This evening wins a very small and very silly prize for drama. I realized at 5:03 that the $5 movie theatre down the street started a round of movies at around 5:00 so I jetted from my place of work at 5:04 and dashed into the theatre at 5:19 just in time to enjoy five minutes of silence before Conan the Barbarian started. Well, to say it with a more hearty and satisfying grain of truth, five minutes of silence before the 20 minutes of previews started.
The Previews
This particular venue is not only desperately quiet before the movie but also pounds down the previews like an addict at a Methadone clinic. Tonight’s total was six and started with “Red Tails” which seems to be following on the coattails of other war movies featuring under-appreciated units made up entirely of minorities. This time it’s WWII African-American fighter pilots. I can’t resist a war movie of any type so it’ll probably have my $5 when the time comes. Next we had “Ghost Rider” a movie with such a twisted and confusing preview that I’m not sure if the self-immolating skull-faced dude is a hero or a villain. We have established, however, based on the preview alone that if you take a whizz while you’re on fire it does hurt. (No, I’m not just making that up to be funny.) “Immortals” seems to be a standard epic adventure mythology flick. The new hero of the week seems to be Theseus and he’s going to save the world or destroy it or something similarly stimulating. Next up was “Drive” which seems to be one of your typical plotless thug movies. Somebody beats up somebody else to get something. Yadda, yadda, yadda. There’s also a new Sherlock Holmes movie coming out it seems making ready to make me spout profanity as I leave the theatre about how completely they’ve destroyed the spirit of the original Conan Doyle genre. And lastly, “Warrior” is apparently one of those stories about a war vet who comes home, doesn’t have any money and decides to become a UFC fight champion to make money to save the house or farm or pay for grandma’s operation. Whichever it is the preview, was nice enough to give away the climax in which the guy has to fight his own brother in the finals. What a devious twist! Pity they told me that BEFORE I gave them the $5.
The Movie
So now after 20 minutes we get down to the movie which, as you will no doubt be unsurprised to learn, is your standard adventure slash-em up western-but-with swords bit. People with impossibly white teeth (and some with no eyebrows) fight each other, heal impossibly fast and fall from impossible heights without any harm whatsoever. Easy enough.
Excessively high level summaries aside, just take the Lord of the Rings and replace it with a weird squiggly, tentacle mask and you’ve about got it. In the beginning (ages and ages ago), evil necromancers (what’s any movie without necromancers, after all) created a terrible mask that they wished to use to enslave the whole world. Well, the barbarian tribes got wind of this and so they united and had a huge and terrible war. As a result they destroyed the mask and broke it into a dozen pieces that they scattered through the world under the protection of the tribes. That takes you up through about the opening credits.
Ages go by and people are still fighting about things but not always about the latest in fashion headgear. In one of these petty squabbles, Conan’s mother, herself a great warrior, is grievously wounded. With her last dying words, the pregnant woman gasps, “I want to see my baby before I die!” so in what I can only describe as the clumsiest C-section ever, Conan’s father plunges his sword into his wife’s abdomen without even looking down and within seconds has produced the instantly wailing infant. Conan’s mother quickly expires from the botched surgery while his father wails his grief that he didn’t pay more attention in nursing school.
More years go by and Conan (that’s pronounced COnan like Conan O’Brien, btw, not coNAN like that OTHER barbarian) grows into a boy. He wants to be a warrior so he and the other children his age are set a challenge. They must take an egg in their mouths and run around some mountain and the first one back without breaking the egg gets to be a warrior. So the boys run out some distance, then stop to beat the shit out of one another and break everyone else’s eggs when suddenly they’re attacked by a band of 7 or 8 large brutal-looking men twice their size. The other boys, of course, wisely run away but Conan wades in and decapitates the whole lot of bandits. In dramatic fashion, Conan arrives back at the village carrying the warrior’s heads and casually spits his unbroken egg on the ground. It’s at about this point that we’re supposed to believe he’s quite a bad-ass.
Well, as you might expect, not long after, some new evil dude decides he’s going to do the Blues Brothers thing and “put the mask back together.” He arrives at Conan’s village having gotten all but the last piece. Evil dude’s armies descend on Conan’s village (which has managed to field quite a sizeable fighting force considering it’s just a tiny village) and bloodshed ensues. It is at about this point that the movie engages in one of my personal movie pet peeves. Either through some complete failure in logic or a flaw in the editing process, evil dude sends in his horsemen, then he sends in his footmen and THEN he lets the town have it with the archers. It is just this sort of disregard for basic military protocol that makes the infantry cut all the archer’s bowstrings the night before a big fight. Evil dude’s footmen don’t want arrows in their backs either. Anyway, long story short, evil dude gets the last piece of the mask, Conan’s dad gets melted to death by a small vat of molten steel that seems to just stay hot FOREVER and evil dude escapes. Conan, however does too but not before he manages to cut the nose off of one of evil dude’s cohorts.
So flash forward several more years and Conan has buffed up into quite the justice-dealing hunk of man meat. We find him first fighting to free a colony of slaves by rolling boulders down from the mountains onto the camp. Doubtless he’d forgotten that groups of slaves chained together or in cages tend to suffer more from falling rocks than guards who can move about more freely, but his heart is in the right place. Conan and his merry band go on to free the slaves including several dozen topless women who remain topless for several minutes as they carouse in celebration. It’s not exactly clear WHY any of them are topless but it’ll certainly make the television edit of the movie shorter.
Conan now starts to pick up clues about the man who killed his father all those years ago. He tracks down one after another without any really notable results except when he finds the man whose nose he cut off as a boy. By now the guy’s wearing a leather face-bra to protect the hole in his face and when Conan finds him he takes the opportunity to shove his finger into the hole until an unpleasantness ensues. Apparently it’s not fatal unpleasantness, however, since Conan has a more brutal method of execution in mind for him. Mr. no-nose runs a slave community so Conan forces him to swallow the key to the front gates and then pushes him out amongst his slaves to be thoroughly “searched” for the key.
Alright, my patience with this movie nearly exhausted, we move into really fast-forward mode. Conan finally finds evil dude and his daughter (a witch). They have the standard cliché fights: fight in an impossible physical situation (this time on a large rotating wheel), fights involving two swords each, a fight between Conan and some sand djinns summoned by the witchy daughter, fight with a monster in a dungeon with a bunch of tentacles. Between fights, Conan manages to schtoop the pretty girl and say those magical words: “I live, I love, and I slay. I am content.”
All in all, it was exactly what you would expect. Excessive gore and insufficient plot but I will say that it had my attention. It was, of course, entirely and utterly predictable but it did have moments of amusement. The eye candy factor was fairly high and on that account I give it a five out of ten. It’s a movie that I will very soon forget, but it’s one that I paid five dollars for and you can’t take that away from it.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Movies: Alfred Hitchcock’s : “Easy Virtue” – 1928 [silent]
It’s been an entire day since I resolved to watch and review all the Hitchcock films and I’ll admit that his 1928 silent film was an initial challenge to my resolve. In this day and age of HD video and theatre-quality sound, watching a film with no real audio takes a surprising amount of concentration. As if that isn’t enough, it’s even clearer how far we’ve come in the intervening century when you can’t help but notice that even the edges of the screen fade in and out of view because the illumination is inconsistent. Quite a bit is left to the imagination and in some ways, that’s a good thing. In other ways, watching a movie at 11pm that requires this much concentration is just asking for trouble.
The plot synopsis is fairly standard, though it reveals a sensibility that we would today find boggling. Larita Filton is in the midst of a divorce from her drunkard husband and at the same time ensnarled in a bit of impropriety with a painter (Claude) who has been commissioned to do her portrait. Larita does finally escape her marriage but her honor and reputation is sullied forever when she’s “found guilty of misconduct” with Claude. Her reputation in tatters, she escapes to the French Riviera. There she meets John who falls desperately and almost immediately in love with her. Larita keeps mum about her past and only John’s mother suspects that something might not be on the up-and-up. The couple are quickly married but not shortly after, the meddling mom finds a picture of Larita in the paper and the connection with her scandalous past is made. Remaining married is, of course, unthinkable and Larita steps aside so that John can divorce with his honor intact.
