Molly Burkhart's Blog, page 4
May 23, 2014
Dear Charlie:
Ha! Got busy! Sorry!
But I have a funny for you. I finally got to make the dumbest awesome joke ever. A little backstory for you:
Okay, so about two months ago, we were planning this event in May at a Fourth Friday event in a neighboring town. We knew we wanted it to be a saloon show, but with several short skits, rather than one long, cohesive show. So, the lady in charge asked if some of us would write the skits.
Well, I got to thinking about that great old Carol Burnett Show sketch with Harvey Korman and Sammy Davis, Jr. where Korman is the sheriff whose deputy just left him (and who is now a drinking mess) and Sammy Davis, Jr. plays his old nearly-deputy who comes back to laugh at him because now he's deputy for Wyatt Earp. It's all about male insecurity and such and is just priceless. So I wrote an updated version of that, and it was lots of fun.
Then, about a month ago, we find out we only have one guy joining us this month. And he's in his 90s. *sigh*
Just like that, we have to rewrite all our sketches for all-girl roles, and it goes from male insecurity to jokes about not being able to park and being irritated at men for not asking directions. And bloody hell, but somehow I end up cast as the drunk sheriff.
Part of the joke is a whole "where's ma gun?" and "on your hip" joke, so for the role, I decided to just stick my gun in my jeans pocket with my shirt kinda rucked up over it. However, there was also a sheriff in the other skit, so I ended up being the sheriff in that one, too, so I ended up having to keep my gun in my pocket the whole darn night.
So fastforward to tonight, which was show night.
It's muggy as hell outside, and we've already done our dances like a million times (no more than three each, but refer back to that "muggy as hell" thing) and both skits twice each, so we're all a little loopy at this point, and one of the saloon girls comes over and is dancing like right up on me (remember that whole "drunk sheriff" thing), trying to knock me over.
And finally, the moment is upon me. I finally get to say THE DUMBEST AWESOME JOKE EVER.
"That really is a gun in my pocket. I'm not happy to see you."
...
...
Thank you. Don't forget to tip your waitress. *mic drop*
But I have a funny for you. I finally got to make the dumbest awesome joke ever. A little backstory for you:
Okay, so about two months ago, we were planning this event in May at a Fourth Friday event in a neighboring town. We knew we wanted it to be a saloon show, but with several short skits, rather than one long, cohesive show. So, the lady in charge asked if some of us would write the skits.
Well, I got to thinking about that great old Carol Burnett Show sketch with Harvey Korman and Sammy Davis, Jr. where Korman is the sheriff whose deputy just left him (and who is now a drinking mess) and Sammy Davis, Jr. plays his old nearly-deputy who comes back to laugh at him because now he's deputy for Wyatt Earp. It's all about male insecurity and such and is just priceless. So I wrote an updated version of that, and it was lots of fun.
Then, about a month ago, we find out we only have one guy joining us this month. And he's in his 90s. *sigh*
Just like that, we have to rewrite all our sketches for all-girl roles, and it goes from male insecurity to jokes about not being able to park and being irritated at men for not asking directions. And bloody hell, but somehow I end up cast as the drunk sheriff.
Part of the joke is a whole "where's ma gun?" and "on your hip" joke, so for the role, I decided to just stick my gun in my jeans pocket with my shirt kinda rucked up over it. However, there was also a sheriff in the other skit, so I ended up being the sheriff in that one, too, so I ended up having to keep my gun in my pocket the whole darn night.
So fastforward to tonight, which was show night.
It's muggy as hell outside, and we've already done our dances like a million times (no more than three each, but refer back to that "muggy as hell" thing) and both skits twice each, so we're all a little loopy at this point, and one of the saloon girls comes over and is dancing like right up on me (remember that whole "drunk sheriff" thing), trying to knock me over.
And finally, the moment is upon me. I finally get to say THE DUMBEST AWESOME JOKE EVER.
"That really is a gun in my pocket. I'm not happy to see you."
...
...
Thank you. Don't forget to tip your waitress. *mic drop*
April 10, 2014
Dear Charlie:
I might be a seriously lucky person.
See, I had one of those sitcom kind of days yesterday. One of those days where a bunch of seemingly random events just kinda throw themselves at you, but by the end of the day, everything's stitched up nicely. I sort of blame my beloved sister for it, too.
See, a couple of weeks ago, she made a passing reference to one of our favorite movies from our youth, The Man from Snowy River. I don't think she meant to. She was talking about an on-line friend's pet or something, which was named Glory Be. Of course, that immediately triggered the "Glory be! Willya lookit that!" from the big "hero comes home" moment in the movie.
Keep in mind that it's probably been twenty years since I watched it. My mind is... weirdly selective with what it chooses to keep.
At any rate, that's been percolating ever since, and I really wanted to watch the flick. I hadn't seen it for half of forever and wanted to see if it still held up. I remember it fondly -- the music is spectacular, the scenery is glorious, and that riding-damn-near-vertically-down-a-mountain scene is absolutely nuts -- but sometimes you revisit movies from your youth and think, "Hm. Probably should've just kept on remembering fondly."
Finally, when my paycheck hit yesterday, I told myself I'd hit Vintage Stock and see if they had a copy. They sell used flicks and have a pretty good variety between the two stores in town. Surely one or the other had it. In fact, I'd just call and see, rather than stopping at one or the other in case I picked the wrong one (which I totally would because I'm not lucky in 50/50 scenarios).
So I called the one closest to work in hopes of being able to just stop by on the way home, rather than having to go all the way across town. The guy on the phone looked it up in the computer and said that inventory said they had a copy, but if I didn't mind holding, he'd go look just to make sure. I didn't mind. Unfortunately, when he came back, he said that it wasn't on the shelf. It might be in one of the "four for $20" bins, but they aren't in any kind of order. I told him that was fine; I'd just call the other store. No way did I expect him to even glance through that kind of hodgepodge.
So I called the other store, who said they didn't have any in, but the computer said the other store did. Ha! I know, right? I laughed and explained the situation, and they laughed and apologized and offered to order it for me if I wanted. I figured I'd probably get it quicker if I ordered off Amazon (and might get it cheaper, even with shipping), so I declined.
Ugh. Goodbye instant gratification. I had my heart set on watching it when I got home, but it didn't look like that would happen.
However....
Yeah. On the off chance that it WAS in the bargain bins, I stopped by the first store on my way home. I figured I'd flip through quickly and see if I caught it. Also, I'd have bet dollars to pesos that the guy only checked the M section of shelves, and it was quite possible that it was filed under S. I hadn't seen the cover in a while, but I was pretty sure "The Man from" was relatively small while "SNOWY RIVER" was huge.
I walked in and immediately set to the bins. They're not like the $5 bins at Wal-mart where everything's just thrown in. These were at least side-by-side, but very few were labelled across the top, so I pretty much had to flip through each one. I went through the four or five bins across the top, but I was in a skirt, so I didn't think it a good idea to get down on the floor and look through the two or three below. Instead, I went to the M shelves and looked through every single one, just in case. No dice.
So I headed further down the aisle, looking for the S's. Just before I got there, the little guy (early twenties, maybe) from behind the counter finished up with a customer and came around to ask if I needed any help. I gave him the highlights from earlier in the day and shrugged. No big deal if I couldn't find it.
He was a good kid. He fully understood the "instant gratification" urge and offered to dig through the lower bins. I demurred and explained that I'd just check the Ss and be done with it, but he was all determined. Just as he crouched down, I got to the right section and there it was. Bam. Instant gratification!
So I go to the counter to pay, and while I was there, I asked if he happened to know off the top of his head if they had the new Galactus comic, Cataclysm. I mentioned it a while back on my Twitter feed, but I hadn't actively gone looking for it. I like Galactus well enough -- dude eats planets! -- but I wasn't heartset on it.
The kid said he didn't know for sure, but he really didn't "do" comics, so I could feel free to go look. I laughed and said if I hit the comics section, I'd spend my whole paycheck. Then, out of nowhere, he said he'd always kinda wanted to get into comics. He just didn't know where to start.
It occurred to me later that he sounded a bit hesitant. I wish I'd noticed at the time.
