#ford is losing idol points by the second

[finnbin]

Ford has gotten too used to talking to himself and not at all used to other people being around to hear it

Bonus:

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous ask: What do you think of the new Indiana Jones movie? And of Phoebe Waller-Bridge?

In a nutshell: From start to finish ‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ is watching Indiana Jones being a broken-down shell of a once great legacy character who has to be saved by the perfect younger and snarky but stereotypical ’Strong Independent Woman’ that passes for women characters in popcorn movies today.

I went in to this film with conflicted feelings. On the one hand I was genuinely excited to see this new Indiana Jones movie because it’s Indiana Jones. Period. Yet, on the other hand I feared how badly Lucasfilm, under Kathleen Kennedy’s insipid woke inspired CEO studio direction, was going to further tarnish not just a screen legend but the legacy of both George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. The cultural damage she has done to such a beloved franchise as the Star Wars universe in the name of progressive woke ideology is criminal. The troubled production history behind this film and its massive $300 million budget (by some estimates) meant Disney had a lot riding on it, especially with the future of Kathleen Kennedy on the line too as she was hands on with this film.

To me the Indiana Jones movies (well, the first three anyway, the less we say about ‘Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’ the better) were an important part of my childhood. I fell in love with the character instantly. Watching ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ (first on DVD in my boarding school dorm with other giggly girls and later on the big screen at a local arts cinema retrospective on Harrison Ford’s stellar career) just blew me away. 

As a girl I wanted to be an archaeologist and have high falutin’ adventures; I even volunteered in digs in Pakistan and India (the Indus civilisation) as well as museum work in China as a teen growing up in those countries and discovering the methodical and patient but back breaking reality of what archaeology really was. But that didn’t dampen my spirit. Just once I wanted to echo Dr. Jones, ‘This belongs in a museum!’ But I happily settled for studying Classics instead and enjoyed studying classical archaeology on the side.

I couldn’t quite make sense why Indiana Jones resonated with me more than any other action hero on the screen until much later in life. Looking like Harrison Ford certainly helps. But it’s more than that. I’ve written this elsewhere but it’s worth repeating here.

‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ is considered an inspiration for so many action films yet there’s a very odd aspect to the film that’s rather unique and rarely noticed by its critics and fans. It’s an element that, once spotted, is difficult to forget, and is perhaps inspiring for times like the one in which we currently live, when there are so many challenges to get through. Typically in action films, the hero faces an array of obstacles and setbacks, but largely solves one problem after another, completes one quest after another, defeats one villain after another, and enjoys one victory after another.

The structure of ‘Raiders’ is different. A quick reminder:

- In the opening sequence, Indiana Jones obtains the temple idol only to lose it to his rival René Belloq (Paul Freeman). - In the streets of Cairo, Indy fails to protect his love, Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), from being captured (killed, he assumes). - In the desert, he finds the long-lost Ark of the Covenant, only to have it taken away by Belloq. - Indy then recovers the ark only to have it stolen a second time by Belloq, this time at sea. - On an island, Indy tries to bluff Belloq into thinking he’ll blow up the ark. His bluff fails. Indy is captured. - The climax of the film literally has its hero tied to a post the entire time. He’s completely ineffectual and helpless at a point in the movie where every other action hero is having their greatest moment of struggle and, typically, triumph.

If Indiana Jones had done absolutely nothing, if the famed archeologist had simply stayed home, the Nazis would have met the same fate - losing their lives to ark’s wrath because they opened it. It’s pretty rare in action films for the evil arch-villains to have the same outcome as if the hero had done nothing at all.

Indy does succeed in getting the ark back to America, of course, which is crucial. But then Indy loses the ark, once again, when government agents send it to a warehouse and refuse to let him study the object he chased the whole film. In other words: Indiana Jones spends ‘Raiders’ failing, getting beat up, and losing every artefact that he risks his life to acquire. And yet, Indiana Jones is considered a great hero.

The reason Indiana Jones is a hero isn’t because he wins. It’s because he never stops trying. I think this is the core of Indiana Jones’ character.

Critics will go on about something called agency as in being active or pro-active. But agency can be reactive and still be kinetic to propel the story along. It’s something that has progressively got lost as the series went on. With the latest Indiana Jones film I felt that Indiana Jones character had no agency and ends up being a relatively passive character. Sadly Indiana Jones ends up being a grouchy, broken, and beat up passenger in his own movie.

Released in 1981, ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ remains one of the most influential blockbusters of all time. Exciting action, exotic adventure, just the right amount of romance, good-natured humour, cutting-edge special effects: it was all there, perfectly balanced. Since then, attempts have been made to reproduce this winning recipe in different narrative contexts, sometimes successfully (’Temple of Doom’ and ‘the Last Crusade’), usually in vain (’Crystal Skull’).

What are the key ingredients of an Indiana Jones movie? There are only four core elements - leaving aside aspects of story such as the villain or the goal - that you need in place before anything else. They are: the wry, world-weary but sexy masculine performance of Harrison Ford; the story telling genius of George Lucas steeped in the lore of Saturday morning action hero television shows of the 1950s; the deft visual story telling and old school action direction of Steven Spielberg; and the sublime and sweeping music of the great John Williams. This what made the first three films really work.

In the latest Indiana Jones film, you only have one. Neither Lucas and Spielberg are there and arguably neither is Harrison Ford. John Williams’ music score remains imperious as ever. His music does a lot of heavy lifting in the film and let’s face it, his sublime music can polish any turd.

This isn’t to say the ‘Dial of Destiny’ is a turd. I won’t go that far, and to be honest some of the critical reaction has been over-hysterical. Instead I found it enjoyable but also immensely frustrating more than anything else. It had potential to be a great swan song film for Indy because it had an exciting collection of talent behind it.

In the absence of Spielberg, one couldn’t do worse than to pick James Mangold as next best to direct this film. Mangold is a great director. I am a fan of his body of work. After ‘Copland’, ‘Walk the Line’, ‘Logan’ and ‘Le Mans 66’ (or ‘Ford vs Ferrari’), James Mangold has been putting together a fine career shaped by his ability to deliver stories that rediscover a certain old-fashioned charm without abusing the historical figures - real or fictional - he tackles. And after Johnny Cash, Wolverine and Ken Miles, among others, I had high hopes he would keep the flame alive when it came to Indiana Jones. Mangold grew up as a fanboy of Spielberg’s work and you can clearly see that in his approach to directing film.

But in this film his direction lacks vitality. Mangold, while regularly really good, drags his feet a little here because he’s caught between putting his own stamp on the film and yet also lovingly pay homage to his hero, Spielberg. It’s as if he didn't dare give himself away completely, the director seems too modest to really take the saga by the scruff of the neck, and inevitably ends up suffering from the inevitable comparison with Steven Spielberg.

Mangold tries to recreate the nostalgic wonder of the originals, but doesn't quite succeed, while succumbing to an overkill of visual effects that make several passages seem artificial. The action set pieces range from pedestrian to barely satisfying. The prologue sequence was vaguely reminiscent of past films but it was still a little too reliant on CGI. The much talked about de-ageing of Harrison Ford on screen was impressive (and one suspects a lot of the film budget was sunk right there). But Indiana’s lifeless digitally de-aged avatar fighting on a computer-generated train, made the whole sequence feel like the Nazi Polar Express. Because it didn’t look real, there was no sense of danger and therefore no emotional investment from the audience. You know Tom Cruise would have done it for real and it would have looked properly cinematic and spectacular.

The tuk tuk chase through the narrow streets of Tangiers was again an exciting echo of past films, especially ‘Raiders’, but goes on a tad too long, but the exploration of the ship wreck (and a criminally underused cameo by Antonio Banderas) was disappointing and way too short. 

The main problem here is the lack of creativity in the conception of truly epic scenes, because these are not dependent on Ford's age. Indeed, the film could very well have offered exhilarating action sequences worthy of the archaeologist with the whip, without relying solely on the physicality of its leading man. You don't need a Tom Cruise to orchestrate great moments but you could do worse than to follow his example. 

Mangold uses various means of locomotion to move the character  - train, tuk tuk, motorbike, horse - and offers a few images that wouldn't necessarily be seen elsewhere (notably the shot of Jones riding a horse in the middle of the underground), but in the end shows himself to be rather uninspired, when the first three films in the saga conceived some of the most inventive sequences in the genre and left their mark on cinema history. There are no really long shots, no iconic compositions, no complex shots that last and enrich a sequence, which makes the film look too smooth and prevents it from giving heft to an adventure that absolutely needs it.

And so now to the divisive figure of Phoebe Waller-Bridge. 

It’s important here to separate the person from the character. I like Phoebe Waller-Bridge and I loved her in her ‘Fleabag’ series. She excels in a very British setting. I think she is funny, irreverent, and a whip smart talented writer and performer. I also think she has a particular frigid English beauty and poise about her. When I say poise I don’t mean the elegant poise of a Parisienne or a Milanese woman, but someone who is cute and comfortable in her own skin. You would think she would be more suited to ‘Downton Abbey’ setting than all out Hollywood action film. But I think she almost pulls it off here. 

In truth over the years Phoebe Waller-Bridge, known for her comedy, has been collecting franchises where she is able to inflict her saucy humour into a hyper-masculine space. I don’t think her talent was properly showcased here. 

Hollywood has this talent for plucking talented writers and actors who are exceptional in what they do and then hire them do something entirely different by either miscasting them or making them write in a different genre. I think Phoebe Waller-Bridge is exceptional and she might just rise if she is served by a better script.

In the end I think she does a decent stab at playing an intriguing character in Helena Shaw, Indy’s long lost and estranged god daughter and a sort of amoral rare artefacts hustler. Phoebe Waller-Bridge brings enthusiasm, charm and mischief to the role, making her a breath of fresh air. She seems to be the only member of the on-screen cast that looks to be enjoying themselves. 

To be fair her I thought Waller-Bridge was a more memorable and interesting female character than either Kate Capshaw (’Temple of Doom’, 1984) and Alison Doody (’Last Crusade’, 1989). She certainly is a marked improvement on the modern woke inspired insipid female action leads such as Brie Larson (’Captain Marvel’), or any women in the Marvel universe for that matter, or Katherine Waterson (’Alien Covenant’). Waller-Bridge could have been reminiscent of Kathleen Turner (’Romancing the Stone’) and more recently Eva Green, actresses who command attention on screen and are as captivating, if not more so, than the male protagonists they play opposite.

To be sure there have been strong female leads before the woke infested itself into Hollywood story telling but they never made it central to their identity. Sigourney Weaver in ‘Alien’ and Linda Hamilton in the ‘Terminator’ franchise somehow conveyed strength of character with grit and perseverance through their suffering, while also being vulnerable and confident to pull through and succeed. Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s character isn’t quite that. She doesn’t get into fist fights or overpowers big hulking men but she uses cheek and charm to wriggle out of tight spots. She’s gently bad ass rather the dull ‘strong independent woman’ cardboard caricatures that Marvel is determined to ram down every girl’s throat. If Waller-Bridge’s character was better written she might well have been able to revive memories of the great ladies of Hollywood's golden age who had the fantasy and the confidence that men quaked at their feet.

What lets her character down is the snark. She doesn’t pepper her snark but she drowns in it. All of it directed at poor Indy and mocking him for his creaking bones and his entire legacy. It’s a real eyesore and it is a real let down as it drags the story down and clogs up the wheels that power the kinetic energy that an adventure with Indiana Jones needs. ‘The grumpy old man and the young woman with the wicked repartee set off across the vast world’ schtick is all well and good, but it does grate and by the end it makes you angry that Indy has put up with this crap. I can understand why many are turned off by Waller-Bridge’s character. As a female friend of mine put it, we get the talented Phoebe Waller Bridge’s bitter and unlikable Helena acting like a bitter and unlikable man. But it could be worse, it could be as dumb as Shia LaBeouf‘s bad Fonzie impersonation in 'Crystal Skull’.

