Fear the Future

I've lost a lot of sleep recently.  A lot of that's due to the weird stomach bug I got last week, one I managed to shake by lying under a pile made up of every blanket I own for about twelve hours and sweating it out. But I've also started to worry a bunch, something I always thought old people did for no reason.

No, that reason has started to make a whole heck of a lot of sense.

The future's a big scary place, one which could just as easily be full of caramel pudding cups as it could be a gauntlet of naked Miley Cyruses riding atop construction equipment. The fact that I no longer know what to prepare for doesn't help at all. I've got all sorts of questions that press on my mind at night, and they never really go away during the day:

Can I really continue to make ends meet the way I'm working?

What if I get fired tomorrow?

What if I don't get the TTP Project report turned in on time?

Of course, these are completely silly questions. The way I'm working, I've never been MORE successful, I've got no reason to think I WILL get fired, and the TTP Project doesn't even exist except as the punch line to an old Dilbert comic strip. Yet none of that actually helps me stop worrying.

Last year was a big one for me. Can't remember a bigger year among the thirty or so I had before. And I realize that most of the decisions I made during that year were motivated by some kind of fear. I saw a lot of scary stuff last year. Friends and family had their lives made very difficult through lost work, or illness, or legal troubles. So I made it my goal last year to do everything I could to avoid those problems.

Heck, if I'm completely honest, my whole life's course has been altered due to some kind of fear. The reason I live in a cushy house instead of a cardboard box where I write my fifth sequel to Batman vs. Sharktopus on the back of a Chik-Fil-A wrapper is because I made the decision some time ago to put my financial well-being ahead of my dreams, a decision deeply rooted in the fear that I couldn't somehow do both simultaneously.

The strangest part? I can't say that I made the wrong decision. Fear has led me to a pretty good place, despite Yoda's strictest warning.  Doesn't stop me from dwelling on the woulda-couldas, though, and it doesn't stop the fear. 

Guys, I really want a teddy bear!

Kill Your Guilty Pleasures

I don't spend a lot of time conversing with people.  I'm pretty much the only person I know who would rather give a talk in front of a crowd of strangers than have one casual conversation with an acquaintance on a comfy sofa.  The sofa is just out of my element.  I'd be uncomfortable, and when I'm uncomfortable, I make sure that YOU'RE uncomfortable, too.  Usually by talking about some crazy Japanese cartoon I just watched or counting out loud the hairs on the back of my hand or resting my chin on your shoulder and sniffing really loudly.  So, yeah, I just stay away from casual conversation.

HOWEVER, in my imagined conversations with the friends I'd probably make some day if I could bring myself to talk to someone I haven't already known for ages, I get asked the question, "What is your guilty pleasure movie?"  And I always take great pride in answering, "I don't have one."  Which, of course, I say out loud, to myself, as I'm brushing my teeth preparing for bed, because that's when these hallucinatory encounters tend to take place.

When I think of the term "guilty pleasure," I usually think of "shame," and shame is an emotion that I just can't get behind.  In general, I've really started to dig emotions in the relatively brief period of time I've started experiencing them.  I even dig some of the "bad" emotions, like sadness, when I'm feeling particularly bohemian.  But, man, I just can't get behind the emotion of shame.  I think of shame like a terrible taste - it's your bodies way of slapping that moldy sock out of your mouth and shouting "Stop that!"

So my question is this:  If you genuinely enjoy something, WHY on earth would you compare it to a moldy sock?

Near as I can figure, there are two reasons to have a guilty response to the things that you like:

EITHER

Your "guilty pleasure" is something that society tells you you shouldn't like (for example, you marathon Hugh Grant rom-coms, even though critics and feminists and everyone else call them unrealistic).

OR

You like something that's really, genuinely bad for your physical or emotional well-being (maybe you eat the whole large tub of butterproduct-saturated popcorn at the movie theater).

Okay, I guess there's technically a third option, where you indulge in something that you know is bad "ironically," but that's really just the first option rephrased in a more pretentious manner, and you really should stop being such a GIT, man!

So this is my opinion:  if your guilty pleasure falls into the first category, STOP FEELING ASHAMED.  Seriously, just celebrate it!  People are more accepting of diversity now than ever before.  States are legalizing marriages for same-sex couples, "bronies" are a thing, and there's even a gender-neutral Easy Bake Oven.  If someone else is telling you not to enjoy something that genuinely makes you happy, then they're the ones with the issue, not you.  Frankly, we're all adults now (whatever the cuss that means).  There's no popularity contest to win, so there's no cause to feel shame over something that brings you joy, even if other people find it odd.

BUT, if you're indulging in something that's causing feelings of shame because it's genuinely bad for you, then... STOP DOING IT.  Quit smoking.  Put the lid back on that tub of cookie-dough ice cream.  Turn off Jersey Shore.  Your mind is trying to save you from killing yourself/deadening the keen intellect you were born with.  You should listen to your mind.  It's probably a little smarter than you give it credit for.

Yeah, that's right.  I just told you that you're enjoying things wrong.

I don't generally admit to guilty pleasures, then, because I don't think I should feel ashamed of anything I genuinely enjoy.  The only time I ever really fall into the "guilty pleasure" thing is when I'm not sure what my reaction to a particular stimulus is.  For example, I've been watching this really crazy anime called Spice and Wolf which is about this travelling merchant in some ancient European analogue world who teams up with this ancient wolf demigod thingy.  I love the depiction of medieval economics and the great banter between the two lead characters, but I get conflicted because the wolf character is often portrayed as a completely nude woman with dog ears and a tail.  So it's this show that's got some really strong points to it, and the naked woman's not even that provocative.  I mean, she falls somewhere between "disrobed Barbie doll" and "Lady Godiva" on the Virgin-Whore scale of titillation, so it doesn't really make me feel skeezy that way, but then there's the fact that she's actually supposed to be a naked adolescent girl, and that just makes the whole thing even more unsavory.  BUT, then again, it is anime, where everyone looks the same age no matter how old they actually are, and...

