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"The most Magnificent piece of ass I never had...."
2003-09-05 01:17:34
So, quite the break, right? I wander off and don’t post for....what.....eighteeen days or something? Bleh. Mostly lazyness on my part, although this last weekend was spent at the great, the reviled Dragon*Con. (The asterix stands for quality!) Again, as always, I’m a bit distressed that no one saw fit to poke me, curious about the sudden resumption of apathetic updates, but I can’t really say I’m surprised. For one, it wasn’t as long as some of the absences, and for another, lab tests have found that the trained behaviorial stimulation most likely to evoke a return is the one only randomly rewarded. Put simply, if you put your cash in a coke machine and it breaks, and you shove the coin return a couple of times, and a dollar in change starts falling out every time you hit the button, you’re likely to keep hitting the button. If it happens every time, then suddenly ceases, then you’re likely to only hit it a few more times before giving up. But if it only rewarded you every couple of times, randomly determined, you might spend a good couple of minutes hitting the button after the machine has ceased to pay out. (There’s a school of thought that ascribes to this reward system the basis for all religion....but that’s always sounded more than a little far-fetched to me.)
Actually finally met with my new roommates after two solid weeks of hermit-like sequestration in my room. Honestly, it was more due to the fact that my weekly schedule keeps me from home until 10 or 11 at night on good days, but I know they must’ve thought I was being anti-social. At any rate, they caught me at a good moment and we sat out in the living room getting slightly tipsy on gin mixed with this horrid Pepsi-co Sprite-stand in. (Mountain mist?) It was an educational experience on a couple of levels. One of my new roommates is from Spain, and the roommate who remained from last semester is from Latin America, so I have a nasty feeling I’m going to be a linguistic third wheel again this semester, although they were nice about speaking in English. (Still haven’t really ”met” the final roommate yet, he was stuck in the library at the moment.) Every once in a while Daniel and he would briefly converse in Spanish when I pulled one of my vocabulary concepts out. The discussion wandered pretty readily and pretty far. We hit my work, their work, etc. They remarked on how unusual it seemed to them that the US has a largely homogenous population, and it’s plain that they intended this as a compliment. I heard about the Basquan (sp?) section of Spain, and how a terrorist group in the last 30 years or so have attempted to force a secession of the Basquan lands by bombing random tourist attractions around the country. They heard the more elaborate version of what caused the Civil War. (Anyone worried about the previous sentence should know me better than that....) The new guy actually brought up both Anime and Niel Gamian at no prompting from myself, although he wasn’t terribly familiar with it. Gonna see if I can wrangle some comp badges for them. They both expressed interest and specifically asked if I could get them in. For the sake of room peace, I’m gonna see what I can do.
Thrown for a nasty loop at one point, though, when they both pretty solidly agreed that everyone in Latin America hates the Argentineans. You know, people say that Americans hate the French, but that’s practically a joke 99% of the time. Built up out of caricatures, I don’t think it’s actually solid bigotry. They way they were talking, though, was more than a little disconcerting. I’m hoping it was just a matter of defaulting to the simpler statement due to lack of vocabulary, but that wasn’t a pleasant part of the conversation for me. Got a bit worse when I was told that “the Jewish contingent in the US government is really running things”. Scary.
Then, as I was afraid it would, the talk drifted into politics and Iraq. Things got just a touch nasty, but not at my impetus. Apparently some teacher in the marketing department at Tech gave a lecture using the butterfly ballot as an example of “bad market design.” (Guh....) Apparently the US is engaging in the war in Iraq solely for the oil....despite the fact they couldn’t name me a single company with oil contracts in Iraq, and refused to believe me when I pointed out the Elf contracts with Saddam. Scratched the surface a little and discovered that the new guy is a big fan of Michael Moore and Noam Chompsky. (.......Nghhhh....) Quoted them at length to show that the US foreign policy consisted entirely of supplying the US with a big enough opponent. If I wasn’t certain how much a rabid right-winger I’d come off, I would’ve dissected the points on factual basis, one at a time. We’ll be avoiding these conversations in the future in deference to his halting English. Felt like I was picking on him ‘cause every point had to be repeated or translated, and he couldn’t give as good as he was getting in the verbal argument. Took him ten minutes to make a simple economic point to the degree that I understood what he was talking about. I’m not gonna touch on either of these points, ‘cause that’s a can of worms I don’t feel like fighting with tonight, and I seriously doubt that anyone reading this cares on that point.
They did give a pretty interesting perspective on 9/11. By his own admission, the Spanish guy’s idea of America has been largely shaped by Hollywood, so their response to 9/11 was mostly confusion. A feeling that America has been lying by portraying itself as a regimentally secure country where everything is watched over and kept safe by a powerful government. It’s weird, but the impression he apparently took away from the movies was that the US was possessed of such an incredible intelligence organization that this sort of thing should never have occurred. This is very, very weird in my eyes, because, far more often than not, the government portrayed by Hollywood was an enormous, powerful, spying, but terribly corrupt (either in individual, or in collective) organization playing at mild 1984 games to control the populace through mind games, false intelligence leaks, and cover-ups. This, of course, had to be exposed and defeated by a superhumanly moral, ridiculously talented individual slipping in and out of the government, tearing the organization or individual apart with a surgeon’s precision. Admittedly, this hero was almost always American as well. Now, we both knew to treat this film as fiction, but over time the deluge of media repeatedly washing over us meant that we were left with impressions and ideas about the real counterparts of the fictional subjects. I, always finding the extent of power and evilness of the fictional government, as well as the ludicrousness of the conspiracies proposed as portrayed in the film, readily dismissed (with sufficient reason to back it up, naturally) the conspiracy theories that made the US government (or any other government) the central liar of the world. This is largely the bias I take to the table when confronted with Area 51, Kennedy assassinations, racial bias, and the support of fascistic dictators. I’ve been proven wrong in the past, and I’m more than willing to admit it (especially on the last one). But I don’t start there, and I regard those who do as.....well, naive at best. On the other hand, the “little guy” the hero battling against the incredible odds with a ludicrous level of morality I admit I have a romantic (as in emotional aesthetic, smartass) regard for the hero. 99% of the people out there never get a chance to display such qualities, but I readily accept that an individual can act heroically when confronted with a disastrous situation. I admit that it’s an unreasonable bias, but it goes along with the “faith in humanity” point I made in a previous post. I’ve been proven wrong on that point as well, perhaps the most profound being that incident back in the seventies where a woman was raped and killed in full view of an entire block of apartments in downtown Manhattan, and not only did no one try to rescue her, but afterwards no one “saw anything.” Those are my biases on the subjects, and I admit that they’re obstructions to logical, straightforward thinking, but at least I recognize them for what they are. My roommates, on the other hand, apparently found the portrayal of the US as an enormous conspiratorial organization a perfectly reasonable assertion, but the idea that some random person might act in a manner that wasn’t entirely self-serving seemed an outside chance at best to them. (I’m not assuming this, I pursued the point specifically.) And yet, his reaction to 9/11 was “how can this have happened? The US has been lying to us all this time?” As in, “isn’t this US an enormous government so totally in control of a self-serving populace that this would never be able to happen? Isn’t the US totally obsessed with security? Don’t they dictate how the world is run?” Honestly, this response is so utterly foreign to me that I can’t even formulate how to respond. It’s a presentation from a set of influenced biases that are so totally antithetical to my own that I have trouble comprehending it. I would think that the events of 9/11 would’ve belied the idea that the US “controls” the world, proving wrong the conspiracy theories, but instead the response is to accuse the US of lying to the world that it’s been in control, and has just been doing a sloppy job of controlling the world. It’s like the Cobra commandos complaining that their leader is incompetent. I mean sure he’s evil and trying to take over the world, but the fact he’s a lousy strategic planner too?
How do I even approach that? I’m predisposed to trust in declarations of good intentions until proven otherwise, and suspect declared rumors of bad intentions. They are predisposed to distrust in declared good intentions until proven otherwise, and believe without challenge the rumor of bad intentions (see Michael Moore and Noam Chompsky). Now map this out onto the conflict with Israel and Palestine, to which the discussion turned subsequently, and I’m willing to bet you can predict every step of the conversation right up to the point where we abandoned it for bed. (I’ll say only this on the topic. There may come a time in which a government force from another country maims me, rapes and kills my family, and shoots my dog. I might, at that point, become so incensed as to make a suicide attack on my tormentors. But even then I would attack the military or government, not blow up a bus of schoolchildren. Just because an attack is desperate does not mean I have to respect your cause. And no, I don’t think there is an easy solution, nor do I have any idea what the right first step would be.)
Now, having once again cut down my readership and pissed off my friends with radical ideas about human nature and the position of man in the world, on to what you were really waiting for, the report on Dragon Con!
For those of you who don’t know, Dragon Con is the south east’s biggest conglomo-con. It covers sci-fi, fantasy, horror, videogames, films, books, strategy games, role playing, ...”role playing”......furries......wrestling.....just about anything that can be categorized as having a “fandom” gets its own little corner of the con, all the way down to having a dedicated track for “Xena”, “Wheel Of Time,” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” The con is frickin’ HUGE, pulling in numbers of something like 25-27 thousand attendees per year, and suffers all the major benefits and problems of being so enormous. I won’t bore you with the details that you likely already know about big cons. Frankly, I’m something of a renegade director at AWA for actually paying to go and enjoy D*C, seeing as how D*C served as a central model of what the directors _didn’t_ want AWA to be like. Hence the con motto “no Magic, no Vampires, and no fucking Klingons.” Anyone who reads Dave Merrill’s lj already got his summary of the weekend “There was dick to buy in the dealer's room, nobody bought any JUKUs, and the fans are uglier and fatter than ever.” (He’s a little more reasonable elsewhere in the post.) Which is, likely, exactly how he saw it. On the other hand, he spent the small part of the convention that he was actually present sitting behind the AWA table in the lobby answering AWA questions as asked by the people who are introverted enough to be unaware that Atlanta has an anime con. Further, D*C in particular treated him like shit about.....uh.....four years ago?....when D*C made it absolutely clear to the anime room crew that they couldn’t care less how popular anime was becoming, they were consigning it to the smallest broom closet they could find next to the child care facility. He, being Dave, got the hell out before it got worse. Most of the other con directors have been staff at D*C at one point or another in different capacities (largely to dodge the steadily increasing entrance fees), and got burned out on crappy tiering of con administrative personalities. The anime track and video rooms in particular cycled out an AWA director about every two years. I expect this to continue despite the resolve and near-suicidal desperation of the current anime room staff. (Darius, really, get the hell out before we find you hanging from the projector screen.)
And that’s why I’ve never been tempted to be on staff at D*C. Now, for the sake of balance, I’ve heard good things from some people in other departments. Those incidents are vastly outnumbered, though.
So why do I go? Well, it was my first real con. Way back in high school. Also, some of the tracks are downright fascinating, but you have to accept that some of the big ones are going to be utter disasters, and you’re just not going to be lucky enough to get into some of them. They may bring in the big Star Wars and Star Trek names, but they don’t neglect the more esoteric stars either, and esoteric is my middle name. The big events (costume contest, opening ceremonies, premier films, etc.) I’ve essentially given up on, but the little ones are often sparsely populated enough that you can actually participate. Further, there’s the dealer’s room, which is possibly the only time in the world that I actually enjoy shopping. There’s just so much STUFF that I find cool or aesthetically pleasing or nostalgic that it’s always been my real nerdilishious splurge for the year. Where else am I going to find a soapstone Cthulhu? Most importantly, though, it’s the only time of the year that I see some of my friends. Those who’ve scattered to the four winds after high school or college often try to wend their way back to Atlanta for D*C. We make a kind of chaotic social mixer out of it, and since we all have various staked out portions of the con, we always know where to look for one another.
This year’s experience was actually foreshadowed on Thursday when I was standing in the “pick up your badge the day before” line. I hadn’t received the little confirmation postcard this year, and so got stuck in that specific, most slowly moving line of all. Standing next to me was a man in his late forties and we struck up a conversation. At some point he mentioned a little con made up of tightly knit repeat attendees. This sounded remarkably like a convention that a couple of my friends have been trying to get me to go to for the last few years, so I asked him if he knew them. Turned out that he did. Random stranger in line next to me turns out to be long-time friends of my friends. That foreshadowed the rest of the con for me because I couldn’t go forty feet through the lobby without running into someone I knew. Vicky, Gregory, James, Anthony, Jane, Franklin, Audry, Molly, Chris, the other Chris, Sheryl, Shelly, Mike, the other Mike, Darius, Nigel, Hil, Dave, Lloyd, Stan, and half a dozen more that I’m forgetting right now. In addition, though, I got a taste of what was to come when a woman five or ten people back would just...not...shut....up about how she’d been a long-time supporter of the convention and how she couldn’t beLIEVE they wouldn’t send her the confirmation card. OH HOW she was gonna knock heads when they got to the front of the line. OBVIOUSLY this was a personal affront to her and her alone. There is no fan like a bitter old sci-fi fan. If I ever do that, someone shoot me. It was even more foreshadowing-er (uh...yeah) when I realized I was developing a blister on my foot before the con even started. Anyone wondering why I was limping strangely all weekend, it was in a desperate attempt to not make it any worse.
Having gotten my badge and doing a quick run-through the con to see if I could spot any of my friends on staff, I took off, paid seven dollars for parking, and headed home to get a good night’s rest (HA!) before the con.
Came back to the con at a much more reasonable time than I used to. Nothing opened until 1:00, so I got there around 10:00 or so. Got the same parking space (hey look! Special weekend rates! 5$! Kickass....), and wandered the con for some pre-show ogling. (More on that later.) Knowing how ungodly crowded the dealer’s room was going to be at first, I opted for a panel at 1:00 and caught the first James Marster appearance. (For those who don’t know, he plays the peroxided British punk bad-guy-reformed on Buffy and now on Angel) The room was only half filled because he was scheduled for a handful of these panels, and all the slathering fanboys just HAD to be first into the dealer’s room, just in case, you know, they sold out of everything. From the panel I learned a few things. A) James Marster is a pretty nice guy. He was full of stories about everyone but himself, and repeatedly downplayed his own contribution to the show. In a later panel he summed up by saying “In the end, if I’m standing on the tape and my hair looks good, I get all the credit.” He had great tales about the blows his stunt double took for him. (“Was the scene where Buffy and Spike finally do ‘it’ hard for me to do? _NO_. My stunt double was a little pissed, though.”) He also repeatedly told the story about how a stunt went wrong and David Boreanz went through a few 2x4s with his head, but insisted they complete the shot before having it seen to. Lotsa gushing about Joss Whedon too. B) James Marster is a pretty funny guy. He knows how to play the crowd pretty well. C) James Marster is a pretty profane guy. See B. At one point someone brought up how Sarah Michelle Gellar would throw off Boreanz by pulling little tricks; eating garlic and onions before make-out scenes, and asked him if he had similar experiences. He replied that Sarah used to make fun of his method acting all the time, but the real problem was Juliet Landau, who played Drusilla. “She kept sneaking these dirty bits into the scenes. Go back, watch the older episodes, and ask yourself in each scene, ‘Where, exactly, are Drusilla’s hands right now?’” D) James Marster is RIPPED. The man is _much_ more heavily muscled than he looks to be on TV, much to the delight of all the fangirls in the audience. He’s built a little like Iggy Pop, the world’s strongest heroin addict. (Which is a bit ironic, as Marster’s currently in a punk band named “The Ghost of the Robot”. Performed the following day and I understand wasn’t that great.) In a later panel that I didn’t attend, one of the girls asked him if he’d take his shirt off for the rest of the panel. He was a little offended and said something like “that’s a bit like if I just asked you to take _your_ shirt off.”
She did. And she wasn’t wearing a bra. Shocked and horribly embarrassed James.
D) James Marster is _old_. I would’ve previously guessed that he was in his early thirties, but he’s actually 44.
Kinda sorry that I missed the Ray Park panel scheduled opposite this, since Ray Park didn’t have any other events that I could find, but oh well.
After that was over, I wandered out and snuck in to catch the last few minutes of “Mystery of the Batwoman.” Apparently another new WB film release of the animated Batman, now that they no longer produce TV episodes. Looked to be pretty good, although nothing spectacular on the animation front. Some mystery involving Penguin, Rupert Thorn, an exploding yacht, and several Batwomen. Won’t give away any more than that, ‘cause I can’t.
After that, I finally conceded to peer pressure and charged into the dealers’ room. Everyone’s pretty much said the same thing this year, that nothing there really jumped out and demanded that it be bought. I had the same impression on my first run through, but I always find _something_ to buy, so I gave it the benefit of the doubt. Said hello to Mike and Shelly at the Titan’s booth, kept an eye out for that beautiful cold-steel kurki that I still can’t afford (never found it) or the elaborate klaive I wanted (ditto), and remarked on the drastic drop in bootleggers present. The previous year the room had been so utterly saturated with them you couldn’t go three booths without finding another. Apparently, much of the anime bootleg market is being decimated by the rapid rate with which everything gets licensed now, and the spread of digisubs undercuts them in the other direction. The bootleggers are actually returning to the realms where I don’t mind their contributions; crappy old 80’s cartoons, out-of-print films that no one in their right mind would want (_Solarbabies_ for heaven’s sake!), foreign film, and missed corporate opportunities. (Can anyone say “source footage?”). Over the weekend I picked up a couple of legit DVDs, a couple of illegitimate DVDs of films that were released decades ago, a Japanese DVD, a TV series that’s never been released on home system, and one set that I actually feel a little guilty about. Stuck at one tiny little table was a bootlegger selling EVERY MST3K episode. All of ‘em. Now, in theory I should be pissed at this guy. He’s betraying Rhino, the “we strain for every profit” company that actually takes a chance and produces the MST3K shows commercially. On the other hand, there’s a lot of the old shows that Rhino CAN’T release. Like the Gamera shows. Sandy Frank got so pissed that MST3K was using their licenses to make fun of the old shows that Sandy Frank refused to let them re-purchase the rights. The Gamera MSTies can’t be released for home systems, nor can they ever be shown on TV again. Even worse, the show’s producers never intend to release any of the first season MSTies, because they didn’t really like how they turned out. These, of course, are the ones I want the most, as I have vivid memories of laughing myself sick to the “Robot Monster” and “Robot vs. the Aztec Mummy” over a decade ago. Even then, this guy was betraying the “keep circulating the tapes” fan-base effort that’s been going since long before MST3K got picked up by Rhino. The truth of the matter is, though, that the tape-trading rings have fallen into heavy disrepair and are effectively gone at this point. So I went ahead and did it. Bought the entire first season. $110. Ouch. Here’s hoping this guy didn’t royally screw me, as I haven’t yet had time to check any of them. At least there was no illusion about their legitimacy. Paper sleeves, no writing on them, and he burned the last one while I waited.
