Phil RedBeard

KOTS: The Weight of Silence

I am going to knock on the sky and listen to the sound. – Kevin Flynn

I grew up praying to god.

My earliest memories were praying over food, thanking god for our meal. I prayed over cheerios, peanut butter and jelly, and green beens. In our house, in the early days, this simple religious practice actually carried real meaning: we were very thankful to have what we had. I don’t remember much of those times, but I know now that my father, a blue collar worker, didn’t always have steady work and a consistent income. I do remember some times when my dad was home during the middle of the week and not understanding why. But I never remember missing a meal, unless I was being punished for being rebellious me. And, because we were good Christians, we bowed our heads and thanked our ever-present benefactor.

I prayed in church, too. Of all the places I have prayed, that is probably the most typical. I said I prayed, but more correctly the pastor prayed what felt to be interminable prayers (to my young hyperactive mind, anyway). I would sit with head bowed, desperately trying to keep my eyes closed (as a good Christian should), and would resist the urge to pick at the padding that was sprouting from the seat cushion. My first church was actually a civic centre down the street, and we did not file into pews, but sat in big purple chairs, most of which were so worn out that they were becoming disemboweled, and bored three year olds such as myself probably helped with the active destruction.

After that, I remember praying with my family, whenever we had family Bible study time, or at church during Sunday school. With my family we would sit around the living room, and my father would read something from the Bible, and sometimes a supplemental book, and afterwards we would either divide up prayer “requests” and pray, or my father would simply pray himself. During Sunday school I remember our teachers asking for prayer requests and, as we racked our brains for things to pray about, she would write on the chalkboard what we shouted out. Then we would bow to pray.

Somewhere during this time, I began to pray on my own. As a Christian kid I was encouraged to read my Bible by myself, “a quiet time with god” it was called, and then afterwards I was supposed to pray.

Prayer is talking to god.

Or at least, it is supposed to be. I have never once, outside of the Bible, heard of anyone ever having god audibly talk back to a single person. He certainly never spoke to me. In my entire human existence, whenever I have spoken to another person, I have almost always received a reply back. Even passing someone in the supermarket, and murmuring an “excuse me” usually warranted a grunt response. God is perhaps the most tight lipped person I have ever met.

This puzzled me even as a small boy picking stuffing out of my chair. Why did god never speak to me? Later I was taught that god was definitely speaking to me: “through” the Bible. In reading those hallowed words I was hearing the words of god to me. That was fine for a little kid, and because this whole Bible and Christian thing was so new to me, it worked, because I hadn’t read much of the Bible yet before and there were exciting stories to be distracted by. But, as I got older, and read more (and most of it from the library, not the Bible) I realized that the concept of god talking to me through the Bible was a poor method of communication. For one thing, god said the same thing to everyone and what he said never changed, and was never supposed to. For another, he always spoke to people who lived two thousand years ago, or even older folks, and he tended to speak in metaphor and stories about giants and lions and kings. He never once had anything to say to me as a third brother who only had the black lab to play with most of the day and parents who seemed to fight about everything. He never once said anything to me when my heart ached, or my temper flared, or when I had a really good day. My parents would point me to the Bible. Sad? read a psalm or two. Angry? read some psalms or something. Happy? read some psalms. I never received one unique word from god. I never heard him speak my name, and talk to me.

I asked god for things, I begged him for things, I thanked him for what I had, material and immaterial. I talked to him. I told him how cool he was. All these things I was taught I was supposed to do, regularly, and the more insistently, the better. “The fervent prayer of the righteous man avails much” I was told time and time again when, in despair or confusion or frustration, I went to my mother to ask why I never seemed to hear from god.

Of course, Christians believe that god does answer prayer, just not in words. He performs miracles. He grants requests. He sends good feelings. Theologically there are three answers to prayer (I was taught): yes, no, wait. Yes is for every prayer request that you utter that has a definite object that comes to pass. My grandmother is sick. I pray about it. She gets better. Yes from god. No is the opposite, naturally. My grandfather is sick. I pray about it. He dies. No from god. Wait is for every prayer request that nothing seems to happen about, one way or the other. I need a job. I pray about it. I hear nothing from any job application I ever fill out and when I call no one seems to remember my name. Somehow this doesn’t mean no, but wait, keep praying, it will eventually come.

