Half a Century of Thoughts -- part three (the 80s)

The 80s were seriously weird. We recently re-watched Working Girl ('88), and I was amazed at just how big the hair was in that movie. I think it added a foot to Joan Cusack's height. And I'm not even going to talk about her eye shadow. Look, I lived through the 80s, and I was still amazed. The hair, the shoulder pads (what the fuck was up with the shoulder pads!?!?), the makeup...

And I'm not even going to go into the clothing trends. Nope, not gonna touch it. Well, other than the aforementioned shoulder pads.

The problem with the 80s is that it was a somewhat schizophrenic decade, marked by both an unparalleled optimism about the future (we had space shuttles!) and a certainty that that future would never arrive (space shuttles blow up). This contrast is probably showcased best in the song by Timbuk 3, "The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades."


In case you didn't know, the future's so bright in the song due to the coming nuclear holocaust, not because everything was coming up roses. Unless those roses were going to glow in the dark and have radioactive poison in their thorns. I mean, at Christmas one year during middle school, my English class won the door design contest for our version of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas," the brainchild of a friend of mine and I as we sang, "I'm dreaming of a nuclear winter..."
And that hopelessly dim view of the future won the design contest of what was supposed to be the happiest time of the year.

That should tell you something.

I'm gonna tell you: It's difficult to be so optimistic and, yet, so pessimistic about the future at the same time. But we were. We both believed that science would be the salvation of the future and that we were all going to die in a nuclear holocaust before that could happen. Remember War Games?

And here's the thing: There was a kind of general understanding -- an agreement, if you will -- between Gen X and... whoever (not the Boomers) that if we could just get past the imminent doom that things would get better. We would harness science and step boldly into the future.
For real this time.

But, then, there were the Boomers, who, as a generational body (I'm not talking about specific individuals) believe only in self-indulgence, personified in our current "president" (#fakepresident), who derailed everything in the name of profit. After all, why build anything for the future (as their parents had and their parents had) when they wouldn't be around to enjoy it. Eat it all now. Eat the world. Leave nothing for anyone else. Ever.

Of course, we didn't realize that's how it was at first. We got through the 80s, the Berlin wall came down, nukes were taken off the table. The jet packs and flying cars were coming...

The problem was that every time the Boomers had a chance to do something good for the world, they chose, instead, to do something bad which would allow them to make money. All you have to do is look at what Trump (#fakepresident) has done since he got into office to see how all of this has played out. He is the epitome of Boomers and self-indulgence.

It's like coming home from school and finding out that your mother has given away your comic book collection, all of which were bought with your own very hard earned money (it was difficult, at seven, to find other people who would give you jobs to do since your own parents wouldn't give you an allowance or any way of earning money). And her only reason? Basically, she felt like it. Someone else showed an interest in them, so she gave them away.

Or, even worse, when you've spent hours and hours and hours making something and come home to find that your mom has come into your room and thrown it away. Because.
There's something in someone who would do such thing (either thing) that is just about causing pain to someone else. Like it's a zero-sum game. If someone else is happy, they are taking away from my happiness, so I need to do something to make them sad.

For some reason, Boomers have an outlook that says that life is a zero-sum game and they can't win until and unless they make everyone else lose.
I imagine that it's a sad existence for them, which is why they are so busy trying to make it a sad existence for everyone else.

And this is where I am, back in the 80s. All of the very worst parts of the 80s have sprung back into existence with the added bonus of environmental collapse.
It's like we haven't learned anything.
Or, well, the Boomers haven't, at any rate. Especially the old, white male Boomers.
You will never find a more disgusting hive of scum and villainy.

I Never Had Big HAIR

My daughter's in choir this year. A few nights ago, they had this big concert performance thing with the other high schools in the city where we live. Mostly, the choirs sing the kinds of songs you'd expect high school choirs to sing: old songs, frequently religious in nature, that sound very somber and serious. Mostly, it's uninspired, safe choices, but that's the way these things go, right?

Don't get me wrong, there are exceptions even when the school is staying within the paradigm, but, generally speaking, the music isn't very... exciting.

However! One of the schools did a whole 80s-themed set with music by the likes of Tears for Fears and Queen. It was a lot of fun, and the kids even dressed in (mostly) 80s styles. The one thing they didn't get right? The HAIR! Not a single one of them had appropriate 80s HAIR!

Now, look, I get it: 80s HAIR takes a certain amount of commitment, possibly more than is appropriate to ask of a high school student for a single evening's performance, but I think it would have taken their performance up another level.

But, then, who am I to talk? I never had 80s hair.

Hey! It's not my fault! My hair was already thinning by the time I was 15, and you can see the progression of my hair loss in my student IDs/yearbook photos. No, I can't show them to you. For one thing, I only have one of my yearbooks (and that not exactly on purpose), and, though I still have my student IDs (at least, I'm pretty sure I do), I have no idea where they are in the catastrophe of boxes that is my garage. (If you want to buy any of my old collectible stuff, make sure you check out my eBay auctions!)

At any rate, the whole HAIR thing got me to thinking... And I kind of wish I had an old 80s photo of me with big HAIR to post: But do I really? Okay, no, not really. Don't get me wrong; if I had one, I would post it, but, alas...

Oh! But the HAIR thing got me thinking; I'm just not sure about what. How weird things were in the 80s? Where things actually weird in the 80s? Would I go back and re-live the 80s and high school if I could? The answer to that used to always be "no fucking way," but I've been rethinking that a bit lately. Not because I would want to go back to the 80s for its own sake, but it's clear to me now that the 80s was when we really started to go off the rails as a nation. Reagan's presidency was a disaster and set up for so much of what is going on today. So, yeah, I would probably choose to do that all over again just so that I could be more politically aware at a younger age and start working then to stop what is happening now.

And, well, opt out of "christianity" at an age where I could have been saved from "christianity" and its harmful effects.

So, anyway, one of the songs that choir sang was "Everybody Wants to Rule the World," and that also got me thinking. I mean, would I want to rule the world? At this point, oh, absolutely! Which I never would have said when I was younger. Or even a few years ago. So, I thought, hey! I'll write a post about that in relation to the song! I mean, that would be cool, right? But...

The problem arose when I looked up the lyrics to the song... What the fuck? What does any of that even mean? Which reminded that I have actually looked up those lyrics before and had the same thought. Other than the line, "Everybody wants to rule the world," which is pretty self-explanatory, the rest of the song is nearly meaningless phrases joined together by... nothing. And maybe that's what the 80s were like? Anyway... Because it's probably still a good song, here you go:

Bumblebee (a movie review post)

I haven't made it a secret on here that I have a Transformers bias but, then, I also haven't made it a secret that I thought at least the last two Transformer movies were trash. Though I can't seem to find those reviews now (I'm sure I did them?) through a keyword search, and I don't have time to dig back through my posts individually to find them. Let's just say that the cancellation of the two planned sequels to The Last Knight was well deserved. I'm still kind of boggled that Bumblebee survived the crushing failure of Last Knight.

