Outsourced

It's true: the movie's much better than the TV show.  That's all.

Favorite new Netflix hobby

Psych.  I saw part of an episode once but thought it was just another cheap, cheeky comedy despite a friend with good taste recommending it and, if I remember right, that friend having a bit of a crush on the lead who seemed like a doofus to me from the little bit I saw, which made me question said friend's taste.  Now I see it's a somewhat cheap, cheeky comedy with some really good dialog, a fun premise, and a doofus, cheeky, crush-worthy lead character whose brain works in ways I appreciate and find entertainingly intriguing.  I like it!  It's not in my top 5 favorite shows, but I'm enjoying it muchly so far.

Brideshead illustrates my fear

I finally finished watching the BBC version of Brideshead Revisited, all 11 episodes. I still also like the more recent version with Matthew Goode, Emma Thompson, and others, but this one brought out so much more complexity and nuance in the story. Something that stood out to me is the power of religious faith in people's lives and the unlikelihood that most people will ever fully let go of it or escape the voices of their past, telling them of sin and grace.

SPOILER ALERT: Most poignant, to me, was the crisis of the relationship between Charles and Julia, Charles being an atheist-leaning agnostic, and rather staunch and even arrogant about it, and Julia being a free-spirited and wayward Catholic woman who nonetheless retains a notion that she is, in the end, a sinner and will have to repent or pay at some point. This difference seems a side note in their relationship, a point of some mild friction but nothing to end the relationship over. In fact, they each turn away from other relationships and lives to come together, against the criticism and dismay of her family, who insist it is a relationship begotten in sin and incapable of being blessed by God, since they can't be married by a priest.

There's a reflective and poignant conversation between Charles and Julia's brother and sister, Bridey and Cordelia, in which Charles challenges their notion that their dying father must receive last rites from a priest in order to be saved from his life of faithless abandon. They insist he must show an act of will and contrition before he dies, and he illustrates that if their father has the will, the priest is secondary and not the crux, and they end in a bit of a stalemate. But in the end, the "just in case" wins out over doubts of faith, and their father participates in the rites before passing away, which challenges Charles' confident assertion that it's all hogwash, and he, too, joins in a prayer of mercy from God, in case God exists, and in case mercy is needed. He realizes he, too, has doubts about whether it's all truly "bosh" as he has claimed so often.

With his deep realization of what this family's religion means to them, of how pervasive it is in their being, and of the probability that he's been too dismissive, this experience hammers home the suspicion he's been fighting all along: that he is asking Julia to choose between him and something that is equally or more interwoven into her. They have the following conversation--their last--on the steps of Brideshead, the family home where it all began and ended:


---------------------------------------------------------
Julia: ...We have on the stairs a minute to say goodbye

Charles: So long to say so little.

Julia: You knew?

Charles: Since this morning. Since before this morning, all this year.

Julia: I didn't know 'til today. ...Oh my dear, if you could only understand, then I could bear to part, or bear it better. I'd say my heart were breaking if I believed in broken hearts. I can't marry you, Charles. I can't be with you ever again.

Charles: I know.

Julia: How can you know?

Charles: ...What'll you do?

Julia: Just go on. Alone. How can I tell what I shall do? You know the whole of me. You know I'm not one for a life of mourning. I've always been bad. Probably I shall be bad again. Punished again. But the worse I am, the more I need God. I can't shut myself out from his mercy. That is what it would mean, starting a life with you: without Him. ...One can only see one step ahead, but I saw today there's one thing unforgivable--like things in the schoolroom so bad they're unpunishable, that only Mummy could deal with--the bad thing I was on the point of doing that I'm not quite bad enough to do: to set up a rival good to God's. It may be because of Mummy, Nanny, Sebastian, Cordelia, ...perhaps Bridey and Mrs. Muspratt, keeping my name in their prayers. Or it may be a private bargain between me and God that if I give up this one thing I want so much, however bad I am, he won't quite despair of me in the end. ...Now we shall both be alone. And I shall have no way of making you understand.

