Here's the thing. There is a new movie hopscotching to theaters on July 24th. A movie about an apathetic child killer. Yep, it's that time of year again. (Omen - June 6th, 2006, Joshua - July 6, 2007...although there is also an obsession with September: the Bad Seed (1956), the Good Son (1993), the Orphanage (2007)...but I digress) This Hollywood trope, once fresh and invigoratingly shocking, has debilitated into cliche-ridden, addled scripts with more shamelessly repetitive and pointless twists than the local high school sock hop. And I haven't considered the remakes yet! These evil baby machines are money makers, nevertheless, so they will prevail. My diatribe notwithstanding, I personally enjoy goreless bad kid movies, provided they offer a creative and thematically satisfying trick and resolution. Or a couple "hide and seek in a darkened, creepy house" and 'say, why is the butcher knife missing?' scenes - I'm not that difficult to please.
The current monster kid of the year, however, is receiving not just early buzz, but an altogether unexpected audience reaction. Orphan might receive more publicity for its offensive content than anything else. You heard correctly. In the generation of torture porn, 3-D decapitations of teenagers, and entire films that serve as ninety minute tributes to snuff, someone has criticized a movie for "villainizing" parentless children. How cruel can a scary movie get? Some people prefer their bloody murderers to have a soccer mom and PTA dad, thank you very much. I guess that way, we can hold someone with a drivers license responsible for the mayhem caused. Horror movies have really gone too darn far these days.
All joking aside, this is a serious accusation. Originating with nonprofits such as the Worldwide Orphans Foundation, the complaints have impacted Congress. (http://www.hollyscoop.com/movies/orphan/us-politicians-protest-orphan-movie_1610.aspx)
Dr. Jane Aronson, CEO of the former group, says that Orphan "continues to perpetuate gross misinformation about adoption” as “the movie trailer has already caused great distress on adopted children who have seen the trailer in their neighborhood theaters and the comfort of their homes.”
Seriously, people? Who actually feared that twisted little girl because she was an orphan? If it weren't for that pesky title, who would have noticed? Beyond that, who would use a cliched horror flick to sway their opinion on a whole social group of people?! People like that are bigoted fools who probably wouldn't have adopted anyway! Are there sane people out there who would assume, after watching the trailer of course, that even .01% of orphaned children are murderous fiends? I guess I should also revile ice cream men, dentists, stepparents, parents of any kind for that matter, the guy who mows our lawns, fishermen, high school teachers, college professors, and EVERY CHILD IN EXISTENCE, whether unborn or undeniably adorable. These are only a small portion of people used as fodder for stupid horror movies.
Am I honestly defending horror movies? Not as much as I'm admonishing Congress for overreacting and encouraging paranoia in orphans everywhere. Adoption is a beautiful experience, and no movie is going to adversely affect the decision of anyone truly devoted to giving a child a loving home. And if someone is that capricious, should they be raising kids at all? By drawing attention to this movie, you are bestowing more power on it than it warrants. Let's treat it like any other crude, anti-family movie: watch it if you want to, ignore it if you don't. It's just a fanciful, possibly supernatural thriller, people, not a case study.
In the meantime, there are plenty of other horror movies that need to become societal pariahs for just being distatefully gross - the Saw series anyone? Now that's offensive. Oh, and anything by Rob Zombie. If William Shatner wants to protest a movie, let it be the one that grossly mismarkets his face. Halloween caused me great distress as a kid. I can never hear the Mr. Sandman tune again, and the original Captain Kirk still makes me uneasy.
Horror movies are kind of creepy.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Rated R for “Rose-Tinted”: An editorial on the United States’ arbitrary motion picture rating system
I am not one to fall prey to conspiracy theories surrounding secret organizations. I remain skeptical, for example, of the thought that Freemasons are Satan-worshipping occultists seeking world domination, their disturbing insignia and cryptic nature notwithstanding. I believe, therefore, that the Motion Picture Association of America ratings board originated with lofty idealism and fresh-faced ambitions. For years before its creation, there had been no standard rating system for judging the appropriateness of movies for family viewing. Then in rode the white knights of cinema, their swords of caution unsheathed. The mystical letter G was bestowed upon harmless fare, while more pervasive content was given R. Over the years, the intermediate ratings PG and PG-13 were added and the panel of judges became more enigmatic than ever. Only one person, Joan Graves, has been acknowledged as a member of this sacred board, which can literally speak life or death over a movie (Boole, Sonja (2008, July/August). Discretion Adviser. Stanford Magazine. Retrieved April 23, 2009, from http://www.stanfordalumni.org/news/magazine/2008/julaug/show/graves.html).
As for the nine essentially anonymous members, the MPAA insists that they “serve for periods of varying length” and “have a shared parenthood experience.” The MPAA also boldly proclaims that there is not a “jot of evidence” that the board has ever been influenced in decision-making by third parties. (Motion Picture Association of America. (2009). Who rates the movies and how does it work? Retrieved April 23, 2009, from http://www.mpaa.org/Ratings_HowRated.asp) They neglect to inform the public that none of these board members currently have children under eighteen. Furthermore, how can anyone validly question the practices of a secret organization with unknown members? Sometimes though, the ratings themselves can be incriminatory. In my opinion, the system is not very standardized, nor is it a proper judge of parental values.