I would say there is a difference between snark and sass. Waller-Bridge’s character is all snark. If the original whispers are true the original script had her way more snarkier towards Indy until Ford threatened to leave the project unless there were re-writes,  then it shows how far removed the producers and writers were from treating Indy Jones with the proper respect a beloved legacy character deserves. It’s also lazy story telling.

Karen Black gave us real sass with Marion Ravenwood in ‘Raiders’. Her character was sassy, strong, but also vulnerable and romantic. She plays it pitch perfect. Of all the women in Indy’s life she was good foil for Indy.

Spielberg is so underrated for his mise-en-scène. We first meet Marion running a ramshackle but rowdy tavern in Tibet (she’s a survivor). She plays and wins a drinking game (she’s a tough one), she sees Indy again and punches him (she’s angry and hurt for her abandoning her and thus revealing her vulnerability). She has the medallion and becomes a partner (she’s all business). She evades and fights off the Nazis and their goons, she even uses a frying pan (she’s resourceful but not stupid). She tries on dresses (she’s re-discovers her femininity). Indy saves her but she picks him up at the end of the film by going for a drink (she’s healing and there’s a chance of a new start for both of them). This is a character arc worth investing in because it speaks to truth and to our reality.

The problem with Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s character is that she is constantly full on with the snark. Indy and Helena gripe and moan at each other the entire film. Indy hasn’t seen her in years, and she felt abandoned after her father passed, so there’s a lot of bitterness. It’s not unwarranted, but it also isn’t entertaining. It’s never entertaining if the snark makes the character too temperamental and unsympathetic for the audience to be emotionally invested in her.

I think overall the film is let down by the script. Again this is a shame. The writing talent was there. Jez and John-Henry Butterworth worked with James Mangold on ‘Ford v. Ferrari’ and co-wrote ‘Edge of Tomorrow‘ while David Koepp co-wrote the first ‘Mission: Impossible’ (but he also penned Indiana Jones and the ‘Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’, and the 2017 version of ‘The Mummy’ that simultaneously started and destroyed Universal’s plans for their Dark Universe). I love the work of Jez Butterworth who is one of England’s finest modern playwrights and he seemed to have transitioned fine over to Hollywood. But as anyone knows a Hollywood script has always too many cooks in the kitchen. There are so many fingerprints of other people - studio execs and directors and even stars - that a modern Hollywood script somehow resembles a sort of Ship of Theseus. It’s the writer’s name on the script but it doesn’t always mean they wrote or re-wrote every word.

Inevitably things fall between the cracks and you end up filming from the hip and hoping you can stitch together a coherent narrative in post-production editing. Clearly this film suffered from studio interference and many re-writes. And it shows because there is no narrative fluidity at work in the film.

Mads Mikkelsen’s Nazi scientist is a case in point. I love Mikkelsen especially in his arthouse films but I understand why he takes the bucks for the Hollywood films too. But in this film he is phoning in his performance. Mads Mikkelsen does what he can with limited screen time to make an impact but this character feels so recycled from other blockbusters. Here the CIA and US Government are evil and willing to let innocent Americans be murdered in order to let their pet Nazi rocket scientist pursue what they believe to be a hobby. But to be fair the villains in the Indy movies have never truly been memorable with perhaps Belloq, the French archaeologist and nemesis of Indy in ‘Raiders’, the only real exception. It’s just been generic bad guys - The Nazis! The Thugee death cult! The Nazis (again)! The Commies! Now we’re back to Nazis again which is not only safer ground for the Indy franchise but something we can all get behind.

However Mads Mikkelsen’s Dr. Voller, is the blandest and most generic Nazi villain in movie history. At the end of World War II, Voller was recruited by the US Government to aid them in rocket technology. Now that he’s completed his task and man has walked on the moon, he’s turning his genius to his ultimate purpose, the recovery of the ‘Dial of Destiny’ built by Archimedes. Should he find both pieces of the ancient treasure, he plans to return to 1930s Nazi Germany, usurp Hitler, and use his advanced knowledge of rocket propulsion to win the war. In a sense then he was channeling his inner Heidegger who felt Hitler had let down Nazism and worse betrayed Heidegger himself.

So there is a character juxtaposition between Voller and Indy in the sense both men feel more comfortable in the past than the present. But neither is given face time together to explore this intriguing premise that could have anchored the whole narrative of the film. It’s a missed opportunity and instead becomes a failure of character and story telling.

Then there are the one liners which seemed shoe horned in to make the studio execs or the writers feel smug about themselves. There are several woke one lines peppered throughout the film but are either tone deaf or just stupid.

“You trigger happy cracker”-  it’s uttered without any self-awareness by a black CIA agent who is chaperoning the Nazi villain. Just because white people think it’s dumb and aren’t bothered by it doesn’t make it any less a racial slur. If you want authenticity then why not use the ’N’ word then as it would historically appropriate in 1969? The hypocrisy is what’s offensive.

“You stole it. He stole it. I stole it. It’s called capitalism.” - capitalism 101 for economic illiterate social justice warriors.

“[I’m] daring, beautiful, and self-sufficient” - uttered by Helena Shaw as a snarky reminder that she’s a strong independent woman, just in case you forgot.

“It’s not what you believe but how hard you believe.” - Indiana Jones has literally stood before the awesome power of God when the Ark of the Covenant was opened up by the Nazis, and they paid the price for it by having their faces melted off. Indy has drunk from the authentic cup of Christ, given to him by a knight who’s lived for centuries, that gave him eternal life and heal his father from a fatal bullet wound. So he’s figuratively seen the face of God (sure, he closed his eyes) and His holy wrath, and has witnessed the divine healing power of Christ first hand. And yet his spews out this drivel. It’s empty of any meaning and is a silly nod to our current fad that it’s all about the truth of our feelings, not observable facts or truth.

For me though the absolute worse was what they did to Indiana Jones as a character. Once the pinnacle of masculinity, a brave and daring man’s man whose zest for life was only matched by his brilliance, Henry Jones Jr. is now a broken, sad, and lonely old man. Indiana Jones is mired in the past. Not in the archaeological past, but in his own personal past. He's asleep at the wheel, losing interest in his own life. He's lost his son, he's losing his wife. He's been trying to pass on his passion, his understanding to disinterested people. They're not so interested in looking at the past. He remains a man turned towards the past, and then he finds himself confronted by Helena, who embodies the future. This nostalgia, this historical anchoring, becomes the main thread of the story.The film tries to deconstructs Indiana Jones on the cusp of retirement from academia and confronts him with a world he no longer understands. That’s an interesting premise and could have made for a great film.

It’s clear that the filmmakers’ intention was for a lost and broken Indiana to recapture his spirit by the film’s end. However, its horrible pacing and meandering and underdeveloped plot, along with Harrison Ford’s miserably sad demeanour in nearly every scene, make for a deeply depressing movie with an empty and unearned resolution. 

By this I mean at the very end of the film. It’s meant to be daring and it is. There’s something giddy about appearing during the middle of siege of Syracuse by blood thirsty Romans and then coming face to face with Archimedes himself. The film seems to want to justify the legendary, exceptional aura and character of Indy himself by including him in History. Hitherto wounded deep down inside, and now also physically wounded, Indy the archaeologist tells Helena that he wants to stay here and be part of history. 

It's a lovely and even moving moment, and you wonder if the film isn't going to pull a ‘Dying Can Wait’ by having its hero die in order to strengthen its legend. But in a moment that is too brutal from a rhythmic point of view, Helena refuses, knocks out her godfather and takes him back to the waiting plane and back to 1969. The next thing Indy sees he’s woken up back in his shabby apartment in New York.

I felt cheated. I’m sure Indy did too.

After all it was his choice. But Helena robbed him of the freedom to make his own decisions. She’s the one to decide what’s best. In effect she robbed him of agency. Even if it was the wrong decision to stay back in time, it’s so important from a narrative and character arc perspective that Indy should have had his own epiphany and make the choice to come back by himself because there is something worth living for in the future present - and that was reconciling with Marion his estranged wife. But damn it, he had to come to that decision for himself, and not have someone else force it upon him. That’s why the ending feelings so unearned and why the story falls flat as a soufflé when you piss on it.

‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ feels like the type of sequel that aimed to capture the magic of its predecessors, had worthwhile intentions, and a talented cast, but it just never properly materialised. In a movie whose pedigree, both in front and behind the camera, is virtually unassailable, it’s inexcusable that this team of filmmakers couldn’t achieve greater heights. 

The film was a missed opportunity to give a proper send off to a cinematic legend. Harrison Ford proving that whatever gruff genre appeal he possessed in his heyday has aged better than Indy’s knees. He may be 80, but Ford carries the weight of the film, which, for all its gargantuan expense, feels a bit like those throwaway serials that first inspired Lucas - fun while it lasts, but wholly forgettable on exit.

I wouldn’t rate ‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ as the worst film in the franchise - that dubious honour still lies with ‘Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’.  Indeed the best I can say is that I would rate this film at the benchmark of “not quite as bad as Crystal Skull”.But it’s definitely time to retire and hang up the fedora and the bull whip.

For what’s worth I always thought the ending of ‘Last Crusade’ where Indy, his father Henry Jones Snr., and his two most faithful companions, Sallah and Marcus Brody, ride off into the sunset was the most fitting way to say goodbye to a beloved character.

Instead we have in ‘Dial of Destiny’ the very last scene which is meant to be this perfect ending: Indiana Jones in his scruffy pyjamas and his shabby apartment. Sure, the exchange between a reconciling Indy and Marion is sincere and touching. But that only works because it explicitly recalls ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’. That's what Nietzsche would call “an eternal return”.

I shall eternally return to watch the first three movies to delight in the adventures of the swashbuckling archaeologist with the fedora and a bull whip. The last two dire films will be thrown into the black abyss. Something even Nietzsche would have approved of.

Thanks for your question.

[detectivejigsawpines]

A mind is a terrible thing to lose

“What other choice do we have?”

For a moment there was silence between the two old men.

Then Stan looked at his twin sharply.  “Tell me somethin’, Poindexter.  Have you ever made a deal with the triangle that didn’t end with ya bein’ screwed over one way or another?”

Ford blinked.  “Well-no, but-”

“Yeah, but nothin’.  I’m not doin’ that.”  With that, he began shrugging out of his suit jacket, and then untying his tie after he shrugged out of the sleeves and let it drop to the floor.

Ford’s expression was a comical depiction of disbelief: eyes popping, mouth hanging open, eyebrows up in his bangs.  After a second, though, he remembered how to use his mouth.

“Stanley, what are you-have you gone mad?!”

“Probably.”  Stan pulled his tie off, and began unbuttoning his shirt.  “I’m gonna need your sweater.”  He looked down at their respective pants.  “...Both black, so he might not notice if they’re the same, but I’ll need your boots too.”

At which point Ford finally caught up with his brother’s thought processes.  “...You can’t be serious.”

“Watch me.”  The younger twin held out his clothes.  “We don’t have much time, hurry up!”

“Stanley, you don’t understand!  If I use the memory gun on you, you’ll be-!”

“And Bill will be gone forever, and the kids won’t have ta grow up in this hellhole!”  With his free hand Stan gestured at the chaos of the world around them.  “It’s worth it, Stanford!”

Ford looked like he’d been poleaxed.  “Stan…”

“It’ll fix everything,” Stan insisted.  Ford feared that there was an unspoken, And you were gonna kick me out at the end of the summer anyway, so it’s not like I’ve got anything ta lose at the end of that sentence.

