The news article linked here, , finally reports John McCain acting the hero he has been attempting to portray himself over the course of this campaign. He once said, "Better to lose a war than a campaign"; now it seems he finally realizes that it is better to lose a campaign than one's honor, which surely has been more than adequately besmirched in recent days and weeks by increasingly rabid radical supporters. Those who see McCain as representative of demagoguery and hate mongering do their idol a disservice. Perhaps McCain reclaims his honor too late for this campaign, but it is never too late to do so for the man himself.
Seriously, if McCain had actually gone to Washington and fought the bailout bill instead of desperately flailing before attempting to assist in its passage, if he had called out the hate mongers when they first surfaced, if he had resisted the easy path of turning GOP young guns loose on his campaign when his numbers first floundered, I might have thought him enough of a leader to respect and at least consider.
Now at least, I am once more willing to consider the merits of the man who has actually contributed much to the legislation some of us take for granted today.
Still not good enough for president when reflex responses matter so much more, but an honorable legislator, truly.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Monday, October 06, 2008
Monday Freefall Part Next
It's the first Monday in October, but instead of leading off with stories about the Supreme Court opening a new round of sessions, the news is full of more freefall on Wall Street and its counterparts around the globe. It's good to be able to go global, isn't it?
In case anyone is confused, the legislation so urgently demanded by Bush and supported by both presidential candidates is intended to assist the lending industry, a different beast than the Wall Street that so many citizens were so eager to assure their spooked Representatives they did not want to help bail out. Now while I'm all for helping to alleviate credit debt, I remain leery of anything recommended by G.W., especially anything urgently recommended by G.W....
And it's good to know that both Democrat and Republican candidates are adamantly for change and for blowing off lobbyists, as long as said folk bow out gracefully while still leaving their ample donations at the door on their ways out...
So where was all this vaunted leadership when that lovely bill was being crafted? Where is there evidence of direct assistance to the financially distressed in the streets (literally), as opposed to continuing to rely on the theory of trickle down economics, which seems to be at the heart of the idea of buying up bad debt? And why are we only now hearing about the private companies that will be serving as "economic experts" who will be doing the actually buying and processing of said bad debts?
Personally, I'm sick and tired of having my perfectly good credit card debts being sold to increasingly rapacious holders who have consistently raised the interest rates on outstanding debt. I've given up on seeing any end in sight, aside from the promised lighted tunnel, after which I won't care anyway. But enough and too much about me -
Now that the national election campaigns are entering the final month, the rainy season is beginning and mud is flying. As a teacher I used to sit in conferences with parents of children who had been reprimanded for fighting, only to hear said parents averring that while they had taught their children not to start fights, they had also personally taught their children to make sure at least to bloody if not outright knock down and out anyone who attacked them first, either verbally or physically. Now I hear the same from an otherwise high-minded sounding candidate. All I can say is grrrrrrrr
Of course, I realize that turning the other cheek, while Christ-like, is believed to have cost at least two or three previous candidates the presidency, which I guess is why true Christians make such poor and unsuccessful politicians. Equally disturbing is the observation that those most vocally professing to be followers of Christ are the ones leading the character assassinations. IMHO, they give true believers a bad name. Of course, that's nothing new: the Roman Emperor Nero is credited with being the first high profile fellow to villify Christians, while his successors managed to do so from within the Church. Ah well...
Jesus said, "Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, and unto God that which is God's." That doesn't seem to invite political activism on any level, certainly not in His name. That's my story and I'm sticking to it (as Steve Kerr famously said in a Chicago park back in the early 90s).
In case anyone is confused, the legislation so urgently demanded by Bush and supported by both presidential candidates is intended to assist the lending industry, a different beast than the Wall Street that so many citizens were so eager to assure their spooked Representatives they did not want to help bail out. Now while I'm all for helping to alleviate credit debt, I remain leery of anything recommended by G.W., especially anything urgently recommended by G.W....
And it's good to know that both Democrat and Republican candidates are adamantly for change and for blowing off lobbyists, as long as said folk bow out gracefully while still leaving their ample donations at the door on their ways out...
So where was all this vaunted leadership when that lovely bill was being crafted? Where is there evidence of direct assistance to the financially distressed in the streets (literally), as opposed to continuing to rely on the theory of trickle down economics, which seems to be at the heart of the idea of buying up bad debt? And why are we only now hearing about the private companies that will be serving as "economic experts" who will be doing the actually buying and processing of said bad debts?
Personally, I'm sick and tired of having my perfectly good credit card debts being sold to increasingly rapacious holders who have consistently raised the interest rates on outstanding debt. I've given up on seeing any end in sight, aside from the promised lighted tunnel, after which I won't care anyway. But enough and too much about me -
Now that the national election campaigns are entering the final month, the rainy season is beginning and mud is flying. As a teacher I used to sit in conferences with parents of children who had been reprimanded for fighting, only to hear said parents averring that while they had taught their children not to start fights, they had also personally taught their children to make sure at least to bloody if not outright knock down and out anyone who attacked them first, either verbally or physically. Now I hear the same from an otherwise high-minded sounding candidate. All I can say is grrrrrrrr
Of course, I realize that turning the other cheek, while Christ-like, is believed to have cost at least two or three previous candidates the presidency, which I guess is why true Christians make such poor and unsuccessful politicians. Equally disturbing is the observation that those most vocally professing to be followers of Christ are the ones leading the character assassinations. IMHO, they give true believers a bad name. Of course, that's nothing new: the Roman Emperor Nero is credited with being the first high profile fellow to villify Christians, while his successors managed to do so from within the Church. Ah well...
Jesus said, "Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, and unto God that which is God's." That doesn't seem to invite political activism on any level, certainly not in His name. That's my story and I'm sticking to it (as Steve Kerr famously said in a Chicago park back in the early 90s).
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Again, Already
It's the Saturday ending the wildest economic roller coaster ride this country has experienced in my lifetime, culminating in what can only be called the nationalizing (read socializing) of three major financial institutions, and already members of Congress are passing about accusations and innuendo about politicking over rapid passage of the sweeping proposal presented them. As I read the aforelinked article, I could not help but be glad that someone is pausing to read and think before signing off ahead of the drying ink. Seriously, would you rubber stamp a proposal (and with such rapidity) that has emerged from the office of the one we have for too long called simply, G. W.? Is this proposal, in fact, the salvation of our American economy and way of life as we know it, or is it just another grab for power in an opportune moment such as has happened repeatedly in this land of exploitation at every opportunity? The term, "sweeping powers" sends shivers up and down my spine. I cannot but approve a closer scrutiny of conditions that will quite possibly protect those who sought to benefit at the expense of the majority, and who evidently still do...
And....
Does anyone besides those directly affected remember that we began the week facing the monumental task of picking up the pieces after the devastation of Hurricane Ike, that monster storm that has cut a wide swath across the nation, not just the impressive devastation through Texas? That was the promise of a whopping bill as well. What are those in D.C. thinking these days? Are they? Or are they experiencing more knee-jerk reactions such as those in evidence following the 9/11/01 attacks?
Cynical? Who me?
And....
Does anyone besides those directly affected remember that we began the week facing the monumental task of picking up the pieces after the devastation of Hurricane Ike, that monster storm that has cut a wide swath across the nation, not just the impressive devastation through Texas? That was the promise of a whopping bill as well. What are those in D.C. thinking these days? Are they? Or are they experiencing more knee-jerk reactions such as those in evidence following the 9/11/01 attacks?
Cynical? Who me?
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Birthing Biases
Today's most disturbing news item amidst word of war and rumors of war in distant Georgia is that several families in Kansas are suing a Roman Catholic parochial school because of an English only policy recently instituted in response to playground behavior problems that resulted in an expulsion. The students and families involved are all evidently either U.S. citizens or legal immigrants. The problem seems to stem from the fact that at least one of the students was using another language on the playground to make disparaging remarks about fellow classmates, faculty, and staff, thus inciting negative attitudes and behavior in others. Though the lawsuit was filed in May, it's making the news today because the the civil suit is commencing.
When I first heard the teaser for this story, I thought there was another battle brewing about bilingual education. Unfortunately, this is not such a simple case, for this involves the attempt of a private school to control the behavior of its students. It's not a public school, so the students are there by choice, not perforce. The students involved are native English speakers, so it's not a matter of denying them academic access or hindering their learning. And let's face it: kids talking smack is an ever-present problem, regardless of where they congregate.
On the other hand, whether the school is allowed to make and uphold its own policy or not, the fact that the issue has been raised is a problem. Schools need to be able to enforce discipline and private schools have the right to try to inculcate their chosen value system on their students, but does anyone have the right to try to control talk and thoughts, especially during free time in open spaces? It's all very disturbing.
Then there's the news today that the Spanish Olympic basketball team posed for a photo for a courier company that is one of the team's sponsors. The problem is multifaceted: the ad involves all the team members using their fingers to make slant-eyes and has been running daily for well over a month back in Spain; almost no one on the team or associated with the team sees a problem with this; nothing seems to be happening in response to the recent concerns raised by international journalists, the issue being viewed by the Spaniards as a tempest in a teapot.
So the change we seek for unity in a globally diverse world is still evidently a bit of a ways down the road, it seems.
When I first heard the teaser for this story, I thought there was another battle brewing about bilingual education. Unfortunately, this is not such a simple case, for this involves the attempt of a private school to control the behavior of its students. It's not a public school, so the students are there by choice, not perforce. The students involved are native English speakers, so it's not a matter of denying them academic access or hindering their learning. And let's face it: kids talking smack is an ever-present problem, regardless of where they congregate.
On the other hand, whether the school is allowed to make and uphold its own policy or not, the fact that the issue has been raised is a problem. Schools need to be able to enforce discipline and private schools have the right to try to inculcate their chosen value system on their students, but does anyone have the right to try to control talk and thoughts, especially during free time in open spaces? It's all very disturbing.