See?  This is why I stay the heck out of casual conversation.

*snnnnnnnnnnnnnnnfffffffffffffff*

Death to Plushies!

You ever watch a movie and see something happen which makes absolutely no sense, contributes nothing to the plot, and then it's never brought up again? There's a term for that, apparently.  It's called a "Big-Lipped Alligator Moment." There's a reason for that name. I'm not going into it. Look it up.

Now, everyone's taste may vary. Some of you guys might like these scenes, but in my mind, a "BLAM" is almost completely unjustifiable.  A non-sequitur sequence usually indicates of poor planning or storytelling on the part of the writer: either they fell short on their run time, or they couldn't find a way to make the music someone worked SO HARD ON fit into the plot and didn't have the heart to cut it. These sequences are sloppy, untidy, and reek of meddling from someone who doesn't share the creative vision that the rest of the writers, directors, composers, and... um... sculptors had.

You know what got me thinking about the "BLAM"? This guy:

For the record,  I hate this guy.

If you haven't seen Frozen: The Road to Broadway yet (no, that's not the actual title, but it works), then you might be under the impression from all the marketing that Olaf the snowman is a major character. If he were, then you can bet your pink-striped knickers that Frozen  wouldn't be sitting at the top of my list of Best Movies of 2013. As is, Olaf's in about a dozen scenes, with maybe 20-30 minutes of screen time. I'd need a stopwatch to make sure, but, if I go see Frozen again, I plan to spend as little time as possible thinking about the snowman and instead focus on trying to find the Rapunzel cameo.

Now, here's my question for those of you who have seen the movie: What happens if you take Olaf out completely? What plot holes would need patching? What narrative elements are left out?

Olaf's the comic relief, but the movie's already populated with a dozen very funny characters ("all men do it"). Olaf himself doesn't have a compelling character; he's completely static. I actually watched the movie again and mentally removed Olaf from every scene he was in. The characters barely acknowledged him (except to occasionally set him up for a punch line) and he made no meaningful contribution to the plot. By my calculation, Olaf's function in the narrative could just as easily be filled by a lock pick and a Hallmark card.

EXCEPT... then there wouldn't be the presumable hundreds of thousands of dollars Disney will make off of merchandise with Olaf's visage on it.

That's it. That's the only thing that changes about Frozen as a whole if Olaf were to be left in the "poor ideas" bin. He is utterly without motivation, development, or personality outside of a few "wacky" characteristics. He's the latest in long line of characters created seemingly just to sell toys and lunch boxes. 

I call these types of characters "plushies." And, if you couldn't tell I %^#*in' hate them.

The "plushy" is a jaded marketing attempt to reach a broader audience when they don't feel the story is strong enough on its own to appeal to more than one demographic category. The plushy is every talking animal sidekick, every snarky creature voiced by whatever prominent comedian happens to be on the pop culture radar. They almost always feel foreign within the context of the film.

Now, sometimes, the plushy works out. Long time readers will know that the bane of my existence - my arch-nemesis, if you will - is Maximus, the horse from Tangled. He defies the internal logic of the film (how in the world does a horse lead the palace guard when it can't talk?!). He defies the external logic of... reality (horse tails can't move like that). And, worst of all, he won't return my phone calls.

AND YET... if you take Maximus out of the film, Tangled needs something in his place. Someone has to chase Flynn Rider. Maybe Russell Crowe could have done it, I don't know. But the point is that Maximus - or some three-dimensional equivalent character - has to be there.

In fact, a friend of mine actually argues that if Maximus were replaced by a less toyetic human counterpart, he would immediately be less interesting. That.. may be true, but I'm not yet ready to concede that point yet.

But that's one of the funny things - Disney's plushy characters are usually significant to the plot in some way. You can't take Sebastian out of The Little Mermaid, or Mushu out of Mulan, or Lumiere out of Beauty and the Beast. Heck, Stitch is arguably one of the greatest characters Disney ever churned out, and he can't NOT be a stuffed toy. 

These two, on the other hand?

COMPLETELY useless.

I'm not so naive as to think that all stories would be better off without a character who would look good sitting in the crane game machine at Denny's, but I think children's entertainment in general has proven that the marketable characters they introduce can be characters first and toys second. It just takes a little bit of extra effort on the part of the writers and editors, but it brings the quality of the story way up. Kids still get their Happy Meal figures, and adults get to not rip their hair out every time Bartok shows up again.

By the way, my friend from a few paragraphs earlier actually helped me to identify the first real "plushies" of modern cinema:

Take 'em out, replace 'em with a PDA, and the plot resolves exactly the same way.

Daffy Laffy Taffy Time

Ah, Laffy Taffy. As far as candy goes, it's pretty okay. But the REAL draw of Laffy Taffy is the joke on the wrapper, right? I mean, who could POSSIBLY resist the riotous pun-laden humor of the Laffy Taffy Joked Submission Brigade.

Okay, I imagine that a LOT of people find Laffy Taffy jokes unfunny. Those people are DOING IT WRONG! Yes, there is a right way to read Laffy Taffy wrappers, and it'll increase your enjoyment of both the candy and the comedy a hundredfold.

The Braddy Laffy Taffy technique is simple, but it must be executed precisely - you must read the punch line for the OPPOSITE joke. Allow me to demonstrate with the wrapper I have before me:

Rebekah P. asks: Which runs faster, hot or cold?
Answer: They both have sandy claws.

Get it? SANDY CLAWS!

You don't get it? Well, let's look at the other pair:

Thomas B. asks: What does Christmas have to do with a cat in the desert?
Answer: Hot. Everyone can catch a cold.

See? It really IS better!

...

You still don't agree, hmm? Maybe I'm the only one who finds surreality so engaging.

Storybook Endings?

Y'all remember when I wrote a few months back about The Night Circus. Well, I've had a few months to think about the story more, and I've come across another aspect of the narrative that just bothers me. I really don't want to dwell on the negative aspects of the book any more than I already have, especially since I still think I would recommend The Night Circus to most anyone. However, I missed the book club discussion on The Night Circus when I was sick last month, so I've got to get this out of my system somehow.