Perhaps the strongest example of this is the film Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Originally this film received an emphatic NC-17 rating due to extremely graphic sexual content, a standard reaction to the filmmaker Kevin Smith’s films. One of the main stars was even an actual porn star. In an equally standard move, Smith appealed the rating and won. My suspicions of the board’s fallibility were aroused when I discovered that Smith had not edited the film in any way before the appeal (Cox, Dan (2008, August). With Porn Star in Tow…And Wins. Retrieved April 23, 2009, from http://www.mediabistro.com/fishbowlLA/darwin_was_right/kevin_smith_challenges_mpaa_ratings_system_with_porn_star_in_towand_wins_91025.asp). Somehow, an NC-17 movie had been repackaged into one marketable to young teenagers. Apparently the members of the appeals board do not share the criteria as the original board. Lesson learned: Always appeal. Many crude sex comedies, Scary Movie 4 as a glaring example, have even sweet-talked the panel into PG-13 territory.
On the other end of the spectrum are films that have undeservedly been laden with critical ratings. The Village barely escaped R, because of a sound effect for the knife plunging into a main character’s chest. The board told M. Night Shyamalan, the director, he could keep the violent scene, just ditch the sound. Voila, PG-13. Slumdog Millionaire, on the other hand, was relegated to the realm of R, despite mostly implied violence and minimal sexual content.
I conclude that the rating system is arbitrary enough to disregard. Many parental guidance review sites exist to describe actual content, rather than categorize it. Ultimately, however, the best judges of the suitability of a movie are the parents themselves. Of course, the next question is why we need a standard rating system at all. The only way for it to stay relevant is for it to stop contradicting itself. For all those MPAA panel fan boys who will criticize me for such impractical expectations, do not lose hope in your favorite unknown leaders. They can always appeal.
As for the nine essentially anonymous members, the MPAA insists that they “serve for periods of varying length” and “have a shared parenthood experience.” The MPAA also boldly proclaims that there is not a “jot of evidence” that the board has ever been influenced in decision-making by third parties. (Motion Picture Association of America. (2009). Who rates the movies and how does it work? Retrieved April 23, 2009, from http://www.mpaa.org/Ratings_HowRated.asp) They neglect to inform the public that none of these board members currently have children under eighteen. Furthermore, how can anyone validly question the practices of a secret organization with unknown members? Sometimes though, the ratings themselves can be incriminatory. In my opinion, the system is not very standardized, nor is it a proper judge of parental values.
Perhaps the strongest example of this is the film Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Originally this film received an emphatic NC-17 rating due to extremely graphic sexual content, a standard reaction to the filmmaker Kevin Smith’s films. One of the main stars was even an actual porn star. In an equally standard move, Smith appealed the rating and won. My suspicions of the board’s fallibility were aroused when I discovered that Smith had not edited the film in any way before the appeal (Cox, Dan (2008, August). With Porn Star in Tow…And Wins. Retrieved April 23, 2009, from http://www.mediabistro.com/fishbowlLA/darwin_was_right/kevin_smith_challenges_mpaa_ratings_system_with_porn_star_in_towand_wins_91025.asp). Somehow, an NC-17 movie had been repackaged into one marketable to young teenagers. Apparently the members of the appeals board do not share the criteria as the original board. Lesson learned: Always appeal. Many crude sex comedies, Scary Movie 4 as a glaring example, have even sweet-talked the panel into PG-13 territory.
On the other end of the spectrum are films that have undeservedly been laden with critical ratings. The Village barely escaped R, because of a sound effect for the knife plunging into a main character’s chest. The board told M. Night Shyamalan, the director, he could keep the violent scene, just ditch the sound. Voila, PG-13. Slumdog Millionaire, on the other hand, was relegated to the realm of R, despite mostly implied violence and minimal sexual content.
I conclude that the rating system is arbitrary enough to disregard. Many parental guidance review sites exist to describe actual content, rather than categorize it. Ultimately, however, the best judges of the suitability of a movie are the parents themselves. Of course, the next question is why we need a standard rating system at all. The only way for it to stay relevant is for it to stop contradicting itself. For all those MPAA panel fan boys who will criticize me for such impractical expectations, do not lose hope in your favorite unknown leaders. They can always appeal.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Walking in the shadow of greatness
For my shadowing project, I chose to explore neuroscience research. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to meet with three professionals in the field at once: Dr. Gregory Cole, Dr. Ju-Ahng Lee, and Dr. Joong-Youn Shim. At a round table meeting, they offered their experiences and background information on neuroscience. Later, I received an overview of neuroscience from Dr. Lee and one-on-one mentoring from Dr. Shim.
One of the first facts I learned about neuroscience from all of them was the plethora of options this field could give me. I could perform research in neuroscience with a background in any science or math. Dr. Lee, for example, is a biologist, while Dr. Shim is skilled in computer science and math. If I pursued medical school, I could become a research neurologist or one in private practice. The research concentrations are nearly endless as well. My particular interest is behavioral neurology with an emphasis on autism spectrum disorders; nevertheless, the doctors that I met were performing ground-breaking research in drug studies, Alzheimer’s disease, and the zebrafish nervous system.
Dr. Lee gave me a broad look at the basics of neurology. Neurons are cells in the nervous system that send electrical impulses to the brain and other places to control certain functions. These neurons form complete circuits through which electricity can flow. Using neuron circuits, the brain stem can control breathing and the spinal cord can control ambulatory movement. Whenever neuron systems are severed, the circuit ceases to function. Interestingly, artificially induced jolts of electricity within the body can reconnect these pathways. According to Dr. Lee, scientists have also found that the spinal neurons controlling walking can be activated using tactile stimulation. Neurology is indubitably a fascinating field.
