I'm fidgety and unfocused today. I don't know what it is. I'm just squirmy and scruffy and unsettled. I didn't shave most of this week, so it looks like I'm trying to grow a beard. That might be a funny thing to surprise my family with in July, when I take the boys to North Carolina.
This weekend has another soccer game for B1, and likely registering B2 for soccer in the fall. I persuaded Exene to let B1 not take a fourth season of soccer, as he could give a rat's ass about it, but B2 will be a natural for it, for sure. Exene has that Teutonic fitness mentality that makes me tired just to think of it. I imagine Hitlerian newsreels like this playing in her head when she contemplates athletics, and I try to insulate the boys from the worst of that impulse, telling B1 "It's okay if you don't want to do an activity. Don't just do it because you think you're supposed to; do it because you want to." Which, I'm sure Exene sees as me subverting her Master Plan for Die Kindern, but I'm really just wanting them to enjoy their childhoods -- I value unstructured time highly, think it's a vital component for kids. Lord knows when adulthood comes around, one finds the fuck structured out of one's life!
Anyway, I'm going to sew up the plot for the screenplay upon revision, make sure everything hits when it's supposed to, that it flows well, all that good stuff.
Beyond that, nothing planned. Weather permitting, I may take the boys biking. We'll see.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Movie: Deadgirl
So, I watched "Deadgirl" last night, part of my recent horror movie filmfest of the past few days, and this one is, by far, the most horrific of the three I just saw. Like squirm-in-your-seat horrific, and also, perhaps, the most classically constructed as a horror story (in the sense of the supernatural leading to the fall of the characters).
That said, it was certainly not a perfect movie, although it was a creative spin on the classic zombie movie narrative (and something I'd actually conceived in the 90s as a story idea, but something I never wrote, because it's just too fucking gross). I'll mention the problems I had with it first...
First, it was too long -- they needed to edit it more tightly. Fewer shots of protagonist Rickie biking around town aimlessly, less time dicking around (pun intended) in the abandoned mental institution. They could've probably trimmed a good 20 minutes off it without consequence.
Second, Rickie (played by Shiloh Fernandez -- there's a name for you) was miscast -- the actor playing him didn't at all convince me as the burnout/loser character he was supposed to be (especially when contrasted with Noah Segan's ghoulish "J.T." and Eric Podnar's dopey "Wheeler" -- those two were perfectly cast and believable in those roles). Fernandez might've come across as weird, but he just didn't fit the burnout/skater/outsider/freak-n-geek character we're supposed to believe he was playing.
Third, Rickie is far too passive of a character in the narrative -- way, way too many shots of him looking on in horror at the admittedly horrific goings-on, or scowling meaningfully at nothing, looking all Walking Wounded. Clearly he's got a lot on his mind, but the story doesn't really give him much to do -- he's perennially railroaded by his out-and-out psychopathic friend, J.T., and rather than really being active in the story, Rickie just coasts along.
I know why they did that -- they wanted Rickie to keep his hands somewhat clean, compared with the horrific hog wallow presented by J.T. and Wheeler. We're supposed to feel some level of sympathy for Rickie, who at least has a modicum of bystanderly compassion in the story, but his half-hearted and half-assed attempts at doing the right thing don't carry much resonance, and since he never really follows through, they are weak, at best. For a protagonist, he's very weak.
Especially when contrasted with J.T., who largely steals the show with his villainy. The wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time, as the primary villain in the movie, J.T. rides roughshod over the story as thoroughly as he does over the other characters -- and that's not a bad thing; it's fun to watch him be disgusting and horrible in a human trainwreck kind of way. Clearly Noah Segan was having a blast playing the flat-eyed teen psycho (oh, and I looked him up -- the actor's a Libra. I figured. Librans always have those doll's eyes).
Fourth, the love interest (sorta), JoAnn (played by Candice Accola), is weakly played in the story, so whatever she's supposed to represent to Rickie is lost by the weak characterization of her, so what ultimately happens to her is lessened -- she doesn't have far to fall, because she (and his relationship to Rickie) is only very barely fleshed out. Again, it doesn't convince or persuade beyond a "Oh, sure, what the fuck?" from the audience.