Charles: I don't want to make it easy for you. I hope your heart may break. But I do understand.
---------------------------------------------------------

I fear having that same conversation. It seems an all-too-likely scene in which to find myself years from now, and it's hard to imagine taking a risk that I may be sitting on the steps, knowing that I understand so very well that I can't say anything in rebuttal because even if I have worked it out and reconciled for myself, I know that no amount of explanation, or prodding, or pleading from anyone could have brought me here before I was ready. And I can't promise with 100% confidence that I will never make the same turn back and be the one saying, "I'm not quite bad enough to...set up a rival good to God's," nor can anyone else honestly. So the only option in such a case would be to let go, to love someone enough to not demand they choose damnation, even only in their own mind, for me. I wouldn't cling to someone at their detriment, but I'm afraid of being someone's sacrifice to prove their will to a God whom they believe demands such of them. I don't want to be laid on the altar and left as a holy offering by those I've grown to love and into whom I've invested everything. In those moments, the idea that we have eternity to develop relationships and this life to prove our will can become a comforting balm, even with its often accompanying rejections and reprimands, so it's not hard to understand why someone would choose as Julia did.

There are no guarantees, though. So I guess it's one step at a time, knowing the risks, learning from experience to refine and strengthen me, trusting in what I believe and/or hope is possible, doing the best I can with what I do know, and trying not to let my fear keep me "safely" locked up.

Adam

Thumbs enthusiastically up on Adam. Caught a matinee yesterday.



The lead is completely endearing, illustrating life with Asperger's syndrome in a comprehensible way. I even thought, several times, "I do that, just to a milder degree." I thought, "His response to this situation is completely rational. It's just 'too' rational. Is it odd that I identify?" I used to struggle seriously with idiomatic expressions. I wondered why people didn't just say what they meant. These and other sympathies made me wonder if I have the same traits that, in more extreme forms, make up Asperger's, or if the only difference between him and me is that I am somehow able to learn and adapt in ways he isn't. :-)

I enjoyed, perhaps (again) because of personal experience, the portrayal of such conflicts as how to enter into and remain in a relationship in which you know your partner will likely be unable to show you affection in the way you want it or are used to receiving it (for example, she questions whether he'll ever say "I love you" and, if he does, whether he'll understand what that even means to most people or whether he actually feels it). Despite being mostly fairly predictable and the ending being sweet but leaving me...mildly confused and trying to figure out what I might have missed, I really enjoyed the movie.


My favorite lines from it stood out probably because of my own frustrations with people's perspectives on relationships. I don't remember the exact wording, and a quick search didn't turn up the quotes online, so I'll go from memory:

"It's wonderful to feel loved. But to love, that is the necessity."

I slapped my friend on the leg and whispered, "Yes! Thank-you! Somebody's daring to say it."

This one I'll deliberately paraphrase to de-spoil it a touch, but be warned it may still be a bit of a spoiler:

"If you want me because you can't function without me, then I can't be with you."

Good flick.

Finally Saw 500 Days of Summer

I finally saw 500 Days of Summer last Saturday, and it was immediately one of my new favorite movies:



It's hard to describe my reaction to this movie, actually. It was just so completely refreshing to see a story that was utterly believable and real to me while being so uplifted at the end. Maybe I over-identified with the lead character because of some personal experience, but I left the theater feeling like I'd just been through what he went through but with a bright, hopeful, motivated outlook on life in general, looking forward to what lies ahead. I just couldn't help but feel a deep, peaceful sense of well-being, which made me smile quizzically to myself as I walked away that I was feeling so darn good over a stupid movie! But I decided it was probably because the movie didn't resort to fairy tales or outlandish scenarios, nor did it have to wrap up a "happily ever after" ending, to accomplish its hopeful message. It was real, aside from being fiction. I could trust it, in a way.

Bear in mind, my crush on Zooey may bias me. For the first half hour of the movie, I found myself practically wiggling in my seat and grinning ear-to-ear every time she came on screen. I absolutely relish her quirky, awkward, sort of ambiguous persona. As the movie progressed, and I realized she would probably be trouble for me because I'd potentially get all wrapped up in that and fall while she's mostly having fun and not falling. I've done something like that a couple of times. I saw myself in the lead, and it was beautifully uncomfortable watching him go through everything. While I like to think I handled things a little differently than he did, I felt for him. When he asks, "What are we?" and she replies, "Are you happy? Then what does it matter?" I said, "Oh, no you di-int!" But that's maybe another post for another time, to explain how much I disagree with that attitude/perspective.