Finally, I spent the rest of the time shadowing Dr. Shim in his computer lab. He performs computer modeling for proteins, based on their amino acid structures. There are thousands of different protein structures in the human body, and scientists are familiar with every sequence. What is more difficult, however, is determining how protein molecules fold together based on their internal and external forces. Dr. Shim uses the Protein Data Bank, a website displaying images and sequencing for all known protein structures. By studying the known, he has a better idea of unknown protein shapes. The modeling program he uses is called Visual Molecular Dynamics, or VMD. Proteins are drawn as 3D shapes based on the x, y, and z coordinates of every amino acid. The constructed simulation can then be moved and manipulated in order to study its function. Dr. Shim’s task is to study the marijuana receptors in the brain. Marijuana has the power to alter these proteins at certain sites; therefore, the goal is to discover where these drugs bind.
I am eternally grateful to the aforementioned scientists for allowing me a glimpse at neurology’s significance and wonders. I am encouraged by this shadowing to continue my plans for neuroscience research. Whether I become a neurologist or neuroscientist, however, is yet to be seen.
One of the first facts I learned about neuroscience from all of them was the plethora of options this field could give me. I could perform research in neuroscience with a background in any science or math. Dr. Lee, for example, is a biologist, while Dr. Shim is skilled in computer science and math. If I pursued medical school, I could become a research neurologist or one in private practice. The research concentrations are nearly endless as well. My particular interest is behavioral neurology with an emphasis on autism spectrum disorders; nevertheless, the doctors that I met were performing ground-breaking research in drug studies, Alzheimer’s disease, and the zebrafish nervous system.
Dr. Lee gave me a broad look at the basics of neurology. Neurons are cells in the nervous system that send electrical impulses to the brain and other places to control certain functions. These neurons form complete circuits through which electricity can flow. Using neuron circuits, the brain stem can control breathing and the spinal cord can control ambulatory movement. Whenever neuron systems are severed, the circuit ceases to function. Interestingly, artificially induced jolts of electricity within the body can reconnect these pathways. According to Dr. Lee, scientists have also found that the spinal neurons controlling walking can be activated using tactile stimulation. Neurology is indubitably a fascinating field.
Finally, I spent the rest of the time shadowing Dr. Shim in his computer lab. He performs computer modeling for proteins, based on their amino acid structures. There are thousands of different protein structures in the human body, and scientists are familiar with every sequence. What is more difficult, however, is determining how protein molecules fold together based on their internal and external forces. Dr. Shim uses the Protein Data Bank, a website displaying images and sequencing for all known protein structures. By studying the known, he has a better idea of unknown protein shapes. The modeling program he uses is called Visual Molecular Dynamics, or VMD. Proteins are drawn as 3D shapes based on the x, y, and z coordinates of every amino acid. The constructed simulation can then be moved and manipulated in order to study its function. Dr. Shim’s task is to study the marijuana receptors in the brain. Marijuana has the power to alter these proteins at certain sites; therefore, the goal is to discover where these drugs bind.
I am eternally grateful to the aforementioned scientists for allowing me a glimpse at neurology’s significance and wonders. I am encouraged by this shadowing to continue my plans for neuroscience research. Whether I become a neurologist or neuroscientist, however, is yet to be seen.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Blood Diamonds
On Thursday of last week, I watched a documentary in class about conflict diamonds in South Africa and the atrocities there. Personally, I have always felt disgrace and disgust for the monolithic diamond and gold chains adorning the necks of celebrities, especially rappers. I was sure that this video, by presenting new facts about the background of some of this excessive jewelry, would merely bolster my views. I was wrong, or rather, shortsighted. This program did not just lambast Hollywood players in the diamond rush, but anyone who is too blinded by the status and beauty of diamonds to investigate their sources. Diamonds aren't bad, but conflict diamonds are.
And what are conflict, or blood, diamonds? Well, the history of diamonds in South Africa gives us our first clue. In the 1860s, diamonds were discovered in South Africa and, like everything else in Africa, exploited by resident Europeans. Mine workers could descend 2 miles underground, although they could be injured or killed by heat and frequent mine collapses. They worked miles away from their families and lived in hostels, which were basically dilapidated slums. Loneliness led to prostitute soliciting. Needless to say, AIDS wiped out many hostels.
Then rebel soldiers decided to use diamonds to fund themselves during guerilla war. They invade hostels and villages housing workers' families. Rather than just contenting themselves with stealing diamonds, they amputate entire limbs of workers and their families. Yes, this includes women and children as young as two years old. The stolen diamonds are then sold to companies, which disperse them across the US.
As alarming as this is, there is some good news. De Beers, the leading diamond distributor in the world, has instituted the Kimberley Process, a system that tracks every diamond received to prevent the purchase of conflict diamonds. Many other jewelers have devised similar plans. A significant portion of these companies, however, are not so dependable.
The conclusion of this documentary was not to stop purchasing diamonds, but rather to be aware of their sources. Remember, diamonds may be "forever," but so are our souls.
And what are conflict, or blood, diamonds? Well, the history of diamonds in South Africa gives us our first clue. In the 1860s, diamonds were discovered in South Africa and, like everything else in Africa, exploited by resident Europeans. Mine workers could descend 2 miles underground, although they could be injured or killed by heat and frequent mine collapses. They worked miles away from their families and lived in hostels, which were basically dilapidated slums. Loneliness led to prostitute soliciting. Needless to say, AIDS wiped out many hostels.