But it did survive, and I'm so glad it did because it is easily the best movie of the franchise, and I really liked the first Transformers movie a lot, though I have to say that the opening sequence in Bumblebee, the last defense of Cybertron and its fall, is by far the best scene in any of the movies. By far. They managed to perfectly capture the feel of the generation one Transformers in basically every way. And my son nearly exploded in geeky happiness when Soundwave popped up onscreen. The opening scene is worth the movie, and that's saying a lot because the movie is good. I'm very glad I made it to the theater to see it rather than having to watch the DVD release. It's worth the big screen.

All of that said, the movie does have some issues, small ones, but some of them are worth noting. Primarily, the family dynamic in Bumblebee is very similar to the one with Sam in the first Transformers movie, the only deference here is that the dad is a stepdad and Charlie is having issues because the rest of her family seems to have moved on since the death of her father. So, yeah, the protagonist has orphan syndrome, which I could have done without. And, honestly, I'm ready for Hailee Steinfeld to move on to some role other than out-of-sorts orphan. She plays it well, but it seems to be the only role she gets cast in.

Not that I was bothered by the orphan thing during the movie. I didn't think about that until after. Which means the movie did its job and let me suspend my disbelief. I'm sure in no small part due to Steinfeld's expertise in that role.

John Cena was a lot of fun, too, even as the misguided villain. Jorge Lendeborg was also great and played the lovestruck companion pretty well. And, now that I'm thinking of all of this, I'm kind of bummed that this was a one-shot movie (at least at the moment) because I would like to see a lot of these characters again. Even Jason Drucker as Otis, Charlie's younger brother. He was appropriately annoying and oh so 80s with his fixation on martial arts.

But I digress... I was talking about issues with the movie.
I think the biggest one is the plot hole it opened in the series. In one of the previous movies -- Last Knight, I think -- there is a photo of Bumblebee during World War II (or maybe WWI?), but this movie heavily implies that Bumblebee has never been to Earth prior to this trip. It's not explicit, though, so maybe it's not a plot hole at all. Still, it's been bothering me.

Yep, okay, that's about it. Well, other than the movie being pretty standard in terms of plot. But they pulled it off with style, and I'm okay with it. It was a lot of fun, and I'm ready to see it again.

Rebels: "Imperial Supercommandos" (Ep. 3.07)

-- "Strategy is an art. Maybe I'm luring you into a false sense of security."

Oh, wow, it's been a while since I've done one of these. I've just been busy, I guess.

But this was a good, and exciting, episode to jump back in on.

Of course, the Mandalorian stuff is always good. Or, at least, interesting. This one was both.

This episode ties back to... oh, I don't know, some episode or other, back in season two, I think. Another Mandalorian episode, but I'm not going to go look it up, right now. At any rate, in the earlier episode, the Rebels cook up a deal with a Mandalorian outpost for safe passage through their system.  But that outpost has gone silent, so Ezra and Sabine, along with a "guest," go to check it out. They fear the Mandalorians may be setting a trap for Rebel ships passing through the system. Oh, the deal? Well, it wasn't exactly reached by choice on the part of the Mandalorians.

When they get there, though, the find that the base has been wiped out, everyone killed. Those responsible? Imperial Supercommandos. And they are pretty cool looking, let me tell you. They are also traitor Mandalorians who joined the Empire, which is part of why they're so cool. They're like hybrid stormtrooper/Mandalorians. And what kid didn't want that action figure back in the 80s?!?! Or now, probably.

The episode is actually a lot more complex than what I've gone into here, but, hey, no spoilers, right? Well, I guess I kind of did give a spoiler about the commandos... excuse me, supercommandos! But, hey, it's in the title, so I'm going to give it a pass.

And, well, we find out a thing about Sabine, and I think that's going to come back to haunt her. Or us. I am writing this on Halloween evening, so I'm going with the haunt... Hey, you know what? No one ever goes trick-or-treating as a ghost anymore. Did Charlie Brown ruin it for everyone?
Maybe no one ever went as a ghost? Except me... Because I did, sort of, when I was 11: the ghost of Scooby Doo. Yeah, I'm not going to explain that.



"What took you so long?"
"I was using strategy! It takes longer!"

Someone in My Chair

The apartment was dark as I entered, which was not unusual, as I never left the lights on when I left. It's just that it seemed darker than usual, but, perhaps, that was because the television was on, the sound turned down to a vague hum, and the dim light from the screen highlighted the darkness in the rest of the room, filling it with weird shadows and flickering lights.

The television was the problem. I was sure I hadn't left it on. I hadn't even been watching TV before I left, but, yet, there it was, its pale light glinting off of the hard surfaces in the room. Glinting off the whiskey bottle dangling from the hand of the man sitting in my easy chair...

There was someone sitting in my easy chair! What the fuck?

I stood silently by the door, not moving. Not breathing. Trying to still the sudden slamming of my heart in my chest through force of will. The pulsing of the blood in my ears and the hammering of my heart drowned out all other sound and, for a moment, I wasn't sure if, maybe, an earthquake hadn't started while I was standing there. The room seemed unstable enough for it.

But, no, it was me. My world spinning. Someone in my home, sitting in my chair, drinking my liquor. I was frozen in indecision, not unlike a squirrel in front of an oncoming car.

I held a squirrel once. It was injured, and I picked it up with thoughts of helping it. I'm not sure what I thought I would do to help it since I don't know the first thing about first aid or medicine, especially to do with animals, or anything of the sort, but that's what I had thought. Its little heart pelted my hand with tiny blows as I picked it up to carry it up to my apartment. I spoke softly to it hoping to soothe it, but I could tell it was freaking out. As I was going up the stairs to my building, without warning, it sprang from my hand and bounced down the stairs. I retrieved it quickly but, by the time I had gotten up to the door, it was dead.

I felt like that squirrel, gripped by some strange hand holding a whiskey bottle. Frozen but ready to leap. If only I knew where to leap. To the phone? Could I make it to the phone and dial 9-1-1 before the man reacted to my presence? What if he had a weapon? Not that that would matter; I wasn't a fighter. I wasn't really a lover, either, but I certainly wasn't a fighter.

Should I back out the door? Matilda was just a few doors down. I could use her phone. But it was Wednesday... She wouldn't be home. Wednesday was bingo night. Leave it to me to have an intruder on the one night during the week when my one friend in the building wasn't home. Which left me wondering why I had never bothered to make any other friends in the building. Not that I really had to wonder. I knew what kind of person I was, the kind who hung out in bars with people who were your friends as long as you were buying the drinks. People whose names I couldn't remember from one night to the next. And who couldn't remember mine.

