The people responsible for Priest managed to adapt a brutally violent, humorless, blasphemous comic into an equally humorless movie, while severely watering down the violence and blasphemy and discarding everything that made the comic unique and interesting. The comic is about a priest named Ivan Isaacs who sells his soul to one demon in exchange for the power to fight a bunch of other demons. It takes place in the Old West, and has a wonderfully angular visual style that suits its rough and brutal content. The movie, on the other hand, takes place in a barren, mind-numbingly boring post-apocalyptic landscape (the only locations that aren't salt flats or dank caves are pirated wholesale from Final Fantasy VII and Trigun) and the titular priest is a nameless ninja who fights vampires that look exactly like the Doom 3 monster. That's it.
The characters have all the gravitas of a five-year-old's paper doll collection, and the dialogue is at a similar level: unbelievably predictable, but also lacking any potentially redeeming shreds of self-awareness. The writers' dogged commitment to one-liners that were already cliched thirty years ago might be commendable if it weren't so pathetic. It's just growl this, grimace that, "It's not over; it's only just beginning," and OH GOD SOMEONE STOP ME BEFORE I GOUGE MY OWN EYES OUT. Seriously, the closest thing to a joke in the whole movie was Bill Compton getting attacked by vampires in the first five minutes. The irony might have been worth something if the rest of the movie wasn't such utter crap.
Oh, and if you've spent all of history fighting against actual vampires, maybe it would be a good idea for your capital city to not be shrouded in unexplained eternal darkness. Just a thought.
Christ. I mean, I knew that Priest was never going to be any good, but I really wasn't expecting it to be this bad. It's been a week since I saw it and I still hardly even know what to say about it. In fact, you know how people sometimes tell you, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all"?
This is one of those times. Avoid Priest like the plague.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Adventures in Music Sales: The Finale
Yesterday was my last day at the music store, and I have to say that it's a rather wonderful feeling to be done. It certainly wasn't a bad job--it paid well enough and the schedule was flexible enough to accommodate my musical whoring around town--but I had grown tired of it for the simple reason that even the best possible retail job is still a retail job, and there's some inherent shittiness that comes along with that.
Namely, you have to deal with people, and everyone knows people are jackasses.
Case in point:
After clocking out yesterday and saying my goodbyes, I left through the back door and was immediately stopped by a woman in the small street behind the store. She appeared to be in her mid-to-late twenties, and (as far as I could tell) didn't seem to be drunk or high.
"What's in that building?" she asked.
"You mean this one?" I replied.
"Yeah," she said. "I walk by here all the time and I've always wondered what it is."
"It's a music store." I had thought the large blue "DALE MUSIC" sign over the back door was pretty self-explanatory, but apparently not.
"Oh." She seemed to be genuinely confused. "You mean it's not a bar or anything?"
"No, it's a music store. We sell music."
"Oh."
And with that, she kept walking.
While I'm sure I'll miss the place, my fellow employees, and even a few of our better customers, I suppose this was a fitting way to end my employment: dealing with morons, as usual.
Namely, you have to deal with people, and everyone knows people are jackasses.
Case in point:
After clocking out yesterday and saying my goodbyes, I left through the back door and was immediately stopped by a woman in the small street behind the store. She appeared to be in her mid-to-late twenties, and (as far as I could tell) didn't seem to be drunk or high.
"What's in that building?" she asked.
"You mean this one?" I replied.
"Yeah," she said. "I walk by here all the time and I've always wondered what it is."
"It's a music store." I had thought the large blue "DALE MUSIC" sign over the back door was pretty self-explanatory, but apparently not.
"Oh." She seemed to be genuinely confused. "You mean it's not a bar or anything?"
"No, it's a music store. We sell music."
"Oh."
And with that, she kept walking.
While I'm sure I'll miss the place, my fellow employees, and even a few of our better customers, I suppose this was a fitting way to end my employment: dealing with morons, as usual.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Cinema Snark: Thor
I love me some Norse mythology. It's full of sex, violence, trickery, cross-dressing, and horrifying (nearly) eternal torture involving snake venom and entrail-bondage. Oh, and everyone dies at the end. In terms of world mythology, it's roughly equivalent to Dr. Strangelove: wacky antics, more wacky antics, and oh hey it's doomsday.