So... Bailey.

The character Bailey is a farm boy, but not really the "poor and perfect" variety admired by Princess Buttercup. Well, he's probably poor, but he doesn't have enough of a personality to be considered perfect. His defining characteristic is that he doesn't want to be a farmer anymore... and, really, there's a lot of potential for a good character conflict there. I mean, a young man pursuing his dreams against the wishes of his family could make a pretty compelling story. Someone should write that book.

Shortly after Bailey gets introduced, we're given this little tidbit:

He reads histories and mythologies and fairy tales, wondering why it seems that only girls are ever swept away from their mundane lives on farms by knights or princes or wolves. It strikes him as unfair to not have the same fanciful opportunity himself. And he is not in the position to do any rescuing of his own.

You know, I read that quote, and something about it must have bothered me, although it wasn't apparent at first. Now I think about Bailey's attitude and find two major problems with it.

Firstly, this is a lazy attitude. Someone in the real world with this same attitude would NOT be sympathetic. Such an individual would just be lazy. Even in fiction, characters who simply pine after an escape from their dreary lives are some of the most maligned characters in all of fiction. I'm looking at you, Cinderella!

(That said, I did read a pretty interesting opinion from a friend about why Cinderella actually is an inspirational character. Check it out.)

The second issue I have with Bailey's attitude, though, is that it just ISN'T TRUE. Boys are recued from lives of mundanity in fairy tales and myths ALL THE TIME. The difference, though, is that boys get rescued at the BEGINNING of their stories, while girls get rescued at the END.

Think about it: For every Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty, you've got a Harry Potter or Luke Skywalker. Once the prince comes for the woman, the curtain lowers and the story is over. However, when the mysterious stranger takes the man away from home, there are still a good 350 pages left in the first volume of his seven book series.

So, okay, it's an annoying attitude Bailey has, but I think I'm actually more bugged by what it says about the most common story tropes. Why do these young men have to be swept out from their mundane lives? Why don't we admire them for lifting themselves out from their dissatisfying life? And why can't we have more stories about what happens to women AFTER their "happily ever whatever"?

That last point really came to mind when I watched Pixar's The Incredibles. It's ostensibly a movie about Mr. Incredible, but, really, I think the best, most three-dimensional character was actually Elasti-Girl. She's strong, competent, capable... and a wife and mother.

That's a lot of pondering I've been doing, and, really, I don't have much of a point to make other than the questions I've been asking. If you've got any favorite answers to my questions (self-made fantasy heroes, kick-butt moms, or anything similar), let me know. I'd be interested to read about them.

Further Genre Nonsense

A little while back I rambled on a bit here about how silly genre classifications can be. I've had a couple of different conversations on the subject since then, and... well, my mind hasn't been changed at all. Actually, I've found some new evidence in SUPPORT of my view.

Although your mileage may vary on how credible you find evidence from iTunes.

I've never really used iTunes before about two months ago, and so I've been trying to take advantage of this opportunity by using the very limited amount of money I budget towards music purchases (which seriously boils down to about one song per pay check) to maximize the variety of music I have available to me. So I've been trying to buy music from a lot of different genres, as I really do like music from just about all classifications (well, except country, but even there I can find some artists whose existence makes me happy, even if their music doesn't).

Ad what I've found is that the music genre system - at least as set up by iTunes - is ridiculous. I mean, I have a lot of songs from the "alternative" genre, but what does that even mean? Are Oingo Boingo really in the same category as They Might Be Giants? And, if so, does AWOLNATION belong in that category with them?

And then I wound up with a Gotye song in the same genre as Émilie Simon's "Flowers." Now, I can see that those two songs belong together, but how does iTunes classify them? "Electronic"? Really?

Then, of course, there's the "Christian and Gospel" section of my music library, which is just made up of Robert Gardner's Lamb of God oratorio. Now, sure, it's a Christian production, but musically it seems to me that it fits more in with classical-style music like the Messiah than... this.

But where things REALLY fall apart is in the rock genre. It seems like NO ONE knows what's supposed to go on there. See, they've put Sweet's "Little Willy"

...in same category as Incubus and "Dig"

...where it sits next to "Come On Eileen"

...and... Avenged Sevenfold?

Seriously? Do ANY of those songs really belong in the same category as each other?

Admittedly, if they were really to record all of the complexities of the music genre system, we'd probably use up all the memory available on our little devices with pretty useless information. I mean, how is one to tell the difference between "adult contemporary heavy metal muzak" and "post neo-classical New Age pop rock"? Honestly, the world may not be ready for the answer.

I Believe In Heroes

Maybe I'm the only one this ever happens to.

I caught The Amazing Spider-Man at the dollar theater last night, and I drove home with just this enormous swell of energy in my chest. I was seriously pumped up, like I wanted to go out and punch up all the lizard monsters I could find. As I reflected on the emotional responses I had to the film, I realized that, no, I didn't really want to hurt anything. Rather, I wanted to create. I was inspired, as I often am after a good story, to go out and make something good.

I'm of the opinion that we've been blessed by the recent deluge of superhero movies - and yes, I do mean "blessed." "Blessed" as in "bestowed with good," because as campy, silly, and completely unrealistic as superhero stories are, I believe them to do a very good thing, beyond the pure escapist entertainment they provide. Yes, I loved The Avengers for being a furious fist-pump of a movie, but I also appreciated that it illustrates how important cooperation is. The Dark Knight Rises, though flawed, showed how one man refused to give in to despair despite overwhelming odds. It was a pretty fitting and inspiring conclusion to the best movie portrayal of Batman since Adam West (Yeah, that's my opinion, and I am NOT backing down).

However, of the three prominent superhero movies that came out this year, I think I liked The Amazing Spider-Man the best - which is odd, considering I have next to no real history with the character. Something about the way Peter Parker was portrayed in the new film really spoke to me - a gifted if somewhat awkward young man is granted a lot of power that doesn't immediately make his life better. Rather, he uses that power for selfish ends and learns (the hard way) to accept the responsibility that comes from his growth. More than just about any other superhero movie, The Amazing Spider-Man shows the main character develop in a way I found both profound and deeply personal.