Then there's the news today that the Spanish Olympic basketball team posed for a photo for a courier company that is one of the team's sponsors. The problem is multifaceted: the ad involves all the team members using their fingers to make slant-eyes and has been running daily for well over a month back in Spain; almost no one on the team or associated with the team sees a problem with this; nothing seems to be happening in response to the recent concerns raised by international journalists, the issue being viewed by the Spaniards as a tempest in a teapot.
So the change we seek for unity in a globally diverse world is still evidently a bit of a ways down the road, it seems.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Proof That Blonde Is a State of Mind
Cokie Roberts, the ABC journalist who feels comfortable taking a cheerleading name into professional journalism, is reported in this morning's newspapers as characterizing Hawaii as "foreign" and "exotic", even though she admits to being aware that it is, in fact, the 50th state. She questions the wisdom of Barack Obama's decision to take a weeklong breather in the town of his birth and youth after a grueling year on the campaign trail, even though part of his stated purpose is to visit his aging grandmother and sister, who both still reside here. Ms. Roberts suggests that a man in serious pursuit of the presidency of the United States would be better off vacationing in an east coast resort such as Myrtle Beach. Is this professional journalist by any chance aware of the provincialism evident in such a perspective?
I never cease to be amazed that those who style themselves as cosmopolitan or at least sophisticated can be so oblivious of the narrowness of their own perceptions as to what constitutes "the world" and that which matters in it. Is the east coast the only relevant geographic arena in our country? Is anything to which one cannot drive beyond the bounds of acceptable?
I do remember the fuss and furor when Ronald Reagan set up a "West Coast White House" because he was desirous of occasionally returning to his California ranch and horses to get away from the hubbub of D.C. Lyndon Johnson and the Bushes have periodically returned to their Texas homes for rest, recreation, and even occasional political liaisons.
Still, since Hawaii is strategically positioned in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and claims the title of "Crossroads of the Pacific," is it not at least as well-placed, if not more so, than Washington, D.C. as things heat up in Georgia and the world turns its attention to Georgia?
The world's still a big place, albeit shrinking in perception daily. If one travels far enough, one circles back. The days of easy access only by cart or car are long past. Legislators travel from all fifty states to congregate and serve in the capital, and no one has serious problems with either travel or communications. If a sitting representative does not occasionally make it back home, the electorate wonders whether or not s/he remembers the roots from which such a representative came. Everyone else vying for leadership in this country discounts Hawaii as too distant and too insignificant to bother visiting during an election. It's nice to know that a native son has managed to take time, at least once, to come home and remember the family and friends who have contributed so much to the shaping of who and what he now is and hopes someday to be.
I never cease to be amazed that those who style themselves as cosmopolitan or at least sophisticated can be so oblivious of the narrowness of their own perceptions as to what constitutes "the world" and that which matters in it. Is the east coast the only relevant geographic arena in our country? Is anything to which one cannot drive beyond the bounds of acceptable?
I do remember the fuss and furor when Ronald Reagan set up a "West Coast White House" because he was desirous of occasionally returning to his California ranch and horses to get away from the hubbub of D.C. Lyndon Johnson and the Bushes have periodically returned to their Texas homes for rest, recreation, and even occasional political liaisons.
Still, since Hawaii is strategically positioned in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and claims the title of "Crossroads of the Pacific," is it not at least as well-placed, if not more so, than Washington, D.C. as things heat up in Georgia and the world turns its attention to Georgia?
The world's still a big place, albeit shrinking in perception daily. If one travels far enough, one circles back. The days of easy access only by cart or car are long past. Legislators travel from all fifty states to congregate and serve in the capital, and no one has serious problems with either travel or communications. If a sitting representative does not occasionally make it back home, the electorate wonders whether or not s/he remembers the roots from which such a representative came. Everyone else vying for leadership in this country discounts Hawaii as too distant and too insignificant to bother visiting during an election. It's nice to know that a native son has managed to take time, at least once, to come home and remember the family and friends who have contributed so much to the shaping of who and what he now is and hopes someday to be.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Going Bananas
It's been awhile since I've been here, so let's get right to it, shall we?
Went to a local multiplex this afternoon, figuring I'd see whatever wasn't sold out. I mention this little factoid as it clearly reflects the state of my expectations, or lack thereof...
As I was in a bit of a time crunch, Space Chimps promised to be a perfect combination of available, brief, and underadvertised; it fulfilled that promise. The audience was sparse, the laughter seemed primarily to come from me, (but I've been away from consistent film viewing for some time now,) but I found it a pleasant way to ease back into experiencing a theatrical airing of a movie.
Having just read the Yahoo reviews submitted by other viewers, I cannot help but notice how much the reviews remind me of the political rhetorc airing daily on CNN. There seems to be a very hard division between lovers and haters of this film, and I suspect I know where the lline lies.
I confess I understand why there are those who say all the characters were a bit annoying, even as I understand those who found the film to be cute. On the one hand, I love monkeys: I've never seen an entire group without at least one class clown and an appreciative audience within said gathering; on the other hand, I can see how those unable to ignore the anthropomorphizing simply want to slap the protagonist silly, get the girl drunk to loosen her up a bit and get the rod out of her rectum, and drop the stud muffin monkey into the nearest deepest pit. And yes, Jeff Daniels' villainous character is written with the depth of Dudley Doright's Dishonest John. But seriously, what can one expect going into a movie rated G? The ones I question are the ones who had problems with the language used.
Granted, the puns are groan-worthy corny, but some people like that sort of thing; my dad does, but I don't (exactly) judge him for it. He is, after all, from a different era/mentality/world than the one in which I live and move. Of course, that's a puritanical world in which sexual innuendo is picked up on highly sensitive radar that begs explanations by the innocent. While not everyone who appreciates corn will necessarily be offended by innuendo, those who will be offended won't like anything about this film.
Of course, those who dislike this film because they do not relate to or appreciate the criticism leveled at the protagonist's behavior are not those who will be offended by the innuendo. If anything, they will find the references too tame by far. In fact, there was one and only one comment that caused me to do a doubletake because it seemed so out of keeping with the general tone otherwise maintained throughout the film.
I think what irritated me more was that the protagonist's manifestations of the chip on his shoulder seemed all too real to me. Such characters are alive and well in our society, much too well. They strut and preen, show off and mouth off, and it's all considered normal, acceptable, conventional. The film dealt with this and all other problems much as has the Road Runner over the years. If one sympathizes with Wile E. Coyote or even merely abhors RR's violent solutions, one will find SC less than amusing.
Another way of looking at it, I think, is that this is reminiscent of Mel Gibson's Chicken Run, though I found the chimps more appealing than the hens for some reason.
When all is said and done, I just like monkey muzzles.
Went to a local multiplex this afternoon, figuring I'd see whatever wasn't sold out. I mention this little factoid as it clearly reflects the state of my expectations, or lack thereof...
As I was in a bit of a time crunch, Space Chimps promised to be a perfect combination of available, brief, and underadvertised; it fulfilled that promise. The audience was sparse, the laughter seemed primarily to come from me, (but I've been away from consistent film viewing for some time now,) but I found it a pleasant way to ease back into experiencing a theatrical airing of a movie.
Having just read the Yahoo reviews submitted by other viewers, I cannot help but notice how much the reviews remind me of the political rhetorc airing daily on CNN. There seems to be a very hard division between lovers and haters of this film, and I suspect I know where the lline lies.
I confess I understand why there are those who say all the characters were a bit annoying, even as I understand those who found the film to be cute. On the one hand, I love monkeys: I've never seen an entire group without at least one class clown and an appreciative audience within said gathering; on the other hand, I can see how those unable to ignore the anthropomorphizing simply want to slap the protagonist silly, get the girl drunk to loosen her up a bit and get the rod out of her rectum, and drop the stud muffin monkey into the nearest deepest pit. And yes, Jeff Daniels' villainous character is written with the depth of Dudley Doright's Dishonest John. But seriously, what can one expect going into a movie rated G? The ones I question are the ones who had problems with the language used.
Granted, the puns are groan-worthy corny, but some people like that sort of thing; my dad does, but I don't (exactly) judge him for it. He is, after all, from a different era/mentality/world than the one in which I live and move. Of course, that's a puritanical world in which sexual innuendo is picked up on highly sensitive radar that begs explanations by the innocent. While not everyone who appreciates corn will necessarily be offended by innuendo, those who will be offended won't like anything about this film.
Of course, those who dislike this film because they do not relate to or appreciate the criticism leveled at the protagonist's behavior are not those who will be offended by the innuendo. If anything, they will find the references too tame by far. In fact, there was one and only one comment that caused me to do a doubletake because it seemed so out of keeping with the general tone otherwise maintained throughout the film.
I think what irritated me more was that the protagonist's manifestations of the chip on his shoulder seemed all too real to me. Such characters are alive and well in our society, much too well. They strut and preen, show off and mouth off, and it's all considered normal, acceptable, conventional. The film dealt with this and all other problems much as has the Road Runner over the years. If one sympathizes with Wile E. Coyote or even merely abhors RR's violent solutions, one will find SC less than amusing.
Another way of looking at it, I think, is that this is reminiscent of Mel Gibson's Chicken Run, though I found the chimps more appealing than the hens for some reason.
When all is said and done, I just like monkey muzzles.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Mad for More
Back to the Movies and it's been a delight. Got to see the fourth installment of Indiana Jones proved to be an attempted handoff to the next generation, something someone should suggest to Sylvester Stallone...
Handoff or not, formulaic or not, the film was satisfactory. It probably didn't hurt that I hadn't been in a theater since last year, but there you go. The pacing was swift, the dialogue punny, the situations ridiculous, the resolutions campy. What more can one ask of an Indy film?
Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, on the other hand, was so very highly touted and I had such great expectations of it. On the eve of my viewing, I was reliably informed that the new lead is tres cute, though way older... 26 or something like that... (tried to keep a straight face, really). True, there were two epic battles instead of just one: one for failure and one for success, as is proper for apprentices succeeding passing masters. Yes, young though William Moseley may be, this was, indeed, the passing of High King Peter the Magnificent, whose suffix should perhaps be omitted, as his sister so wisely suggests... I do think that the tension between Peter and Caspian is better illustrated in the film than I felt was fleshed out in the text, though again, it's been awhile since I've read the book. I particularly liked the mostly silent Edmund, who is growing up quite nicely, I think. Certainly he is far more intriguing silent than is the oh so virtuous and disgustingly righteous Lucy, whom I adore in the books and despise in this film - too much of a know-it-all this time around, for my taste. Can't say I was all that keen on Susan, either, though no doubt was left that she and Caspian had a non-thing going pretty hot and heavy... Too bad Tumnus is long gone - that MacAvoy had a nice, furry torso... Still, Reepicheep ... well, he's cuter in the book, too, though not by much. And who could help loving the DLF? Eh... Still, I did feel compelled to watch he first installment next day, just to refix my focus. Fun stuff.
What's next? Not sure, but definitely an air-conditioned theater is preferable in this heavy laden heat...
Handoff or not, formulaic or not, the film was satisfactory. It probably didn't hurt that I hadn't been in a theater since last year, but there you go. The pacing was swift, the dialogue punny, the situations ridiculous, the resolutions campy. What more can one ask of an Indy film?
Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, on the other hand, was so very highly touted and I had such great expectations of it. On the eve of my viewing, I was reliably informed that the new lead is tres cute, though way older... 26 or something like that... (tried to keep a straight face, really). True, there were two epic battles instead of just one: one for failure and one for success, as is proper for apprentices succeeding passing masters. Yes, young though William Moseley may be, this was, indeed, the passing of High King Peter the Magnificent, whose suffix should perhaps be omitted, as his sister so wisely suggests... I do think that the tension between Peter and Caspian is better illustrated in the film than I felt was fleshed out in the text, though again, it's been awhile since I've read the book. I particularly liked the mostly silent Edmund, who is growing up quite nicely, I think. Certainly he is far more intriguing silent than is the oh so virtuous and disgustingly righteous Lucy, whom I adore in the books and despise in this film - too much of a know-it-all this time around, for my taste. Can't say I was all that keen on Susan, either, though no doubt was left that she and Caspian had a non-thing going pretty hot and heavy... Too bad Tumnus is long gone - that MacAvoy had a nice, furry torso... Still, Reepicheep ... well, he's cuter in the book, too, though not by much. And who could help loving the DLF? Eh... Still, I did feel compelled to watch he first installment next day, just to refix my focus. Fun stuff.
What's next? Not sure, but definitely an air-conditioned theater is preferable in this heavy laden heat...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Another Month
Another month has passed and much has happened.
Gas prices have gone through the roof, causing people finally to reconsider transportation alternatives, especially here in the good old U.S. of A. Let's face facts, though: if I was a poor cyclist before, impecuniousness is not going to improve my balance. So I guess it's back to the pedes God gave me, though they don't work quite as well as of yore, if perhaps as well as when I first received them over half a century ago...
Natural disasters have struck around the globe, from Myanmar and China to the American Midwest and most recently, California. If the cost of the California wildfire down Santa Cruz way has risen to some $10 million and there are over 34 million people residing in the state, isn't that less than 50 cents per person? Or is that not an appropriate way of thinking of the matter?
Daniel Radcliffe was evidently featured on the Rachael Ray talk show this morning, but I didn't get the memo until the last five minutes of the show, during which she was demonstrating the virtues of a warehouse-purchased pot roast dinner in these fiscally trying times...
Rambling does, indeed, seem to be what I am doing here today...
Checked out Facebook... found some addictive word games... sure wish I knew how to link all my blogs so that I don't have to keep thinking of different things to say for each... Something tells me this sort of rambling belongs on a different long-neglected blog...
Ah well...
Gas prices have gone through the roof, causing people finally to reconsider transportation alternatives, especially here in the good old U.S. of A. Let's face facts, though: if I was a poor cyclist before, impecuniousness is not going to improve my balance. So I guess it's back to the pedes God gave me, though they don't work quite as well as of yore, if perhaps as well as when I first received them over half a century ago...
Natural disasters have struck around the globe, from Myanmar and China to the American Midwest and most recently, California. If the cost of the California wildfire down Santa Cruz way has risen to some $10 million and there are over 34 million people residing in the state, isn't that less than 50 cents per person? Or is that not an appropriate way of thinking of the matter?
Daniel Radcliffe was evidently featured on the Rachael Ray talk show this morning, but I didn't get the memo until the last five minutes of the show, during which she was demonstrating the virtues of a warehouse-purchased pot roast dinner in these fiscally trying times...
Rambling does, indeed, seem to be what I am doing here today...
Checked out Facebook... found some addictive word games... sure wish I knew how to link all my blogs so that I don't have to keep thinking of different things to say for each... Something tells me this sort of rambling belongs on a different long-neglected blog...
Ah well...
Monday, April 28, 2008
Snape's Patronus
So Snape's patronus is a Silver Doe, mate to James Potter's stag. One has to wonder how he feels when he realizes what Harry's patronus is and what is must mean about James. It makes his snide comment to Tonks even more ironic, though perhaps his sneer is as much for himself as for her.
Clearly Severus has never been able to get over his infatuation for Lily, the young neighborhood girl with whom he was able to share his delight in magic and impress with his superior knowledge. To be fair to Snape, it does seem that pretty much all the young lads were a little in love with Lily, so it wasn't just a selfish pleasure on his part. She was bright, vivacious, saucy, spunky, friendly, kind, young, and healthy. Like her son, she would probably have made a pleasant ingredient for a polyjuice potion. What more does youth want of youth?
Lily has what Severus does not: loving parents. She even has a sibling, though that does not necessarily seem to be something worthy of envy in this case... Still, young Severus is desperately alone and embattled in his emotionally and physically abusive household. Lily is the neighborhood ray of sunlight in his otherwise dark world. That he should cling to her even beyond her death is both sad and understandable. That he should be willing to sacrifice what is left of his life to protect her son, even one spawned of his most hated rival and enemy, says as much about the wretchedness of his life as it does about his valor and love for her.
The fact that Snape has a female patronus invites yet another line of thinking, though I do not wish to tread down any unworthy path here. Instead of going down the demeaning stereotypical interpretation of weakness at sight of his feminine patronus as Voldemort surely would have, I think, rather, that it is reflective of the ferocity of his protectiveness of Harry, deep down, despite all outward appearances to the contrary. There is, after all, no creature fiercer in nature than a mother protecting her young, as witnessed in Molly Weasley's duel with Bellatrix LeStrange. That same ferocity is evident in Snape's defense of Harry in spite of the youth's antagonism and the suspicions of the Dark Lord's minions.
One might leap to argue with the characterization of fierce here, but let me explain. Being an effective double agent requires a very special personality, one capable of duplicity at the deepest levels. This comes at a great price, however, for such a person can never fully, clearly, believably reveal self to others, any more than a chameleon can resist nature's demand to change in each new environment. Despite this, Snape remains true to his very death, only giving in to his desire to gaze into his love's eyes in the face of her son as he is breathing his last and giving up his oh so closely guarded secrets and memories.
Perhaps those malevolent looks Harry endures for six long years are as much Snape's desperate efforts to conceal his desire for Harry's lost mother as a reflection of his feelings for the father of whom the rest of Harry so irksomely reminds him...
Thus, the Silver Doe, and no apologies needed, except perhaps for the snip at Tonks, whose similarly evoked patronus is so much more macho... ;->
Clearly Severus has never been able to get over his infatuation for Lily, the young neighborhood girl with whom he was able to share his delight in magic and impress with his superior knowledge. To be fair to Snape, it does seem that pretty much all the young lads were a little in love with Lily, so it wasn't just a selfish pleasure on his part. She was bright, vivacious, saucy, spunky, friendly, kind, young, and healthy. Like her son, she would probably have made a pleasant ingredient for a polyjuice potion. What more does youth want of youth?
Lily has what Severus does not: loving parents. She even has a sibling, though that does not necessarily seem to be something worthy of envy in this case... Still, young Severus is desperately alone and embattled in his emotionally and physically abusive household. Lily is the neighborhood ray of sunlight in his otherwise dark world. That he should cling to her even beyond her death is both sad and understandable. That he should be willing to sacrifice what is left of his life to protect her son, even one spawned of his most hated rival and enemy, says as much about the wretchedness of his life as it does about his valor and love for her.
The fact that Snape has a female patronus invites yet another line of thinking, though I do not wish to tread down any unworthy path here. Instead of going down the demeaning stereotypical interpretation of weakness at sight of his feminine patronus as Voldemort surely would have, I think, rather, that it is reflective of the ferocity of his protectiveness of Harry, deep down, despite all outward appearances to the contrary. There is, after all, no creature fiercer in nature than a mother protecting her young, as witnessed in Molly Weasley's duel with Bellatrix LeStrange. That same ferocity is evident in Snape's defense of Harry in spite of the youth's antagonism and the suspicions of the Dark Lord's minions.
One might leap to argue with the characterization of fierce here, but let me explain. Being an effective double agent requires a very special personality, one capable of duplicity at the deepest levels. This comes at a great price, however, for such a person can never fully, clearly, believably reveal self to others, any more than a chameleon can resist nature's demand to change in each new environment. Despite this, Snape remains true to his very death, only giving in to his desire to gaze into his love's eyes in the face of her son as he is breathing his last and giving up his oh so closely guarded secrets and memories.
Perhaps those malevolent looks Harry endures for six long years are as much Snape's desperate efforts to conceal his desire for Harry's lost mother as a reflection of his feelings for the father of whom the rest of Harry so irksomely reminds him...
