Yugh, all these papers are kinda gritty- so that's why I have to go through them now, acknowledge their contents, then throw them out!
"REPAIRS TO CLOSE LANDMARK"
Due to an earthquake I'd never heard of (5.8 magnitude last August.. I vaguely remember people mentioning that), the Washinton Monument is scheduled to be closed in September and will remain so for 12 to 18 months. It will be "shrouded with scaffolding".
So if you've ever wondered how any secret government organizations can sneakily upgrade various monuments with hi-tech gear, well, now's the time to check it out.
"Between Friends" Comic strip
Not that I can usually advocate the Between Friends strip, but this one has a Henry David Thoreau line, immediately elevating it to noteworthy status: "If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.
That quote deserves better than an odds and ends mention. Ah well.
"ARE WE SELLING OUR SOUL?"
New book by Michael Sandel "What Money Can't Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets"
I have two passages from the article to copy:
'"At a time of rising inequality, the marketization of everything means that people of affluence and people of modest means lead increasingly separate lives," Sandel writes. "We live and work and shop and play in different places. Our children go to different schools... It's not good for democracy, nor is it a satisfying way to live."
'He does not oppose inequality everywhere, but believes that too much of it is dangerous. "Democracy does not require perfect equality," he writes, "but it does require that citizens share in a common life.
"What matters is that people of different backgrounds and social positions encounter one another, and bump up against one another, in the course of everyday life. For this is how we learn to negotiate and abide our differences, and how we care for the common good."'
And now here's an opposing passage from the end of the article:
'"The thesis that Sandel is presenting is one that is not obviously correct," says Joseph Heath, a University of Toronto philosophy professor, author of The Efficient Society and co-author of The Rebel Sell.
"The idea that you can get a whole theory of welfare state out of this idea that it's just morally unacceptable for markets to do certain kinds of things- I just think the argument's totally wrong."
I include the opposing passage because I've read Rebel Sell and basically disagree with its ENTIRE premise, so by having this guy be the voice opposing Sandel, well that pushes me in the direction of thinking Sandel is automatically right. (to reiterate my problem with Rebel Sell, the authors basically assert that culture and counter culture are basically the same thing, and that there is therefore no ACTUAL counter culture, which I think completely ignores the groups of people that don't form groups of people at all.)
"SWITZERLAND EMBRACES 'CONSENSUS DEMOCRACY'"
Wherein I learn that Switzerland has bunches of referendums each year. I'm a big fan of referendums, I'd rather them than to leave all the big stuff to dumb politicians (yeah yeah, dumb politicians that were voted in by the people..).
I've written myself a note here saying: Referendum- Powerfful tool for civic engagement RE: Meech Lake Accord 1990
I guess they had a referendum over the Meech Lake Accord and, despite what the politician expected, it got through.. or didn't go threw. I forget which way the politicians expected things to turn out, but it went contrary to that.
"GREEN GYMS PUMP ENERGY BACK TO GRID"
Article about a gym that uses its equipment to generate electricity instead of running on it. Pretty awesome idea. It's called AC4 Fitness based in Goleta, California.
A BUNCH OF ARTICLES THAT JUST HAVE AWESOME TITLES:
"Stolen Dog Stolen, Owner Believes"- in case you couldn't tell, "owner" may be stretching things a bit far. He stole the dog from an animal shelter because he'd have otherwise been forced to neuter the animal, which is doesn't believe in.
"Detroit's Summer of Fire" Arsonists are rampaging, overwhelming a shrinking number of firefighters. Are the culprits crazy - or rich?- it's a property based conspiracy! Conspiracy!
"No More Force To Reckon With"- small town of Kemp, Texas gets rid of their police department because they couldn't afford it any longer. If ever there was a setting for a modern western...
and now for my favourite one, and the thing that I'll leave this post with:
"THE MYSTERIOUS CASE OF THE FAINTING SCHOOLGIRLS"
^-isn't that awesome?!?! It's a Scooby Doo/Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew title... in real life!! Trust me, it's awesome. Any headline featuring "mysterious" or "case of the..." is instantly amazing, and this one has both!!
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
A Drink Before the War
Well, seeing as this is the first draft I've found, let's finish it up (I expected to finish the Batman one first, but it makes no real difference).
As you may be aware, I was loaned "Gone Baby Gone" to watch a few weeks back- the directorial debut of Ben Affleck yadda yadda yadda I wrote all that already. What I MAY have neglected to mention was that the story for this movie was based on the third (possibly fourth) novel in a series of detective books by Dennis Lehane (other famous movies based off of novels this guy has written include Mystic River and Shutter Island, though I have yet to see either of them, despite the presence of Leonardo Dicaprio in the latter). I decided to give the books a read, so I picked up what I believe is the first of the series: "A Drink Before the War".