The Marvel version of Asgard, however, places the characters in a more standard setting for superheroics, while still attempting to retain as many characters, locations, and artifacts from the original mythology as possible. As such, while Marvel's Asgard bears some striking similarities to the old legends, it has developed its own unique identity in modern popular culture. This is why it's completely asinine when white supremacist groups and neopagans get offended by the portrayal of the Norse pantheon: Marvel Asgard is not Norse Asgard. It's as simple as that. These characters were created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, who (in several cases, quite loosely) based them on mythological figures.
So yes, Heimdall is black. Who gives a shit? More specifically, Heimdall is Idris motherfucking Elba, and he's one of the best parts of the movie because he's an awesome actor. Hell, one of the Warriors Three is Asian, but nobody cares because A) the Warriors Three aren't based on anyone in Norse mythology, B) the Warriors Three are awesome, and C) Hogun the Grim is stern enough to be a samurai anyway. If you want to gripe about differences from the original tales, you could also whine that Sif is a warrior maiden with dark hair instead of being "correctly portrayed" as Thor's hot blonde wife who doesn't do anything except sit around and get kidnapped by frost giants because she's so fine, she's so fine she blows their minds HEY SIF (clap clap).
And hell, I'm sure that some Marvel fans were annoyed that love interest Jane Foster was changed from a hot nurse to a hot astrophysicist, because if there's one group of people that's easier to piss off than pagans and white supremacists, it's fanboys, the bottom-feeding bastards. You know, the kind of people who pollute internet message boards with their rabid opinions on how the newest superhero movie is going to be the WORST THING EVER because the filmmakers ignored some minor character that appeared once on the variant cover of Tales of the Fantastic #347. Give me a fucking break. A movie can be bad for any number of reasons, but if it has a fun/interesting plot, good dialogue, and likeable characters, then chances are that most people won't give a shit about petty details like that. As a further note, I'd like to point out that most fanboys aren't even happy with the source material itself, griping endlessly about Grant Morrison's characterization of Batman even as they're shelling out fifty bucks to get the newest issues of every comic that features Batman (or any member of the Bat-family) in any way.
Sweet zombie Jesus, GET A DAMN LIFE. Or, if you'd rather be unhappy all the time, try repeatedly bashing yourself in the face with a rock. It's a whole lot cheaper than comic books, and you'll have no one to criticize but yourself--with the possible exception of God, because he made the WORST ROCKS EVER. ("I don't see what the big deal is. I could totally make better rocks than that if I cared, but I don't care so I won't. Whatever. Pass me another hunk of granite; I'm getting some feeling back in my right eye socket.")
What was I talking about again?
Oh, right. The movie.
To put it bluntly, Thor is awesome. It has a great balance of action, humor, and emotion, and it plays out against several striking backdrops: the grand, bombastic Asgard, the dark, foreboding Jotunheim, and the expansive New Mexico desert. This varied scenery makes the film incredibly visually striking, more so than any other comic book movie I can think of (though Green Lantern will probably attempt to do something similar with its interstellar setting). New Mexico is a welcome departure from the standard "superhero + big city = millions in property damage" formula which most comic book movies seem to follow, and I'm sure Lady Liberty and the New York skyline are grateful for the brief respite from the never-ending cycle of cinematic destruction. (Seriously, New York can never catch a break.)
The cast is fantastic and surprisingly star-studded. Besides Natalie Portman and Anthony Hopkins, there are a number of smaller roles with big names attached: Idris Elba, as previously mentioned, commands the audience's attention every second he's onscreen. Seriously, that man has gravitas coming out the ass. Other familiar faces include Rene Russo as Frigga, Stellan Skarsgard as Jane Foster's mentor, and (to my great amusement) Ray "the Punisher" Stevenson as Volstagg the Voluminous. When I saw his name in the credits, I thought, "Oh, he must have been one of the frost giants because he's a big stony-faced badass." Nope. He was the one with the giant appetite and the great big bushy beard, and I loved every minute of it.
Sif and the Warriors Three were all great--they each had distinctive personalities but functioned well as a unit. Clark Gregg's recurring SHIELD Agent Phil Coulson was given more to do than usual, and I liked him more here than I did in Iron Man 1 or 2. Kat Dennings provided some great comic relief as Natalie Portman's assistant, and worked well as a foil to Skarsgard's more serious personality.
I hadn't heard of Chris Hemsworth before this, but he plays the title role perfectly. Even as a cocky, headstrong semi-jerk, his Thor has an undeniable charm, making it easy to see why Sif and the Warriors Three are so fiercely loyal to him. His chemistry with Natalie Portman is really fun to watch, what with his Asgardian bravado and her blushing, fangirlish awkwardness. It's clear that Thor is someone who's always genuine, whether in friendship or in anger--it's not that he's stupid as such (though he really is at times); it's just that he doesn't seem to have the capacity to be duplicitous.