Thus, the Silver Doe, and no apologies needed, except perhaps for the snip at Tonks, whose similarly evoked patronus is so much more macho... ;->
Sunday, April 27, 2008
HP Immersion
Has it only been 2 1/2 weeks since I dipped my head into the Harry Potter pensieve and found myself sucked into its universe once again? The total audio immersion has been a fantasy escape much needed and desired, though the periodic skips and skids of the cd recordings provided far too much unwanted intrusion from this mundane world to which I perforce now return, if ever so briefly.
I am, after all, only here to take another breath prior to resubmerging myself, this time into the video interpretation of the texts. I suspect this will only take 2-3 days, however, after which I will feel obliged to reread all the texts, having thoroughly confused myself as to which events belong to which medium.
This morning I reminisced delightedly on the reminder that the Ravenclaw dormitory requires not a password, but an astute response to a query that requires divergent thinking, or at least thinking. Hermione really would have found great pleasure in that house, though clearly she would have missed out on much fun and many physical adventures in exchange.
Okay, going back in. When I resurface, I shall probably ruminate further.
I am, after all, only here to take another breath prior to resubmerging myself, this time into the video interpretation of the texts. I suspect this will only take 2-3 days, however, after which I will feel obliged to reread all the texts, having thoroughly confused myself as to which events belong to which medium.
This morning I reminisced delightedly on the reminder that the Ravenclaw dormitory requires not a password, but an astute response to a query that requires divergent thinking, or at least thinking. Hermione really would have found great pleasure in that house, though clearly she would have missed out on much fun and many physical adventures in exchange.
Okay, going back in. When I resurface, I shall probably ruminate further.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Media Muscle Flexing
Is there any doubt as to which national presidential candidate is currently favored by the mainstream media? Not a day goes by without some sort of positive article being published, usually on the front page. This seems to be true on both paper and electronic pages, by the way.
I don't have a firm opinion regarding any particular candidate at present, though I have found myself leaning first one way, then another, as the campaign has wound its way up and down the length and breadth of this geographically vast nation of ours. What I do have a firm opinion about, however, is that I do not care to be railroaded by blatant shouting. I confess my hackles are going up as a sense of claustrophobia from perceived herding continues to assail me. Perhaps I should stop reading so much, though if I do that, how will I ever make up my already too malleable mind?
I suppose if I start scouring a greater variety of news sources, I'll start getting more varied perspectives. Perhaps greater confusion will ultimately lead me to some sense of clarity. At present, viewing the candidates puts me in mind of selecting produce: with so many similarities, how does one determine what is truly under the skin without peeling something open?
I don't have a firm opinion regarding any particular candidate at present, though I have found myself leaning first one way, then another, as the campaign has wound its way up and down the length and breadth of this geographically vast nation of ours. What I do have a firm opinion about, however, is that I do not care to be railroaded by blatant shouting. I confess my hackles are going up as a sense of claustrophobia from perceived herding continues to assail me. Perhaps I should stop reading so much, though if I do that, how will I ever make up my already too malleable mind?
I suppose if I start scouring a greater variety of news sources, I'll start getting more varied perspectives. Perhaps greater confusion will ultimately lead me to some sense of clarity. At present, viewing the candidates puts me in mind of selecting produce: with so many similarities, how does one determine what is truly under the skin without peeling something open?
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Fleeing Flights
First Aloha Airlines goes belly up, then ATA swiftly follows, both citing rising fuel costs as part of the problem. Now the FAA's crackdown on safety inspections is causing American Airlines to cancel flights en masse. What's a commuter to do?
On the mainland, there are still trains, buses, and automobiles as alternative means of transportation, but here in the islands there is an increasing concern (at least in this locale) about the distinct possibility of being stranded on an undeserted island in the middle of the Pacific. What does that mean?
Like Gilligan's famous enclave, there are positives and negatives galore to this scenario. The weather is warm, the people are friendly... sort of... and the food is some of the best in the world, at least for this palate. On the other hand, my cats are "over there."
As this airline war of attrition continues and fuel prices mock would-be travelers, highlighting the failure of the outgoing administration to adequately address an issue that has been identified for most of my life, alternatives seem to be fast fading. Time has become a critical factor.
Where is Mighty Mouse when you need him to save the day? Or Underdog, for that matter? Auwe!
On the mainland, there are still trains, buses, and automobiles as alternative means of transportation, but here in the islands there is an increasing concern (at least in this locale) about the distinct possibility of being stranded on an undeserted island in the middle of the Pacific. What does that mean?
Like Gilligan's famous enclave, there are positives and negatives galore to this scenario. The weather is warm, the people are friendly... sort of... and the food is some of the best in the world, at least for this palate. On the other hand, my cats are "over there."
As this airline war of attrition continues and fuel prices mock would-be travelers, highlighting the failure of the outgoing administration to adequately address an issue that has been identified for most of my life, alternatives seem to be fast fading. Time has become a critical factor.
Where is Mighty Mouse when you need him to save the day? Or Underdog, for that matter? Auwe!
Thursday, April 03, 2008
New Bond Film Raises Old Issue
Yes, Daniel Craig has breathed fresh life into one of my favorite franchises that had gone seriously stale. For this I am grateful. The casting of Craig, however, may have been one of the few things the producers have done right in far too long.
The link above leads to an article about a mayor of a small rural town in Chile who drove onto one of the sets for the upcoming Bond film. The very first thing that struck me was the number and quality of the qualifications laid on this man before the article even got underway:
Yes, he is a mayor. That should suffice. Why is it necessary to indicate that the town is small? Why should it matter that it is rural? Does this reflect on the film? No, it belittles the man. To what end?
The title of the article titillates, the adjectives add fuel to the intended fire, and what should be the heart of the matter is buried so far down the article that many readers will, in all likelihood, never get there.
So what is the point? Yes, I seem to have buried it as well... The point is that this public official was making a political protest over the all too common practice of using one country's scenic locales to depict those of another country. The problem here is that this particular piece of land has been the bone of contention between two neighboring countries for over a century. How is it that the filmmakers failed to know this? Did they knowingly proceed? Somehow that seems worse, the willful fanning of controversial political flames.
A second point, more than merely secondary, is that the increased police presence in the town because of filming is reminiscent of one of the bloodiest and most brutal dictatorships in recent Chilean history. Again, the filmmakers seem callously, arrogantly oblivious of the society in which they are working as guests.
How is it that foreign filmmakers carry such clout that a man of such stature as a local mayor should be treated as a common criminal by police officers acting merely as hired security? In the United States, they would be off duty, moonlighting, without the authority necessary to arrest intruders. They would simply be present to deter or detain, as need be. True, Chile is not the U.S., and even in this country no one is above the law, but since when is protecting a film set license to oppress others, as this mayor has described? Of course, since when does a public official feel the need to make a spectacle of himself in order to make a point? Oh wait... I can answer that one...
The link above leads to an article about a mayor of a small rural town in Chile who drove onto one of the sets for the upcoming Bond film. The very first thing that struck me was the number and quality of the qualifications laid on this man before the article even got underway:
Yes, he is a mayor. That should suffice. Why is it necessary to indicate that the town is small? Why should it matter that it is rural? Does this reflect on the film? No, it belittles the man. To what end?
The title of the article titillates, the adjectives add fuel to the intended fire, and what should be the heart of the matter is buried so far down the article that many readers will, in all likelihood, never get there.
So what is the point? Yes, I seem to have buried it as well... The point is that this public official was making a political protest over the all too common practice of using one country's scenic locales to depict those of another country. The problem here is that this particular piece of land has been the bone of contention between two neighboring countries for over a century. How is it that the filmmakers failed to know this? Did they knowingly proceed? Somehow that seems worse, the willful fanning of controversial political flames.
A second point, more than merely secondary, is that the increased police presence in the town because of filming is reminiscent of one of the bloodiest and most brutal dictatorships in recent Chilean history. Again, the filmmakers seem callously, arrogantly oblivious of the society in which they are working as guests.
How is it that foreign filmmakers carry such clout that a man of such stature as a local mayor should be treated as a common criminal by police officers acting merely as hired security? In the United States, they would be off duty, moonlighting, without the authority necessary to arrest intruders. They would simply be present to deter or detain, as need be. True, Chile is not the U.S., and even in this country no one is above the law, but since when is protecting a film set license to oppress others, as this mayor has described? Of course, since when does a public official feel the need to make a spectacle of himself in order to make a point? Oh wait... I can answer that one...
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Fictionalized Bios
I confess: Kate Winslet does absolutely nothing for me in James Cameron's Titanic. Perhaps it's all that distracting water everywhere, or perhaps it's that I just don't buy the young di Caprio as a romantic lead. Whatever the reason, I've never really understood all the acclaim the actress has received over the years. Thus, I went into the viewing of Finding Neverland with expectations only of Johnny Depp, who has yet to disappoint me. It's always good, at least for me, to go in with muted expectations - Finding Neverland blew me away.
Depp, of course, does not disappoint, though Dustin Hoffman, as he so often does, offers such a marvelously quiet, matter-of-fact performance that I had to think about it to appreciate it properly. And I love to watch young boys at play, regardless of their ages, so that was fun. Freddie Highmore in particular was a pleasure to watch. It's not at all difficult to wonder why the Screen Actors Guild nominated his performance. It's a pity that his role conflates some of the brothers and is not, in fact, factual. Ah well...
Winslet was a surprise for me. I think I've always seen her as more matronly than anything else, so this role works well. Not being distracted by physical incongruities, I was finally able to appreciate what she brings to the performance itself. My bad; she's really good. Newsflash to self...
Julie Christie has come a long way from Lara to characters such as Rosmerta and the du Maurier here. She, too, is now able to provide nuanced performances without so much external physical distraction, though in her case, she remains a striking presence.