Then rebel soldiers decided to use diamonds to fund themselves during guerilla war. They invade hostels and villages housing workers' families. Rather than just contenting themselves with stealing diamonds, they amputate entire limbs of workers and their families. Yes, this includes women and children as young as two years old. The stolen diamonds are then sold to companies, which disperse them across the US.
As alarming as this is, there is some good news. De Beers, the leading diamond distributor in the world, has instituted the Kimberley Process, a system that tracks every diamond received to prevent the purchase of conflict diamonds. Many other jewelers have devised similar plans. A significant portion of these companies, however, are not so dependable.
The conclusion of this documentary was not to stop purchasing diamonds, but rather to be aware of their sources. Remember, diamonds may be "forever," but so are our souls.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Where Are You Going? Where Have You Been? (borrowed shamelessly from Joyce Carol Oates)
I won't pretend that I've never given a thought to my death. Sometimes the thought clings to me like ghostly fetters, and all other ideas kowtow to its weight. Mostly, however, I just avoid pondering on it for long.
Since last week, I've thought about my death more than ever before. Today, I turned in my obituary, written ostensibly by myself. The assignment was awkward to put it mildly, yet exciting as well. This was my opportunity to outline every long-term goal and desire that God has put upon my heart. Of course, I added a few personal wants, such as critical acclaim and success as well. Most importantly, this write-up forced me to choose what I wanted to do in my limited life. By my choices, neurology and fiction writing, I understand my true passions even more. So these are the things I want to do for the rest of life, the life works that I can't live without. My long-term plans will probably continue to fluctuate, but at least I have a working idea of how my life could be. I guess it's a start.
Since last week, I've thought about my death more than ever before. Today, I turned in my obituary, written ostensibly by myself. The assignment was awkward to put it mildly, yet exciting as well. This was my opportunity to outline every long-term goal and desire that God has put upon my heart. Of course, I added a few personal wants, such as critical acclaim and success as well. Most importantly, this write-up forced me to choose what I wanted to do in my limited life. By my choices, neurology and fiction writing, I understand my true passions even more. So these are the things I want to do for the rest of life, the life works that I can't live without. My long-term plans will probably continue to fluctuate, but at least I have a working idea of how my life could be. I guess it's a start.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Class Guest Speaker: Kyle Serba, Sports Information Director
On Thursday, my Media and Society class had a guest speaker who works with both media and sports. Mr. Serba is in charge of filming games, releasing campus sports news, and other administrative duties. Although I have never been interested in collegiate sports media, some of the ideas he suggested for this department sounded fantastic. As a school recently upgraded to Division I, a coaches program and more filming of game play will be a step in the right direction. For anyone aiming for a career in production, this promises more opportunities for camerawork as well. Overall, I look forward to the updates being made in the sports media department.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
For 24 hours, cellphones were not canon devices in my universe...
...and I nearly self-destructed. Well, not at first.
I begin my sans-mobile day in the afternoon, hoping to make the 24 hours pass by faster. So far, so good. The first few hours I spend in class, so I do not miss my phone at all. After class, I shut myself up in my room with a movie, and amazingly, no one interrupts me for 30 blissful minutes. Then my roommates invite me to water aerobics. Ok, I pause the movie to get ready. After all, who can resist an hour at the pool? At the gym, I swim to my hearts content with no pesky phone to pursue me from the deep. All joking aside, I truly do feel immense relief at not having to handle that device all night. Not once do I have to check my messages or return a call. I can just go through my day interacting only with people I see at the given moment. I feel vivified.
I return to my room after the swim and continue my movie. I get through it with minimal interuptions. Thanks to no cellphones of course! Then my roommates remind me to get ready for our night on the town. Here's where the torment begins.
I have to wash the chlorine from my hair, so I take much longer than usual to get ready. I'm almost done when my roommates suggest that they pick up the car from the parking lot. I agree and finish dressing. Minutes later, I'm wandering outside frantically peeling my eyes up and down the street and parking lot, searching for my roommates. I hurry back to the room, lest they return in my absence. Once I convince myself that they are not back yet, I race down the stairs to scan the streets again. After completing this ritual a couple times, I come up with a grand idea. In this unfamiliar world cellphones do not exist, but landlines do! I dial one of my roommates' numbers from my bulky, technologically uncouth corded phone. Oh yeah, who needs the mobile right? Why did I come up with this solution at the eleventh hour? Well, obviously, my dependency on cordless devices has temporarily damaged my critical thinking. The more sentimental explanation is that I was so distraught over my nonexistent cellphone, I couldn't think straight. Take your pick.
At any rate, I communicate with my roommates, and we have an awesome time. I come back so sleepy that I don't think of my cell once. The next morning, I awake to my alarm. At least that's what I think it is. The buzzing won't release me from its hold, even after I shut off my alarm. It must be that strange device sitting on my desk. In a somnolent state, I press a key. Sacre Bleu! Did I just touch my cell phone?! Thankfully, I immediately catch my blunder and proceed with my cellphone free world. It's a close call, nonetheless.
The rest of the day plays out as the last one did. I'm free from bothersome phone buzzes, but there's a hunger for my family back in Atlanta. I converse with them via e-mail, but there's nothing like the immediate gratification of a text message. Although this was an interesting experience, I am relieved when the statute of limitations is up. Almost on cue, I receive a call from my mother, and all is well.
