or cultural norms, they don't feel obligated to rein in or conceal that anger.  The second time Landa gets angry, he is again protesting the fact that his control over the situation has been usurped.  His cry of, "I made a deal with your general for that man's life!" is made not as a protest of the man having been killed (since he doesn't even know the guy's name), but as a protest of the terms of his agreement being violated.

Taking a broader perspective, I think Landa works toward maintaining the most advantageous circumstances for himself.  At the beginning of the movie, which is at the height of Nazi power, it is most advantageous for him to be the Most Feared SS Officer Ever.  However, he is well aware that the Nazi ideology is too extreme to last for long; while he personally could care less who is killing whom, he knows that there are lots of people in power who don't like genocide and will eventually topple the Third Reich.  As soon as he sees a clear way to move himself into more advantageous circumstances, he makes it happen.

So, to call him "evil" would be to assign malicious intent to him that he doesn't necessarily have.  He's not out to "hurt" anyone per se because he wouldn't perceive "hurt" the way we do.  He's interested in maintaining control and in meeting his own needs and desires.  Sure, he's completely unconcerned with the means he uses to meet those needs and desires and with the consequences of those means, but I warrant you that if he had been in a different time and place where there wasn't state-sanctioned genocide going on, he wouldn't have been killing anybody because to do so wouldn't gain him anything.  He didn't derive pleasure from killing; he wanted whatever "reward" issued from the killing, be it job security, a plugged leak or a "promotion" of sorts.

Thus, Hans Landa wasn't evil--he was a psychopath.

Yes, I think about this kind of crap in the shower.  No, I am not a psychopath.  (Believe me, I got emotions coming out my ears.)

Friday, November 26, 2010

Book Nerd Meme and Ramblings (Huge, Massive Post)

Editor's Note: I know this has been going around on Facebook, but the Facebook note function isn't working on my computer right now.  Dern.

Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here. Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses!  (Sry, yo, but I don't tag.)


1. Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings – JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series – JK Rowling (how the crap is this on the same list as Jane Eyre???)
5 To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee
6 The Bible (King James and Hebrew) (working on it)
7 Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwel
9 His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations – Charles Dickens
11 Little Women – Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 – Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye – JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch – George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House – Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield – Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia – CS Lewis
34 Emma – Jane Austen
35 Persuasion – Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis (listed separately from "Chronicles" because...?)
37 The Kite Runner – Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis De Berniere
39 Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne
41 Animal Farm – George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving
45 The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables – LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies – William Golding
50 Atonement – Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi – Yann Martel
52 Dune – Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World – Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck
62 Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History – Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road – Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary – Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick – Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens
72 Dracula – Bram Stoker (but I have read its predecessor, Carmilla by Le Fanu)
73 The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses – James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons – Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal – Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession – AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple – Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web – EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks
94 Watership Down – Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet – William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables – Victor Hugo

And I don't buy for a second the supposition that the BBC compiled this list as some representative sample of fine literature.  Perhaps I'm biased, but here are a few that I have read or started that I think could easily kick Rowling and Dan Brown out of their spots:
The Secret Life of Bees - Sue Monk Kidd
The Scarlet Letter - Nathaniel Hawthorne
Matilda - Roald Dahl
Silas Marner - George Eliot
The Awakening - Kate Chopin
Their Eyes Were Watching God - Zora Neale Hurston

And then there are my humorists that I love so dearly...
Pontoon - Garrison Keillor
Love Me - Garrison Keillor
I'll Mature When I'm Dead - Dave Barry
Family: The Ties that Bind and Gag - Erma Bombeck
Chili Dawgs Always Bark at Night - Lewis Grizzard
Anything ever written ever by Ogden Nash. 

Editor's Second Note: From here, I descend into a pit of Movie Trivia from which there is no escape, largely for my own enjoyment.  Read at your own risk.

Incidentally, it was Nash who wrote "Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker."  People mistakenly attribute it to Willy Wonka from the 70s adaptation of the Dahl book because he says it after Veruca's father points out the presence of a "butter gin" tank - most of Gene Wilder's lines as Wonka were quotes from literary and musical works, a quirk written in by the screenwriters (read: not in his original Dahl characterization) to make him seem "just a little off" as opposed to borderline antisocial.  Johnny Depp's Wonka is actually much closer to the one Dahl wrote in the book.

Another interesting Wonka tidbit: in the 70s version, when Wonka plays the "musical lock" to open one of the doors, Mike Teevee's mother hears the brief motive and says, "Rachmaninoff."  She is mistaken.  The musical combination is actually the first few notes from the overture to The Marriage of Figaro, composed by Mozart.

The 70s Wonka movie was filmed in Munich because the filmmakers didn't want American audiences to recognize any landmarks, making it easier for the individual viewer to identify with the town and perhaps draw parallels between Charlie's hometown and their own.

There is a difference of title between the two films.  The 70s adaptation is Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, placing emphasis on the eccentric Wonka and using Charlie as more of a frame story.  The 2000s version uses the actual book title, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and sticking more closely to the book's portrayal of Charlie as a purifying force in Wonka's isolated world.