Perfect Stranger, on the other hand, the Halle Berry/Bruce Willis vehicle that also features Giovanni Ribisi, is narrative fictionalization, and it is mind-blowing in its own way, reminiscent of Hitchcock's favored narratives. I feel an idiot for not having seen the denouement coming sooner, but it was a fun ride, nevertheless.
Must exercise more with Brain games...
I do find it interesting that Halle Berry, a stunningly beautiful woman, has chosen to do so many psychological thrillers that present her as a vulnerable woman who is actually so very deadly. Interesting...
Depp, of course, does not disappoint, though Dustin Hoffman, as he so often does, offers such a marvelously quiet, matter-of-fact performance that I had to think about it to appreciate it properly. And I love to watch young boys at play, regardless of their ages, so that was fun. Freddie Highmore in particular was a pleasure to watch. It's not at all difficult to wonder why the Screen Actors Guild nominated his performance. It's a pity that his role conflates some of the brothers and is not, in fact, factual. Ah well...
Winslet was a surprise for me. I think I've always seen her as more matronly than anything else, so this role works well. Not being distracted by physical incongruities, I was finally able to appreciate what she brings to the performance itself. My bad; she's really good. Newsflash to self...
Julie Christie has come a long way from Lara to characters such as Rosmerta and the du Maurier here. She, too, is now able to provide nuanced performances without so much external physical distraction, though in her case, she remains a striking presence.
Perfect Stranger, on the other hand, the Halle Berry/Bruce Willis vehicle that also features Giovanni Ribisi, is narrative fictionalization, and it is mind-blowing in its own way, reminiscent of Hitchcock's favored narratives. I feel an idiot for not having seen the denouement coming sooner, but it was a fun ride, nevertheless.
Must exercise more with Brain games...
I do find it interesting that Halle Berry, a stunningly beautiful woman, has chosen to do so many psychological thrillers that present her as a vulnerable woman who is actually so very deadly. Interesting...
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
For Shannon
To those of us who have children in our lives,
whether they are our own,
grandchildren,
nieces,
nephews,
or students...
here is something to make you chuckle.
Whenever your children are out of control,
you can take comfort from the thought that
even God's omnipotence did not extend
to His own children.
After creating heaven and earth,
God created Adam and Eve.
And the first thing he said was
" DON'T !"
"Don 't what ? "
Adam replied.
"Don't eat the forbidden fruit."
God said.
"Forbidden fruit ?
We have forbidden fruit ?
Hey Eve..we have forbidden fruit ! "
" No Way ! "
"Yes way ! "
"Do NOT eat the fruit ! "
said God.
"Why ? "
"Because I am your Father and I said so ! "
God replied,
wondering why He hadn't stopped
creation after making the elephants
A few minutes later,
God saw His children having an apple break
and He was ticked !
"Didn't I tell you not to eat the fruit ? "
God asked.
"Uh huh,"
Adam replied.
"Then why did you ? "
said the Father.
"I don't know,"
said Eve.
"She started it ! "
Adam said.
"Did not ! "
"Did too ! "
"DID NOT ! "
Having had it with the two of them,
God's punishment was that Adam and Eve
should have children of their own.
Thus the pattern was set and it has never changed.
If you have persistently and lovingly tried to give children wisdom and they haven't taken it,
don't be hard on yourself.
If God had trouble raising children,
what makes you think it would be
a piece of cake for you ?
THINGS TO THINK ABOUT !
1. You spend the first two years of their life
teaching them to walk and talk. Then you spend
the next sixteen telling them to sit down and shut up.
2. Grandchildren are God's reward
for not killing your own children.
3. Mothers of teens now know why
some animals eat their young.
4. Children seldom misquote you.
In fact,
they usually repeat word for word
what you shouldn't have said
5. The main purpose of holding children's parties
is to remind yourself that there are children
more awful than your own
6. We childproofed our homes,
but they are still getting in.
ADVICE FOR THE DAY:
Be nice to your kids.
They will choose your
nursing home one day
AND FINALLY:
IF YOU HAVE A LOT OF TENSION
AND YOU GET A HEADACHE,
DO WHAT IT SAYS
ON THE ASPIRIN BOTTLE:
"TAKE TWO ASPIRIN"
AND "KEEP AWAY FROM CHILDREN"!!!!!
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Apocalyptic Aversions
Finally got back to Netflix vidding, this time The Last Mimsy, which seems to combine a number of sources.
The opening sequence put me forcibly in mind of Jumanji. I couldn't help remembering the end and wondering about children and things who come together via the waves of an ocean. As the story unfolded, however, I was relieved to find that there were no stampeding animals emerging from a cool gadget that tended to emit intriguing geometric shapes. I like lines and designs, so that was all fine by me, if less than riveting.
There was one scene where I really appreciated Timothy Hutton as the dad, though this role really was no challenge for the potential he once promised under Robert Redford's direction. There seemed, in fact, to be a fair few talented adults wandering through this film as backdrop to the featured children. I guess that's standard fare these days...
As the tale's ending neared, I was put forcibly in mind of John Varley's Millenium, primarily because of the heavy-handed anti-pollution push being made. I did like the disrobing of the futuristic folk, which was kind of ironic in light of the male protagonist's heavy reliance on arachnid-related characteristics...
I did like the connections to Lewis Carroll's classic works. I have to wonder how familiar today's youth (or even their parents) are with those tales...
While I enjoyed the film, I am not surprised that it didn't smash box offices.
The opening sequence put me forcibly in mind of Jumanji. I couldn't help remembering the end and wondering about children and things who come together via the waves of an ocean. As the story unfolded, however, I was relieved to find that there were no stampeding animals emerging from a cool gadget that tended to emit intriguing geometric shapes. I like lines and designs, so that was all fine by me, if less than riveting.
There was one scene where I really appreciated Timothy Hutton as the dad, though this role really was no challenge for the potential he once promised under Robert Redford's direction. There seemed, in fact, to be a fair few talented adults wandering through this film as backdrop to the featured children. I guess that's standard fare these days...
As the tale's ending neared, I was put forcibly in mind of John Varley's Millenium, primarily because of the heavy-handed anti-pollution push being made. I did like the disrobing of the futuristic folk, which was kind of ironic in light of the male protagonist's heavy reliance on arachnid-related characteristics...
I did like the connections to Lewis Carroll's classic works. I have to wonder how familiar today's youth (or even their parents) are with those tales...
While I enjoyed the film, I am not surprised that it didn't smash box offices.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
For Trent
A cleric was completing a temperance sermon. With great emphasis he said, 'If I had all the beer in the world, I'd take it and pour it into the river.'
With even greater emphasis he said, 'And if I had
All the wine in the world, I'd take it and pour it into the river.'
And then finally, shaking his fist in the air, he said, 'And if I had all the whiskey in the world, I'd take it and pour it into the river.'
Sermon complete, he sat down.
The song leader stood very cautiously and announced with a smile, nearly laughing, 'For our closing song, let us sing Hymn #365, 'Shall We Gather at the River.'
Smile, life is too short not to !!
See you at the river.
Monday, March 03, 2008
Communication
This morning I found myself in the midst of a raging knockdown dragout fight not of my making nor, I thought, with my willful participation. I did, however, note that my voice had, indeed, somehow increased in volume, evidently of its own volition. As I heard myself shouting the accusation that the other participant was not even listening to what I was trying to say, a voice inside my head asked what seemed a telling question: Who's fault is that? On whom does the responsibility fall for the comprehension of an intended message? That pulled me up short.
As a child of pugilistic inclination, I spent much of my early life in argumentation, serenely secure in the certainty that any and all misunderstandings and failures of comprehension lay at the feet of my ignorant antagonists. Clearly it was their shortcomings, not my inarticulacy that lay at the heart of their patent inability to grasp obvious points.
As a teacher of composition, on the other hand, I equally clearly remember adjuring my students to identify and clearly analyze their intended audience. Failure to grasp the intended message, I assured them, is the fault of the sender, not the receiver. The onus of understanding lies with the author, not with the reader.
It's only taken me a few decades to work out the fundamental problem with these two assertions. Epiphany, however, never comes too late in life, if perhaps too late for so very many missed opportunities in life...
You, dear reader, are having no difficulty following all this, are you?
As a child of pugilistic inclination, I spent much of my early life in argumentation, serenely secure in the certainty that any and all misunderstandings and failures of comprehension lay at the feet of my ignorant antagonists. Clearly it was their shortcomings, not my inarticulacy that lay at the heart of their patent inability to grasp obvious points.
As a teacher of composition, on the other hand, I equally clearly remember adjuring my students to identify and clearly analyze their intended audience. Failure to grasp the intended message, I assured them, is the fault of the sender, not the receiver. The onus of understanding lies with the author, not with the reader.
It's only taken me a few decades to work out the fundamental problem with these two assertions. Epiphany, however, never comes too late in life, if perhaps too late for so very many missed opportunities in life...
You, dear reader, are having no difficulty following all this, are you?
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Farewell February
Ah, February, I shall miss thee!
February is my favorite month, possibly because I take the whole thing for my own. It is a time for celebration, a time when the birthdays of two presidents bracket what used to be the most segmented time of the school year.
Ah, how I used to hate third quarter! It was (still is) such a dark, bleak time of year. In the midst of this depression, however, two of the United States' most well-known and influential past presidents were born, and their birthdays made for consecutive four-day weeks, hard on the heels of Christmas vacation and presaging Easter Break. Of course, we no longer celebrate either birthday, except with crass commercial sales, nor do we take a break for Easter, that time period having been demoted to mere Spring Break. (Where's the fun in counting off to see whether or not Good Friday and Easter Monday will make an extra four-day weekend? Gone, alas. Ah well...)
Now, in the name of symmetry and balance and predictability and equality (so many sophistries,) we rightly honor Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in January, but we have condensed and combined the birthdays of Abraham Lincoln and George Washington into one blanket day dedicated to the honor of all presidents (or is that just those who have served the U.S. on a national level?) In any event, the net result is just another monthly three-day weekend that far too many neither recognize nor understand. It's just another excuse for sales, overtime, and socializing. (Who's being cynical?)