The plot is what the title says it is -- a couple of high school losers find a zombie chick restrained in an abandoned asylum and make her their sex toy/slave. That's it. And it's plenty fucking horrifying, and if they'd just tweaked the script a little here and there, they'd have really nailed it, I think. It does succeed in being incredibly disturbing, and while it may on the face of it appear to be anti-woman, I think it was more accurately anti-man (or anti-teen boy, anyway) -- because the women characters in the movie (including the zombie Deadgirl) are actually sympathetic, compared with the guy characters, who are all creeps and weirdos (with the exception of ineffectual Rickie, who just manages to wince emotionally now and again, and, at least up to a point, display some modicum of decency).
A few more revisions to tighten the story up, a more sharply-written script (better dialogue and characterizations) and a better-cast Rickie would, I think, have made it a canonical horror movie. As such, it emerges as a horrific movie with a lot of dark promise.
I would advise against seeing it if you are a horror movie tourist -- if you enjoy horror movies, you'll be ready for it (and still horrified), but if you're just a tourist, it'll freak you out for sure. I will say that the gore elements of it are understated, but the implications of what's going on are damned horrific.
That said, it was certainly not a perfect movie, although it was a creative spin on the classic zombie movie narrative (and something I'd actually conceived in the 90s as a story idea, but something I never wrote, because it's just too fucking gross). I'll mention the problems I had with it first...
First, it was too long -- they needed to edit it more tightly. Fewer shots of protagonist Rickie biking around town aimlessly, less time dicking around (pun intended) in the abandoned mental institution. They could've probably trimmed a good 20 minutes off it without consequence.
Second, Rickie (played by Shiloh Fernandez -- there's a name for you) was miscast -- the actor playing him didn't at all convince me as the burnout/loser character he was supposed to be (especially when contrasted with Noah Segan's ghoulish "J.T." and Eric Podnar's dopey "Wheeler" -- those two were perfectly cast and believable in those roles). Fernandez might've come across as weird, but he just didn't fit the burnout/skater/outsider/freak-n-geek character we're supposed to believe he was playing.
Third, Rickie is far too passive of a character in the narrative -- way, way too many shots of him looking on in horror at the admittedly horrific goings-on, or scowling meaningfully at nothing, looking all Walking Wounded. Clearly he's got a lot on his mind, but the story doesn't really give him much to do -- he's perennially railroaded by his out-and-out psychopathic friend, J.T., and rather than really being active in the story, Rickie just coasts along.
I know why they did that -- they wanted Rickie to keep his hands somewhat clean, compared with the horrific hog wallow presented by J.T. and Wheeler. We're supposed to feel some level of sympathy for Rickie, who at least has a modicum of bystanderly compassion in the story, but his half-hearted and half-assed attempts at doing the right thing don't carry much resonance, and since he never really follows through, they are weak, at best. For a protagonist, he's very weak.
Especially when contrasted with J.T., who largely steals the show with his villainy. The wrong person in the wrong place at the wrong time, as the primary villain in the movie, J.T. rides roughshod over the story as thoroughly as he does over the other characters -- and that's not a bad thing; it's fun to watch him be disgusting and horrible in a human trainwreck kind of way. Clearly Noah Segan was having a blast playing the flat-eyed teen psycho (oh, and I looked him up -- the actor's a Libra. I figured. Librans always have those doll's eyes).
Fourth, the love interest (sorta), JoAnn (played by Candice Accola), is weakly played in the story, so whatever she's supposed to represent to Rickie is lost by the weak characterization of her, so what ultimately happens to her is lessened -- she doesn't have far to fall, because she (and his relationship to Rickie) is only very barely fleshed out. Again, it doesn't convince or persuade beyond a "Oh, sure, what the fuck?" from the audience.
The plot is what the title says it is -- a couple of high school losers find a zombie chick restrained in an abandoned asylum and make her their sex toy/slave. That's it. And it's plenty fucking horrifying, and if they'd just tweaked the script a little here and there, they'd have really nailed it, I think. It does succeed in being incredibly disturbing, and while it may on the face of it appear to be anti-woman, I think it was more accurately anti-man (or anti-teen boy, anyway) -- because the women characters in the movie (including the zombie Deadgirl) are actually sympathetic, compared with the guy characters, who are all creeps and weirdos (with the exception of ineffectual Rickie, who just manages to wince emotionally now and again, and, at least up to a point, display some modicum of decency).