Despite the lack of actual audible dialog, the movie doesn’t suffer from a vacuum of memorable quotes. Early on, the love interest, Claude, writes Larita a love note and it’s as sappy and as generic as could be possibly imagined:
Near the end, the Larita spars with John’s mother in a manner so standard between generations that it’s almost cliché:
Larita’s position is summed up quite nicely by her closing line: “Shoot, there’s nothing left to kill!” Her virtue lost, her prospects dim, there is nothing else for her to live for. Sensibilities have certainly changed, haven’t they?
Visually, there are a few interesting moments as well. During some of Larita’s time in the Riviera she takes in a few sporting events and it occurred to me as I watched (somewhat bored, honestly) that audiences of the time might very well have been fascinated by the prospect of watching filmed sport. With the cinema still a relatively new and novel art, things we find mundane today would doubtless have been viewed with breathless wonder. Also, earlier on, John anticipates the response to his proposal from Larita by phone and we’re treated to an extended segment of the telephone operator connecting their call and then reacting as she listens in on their conversation. These are images of a day long, long past.
To close, while I’ll admit that I didn’t find much Hitchcock in “Easy Virtue” I did find plenty of 1928 which is almost as good. While these bygone relics don’t entertain in the way that modern movies do, they do act to make us think and help us to know where society has gone before. Whether these changes are progress or regress is left as an exercise to the viewer.
The plot synopsis is fairly standard, though it reveals a sensibility that we would today find boggling. Larita Filton is in the midst of a divorce from her drunkard husband and at the same time ensnarled in a bit of impropriety with a painter (Claude) who has been commissioned to do her portrait. Larita does finally escape her marriage but her honor and reputation is sullied forever when she’s “found guilty of misconduct” with Claude. Her reputation in tatters, she escapes to the French Riviera. There she meets John who falls desperately and almost immediately in love with her. Larita keeps mum about her past and only John’s mother suspects that something might not be on the up-and-up. The couple are quickly married but not shortly after, the meddling mom finds a picture of Larita in the paper and the connection with her scandalous past is made. Remaining married is, of course, unthinkable and Larita steps aside so that John can divorce with his honor intact.
Despite the lack of actual audible dialog, the movie doesn’t suffer from a vacuum of memorable quotes. Early on, the love interest, Claude, writes Larita a love note and it’s as sappy and as generic as could be possibly imagined:
Darling,
Why suffer that foul brute when you know I’d give anything I have in the world to make you happy?
--Claude
Near the end, the Larita spars with John’s mother in a manner so standard between generations that it’s almost cliché:
Mother: In our world we do not understand this code of Easy Virtue
Larita: In your world you understand very little of anything
Larita’s position is summed up quite nicely by her closing line: “Shoot, there’s nothing left to kill!” Her virtue lost, her prospects dim, there is nothing else for her to live for. Sensibilities have certainly changed, haven’t they?
Visually, there are a few interesting moments as well. During some of Larita’s time in the Riviera she takes in a few sporting events and it occurred to me as I watched (somewhat bored, honestly) that audiences of the time might very well have been fascinated by the prospect of watching filmed sport. With the cinema still a relatively new and novel art, things we find mundane today would doubtless have been viewed with breathless wonder. Also, earlier on, John anticipates the response to his proposal from Larita by phone and we’re treated to an extended segment of the telephone operator connecting their call and then reacting as she listens in on their conversation. These are images of a day long, long past.
To close, while I’ll admit that I didn’t find much Hitchcock in “Easy Virtue” I did find plenty of 1928 which is almost as good. While these bygone relics don’t entertain in the way that modern movies do, they do act to make us think and help us to know where society has gone before. Whether these changes are progress or regress is left as an exercise to the viewer.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Movies - Fright Night - 2011
Today’s ‘next available movie’ was Fright Night. I will admit that going in I was expecting an utterly mindless slasher flick. When it was over, I’d watched a nearly mindless slasher flick but it had its up sides. This trip was my first to the newly restyled theatre at Michigan road and 86th redubbed “The Movie Buff Theater.” I’m not sure I see any real elements of movie buffness in evidence but it was at least semi-clean and utterly quiet. When I questioned the cashier about the utter desolation she acted as if she had no idea what I was talking about. Apparently such things are typical. I should also say that I went into this movie with absolutely no foreknowledge. I’d heard of it from movie listings but hadn’t seen a preview or in fact heard any word that I remembered so I was utterly clueless at the onset.
The Previews
The Movie Buff theatre is certainly no frills in that before the movie starts there is… silence, utter and complete. Awaiting a movie which ones assumes to be suspenseful it does create a certain amount of tension. It’s unclear whether the movie will fade in gradually or crash into presence on the screen like a semi-truck full of cymbals getting into a wreck on the interstate. When finally the previews did begin, they certainly didn’t skimp. For the third time I saw a preview for the “50/50” movie. Long story short, guy is diagnosed with cancer lives out the last days of his life… maybe? I’d say it qualifies for the list of movies not to avoid like the plague but it would be one to take a date to. (A date who doesn’t mind occasional scribbling in a notebook.) Next up was “The Woman in Black” a very gothic-looking horror movie about a gent trapped in an isolated and apparently haunted house. I’d say that one deserves an intentional look though it’s not for the easily creeped out. The sci-fi movie “In Time” has a title that doesn’t really do it justice and I think it’ll eventually suffer for that defect. This futuristic yarn is at heart a crime drama but with the twist that in the future the only real currency of exchange is time itself. When your “bank clock” runs down…. Well, you drop dead. Interesting concept I’d say. Next up we have one of those previews that leaves one wondering what the movie’s actually about. “Killer Elite” has something to do with shooting people. More than that I couldn’t really tell you. Lastly and mercifully we had “Real Steel,” the movie about an old down-and-out robotic boxer who finds new inspiration at the hands of a child-hero. This movie is guaranteed to annoy me if it comes up in a “next available movie” review. Kid heroes piss me off.
The Movie
The first five minutes of this movie are so sudden and so gory that I honestly expected the director to pop up and yell, “Cut!” With no pre-amble or setup whatsoever a family of three is devoured by some monstrous beast. After the devouring, we pan out typical Hollywood style to show the whole neighborhood full of cookie-cutter houses… that are… well… JUST LIKE THE NEIGHBORHOOD YOU LIVE IN! OH SPOOKY! Well, not really, but it’s a pretty typical movie device.
So to set the scene we have Charley, a recently rehabilitated geek who has abandoned his old posse to hang out with the cool kids. That is, until Ed, one of his recently abandoned buddies, contacts him to say that one of their mutual friends has been killed by a vampire. As it turns out, this vampire just happens to be Charley’s hulky new neighbor who is putting the moves on Charley’s mom. After some amount of negotiation and blackmail, the duo find themselves vampire hunting.
Unfortunately, before they can really make much headway, Ed runs into “Jerry the Vampire” (as the movie points out repeatedly, what the hell kind of name is Jerry for a vampire?) and is taken in typical vampire style to the dark side. It’s not long, however, before Jerry learns that Charley too knows the truth and quickly Charley and his family become targets. A lot of gratuitous violence ensues which everyone survives just fine (conveniently).
After this wake-up call that he just might not be able to destroy the undead all on his own, Charley decides to enlist the help of Peter Vincent, famous Las Vegas act specializing in on-stage fake vampire killing. This relationship goes through the standard stages of any such movie relationship:
Stage 1: Oh, it’s all an act kid.
Stage 2: It’s all an act kid, but my family WAS killed by vampires.
Stage 3: It’s not just an act kid, but I’m too chickenshit to help.
And finally, Stage 4: Oh hell, let’s go kill some vampires!
So now having a reluctant ally to assist, Charley and Peter head off armed with Peter’s collection of vampire killing goodies (wooden stake guns, holy water and a wooden stake blessed by St. Michael that will revert all the vampires victims back to non-vampire form). In typical movie fashion, some drama happens, things look hopeless for a brief period and then all the vampires end up dead. Happy ending ensues. Nothing very surprising about any of that.
At its heart this is a typical suburban vampire tale to help inspire you to keep a little closer eye on what the neighbors are doing out in their back yards late at night. It has all the standard plot devices and processes from holy water to the standard vampire speech: “I’m doing you a favor making you undead. You can live forever!” So in that respect it was as cookie cutter as the houses depicted in the opening scene.