Loki, on the other hand, is duplicitous to a fault--but he's arguably the most emotionally compelling character in the movie, and he reminds me a lot of Edmund from King Lear. (And apparently Tom Hiddleston has said the exact same thing.) Both are passed over as heirs in favor of their legitimate brothers (though Loki doesn't find out the secret of his parentage until after Thor is banished to Earth), and the two share a taste for deception and manipulation. Tom Hiddleston plays Loki as a complex character, someone who hides behind trickery to mask his resentment toward his father and brother. His confrontation with Odin is easily the best scene in the movie, and although you're never really sure how much of what Loki says is true, it's pretty clear that he really means it when he screams at his brother, "I only wanted to be your equal!"
Kenneth Branagh may seem like an odd choice to direct a comic book movie, but he's a perfect fit for this. While some other superhero films are tending toward darker and grittier subject matter, Branagh really gives Thor a mythological, larger-than-life feel (especially for the scenes in Asgard). Some of the CGI is less than perfect, but it hardly matters--I'll take solid characters and dialogue over James-Cameron-level visual masturbation any day of the week. Branagh makes the most of the pageantry and the Shakespearean undertones of the story, while still showing that he knows how to give us some pretty awesome fights.
Oh, and Jeremy Renner shows up as Hawkeye. He's snarktastic and I love it.
All I can say is, Thor is a great movie--and beyond that, it gives me serious hope that The Avengers will be everything I want it to be and more. Long story short, I'd go see it again (and in the theater, no less), if only to hear Thor say "I would have words with my brother" one more time.
It's totally worth it.
The Marvel version of Asgard, however, places the characters in a more standard setting for superheroics, while still attempting to retain as many characters, locations, and artifacts from the original mythology as possible. As such, while Marvel's Asgard bears some striking similarities to the old legends, it has developed its own unique identity in modern popular culture. This is why it's completely asinine when white supremacist groups and neopagans get offended by the portrayal of the Norse pantheon: Marvel Asgard is not Norse Asgard. It's as simple as that. These characters were created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, who (in several cases, quite loosely) based them on mythological figures.
So yes, Heimdall is black. Who gives a shit? More specifically, Heimdall is Idris motherfucking Elba, and he's one of the best parts of the movie because he's an awesome actor. Hell, one of the Warriors Three is Asian, but nobody cares because A) the Warriors Three aren't based on anyone in Norse mythology, B) the Warriors Three are awesome, and C) Hogun the Grim is stern enough to be a samurai anyway. If you want to gripe about differences from the original tales, you could also whine that Sif is a warrior maiden with dark hair instead of being "correctly portrayed" as Thor's hot blonde wife who doesn't do anything except sit around and get kidnapped by frost giants because she's so fine, she's so fine she blows their minds HEY SIF (clap clap).
And hell, I'm sure that some Marvel fans were annoyed that love interest Jane Foster was changed from a hot nurse to a hot astrophysicist, because if there's one group of people that's easier to piss off than pagans and white supremacists, it's fanboys, the bottom-feeding bastards. You know, the kind of people who pollute internet message boards with their rabid opinions on how the newest superhero movie is going to be the WORST THING EVER because the filmmakers ignored some minor character that appeared once on the variant cover of Tales of the Fantastic #347. Give me a fucking break. A movie can be bad for any number of reasons, but if it has a fun/interesting plot, good dialogue, and likeable characters, then chances are that most people won't give a shit about petty details like that. As a further note, I'd like to point out that most fanboys aren't even happy with the source material itself, griping endlessly about Grant Morrison's characterization of Batman even as they're shelling out fifty bucks to get the newest issues of every comic that features Batman (or any member of the Bat-family) in any way.
Sweet zombie Jesus, GET A DAMN LIFE. Or, if you'd rather be unhappy all the time, try repeatedly bashing yourself in the face with a rock. It's a whole lot cheaper than comic books, and you'll have no one to criticize but yourself--with the possible exception of God, because he made the WORST ROCKS EVER. ("I don't see what the big deal is. I could totally make better rocks than that if I cared, but I don't care so I won't. Whatever. Pass me another hunk of granite; I'm getting some feeling back in my right eye socket.")
What was I talking about again?
Oh, right. The movie.