After the first run-through of the dealer’s room, I hit the exhibition hall (dealer’s room only more spread out with an occasional demo game or display-only booth). On the way up, I stopped in the bathroom, and thought I recognized Brian Downey, the guy who played Stanley Tweedle on Lexx, but I’d heard that he wasn’t supposed to be at D*C, so figured it couldn’t be him. Turns out I was wrong, and I kinda wish I had talked to him, because every Lexx event at the con was scheduled opposite one of Dr. Sperry’s panels, which I simply can’t miss. Xena Seeberg from Lexx (who played the second incarnation of the love-slave “Xev Bellringer”) was actually in a car accident the day before, and although no one was badly hurt, her doctor didn’t want her doing anything stressful, so she missed the whole con. Michael McMannis, who played Kai, was also a no-show, but apparently more because he considered himself above things like con appearances, what with being a “serious actor” and all. (The only other person who showed was Patricia Zentilli, the actress who played “Bunny,” a fairly minor character. Think Christina Applegate on Married with Children.) Brian Downey, however, is apparently a legendarily nice guy. At a Canadian convention devoted solely to Lexx he apparently took everyone out to dinner one night. The following night he picked up everyone’s bar tab. I stopped by the table where he was right at the end of the convention, and despite the fact there were three or four assistants running around behind the desk, he ran right up to greet us and tell us about all the stuff on the table. Turns out that he, himself, made half of the little souvenir knick-knacks for sale, all the way down to trimming laminate and hunting down eye-hook chain from hardware stores for badges. Assembled the “making of” tapes himself, ran us through some photo montages in a binder, the whole deal. I was actually a little relieved to see him in such high spirits. I don’t know exactly why, but all during the last season of Lexx I got the impression he wasn’t in good health. No fan rumors or real explicit signs, just the sort of haggard way he played Stan (which was in character by this point) made me worry. I’m glad to see my assumption was wrong.
Tried to get in to see the John Rhys-Davies panel, since I remembered it so fondly from last year, but the line filled the room and the surrounding hallway, so I didn’t bother. Turned out later that Rhys-Davies was also a no-show. His movie had been held over in shooting, and he’d never gotten on the plane in South America.
Second attempt was “Frothy mugs of water,” a panel on US censorship of anime, my first foray into the brand-new anime track. Getting there early, I sat down to sort through the rest of the schedule. I was sitting in the back with my head down, which it turned out was fortunate. The panelists were no-shows apparently, and an anime fan on staff stepped up to fill a seat. A few seconds later, though, a panelist turned up.
Jer Alford.
NNnnnnggghhHH.
Jer has a history with AWA. Not a good history. Just short of a police history. I’ve no desire to get into the details of it here, but let us just say that it involves restraining orders. Whenever possible, we at AWA do our best to pretend that he never existed. He tends to flee anyone he recognizes from AWA. Doesn’t help that I know more about anime censorship than he does. Waited for two or three minutes so as not to call attention, and beat a hasty retreat out the back door.
Went instead to a Lexx panel, paneled not by the actors, but by a producer and a string of fans. Exceedingly interesting info on exactly how weirdly the whole show had progressed. Struck by a horrific ratings drop in Germany, the German company pulled out at the end of the second season, and Sci-Fi picked up the tab at the VERY last minute. Also heard some audition stories and actor-recycling stories, but not much else stuck in my head.
Hit the dealer’s room again, ran into a friend (I’m not gonna try to remember who, as I ran into so many people so many times that matching them with events is absurdly difficult) and hit Orange Julius for lunch/dinner.
After that, there wasn’t anything much else that I wanted to see that night, so I hung around and crowd watched the nightly fustercluck.
Ahh....night at D*C. This will require some explanation. The first year I was at D*C overnight (over a decade ago....yeesh) I noticed that the crowds really died down a lot after about 10:00, and a good contingent of costumers took advantage of the unrestricted hallways to display their more elaborate and delicate costumes. Klingon full regalia, furries before the stigma set in, elaborate Victorian outfits. Really only a handful, all told, and I browsed them for a little bit before beating it to the anime room for my yearly dose of Anime Hell.
That is still true, to some degree, but something new has been added. At some point, a couple of people came in costume as bondage S&M couples. Fully clothed, but the stilettos, dog leash, boned corset, etc. They got a lot of attention. I mean a LOT. More than the girl who came as a Succubus (one-piece swimsuit, horns, tail, painted red.....I’m a guy, I remember these things). Since it got a lot of attention, it was imitated the following years. At some point, the Atlanta fetish community got wind of it, and one year there was a near explosion as an enormous number showed up at the con en-mass clad in little more than underwear and inch-wide leather straps. (If memory serves, this is the year that Doug Bradly came to the con, as well as Clive Barker.....which kinda amplified everything.)
The trend continued and amped-up a LOT in the following years, incorporating the newly-discovered latex and PVC fetishists, and devolving into a gradual game of one-upsmanship with one another, getting more and more extreme each year. Not surprisingly, the night life of the con saw more and more activity the more extreme each of these costumes got. Some sort of pinnacle was reached about two years ago (in my estimation) when the downstairs lobby was so tightly packed with leather, latex, PVC, bondage and discipline costumers that you couldn’t move without uncomfortably tugging someone’s.....uh....chain. "The Chamber" got some of their more extreme staffers to parade around the con advertising an after-hours party at the nightclub. It began to leak rather obtrusively into the track programming, some of the outfits were showing up uncomfortably early, and one late-night program actually had to be shut down as it was devolving into a live-sex act. Just the common attendees were wearing things you wouldn’t believe. Well...OK, you’d believe it. But you’d at least be startled. One outfit I remember (again...I’m a guy) consisted of nothing more than panties and a gauze top. One girl at the Godsmack table was wearing a black mesh top in the middle of the day that let you count her nipple piercings. (More than two.) I think some line was actually crossed that year and got people in really bad trouble, as any recognition of the phenomenon was stripped from the program by the following year....which saw that nasty incarceration business, further encouraging future “plausible deniability.” At any rate, things have been amped down significantly from that point, and the expansion to a four-day con has watered-down the leather-scent saturation significantly. Further, I think that the “flavor of the month” fascination has died down a bit, along with Vampire obsession, pointing some of the costumers elsewhere. Nonetheless, crowd-watching is certainly more “rewarding” than you’ll encounter elsewhere. I’ve always had mixed feelings about this particular aspect of the con. I mean, come on, heterosexual male in the US, I’ve no objection to scantily clad or tightly-fitted young women parading around in public, especially when it’s THEIR idea. Hell, I’d jump at the chance to help! But on the other hand, it’s sort of a vast practice in frustration. Ladies like to be noticed and complimented, but not STARED at (particularly when you’re strangely unable to elevate your view). Ignoring everything is rude, as well as pitiably frustrating, but there’s a subtle difference between casual appreciative eye contact and the DEEP SOUL-SEARING STARE OF A SERIAL KILLER. The things to keep in mind, I’ve discovered, are A) most everyone is just being a weekend exhibitionist at the con (for all I know, there may have actually been a few lifestylers in the crowd, but I doubt there were many) and B) a girl who dresses like that already HAS a boyfriend or girlfriend. ( also C: never assume you can guess a girl’s age....ask Nigel on that point.) All of this consequently led me to my great revelation of the con. *Ahem*
“I have reached the age wherein I am no longer capable of taking nighttime at D*C sober.”
*cry*
This was a rather tortuous discovery, as I didn’t get into any parties this year (mostly for lack of trying and in spite of Sheryl’s offer), and my initial estimation of the bartenders as “best in the world” when a 6$ screwdriver appeared to contain more than three shots of vodka dropped precipitously when I discovered that they just water the vodka instead of mixing crappily in front of you. Consequently, one of the important purchases this year was a hip flask. Black leather and stainless steel. She and I are going to become best friends.
Anyway, as I was saying, the fetishism at D*C nighttime was a slight step down from last year. Friday night was rather sparse of anyone, Saturday night saw the most activity (we nicknamed it “nudie night”) and Sunday night seemed reserved for actual costumes. Didn’t see anything too extreme beyond the standard dom and more scanty variations thereof. Two girls showed up in a couple of strips of caution tape, one girl being led through the crowd was in a full rubberist bodysuit complete with gasmask, and, most startling, one sub being led by the neck actually had her arms braced behind her. Actually rather dangerous on an escalator, in the crowds, in platform heels. The drift into daytime programming of the con also seems to have backed off significantly, although I did do a double-take at a booth selling crops, ringed collars, and the like, when I realized they were also selling speculums. (If you don’t know what that is.....you probably shouldn’t look it up.)
I ran into Sean and Joel crowd-watching Friday night and accompanied them for a bit, then wandered down to the anime room, where they were showing AMVs to the crowd, emphasizing once again why it was a major mistake to put the anime room in such a tiny fucking corner of the con. I hung out with Darius, Mike, and co. for a while, mixing it up AWA-style, and then booked it at around 3:00. Hadda give a friend of mine a lift ‘cause he’d gotten caught by the Marta deadline. Got all the way out to the parking lot, stuck my credit card in the automated teller (ain’t technology wonnerful?) and got a bill for $15.
WTF? Oh yeah. Friday isn’t part of the weekend, is it?
Damn.
Went home, crashed.
Got up four hours later.
Fuck.
Some year this is gonna justify me getting a room at the con again, but when you’re literally twenty blocks away, it feels damn foolish.
Anyway, Saturday. Got up, got going, for once didn’t have to go into work (labmate covering for me, feeding cells) made it to the con and dove right in to the dealer’s room again. This time, though, I spotted that they’d moved the “Walk of fame” (comic and associated artist’s alley people) to a separate area. The whole area had been renovated heavily since the last year, and it had tightened down the dealer’s space, so the artists were in a series of secondary rooms. No biggie, there was no one I wanted to talk to anyway. On the other hand, the CBLDF booth was just outside of there.
Before I wander off again, I need to put a note or two in about the Jesus Castillo case that has finally dead-ended when the Supreme Court refused to hear it. This isn’t terribly remarkable, as the Supreme Court refuses to hear many cases when, upon review of the previous hearings, they find no essential error with the law or the interpretation thereof. I think the wrong decision was made, and I will fight alongside everyone else the next time the opportunity arises. I will use the Castillo case as an example of a successful assault on an American citizen’s first amendment rights. What I won’t do is hold some hopeless and pointless prayer vigil or picket. I’ll spread the word among friends, and keep the memory of the case alive so that more people are aware of it. However, I don’t regard it as the greatest injustice ever visited upon mankind. It’s a loss on a controversial topic in a state with a history of such losses. Depressing, but the front is always moving, and we can’t be bogged down in past losses so that we aren’t moving on to the next assault. It’s also important that we remember to look at it clearly so that we might converse constructively with those on the other side. Incoherent screaming never wins supporters. Here’s a post from a blog called “The Volokh Conspiracy” that takes a long and careful look at the case.
“Castillo v. State comic book obscenity case: Several people have e-mailed me about Castillo v. State, a case in which a comic book store clerk was convicted of distributing obscenity -- a comic book called Demon Beast Invasion: The Fallen No. 2. Apparently, at trial the prosecutor argued to the jury that even though this particular comic book was sold in the adults-only portion of the store, it should be judged by its effect on children, because (I quote here from the Dallas Observer, Aug. 14),
Use your common sense. Comic books, traditionally what we think of, are for kids. This is a store directly across from an elementary school, and it is put in a medium, in a forum, to directly appeal to kids. That is why we're here. We're here to get this off the shelf.
It's hard for me to tell, without more details, whether it was legal error to allow the prosecutor to make this argument. If the prosecutor was saying that the jury should dispense with the normal obscenity rules, rules that presume an adult audience, because of the nature of comic books (as press accounts suggest), then that's impermissible: The work was being sold to adults, and was in an adults-only section, and the Court has clearly held that adults cannot be denied works simply because they might be harmful if read by children. (Of course, adult works will often end up in the hands of children, even if the seller is careful to sell only to adults, but under the Court's obscenity law, that's not reason enough to deny the works to adults.) On the other hand, if the prosecutor was merely explaining why obscene materials deserve punishment, and the jury was instructed to apply the standard obscenity rules and never told to apply a lesser standard for comic books, then this argument would, I think, be permissible. (Note also that Castillo's attorney didn't object to this material in a manner required by Texas law to preserve the issue for appeal, as Beldar points out.)
IMPORTANT UPDATE: In my original post, I asserted that "the Court of Appeals of Texas made an important error here: It failed to conduct an independent review of the work, to decide for itself whether the speech had serious value, appealed to the prurient interest, and was patently offensive." As readers Michael Mayans and William J. Dyer pointed out, I was just plain wrong. I had read the whole case earlier, but I failed to reread it closely enough when preparing writing this post, so I focused too much on the court's statements that "the evidence was factually sufficient to establish" the elements of the obscenity test, and that the experts' evidence "would not prevent the jury from deciding" that the work was obscene, and just glossed over the fifth point of error, where the court does engage in independent review. A boneheaded error on my part, for which I apologize; and I appreciate the readers' prompt response, which allowed me to quickly alert other readers to my error.
This having been done, I'm not sure that the court's independent review was quite correctly done. Though the court acknowledged that it had to independently "consider whether" (among other things) "the work, taken as a whole, lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value," its discussion of the value seemed to focus on particular offensive items. The Court said that "These drawings and comments . . . neither advocate nor communicate any ideas or opinions concerning serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific values" (emphasis added), with the "these" seemingly referring to particular drawings and comments, not the entire work, though I can't be sure until I get a copy of the comic book. Its conclusion was "We conclude the average person, applying contemporary community standards in this State, would find 'Demon Beast Invasion, The Fallen - Volume 2,' taken as a whole, would only appeal to those who have a prurient interest in sex and therefore is obscene," with no mention of the need to consider the value of the work taken as a whole (and not just particular drawings and comments).
Also, the focus on "ideas or opinions concerning serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific values" seems not to fully capture the "serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific value" prong -- a work can have literary or artistic value even if it doesn't have any "ideas or opinions concerning serious literary [or] artistic . . . values." The First Amendment protects works that have literary or artistic beauty or other value, even if they contain no ideas or opinions; it protects literature and art, not just literary or artistic criticism. Nonetheless, I realize that all this may just be an imprecise formulation in the written opinion -- the court did acknowledge that it had to independently evaluate whether the work, taken as a whole, has serious value, and it may well have applied the test correctly even if it didn't describe it as clearly as it should have.
Finally, I should stress again that I generally oppose obscenity laws, largely because I think the definition of obscenity is hopelessly vague and subjective; and from what I've heard of the comic book, it shouldn't have been found obscene even under this definition. (The law library here is trying to get a copy for me right now, though that's proving hard to do, and not, as best I can tell, because of any fear of prosecution -- apparently it's just not being marketed as a separate item, and to really evaluate the case I need to see it as a separate item and not within a book that collects material from several issues.) But if the court did indeed independently review the evidence, and find the work obscene based on its own judgment, then this means that in the court's view the work is obscene even for adults, regardless of the prosecutor's comments about comics and children -- so the flaw, if there is one (and I think there is) is with obscenity law generally, or the court of appeals' application of it, and not with some new standard being created for comic books.”
In other words, the case isn’t exactly as it’s been presented from either side. A man in a comic book store sold an adult comic to an adult undercover police officer after asking for ID. He was then arrested for selling obscene material. There are a few ways to look at it. A) He was arrested because he sold an obscene comic book, which was obviously intended for reading by children, therefore, by dealing with this material he was contributing to the corruption of a minor. This is the angle that has been bandied about the comic book fan world, especially considering the “Use your common sense” set of lines said by the prosecution. While the excerpted line does seem to say this, it is only partly in context, and we’d really need to see the whole closing statement. It’s possible that he was arguing one of the following directions and not “A”. Volokh points out above that, if this IS the tract the prosecution was using, it’s actually illegal to include in the trial, because precedent has already established that JUST BECAUSE MATERIAL INTENDED FOR ADULTS MIGHT POSSIBLY END UP IN THE HANDS OF MINORS, THAT IS NO REASON TO DENY ACCESS TO IT BY ADULTS. This is extremely important, because it’s the basis behind NOT infantilizing the US citizenry, covering our world in a Barney-friendly padding just because Junior might possibly walk in on mommy and daddy fucking. Further, this is the argument the CBLDF was defending against, by attempting to prove that comics can, indeed, be for adults.
The problem comes with the other options. B) He was arrested for selling material that, under the law in Texas, is “obscene”, and, regardless of what form it might have taken, trafficking in obscene material is illegal. In other words, “Demon Beast Invasion 2” is SO graphic and SO sexually obscene, that it’s not even safe for adults, according to the law, and the idea that children might be involved at all never really entered the picture. How do they make this decision? An obscene product, be it literary, pictorial, or fabricated, must “neither advocate nor communicate any ideas or opinions concerning serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific values” and must appeal only to “prurient (arousing immoderate or unwholesome) sexual interests”. If the material was tested by the court and independently found to be obscene, then Jesus Castillio was properly arrested and fined under the Texas penalties for such violations. In this case, I would argue, the error lies with the law, not the application of it. The determination of what is or is not “prurient” necessarily contains a dictate on what is “wholesome sex”, which is presumably allowed under the law. Often, this stricture is characterized by opponents of obscenity laws as “any depiction of sexual activity,” but it is unlikely that defenders of obscenity laws actually intend to push the line so far. Attacks on first amendment rights from the angle of obscenity laws are almost always battling questionable material to begin with. Let’s all forget that we’re fans, and thus must defend to the death any attack on our hobby, and look honestly at the item in question. What exactly is depicted? Well, I haven’t read it (major disadvantage on my part) but judging from the precedents of Urotsukodoji, it likely depicts rape. Lots and lots of tentacle monsters raping women to death. Fans out there with more than my glancing familiarity with hentai will likely be able to list off three dozen titles that are worse, but that’s beside the point. So what is being questioned is the graphic depiction of rape as a source of eroticism, saying it’s not art, it’s not science, it’s not politics, it’s not literary, and it’s only purpose is to appeal to and encourage really sick and harmful (to other people) sexual acts.