I will say though that it touched a bit on some interesting and newish points. Our vampire antagonist thought ahead and actually had small rooms built into his house to act as ‘meat lockers’ so he could keep his victims in captivity as he periodically fed on them. This is a practical matter not often touched on. Further, rather than being a single individual of an undead form, this vampire is one of a species. It is infrequent (ok, less than 50% of the time at least that the vampire is looked upon as a biological entity rather than a mere result of satanic influence. So while the standard vampire lore was still in place, the story did go in somewhat non-standard directions.
The best thing about the movie, however, was the casting. While the story itself was somewhat lame, Colin Farrell made a wonderfully menacing member of the undead empire and David Tennant of Dr. Who fame did a spot on portrayal of a Las Vegas showman who was at once less than he appeared and more than we expected. To me Tennant saved this movie from utter oblivion. So it earns five stars out of a possible ten. It loses stars for its lack of originality and needless use of violence but as usual the actors save the day.
The Previews
The Movie Buff theatre is certainly no frills in that before the movie starts there is… silence, utter and complete. Awaiting a movie which ones assumes to be suspenseful it does create a certain amount of tension. It’s unclear whether the movie will fade in gradually or crash into presence on the screen like a semi-truck full of cymbals getting into a wreck on the interstate. When finally the previews did begin, they certainly didn’t skimp. For the third time I saw a preview for the “50/50” movie. Long story short, guy is diagnosed with cancer lives out the last days of his life… maybe? I’d say it qualifies for the list of movies not to avoid like the plague but it would be one to take a date to. (A date who doesn’t mind occasional scribbling in a notebook.) Next up was “The Woman in Black” a very gothic-looking horror movie about a gent trapped in an isolated and apparently haunted house. I’d say that one deserves an intentional look though it’s not for the easily creeped out. The sci-fi movie “In Time” has a title that doesn’t really do it justice and I think it’ll eventually suffer for that defect. This futuristic yarn is at heart a crime drama but with the twist that in the future the only real currency of exchange is time itself. When your “bank clock” runs down…. Well, you drop dead. Interesting concept I’d say. Next up we have one of those previews that leaves one wondering what the movie’s actually about. “Killer Elite” has something to do with shooting people. More than that I couldn’t really tell you. Lastly and mercifully we had “Real Steel,” the movie about an old down-and-out robotic boxer who finds new inspiration at the hands of a child-hero. This movie is guaranteed to annoy me if it comes up in a “next available movie” review. Kid heroes piss me off.
The Movie
The first five minutes of this movie are so sudden and so gory that I honestly expected the director to pop up and yell, “Cut!” With no pre-amble or setup whatsoever a family of three is devoured by some monstrous beast. After the devouring, we pan out typical Hollywood style to show the whole neighborhood full of cookie-cutter houses… that are… well… JUST LIKE THE NEIGHBORHOOD YOU LIVE IN! OH SPOOKY! Well, not really, but it’s a pretty typical movie device.
So to set the scene we have Charley, a recently rehabilitated geek who has abandoned his old posse to hang out with the cool kids. That is, until Ed, one of his recently abandoned buddies, contacts him to say that one of their mutual friends has been killed by a vampire. As it turns out, this vampire just happens to be Charley’s hulky new neighbor who is putting the moves on Charley’s mom. After some amount of negotiation and blackmail, the duo find themselves vampire hunting.
Unfortunately, before they can really make much headway, Ed runs into “Jerry the Vampire” (as the movie points out repeatedly, what the hell kind of name is Jerry for a vampire?) and is taken in typical vampire style to the dark side. It’s not long, however, before Jerry learns that Charley too knows the truth and quickly Charley and his family become targets. A lot of gratuitous violence ensues which everyone survives just fine (conveniently).
After this wake-up call that he just might not be able to destroy the undead all on his own, Charley decides to enlist the help of Peter Vincent, famous Las Vegas act specializing in on-stage fake vampire killing. This relationship goes through the standard stages of any such movie relationship:
Stage 1: Oh, it’s all an act kid.
Stage 2: It’s all an act kid, but my family WAS killed by vampires.
Stage 3: It’s not just an act kid, but I’m too chickenshit to help.
And finally, Stage 4: Oh hell, let’s go kill some vampires!
So now having a reluctant ally to assist, Charley and Peter head off armed with Peter’s collection of vampire killing goodies (wooden stake guns, holy water and a wooden stake blessed by St. Michael that will revert all the vampires victims back to non-vampire form). In typical movie fashion, some drama happens, things look hopeless for a brief period and then all the vampires end up dead. Happy ending ensues. Nothing very surprising about any of that.
At its heart this is a typical suburban vampire tale to help inspire you to keep a little closer eye on what the neighbors are doing out in their back yards late at night. It has all the standard plot devices and processes from holy water to the standard vampire speech: “I’m doing you a favor making you undead. You can live forever!” So in that respect it was as cookie cutter as the houses depicted in the opening scene.
I will say though that it touched a bit on some interesting and newish points. Our vampire antagonist thought ahead and actually had small rooms built into his house to act as ‘meat lockers’ so he could keep his victims in captivity as he periodically fed on them. This is a practical matter not often touched on. Further, rather than being a single individual of an undead form, this vampire is one of a species. It is infrequent (ok, less than 50% of the time at least that the vampire is looked upon as a biological entity rather than a mere result of satanic influence. So while the standard vampire lore was still in place, the story did go in somewhat non-standard directions.
The best thing about the movie, however, was the casting. While the story itself was somewhat lame, Colin Farrell made a wonderfully menacing member of the undead empire and David Tennant of Dr. Who fame did a spot on portrayal of a Las Vegas showman who was at once less than he appeared and more than we expected. To me Tennant saved this movie from utter oblivion. So it earns five stars out of a possible ten. It loses stars for its lack of originality and needless use of violence but as usual the actors save the day.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Movies: 30 Minutes or Less [3/10]
To me the idea is simple and intuitive: You decide on no notice to traipse off to the movies and when you get there you watch the next available movie no matter what that happens to be. What could be easier? There are three possible outcomes.
Outcome the first: You end up seeing a movie that you would have seen anyway. Delay of gratification fail but nothing really lost or gained otherwise.
Outcome the second: You see a movie that you would have ignored otherwise and it turns out to have been the most awe-inspiring and amazing cinematic experience of your entire life. Or... some shade of gray between that and “eh, should have stayed home and watched Jerry Springer.”
Outcome the third: You see a movie so bad that you can have endless fun regaling all of your friends/readers/countrymen about just how utterly and absolutely moronic it was and invoke mirth if you tell the story right or at least pity if you don't. With these three possibilities at hand, I fail to see how any such scantily-planned scheme can fail. (As long as you ignore the $7-$12 you paid to get in, anyway.)
So today's winner of $7 was the movie “30 Minutes or Less.” Instinct and reputation said immediately that this movie was an utter loser but one must stay true to one's beliefs so I boldly went forward unto the ticket stand and placed my order. I was immediately accosted by a rather glacial woman next to the cashier who was hanging all over a notebook filled with movie reviews like too much icing on too small a cupcake. “Why'd you pick that one?” she said. Ever-ready and well-rehearsed I went into my standard spiel on movie selection criteria which left her with exactly as much information as she had before. She went on to explain that she lives in Frankfort and “they don't get no fancy movies like this in Frankfort.” Having been born in that town, I can well believe her statement. I turned my attention back to the cashier (a teenage girl) who handed me my ticket and conspiratorially whispered “You'll like it, it's really funny.” Now my doom was assured.
The Previews
Whenever I'm in movies I always think to myself that I should actually make note of the previews and review THOSE so that I can make an informed decision about actually picking a movie later (gasp, I know, sacrilege, right?). In this case, a couple of movies actually struck me as having some weird non-zero potential. The faithful-servant turned crook movie of the fall seems to be “Tower Heist” (due out November 4th) and it intrigued me not only because of its cast of actors I've actually seen before and can name but also it's sort of sweet timeliness. Like any movie-going schmuck I love justice and especially when it's at the expense of rich, powerful corporate types. I'll definitely put this on my “don't offhandedly ignore” list. The other movie that made me actually bother to write down its name in the movie theatre was “Moneyball,” (September 23) a baseball movie about the Oakland A's and their success at using analytical methods to win baseball games rather than relying on the conventional wisdom of 150 years of baseball history. When you put baseball and analytical analysis together you've got me hooked already. So I'll put that down solidly in the “think about going to see on purpose” category.