Matilda was only my friend because she'd taken it upon herself to befriend me, bringing me actual food for dinner rather than allowing me to subsist on an all alcohol diet. In exchange I did the occasional chore for her, like carrying her trash down to the bin or...

Well, it didn't matter. She wasn't home, and my only other option was to go banging door to door, and I wasn't going to do that. Not only wasn't I going to do that but doing that might arouse the intruder from all the noise, so I certainly wasn't going to do that. If only pay phones were still a thing! But I couldn't think of the last place I'd even seen one...

Other than the bar a couple blocks over, the bar I spent most of my evenings in. They still had a pay phone! It was a pretty far way to go to call the cops on an intruder in my apartment when I was standing in the door to my apartment, but I didn't see what other option I might have. Which, I suppose, serves me right for never bothering to get a cell phone. Which I didn't need. Since I never called anyone.

Really, I just hadn't seen the need after my partner died three years ago. He was the social one. The one who liked to have friends over and who, evidently, maintained all of our connections. Right up until he got really sick and people quit coming around. Despite all of the talk, it seemed people still had that same 80s fear of AIDS and, yes, people still die of it. Excuse me, people still die of complications caused by AIDS. Why bother with a cell phone; I didn't want to talk to any of those people.

A low moan drifted up from somewhere in the vicinity of my chair -- my chair! -- and I was reminded of what I needed the phone for in the first place. Stupid stupid to let my mind wander around like that with an intruder sitting in my chair not much farther away than spitting distance from me. What was wrong with me? I hadn't had that much to drink. I hadn't even needed a ride home from the bar..

The pounding of my heart in my ears was making it hard to think. I just needed to get away but, when I reached for the door so that I could ease back out, I bumped it closed instead. The noise was deafening. Or may as well have been. It was enough to attract the attention of the intruder, and his head slowly turned toward me.

You'd probably expect that someone intruding in someone else's house would have a stronger reaction than to slowly turn one's head at an unexpected noise, but he wasn't just holding the whiskey bottle, it seemed. The bottle was nearly empty. Not that I really noticed that at the time. At the time, I was frantically trying to get out the door of my own house. That's somewhat more difficult to do when you're trying to move against the opening of the door.

It didn't help that I was being stared at by a bleary, bloodshot, yellow eye.

Maybe there was another moan. Maybe it was me trying not to scream. Maybe it was the squeaking of the chair. I couldn't tell over the pounding of my heart and the scrape of the door as I wrenched it open. Then I was gone. I don't even know if I shut the door behind me or not. Not that it mattered since there was already someone in my apartment. At that moment, I didn't care. I just wanted away. What to do about the person in my chair was a problem for some other time.

Ready Player One (a movie review post)

First, I have not read Ready Player One.
I've thought about reading it for a while, now, because, evidently, it made a big splash in certain circles. It's one of those books that I would read for the sake of seeing what the big deal is as opposed to having any real interest in the genre or the subject matter. HOWEVER...
After seeing the movie, I have lost all desire to read the book.
And that is a failing on the part of the movie. If an adaptation is good, it will give you a desire to seek out the source material, and this movie killed the desire I already had in reading the book.

Well, Ernest Cline probably played a part in that, too. I heard an interview with him where he goes on and on, basically, about how great he is and how original his novel is and how no one had ever done anything like that before...
Wait a minute! Original? Does he actually think his idea about a virtual world is original? Because that's what he said.
But, maybe, he comes from an alternate Earth where Snow Crash and the Otherland series and a plethora of other novels were never written so he thought he was first. Except I'm sure that's not the case. He's just one of those guys who is full of himself. Maybe it was because his book was a smash hit, but, honestly, he's probably been like that his whole life.

The lacklusterness of the movie didn't do anything to convince me otherwise.

Yes, I just called the movie "lackluster," which is not to say that it wasn't full of luster. It's shiny and sparkly and full of sheen. It is, after all, Spielberg, and the man knows how to make a movie. So, if you just want to wallow in the visual extravagance of it all, this movie will do it for you. It's like a reflecting pool.

Which is to say that it's shallow.
Shallow as heck.
It has one message: People spend too much time online.
It has one message, and the movie isn't really subtle about its presentation of it: People spend too much time online.
It has one message that they are so worried you won't get that they slap you in the face with it at the end of the movie: Get the fuck off your computer a couple of days a week!
Okay, so they're not quite that aggressive with it, but it's close. It is a PG-13 movie, after all.

Part of the draw for me for seeing the movie was the supposed 80s pop culture theme. I mean, I grew up in the 80s so, of course, that was a draw. The problem, then, is that this is just not true. Which is not to say that the movie doesn't have 80s pop culture references; the protagonist does, after all, drive a DeLorean. But it's misleading to say that the movie is a tribute to the 80s. Actually, that's an outright lie. It's not the 80s that the movie is a tribute to but pop culture itself. Sure, the 80s gets plenty of screen time, but the movie opens with a nod to Minecraft and soon follows with a twister reminiscent of The Wizard of Oz, neither of which have anything to do with the 80s. The Atari and D&D references are more appropriately attributed to the 70s.

There's nothing wrong with all of the other pop culture references -- I think it's better, in fact -- I just find the misrepresentation, mostly on the part of viewers from what I can tell, to be interesting. Maybe people seeing the movie are missing the non-80s references? Or, maybe, because there are a lot of video game references, they have no context at all for getting those? Or maybe they're placing other references they're familiar with into the 80s because that's when they became familiar with said reference. Like Willy Wonka, also from the 70s. I don't know.

People are weird.

To be clear, it's not a bad movie. The movie is thoroughly enjoyable in a cotton candy kind of way. It's visually exciting and won't tax your brain by giving you any thoughts or asking you to figure anything out. It's also totally forgettable, which I find unfortunate. Like cotton candy, it's going to melt in your mouth before you ever get a chance to swallow; I just find myself preferring things with more substance these days. Or all of my days, actually, I suppose.

No stand out performances, either. They're all adequate, but no one worth mentioning, not even Simon Pegg, though he's as enjoyable as ever.

Logan (a movie review post)

Relatively speaking, I was an early adopter when it comes to Wolverine. I was already following him as a character when his original limited series came out in 1982, and I would be lying to say that he was not one of my main reasons for following the X-Men through the 80s. Well, Wolverine along with the writing of Chris Claremont, unarguably one of the best comic book writers ever. Ironically, Claremont didn't care for Wolverine as a character and almost dropped him completely from the X-Men lineup in the late 70s. It was John Byrne who saved the character out of a fondness for a fellow Canadian.

That said, it's been 15 years since the last time I read any Wolverine (or any comics at all, really, other than a few here or there that one or more of my kids might have had lying around), that being Origin,

a story I didn't much care for overall. It suffers from many of the same problems as Logan, those being trying to fill in details around a character to achieve a particular goal even when those details don't really fit with the character that has been created.

