Pilot's Log

In conversation with a family friend, the subject of real-life superheroes came up. I wanted to point her to the Rolling Stone article I originally linked on this LJ, but RS has since dumped it from their archives. You can still find it, however, at the author's blog HERE. Enjoy!

I don't usually write movie reviews here, but this was a target of opportunity. Saw it at a store I only visit every so often and realized that if I didn't buy it, it would drive me crazy. You see, a blue moon or two ago, nick_101 asked me what my favorite ninja movie was, and I had to reply "I'd have to see Curse Of The Golden Flower first." And so, I have.

This film is a sort of parallel to Kurosawa's Ran and his Throne Of Blood in that you have an epic story of royal intrigue. But unlike those Shakespearean-based movies, this one has a plot that I'm not sure the Bard could have contrived.

Like Ran, you have a king and his three sons. However in Curse, the Empress is the Emperor's second mate, so the Crown Prince (Wan) is a product of the first marriage and the others (Jai and Wu) are the sons of the Empress. As the story begins, Jai is returning to the capital after a stint as the royal champion on the frontiers, and the royal house is buzzing in anticipation of the upcoming festival...which happens to coincide with the twentieth anniversary of the previous queen's demise.

By the time the festival comes, assassins strike, poison is poured, weapons are bared--and the truth throws old enemies together and thrusts lovers apart as well.

And the ninjas? There's a lot of them, but more isn't necessarily better. Some of these fights you'd have to see over and over again to get everything that's happening. By the way, the battle scenes are Peter Jackson-scale by the end. The stunts are incredible. But at the same time, does it really top Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon? I'm not sure myself.

I guess I have an excuse to watch Crouching Tiger again, and seek out more ninja movies.

Courtesy of Rolling Stone.

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Anger. I got in so many fights in childhood and adolescence that my older sister thought of it as a bad joke from God. My emotional instability led to me being investigated for drug use and eventually my flunking of High School. And a hard whack to my face has ensured that nobody will ever see me smile.

If I had been given a better way of managing my emotions than dexies and caffeine early on, my life would have been much less shameful and more successful.

FP

Hey.

So I've established that I've come from a time when gender roles had been in flux and social mores weren't keeping pace with realities in society. And what am I left with? I'm left with the view that there is a gulf between my own personal reality and the pattern of roles expected to be taken by somebody of the mainstream.

Another example: Disney's EPCOT Center theme park, specifically the theater that once showed a film starring a celebrity who is even now making news. When his star fell the first time, Disney replaced him with the Muppets.

But this isn't about him...it's about the slide show that preceded his show and may still be preceding the shows there today. It was made by Kodak, and it was supposed to celebrate the life cycle of the typical American. When I saw it, it only underscored to me that in their terms, I wasn't typical.

I didn't go out for sports as a youth. (I did most of a season in PeeWee League, but my parents let me give it up after I took a hit from a line-drive while playing third base. I knew I wasn't star material.)

I never went to summer camp.

I never went to the circus or the zoo as a child. I went to county fairs a few times, but don't have any photos of those occasions.

I never went to a prom or fancy dance.

I never had a graduation ceremony (I flunked high school and got my college diploma from a two-year school that didn't require that level of formality).

As said previously, I never dated. Anything after that point in the life cycle provided by Kodak is irrelevant.

This is just the tip of the iceberg, tho'. Was I subconsciously breeding myself to be unhappy, or was my unhappiness something more fundamental--about both myself and my world's expectations for the kind to which I was supposed to belong? Either way, how could I fail to make myself unhappy when what I thought I wanted to be, and what I thought the world wanted me to be, were meant to be different things?

Those of you who are surfing the LiveJournal multitude looking for the hottest, coolest, most minkable links on the planet and found yourself watching me whine--all of you--I apologize. But those of you who have piles of Kodak Moments in your past and know it--you deserve this treatment from me. Because along with me, there are billions around the world who lack what you've got, and might think me a prince of the age for my consolation prize of a life.

Unfortunately for everybody concerned, there is more to come.

FP