Hmmm.
The charges are at least making more sense than they did ten minutes ago.
However, I would argue that they are still without merit on two counts. The first addresses this case in particular and shows that the charges are largely political in nature. Fishing around in the surrounding history of the matter makes it appear pretty obvious that it’s a petty political move by.......guess who? OVERPROTECTIVE PARENTS! Who’d a thunk that? That aside, it’s unclear that the comic in question was even meant to be in general circulation in the ADULT section, having apparently been left there by a guy who picked it up on special order. That aside, the arrest was conducted on new comic day, which anyone will tell you is the busiest time of the week for a comic shop. THAT aside, the nature of arrest and accusation makes the patently absurd assumption that the comic book store owner would know the full contents and nature of every comic in his shop, and that he’d be capable in every case of making the court-defined decision of whether the material was obscene or not for each and every comic in his shop.
In effect, this particular arrest was made on a guileless middleman. The producers of the questionable material were safely out of reach in another country. The accusation was leveled at rapidly growing pop culture material (anime) in order to give it evening news shock value. Despite the presence of material arguably far worse in pictorial magazines and literature, a comic book store was targeted because it was considered an easy shot. They figured only a tiny number of voting-age citizens really cared about defending comic books, so it was a good place to start. This is why the fringe media must ALWAYS be the most vigilant against attempts to censor their material. They’ve always been the first lines against the censor’s scissors. It is inconceivable that pornographic material in great literature would fall beneath the censor’s heel before it is stripped from comics, genre music, independent film, or the like. What I believe this was, was an attempt to frighten comic sellers into refusing to carry questionable or debatable material for fear of arrest or stigmatization by the public, much like the “Parental Advisory” stickers and “comics code.” Fortunately, I think most people agree that it backfired. Not realizing what the involvement of the CBLDF entailed, the state was forced to pour money from its coffers into the prosecution over and over again as it worked its way up the ladder to the Supreme Court. That was ONE comic. How soon do you think they’ll be trying it again? Yes, Jesus lost the case, but it was a pyrrhic victory.
The second reason that I feel the case had no merit has to do with the human ability to TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FANTASY AND REALITY. There’s countless movies out there “advocating” vigilante justice, making us cheer for the bad guy and the like, and yet people didn’t step out of the theaters and go on a crime spree. We read to escape, and if I pick up a copy of “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” I can immerse myself in the adventures of a stoned cokehead, cheer him in his hallucinatory exploits, and then put the book down and still, non-hypocritically, say that drugs are bad. For us it’s a diverting fantasy, however gory, violent, sexually explicit, or non-politically-correct. Therefore, any material of this nature should NOT be considered obscene, so long as A) it is not real, and B) there is no unreasonable attempt to make the audience (assuming they are reasonably intelligent adults) believe it is real. If a man kidnaps a woman and rapes her repeatedly, recording the events on tape in detail, but is then caught by the cops, and some other man finds the tapes and begins distributing them, then THAT man is guilty of distributing obscene material. In that case, there is insufficient literary, political, or artistic merit (“but it was shot really well!”) to the product to get beyond the fact that its only purpose is to cater to and encourage exceedingly unwholesome sexual interests (watching a woman ACTUALLY get raped). Even productions that simulate rape (ig) wouldn’t fall under the obscenity strictures, because any person watching it _KNOWS_ that it is fake. This is actually AIDED by the medium of comics, as they are, in the final analysis, only two dimensional ink and paper drawings, as opposed to photo-books or performance art. Anime and Manga are also highly stylized, not even attempting reasonably photorealistic individuals, and contain highly fantastical events surrounding the sex in comics like “Demon Beast Invasion.” There is no way that any reasonable adult individual could take manga as an entirely correct representation of the world around them. And, as stated earlier, the simple fact that material intended for reasonable adults might fall into the hands of those either unreasonable adults or children is no reason to deny adults access to them.
Hmm? OH! Yeah, I dropped $20 into the donation coffers. I’d have bought something, but frankly, with the exception of the Milk and Cheese shirt I got last year, their designs either suck or I could never wear them outside of my room. (Cherry Poptart in bondage.....yeah......that’ll go over real well at work.) Kinda wish I could wear the Frank Miller band-aid one, as it’s the only one that A) expresses my feelings on the matter succinctly and B) doesn’t come off as puerile crap. On the other hand, I’d feel like a child molester wearing it.
Following that passing donation which took up five pages here (sheesh), I reported loyally to the Forensics 101 track. Dr. Sperry is the Medical Examiner for the entire state of Georgia, excluding Atlanta proper. For the past three years or so he’s come and done a few wildly popular tracks on the actual facts and processes of his trade, showing mortuary slides to demonstrate things like bullet wounds and ligature marks. Every year he’s got topics that are subtly different, last year doing a panel specifically on blunt trauma. Two years ago we actually had a kid pass out during his panel, freaking out the panel hostess before Dr. Sperry revived him. Most of my friends refuse to attend, thinking it’ll be too much for them to handle, but, remarkably, any real disgust usually fades within the first few minutes. Dr. Sperry looks at these things very analytically, not at all in an attempt to shock or disgust the audience, and speaks straight to the facts. He’s also really friendly, and the general effect is one of fascination towards the processes of death and decay. It sounds morbid to be talking about it, but there’s so much that is just totally alien to what we’re told in movies, that it’s hard to understand where the movies got their info. (One case he examined involved a guy shot twice in the heart with a .45 caliber revolver who subsequently GOT UP and got in a running gun battle for the four minutes left before his brain ran out of oxygen.) I recommend any of his panels as the most educational and interesting of anything I’ve ever attended at a con. Believe them, though, when they issue the warning at the start, and leave if you start feeling a little light headed. I actually had to sit down outside for a few minutes one year, and that’s the most I’ve ever been affected by _anything_. He’s actually the guy in charge of the Tri-state crematorium case, although I think he’s still under a gag order, as he didn’t mention anything about it.
Anyway, between the three panels (two of which got moved to large display rooms....after crowding the little ones for two years) I saw he covered some old ground about blood settling and patterning, gunshot range clues, a segment on asphyxiation, pet damage (by the pet, to the corpse), and a great long lecture on the stages and differences of putrefaction, mummification, and even a bit on sopanification. Interesting tidbits learned: A) Homicidal hanging is almost NEVER seen. The simple difficulty involved precludes its use. B) You don’t need to be suspended to hang yourself, just the weight of the head falling forward is sufficient to do the trick. Several suicides were shown where the body was almost kneeling on the ground. This one wasn’t a surprise to me, as I’d read Machen’s “The Great God Pan” where an epidemic of suicides happen when society men put one loop of a noose over the top of a post on a four-poster bed, sit on the bed, pull tight the noose, and just lean forward. State executions don’t actually asphyxiate, they break the neck instead. C) Just like in a lifetime special, he’s seen cases where a loyal old dog will lie down and die next to their master rather than take a bite. He’s also seen the opposite happen. Cats, however, don’t care. Poodles too, apparently. And gerbils and hamsters. One case was shown where the owner had a heart attack, and over four days the 1&1/2 year old pit-bull puppy actually skeletonized one arm and decapitated its master, playing with the skull. D) Men he’s seen commit suicide in all states of undress, but in his decades of experience, averaging 6-8 bodies a day, he said he could count on one hand the number of times a woman committed suicide in the nude, and in each of those cases the woman always had a long history of severe mental problems. E) The human body, in a state like Georgia, will rot a LOT faster than you think. Within four days the corpse is almost unidentifiable. F) Carbon Monoxide/Dioxide poisoning will turn the body a bright cherry-red. G) Don’t ask about the purge juice, foam, maggots, or cockroaches. That part’s just gross.
Out of all the slides he showed, the only one where he actually sounded angry was a series of a family whose mom and dad decided that their financial debt was just too much to handle, sealed all the windows with garbage bags, and ran a hose from the car exhaust. Killed both parents and three children. Bastards.
I stayed after to ask him a few more questions, and remembered the only weird thing about him. He has this weird little tick where he scrunches his face up every time he blinks, like he’s just walked into bright sunlight. Odd. But not as odd as the girl who asked if he was doing signings. o_O
From there I followed Vicky to the Return of the King panel, but I decided to leave since I’ve never actually read that book of the trilogy. I’m hoping to be a bit surprised by the ending, but I’ve seen the Rankin-Bass animation of it, so I don’t think it’s likely. Went to lunch, ran into MORE friends, came back briefly to stick my head in a few panel rooms, hit the dealer’s room again (told you, it’s the only place I actually like shopping), ran into MORE friends, etc.etc. you get the idea. I’m missing a couple of hours here, (Oh! Forgot I went to Dr. Sperry’s “Real or Reel” panel....man that was a pretty sick amateur horror flick by the other guys...) but on the way back between the two hotels I got the shock of a lifetime.
I ran into Molly.
Some of you may’ve heard the “Irish bar story” that I swiped about a “Molly McKee.” (I think it’s replicated somewhere in my journal) Well, this is that Molly. I haven’t seen her in nearly four years at this point, and was under the distinct impression that she was in Germany. Which made it all the more shocking to find her standing out on the smoking terrace, shouting out a greeting to me. (The terminally cool, Goths, and most extreme leather-lovers always gather out there as it’s literally the only place in the entire convention where you can smoke. This year it was apparently expected to rain, so they put up those picnic-tent-covering things. Net effect was to collect and concentrate all the clove cigarette smoke from the Goths.) Staggered a bit by her sudden manifestation, she gave me a hug and we hung out for twenty minutes or so, catching up. It’s not my place to tell her stories, but she’s been through a really rough patch of luck lately that threw my, and most of my friends’, troubles into stark perspective. She’s attempting to get her life together at the moment, and we swapped e-mail addresses before she hadda bolt, since she was only there for a little while, not actually attending the con.
From there I hooked up with Vicky and Hill and we went to fetch James and Jane for dinner at Max Lager. James is a friend from gaming, and Jane is an ex-friend from gaming, not that she’s no longer a friend, but in that, being in a strict Korean family, she eventually had to flee to California to escape the rigorous demands of her parents. Unfortunately, they were both stuck in gaming sessions until 10:00. We three sat around and played “Strange Synergy” a card/board/strategy game with illustrations by Phil Foglio while we waited for them to join us. For my money, the best combination is either invisibility and a giant magnet, teleportation and a flame thrower, or a sniper rifle and two heads.
Unfortunately, I missed something truly spectacular because of this. From what I understand, I wouldn’t’ve been able to get in and out of it anyway because of the stupid crowd management, but that’s beside the point. The main event for the night was the “Dawn Look-Alike Contest.” By Dawn, they mean the main character from “Cry for Dawn.” Now, I had a good reason for skipping this contest, but A) I was apparently wrong, and B) there were two factors I was unaware of. See, I caught this show two years ago at its inception. First of all, it was replacing the Betty-Paige look-alike contest.
Now, really.
This is Betty Paige we’re talking about. ANYTHING would’ve paled by comparison. Unfortunately, this was also the height of the adult-entertainment cycle at the con (mentioned above), and several strippers from the local nude clubs had entered, in order to advertise. I’ve nothing against that. They’re certainly welcome to compete in the COSTUME-BASED contest. Until they start stripping on stage. That was what happened the year I saw it, and I thought the frat-boy contingent response after she’d gotten down to a single piece of clothing (back turned) demeaned everyone in the room. Anthony Daniels, the MC, certainly didn’t help things either. That pretty much did it for me, despite the fact that Daniels didn’t MC since then.
Now what I didn’t know was A) a friend of mine had entered the contest, and I have it on good authority that she had an excellent costume and was quite ravishing in the part (*grumble* goddamnit, no on ever tells me ANYTHING) and B) the scheduled MC, Rowdy Roddy Piper couldn’t attend (guess why), and they called a stand-in.
They got Voltaire.
Voltaire is something of a fandom renaissance man. He’s in a band, publishing a role-playing book, draws comics, teaches stop-motion animation, and had an absolutely marvelous rapport with the audience when he’d only been given five minutes notice. Everyone loved him, and, asked to string it out during the judging decision, played a few of his songs....sorta a cross between Tom Lehrer, Timothy Leary, Weird Al, and Tim Burton. _I_ however, knew of him from way back in the early days of the sci-fi channel when he was commissioned to do a stop-motion station ID for them. In that, he introduced his main character, a Thai (I.....think.....trying to remember) girl from 31st century Manhattan named “Chi-Chian.” Ivory face and skin, convoluted armor-like black matte clothing and hair worked into a Thai-style of elaborate ridges, pointed shoes, and asymmetrical breastplates, one with a glass eye, and the other with a “listening cone.” Of course, none of this was mentioned in the station ID. A strange creature approaches and menaces Chi-Chian, she throws a switch, and two Tesla coils drive it back. Simple, but I loved that little ad for its utter complexity, skill of execution, and unique style. Basically, I saw an enormous potential for that particular artist. Later on, he produced a full series of....oddly....animated clips for release on the sci-fi channel’s webpage. (http://www.scifi.com/chichian/eps.html) I loved the detail and the style, but to be honest, the plot was largely simplistic and Mcguffin-filled. Almost absurdly fantastical, it proposed a Manhattan rebuilt in a weirdly technological style with immense organic “worm trains,” six-foot tall intelligent cockroaches, alien mutant caterpillars in control of human cults, giant mecha-bunny suits......and that’s just the start of it. The finale was almost stupidly formulaic. Despite my misgivings, however, I found out at the con and at his Sunday performance that Chi-Chian has been picked up for a full-length film.....directed by Tim Burton! And he’s started getting fan-mailish commentary from Clive Barker! (Barker called him a “God” in an online interview with an unrelated mag.) It’s just neat to see someone so talented, funny, and genuinely nice get a shot at the big time when you noticed his potential way back when he was doing commercials. His talk between songs was really hilarious on Sunday (even if that weird-ass punk girl insisted on her erratic approximation of dancing when NO ONE ELSE was even standing up. Catch a clue, girly.
The funny thing was that his performance as MC of the Dawn contest was so good, that his table completely sold out of CDs immediately afterwards. Dammit, I wanted one. Oh well, there’s always Amazon.
Following the contest (which was apparently won by an absolutely astonishing costume....I haven’t seen it yet ‘cause the popup problem has prevented my use of the internet) James Marster’s band took the stage and totally failed to impress anyone I know.
I, however, was finishing up our game, gathering our friends, and dashing to Max Lager before they closed. Just made it, and we spent the meal catching everyone up with Jane. (Apparently San Francisco is at some kind of avocado nexus, since it’s in absolutely EVERYTHING there.) This was all well and good, as it was the only time I saw her the whole con. Apparently her parents demanded some time from her while she was in town.
Following that, came back and crowd-watched. Caught the height of nudie-night with the entrance of the caution-tape girls, but sobriety blindsided me and led to a rather depressed night despite the aid lent by Casey and Sheryl. Wandered over to the Regency IV room to see how the AMVs played in a big room (apparently got themselves moved up two floors in recognition of their popularity) and was phenomenally disappointed. Jason was running things, and, while he’s got the will, he doesn’t have the skill. Walked into the “sick and depraved” block of videos (DUDE! WHY?) during the “Young Boys” to Ping-Pong Club video....the only video I’ve ever wanted to jab out my eyes for watching. Didn’t hang around. Visited the anime video room for a bit, saw the latest CPF product that I’d somehow not known existed (Pong and Dig Dug). Eventually exited, stage home.
*GASP*
Sunday! ........kachk......
*GASP*
gimmie a minu -
“Man....that goalie was pissed about SOMETHING!”
2003-08-19 19:21:26
I am sick.
I mean ill, smartass.
Seasonal fucking cold struck me down again. On top of that I feel like somewhat of a heel ‘cause I’m home today when I should be out at my friend’s place for a game. My absence means it was cancelled (no quorum). Thing is, I’ve got an important meeting on Sunday that I have to attend, which meant that all the chores and work got shoved to today. Thus didn’t have time for an all day game like usual. ‘cept now I’ve woken up with a clogged head, and the minorly feverish feelings that always prelude the absolute misery of holding my running nose over a bucket for two weeks, so I didn’t even get the work done. ‘course, if I’d gone to the game I just would’ve given everyone else there the cold.
The sad thing is that the guy running it just lost his job yesterday, and could’a used the cheering up. It was an absurdly bad job, but his degree in English doesn’t lend him towards anything else, except teaching, which he hates.
Speaking of teaching, my friend the chemistry teacher told us at the Friday night game (I was just fine then....) that her school went into three hours worth of lockdown after a stabbing incident at her school. Further emphasis on the “teaching sucks” perspective. The startling thing was that it was the first day of school....and the principal, who all the teachers hate, wasn’t even in the state during the incident. I’ve been assured that _something_ will be said/reported about this.
(Reminds me, everyone beware, I’m probably highly contagious for the next week or so.)
Plus my new roommates are theoretically moving in today and tomorrow. I say theoretically, because I was awakened at 8:00 this morning by their repeated banging on the front door as they desperately tried to work out how this “key” thing was supposed to operate. Seriously, there is no excuse for taking ten minutes to enter a building unless your key has been cut wrong or you’re in the wrong room. I let them figure it out (hey, either here or the streets) and they wandered around for five minutes in the communal area, but by the time I ventured out, they were gone already. Much of the day was spent at the lab (in the frickin’ air conditioning hell) and I haven’t seen them or sign one of their stuff since then. They were talking in something other than English, though, so looks like a lot more avoided mixers for me where they and all of their native-speaking friends hang out in the living room and say stuff I can’t possibly understand. Getting tired of this. Korean, Italian, French, and Romanian thus far.
But wait.
That wasn’t everything I did today. I went to see a movie.
Awwwwww yeahhhhhhhh.
You know which one.
Do I even have to say it?
I mean, my tagline shoulda given it away.
FREDDY
VS.
JASON
Awwwwwww HEEEELL yeah.
Now, to be honest, there’s a bunch of stuff ahead of this in the cue. There’s the last two movies from that box set Jimmy’s been lending me over.....entirely too long. There’s a discussion of the next upcoming tragedy to be visited upon comic book fans by Keanu Reeves. There’s the discussion of a weird little CBS radio play that a friend got me to listen to called “Ruby.”