So I persevere in my remembrances throughout February. . . Okay, so I also take time off for my own birth celebrations - is that so wrong? Evidently.
Cosmic justice has decreed that the specific date of my birth has become the optimum date within the month of February for holding memorial services celebrating the lives of those who have recently moved on to another plane of existence (or non-existence, as the case may be...) The rest of the month is quite reasonably useful for recovering from the various strains of innoculation-resistant flu circulating in the deepest, darkest days of winter, even in balmy tropical and subtropical regions. Lest the other days feel neglected, they, too, are useful for interments and other similarly related activities. Ah, joy!
But I did get a Nintendo DS Lite, which I promptly made heavy again with excessive accessorizing. The Brain Age 2 research of Dr. Ryuta Kawashima of Japan assures me that the rust and rubble passing for gray matter that I claim to possess are of great antiquity, though recent endeavors have halved the initial assessment. Personally, I think it's a crock that favors the mathematically inclined... Wait, that's supposed to include moi... Oh well...
But time marches on, and now we are in March. Beware the Ides, some say, but is that not time for East Coast celebrations? Here's hoping that the March babies among us have happier times than those so recently passed.
Don't even worry about national caucuses and primaries that don't even include all eligible voters anyway.
February is my favorite month, possibly because I take the whole thing for my own. It is a time for celebration, a time when the birthdays of two presidents bracket what used to be the most segmented time of the school year.
Ah, how I used to hate third quarter! It was (still is) such a dark, bleak time of year. In the midst of this depression, however, two of the United States' most well-known and influential past presidents were born, and their birthdays made for consecutive four-day weeks, hard on the heels of Christmas vacation and presaging Easter Break. Of course, we no longer celebrate either birthday, except with crass commercial sales, nor do we take a break for Easter, that time period having been demoted to mere Spring Break. (Where's the fun in counting off to see whether or not Good Friday and Easter Monday will make an extra four-day weekend? Gone, alas. Ah well...)
Now, in the name of symmetry and balance and predictability and equality (so many sophistries,) we rightly honor Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in January, but we have condensed and combined the birthdays of Abraham Lincoln and George Washington into one blanket day dedicated to the honor of all presidents (or is that just those who have served the U.S. on a national level?) In any event, the net result is just another monthly three-day weekend that far too many neither recognize nor understand. It's just another excuse for sales, overtime, and socializing. (Who's being cynical?)
So I persevere in my remembrances throughout February. . . Okay, so I also take time off for my own birth celebrations - is that so wrong? Evidently.
Cosmic justice has decreed that the specific date of my birth has become the optimum date within the month of February for holding memorial services celebrating the lives of those who have recently moved on to another plane of existence (or non-existence, as the case may be...) The rest of the month is quite reasonably useful for recovering from the various strains of innoculation-resistant flu circulating in the deepest, darkest days of winter, even in balmy tropical and subtropical regions. Lest the other days feel neglected, they, too, are useful for interments and other similarly related activities. Ah, joy!
But I did get a Nintendo DS Lite, which I promptly made heavy again with excessive accessorizing. The Brain Age 2 research of Dr. Ryuta Kawashima of Japan assures me that the rust and rubble passing for gray matter that I claim to possess are of great antiquity, though recent endeavors have halved the initial assessment. Personally, I think it's a crock that favors the mathematically inclined... Wait, that's supposed to include moi... Oh well...
But time marches on, and now we are in March. Beware the Ides, some say, but is that not time for East Coast celebrations? Here's hoping that the March babies among us have happier times than those so recently passed.
Don't even worry about national caucuses and primaries that don't even include all eligible voters anyway.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Goong Hee Fat Choy
Greetings and Felicitations! Welcome to the Year of the Rat, according to the Chinese accounting of the lunar calendar.
Things are in such need of qualification these days. Sometimes I long for the days of absolute thinking, but then I think, what fun was that? Eh...
The Rat is a noble creature, bright, witty, wily - not to be confused with rodents on whom I make seasonal war about my abode... My mother was a Rat, again, not to be confused with the lackluster creatures who now torment my existence of occasion. Remember the Rats of N.I.M.H.? Remember Richard Adams' Watership Down? Now those were noble rats, admirable creatures worthy of emulation. Yes, there's nothing quite like romanticization to elevate the mundane.
Be that as it may, this should be a more optimistic, forward-thinking kind of year. Barack Obama has breathed new life into American politics. Whether or not he wins, he has already galvanized a new generation, much as did John F. Kennedy half a century ago. That's pretty cool, and it is exciting to believe that his impact will continue, even as Kennedy's influence has persisted beyond the short life of the man himself. It's also useful as we head into what promises to be an increasingly bleak economic season, more along the lines of Recession and Depression than the euphoria that has led to so much squandering of resources over the past century.
Cheers.
Things are in such need of qualification these days. Sometimes I long for the days of absolute thinking, but then I think, what fun was that? Eh...
The Rat is a noble creature, bright, witty, wily - not to be confused with rodents on whom I make seasonal war about my abode... My mother was a Rat, again, not to be confused with the lackluster creatures who now torment my existence of occasion. Remember the Rats of N.I.M.H.? Remember Richard Adams' Watership Down? Now those were noble rats, admirable creatures worthy of emulation. Yes, there's nothing quite like romanticization to elevate the mundane.
Be that as it may, this should be a more optimistic, forward-thinking kind of year. Barack Obama has breathed new life into American politics. Whether or not he wins, he has already galvanized a new generation, much as did John F. Kennedy half a century ago. That's pretty cool, and it is exciting to believe that his impact will continue, even as Kennedy's influence has persisted beyond the short life of the man himself. It's also useful as we head into what promises to be an increasingly bleak economic season, more along the lines of Recession and Depression than the euphoria that has led to so much squandering of resources over the past century.
Cheers.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Another Name
A rose by any other name . . . is still the same flower; so is a narrative set in a different locale and time period still the same story or a fresh tale with its own special twists and turns?
Finally returned to my Netflix queue today as wind, rain, and other assorted obstacles prevented a return to the increasingly enjoyable workouts. (In lieu of physical exertion, I opted for a nice hot chili sauce to induce the daily perspiration release...)
The Secret of Roan Inish looks for all the world like Frances Burnett's The Secret Garden, set in Ireland on an island instead of the Yorkshire countryside. The mystical touch is a little more pronounced, which is actually pleasant in a video experience, though I suspect I would have been less appreciative, had I first encountered it in written form. The Princess Bride-style flashbacks are perhaps the most attractive aspect of the film, or perhaps I'm just a sucker for epimethean snapshots.
All in all, the film was a pleasant diversion on a rainy day, much as the book would have been, I suspect. Let's hear it for hard work and the triumph of the agrarian way of life over that of urban squalor and rapacity.
Finally returned to my Netflix queue today as wind, rain, and other assorted obstacles prevented a return to the increasingly enjoyable workouts. (In lieu of physical exertion, I opted for a nice hot chili sauce to induce the daily perspiration release...)
The Secret of Roan Inish looks for all the world like Frances Burnett's The Secret Garden, set in Ireland on an island instead of the Yorkshire countryside. The mystical touch is a little more pronounced, which is actually pleasant in a video experience, though I suspect I would have been less appreciative, had I first encountered it in written form. The Princess Bride-style flashbacks are perhaps the most attractive aspect of the film, or perhaps I'm just a sucker for epimethean snapshots.
All in all, the film was a pleasant diversion on a rainy day, much as the book would have been, I suspect. Let's hear it for hard work and the triumph of the agrarian way of life over that of urban squalor and rapacity.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Exercise Attention
Should one concentrate on the task at hand when exercising, or is allowing one's mind to wander to videos and music more beneficial? While experts suggest that concentration is more beneficial and coaches universally agree, the casual athlete might think otherwise. After all, if one is not (or has not been) particularly serious about working out, then something is definitely needed to ease the transition into what can only be described as the monotonous repetition necessary, especially in weight training or with the use of equipment designed to enhance one's cardiovascular fitness.
True, a good coach or trainer will provide variety, and a truly dedicated athlete can generally find various aspects of the activities and personal development on which to concentrate. For the casual individual, however, for those working out for the ends, not the activity itself, distraction can actually prolong what is already initially a haphazard effort. In such a case, any effort has to be better than no effort.
This, clearly, is the premise on which so many accessories are sold. There are an ever-increasing number of flavors of iPods from which to choose, in addition to the proliferation of other mp3 players. There are the banks of television monitors mounted in health clubs. There is the ever present background music that alternately thumps and soothes its way into every crevice and cranny at the clubs. Then there are the garments, the towels, the gloves and belts, the carrying cases, even the water bottles just across from the beverage dispensing machines.
Yes, indeed, as with all things, there are plenty of ways to throw money at exercise without ever actually exerting oneself. Why concentrate?
True, a good coach or trainer will provide variety, and a truly dedicated athlete can generally find various aspects of the activities and personal development on which to concentrate. For the casual individual, however, for those working out for the ends, not the activity itself, distraction can actually prolong what is already initially a haphazard effort. In such a case, any effort has to be better than no effort.
This, clearly, is the premise on which so many accessories are sold. There are an ever-increasing number of flavors of iPods from which to choose, in addition to the proliferation of other mp3 players. There are the banks of television monitors mounted in health clubs. There is the ever present background music that alternately thumps and soothes its way into every crevice and cranny at the clubs. Then there are the garments, the towels, the gloves and belts, the carrying cases, even the water bottles just across from the beverage dispensing machines.
Yes, indeed, as with all things, there are plenty of ways to throw money at exercise without ever actually exerting oneself. Why concentrate?
Monday, January 21, 2008
A Moment of Triumph, and then...
