The Joys of Feline Parenthood

Just to start things off, I have to say that I'm really, truly, completely sick of the current debates that are raging in the public sphere about birth control and abortion, because the answers to many of the specific problems are really simple:

First: You cannot force organizations that are linked to the Catholic Church to cover birth control in their insurance because it's blatantly unconstitutional to do so. There are other sources of affordable birth control for the people in question, and the administration needs to back the fuck down and make an exception before this turns into a painfully open-and-shut Supreme Court case about religious liberty.

Second: You cannot force women who are considering abortions to be penetrated against their will. As someone with pro-life leanings, I can understand the desire to convince people that there are other options besides abortion, but this... Absolutely not. Two rapes don't make a right. The problem with a lot of people in the anti-abortion movement (keep in mind that anti-abortion ≠ pro-life) is that they're so utterly convinced of their own moral superiority that they'll pull fucked up shit like this and expect people to be okay with it because abortion is the ONE AND ONLY POLITICAL ISSUE THAT CATHOLICS ARE ALLOWED TO CARE ABOUT. Well, that and gay marriage, because fuck those guys.

Third: If there's a big hearing about birth control taking place on Capitol Hill, maybe you should let some women speak. I mean, if women have already been allowed to vote, own property, and hold public office, who knows? They might actually be capable of speaking about issues that directly concern them.

There. That wasn't so hard, was it?

See, I don't need House subcommittees or holier-than-thou douchebags to blather on and on about sex and contraceptives and all that stuff, because I already have someone in my life who has made me positive that I'm not remotely ready to have kids:

His name is Sox, and he's an asshole.

For those of you who don't know, Sox is my ladyfriend's cat – and no, he's not named after the article of clothing or a baseball team of the Red or White persuasion; his name is an acronym for Shreveport Opera eXpress.

(The ladyfriend is also an opera singer, in case you couldn't tell.)

Now, I usually consider myself to be a cat person – which is to say that I like cats, not that I'm some sort of furry or freakish Japanese cat-human hybrid. I have nothing in particular against dogs, but I've always thought that cats are great: they're soft and furry, they're usually pretty self-reliant, and they're also the ninjas of the animal kingdom. They can jump hella high, have retractable claws, and stalk their prey like silent, deadly shadows. In short, they're awesome.

Of course, cats are rarely that cool in real life. The ladyfriend has commented on multiple occasions that owning a cat (or at least this particular cat) is like raising a small child, except that Sox will never grow up and go to college and become a useful member of society (but let's face it: neither do a lot of other children). I guess that makes me something like a stepfather, but I don't entirely know how comfortable I am with that idea. I love the little bastard to death – especially when he's sitting on my shoulder and purring up a storm – but given how much this cat can piss me off sometimes, I'm not entirely sure that I wouldn't treat an actual tiny human like James Bond treats his martinis: shaken, not stirred.

My general conclusion is that until I can go an entire week without threatening to sell Sox to a Chinese restaurant, I'm not ready to be a parent. Cats and babies can be a bit like Gremlins: they start off all nice and cute, but things can turn ugly at the drop of a hat. Let's see how they do when facing off against each other:

CHILDREN versus SOX

Food!
Children: Spoon-feeding. Making them eat vegetables. Getting them in and out of high chairs.
Sox: Open a can or spoon some chow into a dish.
Advantage: SOX

Waste!
Children: Years of changing diapers before they're potty trained.
Sox: Already housebroken. Uses a litter box.
Advantage: SOX

Play Time!
Children: Peek-a-boo. Puzzles. Blocks.
Sox: Stuffed mice. Occasional unprovoked maulings.
Advantage: CHILDREN

Bath Time!
Children: Depends on the child. Rubber ducks and other bath toys.
Sox: Hates water. Constant attempts to escape. Lots of howling.
Advantage: CHILDREN

Bedtime!
Children: Will wake up shrieking in the middle of the night. When they get a bit older, they'll climb in bed with you whenever they have nightmares.
Sox: Meows really loudly all night long. Purposely drops his stuffed mice between the pillows and bats at them until someone wakes up and physically throws him out of bed.
Advantage: EVERYONE LOSES.

Final Outcome: DRAW

I'm sure there will come a day when I grow up and embrace the joys of fatherhood... but until then, I'm going to keep shouting profanity at this cat.

Cinema Snark: Why Chronicle makes White Akira unnecessary

If you've been following my Facebook posts religiously for the past few months (because, let's face it: why wouldn't you), you may be aware that certain people in Hollywood have been doing everything in their power to make a live-action version of Katsuhiro Otomo's cyberpunk manga (and anime) masterpiece, Akira.