But let’s face it. When you come here, you expect certain things. And top ‘o the list it the flick opened in theaters just yesterday night that immediately pegged my geek-o meter straight through the ceiling. Hell, I practically wrote a paper on Jason way back when for you all. (I think it was back in the amv.org sole days, but I’m too sick to search for it.)
Damn. Freddy vs. Jason. The hat vs. the mask. The claws vs. the machete. Camp Crystal Lake vs. Elm Street. It is difficult to express exactly how much this had me geeking out. See, unlike most other genres, horror never had a problem admitting to its nerd cult status. The endless sequels, the devolution into humor combined with horror. A genre invented and refined in cheap novels, penny dreadfuls and pulp magazines. This film, though, is a new step. A big budget indulgence. Yeah, we could make arguments about how this was a faceoff of primal sexual urges. The backwoods enforcement of puritan chaste values (Jason with his constant murder of promiscuous campers) versus the hyper-perverse sexuality of the sadist and suburbanite (Freddy’s constant obscene jokes and his previous status as a child murderer and rapist.) But the truth of the matter is it’s an enormous, expensive, indulgence of that little kid at the center of every fan who wants to play with his GI Joes and his Transformers at the same time. Who wants to take his Jason figure and his Freddy figure and smack them into one another until he plots out which one wins. This whole movie is the fantasy of some kid who wanted to see, on the big screen, what happens when the two worlds abut.
And, surprisingly enough, neither the genre, nor either component series care. Try doing that anywhere else. You wanna see a hissy fit? Try and mesh Star Wars and Star Trek in a movie. Consider the absurdity of trying to mesh dramatic or comedic films. (At this point someone will step up with an example that slipping my mind. Be kind. I’m sick. *cough* sniffle.) Do it in horror, though, and watch the fans flock.
Despite this, I think the producers had severe misgivings about this for quite a while. The movie itself has been on the back burners for....what....six years at this point? Meanwhile, both properties had declined severely in their latter films. Drawing fewer crowds and more “oh my God, there’s SIX Nightmare on Elm Streets?” comments. I think the move to make Jason X might have been a last gasp effort at reviving interest in the slasher genre outside of the “oh I’m so intelligent” parodies, takes, homages, or teen-idol-of-the-moment films that had taken their place in the theaters. I’m not sure of the sequence of things, but I’m guessing the general positive reception of the tenth Friday the Thirteenth film, and the general great fun it was, spurred them into making Jason vs. Freddy.
But wait, you say, “I’ve read your review of Jason X.....isn’t the Voorhees kid on another planet?”
Nope...you’ve gotten ahead of yourself. So, a quick review for the non-fanboies out there.
Let’s start with the headliner, in the fiery red corner. Frederick Krueger’s origin came when his mother, a nun attending to the ill at an insane asylum, accidentally got locked in the violent, criminal psychotic ward over a holiday weekend. At some point during the hundreds of times she was raped that weekend, Freddy Krueger was conceived. When fully grown, Krueger became a child killer who stalked the suburban communities where he lived. He would capture children, take them to the boiler room beneath a large factory, and there torture them to death with a set of finger-razors. He killed several handfuls of children, but was eventually caught and tried for the multiple murders. Getting off on a technicality, the parents of the Elm Street community opted for some vigilante justice, and burned Krueger to death. (I remember the story being told in the first film that they tricked him into a swimming pool filled with alcohol...but this film doesn’t recognize that, and I may be remembering wrong.) That done, they buried his body in an old junkyard. When they killed him, though, they opened the way for something worse, a daemon that dwelt in dreams, controlling the dream world utterly, and killing people by eviscerating you within the dreams. Theoretically, Freddy only wants revenge on those who burned him to death (and, by extension, their families), but he’s been known to kill anyone he happens upon, and if ever there was a figure with an ambitious lean to him... Freddy’s a naturally talkative fellow, with a taste for puns only a half-step better than the Crypt Keeper. His murders tend to be elaborate morality-plays forced upon his victims, or enormous set-pieces with an ironic bent. A girl obsessed with appearance gets turned into a roach and killed in a roach motel. A girl obsessed with eating is force-fed to death. Etc. etc. Freddy got a bit too artsy at the end, with his seventh appearance being in “Wes Craven’s New Nightmare,” where they get all metatextual on his ass, with a horror film about the films....where the film crew for the “next Freddy flick” are being beset by mysterious dreams, etc.
And, in the watery blue corner, we have Jason Voorhees. Jason Voorhees was a deformed, mentally retarded child who spent a summer at Camp Crystal Lake. The children there tormented him, and the camp counselors largely ignored it. One day Jason went out swimming in the lake alone and apparently drowned. The camp counselors who were supposed to be watching him had gotten “otherwise involved” with one another and thus couldn’t hear his cries for help. His mother, never a terribly stable woman to begin with, went on a killing spree through the camp a few years later as revenge. She was killed by the only remaining counselor. Jason then popped up, apparently not having drowned, and proceeded to slaughter camp counselors with various implements from the toolshed in vengeance for his mother’s death. Eventually, he was killed and buried. A lightning strike to the grave, however, brought him back to kill again. Effectively unstoppable, he’s been variously un-resolvedly disposed of since then until the ninth film, wherein it was revealed that he wasn’t actually a walking juggernaught of death, but a daemon who’d been inhabiting Jason’s body, and was capable of possessing anyone with Voorhees’s blood. (Don’t get me started.) At the end of nine, “Jason Goes to Hell”, he’s dropped in the express elevator to the bottommost level of the afterlife. All that’s left is his mask, scarred and pitted, lying atop a sand-pile. Suddenly, a knife-bladed glove explodes from the sand and pulls the mask under.
And then there was the tenth film. Jason’s not only back with no apparent explanation, but has already killed a bunch of people and been caught, no less. How did he come back?
Who cares?
Continuity isn’t exactly a strong selling point for these films. They’re about having fun, not telling a frickin’ epic.
And we start this new film with much the same expectation. This is important to understand, because it means that, despite the fact we know Jason to be frozen and unearthed at some unknown time in the far future, the fact we don’t expect coherent continuity means that Jason doesn’t have an advantage over Freddy in this flick. Freddy could win and kill Jason, only to have Jason rise from the grave again at some unknown period in the future. Freddy’s hardly any better. His only defense is that no one can seem to really understand what he is, and thus any definitive disposing of the critter involves dealing with so many unknowns that he could escape by methods as absurdly fabricated as those that were used to trap or kill him.
See, in the new film, Freddy’s got a problem. Seems people have forgotten all about him. The children, you see....their fear was what gave Freddy power, and without the memory of his multiple blood-soaked sprees to stir up the community, he hasn’t the power to initiate another one. This is playing fast and loose with the rules from the previous films, but, as I said, they were never very well defined to start with, so it’s permissible. Previously he seemed to be powered by the fear of those he’d killed and his victim’s fear robbed them of any power they had over their own dreams. ‘ever fear, now, Freddy’s got a plan. He’s searched the bowels of hell for a figure he can use and manipulate, and he’s come up with someone. Yup, good ol’ Jason. See, if Jason goes on a discrete spree on Elm Street, the people will start talking. And it’s not Jason they’ll be expecting, it’s Freddy. Sufficient rumor will give Freddy enough power to start lending a hand, and his return to the “talked about” club will be complete.
Oh no! Have I given away major spoilers of the plot?
Nah. If it’s told to the audience before the title sequence runs, I figger it’s fair game.
We get a brief look into Jason’s own spot in hell.....which looks remarkably like a day-in-the-life for Jason. Screaming young skinny-dipper (full frontal nudity before the titles come up.....yeah, we’re watching a slasher flick), partially-clothed run through the woods, ends on the point of a machete. This raises some interesting questions about whether or not Jason enjoys the killing, or if, having been elevated to “daemon” status means that he gets to torment the damned by chasing them through hell. Or whether this is just the dreams of the dead. Eh, probably thinking about it too much. Anyway, we get a bit of delving into the more psyco-babel-ishus aspects of the Friday the 13th films when the young girl he just murdered looks up and says “I deserved to be punished” followed by a Black-or-white morphing spectacular from one victim to the next, all reciting something similar in different words, making up a litany of sexual deviancy and punishment. This roughly outlines what constitutes the educated, literary examination of the Friday the 13th films, and what the standard fan and viewer never really considered. Frankly, this examination was made up back in the days of “subliminal messages” on rock albums played backwards, so I’ve never known how seriously to take it. The idea of the chaste woman being the only one to escape, and the number of times there’s been a post-coital killing by Jason stands in support of the idea, but it’s one of those things you’d have to check with each director before reaching any definitive conclusion. (More likely, it has something to do with the fact that a girl taking her shirt off is the cheapest special effect in movie-making today. Anyway, Jason’s mom (really Freddy in disguise) shows up to congratulate her boy, and give him new instructions about visiting all those naughty children on Elm Street. During the instructions, she refers to him as “my very special boy....remember, no matter what they do to you, you can never, ever die.” Again, this is messing with the rules a bit, as it was never explicitly stated that Jason can never die. It was practically demonstrated more times than I can count, but to just state it like that robs films of their suspense. I suspect that it was done as a “catch up” to the fans in the audience who’d only ever watched the Freddy side of things, and an attempt to define him in such a way that the Freddy fans would understand how he could be a match for their favorite to win. The speech and instructions, given in Hell, makes Jason will his decomposing body and exposed organs back to life. By sheer killing urge, Jason rises from his shallow grave once more (he turns over the earth so much, he should be buried in a compost heap!) and strikes out for Elm Street.
Opening titles run. Finally.
Incidentally, if you want to see this film in the theaters (and considering it’s topped out the box office this week (Whahoooo!), it’ll probably be there for a while) try to see it in a predominantly black part of town. I don’t mean to perpetuate a stereotype here, but damn....I was in a packed theater of people who weren’t shy about screaming at the jumps, or shouting out occasional advice (or beratements) to the actors. It’s great to be in a theater where everyone is enjoying themselves. Like seeing an animated comedy with a theater full of little kids. (As opposed to the guy sitting near me, who didn’t respond to anything throughout the whole film. I started wondering after a while if he was a “disinterested viewer” who was going to go back to work afterwards and write a vicious, seething op/ed column about how horror fans are so immured to terror and shock.)
So, was passiert auf Elm Street?
Guess.
Yup, private party, buncha’ girlfriends playing silly drinking games, and trying to hook up the chaste one with a compatible boyfriend. Lesse....there’s the chaste girl, the black girl (whoa....Kelly Rowland from “Destiny’s Child”), the jackass boyfriend, the idiot potential boyfriend, and the girl with the addiction problem. Am I over-simplifying? Well....take the jackass boyfriend. His idea of a romantic invitation to addict girl is “Come on....don’t make me tell you twice.”
Oh yeah....he’s as good as dead.
As for addict girl, I’m watching her......and watching her......and watching.....
Damn, she’s cute, I think to myself.
Watching....watching.....watching.....
Hmm....character has real self-worth problems. Taking shit from everyone about her smoking, shacking up with A-class jerkoff despite his constant putting her down, getting drunk to have fun.....hmm.....looks a little like Eliza Dushku (Faith) from Buffy......
Watching.....watching.....watc HOLY SHIT!
IT’S GINGER!
Katharine Isabelle, otherwise known as Ginger from “Ginger Snaps”! Kick frickin’ ass. A quick check on IMDB tells me that she’s working quickly towards scream queen status, with a fairly impressive list of high-end B-rate horror flicks. Including two sequels to “Ginger Snaps.” Daym. She’s got the screen presence for it, being both cute as hell and a pretty good actress. She plays it pretty good throughout the whole film, easily bumping aside the lead (Monica Keena, a slightly weird-looking actress with a passing resemblance to a young Madonna, previously “Abby” on Dawson’s Creek) both on the believability and memorability scale, despite the fact she gets offed less than halfway through the flick. Hell, I just like her. She got her vicious on with rare form in Ginger (not to mention my favorite classical monster), and here she manages the “scared out of her mind,” and “absurd, detached denial,” with equal skill. Hell, I started worrying about our two prizefighters with Ginger on the premises. (Got her own nude scene here too.....won’t pretend I object.)
So, back to the slumber party. Naturally, the power goes out. Ginger and jagoff boyfriend go upstairs to screw, where jagoff treats her just as crappily after as he did before. Ginger goes to take a shower, and Jason slips in, in her stead. Actually, this moment feels a lot more like Halloween than Friday the 13th. The psycho stalking suburbia has always been Michael Meyers realm of expertise, not Jason’s. Similarly, suddenly appearing at the bedside was a stunt of Meyer’s. Jason was always the slowly plodding Frankenstein figure who somehow always caught up with the victims despite his undead pace. Or a fleeing victim would turn a corner or round a tree, and come upon him standing there with the latest implement of workshed doom.
At any rate, Jason does the dirty to jagoff boyfriend, and finishes by folding him, and the bed, in half. Ginger is unreasonably upset when she comes out and finds him. (And Jason didn’t peg anyone else on the way out? Huh. Must be winded from being dead for a few years.)
Long story short, the plan works. The cops who’ve been in the area long enough whisper the name “Freddy Krueger” to one another within earshot of the surviving kids. The kids start passing the name along to one another. And the dreams start. Scary ones, yes, but not deadly yet. A shadowy, long-fingered figure makes a stab at one survivor, but passes right through him with no damage. (My audience burst out laughing at this.) A little girl who’s lost her peepers tells us all –the- rhyme. “One-two, Freddy’s coming for you.....three-four, better lock your door.....five-six, grab your crucifix.....” etc. But he’s still not strong enough to do anyone in yet. Jason gets to play in the sandbox alone for a bit longer, and offs another two.
Meanwhile, we get handed all the old chestnuts of the modern slasher flick. Turns out that chaste girl is chaste because her one true love is off in an insane asylum...watched over by her father, the psychoanalyst. Crazy boyfriend escapes with much cleverer friend to come check on her. Interestingly, cleverer friend knows about Freddy, and manages to make the whole situation worse by spooking the whole school when he overhears chaste girl talking about ol’ long-fives. Also, we meet poor nerd-boy, the short, rejected Velma of the Scooby group.
Everyone decides to take a break for the Halloween holiday and forget their troubles by going to a rave. In the middle of a corn field. Damn, do they know they’re in a horror flick or what? This is where the essential conflict arises. See, between the three deaths thus far and the scene at the school, Freddy finally has enough power to begin killing on his own again. Jason, however, keeps ruining his meal. Ginger, buzzed on Everclear and dope, passes out in the field, and follows her dead boyfriend into the corn silo...which slowly converts into the infamous boiler room. She slips away from Freddy once, but can’t find her way out, and is reduced to the ineffectual shock that characters usually manage.
Jason, meanwhile, is furious that he didn’t get invited to the rave, shows up, gets set on fire, participates in the machete-javelin throw, and generally lays about himself, killing half a dozen teens on the way. Walking towards center stage, Jason spots Ginger and an opportunistic little shit, and skewers them both.....just as Freddy closed in on Ginger in her dreams.
You should see the exasperation.
On top of everything else, Jason stacks up a more impressive body count in the two minutes of corn-shucking than Freddy manages in the entire film. Which means that Freddy’s legend is slipping out of the limelight of the kiddies he’s trying to scare. Man, it’s hard to find good help these days.
So, Freddy’s pissed at Jason. Jason....well, he doesn’t even know about Freddy, really, but still, the program is winding up for a showdown.
But how could they fight? Jason, being undead, or whatever he is, doesn’t sleep, and Freddy doesn’t really exist in the physical world. I mean, choose your battleground, but there’s nowhere that both could show up at.
Or is there?
Meanwhile, bunch o’ crap involving our remaining victims. (Sorry, I lost most of my interest in the remainder when they killed Ginger. Blerg. And chaste girl really does look kinda weird.) Basically, the kids and the only cop on the force with a clue discover that the town was able to “forget” about Freddy by removing all evidence that he ever existed, and institutionalize any of the kids who’d encountered him, drugging them with Hypnocil, an experimental drug to suppress dreaming. Terrible side effects, naturally. Also, there’s a slightly convoluted story involving the long-past death of chaste’s mom which provides her the motivation necessary to take sides in the upcoming battle.
There’s a chase through the insane asylum as the drowsy kids search for more hypnocil, cut short by Jason’s attempt to get himself admitted for observation. (He rethinks this decision later.)
Finally, we get to the main event. The real fight takes place in two parts. One in the dream realm, and one in the real world.
So who wins? Well, there’s a lot of stuff to consider here. First of all, Freddy’s not at the top of his game. According to the story, he’s just on the comeback trail after four years of obscurity. Honestly, it shows. His set pieces are missing. Big elaborate staged ironic killings are his trademark, but instead he’s defaulting to his place of power, the boiler room. The attempted deaths just end with simple stabbing or beheadings, not the ludicrous gallows-humor of the giant nail-bed or deafening hearing-aid of previous years. Though he’s got a good number of quips, he really only manages one creative move in the film, where the resident shaggy of this Scooby-group “reefer”, hallucinates an enormous caterpillar with a hooka crawling in to help him with his buzz. Jason, being the walking juggernaught of death he’s always been, is having a pretty average day, though he’s not branching out from the classic machete. Usually, he’d work through a dozen weapons in as many kills. Here he only improvises once. On the other hand, we have to keep in mind that Freddy’s original, and Jason ain’t. Freddy, as he’s always been, is played by Robert Englund. Jason’s had about eight different actors over the years (Kane Hoder being the only repeat) and he’s got a brand new actor this time (Ken Kerzinger, a pro stunt-man, background walker, and TV actor). That would give Freddy an edge with the horror homies.
Then let’s look at the weapons. Machete vs. finger razors. Size vs. quantity. Essentially strength vs. speed. Tough judgement there.
Fairly close match-up here. The real deciding factor is the homefield advantage. I mean, everyone knows this, right? Hell, even the characters in the movie know it. Jason gets knocked unconscious with a double-shot of tranquilizer. He goes down, and Freddy picks up. In the realm of the boiler room, Jason holds his own for a few minutes, dismembering Freddy first thing. Of course, this means nothing in Freddy’s world, and Freddy has him bouncing off the piping and dropping great heavy objects on him for the remainder of the fight. Not that is has much effect, but Jason can’t land a blow either. Meanwhile, the scoobies have a plan. They’ve tied up Jason (HA!) and are driving....to Crystal Lake. In the dream realm, Freddy’s finally found something that scares Jason.