But I have problems with all of this. First, I could never, ever find a single answer to prayer that I could not logically reason would have happened anyway. I saw no direct miracles. I heard of them. I believed that they could happen. Logically, it even made sense: I was told that god was all-powerful, so a being that is infinite in his ability to influence the universe can do what humans consider to be miracles, I just never saw any. Second, I could not reconcile a need to pray with another of god’s attributes: god is supposed to be all-knowing. So, why do I need to ask him, or tell him, anything? He already knows, is aware, and if he is good and all that, working towards the answer. The Bible even says that god knows what we pray before the words are formed. So, what was the point again? Ostensibly, my own growth, in discipline, to be humble before my master and show that I was leaning on his understanding for my life, or was aware of how awesome he really is. Sure. But to me, that makes god a massive egotist and a jerk. If someone does me wrong, I want them to be humble about it and apologize, but I could never stand people who fawned before me to get something. Just ask, man. I’m happy to help, and really, the only reason I need you to ask is because I don’t know you need something. I, at least, am not all knowing.

Do I sound arrogant, or unwilling to be humble? Well, I am now, but I remember countless times of pressing myself into my bedroom carpet, or onto my bed, face down spread eagle – “prostrate before god” begging and crying and trying as hard as I ever knew how to be humble, and contrite, and properly presented before the sovereign god. I cried, I was quiet, I shouted, I cursed, I was controlled, I repented – literally everything I was ever taught I was supposed to be, or do, or say: I was, did, or said. “The fervent prayer of a righteous man…” Maybe I was never righteous enough, but then, god was supposed to meet me where I was, he was supposed to make me clean, he was supposed to make me righteous, he was supposed to be big enough to handle a little tarnish, because, after all, who is perfectly clean? All of this I was taught time and time again.

But beyond all that, any answer to prayer one “receives” is rationalizable. My grandfather dies. God said no to healing. Or, god said yes to ending his pain. Hitler survives World War I, and at least one assassination attempt. God said no to averting millions of deaths and horrible holocaust. Or, god said yes to Corrie ten Boom’s personal growth. Now, if you don’t know who Corrie ten Boom is, go read her story, and I don’t mean to diminish the strength of an extraordinary person who saw extreme evil up close, but my point is that god’s answers to prayer are subjective, and open to any interpretation one wishes to ascribe to them. “Ask and ye shall receive” is a popular verse, but of course it is taken out of context and doesn’t mean what most Christians most of the time think it means: god will give you what you want. You have to ask for the right things, in the right way, with the right amount of humility, without the wrong amount of sin in your heart, and so on. The small print on that verse goes longer than most cell phone contracts and most celebrity pre-nuptial agreements. God will never, ever give you a Ferrari. Ever.

Back to a personal conversation with someone I was told was a father, a friend who sticks closer than a brother, a lover, and a god with whom I was supposed to cultivate a personal relationship: he doesn’t do that anymore. In the Bible god speaks to people all the time. But that was before most of the Bible was written. Now that it is written, god thinks that is sufficient, or so I had been taught. Wonderful. Can I live in the time of Abraham, please? I really didn’t ever want anything from god. I just wanted to talk to him. To have a talk with the one person I was told comprehended me completely, who understood every single one of my pains. But god doesn’t do that. I have two options: I can read a psalm, or I can talk to someone who hasn’t got a clue, or is often the cause of my pain. Terrific.

This is part of why I have renounced my Christian faith, and have turned my back on what I have believed my entire life.
All I wanted was one, single word. Am I asking too much from an all powerful, all knowing, all loving deity?