But he finally gave in to his brother’s impatient glare and removed his coat and sweater, handing them over and taking Stan’s clothes.  Then he silently exchanged their shoes and put on Stan’s fez, while Stan fluffed up his hair and worked on changing his voice to match Ford’s.

“Heh, this is gonna be like that time when we tried ta fool Ma so you wouldn’t haveta go ta boxing,” he said with a gruff laugh, clearly hoping to pretend that his hands weren’t trembling a little as he pulled on Ford’s gloves (stuffing the extra finger holes with pieces of wadded-up tissue that had been in his pocket).  Then he admitted more sheepishly, “...Course, we better hope Bill’s less perceptive than she was.  From what I’ve seen, though, he’s gonna be too busy gloating about ya ‘giving in’ ta notice much.”

Ford didn’t say a word.  His mouth started to open as they grabbed onto the bars of their cage again, but then Bill was back, with the kids clutched in one hand, and there was no time for him to say what he’d been thinking.

It’s not worth you, Stanley.

********

Grunkle Stan wasn’t gone.

He wasn’t completely back... but he was there.  He’d been found again.

The despair that had enveloped the family in the forest began dissipating as they laughed over Mabel’s eccentric scrapbook entries.

After a while Stan, Mabel and Soos dozed off, all relaxed against each other and drooling shamelessly.

Dipper, exhausted as he was, wasn’t ready to join them just yet.  Gingerly he slipped free of the armchair, and began making his way through the debris towards the kitchen.

“Dipper?  Where are you going?”

The boy froze up at the sound of his other uncle’s voice-and was startled by the feeling of his fists inadvertently clenching.  Quickly he opened them and said, keeping his voice low, “Just gonna see if we have anything salvageable to eat.”

He went on into the kitchen, and tried to pull the door closed behind him-except that only half the door was still there.  Dipper sighed, and got a chair to help him climb onto the counter and begin searching the cupboards.

Nothing...nothing...a few cans of partially eaten brown meat (ugh)... and nothing.

Dipper forgot about eating and went out to sit on the front porch.

Ow, everything hurt.  He rubbed his sore arm, and wondered if the hospital was open-if so, it was probably crowded with everyone else in town.  Soos had said that as far as he knew, they were all still alive, but his primary interest had been finding the Pines family as soon as the chaos ended so he didn’t know for sure-

Ford stepped outside, looking far less stiff and straight-backed than normal, and joined Dipper on the sofa.  And without warning, Dipper looked up at him and asked, “How could you?”

His tone was more devoid of awe than it had ever been when he was addressing his idol before.  Ford froze, breath hitching, and stared down at him.  Dipper continued, voice rising a little, “How could you do that to him?!”

Logically, Dipper knew why, of course.  The metal plate in Ford’s head meant that they couldn’t erase Bill out of it, so Stan was the best choice for that course of action.  But to be able to use the memory gun on your own twin, and basically destroy everything they were-he could never imagine doing that to Mabel, no matter how messed up things might become between them.

Ford let out a choked sound, and his shoulders drooped even more.  “It was our only option left, Dipper-”

Something exploded in the boy’s brain, and he leaped to his feet.

“IT WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN OUR ONLY OPTION IF YOU HADN’T TRIED TO CORRECT HIM ON HIS STUPID GRAMMAR!”

It had been a rough indeterminate amount of time for Dipper recently.  He’d spent three days (sort of, since time didn’t really exist during Weirdmageddon) constantly fleeing for his life and hiding from everything, nearly lost his sister to an evil bubble, gone through the entire emotional spectrum several times over, and been forced to watch his family and friends almost be destroyed by a giant Dorito in a top hat.  All his pent-up anger and hurt wanted someone to blame for all that, and it had just found a perfect target.

“YOU COULDN’T STOP FIGHTING WITH HIM EVEN THOUGH THE WHOLE WORLD WAS AT STAKE!”  Dipper couldn’t remember the last time he’d yelled at someone like this, waving his arms in the air and just ranting every angry thought that came into his head like an ugly tidal wave.  He was surprised the others hadn’t come out to investigate the noise; maybe they were so tired they were sleeping through it.  “YOU JUST KEPT HURTING EACH OTHER, OVER AND OVER, AND NOW GRUNKLE STAN BARELY REMEMBERS ANYTHING ABOUT WHO HE IS BECAUSE YOU-”

The tirade was brought to a halt by the most unlikely sound: a small, quickly drawn-in inhale through the nostrils; specifically, a sniffle.

And when he looked at Grunkle Ford again, he was horrified to see silent tears spilling down his face.

It was the second time Dipper had ever seen Ford cry.

The first time had been when he was holding Stan, but all he’d really seen of that were his uncle’s trembling shoulders, and when he finally pulled back there’d been damp trails on his face and on Stan’s (technically his) coat.  Seeing it happening right in front of him, though, was more than a little frightening.

“No, Grunkle Ford, I-I didn’t mean it-!”

“You’re not wrong.”

His uncle was holding himself, huddling into his trenchcoat and burying his fingers in the sleeves, and he was still crying.

“No, I’m sorry!”  Dipper climbed back onto the sofa and, unsure of what else to do, began digging around in his vest pockets in the futile hope that he might have some tissues.  “I didn’t mean what I said!”

“You did mean it, Dipper,” Ford corrected him softly.  “People who are angry are more likely to be honest about their feelings.”

“But it wasn’t fair to you!”  Dipper finally found a scrap of cloth that seemed relatively clean-he wasn’t sure where it had come from, but decided not to worry about it for now-and offered it to him.  Ford looked at the cloth in confusion for a moment, then took it and used it to rub under his eyes and clean his glasses.  “This wasn’t all your fault-Grunkle Stan could’ve calmed down, or I could’ve not fought with Mabel, or a lot of other things could’ve happened instead to fix all this.”

“But a great deal of it is my fault-specifically, everything that happened to Stanley because I trusted Bill.”  His hands shook, and he balled the cloth into one of them in a tight fist.

Dipper wasn’t sure what he should do...until at last he decided to act on his instincts, Mabel style.  He climbed into his uncle’s lap, and hugged him gently around the middle.

********

When they had both calmed down somewhat, Dipper murmured, “...I think I need to go back to Piedmont with Mabel.  I’m sorry, I know you really wanted me to stay, but-”

Ford shook his head.  “That is completely fine, Dipper.  I wouldn’t want to be taught by myself either.”

“No, I wasn’t-I was thinking maybe when I’m a little older, like after we finish high school and Mabel’s gone off to some fancy art school in New York or something-”  both of them laughed-  “then we could talk about that apprenticeship again...but I don’t want to be separated from her for the rest of our teenagehood.”

Ford nodded thoughtfully, and leaned back against the sofa.  After a moment he said, “You’re a wiser man than I am, Mason.”

Dipper didn’t know if he agreed with that, but he leaned against his uncle’s chest with a small sigh, and finally allowed his eyes to close.

[diarrheaofthekeyboard]

Confluence of Updates

7.26.2020

Writing on Writing

In addition to weekly therapy since November, I have been watching School of Life videos on YouTube. The latest video I watched helped confirm for me that I’m on the right path. I’m never going to eliminate my Inner Critic or ever feel completely comfortable with myself. I think if I did, that would be something extra-human. Neither are realistic goals. This particular video’s intent was to get people to write a journal. In a nutshell, you can’t keep it all in. Give yourself a daily mental outlet where you can release your thoughts and you’ll have less mental anguish. Well, here we are! Glad I’m on the right path. 

This may be the reason Sunday nights have recently become the most difficult for me. Brain won’t turn off, but it’s because I haven’t had what I’m trying to turn into my daily routine of walking in the morning and writing at night. The out I’m giving myself is this is all new and it takes some growing pains to get it right. 

Writing on Walking

I try not to spend money these days but any new venture is going to have some startup costs. My sneakers should be good for another month or so if I stick with it. I’ve been keeping my mask in my pocket, but that makes it difficult to pull it out when I actually see people, so I bought some neck gaiters I can pull up to be a mask. But the two big things were new headphones and shirts. 

The headphones are a big deal because of “the thud of footsteps”. As you may have figured out by now, I actually listen to music. It’s not just a beat or a background to keep me going. I’m actually interested in hearing it, reacting to it emotionally, having my own internal dialog about it, and just plain enjoying it. I can’t do that while walking because I hear the thud of my own footsteps with my headphones on. Happens with my Amazon Basics on-ear headphones, which are actually super awesome Monoprice headphones, and it also happens with my Sony earbuds I bought for phone calls. Turns out the Amazon ones are on-ear, closed back. And with the way earbuds have been redesigned, they create a closed back type effect. 

So I made an educated guess and took a chance on some KOSS open air, on ear headphones. Remember the shitty headphones that came with your Walkman? Those were open air, on ear headphones. Those are the ones I used to listen to Megadeth at top volume on in the back seat of my parents’ car so I didn’t have to listen to their shitty lite-fm radio. I found some good ones from KOSS that won’t make my ears hurt after listening to them for 30 minutes and they arrived today. Put them on, took three steps, no thud. Yeah, you can hear the music if you really get close to me. But it’s not like I’m crammed onto a subway around here. Monday will be the real test but so far it seems like $30 in Amazon points well spent. 

Now you may ask yourself, “why are new shirts a big deal?” I think it’s about self worth and there’s a bunch going on here. 

To this point, I’ve been wearing whatever t-shirt I want to walk. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with them. But they’re yer basic men’s printed band shirt or otherwise printed shirt. So they trend kinda heavy and not too comfortable. But you’ll be able to wear them through armageddon. Some of them are 10 to 20 years old. So there’s a lot of personal history and/or bullshit associated with them. Not only because of whatever is printed on them that I obviously liked. But also because of where/when I’ve worn them and how they’ve been associated with certain places. I don’t want to get rid of them or necessarily stop wearing them. But I do kinda just want to put them in a box at the bottom of my closet and start over. 

Then there’s the deserving part. I have more than enough varying degrees of uncomfortable shirts, I should just wear them and be done with it. I’m not good enough for new shirts. Especially some new shirts that are obviously designed for workouts and sports. I’m about 40 pounds overweight. I need to lose half that weight first and really get into a routine before I’m approaching good enough for new shirts. Otherwise, I’m just some pudgy poser. 

And I’ve been listening to this bullshit from my internal dialog for the past month, as I have been walking around my neighborhood. Well, we’re almost at the end of the month and I’m still going. And as I’m putting them in the cart and buying them, a 14 year old memory trying to get me to stop pops up. 

From ‘05 to ‘08 I played guitar in an off-off-off Broadway production of Oedipus. We actually did all three plays during that time. And the best way I can describe the production is “What would happen if George Orwell wrote Oedipus, and it played out on American Idol?” In 2006, we played for a week at the Fringe Festival in Brisbane, Australia. My anxiety nearly fucked me on getting a passport, but I was able to get over that. What really fucked me was the NYC blackout of that year, which hit my area for an extended period of time. 

One of the wonderful things about NYC is the laundromats have drop off service and will do your laundry for you. So I dropped off my laundry a few days before I was going to leave for Australia. Well, the fucking blackout took out the laundromat, with my clothes still inside. So I left for Australia with my guitar equipment and an empty suitcase. For some reason, I had insisted I wanted to fly JetBlue from NYC to LA, which meant I needed to take a cab to LAX. This turned into a blessing in disguise because the driver agreed to stop at Target while I ran around the store and bought whatever I thought might look ok. 