The fact that he got to make out with Emma Stone was just gravy.

Sweet, sweet gravy

At its heart, the superhero concept is a very childish one. Frequently, these stories follow characters who are stuck in a situation beyond their control. By mere chance, they receive some type of gift that grants them power over their circumstances. It's a fantasy a lot of children can relate to, although I know many adults who often feel the same way.

What makes the superhero story so compelling, though, is that in nearly every instance, once the character receives their great power, they ultimately use that power to improve, not only their situation in life, but the lives of their neighbors, their cities, or, in the most dramatic examples, the whole world.

It's basically the only reason a character like Superman exists at all. He's got so much power that, from a narrative perspective, there's almost no illusion of danger. Of course he's going to save the day. He's frickin' Superman.

So if we're not enjoying Superman stories for the action, there's got to be some other reason people keep going back to the man in the red-underpants, and I don't think the reason is hard to grasp. We so often see people in power abuse their position, it's reassuring to think that there could be someone who chooses to use his power for the benefit of others rather than himself. And if someone like Superman can use the strengths he has for good, then, maybe, so can we.

I won't lie. I read this panel in Silver Surfer: Parable and about cried. You can shut up.

Most of these characters are people thrown into situations beyond their control. Rather than just giving up and letting the world run its course, and rather than indulging in their basest cravings, the superhero stands up and fights for what is right. Often, that desire to do good is symbolized by a literal fight, but there are always those scenes of heroes rescuing children that tend to get an honest-to-goodness smile from most audience members. What we see on the screen isn't just the hero winning. It's the hero protecting the less-fortunate and passing on to the next generation the lesson that one person can make a positive difference.

That's the central metaphor behind the superhero. These stories acknowledge that we live in an imperfect world, beset on all sides by corruption and dischord. Those negative forces exist, but, as long as there are good men and women willing to do the right thing, those forces can not win.

And that is amazing.

Persona and the Power of Love*

Can I do this? Can I blog about a video game? Can I talk fondly about a Japanese role-playing game without looking like a complete anti-social nerdbag?

...

...

...

I'ma do it anyway.

Back in my teenage years, I played a lot of Japanese fantasy role-playing games. I felt like revisiting the genre a few months ago, so I picked up Persona 3: FES off the Playstation Network. Persona 3 is the story of a student whose school turns into a massive dungeon at night full of monsters which he fights with the help of a robot and a bunch of different monsters that he collects and then summons by shooting himself in the head.

It is, without a doubt, the most Japanese thing I've ever seen.

Truthfully, I've been enjoying the heck out of this game - not so much for the gameplay as for the story. And, I guess, I'm not enjoying the main story as much as the side story. See, the monsters that you collect throughout the dungeon actually grow in power as you strengthen your relationships with the people you meet in your day-to-day life. That means that you are literally fighting evil with the power of friendship.

Did I mention this game was Japanese?

Every day, your character goes to school and has the option to interact with several different types of people, usually inspiring them to make some real positive changes in their own lives. A lot of these stories actually wind up being far more interesting than the main plot.

There aren't necessarily a lot of original stories here, per se, but there is a lot of emotion. I'm always surprised when a video game gets an emotional response from me, so I tend to dig it. My favorite stories from the game (so far) include:

• Kazushi, a track star whose nephew is suffering from a debilitating physical injury. The athlete makes a deal with his nephew - if Kaz wins at a regional tournament, the young boy will go in for physical therapy. When Kaz develops a knee injury of his own, he has to decide whether to honor his promise to his nephew or drop from the tournament to take care of his own health.

• Bunkichi and Mitsuko, an elderly couple whose son taught at the high school until he died in a car accident. The school moves to have the tree commemorating their son's death cut down to make way for a new expansion to the school. At first hurt by the decision, the couple decides to let the school expand without raising any complaints, as their son would want his students to have the best possible educational opportunities available to them.

• And then there's Mutatsu, an old monk who drove his wife and son away by putting his work ahead of them. Over the course of the game, the hero wears down his callous attitude and convinces him to ask his family for forgiveness and try to win them back.

Again, we're probably not going to win any Emmy's here, but the side stories in Persona 3 offer quite a bit of complexity to an otherwise straightforward "Them monsters - kill dead!" plot.

Of course, there are a few problems with some of these side stories.

• My fledgling feminism is slightly provoked that seemingly all of the female characters you encounter are really only made happier by however strong their romantic connection with the male lead is. So far, the emotional resolution to these plots is ALWAYS a fade-to-black PG scene in the girl's bedroom. And that's just... well, it's kinda ridiculous.

• Oh, man. Then there's this guy. TV Tanaka, a prominent shopping network personality (think Billy Mays, only creepier) tends to hang around malls at night, trying to talk underaged boys into modelling in their underwear.
  
  No, I'm not stretching anything. Within the context of the game, that's actually what happens. Guy's a creep!


• Of course, the biggest problem with the game MIGHT just be the fact that, after completing nearly 50% of the whole thing, my Playstation decided to wipe my save file, meaning I have to start all the way from the beginning if I want to find out how the rest of the stories play out.

And, truthfully, I'm considering it. I mean, it's an enormous time sink, and it'd probably be December before I actually finished the game ("MELLY CHRISTMAS! YOU HAVE COMPLETED A GREAT GAME. AND PROOVED THE JUSTICE OF OUR CULTURE. NOW GO AND REST OUR HEROES!"). Still, I find myself actually wanting to know what happens to these characters.

The writer in me sees something really important here. Well, obviously. Otherwise, the writer in me wouldn't have WRITTEN ABOUT IT!

I've been drawn in to the world of Persona 3 not because of the gameplay but because of the characters. I want to see them achieve their goals, and I want to see the struggles they go through. With NaNoWriMo looming on the horizon, I think it's time I gave some thought to side-characters and motivation. Even the most peripheral of characters deserves a bit of development.