For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, here's a quick synopsis:

Akira takes place in Neo-Tokyo several decades in the future, many years after a mysterious explosion obliterates the original Tokyo and basically starts World War III. The main story revolves around Kaneda and Tetsuo, two friends/juvenile delinquents/bike gang members who become mortal enemies after Tetsuo develops psychokinetic powers, is kidnapped by the government, escapes, and more or less crowns himself the god-king of Neo-Tokyo. The manga is spread out over six large volumes and has a shit-ton of subplots and supporting characters with distinct personalities, loyalties, and motivations. It's widely considered to be one of the most influential comic books ever created. The animated adaptation is also extremely highly regarded, although its two-hour run time means that a number of subplots and characters are removed entirely.

Needless to say, I kinda love Akira – and under different circumstances, I'd be unbelievably pumped for a live-action remake (though I'd be most excited about an actual Akira series that would faithfully adapt the entire manga). The problem, however, is that the Powers That Be want to take Akira the way of The Last Airbender and utterly ignore everything that makes the original creation unique.

“White Akira,” as its detractors have dubbed it, would be set in Neo-Manhattan, starring a cast of famous, attractive white people. And also Kaneda would be a bartender and Tetsuo would be his brother.

Um... what?

I understand that name-recognition is a good thing and that certain changes have to be made in the adaptation process, but there comes a point when you just straight-up forfeit the right to call your movie Akira. Also, why in the flying fuck would a bunch of crackers from New York City have Japanese names?

That sound you hear is me having a brain aneurysm.

Look: Akira is an inherently Japanese story. Its creator was Japanese, it's set in Japan, the characters are all Japanese (except for the American military characters, who are assholes), and then there's the whole Hiroshima/Nagasaki angle. Japan is the only country in the world that has ever felt the full force of an atomic bombing, and the threat of fiery annihilation hangs over Akira like the fucking thermonuclear warhead of Damocles. And who bombed Japan?

WE DID.

Imagine the following:

1. A Native American artist creates a comic book about the Trail of Tears.

2. An American movie studio decides to adapt the comic book into a movie.

3. The studio decides to cast Chris Hemsworth or someone equally Aryan as the tragically doomed hero.

4. The studio has no fucking idea why people are upset.

Dear Warner Brothers: YOU ARE MORONS. Thankfully, the Akira adaptation is currently on hold until the script can be rewritten and the $90 million budget can be deflated a bit. Here's hoping that it stays in development hell forever.

You know what the best part is, though?

I saw Chronicle this week, and it's better than any American film adaptation of Akira could ever hope to be – and its budget was a measly $15 million. Chronicle is the story of three high school students who find a mysterious alien artifact that grants them psychokinetic powers, and it bears a striking similarity to Akira in its latter half, when one of the protagonists goes mad with power and trashes most of downtown Seattle. Chronicle is all about the use and abuse of power, the trials of adolescence, and how friendships are formed and broken – all central themes in Akira – but despite that similarity, Chronicle manages to find fresh, original ways to present the material. While Josh Trank and Max Landis (the director and writer, respectively, who also collaborated on the story) readily admit that Akira was one of their major influences, their movie is its own entity and they have the freedom to do whatever they want with the characters because they're not pissing all over Katsuhiro Otomo's masterwork.

The “found footage” genre has never really been my favorite thing in the world. Movies like The Blair Witch Project, Cloverfield, and Paranormal Activity have demonstrated that the first-person camera viewpoint is an inexpensive – and sometimes very effective – way to tell a story, but the seemingly endless parade of sequels and imitators have made the limitations of the style painfully clear. Beyond that, I've never really been satisfied with the explanations for why these people keep filming everything, even as they're pursued by demons/cultists/kaiju and they'd clearly run faster if they just dropped the fucking camera and ran for their lives.

Chronicle, however, puts an interesting twist on things: the camera is a way for the protagonist to distance himself from reality. The world has not been kind to Andrew, whether at school or at home, and viewing the world through a lens allows him to distance himself from his shitty life. In short, the camera provides a sort of emotional (and sometimes even physical) protection. As the movie progresses, the newly empowered teenagers do what any member of the Youtube generation would: they use their powers to fuck with people and document it on film because it's funny as hell. Andrew even takes to “holding” the camera psychically, which means more smooth tracking shots and less hand-held jostling. The movie also makes full use of security cameras, news footage, and cell phone videos to keep telling the story when none of the protagonists can be bothered to hold a camera. In short, Chronicle is by far the most inventive entry in the found footage canon – and also, one of the only ones outside of the horror genre (I'd characterize Cloverfield as half-horror, half-sci-fi).