Anyway, I grinned and told him that if he was just looking for entertainment, he couldn't go wrong with Deadpool. He didn't know much about that, so I next suggested the Hellboy comics (or anything by Mike Mignola) because they have pretty good writing. He said he'd always kind of heard that they weren't the best written, then admitted that he might have gotten that idea from watching the movies. Heh, I had to disagree with him there because I loved the movies, but I did admit that they had more of Guillermo del Toro's fantasy genius than Mignola's epic scale.
Then I told him not to even get me started because I'd be there all night. He laughed and wanted to keep talking, but he did have other customers and I didn't want to be a pest, so I thanked him kindly for his willingness to help (and to chat about comics, which is always fun) and left.
When I got home, I popped in my new DVD and, as I usually do, headed to Cracked.com, where I stumbled across this article. That article is about fan communities that apparently hate their fans, and one of those communities is apparently comics fans.
Do what now?
Because yeah, I have never had a bad comics conversation. I'm not the most studied comics fan. We didn't have a lot of opportunity to get them when I was a kid, so it was really college before I started reading and gaining a good knowledge foundation about comics in general, and I really only started collecting a few years back. I worked at a Domino's up from an epic little comics shop for a while, and even though I just kinda wandered around like a kid in a candy store most of the time, not sure what I wanted other than that I wanted everything, no one ever snubbed me. No one ever accused me of not being a "real" comics fan. The guys that worked there treated me like any other comics fan, chatting and answering questions and making suggestions and having a good old time.
I mean, c'mon. We're all surrounded by one of the things we love most in the world. Why be snooty about it?
And any time I've stumbled into a comics conversation just out and about, I've been welcomed in with open arms. As I said when I started this post, I guess I've just been incredibly lucky in the comics fans I've bumped into, because I love bumping into comics fans. Always have a good time, there.
And then I remembered that little bit of hesitation from the kid at Vintage Stock. I mean, they sell comics there, and those stores are part of a pretty small set of brick-and-mortar places in this area where you can actually go in and buy comics, so I guess it's pretty generally accepted that the people behind the counter know comics. I even assumed as much myself when I asked if he knew some random comic off the top of his head.
It occurred to me that perhaps he'd mentioned wanting to "get into" comics to someone else and been snarked at for it. Poor kid. If so, it's really no wonder he wanted to keep talking to someone who was excited to talk about it and make suggestions. I kinda wish, even now, that I'd asked what he was interested in and made more personalized suggestions rather than just saying the first things that popped into my mind (which were, of course, the ones I like).
But it all started because of a wild goose chase for a thirty-year-old movie brought to mind by a passing reference to a farm animal's unusual and catchy name.
Total sitcom day.
Oh, and the movie? Totally held up. Watching it was like coming home. Love it.
See, I had one of those sitcom kind of days yesterday. One of those days where a bunch of seemingly random events just kinda throw themselves at you, but by the end of the day, everything's stitched up nicely. I sort of blame my beloved sister for it, too.
See, a couple of weeks ago, she made a passing reference to one of our favorite movies from our youth, The Man from Snowy River. I don't think she meant to. She was talking about an on-line friend's pet or something, which was named Glory Be. Of course, that immediately triggered the "Glory be! Willya lookit that!" from the big "hero comes home" moment in the movie.
Keep in mind that it's probably been twenty years since I watched it. My mind is... weirdly selective with what it chooses to keep.
At any rate, that's been percolating ever since, and I really wanted to watch the flick. I hadn't seen it for half of forever and wanted to see if it still held up. I remember it fondly -- the music is spectacular, the scenery is glorious, and that riding-damn-near-vertically-down-a-mountain scene is absolutely nuts -- but sometimes you revisit movies from your youth and think, "Hm. Probably should've just kept on remembering fondly."
Finally, when my paycheck hit yesterday, I told myself I'd hit Vintage Stock and see if they had a copy. They sell used flicks and have a pretty good variety between the two stores in town. Surely one or the other had it. In fact, I'd just call and see, rather than stopping at one or the other in case I picked the wrong one (which I totally would because I'm not lucky in 50/50 scenarios).
So I called the one closest to work in hopes of being able to just stop by on the way home, rather than having to go all the way across town. The guy on the phone looked it up in the computer and said that inventory said they had a copy, but if I didn't mind holding, he'd go look just to make sure. I didn't mind. Unfortunately, when he came back, he said that it wasn't on the shelf. It might be in one of the "four for $20" bins, but they aren't in any kind of order. I told him that was fine; I'd just call the other store. No way did I expect him to even glance through that kind of hodgepodge.
So I called the other store, who said they didn't have any in, but the computer said the other store did. Ha! I know, right? I laughed and explained the situation, and they laughed and apologized and offered to order it for me if I wanted. I figured I'd probably get it quicker if I ordered off Amazon (and might get it cheaper, even with shipping), so I declined.
Ugh. Goodbye instant gratification. I had my heart set on watching it when I got home, but it didn't look like that would happen.
However....
Yeah. On the off chance that it WAS in the bargain bins, I stopped by the first store on my way home. I figured I'd flip through quickly and see if I caught it. Also, I'd have bet dollars to pesos that the guy only checked the M section of shelves, and it was quite possible that it was filed under S. I hadn't seen the cover in a while, but I was pretty sure "The Man from" was relatively small while "SNOWY RIVER" was huge.
I walked in and immediately set to the bins. They're not like the $5 bins at Wal-mart where everything's just thrown in. These were at least side-by-side, but very few were labelled across the top, so I pretty much had to flip through each one. I went through the four or five bins across the top, but I was in a skirt, so I didn't think it a good idea to get down on the floor and look through the two or three below. Instead, I went to the M shelves and looked through every single one, just in case. No dice.
So I headed further down the aisle, looking for the S's. Just before I got there, the little guy (early twenties, maybe) from behind the counter finished up with a customer and came around to ask if I needed any help. I gave him the highlights from earlier in the day and shrugged. No big deal if I couldn't find it.
He was a good kid. He fully understood the "instant gratification" urge and offered to dig through the lower bins. I demurred and explained that I'd just check the Ss and be done with it, but he was all determined. Just as he crouched down, I got to the right section and there it was. Bam. Instant gratification!
So I go to the counter to pay, and while I was there, I asked if he happened to know off the top of his head if they had the new Galactus comic, Cataclysm. I mentioned it a while back on my Twitter feed, but I hadn't actively gone looking for it. I like Galactus well enough -- dude eats planets! -- but I wasn't heartset on it.
The kid said he didn't know for sure, but he really didn't "do" comics, so I could feel free to go look. I laughed and said if I hit the comics section, I'd spend my whole paycheck. Then, out of nowhere, he said he'd always kinda wanted to get into comics. He just didn't know where to start.
It occurred to me later that he sounded a bit hesitant. I wish I'd noticed at the time.
Anyway, I grinned and told him that if he was just looking for entertainment, he couldn't go wrong with Deadpool. He didn't know much about that, so I next suggested the Hellboy comics (or anything by Mike Mignola) because they have pretty good writing. He said he'd always kind of heard that they weren't the best written, then admitted that he might have gotten that idea from watching the movies. Heh, I had to disagree with him there because I loved the movies, but I did admit that they had more of Guillermo del Toro's fantasy genius than Mignola's epic scale.
Then I told him not to even get me started because I'd be there all night. He laughed and wanted to keep talking, but he did have other customers and I didn't want to be a pest, so I thanked him kindly for his willingness to help (and to chat about comics, which is always fun) and left.
When I got home, I popped in my new DVD and, as I usually do, headed to Cracked.com, where I stumbled across this article. That article is about fan communities that apparently hate their fans, and one of those communities is apparently comics fans.
Do what now?
Because yeah, I have never had a bad comics conversation. I'm not the most studied comics fan. We didn't have a lot of opportunity to get them when I was a kid, so it was really college before I started reading and gaining a good knowledge foundation about comics in general, and I really only started collecting a few years back. I worked at a Domino's up from an epic little comics shop for a while, and even though I just kinda wandered around like a kid in a candy store most of the time, not sure what I wanted other than that I wanted everything, no one ever snubbed me. No one ever accused me of not being a "real" comics fan. The guys that worked there treated me like any other comics fan, chatting and answering questions and making suggestions and having a good old time.
I mean, c'mon. We're all surrounded by one of the things we love most in the world. Why be snooty about it?