It's kinda like how those high school drama teachers spend so much time trying to get all 100 members of the ensemble in the annual musical production to write a page-long biography of their character. Turns out that attention to detail really is important.

*Originally, I'd titled this post "Happy Friendship Time: Ultimate Persona Monster Fighter Okay!" I thought that'd be a little culturally insensitive.

Those Darn Mormons: Tardiness and Entitlement

I don't know what it was - perhaps it's the late hours, the early mornings, or the fact that I had only one person come to my ward choir exercise I prepared. Whatever the cause, Sunday afternoon found me sitting in the church pew all sorts of ticked off.

I sat in church waiting for my 1:00 meeting to start at 1:15, slowly getting more and more annoyed. Anyone who lives in Utah is likely familiar with the term "Mormon Standard Time." Whoever coined the term observed a tendency among members of the LDS church to begin most activities late. Also, that person was probably a sadist.

While I waited, I shared with a friend my frustration that the choir rehearsal I had planned for that morning had been such a failure. My friend - a lovely young lady who is obviously very intelligent - simply shrugged her shoulders and said, "You probably should have offered refreshments."

And THAT just sent me over the edge.

Now, I understand that religion in contemporary culture tends to fill a need usually associated with social clubs in the past, but there IS, unless I'm mistaken, an element of worship and devotion still involved with religious exercises. Am I right in being distressed that the LDS culture gotten so entitled that they feel they can show up twenty or thirty minutes late to everything and expect to be fed?

Or is someone just being Mr. Crankypants?

Laughing Stock: Art and Self-Reference

I've been pretty regularly involved in the community theater scene for several years now - primarily in Magna's theater scene - but I haven't been able to attend as many professional quality shows as I'd like. It was a real treat, then, to attend a production of Laughing Stock put on by the Pioneer Theater Company. I loved the show - and, interestingly enough, I don't think I would have enjoyed the show half as much as I did if I weren't so involved in theater on my own.

First, let me just say that I've always loved going to the Pioneer Theater Company, and wish I had the $$$ to make it a regular event. Back when I was in junior high (a remarkable phase of life, to be sure), I was part of a program that organized field trips to every one of the PTC's productions, meaning I got to see top-notch theatrical entertainment about once every other month. I think the PTC was where I first saw Arthur Miller's The Crucible, which I've always loved because of despite how depressing it is.

If you've never seen Laughing Stock, the plot focuses on a small theater company which performs in a renovated barn. You get to see nearly every aspect of putting on a show in a small theater - fundraising, auditions, rehearsals, productions, and all the backstage antics of actors between scenes. As someone who's DONE some theater, I related to a lot of what I saw.

Strangely enough, one of the scenes that resonated most with me was a tiny, almost incidental moment during the second act. We're backstage during a performance of Hamlet and have just watched a stage hand misplace the prop to be used as the skull of Yorick (a gag I simply CAN'T spoil). Distraught, the stage hand draws a skull face on a cantaloupe to substitute in. Thankfully, they find the real prop just in time, but the cantaloupe remains on stage. During one of the many emotionally stirring monologues, which we actually get to see thanks to a clever lighting effect, one of the actors grabs the cantaloupe, looks at it, laughs, and then shows it wordlessly to another actor who also smiles. It's a completely unessential moment that says so much about the small theater experience.

I found one aspect of the show troubling, and it's something to do with the story itself, not the production, which was above reproach as far as I can tell. See, this was a play ABOUT putting on a play, and as delightful as it was to watch Laughing Stock, I worry that it's really only enjoyable to others who have PUT ON plays. I'm sure most theater-goers can relate to a lot of the events portrayed in the show, but to REALLY UNDERSTAND TM the whole experience, they have to be actors themselves.

I sometimes worry that self-referential art movements limit the number of people that can get involved. It bothers me mainly because I'm one who feels art is really for the masses, and not for the elite initiated few. I may be off base here (and I likely am), but I see the tendency towards self-reference primarily in those art forms that have lost touch with the populace at large.

It's especially evident in poetry. I find a lot of poetry written about poetry, which is cool and all - if you're a poet. Otherwise, it just comes across as smarmy self-congratulations. Poets like to think poetry is all that and a bag of Lay's Baked Potato Chips, but the rest of the world thinks it's ludicrous.

I think it's really easy for artists to talk about how great their art is - heck, I do it all the time. After that, it's only understandable that they would want to create art ABOUT that art. Really, though, it seems to me that the artist's challenge is to make their art relevant to people who don't care about the artistic process at all.

Not an earth-shattering revelation, I'm sure, but it's something to think about.

Excuse Me?

It's not intentional, but this year is shaping up to be the year Braddy works hardest on self improvement.


That's the spittle of discipline.

Anyway, you remember when I read Leadership and Self-Deception a couple of months ago? Actually, this might be the book that set the whole tone of the year for me. There's one little bit from the book that I've been thinking about a lot. I can't quote it exactly, so I'll have to paraphrase:

People often get so hung up in their own concerns that they don't recognize that other people have needs. The "self-deception" in the title of the book refers to our ability to objectify others in a professional environment, so that people become either tools for us to use to our benefit or obstacles standing in the way of us achieving our goals. What this means, practically, is that most people aren't really concerned with what our excuses are for failure in the workplace (or in life, for that matter). They only care that we're inconveniencing them.

This understanding that people are usually so focused on their own concerns that they don't have time for my rationalizations has led to two changes in my behavior. The first one is, I'd say, almost unequivocally a good one: I've stopped making excuses. Since nobody cares what they are, if I screw up, I've consciously tried to apologize without justifying my actions and promise to do better next time - which, really, is about all anyone can do.

UNFORTUNATELY, I've also come to expect this behavior from everyone else, which means that I have NO patience AT ALL for other peoples' excuses.

Now, like most self-deluded people, I think I'm right in not accepting excuses. I know a woman who always shifts the blame for her failures. Every time something goes wrong - and I mean every time - she either spends the next half-hour either looking for evidence to exhonerate or just straight up blames someone else for the failure. I kinda lost all patience with her when she forgot to complete a project and then turned to me and said, "Why didn't you remind me?"