A few more revisions to tighten the story up, a more sharply-written script (better dialogue and characterizations) and a better-cast Rickie would, I think, have made it a canonical horror movie. As such, it emerges as a horrific movie with a lot of dark promise.
I would advise against seeing it if you are a horror movie tourist -- if you enjoy horror movies, you'll be ready for it (and still horrified), but if you're just a tourist, it'll freak you out for sure. I will say that the gore elements of it are understated, but the implications of what's going on are damned horrific.
Today...
Well, well, well. Another April 30 is upon me. Such a fateful day. 120th day of the year, leaving us a tidy 245 days left in this year. What happened today in history, hmmm?
1789 – On the balcony of Federal Hall on Wall Street in New York City, George Washington takes the oath of office to become the first elected President of the United States.
1927 – Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford become the first celebrities to leave their footprints in concrete at Grauman's Chinese Theater in Hollywood.
1933 – Willie Nelson, American musician
1943 – World War II: Operation Mincemeat: The submarine HMS Seraph surfaces in the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Spain to deposit a dead man planted with false invasion plans and dressed as a British military intelligence officer.
1945 – World War II: Fuehrerbunker: Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun commit suicide after being married for one day. Soviet soldiers raise the Victory Banner over the Reichstag building.
1954 – Jane Campion, New Zealand film director
1956 – Lars von Trier, Danish film director
1975 – Fall of Saigon (or Liberation of Saigon from the Communist perspective): Communist forces gain control of Saigon. The Vietnam War formally ends with the unconditional surrender of South Vietnamese president Duong Van Minh.
1982 – Kirsten Dunst, American actress
1789 – On the balcony of Federal Hall on Wall Street in New York City, George Washington takes the oath of office to become the first elected President of the United States.
1927 – Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford become the first celebrities to leave their footprints in concrete at Grauman's Chinese Theater in Hollywood.
1933 – Willie Nelson, American musician
1943 – World War II: Operation Mincemeat: The submarine HMS Seraph surfaces in the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Spain to deposit a dead man planted with false invasion plans and dressed as a British military intelligence officer.
1945 – World War II: Fuehrerbunker: Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun commit suicide after being married for one day. Soviet soldiers raise the Victory Banner over the Reichstag building.
1954 – Jane Campion, New Zealand film director
1956 – Lars von Trier, Danish film director
1975 – Fall of Saigon (or Liberation of Saigon from the Communist perspective): Communist forces gain control of Saigon. The Vietnam War formally ends with the unconditional surrender of South Vietnamese president Duong Van Minh.
1982 – Kirsten Dunst, American actress
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Movie: The Fantastic Mr. Fox
I watched "The Fantastic Mr. Fox" at long last, and enjoyed it, almost despite it being a West Anderson movie. I say that because Anderson's made a career out of dishing out a certain type of ambiance in his works -- trying out-Salinger Salinger, is how I typically put it. Not so much with "Bottle Rocket," but from "Rushmore" onward, he ladles that kind of quirkily patrician kind of world that conjures up the Glass Family that so occupied Salinger. J.D. Salinger's taut style of writing certainly influenced me in the 90s, when I read most of his books, but to see it served up onscreen (albeit somewhat adulterated by way of Anderson) is, somehow, I don't know -- arch?
He must be a fun and/or indulgent director, as he has his usual band of actors who appear eager to work with him again and again (Tim Burton has that same quality).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=spCknVcaSHg
Anyway, "...Fox" is fun and enjoyable because while you can't for a moment ignore that it's a Wes Anderson movie, the stop-motion and Roald Dahl source material for it renders it palatable and charming. For example, having George Clooney voice Mr. Fox might seem questionable, since the man is so busy being (or trying to be) Cary Grant Lite that he can't occupy any scene without derailing it -- but since it was just his voice, it lets the character of Mr. Fox come through more than it otherwise would have. Quite the opposite with Bill Murray as the Mr. Badger -- I love Bill Murray, but he kind of overwhelms his character a bit -- you can just SEE Murray in the character so much, which amuses me. Bill Murray is so Bill Murray that even as just a voice, he possesses anything he touches.