And any time I've stumbled into a comics conversation just out and about, I've been welcomed in with open arms. As I said when I started this post, I guess I've just been incredibly lucky in the comics fans I've bumped into, because I love bumping into comics fans. Always have a good time, there.
And then I remembered that little bit of hesitation from the kid at Vintage Stock. I mean, they sell comics there, and those stores are part of a pretty small set of brick-and-mortar places in this area where you can actually go in and buy comics, so I guess it's pretty generally accepted that the people behind the counter know comics. I even assumed as much myself when I asked if he knew some random comic off the top of his head.
It occurred to me that perhaps he'd mentioned wanting to "get into" comics to someone else and been snarked at for it. Poor kid. If so, it's really no wonder he wanted to keep talking to someone who was excited to talk about it and make suggestions. I kinda wish, even now, that I'd asked what he was interested in and made more personalized suggestions rather than just saying the first things that popped into my mind (which were, of course, the ones I like).
But it all started because of a wild goose chase for a thirty-year-old movie brought to mind by a passing reference to a farm animal's unusual and catchy name.
Total sitcom day.
Oh, and the movie? Totally held up. Watching it was like coming home. Love it.
March 18, 2014
Dear Charlie:
Proof positive that you can make ridiculously long-lasting impressions through even the most cursory of interactions:
So last night, I needed to go by Wal-mart, but I hate going to Wal-mart. I hate shopping in general, but Wal-mart is always a madhouse, and I usually talk myself out of going by either hitting a grocery story or Dollar General. I can usually only talk myself into Wal-mart when I would have to hit both stores, otherwise.
Yeah, last night was one of those nights. So, I bribed myself. I made myself a deal: if I went to the dreaded Wal-mart, I could stop by and get a venti Earl Grey tea latte on the way home. I hadn't had one in a while, so I was jonesing for my fix.
So, after running the Wal-mart gauntlet, I dutifully pulled into the drive-thru at Starbucks (also not my favorite place, but they do have that one drink), put in my order, and proceeded to roll up my window so I could belt out "She's Not There" with Santana. When I get up to the window, correct change in hand, the barista guy looks at me funny before taking my money.
"Didn't you use to have a different car?"
I just kinda blinked at him for a moment because, no, I've had Big Bad George for three years now, and I honestly didn't recognize the kid. Before I can come up with something to say, he goes ahead and takes my money and explains himself.
"It's just... you're the only one who ever gets this, and I could have sworn you had a white car."
I kind of laughed. "Well, yeah, I had a white car before this one, but that was like three years ago."
He brightened. "That explains it. I left for a while and just came back, so yeah, that was you."
By this time, someone handed him my tea latte, and he even remembered to stopper it for me. I was more than a little boggled and couldn't help but ask, "Good grief, man, how did you remember that?"
He just grinned and shrugged. "Like I said, you're the only one who orders this, and you're always really nice about it if we're out of Earl Grey. You were even nice the time I gave you a plain old Earl Grey without the latte. You just brought it in and smiled and asked if it'd be possible to just add some steamed milk because you didn't want us to have to remake it."
"Holy crap, that was you?"
"Yup."
Shaking my head, I gave the kid an extra dollar and thanked him kindly and went along my way. Who knew, huh? I mean, I know firsthand how customers treat people in service jobs, but still... to be remembered who knew how many years later just for not throwing a fit?
Wow.
I am, however, very glad to be remembered for being nice instead of for being a pain in the ass for being the only person ordering an item that's no longer on the menu. Whew!
So last night, I needed to go by Wal-mart, but I hate going to Wal-mart. I hate shopping in general, but Wal-mart is always a madhouse, and I usually talk myself out of going by either hitting a grocery story or Dollar General. I can usually only talk myself into Wal-mart when I would have to hit both stores, otherwise.
Yeah, last night was one of those nights. So, I bribed myself. I made myself a deal: if I went to the dreaded Wal-mart, I could stop by and get a venti Earl Grey tea latte on the way home. I hadn't had one in a while, so I was jonesing for my fix.
So, after running the Wal-mart gauntlet, I dutifully pulled into the drive-thru at Starbucks (also not my favorite place, but they do have that one drink), put in my order, and proceeded to roll up my window so I could belt out "She's Not There" with Santana. When I get up to the window, correct change in hand, the barista guy looks at me funny before taking my money.
"Didn't you use to have a different car?"
I just kinda blinked at him for a moment because, no, I've had Big Bad George for three years now, and I honestly didn't recognize the kid. Before I can come up with something to say, he goes ahead and takes my money and explains himself.
"It's just... you're the only one who ever gets this, and I could have sworn you had a white car."
I kind of laughed. "Well, yeah, I had a white car before this one, but that was like three years ago."
He brightened. "That explains it. I left for a while and just came back, so yeah, that was you."
By this time, someone handed him my tea latte, and he even remembered to stopper it for me. I was more than a little boggled and couldn't help but ask, "Good grief, man, how did you remember that?"
He just grinned and shrugged. "Like I said, you're the only one who orders this, and you're always really nice about it if we're out of Earl Grey. You were even nice the time I gave you a plain old Earl Grey without the latte. You just brought it in and smiled and asked if it'd be possible to just add some steamed milk because you didn't want us to have to remake it."
"Holy crap, that was you?"
"Yup."
Shaking my head, I gave the kid an extra dollar and thanked him kindly and went along my way. Who knew, huh? I mean, I know firsthand how customers treat people in service jobs, but still... to be remembered who knew how many years later just for not throwing a fit?
Wow.
I am, however, very glad to be remembered for being nice instead of for being a pain in the ass for being the only person ordering an item that's no longer on the menu. Whew!
March 11, 2014
Dear Charlie:
Turns out, I'm a bad sci fi fan and I never even knew it.
So over the weekend, I got the urge to watch Blade Runner . Happens to us all. Or it should, anyway. At any rate, that's one of the few classics I never picked up on VHS, which means it's one of the few classics I never managed to replace with DVD. My favorite movie place didn't have a copy in, so I called Family Video to see if, by some chance, they had it for rent.
My luck was in. I came home with it a half hour later and popped it in.
Imagine my shock and shame when I realized that... ahem... it turns out I've never actually seen it all the way through. Blade Runner! I've caught bits and pieces of it several times over the years. I know what it's about and all the little pop culture-y ins and outs. Hell, I can quote the Tears in Rain speech!
But as I sat and watched the rental, I realized there were entire chunks that I've never seen before. I'm not talking the difference between an old version and the "final cut" version. I'm talking a good half-hour section where Roy Batty frigid-questions Chew, the eye guy. Never saw that before. I'm talking the whole section where Rachael comes to visit Deckard and explain that she can't possibly be a Replicant because she has memories of her mother and a picture of them together when she was a child.
Et cetera. Et cetera.
Appalled, I eyed my official Nerd Card with great longing as I prepared to tear it right the hell up. Luckily, I stopped myself and hit Amazon to buy a copy on DVD. Just got it today and have already watched it again, just to make sure I didn't miss anything. AGAIN.
Whew. My nerd cred is safe. I can hold my head high again.
So over the weekend, I got the urge to watch Blade Runner . Happens to us all. Or it should, anyway. At any rate, that's one of the few classics I never picked up on VHS, which means it's one of the few classics I never managed to replace with DVD. My favorite movie place didn't have a copy in, so I called Family Video to see if, by some chance, they had it for rent.
My luck was in. I came home with it a half hour later and popped it in.
Imagine my shock and shame when I realized that... ahem... it turns out I've never actually seen it all the way through. Blade Runner! I've caught bits and pieces of it several times over the years. I know what it's about and all the little pop culture-y ins and outs. Hell, I can quote the Tears in Rain speech!
But as I sat and watched the rental, I realized there were entire chunks that I've never seen before. I'm not talking the difference between an old version and the "final cut" version. I'm talking a good half-hour section where Roy Batty frigid-questions Chew, the eye guy. Never saw that before. I'm talking the whole section where Rachael comes to visit Deckard and explain that she can't possibly be a Replicant because she has memories of her mother and a picture of them together when she was a child.
Et cetera. Et cetera.
Appalled, I eyed my official Nerd Card with great longing as I prepared to tear it right the hell up. Luckily, I stopped myself and hit Amazon to buy a copy on DVD. Just got it today and have already watched it again, just to make sure I didn't miss anything. AGAIN.