The story is as well written as most any detective fiction. If Lehane is regarded as the second coming of Raymond Chandler or whomever like the critics say, well, I don't disagree- the pulpy style is oft immitated-as-well-as-duplicated. From a technical standpoint I'm usually not blown away by anything I read. My question is: how's the plot/plotting?
And it's in this arena that Lehane shines for me, never so predicatable that I'm bored, but never so out of left field that I feel cheated. For example (a spoiler-y example) when it's revealed that the documents that were stolen by Jenna Angeline, a poor cleaner that gets chased after by our protagonists, were photos of whichever government figure, well, there are only so many kinds of pictures taken that could get everyone excited about whether or not they find themselves in the public eye, but the actual content DID manage to justify everyone's excitement mostly because of the parties involved and how the information would effect more than just the governor/senator/whoever it was.
I recorded for my own reference the names of several of the characters that I thought I may need to remember for this post: Patrick Kenzie, protagonist, Angela Gennaro, partner, Maurice Socia and Roland, rival gang bangers who trade off with each other other the role of antagonist.
The book does do that stupid thing were a ton of stuff would have been solved earlier if any of a dozen people would just spill the details they knew. "Who's Maurice?" "Who's Roland?"
"Oh, naw man, you don't wanna know about them, those guys are animals. Best just stay out of their way and lay low!"
No, actually, what would've been best was if you'd just take two seconds to say they're father and son, and Jenna Angeline was the pairs wife and mother, respectively. I honestly have no idea why that suff took so long to come out in the book. If the book had been written now, instead of around 1994, then you really couldn't get away with that. A google search and there it is. But there you go, it's no wonder I'm in favour of period piece detective stories.
The 70's! Yeah, that's the time for "modern" detective stuff. With the occasional turn in the roaring 20's, the depression, and then back to the late 19th century for some good old Sherlock Holmes business.
Anyways, I wanted to share this quote from the book, found at the bottom of P. 73 when Patrick finally tracks down Jenna:
"I waited, my eyes fixed on Jenna Angeline, hers finally meeting mine. They were eyes that screamed resignation. Old, old eyes. Brown and numb and too beaten to show fear. Or joy. Or life. Something passed through them, briefly, and I knew that she recognized me. Not who I was. What I represented. I was just another form of cop or collection agent or landlord or boss. I was authority, and I was coming to decide something about her life whether she liked it or not. She recognized me all right."
I just wrote a paragraph about why I like this passage, but what I said was stupid. You can make up your own mind about the lines greatness or lack therof.
As you may be aware, I was loaned "Gone Baby Gone" to watch a few weeks back- the directorial debut of Ben Affleck yadda yadda yadda I wrote all that already. What I MAY have neglected to mention was that the story for this movie was based on the third (possibly fourth) novel in a series of detective books by Dennis Lehane (other famous movies based off of novels this guy has written include Mystic River and Shutter Island, though I have yet to see either of them, despite the presence of Leonardo Dicaprio in the latter). I decided to give the books a read, so I picked up what I believe is the first of the series: "A Drink Before the War".
The story is as well written as most any detective fiction. If Lehane is regarded as the second coming of Raymond Chandler or whomever like the critics say, well, I don't disagree- the pulpy style is oft immitated-as-well-as-duplicated. From a technical standpoint I'm usually not blown away by anything I read. My question is: how's the plot/plotting?
And it's in this arena that Lehane shines for me, never so predicatable that I'm bored, but never so out of left field that I feel cheated. For example (a spoiler-y example) when it's revealed that the documents that were stolen by Jenna Angeline, a poor cleaner that gets chased after by our protagonists, were photos of whichever government figure, well, there are only so many kinds of pictures taken that could get everyone excited about whether or not they find themselves in the public eye, but the actual content DID manage to justify everyone's excitement mostly because of the parties involved and how the information would effect more than just the governor/senator/whoever it was.
I recorded for my own reference the names of several of the characters that I thought I may need to remember for this post: Patrick Kenzie, protagonist, Angela Gennaro, partner, Maurice Socia and Roland, rival gang bangers who trade off with each other other the role of antagonist.
The book does do that stupid thing were a ton of stuff would have been solved earlier if any of a dozen people would just spill the details they knew. "Who's Maurice?" "Who's Roland?"
"Oh, naw man, you don't wanna know about them, those guys are animals. Best just stay out of their way and lay low!"
No, actually, what would've been best was if you'd just take two seconds to say they're father and son, and Jenna Angeline was the pairs wife and mother, respectively. I honestly have no idea why that suff took so long to come out in the book. If the book had been written now, instead of around 1994, then you really couldn't get away with that. A google search and there it is. But there you go, it's no wonder I'm in favour of period piece detective stories.