The plot of the movie pits the Foxes against three farmers, and it escalates through the course of the story (and, I think, drags a bit in the third act -- I found myself getting a bit fidgety, and being surprised that it's only 87 minutes long -- it felt a bit longer owing to that third act). But it's dryly funny and clever and cute and is a cool effort. My boys loved it and wanted to watch it again and again. I think Anderson was smart to avoid lapsing completely into self-parody with it -- the venue change let him do his thing without it appearing that he was doing his same old thing (and yet, yes, he was doing his same old thing, but I didn't care, because I enjoyed the movie a great deal). The power of stop-motion puppetry! Never, ever underestimate the power of puppets, where kids are concerned!
Oh, and I can instantly irk B1 just by imitating Mr. Fox's call-sign that he does (you can hear it at :04 in the trailer linked above). I do it and he says (in this admonishing, irritated tone) "Dadddddyy. Don't. Do. That!"
He must be a fun and/or indulgent director, as he has his usual band of actors who appear eager to work with him again and again (Tim Burton has that same quality).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=spCknVcaSHg
Anyway, "...Fox" is fun and enjoyable because while you can't for a moment ignore that it's a Wes Anderson movie, the stop-motion and Roald Dahl source material for it renders it palatable and charming. For example, having George Clooney voice Mr. Fox might seem questionable, since the man is so busy being (or trying to be) Cary Grant Lite that he can't occupy any scene without derailing it -- but since it was just his voice, it lets the character of Mr. Fox come through more than it otherwise would have. Quite the opposite with Bill Murray as the Mr. Badger -- I love Bill Murray, but he kind of overwhelms his character a bit -- you can just SEE Murray in the character so much, which amuses me. Bill Murray is so Bill Murray that even as just a voice, he possesses anything he touches.
The plot of the movie pits the Foxes against three farmers, and it escalates through the course of the story (and, I think, drags a bit in the third act -- I found myself getting a bit fidgety, and being surprised that it's only 87 minutes long -- it felt a bit longer owing to that third act). But it's dryly funny and clever and cute and is a cool effort. My boys loved it and wanted to watch it again and again. I think Anderson was smart to avoid lapsing completely into self-parody with it -- the venue change let him do his thing without it appearing that he was doing his same old thing (and yet, yes, he was doing his same old thing, but I didn't care, because I enjoyed the movie a great deal). The power of stop-motion puppetry! Never, ever underestimate the power of puppets, where kids are concerned!
Oh, and I can instantly irk B1 just by imitating Mr. Fox's call-sign that he does (you can hear it at :04 in the trailer linked above). I do it and he says (in this admonishing, irritated tone) "Dadddddyy. Don't. Do. That!"
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Fauxthenticity
I was pleased to see "fauxthenticity" published. Another word of mine added to the dyslexicon!
Movie: Drag Me To Hell
I watched "Drag Me To Hell" last night (no, not a documentary of my life of the past ten years, although the title does make me think of that) -- and it was fun. I watched the unrated version. I mean, it's GROSS, but it's so over-the-top that you can only laugh at it. Sam Raimi seems to channel "Evil Dead 2" in a big way with it, that kind of madcap, hyperkinetic horror (or is it simply his directing style?) that is Raimi's trademark.
It's quite a contrast from "The House of the Devil," which was far more serious, and was more quietly and earnestly horrific (and with a much-smaller budget), whereas DMTH was just having a good time delivering the shock and awe kind of stuff.
As intended, I sympathized with the cutie Alison Lohman in the role of Christine Brown, hapless loan officer at a bank who denies an old Gypsy woman a loan and gets cursed for her troubles. Things go from bad to worse for her, leading to all sorts of embarrassments and woes.
The diminutive Lohman carried off her role very well, and she literally goes through hell in the course of the movie, which adheres to classic horror tropes throughout. Her boyfriend, Apple pitchman-turned-guy-trying-to-be-a-regular actor, Jason Hill, does his part, although he's always distracting to me. I always think "Hey, Apple Guy!" I'm sure he hates that, but that's what he gets.