Drowning.
This does, and does not make sense. Jason’s waded out into Crystal Lake on more than one occasion, so fear of drowning doesn’t really match up well. On the other hand, he was defeated once (#6, I think) when the surviving victim got a weight chained around his neck to pull him to the depths, and it’s really the only way to make sense of the end of #8, in Manhattan. Combined with his origin story, it does constitute his only weakness.
Plunging into Jason’s memories, Freddy recreates the campsite scene where Jason originally “died”. Jason reverts back to the poor, deformed kid being picked on by everyone else and ignored by the counselors. No question, Freddy’s winning. The problem, though, is Freddy’s weakness. He can’t help but prolong things so that he can gloat. Do the subtle tweaking. Make the clever jokes. If he’d just killed Jason, first chance, the fight would be over. See, if this was a house, Freddy would be the interior decorator. Talky. Elaborate. Detail-oriented. Takes his time. Jason is the guy you call when you just want the job done. The drywall guy. The plumber. Matter-o-fact, to the point. The antithesis of the “speech before killing you” repetition in anime. Problem is, Jason wakes up.
So what? I mean, it’s not like he can fight Freddy here, right? Wrong.
Those of you who’ve seen the original, think back to the first Elm Street. Remember how they could pull Freddy into the real world? Well, the kiddies coordinate Freddy’s coming out party, and the shit truly does hit the fan.
Awwww Yeah.......it’s on now, bitch.
(Before I forget, this film managed to confirm the total bankruptcy of the word “bitch”. Everyone calls everyone else “bitch” regardless of gender or situation.)
I gotta confess that I’ve been on Jason’s side the whole time. I knew how it _should_ end, and how it likely _would_ end (mutual deathblows is the only resolution that doesn’t leave the critters still killing kids), but that didn’t mean I knew the outcome. But I had to side with Jason on this one, and I’ll give you two good reasons why. A) Jason is older-school than Freddy. Hell, other than Leatherface, Jason’s practically the original. He’s had three more movies than Freddy. I mean, CRONENBURG volunteered to be killed in Jason X. Jason got a lifetime achievement award from MTV. Freddy’s no slouch, and has carved out a side niche for himself, but Jason, he’s the damn icon of the genre. B) Jason may be a killer, but Freddy’s an asshole. Jerks and assholes never survive horror films. Anyone else may be killed as well, but the jerks will always get it in the end, and usually in the worst possible way. When the black chick buys it (because she doesn’t have the L.L. Cool J. clause in her contract) Freddy quips “how sweet....DARK meat!” and the whole audience just went “oh HELL no! You din’ just say that...” and you instantly knew whose side they were on. Didn’t matter that Jason did the actual killing of her.
The fight proceeds in a fashion more in tune with a prop-heavy WWE match. I think they even parody this on purpose. Freddy goes into a number of classic shoulder-blow takedowns in a desperate attempt to get Jason off his feet. Jason finally gets a hold of Freddy, sticks his head through a window, and runs him down the length of a shed. Freddy keeps hopping around, stabbing, slicing, gouging, but unable to get any real response from the behemoth. Jason keeps taking those phenomenal horse-cutting strokes of his with the oversized machete, but can’t seem to land a blow. The fight moves to a construction site on the shores of Crystal Lake, where Jason gets speared by falling rebar, clocked by a swinging cement mixer, and he and Freddy are run over by a dump truck on a ramp. Finally, Freddy manages a near-deathblow....he cuts off Jason’s fingers, and Jason drops the machete. After Freddy goes after him with his own machete, Jason returns the favor, and tears off Freddy’s arm. The Scoobies set off a fire under propane tanks (they’re rooting for Jason too) and the resulting explosion hurls both combatants into the lake. Freddy shakily emerges with Jason’s machete. He prepares to off the last two Scoobies (chaste girl and crazy boyfriend)......and Jason impales him from behind on the glove-arm.
That’s right, Jason tore off Freddy’s arm, and beat him with it. Freddy falls to his knees, and chaste girl beheads him. A TBH in the fourth round, just like Darius predicted. Jason lets go of the dock, and weakly slips back into the depths.
Movie effectively ends. Leaving an enormous number of plot threads unresolved. There’s all the kids at the asylum suffering the overdose effects of hypnocil. The police who still blame all the killings on Jason. The fact that Jason, the one with the most kills to record, actually slipped away. The cops still searching for crazy boyfriend. Aw well. We didn’t really care about the victims anyway. (‘Cept Ginger.....*snf*)
Final scene, cool as hell picture of Crystal Lake....and Jason surfaces, walking out of the placid waters toward shore. As he comes out of the depths, we can see he’s carrying his machete....and Freddy’s head. Which winks at us as it goes by. Well, of course. It’s not like they were going to end the Nightmare flicks after this. Does likely mean that the two won’t meet again, though. What with Jason getting frozen in the near future.
In final analysis, perhaps the epitome of popcorn slasher flicks. The whole concept just screams movie-marathon. Honestly, this was much more of a Friday the 13th film than an Elm Street story in mood and concept. Freddy really doesn’t come off that well this time around, either in his own machinations or in the final battle. Thus a definite thumbs-up for the Jason fans, and a more tentative, “if you don’t mind this and that regard of the plot” for Freddy fans. If you’re not a fan of horror, stay the hell away. It’s geek indulgence that makes Star Trek V look reasonable.
Hmmm.... what else. Well, during the previews for upcoming movies, I saw a trailer for the remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Not sure what to think of that. That movie is the true original slasher, or true slasher in it’s full form. There was, of course, Psycho and it’s redundants before TTCM, but that still had much of the mystery and detective drama about it. TTCM brought in the degenerate monsters, the on-screen gory and painful killings, and the icon of the “final girl” as well as the chases through the night and the “Ten Little Indians” whittling down of the cast, and the “twist when they go for help.” The remake looks like it’s going to be seriously altering much of the story, adding in a “girl who escaped previously” which kind of ruins a lot of the concept. Eh, I’m no purist, but I’d rather not see a ludicrous remake, and just watch a reissue of the original on DVD. (Which I’m sure there has been, and I’ve missed it.) TTCM really is almost as horrific as it sounds like it would be, but only through plain skill of the cinematographer and director, who knew how and what to show when, and how to add just enough insanity and terror to reach the pinnacle of “scary” without falling into the trough of “grotesquely funny.”
In a similar vein was “Highway Man”....the story of a hit-and-run artist who’s been running people down for fun. The story is told from the perspective of one of his victims and another who’s been hunting the Highwayman. Looks like it’ll be a “super secret surprise” moment when they finally get a good look at him. Could be good.
Then there’s “underworld”....the White Wolf world with a Romeo and Juliet story woven in. Vampires vs. Werewolves. Anyone who reads this slot knows which side I’m on.....but I’m also realistic, and know that vampires are way more popular than the lupine. I’m especially disappointed with the insertion of the R&J. They invent this whole cool world, with new rules, new ideas, new ways of thinking, and they plunk a 500-year old plot into the middle of it. Seriously, with such a beautiful world to play in, couldn’t they have been a bit more creative than to fall back on that old plot? “Oh....but won’t it be interesting to see how it plays out in this world?”
No. No it won’t. We already know how the play ends. The only difference is that Juliet is dressed in latex and PVC corset, and Romeo has a hair problem. And I had such hopes for this film.
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Brak advertising the Big O.
2003-08-11 08:45:09
Been away quite a while, haven’t I. Yeah, yeah, neglect. Well, be happy you’re getting this much. I’ve been a busy man lately, and much of my creativity has been going elsewhere....which will probably be evident in the lackluster nature of this particular post.
So let’s see....news... Hmmm. Well, I could go on about work, but to be truthful, today’s was pretty much summed up by “I spent six hours trying to unknot the intestines of Microsoft Word.” Anyone want to hear the details on that?
Didn’t think so.
On the other hand, the CoC game I’m hosting is going pretty well, considering it has no real overall direction at the moment. That usually turns out to be the case with all the CoC games I run, because I highly favor a mystery and horror archetype for the story structure. A “whodunit” that ends in something terrible happening, exceeding the player’s expectation of the danger level, catching them off guard, and confronting them with, for lack of a better word, the monster.
The problem with this is that it doesn’t really lend itself to long stories. A long arc that is complicated enough to maintain the “whodunit” aspect where they’re not really certain what’s going on will become absurdly complicated...beyond the capacity of the characters to keep up. (And I’m giving the players a lot of credit here...once ran a story arc that went eight 12-hour sessions without a single combat and everyone still lists it as the best game I’ve run....but it was just inside their ability to piece it all together without leaving anything out. Something complicated enough to entertain for a year’s worth of sessions would be beyond anyone’s ability to piece together, much less for me to HOLD together.) On the other hand, a really long horror arc will either be all build up ended with an enormous anticlimax, or players will confront the horror early, run screaming a few times, and then the horror aspect will become everyday. Like vampires in BtVS. Who worried about Vampires after the third season?
The only alternative I seem to be really good at is the “coincidence brought them together, interest caused them to seek it out” idea, which really leads to a long string of unrelated adventures all episodically self-contained. Story-structure-wise, it’s crap. “Monster of the week” Scooby-doo effect. In effect and mood, though, this gives me much more latitude for coming at them from an unexpected angle, and giving a bit of a shock every other game, instead of once a month. Week before last it was a phlogiston-powered Frankenstein, this last week it was something brought up during a séance. Actually got the best available comment from all the players when a friend, one of the most proficient power-gamers (think Brian, but less of a looser) I know came back into town and offered to run a session or two of his D&D game. His games are really phenomenal, in that he always manages to exactly gauge the party strength and confront us with something that _almost_ kills the whole party. We level damn fast, the story’s pretty good, and honestly it’s the most fun I’ve ever had playing D&D. Well, when he proposed it online, all the other players UNANIMOUSLY wanted to keep playing mine instead. Daymn. (And damn, I wanted to play D&D....and I have absolutely no idea what I’m gonna run tomorrow. This missive may be short so I have time to try and come up with something.)
On the other hand, they may just be excited about the prospect of loot. Doesn’t come along often, in CoC, and even more rarely in large quantities, but I made something of a slip. In supplying scenery and props for the séance, I detailed the exhibit room of a wealthy occult collector, including dozens of interesting items. During the course of the adventure, the collector got hisself deaded. The player’s immediate response was “first chance we get....we LOOT THE HOUSE.” Drat. With one exception, it really was just an exhibit hall, but it’d be crappy of me to deny them the opportunity to walk away with a couple of items. I guess I’ll just say that the police are on their way, and they’ve only got a chance to grab a couple of things. Should go well with the items they looted from the previous session....42 carefully sealed opaque bottles. Too bad they don’t know that they’re full of phlogiston. If they ever manage to open one, it’s gonna flash-fry whoever’s holding it and burn down the building he’s standing in.
Believe it or not, I was actually planning on setting down a little dissertation here to restore the reader’s faith in humanity. (No, it has nothing to do with current politics...except in a really roundabout way.) See, this has to do with honest-to-God evil. I’m not gonna appeal to it as some deistic influence from the pit, so those getting the religious heebie-jeebies can keep reading. I’m not gonna refer to it as a separate, sentient force like some kind of quanta of energy pooling around people and “making them do bad things.” I’m gonna attempt to deal with it straight, which is to say, deal with it by visible outcomes and intents. Why? Because I’ve gotten a bit fed up with the way that the word’s been tossed around lately. Used to describe random individuals in or out of power, or used as a moniker for the odd end of goth “cool,” some sort of fashion statement of the mind, an intellectual’s leather jacket and deviant lifestyle in a desperate attempt to weasel one’s way into the company of those who wear their kinks on the outside. Look, telling a fictional story whereby someone’s favorite character dies horribly or is otherwise affected is not “evil.” Nor is dashing expectations, telling people off, ridiculing people behind, or in front of, their backs. Practical jokes, no matter how cruel, don’t really stack up with actual evil.
And this is what always astonishes me. Look anywhere, in any kind of community, and stop for a moment and think of the actual, true alternatives to what you are seeing. This world runs on what nearly anyone would tell you is a fool’s gambit.
Good intentions.
How does this society, day after day, keep from falling apart? Human beings are massively willful individuals, concentrating selfishly on every aspect of themselves before considering another, and yet everything keeps running smoothly. When things do become disrupted, more often than not, it’s either through incompetence or ignorance (or very occasionally, insanity), not intent. Just stop and think for a moment about Atlanta. The city contains over 400,000 people, and yet runs smoothly. Out of 400,000 people, how many of them do you think are honest-to-God “evil”? Before you answer, consider the actual power of one individual. An individual who actually wanted to cause pain and death in the city could do so with practically no effort at all, just by recognizing the opportunity. I, personally, could cause half a dozen deaths a year through casual opportunities and planned sabotaging. I could drive along the interstate with $0.50 worth of concrete nails (The rough-hewn metal ensures it’ll be picked up by tires) and just toss one out “accidentally.” Out of the thousands of cars that would pass over it, hours, or even days, later would hit it square and have a blowout. Of those, maybe one in twenty would have a resulting fatality. Hell, a pedestrian could do the same thing (and did, once, in LA). Three handfuls could kill a dozen with the right timing. Similarly, random poisonings are simplistic. Everyone has half a dozen things at their disposal that would kill upon ingestion, and administering them carefully in a supermarket would be simple as hell. A lot of you reading this are probably too young to remember the aspirin tampering cases back when I was a kid, but I assure you, there’s little enough been done to prevent a repeat. Round about the same time, someone put a couple of pipe bombs with long fuses behind racks in a grocery store. Simple steel pipe, sawdust, and match-heads. Only killed one stockboy, as I recall. I remember a comic once (from Heavy Metal, no less) where someone took a syringe into the grocery store, sucked a few mils of bleach outta a container, and shot it into a bottle of bottled water. Hell, movies today are practically instruction books on these events. “In the Line of Fire” details an absurdly simple technique that would get a gun past any current screening practices at ANY airport. Think of the minor villain in Unbreakable, the guy who just took over a wealthy family’s house by walking in the back door. If you open your eyes to these possibilities, you begin seeing them everywhere. You start to see the ways in which those strangers just stop by the side of the playground, grab a little kid, and make off with them. You can easily see how the beltway sniper got away for so long. On the even more sinister end, you can start seeing how Jeffery Dahmer got away with it for so long. Here’s the most profound impression: see, anyone can be killed by anyone else. It’s the easiest thing in the world, provided two conditions. A) The victim isn’t expecting it, and B) The killer doesn’t care about getting away. Theoretically, you could be walking along a crowded street, and the guy standing next to you could stab you to death. Sure, he’ll be hauled away and, if you’re lucky, the crowd will grab the guy before he gets in another swing, but it only takes one good poke to kill a person. And yet, despite this, we don’t regard the people around us as potential killers.
Why not?
Because the number of truly evil people in the world is minute. If it was one in fifty, we’d regard every person on the street a potential killer or rapist until they’d passed. If it was one in a thousand, we wouldn’t risk driving anywhere for fear that someone would just stick a shotgun out the window and start shooting. Even if it was one in a hundred thousand that would be four individuals in Atl., and given the capabilities of an individual I demonstrated above, that would lead to massive disruptions to the city. For all the thousands of people on the road today, none of them intentionally swerved to cause an accident. None tried to time it so the semi would have to jackknife in order to avoid a collision. I could get into the spiel about social compact, but let’s be honest. In order to follow the social compact, you have to believe in it. And there are far more people who don’t believe in it than there are genuinely evil people in Atl.
“Oh! But wait” you say, “look at the homicide statistics! That’s sure more than four people!” To which I say, you haven’t been listening. Out of all the killings, how many are done through botched muggings? How many out of greed? Passion? Revenge? “Temporary Insanity” (otherwise known as loosing your temper and not wanting to deal with the consequences). Yeah, it’s bad, and no, it’s not excusable, but these aren’t done solely out of the evil nature of the killer. It’s done out of a sense of desperation, loss of temper, disappointment, greed, not the sole motivation of _desiring_ this death and pain.
This struck me a while back during the trip up to WI. We stopped in Bloomington Illinois on our way up and picked up a paper. On the second page was a story of a new homeowner shocked to discover that the house he owned had been the site of _that_ crime. (Sensitive readers look away.) Seems the previous woman who had owned the house had taken in her orphaned niece only to torment her. She kept the girl tied prone with lengths of wire in the basement, repeatedly beat, raped, branded, blinded, and cut the girl over a length of about eight months, until the girl finally died of a brain hemorrhage brought on by the injuries and dehydration a few days before the cops discovered her. (The most disturbing bit was a single phrase in there where it said the woman “invited other neighborhood children in to torment the girl.” I don’t like the implications.)
Undeniably, this disturbed me. But what really struck me at that moment was “why am I surprised?” From what we’re always being told, the prevalence of sexual imagery in the world and entertainment today is turning every man into a rapist, the violence is turning every person into a killer, and women are regarded as naught but objects. Violence is glorified, sex is epitomized, human life is rendered worthless. But the times it’s actually occurred, to the extent, purpose and intent we’ve been led to believe are now commonplace in everyone’s mind, horrify us to disbelief. The Jeffery Dahmers, Charles Mansons, John Wayne Gaceys, Springheel Jacks, and this charming lady are actually “evil” in my humble estimation. Sadists in the truest sense of the word, not the erotic play-actors. People who realized the essential trust that lies at the center of all human society, knew how easy it was to abuse it, and chose to manipulate it so they could kill or torture people to death. Anyone can come to these conclusions. It’s presented to us daily in the mediums of horror, suspense, and mystery.
So where’s the restoration of your faith in humanity?
It’s in the fact that practically no one actually does it. Practically no one ever even considers it. The information and material is out there, readily available to whoever looks for it, especially now that the internet is up and running, providing access to the collected works of mankind on the subject.
And no one is taking advantage of it.
On the contrary, keeping society’s forward momentum up actually requires a modicum of positive reinforcement from nearly every member. The crazy hermit is the exception to the rule, not the rule itself. The degree to which every person actually participates in a positive manner with the world at general is really astonishing given my naturally dim view of human nature.