Conclusion: Cellphones bring, with their convenience, certain annoyances that only come with technological advancement. Now, people can bug you almost anywhere, and you have nearly no excuse for missing a call. To eliminate any experimenter's bias, I propose going without people for 24 hours, keeping the cellphones, and comparing the results. I might discover that people are the problem, not that innocent little device buzzing plaintively at me from the corner. Then we can keep the phones and drop the callers.
Just kidding!
I begin my sans-mobile day in the afternoon, hoping to make the 24 hours pass by faster. So far, so good. The first few hours I spend in class, so I do not miss my phone at all. After class, I shut myself up in my room with a movie, and amazingly, no one interrupts me for 30 blissful minutes. Then my roommates invite me to water aerobics. Ok, I pause the movie to get ready. After all, who can resist an hour at the pool? At the gym, I swim to my hearts content with no pesky phone to pursue me from the deep. All joking aside, I truly do feel immense relief at not having to handle that device all night. Not once do I have to check my messages or return a call. I can just go through my day interacting only with people I see at the given moment. I feel vivified.
I return to my room after the swim and continue my movie. I get through it with minimal interuptions. Thanks to no cellphones of course! Then my roommates remind me to get ready for our night on the town. Here's where the torment begins.
I have to wash the chlorine from my hair, so I take much longer than usual to get ready. I'm almost done when my roommates suggest that they pick up the car from the parking lot. I agree and finish dressing. Minutes later, I'm wandering outside frantically peeling my eyes up and down the street and parking lot, searching for my roommates. I hurry back to the room, lest they return in my absence. Once I convince myself that they are not back yet, I race down the stairs to scan the streets again. After completing this ritual a couple times, I come up with a grand idea. In this unfamiliar world cellphones do not exist, but landlines do! I dial one of my roommates' numbers from my bulky, technologically uncouth corded phone. Oh yeah, who needs the mobile right? Why did I come up with this solution at the eleventh hour? Well, obviously, my dependency on cordless devices has temporarily damaged my critical thinking. The more sentimental explanation is that I was so distraught over my nonexistent cellphone, I couldn't think straight. Take your pick.
At any rate, I communicate with my roommates, and we have an awesome time. I come back so sleepy that I don't think of my cell once. The next morning, I awake to my alarm. At least that's what I think it is. The buzzing won't release me from its hold, even after I shut off my alarm. It must be that strange device sitting on my desk. In a somnolent state, I press a key. Sacre Bleu! Did I just touch my cell phone?! Thankfully, I immediately catch my blunder and proceed with my cellphone free world. It's a close call, nonetheless.
The rest of the day plays out as the last one did. I'm free from bothersome phone buzzes, but there's a hunger for my family back in Atlanta. I converse with them via e-mail, but there's nothing like the immediate gratification of a text message. Although this was an interesting experience, I am relieved when the statute of limitations is up. Almost on cue, I receive a call from my mother, and all is well.
Conclusion: Cellphones bring, with their convenience, certain annoyances that only come with technological advancement. Now, people can bug you almost anywhere, and you have nearly no excuse for missing a call. To eliminate any experimenter's bias, I propose going without people for 24 hours, keeping the cellphones, and comparing the results. I might discover that people are the problem, not that innocent little device buzzing plaintively at me from the corner. Then we can keep the phones and drop the callers.
Just kidding!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
The Top 5 "What the heck?" moments - Heroes edition!
As a writer, I appreciate Heroes for its engaging plots and the taglines that make nerdy fans everywhere drool. (My "Save the Cheerleader, Save the World" t-shirt still turns heads.) There are, nevertheless, plot elements that don't entirely make sense, or better yet, make you say "What the Heck?!"
Disclaimer: I am an uber-fan of Heroes, the kind of devoted viewer who will chew the head off of anyone who criticizes my show in anything but snarky fairness. That being said, I love poking fun at the things I love. Call me a hypocrite if you will.
The "What the Heck?" list:
1)Either Peter is too emotionally weak to resist a family hug, or he is an idiot. Why hasn't he learned that interacting with Petrellis in general, much less touching them, is a dangerous enterprise? And no, they will not cut you slack because you are their lovingly dense brother/son. Case in point: Nathan says, "Now give your big brother a hug" (or something along those lines) then has HRG taser little bro half to death. Idiot!
2)Speaking of Peter, it was nice to see him working as a paramedic. (Translation: It was nice to see him...um...WORKING!) Why is it that no one has a steady job on this show, save Matt Parkman of course, the all-around "I'm already a hero. I'm a policeman!" good guy. Sheesh, I wouldn't mind seeing Claire with a babysitting gig just to give the show a boost of realism. How do they eat...
3)...oh, that's right, they don't. This is a show notorious for its controversial character starvation diet. I cannot recall many episodes in which a character has consumed food, or even come near it. Well, except that time when Sylar was eating ice cream! And all this time, I thought he was sociopathic terminator robot with no human needs. He may not require regular sustenance, but he's a sucker for Baskin Robbins. Go figure. I feel like passing out meal replacement shakes so that they can eat on the run.
4)Speaking of running, Claire has been doing plenty of that lately, most of the time from her father. Both of them! Why can't this girl have one Dad who is not self-serving and balancing precariously between moral ambivalence and grandiose evil scheming? Why can't at least one of them put her interests before his own and take her out for breakfast and some Daddy-daughter bonding? Wait, that would require that they actually eat, wouldn't it. So never mind the breakfast. I'm still holding out hope that Claire will discover a long-lost step-father who can save her from her deadbeat dads.