The 70's! Yeah, that's the time for "modern" detective stuff. With the occasional turn in the roaring 20's, the depression, and then back to the late 19th century for some good old Sherlock Holmes business.
Anyways, I wanted to share this quote from the book, found at the bottom of P. 73 when Patrick finally tracks down Jenna:
"I waited, my eyes fixed on Jenna Angeline, hers finally meeting mine. They were eyes that screamed resignation. Old, old eyes. Brown and numb and too beaten to show fear. Or joy. Or life. Something passed through them, briefly, and I knew that she recognized me. Not who I was. What I represented. I was just another form of cop or collection agent or landlord or boss. I was authority, and I was coming to decide something about her life whether she liked it or not. She recognized me all right."
I just wrote a paragraph about why I like this passage, but what I said was stupid. You can make up your own mind about the lines greatness or lack therof.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Technically a midsummer mornings dream
Bare minutes after waking up and I've already lost the narrative of a most excellent night of sleep.
I found a celebrated Game Boy Colour cartridge that most assuredly never existed (unless YOU can think of a game that was mostly text based story and cut scene, was called 'Mew's Adventure', was scripted by the creators of Tiny Toon Adventures, and had an extended sequence of cartoon talking cows playing some version of 'ring around the rosie' where every few lines they cutely gave the cow to their right a playful kiss on the cheek, and at the back of the line there was a disproportionately large carton frog that joined in because it all looked like such fun.)
I was also told to stop reading this one ovesized pamphlet, to go to bed and to simply ask my teachers about what it means the next day, this despite the fact that I was successfully able to 'magic eye' the thing into revealing it's phrases, all written in three inch tall letters over the course of three or four pages, revealing some truth about the universe, or else some highly sexualized text. Either or. Could be both.
But I had to stop reading because I'd been arbitrarily scheduled for a dentists appointment the next day, in that way that you get scheduled for things by your parents, no foreknowledge on your part. I had to get up at 4am so that I could go to the dentist in time for a complimentary movie pass, which would expire later that day, so I'd need to go to the movies RIGHT AWAY even though I had loads of school to get to.
I met up with a single slow moving zombie, and I was given a sharp rod with which to deal with it. As far as zombie scenarios go, you know, if I HAVE to dream about a zombie ordeal, this was the best way to go about it.
I had a helpful teacher that wanted to move me from a music class that happened Tuesdays and Thursdays to just Tuesdays, which I thought was legitimately great for me... but everything I said sounded sarcastic to her, so she just got more and more upset with me. As with everything, this mirrors many a real life scenario/fear.
I got to lead a merry band of lost little children around a building. I was their size as well, so maybe I was their age. One of the kids, the biggest and oldest, was able to read at an eighth grade level, and since he couldn't have been in anything higher than the fourth grade I was really impressed.
Basically, I was up to a bunch of stuff last night. I'm feeling pretty well rested for a change.
I'll being cramming the last few posts for the month tonight, and they'll be posted tomorrow. I need six, and at the moment I have three that I've started. I'll come up with some variety of garbage to post.
I found a celebrated Game Boy Colour cartridge that most assuredly never existed (unless YOU can think of a game that was mostly text based story and cut scene, was called 'Mew's Adventure', was scripted by the creators of Tiny Toon Adventures, and had an extended sequence of cartoon talking cows playing some version of 'ring around the rosie' where every few lines they cutely gave the cow to their right a playful kiss on the cheek, and at the back of the line there was a disproportionately large carton frog that joined in because it all looked like such fun.)
I was also told to stop reading this one ovesized pamphlet, to go to bed and to simply ask my teachers about what it means the next day, this despite the fact that I was successfully able to 'magic eye' the thing into revealing it's phrases, all written in three inch tall letters over the course of three or four pages, revealing some truth about the universe, or else some highly sexualized text. Either or. Could be both.
But I had to stop reading because I'd been arbitrarily scheduled for a dentists appointment the next day, in that way that you get scheduled for things by your parents, no foreknowledge on your part. I had to get up at 4am so that I could go to the dentist in time for a complimentary movie pass, which would expire later that day, so I'd need to go to the movies RIGHT AWAY even though I had loads of school to get to.
I met up with a single slow moving zombie, and I was given a sharp rod with which to deal with it. As far as zombie scenarios go, you know, if I HAVE to dream about a zombie ordeal, this was the best way to go about it.
I had a helpful teacher that wanted to move me from a music class that happened Tuesdays and Thursdays to just Tuesdays, which I thought was legitimately great for me... but everything I said sounded sarcastic to her, so she just got more and more upset with me. As with everything, this mirrors many a real life scenario/fear.
I got to lead a merry band of lost little children around a building. I was their size as well, so maybe I was their age. One of the kids, the biggest and oldest, was able to read at an eighth grade level, and since he couldn't have been in anything higher than the fourth grade I was really impressed.
