Me to co-worker: “I wasn’t just tired, I was road trip tired.”
Pause.
Me: “I bet you didn’t know “road trip” was a modifier.”
Co-worker: “It is now. I am definitely going to use that.”
Hints added
Hints for the two remaining trivia questions have been posted.
Tuesday Trivia with fun! hidden! theme!
Theme solved by Trevor J (comment #16).
1. Fireworks in the shape of a dragon make up part of a celebration.
Solved by Trevor J (comment #1).
2. A field full of daisies, and each is unique.
Hint: Presumably, “one of my favorite movies” is not a hint (except to Roberta), so I’ll go with—the birthday being celebrated is an 80th.
Solved by Evn (comment #21).
3. A caged bird turns out to be an ironic present.
Solved by Roberta (comment #5).
4. “I sped. I followed too closely. I ran a stop sign. I almost hit a Chevy. I sped some more. I failed to yield at a crosswalk. I changed lanes at the intersection. I changed lanes without signaling while running a red light and speeding.”
Solved by Melville (comment #8).
5. When the first cake isn’t perfect, she throws it out and bakes another.
Solved by Trevor J (comment #10).
6. After washing a bunch of vintage cars, he receives one as a gift.
Solved by Trevor J (comment #2).
7. The little girl’s aunt and uncle insist that she call her mother by her first name instead of “Mommy.”
Hint: Maggie Gyllenhal
Solved by George (comment #25).
Monday Movie Review: Things to Come
Things to Come (1936) 6/10
Science fiction showing one hundred years in one anonymous city (“Everytown”), based on the work of H.G. Wells. The film begins in 1940 when (a fictional) World War II breaks out; war lasts decades, at which point, bombing and germ warfare have devasted civilization. In 1970, Everytown, now a primitive feudal state, is invaded by “Wings Over the World,” a newly-formed world government, ruled by a scientific elite, that has re-started manufacturing and air travel. By 2036, society is a technological utopia.
You will often hear people talk about the times we live in as an ironic age, and about the 1930s and 1940s as being without irony. Things to Come is really a perfect expression of that. It is the least ironic movie ever made. I really wish I’d seen it with a bunch of drunken gays, because it simply longs for camp.
You can see how this movie must have been exciting and startling in 1936, and certainly all of the dialogue about ideas (as opposed to relationships or adventure) is interesting, and must have been kind of thrilling. It opens with an ordinary British family (Everytown is London in thin disguise) discussing the coming war; they discuss whether war is ever necessary, and the cost to culture, medicine, and technology. Sure enough, the pessimist wins out; strategic bombing destroys civilization, a plague devastates what’s left of society, manufacturing ceases, and the streets of Everytown in 1970 strong resemble 1570.
There’s a raw beauty in these scenes, the bombastic “Boss” (Ralph Richardson) is utterly over the top, but the use of cars as horse-drawn carts, and of scraps of old clothes with fur attached as royal robes, is kind of stunning. Then the mighty airman (Raymond Massey) comes. And I do love how, when civilization is rebuilt (in Basra of all places) it’s a priority to make sure clothing is futuristic. I’m looking at the guy and thinking, If I were retooling dormant factories, I’d stick with pre-existing molds for efficiency. But no. Gotta have those jumpsuits. The Boss fights back, with like nothing, so it doesn’t last long, and John Cabal (Massey) informs us that from now on, it’s world government, no religion, and the rule of the Airmen, hurrah. It’s all kind of creepy.
Now there’s a scene of rebuilding. It’s like a love song to manufacturing and technology, about 2 minutes of close-ups of rock-blasting and dye-casting and assembly, all to highly inspirational music. And I thought, these people really love science. Really. Love.
Skip forward to 2036 and everyone is wearing jumpsuits or tunics. And capes. With big-ass shoulder pads. Seriously, I needed to watch this with Chris March. Life is incredibly perfect, except for, you know, the dictatorship. But it’s totally benevolent and good for you and run by scientists. Scientists are high-minded and only make decisions that are for the good of high-minded things. There is nothing wrong with that model.
Anyway, it’s all utopian. No hunger or poverty or bad weather (underground cities!). And they’re just now getting around to shooting a “rocket gun” at the moon. This upsets some people, who think all this progress is just too much. Mankind needs a rest. Progress, progress, progress, it’s so tiring. And seriously, this is the actual argument. I’m not leaving out any of the nuance. But of course, the Luddites lose and the rocket gun launches, causing Raymond Massey (playing his own great-grandson) to give a speech about how cool progress is and how without it, life sucks.
Sunday Meditation: Expectations
Today is my birthday (thank you, thank you). How you can screw up your birthday is through expectations and hopes that are not articulated or fulfilled. There’s a fantasy about being catered to; that it will be like when you’re a kid, and the entire world parts like the Red Sea with birthday greetings and people bringing you breakfast in bed and presents and kisses.
The world is not the Red Sea of birthday greetings.