The Movie
Yes, hard to believe that after ALL that blather there is actually still a movie to be reviewed. Well, before I go on, I should say a bit about spoilers. In this case, there's nothing to be spoiled so no worries. Long story short, Nick's a pizza delivery guy who seems to have only one actual friend, Chet. Chet is the highlight of this pair and he has some wonderful one-liners. Early on he sets the stage for Nick's character with the line: “Dude, you had a Lunchables for dinner last night. You are a total manchild.” That about sums up those two.
Dwayne is the maniacal idiot son of an ex-Marine. He and his sidekick Travis plot to kill Dwayne's dad for the inheritance but in order to do this they need $100,000 to hire a hit-man to whom he is referred by a stripper with the moniker of Juicy. So their plan to get this money, is to call for a pizza delivery and when the delivery guy arrives, they'll strap a bomb to him and make him rob a bank. It's utterly fool-proof. Dwayne and Travis too have a few amusing exchanges but this one made even me blink with a bit of aghast surprise (paraphrasing a bit):
Dwayne: I have an idea for a cash business that's just crawling with hot bitches!
Travis: Taco stand?
Dwayne: No
Travis: Abortion Clinic?
So after much kerfuffle the plan comes to pass. Dwayne and Travis wire Nick with a bomb and he finds himself forced to rob a bank in the company of a surprisingly faithful Chet. The duo makes the standard preparations for the robbery and manage to pull it off in a friendly fashion that gives one faith in the kind, honest hearts of criminals everywhere. After even more unnecessary and gratuitous violence they thwart the bad-guys and even end up with the $100,000 for their trouble which they don't even consider actually returning to the bank. There seems to be little justice in this movie that can't make up its mind whether it wants to be a comedy or an action movie and even takes a short side-trip into the maudlin. This movie gets a solid 3 out of 10 stars due only to the fact that you could get some enjoyment about of the first 30 minutes... assuming you had had enough to drink beforehand.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Islam: The Straight Path – John L. Esposito [1998] – Chapter 1
Below you will find my notes and random observations from the book indicated by the title of this post. It is hoped that it will be effortless to differentiate between those locations in which I provide information from the book proper and those in which I offer personal observation, illumination or pose further lines of inquiry. Whenever any doubt is evident it should be assumed that anything even remotely factual should be attributed to the author of the book and anything that would be construed as otherwise can be attributed to me personally.
Links to related posts: (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 [Part 1][Part 2][Part 3])
It is evident early on that “Islam: The Straight Path” is authored by one who is himself a believer in the Muslim faith. Similarly, it will become quickly evident that your commentator is not a believer in the Muslim faith or, in fact, a believer in any faith at all. As such, the book’s author and the blog’s author will be quickly distinguishable. While the author of the blog will do everything in his power to maintain respectful of all possible beliefs, it is of fundamental importance that we all deal with this important area of study as frankly and openly as possible.
The book opens with a few simple numerical facts and some historical background. The adherents of the Muslim faith number 900 million strong with 85% belonging to the Sunni division and 15% to the Shii. Before Muhammad, Arabian society was tribal in nature. Nomadic herders wandered the desert tending their flocks moving from one oasis to the next. Rule of law was primarily enforced by the threat of retaliation. Social structure was familial in nature with many families combining to form a clan and several clans forming a tribe. Leadership of the tribe was determined by a vote of senior members of each family. Warfare was common but generally focused on assimilation rather than annihilation. Religious practices were polytheistic with Allah at the center but different tribes adopted different members of the pantheon as their patron or preferred objects of worship.
Muhammad was called to be the prophet of Allah in 610 C.E. at the age of 40. He was orphaned at a young age but married at the age of 25 and had 3 sons (all of whom died as infants) and 4 daughters by the time of his calling. He often retreated into the mountains to contemplate life and its injustices and it was on one of the retreats during the month of Ramadan that he received his first prophetic message from the Angel Gabriel. Over the next 22 years Muhammad continued to receive prophecy from Allah and these prophecies and teachings were compiled into the Quran or, “The Recitation”.
At first, as with most prophets, Muhammad thought himself crazy. Luckily, his wife and her Christian friend (ironic) were able to convince him that he was in fact not crazy but instead the chosen one of God. As time went on and his following grew, Muhammad and his teachings also came under the scrutiny of government representatives who resented his insistence on justice in public affairs that ran afoul of the typically corrupt practices of the time. After 10 years of preaching in Mecca, Muhammad was invited to migrate to Medina to solve a dispute(?) for a public official there. It is this migration to Medina in 622 that is viewed as the true beginning of the Muslim faith. Muhammad quickly gained influence in Medina and wages periodic war with his previous home, Mecca. In 630 Mecca finally capitulates but Muhammad doesn’t have long to celebrate as he dies not long thereafter in 632.
Culturally, Muhammad is held up as the example in all things good and pure in Muslim culture from hygiene to politics and prayer. Contrary to popular Western opinion, Muhammad is not the founder of Islam so much as the one who brought the previously polytheistic Islamic culture back into line with the classic monotheistic beliefs of Abraham from which all Arabs draw their lineage. The Muslim faith existed before Muhammad but needed correction in the same way that Muslims believe that Judaism and Christianity need correction to bring them into line with the will of Allah. Muslims share many common aspects of their faith with their Christian and Jewish neighbors and even go so far as to compare themselves to the oppressed followers of Moses in the Old Testament.
The schism between Islam and the other religions of the region are, unsurprisingly, blamed on Jewish influence. Muhammad attempted to approach his Jewish neighbors in an attempt to “correct” their belief systems and even went so far as to suggest that Muslims should direct their daily prayers toward Jerusalem. Unfortunately, the Jewish populace refused these “corrections” and prayers were then redirected to Mecca as they remain today. Since this rejection of sharia (“The Straight Path”) by Jewish leaders, the Muslim mujahidin (holy warriors) wage jihad against their Jewish oppressors. The martyrs in this war, or shahid (literally: witnesses), are viewed as heroes since they gave all defending the truth of Allah.
The Quran, dictated to Muhammad over the period of 22 years is seen as absolute and incorruptible. Its 114 chapters are arranged in ascending order of length and were collected after Muhammad’s death. Like the Bible, the Quran considers itself self-evident. Anyone seeking validation of the Quran need merely look around at nature and the world around us or the history of the world in which the unjust are repeatedly smote by Allah. Of the Jewish faith, the Quran claims that the Torah was indeed originally the word of God but was unfortunately corrupted by the desire of mankind. Christians seem to be viewed as idolaters who have placed Jesus, who is acknowledged as a prophet of God, above God himself. The Quran, by contrast, is the centerpiece of not only Muslim faith but the Arabic language. The Quran is viewed as the very epitome of perfect and unsurpassable literature not only for its content but because it is written in Arabic, the one true language of God.
As a text, the Quran bears many similarities to the Bible but also bears some striking differences. For example, the Quran repeats the famous episode in which Abraham is called upon to sacrifice Isaac but in the Quran’s version it is Ismail who is to be sacrificed instead. Where the Bible and the Quran are the same, it is claimed, they are the divinely inspired word of God. Where they differ, it is a corruption. Most pointedly, the Quran specifically points out the uniqueness and oneness of Allah. Allah has no sons. No partners. This seems to invalidate the entire Christian religion in one small sentence. One can see why there’s conflict.
The Quranic universe is composed of three principle parts: heaven, earth and hell. Heaven is represented as a mansion surrounded by peaceful bliss and flowing rivers. It’s inhabited by nubile young women and they’re apparently not shy yet still perpetually virginal. In typical fashion hell is a rain of torment and fire. Earth is the domain of man and the jinn. Jinn are intelligent spirits that roam the Earth and, like man, will be judged on the day of reckoning as they can be either of good or evil varieties. Joining these we have the typical angels and of course Satan. Satan, or Iblis, seems to have a different story than the Biblical one. When Allah created man, he commanded all the angels to bow down but Satan refused (presumably as an act of jealousy). For this refusal Allah cast Satan out but Satan managed to negotiate his punishment so that he was allowed roam the earth until the judgment day. Presumably for the purpose of tempting mankind into hell.
Finally, the difference that I suspect causes the most trouble (aside from the blatant denial of Jesus’ position as son of God) is the concept of the fundamental nature of mankind. From Biblical tradition we have an inherited evil or sin for each man or woman on the planet. The missteps of Eve haunt us all even to this day. The Quranic tradition seems much more forgiving and frankly, much more just. In the Quran there is no original sin. Each man is good or sinful based on his own actions. Man is an agent of Allah’s will and will be judged based on his own ability to carry out that will, not based on some inherited debt of virtue over which is has no control. Even more galling perhaps, in the Quran’s telling of man’s expulsion from the Garden, it’s not Eve who gives in to temptation first but Adam.