Mostly, though, what Logan proves is that Fox is no more capable of creating a cohesive continuity for their super hero films than Warner Brothers. It's sort of like having your tea bag break in your cup of tea. If you're careful and drink slowly, you can manage to mostly keep the tea leaves out of your mouth... until you get to that point where you have to throw the last quarter of it out because the leaves are too dense. Until that point, though, the tea is enjoyable as long as you keep it to small doses.

So, yes, Logan is a mostly enjoyable film. It accomplishes the one thing I'm sure all Wolverine fans have been waiting to see: Wolverine really cutting loose with his claws without the need of keeping the bloodshed to a PG-13 rating. And cut loose he does: arms, legs, and heads. That alone is probably worth the movie for the true fans.

The aspect of the movie I found most interesting was the question raised about mutants and their powers when they get old. Of course, the movie only works around the question without ever really addressing it, but we do get to see some of the effects in the aged Charles Xavier as he struggles to maintain control over his mental abilities.

Stephen Merchant as Caliban was a pleasant surprise. I like Merchant, and he was perfect in this role. Dafne Keen was also great. She has a brooding stare which is easily the match of Jackman's.

However, the movie is utterly predictable, wasting a perfect opportunity to do something above and beyond that was afforded it by  the success of Deadpool, probably the only super hero movie Fox has nailed since X-Men 2 in 2003. That said, considering that Jackman is not returning to the claws again after this movie (unless Ryan Reynolds does somehow convince Jackman to do that Deadpool/Wolverine team-up movie), Logan is a good send off. Good enough, at any rate.

But it could it have been better if only Marvel had done it, which is the thought I have after every one of the X-Men movies since the advent of the MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe) with Iron Man back in 2008. Sony wised up and went to Marvel to get Spider-Man on the right track; maybe there's hope that Fox will do the same.

Clone Wars -- "A War on Two Fronts" (Ep. 5.1)

-- Fear is a malleable weapon.

[Remember, you can sign up to join the Clone Wars Project at any time by clicking this link.]

Season five starts with a... newly found special significance, the introduction of Saw Gerrera. Saw started his opposition against the Empire while it was still the Separatist movement, and we get to see those origins in this episode.

This is also a very relevant political episode, a social commentary on terrorism and how governments can, perhaps even, inadvertently create terrorist organizations. I think nearly all modern terrorists groups in the Middle East can be traced back to the 80s and the politics of Reagan. Sure, it was to "stop the spread of communism," but we gave them weapons; we trained them, look where that took us.

The idea to equip groups and offer training to them is, of course, Anakin's. He calls this supporting rebel cells. Some other Jedi, notably Obi-Wan and Yoda, worry about the creation of terrorist groups. I think we can see the seeds of the Rebellion being planted here, certainly where it pertains to Saw Gerrara. This should be an interesting arc...

The episode is not without personal conflict as well. Ahsoka has to deal with feelings of jealousy as she watches a burgeoning relationship between Steela Gerrera (Saw's sister) and Lux Bonteri, who also shows up in this episode. Oh, that Lux, always popping up in the strangest places!

All things considered, this is a much stronger opening episode and story arc than season four had.



"A means to an end, fear cannot be. Stop those who spread terror, the Jedi must."

Clone Wars -- "Nomad Droids" (Ep. 4.6)

-- Who's the more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him?

[Remember, you can sign up to join the Clone Wars Project at any time by clicking this link.]

I never watched the Droids cartoon from the mid-80s, but I feel like I am now. Which may be the point with this and the previous episode. Maybe these are meant as an homage to that series. At least it's just the two episodes.

Which is not to say that this was a bad episode. For an episode centered on the droids, it was quite good, actually. It's just that with the weak start of season four, it's at the trailing end of a series of episodes that don't live up to the quality of the previous three seasons. If this episode had been used as a one-shot between more serious arcs, it could have been a welcome addition of humor.

Still, this episode did manage to make me LOL a number of times. When I say LOL, I mean that literally. Not only does this episode feel like an homage to Droids but also to The Wizard of Oz. And, maybe, Willow. The tiny fairy-like aliens on the first planet R2 and 3PO end up on reminded me a lot of the two brownies from that movie.

Speaking of which, their introduction is handled pretty well. It's very A New Hope with the jawa introduction. Oh, with some Gulliver's Travels thrown in. You know, this episode seems to be an homage to a lot of things as I think about it, and, as I think abut it, I'm appreciating what they did here. I really do wish this episode had had better placement within the series as a whole.

Anyway... What I was trying to say is that the moment when 3PO accidentally knocks R2 over onto the leader (the Wicked Witch character) of the little fairy people and squashes him like a bug made me laugh. Even though I've seen  the episode before, I had evidently forgotten that happened, because I was not expecting that happen. Then the fairies start singing the wicked witch is dead song except with slightly altered words. It was a good moment.

And that's just in the first 10 minutes or so of the episode.

Okay, I think this one is worth watching on its merit as a singular episode. I actually kind of want to go back and watch it again right now just to see if I missed any of the allusions. I'm not going to because I have other things to do, but I want to.


"Please note, whoever you are, my counterpart here is programmed in 47 schools of self defense."

Sisters (a movie review post)

There's something to be said for any movie willing to go up against Star Wars and, whatever that is, it can be said about Sisters. No, I'm not sure what it is, but I know there's something. Actually, they may have said it best with their promo explaining why they kept December 18 (henceforth known as "Star Wars Day") as their release date:


Honestly, the promo is my favorite thing about the movie, which is not to diminish the movie at all, but I think the promo is pretty darn awesome.
Not that it has anything to do with the movie itself.

So, yeah, I'm sure if there was an actual movie category called "stupid comedy" that this would be in it, but, then, so would a lot of very popular and great comedies going all the way back to the 80s. That doesn't make them not funny. And, yes, there are some things that cross the line of believability in Sisters, but that doesn't make it not funny.

And it is funny. Very much funny.
But with Tina Fey and Amy Poehler how could it not be?

There's even a little bit of message about what it is to be family.
But, mostly, it's just funny.
And a little bit painful. The music box knows what I mean.

There's not much else to say about this one.
James Brolin and Dianne Wiest were great as the parents. My kids are still teenagers, but I could totally empathize with them.
John Cena was hilarious.
Ike Barinholtz was good but a little bit distracting because he looks too much like Mark Wahlberg, and my brain kept wanting it to be Wahlberg but it wasn't, which was disconcerting.

Look, I get it. Usually these kinds of movies are full of teenagers doing dumb teenager kinds of things, but that's the point. The point that we don't ever really grow out of wanting to do those things. I guess. I mean, I never did those things, but I had friends who did, so I get it. Basically, you have to find the balance between growing up and staying a kid.