The black shirt I bought to wear onstage was an activewear shirt. It was kinda stretchy, but I figured it would hang loose. And of course it didn’t and we’re about to get onstage and I look like a fucking Ring Ding shoved into a muscle shirt. Everyone in the entire cast laughed at me. Finally, the drummer was nice enough to change shirts with me and he wore it. Later on that trip, he gave me the worst purple nurple ever. So this is what’s going through my mind in fucking Costco, and why I didn’t deserve new shirts. But I bought them anyway as a fuck you to that memory. 

And you know what? I took them out of the package and they smelled like chemicals. So I washed them and the neck gaiters and left them out to dry. Then I changed into one of the shirts to play pickleball with my kid yesterday afternoon. AND IT WAS PERFECTLY FINE. Yeah, I’m probably dumb for buying black shirts and I should have bought the white ones. But that’s toxic “oh black looks harder than white” for you/all band shirts are black/get ripped in a year and wear them onstage too. 

To top it off, we went to the pool this afternoon and after I showered, I put on one of my regular t-shirts. And it kinda felt constricting. I can’t wear the black shirts everywhere because they’ll smell like BO in 30 seconds. But I’m going to wear them a lot, and not be embarrassed about them. It’s ok to be comfortable. 

Whither, Music. 

Unsurprisingly, Bernstein’s lectures have led me to bite off more than I can chew. I haven’t been walking on weekends, so I haven’t been listening to him. But I did find a bunch of books I’ve either read too many times or not read enough, and pulled them out. They are:

Aaron Copland - What to Listen for in Music

Howard Goodall - The Story of Music

Glenn Kurtz - Practicing

Philip Toshio Sudo - Zen Guitar

Pat Pattison - Writing Better Lyrics

I haven’t really read anything other than news for a long time. Or I buy books, read some, and never finish them. This is obviously detrimental to my mental health. So like with walking and with writing, I’m going with what interests me. I’m not trying to be busy all the time, but I definitely want to keep from punishing myself like I have done historically. 

I started on Copland’s book last night. I read 25 pages, and that was only the Forward and Preface. So tonight I’m looking to get into at least the first chapter. 

I’ve also been watching some other YouTube videos, particularly “Now Hear This” which is a PBS show about classical music, and another series I found about “how to listen to classical music” from a channel called Inside the Score. Last night I got my Ford Prefect on, and listened to Beethoven’s 5th. Today, I’m listening to Holst’s “The Planets”, which of course is the Leonard Bernstein version. I gotta say, these new headphones sound pretty good. 

Lastly, I’m waiting on the book to Bernstein’s Harvard Lectures, which I will pick out every last piece he talks about, find it on Apple Music, and create a giant playlist. I hope the runners on the American River trail like classical music. They’re gonna hear a lot of it in passing.

[supercorps-imaginesetc]

Angsty Edge Lord Lena Luthor Playlist

So, most of these songs are just your general teen angst, but some of them have strong Lena vibes.

p.s. I just saw Pitch Perfect 3 and I love the Bellas so much and Bechloe really should’ve happened.

Playlist Link: https://open.spotify.com/user/along_tiffanymaxwell/playlist/1OUdDPZXwfEOtU3B8YUkpI

Angsty Edge Lord Lena Luthor Playlist

Cold Hard Bitch by Jet

“Cold hard bitch / Just a kiss on the lips / And I was on my knees / I'm waiting, give me / Cold hard bitch / She was shakin' her hips / That's all that I need.”

I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

“I wanna be your vacuum cleaner / Breathing in your dust / I wanna be your Ford Cortina / I will never rust / If you like your coffee hot / Let me be your coffee pot / You call the shots babe / I just wanna be yours Secrets I have held in my heart / Are harder to hide than I thought / Maybe I just wanna be yours.”

Come as You Are by Nirvana

“Come as you are, as you were / As I want you to be / As a friend, as a friend / As an known enemy.”

Dancing With Myself by Billy Idol

This song has always given me some angsty teen Lena vibes.

“With the record selection / And the mirror's reflection / I'm dancing with myself / When there's no-one else in sight / In the crowded lonely night / Well I wait so long / For my love vibration / And I'm dancing with myself…

Well there's nothing to lose / And there's nothing to prove / I'll be dancing with myself…

If I looked all over the world / And there's every type of girl / But your empty eyes / Seem to pass me by / Leave me dancing with myself.”

Bottom Of The Deep Blue Sea by Missio

“Welcome to my cage, little lover / Attempt to rearrange with you, baby / Still don’t know your name, Miss Honey / Let’s go up in flames, pretty lady The sweet surrender of silence forces me to live alone / Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind? / I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea / I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue.”

505 by Arctic Monkeys

“I'm going back to 505 / If it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive / In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side / With your hands between your thighs

Stop and wait a sec / Oh when you look at me like that my darling / What did you expect / I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck / Or I did last time I checked.”

Creature Comfort by Arcade Fire

“Creature comfort makes it painless / Bury me penniless and nameless / Born in a diamond mine / It's all around you but you can't see it / Born in a diamond mine / It's all around you but you can't touch it

Saying God, make me famous / If you can't just make it painless / Just make it painless

It's not painless / She was a friend of mine, a friend of mine / And we're not nameless, oh.”

Teenagers by My Chemical Romance

Staple teen angst song.

“They're gonna clean up your looks / With all the lies in the books / To make a citizen out of you / Because they sleep with a gun / And keep an eye on you, son / So they can watch all the things you do Because the drugs never work / They're gonna give you a smirk / 'Cause they got methods of keepin' you clean / They gonna rip up your heads / Your aspirations to shreds / Another cog in the murder machine.”

Evil Twin by Arctic Monkeys

“It's more a hunger than a thirst / You'll break it out the second time / Before you know about the first / Looks well-equipped to leave you in the lurch / But you'll let her do her worst.”

The Kids Don’t Wanna Come Home by Declan McKenna

“You don't know how to give love to anyone / You don't know how to pretend / You told your kids that they'd live long forever / But the kids don't wanna come home again / No the kids don't wanna come home again.”

Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana

The teen angst song that every teen angst playlist most include?

“With the lights out, it's less dangerous / Here we are now, entertain us / I feel stupid and contagious / Here we are now, entertain us / A mulatto, an Albino / A mosquito, my libido, yeah.”

Middle Fingers by Missio

So angsty

“I don't like the music other people tend to share / Hate your loser lyrics, middle fingers in the air / I'm a starving artist nowhere close to millionaire / I prefer my Kia, middle fingers in the air

I'll just keep on throwing middle fingers in the air.”

Misery Business by Paramore

“I'm in the business of misery, let's take it from the top / She's got a body like an hourglass that's ticking like a clock / It's a matter of time before we all run out / When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth.”

Kiwi by Harry Styles

Honestly, I didn’t expect a song like this from Harry. Surprisingly angsty Lena-esque

“She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it / I'm kind of into it / It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it / I think she said ‘I'm having your baby, it's none of your business’ / ‘I'm having your baby, it's none of your business’...

It's New York, baby, always jacked up / Whole tunnels, foreign noses always backed up / When she's alone, she goes home to a cactus / In a black dress, she's such an actress.”

1-800-273-8255 by Logic feat. Alessia Cara and Khalid

I feel like Lena would’ve felt like this at one point or another, but what do I know?

“I've been on the low / I been taking my time / I feel like I'm out of my mind / I feel like my life ain't mine / Who can relate? / I've been on the low / I been taking my time / I feel like I'm out of my mind / It feel like my life ain't mine.”

Movin’ Out by (Anthony’s Song) by Billy Joel

This one REALLY makes me think of teen angst Lena even though it doesn’t really fit with the other songs here.

“It seems such a waste of time / If that's what it's all about / Mama if that's movin' up Then I'm movin' out / I'm movin' out.”

do re mi by blackbear

LENA @ EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER SCREWED HER OVER

“Yeah, if I could go back to the day we met / I probably would just stay in bed / You run your mouth all over town / And this one goes out to the sound / Of breaking glass on my Range Rover / Pay me back or bitch, it's over / All the presents I would send / Fuck my friends behind my shoulder / Next time I'mma stay asleep / I pray the Lord my soul to keep, oh

And you got me thinking lately / Bitch, you crazy / And nothing's ever good enough / I wrote a little song for ya, it go like

Do, re, mi, fa, so fuckin' done with you, girl / So fuckin' done with all the games you play / I ain't no tic-tac-toe.”

[little-owly]

On Air

an rp done between me and @trash-2-point-o !! some dark/warf humiliation omo for yall!! hope you enjoy!

Wilford grinned as he bounced in his chair, practically bursting with excitement. He had a very special guest today, and even though he’d had to give up his soul to make him agree (he didn’t need it anyway), it was worth it. He was interviewing the one and only Dark Ip/lier. WOOHOO, CONFETTI. He straightened up as the cameraman signalled him, slapping on his signature grin and smoothing out his mustache (to be completely honest, he had no idea why it grew pink when the rest of his hair was black, but he didnt question it).

Wilford smiled his signature smile once more, his black curls bouncing as he heard the camera yell out an “action!”

“Good evening! I’m your host, Wil/ford War/fsta/che!” the audience cheered, loud exclaims of fans deafening.

“Tonight, we have a special guest. One known to prey upon mortals such as me and you. One known to with hold nothing but evil in his hole known as a heart. The very man who took my soul to just appear tonight – Mr. Darkip/lier!”

The crowd’s reaction turned controversial, half leaving – well, more like screaming – in fear, the other half cheering for the dark entity himself.

The light grew to a dim red, glitching sounds coming from the side of Wilford.

“No worries folks! That’s not our shoddy and weak equipment, just give him time-”

Dark appeared behind him, black smoke flooding the set.

“Goddamn it, I told you to not do that!” Wilford coughs out.

Dark rolled his neck slightly, gazing, unamused, at the other male. “And you think you can control me why?”

With that he strode casually over to the other chair, leaving Wilford to whine as he seated himself.

“Because it’s my show, asshole” he says under his breath as Dark takes his seat.

“So, you’re the evil and dark entity of the ever so lovely and famous Mar/kip/lier, are you not?”

Dark rolls his eyes, the crowd silent as they await his answer.

“Yes.”

“Uh, can you give me a better answer than yes?” Wilford complains, fixing his mustache.

“Indeed.”

“Maybe a, uh, more complex answer?”

“It is confirmed that I am the darker side of the YouTuber known as Mark Fis/chb/ach, or Mar/kip/lier.”

“Ok, you know what-”

the audience watches as Dark’s eyes become black. Wilford still complaining above the worried hushes.

“I thought this interview with some edgy evil twin would go great but nooooo” he drones on as Dark becomes angrier.

“How dare you,” Dark growls.

Wilford frowned, tilting his head. “…What? What’re you so DISGRUNTLED about?”

Dark looks Wilford in the eye (well, Wilford couldn’t actually make out where his eye was, taking in the fact his whole eye was black) and only growls once more, “I’ll give you one chance to actually get this so called interview started before I decide to take matters into my own hands.”

“Oh yeah, and what does that mean? I think you seem to forget this is my show with my name, see? Right there!” Wilford obnoxiously points out, taking a look at the sign behind them.

He didn’t even glance at it, head twitching as he fought back the rage threatening to burst.

“…Are you having a SEIZURE or something?”

Wilford leans forward to take a sip – well, more like a chug – of his water. Watching out the corner of his eye as Dark shakes with rage. His neck cracking as he twitches.

“Geez, don’t break your neck on my show. My ratings would drop-”

Wilford chokes as Dark stands, his strong hand closing around his throat, blocking his airway.

“You just had to fuck up your one last chance, didn’t you?”

“Hey, this show is PG13, can’t say-” Wilford chokes out before the grip on his neck grows tighter.