In conclusion (at least for this chapter) I find a lot of this fairly typical. The Quran is deemed perfect in the same way that the Bible is deemed perfect since God will watch over his word for Christians. Islam claims the flag of “absolutely and completely right” while the Bible does the same. Clearly one or the other must be flawed but the decision for that seems to have much more to do with what you were raised believing than any real qualitative differences. They are two very similar documents cut from very similar cloth with just enough niggling differences to make the adherents of each really, really dislike each other. I will say that the Quran seems much more fair than the Bible, at least based on this small overview. The abolishment of original sin and introduction of personal responsibility ring very true with me. The sociopolitical revolution of Islam that brought order to a tribal society is deeply important and should be recognized. The historical importance of Islam should not be diminished by any perceptions of its negative influence on current events.
Links to related posts: (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 [Part 1][Part 2][Part 3])
It is evident early on that “Islam: The Straight Path” is authored by one who is himself a believer in the Muslim faith. Similarly, it will become quickly evident that your commentator is not a believer in the Muslim faith or, in fact, a believer in any faith at all. As such, the book’s author and the blog’s author will be quickly distinguishable. While the author of the blog will do everything in his power to maintain respectful of all possible beliefs, it is of fundamental importance that we all deal with this important area of study as frankly and openly as possible.
The book opens with a few simple numerical facts and some historical background. The adherents of the Muslim faith number 900 million strong with 85% belonging to the Sunni division and 15% to the Shii. Before Muhammad, Arabian society was tribal in nature. Nomadic herders wandered the desert tending their flocks moving from one oasis to the next. Rule of law was primarily enforced by the threat of retaliation. Social structure was familial in nature with many families combining to form a clan and several clans forming a tribe. Leadership of the tribe was determined by a vote of senior members of each family. Warfare was common but generally focused on assimilation rather than annihilation. Religious practices were polytheistic with Allah at the center but different tribes adopted different members of the pantheon as their patron or preferred objects of worship.
Muhammad was called to be the prophet of Allah in 610 C.E. at the age of 40. He was orphaned at a young age but married at the age of 25 and had 3 sons (all of whom died as infants) and 4 daughters by the time of his calling. He often retreated into the mountains to contemplate life and its injustices and it was on one of the retreats during the month of Ramadan that he received his first prophetic message from the Angel Gabriel. Over the next 22 years Muhammad continued to receive prophecy from Allah and these prophecies and teachings were compiled into the Quran or, “The Recitation”.
At first, as with most prophets, Muhammad thought himself crazy. Luckily, his wife and her Christian friend (ironic) were able to convince him that he was in fact not crazy but instead the chosen one of God. As time went on and his following grew, Muhammad and his teachings also came under the scrutiny of government representatives who resented his insistence on justice in public affairs that ran afoul of the typically corrupt practices of the time. After 10 years of preaching in Mecca, Muhammad was invited to migrate to Medina to solve a dispute(?) for a public official there. It is this migration to Medina in 622 that is viewed as the true beginning of the Muslim faith. Muhammad quickly gained influence in Medina and wages periodic war with his previous home, Mecca. In 630 Mecca finally capitulates but Muhammad doesn’t have long to celebrate as he dies not long thereafter in 632.
Culturally, Muhammad is held up as the example in all things good and pure in Muslim culture from hygiene to politics and prayer. Contrary to popular Western opinion, Muhammad is not the founder of Islam so much as the one who brought the previously polytheistic Islamic culture back into line with the classic monotheistic beliefs of Abraham from which all Arabs draw their lineage. The Muslim faith existed before Muhammad but needed correction in the same way that Muslims believe that Judaism and Christianity need correction to bring them into line with the will of Allah. Muslims share many common aspects of their faith with their Christian and Jewish neighbors and even go so far as to compare themselves to the oppressed followers of Moses in the Old Testament.
The schism between Islam and the other religions of the region are, unsurprisingly, blamed on Jewish influence. Muhammad attempted to approach his Jewish neighbors in an attempt to “correct” their belief systems and even went so far as to suggest that Muslims should direct their daily prayers toward Jerusalem. Unfortunately, the Jewish populace refused these “corrections” and prayers were then redirected to Mecca as they remain today. Since this rejection of sharia (“The Straight Path”) by Jewish leaders, the Muslim mujahidin (holy warriors) wage jihad against their Jewish oppressors. The martyrs in this war, or shahid (literally: witnesses), are viewed as heroes since they gave all defending the truth of Allah.
The Quran, dictated to Muhammad over the period of 22 years is seen as absolute and incorruptible. Its 114 chapters are arranged in ascending order of length and were collected after Muhammad’s death. Like the Bible, the Quran considers itself self-evident. Anyone seeking validation of the Quran need merely look around at nature and the world around us or the history of the world in which the unjust are repeatedly smote by Allah. Of the Jewish faith, the Quran claims that the Torah was indeed originally the word of God but was unfortunately corrupted by the desire of mankind. Christians seem to be viewed as idolaters who have placed Jesus, who is acknowledged as a prophet of God, above God himself. The Quran, by contrast, is the centerpiece of not only Muslim faith but the Arabic language. The Quran is viewed as the very epitome of perfect and unsurpassable literature not only for its content but because it is written in Arabic, the one true language of God.
As a text, the Quran bears many similarities to the Bible but also bears some striking differences. For example, the Quran repeats the famous episode in which Abraham is called upon to sacrifice Isaac but in the Quran’s version it is Ismail who is to be sacrificed instead. Where the Bible and the Quran are the same, it is claimed, they are the divinely inspired word of God. Where they differ, it is a corruption. Most pointedly, the Quran specifically points out the uniqueness and oneness of Allah. Allah has no sons. No partners. This seems to invalidate the entire Christian religion in one small sentence. One can see why there’s conflict.
The Quranic universe is composed of three principle parts: heaven, earth and hell. Heaven is represented as a mansion surrounded by peaceful bliss and flowing rivers. It’s inhabited by nubile young women and they’re apparently not shy yet still perpetually virginal. In typical fashion hell is a rain of torment and fire. Earth is the domain of man and the jinn. Jinn are intelligent spirits that roam the Earth and, like man, will be judged on the day of reckoning as they can be either of good or evil varieties. Joining these we have the typical angels and of course Satan. Satan, or Iblis, seems to have a different story than the Biblical one. When Allah created man, he commanded all the angels to bow down but Satan refused (presumably as an act of jealousy). For this refusal Allah cast Satan out but Satan managed to negotiate his punishment so that he was allowed roam the earth until the judgment day. Presumably for the purpose of tempting mankind into hell.
Finally, the difference that I suspect causes the most trouble (aside from the blatant denial of Jesus’ position as son of God) is the concept of the fundamental nature of mankind. From Biblical tradition we have an inherited evil or sin for each man or woman on the planet. The missteps of Eve haunt us all even to this day. The Quranic tradition seems much more forgiving and frankly, much more just. In the Quran there is no original sin. Each man is good or sinful based on his own actions. Man is an agent of Allah’s will and will be judged based on his own ability to carry out that will, not based on some inherited debt of virtue over which is has no control. Even more galling perhaps, in the Quran’s telling of man’s expulsion from the Garden, it’s not Eve who gives in to temptation first but Adam.
In conclusion (at least for this chapter) I find a lot of this fairly typical. The Quran is deemed perfect in the same way that the Bible is deemed perfect since God will watch over his word for Christians. Islam claims the flag of “absolutely and completely right” while the Bible does the same. Clearly one or the other must be flawed but the decision for that seems to have much more to do with what you were raised believing than any real qualitative differences. They are two very similar documents cut from very similar cloth with just enough niggling differences to make the adherents of each really, really dislike each other. I will say that the Quran seems much more fair than the Bible, at least based on this small overview. The abolishment of original sin and introduction of personal responsibility ring very true with me. The sociopolitical revolution of Islam that brought order to a tribal society is deeply important and should be recognized. The historical importance of Islam should not be diminished by any perceptions of its negative influence on current events.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Storyboard - Misc 6/28/2011
Like any human I've found myself up and down on the energy required to go out and take photos. To the best of my recollection, the photoset from 6/28 is an amalgamation of a couple of days of random photography.