If you ask me, that's unacceptable behavior. I refuse to be held accountable for anyone else completing their given responsibilities unless I'm their supervisor in some capacity (which, in this case, I'm not). HOWEVER, I recognize that the way to change this behavior in others is not necessarily through verbal chastisement, and it CERTAINLY isn't through grudge-holding.

Which, I guess, is the ultimate problem - if I get fed up with other people's excuses, it hurts no one but myself.

A Modesty Proposal, or, Braddy's Being Sexist Again

I saw this picture make the rounds on Facebook the other day:


I get that it's a joke... but this poster REALLY ticked me off all the same.

I'll get this out of the way right now - I'm a male, the latest in a long line of oppressive white male so-and-sos, so I'm liable to get a few things wrong. I may even come across as (dare I say it?) SEXIST. Still, if ever there was a forum for sharing one's opinion, no matter how ill-informed, the internet is it.

Please take all the time you want to explain how wrong I am in the comments section below.

I take issue with the poster above, first of all, because it implies that the primary reason for women's modesty is to prevent male misbehavior. I hope we can all agree on how stupid that is - an adult male is fully capable of making his own responsible decisions, regardless of how the people around him dress. If he's not capable of that, he's a disgrace to his sex. It's POSSIBLE (and I know of no other way to emphasize the word "possible" in text than I have just now) that a woman subconsciously invites mistreatment by the way she dresses, but that doesn't make the man's behavior any less reprehensible or reduce his culpability in any way. Period.

I also resent the implication that modesty implies sexlessness... although that does seem to be the case in the picture above. I've seen PLENTY of apparel that is attractive, colorful, and modest, while it still emphasizes a woman's... um... femininity and... sexuality. Can I just say "curves"? Or is that weird?

Finally, I get the impression that this picture sets up a false dichotomy - clothing either expresses sexuality or represses it. To which I say, "Thpbpthpbh!" It's entirely possible that a woman who chooses to dress modestly has something in mind OTHER than hiding her curves...

...feels weird to say that...

There are a lot of things a person can express with their clothing - respect, professionalism, mourning, celebration, relaxation - that have nothing to do with sex. A person's sexuality is ONE contributing factor to their attire, but it's hardly the ONLY one.

Maybe I'm out of line here. I am, after all, a member of the reigning patriarchal religious order which endorses a standard of modesty among its members. As a Latter-day Saint, I frequently participate in the sacramental ordinance, which means I stand up and walk around the chapel to give the bread and water to the congregation. Now, I like to try to keep my thoughts clean ESPECIALLY when involved in a religious ritual, and when a woman is wearing a low-cut dress, and I'm standing over them... let's just say I wish I had Batman around to keep my mind on task.

Is there ANY subject I can't link to Batman somehow?

So, yeah, I appreciate modesty, even though I recognize that women who choose to dress modestly likely (hopefully) do so without feeling obligated to out of deference to my feelings. Even if I've overstepped some gender-role bounds, I hope y'all respect my opinion while I respect your right not to listen to a ^#$%in' word I say.

Workin' Day Blues

I don't talk a lot about my job here for a LOT of reasons.

1. I work for health care, and I'd rather not mention ANY stories about the people I encounter than possibly violate privacy agreements.
2. I'd rather my employers not think I spend a lot of time blogging during work hours (I do most of my blog writing during my lunch breaks, FYI).
3. Even though I LIKE my job, I don't get a lot of SATISFACTION out of it, so I tend not to have much to say.

Anyway, yesterday was the big annual performance review day. I came out of my review feeling... pretty good, actually. My boss told me that she understood I was really just working here to pass the time; however, she said that, if I decided to make a career here, she would be willing to help me get the training I need to advance in the company.

I don't care HOW much you like/dislike your current job. Finding out there's room for advancement is a pretty big deal. It's nice to know people like you.

I've been thinking a lot about what I've been doing with my life recently - mainly, that I haven't quite accomplished what I've wanted to since graduating college. I frequently hear that I could do whatever I want to do with my life - and sometimes I believe it. However, it seems like I've recently been seized by I-don't-know-quite-what. Some ghost of complacency, I guess.

I've been working my way through Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar. The other day I stumbled across the following passage, and I couldn't help but laugh when I read it:

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor... and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Maybe I'm just too much the typical College of English graduate disaffected with life, but I can relate to what Esther Greenwood felt in this passage (hopefully, that's the ONLY way I relate to Esther - I haven't finished the book quite yet, but I've got a good idea how it ends).

I've got so many things I want to DO with my life, I can't seem to pick just one and focus on it enough to go anywhere with it. I want to be an author, but I can't always bring myself to dedicate the daily effort needed to reach that goal. Same with art and drawing. Heck, this even extends beyond my professional life. Someone asked me the other day if I want to get married some day, and, after thinking about it a minute, I had to say, "I don't think so. I don't know."

Bleagh.

Anyway, it's nice to know that if I CAN'T get out of this funk for whatever reason (although I'd say there's a good reason coming), I still have some room to grow. Thanks, boss!

In Which Braddy Wonders if He Isn't Racist

NOTE: The following is my personal response to the movie The Help - not a review. I'll likely spoil a lot of plot developments for people who haven't seen the movie, so if you want a spoiler-free review, please disconnect from the internet, because you're looking in the wrong place.

Maybe it's because I come from one of the most culturally homogeneous states in America, but movies about African-American history always provoke a LOT of thought... and, sadly, a lot of skepticism. I watch movies like Glory Road and Remember the Titans, for example, and can't help but feel that the stories are a tamed and a bit white-washed (if you'll forgive the deliberate and racially-charged pun). The racism always feels a bit cushioned and tailor-made for optimum drama - almost as if Hollywood doesn't actually WANT to promote open and frank discussion of some of America's most historically shameful behavior.