And it's funny!
Just remember to turn off the water.

Star Wars: A Discussion (Episode VII)

My first 3D movie was way back in 1983, Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone. I can't say I thought much of it. What I remember is the movie being pretty terrible and the 3D being blatant. What I mean by blatant is scenes where something comes right out at you for no other purpose than coming right out at you to show off the 3Dness of the movie. That's not always a bad thing, but it usually is. Probably the only significant thing about this movie is that it was Molly Ringwald's first "big" movie, right before Sixteen Candles. It did not make me ever want to see another movie in 3D, though.

That was a thing I pretty much succeeded at. At least, I can't think of any other 3D movies I saw through the rest of the 80s. It lasted all the way up to U2 3D, which came out in 2007 in Real 3D. The U2 concert movie was the first to use the Real 3D technology and, frankly, it was amazing. At times, it felt like you were in the arena, the show was so immersive. And that's probably about as close as I'll ever get to seeing U2 in concert, so I was glad to have seen the movie in the theater.

Of course, it was quickly followed by other movies using the technology: Journey to the Center of the Earth, Coraline, and who knows what else since 3D quickly became a "thing" and Real 3D faded into the sea of new digital 3D technology. However, I was hooked. Unlike the old red/green 3D thing, the new 3D stuff, when done well, could make you feel almost like you were in the scene.

However, it didn't take long for theaters to raise the prices on the 3D shows high enough to make them not worth it. Not when you have a family of five, at any rate. So, except for special exceptions, we don't do 3D movies anymore. One of those exceptions was the re-release of The Phantom Menace in 3D but, rather than talk about that here, I'll direct you to my review of that.

In relation to The Phantom Menace, I have to say that I was upset when Disney called a halt to the 3D conversion of the other Star Wars movies. Star Wars was made for 3D. The Force Awakens just reinforces that. So, yes, we went to see Episode VII in 3D. I think that's the first 3D movie I've seen since we saw Episode I in 3D back then in 2012. The 3D experience of Force Awakens was amazing.

It's not because there are things flying at you and being blatantly 3D in your face, either. I actually don't remember anything like that in the movie. With Force, it's all about the environment and how much more rich and interesting it becomes in 3D. The 3D actually allows you to see more of what's in the movie, like steam being released from the Falcon after it lands, than you can see on the flat surface of the 2D presentation. It was... impressive.

Which is not to say that the 3D is perfect. There are still issues when a character is in the foreground but not completely onscreen. That can give a sort of warped appearance as the character is both coming out of the screen at you and being framed in by the wall. But those instances are few. I suppose until movies are actually holographic VR presentations, there will be some issues, but The Force Awakens is the best 3D I've ever seen. Not that I've been watching much 3D but, as I said, but, still...

The short of it is that, if you have opportunity, you should check this one out in 3D. It's worth it. And I hope Disney resumes the conversion of the other five Star Wars movies into 3D. Just... well... I want to see the trench run in 3D. That would be amazing!

Star Wars: A Discussion (Episode I)

This is not a review; that will come later.

Those of you who know me at all or who have been following for a while probably know (ought to know) that I went to see The Force Awakens at the earliest possible showing. What that turned into was seeing it twice on "opening day," which was not, actually, opening day, because it was the day before opening day. Fortunately one of those showings was at 7:00 because the main thing I learned is that I am definitely getting too old for midnight shows, which the second viewing was. I also learned that my boys have nowhere near the stamina I did at their ages as both of them also struggled with the midnight viewing. Up until a few years ago, midnight shows where commonplace in my movie viewing repertoire.

All of which is, of course, beside the point other than the fact that when I said to my sons, "I'm getting too old for this sort of thing," as we were leaving the theater (at 2:30am!), they didn't get it. Yes, I was disappointed.
Anyway...

I want to provide some context for the upcoming review and the things I say about Force Awakens before I actually get to talking about that movie.

I have always said that Star Wars changed my life, and I mean that in a very literal sense. Even as a teenager looking back at my childhood, I could see the point where Star Wars came into my childhood and changed my path. Before Star Wars, everything was dinosaurs and cowboys and Indians. Everything changed when I seven. I was one person entering the theater and someone else when I came out. To again borrow the words of Ben Kenobi, I'd taken my first step into a larger world.

Star Wars never faded from my life, though it faded from the world around me. My Star Wars toys decorated my room all the way through the 80s, long after everyone had forgotten Return of the Jedi, and into the 90s just waiting for the resurgence that happened with the release of Zahn's Star Wars novels and the Dark Empire comic book series from Dark Horse in the early 90s. Needless to say, I was elated when Lucas announced the special edition versions of the movies.

And I remained elated after I saw them.

Let me be clear, I am not a part of the "Han shot first" crowd. I am from the "Han shot" era. That was it. Han shot. The whole argument over Han shooting first annoys me to no end. That being said, I have no issue with Lucas adding in the thing with Greedo shooting. It doesn't destroy my childhood or the movie or, even, damage them. I get it. Star Wars became a thing that's much bigger than Lucas ever imagined it would be and making Han a better role model for kids is something I can understand.

There was only one thing they added to the special editions that I didn't like, the scream by Luke as he dropped into the shaft in Cloud City after the duel with Vader, and they later took that back out.

And then there were the prequels...
Let's make that next post, shall we?

Fallacies of the Church (part three) -- God Rewards the Good (or The Prosperity Doctrine)

As I said last time, "God is all you need" is one of the most harmful lies of "the church." That one can be joined by the idea that God rewards people who are good, go to church, and tithe, i.e., the righteous. This is called the Prosperity Doctrine (or, actually, any number of other things). Not to get into the history of it, but, in the history of Christianity, this a brand new idea going against centuries of Christian doctrine. You know, all that stuff that says you should give the coat off your back, care for widows and orphans, and things like that.

And, hey, I get it! It's great to believe that all you need to do is go to church and toss a little bit of money in the plate and you'll get all kinds of rewards and prosperity. Pastors count on it, in fact.

As could be expected, the Prosperity Doctrine saw its big rise to prominence in the 1980s and was the foundational message of many of the big televangelists. It has also been the foundation of virtually every mega-church out there, around the world, not just in the United States. And though it has mostly grown out of non-denominational churches, Prosperity Doctrine has permeated nearly every protestant denomination there is. Oh, and Christian music is full of it.

I'm going to share with you an example from a very popular Christian band, a band I like, that is just horrible. I hate this song, and I hate it so much that I lost major respect for this band that I have liked for years. So, yes, it's a horrible song, but you should listen to it anyway -- the words, not the music -- so you'll know what I'm talking about.
That's the whole problem: It seems to make sense. You know, if God loves us, why wouldn't he want us to thrive? Why wouldn't he want us to have lives full of... well, everything that we want to have in them? Which is the context of the song, God made you to have full, rich lives, full of everything you should have to make you happy. All you need to do is praise God (and give your 10%!), and he's gonna give you ALL the STUFF!