Whew. My nerd cred is safe. I can hold my head high again.
February 23, 2014
Dear Charlie:
While I usually try to keep my weekends low-key (especially lately, because I've been so swamped at work that I just kinda want to crash at home), it's definitely nice to have a productive weekend once in a while. I did all the dishes and put them away, vacuumed, went into town and gave Big Bad George a good, hot shower (poor thing hadn't had one all winter because this has been a particularly messy one), did two loads of laundry, and am currently baking cookies.
The whole place smells like warm vanilla and brown sugar. Nice.
I really ought to clean out my fridge. Over the winter, it tends to end up packed with the remains of casseroles and stews and crockpot meals. I make enough to eat on for a while, but there's usually a serving or two left that just gets shoved to the back in mismatched Tupperware. Talk about seeking out new life and new civilizations. Egad.
But that always creates an enormous amount of dishes, and I no longer have a garbage disposal in my sink, so it will also create some stinky, messy trash, so... yeah. I'll need a little more talking-into before boldly going.
Instead... movies! And maybe some more 7 Little Words on my Kindle. Or one of the two huge short story anthologies I bought. Of course, those are both horror anthologies, but hey.
See, I was on a sci fi kick there for a while, so I finally broke down and replaced my old VHS copies of the original six Star Trek movies by ordering a DVD box set, but they haven't arrived yet, so I've kinda meandered over into more of my horror/haunted house stock. Currently on a Stephen King kick. I watched Rose Red yesterday and am watching Storm of the Century today. After the cookies are done, I may make some Earl Grey, have a couple of fresh-baked cookies, and watch a few favorite Ghost Hunter episodes. Or I may watch IT for like the hundredth time. Not sure yet.
I miss football. It hasn't even been a full month. Oi. What did I used to do on Sundays??
Anyway, my writing kick seems to have slowed for the moment. I've been more reading than writing, but that's okay. Part of it is the new Kindle, which is awesome, but part of it is just that my mind was ready for a shift. My weird brain is a little more disciplined than a coked-out magpie, but not by much. It still jumps to investigate shiny things. And it's not like I'm getting no words at all - just not the "in the Zone" rush of like 5,000 a day.
I'm cool with that.
Plus, I need to do a little research for the next bit of this story, so I may employ my Kindle if I can find the relevant text in ebook form. I'm crossing my fingers. Of course, that means I need to get to a reliable wifi location so I can browse until I hopefully find what I need.
Hmmm... a handy excuse to go to Mythos! Nice! This blog post worked out way better than I thought!
The whole place smells like warm vanilla and brown sugar. Nice.
I really ought to clean out my fridge. Over the winter, it tends to end up packed with the remains of casseroles and stews and crockpot meals. I make enough to eat on for a while, but there's usually a serving or two left that just gets shoved to the back in mismatched Tupperware. Talk about seeking out new life and new civilizations. Egad.
But that always creates an enormous amount of dishes, and I no longer have a garbage disposal in my sink, so it will also create some stinky, messy trash, so... yeah. I'll need a little more talking-into before boldly going.
Instead... movies! And maybe some more 7 Little Words on my Kindle. Or one of the two huge short story anthologies I bought. Of course, those are both horror anthologies, but hey.
See, I was on a sci fi kick there for a while, so I finally broke down and replaced my old VHS copies of the original six Star Trek movies by ordering a DVD box set, but they haven't arrived yet, so I've kinda meandered over into more of my horror/haunted house stock. Currently on a Stephen King kick. I watched Rose Red yesterday and am watching Storm of the Century today. After the cookies are done, I may make some Earl Grey, have a couple of fresh-baked cookies, and watch a few favorite Ghost Hunter episodes. Or I may watch IT for like the hundredth time. Not sure yet.
I miss football. It hasn't even been a full month. Oi. What did I used to do on Sundays??
Anyway, my writing kick seems to have slowed for the moment. I've been more reading than writing, but that's okay. Part of it is the new Kindle, which is awesome, but part of it is just that my mind was ready for a shift. My weird brain is a little more disciplined than a coked-out magpie, but not by much. It still jumps to investigate shiny things. And it's not like I'm getting no words at all - just not the "in the Zone" rush of like 5,000 a day.
I'm cool with that.
Plus, I need to do a little research for the next bit of this story, so I may employ my Kindle if I can find the relevant text in ebook form. I'm crossing my fingers. Of course, that means I need to get to a reliable wifi location so I can browse until I hopefully find what I need.
Hmmm... a handy excuse to go to Mythos! Nice! This blog post worked out way better than I thought!
February 16, 2014
Dear Charlie:
I am just a blogging fool lately. Dunno what's got into me, but I'll take it. Better than the pitiful barely-one-post-a-month thing I was doing, right?
Anyway, I gotta blog about Star Trek: Into Darkness. Remember how much I swooned over the first JJ Abrams Star Trek? Yeah, well, I was again prepared to be let down by the sequel, but I was also again quite pleased to be wrong. Into Darkness is just as fan-servicey and awesome as the first.
And this time, they managed tribbles.
Can you tell I've been catching up on the summer blockbusters I missed over the summer? I guess I tend to do that this time of year. Not that I noticed this trend before. ANYWAY.
I dunno what all the fuss was about Benedict Cumberbatch as Khan. He did an amazing job of showing both sophistication and rampaging brutality, as that role requires. Khan was always one of the most dangerous adversaries, not because he was so deadly (although he was), but because he was so brilliant that he was deadly in ways the peace-loving Federation couldn't dream of. Cumberbatch pulls that off with ruthless sincerity.
The rest of the principle cast are all in fine form. Karl Urban just is Bones. There's no other way to put it. He grumbles. He's pessimistic. He's a doctor, not a torpedo technician. I love it.
I'm also finally fully sold on Chris Pine's Kirk. I know, I know. But I usually try to reserve judgment. Retractions suck (although I'm fully willing to make them when I'm proven wrong, like in my Pacific Rim review about Charlie Hunnam). So while Pine definitely had Kirk's devil-may-care attitude, I just wasn't completely sold.
It's not that I didn't think Pine could play Kirk well. I thought he might play Kirk a little too well. Hell, maybe he does. Nothing will steal my affection for the original series or for the flamboyant and over-the-top way Shatner portrayed James Tiberius Kirk, but I gotta admit that Chris Pine adds a... sincerity... that makes Kirk very compelling. His evolving friendship with Spock is compelling -- in many ways, more so than in the original series, though that might be blasphemy coming from an acknowledged Trekkie.
And don't get me started on Simon Pegg as Scotty. He's just glorious. I love it. I love him. He's perfect. Although I think the '70s might want the shirt he's wearing in the bar back.
Anyway, I haven't watched The Wrath of Khan in longer than I'll admit to, but even so, it was fannish good fun to pick up on all the little fan-service bits thrown out for us. It was even more fun to watch how the events twisted to unfold another way so the same thing happened, but opposite (I figure it's still soon enough that these might be spoilers, so I'm trying to be vague, but I may just be being confusing). I can't wait to see how they continue on with this series. I said before that this alternate universe tactic is just the epinephrine this cardiac-arresting series needed, and I still think it is. This second flick manages to take the torch the first one lit and just go hogwild with it.
Forget running. Into Darkness took that torch and jumped off the edge of the world with it.
I do have one question, though. It's very important.
Can a lens flare be sarcastic? Because I think a couple of those lens flares might have been "ha, in your face!" lens flares, aimed directly at the folks who dared to suggest Abrams might have been a teensy bit too liberal with those eye-gouging flashes in his earlier outing.
Either way, I love this flick. It's a worthy successor in a long-loved series. As soon as there's a collector's edition with special features available, it will be joining its predecessor on my pride-of-place shelf.
Good times.
Oh! Also, one more thing: Robocop is in it. Robocop is in a Star Trek movie. I just... thank you.
Anyway, I gotta blog about Star Trek: Into Darkness. Remember how much I swooned over the first JJ Abrams Star Trek? Yeah, well, I was again prepared to be let down by the sequel, but I was also again quite pleased to be wrong. Into Darkness is just as fan-servicey and awesome as the first.
And this time, they managed tribbles.