Anyway, the movie has some genuinely horrific/gross moments in it, but plenty of laughably scary-dumb moments in it, too (not laughing at per se, so much as laughing with -- I mean, when a would-be sacrificial goat gets demon-possessed and starts spouting demon-speak, what can you do BUT laugh?) Clearly, while wanting to deliver a straightforward horror romp, Raimi and company didn't take themselves TOO seriously. When the little kitten's in the scene, you know what's going to happen -- indeed, I said "Here, Kitty Kitty" almost the same moment Lohman's character did.
I knew where it was all going, but enjoyed the ride, all the same. It's curious for me to contrast this movie with the other one (it's kind of like contrasting the apocalyptic movies "2012" and "The Road" -- while ostensibly dealing with the same subject matter, one is lighthearted and gleeful, the latter is as serious as a heart attack).
Gettin' down and dirty with Alison Lohman.
Which one did I like better? I don't know. This one was more FUN, if that makes any sense, although in terms of delivering creepiness and a generally horrific vibe, "The House..." may have delivered more out-and-out chills.
It's quite a contrast from "The House of the Devil," which was far more serious, and was more quietly and earnestly horrific (and with a much-smaller budget), whereas DMTH was just having a good time delivering the shock and awe kind of stuff.
As intended, I sympathized with the cutie Alison Lohman in the role of Christine Brown, hapless loan officer at a bank who denies an old Gypsy woman a loan and gets cursed for her troubles. Things go from bad to worse for her, leading to all sorts of embarrassments and woes.
The diminutive Lohman carried off her role very well, and she literally goes through hell in the course of the movie, which adheres to classic horror tropes throughout. Her boyfriend, Apple pitchman-turned-guy-trying-to-be-a-regular actor, Jason Hill, does his part, although he's always distracting to me. I always think "Hey, Apple Guy!" I'm sure he hates that, but that's what he gets.
Anyway, the movie has some genuinely horrific/gross moments in it, but plenty of laughably scary-dumb moments in it, too (not laughing at per se, so much as laughing with -- I mean, when a would-be sacrificial goat gets demon-possessed and starts spouting demon-speak, what can you do BUT laugh?) Clearly, while wanting to deliver a straightforward horror romp, Raimi and company didn't take themselves TOO seriously. When the little kitten's in the scene, you know what's going to happen -- indeed, I said "Here, Kitty Kitty" almost the same moment Lohman's character did.
I knew where it was all going, but enjoyed the ride, all the same. It's curious for me to contrast this movie with the other one (it's kind of like contrasting the apocalyptic movies "2012" and "The Road" -- while ostensibly dealing with the same subject matter, one is lighthearted and gleeful, the latter is as serious as a heart attack).
Gettin' down and dirty with Alison Lohman.Which one did I like better? I don't know. This one was more FUN, if that makes any sense, although in terms of delivering creepiness and a generally horrific vibe, "The House..." may have delivered more out-and-out chills.
Drink: Fair & Balanced
I had a dream last night where I invented a cocktail called a "Fair & Balanced" -- in mockery of Fox News and company. In the dream, I was talking with some mainstream journalists, and we were mocking how crappy Fox News was, and I came up with the Fair & Balanced as a cocktail in mockery of them, which the journalists began guzzling. While I'm pleased that my twisted brain comes up with drink recipes in its sleep, unfortunately, I can't remember the whole recipe!
Fair & Balanced
Purple Kool-Aid
Seven-Up
1 shot of vodka
1 shot of Chambord
3 dashes of bitters
Served in a Collins glass, over plenty of ice.
The whole point of it was that it was an unfair and unbalanced cocktail, but I can't remember what made it so.
Fair & Balanced
Purple Kool-Aid
Seven-Up
1 shot of vodka
1 shot of Chambord
3 dashes of bitters
Served in a Collins glass, over plenty of ice.
The whole point of it was that it was an unfair and unbalanced cocktail, but I can't remember what made it so.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Movie: The House of the Devil
I watched "The House of the Devil" the other night, and liked it well enough. An indie horror flick, very self-consciously crafted to appear to have been shot in, say, the mid-80s, with the simplest of touches -- characters' hairstyles, the mom jeans, the rotary dial telephones, the big Walkman -- and it looks very much like it could've been a movie of that time.