To put it bluntly, Thor is awesome. It has a great balance of action, humor, and emotion, and it plays out against several striking backdrops: the grand, bombastic Asgard, the dark, foreboding Jotunheim, and the expansive New Mexico desert. This varied scenery makes the film incredibly visually striking, more so than any other comic book movie I can think of (though Green Lantern will probably attempt to do something similar with its interstellar setting). New Mexico is a welcome departure from the standard "superhero + big city = millions in property damage" formula which most comic book movies seem to follow, and I'm sure Lady Liberty and the New York skyline are grateful for the brief respite from the never-ending cycle of cinematic destruction. (Seriously, New York can never catch a break.)
The cast is fantastic and surprisingly star-studded. Besides Natalie Portman and Anthony Hopkins, there are a number of smaller roles with big names attached: Idris Elba, as previously mentioned, commands the audience's attention every second he's onscreen. Seriously, that man has gravitas coming out the ass. Other familiar faces include Rene Russo as Frigga, Stellan Skarsgard as Jane Foster's mentor, and (to my great amusement) Ray "the Punisher" Stevenson as Volstagg the Voluminous. When I saw his name in the credits, I thought, "Oh, he must have been one of the frost giants because he's a big stony-faced badass." Nope. He was the one with the giant appetite and the great big bushy beard, and I loved every minute of it.
Sif and the Warriors Three were all great--they each had distinctive personalities but functioned well as a unit. Clark Gregg's recurring SHIELD Agent Phil Coulson was given more to do than usual, and I liked him more here than I did in Iron Man 1 or 2. Kat Dennings provided some great comic relief as Natalie Portman's assistant, and worked well as a foil to Skarsgard's more serious personality.
I hadn't heard of Chris Hemsworth before this, but he plays the title role perfectly. Even as a cocky, headstrong semi-jerk, his Thor has an undeniable charm, making it easy to see why Sif and the Warriors Three are so fiercely loyal to him. His chemistry with Natalie Portman is really fun to watch, what with his Asgardian bravado and her blushing, fangirlish awkwardness. It's clear that Thor is someone who's always genuine, whether in friendship or in anger--it's not that he's stupid as such (though he really is at times); it's just that he doesn't seem to have the capacity to be duplicitous.
Loki, on the other hand, is duplicitous to a fault--but he's arguably the most emotionally compelling character in the movie, and he reminds me a lot of Edmund from King Lear. (And apparently Tom Hiddleston has said the exact same thing.) Both are passed over as heirs in favor of their legitimate brothers (though Loki doesn't find out the secret of his parentage until after Thor is banished to Earth), and the two share a taste for deception and manipulation. Tom Hiddleston plays Loki as a complex character, someone who hides behind trickery to mask his resentment toward his father and brother. His confrontation with Odin is easily the best scene in the movie, and although you're never really sure how much of what Loki says is true, it's pretty clear that he really means it when he screams at his brother, "I only wanted to be your equal!"
Kenneth Branagh may seem like an odd choice to direct a comic book movie, but he's a perfect fit for this. While some other superhero films are tending toward darker and grittier subject matter, Branagh really gives Thor a mythological, larger-than-life feel (especially for the scenes in Asgard). Some of the CGI is less than perfect, but it hardly matters--I'll take solid characters and dialogue over James-Cameron-level visual masturbation any day of the week. Branagh makes the most of the pageantry and the Shakespearean undertones of the story, while still showing that he knows how to give us some pretty awesome fights.
Oh, and Jeremy Renner shows up as Hawkeye. He's snarktastic and I love it.
All I can say is, Thor is a great movie--and beyond that, it gives me serious hope that The Avengers will be everything I want it to be and more. Long story short, I'd go see it again (and in the theater, no less), if only to hear Thor say "I would have words with my brother" one more time.
It's totally worth it.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Journalism Fail
Soooooo I haven't seen Thor yet, but I've been gearing up for it by watching the entire first season of The Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes (not to be confused with the late '90s Avengers series, which isn't nearly as good). It's way more fun than a Marvel cartoon has any right to be, with plenty of snarky humor, great action, and surprisingly intricate plots--and it doesn't take itself as seriously as the old X-Men and Spider-man cartoons did. Much as I hate to express this much enthusiasm about any show that airs on a Disney channel, I can't wait for the second season. It's so good.
On the other hand, I can't hear the battle-cry "Avengers, assemble!" without picturing Thor and Iron Man struggling to put together some needlessly complex IKEA furniture while Hawkeye stands off to the side and mocks them. So there's that.