Can you tell I've been catching up on the summer blockbusters I missed over the summer? I guess I tend to do that this time of year. Not that I noticed this trend before. ANYWAY.
I dunno what all the fuss was about Benedict Cumberbatch as Khan. He did an amazing job of showing both sophistication and rampaging brutality, as that role requires. Khan was always one of the most dangerous adversaries, not because he was so deadly (although he was), but because he was so brilliant that he was deadly in ways the peace-loving Federation couldn't dream of. Cumberbatch pulls that off with ruthless sincerity.
The rest of the principle cast are all in fine form. Karl Urban just is Bones. There's no other way to put it. He grumbles. He's pessimistic. He's a doctor, not a torpedo technician. I love it.
I'm also finally fully sold on Chris Pine's Kirk. I know, I know. But I usually try to reserve judgment. Retractions suck (although I'm fully willing to make them when I'm proven wrong, like in my Pacific Rim review about Charlie Hunnam). So while Pine definitely had Kirk's devil-may-care attitude, I just wasn't completely sold.
It's not that I didn't think Pine could play Kirk well. I thought he might play Kirk a little too well. Hell, maybe he does. Nothing will steal my affection for the original series or for the flamboyant and over-the-top way Shatner portrayed James Tiberius Kirk, but I gotta admit that Chris Pine adds a... sincerity... that makes Kirk very compelling. His evolving friendship with Spock is compelling -- in many ways, more so than in the original series, though that might be blasphemy coming from an acknowledged Trekkie.
And don't get me started on Simon Pegg as Scotty. He's just glorious. I love it. I love him. He's perfect. Although I think the '70s might want the shirt he's wearing in the bar back.
Anyway, I haven't watched The Wrath of Khan in longer than I'll admit to, but even so, it was fannish good fun to pick up on all the little fan-service bits thrown out for us. It was even more fun to watch how the events twisted to unfold another way so the same thing happened, but opposite (I figure it's still soon enough that these might be spoilers, so I'm trying to be vague, but I may just be being confusing). I can't wait to see how they continue on with this series. I said before that this alternate universe tactic is just the epinephrine this cardiac-arresting series needed, and I still think it is. This second flick manages to take the torch the first one lit and just go hogwild with it.
Forget running. Into Darkness took that torch and jumped off the edge of the world with it.
I do have one question, though. It's very important.
Can a lens flare be sarcastic? Because I think a couple of those lens flares might have been "ha, in your face!" lens flares, aimed directly at the folks who dared to suggest Abrams might have been a teensy bit too liberal with those eye-gouging flashes in his earlier outing.
Either way, I love this flick. It's a worthy successor in a long-loved series. As soon as there's a collector's edition with special features available, it will be joining its predecessor on my pride-of-place shelf.
Good times.
Oh! Also, one more thing: Robocop is in it. Robocop is in a Star Trek movie. I just... thank you.
February 11, 2014
Dear Charlie:
I got a Kindle for my birthday. I've wanted one for a while, but... well... money.
Plus, I love my print books. I love the feel of the paper, the weight of it in my hand, the manual flipping of the pages.
But that doesn't mean I don't understand the benefits of having an entire library at the push of a button instead of in the six or so giant plastic totes I have tucked away in my spare bedroom. Heh.
So I'm ecstatic, and I'm reading an e-book my sister gifted me a long time ago that had just been gathering cyber dust on my laptop. It's not that I can't read it on my laptop. Far from it. But it kinda defeats the purpose. Plus, if I'm on my laptop, I'm usually doing something. Multiple somethings, actually.
I can't not multitask. I think I've said this before. I'm never just writing. I'm usually writing and watching a movie. Writing and listening to music. Etc.
But now I have a Kindle, and it's a very interesting book, and I have hit upon the Kindle's fatal flaw. It's elementary, my dear Watson. It doesn't have a frickin' clock, and since you're not manually turning pages and having a tactile sense of time passing as one side of the book thins and the other thickens, you have no idea that you're still up and reading at 1:30 in the morning when your alarm will start braying at 6:30!
Curses! I still have to take a shower, dammit!
This... will take some getting used to. Luckily, I'm pretty adaptive. Just... don't ask me tomorrow, because my answer will be grumble-grumble-don't-ask.
Plus, I love my print books. I love the feel of the paper, the weight of it in my hand, the manual flipping of the pages.
But that doesn't mean I don't understand the benefits of having an entire library at the push of a button instead of in the six or so giant plastic totes I have tucked away in my spare bedroom. Heh.
So I'm ecstatic, and I'm reading an e-book my sister gifted me a long time ago that had just been gathering cyber dust on my laptop. It's not that I can't read it on my laptop. Far from it. But it kinda defeats the purpose. Plus, if I'm on my laptop, I'm usually doing something. Multiple somethings, actually.
I can't not multitask. I think I've said this before. I'm never just writing. I'm usually writing and watching a movie. Writing and listening to music. Etc.
But now I have a Kindle, and it's a very interesting book, and I have hit upon the Kindle's fatal flaw. It's elementary, my dear Watson. It doesn't have a frickin' clock, and since you're not manually turning pages and having a tactile sense of time passing as one side of the book thins and the other thickens, you have no idea that you're still up and reading at 1:30 in the morning when your alarm will start braying at 6:30!
Curses! I still have to take a shower, dammit!
This... will take some getting used to. Luckily, I'm pretty adaptive. Just... don't ask me tomorrow, because my answer will be grumble-grumble-don't-ask.
February 1, 2014
Dear Charlie:
Sometimes, having a friendly face results in wacky shenanigans.
So I got up kinda late today. I've been under the weather with the Creeping Crud, which just wears you out, so I let myself sleep in and woke up with a "slept too long" headache. A can of Coke and three ibuprofen took care of most of it, so after a couple of hours, I decided I was hungry and should probably eat something.
But since I still feel pretty cruddy, I didn't really want to fix anything, so I decided that it's been far too long since I went to HuHot. Still achy down the back of my neck (I seriously slept hard last night, which I apparently needed), I picked up an Agatha Christie novel, put on my old Chiefs hat to keep my hair out of my face, and made sure I had some singles to tuck into the fishbowl (no, I don't ring the gong - those poor guys have to chant often enough), then headed out...
...only to have to scrape a nice coat of ice off my car. Oh, well. Didn't take but a few minutes to get on my way, and, thanks to that light scrim of ice, HuHot wasn't as busy as it probably would have been. Heh, the odd time of day probably helped, too. Plus, I got potstickers. Always tasty.
Anyway, since I was out and about and still achy down the neck, I figured I'd treat myself to a venti Earl Grey tea latte on the way home. The guy behind me got a little huffy with the drive-thru order-taker, so I decided I'd give the poor barista a little bigger tip than I normally would to make up for it. Definitely worth it for the smile I got to go along with my favorite beverage.
So, feeling full and all smiley now and with that heavenly bergamot scent permeating my car, I thought, "Hey, I haven't rented a movie in a dog's years. I'll stop by Family Video and see what's available. I may be stuck at home if there's more ice on the way and yeah, it's SuperBowl Sunday tomorrow and all, but...."
And there was my first mistake of the day. Heh.
Apparently, everyone who was already out had a similar idea, because Family Video was packed. I managed to pick out two movies to keep for five nights, but man, it was like dancing a particularly intricate tango with a bunch of strangers. Like the most awkward musical ever, sans music.
But finally, I stood in line with my two movies. The guy next to me (just ahead of me, but such niceties are kinda lost in such a crowd) had a little Yorkie-ish puppy in a t-shirt on one arm and his movies in the other hand, and the poor puppy was clearly overwhelmed by the crowd - kinda caught between trembling and squirming to get down to investigate.
It was a long wait. At some point, the guy started looking around at people close to him, and as I watched, he settled on me and stepped closer.
"I hate to ask, but... could you hold her for just a second? I can't get to my wallet."
Now, most people who know me know that I'm not much for small dogs, but the poor guy needed a hand, and I guess I have that friendly face thing going, so I shrugged, shifted my movies to under my arm, and took the puppy. You never know how a dog (or a child, for that matter) will react to a stranger, but apparently this one smelled the Feed the Huns Hoisin on my breath, because it just went lick-crazy. I haven't been so thoroughly puppy-licked since I was a kid.