It delivered some good atmosphere and some startling moments, although I felt that too much time was spent creating the mood and when things get out of hand, they get out of hand almost too quickly for it to really work properly, in terms of pacing, like going from too little to too much all at once.
Also, the meta-factoid at the beginning basically throws any proper suspense out the window -- not having context for what was happening might've made it work better on the face of things.
As an exercise in cinematic style (e.g., simulating an 80s horror movie), they definitely hit all the marks properly. As a horror movie itself, I don't know if it'll qualify as a classic of the genre.
I don't know if this was deliberate on the part of the director or not, but there's a lot of eating in the movie -- it kind of draws attention to itself, like business for the characters to do. It becomes a little distracting, all the nibbling that goes on. Maybe they wanted the characters to have more to do than just, say, smoke (which some of them do, too). Not sure. But it was a little distracting for me.
Also, the overall conceit of the story was less than I'd hoped for, and the payoff didn't quite deliver for me. Like they ended at both a good and a bad point, saying more by showing less, but also kind of copping out (just because of the rushed elements of horror in it making the payoff feel perhaps a bit contrived).
Greta Gerwig (one of my indie film crushes, right up there with Parker Posey) is in it, in a small role as the protagonist's friend.
It delivered some good atmosphere and some startling moments, although I felt that too much time was spent creating the mood and when things get out of hand, they get out of hand almost too quickly for it to really work properly, in terms of pacing, like going from too little to too much all at once.
Also, the meta-factoid at the beginning basically throws any proper suspense out the window -- not having context for what was happening might've made it work better on the face of things.
As an exercise in cinematic style (e.g., simulating an 80s horror movie), they definitely hit all the marks properly. As a horror movie itself, I don't know if it'll qualify as a classic of the genre.
I don't know if this was deliberate on the part of the director or not, but there's a lot of eating in the movie -- it kind of draws attention to itself, like business for the characters to do. It becomes a little distracting, all the nibbling that goes on. Maybe they wanted the characters to have more to do than just, say, smoke (which some of them do, too). Not sure. But it was a little distracting for me.
Also, the overall conceit of the story was less than I'd hoped for, and the payoff didn't quite deliver for me. Like they ended at both a good and a bad point, saying more by showing less, but also kind of copping out (just because of the rushed elements of horror in it making the payoff feel perhaps a bit contrived).
Greta Gerwig (one of my indie film crushes, right up there with Parker Posey) is in it, in a small role as the protagonist's friend.
Cynical, Cyclical
Sometimes B1 will ask me about something, and I'm torn between giving him the officially accepted(tm) notion of something, and my own cynical take on it. On one hand, I think he shouldn't be burdened with cynicism as a child; but, on the other hand, the alternative is, what, being naive and taking it on the chin?
My life experience to date has made me pretty cynical, I guess. Which is weird, because I still believe in love, in romantic notions -- it's just that I see so little of it around me day-to-day that I think I perhaps adopted cynicism as a kind of armor against the world. It's ironic to me how cynicism attained a negative connotation, and when it did. It walked hand in hand with the advent of industrialism and modernity. Before then, the classic (and accurate) concept of the Cynics was retained. What changed in the world in the 19th century to lead to a negative view of the Cynics?
It's almost like how "conspiracy theorist" evolved as a catch-all term to invalidate a contrary position on something. Like someone can dismiss you by saying "Oh, you're just so cynical" -- without actually addressing what you're talking or thinking about.
Saying something like "It's not what you know, it's who you know" gets you branded as a cynic, even though, in practice, more often than not, it's fucking true.
Anyway, B1 is so sweet, he has this conception of how the world works, and when things don't go his way, he's very reflective about it in a sweet and innocent way -- he reads the best in people (something, sadly, I don't do -- I've been told often enough that I read the worst in people) -- and when people fail him, he tries to figure it out in a kind and rational way, whereas my (ooh!) cynical impulse is to blow it off as a typical result of how people behave toward one another.
For now, I just let him form his own conclusions about things without seasoning them with my cynicism -- for now, B1 can detect my sarcasm rather well and will say "You're just being sarcastic, Daddy." He doesn't yet know that I'm damned cynical, too -- and that I don't think that's a bad thing, either.