5)Finally, my biggest current pet peeve of heroes: Where are the kids? Micah the techno-extraordinaire and Molly the human GPS have been missing from the show since the beginning of the season. I understand that their storylines are wearing thin, but at least give them more graceful exits. Molly was taken to the airport by Mohinder so that she could be flown somewhere safe. Wait...he sent a ten year old on a plane ride alone? And this is safer than being protected by a mind reader and strong man? Who wants to bet he was just tired of playing dad?
And the last time we saw Micah, he was grieving his mom. And just like that, he had left our tv screens, leaving ethereal memories of the adorable boy that was. Then, in the volume 3 finale, his picture is shown in a stack of hero photos handed to the president. Why would they show his face again if he was gone for good? Any reasonable person can guess, based on this clue and Heroes track record of raising characters from the dead, that it wouldn't be too far-fetched to bring this kid back. Besides, it is necessary to the life of the show. Any show's success can be attributed to the number of cute kids who have appeared on it. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating slightly. But still, epic cuteness is always welcome. I love a good Splenda rush.
Disclaimer: I am an uber-fan of Heroes, the kind of devoted viewer who will chew the head off of anyone who criticizes my show in anything but snarky fairness. That being said, I love poking fun at the things I love. Call me a hypocrite if you will.
The "What the Heck?" list:
1)Either Peter is too emotionally weak to resist a family hug, or he is an idiot. Why hasn't he learned that interacting with Petrellis in general, much less touching them, is a dangerous enterprise? And no, they will not cut you slack because you are their lovingly dense brother/son. Case in point: Nathan says, "Now give your big brother a hug" (or something along those lines) then has HRG taser little bro half to death. Idiot!
2)Speaking of Peter, it was nice to see him working as a paramedic. (Translation: It was nice to see him...um...WORKING!) Why is it that no one has a steady job on this show, save Matt Parkman of course, the all-around "I'm already a hero. I'm a policeman!" good guy. Sheesh, I wouldn't mind seeing Claire with a babysitting gig just to give the show a boost of realism. How do they eat...
3)...oh, that's right, they don't. This is a show notorious for its controversial character starvation diet. I cannot recall many episodes in which a character has consumed food, or even come near it. Well, except that time when Sylar was eating ice cream! And all this time, I thought he was sociopathic terminator robot with no human needs. He may not require regular sustenance, but he's a sucker for Baskin Robbins. Go figure. I feel like passing out meal replacement shakes so that they can eat on the run.
4)Speaking of running, Claire has been doing plenty of that lately, most of the time from her father. Both of them! Why can't this girl have one Dad who is not self-serving and balancing precariously between moral ambivalence and grandiose evil scheming? Why can't at least one of them put her interests before his own and take her out for breakfast and some Daddy-daughter bonding? Wait, that would require that they actually eat, wouldn't it. So never mind the breakfast. I'm still holding out hope that Claire will discover a long-lost step-father who can save her from her deadbeat dads.
5)Finally, my biggest current pet peeve of heroes: Where are the kids? Micah the techno-extraordinaire and Molly the human GPS have been missing from the show since the beginning of the season. I understand that their storylines are wearing thin, but at least give them more graceful exits. Molly was taken to the airport by Mohinder so that she could be flown somewhere safe. Wait...he sent a ten year old on a plane ride alone? And this is safer than being protected by a mind reader and strong man? Who wants to bet he was just tired of playing dad?
And the last time we saw Micah, he was grieving his mom. And just like that, he had left our tv screens, leaving ethereal memories of the adorable boy that was. Then, in the volume 3 finale, his picture is shown in a stack of hero photos handed to the president. Why would they show his face again if he was gone for good? Any reasonable person can guess, based on this clue and Heroes track record of raising characters from the dead, that it wouldn't be too far-fetched to bring this kid back. Besides, it is necessary to the life of the show. Any show's success can be attributed to the number of cute kids who have appeared on it. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating slightly. But still, epic cuteness is always welcome. I love a good Splenda rush.
Coraline (NOT Caroline!)
I am a pretty mellow person, so I have only a few, quite reasonable pet peeves. One is scraping an iron frying pan, another is erasing a white board and leaving residue behind, and another is folding books into insane contortions that, as you read, leave personal creases and dog ears. Like I said, run of the mill annoyances.
There is one elusive idiosyncrasy that, before now, I did not realize I possessed. Why has it incubated for so long? Because I had never seen it done before. Now, thanks to Focus Features, it has been done to one of my favorite books, Coraline by Neil Gaiman. What have they done, you ask? They have....gasp...altered the tone of my story completely to reach a larger audience.
Okay, so maybe that is not the worst thing they could have done to the book. I think the character of Wybie Lovat might take that prize. But nevertheless...Every trailer I have seen has transformed this chilling, gothic story into James and the Giant Peach meets Alice and Wonderland. Hold on, James and the Giant Peach was scary. And if you don't believe me, you try watching the shark scene alone in the dark.
But maybe I'm being too harsh to the film. Maybe I can attribute my annoyance to false advertising, incredibly false advertising, and I will be properly horrified in the theater. I will certainly give the movie a chance to redeem itself. Neil Gaiman deserves this. And if the movie is good, I'll give him AND Focus Features praise for respecting a classic story. And if not...well, I'll just tell myself that I'm not watching Coraline but Caroline, a fun story about a girl with spunk and a magical, harmless, completely unscary world. Nothing wrong with that. I'll just discreetly leave and head to the right theater, the one that is showing the movie I really paid to see...wait, that was it?!