The guy kept apologizing as he's trying to dig his wallet out and his coat keeps getting in the way, but I was basically okay with it. It was harder to keep from dropping my movies than anything else, and I chuckled pretty much the whole time. Don't get me wrong: it's a little gross to know that you're getting shellacked by the same tongue that licks its butt, but still. A thorough puppy-licking isn't all bad. Especially when the puppy in question so obviously enjoys itself.
Soon enough, the guy took the little wiggler back, apologizing all the while, but I just laughed and swiped at my face with my coat sleeves. She'd even licked my hat in her power-licking frenzy. The puppy kept trying to wiggle out of his arms and get back at me, which was amusing. Note to self: no more Feed the Huns Hoisin when dogs are in the near future.
Anyway, the guy finally just grinned and said, "She likes you. Thanks for the help."
No problem, guy. No problem.
It was still a bit of a wait, but when I did finally get up to the front of the line, the poor, harried lady apologized for the wait, to which I replied, "No worries. I got a puppy-licking, so I'm okay."
She chuckled, obviously relieved, and said, "Thanks for that. It's the first laugh I've had all day."
There were still plenty of people behind me in line, so I'm sure someone got fussy at some point, but at least she got a bit of a laugh on such a crazy day. That makes me feel good.
A good puppy-licking probably helped, too.
So yeah. Sometimes, having a friendly face is a good thing.
So I got up kinda late today. I've been under the weather with the Creeping Crud, which just wears you out, so I let myself sleep in and woke up with a "slept too long" headache. A can of Coke and three ibuprofen took care of most of it, so after a couple of hours, I decided I was hungry and should probably eat something.
But since I still feel pretty cruddy, I didn't really want to fix anything, so I decided that it's been far too long since I went to HuHot. Still achy down the back of my neck (I seriously slept hard last night, which I apparently needed), I picked up an Agatha Christie novel, put on my old Chiefs hat to keep my hair out of my face, and made sure I had some singles to tuck into the fishbowl (no, I don't ring the gong - those poor guys have to chant often enough), then headed out...
...only to have to scrape a nice coat of ice off my car. Oh, well. Didn't take but a few minutes to get on my way, and, thanks to that light scrim of ice, HuHot wasn't as busy as it probably would have been. Heh, the odd time of day probably helped, too. Plus, I got potstickers. Always tasty.
Anyway, since I was out and about and still achy down the neck, I figured I'd treat myself to a venti Earl Grey tea latte on the way home. The guy behind me got a little huffy with the drive-thru order-taker, so I decided I'd give the poor barista a little bigger tip than I normally would to make up for it. Definitely worth it for the smile I got to go along with my favorite beverage.
So, feeling full and all smiley now and with that heavenly bergamot scent permeating my car, I thought, "Hey, I haven't rented a movie in a dog's years. I'll stop by Family Video and see what's available. I may be stuck at home if there's more ice on the way and yeah, it's SuperBowl Sunday tomorrow and all, but...."
And there was my first mistake of the day. Heh.
Apparently, everyone who was already out had a similar idea, because Family Video was packed. I managed to pick out two movies to keep for five nights, but man, it was like dancing a particularly intricate tango with a bunch of strangers. Like the most awkward musical ever, sans music.
But finally, I stood in line with my two movies. The guy next to me (just ahead of me, but such niceties are kinda lost in such a crowd) had a little Yorkie-ish puppy in a t-shirt on one arm and his movies in the other hand, and the poor puppy was clearly overwhelmed by the crowd - kinda caught between trembling and squirming to get down to investigate.
It was a long wait. At some point, the guy started looking around at people close to him, and as I watched, he settled on me and stepped closer.
"I hate to ask, but... could you hold her for just a second? I can't get to my wallet."
Now, most people who know me know that I'm not much for small dogs, but the poor guy needed a hand, and I guess I have that friendly face thing going, so I shrugged, shifted my movies to under my arm, and took the puppy. You never know how a dog (or a child, for that matter) will react to a stranger, but apparently this one smelled the Feed the Huns Hoisin on my breath, because it just went lick-crazy. I haven't been so thoroughly puppy-licked since I was a kid.
The guy kept apologizing as he's trying to dig his wallet out and his coat keeps getting in the way, but I was basically okay with it. It was harder to keep from dropping my movies than anything else, and I chuckled pretty much the whole time. Don't get me wrong: it's a little gross to know that you're getting shellacked by the same tongue that licks its butt, but still. A thorough puppy-licking isn't all bad. Especially when the puppy in question so obviously enjoys itself.
Soon enough, the guy took the little wiggler back, apologizing all the while, but I just laughed and swiped at my face with my coat sleeves. She'd even licked my hat in her power-licking frenzy. The puppy kept trying to wiggle out of his arms and get back at me, which was amusing. Note to self: no more Feed the Huns Hoisin when dogs are in the near future.
Anyway, the guy finally just grinned and said, "She likes you. Thanks for the help."
No problem, guy. No problem.
It was still a bit of a wait, but when I did finally get up to the front of the line, the poor, harried lady apologized for the wait, to which I replied, "No worries. I got a puppy-licking, so I'm okay."
She chuckled, obviously relieved, and said, "Thanks for that. It's the first laugh I've had all day."
There were still plenty of people behind me in line, so I'm sure someone got fussy at some point, but at least she got a bit of a laugh on such a crazy day. That makes me feel good.
A good puppy-licking probably helped, too.
So yeah. Sometimes, having a friendly face is a good thing.
January 22, 2014
Dear Charlie:
Okay, so since I'm still diggin' on Pacific Rim, I've been combing YouTube for special features. Yeah, my DVD is devoid of extras. I don't even have a commentary. I need to go see if they have a collector's edition with all the extras or something.
Anyway, so in my YouTube ramblings (which are oddly like clicking Wikipedia footnotes - there's always one more and one more and one more), I stumbled across an interview where the cast members were asked which movie robot was their favorite. My mind immediately jumped through the hoop.
Iron Giant! No, wait. That's probably because he's voiced by Vin Diesel. So... the T-1000. Yeah. Shapeshifting death-dealer extraordinaire. From the future.
No, wait....
After a few such iterations, I finally hit upon HAL 9000... only to remember that HAL wasn't actually a robot. HAL was an artificial intelligence. Not quite the same. Hmmm.....
And then it hit me. GERTY. GERTY is my current favorite robot (no offense to the jaegers in Pacific Rim, but while they're robots, they're piloted by humans).
Has anyone seen the movie Moon ? It was a pretty small release that made a modest profit, so I wouldn't be surprised if not. However, if you like science fiction -- hard sci fi, not the more audience-friendly action-y sci fi that does better in theaters -- I can't imagine that you wouldn't like Moon. I saw it a couple of years ago and, clearly, still think about it.
M-O-O-N, that spells science fiction. Sorry. I had to.
See, there's always been a difference between hard sci fi and "regular" sci fi. Hard sci fi is... well, hard. Classic science fiction novels, for example, tend to not be rollicking tales of spaceships in laser battles or brawling acid-blooded aliens or awesome jetpacks and hoverbikes. Those elements are sometimes present, but they aren't the heart of the story.
No, hard science fiction is more about the science than the fiction. About the world-building. About atmosphere and suspense. About the day-to-day minutiae of space travel, or mapping and curing a new alien virus, or establishing a colony on a hostile planet. And under all of that, hard sci fi is about the contrast between human understanding and the cold, harsh reality of a universe that doesn't care if humanity thrives or dies. Hard sci fi is Lovecraftian existential horror at its most science-y.
It's slow-paced and dense and detail-packed. It usually requires patience, deep thought, attention, and even dedication to read or watch. It makes you work for it.
Actually, perhaps the best contrast I can think of off the top of my head that most people will be able to relate to is Alien versus Aliens.
Ridley Scott's Alienis, in its barest components, a haunted house story, but in space and with science. If you've watched it (shame on you if you haven't), you know it's pretty slow-moving until it finally builds to a crescendo. Even that first shot of the seemingly empty ship is designed to establish that this isn't some place on Earth where we'll be jumping around from place to place. This is a spaceship and we're going to be here a while, so take a good, long look. This is a functional marvel of science that people inhabit and use as their home, but right now, it's machinery and wiring and layers of shielding between the fragile, squishy humans inside and the cold, abhorrent vacuum of space outside.