I grew up praying to god. All I ever got back was silence. I’m done.

open letter to the hipster man

this is an open letter to the hipster man
in line in front of me at the thrift store

I saw you standing there, fishing
for your cash, your crumpled bills
teased out from your tiny pockets
slim smashed up against your thigh
stitched tight across your skinny
legs, the jeans looked at me, pleading
for a twelve year old girl with pig tails
or justin beiber, which is the same

I hated your arrogance, your fickle irony
your sense of worth and self-satisfaction
exuding from beneath the brown tweed
and useless little scarf, colored red
the color of the blood of men, dried up
and squeezed beneath the flat cap
that once graced the head of a real man
as he worked and sweated and lived
a thousand lives for your smug cup
of starbucks indy mainstream emptiness

I was there for a coffee table, a humble plank
and four little legs, a scratch, and water stain
something to fill my empty low-rent apartment
creaking in the night with a thousand whimpers
for upkeep and proper heating, but you, you fake
were hunting for your properly aged bit of vintage
to preen before your trucker pated phony friends
never once thinking of the long hours shifting
from Santa Fe to Baton Rouge to Memphis
too many hours on shitty coffee and mesmerizing lines
sweating into the seat leather until back and seat mingled
staring through insect carcasses and pitted glass

take your tiny, ineffectual scarf, your uppity sneer
in the face of the homeless man, begging for your reality
and not your feigned fashionable pity, scraping
for the lion’s share of what you spend on your outdated
walkman tshirt tattoo boots beard shades and skinny jeans
and leave this store, where sometimes vintage means
real savings for poorer folk who are glad of the discount price
and chance to use another’s cast off goods for another year
in place of making do with plastic forks and fast food condiments
oh, and the wretched of the world, they wish you stayed in bed
in America, and left well enough alone. Your kind don’t help.

fuck off

sincerely,

me.

SWD: On Filmmaking

I haven’t said much in my Star Wars: Deconstructed series about my underlying philosophy of film or my background in film study. This is intentional. Going through over 13 hours of film 10 minutes at a time in an in depth analysis of story and human behavior is a monumental task that I am struggling to finish in under 6 months. I won’t make it, unless I start writing many of these posts every day and overwhelming my readers. My first SW:D was in October of 2010. I am ten days from beginning a fifth month and am only halfway through the second film. So, in directing my focus solely on two aspects of the film, I am hoping to make my initial task manageable.

But, I am intrigued by much more than I am currently writing about, and hope to touch on that in the future when my first run through the saga is completed. To that end I spent much of today in research, both of the Star Wars films, and of filmmaking in general, and I have decided to post, unannotated, a few quotes I came across today that I think are relevant to comments I have made about George Lucas and his filmmaking.

“In order for audiences to not get bored…tune out, in other words, not believe what is happening on the screen, because believability is what filmmaking is all about. If you believe what is happening on the screen is real and believable then you stay locked in to that film. If it’s not, then you start looking at your watch and start wondering where you are going to go to dinner that night or ‘has anybody got any popcorn?’ or ‘why am I here in the first place?’ You lose it. You wonder why the hell you even came.”

Norman Jewison, Director the Hurricane, Thomas Crown Affair (1968), Jesus Christ Superstar, Fiddler On the Roof

“Effects these days are in the hands of Everyman. You can go shoot a movie on your own, of high quality, of broadcast quality, with camcorders. But it doesn’t necessarily mean we are seeing better movies. Shakespeare didn’t have a word processor. When we got word processors, we didn’t get Shakespeares. We’ve got to separate the two out: there’s creativity and there’s technology. The two are interrelated, but technology is not necessarily creative.”

Harrison Ellenshaw, Associate Producer and Visual Effects Supervisor TRON, Superman IV Visual Effects Star Wars IV, V

“If you try to over-control the process, you limit the process. I mean, I have a pretty strong idea of what I want, but I don’t feel that I create an atmosphere where people can’t speak up and have ideas, because often times people come up with wonderful ideas that are gonna make the movie better and you would be an idiot not to take them.”

Brad Bird, Director Ratatouille, Incredibles, Iron Giant, Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol

“The theatrical cinema, as we know it, is storytelling. The technology is used to tell a story. And that’s the whole point. Its really the filmmaker and how well they are able to tell a story that counts in the end. The digital characters are really what I need to tell the Star Wars films, so I could tell a story that was more like the one I could think of in my head.”

“Very rarely do I not get what I want.”

George Lucas

I will come back to these quotes and discuss them, but at a later date. For now…food for thought.