“I don’t know why I agreed to this. Your soul isn’t worth your insufferable personality.” He glanced to the audience and smirked. Even the more enthusiastic members were starting to get nervous, some already heading for the exit.

“I demand payment for this waste of my time. And I’d like to take it in the form of something else of yours…”

He glanced down at the water bottle, then at the still running cameras, chuckling darkly.

“Your pride.”

Wilford stared back at Dark, a shiver running up his spine as he heard the audience starting to move towards the exits.

“Oh no,” Dark growled, “you all stay here.”

The doors slammed shut, worried murmurs and panicked yells erupting.

“…my pride? Well, what the hell does that mean-”

Wilford nearly choked as the neck of the water bottle pushed past his lips. The cool liquid running down his throat, Wilford struggling to drink it all to avoid choking.

“It’s a bit petty, I admit, but effective.” Dark growled, rolling his eyes and not even flinching as Wilford punched him square in the jaw. “Oh please. You’re trying to harm a demon. How much more pathetic could you get?”

“It was worth a shot,” Wilford groans, holding the hand he used to punch Dark. Was he made out of steel? Why did one punch make him hurt more than Dark?

“I don’t think so,” Dark replied, pushing Wilford back into his seat. He cornered him, picking up the water bottle.

In one swift movement, Dark shoved the water bottle back in Wilford’s mouth.

“Drink. I might let you live after this if you do.”

Wilford didn’t really understand what Dark was trying to do, so he drank, looking more confused than terrified, though both emotions were there. Dark smirked, chuckling darkly. “You have no idea what I’m doing, do you? No matter, you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Other than keeping me well hydrated, no, I don’t know what you’re doing-”

Wilford nearly choked again as Dark slipped the bottle back into his mouth. Dark smirking.

“In due time you’ll see. For now, just drink up.”

Wilford rolled his eyes as he did. More confusion washing over him. Staring up at Dark’s black eyes. The quiet whispers of the audience as they watched the strange interaction.

Soon enough, he finished the bottle, sighing softly. “If you’re trying to DROWN me from the inside out, I’m not too sure how that will take away my PRIDE…”

“Oh, you’ll see. Now, why don’t we continue the interview?” He smiled, but it was a smile that sent bone-chilling shudders down the spines of anyone who saw it, a smile filled with malicious intent.

“You’re serious?! Finally!” Wilford shouts, throwing the water bottle off the set.

Dark takes his seat, a menacing smirk on his lips.

“So, what other questions do you have for me?” Dark replies, his voice low and deep.

“Alright, nevermind the strange occurrence, folks, let’s get RIGHT back into the interview!” The audience clapped nervously and Wilford glared, prompting them to applaud more sincerely. “Thank you. Now, Mr. Dark Ip/lier, would you say you’re perhaps JEALOUS of your counterpart’s successes?”

“I don’t believe so. In theory, his successes are nothing compared to the joy I feel when I have my own…successes.” he replies, scanning the terrified faces of the audience. They had every right to fear him.

“Oh! So what would you say your successes are, Mr. Dark Ip/lier?” Warf questions, stroking his pink mustache. Still wondering how it grew pink in the first place.

“Well, obtaining your soul was one.”

“Good, good, continue…” He could feel a slight pressure in his abdomen, like some outside force was affecting his lower regions. What was he doing?

Dark smirked once more, seeing Wilford cross his leg. He looked down at the spot his bladder would be, focusing on the spot so he could mess with Wilford more.

Wilford winced, trying to keep the interview going. He can handle the pressure in his body. Even if it feels like an outside force is pushing him down. Did Dark even have the power to do something like that?

It felt like something was pushing down as well as filling him up more from the inside, making him clench his legs together tightly. “So, uh…what exactly are you? Are you a DEMON? An evil SPIRIT?”

“I am a demon.”

“I see…”

“Now, how may one summon the almighty Mr. Dark Ip/lier?”

Wilford feels a shiver down his spine as the force fills him again. His bladder growing heavy, the urge to use the bathroom starting to bother him.

He cannot lose this interview, especially for a tiny bathroom break.

Dark smirks, the first signs of discomfort on Wilford’s face. The bright lights of the set making it obvious to him and the cameras.

“Is something wrong, Wilford?”

“Wh-what? No!” he yelled, crossing his arms.

“Odd…your crossed legs and arms convey defensive body language.”

“Absolutely not!” Wilford exclaims, “I’ll have you know I am very much okay and in control!”

Dark laughs, his tone low, “we’ll see about that soon, Wilford.”

Wilford’s expression changes ever so slightly. An uneasy feeling in his gut as his bladder fils again. The need to go becoming much stronger.

He knew what he was doing now, biting his lip. He would rather lose the interview than give him the satisfaction of his embarrassment. “Hang on, viewers, we’re going to take a quick brea-”

He tried to get up, but something held his wrists and ankles in place, like invisible hands. He struggled for a moment, then sighed, flexing his fingers in frustration and panic. “N-nevermind, I guess not…”

“How rude, leaving your guest in the middle of an interview,” Dark replied.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get this over with so we can cut to a break.”

“I suppose we could.”

Wilford took a deep breath, he knew he can hold it. He knew Dark was only playing games with him. No way he could give him the satisfaction of his embarrassment, right?

Dark smirks, “Next question?”

He hummed, trying to think of a question Dark could answer quickly. “…S-so what would you do if you met one of those who IDOLIZE you?”

“Hmm…well……” He thought for a moment, purposefully stalling. Wilford bit his lip, toes curling into his shoes.

“…Yes?”

“I’m thinking…”

Wilford waited for another ten seconds before shaking his head quickly. “Alright, next que-ahh-!!” He tensed up as he felt a sudden squeeze on his bladder, gripping the arms of the chair. Dark sneered, growling at him.

“Don’t interrupt me.”

“Can you j-just please answer the question?” Wilford groans, the grip on his bladder tightening. His foot taps impatiently.

Dark crosses his arms, stalling even more. His laugh is slow, watching Wilford squirm.

“Mr. Dark Ip/lier, please just answer the question-”

“Don’t you dare rush me!” Dark yells. The audience gasping in fear. The lights of the set flicker, Wilford groaning. He doubles over, the grip still strong on his bladder, the invisible hands pulling his legs apart.

He rested his chin in his hand to excuse his hunch, thighs quivering and teeth buried in his lip as he struggled to hold himself together.

“…Hmm…….I guess I’d just kill them.”

“Wha-that was it?!” Wilford cried, his voice cracking a bit. “That was all?!”

“I was looking for a true and sincerely answer. Much like I’ll do for the rest of this interview.”

Wilford groans, “come the fuck on-”

“Are you going to ask me another question or not?”

“Actually no! I won’t! That’s the interview, folks! I hope you enj-”

“You’re not going ANYWHERE…” Dark chuckled, standing from his chair. The lights turned on their own to focus directly and only on Wilford and his chair swiveled around so he was facing the audience head on. He yelped and tried to struggle against his invisible bonds, gritting his teeth. “Y-you can’t hold me down forever. Once you get bored of me and let me go-”

“You’ll be crying like the pathetic little baby that you are. Now…” He strode over to him, placing a hand suddenly and firmly on his shoulder. “…we’re going to play a little game…”

Wilford felt a shiver run up his spine yet again. He struggled against his invisible binds.

“What do you mean? You’ll get bored and go bother your alter-”

Wilford gasped, the pressure on his bladder growing firmer, as if it was forcing him to…

“Did someone realize what the game is, or do I have to spell that out for you too?” Dark growled.

The audience was pretty damn sure by this point, some even looking away out of respect.

Wilford couldn’t hold back a whimper, desperately trying to clamp his legs together to no avail.

“Oh no,” Dark whispered, all the audience looking back at Wilford. The ones who turned away found it hard to look away, feeling the same invisible force Wilford felt.

“Just keep those pretty little eyes on him and I’ll let you leave in one piece.”

He threw his head back, laughing deeply. Wilford moaned, his stubbornness breaking down as he tried to break free.

“Don’t do this.” he moans, “think of my ratings-”

“You of all people know there are those out there who would enjoy seeing this more than others…” He looked straight at the camera, grinning and tilting his head. “People who voice their fantasies over the internet…share their art and writing…like all of you reading this.”

Wilford wasn’t listening, his focus on preventing the inevitable. He whimpered loudly, squirming more to try and break free while he was distracted.

A few more moments passed between them. The silent panic of the audience, Wilford’s anxiety rising as the pressure on his bladder grows stronger.

“I must praise you for holding out for as long as you have. Many others would’ve, well, let go by this point.” Dark observes, placing his hands on Wilford’s shoulders.

“Oh, my, the camera is still on,” his hand moves to make Wilford look at the camera, his blush and tears running down his face.

“Knock it off,” Wilford replies weakly, “please.”

“Smile for the camera, baby.”

He turned his head away, but Dark forced it to snap back forward, showing off his tear streaked and sweaty face. It almost made Dark giddy to see him like this. He’d always been such a brat. It felt amazing to finally put him in his place.

Wilford’s eyes widened as he gasped, the pressure turning intense for a few seconds.

He clenched his jaw, feeling himself leak. The small spurt of warm piss staining his pants.

All on display for his audience and viewers.

Dark tightened his grip on Wilford’s chin, forcing him to stare back at the camera. The pressure leaving his bladder, still there, but comfortable enough for him to hold it.

“My, how rude of you, Wilford,” Dark teases, “what have you done? What’s this stain down your leg?”

Wilford only whimpered, crying harder. He flinched as Dark began to raise his voice.

“ANSWER ME.”

“FUCK YOU!!!!!” he cried, finally unable to take the teasing anymore. He whipped his head toward him, managing to catch Dark right in the nose hard enough to make him jolt back. For a fleeting moment, the grip on his wrists and ankles disappeared and he started to jump up, only to be yanked back down into his chair. Dark’s hands clapped onto his shoulders hard, fury practically radiating off of him as he twitched and convulsed.

“You reeeaaally shouldn’t have done that.”

In an instant, his middle visibly receded inward from the force of the invisible hand pressing onto it and he cried out, sobbing and writhing as he tried to fight it.

Wilford doubles over, outright sobbing. A cold sweat breaking out over his body as he tried to bring his legs together.

The hand presses down harder, Wilford begging the cameraman and the audience to look away, turn the equipment off and save his dignity.

“You dare do what he says and I’ll make you bleed out in a matter of seconds. Do you want to leave here alive?” Dark asks.

Wilford groans, another leak running down his leg. Much more noticeable to the audience and camera. The audience completely silent as they watch, some moving their pupils in the other direction. Out of respect for the clearly humiliated Wilford.

Finally, he just couldn’t take it anymore, letting out a loud sob as his muscles relaxed on their own. “Nonononono…”

Dark smirked as he watched the wet stain spread down his legs, yanking Wilford’s head up to show off his sobbing face. The poor man was trembling and crying, breathing heavy and mustache sticky with sweat and snot. “What did I say earlier? ‘You’ll be crying like the pathetic little baby that you are’? I was right, wasn’t I?”

Wilford choked out a tiny yes, wailing as Dark slammed his head into the back of the chair. “SAY IT SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR, YOU WORTHLESS SCRAP OF FLESH!!!!”

“FUCK-Y-Y-YOU WERE RIGHT!!! YOU WERE RIGHT…” he bawled, slumping forward as Dark let go of his hair.

Dark circled him, as if he was sizing him up. Wilford continues to sob, looking at his pathetic expression in the puddle under him.

“So, my dear audience, how does it feel to see your dear host in this state? His true colors showing, seeing him for the pathetic little baby he is?”

The audience stays silent. Dark smirking as he scans the crowd.