So let’s take a moment to contemplate this expectation. There is within you some longing. Some desire to be acknowledged, to be treated with regard, to be loved. This is a good desire, normal, human, poignant and real. It is harmful only when nurtured as a resentment towards the world instead of as a feeling of self-regard that is projected outward.
Imagine (or remember) being an infant. Imagine being held, nurtured, and cuddled. Imagine a space of infinite and unconditional love.
You are an infant and unconditionally loved.
Now visualize growing up, bit by bit. You are a toddler, and still loved. You are a child, and still loved. As you grow, you also grow in independence. You are cuddled less, and cared for less, but loved just as much. As you grow, visualize that love as a thing you hold within. Visualize that love as a warm, glowing place within you. It was put there in infancy, and there it remains, glowing and warming you. It is fueled by the love given to you by others, and also by the love you give to yourself.
Continue to grow up, and see that glowing love within.
Now see yourself as you are today, and see the warm, glowing ball of love within you, nurturing you, warming you, loving you. Others love you and you love yourself. Visualize the people who love you. See them coming to you, hugging you, kissing you on the cheek, shaking your hand—however they might express themselves. And see that warm glow responding, brightening, in response to the love all around you.
And now go within, and notice that you have the ability to brighten the ball of love by yourself. Look at it, and while looking, love yourself, and notice it glowing brighter and warmer. Praise yourself for the things you’ve done well, and see the brightness. Forgive yourself for small flaws, and notice the warmth. Kiss yourself on the cheek. Stroke your own shoulders. And feel how very loved you are.
And now let the glow shine out. Let it be a part of your aura. It surrounds you. Let yourself be in the world glowing with the aura of being loved. As you move through your day, you are loved. As you do your work, you are loved. Know that this glow is always a part of you.
Happy Beltane
My favorite visual of Beltane is from The Wicker Man. You see? I say to my Pagan friends, they rehearse! Rehearsal may just be the essential step to preventing a maypole from becoming a big ol’ puppy pile. But I’ve never been able to get my people to rehearse. I think they must prefer the puppy pile.
My favorite mythic understanding of Beltane is derived, I think, from Welsh Tradition. It is that Beltane is the New Year of the Goddess. The year, as I see it, is divided, just as the day is divided, into day and night, light and dark. The Goddess Year is the light year; from Beltane to Samhain, and the God Year is the dark year, from Samhain to Beltane. Which explains why there are Pagans who consider Samhain the New Year, and Pagans who consider Beltane the New Year—they’re both right (it’s a dessert topping and a floor polish).
There are all sorts of fun activities associated with Beltane, including (but not limited to) maypoles, bonfires, masques, anonymous outdoor sex, and athletic competitions. Take your pick.
Leap of Faith
Angel: Well, he said I had to take the plunge.
Darla: Into an empty pool?
Angel: Sure. ‘Cause if you had water, you’d get all wet and miss out on all that skull-crushing.
Darla: Maybe he meant another pool.
Angel: Something in a koi pond. They’re very Zen.
…
Angel (ready to leap into the empty pool): I’m either coming back with a cure, or you’re gonna see something kinda funny.
Getting Arthur into college has been a huge leap of faith. A plunge into an empty pool. The Fool walking off a cliff. Kinda Zen. Kinda terrifying.
I couldn’t do it for myself, when I was eighteen. There was no leap of faith because I knew, I knew, that there was nothing down there but skull-crushing. The school I really wanted was in El Paso, but I couldn’t figure out how I could show up in Texas and live there, having never been anywhere. I couldn’t imagine it. I couldn’t…I really didn’t even know that what I was supposed to do was investigate how to make it happen. I didn’t know I was supposed to ask. (And this was pre-Internet, it was a little harder…a lot harder, to do research.) When I narrowed my search to local schools, the “good” one cost twice as much as the other four I looked at. The recruiter there really wanted me. I said it was too much money, and she said Don’t worry, we’ll get the money. But I didn’t see the money. She didn’t say how. The only way to get the money was to enroll; the money was available to students, not applicants. And that was terrifying. I couldn’t do it.
Not for me, no. But for my son. I can do it for him.
It’s easier. I’m older, I’ve done many scary things. I’m more motivated. I have a little bit of money and a job. And there have been times, in choosing to leap, that I’ve been rank terrified; foul-smelling, gut-clenching, ohmygodswhathaveidone scared. It’s SO. MUCH. MONEY. It’s on-the-face-of-it crazy.
I kept looking around. The people I knew who were putting their kids through school didn’t make more (or much more) than me. Some of them had two or three kids in private colleges. If they were doing it, it must be possible for me to do it. I talked to people. I learned. I learned about grants and scholarships and loans and then, y’know, it would get scary again, and then it would be about the leap. About the cliff. And ultimately, I had to say to myself, Do I walk off a cliff for him?
And I do. I’ve spent almost thirty years jealous of the people who went to college while I lived in partnership with my fear. I won’t do it again. I won’t do it to Arthur.
