During the past week and a half, I haven't blogged, but it's not because there aren't things to blog about. Here are four blog posts from the past ten days that I will never have the time to make.
1. I, Hunchback
I finally went to see Frank Miller's war-porn epic "300." OI want to make a case that the author's surrogate in the film is Ephialtes. The deformed hunchback, whose own parents are ashamed of him, craves the acceptance of the handsome, masculine, heterosexual soldiers: when he doesn't get it, he betrays them for cheap thrills with prostitutes, some of whom appear to have penises to go along with their breasts. Later, during the big battle, the warrior guy who rejected offers him some form of forgiveness.
Can you say "issues"? Sometimes, I wonder if writers can create great art without blind spots to their own giant issues.
2. Caribbean Threequel
Saw Pirates of the Caribbean 3 with the kids and was pleasantly surprised. We had prepared for it by watching the dvds of 1 and 2 the two days before. After the campiness and set-piece excess of 2, the third movie had more story in it than I expected -- too much, to be honest -- and not enough time to explore everything that should have been done. (You have two giant navies and all those colorful pirates and you don't have the big battle between them? What the heck.) But some of the small things were done well. I liked how the running gag of the ill-fitting fake eye was turned into a plot point for example. It was hours well spent with my kids, especially given the amount of conversation it continues to give us about what makes for interesting characters and good stories.
This movie also reinforced my conviction that Hollywood is run by men obsessed with absent fathers. Jack's only real character revelation moment comes when he meets his father, Will's character arc is defined by his relationship with his father, and Elizabeth's arc by losing hers. All of them have lost mothers -- Jack's loss is played for a gag -- but none of it matters to the story, because, apparently, we can take mothers for granted.
3. On not attending Wiscon...
...and how raecarson came back thinking that Chris Barzak is hotter than I am.
We won't even talk about what she thinks about his dancing compared to mine. But imagine me emitting a heavy sigh.
4. I am a Mutant
Anyone who's ever looked at my hands will have noticed the curved pinky fingers. They bend inward in a way that makes them useful for cleaning my freakishly deep navel when I indulge in navel-gazing. In researching something for a story, I discovered that this is a condition called clinodactyly, which appears in something like 26 different syndromes of varying severity as a result of genetic mutation causing one of the finger bones to be wedge-shaped instead of rectangular. It can also appear in isolation, without the other syndromes, but, because the main side effect appears to be a certain awkwardness in typing, it hasn't been extensively studied. Since my mother's pinkies are similarly curved, I suspect it's a trait that is often passed on.
Why couldn't I get a cool teleporting power instead? It would be worth living with the blue fur and the tail if I could bampf.
Okay, enough non-blogging for now. I'm headed back to the pixel mines. Wish me luck.