So to the ongoing saga of the mailbox and pole...
You've heard the ethnic joke about the telephone company workers, haven't you?
Three teams of telephone company workers head out on the day's assignment: to erect new poles prior to the stringing of new lines in a subdivision under development. At the end of the day, each team reports back in with the number of poles completed. Bear in mind that the term for erecting such a pole is "burying the pole".
Team #1 returns and reports to the foreperson:
"How many poles did you guys bury?"
"An even dozen."
"Excellent."
Half an hour later Team #2 returns and reports in:
"How many poles did you guys bury?"
"15."
"Even better. Okay, see you guys tomorrow."
An hour later Team #3 finally drags in. The foreperson is pretty upset by now and starts right in yelling:
"What took you guys so long? Everyone else has been back for over an hour? You better have a great report. So how many poles did you guys get buried?"
The leader of Team #3 (fill in any ethnic or socioeconomic group you prefer) replies, "2."
The foreperson is about to blow a gasket. The cursing and swearing flow freely. Somewhere amidst the barrage of sound are the words, "You're fired."
At this the leader of Team #3 interrupts the tirade to defend himself and his team:
"But you should see how much the other guys left above ground!"
So: For myself, my pole only took four days and four hours to dig down 21", figure out how to attach everything, and pour my bag of Quikcrete without cementing myself in the process. Unlike my unfortunate friends described above, I left a little over 3' above ground, the requirement being 41" - 45" from the ground to the base of the box. Curiously, I think everyone else has been measuring from the top of the box, yet I have heard of no complaints. We'll see what tomorrow brings...
Meanwhile, I've lost a bit of water weight - dehydration, I'm thinking. The temper finally flared today, so I took myself off the to the gym to work it out, which seemed to help, at least until I returned... Ah well...
Too much information. :-0
You've heard the ethnic joke about the telephone company workers, haven't you?
Three teams of telephone company workers head out on the day's assignment: to erect new poles prior to the stringing of new lines in a subdivision under development. At the end of the day, each team reports back in with the number of poles completed. Bear in mind that the term for erecting such a pole is "burying the pole".
Team #1 returns and reports to the foreperson:
"How many poles did you guys bury?"
"An even dozen."
"Excellent."
Half an hour later Team #2 returns and reports in:
"How many poles did you guys bury?"
"15."
"Even better. Okay, see you guys tomorrow."
An hour later Team #3 finally drags in. The foreperson is pretty upset by now and starts right in yelling:
"What took you guys so long? Everyone else has been back for over an hour? You better have a great report. So how many poles did you guys get buried?"
The leader of Team #3 (fill in any ethnic or socioeconomic group you prefer) replies, "2."
The foreperson is about to blow a gasket. The cursing and swearing flow freely. Somewhere amidst the barrage of sound are the words, "You're fired."
At this the leader of Team #3 interrupts the tirade to defend himself and his team:
"But you should see how much the other guys left above ground!"
So: For myself, my pole only took four days and four hours to dig down 21", figure out how to attach everything, and pour my bag of Quikcrete without cementing myself in the process. Unlike my unfortunate friends described above, I left a little over 3' above ground, the requirement being 41" - 45" from the ground to the base of the box. Curiously, I think everyone else has been measuring from the top of the box, yet I have heard of no complaints. We'll see what tomorrow brings...
Meanwhile, I've lost a bit of water weight - dehydration, I'm thinking. The temper finally flared today, so I took myself off the to the gym to work it out, which seemed to help, at least until I returned... Ah well...
Too much information. :-0
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Plantings
January is a great time to till soil and plant seeds, or so I've thought for the better part of two decades. This year, however, is already starting off just a wee bit different...
When one goes to the trouble of acquiring a newspaper tube, one generally expects it to be used for the delivery of one's newspaper. That seems reasonable, doesn't it? If, however, one neglects or forgets to gift one's carrier with a seasonal remembrance, does that then mean that one's paper is more likely to land on the driveway than in the tube? Evidently.
Successive days of calling to comment, (not complain, exactly...) resulted not in the paper finding its way into the tube, but the entire mailbox apparatus ending up on the ground. I make no accusations here; merely note the proximity of events: paper on driveway, call to management, pole on ground. Granted, there has been much rain of late, and the pole seems to have rusted through at ground level, not something easily achieved with galvanized piping.
Be that as it may, the end result has been that the past two days have been spent scouring the island for materials to replicate a 1950s-style setup. Yesterday I enthusiastically dug out my trusty pick axe and began to uproot the remnants of the old pole, only to find, (as I should have expected, had I had any experience in the matter,) a lovely concrete base. Ah, another excuse to head for the store instead of continuing the project at hand...
A haircut, gas station stop, soil and amendments purchase, and tasty forbidden lunch stop later, all supplies were assembled, though the setting sun suggested that the actual burying of the pole and erection of the new mailbox must await yet another sunrise.
So Dad's sleeping in this morning...
And the paper was in the middle of the driveway again...
And the old pole remains on the ground while the new pole rides around in the car...
Yes, planting season is here, but I think the wrong one is rooted...
When one goes to the trouble of acquiring a newspaper tube, one generally expects it to be used for the delivery of one's newspaper. That seems reasonable, doesn't it? If, however, one neglects or forgets to gift one's carrier with a seasonal remembrance, does that then mean that one's paper is more likely to land on the driveway than in the tube? Evidently.
Successive days of calling to comment, (not complain, exactly...) resulted not in the paper finding its way into the tube, but the entire mailbox apparatus ending up on the ground. I make no accusations here; merely note the proximity of events: paper on driveway, call to management, pole on ground. Granted, there has been much rain of late, and the pole seems to have rusted through at ground level, not something easily achieved with galvanized piping.
Be that as it may, the end result has been that the past two days have been spent scouring the island for materials to replicate a 1950s-style setup. Yesterday I enthusiastically dug out my trusty pick axe and began to uproot the remnants of the old pole, only to find, (as I should have expected, had I had any experience in the matter,) a lovely concrete base. Ah, another excuse to head for the store instead of continuing the project at hand...
A haircut, gas station stop, soil and amendments purchase, and tasty forbidden lunch stop later, all supplies were assembled, though the setting sun suggested that the actual burying of the pole and erection of the new mailbox must await yet another sunrise.
So Dad's sleeping in this morning...
And the paper was in the middle of the driveway again...
And the old pole remains on the ground while the new pole rides around in the car...
Yes, planting season is here, but I think the wrong one is rooted...
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Five Things
Five Things
I was tagged by Shannon (last year, Dec. 9, to be exact, but I only just saw it,) and now I have to do this:If you have been tagged, please follow these rules:
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. Share 5 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 5 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
Four rules for 5 facts: I should be able to handle this... does that count as one yet?
1. I've been neglecting my blogs and all forms of writing, for that matter, since I returned to Hawaii to check on Dad, which is odd, since
2. Being in Hawaii, especially living under the parental roof, generally leads to an almost overwhelming desire to vent verbally, preferably in writing.
3. I used to get a natural high from eating at Andrew's (before it went out of business).
4. I often think of Shane when I'm working in my yard.
5. I miss playing basketball almost as much as I miss my Kidz.
Now, do I actually know 5 people who blog? Let me see...
There are Trent at http://iamthepurpleone.livejournal.com/
Melissa at http://melzme.livejournal.com/
Michael over on MySpace
Deb at http://eatingforthree.blogspot.com/
and last but by no means least
Jazz at http://searchforgnomes.blogspot.com/
Y'all are tagged, for what it's worth.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Big Night
Continuing on with the food flicks fetish I've been trying to satisfy, I come to the one I generally watch last: Stanley Tucci's Big Night. It's not one that I've rushed to rewatch in the past, perhaps because I have tended to phase out near the end. That has been a mistake.
Since the making of this film, Tony Shalhoub has gone on to create the unforgettable Mr. Monk, the defective detective, and that character peeks out from behind the apron of Shalhoub's Primo (first son) in this earlier work. He plays the older brother, as obsessed with the perfection of the dishes he prepares nightly as his younger brother (played by Stanley Tucci) is obsessed with attaining the American Dream. the result is an insightful study of culture clashes and values clarification against the backdrop of a marvelously prepared Italian feast.
Balancing these tightly wound brothers are three of Hollywood's more interesting female performers: Minnie Driver, Allison Janney, and the ever luminous Isabella Rossallini. Each brings her own depth to the film, enriching it as surely as the pinch of spice we occasionally see Shalhoub toss into a dish.
Equally interestingly subtle is the understated performance of an almost silent Marc Anthony, whose nonverbals do his talking for him. Meanwhile Liev Schrieber and Ian Holm chew scenery with as much gusto as they do the timpano that highlights the Big Meal.
For some reason, whenever I see Ian Holm these days, I flash on his role in The Fifth Element, but there is nothing quiet about this character. I do like the way the game Shalhoub sets his guests to playing provides all the explication necessary for the game Holm has been playing on the chef brothers.
I am glad I watched this one again.
Since the making of this film, Tony Shalhoub has gone on to create the unforgettable Mr. Monk, the defective detective, and that character peeks out from behind the apron of Shalhoub's Primo (first son) in this earlier work. He plays the older brother, as obsessed with the perfection of the dishes he prepares nightly as his younger brother (played by Stanley Tucci) is obsessed with attaining the American Dream. the result is an insightful study of culture clashes and values clarification against the backdrop of a marvelously prepared Italian feast.
Balancing these tightly wound brothers are three of Hollywood's more interesting female performers: Minnie Driver, Allison Janney, and the ever luminous Isabella Rossallini. Each brings her own depth to the film, enriching it as surely as the pinch of spice we occasionally see Shalhoub toss into a dish.
Equally interestingly subtle is the understated performance of an almost silent Marc Anthony, whose nonverbals do his talking for him. Meanwhile Liev Schrieber and Ian Holm chew scenery with as much gusto as they do the timpano that highlights the Big Meal.