So this fly, as I recall, was buzzing around in Laura's backyard. For some reason I cannot fathom it stood still long enough for me to get its picture with the macro and even preened itself with that cool "I'm going to rub my eyes with my feet" move that flies like to do so much.
Yeah, this next picture is a bit questionable but I trust you all to be adults about it. Birds do it and beetles do it.
These two are always a hoot.
This shot is from the Wabash river beach. For once it's not flooding.
To continue the craziness of this random time period, there was also a horse show in this. I like the way the horse holds itself so stiffly like it's posing to be a chess piece.
And in an accidental recreation of Muybridge we prove that when horses run they DO get all four feet off the ground at once. (Quite a difference 139 years can make)
Laura has a way with the savage beast...
Such deep and soulful eyes. It honestly breaks my heart that we take these creatures... though this one does have sort of an eyebooger thing going.
And the stereotypical shot of Indy downtown from near the state museum.
I love this shot. Laura's beautiful (nothing new there) but the gondolier in the background on the cellphone is a priceless anachronism.
So this fly, as I recall, was buzzing around in Laura's backyard. For some reason I cannot fathom it stood still long enough for me to get its picture with the macro and even preened itself with that cool "I'm going to rub my eyes with my feet" move that flies like to do so much.
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
Yeah, this next picture is a bit questionable but I trust you all to be adults about it. Birds do it and beetles do it.
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
These two are always a hoot.
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
This shot is from the Wabash river beach. For once it's not flooding.
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
To continue the craziness of this random time period, there was also a horse show in this. I like the way the horse holds itself so stiffly like it's posing to be a chess piece.
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
And in an accidental recreation of Muybridge we prove that when horses run they DO get all four feet off the ground at once. (Quite a difference 139 years can make)
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
Laura has a way with the savage beast...
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
Such deep and soulful eyes. It honestly breaks my heart that we take these creatures... though this one does have sort of an eyebooger thing going.
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
And the stereotypical shot of Indy downtown from near the state museum.
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
I love this shot. Laura's beautiful (nothing new there) but the gondolier in the background on the cellphone is a priceless anachronism.
 |
| From 2011-06-28 |
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Storyboard - West Park, Carmel, Indiana - 8/13/2011
In a happy twist of August Indiana weather it was a blissful 73 degrees outside yesterday so my first inclination turned towards taking the kids to the State Fair. The youngest was easily tempted over to my side with the phrase, "they have food..." but the eldest was unconvinced as revealed by her response of "I hate the state fair. I always have hated the state fair and I always will. *sigh* Fine. Given that attitude and with the debacle of the previous year in mind (in which we spent $37 for a 20-minute visit) a compromise was in order.
The eldest's counter-suggestion was that we go to the Children's Museum on the principle that it was "too hot to be outside." Commentary on the decadent American lifestyle that leads to such beliefs aside, we instead headed out to West Park.
Izzy, who upon arriving at the park observed that there was clearly no food, was indignant and charged off as quickly and as obviously annoyed as it is possible to do at her age. I suppose she should have growled at us but she made her disgruntlement clear enough without such guttural utterances.
We quickly managed to bring the indignant Izzy around by pointing out the abundance of testudine (turtle) wildlife. Only moments before in the car she'd been discussing strategies by which she might wrangle herself into having a turtle as a pet.
Amanda, however, was still unconvinced. The temperature had skyrocketed to the header figure of 74 degrees.
A walnut or two found under a pine tree never hurts one's attitude either, it seems.
I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I stood in this area for a couple of minutes before noticing this heron fishing for its breakfast. Generally when you see them they seem to be just placidly walking along as if they have nothing much better to do but this one was actively taking advantage of the large number of small fish in the pond.
I also have to give the park a lot of credit. They appear to be cultivating several native species that you don't find in most public areas. I believe this is Prairie Dock if I recall correctly.
And no summer trip would be complete without a dragonfly.
The eldest's counter-suggestion was that we go to the Children's Museum on the principle that it was "too hot to be outside." Commentary on the decadent American lifestyle that leads to such beliefs aside, we instead headed out to West Park.
Izzy, who upon arriving at the park observed that there was clearly no food, was indignant and charged off as quickly and as obviously annoyed as it is possible to do at her age. I suppose she should have growled at us but she made her disgruntlement clear enough without such guttural utterances.
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
We quickly managed to bring the indignant Izzy around by pointing out the abundance of testudine (turtle) wildlife. Only moments before in the car she'd been discussing strategies by which she might wrangle herself into having a turtle as a pet.
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
Amanda, however, was still unconvinced. The temperature had skyrocketed to the header figure of 74 degrees.
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
A walnut or two found under a pine tree never hurts one's attitude either, it seems.
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I stood in this area for a couple of minutes before noticing this heron fishing for its breakfast. Generally when you see them they seem to be just placidly walking along as if they have nothing much better to do but this one was actively taking advantage of the large number of small fish in the pond.
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
I also have to give the park a lot of credit. They appear to be cultivating several native species that you don't find in most public areas. I believe this is Prairie Dock if I recall correctly.
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
And no summer trip would be complete without a dragonfly.
 |
| From West Park - 8-13-2011 |
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Storyboard - Eagle Creek - 7/9/2011
It is not lost on me that as the days go by, I'm forced to reach further and further back into my recollections to post my thoughts on each of my photo albums. I'm not sure if this is significant because I'm posting far too frequently on the topic in question or because I'm taking photos too infrequently. Either way, I find myself posting about photos taken almost a month ago so forgive me if my recollections are weak ones.
As I cast my mind backwards, I recall a Saturday when I had little else to do so I wandered out to Eagle Creek. This somewhat private park on the North West side of Indianapolis has always been somewhat of an enigma to me since it exists as a large and important park but is somehow not part of the Start Park system. It's likely that I notice this mostly because my annual pass to Indiana State Parks does not gain me admittance to this urban nirvana but instead costs me the heady sum of $5 per visit. Whatever the cost, however, there is much to be seen.
This first photo is evidence merely of my appreciation for the boundaries between land and water. I have an excessive appreciation for the plants that somehow span the gulf between the aquatic and the terrestrial.
Similarly, there's a certain symbolism in the manner in which trees procreate. I believe that this tiny messenger is from the cottonwood tree. Whatever its origin, the seed is a symbol of hope and optimism as the parent sends out millions of its progeny and can only raise up a prayer to whatever divinity represents the hardwoods that its seed will find purchase in some hospitable soil far away.
Now we get to the dragonflies. I spent the better part of my sunburned day in an Indiana July chasing these things all over their marshy abodes. They really are quaint miracles of nature. It boggles the mind how they can fly at all, let alone do so efficiently and with such precision. There are more things in heaven and Earth...
Those delicate wings...
Yeah, ok, so here's where I admit that I chased this ONE dragonfly around for 20 minutes.
Probably my favorite. Note the posture and also the delicate lacework on the wings.
Alright, so here's where I also admit that somehow I've lived a charmed life. If you read my auto-bio you'll see that this wasn't always the case but over the past few years I can't help but feel that when I just let the winds of randomness blow me whence they will, they tend to blow me into exceptionally interesting spots. In this case, I just happened to get blown into a bicycle race.
In fact, the race was so ... well, circular in nature, that I was able to get a bit artsy. This photo makes me think more strongly of an oil paining than a photo.
After the bikes, it was time to find our way to the pond, aka "the next random place I wandered to". The butterflies were in evidence.
And more of these, of course.
And one very cooperative... moth?
Reptiles.... well, reptiles have always fascinated me. They seem at the same time utterly independent and at the same time at the mercy of the weather. No matter how stubborn a tortoise might be, give him a cold morning and he is at your mercy. Luckily, these turtles sunning themselves had no such worries.
And thus ends, apparently, the trip around the park on the ninth. To extend the visual elements, I recall that the park was very, very warm and that I was more than a bit lonely. Someone for whom I have great affection was off doing her own thing so I was compensating with a bit of natural beauty. Either way though, a fine time was had. And thus we close.
As I cast my mind backwards, I recall a Saturday when I had little else to do so I wandered out to Eagle Creek. This somewhat private park on the North West side of Indianapolis has always been somewhat of an enigma to me since it exists as a large and important park but is somehow not part of the Start Park system. It's likely that I notice this mostly because my annual pass to Indiana State Parks does not gain me admittance to this urban nirvana but instead costs me the heady sum of $5 per visit. Whatever the cost, however, there is much to be seen.