Basically, I was up to a bunch of stuff last night. I'm feeling pretty well rested for a change.
I'll being cramming the last few posts for the month tonight, and they'll be posted tomorrow. I need six, and at the moment I have three that I've started. I'll come up with some variety of garbage to post.
Friday, July 27, 2012
It never rains..
In case it hasn't been painfully clear yet, I've been having some trouble getting down to doing some posting on the site here. It's chiefly been a "I'm too exhausted to get to it" type of trouble- I know the Wednesday before work I woke up at something like 8am when I was hoping for noon, so I was already going to be plenty out of it for the day.
And then all the trouble happened with an unconscious woman, calling 911, and spending the remainder of the evening struggling to stay awake with a box of chocolates, all the while ALSO struggling through the remaining ten-eleven hours of me being enveloped in that curious mix of smell that is urine crossed with feces (neither of which were mine, in case there was any confusion).
It was a fun night.
(wait for it, wait for it..)
NOT.
(I love that "Not!" business- totally radical 90's)
I had planned to write to my friend(s) out in Saskatoon (pen and paper and everything ready) but decided I had a very limited ability for the night to... touch... things... without going out of my mind.
Self described germaphobe over here, remember? I made a lot of trips to the washroom to wash my hands that night.
(There's already been a bunch of trouble with this post as far as poor sentences from a 'breadth of word pool' perspective. "Washroom to wash" and there was a mix and mix thing above before I changed it, also I used struggling twice near the top, but by adding the emphasis of the all caps "ALSO" made it look like a conscious descision, instead of the after the fact ammendment that it was. Tip for writers who want to convince me that they're any good: don't evoke a thoughtlessness when you use and re-use words. It looks both careless and like you have a limited... vocabulary. Would you believe I just forgot the word "vocabulary"? I had to sit here with my fingers hovering over the keys in spidery anticipation of my brain remembering the word.)
I also got a series of texts while this business at work was going down about my grandmother being back in the hospital.
The rain was pouring hard outside, because that's what it always does.
And then all the trouble happened with an unconscious woman, calling 911, and spending the remainder of the evening struggling to stay awake with a box of chocolates, all the while ALSO struggling through the remaining ten-eleven hours of me being enveloped in that curious mix of smell that is urine crossed with feces (neither of which were mine, in case there was any confusion).
It was a fun night.
(wait for it, wait for it..)
NOT.
(I love that "Not!" business- totally radical 90's)
I had planned to write to my friend(s) out in Saskatoon (pen and paper and everything ready) but decided I had a very limited ability for the night to... touch... things... without going out of my mind.
Self described germaphobe over here, remember? I made a lot of trips to the washroom to wash my hands that night.
(There's already been a bunch of trouble with this post as far as poor sentences from a 'breadth of word pool' perspective. "Washroom to wash" and there was a mix and mix thing above before I changed it, also I used struggling twice near the top, but by adding the emphasis of the all caps "ALSO" made it look like a conscious descision, instead of the after the fact ammendment that it was. Tip for writers who want to convince me that they're any good: don't evoke a thoughtlessness when you use and re-use words. It looks both careless and like you have a limited... vocabulary. Would you believe I just forgot the word "vocabulary"? I had to sit here with my fingers hovering over the keys in spidery anticipation of my brain remembering the word.)
I also got a series of texts while this business at work was going down about my grandmother being back in the hospital.
The rain was pouring hard outside, because that's what it always does.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Newspaper fumblings Part 1 (cause I got tired)
I've already got two document pages opened to potential posts, one on the Dark Knight Rises, the other on the novel "A Drink Before the War". But I need to at least get this out of the way- I have a bunch of crumpled up newspaper stuff in my bag that I wanted to mention at least in passing (though I'll surely need to glance at them to remember why), and before I get to THAT there's a bunch of stuff just from todays paper. So let's whittle this stuff down and reduce the likely hood of me collecting obscure scraps of paper like some kind of crazy philatelist (sp?).
***
A quick shout out goes to "Adam @ Home" in todays Toronto Star for something that I'm often praising it for in my head. The humour is mostly derived from the cheesy gags that any of the characters could spout. Despite the abundance of wit (and therefore the possible complaint that all the characters sound alike), it's all very understated and sweet. The main cast family are all people I would want to hang out with. No one is a charicature(sp?) of stupidty, arrogance, hyper-activity, or any trait jacked up to 11 for the sake of making things funny. For the sake of being laugh out loud funny it isn't the way to go, but everyone is so endearing I wouldn't want a thing changed. The strip could also potentially be criticized for these kids making Star Wars references that this newer generation probably wouldn't make, but I don't know how long the kids have been in the strip, maybe they've been 10 years old for the past 20 years like Bart Simpson! But who cares, those Star Wars references are another reason why I'd love to baby sit these fictional kids.