There is one elusive idiosyncrasy that, before now, I did not realize I possessed. Why has it incubated for so long? Because I had never seen it done before. Now, thanks to Focus Features, it has been done to one of my favorite books, Coraline by Neil Gaiman. What have they done, you ask? They have....gasp...altered the tone of my story completely to reach a larger audience.
Okay, so maybe that is not the worst thing they could have done to the book. I think the character of Wybie Lovat might take that prize. But nevertheless...Every trailer I have seen has transformed this chilling, gothic story into James and the Giant Peach meets Alice and Wonderland. Hold on, James and the Giant Peach was scary. And if you don't believe me, you try watching the shark scene alone in the dark.
But maybe I'm being too harsh to the film. Maybe I can attribute my annoyance to false advertising, incredibly false advertising, and I will be properly horrified in the theater. I will certainly give the movie a chance to redeem itself. Neil Gaiman deserves this. And if the movie is good, I'll give him AND Focus Features praise for respecting a classic story. And if not...well, I'll just tell myself that I'm not watching Coraline but Caroline, a fun story about a girl with spunk and a magical, harmless, completely unscary world. Nothing wrong with that. I'll just discreetly leave and head to the right theater, the one that is showing the movie I really paid to see...wait, that was it?!
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Strictly Lit! (I mean it this time!)
So here's the thing: I've posted several entries, and none of them have much to do with literary interests. Before my loyal readers (lacking in that department currently, but just you wait) abandon me for false advertising, I plan to unsully my name by providing my ingenious perspective on an actual book for once. Here goes. Let's talk The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. I love this book with a fierce passion that extends beyond childish fancies or critical appreciation. I love the book for its fantastical nature and its scholarly, yet lyrical wording. It impressed me, astonished, frightened me, and at times ensnared me in a deathhold. There are few adjectives that I could use to describe its affect, and at times I wonder just what drew me to this type of story. Then I cradle the book in my palms and reread my favorite passages. And, just like that, I remember.
The story is rather complex and intertwined, so I will only briefly explain it here. The book follows the perspective of Margaret Lea, a young biographer who was raised in a bookstore, literally. Her father owns an antique bookshop, which shelves rare and classic novels, almanacs, references, and so on. From her experiences in this store, she has developed a fervor for the written word above human beings, a fervor aptly described by Setterfield. The language she uses to intimate reading could only be written or even appreciated by a reader. To continue, the story begins when Margaret is sent a letter from the mysterious Vida Winter, the top living writer in the world. Winter has fabricated countless stories of her life for years, and now she is finally ready to tell the truth. Struck by Margaret's understanding of siblings in her previous work, Winter is willing to tell her story only to her. Margaret is then free to do with it what she wishes. Margaret agrees and is whisked away to Winter's estate.
But this is mere backstory. The plot proper begins with the tale itself, a sordid mystery involving dysfunctional siblings, a governess, and a terrible fire. To complicate things, some aspects of Winter's life mirror Margaret's own, so she has vested interest in how this story turns out. The rest I leave for you to discover.
Setterfield coaxes out her story with affection and takes her time with every passage. The story is long but also intense, so it never feels drawn out. I often relished the more verbose scenes, because they offered a needed break from the pulse-pounding drama of Winter's recollections. Even when you are given information, however, it is just enough to keep you immersed in the story. Nothing is as it seems. The most straightforward element in the story is quite twisted. There is so much that you don't know, but until the end, even you are not sure that you don't know it. This book is a game, a wicked but brilliant game. And the prize? If the twist itself is the trophy, fully understanding said twist's implications is the prize money. It is the reader's job to figure out which one he or she values more. For me, the jury's still out. Any excuse to reread my new favorite book of all time. I will warn you: falling in love with this novel will lead you into a voracious search for new material from the author. Unfortunately, her next novel is still in progress; regardless, I expect only great things from Mrs. Setterfield.
The story is rather complex and intertwined, so I will only briefly explain it here. The book follows the perspective of Margaret Lea, a young biographer who was raised in a bookstore, literally. Her father owns an antique bookshop, which shelves rare and classic novels, almanacs, references, and so on. From her experiences in this store, she has developed a fervor for the written word above human beings, a fervor aptly described by Setterfield. The language she uses to intimate reading could only be written or even appreciated by a reader. To continue, the story begins when Margaret is sent a letter from the mysterious Vida Winter, the top living writer in the world. Winter has fabricated countless stories of her life for years, and now she is finally ready to tell the truth. Struck by Margaret's understanding of siblings in her previous work, Winter is willing to tell her story only to her. Margaret is then free to do with it what she wishes. Margaret agrees and is whisked away to Winter's estate.
But this is mere backstory. The plot proper begins with the tale itself, a sordid mystery involving dysfunctional siblings, a governess, and a terrible fire. To complicate things, some aspects of Winter's life mirror Margaret's own, so she has vested interest in how this story turns out. The rest I leave for you to discover.