Knocking On the Sky

I really like the movie TRON: Legacy. My favorite line from that film was Kevin Flynn’s mantra: “I’m going to knock on the sky and listen to the sound.” I love the poetry of the line: the imagery, the emotion, the zen. I have adopted that mantra for myself.

It reminds me of my father’s conversion to Christianity in 1978. He was 18 and filled with despair at life. He wondered if all he experienced was all that life had to offer. In desperation, he wandered outside and gazed up at the stars. Being a ardent fan of science fiction, his mind was filled of fanciful tales of aliens, spaceships, and worlds beyond the small confines of earth. Not really expecting an answer he spoke to the black: “If you are out there, come get me, because whatever you have has got to be better than this.” It was not much later that a casual friend invited him to church and my father, finding value in what was said there, became a Christian.

I have heard this story many times throughout my life. I’ve lived all my life, unlike my father, in a home full of committed Christians. In particular, we were Baptists, which, if you know anything about Christian sects, is a fairly fundamental, conservative brand of the Christian religion. I grew up being taught everything there is to know about being a Christian, going to church at least three times a week, and I thought of myself as a committed Christian. I talked like one, tried desperately to act like one, and was ready to convert the world. But as I grew older, I started to question, to reason, to wonder. Now, as a young man myself, I reflect back on my life and I no longer call myself Christian. I no longer believe what I used to, or think like I used to. I don’t go to church, and I don’t read the Bible.

Anyone who has lived free of any religious entanglements might not really understand what I mean, and might have radically different thoughts about the nature of religion. I follow several admitted atheists on Twitter, and I routinely read disparaging comments they make about those who choose a religious path. At this point I am not an atheist, but having been a Christian myself, and being surrounded by a family full of them still, I know that Christians are not always as they appear, or are portrayed, and even general attacks on them is hurtful to me. Religious bigotry is no more right than racial or sexual or economical or political bigotry. Real people live everywhere, and some of them believe in one god, some of them believe in two, some of them believe in many, and some believe that the idea of god is absurd: but none should be mocked for their beliefs.

All my life I have let my spiritual beliefs be dictated by those around me, those I perceived as having authority over me, and those I respected and looked up to. Such a life has led me to live at odds with myself. Always I battled against my innate beliefs, my natural inclinations, and my thoughts. I was forced to reject or ignore what I felt in favor of what I was told was right. Even though I have been to college, graduated, and got married to the love of my life, still I found myself quieting my doubts and disbeliefs for the sake of those around me.

I can no longer do that. I can no longer keep quiet about what I truly feel. I can no longer let those whom I love and respect dictate what I believe, even passively. I must discover such things for myself. I do this as gently and as quietly as possible because I do not wish to upset or concern those who love me. I am unable to be callous and uncaring. Many care deeply about my well being and the state of my soul, and are compelled to do so because of their love for me and their sincere beliefs, and I will not begrudge them that.

As Shepherd Book says in the science fiction film Serenity, “I don’t care what you believe: just believe!” Book is a holy man, a part of a religious order traveling with a brigand Captain. Captain Reynolds used to believe in god, but an unjust, brutal war burned the belief out of him. As a result of believing in nothing, Reynolds was unfocused and haunted. Book didn’t care if Reynolds believed in his particular religion, but he knew that some sort of belief was essential to the human life.

Atheist or not, there is no denying that part of the human condition is a need to believe. A cause, a god, a purpose, a goal, a mantra: all people believe in something. The business man believes in business. The politician believes in social service. The soldier believes in battle. The mother believes in nurturing. The Christian believes in god. The writer believes in words. All of this is messy, blended, confused, and interwoven. There are no clear cut definitions. We are all of us searching and learning and assimilating and growing and every day our beliefs are reinforced, either negatively or positively or neutrally. It is human.

So, because I am especially confused and thoughtful and searching for some clarity in my spiritual life, I am going to knock on the sky and listen to the sound and find something to believe. I am doing this formally in my blog and publicly in my blog for two reasons: first, I find it very hard to write unless I have the illusion that someone out there is reading what I write, and secondly, I hope that something in my struggle and my process of working through what I believe can help someone out there somehow. Perhaps an atheist will realize that Christians are not self-deluded idiots willfully believing in what they know to be a fanciful and absurd make believe world, or perhaps some Christians will realize that it is ok to doubt, to question, and to think deeply about what they believe, or perhaps someone living somewhere in between the two will read one man’s exploration of belief.