From a story point of view, Chronicle also addresses one of my biggest pet peeves about superpower films: the main characters actually practice using their powers, and the film shows distinct progress in the use of their abilities. One of the biggest reasons I hated the movie Jumper (aside from Hayden Christensen) was that the protagonist never demonstrated that he was anything special – if anything, he seemed to be below average in his skill level – until the climax, when he suddenly became the bestest teleporter who ever lived. That's stupid and terrible and one of the many reasons it was such a shitty movie. Chronicle, on the other hand, shows how the protagonists' powers grow with frequent use, and even shows that different characters have different specialties, like raw power or control and finesse. Their telekinesis is a muscle: the more they use it, the stronger they get.

My favorite parts of Chronicle are around the middle, when the three kids are just using their powers to screw around and have fun – their excitement and mischievousness is practically contagious. The movie builds three pretty believable characters and develops them all in distinct ways, and all of it builds to a pretty awesome climax.

Chronicle was the most fun I've had at the movies in quite some time, and I hope the people at Warner Brothers will realize that it makes “White Akira” even more unnecessary than it already was.

Operagasm: Lucia di Lammermoor

Lucia di Lammermoor is an opera by Gaetano Donizetti, based on the novel The Bride of Lammermoor by Sir Walter Scott – presumably because something like Ivanhoe would have actually been exciting and would therefore have been a terrible opera.

Now, I'm not saying that Lucia is the most boring opera ever, because there's plenty of competition for that dubious honor (my money's on Tristan und Isolde, personally); I'm just saying that the opera seems to consciously avoid excitement like white people avoid Harlem. The opera is set in Scotland, but there's nary a kilt or claymore in sight. There are constant threats of violence, but nothing ever really comes of it: all the opera boasts in terms of action is an offstage murder (which hardly counts) and an onstage suicide because the tenor is a whiny bitch. Nevertheless, Lucia remains one of the most famous works in the standard operatic repertoire, mostly because of the titular heroine's insanely virtuosic music.

The opera centers (as so many operas do) around two star-crossed lovers: Lucia (Lucy Ashton) and Edgardo (Edgar Ravenswood). Although Edgardo is the mortal enemy of Enrico (Henry Ashton, Lucia's brother), he and Lucia are madly in love – which is to say that they're horrifyingly codependent and will literally go insane if anything goes wrong in their relationship.

(Spoiler alert: It does!)

The reason for their creepily dysfunctional brand of love is that opera is one of the most emotionally heightened forms of theater – and since the characters in Lucia aren't exactly lining up to engage in brutal Scottish-style single combat, there has to be something that makes this opera remotely interesting. No one wants to watch three hours of Lucia and Edgardo snuggling on the couch while sipping hot cocoa and watching season two of Downton Abbey, because happiness and stability are boring. Stories need conflict, and if you don't have sword-fights or guns or explosions (or all of the above) then you'd better at least have some emotional instability. This is why happy couples are almost never the main focus of operas, movies, books, etc. When they appear, they're usually A) not the main characters, B) not a couple until the end of the story (e.g. the "happily ever after" ending), or C) present at the very beginning of the story, only for one of them to be brutally murdered and fuel the other's Roaring Rampage of Revenge. (Option C also gets bonus points if the happy couple in question has adorable children.) But until Marvel Studios makes the Punisher into an opera (Il Punitore, ossia La Vendetta di Franco Castello), audiences will have to content themselves with emotionally unstable jackasses who commit suicide at the drop of a hat.

Edgardo: THE BARISTA GAVE ME ONE PERCENT IN MY LATTE INSTEAD OF SKIM; MY LIFE IS NO LONGER WORTH LIVING

The Three Spirits: Oh, fuck this. You're on your own.

Soooo yeah. To make a long story very short: Lucia and Edgardo want to get married, but Enrico forces Lucia to marry Arturo (Arthur Bucklaw, a wealthy nobleman) instead.

The Chorus: WOOO WE LOVE WEDDINGS

Arturo: Thanks for letting me bone your sister, bro.

Enrico: Oh yeah, no problem. So did you bring the money?

The Audience: Is... is he pimping out his sister?

The answer is yes. Yes he is. (Enrico also gets bonus points if his costume includes a wide-brimmed hat with a feather.)

Lucia: Hey, Enrico – can I maybe skip the whole “marrying someone I've never met and don't love” thing?

Enrico: Nnnnnope.

Arturo: Hey, baby. Come here often?

Lucia: I live here.

Arturo: Awwwwww yeah. I bet you do.

Lucia: What does that even mean?

Enrico: Lucia, you're my sister and I love you – but if you don't stop being such a goddamn wet blanket, I will not hesitate to pimp-slap you.

So Arturo and Lucia sign the marriage contract and everyone's happy except Lucia, because she's super-selfish and would rather marry the man she loves than some random rich guy who has the money and influence to make the Ashton family powerful again.

Enrico: What a bitch.

But suddenly, there's a commotion outside!