In any case: I've been rather excited about Thor, so I've been keeping up with the latest bits of information on ComicsAlliance and other such websites. My nerd rage was awakened, however, when I opened up Friday's issue of Express (a free paper for DC metro riders) and found this little gem, which really should have been subtitled "Why You Shouldn't Write About Comic Books if You've Never Actually Read Any."
The problem starts with the title. What the hell do you mean, "Thor [is] Actually a Heavyweight Compared to Some Heroes"? This isn't some jackass in a cape who picked up a hammer one day and decided to call himself Thor--this is the actual Asgardian god of thunder. He's an immortal flying brick with a magic indestructible hammer that controls lightning (REAL LIGHTNING!). He's gone toe-to-toe with some of the strongest beings in the Marvel Universe, including the freaking Hulk--who, as everyone should know, is the STRONGEST ONE THERE IS. You're damn right he's a heavyweight.
But it appears that the writer isn't taking issue with Thor's abilities as much as his apparent obscurity. She asserts that "Thor isn't a superhero many mainstream fans can identify — he's no Spider-Man," which makes me wonder if her definition of a "mainstream fan" is someone who's functionally retarded or who only reads Archie Comics. (That was redundant, wasn't it.) She goes on to say that Thor "isn't alone in the minor leagues of capery."
Okay, wow.
Thor (who first appeared in 1962) was a founding member of the Avengers and has had three self-titled series from 1966 to 2011 (the between-series breaks being from 1996-1998 and 2004-2007). Beyond that, he's appeared in numerous one-shots and limited-run series--not to mention all his appearances in other titles and Marvel Universepublicity stunts crossover events. In other words, Thor has consistently been a major player at Marvel for nearly fifty years. Even if someone hasn't read any Thor comics, chances are they'd at least recognize him. He's pretty fucking distinctive.
She then goes on to list three other obscure superheroes for no apparent reason and describes them with varying degrees of success. She cites the X-Man "Dust", real name Sooraya Qadir, as being "possibly the only Muslim superhero working today," evidently blissfully unaware of the Nightrunner controversy from this past December. But the most blatant inaccuracy is this:
"Another hero is The Atom, who can ... get really small. But that's not all! He can also get really big! His alter ego is Henry Pym, a genius with a Ph.D in biochemistry. He also has a helmet that lets him talk to bugs."
The Atom is a DC Comics superhero by the name of Ray Palmer. He can shrink. Henry "Hank" Pym is a Marvel Comics superhero (and another founding member of the Avengers) known as Ant Man/Giant Man/Goliath/Yellowjacket/Wasp. He can shrink, grow to giant size, and talk to insects. They have similar powers, but they're two completely different characters in completely different universes, and even the most cursory Wikipedia search shows how incredibly factually inaccurate the above statement is. It's like saying that Dumbledore is a wizard from Middle Earth who helped destroy the One Ring. I mean, you can see how I'd mix those two up, right? Dumbledore and Gandalf are both wizards with long white beards, so they must be interchangeable!
What's even worse is that she goes on to explain some pretty specific uses of the Atom's powers, like traveling through phone lines or entering Superman's bloodstream, even providing an issue title and number for the latter event. How the hell would you find that out but still manage to fuck up something as basic as an alter ego?
Gahhhh.
Now, I'm not a complete moron. While I do take comic books (and fiction in general) much more seriously than the average person, I know that this isn't exactly a catastrophe. There's war and poverty and global warming and the impending hordes of zombified Mayan warriors that will wipe out all life on earth next year (that's what this whole 2012 thing is about, right?)--so some factual inaccuracy in a minor article in a free newspaper doesn't mean a damn thing in the grand scheme of things.
Nevertheless, it pisses me off. It's just plain lazy journalism (and I use "journalism" extremely loosely here). If you run a newspaper and want to have someone write about comics, maybe you should assign the article to someone who actually reads comics. If you don't have someone who does, give the story to someone who actually knows how to do any research at all ever. If you don't have that, maybe you should just come up with a different idea. Or hire a competent staff.
In conclusion: As a free-thinking human, you're entitled to your opinions. If you think comics are stupid and pointless, that's well within your rights--but if you don't consider them to be worth the time it takes to do the required research, then don't fucking write about them. It's pretty simple.
On the other hand, I can't hear the battle-cry "Avengers, assemble!" without picturing Thor and Iron Man struggling to put together some needlessly complex IKEA furniture while Hawkeye stands off to the side and mocks them. So there's that.