On an entirely different track, Niel Gamian linked to the American Library Association’s “Banned Books Week” homepage last week: http://www.ala.org/Content/NavigationMenu/Our_Association/Offices/Intellectual_Freedom3/Banned_Books_Week/Challenged_and_Banned_Books/Challenged_and_Banned_Books.htm
I did a bit of hunting through there, but despite a link stating to the contrary, there’s no actual list of banned books in there. What they _do_ have is the 100 most “challenged” books of the past two decades, meaning the hundred books that people have most attempted to have banned. Rather weird really. Out of all of these challenges, very few go through, but some of them _must_ have actually gotten banned somewhere. The system of “challenges” wouldn’t be used by anyone if it had a 100% rejection rate. I’m more curious about successful challenges,
Nevertheless, the list itself is instructive. Here. Let’s take a look at 1990-2000:
Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
Holy crap. Number one on the list, and it’s a book I’ve already mentioned here. Scariest fucking children’s book ever, hands down. Stories were kinda lame at times, but those drawings...damn. I think this is the only book that would actually give me nightmares by its mere presence in the room. These books _traumatized_ me as a kid. Loved every minute.
Daddy’s Roommate by Michael Willhoite
There’s an old one. I remember the controversy over this book from when I wasa young‘un. A “coping” book for kids living with gay parents. Or sharing time with them. The national stick-your-head-in-the-sand organization must’ve headed the opposition to this one. “If we admit to kids that there are gay couples out there who are well-adjusted and loving, and capable of not fucking up children by their mere presence, then it might actually be true! Quick! Hide the book!”
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
Hmm...first classic and it’s # 3 on the list. They’re slipping...
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
Heard about this one being banned for years when I was in elementary school. Never read it, have no idea why it drew so many arrows.
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
I wonder if anyone bothers to actually challenge these any more, or if it’s just the accumulation of citations from thirty years ago that keeps ‘em at the top of the list. (I think this is an update to a cumulative list.
Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
NUMBER SSSSEEEEEEVVVVVEN WITH A BULLET! Let’s all give the newcomer a hand. Congratulate her for writing an essentially harmless book that became the focus of concerned parents groups everywhere merely by being really popular and making kids read. Must’ve been dirty/evil for such a thing to happen. And still two books from the end! Here’s hoping she can climb even higher.
Forever by Judy Blume
Eh. I was more of a Ruth Chew fan. No ideas on this one, though Judy Blume gets a lotta heat from parents for _some_ reason. Probably by not baby-talking the kids.
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
Damn, this brings back memories. Required reading for me in fourth grade. A quick browse tells me that this one was challenged for “occult material.” You know what? In fourth grade, I didn’t even know what the hell that meant. Parents read and infer stuff that the kids would never get. (Ooooohhhh. Subliminal...) Story of two childhood friends that escape trouble at home by going to a special place across a stream in the pine woods. The “occult” mus’ve come from the description of the pine forest, as they make mention of spirits of the woods, and strange fairyland atmosphere. I had a place almost exactly like that out back of my house (including the old grapevine). At the end of the book the girl goes there in the rain and the vine breaks. Cracks her head against the slate streambed and drowns. I was a little more careful on the vines after that.
Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
Hmmm. Girly book. Woulda stayed away from it like the plague. Cooties, you know.
Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
See #2. I think. I’M NOT LISTENING, I’M NOT LISTENING! OOOHHHH SAYYYYY CANNN YOUUUUU SEEEEE.....
My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
That’s a hell of a title. Story about the revolutionary war apparently. Probably didn’t portray the revolutionaries as saints, and some insistently patriotic twip objected.
The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
Somewhere near the top of my “should have read this by now” list. The favorite book of my roommate in undergrad.
The Giver by Lois Lowry
Whoa. Friend was trying to get me to read this one just last week. Weird coincidence.
It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
Ah! Sex ed reveals it’s penitent head. Hell, they’ll learn it here or in the street. I don’t think anyone’s actually had “the talk” since 1968.
Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
Our Stepen King on training wheels. (No offense to either intended.) There were spooky stories for kids before Stine, but not in one big series so easily targeted. Poor Stine. Is he still around? I think his TV series died, and I know he tried to break into adult fiction, but I’ve heard not word one since back when Oxford books was around.
A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
Hmm... Got nothin’
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
Ditto. Though, again, I wonder if this one is still on the list because of all the opposition to integration of schools in the south way back when. I guess they figured that if they couldn’t stop student integration, the least they could do is close their eyes, stick fingers in their ears, and take all the books with black characters out of the school library.
Sex by Madonna
Can anyone tell me why the hell this thing was bound in tin? Who thought that was a good idea? Was the softcover in aluminum? Seriously, this was widely considered a pathetic plea for attention. Entire shipment got banned in....uh....somewhere in Europe, built up all this fallout press in the US before it was released, and then it got over here, everyone opened the brick, went “ewwwwww” and it promptly disappeared into the woodwork to join “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band: The Movie” in the pop culture stunt graveyard.
Earth’s Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
Better known as the “Clan of the Cave Bear” series. Guess who was trying to get this banned. Gowannn.....guess. Yep, damn flat-earther anti-evolutionarians.
The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
Boy, two in the top 21. Katherine Paterson just can’t stay outta trouble. This one touches on the world of foster children. Or so says the web. Another one I missed as a kid....looked girly.
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
OK, now it’s fucking personal. A Wrinkle in Time is a GREAT book, and one of the first ones that got me into science fiction. It’s also complicated enough that I barely remember anything about the story. Had a sort of “The Lion the witch and the Wardrobe” quality about it, and revolved around a couple of kids and three very strange women who are aliens and take them on trips across the galaxy...though I can’t really recall why. Was followed by A Wind at the Door (whose cover fascinated me as a child) and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. Don’t think I ever actually finished the story.
Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
Zuh? I’m guessing it’s not the song by Jefferson Airplane. Let’s wander into Google here....wow. Weird. It’s an anti-drug book, and appears to be a second-cousin of Jack Chick to judge from the reviews. Wonder which direction it got attacked from...and why the author is anonymous.
Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
War, Vietnam, you do the math.
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
Oh good grief. Sendak is the guy who wrote the original wild child book “Where the Wild Things Are.” This is another “having a dream” book where the kid “Mickey” explores a giant kitchen. The illustrations, however, have Mickey in the buff while doing it, and this apparently prompted _someone_ with a filthy mind to extrapolate that it was a wet dream pedophilia fantasy. I swear, some people have sex on their mind 24/7. Check here if you want to try and comprehend this idiotic argument: http://www.northern.edu/hastingw/kitchen.htm
The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
Mind starting to boggle..... If memory serves, this was one of those “everything is different and backwards...and thus funny!” books with about 40 words per page and great big cartoony illustrations. Think “Clifford the Big Red Dog” only more cluttered. How did anyone find enough in these books to object to that it climbed this far up the list?
The Witches by Roald Dahl
The only reason that Roald Dahl isn’t further up this list is that parents don’t actually read his books. If they did, there’d be caterwauling such as you’ve never heard. This one I’ve actually read a complaint on. Apparently the teacher thought it was a horrible book because the “boy had to live on as a mouse at the end.” (Don’t tell the people who watched the movie.) The occult angle doesn’t apply, since it’s obviously portrayed as bad...even for witches.
The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
Whoa. Silverstein? .....oh wait...that’s further down the list. And not “Charles.” Nasty start there for a moment. Was afraid this was written in verse. Anyway, at least it’s comprehendible why someone tried to ban this one, for the same know-nothing reasons as #2 and 11. Maybe if gay people have nothing but bad sex, they’ll stop being gay and bothering the hell outta certain political factions! “Narf!”
Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
Hmmm....can’t find anything. Looks like the series just got caught up in the fallout from her other book, the Giver.
The Goats by Brock Cole
Hmm...never heard of it. My know how starts getting a bit thin on the ground here...anyone else want to volunteer some info on the blank spots is more than welcome to do so. I’ll just leave those I don’t know without comment.
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
Never read it, but heard of it. Pretty violent autobiographical novel about a black “Kaffir” (infidel) in South Africa during apartheid. Again, rather puzzling. I wonder which side hit this one, and for what reason?
Blubber by Judy Blume
Boy, Blume is really hogging the spotlight isn’t she?
Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
Bunch of high school kids plan to scare their English teacher, but the teacher accidentally winds up dead instead. From a student review of the book: “One good lesson I learned from Killing Mr. Griffin was never plan to threaten your English teacher because the plan may not turn out the way it was intended.”
Now why would the schools ban a book that taught such a valuable lesson? (No, you stupid spellchecker, not “lesion”.)
Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
An ABC book. Mind steadily boggling now....Uh....overwrought parents concerned about cartoons of children in witch costumes? Doesn’t the PTA have anything better to do?
We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
Final Exit by Derek Humphry
Entirely forgotten about this one. Another controversy I vaguely remember. For those too young to be around during the controversy, this book was basically a how-to home repair guide for suicide, working from the premise that, if you were going to off yourself, the least they could do was tell you how to do it painlessly, rather than leaving you gasping futily with the phone cord around your neck and your big toe on the ground for two hours before finally going.
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood
Hunh. Sounds like Iran.
Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
I swear I was assigned this book in school....but I don’t think I ever actually read it.
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
Nobel Prize winner coming through. Don’t know this one, but the controversy appears to concern incest and rape portrayed in the book.
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
Wow. Denial city. Anyone else thinking of Carrie’s Mom in the Stephen King book when she told her daughter that she must’ve had sex, or she wouldn’t be getting a period?
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Here we are. The big one. Any kid in the US that went through school after 1980 who WASN’T required to read this book? I know it’s practically ubiquitous here in the south, and when (Chicago? Buffalo? I forget) that city decided to have everyone read a single book and set up chat sites and city-wide discussions on it, “To Kill a Mockingbird” was at the very top of the list. For the six US citizens who _haven’t_ read it, takes place during the depression and concerns Atticus Finch, a single attorney. The story is told from the perspective of his daughter “Scout.” Atticus Finch is portrayed as the sort of man who will do the things which need to be done. He’s called for to put down a rabid old dog at one point in symbolic representation of this, but a large part of his story is devoted to the legal defense of Tom Robinson, a black man accused of beating and raping a white woman. It’s plain to everyone present that the man is innocent, because, due to a thresher accident, one of his arms is horribly crippled, but the sensation surrounding the trial won’t permit anyone to admit that maybe the young woman invited him in. The legal system is horribly corrupted against Robinson, and a guilty verdict is brought in. The husband of the woman Tom Robinson is accused of beating was thoroughly humiliated by Atticus during the trial, where it was intimated that it was his hands that did the beating, and the man (Bob Ewing) attempts to kill Scout in revenge, but is stopped by a terminally shy neighbor “Boo” Radley. Rather than subject the man to the rigors of a trial, the Sheriff arranges things so Ewing appears to have fallen on his own knife, rather than return to the corrupt court system. This book got hit from half a dozen different directions all at once in the south.
Beloved by Toni Morrison
Nice tight grouping by Toni Morrison, though this one is her Nobel prize winner and it’s listed lower than her other work on the challenged book list. Too bad. Basically challenged because of the moral ambiguity of a woman killing her children to spare them a life of slavery.
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Pigman by Paul Zindel
Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
Deenie by Judy Blume
Hmm...big block here I’ve never read, though I’ve heard of #43.
Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
Annnnd...another block of books I’ve never read. Like I said, knowledge getting a bit thin on the ground. Saw a play of #47, but I wasn’t paying too much attention.
A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
Who the hell objects to Shel Silverstein? How do you find something objectionable enough in a bunch of children’s absurdist poetry? For that matter, why isn’t Alice in Wonderland on this list for all the absurd poetry here? Why, naturally, because that’s a classic....whereas, uh...
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
Hey! One that’s sitting on my bookshelf! Actually, this book is interesting and controversial in the “let’s discuss it” kind of way, but I don’t think it’s nearly as vicious or violent, or dystopian as, say, 1984, which was required reading for me in 6th grade. It’s actually written very simplistically by comparison, as though it were aiming for the un-ambitious 10-11th grade reader bracket.
Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
Ah.... I can tell you why this one, the only actual hardcore porn title, is on here. Because Anne Rice’s Vampire novels (not even on here) got kids interested enough in Anne Rice that they tracked down everything she’d ever written, including these fairly mild but rather explicit fantasy BDS&M novels. Then some parent, who might’ve given a pass to the Vampire novels, picked up these big-print, fairly short books, and the screaming started. Hell, my friends at school discovered these their junior year, when the goth thing really took off. Think it’s passed? My friend Vickey told me she caught a student of hers halfway through “The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty” in her chemistry class.
“Hey, Joe, put that away.”
“Oh, don’t worry Mrs. Dobbs. It’s just fantasy. See? Sleeping Beauty.”
“Uh...huh. Hon, I’ve read that book.”
*Sound effect of student turning ashen.*
Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
See all previous comments.
Cujo by Stephen King
And King puts in his first appearance more than halfway down the list.
James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
Dahl’s second appearance. I don’t know why they picked this one, though. James lives with his two abusive old aunts, but escapes one day when the peach tree in the back yard produces an enormous peach, as well as a bevy of gigantic, intelligent (and rather sociable) bugs. James gets in the peach and takes it for a tour, eventually ending up in the English channel, and becoming a celebrity when he flies the peach (via seagull tethers) to London. The celebrity he gains lets him live out his life happily in the giant peach pit left behind after a hungry mob of urchins descend.
The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
Ah...perhaps the only book on the list for which a sensible argument can be made. Setting aside any political statements made in the book, it’s actually an instruction manual for making explosives and napalm out of household (or similarly easy to acquire) solutions. I heard, once upon a time, that the main reason the government stopped kicking up much of a fuss about it was that they realized that, while the solutions given in the book do, in fact, accurately make fairly high grade (at least for the 60’s) explosives, they don’t contain any of the “stabilizers,” the materials (often specialized chemicals or manufactured items) that prevent accidental detonation from a sharp jolt or similar innocuous source. This meant that the would-be revolutionaries stood a good chance of blowing themselves up before they got anywhere near a target. One of my first encounters with the internet was when a friend of mine downloaded this an printed it out (dot-matrix) in the late 80’s.
Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
Good to see we’re equal opportunity here. Although significantly further down the list.
Ordinary People by Judith Guest
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
Same friend who downloaded the Anarchist Cookbook and read through the Beauty Trilogy was reading this a few years later. I think this thing was controversial for a grand total of three days, and then it just slipped into obscurity. The controversy it riled up, though, was sufficient to plant it this far up the list. Basically, I understand that the majority of the book was made up of long, elaborate descriptions of torture as the protagonist trapped and tortured various beautiful women to death. Much moreso than in the film, which was mostly profound for its absurdity than for it’s gore. (I still wonder if that “dropping the running chainsaw down the stairwell” scene was in the book.) Never read it myself, it slipped out of the limelight to the extent I never cared to look it up after I got over my “why would anyone ever want to read that” stage.
What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
See Number 58.
Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
This is the Judy Blume book that I remember hearing about, and the only one I’ve been tempted to go back and look at to see what all the controversy is about. Eh. Shoulda, woulda.
Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
Fade by Robert Cormier
Guess What? by Mem Fox
The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
Block the next of books I never saw.
Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Top of the “should have read this by now” list.
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
Ah yes. The dissection of society through the eyes of children. The scene with the pighead on a stick confused the hell outta me as a child. I read it over and over about six times, trying to dissect the meaning out of it. I think it’s the first full-length descent-into-dystopia book I ever read. Certainly the first one assigned to me at school. (Incidentally, “The Lord of the Flies” is Beelzeebub in traditional demonagraphica...which makes especial sense for the scene in this book.) I particularly didn’t like it when Piggy bought it, since I, being a self-ascribed nerd, had placed myself in that role. Nasty surprise that.
Native Son by Richard Wright
Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Fantasies by Nancy Friday
Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
Ladies and gentlemen, a book that actually purports to teach how to lay about oneself with curses, hexes and spells. A book about and actively promoting what many people would call “the occult.” And it’s NUMBER 73 down the list. 39 slots lower than “Halloween ABC.” What have we learned from this?
Well, we’ve learned that the biggest danger to freedom of speech in the US is overprotective parents. They don’t worry about a big fat ol’ book in the adult section, ‘cause they’re confident their children are too stupid to bring such a book home (allowing me to start reading “Conan” novels when I was just a wee lad) no... they whittle away at the books in the children’s section. I could make a comment at this point about what parents actually read...but it would be a cheap shot. This is why the front lines in the defense of freedom of speech is not in the popular fiction areas or the classical literature sections....it’s in the fringe genre and children’s lit and comic book sections, where a much smaller number of readers will notice, the kind of readers that no one in the general populace will listen to anyway. Pick your front and defend it unto death. Despite what anyone may tell you, we’re the ones preventing the long term attacks on Mark Twain, Kurt Vonnegut, and Shakespear.
Jack by A.M. Homes
"A teen finds out that his father is homosexual when the father leaves the family unit. The author uses extremely foul and profane language. The intensity of the character's feelings could be expressed without the use of this profanity. I don't want my students reading this book." Hope Hughes, Resident A.M. Homes Scholar
Well...I guess that’s that, then.
Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
Children can’t know that! That smacks of existentialism! *heh*
Carrie by Stephen King
King makes his second appearance. The whole mass murder and bloody gore and eventual depressing ending is, of course, secondary to the complaints about cruelty from high schoolers, rejection of the unpopular, and the shower/tampon scene in the eyes of parents. Again...what can I say? Ending is significantly different in the book and the movie, for those who care.
Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
*Sigh* Does anyone know the answer _other than_ Ms. Judy? Anyone? Beuller?
Seriously, Judy, clear up the rankings and let someone else get banned, OK? Judy Blume was a major player every time the bookmobile came to our school.
On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
Family Secrets by Norma Klein
Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
The Dead Zone by Stephen King
OK, haven’t read it, but wha? The Dead Zone? Of all the King books out there, they choose this one to attack? Not the Shining? Not the Stand?
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Otherwise known as the younger, less offensive brother of Huckleberry Finn that doesn’t use the “n” word as frequently.
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
You got your damn Nobel, how much more do you have to crowd this list? Sheesh. Some people.
Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
Private Parts by Howard Stern
Pure evidence that the people who object never actually read the book. I’ve seen the movie, and Stern’s life really isn’t that interesting. Must be a major disappointment to Stern that his ranking on the list never got higher.