I felt similar unease after watching The Help - which, for the record, is very well-done and thought-provoking. The film balances its presentation of discrimination and hate with scenes of real human heart and comedy, so the whole thing never feels too oppressive.

And that may be my biggest problem with the movie: The Help treats the race issue in 1960's Mississippi almost as if it were the plot of a sitcom, with a despicable, baby-eating villain who gets an ironic and "cah-RAZ-y" comeuppance by the end of the show. The film tries to be a comedy and a drama, but it really can't have it both ways. As a result, we wind up with some... awkward moments.

The character Minny (played by Octavia Spencer) best exemplifies what I'm talking about. She is something of a comic relief character: sassy, sarcastic, and headstrong, with a deep and abiding love for fried chicken. Now, maybe I'm overly sensitive, but I saw that as a potentially negative stereotype.

Then, about halfway through the movie, I experienced about the most uncomfortable laugh I've ever had in a movie. Minny visits her employer - a lower class white woman who is, herself, quite comical. Minny tries to speak to the woman through a locked door, but the woman repeatedly tells her to go home. Finally, Minny charges into the door and breaks it open. The audience bursts into laughter... and then we cut to the woman, lying on the floor and covered in blood. She just miscarried.

I've been thinking about the character Minny ever since, wondering if she was an unintentional stereotype, or maybe she represents a purposeful attempt to reclaim negative black stereotypes in the same way Dick Gregory tried to reclaim the word "nigger" with his autobiography (worth checking out for anyone interested in the Civil Rights movement).

In the end, I have to say it doesn't really matter what she "represents." Minny's portrayed sympathetically and, more importantly, three-dimensionally. True, she's a poor woman with several kids, an abusive husband, and a love for fried chicken, but she also has a strong sense of justice, a good sense of humor, and powerful friendships Mr. Rogers would be envious of. So maybe I'm the racist one here.

The Help, though, is worth seeing whether I'm racist or not.

Damsels and Heroines: A Closer Look at Disney's Princesses (*UPDATED for 2013*)

Even though I'm not a little girl anymore... *ahem*... I still love a good Disney animated film. That said, I've taken some issue with how the company chooses to market itself ("If you don't go to Disneyland, your childhood is incomplete and your parents hate you"). I've been most fascinated by the recent emphasis on "princesses," long a staple of Disney's stories. Now, Disney Princesses are a brand unto themselves, marketed towards little girls' romantic fantasies - and I have to say I'm not sure these ladies are the best role models a girl could have.

My family's full of Disney fans, so the shows often pop up in conversation. My brother and I just had a discussion about the Disney Princesses - we tried to figure out which ones were dynamic characters who grew over the course of their story and which were static and unchanging. Going one step further, I've decided to take a look at the "official" Disney princesses, one at a time, to figure out which ones I'd want my hypothetical daughter to adulate.

Specifically, I'll look at whether these animated young women are convincingly empowered protagonists ("Heroines") who fail and overcome in true heroic fasion, or whether they're passive players in their own stories ("Damsels") who wait for someone else to solve their problems for them.

Note (and this really should go without saying): I make no claim to impartiality. I am, as always, EXTREMELY biased.

Snow White (Snow White)

Arguably, Snow White's one of the more passive Disney princesses. Her problems are out of her control almost entirely - it's not her fault that she's so pretty. Her jealous stepmother tries to kill her a couple of times out of jealousy - nearly succeeds, too, thanks to that poisoned apple. Poor, trusting Snow White never learned to be wary of ugly strangers...

The closest Snow White comes to actively participating in her own fate is through the service she provides the dwarves - they protect her, and, in return, she cooks and cleans for them. Is that proactive? Maybe, but it's hardly progressive.

Greatest Strength: Domesticity
Greatest Weakness: Gullibility
Verdict: Damsel


Cinderella (Cinderella)

Again, we've got the classic fairy tale trope - evil stepmother inflicts hardship upon a beautiful and undeserving child. Now, I find Lady Tremaine's favorable treatment of her natural children over her adopted child an understandable impulse from a stepmother (not sympathetic, perhaps, but understandable). So, again, it's not really Cinderella's fault that the world's so cruel to her.

...except the world's NOT cruel to her. Everyone loves her - dogs, mice, princes... Heck, she even has a laws-of-nature-breaking fairy godmother come in to salvage her big prom night. A "bibbidi bobbidi ex machina," if you will. I doubt I'd do much for myself if I could convince birds to do it for me.

Greatest Strength: Animal Charisma
Greatest Weakness: Poor Familial Relations
Verdict: Damsel


Aurora (Sleeping Beauty)

The poster child of passive princessdom actually gets a bit of a bad rap. True, Aurora spends at least half the movie asleep, literally waiting for a man to "bring her to life," as Amy Lee would say. She does absolutely nothing to avoid her fate.

I tend to be a bit more sympathetic towards Aurora, though, since she is kept in the dark by everyone around her. The fairies who look after her never bother to explain where she came from, and her parents didn't so much as write her a note.

I feel bad for Aurora. I hate to call her a "Damsel" - "Victim" is more like it, although that term's not big on dignity, either.

Greatest Strength: A Mean Three-Step
Greatest Weakness: Chronic Fatigue
Verdict: Damsel


Ariel (The Little Mermaid)

The most sexualized of all the Disney princes is also the most under-aged. Shame on you, Disney.

Going chronologically, Ariel's probably the first of the Disney princesses to take any real action on her own. She decides on what she wants (a man) and does everything she can to get him, up to and including making a deal with the devil. So, in an almost refreshing change of pace, Ariel's actually the cause of her own problems.

Unfortunately, Ariel's never really called upon to change as a result of what she's done (well, I guess she changes from a mermaid to a human, but... shut up). She doesn't really atone for her mistakes, and her father and boyfriend are the ones who wind up fixing everything. Ariel's just a flighty teenage girl who falls in love with a boy her dad doesn't approve of. All Eric needs is a leather jacket.