Don’t mistake me: I don’t have any answers, but I do have questions. Back when I was learning ancient Hebrew in an effort to understand the Bible better, my professor told me that it was ok to live in the questions. So here I am, Brian: I am living in the questions, and they are many.

SWD: Home Sweet Murderous Rampage

Anakin Skywalker returns home to Tatooine to find that not much has changed, except that his mother has been tortured to death, and he takes that rather personally. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan Kenobi does some super sleuthing on Geonosis and uncovers an evil plot.

Star Wars Episode Two: Attack of the Clones (01.11.19-01.23.08)

Watto was able to find the bill of sale for Shmi Skywalker which helpfully included the address to the Lars Homestead: somewhere in the desert on the other side of Mos Eisley. Anakin is reunited with his droid friend, C-3P0, as he approaches the familiar homestead, but as with everything and everybody in this scene, Anakin does not care. He appears to be consumed with finding his mother, but really he is consumed with himself: his pain, his anger, his insecurities, his frustrations, his desires. This theme continues through the next segment and into Revenge of the Sith, but it is begun here. Notice: Anakin descends into the Lars homestead and is introduced by Threepio, and Owen in turn introduces himself and Beru, but Padme is left to introduce herself while Anakin glowers around at everything, barely acknowledging anyone’s presence.

I find myself wanting to find fault with Anakin’s behavior while at the same time excusing it. He has a terrible premonition that something bad is happening to his mother, but at the same time he doesn’t know anything concrete. I compare this to Luke’s vision about Cloud City from Empire Strikes Back, since this is obviously the same exact sequence (for the most part) and while Luke was tormented by his vision, tight lipped, and conflicted, he was ultimately able to function. Anakin barely functions, but that fits his obsessive, brooding nature. Still, not introducing Padme and not engaging with people who have invited you into their home (especially when they are family) is the purview of a jerk.

Cliegg Lars, Anakin’s stepfather, then appears and tells the sad tale that Shmi was kidnapped by the local Tusken Raiders. (Aside: given Lucas’s out-of-control copying of himself, it is rather shocking that Beru is not pouring blue milk for her guests.)

I like the fact that the Tuskens are involved in this tragic little sequence: they move from minor antagonists in A New Hope to a group of people that have some sort of culture, place on Tatooine, and a back story. Lucas establishes that the Tuskens are people: savage, maybe, but people.

A few more homages later (“Where are you going?” and Anakin staring at the suns – 01.13.48) Anakin takes off to find his mother, following some internal Force compass. Again, I like the quick scene in which Anakin seems to be getting directions from a group of Jawas: it reflects back to A New Hope while flushing out the Jawas just a bit more.

But, this is where things get bad: Lucas has built the tension, the mystery, and the agony of Anakin knowing his mother is in some sort of danger, having those fears confirmed, and then racing off into the night to find her in a desperate, hopeless journey and then Lucas just kills it by arbitrarily cutting to Obi-Wan on Geonosis. The audience has connected with Anakin’s mounting anxiety and fear, and is on the edge of their seat (sort of) wondering if Shmi lives and if Anakin will find her when all of that investment is cast aside.

Obi-Wan looks around, sneaks around, and eavesdrops on Count Dooku and his posse of Separatist collaborators. This scene is slow, expositional, and political all of which equal: boring mood killer. Besides which the political stuff is confusing. It is something about pledging support, signing some undefined and never mentioned again treaty (I wonder if this treaty includes a clause that legalizes the Trade Federation’s occupation of Naboo?), and putting together an army of battle droids to overwhelm the Jedi, thereby forcing the Republic to capitulate to a series of “demands”. Perplexed? Me too.