But whatever the reasons I left feeling so good about life, I think it's a well-made movie and, although some parts might make conservative audiences squirm, and others might not delve into tougher questions as much (like what if her perspective hadn't changed?) is an overall eye-opening and uplifting take on relationships and human nature. Good stuff, I say.

Portland Wedding and Weekend

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A few weeks ago, I headed out all by my lonesome late one Thursday morning on a week-and-a-half-long road trip. First stop: Portland, for a friend's wedding. I drove from Provo to Portland in a day, stopping for a while in Boise to stretch and rest my eyes and to get gas, and two other times to get gas in Tremonton, UT and in Pendleton, OR. I finally rolled into Vancouver, WA (where I stayed with an old roommate of mine, Jon, from the Moscow days) close to midnight, after a bit over 14 hours of driving. Talk radio (especially Dr. Laura) and books on CD (like So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish) really help the hours pass much more quickly.

Tangent: When approaching Portland, I thought, "I've had enough of conservative political talk radio. I'm in Portland. Let's hear some 'Progressive Talk'." So I did. All weekend. I discovered that progressive talk radio is basically the same as conservative talk radio but from the opposite side. Just as much bias, just as much (actually, I think more) conspiracy theory (you should've heard progressive talk in Seattle during the Bush administration...I was floored by how many accusations they threw around like candy), just as much flimsy reporting. But I appreciate the balance, so I listened exclusively to progressive talk all week.

Friday morning, I was off to downtown Portland (about a half hour with traffic, which, by the way, is hideous) to meet Kim for lunch. Neither of us knows the restaurants in the area very well, so I went a bit early to scope things out. I parked in an inexpensive ($1.75/hour) parking garage downtown and walked to Pioneer Square, where there's a walkway across a water feature into an information center. Nice setup. With restrooms and various info booths, they have all you need to find your way. I asked a nice lady with a European accent where the good but inexpensive eats were, and after she pointed out a few places on the map, I called Kim, and we decided Al Amir was the way to go. It was great Lebanese food, and I definitely recommend it. I do have to say I still prefer Mazza in Salt Lake, but it was really good.

After lunch, we parted ways, and I took a few photos downtown:

We passed this on the way to Al Amir, and I couldn't pass up getting a quick shot of it. Gotta love quirky Northwesterners.


Just a random shot of a Portland street.


At a corner of Pioneer Square, there's a chess set built into a stump of a column that was made to look like it was hacked into pieces which are strewn across the pavement, revealing the checkerboard pattern inside like you reveal the rings of a tree. Pretty fun. There was a small crowd of men gathered together to watch an intense match between an older gentleman and a younger guy.




Across the street, I had a good chat with the HRC dude about where campaigning for "civil rights" becomes special recognition and unintentional inequality or has unintended consequences beyond basic protection and how that has kept me from fully supporting the HRC because I see them as a bit overbearing in some of their campaigns. He listened to and addressed my concerns or reservations patiently. We agreed that nobody should be denied housing, employment, or other basic rights based on their sexual orientation or other already-protected statuses such as gender, ethnicity, and religion, and it was good to communicate that common ground with each other.


By this time, Jon was getting out of work, so I headed back to Vancouver to meet up and go to the gym by his house. That was definitely the nicest YMCA I've seen, not that I've seen many, but it was a great little gym. Anyway, we ate some food and watched 17 Again, which wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be, despite my still finding Matthew Perry mildly annoying and completely uninteresting in everything he does. Fortunately, his character spends most of the movie as his younger version a la Zac Efron, who is far less boring.

After the movie, Jonny introduced me to the show Better Off Ted, which I decided I really enjoyed, so we stayed up past his married-guy bedtime (Sarah and the kids were out of town visiting her family, so I didn't get to see them) watching a couple of episodes online.