This first photo is evidence merely of my appreciation for the boundaries between land and water. I have an excessive appreciation for the plants that somehow span the gulf between the aquatic and the terrestrial.
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
Similarly, there's a certain symbolism in the manner in which trees procreate. I believe that this tiny messenger is from the cottonwood tree. Whatever its origin, the seed is a symbol of hope and optimism as the parent sends out millions of its progeny and can only raise up a prayer to whatever divinity represents the hardwoods that its seed will find purchase in some hospitable soil far away.
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
Now we get to the dragonflies. I spent the better part of my sunburned day in an Indiana July chasing these things all over their marshy abodes. They really are quaint miracles of nature. It boggles the mind how they can fly at all, let alone do so efficiently and with such precision. There are more things in heaven and Earth...
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
Those delicate wings...
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
Yeah, ok, so here's where I admit that I chased this ONE dragonfly around for 20 minutes.
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
Probably my favorite. Note the posture and also the delicate lacework on the wings.
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
Alright, so here's where I also admit that somehow I've lived a charmed life. If you read my auto-bio you'll see that this wasn't always the case but over the past few years I can't help but feel that when I just let the winds of randomness blow me whence they will, they tend to blow me into exceptionally interesting spots. In this case, I just happened to get blown into a bicycle race.
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
In fact, the race was so ... well, circular in nature, that I was able to get a bit artsy. This photo makes me think more strongly of an oil paining than a photo.
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
After the bikes, it was time to find our way to the pond, aka "the next random place I wandered to". The butterflies were in evidence.
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
And more of these, of course.
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
And one very cooperative... moth?
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
Reptiles.... well, reptiles have always fascinated me. They seem at the same time utterly independent and at the same time at the mercy of the weather. No matter how stubborn a tortoise might be, give him a cold morning and he is at your mercy. Luckily, these turtles sunning themselves had no such worries.
 |
| From 2011-07-09 |
And thus ends, apparently, the trip around the park on the ninth. To extend the visual elements, I recall that the park was very, very warm and that I was more than a bit lonely. Someone for whom I have great affection was off doing her own thing so I was compensating with a bit of natural beauty. Either way though, a fine time was had. And thus we close.
Arts: Cirque du Soleil: Dralion – 8/6/2011
On Saturday night we wandered out to see Cirque du Soleil and it must be admitted that when we heard that it was in town… and tickets were available… all four of our eyes got as big as saucers. There are some things in life that are greeted with a “phffttt… they’ll be back” or a “eh, whatever” but Cirque was not one of them. We hastened to obtain tickets (at the last minute) and betook ourselves unto the show.
So, to start, I will admit that I wasn’t nearly as awe-inspiringly impressed as I would have liked to have been. Yes, the acrobatics were beyond any criticism. Yes, the show was immaculately prepared and with only a few exceptions, flawless. Yes, I enjoyed it immensely but I’ll admit that I fell victim to the curse of expectations. In our over-indulged American lives we see so much and we have so much placed in front of us on television that when the real thing presents itself… well, we’re desensitized. Like a magician who has many of his tricks telegraphed to the audience ahead of time, Cirque made me internally say, “cool” but at no time did my mind say, “wow!” Well, ok, with one exception. I still don’t understand completely how those trampoliners managed to defy physics in quite the specific and indescribable way in which they did. If you want the details on that you’ll have to actually go.
So during this interesting but not awe-inspiring show, I felt my mind wandering, as I often do. I couldn’t help but ponder to myself… why is it…? What is it about these shows that enthralls us so? Why do we care so much about the men who can run and jump flawlessly through two hoops? Why is it important to us when a person can grab a long ribbon of silk and dance with it into the air suspended above the stage as if they were born there? Why on Earth do we give a damn about any of this impractical crap that they do? The answer, I think, comes down to the simple matter of control.
When we look at these people, so obviously and completely in control of themselves and their movements, we have a certain and undeniable sense of envy. It is this “envy of control” that keeps us coming back for more. This group has dedicated their lives, their diets, their everything, to the simple fact that they have utter and complete control of their bodies. When they tell their bodies to walk gracefully on top of a large ball, their bodies do it. By counterpoint, our bodies can’t keep us from eating that last bite of hamburger at Applebees. The people at Cirque have something that we struggle with daily. They have dominion over themselves. They have control. And we… we do not. For this they are adulated, admired and revered.
And I would posit that this extends not only to circus performers. In general, I think that we can’t help but respect those that do things that are beyond our own capabilities, those who demonstrate a control and mastery of themselves that we can’t begin to fathom. Whether they are actors on the stage taking on a role or comedians fighting back the butterflies that we would doubtless feel under such pressure, we elevate those who control that which is beyond our control. Each of us looks up to the not-us. It is the not-us to which we aspire and to which we hope to some day ascend. The secret to life may very well be finding the not-us and figuring out how to bring that most vividly and completely into our own ourselves.
So, to start, I will admit that I wasn’t nearly as awe-inspiringly impressed as I would have liked to have been. Yes, the acrobatics were beyond any criticism. Yes, the show was immaculately prepared and with only a few exceptions, flawless. Yes, I enjoyed it immensely but I’ll admit that I fell victim to the curse of expectations. In our over-indulged American lives we see so much and we have so much placed in front of us on television that when the real thing presents itself… well, we’re desensitized. Like a magician who has many of his tricks telegraphed to the audience ahead of time, Cirque made me internally say, “cool” but at no time did my mind say, “wow!” Well, ok, with one exception. I still don’t understand completely how those trampoliners managed to defy physics in quite the specific and indescribable way in which they did. If you want the details on that you’ll have to actually go.
So during this interesting but not awe-inspiring show, I felt my mind wandering, as I often do. I couldn’t help but ponder to myself… why is it…? What is it about these shows that enthralls us so? Why do we care so much about the men who can run and jump flawlessly through two hoops? Why is it important to us when a person can grab a long ribbon of silk and dance with it into the air suspended above the stage as if they were born there? Why on Earth do we give a damn about any of this impractical crap that they do? The answer, I think, comes down to the simple matter of control.
When we look at these people, so obviously and completely in control of themselves and their movements, we have a certain and undeniable sense of envy. It is this “envy of control” that keeps us coming back for more. This group has dedicated their lives, their diets, their everything, to the simple fact that they have utter and complete control of their bodies. When they tell their bodies to walk gracefully on top of a large ball, their bodies do it. By counterpoint, our bodies can’t keep us from eating that last bite of hamburger at Applebees. The people at Cirque have something that we struggle with daily. They have dominion over themselves. They have control. And we… we do not. For this they are adulated, admired and revered.
And I would posit that this extends not only to circus performers. In general, I think that we can’t help but respect those that do things that are beyond our own capabilities, those who demonstrate a control and mastery of themselves that we can’t begin to fathom. Whether they are actors on the stage taking on a role or comedians fighting back the butterflies that we would doubtless feel under such pressure, we elevate those who control that which is beyond our control. Each of us looks up to the not-us. It is the not-us to which we aspire and to which we hope to some day ascend. The secret to life may very well be finding the not-us and figuring out how to bring that most vividly and completely into our own ourselves.
Saturday, August 06, 2011
Books: “Julie and Julia” - Julie Powell [2005]
The concept of the book is probably by now familiar: a New York secretary decides to work her way through the Julie Child cookbook and make every recipe in it over the course of a year. Now I can certainly relate to the obsessive and completionist concept here. It’s just the sort of thing I might undertake and then get bored with. So we’re starting out at a point of relative commonality but much like our sunbathing pachyderm’s distended swimming gear, the idea that was intriguing in paragraph form becomes trite and redundant by the time one’s reading has progressed much at all.
Despite the unnecessary prolixity of the novel, there were some reasonable cultural and psychological points that bear discussion. I’m not convinced that any of these were really among the items the author intended to invoke in her readers, but they did come unbidden to mind for me at least. Let’s enumerate in no particular order.
At one point she tells the story of a call she received at work from a “black woman who runs an S&M dungeon.” This in itself isn’t unusual but she goes on to say that her dear husband is the only one with whom she could ever share such a story and have hopes that it would be appreciated properly. This I found a bit perplexing. It’s been my experience that just about EVERYONE appreciates a story of this ilk. The odd and unusual are the meat and drink of many, many people so the value of a story like this one is not to be diminished. What is it that makes her think her husband unique in his appreciation? Is she simply trying to find reasons to heap adulation on him or trying stealthily to criticize the rest of humanity for its narrowness of mind? It does seem that much of the book is intended as a vehicle for placing her husband on a pedestal.