I don't remember the book clearly enough to know how or if it described the worldwide scramble for the Golden Tickets, but it does strike me as interesting that although the tickets are ostensibly sent out far and wide, all five winners are white, Western-hemisphere children, three of whom are American, one English and one German.  In addition, one of them magically lives in the same town in which the factory is located.  True, Charlie would likely not have had the means to travel a long distance to get to the factory, but still.  I suppose it's called "suspension of disbelief."  Or to put it another way, "Get over it and keep reading/watching."

It's interesting to look at how the two films morphed each character for the big screen.  The 70s version went with a more traditional movie-musical and had to make it warmer and fuzzier because of that choice, whereas the 2005 version had the task of translating the children's vices into contemporary culture.
Charlie Bucket - Because Charlie was (1) the main character and (2) presented as deeply impoverished with specific lifestyle quirks (like the massive grandparent slumber party in the living room), the only differences between the two Charlies are energy and mood.  Peter Ostrum's Charlie is more morose and melancholy, while Freddie Highmore's Charlie is pragmatic and stable.  Highmore's Charlie didn't need his mother to sing "Cheer Up, Charlie" to give him the strength to walk home at the end of the day.
Willy Wonka - As I mentioned above, Wilder's Wonka got molded like Play-Doh into a different man than the one Dahl wrote in the book.  They used his frequent quoting and peculiar factory to make him "eccentric," but gave him the heart of an eternal child, pure in intentions and almost constantly delighted in demeanor.  Depp's, on the other hand, gets his eccentricity from a torrent of emotional baggage.  The 2005 writers added the father-as-dentist subplot to explain the baggage; the book never really does.  A good example of where the two Wonkas widely deviate from one another is their reaction to Charlie's suggestion that his family come to live at the factory, made shortly after he learns that his grand prize is inheritance of the factory.  Wilder's Wonka smiles warmly and immediately agrees, prophesying that Charlie will live happily ever after.  Depp's Wonka laughs derisively and refuses, claiming that family members would be a deterrent to Charlie's success. 
Violet Beauregard - The highly dedicated gum-chewer.  The 70s Violet is a chatty, assertive young woman whose downfall is caused by an inability to submit to authority or to listen to advice.  The 2005 Violet, on the other hand, is competitive and excels at several disciplines, one of which just happens to be gum-chewing.  Her competitive nature (and her mother's enabling) lands her in Wonka's juicer.  Funny how the exact same action - taking a piece of gum that hasn't been fully tested - can be so differently driven and executed by two actresses and screenwriter teams!  Also, she undergoes a change in geography; 70s Violet is from Montana, while 2005 Violet is from the ATL, shawty!
Mike Teevee - The 70s Mike enjoys his TV and carries around his little cowboy pistols, but he isn't really given a heavy "vice" beyond over-curiosity about Wonka's kinesthetic television device.  2005's Mike has a bulldozer streak; he's violent, aggressive and angry (the filmmakers show him playing video games, apparently as a means of explanation.)  That uncontrolled rage and aggression are what get him into trouble.  Again, same character, same basic action - jumping onto and activating a dangerous device - made to look very different in the two films.  The boys' reactions to Wonka's explanation of the device also demonstrate their differences very clearly: 70s Mike is excited at the prospect of being on TV himself, while 2005 Mike yells at Wonka for having stumbled upon teleportation and not even acknowledging it because he's so obsessed with chocolate.
Many of the other characters aren't developed heavily enough to be much different between the two films.  Veruca Salt, Augustus Gloop and Grandpa Joe are all outlined like coloring book pictures and aren't given much room in the plot to deviate from their characterizations or background stories.  Veruca = spoiled brat.  Augustus = glutton.  Grandpa = Charlie's favorite grandparent, cheerful and full of Wonka folklore.  However, the portrayal of the childrens' parents and how it changed between the two films bears mentioning.  In both films, Veruca's father and Augustus' mother are painted as enablers.  But the two other non-Charlie parents get very different treatment - Mike Teevee's mother is an average, if talkative, woman in the first, but is replaced by a weak, ineffective father in the second, thus demonstrating how Mike's violent streak grew unchecked.  Violet Beauregard's father is a loud, smiley car salesman in the first, but is replaced by a hyper-competitive mother living vicariously through her daughter's achievements in the second.  In general, the 70s version was written as lighter family fare, trying as hard as it could to make the characters average and accessible to the audiences and to make the storyline as relatable as possible.  The 2005 version, however, ventured gleefully into absurd and surreal corners and drew very clearly a landscape of parent-as-villain, wherein the failings and obsessions of parents shape the children in a harmful way. 

This adult-vs-child theme runs through a lot of Dahl's writing.  Consider his other very well-known children's books (both of which have corresponding film adaptations), Matilda and James and the Giant Peach.  Two children in abusive and desperate situations find in themselves the power to strike back.  I got to read an excerpt from Dahl's autobio where he talks about having grown up in a really tough boarding school.  It makes it pretty clear why the theme of abused/neglected children comes up frequently.