Still slumped forward, Wilford began to bawl once more. Watching as Dark stepped in front of him.

“You should clean this up soon. It’ll ruin the set, if you even have this show anymore.”

Wilford sobs again. “Let me go…”

“Hmm…alright, I’ve had my fun.” He snapped his fingers and the invisible bonds were released, Wilford’s legs immediately clamping together and spinning the chair around to turn himself away from the watchful eyes. “I will admit, you were right on one thing. I’ve grown bored of this. You’re not worth much more of my time.”

He turned to the audience, giving a chuckle and a bow. “I hope you enjoyed the show~…” And with that, he was gone in a burst of black smoke, leaving Wilford to wallow in his shame.

Wilford sits there, head in his hands as he sobs again. The audience beginning to move. The cameraman running off, not wanting to stick around to see Dark again.

The audience murmur to each other, watching the chair shake as Wilford cries out more.

“…Wilford?” he hears someone call out. His blood running cold, waiting for the mocking to come.

One of the fans stood, making their way onstage and putting a hand on his shoulder. “…Wilford? It’s ok, hun…”

He choked on a sob, curling up tighter.

The fan slowly began to run tiny circles into his shoulders, relaxing him as much as they could.

He sobbed more, tears staining the front of his shirt. He could hear other fans coming forward, some leaving quickly – having the same fear as the cameraman.

“I…” Wilford choked out, the fan still whispering to him, “it’s okay, just calm down hun.”

“We don’t think any different of you, Wilfy!”

“Yeah! We still love you! Dark can go eat a cactus!”

The fans began bursting with support and positivity, not even mentioning the fact that he’d wet his pants. Wilford smiled through his tears, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Th-thank you…”

“Of course, dude!”

“Remember! War/fsta/che don’t take shit from anybody, including Dark!”

Wilford continued to wipe away his tears, his sleeve damp.

“Want help walking to your dressing room?” the first fan asked, their voice low as Wilford tried to stand on his own. Still getting use to the feeling of moving freely.

He nodded, holding onto their arm to keep himself steady as he staggered offstage.

The fan helped him move along. Wilford limping as his wet pants began to grow cold, sticking to his skin.

“Here we go,” they whispered, opening the dressing room door. Wilford stepping inside quickly. The fan helping him get settled in before turning back around.

“We all still love you Warf, take it easy, okay hun?”

Wilford turned his head to face the fan before they left.

“Thank you so much…” he smiled, blowing the fan a kiss. They smiled back, stepping out and closing the door.

[radioleary-blog]

The Password is Fidelio

Fidel Castro was found dead. Looks like our 1961 CIA secret plot to kill him was more effective than we thought! I guess they chose a more long-range method of execution, probably for plausible deniability. That way, the blame and blowback couldn’t come back to haunt the President. Of course, that was President Kennedy, so he’s the one doing the haunting now. And there was blowback for Kennedy, but it came from the grassy knoll at Dealey Plaza. Back, and to the left.

How arbitrary and unfair is the world when we lose a great man like JFK way back in 1963, but an asshole dictator like Fidel Castro got to live until right now? It might even be worse than when Chris Farley died, and yet we still have David Spade. Although, ‘Joe Dirt 2’ was such a disaster that in the credits, it lists the director as “Zapruder”.

We lost Kennedy so long ago, it was before the Beatles came to America to appear live on the Ed Sullivan Show and take America by storm. Think about that, folks. That means that if Kennedy had lived, he could have protected the U.S. from the British Invasion..! But while LBJ was exponentially deepening our military involvement in Viet Nam, we lacked the military might at home to protect the borders from an invading army of Skiffle bands and adorable, jangly guitar acts. There was no stopping them. And they weren’t always sending their best, folks. While our soldiers were fighting Ho Chi Minh, there was no one to stop Herman’s Hermits. We fought at Da Nang, we should have fought Donovan. Tet offensive? Not as offensive as the Troggs. And it was literally an invasion by The Zombies. I’m not sure what happened to them, I think after they recorded “Time of The Season,” Rick Grimes killed them with a machete.

But I digress.

Fidel Castro. If you’re young and don’t know much about this short, disheveled, rumpled, cigar-smoking old man, well, he was kind of like Peter Falk as Lt. Columbo. Except instead of going around solving murders, he went around ordering them.

But if you’re young, you don’t know who the hell Columbo is either. Columbo? Herman’s Hermits? Jesus Christ, I gotta start using references from this century. If I only knew what article of speech Wiz Khalifa was, I’d use it in a sentence.

We don’t know much about Castro’s death at this point, only that was very despondent over the break-up of a long-term relationship. Apparently his BFF Vladimir Putin dumped him recently for Donald Trump.

I hear that Castro might have survived, but the ambulance they sent for him was a 1958 Ford Edsel, held together only by bread-ties and a sense of communist solidarity. It might be a worker’s paradise, but not if you want to work in a car dealership. Thanks to our embargo, the last time there was a new car in Cuba, Fredo Corleone was driving around in it with Johnny Ola. I know it was you, Fredo. You broke my heart. You broke my heart!

I seriously think the best thing that came out of Cuba in the last 50 years was Godfather II. Sorry, cigars, close, but no cigar. Godfather II takes the cake, and the cake is shaped like Cuba.

And I’d have to say the second-best thing to come out of Cuba was Al Pacino again as Tony Montana in Scarface. I just wish there was more cocaine in the movie. There was more white powder in Scarface than when Jack Nicholson chased Danny through the hedge maze in a snowstorm in The Shining.

And the third-best was Al Pacino again in Carlito’s Way. Yeah, I know he was Puerto Rican in that, but so what, Pacino is cool.

Fidel Castro was the world’s most powerful Socialist. Except for one Senator from Vermont.

Now with Castro’s death, the worst island Dictator in the world is now unquestionably Jeff Probst. If Castro tortured his political prisoners as badly as any Survivor reward challenge, Amnesty International would have a stroke. And Jeff Probst has kicked more people off the island than the Mariel boatlift. “I’m sorry Elian, bring me your torch, the tribe has spoken. You’ll have to leave the island immediately. Unless you have a diplomatic immunity idol.”

It’s sad that Fidel died before realizing his biggest dream, taking over as the new host of NBC’s Celebrity Apprentice. Now who will lecture Boy George, Vince Neil and “Snooki” on workers controlling the means of production? Come on, host Arnold Schwarzenegger can’t even pronounce Marxism. “Mox-zhissom!” Nope. Castro would have been perfect, he was really good at firing people. Well, firing at people. In fact he had a whole squad of people just to do the firing. I forget what they were called. Squad of firers? No, that’s not it. Anyway, he...Firing squad! That’s it! In fact, I think the first celebrity he “fired” was Ernesto “Che” Guevara. I was hoping it would be Omarosa.

Castro left his brother Raoul to rule Cuba, and left his beard to every hipster in Brooklyn.

So long Fidel, I don’t know where you’re going, but I know it rhymes with “Fidel”.

[rawinternets]

Star Wars Episode 7: A rediscovery.

I said before that Episode 1 / the prequels were the main impetus for this whole exercise. That is true, in a way. But it is only true in that I needed to see the prequels and the originals so I could compare my feelings about them with my Ep7 and Ep8 feelings.

If Ep7 and Ep8 didn’t exist, I doubt I would have undertaken this exercise. See, as I mentioned in the opening post, I had a suspicion that the new episodes were all the things many have criticized them for: derivative, overly commercial, written by committee. The magic of the originals has been lost, and we are left with simulacra.

It’s important that I come clean with a fact: I hate JJ Abrams. I think he’s a hack. He is fantastic at opening stories and god-awful at closing them. My hatred for JJ and his trademark approach began with the TV show Lost, where JJ opened an incredible number of fascinating storylines in the first 2 seasons, only to ad-lib the next four seasons to a highly unsatisfying ending. He re-made Star Trek by essentially cribbing from all the best Star Trek movies in the past, and I enjoyed that movie - while watching it, but not much upon reflection. For example, Young Cap’n Kirk is driving his father’s sexy car through the cornfields of Iowa - until he drives it over a ravine as big as the Grand Canyon. in the middle of Iowan corn fields. It’s a beautiful spectacle until you stop to think for a half second... wait, what? But by that time you’ve moved on to the next spectacle. 

Like eating a Big Mac, JJ Abrams tastes good in the moment and then you realize what you just ate is mostly soybean paste, flash-frozen low quality meat, spongy bread, rubber cheese, all buoyed by artificial aromas that trick your brain into thinking that this is delicious, but only in the moment. 

In short, a Big Mac is not good food, and JJ Abrams movies are not good movies. 

But I really wanted to give this movie another chance. I wanted to know - was Episode 7 the “one beer too many” on a big night out, the one that feels good in the moment, but you later regret? Turns you off the beer brand once and for all? Is Episode 7 the extra Halloween candy that you eat at 10:30pm that makes you nauseous, impels you to throw the whole bag out? Did I lose any love and hope for Star Wars because Episode 7 delivered too much of the same thing, a Disney-ified, Abrams-ified, unoriginal pastiche of a pastiche? 

The answer is “yes” and “no,” but mostly “yes.” This movie starts off amazingly - classic Abrams - but quickly loses its way, and tries to find it again by running into the same grooves we’ve already worn well over the past 7 Star Wars releases (in this respect, Rogue One gets the pass and Ep7 gets hurt because of my order). And while I was still eager to see Episode 8 (review to come), I was far less optimistic for the franchise, as I could see the blueprint for the future, and it is the same as the past. JJ Abrams is set to direct Episode 9, if you didn’t already know. 

But of course -- JJ Abrams filmmaking is perfectly attuned to this kind of review. Taking poll on my feelings in the moment is the best way to watch an Abrams movie. That way, I can’t think too deeply about the fact that we’ve seen this before - in copy or rhyme - in nearly every scene shot. So even though this movie grades out not great - I feel even less great about it the more I think about it. 

Onto the scores. 

Average score: 6.57 Standard deviation: 2.01

Scroll. 7. Wait, why is there a new empire and a new rebellion? Why doesn’t a new republic have the ability to amass more forces to defeat a fragmented group of Empire loyalists? Are we saying the Empire never fell? If so, what were we celebrating at the end of Ep6? (Movie moves too fast to have these thoughts in the moment... these come to you afterward). 

Jakku. 8. A cool star destroyer shot, Very cool stormtrooper visuals. BB8 is pretty cool. "This will begin to make things right." Poe is cool. Great and tangible feeling on the raid. Super scary. But wait... how did the First Order not scan for the X-wing? And Poe didn’t try to hide it? Even an awning or some covering would be fine. But still... good tension in the scene. Flametrooper! But wait... Another secret piece of info goes with a droid in the desert... mmmmmmm OK... Really like humanizing the stormtrooper, with a dramatic bloody handprint on (we later know is Finn’s) stormtrooper head. PTSD. And then comes Kylo Ren’s badass ship (that looks a lot like Darth Vader’s....).

Kylo Ren. 9. Kylo freezing the blaster bolt is superdope. I can forgive his Darth Vader wannabe character mask. I'm fine with the subtle "you talk first? I talk first?" joke by Poe. Fine to make fun of the mask as well. FUCK Captain Phasma - I immediately have distaste for this character. Finn’s Stormtrooper regret @ the massacre is cool. I like that.

Finn’s break. 7. Finn taking his mask off - a really powerful first shot. Captain Phasma is worthless. Did you know that this character was created because someone made concept art of a chrome stormtrooper for fun, Kathleen Kennedy walked into someone’s office and saw it and said “that has to be in the movie, it looks so cool,” and then they decided it should be a woman soldier for marketing purposes? What I’m trying to say is, the storytelling process was not the purest here. Phasma is exhibit A. 