***
This scrap from the celebrity obsessed entertainment section informed me that the too-cool-for-school Joseph Gordon-Levitt said "pretty girls aren't usually funny", with the suggestion that he'll soon regret those words because of the inevitable offended rebuttals (since those are always so hilarious). I'd love a three panel comic strip of:
Panel 1: Clear view of cartoon Gordon-Levitt's face, word balloon situated to the right of his head matter-of-factly states "Pretty girls aren't usually funny."
Panel 2: Gordon-Levitt looks to the side, embarrassed, realizing he may have said something that will be taken poorly, says "Um, I mean, uh..."
Panel 3: Reprise of Panel 1, but with the addition of a quick word balloon on the upper left of the panel saying "...whatever."
I just like picturing the cartoon Gordon-Levitt I'd draw, little black dots for eyes, pointed little ears, all on an over-sized head, with furrowed brows, the first and third panel displaying the height of a straight-serious face. Mock serious? Is this a situation that calls for the descriptor "mock serious"? My ignorance has once again embarrassed me.
***
Okay, maybe this doesn't tie in together, but there's this great line that hit me from this Les Miserables book today. P. 67 has Inspecter Javert exclaim "Good God, it is easy to be kind, the difficulty is to be just."
This coming from what is an enemy to our protagonist, the disguised Jean Valjean, someone who held against Valjean the innumerable kindnesses he bestowed upon the village he'd taken to living in, whose unprejudiced generosity has been objectively the key factor in the villages new wealthy status, Javert's words should be wrong, right? (There is definitely a better way to phrase that sentence)
How much am I "loved" for the times when I let the rules slide for this or that person, compared to my intractable counterpart who asserts the rules even when they don't make sense? Scratch that- ESPECIALLY when they don't make sense. I'm not being kind to him in that case, he has to suffer through the unfavourable comparisons. Granted, I try to look at why a rule exists, to keep to the spirit of that rule if it makes any kind of sense at all. My counterpart refuses to engage in a case-by-case analysis. Fairness/justice on his part, or laziness?
You have to choose your battles though. What will it get anybody to argue over an extra ten minutes of parking time? A lot of energy has been wasted in such arguments when he could have been hakuna matata-ing.
In the end, I think he's the better employee on paper, but in any reality you'd want me instead. Though that could be a separate issue having to do with my ability to understand to do new things and whatnot.
Uh, anyways, ideally kindness and justice should be the same thing. I guess in the working world it's a question of "who's justice?"
***
I really like this letter to the Star, the caption above it says "It's up to the people to solve this" let me try and get a decently succint excerpt to share (cross your fingers I don't just retype the whole thing):
"My brother and I were raised by a single mom in Scarborough. At no time have either of us sold drugs, been in jail, or carried a gun... My mother worked full-time and spent her free time with us... She wore the same crappy coat for years, not buying herself new clothes so she could afford our (sporting and other) activities. She kept us out of trouble... She parented us. The media are so quick to blame lack of 'free' community programs or 'absentee' fathers. What is really lacking is selfless, quality parenting. (Our mother) relied on herself and taught us to rely on ourselves and take responsiblity for our own actions. People have to step up. Support your children, be involved in their lives, know their friends, and sacrifice some designer clothes or the latest gadget to make things happen for them. Parent them! It's not up to the politicians to solve this problem; it's up to the people themselves." Tamara Caldwell, Whitby
Well, I cut it down some for you. This hit me because here I am, thinking about all the various social programs that should be instituted, the jobs and subsequent hopes for the future that just don't seem to be around anymore, basically I'm thinking "what should our politicians (calling them "leaders" would be a bit of a stretch, unfortunately) be doing to solve our problems?"
Make no mistake, I want there to be more, better funded social programs, but as a means to a more fair-minded, egalitarian society. (I better be using egalitarian correctly just now!!) IF we had parents teaching those values of personal responsibility then things would take care of themselves... but who parents the parents? Where do they get THEIR values? How far back must we travel to find that point where, okay, right, this is something that needs to be taught. "The parents need to do their job!" "Well, who taught them their job?" "Their parents?" "And who taught THEM?" "Their parents.." and on and on.
I think it's pretty obvious that self involved parents aren't going to change by themselves, and as a result their legacy of selfishness gets passed on.
I flipped from where I originally was on this, about how the government SHOULD just get out of the way on this (and most everything), and that we'll simply anarchicly intuit the best way forward. It bothers me how close in my head modern conservatism matches up with my ideal of anarchy. But then my brain matches up modern conservatism with a liberal (see what I did there?) dash of objectivism and I'm less worried.