In any case: I've been rather excited about Thor, so I've been keeping up with the latest bits of information on ComicsAlliance and other such websites. My nerd rage was awakened, however, when I opened up Friday's issue of Express (a free paper for DC metro riders) and found this little gem, which really should have been subtitled "Why You Shouldn't Write About Comic Books if You've Never Actually Read Any."
The problem starts with the title. What the hell do you mean, "Thor [is] Actually a Heavyweight Compared to Some Heroes"? This isn't some jackass in a cape who picked up a hammer one day and decided to call himself Thor--this is the actual Asgardian god of thunder. He's an immortal flying brick with a magic indestructible hammer that controls lightning (REAL LIGHTNING!). He's gone toe-to-toe with some of the strongest beings in the Marvel Universe, including the freaking Hulk--who, as everyone should know, is the STRONGEST ONE THERE IS. You're damn right he's a heavyweight.
But it appears that the writer isn't taking issue with Thor's abilities as much as his apparent obscurity. She asserts that "Thor isn't a superhero many mainstream fans can identify — he's no Spider-Man," which makes me wonder if her definition of a "mainstream fan" is someone who's functionally retarded or who only reads Archie Comics. (That was redundant, wasn't it.) She goes on to say that Thor "isn't alone in the minor leagues of capery."
Okay, wow.
Thor (who first appeared in 1962) was a founding member of the Avengers and has had three self-titled series from 1966 to 2011 (the between-series breaks being from 1996-1998 and 2004-2007). Beyond that, he's appeared in numerous one-shots and limited-run series--not to mention all his appearances in other titles and Marvel Universe
She then goes on to list three other obscure superheroes for no apparent reason and describes them with varying degrees of success. She cites the X-Man "Dust", real name Sooraya Qadir, as being "possibly the only Muslim superhero working today," evidently blissfully unaware of the Nightrunner controversy from this past December. But the most blatant inaccuracy is this:
"Another hero is The Atom, who can ... get really small. But that's not all! He can also get really big! His alter ego is Henry Pym, a genius with a Ph.D in biochemistry. He also has a helmet that lets him talk to bugs."
The Atom is a DC Comics superhero by the name of Ray Palmer. He can shrink. Henry "Hank" Pym is a Marvel Comics superhero (and another founding member of the Avengers) known as Ant Man/Giant Man/Goliath/Yellowjacket/Wasp. He can shrink, grow to giant size, and talk to insects. They have similar powers, but they're two completely different characters in completely different universes, and even the most cursory Wikipedia search shows how incredibly factually inaccurate the above statement is. It's like saying that Dumbledore is a wizard from Middle Earth who helped destroy the One Ring. I mean, you can see how I'd mix those two up, right? Dumbledore and Gandalf are both wizards with long white beards, so they must be interchangeable!
What's even worse is that she goes on to explain some pretty specific uses of the Atom's powers, like traveling through phone lines or entering Superman's bloodstream, even providing an issue title and number for the latter event. How the hell would you find that out but still manage to fuck up something as basic as an alter ego?
Gahhhh.
Now, I'm not a complete moron. While I do take comic books (and fiction in general) much more seriously than the average person, I know that this isn't exactly a catastrophe. There's war and poverty and global warming and the impending hordes of zombified Mayan warriors that will wipe out all life on earth next year (that's what this whole 2012 thing is about, right?)--so some factual inaccuracy in a minor article in a free newspaper doesn't mean a damn thing in the grand scheme of things.
Nevertheless, it pisses me off. It's just plain lazy journalism (and I use "journalism" extremely loosely here). If you run a newspaper and want to have someone write about comics, maybe you should assign the article to someone who actually reads comics. If you don't have someone who does, give the story to someone who actually knows how to do any research at all ever. If you don't have that, maybe you should just come up with a different idea. Or hire a competent staff.
In conclusion: As a free-thinking human, you're entitled to your opinions. If you think comics are stupid and pointless, that's well within your rights--but if you don't consider them to be worth the time it takes to do the required research, then don't fucking write about them. It's pretty simple.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
On Alternate Interpretations
My temperament is a strange thing. Several years ago, I reached a point in my development where I realized that I could simply shrug off things that might leave other people raging, weeping, or wallowing in the depths of despair. I'm very good at compartmentalizing my emotions and (as previously discussed) looking at situations from multiple points of view, which makes me uniquely equipped to deal with (read: survive) large-scale, emotionally stressful events. The trade-off, however, is that I get inordinately furious at tiny things that most rational people would just ignore.
