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...

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"!!!!!

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.

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.

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?

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.