Greatest Strength: Daddy's Girl
Greatest Weakness: Hormones
Verdict: Damsel


Belle (Beauty and the Beast)

At first glance, Belle appears pretty helpless. She can't keep Gaston from courting her, she can't run away from the Beast without getting attacked by wolves, and she can't break out of the cellar to run and rescue her love. So, really, it seems like she belongs right smack dab in the center of the "Damsel" camp with a guitar singing "Michael Row Your Boat Ashore."

However, Belle's not powerless just because she can't bust through an oak door. She bravely offers to trade her life for her father's, amd she refuses to put up with the Beast's anger and childishness. I'd call Belle a "Heroine," even though she's more Florence Nightingale than Xena, Warrior Princess.

Greatest Strength: Literacy
Greatest Weakness: Weak Arms
Verdict: Heroine


Jasmine (Aladdin)

Jasmine's the only Disney princess I have no strong opinions about. Let's see if I can change that...

Agrabah's princess undergoes SOMETHING like character development, I guess - she runs away from home because she's dissatisfied with palatial life, falls for a homeless guy, and... umm... eventually gets to marry him? Like so many characters from romances, Jasmine doesn't seem to actually grow out of her weaknesses as much as she forgets about them because she's so "in love."

Still, Jasmine does come off a bit more confident and self-assured than a lot of the other princesses on the list. She stands up to Jafar, even when threatened with death and... other discomforts (Jafar basically threatens to rape her - intense crap for a kid's flick). Oh, and her singing voice is done by Lea Salonga, which is pretty cool.

Greatest Strength: Stubbornness
Greatest Weakness: Stubbornness
Verdict: Heroine


Pocahontas (Pocahontas)

Say what you will about the movie itself (and there's a LOT to be said), the titular character herself ranks among the strongest, most selfless of Disney women. True, she's dissatisfied with life for no real reason. I guess deep down she was waiting for her great white prince to come...

Awkward.

Well, in any case, literally throwing yourself in harm's way to protect someone you love earns you hero points on just about any rubric.

Greatest Strength: Selflessness
Greatest Weakness: Historical Innacuracy
Verdict: Heroine


Fa Mulan (Mulan)

It'd be too easy to look at Mulan, imagine her swinging a sword, mark down "Heroine," and be done with it. However, that's only half the story. While it's true that Mulan becomes a great soldier (she's perhaps the only Disney princess who can actually fight), it's important to remember that Mulan's story is kicked off when SHE SCREWS UP.

Mulan makes mistakes - a lot of them. She embarrasses her family, runs away from home, and impersonates a soldier. She breaks a lot of rules, and a lot of laws.

She also does her best to make things right on her own, rather than waiting for someone else to fix everything. That, to me, is what sets her ahead in the grand tally.

Greatest Strength: Transvestism
Greatest Weakness: Eddie Murphy
Verdict: Heroine


Tiana (The Princess and the Frog)

You know, for a movie set in colorful New Orleans, I found The Princess and the Frog to be a bit... bland. Tiana's perhaps one of the least well-rounded characters on the list, including the girl who spends the entirety of her own movie ASLEEP.

Okay, maybe that's a bit harsh. I'm just bothered by the fact that Tiana's main goal (to open her own restaurant) is stalled by her magical transformation into a frog - an obstacle that has NO thematic relation to her character arc.

As a character, though, I think Tiana's great. She works hard to be the best at what she loves to do, and she turns that into her career.

Also, there's an alligator or something in there.

Greatest Strength: Culinary Genius
Greatest Weakness: Umm... she works TOO hard?
Verdict: Heroine


Rapunzel (Tangled)

Man, I love this character.

Rapunzel is one of the few Disney heroines whose growth actually FEELS like growth. She starts off the film naive, immature, and unsure of herself. Eventually, she matures into a self-sacrificing yet strong young woman. She makes the difficult decision to leave the only mother she's ever known and sacrifice the thing that makes her special to get out from under Gothel's tyrrany. Yeah, the AUDIENCE knows Mother Gothel is evil, but Rapunzel clearly doesn't. So the audience gets the privilege of watching everything her life is built on crumble.

To her credit, Rapunzel handles it all well - mostly. She comes out in the end a little sadder, a little wiser, but still the same cheerful young woman she was when she started.

Greatest Strength: Follicle Fortitude
Greatest Weakness: That ^#$%in' Horse!
Verdict: Heroine

Merida(Brave)

Yes, Brave was a Pixar film, not a Disney one. Merida was coronated, though, so she belongs on the list.

Merida's an interesting character. She's a fiery redhead with a fierce sense of independence and a desire to break out of the role society demands of her - both attributes which cause problems for her nation and her parents. So she's basically Ariel with legs and a Scottish brogue.

Merida comes off better than Ariel, though. She takes responsibility for her actions and tries to fix them. Unfortunately, she isn't really forced to grow up by her experiences. Her mother changes more than Merida does.

Still a pretty awesome character, though.

Greatest Strength: Archery
Greatest Weakness: Combs
Verdict: Heroine

Anna and Elsa(Frozen)

Does... does Disney get it now?

Here we have two great characters - Anna, an excitable young woman whose wild emotions tend to cause problems, and Elsa, a literal "ice queen" who fears her own capacity to harm. Both get into trouble in equal measure, and both, from time to time, need help getting out of it. Individually, I may have had problems with these two, but together they make for one of the most interesting relationships Disney has ever depicted.

The relationship is so good, in fact, that I'll let it slide that Disney basically made a movie where the conflict was instigated by one woman's mood swings.

Greatest Strength: Sisterly Affection
Greatest Weakness: Global Warming
Verdict: Damsel AND Heroine (but which one's which?)

CONCLUSION

It looks like Disney has made an effort to make their female leads more proactive as the years go by. In years past, the princesses themselves were almost completely devoid of personality, standing in the center of their stories while the plot happened around them.

Disney's come a long way since then. The most explicit efforts to make strong female leads in Disney films (especially Mulan and Tiana) feel a bit insincere, almost like pandering. But the women of Disney have started to feel a lot less like perfect oil paintings and more like real people with the ability to influence their own destinies. Well done, indeed.