Bullshit!

If you read the Bible, especially the New Testament, it's very easy to see that the call to Christianity is not the call to a life of ease and riches. The call to Christianity is a call to hardship. The road less traveled because it's a road that requires sacrifice. That's a hard message for people to take and was driving people away during the great rise of consumerism of the 80s. So how about a message that's all about how God wants to reward you instead?

As with most lies of "the church," all of this prosperity bullshit is based on one verse that is taken completely out of context: Malachi 3:10. It says blah blah blah bring the whole tithe to the storehouse, and I will pour so much blessing on you that you can't hold it all blah blah blah. Oh, yeah, and it says "test me on this." So, yeah, it's a challenge from God: Bring me your tithe and see if I don't just bless you beyond your ability to keep it all.

Again, it sounds great, which is why so many people buy into it, but there are so many things wrong with taking this as a personal message from God:
1. It's not a personal message from God! Not to individuals. It's a message from the prophet Malachi to the entire nation of Israel. It's a message delivered because, as was so often the case, Israel was screwing up. This is not a message intended to be used by people to get rich.
2. Tithing itself is something that has been taken out of context and shouldn't exist in the Christian church. Tithing was for the support of the professional priest system of the Israelites. The Christian church was not supposed to have professional priests, and, if you look at the first century Christian church, it did not. Professional priests got re-invented for Christianity during the formation of the Catholic church and tithing, then, was re-introduced. It was never supposed to be that way.
3. Look, I could go on, but those two are really enough; however, I'll add this:

Honestly, God just doesn't care about your personal "happiness." He's not sitting around up in Heaven somewhere thinking, "Hmm... I wonder what I can do to make Andrew happy today. Oh! I know! I'll send him a check for $10,000!" Your material life not just isn't at the top of God's to-do list, it's not on the list at all. He doesn't care.

He doesn't care if you have a big house. He doesn't care if you have a nice car. He doesn't car what kind iphone you carry. He doesn't care what kind of clothes you wear. Seriously, if God was concerned about you having these things, everyone would have these things. Why? Because no one is "good" in the eyes of God, so everyone would be rewarded the same way.

So, yes, the Prosperity Doctrine draws people in, but, ultimately, it drives almost all of those same people away. Just as soon as they realize that it doesn't work. God is not a slot machine. There is no payout. Not in cash. Not in things. Not in "happiness." There's a system in place for all of that stuff so that God doesn't have to bother with it, if that's a way to put it (which it's really not, but I don't have a better way). Just get over the idea right now that if you're good then God is going to "bless" you or make you rich or whatever.

And, if you're in a church that teaches this idea, even a watered down version of it, you should get out now. That church is concerned with the right things.

"The Call of Cthulhu" (a book review post)

More than anything else, Lovecraft is known for Cthulhu. That, in and of itself, is extremely interesting because, other than a few other mentionings of the... creature, "The Call of Cthulhu" is the only story he ever wrote about the monstrous deity from the far reaches of space. I would say it's because of the 80s RPG except that that game only came about because "Cthulhu" was already a thing. Even TSR tried to use the character as a deity of some sort in one of their D&D publications.

In fact, I think all of the popular culture reference to Cthulhu have led to a misconception about who or what Cthulhu is or was. Not that I'm going to tell you, because you should read it. Just know that Cthulhu is not just some demon from Hell. It's more complicated than that. "In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."

The story itself seems to be typical of Lovecraft's style, meaning the action happens to characters other than the protagonist, who is only researching events that have already happened. Sometimes, as in the case of "The Call of Cthulhu," this raises the tension and suspense. Why? Because, as we find out early in the story, our protagonist is expecting to be murdered, and his research into his uncle's supposed accidental death tells us why.

So here's the thing: I don't quite get why "The Call of Cthulhu" has taken on such a mythic quality. It was good, but I wouldn't say it's great. It's certainly apparent that there is a huge tapestry of mythos that this one story was pulled from and, evidently, Lovecraft had some of that worked out. Of course, I'm not very far into my reading of Lovecraft, yet (I've only read about half a dozen stories, so far), so, maybe, it's the other mentions in other stories that really build up the "legend" of Cthulhu and have made so many other people want to build on it. That said, even Lovecraft said this particular story was only "middling."

At any rate, it's certainly worth a read if, for nothing else, just to see where all the Cthulhu stuff came from. And, honestly, I think the whole cult of Cthulhu aspect is much more frightening than Cthulhu itself. Who, after all, is going to kill the protagonist? Assuming that happens, of course.

Growing Up In the Race Divide (part 5d)

[You should really go back and read the previous parts of this.]

I was scheduled to preach.

I'm only telling you this so that you'll understand the context in which all of this happened for me. See, despite that I had been working with the teenagers for... well, if you start counting at the point I began teaching (when I was a teenager)... something like eight years and specifically working with the youth group as "director" for more than four years, I had never been allowed to preach. Not in "big church," as the adult service was referred to by the youth. I'd been trying for years...

There's a whole other story here, but I'll boil it down to the fact that I wouldn't let them ordain me. I wouldn't let them ordain me for the sheer fact that I lacked respect for the whole lot of them, and I was not about to be ordained by anyone I had no respect for. I don't know if they knew that or not. I think they thought I was just stubborn and that this extended from my lack of acquiescence to being a ministerial student.

But, finally, they'd agreed to let me preach in the adult service... on a Sunday night. Because, you know, there weren't as many people there. But, still, I was going to get to preach, and I had my whole Good Samaritan sermon already worked out. [And I'm not going to go into why that was the appropriate message, at the moment.]

However, the Sunday before I was going to preach, we were scheduled to have a church meeting about the upcoming merger proposal because, yes, it had become a merger proposal. It was to be a time for the congregation to ask questions, voice opinions, and whatever else people might want to say. It was no secret at that point how I felt about the whole business, and my mother had been receiving warnings that she needed to get me to quit "mouthing off."

She, in turn, counselled me to keep my mouth shut because nothing I was going to say was going to change anything. I knew nothing I said was going to change anything, but I wasn't going to sit by and say nothing, either. What they were doing was wrong, and I wasn't going to let that go unspoken. Basically, what they were saying was, "We would rather close our doors than have to be in the same building with 'you people.'" The whole thing disgusted me. It still disgusts me, now.

The meeting was the most highly attended thing we'd had in years, probably something like 500 people. Basically, all people to show support for the merger. Sure, there were questions, but they were all self-serving questions. Things like, "Will there still be a van to pick me up on Sunday mornings?" and "Will I get to keep my same Sunday school class?" [Yes, these are questions from adults.] The pastor fielded the questions but, after the questions, anyone who wanted to speak was allowed to. And, if you wanted to speak, you had to go up to the pulpit to do it (because that's where the mic was).