This will either get him an education or you’re gonna see something kinda funny.
AFI Trivia: All solved
The mystery of the lost television trivia is not solved. The AFI Top 100 Trivia is.
Tuesday Trivia: AFI Top 100
Did I do television trivia? I thought I did television trivia last week, but it must have died in the server crash. Anyone remember?
This week I thought we’d do Great Movie Trivia. Every movie is on AFI’s Top 100 Movies (10th Anniversary) list. If we do this again, we’ll use a different list.
1. He’s coming dangerously close to having the amount of money he promised his fiancé he’d raise before marrying her, but he’s in love with someone else.
Solved by Hazel (comment #12).
2. The little girl videotaped herself before her mother killed her.
Solved by Susan of Texas (comment #3) and Roberta (comment #5): TIE
3. “Shut up and deal.”
Solved by Melville (comment #1).
4. Hal Holbrook in a dark parking garage.
Solved by Melville (comment #1).
5. “Dear, what is your first name?”
Solved by Susan of Texas (comment #3) and John Calligy (comment #6).
6. A British reporter wandering through a huge bus lot, narrating into a tape recorder.
Solved by Melville (comment #1) TIE.
7. Drunk, she insists on calling him “Professor,” although he asks her to stop.
Solved by Hogan (comment #2).
Monday non-movie review
I didn’t actually watch any movies this week. I know, right? Anyway, here’s some reviews of some other stuff I’ve been doing.
Arthur and I have been re-watching Angel on DVD. His homework schedule has been light for the first time since entering high school, so I suspended my Netflix account for a month and we’ve been spending “family time” watching 1 or 2 episodes a night, and are currently up to episode 19 (of 22) of season 2.
I got on board late with Buffy and Angel, watching Buffy in reruns after it was all over, and starting Angel reruns from the pilot while season 4 was still in prime time. I fell in love with Angel right away, and really thought it was better than Buffy. On re-viewing, I can see why some people never got bit by the Angel bug. Season 1 is choppy and inconsistent. Some of the episodes are outstanding, but overall, the show struggles to find a voice. In episode 18, though, Faith is brought in. What works is that Faith epitomizes what becomes Angel’s unique voice: The gray area of redemption.
While Buffy battles evil and works to draw a line in the sand, with her always on one side and evil always on the other, Angel is about the fluidity of the line and the place of individuals on either side of it. Angel is a vampire with a soul. Faith is a slayer gone evil. Both can be redeemed. Angel is about regret, remorse, atonement, and vengeance. That last is the tricky one, as season 2 progresses, Angel becomes more interested in fighting the enemy (Wolfram & Hart) than saving souls, and this is all it takes to push him dangerously close to switching sides.
Watching a television series is making me very conscious of the craft of writing. Seeing how a bit of dialogue is inserted for exposition; when it works, when it doesn’t work. There are scenes that are stiff, there are people being told things they already know. Nonetheless, I stand by my contention that Angel is one of the best things ever televised.
Angel: After the Fall is a “season 6” continuation comic book. Despite Joss Whedon’s hand in the plotting, I’m just about ready to give it up. The premise is that the culmination of the grand cliff-hanger battle that ended season 5 was the transporting of the entire city of LA into Hell. The hellish illustration is murky and hard to follow. Characters from time to time shine through, but there’s too much going on. Hell is a busy place; it’s hard to get a feel for what’s important when there are SO MANY demons and so much muck and so much RED.
Duma Key is Stephen King’s latest, and for regular reader of King’s work, it is especially remarkable. I’m not a King fanatic, but I’ve read many of his books, and as far as I know, this is the first one written in a first person voice. It’s a remarkable change for a writer of fifty or so books, and it brings a new sensibility to the pages.
Edgar Freemantle is simply nothing like a King character. He’s something like King—being a middle-aged man recovering from a body-crushing injury—but his voice has never before appeared in a King book. He’s wealthy, down to earth, direct, and confused. He speaks of his pain, his marriage, his daughters, and the growing mystery surrounding his time on Duma Key in an intimate and personal way. His new friend Wireman, his neighbor on Duma Key, is perhaps a more typical and stylized King character, but the friendship has a unique feeling.
Edgar, a construction company owner, was crushed by a crane. He has lost an arm, has a brain injury, and is rehabbing a crushed hip. He has rented a house on an isolated Florida Key to recover and paint. Once there, he gradually learns that there may be a supernatural reason that the prime real estate of Duma Key is relatively uninhabited, and that his own injury may have a supernatural component. Well, we expect this of King, but the horror is not the focus of the novel; the characters are.
The horror side of the plot bears a definite similarity to The Shining; the confluence of psychic people, a violent past, and an isolated location, but that part of the book is not nearly as important as the characters. This is a book about people.
I wrote an extensive review (seriously, 2000 words—what was I thinking?) of The Bond Code by Philip Gardiner at my James Bond site. The book is about the occult influences on Ian Fleming and James Bond. You might be interested.