Setterfield coaxes out her story with affection and takes her time with every passage. The story is long but also intense, so it never feels drawn out. I often relished the more verbose scenes, because they offered a needed break from the pulse-pounding drama of Winter's recollections. Even when you are given information, however, it is just enough to keep you immersed in the story. Nothing is as it seems. The most straightforward element in the story is quite twisted. There is so much that you don't know, but until the end, even you are not sure that you don't know it. This book is a game, a wicked but brilliant game. And the prize? If the twist itself is the trophy, fully understanding said twist's implications is the prize money. It is the reader's job to figure out which one he or she values more. For me, the jury's still out. Any excuse to reread my new favorite book of all time. I will warn you: falling in love with this novel will lead you into a voracious search for new material from the author. Unfortunately, her next novel is still in progress; regardless, I expect only great things from Mrs. Setterfield.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Yesterday, a blustery snow day that I spent entirely indoors, I watched history and progress coincide. I watched the presidential inauguration from the awkward bustling of the burgeoning crowd to the final waves of Obama and his wife to the former head of state and his first lady. No detail of the ceremony escaped me as I sat transfixed at my television screen. Of all the emotions I experienced that morning, the most dominant was admiration. Admiration for Obama's courage in taking a nation in such turmoil, admiration for his loyal, headstrong wife, admiration for his fatherhood, and admiration for my nation's wise choice. But most of all, admiration that I finally had a president who reminded me of Dad. Not just because of his brown skin and love for his two daughters, something my father and he have in common, but because of his character and his honor. My father is my human hero, and now my president is a close second. My memories of the ceremony will last forever. I will draw upon these memories as encouragement to perform at my best in every aspect of my life. And now, as a black community, we have no excuse not to pursue the dreams imposed on our hearts. I watched the inauguration on my television in my dorm room, but even if I had not been home, I would have found a way. From cellphones, to laptops, to Ipods, there is always something. There are certain things that you don't want to miss, and there are some things that you simply CAN'T miss. Watching President Obama solemnly swear upon THE Lincoln Bible (He is the first president to do so since Lincoln!) was the latter.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
"Have a plan, have faith, and work hard"
Those were the sentiments of Byron Pitts of CBS news on a video clip we watched during Mass Med & Soc. class on Thursday. Pitts was convinced that Obama's election to office would not significantly improve black opportunites in journalism. I would like to extend that idea to every aspect of black life in the United States. We should not use President Obama's win as a "get out of jail free" card so to speak. He is a human being with influence, but we overestimate his influence. The pressure on our new president to perform well in every arena, simultaneously rescuing black Americans from discrimination and inequality, is unrealistic and overwhelming. His responsibility is to the nation as a whole. He has the power now to provide more opportunities for success, but it is up to us to take advantage of these opportunities. As President Obama believes, we need to become the change we want to see.
Another clip watched in class was a 1994 news panel of black entrepeneurs and corporate leaders, such as Ben Ruffin, the VP of corporate affairs at RJR/Nabisco, and Maceo K. Sloan, CEO of Sloan Financial Group. The third member of the group was Melanie Wilson, the planning director of the town of Garner. This well-rounded bunch offered several admonitions to the black community about taking charge of their futures. One point that felt strongly about was the idea that most black people have lost a sense of community and that the youth of our community have forgotten our historic struggles and triumphs. So what should we blame: according to the panel, with which I heartily agree, it is the theory of "meism." This idea is prevalent throughout America, regardless of color, but is is particularly destructive to us. Meism encourages ruthlessnes, greed, narcissism, and in its most primal form, division. Quite honestly, I believe that meism, seeking after your own pleasure or satisfaction whatever the cost, should be abolished altogether. It has set a bad precedent for corruption and a calloused business world. You can be competitive in life without oppressing others.
Another clip watched in class was a 1994 news panel of black entrepeneurs and corporate leaders, such as Ben Ruffin, the VP of corporate affairs at RJR/Nabisco, and Maceo K. Sloan, CEO of Sloan Financial Group. The third member of the group was Melanie Wilson, the planning director of the town of Garner. This well-rounded bunch offered several admonitions to the black community about taking charge of their futures. One point that felt strongly about was the idea that most black people have lost a sense of community and that the youth of our community have forgotten our historic struggles and triumphs. So what should we blame: according to the panel, with which I heartily agree, it is the theory of "meism." This idea is prevalent throughout America, regardless of color, but is is particularly destructive to us. Meism encourages ruthlessnes, greed, narcissism, and in its most primal form, division. Quite honestly, I believe that meism, seeking after your own pleasure or satisfaction whatever the cost, should be abolished altogether. It has set a bad precedent for corruption and a calloused business world. You can be competitive in life without oppressing others.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
My first blog!
I have always been curious, or suspicious (take your pick), about bloggers. They are transcendent beings with a plethora of time and passion for various subjects. I have the passion. Time for blogging, on the other hand, is much more ethereal. I choose instead to indiscriminately lurk on any blog or forum of interest. But now, I too am a revolutionary blogger, due solely to my participation in my Mass Media and Society class.
I am taking this class for my enjoyment, since it is neither required for my major, nor part of my GEC requirement. Mass media's ability to connect human beings despite our differences and its psychological influence over us, however, have always fascinated me. As a not quite published novelist, understanding this influence and how to control it is reason enough to undertake this class. But there is a more underlying reason for pursuing this course. After all, if it could convince me to blog, how much more could it transform my life?
I am taking this class for my enjoyment, since it is neither required for my major, nor part of my GEC requirement. Mass media's ability to connect human beings despite our differences and its psychological influence over us, however, have always fascinated me. As a not quite published novelist, understanding this influence and how to control it is reason enough to undertake this class. But there is a more underlying reason for pursuing this course. After all, if it could convince me to blog, how much more could it transform my life?
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