Saturday was the big day, the wedding of my friend who used to say she couldn't really picture herself married, and my first gig as a wedding photographer. I made sure I had my batteries charged, my memory cards cleared, and all of equipment loaded in the car. I even had an index card with reminders of what kinds of shots to get and what order in which to take family shots to make the process most efficient. Unfortunately, as I expected might happen, things didn't go exactly as planned. The diffuse lighting of often-overcast Portland was replaced by beautiful, harsh sunshine. Not all family members showed up even close to on time for photographs. I'd scoped out good photo spots just before the ceremony was to get out, but the light kept changing, so I had to rearrange my original plans. It was stressful and challenging, but their families were so patient and courteous and understanding of my being an unpaid amateur that I had fun doing it. Just two and a half hours later, we were done... *sigh*

After the luncheon, I took some pictures of the Portland temple at sunset and headed downtown to work out. After my workout, I went back to the temple to take some night shots (which didn't really turn out), then on my way back to Vancouver, I stopped in downtown Portland to check out a place an acquaintance, another Jon, had recommended: Papa Haydn on 23rd near Burnside, where I bought a slice of their Oregon blackberry cheesecake, which was mighty tasty. This was an area of Portland I don't think I'd seen before, and it left me really wanting to explore it more. Great shops, great food, and a very charming street with a slight "edge". Burnside was really active and alive with people, more energy than I was used to from Salt Lake or even most of Seattle. Next time I'm in Portland, I wanna go wander with one/some of you locals. I finished Saturday off eating my cheesecake while watching more episodes of Better of Ted with Jonny.

Sunday, I went to Jenny and Colton's ward to hear Jenny play the violin, then I went to meet up with the "other" Jon for a good chat, then back to have dinner with Jenny and Colton. Among other things, we had toasted chick peas, which turned out to be tasty! I'm not sure Jenny is convinced they were worth the trouble, but I liked them. *wink* It was fun to catch up with them and see where they've settled in and to see some of Jenny's photography, which was really good. She's a film photographer, so she gets extra points for that in many circles. :-)

Monday morning, Jonny had to get up early to fly out to a job interview on the east coast, so I just got up at the same time and drove to Seattle. Yes, I drove to Seattle at 4:30 am. Delightful. OK, it wasn't all bad. I got to watch the sun rise...from the freeway. And I beat the traffic into downtown Seattle. ...but this is more than enough for one post, so I'll leave the rest for another.

This was, surprisingly, possibly the longest single time I remember spending in the Portland area (I'm usually just passing through overnight), and it left me wanting to spend more time there the next chance I get. So be warned, Portland friends, I'll be back!

Save Dolphins...And Sharks

I love dolphins. I find them amazing and inspiring. I want to help preserve them. This has all been brought to my mind again by the recently released movie, The Cove, which I have yet to see but really want to if I can find someone to go with me. Otherwise, I'll wait for the DVD.



The Cove exposes the practice of drive hunting by filming what they weren't supposed to: a drive hunt into a cove at Taiji, Japan. This is one of many such sites of similar hunts worldwide, but none so large as this, the exposition of which has led to controversy and outcries worldwide against the practice.

I see this practice, based on what I've read, as a money-making scheme under the guise of cultural tradition or food supply needs. After all, dolphin meat has been deemed by some researchers to be unsafe for consumption by children and pregnant women and unsafe for frequent consumption by anyone due to high levels of mercury, cadmium, DDT, and PCBs in their meat and blubber. So needing them as a food source doesn't make much sense. Why capture and kill them then? They're captured for sale to aquariums or "dolphinariums" around the world. AZA-accredited institutions are required, as far as I know from working with them, to collect animals only by humane means and from reputable sources (though some marine mammal specialists believe dolphins should never be kept in captivity), but most of the places these dolphins are going to likely put them in terribly sub-par living conditions, where they're likely to die prematurely in captivity while making a buck for their caretakers. They're also killed for various reasons, including meat for Japanese school children, despite the health warnings.

Still, with clear reasons to decry the brutal and inhumane round-ups and massacres, I have the lingering question: why save the dolphins? I think enough of us have seen dolphin shows and cute dolphin movies to have a sort of cute-and-cuddly love for them. We've also read the reports of dolphins surrounding and rescuing surfers from shark attacks, making them our literal heroes of the ocean. And many of us just "feel" an inexplicable kinship or connection with dolphins. They're special, and to kill a dolphin feels somewhat like killing a unicorn: it removes some purity and virtue from the world.

Yet I can't shake such questions as the following:

• If dolphins were spiny and ugly and weren't named Flipper, would we care? If we didn't care, would the need to protect them be any less?
  