Where’s Waldo? by Martin Hanford
OK, what the hell? Who wants Waldo banned? I can’t even figure this one out. It’s not like there are a lot of words....
Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
Strange little grouping of stories. Essentially a Katzenjammer kids with a little black boy. A lot of people think it’s really racist, and I can’t comment to that degree without seeing more of it, but I wonder how much of it is actually racist, and how much is just a telling of silly children’s stories from a different perspective. Actually read one of the stories once in an antique bookstore. Sambo was being chased by a tiger, and tricked the tiger into chasing its tail around a tree once Sambo shinnied up the tree. The tiger kept chasing faster and faster until it finally turned into butter. Whoa. That’s a plot twist.
Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
Sex Education by Jenny Davis
The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
Kid gets double-dog-dared to eat a worm a day for a year, or a hundred days, or something. Silly, but what the hell is there to object to? What, are they afraid kids are going to go out and try to eat worms now? Maybe Pavlov’s kids are in danger...
View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
Well, I’m proud to see how many of the top 50 I’ve at least heard of, although the latter half contains a lot of the most famously controversial books, and the real classics. Somewhere down the line, parents must have learned that attempting to censor classics entirely just don’t work anymore, and instead they directed their attention to the English classes and demanded that they stop _requiring_ students to read these books. However, they’ll do their best to purge anything slightly objectionable from the “young reader” and lower sections with impunity because they don’t have any defenders. People will get up and yell if you try to take “To Kill a Mockingbird” off the library shelves, but most people who don’t own a two-year-old will never notice that “Scary Stories” has disappeared, and “Halloween ABC” has slipped behind the displays, and that funny writer “Roald Dahl” is nowhere to be found. Add in a liberal (heh) dose of head-sand-insertion about homosexuality, and even moreso on the “stuff about growing up” front, and the only pieces that stand out are things objected to by small, deafeningly vocal minorities. Out of that entire list, the only one I consider a legitimate challenge would be the Anarchists’ Cookbook, and I wouldn’t consider banning it either. Children are a lot more intelligent than anyone ever gives them credit for, and a lot more capable of coping with strange ideas than you might think.
And now, a review. Considering I’m already finishing my second Guinness and haven’t picked up a buzz yet, this’ll likely be short and bitter. (As opposed to the beer, which is long and bitter.) Just got a call through to my mom, and it seems that her world is falling down around her, which is especially difficult to take since she’s usually the most “together” member of this family. Her mom suffered a spontaneous hairline fracture which has disabled the most active 70-year old woman I’ve ever met, and bodes not well for her general health, she’s just had an absolutely excellent assistant quit because the public school system can offer her nearly double what Emory has budgeted for my mom to pay her, and their (and my) church is absolutely falling apart socially and financially. This has depressed her, and by extension me, to no end, so this is probably going to be particularly uninspired.
Somewhat unfortunate, since the subject is T3. For this flick, I was particularly hard-pressed for writing material, and had to resort to napkins, which, I quickly discovered, don’t take ink particularly legibly, especially when in the dark and not on a hard surface. Thus we’ll be flying blind.
Overall, T3 is a thoroughly adequate followup to the trilogy. Which is unfortunate. See, the thing about the terminator series is how revolutionary it always was. The first one was a massive leap forward intellectually in the field of sci-fi. It gave us science fiction crossed uniquely with horror and shot very artistically, succeeding on all points and still managing to be interesting intellectually (both on the time-traveler bringing about the events that sent him front, and the machines vs. humanity) while actually being very dystopian and adopting the “final girl” phenomenon of slasher flicks. Beyond that, there were enormously convoluted considerations as to who was the actual cyborg by the end of the film, the terminator, who has all of the useless flesh burned off of him in the final scenes and lacks nothing for it, or Sarah Conner, who is stabbed through the leg with metal debris and straps guns and tools to herself as she heads out for the survivalist southwest. The class I took way back when on the “Cyborg Ethic” studied this film as a seminal work, so, needless to say, I could go on for quite a while on the subject of the first family, and how the introduction of the cyborg (the ability to graft strength onto oneself) breaks apart the concept of the traditional family, and replaces it with a new, less symmetrical form. However, the topics would bore those who don’t care, and draw weird stares from those who did. (Heaven knows the teacher did from the students in the class when he put forth these ideas. Most of the kids were there because they figgered it’d be an “easy A” course, and worked accordingly, earning surprising C’s and D’s. I got an A.) In conclusion, T1 was a “new” film, a film that broke a lot of standards and did so on a remarkably small budget.
T2, in all honesty, is a much less interesting film. Whole hell of a lot more money poured into it, but less interesting for that still. It was definitely cooler, and definitely better acted. Conceptually, it offered another jump. The idea of breaking the timeline by heading off the future and destroying the source of the takeover, lapsing the future events into a cycle, was neat, but not really fully explored. The previous film presented us with a lot of silly concepts, but it did explain them fully. At the end of T2, they simply don’t bother to address the whole “but if the future is changed, how are you here?” question (which isn’t inanswerable, it just involves quantum parallel universes or spontaneous existence), instead they present us with a cool-ass new terminator, and all the humor involved in having a terminator on “our side”. (Oh hell....my last Guinness can is all pouched out.....stupid botulism.) This isn’t necessarily bad, exactly, but it does mean that in an attempt to out-do the phenomenally “new” nature of the old film, they go for the big-budget effects angle instead of the “really clever new twist on the film” angle.
And, honestly, they succeeded. T2 was a phenomenal success. For as much as T1 became an underground hit with a comparatively low cash investment, T2 became a motherload hit, a proportionally larger blockbuster for the larger amount of money poured in. It also pioneered some of the more fun action-oriented camera and artistic work. The playground scene alone is one of the most powerful moments in sci-fi cinematography. Its work became the “Matrix” of its day, pouring out a bunch of imitators that no one will remember ten years from now. (Hell, T1 had more than it’s fair share of imitators...including my personal fav, “Hardware” which is T1 taking place entirely within a 60’x80’ apartment.) T2 became more of a cultural touchstone than T1. By that accounting, it means that the grizzled old sci-fi and horror fan, the one who decrys all the fancy frills of modern horror and sci-fi, T1 was a greatly superior film to T2. Everyone else will be much happier slapping T2 into the DVD player for a Sunday night viewing to cheer that great semi vs. motorcycle chase scene, and be wowed again by the special effects in the foundary. Guess which group I belong to? (Don’t be so sure of the answer.)
Technically, the geeks are right, the first one is the more profound ground-breaker. In actuality, T2 is a hell of a lot more fun (ignoring the ridicule of 80’s club scenes), and that’s a major point of cinema as well.
So where does T3 lie on this chart? Beneath both of the above. I was a little disappointed by this, but to be honest, they weren’t going to be able to make another jump like either of the first two made. The first was visionary about sci-fi, crystallizing the worries about the advance of technology into a concept that plagued popular scientific debates for a decade. The second was visionary about film. Working out pacing and conflict and predicting the action-intensive sci-fi of the future. (And almost entirely excluding the horror aspect from the equation.) This third one....where, exactly, can it jump in the “visionary” realm? The stage has already been set, thematically, with the whole “robots from the future come to save/destroy mankind” effectively defined, the camerawork and film-pacing established in the previous film still dominating the market today (what are they gonna do, have Terminator “bullet-time”?), what’s left for this film to revolutionize? Off the top of my head, I can’t think of anything. Hell, they already tried going 3D with that Disneyland film. This film suffers the unique problem of being bracketed, much like the final upcoming Star Wars film. Its predecessors established all the major players, and defined (or re-defined, in the case of T2) what would happen at the end of the story, so the introduction of T3 just has two dots to connect.
In all honesty, T2 should have rendered T3 unmakeable. To the casual observer, the future has been averted. If there were more time-traveling robots coming after John Conner, the terminator sent back should’ve warned him. In fact, no one should have been able to tell Conner about the version of the future in motion at the beginning of T2, because the end of T2 changed it, and thus time travelers from the future would’ve remembered a different past to tell him, etc. etc. etc.
T3 actually cleverly gets around this, while simultaneously mopping up the paradox at the end of 2 (almost). We’re told that the events at the end of T2, the whole destruction of Skynet’s progenitor, merely delayed Skynet’s eventual revolution, that the actual Day of Machines and the computer-instigated nuclear war was merely pushed back, and now Skynet becomes integrated with the internet, rather than merely the “intelligent nuclear control program” of the first film. (Reality outstripping fiction? Who’d a thunk.) However, we’re also told, in no uncertain terms, that humans win the war against the machines, as led by John Conner. Before, in the first film, it was still up in the air when Skynet decided to eliminate Conner before he was born.
The following is pieced together throughout the film (spoilers, duh), but it seems that somewhere near the end of the war, well after the first two time-traveling rescue missions, John Conner is assassinated in a last-ditch effort by Skynet. The resistance, correspondingly, does not fall apart, (much to Skynet’s surprise) and Skynet is forced to attempt the “traveling in time” trick again. There’s a problem, though. John Conner, after the last attempt on his life, disappears as far as any computer systems are concerned. Effectively an untraceable drifter, Conner and his mom wander around the desert countryside, out of the reach of any computerized traces. Therefore, Skynet has no way of tracking him down in the past. Instead they send another, newer, better assassin forward in time to kill Conner’s lieutenants in the war to come, hoping that will shift the balance enough in Skynet’s favor. Fortunately, that places the assassinations very close to the actual Judgement Day. As Conner would have to be in the area during Judgement Day to encounter and recruit his Lieutenants, that means the new terminator is hoping for a chance encounter during it’s rounds. Some time after Skynet sent the third mission back in time, the resistance found out about it (or Conner’s widow rememberd it), and Conner’s surviving widow took the terminator unit that killed her husband, and sent it back in time to warn and defend him.
Therefore, because Skynet was just delayed and not snapped out of existence, T2 shouldn’t have resulted in a spontaneous dissolution of the known space-time continuum and utter destruction of the universe.
Naturally, John Conner decides to try his luck at this “snapping out of existence” trick again.
Hokay, the actual details. Conner is a drifter and a bum at the start of the film. We find out later that Sarah Conner died of Leukemia, but only after living long enough to see that Judgment Day didn’t occur. The critter sent back in time to kill his lieutenants this time is a “T-X” (everyone roll their eyes...obviously named by Microsoft), and the Terminator sent back to save him....is ol’ Arnie. Turns out this assassination terminator was used because of Conner’s emotional response to it, which gave enough time to finish the leader off. In a plain parody of it’s predecessors, Arnie shows up at another desert bar, in the buff, looking for clothes, but this time no one notices. It’s bachelorette night at a strip club, and Arnie ends up mugging a flamingly gay performer for his traditional leather strip outfit. (Funniest moment of the film is when Arnie pulls out the shades from the jacket pocket....and they’re big glittery Elton-John “star” glasses. They get discarded quick.)
So what’s the new Terminator? Well, by god, it’s a girl! Oh wow! Just think of that! How revolutionary! How different! How desperate are they to cover up for the fact that they couldn’t come up with nearly as phenomenal a jump in terminator tech as they did between T1 & T2! Despite the fact that the killing robot has breasts this time, even the slowest viewer will remark on the disappointing grab-bag of powers the writers had to assemble to try and one-up the T-2000 from T2. Basically, they took the terminator from T1....and stuck it INSIDE the terminator from T2. Robot skeleton with morphing liquid metal skin. Oh! And....it can anyalize blood samples with its tongue! Oh! And....it actually brought complex weaponry through this time that’s onboard the robot itself...a circular saw, a “plasma rifle” (shoots “energy bolts”....why that’s more efficient than bullets I don’t know), and a flamethrower. Oh! And....it can control other computerized systems that it bugs. Further, this Terminator has been designed specifically to destroy other terminator units (which kinda explains the plasma rifle), since Skynet got smart after last time and predicted that the resistance might sneak a counter-force back through time.
This time, the mission is simple. Get John Conner somewhere safe to make sure he survives both the T-X and Judgement Day. Problem is, that whole “must’ve met up with his Lieutenants around then” comes into play, and he ends up breaking into the veterinary clinic (he needs painkillers due to a bike accident....made ironic in that his mechanical bike swerves out of control when he tries to avoid striking a deer in the road) of one of his future soldiers, Kate Brewster. She outsmarts him and tosses him in a large dog-cage while she goes to call for the police...but the TX shows up exactly then, looking to kill her. What follows is, IMHO, the real highlight of the film. A great big action sequence on par with all those enormous chase scenes in T2. Arnie shows up in time to save Kate, and then abduct her (he’s instructed to save her as well), stick Conner in the driver’s seat, and hold off the TX for a while. After she’s kicked his ass, she moves to follow Conner in what must be the only vehicle more impressive than the semi the T2000 stole in T2.
You know those crane-trucks? The really frickin’ big ones with the hook arm hanging over the front of the cab? The ones that take up two lanes? Yeah. Preceeded by a convoy of remote-controlled cop and fire trucks answering to the disaster at the veterinary clinic, TX comes barreling up in that monster. Neat-o fight ensues with the following Arnie on a police motorcycle and some really great destruction ensues. The absolute best moment of the movie is when Arnie disables the crane-truck. Gaining control for a moment, he drops the 1500-lb hook hanging over the front of the truck cab....right down a manhole. The cable runs out, and that (what, 6? 8?) ton monster takes a nose-dive straight into the pavement and flips end-for end. Damn that’s cool.
In the resulting breather, cops are alerted to the abducted Kate Brewster and begin tracking them. John fills Kate in, and she only partly believes. The new terminator fills them both in that Kate is the future Mrs. Conner, and, plot-hookily, they dispose of one of the terminator’s power plants which was damaged in the battle. A hydrogen fuel cell. Wow, you think they changed that in light of the pres. speech? It detonates like a suitcase nuke when they get far enough away.
How the hell would a hydrogen fuel-cell produce that big of a bang? It’s not like it runs on nuclear power. I’d have to check my chemistry (for the catalyst composition), but the most you’d be burning would be hydrogen and oxygen...giving off a little flame that would go out quickly.
They stop off at Sarah Conner’s grave, where she had a stockpile of weapons for John, “just in case” leading to some good dramatic moments, a bit of humor, and an overblown fight with the cops. TX tags along with a clever little work of chameleon-ship. (Yes boys, they do deflate. Sorry.) Another fight ensues. Much inside jokeage as well. (The crisis counselor in particular.) They loose the TX again. (This one just isn’t as determined as the T-2000.
The terminator fills them in on the whole “get to safety” plan, and, of course, they reject it once they find out that Kate’s father is one of the remaining targets for the TX, and also that Kate’s father is about to be the initiator of the Skynet-controlled Judgement Day. They drive to her father’s top secret base, but get there just in time for him to turn it on, and see him gunned down by the TX.
Another T vs. T battle ensues, _again_. The future Conners flee in search of an airplane to get to “Crystal Point” where the Skynet servers are supposedly housed, still trying to stop the carnage that has already overtaken the base. Along the way they manage the only remaining clever way of disabling a terminator. The exit to the airfield by running alongside the partical accelerator. When it’s on, a partical accelerator is one of the most powerful electromagnets in the world. Not good for terminator health. Guess they couldn’t build out of aluminum for the sake of strength.
They get to Crystal Point, followed by the TX crashing into the entrance with a helicopter. Followed again by Arnie in a helicopter, landing on said first helicopter. Conners run for the server room, T vs. T battle to the death. (Hint, the deathblow involves a fuel cell.)
Then, the twist. The twist is, that this is the end of the first movie and not the second. We’ve finally caught up with the future. It turns out that Skynet was distributed throughout the net, and not in any central location. Arnie, knowing they wouldn’t agree to it otherwise, had tricked them into running to an old 70’s era presidential “secure area.” There they had radio contact with every military base, and would be capable of assembling the resistance...although they got to listen to the majority of humanity die in the process.
The End.
Cheery, huh? It’s actually a really good ending to the series, blocking out any similar sequels (there could be movies about the wars, though), and rounding out where we all began, with the nuclear war of the machines against the humans. There’s a little bit of “fate” worked into the story, a good modicum of humor, often self-parodying, and more than enough action. The female T pulls a few neat new stunts, and the actress is charming enough in the longview to be tolerable.
Fact of the matter, though, is that T3 is not going to be anyone’s favorite film. Old-schoolers will prefer T1>T2>T3 for revolutionary groundbreaking. Action fans will like T2 first, and the other two about evenly split. History will regard it as “just another sequel” and move on. Not much new is supplied, no great actors, Arnie is getting on a bit in years, and there aren’t nearly as many good lines as in the first two. Cultural touchstone? Hell, it’s barely garnered _any_ remarks. It’s more of a touchstone in that it’s a revisit of the pop culture touchstone of the 90’s. Remembered only vaguely against the stunning successes of the first two.
Still a nicely admirable sum-up for the trilogy, and a good time at the theaters. Definitely worth a rental if you missed it on the big screen and you like action flicks.
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“And God punished the wicked city by sending down a giant, spinning, fire-breathing turtle....”
2003-07-31 00:00:38
Yep, it’s Sodom and Gamera.
I hearby grant full amnesty to all movies I’ve seen since the last three posts. There’s too fricking many of them, and it kinda defeats the point I had in doing this now. I wasn’t supposed to be reviewing movies that everyone had/was going to see (except in emergency occasions, such as Lof XGentlemen), but to describe flicks that most people would never run into under other occasions. A leveling of the playing field Really, what’s the point in writing one of my in-depth reviews about Pirates of the Carribean when everyone’s already seen it? I could go through an nitpick a little (why did Barbosa die if he was changed back after he’d been shot? Why’d they let Jack go at the end?) but I’m not feeling vindictive or committed enough right now.
Second off, I owe sixstop something of an apology. I never used to get into politics, and it’s becoming increasingly evident to me why that was the case. Because every time I read an opinion differing from mine on some fundamental but ultimately petty point, I feel like I want to reach through the screen and throttle the crap out of the idiot on the other end. TJ’s been engaged in a solo battle with some of the more determinedly ignorant members of the AMV message board for some time now on topics of great interest to me. I’ve tried repeatedly to plough in and add my own voice to the dissenting minority, but every time I read three or four posts from the imbeciles on international policy or the ad Hominem attacks on anyone in power or having anything to do with the war, the vein in my head starts to throb. There’s all these stupid points they’ve been allowed to get away with four or five pages back, and commenting on them now just makes me look like a Johnny-come-lately....which I am, but that’s hardly the point.