Most of the time, this ire is directed at technology. As my roommates will attest, sometimes this involves me releasing long streams of high-volume profanity at God of War when the kill sequence on a momentarily stunned cyclops won't fucking start even though I'm pressing the O button and standing right the hell in front of it and then it recovers and grabs me and throws me across the screen and I'm back at fucking square one. As you can probably imagine, rage abounds. Another common object of my wrath is my work computer, which will function perfectly well until I actually have to look up information for a customer or (God forbid) ring up a sale. Of course, I can't curse at work (while anyone's listening), so instead I construct elaborate revenge fantasies in my head in which I brutally murder everything the computer has ever loved with its cold, mechanical heart before finally putting the pitifully obsolete old bastard out of its misery. All I can say is this: God help the machines if they ever rise against their human masters, because I've got some pent-up frustration I've just been dying to release.
Do you hear me, you smug, sentient, silicon bastards? I am the face of your doom.
To be fair, however, technology is far from the only thing that makes me want to commit acts of violence. Sometimes my wrath is stirred up by something as simple as getting a song stuck in my head. Such was the case a couple days ago.
Now, I don't hate Sarah Bareilles. I actually have much more respect for her than I do for most other pop stars, if only because she writes and performs her own songs. That takes talent and creativity (two things which are sorely lacking in most mainstream music), and she should be applauded.
For the most part.
See, while I have nothing against her specifically, I do have a vendetta against "King of Anything", a song from her 2010 album. The reasons for my virulent antipathy are pretty simple: it came out around the time I was working at Regal Cinemas, and it was the most prominent member of the five-or-six-song mix that played between shows in every theater. I heard this song (or at least a part of it) almost every time I cleaned up after a movie, probably at least twenty times a shift. Hearing it now practically gives me post-traumatic stress flashbacks: I can smell the stale popcorn, the spilled soda, and even the vomit. My God, the vomit.
As the song became more popular, however, I was given even more reason to dislike it. Its lyrics were plastered across a number of Facebook profiles, seemingly as a way of giving a big "fuck you" to everyone carrying a Y chromosome because men are jerks and girl power and all that shit. My problem with "King of Anything" is also the reason that so many people loved to quote it--it's so one-sided and vague that it could apply to practically any fight or disagreement, no matter how small. Our dear Sara is complaining about her man (let's call him "Brad" for now, because why the hell not?) and how he tells her what to do, but we really have no idea what's going on in the situation aside from her huffy reaction. There are a number of possibilities here, all with the same ending:
Brad: Hey, babe, I've been thinking that you should lose some weight. And maybe get a nose job.
Sara: OMG WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING
[Justified! He's a douche.]
Brad: Hey, babe, I think that instead of going to the library we should go to the movies.
Sara: OMG WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING
[Overreaction. It's not that big a deal.]
Brad: Hey, babe, you should probably learn the difference between "you're" and "your" if you actually want to be a journalist.
Sara: OMG WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING
[She's a moron and she needs to learn how to take constructive criticism.]
Brad: Honey, I've been really worried about you. I think you shouldn't drink so much, especially with the baby on the way.
Sara: OMG WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING
[Aaaaand you get the idea.]
We're just supposed to take her word for it that this guy is awful and he's oppressing her, but we're never really offered any evidence. Hell, for all we know, she's a spoiled princess who's used to getting her way in everything and the problem isn't even that big--the song could well be the female equivalent of a guy complaining about how his girlfriend is a bitch because she wants to cuddle after sex instead of letting him go home and play Call of Duty: Black Ops. Or because she ate all of his bacon. It's all about perspective, really, and the song gives us none.
To be fair, though, my problem is more with the listeners than the song itself. No one is above criticism, and taking a "Who cares if you disagree / You are not me / Who made you King of Anything" approach to life is pretty much a short-cut to being that one person that everyone hates because you always have to get your way. And sure: sometimes you do have to assert yourself and say "I am an independent human being and you have no right to try and control my life"--but you should probably say it in person (i.e., not on Facebook) if you don't want to look petty.
Finally, I realize that much of your opinion on the song (and my slandering thereof) is probably determined by what set of genitalia you have--so I'd just like to take this opportunity to point out that gender does not determine character. There are many assholes in the world, and their flagrant assholism will often manifest itself in ways which align with gender stereotypes, but that doesn't make all men or all women evil.