Nothing actually happens in that long shot. When the cryosleep beds open, there's still nothing. And even when John Hurt finally wakes up, it's not people jumping from their easeful slumber to take on a new day. It's Average Joes and Janes yawning, slowly taking off the monitoring leads stuck on them, groggily dragging themselves out of their little cocoons. Hell, they don't even know why they've been awakened until everyone's had a shower and some coffee.
Instant gratification audiences would probably not approve. Nothing has blown up yet.
There are action sequences, of course, and iconic ones, at that. The chestburster scene has already gone down in history as one of the most shocking and graphic images to ever grace the silver screen. But for the most part, that movie is hard sci fi, where the events convey the time they would actually take if the story was really happening because it's more focused on the story and atmosphere and world-building and attention to detail than anything else.
See, space travel isn't fast. Even at fictional warp speeds, space travel isn't fast. It takes months or years to get where you're going, which is usually conveniently encapsulated down into cryosleep or some other form of stasis. And when you finally get where you're going, things still don't happen fast.
Like in Alien, the drop ship they take to investigate the mystery beacon doesn't just touch down and boom, they're on walk-about. No, it slowly enters the atmosphere, methodically adjusts its vector, carefully switches from artificial gravity to the planet's natural pull, ploddingly lowers, lowers... looooowwwweeerrrrrrrs..... and thensets down. Badly, of course, which causes a brief flurry of action that further delays them going out and investigating.
Now, contrast all of that with James Cameron's sequel, Aliens. It's still sci fi, but it is pure action candy. It's about grabbing the audience's attention. In addition to the fact that he nearly started an international incident over tea breaks, Cameron shifted the focus of the series from the day-to-day realities of space travel marred by unforeseen complications to what these badass space Marines will do next, how many aliens they can mow down, and how long we can keep an entire installation at the brink of nuclear meltdown.
Admittedly, all of that is pretty awesome. It's just not hardcore science fiction. Aliens is essentially an action movie that just happens to take place in space.
Even the androids in each movie point up the differences between the two genres. Ash in Alienis emotionless, dispassionate, and fully a company machine. He does not question Weyland-Yutani's command to rescind all other priorities in favor of bringing back an alien. Crew expendable. His cold, hard, unstoppable methodology is the epitome of how harsh pure logic devoid of human sentiment is.
But Bishop in Aliensis the opposite. While still an emotionless machine, his programming is based more along Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics - that an android cannot harm and cannot allow harm to a human. However, where Asimov's Laws proved that, even at our best, humanity's intentions will fall victim to the cold logic of science (the end point of all of that "protection" supposedly guaranteed by the laws was that technology would have to fully enslave humanity to "protect" us from our own folly), Bishop kind of disregards all of that and embraces humanity, trying to be more human.
I always think of the near-expression on his face when Ripley compliments him for not leaving them to die. That's not a thing that would ever have happened with Ash. Ash used his near-expressions to express faux sympathy as he basically tells the crew they will all die horribly.
Sorry, I've gone a bit off-track (and gotten long-winded). I'll have to pull a Ron White and say I told you all of that to tell you this:
Moon isn't an action movie. It isn't big-budget. It takes time to develop. It's hard science fiction, and that's not for everyone. You have to actually pay attention and be patient to fully enjoy it.
In a lot of ways, it's a brave movie. Straight-up sci fi is a hard sell these days, be it in novel or film form. Only a small portion of any given audience is willing to sit that long waiting for something to happen. Stories aren't allowed a lot of build-up.
This one, though, doesn't care about any of that and takes you on the slower, more cerebral ride it wants you to take. On the surface, it's a small story about a lonely man doing a three-year solo stretch at a mining outpost on the moon. Of course, that's a thin layer of icing over a rich, delectable cake of pure awesome. No, this isn't a fast-paced thriller of a rollercoaster ride, but it does what that kind of movie usually can't. It asks the audience to think, to question. It asks the audience what humanity truly is, but doesn't proceed to force-feed us its own answer.
And, of course, it has my favorite movie robot, GERTY. GERTY is the station's AI -- rather like HAL, but with the inclusion of a tracking robotic arm to help the resident miner, Sam, go about his daily business. If you're watching this flick, you're clearly a sci fi fan, so your mind will immediately do what mine did and think, "Uh-oh, GERTY's gonna go HAL any minute now".
But GERTY's mission is to help Sam, and I can't tell you how relieved and pleased I was that it did exactly that. There's a pivotal moment -- so hard to explain all of this without spoilers, and I definitely want everyone to watch spoiler-free! -- where Sam needs information he cannot access, and you think GERTY will, at the very least, prevent him from getting it. Then that robotic arm with its little smiley face icon creeps into frame and does its job. It helps Sam.
It doesn't factor in what the mining company would want. It doesn't factor in emotion or logic. It doesn't drag humanity down an Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole of existential angst about programming versus insight, man versus machine, humanity versus existence. It just does its job.
GERTY is my favorite robot. It defies expectation without ruining the hard science fiction foundation so lovingly laid for it.
And that may be the longest answer to a simple question that wasn't even asked of me ever. I blame Guillermo del Toro. And my bachelor's in English.
Anyway, so in my YouTube ramblings (which are oddly like clicking Wikipedia footnotes - there's always one more and one more and one more), I stumbled across an interview where the cast members were asked which movie robot was their favorite. My mind immediately jumped through the hoop.
Iron Giant! No, wait. That's probably because he's voiced by Vin Diesel. So... the T-1000. Yeah. Shapeshifting death-dealer extraordinaire. From the future.
No, wait....
After a few such iterations, I finally hit upon HAL 9000... only to remember that HAL wasn't actually a robot. HAL was an artificial intelligence. Not quite the same. Hmmm.....
And then it hit me. GERTY. GERTY is my current favorite robot (no offense to the jaegers in Pacific Rim, but while they're robots, they're piloted by humans).
Has anyone seen the movie Moon ? It was a pretty small release that made a modest profit, so I wouldn't be surprised if not. However, if you like science fiction -- hard sci fi, not the more audience-friendly action-y sci fi that does better in theaters -- I can't imagine that you wouldn't like Moon. I saw it a couple of years ago and, clearly, still think about it.
M-O-O-N, that spells science fiction. Sorry. I had to.
See, there's always been a difference between hard sci fi and "regular" sci fi. Hard sci fi is... well, hard. Classic science fiction novels, for example, tend to not be rollicking tales of spaceships in laser battles or brawling acid-blooded aliens or awesome jetpacks and hoverbikes. Those elements are sometimes present, but they aren't the heart of the story.
No, hard science fiction is more about the science than the fiction. About the world-building. About atmosphere and suspense. About the day-to-day minutiae of space travel, or mapping and curing a new alien virus, or establishing a colony on a hostile planet. And under all of that, hard sci fi is about the contrast between human understanding and the cold, harsh reality of a universe that doesn't care if humanity thrives or dies. Hard sci fi is Lovecraftian existential horror at its most science-y.
It's slow-paced and dense and detail-packed. It usually requires patience, deep thought, attention, and even dedication to read or watch. It makes you work for it.
Actually, perhaps the best contrast I can think of off the top of my head that most people will be able to relate to is Alien versus Aliens.
Ridley Scott's Alienis, in its barest components, a haunted house story, but in space and with science. If you've watched it (shame on you if you haven't), you know it's pretty slow-moving until it finally builds to a crescendo. Even that first shot of the seemingly empty ship is designed to establish that this isn't some place on Earth where we'll be jumping around from place to place. This is a spaceship and we're going to be here a while, so take a good, long look. This is a functional marvel of science that people inhabit and use as their home, but right now, it's machinery and wiring and layers of shielding between the fragile, squishy humans inside and the cold, abhorrent vacuum of space outside.
Nothing actually happens in that long shot. When the cryosleep beds open, there's still nothing. And even when John Hurt finally wakes up, it's not people jumping from their easeful slumber to take on a new day. It's Average Joes and Janes yawning, slowly taking off the monitoring leads stuck on them, groggily dragging themselves out of their little cocoons. Hell, they don't even know why they've been awakened until everyone's had a shower and some coffee.
Instant gratification audiences would probably not approve. Nothing has blown up yet.