Well, this post is getting so long that the AutoSave function is taking longer and longer to finish.  Which is probably a sign that I should stop.  If you've read all the way to the end, I am shocked.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Stole it from Sarah

I'm bored, but not sleepy.  Ergo, while archive-surfing through my favorite blogs, I picked up this meme from Sarah.

50 Questions1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? There are two answers to that question...one version claims that it's a Gone With the Wind thing between "Ashley" and "Tara."  The other (truer) one says that Mom picked a pretty first name and Dad picked the middle name after the prettiest girl he'd ever known.  No, the name "Tara" does not appear anywhere in Mom's name.  Little wonder they didn't last...
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? 1:30 today
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? yes
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? turkey
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? not yet, hopefully soon
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Considering Ashley Conway, I pretty much already am
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM? Do you ask questions?
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Nope, they were evicted after repeatedly violating my "No swelling and creating a perfect environment for strep" policy
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Nope. 
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? it varies.  Today, it's Lucky Charms
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? Nope
12. HOW MANY CAVITIES HAVE YOU HAD? 10.  I have superb dental habits, but crooked and oddly shaped teeth.
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? ben and jerry's birthday cake or ben and jerry's creme brulee
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? demeanor--whether he/she looks passive or assertive.  I tend to shrink around assertive people because I'm a wimp.
15. RED OR PINK? Pink (see, told you I was a wimp)
16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? The fact that I am a wimp.  And my genetic predisposition to zits.
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? at this particular moment, a mentor that has moved away
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST? No one follows my blog, and reading the answers of the literal "everyone" would take a long time.
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? blue and brown polka dotted pajama pants, no shoes
20. CAT OR DOG? dog
21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? the faint echo of South Park as Andrew watches in the bedroom
22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? hot pink
23. FAVORITE SMELL? perfumes.  There's only one that Andrew isn't allergic to, so when I'm shopping without him, I sniff every perfume and body spray on Earth.
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? The young man at Papa John's who takes orders
25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Was stolen rather than sent, but Sarah is pretty much my role model for family life and mommyhood when I get there someday.
26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Football!  If only the Dawgs would stop getting arrested and win some games already.
27. HAIR COLOR? Kinda depends on the lighting.  Some say brown, some say very dark blonde, some say red, some say auburn.  So it's Aublondrown.  Or something.
28. EYE COLOR? Blue
29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? No, but I've always been curious about how it feels to wear them
30. FAVORITE FOOD? Varies.  Today, it's Poor Richards' French Onion Soup.
31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?  Neither.  Light comedy with sharp verbal humor that doesn't get too melodramatic.  I'm hard to please.
32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? The Mystery Science Theatre 3000 take on "Puma Man."
33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Black with the BigStuf Band logo for that year on it.
34. SUMMER OR WINTER? Summer
35. HUGS OR KISSES? Both, though mouth kissing is reserved exclusively for Andrew.  If I had my way, everybody would hug all the time.
36. FAVORITE DESSERT? Creme brulee
37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Who's the most ambitious in a blog follower group of zero?
38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Ditto
39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? I just finished "A Marriage Made in Heaven - or, Too Tired for An Affair" by Erma Bombeck.  Next on the list is "Shoot Low, Boys, They're Ridin' Shetland Ponies" by Lewis Grizzard.  See, told you I like sharp verbal humor.
40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? Is a laptop, so the "mousepad" is just a small gray square.  There's a green Skullcandy logo under my right hand as I type, though.  That's sort of interesting.
41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? Scrubs reruns.
42. FAVORITE SOUND(S)? Good choral music that isn't flufftastic or opportunistically written (which, sadly, excludes great swaths of SSA literature). 
43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Beatles.  I have never understood the allure of the Stones.
44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? California
45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? On my left foot, when I try to spread out my toes, my pinky toe goes backwards and crosses over on top of the neighboring one. 
46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Less than a mile from where I'm sitting now.
47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK? Nothing rhymes with orange.
48. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER? At Lanier Hills.  I was 14, he was 25.  I had a crush on him from the start :)
49. CUP HALF FULL OR HALF EMPTY? Who's been drinking out of my glass?
50. IF YOU COULD SIT DOWN TO DINNER WITH FIVE PEOPLE WHO WOULD YOU CHOOSE? Jesus, i think that would do it.  <--I'm with Sarah on that one

Friday, October 8, 2010

Bits and Pieces

Classical guitar music is great for unwinding.

God wants me to go to the library.  I know this because the humorists are right beside the poetry.

You always remember that you need an oil change when you're late to an appointment that will last all day.

Music theory grammar has ruined me.  I used to be able to call E-flat minor "E-flat minor" regardless of the context because that's how everybody really thinks of it.  Now, if I'm in F# major, I just can't.

On crime dramas, you'll meet the perpetrator in the first fifteen minutes.

I identify deeply with the relationship between J. D. and Dr. Cox on Scrubs.

Who's buying Fushigi?  And the Shake Weight?  Dear actors in the commercials: You look ridiculous.

(Personal crap alert) We want a young 'un and I just got confirmation that we have again been unsuccessful in this endeavor.  So perhaps all these Bits and Pieces are less an effort to give any people who sniff out this blog something to read and more an attempt to cheer myself up.  Two birds, one rock.