Some people are just assholes.
Most of the time, this ire is directed at technology. As my roommates will attest, sometimes this involves me releasing long streams of high-volume profanity at God of War when the kill sequence on a momentarily stunned cyclops won't fucking start even though I'm pressing the O button and standing right the hell in front of it and then it recovers and grabs me and throws me across the screen and I'm back at fucking square one. As you can probably imagine, rage abounds. Another common object of my wrath is my work computer, which will function perfectly well until I actually have to look up information for a customer or (God forbid) ring up a sale. Of course, I can't curse at work (while anyone's listening), so instead I construct elaborate revenge fantasies in my head in which I brutally murder everything the computer has ever loved with its cold, mechanical heart before finally putting the pitifully obsolete old bastard out of its misery. All I can say is this: God help the machines if they ever rise against their human masters, because I've got some pent-up frustration I've just been dying to release.
Do you hear me, you smug, sentient, silicon bastards? I am the face of your doom.
To be fair, however, technology is far from the only thing that makes me want to commit acts of violence. Sometimes my wrath is stirred up by something as simple as getting a song stuck in my head. Such was the case a couple days ago.
Now, I don't hate Sarah Bareilles. I actually have much more respect for her than I do for most other pop stars, if only because she writes and performs her own songs. That takes talent and creativity (two things which are sorely lacking in most mainstream music), and she should be applauded.
For the most part.
See, while I have nothing against her specifically, I do have a vendetta against "King of Anything", a song from her 2010 album. The reasons for my virulent antipathy are pretty simple: it came out around the time I was working at Regal Cinemas, and it was the most prominent member of the five-or-six-song mix that played between shows in every theater. I heard this song (or at least a part of it) almost every time I cleaned up after a movie, probably at least twenty times a shift. Hearing it now practically gives me post-traumatic stress flashbacks: I can smell the stale popcorn, the spilled soda, and even the vomit. My God, the vomit.
As the song became more popular, however, I was given even more reason to dislike it. Its lyrics were plastered across a number of Facebook profiles, seemingly as a way of giving a big "fuck you" to everyone carrying a Y chromosome because men are jerks and girl power and all that shit. My problem with "King of Anything" is also the reason that so many people loved to quote it--it's so one-sided and vague that it could apply to practically any fight or disagreement, no matter how small. Our dear Sara is complaining about her man (let's call him "Brad" for now, because why the hell not?) and how he tells her what to do, but we really have no idea what's going on in the situation aside from her huffy reaction. There are a number of possibilities here, all with the same ending:
Brad: Hey, babe, I've been thinking that you should lose some weight. And maybe get a nose job.
Sara: OMG WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING
[Justified! He's a douche.]
Brad: Hey, babe, I think that instead of going to the library we should go to the movies.
Sara: OMG WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING
[Overreaction. It's not that big a deal.]
Brad: Hey, babe, you should probably learn the difference between "you're" and "your" if you actually want to be a journalist.
Sara: OMG WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING
[She's a moron and she needs to learn how to take constructive criticism.]
Brad: Honey, I've been really worried about you. I think you shouldn't drink so much, especially with the baby on the way.
Sara: OMG WHO DIED AND MADE YOU KING OF ANYTHING
[Aaaaand you get the idea.]
We're just supposed to take her word for it that this guy is awful and he's oppressing her, but we're never really offered any evidence. Hell, for all we know, she's a spoiled princess who's used to getting her way in everything and the problem isn't even that big--the song could well be the female equivalent of a guy complaining about how his girlfriend is a bitch because she wants to cuddle after sex instead of letting him go home and play Call of Duty: Black Ops. Or because she ate all of his bacon. It's all about perspective, really, and the song gives us none.
To be fair, though, my problem is more with the listeners than the song itself. No one is above criticism, and taking a "Who cares if you disagree / You are not me / Who made you King of Anything" approach to life is pretty much a short-cut to being that one person that everyone hates because you always have to get your way. And sure: sometimes you do have to assert yourself and say "I am an independent human being and you have no right to try and control my life"--but you should probably say it in person (i.e., not on Facebook) if you don't want to look petty.
Finally, I realize that much of your opinion on the song (and my slandering thereof) is probably determined by what set of genitalia you have--so I'd just like to take this opportunity to point out that gender does not determine character. There are many assholes in the world, and their flagrant assholism will often manifest itself in ways which align with gender stereotypes, but that doesn't make all men or all women evil.
Some people are just assholes.
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