Rey intro. 9.  JJ at his best: Really cool atmospherics on Jakku. Amazing wide shots of the empty destroyer bay. Rey is hot. Amazing shots. Huge scale of the desert and the downed star destroyer. Speeder... fine. Tie fighter wing down. amazing speeder shot with another downed destroyer. Fine with the stupid bird. (But... we have another mysterious sorta-poor desert dwelling force-sensitive hero?)

Trading. 9. Pretty beautiful shots (although borrowing heavily from Ep4?). Fine with the trading. I like the weirdo aspect of this girl idolizing the rebels and meticulously counting days. making a cool bread loaf thing. Lives in an ATAT, that's awesome too. Wearing silly rebel hat.

BB8 meets Rey. 8. Sorta bad dialogue (and “classified droid” of course). Nice desert shots.

Torture of Poe. 8. The mind reading is intense. Hux is fine. (But haven’t we seen a main character get tortured by Darth / Kylo before?)

Trading Part 2. 8. Why doesn’t Rey take the money for the droid? She’s so pure and perfect? Serendipity? 

Finn Rescues Poe. 7.  Wait... why? I guess Finn heard a good pilot is on board and he wants out. I don't love Finn’s heavy breathing. (Have you seen this? In bad action movies or even good ones, the actors are constantly hyperventilating to amp up the tension. I’m seeing it even in Harry Potter, particularly with Ron. Once you see it, you can’t unsee it ... like the Wilhelm Scream). The dialogue is fine but not great between the two, trying to get the vibe together. Tie fighter leaving the hangar bay... Kind of like that. Turrets on the outside of Star Destroyers never hit anyone... why do they exist? One tie fighter can escape a star destroyer!? Why do THEY exist? 

They crash. 8.  Fighter gonna crash. Hux is fine. Phasma is fine. Kind of a cool shot on the Tie fighter crash. I like the wide desert shots. Tie fighter sinking is cool. Finn stripping is humanizing. Desert shots are great here. (But we’re again following some crashed droids/people on a desert planet?)

Kylo and Hux bicker. 8.  What's with the bickering? But they do a good job. Kind of harkens back to Tarkin and Darth (too much similarity?)

Finn meets Rey. 7.  I like the monster kicking him out of the way from drinking the water at the watering hole. This is the point in the movie where I started to think - Rey is a Mary Sue? BB8 shocking Finn is fine. Finn laying it on a little thick with the humor.

Escape in the Falcon. 8.  Stop taking my hand! Meh. The Falcon! “That one’s garbage! ... The garbage will do.” Fine, pretty good. Cool shot of the Falcon escaping. BB8 in free fall in the Falcon is fine. "I'm getting pretty good at this" says Finn. You got one Tie fighter, dude. (The longer this goes the more this feels like old sequences from Ep4...) Going inside the destroyer is cool (and then feels like being in the Death Star in ep6...). The shut-engines-off-flip-downwards-and-shoot was a cool move, and some good shots in that sequence. 

Kylo temper tantrum. 8. I like this part. It's petty and stupid, but it's a good contrast to the control of Vader.

Falcon and Han/Chewy. 7. Finn says “Droid please” (eye roll). BB8 gives a flame/lighter “Thumbs up.” Meh. Rey is a Mary Sue perfect mechanic... Finn being into her is a little meh. Tractor beam is meh. Han and Chewy discover them, meh fine but how the fuck did they just so happen to be there? They explain away that Han and Chewy just happen to be right where the Falcon is, moments after it flies for the first time after sitting on Jakku for years. Classic JJ. Pretty blatant sentimentality by Han that I'm not really getting drawn into. Luke Skywalker map. All this said, Harrison Ford is good as always.

Rathtars. 7.  Death gang, Mantoon, Rathtar... meh. How did the second gang get on without him knowing? Fine with this I guess. Sad that Han is a sad old man hauling freight and swindling people. 7 movies and nothing changed. Rathtar monster is fine. (A little like Indiana Jones with large ball-like thing rolling down a hallway-like thing). Not huge on this chase sequence. Another alien tentacle monster dragging hero somewhere without eating hero. (Where have I seen this before?)

Snoke. 6.  This is where I really start turning on the movie as it relies more and more on worn tropes. Another massive hologram... who the fuck is this guy? Another... weapon? This speech sucks by Hux. Who is this ultra powerful force sensitive villain? Kylo Ren is Han Solo's kid... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmeh. Where did this new emperor come from? Is he a Sith? What the fuck is all this.

Rey and Solo fly. 7.  Comedic + Mary Sue Mechanic is meh. Lots of references to old Star Wars here. Luke is running away? Why? (Is JJ opening mysteries that won't be closed?) Rey saying “I didn’t realize a planet could be this green” is a nice touch.

Han offers Rey a job. 7.  Why is Rey so attached to Jakku and her parents who have been gone for so long? Meh.

Maz Kanata's. 5.  Cantina 2... I really expected to like it better than I did, and I didn’t expect to like it that well. Really shitty music. So derivative as a scene. Relationshp advice with Leia? mmmmmmmeh. Empire again. Mmmmmmeh. Finn is a runner. Meh. Maz is a New Yoda, sorta. Meh. What's the point of Maz climbing on the table to look at Finn?

Kylo has feelings. 8. Crushed Darth Vader helmet is pretty cool. Have you seen the “Emo Kylo Ren” twitter? Worth it. 

Finn tries to run. 7.  This storyline is fine... Finn's a coward. He's in love with Rey for "looking at me" meh. They aren't so much conversing as just saying sentences at each other. Do they even know each other? it doesn't feel like a solid connection. (Kind of like another heterogeneous faux-mance of yore?)

Rey finds Luke's lightsaber. 8. I wrote: ���At least it was a pretty interesting vision. Captivating. Lightsaber calls to her! interesting. Nobody waiting for you in Jakku. She runs away... interesting, OK, good.”

Starkiller. 1. Wait... the new base is a planet. It's a third fucking death star. Hux makes a shitty Nazi speech. What the flying fuck is this shit. Are we in the same system here? How did they build this weapon so easily when the Empire collapsed? How come people can see the weapon destroying the entire planetary system? What the shit. Fuck that. It looked cool at least, but this is a fatal and inexcusable flaw in this film.

BB8 Macguffin. 4. Sick of BB8 as the macguffin too, now. Rey wants to run, fine.

First order attacks Maz's. 2.  Meh. Give lightsaber to the team. How is the First Order here? Is everything in the galaxy really fucking close to each other? What is going on? Kylo is here too? And now Finn is going use a lightsaber. And Han can shoot without looking. And there's a TR8R droid with a like handheld weapon that fights lightsabers? And this novice can use the lightsaber and not die? And Han saves him and then gets captured? Big bowl of Nope. 

Resistance saves the day... 6. Why are these guys here? for the droid, sure, I guess. Everyone's looking for Luke. I'm sick of this battle already. Nice tracking shot of Poe I guess but sorta meh. Maybe I’m still hung over from the Starkiller reveal. 

Kylo meets Rey. 8. Force freezing Rey in place is cool enough. Kylo with Rey is good. Han watches her get kidnapped. Finn gets balls.

Han sees Leia. 6. I'm supposed to be sentimental about this but it's just sad. C3PO still sucking, all these years later.

Rebel base. 7.  Finn’s Reunion with Poe Dameron... fine. In the rebel base, fine. Leia is... fine. Old woman. Still fighting. Sad. What a treadmill this saga has been for her and for everyone. Map is partially complete, meh. R2 nostalgia. Meh.

Leia and Han. 7. Is this good? I can't tell if it's good. It's fine. Snoke seduced our son. Mmmmmmmeeeeehhhh. Still good in the kid! Good vs evil hooray! Turn the evil man good! (Where have we heard all this before?) 

Rey and Kylo battle of wills. 9. Kylo takes off his mask. Good drama and reveal. Rey is attracted to him. Good, interesting, sort of sexually charged energy and tension here. Really well done scene - particularly well acted. 

Snoke angry. 6. I wrote: “Just meh. Fuck Snoke.”   

Rey mind trick. 8.  Sure, I like it, she's organically discovering the force. Preternatural. Fine, OK with that. I like the stormtroopers walking away from Kylo’s temper tantrum.

The starkiller base again? 1.  Charging the weapon from nearby sun... just... pure spectacle. "It's another death star" says Han/Leia. No shit. Power of the sun... MMMMMMmeeeeeeeehhhhh. So unoriginal. "There's always a way to blow it up" says Han. Thermal oscillator.... mmmmmmm. Disable the shields (just like Ep6). Gotta be there on the planet! Of course, as always! (Let's attack another fucking Death Star the same fuckin' way as before - with a bombing run and a sneaky secret force on the ground).

Han and Leia bye. 6.  Meh, is how I feel.

Han et al assault base. 3. Meeehehhhhhhhhhhhhh let's land at light speed Hollywood style! The ship hangs off a ledge, duh! "That's not how the force works" meh. Yeah that's fine, but what a stupid plan. 15 minutes until death! of course! Phasma walking around by herself of course! Finn in charge! Meh. Not loving Finn. Rey sneaking around. Meh. Not a big fan of Boyega's over-acting comedic. "Yeah there is a trash compactor” meeeehhhh. More comedic tensiony stuff. Too much fan service, too much hokey. 

Another death star assault. 3.  It's pretty, but stupid. C3PO "it would take a miracle to save us now" meehhhhh. 

Kylo kills Han. 5.  Emotionally pretty sterile feeling. I’m just not there with them. And another infinite column for Han to fall down (like the Emperor, Darth Maul, Luke in ep5...) And everyone there to dramatically watch... just... meh.  Snoke... boo. This dialogue is just kinda shitty. "You know it's true. search your feelings." Adam driver does very well in this scene with Rey. He's really great. John Boyega sucking... overdramatic. No connection to Leia here as she feels Han’s death. Just don’t care. 

Kylo vs Rey and Finn. 7. Kylo is pretty badass. Amateur lightsaber fight: not a big fan. Pretty small fan, actually. Rey is badass but still amateur. Another ledge to hang off! Still, the fight is pretty cool. Snow steaming is cool after the lightsaber slices through. And even, a whole other ledge, a chasm in fact! Meh fine.

Trench run two. 6.  Another trench run. Poe flying inside = another DS2 core reactor shot.

Starkiller blows up. 6.  Snoke really sucks. Here comes the Falcon to save the day of course! In your darkest hour. Pretty shot. Pretty Death Star 3 explosion (and another death star blows up again...)

Celebration. 5. Dramatic Leia blows by Chewy and hugs Rey, but they never met. 

R2 wakes up. 6. C3po *still* sucks. Why is his arm red again? The part of the galaxy that has the map that is unknown and uncharted is right in the middle of the damn galaxy??

Rey goes to Luke. 9.  Beautiful scenery (Skellig Michael in Ireland). Dramatic. There's Luke! OK I like this scene. This is good. Super dramatic and memorable and iconic. At least the movie ended on a strong note. 

VERDICT

Is there anything else to say? The plot hangs together like a disintegrating, snotty piece of tissue paper. Everything is a crib of something else in the SW universe. The visuals are pretty and the beginning is fire, and most of the rest is obnoxious. Kylo and Rey are actor highlights, to be sure... but Leia is wooden and virtually inaccessible, Han is on autopilot, Finn is trying too hard, and Poe is fine (but not captivating to me). This movie really lost me and even though the numbers went up and down after ~Maz, my feelings were pretty low for the last 2/3 of the journey. Five “9″ scenes - mostly at the beginning or the end - and a fair amount of 7/8′s but also a lot of bad scores. A score of every number, except 10. A movie that scores better than it maybe should have, and it didn’t score all that well in the end. 