I may have run through the totality (clearly a limited one) of my knowledge of political theory. More or less. It really is a good letter though!
I'm thus far failing at getting through all these bits of paper- I've now got the NEW newspaper in front of me, and there's another great letter this time from Deanna Churcher of Milton who says that, though her parents weren't around much and therefore weren't a positive influence on her, the fact that people, her teachers, cared at all, helping her match up with scholarships, loans, and new work, made all the difference- a difference found in various community and school social programs.
Really, there probably just aren't enough people making good faith actions towards helping others to a better life simply for the sake of giving someone a better life.
Okay, I'm out of it for the night. I made no dent in my pile of papers already in my bag... and have now added one more paper. Uuugh.
***
A quick shout out goes to "Adam @ Home" in todays Toronto Star for something that I'm often praising it for in my head. The humour is mostly derived from the cheesy gags that any of the characters could spout. Despite the abundance of wit (and therefore the possible complaint that all the characters sound alike), it's all very understated and sweet. The main cast family are all people I would want to hang out with. No one is a charicature(sp?) of stupidty, arrogance, hyper-activity, or any trait jacked up to 11 for the sake of making things funny. For the sake of being laugh out loud funny it isn't the way to go, but everyone is so endearing I wouldn't want a thing changed. The strip could also potentially be criticized for these kids making Star Wars references that this newer generation probably wouldn't make, but I don't know how long the kids have been in the strip, maybe they've been 10 years old for the past 20 years like Bart Simpson! But who cares, those Star Wars references are another reason why I'd love to baby sit these fictional kids.
***
This scrap from the celebrity obsessed entertainment section informed me that the too-cool-for-school Joseph Gordon-Levitt said "pretty girls aren't usually funny", with the suggestion that he'll soon regret those words because of the inevitable offended rebuttals (since those are always so hilarious). I'd love a three panel comic strip of:
Panel 1: Clear view of cartoon Gordon-Levitt's face, word balloon situated to the right of his head matter-of-factly states "Pretty girls aren't usually funny."
Panel 2: Gordon-Levitt looks to the side, embarrassed, realizing he may have said something that will be taken poorly, says "Um, I mean, uh..."
Panel 3: Reprise of Panel 1, but with the addition of a quick word balloon on the upper left of the panel saying "...whatever."
I just like picturing the cartoon Gordon-Levitt I'd draw, little black dots for eyes, pointed little ears, all on an over-sized head, with furrowed brows, the first and third panel displaying the height of a straight-serious face. Mock serious? Is this a situation that calls for the descriptor "mock serious"? My ignorance has once again embarrassed me.
***
Okay, maybe this doesn't tie in together, but there's this great line that hit me from this Les Miserables book today. P. 67 has Inspecter Javert exclaim "Good God, it is easy to be kind, the difficulty is to be just."
This coming from what is an enemy to our protagonist, the disguised Jean Valjean, someone who held against Valjean the innumerable kindnesses he bestowed upon the village he'd taken to living in, whose unprejudiced generosity has been objectively the key factor in the villages new wealthy status, Javert's words should be wrong, right? (There is definitely a better way to phrase that sentence)
How much am I "loved" for the times when I let the rules slide for this or that person, compared to my intractable counterpart who asserts the rules even when they don't make sense? Scratch that- ESPECIALLY when they don't make sense. I'm not being kind to him in that case, he has to suffer through the unfavourable comparisons. Granted, I try to look at why a rule exists, to keep to the spirit of that rule if it makes any kind of sense at all. My counterpart refuses to engage in a case-by-case analysis. Fairness/justice on his part, or laziness?
You have to choose your battles though. What will it get anybody to argue over an extra ten minutes of parking time? A lot of energy has been wasted in such arguments when he could have been hakuna matata-ing.
In the end, I think he's the better employee on paper, but in any reality you'd want me instead. Though that could be a separate issue having to do with my ability to understand to do new things and whatnot.
Uh, anyways, ideally kindness and justice should be the same thing. I guess in the working world it's a question of "who's justice?"
***
I really like this letter to the Star, the caption above it says "It's up to the people to solve this" let me try and get a decently succint excerpt to share (cross your fingers I don't just retype the whole thing):
"My brother and I were raised by a single mom in Scarborough. At no time have either of us sold drugs, been in jail, or carried a gun... My mother worked full-time and spent her free time with us... She wore the same crappy coat for years, not buying herself new clothes so she could afford our (sporting and other) activities. She kept us out of trouble... She parented us. The media are so quick to blame lack of 'free' community programs or 'absentee' fathers. What is really lacking is selfless, quality parenting. (Our mother) relied on herself and taught us to rely on ourselves and take responsiblity for our own actions. People have to step up. Support your children, be involved in their lives, know their friends, and sacrifice some designer clothes or the latest gadget to make things happen for them. Parent them! It's not up to the politicians to solve this problem; it's up to the people themselves." Tamara Caldwell, Whitby
Well, I cut it down some for you. This hit me because here I am, thinking about all the various social programs that should be instituted, the jobs and subsequent hopes for the future that just don't seem to be around anymore, basically I'm thinking "what should our politicians (calling them "leaders" would be a bit of a stretch, unfortunately) be doing to solve our problems?"