• If we watched an expose portraying the humane slaughtering process of cows, how many of us would clap our hands in delight and run out to eagerly eat a nice, juicy steak?
  
• If dolphin populations weren't controlled by such hunts, would their increased numbers lead to overconsumption of fish populations, resulting in severely negative economic and/or environmental impact?
  
• Since none of the species being hunted in Taiji, except one, is considered endangered, is there really an environmental or ecological reason to oppose the hunting, or is this feel-good activism because we just "love" dolphins more than, say, sharks (which, by the way, are severely impacted by hunting practices [particularly finning], especially in Asia, but have far fewer affectionate friends to join their cause)?
  
• If their methods were more humane, would we be satisfied and say, "OK, continue killing hundreds of dolphins humanely every year." In other words, is it the killing or the method of killing we're supposed to oppose, here? Sometimes that doesn't seem clear.
  

My conclusion so far is that dolphins should be protected from extinction or overhunting, and hunting practices should be humane, and The Cove seems to expose some significantly problematic and inhumane practices that need to change. I believe most trafficking of live dolphins is outrageous and terrible and should not be supported. Please, before you go pay to swim with dolphins, investigate the establishment to make sure the animals are either resident wild dolphins or very well cared-for and ethically caught and purchased. Many or most are none of the above.

And I guess it's not dolphins' fault if they're cute and lovable and therefore get more attention from us to "save" them, but please consider offering equal support for threatened shark populations, a phenomenon which truly does have undeniable environmental impact, especially considering how extremely slowly shark populations regrow.

Watch these videos as an intro to the truth about sharks and their rapidly dwindling numbers:






For more information on the need to support shark conservation efforts, see the following web sites:

National Aquarium in Baltimore blog - S.O.S. - Save Our Sharks

Washington Post - Shark attack survivors join fight to save sharks

Facebook Cause to Save the Sharks

Shark Research Institute

Sea Shepherd Conservation Society

Star Trek Surprise

When I saw previews for the new Star Trek movie, I thought it looked like it would either be really good or colossally bad. Well, I saw it last night with a friend, and I actually enjoyed it! Go fig. It's hard to tell how I would have reacted if I hadn't watched the series as a kid or the original movies (mostly 2-4, but up to 6), and it's not a masterpiece of film by any stretch of the imagination, but it was fun. I got a kick out of the young versions of the original characters. A couple of them were harder to accept: Spock and McCoy (Bones). The actor playing McCoy seemed to be a bit forced in mimicking the original character, and Spock just...well, it was hard to transition from Heroes' Sylar to Spock, and he just didn't seem quite right...maybe it's partially that his features aren't angular enough. But I thought Uhura was PERFECT, and most of the rest were really well cast. Kirk was just as cocky and American in all the worst ways as you'd expect. Chekov was boyish and funny. Simon Pegg as Scotty was a fun and appropriate surprise. But I'll refer to The Onion news for an entertaining assessment:

Signs - Short Film

I had to share this. It's the most adorable thing I've seen in a while:

Thanksgiving Weekend

Well, looooong after the fact, I thought I'd give a quick rundown of my Thanksgiving weekend 'cause it was good times, and this blog has become somewhat of a journal substitute:


Thursday morning:
Anne, Toffer, and I drove up to Poky. After dropping Toffer off, Anne and I went to my parent's place. A couple of days earlier, I had found a used Nintendo64 at DI and bought it to go with the $2 MarioKart 64 game I had previously purchased in the off chance I ever found a cheap N64. So it made its debut with Anne kicking my trash. But I kicked my mom's trash after that to boost my confidence again, so it all worked out.


Thursday evening:
After another great Thanksgiving meal, we all lounged, napped, and played Blokus and Rummikub. Both very fun. And um...who won both games? Who was that? Then Anne and I went to see Four Christmases at the one theater in town. It actually made me laugh a lot more than I expected, but it was still not recommendable overall. Have I mentioned I just really, REALLY dislike Vince Vaughn's general persona? Well, I do.


Thursday middle of the night:
After we got back, Maw, Anne, and I sat around chatting for a while, mostly about politics. Fortunately for Anne (who can't turn down a good political banter opportunity), my family has never been shy in conversation, and politics are not a taboo topic. We spent quite a bit of time discussing capitalism, communism, whether Obama is the beginning of the end, etc. We finally called it a night at around 1:30 am.