In a similar vein, the protagonist is keenly aware of political divisions in those around her to the point of bigotry. She refers to “the Republicans” as if they were a troupe of scabrous lepers banging their tin cups on her cubical wall. Her attitude is very much one of of good-guy Democrats versus those ignorant Republicans and if one has the audacity to disagree with her then, as she might say, “fuck them.” Those who disagree with her might as well not even exist. This attitude becomes decidedly apropos at the climax of the novel when it’s found that her beloved Julia Child does not, in fact, like her or what she’s done. This leaves her between her previous state of admiration and an obligatory, “you don’t agree with me so fuck off.”
Moving on, I was reminded of one of my larger pet peeves when the protagonist put a ‘Donate’ widget on her blog page. Why is it that society thinks everything of value must be paid for? At what point in this country did we become so wrapped up in materialism and amassing wealth that doing something simply for the public good and entertainment was relegated solely to low-grade criminals doing “community service” and those too addled to know any better? Did the author entertain some people? Yes. Did the author inspire some people to cook? Yes. Does that make it appropriate for her to rattle her tin cup in front of the masses asking for donations? No. Call me communist if you want, but sometimes the best things are free. If you’re constantly looking to make a buck then it’s likely that’s all you’ll make.
OK, now for some palate cleansing before we close. Now that I’ve romped incessantly to the negative, weren’t there some positive aspects here? Most certainly the author’s dedication to a project, and a non-trivial one at that, are to be admired. The body of work required to actually cook that much and that consistently is nothing to be sneezed at. This is especially telling considering the apparently far-too-carnivorous nature of the French diet at the time. The amount of animal flesh and butter products used during the course of a single year must have rivaled that of some healthier restaurants during the same time period. Personally I would have found Eastern cooking for more palatable (and survivable).
Lastly, if the author’s characterization is to be believed, the book does serve to underscore the importance of Child’s seminal works on cooking. Making European cooking accessible (and entertaining) to hoards of US housewives probably contributed at least somewhat to the explosion of dietary diversity we see in America today. To be clear, I’m not claiming familiarity with the history of cuisine in this country over the past 50 years but it would not be surprising if the popularity of French, Thai, Greek, Chinese and a hundred other ethnic food genres owes at least some debt of gratitude to Child’s work in making those exotic French foods seem much less exotic.
Thursday, August 04, 2011
Storyboard - Logansport, Indiana - 7/10/2011
A couple of weeks ago now I had the better part of a day to myself, so where better to head than some random Indiana town that was not previously of my acquaintance. In this case, it was Logansport and while it was far from Paris (France or Texas) it was nonetheless a refreshing trip for all its randomness.
The town has done a really good job of keeping itself properly decorated. I found a great little patch of garden in the downtown area. The cone-flowers are fairly typical but I was struck by the bedewed spiderwebs.
And this would have been better by yards and yards without the used car lot in the background.
Along with the garden there was also a carousel horse that had become disembodied from the herd, as it were. The eyelashes on this particular subject frankly terrified me.
I think timing is everything when it comes to capturing the morning dew. (duh)
This scene is typical of SO many Indiana towns. Their aging building-fronts offer impossibly anachronistic products. It's hard to know what to think, exactly. They have one foot in the past and one foot in the future without fully committing to either.
Like a lot of Indiana towns, Logansport straddles the Wabash and is at the junction of the Eel and the Wabash rivers.
I'm still a bit mystified by this one. Is it the bail bonds "shop" or the youth center? Perhaps the youth get in trouble so frequently that there's no need to distinguish between the two? Either way, the signage is in need of some clarification. PS: That bear looks terribly sad. Don't you just feel a NEED to bail him out?
Logansport has done a lot with its available shore space. I was never at a loss for features to take photos of...
I'm always a sucker for the 'decay' of human-made objects. This trip was no exception.
Even after thinking about it for a month, it's not clear to me what exactly this place is. Is it in the process of being built or in the process of being forgotten about? Either way, it's in some limbo state of usefulness. Note the primitive brickwork spelling out "Golden Palace" above the arch.
Moving on, it seems as if I've seen this particular grammatical oddity before. Why would the Baptist Church use the English "An House" in their permanently-affixed motto. Clearly something I'm missing here....
Yes, for those of you playing at home, Dr. Brewer has indeed set up shop in an old church. I guess this makes sense for those receiving the worst news as they can simply go across the hall to the chapel for any "second opinions".
Lots of lawyers in Logansport, though apparently they decided to all share the same office space. Miller Tolbert Muelhausen Muelhausen Groff and Damm stand ready to serve you...
The local cemetery in town is utterly uneventful except for this incredibly gaudy display. Gold leaf Jesus.... wow.
Alright, so here's where I confess that I had a better picture that I was afraid to take. These gents shown here actually were bow-fishing from the top of the bridge. When I walked past on the way back, they'd managed to catch a 2-foot carp(?) by the use of their skills. Considering the distance to the water from the bridge where they're standing, I considered this fairly impressive but when I broached the topic with them they stated simply that it was "easy" and that my admiration was utterly unnecessary.
These two were also interesting to observe. The boy was determined that he too would become a fisherman. His father (or grandfather?) made no promises except that they would NOT be bow-fishing any time soon. The younger's ebullient happiness at being on the bridge was a strange contrast to the worn and uneager attitude of the elder.
The town has done a really good job of keeping itself properly decorated. I found a great little patch of garden in the downtown area. The cone-flowers are fairly typical but I was struck by the bedewed spiderwebs.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
And this would have been better by yards and yards without the used car lot in the background.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
Along with the garden there was also a carousel horse that had become disembodied from the herd, as it were. The eyelashes on this particular subject frankly terrified me.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
I think timing is everything when it comes to capturing the morning dew. (duh)
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
This scene is typical of SO many Indiana towns. Their aging building-fronts offer impossibly anachronistic products. It's hard to know what to think, exactly. They have one foot in the past and one foot in the future without fully committing to either.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
Like a lot of Indiana towns, Logansport straddles the Wabash and is at the junction of the Eel and the Wabash rivers.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
I'm still a bit mystified by this one. Is it the bail bonds "shop" or the youth center? Perhaps the youth get in trouble so frequently that there's no need to distinguish between the two? Either way, the signage is in need of some clarification. PS: That bear looks terribly sad. Don't you just feel a NEED to bail him out?
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
Logansport has done a lot with its available shore space. I was never at a loss for features to take photos of...
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
I'm always a sucker for the 'decay' of human-made objects. This trip was no exception.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
Even after thinking about it for a month, it's not clear to me what exactly this place is. Is it in the process of being built or in the process of being forgotten about? Either way, it's in some limbo state of usefulness. Note the primitive brickwork spelling out "Golden Palace" above the arch.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
Moving on, it seems as if I've seen this particular grammatical oddity before. Why would the Baptist Church use the English "An House" in their permanently-affixed motto. Clearly something I'm missing here....
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
Yes, for those of you playing at home, Dr. Brewer has indeed set up shop in an old church. I guess this makes sense for those receiving the worst news as they can simply go across the hall to the chapel for any "second opinions".
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
Lots of lawyers in Logansport, though apparently they decided to all share the same office space. Miller Tolbert Muelhausen Muelhausen Groff and Damm stand ready to serve you...
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
The local cemetery in town is utterly uneventful except for this incredibly gaudy display. Gold leaf Jesus.... wow.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
Alright, so here's where I confess that I had a better picture that I was afraid to take. These gents shown here actually were bow-fishing from the top of the bridge. When I walked past on the way back, they'd managed to catch a 2-foot carp(?) by the use of their skills. Considering the distance to the water from the bridge where they're standing, I considered this fairly impressive but when I broached the topic with them they stated simply that it was "easy" and that my admiration was utterly unnecessary.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
These two were also interesting to observe. The boy was determined that he too would become a fisherman. His father (or grandfather?) made no promises except that they would NOT be bow-fishing any time soon. The younger's ebullient happiness at being on the bridge was a strange contrast to the worn and uneager attitude of the elder.
 |
| From Logansport IN, 7-10-2011 |
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