Make no mistake, I want there to be more, better funded social programs, but as a means to a more fair-minded, egalitarian society. (I better be using egalitarian correctly just now!!) IF we had parents teaching those values of personal responsibility then things would take care of themselves... but who parents the parents? Where do they get THEIR values? How far back must we travel to find that point where, okay, right, this is something that needs to be taught. "The parents need to do their job!" "Well, who taught them their job?" "Their parents?" "And who taught THEM?" "Their parents.." and on and on.
I think it's pretty obvious that self involved parents aren't going to change by themselves, and as a result their legacy of selfishness gets passed on.
I flipped from where I originally was on this, about how the government SHOULD just get out of the way on this (and most everything), and that we'll simply anarchicly intuit the best way forward. It bothers me how close in my head modern conservatism matches up with my ideal of anarchy. But then my brain matches up modern conservatism with a liberal (see what I did there?) dash of objectivism and I'm less worried.
I may have run through the totality (clearly a limited one) of my knowledge of political theory. More or less. It really is a good letter though!
I'm thus far failing at getting through all these bits of paper- I've now got the NEW newspaper in front of me, and there's another great letter this time from Deanna Churcher of Milton who says that, though her parents weren't around much and therefore weren't a positive influence on her, the fact that people, her teachers, cared at all, helping her match up with scholarships, loans, and new work, made all the difference- a difference found in various community and school social programs.
Really, there probably just aren't enough people making good faith actions towards helping others to a better life simply for the sake of giving someone a better life.
Okay, I'm out of it for the night. I made no dent in my pile of papers already in my bag... and have now added one more paper. Uuugh.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
I will read this book, whatever that means.
I've got Les Miserables in my bag beside me for this bus ride home. It's a classic so I was sure to get to it eventually, but this copy I picked up, while certainly beautifully water-damaged and browned with age, it turns out to be some kind of abridged version that gets straight to the good stuff. Should I read from this version? Am I severely missing out on the experience of Les Mis?
I'm already quite aware that I'm not reading it in the french. Well surprise! I don't speak french. I'd get maybe every fifth word or so. That would surely make the book a chore to read. Bah, I'll probably stick with this version and wrestle with my conscience afterwards about whether or not I can sit back and say "I have read this book."
I had a bunch of blog type work I wanted to get to this evening, but instead I played Star Fox 64 with a guy that sure refused to go easy on me. Very frustrating. Especially since I have the latest Batman movie to briefly talk about (I'm taking spoilers for this movie very seriously).
The bus ride has been quick, I'm almost home. I've really got to start looking for a new job, get my schedule in order.
By the way, I missed my bus to work today, and so ended up going on a short run with my dad. We don't generally spend time together, so that was different, especially considering it's an activity I usually so associate with isolation. Most of the time, anyways.
If I have enough time and will I'll post something else before I go to work today.
I'm already quite aware that I'm not reading it in the french. Well surprise! I don't speak french. I'd get maybe every fifth word or so. That would surely make the book a chore to read. Bah, I'll probably stick with this version and wrestle with my conscience afterwards about whether or not I can sit back and say "I have read this book."
I had a bunch of blog type work I wanted to get to this evening, but instead I played Star Fox 64 with a guy that sure refused to go easy on me. Very frustrating. Especially since I have the latest Batman movie to briefly talk about (I'm taking spoilers for this movie very seriously).
The bus ride has been quick, I'm almost home. I've really got to start looking for a new job, get my schedule in order.
By the way, I missed my bus to work today, and so ended up going on a short run with my dad. We don't generally spend time together, so that was different, especially considering it's an activity I usually so associate with isolation. Most of the time, anyways.
If I have enough time and will I'll post something else before I go to work today.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Really messed up dream
I just woke up and I'm going to tell you about this seriously disturbing dream I had.
It was a sort of pilot episode to a tv series, I think it was called "Unlawfully--" er, something. Or maybe "Blind Justice". I forget. It was really clear in my mind the first time I woke up, when all I could think was "what. was. THAT?!?!" but then I did go back to sleep, to try and mentally rinse my head out with something else. So it was a couple of hours back.
So the story follows this guy, he's a treasure hunter I guess, holed up in this beach front house. He leaves, but the lights are out, and he's worried he may not be able to find where he's going.. he's kind of worried that he won't even be able to make it back to the beach house, it's so dark, this despite their being no other landmarks nearby.