Friday morning:
Not one of us woke up before 10:00 am. You read correctly. 10:00 am. I think I groggily rolled out of bed at around 10:30. This was not characteristic for any of us. We figured there must have been something in the air, or we were drugged somehow.

After enjoying a quick breakfast and some chatting, Anne and I were back at the N64 racing and battling to pop each other's balloons. I think we're pretty well matched, which makes for some intense MarioKarting action, baby.

Then it was time for the traditional post-Thanksgiving decoration. This cherished tradition includes lights, evergreen garlands, cool random decorations (don't bother asking - the answer is: she bought it at TJ Maxx), one nightmare-inducing Santa figure (seriously creepy), and sending their youngest son up a precariously tall ladder to do their dusting. Hey, I know what I'm useful for, so I'm glad to be of service. Pretty cushy job, really. Do a little dusting, carry some boxes, and get amazing meals and a comfy place to stay in return. I got the good end of that deal.

We also watched National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, which is another sort of tradition and one of those movies always guaranteed to get dad busting up.


Friday afternoon/evening:
After decorating and napping and freshening up a touch, we headed out for a late lunch at Senang, a swanky little tapas bar which I definitely recommend. Who knew Pocatello had a restaurant with totally edible food? I even got a free Irish Cream steamer out of it because our server hadn't made a steamer before, so she brought one to test before bringing the final one. Such good food, too.

Then we all went to see Australia. I was reluctant because the previews left me thinking it would be really cookie-cutter and terribly written. OK, so those are kind of true, but I actually really enjoyed it nonetheless. It did have a "look at us, we're the next big cultural epic" feel that seemed like too much to cram into one story, and the thread of the boy seemed like a somewhat token attempt to hold the movie together, so I got to the end and thought, "was this really supposed to be about the boy all along, or...?" Regardless, it was beautifully shot, almost storybook-like in parts, which may be a pro or a con depending on your taste, and despite some cheese factor, I was moved in parts. And let's be honest, beautiful stars. It showed one of the most memorable kisses I've seen on screen. And I enjoyed how they toed a strange line between very traditional masculinity and femininity and blatantly reversing the typical roles: using her as the authority figure and using him as the gratuitous sex object in the otherwise blatantly cliche camp scene involving a bucket of water. I couldn't help but laugh out loud as he shook his hair out. It was like a spoof of a shampoo commercial. So despite the corny bits, I actually found myself seduced into giving a rip about the characters and cheering inwardly when they got those no good cheeky bulls in the big metal ship. And the indigenous dude skewering a bad guy was pretty cool too.


Saturday morning:
Saturday, we enjoyed a great family tradition: Swedish pancakes with lemon and sugar or strawberries and whipped cream. Yum. It's comfort food for me. Takes me back.

And after one last round of MarioKart, we were on our way back to Utah with a ton of leftovers. Sometimes, there are benefits to being the only family member to show up at holidays. *wink*

Movies That Scarred My Young Psyche

OK, train of thought: when I read the title to my last post, I Thought That I Was Strong, it made me think (I know, this is random) of the Rock Biter from The Neverending Story in that totally melancholy scene towards the end where he says, "They look like good, strong hands, don't they?" And it got me thinking about The Neverending Story (yes, I own it on DVD) and how much I loved that movie as a kid. And how tragic and intense some kids' movies were back then. Or were they really no more intense than modern kids' movies and I just remember them that way 'cause they seemed intense when I was in preschool? Hm.

So then I wasted a bunch of time watching clips on YouTube, which I of course have to share for the sheer nostalgia of it all. So I've embedded several clips from kids' movies that I figure must've warped an entire generation of children. The mature themes, the dark styles, the cheap effects, the gender ambiguity... They're the kind of movies that you only love, it seems, if you saw them as a kid. And if you didn't see them as a kid, you probably think, "No wonder my friends who watched these as kids seem a bit...off."

Let's begin with the twisted world of The Dark Crystal:



You know the part where the mystics do their "Aaawww" chant? I always think of watching this with Lynette, Miriam, and gang, and Miriam saying it's like the High Priests' group. And of course, Javier and I are convinced one of the men in the ward we've occasionally attended is a mystic. The resemblance is striking.