For some reason, whenever I see Ian Holm these days, I flash on his role in The Fifth Element, but there is nothing quiet about this character. I do like the way the game Shalhoub sets his guests to playing provides all the explication necessary for the game Holm has been playing on the chef brothers.
I am glad I watched this one again.
On the State of Education
Browsing yesterday's editorial page this morning, I noticed a series of entries from high school students contemplating just what they believe to be essential to the adequate preparation of themselves and their peers for future success. I found myself nodding in sage agreement with the initial entries, clearly properly trained, delightfully thoughtful and insightful youth promising good things for the next generation in charge. Then I came across an entry that sounded much more like an echo of contemporary political brainwashing, which made me realize that all that sagacity that had preceded it had to be reflections of older voices as well.
What particularly disturbed me, however, was the emphasis on "hands-on learning" over standards-based learning," at least as it was discussed in the editorial. The writer was particularly enthusiastic about exclusive project-oriented, outcome-based learning. Now what, you may well ask, could I possibly find objectionable in that? Is not the purpose of public education, after all, the preparation of functional adult workers?
Here's the thing: there has always been hands-on learning, whether it was called vocational training, apprenticeship, internship, or shop and home ec. There will always be a place in society for hands-on learning because there will always be a need for those who can and do eagerly seek employment with their hands. We don't actually need formal, government-funded schools for that sort of training. There will always be a place in society for those who wish to pursue entrepreneurship, who seek satisfaction and fulfillment in commerce.
Traditionally, school was not meant for everyone, not offered to everyone. Truth to tell, not everyone appreciates the unique opportunities available in a school setting, nor should they have to experience them. The kinds of work and opportunities best served by school training tend to deal with intangibles, at least in part. Those who seek to serve in government, in law, in medicine - in short, in the professions - are well-served by the rigors of classroom education. The give-and-take of open discussion based on extensive readings, and the thoughtful writing that follows such activities, helps to broaden horizons and open future leaders to new avenues of thought that are also connected to deep wells of tradition. At least, that's the potential and the theory. Going off half-cocked in a public venue for hands-on experience without having first considered what has gone before is not a useful learning activity for such students.
Those who wish to build better bridges, design better transportation, manipulate finances, or otherwise work with tangible constructions are happier in the doing and benefit from extensive hands-on experience early in their educational careers. One would hope that enforced contemplation might help to mold such workers' sense of shared community values, but anything enforced is a crap shoot at best.
And what of our artists, musicians, athletes, and other performers? How do we best serve them as they seek to hone their respective crafts?
Yet we throw all our students into one barrel and then wonder why one system does not answer for all. What idiot composed the initial query that set the question as a dichotomy anyway?
What particularly disturbed me, however, was the emphasis on "hands-on learning" over standards-based learning," at least as it was discussed in the editorial. The writer was particularly enthusiastic about exclusive project-oriented, outcome-based learning. Now what, you may well ask, could I possibly find objectionable in that? Is not the purpose of public education, after all, the preparation of functional adult workers?
Here's the thing: there has always been hands-on learning, whether it was called vocational training, apprenticeship, internship, or shop and home ec. There will always be a place in society for hands-on learning because there will always be a need for those who can and do eagerly seek employment with their hands. We don't actually need formal, government-funded schools for that sort of training. There will always be a place in society for those who wish to pursue entrepreneurship, who seek satisfaction and fulfillment in commerce.
Traditionally, school was not meant for everyone, not offered to everyone. Truth to tell, not everyone appreciates the unique opportunities available in a school setting, nor should they have to experience them. The kinds of work and opportunities best served by school training tend to deal with intangibles, at least in part. Those who seek to serve in government, in law, in medicine - in short, in the professions - are well-served by the rigors of classroom education. The give-and-take of open discussion based on extensive readings, and the thoughtful writing that follows such activities, helps to broaden horizons and open future leaders to new avenues of thought that are also connected to deep wells of tradition. At least, that's the potential and the theory. Going off half-cocked in a public venue for hands-on experience without having first considered what has gone before is not a useful learning activity for such students.
Those who wish to build better bridges, design better transportation, manipulate finances, or otherwise work with tangible constructions are happier in the doing and benefit from extensive hands-on experience early in their educational careers. One would hope that enforced contemplation might help to mold such workers' sense of shared community values, but anything enforced is a crap shoot at best.
And what of our artists, musicians, athletes, and other performers? How do we best serve them as they seek to hone their respective crafts?
Yet we throw all our students into one barrel and then wonder why one system does not answer for all. What idiot composed the initial query that set the question as a dichotomy anyway?
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Back to Flix
First up this year is Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events.
This is a film that I have been avoiding, as well as a series I have been avoiding reading, though I cannot really say why. In any event, watching it as a Netflix rental seemed a harmless enough way to find out what all the fuss has been about. In fact, I found myself very quickly engaged and settled in for a very enjoyable couple of hours. (I love flipping through the outtakes and extra stuff.)
While it's pretty hard not to know that Jim Carrey is a part of this project, I was pleasantly surprised as talent after talent kept popping up on-screen, very much as they do in the Harry Potter series. Timothy Spalding, Meryl Streep, Cedric the Entertainer, and an unbilled Dustin Hoffman all startled and delighted with their appearances. These are classy professionals who rarely misstep, and their work here is well-edited.
Emily Browning and Liam Aiken, who play the older Baudelaire children are well-edited as well, but it is the Hoffman twins playing young Sunny who steals the best bubbled quips. Like the book series, this film is creative, playful, surprisingly delightful, and has just the right mix of naivete and cynicism to please.
As is indicated on the dvd extras, Jim Carrey's genius is funneled rather than controlled, which is perhaps the best way to capture and utilize the strengths that he brings to the table as a comedic performer.
.
What I really enjoyed is the whimsy that is carried over into the design of the dvd itself. Clearly someone has done a good job of conveying the delightful wordplay for which the written series is famous. It will be interesting to see how the rest of the series is handled, if at all.
This is a film that I have been avoiding, as well as a series I have been avoiding reading, though I cannot really say why. In any event, watching it as a Netflix rental seemed a harmless enough way to find out what all the fuss has been about. In fact, I found myself very quickly engaged and settled in for a very enjoyable couple of hours. (I love flipping through the outtakes and extra stuff.)
While it's pretty hard not to know that Jim Carrey is a part of this project, I was pleasantly surprised as talent after talent kept popping up on-screen, very much as they do in the Harry Potter series. Timothy Spalding, Meryl Streep, Cedric the Entertainer, and an unbilled Dustin Hoffman all startled and delighted with their appearances. These are classy professionals who rarely misstep, and their work here is well-edited.
Emily Browning and Liam Aiken, who play the older Baudelaire children are well-edited as well, but it is the Hoffman twins playing young Sunny who steals the best bubbled quips. Like the book series, this film is creative, playful, surprisingly delightful, and has just the right mix of naivete and cynicism to please.
As is indicated on the dvd extras, Jim Carrey's genius is funneled rather than controlled, which is perhaps the best way to capture and utilize the strengths that he brings to the table as a comedic performer.
.
What I really enjoyed is the whimsy that is carried over into the design of the dvd itself. Clearly someone has done a good job of conveying the delightful wordplay for which the written series is famous. It will be interesting to see how the rest of the series is handled, if at all.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Kicking Off the New Year w/Adrenalin
Greetings, and welcome to 2008!
California is starting off this Leap Year with a bang, taking the Environmental Protection Agency to court. I'd love to hear as many sides to this argument as possible because, on the surface of things, it certainly seems as though the EPA is way off base. They have ruled that California cannot enact more stringent environmental requirements of automakers than the federal government currently allows. Clearly, that sounds lame. I just have to know what the rest of the story could possibly be, especially since California legislatures oversee the EPA, if I understand this article correctly.
You know what really worries me? California is merely aiming to roll back emission levels to 1990, which were already pretty horrendous. It seems to me that California is aiming low. If the federal government is aiming even lower, one really needs to be concerned for the next generation coming up after us. Shades of John Varley's Millenium!
You remember: that's the short story that was turned into a novel that was turned into a B-movie starring Kris Kristoferson and Cheryl Ladd -- the one where people from the future come back into the present in order to change history to preserve their own timeline. The human race has mutated to the point where they have to wear special tanks of polluted air because they can no longer handle the relatively clean air of the twentieth century. Anyway, sure seems like that mutation won't be long coming for those who survive the increasing number of asthmatics appearing in contemporary society. Now that's sad.
And the federal government is willing to protect the interests of a few fat cats today at the expense of those who must live the consequences tomorrow. I gotta hear the rest of the story...
California is starting off this Leap Year with a bang, taking the Environmental Protection Agency to court. I'd love to hear as many sides to this argument as possible because, on the surface of things, it certainly seems as though the EPA is way off base. They have ruled that California cannot enact more stringent environmental requirements of automakers than the federal government currently allows. Clearly, that sounds lame. I just have to know what the rest of the story could possibly be, especially since California legislatures oversee the EPA, if I understand this article correctly.
You know what really worries me? California is merely aiming to roll back emission levels to 1990, which were already pretty horrendous. It seems to me that California is aiming low. If the federal government is aiming even lower, one really needs to be concerned for the next generation coming up after us. Shades of John Varley's Millenium!
You remember: that's the short story that was turned into a novel that was turned into a B-movie starring Kris Kristoferson and Cheryl Ladd -- the one where people from the future come back into the present in order to change history to preserve their own timeline. The human race has mutated to the point where they have to wear special tanks of polluted air because they can no longer handle the relatively clean air of the twentieth century. Anyway, sure seems like that mutation won't be long coming for those who survive the increasing number of asthmatics appearing in contemporary society. Now that's sad.
And the federal government is willing to protect the interests of a few fat cats today at the expense of those who must live the consequences tomorrow. I gotta hear the rest of the story...
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