There are action sequences, of course, and iconic ones, at that. The chestburster scene has already gone down in history as one of the most shocking and graphic images to ever grace the silver screen. But for the most part, that movie is hard sci fi, where the events convey the time they would actually take if the story was really happening because it's more focused on the story and atmosphere and world-building and attention to detail than anything else.
See, space travel isn't fast. Even at fictional warp speeds, space travel isn't fast. It takes months or years to get where you're going, which is usually conveniently encapsulated down into cryosleep or some other form of stasis. And when you finally get where you're going, things still don't happen fast.
Like in Alien, the drop ship they take to investigate the mystery beacon doesn't just touch down and boom, they're on walk-about. No, it slowly enters the atmosphere, methodically adjusts its vector, carefully switches from artificial gravity to the planet's natural pull, ploddingly lowers, lowers... looooowwwweeerrrrrrrs..... and thensets down. Badly, of course, which causes a brief flurry of action that further delays them going out and investigating.
Now, contrast all of that with James Cameron's sequel, Aliens. It's still sci fi, but it is pure action candy. It's about grabbing the audience's attention. In addition to the fact that he nearly started an international incident over tea breaks, Cameron shifted the focus of the series from the day-to-day realities of space travel marred by unforeseen complications to what these badass space Marines will do next, how many aliens they can mow down, and how long we can keep an entire installation at the brink of nuclear meltdown.
Admittedly, all of that is pretty awesome. It's just not hardcore science fiction. Aliens is essentially an action movie that just happens to take place in space.
Even the androids in each movie point up the differences between the two genres. Ash in Alienis emotionless, dispassionate, and fully a company machine. He does not question Weyland-Yutani's command to rescind all other priorities in favor of bringing back an alien. Crew expendable. His cold, hard, unstoppable methodology is the epitome of how harsh pure logic devoid of human sentiment is.
But Bishop in Aliensis the opposite. While still an emotionless machine, his programming is based more along Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics - that an android cannot harm and cannot allow harm to a human. However, where Asimov's Laws proved that, even at our best, humanity's intentions will fall victim to the cold logic of science (the end point of all of that "protection" supposedly guaranteed by the laws was that technology would have to fully enslave humanity to "protect" us from our own folly), Bishop kind of disregards all of that and embraces humanity, trying to be more human.
I always think of the near-expression on his face when Ripley compliments him for not leaving them to die. That's not a thing that would ever have happened with Ash. Ash used his near-expressions to express faux sympathy as he basically tells the crew they will all die horribly.
Sorry, I've gone a bit off-track (and gotten long-winded). I'll have to pull a Ron White and say I told you all of that to tell you this:
Moon isn't an action movie. It isn't big-budget. It takes time to develop. It's hard science fiction, and that's not for everyone. You have to actually pay attention and be patient to fully enjoy it.
In a lot of ways, it's a brave movie. Straight-up sci fi is a hard sell these days, be it in novel or film form. Only a small portion of any given audience is willing to sit that long waiting for something to happen. Stories aren't allowed a lot of build-up.
This one, though, doesn't care about any of that and takes you on the slower, more cerebral ride it wants you to take. On the surface, it's a small story about a lonely man doing a three-year solo stretch at a mining outpost on the moon. Of course, that's a thin layer of icing over a rich, delectable cake of pure awesome. No, this isn't a fast-paced thriller of a rollercoaster ride, but it does what that kind of movie usually can't. It asks the audience to think, to question. It asks the audience what humanity truly is, but doesn't proceed to force-feed us its own answer.
And, of course, it has my favorite movie robot, GERTY. GERTY is the station's AI -- rather like HAL, but with the inclusion of a tracking robotic arm to help the resident miner, Sam, go about his daily business. If you're watching this flick, you're clearly a sci fi fan, so your mind will immediately do what mine did and think, "Uh-oh, GERTY's gonna go HAL any minute now".
But GERTY's mission is to help Sam, and I can't tell you how relieved and pleased I was that it did exactly that. There's a pivotal moment -- so hard to explain all of this without spoilers, and I definitely want everyone to watch spoiler-free! -- where Sam needs information he cannot access, and you think GERTY will, at the very least, prevent him from getting it. Then that robotic arm with its little smiley face icon creeps into frame and does its job. It helps Sam.
It doesn't factor in what the mining company would want. It doesn't factor in emotion or logic. It doesn't drag humanity down an Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole of existential angst about programming versus insight, man versus machine, humanity versus existence. It just does its job.
GERTY is my favorite robot. It defies expectation without ruining the hard science fiction foundation so lovingly laid for it.
And that may be the longest answer to a simple question that wasn't even asked of me ever. I blame Guillermo del Toro. And my bachelor's in English.
January 13, 2014
Dear Charlie:
In looking at my last several posts, it seems I've been all-football, all-the-time. Sorry about that. I just get so excited!
But with my Chiefs out of the running, I'm left with rooting against the Chargers (who are out, ha! suck it, Bolts!) and against the Broncos (sorry, Manning, but I don't like the Donkeys, either), being ambivalent toward the Patriots (again? seriously?), and maybe sort of rooting for the Niners a little more than the Seahawks. I'm just watching for the sheer joy of football, now. Darn it.
But since football season is waning for an agonizingly long time (oh, August, you're so far away!), I guess I should get back to the writing front, where things have been going surprisingly well. I love being in The Zone. It's been a while, and I missed it.
I started a couple of weeks back, working on one of those "meh, I may finish it someday" projects that I haul out every now and then. If I finish it someday, great. If not, that's okay, too. I like it, and it's fun, and it usually lets me get a few words, even in a really low-ebb writing clutch.
And damn if it didn't work.
Because I put it aside to write on another project, and in less than two weeks, I'm up almost 30,000 words. Unfortunately, it's another new project instead of one that needs finishing already, and it's not one I'm sure will ever make it as a "real" novel, so it may never see the light of day even if I do finish it, and 30K is usually where I start to lose momentum (probably because that's usually where that big first act winds down and the grueling second act begins).
So, I'm trying not to be too excited about it, but still. I love being in The Zone. All you want to do is write all the time. You impatiently grind through the work day, desperately grabbing for whatever extra work you can find to stuff into the hours in hopes of making them go faster so you can go home and write write write already. And then, when you get home, you settle in and maybe it's a little tough to get started, but once the words start coming... suddenly, you glance up and it's one in the morning.
Ahem. Like it was when I looked up a bit ago and realized it was long past time to take a bath and go to bed. Yikes. I'll be zonked tomorrow, but man. So worth it for now.
Just... ya know... don't ask me tomorrow. Heh.
But with my Chiefs out of the running, I'm left with rooting against the Chargers (who are out, ha! suck it, Bolts!) and against the Broncos (sorry, Manning, but I don't like the Donkeys, either), being ambivalent toward the Patriots (again? seriously?), and maybe sort of rooting for the Niners a little more than the Seahawks. I'm just watching for the sheer joy of football, now. Darn it.
But since football season is waning for an agonizingly long time (oh, August, you're so far away!), I guess I should get back to the writing front, where things have been going surprisingly well. I love being in The Zone. It's been a while, and I missed it.
I started a couple of weeks back, working on one of those "meh, I may finish it someday" projects that I haul out every now and then. If I finish it someday, great. If not, that's okay, too. I like it, and it's fun, and it usually lets me get a few words, even in a really low-ebb writing clutch.
And damn if it didn't work.
Because I put it aside to write on another project, and in less than two weeks, I'm up almost 30,000 words. Unfortunately, it's another new project instead of one that needs finishing already, and it's not one I'm sure will ever make it as a "real" novel, so it may never see the light of day even if I do finish it, and 30K is usually where I start to lose momentum (probably because that's usually where that big first act winds down and the grueling second act begins).
So, I'm trying not to be too excited about it, but still. I love being in The Zone. All you want to do is write all the time. You impatiently grind through the work day, desperately grabbing for whatever extra work you can find to stuff into the hours in hopes of making them go faster so you can go home and write write write already. And then, when you get home, you settle in and maybe it's a little tough to get started, but once the words start coming... suddenly, you glance up and it's one in the morning.
Ahem. Like it was when I looked up a bit ago and realized it was long past time to take a bath and go to bed. Yikes. I'll be zonked tomorrow, but man. So worth it for now.
Just... ya know... don't ask me tomorrow. Heh.
