This space, that space, they keep looking at me.
And I keep not writing anything.
I want to.
I have thoughts,
Things I want to say.
The longer I go without writing things down,
The harder it is to put things down.
And then it takes longer to put things down
And then it gets harder.
And the cycle continues.
Ands nothing gets out and nothing gets put down and one day we’ll talk about why there are never any people in my photographs…
You know how I know I’m not like the rest of you?
This right here…
When I watched that for the first time, I was just a kid, maybe 4 or 5 or 6 or 7.
It took me about as long as it takes Bambi to work out what just happened in that scene. I’d actually had to read what his father says to him, because for some reason I could never understand the voice. He speaks so soft and so low, that I’d never actually understood what he said when I was a kid. I got a copy of the script, or someone transcribed it in a book or something. I got the point of what he was saying though, Bambi’s momma had been got by those hunters. Hunters, incidentally, that would have been fucking HATED even by other hunters. You don’t shoot at a doe with a fawn… you just don’t.
When I worked out that the Corleone Family had taken a contract out on Bambi’s Mom and got Joe Pecsi to do her it, I wasn’t sad like everyone else. I’m serious, I’ve got the only dry eyes in house while an entire theater is crying like one big collective bitch.
I wasn’t sad though, I was impressed. I was seriously sitting there going “They killed his mom, they actually killed his mom. She’s not going to show up later with a limp and the remains of a plaid shirt in her teeth to show she got him in the end. She is just dead.”
I would like, for a moment, to remind you about GI Joe. In GI Joe, when a plane was blown up, they showed a guy parachuting away. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.* I noticed it during the first mini-series and once unseen I couldn’t unsee it. No one ever died in cartoons, not ever**. Then Bambi’s mom got it and I was aware by that time that no one ever died in a cartoon and it sort of blew my world. Later, Optimus Prime died and I realized that there was no such thing as invulnerable. It was an amazing thing, to know someone died. We didn’t see it, it’s not immediately apparent, but it was a thing and she died.
Only later did I discover that this is considered one of the most traumatic things that ever happened to anyone in the history of ever. I’d never thought ot it as a particularly sad or traumatic moment, but I know that there are people reading this, snotting into tear soaked hankies, demanding I just shut up because they can’t it anymore. This still sort of mystifies me, while I understand, I don’t fully get the emotional weight people give this moment.
I’m more interested in the fire, or in the discovery of Flower, or the amazingly fantastic art used in the movie.
*Don’t even get me started on the movie.
**The evil queen in Snow White not withstanding, but she was old and ugly when they whacked her, so it was okay.
I have a friend who occasionally marvels at the fact that we are in fact, friends. She really liked The Lord of The Rings movies, and I hated how Peter Jackson raped Tolkien’s corpse on screen during Return of The King (in the back, during Legolas’s Mario Moment on the Oliphaunts, you can just see it). While I love a good Kurosawa movie, she mostly liked that I liked Yojimbo, rather than liking it for itself. She was a big fan of Game of Thrones and as you remember, I found it misogynist, overly rapey and despite what some people had told me, about as historically accurate as a Mr. Peabody cartoon. Also, too many characters suffer from To Build a Fire Syndrome, but that’s not important right now! She really didn’t like Sherlock Holmes either, but I love her anyway.
We also don’t agree on what makes good music. She favors things from the more industrial period of the 90s, while I’ve been known to spend a whole day listening to jazz and Celtic music. We don’t actually spit on each other’s choices of music, but we tend to be attracted to different kinds. I think we might find common ground on Jack Off Jill, but I’ve never really discussed it with her. At some point, I probably should.
That’s not the point though. The point is that we’re still friends, despite all these differences. We do have some overlaps in our interests, but there have been times when this friend has asked how she and I can be such good friends when we never seem to agree on anything. She hasn’t asked that in several years though, so either she understands how we can be friends, or she no longer cares. It did seem to bother her for a while though, particularly since she understands that art was one of only three things I actually think are important enough to take seriously. Of course, the fact that she also understood fine art helped. It’s nice that someone can sort of understand that I have a love of both Bruegel and Bosch along with Mondrian and Rothko, while kinda hating Picasso. And besides, anyone who can shoot down my joke about The Nut Gatherers and is able to look at that painting without seeing the inherent lesbianism is someone able to be my Best BFF Forever. Yes, I know, that was the joke!