REVIEW LINKS:

Introduction: Star Wars, a rediscovery.

Rogue One: 6.92 / 10.00 (stdev 2.06).

Episode 4: A New Hope. 8.00 / 10.00 (stdev 1.34).

Episode 5: The Empire Strikes Back. 8.00 / 10.00 (stdev 1.29).

Episode 1: The Phantom Menace. 5.00 / 10.00 (stdev 2.08). But probably worse than that, actually.

Episode 2: Attack of the Clones. 5.48 / 10.00 (stdev 2.07).

Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith. 7.00 / 10.00 (stdev 1.77).

Episode 6: Return of the Jedi. 7.90 / 10.00 (stdev 1.91).

Episode 7: The Force Awakens. 6.57 / 10.00 (stdev 2.01).

Episode 8: The Last Jedi. 6.31 / 10.00 (stdev 1.89).

Verdict: Star Wars, A rediscovery.

[closetofanxiety]

Show Review: Blitzkrieg Pro, “Ruby Soho”

This is what I did on Saturday. Let’s get at it.

When: Saturday, March 26, 2017

Where: The Former Enrico Fermi High School, Enfield, Conn., USA

Who: “Hundreds” of fans, according to the Springfield, Mass. newspaper; I would estimate between 350-400, but keep in mind I’m notoriously bad at crowd counts. Blitzkrieg is unique-ish in having its own crew of uniformed men to lead the fans’ chants; the Full-Throttle Wrecking Crew is four middle-aged guys in red shirts and leather vests, banging chains on a table throughout the matches. It’s actually not a terrible idea; at least there’s noise during bad matches.

Juan Francisco de Coronado vs. Mr. USA Tony Atlas

This is about what you’d expect for an opening match between a comedy foreigner from Chikara and the 62-year-old Atlas. Lot of “U-S-A! U-S-A!” chants directed against Coronado, who is from Ecuador, that longtime rival of the United States. Atlas wins with a series of arm drags, and then cuts a long, rambling promo about the greatness of America and the need to restore prayer to public schools. The building we’re in used to be a public school, but now it’s closed, and I don’t know what Enfield uses it for. To host wrestling events? It’s possible. Enfield is that kind of town. Rating: One and a Half Leather Vests.

Four Corners Tag Team Match: The Breakfast Club vs. The Batiri vs. The Throwbacks vs. The East Coast Bastard Crew

This is kind of your archetypal Blitzkrieg Pro match, in that there are a lot of guys in the ring and it’s basically chaos. Heavy on the comedy, as you’d expect from a match involving the Breakfast Club and a bunch of Chikara guys; at one point, they played a game of mime baseball. Harley Race would die on the spot just so he could turn in his grave. I don’t mind a little comedy, but this match went a full 20 minutes, which felt over-indulgent. The Breakfast Club won, to a decent cheer from the crowd. Rating: Two Leather Vests.

Isaiah Rex vs. Narciso Rex

These are the former members of Jurassic Era, briefly my favorite local tag team, because their gimmick was that they came from Pangaea and weighed 200 metric tons, and the way they visually represented the concept of unfathomably primeval non-human beings is they wore jean shorts and face paint. They’re not really good at wrestling, though, although Isaiah - the face in the feud - is a bit better than Narciso. The highlight of this match was maybe when the Springfield newspaper identified Narciso in print as “Cecil.” There was a ref bump and interference from the Full-Throttle Wrecking Crew, which Isaiah joined after winning the match. This is another weird Blitzkrieg booking quirk: they always stack the deck against the heels, inadvertently making them the underdogs. I don’t know what that says about Enfield. Rating: One Leather Vest.

Skylar vs. Penelope Ford

Skylar (or “Sklya” in the mangled rendering of the Springfield paper) has been wrestling for just a year. She shows promise, but is pretty green. Penelope Ford, Joey Janela’s sidekick, is really good at taking insane bumps but is still learning the rest of the wrestling business. This was a bit awkward and clunky, but the crowd loved Skylar and hated Penelope, and that goes a long way toward making a match enjoyable. Skylar wins via submission. Rating: Two Leather Vests.

Blitzkrieg Pro Bedlam Championship Match: Flex Rumblecrunch (c) vs. Sasha Jenkins vs. Justin “Hammer” Tunis

First of all, I was upset that this match began with Tunis firing his manager, the wonderfully odious heel Joey DeNucci. DeNucci is an insanely good heat magnet at these shows, and without him Tunis is just a guy who claims, erroneously, to look like Jesus. Rethink this, Tunis! Jenkins and Rumblecrunch are both good wrestlers, and Tunis did a fine job of making the crowd hate him, but the match never really felt like it got into gear. Three-way matches are kind of clumsy by definition, unless it’s Super Crazy vs. Tajiri vs. Little Guido or something. This was not that. In a surprise, Jenkins won the title because Rumblecrunch was handcuffed to a turnbuckle. The crowd, solidly pro-Rumblecrunch, was not thrilled with this development. At least the Springfield paper spelled everyone’s name right. Rating: Two Leather Vests.

INTERMISSION

There was a meet and greet with Cody! Roads somewhere in the high school. People had to line up at the door and be escorted to it, just like high school kids going to a presentation on driving safety in the auditorium. On a personal note, I used to work for a newspaper (not the Springfield paper) that covered this town, and I spent about 18 or 19 months commuting to an office here. It was weird to be inside a building where I had once covered budget hearings, for the purpose of watching pro wrestling. Also, one thing I hadn’t noticed before: Enrico Fermi High’s sports teams (the Falcons; they really should have been the Atoms or the Fugitive Physicists or something) were apparently not that great at sports apart from volleyball and golf. Golf! No basketball or football banners in the gym. Enfield High (the Raiders) must have won all of those. Anyway, there’s a planetarium in Fermi High, at least generations of kids had that going for them.

Joey Janela vs. “Cold Steel” Chuck O’Neil 

I was pretty excited for this match, as Joey Janela is one of my favorite wrestlers in the world at this moment. But this was his first trip to Blitzkrieg, and Joey Janela is very much an acquired taste; there are audiences that Just Don’t Get Him. Enfield is one of those audiences, despite his best efforts to insult us (”I hate Connecticut! I hate your families!”). Chuck O’Neil, meanwhile, has done something horrifically shocking to his hair, so that he now looks like a background character in the bar scene in “Star Wars.” Just very distracting; “focus pulling,” as they say in TV news. This was a decent match but got nothing, zero, from the crowd, a good portion of which was still somewhere in the bowels of Enrico Fermi High School, posing for pictures with Cody! Roads. Rating: Three Leather Vests.

Six-Man Scramble: Anthony Greene vs. Scotty Wild vs. Xavier Bell vs. Zachary Pierre Beaulieu vs. Danger Kid vs. Josh Briggs

This is kind of a mini-rumble, where a new guy comes out every minute, with the last man in the ring who hasn’t been pinned, submitted, or thrown over the top rope the winner. It was mostly fun. Greene is a real talent, Scotty Wild is my favorite type of wrestler (athletic fat guy), Zachary Pierre Beaulieu is such a ludicrous caricature of a French person that you can’t help but laugh, and the eventual winner was a giant who I think was introduced as Danger Kid, but it was hard to tell because the ring announcer shouted his name in a way that was almost impossible to make out. I like a good ring-clearing monster. Rating: Three Leather Vests.

Chris Dickinson vs. Missile Assault Man

I was pretty excited for this. I wanted to see the Dirty Daddy demolish some twee Chikara guy, and that is what I got. The crowd liked Dickinson and were perplexed and annoyed at his opponent, who kept yelling “Missile! Assault! Man!” in between moments when Dickinson was kicking the hell out of him. This was fun. Rating: Three and a half Leather Vests.

Eight Man Tag Team Elimination Match: J George, Just Neph, Johnny Torres, and Ryan Malice vs. The 19th Hole (Marshall McNeil, Johnny Idol, Top Shelf Troy Nelson, and Smart Mark Sterling)

The people of Enfield sit on their hands for the brilliance and artistry of Joey Janela, but they pop like Christmas crackers for Marshall McNeil, who, in fairness, ran track at Fermi High in the 1990s. I learned during this match that McNeil graduated from high school three years after I did; I would have guessed he was at least five or six years older than me. Soon the grave, my friends. Anyway, this was a mess. The 19th Hole is an uneasy partnership between faces (McNeil and Idol) and heels (Nelson and Sterling), and their opponents are all guys who have been managed by Joey DeNucci, conspicuous by his absence. WE PAID TO SEE DENUCCI. Or at least I did. The good guys won. Are you kidding? Marshall McNeil is not going to lose in his old high school, home of so many great volleyball and golf triumphs. Rating: Two Leather Vests.

Cody! Roads vs. Donovan Dijak

I wrote about this earlier, but this was a hot damn match. They started off with a bit of comedy, doing competitive cartwheels, but once they settled into the match it was a great story, with Dijak using his superior size and strength to basically beat the piss out of Cody. The crowd was nuts for the whole thing, with lots of Dijak fans, a nice sign of the distance he’s come here since we saw him in December 2015 and were the only ones cheering for him. Cody looked fine, and I assumed he was going to win because that’s how he’s been booked basically everywhere since leaving the WWE, and in fact I was writing in my head the complaint I would make here about the Internet wrestling smarks being snookered into believing he’s the second coming of Bruiser Brody, but then Dijak won. Dijak won! I was so happy. I cheered and pumped my fists. The finish totally sucked the air out of the crowd, BUT I DID NOT CARE. I had a lot of fun. As we left, they announced their April 29 show featuring .... Shane Douglas. Oh boy. Rating: Four Leather Vests. 

[blackswaneuroparedux]

I don’t know, I’m making this up as I go.

Dr Henry Walton Jones Jr (aka Indiana Jones)

Raiders of the Lost Ark is considered an inspiration for so many action films yet there’s a very odd aspect to the film that’s rather unique and rarely noticed by its critics and fans. It’s an element that, once spotted, is difficult to forget, and is perhaps inspiring for times like the one in which we currently live, when there are so many challenges to get through.

Typically in action films, the hero faces an array of obstacles and setbacks, but largely solves one problem after another, completes one quest after another, defeats one villain after another, and enjoys one victory after another.

The structure of Raiders is different. A quick reminder:

In the opening sequence, Indy (Harrison Ford) obtains the temple idol only to lose it to his rival René Belloq (Paul Freeman).

In the streets of Cairo, Indy fails to protect his love, Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), from being captured (killed, he assumes).

In the desert, he finds the long-lost Ark of the Covenant, only to have it taken away by Belloq.

Indy then recovers the ark only to have it stolen a second time by Belloq, this time at sea.

On an island, Indy tries to bluff Belloq into thinking he’ll blow up the ark. His bluff fails. Indy is captured.

The climax of the film literally has its hero tied to a post the entire time. He’s completely ineffectual and helpless at a point in the movie where every other action hero is having their greatest moment of struggle and, typically, triumph.

If Indiana Jones had done absolutely nothing, if the famed archeologist had simply stayed home, the Nazis would have met the same fate — losing their lives to ark’s wrath. It’s pretty rare in action films for the evil arch-villains to have the same outcome as if the hero had done nothing at all.

Indy does succeed in getting the ark back to America, of course, which is crucial. But then Indy loses the ark, once again, when government agents send it to a warehouse and refuse to let him study the object he chased the whole film.

In other words: Indiana Jones spends Raiders failing, getting beat up, and losing every artifact that he risks his life to acquire.

And yet, Indiana Jones is considered a great hero.

The reason Indiana Jones is a hero isn’t because he wins. It’s because he never stops trying.