In the darkness on the beach, a woman approaches, running, she's scared, the guy offers to help her, to take her back to the beach house for protection. They find their way back to the house, but the guy starts getting suspicious of her motives, of the REAL reason she's out there at night, being chased by whatever. He leaps into the water (there's a hole at the far end of the beach house, like what you see people go ice fishing in, but obviously much larger to accomodate a person going in and out) to demonstrate how the woman could have, at an earlier time, been listening in to his conversation about the treasure, that she's here to somehow cheat him out of it. But he offers to legitimately cut her in, climbing up out of the hole, soaking wet.
I guess she agrees, because the next scene is the two of them joined up with another man and woman, navigating around a mountain of human body parts. A sort of flash forward happens, where we see where the "series" is headed, all four of the characters, now limbless, each wrapped in a sort of flesh coloured cacoon, alternately bobbing in the water, or rolling towards some goal, or riding in the back of a pick up truck. Somehow it's made clear that these characters have gained a sort of immortality, a month of life for every time they consume flesh (suggesting that, while they were lost, bobbing out at sea, they survived on their own arms and legs).. but that isn't what happened at all.
Back to the mountain of body parts, the four characters, still whole, come upon another group, two or three large. They are responsible for grisly scene around everyone. Someone in the main group was a traitor, working for these guys the whole time. The new groups leader attacks, but the main character shoots at his eyes. Maybe the bad guy is blinded for the moment, but he's some kind of supernatural monster, inhumanly strong, also immortal. He picks up the main guy, and blinds him.
All three of the main group are mutilated: the main guy loses his legs, the other two, well, I think something different happens, but I can only remember it as them also losing their lower half, so whatever.
There's a cut, and it's clearly several years later, and that main guy now works for some international police service. He's blind, in a wheel chair, but also vows to keep searching for the people that did this to him. He boisterously takes whatever cases the agency assigns him, hoping to get the people that did this, all the while the people that assign him cases are unnerved by him, while also thinking he can't get any of his jobs accomplished.
So yeah, that was that. Really really really messed up.
It was a sort of pilot episode to a tv series, I think it was called "Unlawfully--" er, something. Or maybe "Blind Justice". I forget. It was really clear in my mind the first time I woke up, when all I could think was "what. was. THAT?!?!" but then I did go back to sleep, to try and mentally rinse my head out with something else. So it was a couple of hours back.
So the story follows this guy, he's a treasure hunter I guess, holed up in this beach front house. He leaves, but the lights are out, and he's worried he may not be able to find where he's going.. he's kind of worried that he won't even be able to make it back to the beach house, it's so dark, this despite their being no other landmarks nearby.
In the darkness on the beach, a woman approaches, running, she's scared, the guy offers to help her, to take her back to the beach house for protection. They find their way back to the house, but the guy starts getting suspicious of her motives, of the REAL reason she's out there at night, being chased by whatever. He leaps into the water (there's a hole at the far end of the beach house, like what you see people go ice fishing in, but obviously much larger to accomodate a person going in and out) to demonstrate how the woman could have, at an earlier time, been listening in to his conversation about the treasure, that she's here to somehow cheat him out of it. But he offers to legitimately cut her in, climbing up out of the hole, soaking wet.
I guess she agrees, because the next scene is the two of them joined up with another man and woman, navigating around a mountain of human body parts. A sort of flash forward happens, where we see where the "series" is headed, all four of the characters, now limbless, each wrapped in a sort of flesh coloured cacoon, alternately bobbing in the water, or rolling towards some goal, or riding in the back of a pick up truck. Somehow it's made clear that these characters have gained a sort of immortality, a month of life for every time they consume flesh (suggesting that, while they were lost, bobbing out at sea, they survived on their own arms and legs).. but that isn't what happened at all.
Back to the mountain of body parts, the four characters, still whole, come upon another group, two or three large. They are responsible for grisly scene around everyone. Someone in the main group was a traitor, working for these guys the whole time. The new groups leader attacks, but the main character shoots at his eyes. Maybe the bad guy is blinded for the moment, but he's some kind of supernatural monster, inhumanly strong, also immortal. He picks up the main guy, and blinds him.
All three of the main group are mutilated: the main guy loses his legs, the other two, well, I think something different happens, but I can only remember it as them also losing their lower half, so whatever.
There's a cut, and it's clearly several years later, and that main guy now works for some international police service. He's blind, in a wheel chair, but also vows to keep searching for the people that did this to him. He boisterously takes whatever cases the agency assigns him, hoping to get the people that did this, all the while the people that assign him cases are unnerved by him, while also thinking he can't get any of his jobs accomplished.
So yeah, that was that. Really really really messed up.
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