Which led to my first time in the pulpit. [Now, you really have to pay attention to this to understand the richness of it.] Most of the people getting up to speak (by "most," I mean "all") were talking about all the good things that would come from the merger with the larger, older, richer (and even more white) church. Some of these people (because, remember, there were people like the little old lady in the congregation) went so far as to say how glad they were that they would not have to share a church with "the blacks," although most of them (not all) added something like, "They're okay and all, but I don't want to have church with them." [Now, why don't you just move to the back of the bus and go use that other drinking fountain, because this church is for white folks only!]

The more I listened, the angrier I got. Every time they asked if there was someone who wanted to speak, my hand went up. They avoided calling on me as long as they could. My mom leaned over at some point and said, "If you go up there, they're not going to let you preach." I didn't care. I mean, I did care but, if that was the price I had to pay, then so be it. [It occurs to me only now that the offer to preach in the first place was probably some attempt at buying my silence. But old age and treachery will beat youth and enthusiasm every time.]

Eventually, they had to let me have a turn. It's not like everyone in the church knew what was going on between the leadership and me, and this was an open forum, meaning anyone that wanted to speak got to do it. And there was my hand every time. If they didn't let me speak, there would (amazingly enough) be questions. People did, after all, know who I was. So I took my turn in the pulpit, the only time I would ever stand at the pulpit in the church I grew up in. [Well, during a service, anyway.]

I let them have it. Both barrels. All the barrels. Any barrel I could find. It was definitely what you would call "righteous anger." Unfortunately, I don't really remember exactly what I said. I pointed out, though, how I had grown a youth group from, basically, nothing into being something living and growing from the neighborhood around the church, and I told them how ashamed they ought to be of themselves for just abandoning people. And, this part I do remember if not in exactly the right words, I told them they should be ashamed of themselves for just sitting on their butts for more than a decade because they would rather the church withered and die than reach out into the neighborhood around the church.

There was complete silence when I was finished. I walked back down to my seat and sat down and, still, no one said anything. For minutes. Everyone stared at me, and I just glared back. The meeting wrapped up not long after that. I suppose I was a bit of a hard act to follow.

The call was almost immediate. As immediate as it could be, anyway. Within a couple of hours of me getting home. [Remember how I said to pay attention?] Officially, the reason they gave me for telling me that I wasn't going to get to preach was that I said the word "butt" while in the pulpit, and that was completely inappropriate. I mean, if I would say the word "butt" while in the pulpit, there's no telling what I might say.

Aside:
The pastor we had throughout the 80s used to say "peckerwood" from the pulpit all the time. When I was a kid, I didn't know what it meant; I just knew it was derogatory. Also, every so often, he'd say "dickhead."

But I couldn't preach because I had said "butt." I'm fairly certain that I am not the first person to have said that from that very pulpit, though I can't point to a specific instance. I just find it hard to believe.

Sometimes, in even the most serious of situations, there are those things that are so ludicrous all you can do is laugh. And that's what I did. Not while I was on the phone (with the head of the deacons); no, on the phone I just shrugged it off with an "okay." After I hung up, I laughed. And I laughed more when I told my mom. She was all concerned, "I did warn you." She didn't understand that I really didn't care at that point. Why would I want to be involved with people as petty as that?

A few weeks later, there was a meeting for the vote. It was anonymous, which was ridiculous, except that very few people that weren't me would have been brave enough to raise their hands on a "no" vote. Not that it mattered. Even blind, there were less than 10 votes against the merger.

Don't worry. It gets worse.

Kids' Clothes Were Never This Cool

Have you seen the clothes they make for kids these days? They're amazing. Kids' clothes were never this cool when I was a kid. It was all like tiny grownup clothes. I mean, they didn't even have Star Wars t-shirts! Well, okay, they did, but it was only every once in a while. And they were made with those big iron decals, basically, so, once you wore it about three times, the image was all cracked and peeling off. Well, not when you wore it; once it was washed a few times, it looked like it really came from a long time ago from a galaxy far, far away. Of course, the answer to that was to never wash it. Right?

One of my friends... Hold on; let me really emphasize that: ONE of my friends had a Star Wars shirt with R2 and C-3PO on it. He was the envy of every boy in our class. I was in my 20s before I had my own Star Wars t-shirt. Unless you count Underoos. Yeah, that was about as cool as it got when I was a kid. You could get underwear with stuff on it but not actual clothes. I had the Boba Fett Underoos

which were cool if you wanted to run around the house pretending to be Boba Fett (a Boba Fett with no pants), but you couldn't really wear the shirt out in public without every other person asking you what was on your shirt. Saying "a chest plate" really didn't help. Yes, I know.
I also had the Yoda Underoos

which were better, because you could wear that shirt out in public. Even if someone didn't know who he was, you could just say, "He's Yoda. He's from Star Wars."

When I was a kid, you couldn't even get band t-shirts (not that I wanted any) unless you actually went to the concert and bought them! It wasn't really until the late 80s and U2 that you could actually go to a store and buy a band t-shirt. Other than Spencer's, I mean. You could get that stuff in there, but I wasn't allowed in that place. Regular department stores and clothing stores had regular clothes, and that was it. Cool was not allowed.

All of that has changed now. Pop culture is everywhere. Any brand of cool you can think of, you can find. And you can find it virtually anywhere.

So, yeah, I've been back-to-school shopping with my kids, and it's always envy-making. Well, clothes shopping in general with my kids is envy-making. Even with my daughter. Not that I want all the pink, sparkly stuff she has, but they have cool Star Wars clothes for her, too! She's got the one shirt with... wait, I'll show you!

I love that shirt! And she even picked it out. I'm not sure what that says about how she thinks about me, but I don't think I really care. And clothes shopping with my daughter always makes my wife depressed. She's always, "I want one of those," or, "I want those colors," but they don't make that kind of stuff for adults.

I just have to say: These days, kids have it good.

And it's not just with clothes; it's with books, too. When I was in middle school, there were no books being written for kids my age. Or, well, there were, but they were all romances aimed at girls. The "YA" section (or whatever they called it then) didn't even get a full-sized bookcase. The entire section was located on one side of a bookcase that was only waist high. And it was all romance like Sweet Valley High, which had just come out. Things like The Chronicles of Narnia were stocked in the sci-fi/fantasy section because Harry Potter was still more than a decade away and the idea that you could actually write mature(ish) books aimed at teens and young teens was still a foreign concept.

I'm not even going to talk about Lego. Because, oh my gosh, THAT is just so unfair.

Anyway...
Kids have it good. And they don't appreciate it.
But, then, what kids ever do?