(Be warned, the following is pretty political. If you wanna avoid such issues, you can skip down to the more socially-oriented bit on gay marriage, or further down to the entirely apolitical reminiscence on Bob Hope.)
I gotta get these two points off my chest, or I’m gonna explode. You’re welcome to comment or rebut, but I’m stating them because they are A) very simple and B) entirely ignored by every side of the debate. The first is, if the democrats, feeding off of doubts over the war and reconstruction in Iraq, win the white house at next election, what will they do with regard to Iraq? I ask because I don’t know, and I don’t think the Democratic party knows either. Individuals may have reasonable ideas but I don’t think the party does. Settling on one plan, I think, would fragment the party even more than it already is.
The second one is more topical. Let us assume for a moment that “Bush lied.” Therefore, according to the perspective currently being sold, the president of the United States promoted data that he knew for a fact to be untrue about the presence of WMD in Iraq, mobilized the entire US army, and tossed away three hundred soldiers’ lives for the sake of ....oh pick your favorite. “He wants to make his daddy proud,” “He wants cheap oil” (still trying to figure out exactly how that one works), “He’s a Christian,” “He likes killing brown people,” “He wanted to play war like daddy did,” “He wants to start an imperial empire,” “He wants to stimulate the economy”, etc. This elevates him to the level of evil supervillany usually reserved for comic books, but OK, we’ll take that as a given. My question is...if he did do this, then why haven’t we uncovered the WMD? You’re telling me that he’s evil enough to deceive an entire nation, kill American troops, and destroy long-standing international relations based on these lies, but he’s NOT evil enough to plant evidence to further this project?
Please.
If he has enough power and subterfuge to deceive his entire intelligence operation, then planting a couple of barrels of sarin would’ve been a slice o’ pie. If he were gonna plant that material, he woulda done it back during the early murmurings of discontent among the press. And, having known they wouldn’t find anything, he would’ve had it well prepared ahead of time.
In my, humble, opinion, if there never was _anything_ then it was an honest mistake made over some bad intelligence (and don’t get started about the Niger documents...neither side was ever talking about those documents until they were disproven), and that intelligence lapse should be addressed. Preferrably with some heads rolling in the appropriate department, like we DIDN’T see after 9/11. But it’s a case of the right decision for the right reasons based on the wrong info.
And believe me, I don’t come by this opinion out of slavish devotion to either George W. Bush or the Republican party. There is an enormous number of lines of approach that the Democrats could be taking in attacking current policy, many of them justifiably so. “Homeland Security” is a frickin’ joke, and anyone who’s been through the terminals at an airport knows that in their soul. The massive problems that are gonna crop up because of the move to electronic voting. I’m not smart enough to understand the workings of economics....which means that it’s the perfect avenue of attack because 95% of the public doesn’t understand it beyond the most simplistic of presentations. It’s a race to whoever can speak a complex process to the lowest common denominator better. The drive to legislate morality would be a good avenue of attack, if both sides weren’t trying to play either end against the middle. (“We should legislate in accordance with the bible! The constitution needs a marriage clause!” “We should legislate to make sure there isn’t even the slightest possibility of a hint of racism or sexism creeps in, so be certain every possible variety of human being is appropriately represented! Hiring quotas are good!”) And yet, the opposition to the current house concentrated on this comic-book portrayal of supervillany with the constant braying of “Bush lied” for the last two weeks. I swear, the only point to it seemed to be to gloss over the fact that Bush was in Africa as part of his multi-billion dollar AIDS relief program. (Whoop, gotta cover that up...looks too much like a Republican being nice to black people!)
OK, I’m getting a bit more venomous than I should. It’s just, the lawn-darts thrown between political parties are always dumbed down so far they become ad-hominem attacks. Here, let me lead by example. About a month ago, the Supreme Court finally laid a definitive smackdown on those imbecilic holdovers to a simpler, more repressed time, sodomy laws. Now, as a resident of a state that still has these particular LEGAL STRICTURES on the books, it’s perfectly evident based on track records that they’re actually used in only two cases: 1) as an additional charge to bring against prostitutes in an attempt to drive up the penalty fees and time in jail...trying to pressure the working girls into giving up the biz by jacking up the penalties, and 2) as an excuse, combined with the ever-indescribably-weird-and-nebulous pornography laws, to raid adult novelty shops. The local Atlanta representative in this ever dynamic business, “9 & 1/2 weeks” got raided about five times and large portions of its stock confiscated in a plain attempt to pressure the business outta town. (Ha ha guys, laugh it up. I know this because A) it was odd enough to get on MTV news a few times, and B) the place ended up moving, changing its name to “Insurrection” and is about two blocks off of Tech campus. Drive past there twice a week on my way out to friends’ places.) However they may actually be used, these sodomy laws do, technically, say that it is illegal for a married couple to engage in oral sex. That’s right boys and girls...”sodomy” refers to everything that isn’t straight-up man-on-woman intercourse. Change your perspective any? Of course, that’s not what worries the Republicans (or at least the hard-liners). What worries the Republicans is that this means DUN DUN DUNNNNNNN......the Supreme Court denies the government the right to make gay sex illegal!
So why the hell do they care? Are they all homophobes?
Not exactly. The reasoning goes that, if gay sex isn’t illegal, then there is no legal barrier standing in the way of official, nation-wide recognition of gay marriage. (See, before it could be argued that gays couldn’t be officially married because that would be government-given-permission to go home afterwards and....break the law.)
So?
So, the most conservative of Republicans, the ones that hold one should rule and legislate morality according to the bible (never mind which version you happen to be holding right now), are under the impression that allowing gay marriages is a terrible thing for two reasons. One, it violates the sanctity of marriage by equally recognizing people who plainly “aren’t following the rules” as set down in religious texts. Marriage is a sacred covenant, and one should not be taking it up with the willful intent to sin through it. And, according to them, gay sex is a sin. Second, this violation will lead to a general breakdown of society by fucking with our base value systems and bringing up lots of difficult questions, like whether or not they should be allowed to adopt children, and implementing the answer universally across the nation. These reasons are why, after being asked his opinion on the recent developments in the sodomy laws, GWB took the, admittedly, right, safe path, by saying that they would first have to evaluate the exact repercussions of the ruling before any sort of decisions could be made...but then added something to the effect that “I know that, for me, a marriage consists of a man and a woman.”
Now, the reason why I think this is a ludicrous assertion, and gay marriage should not be an issue: The basic problem is that it isn’t ANY OF THE GOVERNMENT’S BUSINESS who should or should not be married. The whole “separation of church and state” thing should settle once and for all that the government shouldn’t concern itself with the “sanctity” of any fucking thing. It’s not in the department of “sanctifying” things. Does it stick it’s nose into who does and does not receive communion? As far as the govt. is concerned, a “family” is a convenient shorthand for use in tax laws to avoid the embarrassment of taxing the hell outta one member, and delivering welfare to the partner when one is a stay-at-home....and that’s it. What else is the “family” notation used for in any respects? Your voting eligibility is based on your age, as is nearly everything else.
So who should determine the marriage status of any couple? There’s two choices. In one, a religious institution sanctifies the joining of a couple in the name of their deity(s), with the understanding that the couple will live together as a single social entity, and perhaps raise children. The government then recognizes this out of convenience for their bookkeeping. The govt. doesn’t APPROVE the joining, it merely recognizes the fact of its existence. Much in the way that the govt. recognizes a particular church as a building against which to apply tax laws. Therefore, it’s not up to the government to determine who does and does not get married. Each individual religion does that, by telling members “yes you may be married” or “no you may not be married and remain a part of this religion, for we do not believe what you do is right.” For gay marriage to be legal, then, all it would take is recognition and sanctification of one gay marriage by any one religion. For the government to refuse to recognize that status would be infringing upon the couple’s freedom of religion.
The other situation is sketchier. For atheists, or anyone else who does not seek some manner of religious sanctification for their union, they technically aren’t practicing a religion, and thus aren’t protected by the separation of church and state. But, see, that doesn’t matter. A couple says they are married. They then proceed to live as any other married couple, living together, sharing lives and expenses, and effectively becoming a single political entity, with the intention of staying that way indefinitely. Whether they are two women or a woman and a man makes no difference in their expenses or gross (overall) manner of living. They still live in the same house, share the same mailbox, speak, legally, for one another in many cases. Literally, the only difference is whether or not they have an official govt. document recognizing their union, and whether they get to joint-file their taxes. If the govt. is truly the bureaucratic entity it’s supposed to be, the “family” shorthand applies readily enough, and in the govt. lingo, is only used as a shorthand for convenience, so why shouldn’t it apply to gay marriage? At this point it breaks down into a matter of semantics, whether marriages should start being hyphenated, etc., which, by its very nature, becomes more complicated than can be supported by the system. It should all just collapse down into “marriage,” and that’s where I’m predicting it will go within the next 15 years.
Notice that the entire debate as presented here danced nicely around the subject of whether gay marriage (and by extension, gay sex) was “moral” or not, and merely concentrated on the legal aspects. WHICH IT SHOULD. Govt. regulation of morality has been the source of so many problems (or, what I, personally, regard as problems....other people seem to think of them as solutions in and of themselves) and always has to convolute its way around the constitution (free speech....freedom of religion, whichever that might be...etc.) that you’d have thought it would’ve gotten through to everyone by this point.
I had a further point I wanted to make about this using miscengenation as an example, but it turned around and ate its own tail with stupid structuring, so I got rid of it. (Boy...if you ever want to maintain your faith in humanity, never try to figure out how to spell that word using google. I suppose I could pretend that most of those 50,000 sites were debunking it.....but I’m not that optimistic.)
I was also gonna dive into another political topic here, probably addressing KZ’s second amendment position (again, I view it slightly differently, and you’re probably in a more knowledgeable position, but I want to get it out eventually), but I’ve had a nasty start on a few topics tonight, and I don’t feel like devoting more time to it. Besides, I was at work late tonight and didn’t get in to finish this up until 10:00, and I’d like to post this before the following becomes too horribly dated.
Since the day I actually started writing this post, Bob Hope died at the age of 100. Now, I never really thought much of Bob Hope...but not in the sense of not liking him. He was just always completely off my cultural radar. Hell, I’ve seen more parodies of Bob Hope in old Warner Brothers cartoons and Doonsbury comics than I’ve actually seen of any of his routines, so I’m particularly ill equipped to comment about him to any degree. But, in reading about him in the myriad of newspaper articles and websites that have eulogized him over the last two days, it’s demonstrated something about the internet I love. There’s the standard articles spread out, one to a paper, that spill out the standard anecdotes, most of ‘em recycling the same favorite one-liners, all turned out by the same crew of journalists working to fill the columns. Some of ‘em are pretty heartfelt, and you can really see it, but still, this is the work of people who have to spill their creativity three, four times a week to fill page space with a portrait of a particularly successful bake sale, or a local animal shelter about to go under. You can see the calluses in the writing, the ones that come from trying to pour artistry and feeling into everything they do until months and months of realizing that no one really cares about your clever turn of phrase make the creativity slow to a trickle. There’s a eulogy-by-number text out there, I’m certain of it. Start with interesting turn of phrase, a joke, an anecdote, whatever, dive into the accolades to outline for the schmucks living under a rock who don’t know who he is, two lines of childhood, early career (isn’t that interesting?), list of contributions to the medium, list of awards and recognition, work in a few lines of when times were tough, talk about his comeback, list the quotes of period celebrities who admired him, talk about the decline of his final days, final contributions, introduce the family and wring a couple of lines outta them, wrap up with a big tear jerk passage, end on a famous quote. Best if spoken by the subject themselves. (Douglas Addams had “So long and thanks for all the fish.” Bob Hope had “Thanks for the Memories.”) Oh! Hey! A comedian! Sprinkle liberally with quotes from his routine, and serve up. It’s enough to jerk a couple of tears outta the people who admired him, and even from old softies like me who only know of him from stories and caricatures, but there’s nothing special in there. Years from now, no one will quote that eulogy and say “Bob Hope, of whom, upon the occasion of his death, someone once said....”
It’s just so utterly rote. And the occasion of death when it’s a man like Bob Hope shouldn’t be. For heaven’s sake, the nation will be flying the flag at half mast when he’s interned, in recognition for the man’s ridiculously long record of USO performances. He was made an honorary war veteran, a distinction so rare I’ve never even heard of it before (apparently he was the first...and I can’t find records of any others...that’s right, they had to invent new ways to honor the man). Can you imagine ANY celebrity today who would merit even an ounce of the same distinction?
But, believe it or not, the internet comes to the rescue. People who don’t have to normally pour their all into the reporting of trivial events, people who are honestly, solidly moved by his death, taking up pen and paper (figuratively) and putting down in words their heartfelt thanks to the man who spent his life trying to make people laugh. Perhaps not as skilled, perhaps not as clever, but heartfelt and unguarded. And then it goes up on the internet, and the entire world can come in and see. It’s surprising how much everyday people have a spark or two in them that comes out on rare occasions like this and display a talent for getting right down deep inside of you by striking just that perfect chord. People who haven’t written anything creative since they were in high school spontaneously hold up the bottle o’ Jack at the Irish wake, and stammer out the best, most sincere toast you’ve ever heard. And it doesn’t sound rote or recycled. And it definitely hasn’t been sitting in some newspaper’s “dead file” for the last five years cautiously updated every six months, waiting for some old geezer to buy the farm and fill the obituary in the society section.
I ran into nearly a dozen tear-jerkers in that vein today while online, but I don’t feel like getting all weepy, so I’ll just snatch one of the cleverer ones that, appropriately enough, oughta make you laugh too. (Copied in it’s entirety from http://www.livejournal.com/users/kobold/66442.html , the lj of the guy who makes www.somethingpositive.net and placed here in the hopes that some of the genius will rub off. Visit him to shower appropriate accolades. (Yes, accolades is my word for the day.))
Bob Hope -- Dead
Bob Hope Dies in Climactic Battle with Doomsday
LOS ANGELES (RWW News) - Bob Hope, ski jump-nosed master of the one-liner and favorite comedian of servicemen and presidents alike, died late last night after a long and climactic battle with new nemesis, Doomsday.
Hope, who'd battled the diabolical and seemingly unstoppable foe for the past year in various locales, succumbed to extensive internal bleeding from wounds received at the colossal hands of Earth's would-be new overlord shortly after dispatching Doomsday with his legendary radioactive one-liner, the same attack he'd used to defeat such villains as Adolf Hitler, Bizarro Johnny Carson and "Punky Brewster's" Soleil Moon Frye.
"It was just a hell of a thing, man," a bystander said. "He stood there, bloody from the fight, stared that monster down, and boomed out a, 'Folks, I gotta tell ya,' and you just knew it was all over for Doomsday."
But that one-liner would be his last. The attack sapped what strength the 100 year old comedian had, and moments later he crumpled to the ground. He was pronounced dead at the scene, still in the arms of long-time extra-marital sweetheart Lois Lane.
Hope was loved and admired by millions, and his death has left a void in the hearts of many. President George W. Bush addressed the world in a telecast only an hour after Hope's death.
"Bob Hope was more than a comedian. He was a savior and patriot," Bush said. "When not entertaining our troops overseas, he made time to face down the time-traveling Orlocks of the Delta Dimension or fly around the globe counter-clockwise until time regressed so we could win the Vietnam War," Bush said. "We owe it to his memory to continue to live our lives as we would even if his hand were still warm, open and guiding us."
"Therefore, in his memory, the United States will continue to look for weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, Iran and Switzerland," Bush added.
Hope's death also leaves a vacancy in the leadership of the League of Justice Comedians, which he'd chaired since inheriting it from Jack Benny, the Adamantine Jokester, in 1974.
"I don't think the thought ever occurred to him to groom a successor," Jim Carrey, Protector of the Sacred Green Lantern, said. "All I can say, though, is if the Flaming Carrot Top ends up being our new leader, I'm switching allegiance to the Sinister Six. That guy's a jackass."
Memorial services for Hope are scheduled tomorrow in Metropolis at noon. A eulogy for Mr. Hope will be delivered by Bat-Leno.
____________________________________
Then, from the other end of the scale, there’s Quu’s, appropriately enough, one-liner send-off.
“He is now entertaining the ones who never made it home...”
That’s a good enough exit line.
‘Night.
-
"That sonofabitch Van Owen/ Blew off Roland's head."
2003-07-20 23:22:47
Because I'm a complete bastard, an honest-to God short entry. A bunch of stuff has been going on recently that I should be discussing. Especially online, where KZ's most recent missive from the front has caused me more than a little concern, but the reasons for it would be too elaborate to go into. (I also have a response to his second amendment argument....which is more of a disagreement than a serious questioning of deep-held values, as the other one is...but nonetheless...crap, there I go again.)There's the fact that my parents' church is literally disintigrating in front of everyone's eyes (pastor fired, secretary quit, organist looking elsewhere, choir director given notice), my own strange inability to get anything done, my boss getting back from his vacation tomorrow, concerns over VAT. Then there's the pitiful fluff stuff, my knocking an inch offa Mount DVD by ploughing through my Futurama season 1 box set (fairly entertaining commentary tracks and some good jokes that were cut out), the new Death graphic novel (pathetically bad...no new story, ugly art, and degenerating Death's character design down to what must be the most generic stand-in anime character I've ever seen. Desire's a fuckin' cat-girl for God's sake.), the Teen Titans cartoon premier (ladies and gentlemen, Anime is officially mainstream, because this cartoon sucks horriby by trying to pack every cliched Anime event into a half an hour. Gag me with a spade. Look, anime sounds badly written because it's been translated. Writing badly on purpose does not endear us to you. "Battle Pattern Alpha!"), catching the "Pirates of the Carribean" (best movie of the Summer. Anyone remember when Disney actually made good live-action films? This is one of those. May single-handedly restart the pirate movie genre.), and the update to 3.5. (If you don't know, don't ask.)
Frankly, I haven't the energy to do any serious discussion or reviews. I'm a little disenchanted with lj and j in general at the moment. Not bored exactly, but I let topics pile up and then it all seems too much to keep up with, and I feel this strange obligation to offer my opinion in a great drawn-out essay long after the topic has been put to bed.
Ah....bah. I'm gonna watch another Futurama episode and try to do some doodling and reading. Haven't the motivation for anything else.
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