So where am I going with this? No, really, where was I going? I have totally forgotten.
OH YES! I remember now… The point of that long ramble was that some six or seven years after we first met, we are still close friends. We have shared some music back and forth on occasion, we have traded some movies and even some books, but mostly we just spent time together. We’re both pretty good at listening, and at talking. We tell each other things, we enjoy one another’s company, we are friends. Despite all the interests in other things, we’re pals.
Syd and I have almost no reading material in common. Of all the hundreds of books Syd reads in a year, not one of them are ever written by Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, or even Rex Stout. How does a person go around not reading Rex Stout? SRSLY! As retaliation, I don’t read any oh her books about girls with psychic connections to talking horses. And yet, we’ve been together for… I dunno, 15 years? That sounds close. No! Wait! It’s got to be 18 years. 1994-2012, that’s 18, right?
In here, we start to get in on our main point. I don’t need to like the things you like, nor do you need to like the things I like, for us to get along. We can get along without having to agree on music or paintings, or even TV shows. In fact, as the only two shows I watch with any regularity are Good Eats and Mystery Science Theater 3000, it’s probably for the best if we leave TV out of this. We don’t have to agree on movies, or food, or books, so long as we agree on being able to stand one another for more than seventeen minutes, then we can get along.
That’s how it is for me anyway. I got used to the fact that no one, not even nerds, would ever be into all the things I’m into. It’s just not ever gonna happen. Even if I did one day find a fellow Nero Wolfe fan, they would probably not share my love of cheap horror films. When I find that Cheap Cinema fan I’ve been looking for, she won’t be able to understand my physical need to sit around and watch movies where Japanese people in period dress stand around and talk at each other, sometimes for up to three hours at a time without taking out those swords and killing each other. And so on, and so forth, and it goes on like this too.
Thing is, that’s a good thing in my mind. Yes, there is more here though, than simply accepting that nobody likes the things I like. There is actually elation to be had here. If you’re not into the things I like, there is a possibility that you’ve never tried them. Actually, in my case, there is the distinct probability you’ve never tried at least three of the things I list as my ten favorites. Most people have never listened to Blues Traveler, Prince, Acoustic Alchemy AND Nightnoise. I’ll find something new to you and give you an album to listen to. Just as likely, no matter how wide my musical net has been cast, no matter how many things I’ve heard, there is very likely some band you like that I’ve never been exposed to. I’ve been listening to Alesana lately, because a young friend gave me a couple of their CDs. I’m not going to become their biggest fan, in fact I should be waving my cane and demanding they get offa mah lahn, but I can admit that there is something there. These young troubadours are not entirely without merit.
I like being introduced to new and interesting things, and I like being able to share interests with people. One of the nice things about having a friend who is into, for example, French Action Films, is that they can tell you which ones to watch. They can also tell you which ones best exemplify the genre, which ones to avoid, and which ones are the best even though they’re transgressive. Often, the best movies in a genre are the ones that transgress the rules. If you’ve never listen to Punk, a pal who knows which bands rock the hardest can be a great guide.
The other part of this though, is that even if I don’t actually like your music, choice of movie, or books, I can still like to watch you enjoying them. There are few joys so great as watching someone’s eyes light up when they talk about their favorite band/movie/book/work of art. Particularly if you’re interested in pursuing a relationship with that person, you can tell pretty quickly if you’re going to like them depending on how they talk about such a thing. If you want to know what reaction to have, I love excitement and delight over superiority and hipsterness. The reason I gave Alesana a chance was that the girl in question was so dazzled by her love for this band that I figured I just HAD to see what the fuss was about. Her enthusiasm carried me along far enough to give them a fair shake. After all, even if you’re hating the band, you can like just being with the person who enjoys it. You can even start to see the merit in the thing that brings your friend such pleasure. This is about me liking you, being with you, wanting to see you happy. If I really love you, and of course I do, then my main interest will be wanting to see you enjoy yourself. That will often turn the tide, and bring me at least an appreciation of this thing I don’t get right now.
tl,dr – Sometimes, you really can love something enough for both of us.
Last week, Syd and I saw
Sam and Max Star Wars – Episode One: The Phantom Hourglass Menace in 3D!
So here’s the thing…
The 3d looked nice, probably the best post converted 3D you’re going to see, but it added very little to the whole thing. That was my feeling anyway.