Singin' in the Rain: My Kind of Musical (a musical review)

A few weeks ago, I did this post about musicals, which was at least partly inspired by the great musical film Singin' in the Rain. Singin' in the Rain is my kind of musical. Which is to say that it's not the kind of musical where a huge crowd of people suddenly bursts into song and starts doing a dance routine, which is the thing about musicals I've never been able to get into.

Singin' in the Rain does its music on a much smaller scale, a personal scale, which I really enjoy. Its eponymous song is just Gene Kelly and is completely appropriate to the nature of, well, everything. If you've ever been in love, you'll understand.




My kids' favorite song, "Make 'Em Laugh," is another of those that just feels appropriate to the action of the movie.

Both songs are the kinds of things people, real people, really do. And I like that. All of the musical numbers are like that.

Speaking of "Make 'Em Laugh," Donald O'Connor is wonderful. Completely amazing. So much so that I had to rent some of the Francis, the Talking Mule movies for my kids, so they could see him in some other movies. They preferred Singin' in the Rain, which kind of surprised me, because I loved the Francis movies when I was a kid. All of the performances are great, though, not just O'Connor's.

And we thought breakdancing was something from the '80s.

Here's the other thing about Singin' in the Rain: If you've seen it, you don't need to bother to see The Artist. Both movies are about silent film stars making the transition to "talkies," but Singin' is so much more charming in its approach and, overall, just a much better film. Really, there was no need for a movie like The Artist with Singin' already out there.

For those of you out there who "don't like musicals," you should give this one a look, anyway. There's a real story, here, that's well-told. The acting is strong. The music is well integrated and classic. It's unfortunate that the movie is "old" and not noticed much anymore, because it's quite an excellent film.

Abandoned Places: The Farwell Building

Finished in 1915, the Farwell Building is one of Detroit's most architecturally significant buildings. Unfortunately, in an attempt to modernize the building in the 1950s, much of the beauty and craftsmanship of the building was covered up or removed. Then, after a fire which started in the ground-floor restaurant in the mid-70s, the main Tiffany chandelier was stolen. It still managed to become registered as both a state and national historic landmark, though. Despite its status, by the 80s, it was struggling to retain tenants, and permanently closed its doors in 1984, leaving it as easy prey for vandals and thieves. Talks of renovation have so far proved to be nothing more than talk.

The last photos are credited to David Kohrman.

As an added bonus, here are some photos of Forest Haven, an abandoned children's hospital in Maryland.

Photos credited to Studio Tempura [Flickr/zero101] and Jack in DC [Flickr/jbparrott] under the linked Creative Commons license.

Dystopian Marketing

I have made no secret of my dislike of the whole "dystopian" thing in popular culture these days. Much of my dislike springs from the fact that it, mostly, is not actually dystopian but post-apocalyptic, and I got over the whole post-apocalyptic thing back in the 80s. Names mean something to me, which is part of the reason I never liked Tim Burton's Joker movie. What? You're telling me that Burton never made a Joker movie? Sure, he did; he called it Batman. I walked out of that movie completely dissatisfied and the first comment I made to friends that I saw it with was, "I might have liked it if they'd called it The Joker." [I'm not just giving an opinion here. If you watch any of the interviews with Burton at the time, he says repeatedly that the movie was focused on the Joker. That's the character he found interesting. He could really have cared less about Batman.]

Anyway, if you want to know more about my whole thing with dystopians and calling things what they are, hop over to Indie Writers Monthly and read the post.

Now, I have a question. Last month, I did a little experiment focused on getting reviews. Mostly, that didn't work out. I did get one review from it, so it wasn't a total failure, but one is hardly what I'd call successful, either. However, I did get some sales from the push for reviews. So here's the question: What is it that makes you go from thinking you might want to read a particular book some day to actually buying that book in preparation for reading it? I know what it is for me (sort of), but I don't think, at this point in my life, that I'm a good example of how people buy books. Then there's that it seems to work to some extent (no matter how much I don't like doing it) when I say, "Hey, buy my book! please" And I do know that I don't do that "enough," at least, not according to all of those marketing people who say you ought to have such and such a ratio of self-promotion to other stuff. I tend to, um, not self promote at all.

So, yes, specifically, I'm looking to find out what it would take those of you out there who have been thinking about buying one of my writing things to move from the "thinking about it" side of things to the "doing it" side of things, but I'm assuming that it's the same process for my stuff as for any other books. So let me know:

What's the thing that pushes you over the edge from just thinking about buying a book to actually buying the book. Aside from how it might benefit me, I am curious. Let's call it a data study.

And don't forget, after you answer that question, here, hop over to Indie Writers Monthly and read all about the "dystopian thing"!

Dallas Buyers Club (a movie review post)

I heard this interview with Matthew McConaughey on NPR a while back about how his family lost a lawsuit because he won the most attractive award (or some such) his senior year of high school. [It's an amusing story about his early high school issues with acne.] You would never be able to tell that from the way he looks in Dallas Buyers Club.

Seriously, McConaughey looks awful, and that's saying a lot considering who he is. He looks like he's wasting away, which is appropriate to the character of Ron Woodroof, who is dying of AIDS.

In the 80s, when I grew up, we were going to die of one of two things:
1. "Russia" (in quotes because it wasn't really Russia; it was the USSR) was going to destroy the world in nuclear fire (or a computer mistake was. It was probably 50/50 which direction that would go).
2. We were all going to die of "the AIDS."

Dallas Buyers Club completely captures the horror of discovering having HIV in the 80s and the prejudice that went with it. [Like when I was in middle school and all of my friends told me (completely seriously) that I was going to die because I sat in the same chair as someone with AIDS that had visited our classroom.] McConaughey is absolutely brilliant. The wail he releases in his car once he has actually confronted what's going on is... I have no other word than chilling.

Seriously, I have never thought much of McConaughey other than that he's mostly a pretty boy that can memorize lines. He's never stood out to me as more than someone with a charming smile, but, in this, he is amazing. His willingness to destroy his body for the part rivals anything Christian Bale has ever done, and he brings a stellar performance along with it. If he doesn't get best actor for this role, it will be a huge injustice.

Jared Leto's performance is also incredible as the fictional conglomeration character Rayon. The relationship between Woodroof and Rayon is demonstrative of Woodroof's changing views as he formed relationships in the community suffering from the same fate as he.

AIDS and the fear of AIDS doesn't carry with it the same weight as it used to, and I don't think people growing up in the 90s and later have the same understanding of HIV as people who went through the 80s when it suddenly became an epidemic. Safe sex has become normative, at least, the idea of it has. Prior to the 80s and HIV, the idea of using "protection" during sex was mostly to prevent unwanted pregnancies. At least, that's my perception of it.

At any rate, Dallas Buyers Club is a powerful movie, the most powerful movie I've seen in a long time, and I highly recommend it. It might be the best movie of the year, but I don't think it will get the Oscar for it.