Edgardo: IT IS I, EDGARDO

The Chorus: OH SHIT IT'S EDGARDO

The Audience: YES THANK YOU WE ALREADY KNOW WHO YOU ARE

Now, this was pretty poor planning on Edgardo's part. Pretty much everyone in that room wants him dead, but instead of being subtle or conciliatory, he decides to rush in while waving a sword and shouting his own name like some sort of Scottish Leeroy Jenkins.

The Audience: It's like he's got a death wish or something.

Edgardo: Funny you should mention that...

And then everyone sings about their feelings for a couple minutes.

Enrico: So that was a great sextet and all, but seriously GTFO.

Edgardo: MAKE ME

Enrico: 'kay. [draws his sword]

All the Men in the Room: [draw their swords]

Edgardo's Backup: [somewhere else] I think we're at the wrong castle.

Edgardo: … fuuuuuck.

Things look pretty bleak for Edgardo, but Raimondo (the priest) chooses that moment to step in and yell at everyone to lower their weapons.

Raimondo: EVERYONE CALM YOUR TITS

The Audience: DAMMIT things were just getting interesting.

This is where an intelligent person, realizing what a dangerous position he's put himself in, would either get the hell outta Dodge or start being polite. Edgardo, however, is not an intelligent person:

Edgardo: WHAT THE HELL LUCIA WHY WOULD YOU MARRY SOMEONE ELSE

Lucia: Hey, remember that time when women had equal rights in society and they could marry whomever they wanted and their lives weren't controlled by their closest living male relative?

Edgardo: Not really, no.

Lucia: Me neither, so fuck off.

And then Edgardo starts shouting about how Lucia is a bitch who betrayed his love and heaven itself, even though none of this is really Lucia's fault. This goes on until everyone has finally had enough of Edgardo's shit and they chase him out at swordpoint.

Then there's an intermission!

Act III opens with the chorus having a party and remaining undaunted by what must have been the most uncomfortable wedding ceremony ever.

The Chorus: This is awesome! Nothing will ever go wrong for our family again!

Raimondo: Soooooo this is kinda awkward, but Lucia just went crazy and stabbed Arturo to death.

The Chorus: GODDAMMIT

And then Lucia stumbles on in her wedding dress, wielding a dagger and covered in blood. It never ceases to disappoint me that her complete mental breakdown and the subsequent murder of her new husband occur offstage, because it seems like such a wasted opportunity for some amazing operatic badassery. It's kinda like watching Black Swan but fast-forwarding through all the parts where Natalie Portman isn't dancing: what you see is pretty cool, but you're still missing all the best parts.

Lucia: … and then he ran into my knife! He ran into my knife ten times.

The Chorus: Holy shit, that's a lot of blood.

Lucia: Yeah, I kinda rolled around in it. Also, HOLY SHIT DO YOU GUYS SEE THAT GHOST OVER THERE

Raimondo: Did I mention she's crazy now?

The Audience: Hey, isn't that the song from The Fifth Element?

Lucia: Not exactly.

And then she rambles for about ten minutes while everyone just stands there and watches.

The Audience: So... no one's going to do anything? Anything at all?

The Chorus: Nah, her crazy might be contagious. Also, this is pretty entertaining.

Finally, Enrico arrives.

Enrico: THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS

The best part of this scene is that no one gave a shit when she was being forced to marry against her will, but now everyone starts feeling sorry for her even though she just murdered someone. The chorus tells Enrico to back off and stop being so mean, and then promptly goes back to standing around and making absolutely no effort to do anything.

Lucia: woooooo ahblablablawoogaboogaboo

The Chorus: [eats popcorn]

And then she dies or something, because going batshit insane is detrimental to your health. Personally, I like to think she contracted syphilis from Edgardo a while back – in part because it explains both the insanity and the death, but mostly because it's funny.

The Audience: Did she just go crazy and fall down?

The Chorus: [still eating popcorn]

Scene change to a graveyard! Edgardo is busy being emo as fuck when a bunch of mourners enter with Raimondo.

The Chorus: WE ARE SO SAD

Edgardo: … the fuck?

The Chorus: LUCIA IS DEAD OR SOMETHING

Edgardo: OH NOOOO I TOTALLY LOVED HER EVEN THOUGH I SAID THAT SHE WAS A HEARTLESS BITCH AND I WISHED I HAD NEVER MET HER

Raimondo: Yeah, you were kind of a dick. And then she went crazy and murdered Arturo.

Edgardo: Aww, that's so sweet. I knew she still loved me!

And then he stabs himself so the two of them can be reunited in heaven. It's supposed to be romantic or something, but mostly it's just fucking stupid – and since Lucia is dead and everyone else hates him, there's no one to mourn his death.

Yay for happy endings!

[Curtain.]