BUT… Okay here’s the thing.
We got the Star Wars saga on Bluray for VEWPRF. I asked for it because while I wanted it, I didn’t want it to be my fault that we owned it.
Syd and I watched Ep 1 and came to the conclusion that the movie just does not hold up. It’s too slow, the dialogue sucks, it was easy to fall into MSTing the movie. Jar Jar is annoying (but less so than the waves of fanboys who bitched about him for 10 fucking years solid) and I still expect to have a Jam Handy movie break out when Anakin asked “I’ve been wondering, what are midichlorians?”
So we’ve got that right?
Only… so… like… the movie WORKED for me this time. It worked in a way that it didn’t work the first time I saw it.
Maybe it was the years of getting used to it, maybe it was the 3D, maybe it was the big screen, maybe it was being sat between 30-40something losers on my right and 8-12 year olds on my left and preferring the latter group’s reaction, but I was able to leave all the BS behind and just enjoy the movie. For a movie that is so clearly crap, that’s a big accomplishment. Maybe the 3D played a bigger roll that anyone wants to admit. I don’t know, I just know that at the end I turned to Syd, much like I had three weeks earlier and said “It works a lot better on the big screen than it does in our living room.”
So yeah, I enjoyed it. The kids sitting next to us, who might have been seeing it for the first time, they enjoyed it. I have no idea if the geeks on the right enjoyed it, I sort of blocked them out because of their constant whining that this one doesn’t have Portman’s nipples erect against her white shirt.
I liked it, and now I have to wait a year to watch Ep 2 The Wrath of Khan in 3D.
I finished The Last Swordship yesterday, but it was a struggle. Hard to read subtitles and a story that was cliche as hell. I guessed who the mystery baddie was the first time I saw them on screen.
So today, before I leave for work, I’m watching the Hammer version of The Mummy. So far, it’s much better.
Today I watch The Lost Sword Ship.
I’m hoping the 93 minutes fil;m goes faster than Spartacus did. I’d sort of forgotten that Spartacus ends about 30 minutes before the movie stops running. Epics are always a problem though, and one day, when I get back to writing reviews, I’ll explain why.
For now, I’ll watch this thing.
I can already tell you, it’s gonna be tough. Burned in subtitles and it looks like the edges have been cut off, loosing words on each side.
I have a lot of DVDS that I haven’t watched. I have decided it’s time to do something about that. I’ll watch at least one disc a day, until I’ve got them all watched. More or less, I may skip special features and I’ll stop watching if a movie or show sucks. I’ll also skip stuff of Syd’s that I have no interest in.
I don’t know why I’ve never watched it, I just haven’t. I’ll let you know how it goes.
I’ve been wonder if there are movies thaty would fail a gender reversed Bechdel Test. You remember that right? From Dykes to Watch Out For? Here is the comic that started it. According to bechdetest.com the way to pass a traditional test is to have three items. 1. It has to have at least two women in it 2. Who talk to each other 3. About something besides a man. That site also grades many movies and gives partial credit to those who meet a few of those options. It’s pretty shocking how few movies pass this test in any way.
What I’ve been wondering though is how many movies don’t have a man in them at all. How many have only one man? How many that have two or more men have them only talking about a woman? The point here is to find movies that fail the test rather than pass it. Or perhaps to say the only way to really pass a reverse Bechdel is to have only women. I can’t think of any woman only (or only one man) movies off the top of my head. So what about men only talking about a woman?
I’m looking over my collection and I’m not finding much that even gets two men only talking about a woman. I’ve got a lot of movies too, a lot of little independent movies.
Kill Bill almost counts, but a few small scenes kill it. In the wedding rehearsal the preachers talks to most the men about the rehearsal, after the balloon goes up the cop and his son talk about the massacre before getting onto the subject of The Bride. The only men in Better Than Chocolate never speak to each other as far as I remember. I’m not sure if Josie and the Pussycats would pass. I would say I could watch it and find out, but that would mean watching Josie and the Pussycats again.
If anyone knows of a movie that even comes close to passing let me know.
Just to remind you, to pass a Reverse Bechdel you’d need to find a movie
1. Where two men only talk about a woman (or don’t talk to each other at all)
2. A movie with only one man
OR for full points
3. A movie with no men in it.