There is the way the world works, and the way the world should work, and those ways seldom cross -- and worse, people often fail to acknowledge or admit that this is how the world is actually working. I see that and feel a good deal of pathos.
It's not an easy path to be an open-hearted cynic, let me tell you! My heart isn't hardened by the world, although it should be, given various things I've encountered in my day. I stay young at heart, even while my cynical instincts are always saying "See? I toldja so, Stooopid."
My life experience to date has made me pretty cynical, I guess. Which is weird, because I still believe in love, in romantic notions -- it's just that I see so little of it around me day-to-day that I think I perhaps adopted cynicism as a kind of armor against the world. It's ironic to me how cynicism attained a negative connotation, and when it did. It walked hand in hand with the advent of industrialism and modernity. Before then, the classic (and accurate) concept of the Cynics was retained. What changed in the world in the 19th century to lead to a negative view of the Cynics?
It's almost like how "conspiracy theorist" evolved as a catch-all term to invalidate a contrary position on something. Like someone can dismiss you by saying "Oh, you're just so cynical" -- without actually addressing what you're talking or thinking about.
Saying something like "It's not what you know, it's who you know" gets you branded as a cynic, even though, in practice, more often than not, it's fucking true.
Anyway, B1 is so sweet, he has this conception of how the world works, and when things don't go his way, he's very reflective about it in a sweet and innocent way -- he reads the best in people (something, sadly, I don't do -- I've been told often enough that I read the worst in people) -- and when people fail him, he tries to figure it out in a kind and rational way, whereas my (ooh!) cynical impulse is to blow it off as a typical result of how people behave toward one another.
For now, I just let him form his own conclusions about things without seasoning them with my cynicism -- for now, B1 can detect my sarcasm rather well and will say "You're just being sarcastic, Daddy." He doesn't yet know that I'm damned cynical, too -- and that I don't think that's a bad thing, either.
There is the way the world works, and the way the world should work, and those ways seldom cross -- and worse, people often fail to acknowledge or admit that this is how the world is actually working. I see that and feel a good deal of pathos.
It's not an easy path to be an open-hearted cynic, let me tell you! My heart isn't hardened by the world, although it should be, given various things I've encountered in my day. I stay young at heart, even while my cynical instincts are always saying "See? I toldja so, Stooopid."
Upchuck Truck
I get parent points for last night, for quick thinking while on Emergency Puke Patrol. B1 was a little pukey last night from what I think is the flu (the real flu, mind you, not "stomach flu"). All the coughing I think makes his tummy sensitive. Anyway, he's on the top bunk, and I'm on the bottom bunk, and I'm hearing him coughing (I'd given him cough medicine earlier, but it hadn't kicked in, yet), and I hear him kind of gag, and I'm like "Are you gonna puke, Buddy?" and he's like "Yeah." But I can tell that he's not gonna make it down the bunk in time to reach the bathroom (and Exene's in there showering, anyway), so I snag a plastic dump truck that's in reach and I hand it up in time for B1 to hurl in it. He fills it up nicely, and I'm like "Whew." (because I know B1 would likely just lean over the side and puke over it in a pinch). So, I tell him "Hold the truck; keep it level and steady." and then I ran and got some paper towels and a mixing bowl and he swabbed his face with the towels and I swapped out the dump truck for a mixing bowl. Then I cleaned out the dump truck in the kitchen sink, grateful that the truck had a solid bed in the back, therefore leakproof. Whew! I cleaned it out and sterilized it and left it on the kitchen floor.
The next morning, B2 came in and said "Heyyy, what's my dump truck doing in here?" and I said "Oh, I think the pixies must've taken it for a spin." and He looked around suspiciously, said "Pixies?"
I do feel like writing the company and thanking them for the quality toy dump truck, which proved very good at handling the pukeload of an 8-year-old.
The next morning, B2 came in and said "Heyyy, what's my dump truck doing in here?" and I said "Oh, I think the pixies must've taken it for a spin." and He looked around suspiciously, said "Pixies?"
I do feel like writing the company and thanking them for the quality toy dump truck, which proved very good at handling the pukeload of an 8-year-old.
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