The next clip I'm including just for any of you who are wondering where one of my peculiar sounds comes from. Gotta love the skekses--these things freaked me out:




Next we have the saucy little jaunt, The Labyrinth:

I'll begin with one of the most endearing characters:


And of course, who could forget this catchy ditty by David Bowie in those shudder-inducing tights?


And who could forget these seriously unsettling beasts? Like Fraggles on acid:



And then possibly my favorite movie of my childhood, post-Wizard of Oz, The Neverending Story. This movie freaked me out, made me sad, and inspired me. It's funny how many little lessons I gleaned from this beautifully 80s fantasy.

First, possibly the saddest scene I remember watching as a kid. I'll get it out of the way first:


And the scene with the Gmork in which we learn of the importance of dreaming and imagining. I didn't realize, at the time, that the Gmork had such a flare for the socio-political:


And finally, the scene that started this whole waste of time on YouTube. The Rock Biter after losing his friends:


I could show others, like the Ivory Tower, or the Southern Oracle (who could forget those huge blue bosoms?), but I think I'll sign out with a video I hadn't seen before now but which is so wonderfully, terribly 80s I have to share it. Behold a music video for the song from The Neverending Story:

Lessons from Hancock

In the first 15-20 minutes of Hancock, I had a thought that struck me as important even if not particularly deep: sometimes, people judge those around them as harshly as they believe they're being judged. And maybe it doesn't matter, in a way, whether they're right about how harshly they're being judged or whether they can be convinced otherwise.

You're Not Fully Alive Unless You're Zestfully Alive

OK, in my opinion, Hairspray is just an "OK" movie. Not amazing. Not life-changing. Not worth watching every week.

But I actually enjoy the last half hour or so, from the protest through the end. There's just something about seeing people stand for their right to be considered as human and respectable as anyone else and realizing how recent an issue racism is, as well as the zestful and exuberant enjoyment of being alive portrayed by the dance, the romance, the acceptance of self and others, and the simple statement that "without love", life is lifeless.

It makes me want to be more zestful in life. I don't think the richest in life is found by joining a choreographed dance number or by being exuberant in everything you do. I think it's more than that: to learn to allow yourself to simply enjoy life and its quirks and joys even amidst trouble and pain. Sometimes, when I start feeling a little manic (deliriously upbeat) about life, I remember the trials other people are going through and the living conditions of people in certain societies, and it sobers me up a bit. Sometimes, when I'm feeling weighed down by the gravity of life, I have to pull back and just be grateful for my blessings and guiltlessly enjoy life a bit and help others do so to keep from uselessly wondering what I can do about the suffering all around.

I want to act! I can't wait for others to stand up and take action to change the world for the better while I just play the system and follow the herd. There will always be reasons (usually involving self-preservation) not to defend a cause or an underdog or invest in changing the world for the better. There are too many battles to fight: they must be chosen carefully if my efforts are to be worthwhile and not meaningless token efforts spread thin. But to stand up and make your voice heard and make your life an example in some way, that is truly living.

I want to love! I hate the feeling of stomping out or turning away from feelings of love, warmth, devotion, patience, tenderness, and general motivation to be a better person I've felt when romantically attracted. However that is to happen, it would be really nice to be able and willing to continue to feel that.

I want to dance! Figuratively. Maybe literally. I want to feel so good about life that I can't help but dance. Dancing is one of those things I've never really enjoyed doing, though I'm not sure why. There are some things in life I haven't done because there's simply no good reason to try them: for example, I don't need to try illegal drugs. But there are other things in life, like dancing, I haven't done because I haven't really wanted to, yet I feel something stir inside when I see a great dance performance. I share the enthusiasm of the people performing and want to have the ability of showing that kind of expression in my movement. And to be honest, I wonder how much of my resistance to dancing is the simple fact that I feel completely out of place and unable to express myself in dance because I haven't done it, and I wonder if I learned how to be expressive with my body in that way, if I'd actually start liking to dance? There's something that feels good and happy about seeing people celebrating with their whole body in motion, and maybe part of me really does want to learn that expression of joy.

...ah yes, leave it to me to turn a feel-good movie into an analytical essay. *grin*