I thought the Separatists wanted to Separate from the Republic because they believe (correctly, by the way) that the Republic is corrupt, unable to function, and in need of serious reformation. So, why is Dooku allying with a bunch of corporations? He talks about tens of thousands of star systems joining his cause, but he has not one single political entity on the Separatist council. Why would a bunch of concerned politicians join with a bunch of corrupt and sleazy businessmen? Especially since a major player is Nute Gunray who is still in charge of the Trade Federation and who is still responsible for the largest galactic outrage in the past ten years (who is also still somehow blaming Amidala for his loss at Naboo instead of Sidious even though doing so makes no sense) (but it is nice that someone is remembering that someone is supposed to be trying to kill Amidala instead of letting her picnic in open fields and take a little jaunt over to Tatooine).

You see why this totally kills the Anakin-desperately-trying-to-find-mother-in-distress tension?

But, just as soon as Obi-Wan conveniently hears everything he needs to hear, the audience finally gets to catch back up with Anakin who is sneaking into the Tusken camp to find his mother, which he does, and she dies in his arms having apparently held on to life in order to see his face once more.

Touching. Tragic.

And then Darth Vader appears in all of his horrific, evil glory.

This is the moment in which Anakin Skywalker turns to the Dark Side of the Force and becomes Darth Vader. Sorry, Obi-Wan, he was not seduced: he chose it. Killing Dooku on the bridge of Greivous’ ship is a mere formality. Stopping Mace Windu from assassinating Sidious is beside the point. Slaughtering Jedi children and the Separatist council are just two more heinous war crimes yet to be committed. This is the moment. Right here Anakin closes his mother’s eyes and chooses to punish an entire clan of men, women, and children for the crimes of a few, or perhaps even just one. Anakin chooses rage, passion, wrath, and revenge over serenity, compassion, understanding, peace, and forgiveness. Anakin chooses Sith over Jedi.

Anakin murders everyone. Anakin deliberately chooses to commit horrible evil. Anakin deliberately chooses to become Darth Vader.

(I know that Anakin just tragically witnessed his mother dying. I know that Anakin has unresolved mother issues. None of that excuses wanton murder. At all. Ever.)

That part of this sequence makes sense; it has been building for quite some time. What doesn’t make sense is that George Lucas once again kills all emotion, tension, and suspense by cutting as quickly as possible from Anakin’s unleashing of hell to a completely superfluous and unnecessary scene in Yoda’s quarters where he senses Anakin’s pain. The other horrible consequence of framing Anakin’s murderous rampage this way is that it distances the audience from what he has just done and seeks to excuse it. Immediately the focus shifts from the unjustifiable killing of many to Anakin’s pain, to Anakin. Poor Anakin who has just lost his mommy, not poor Tuskens who didn’t ask for genocide.

And, even if the scene shift to Yoda was for story reasons, for instance, teasing Qui-Gon Jinn’s return from death (“Anakin! Anakin! Noooo!” 01.20.54) and Obi-Wan’s subsequent Force-ghost existence, that is a very, very bad reason to cut because that is a very, very minor technical world-building detail afterthought. Even having Qui-Gon’s disembodied voice in this scene at all is confusing, jarring, and never explained until the end of Revenge. It is a “huh? what was that?” moment that pulls the audience out of the story completely.

Anyway, Anakin’s decent into evil is distanced some more and the emotion is scattered a bit wider when the scene cuts back to Obi-Wan who is fiddling with his CB radio, which he does for far too long boring the audience completely.

At any rate, Anakin is traveling back to the homestead while Obi-Wan leaves a message on his answering machine instead of calling any other Jedi that might be in the area.

(01.23.08)

Concerning: Faramir

I am reading through the Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien as has been my annual pleasure for the past ten years. I started just prior to the release of the film version of Fellowship of the Ring in theaters, and have just finished The Two Towers for the tenth time. Next up: Return of the King.

At the end of the Two Towers, Frodo Baggins and Sam Gamgee encounter the young captain of Gondor Faramir in the empty forests of Ithilian. Frodo bears the One Ring of Power, forged in secret by the dark lord Sauron, and has been sent on a mission to destroy that great physical evil forever. Earlier, at the end of the Fellowship of the Ring, Boromir, Faramir’s brother, was overcome by his need for the Ring and physically assaulted Frodo in an attempt to possess it. He was unsuccessful, and Frodo escaped.

Now Frodo encounters Faramir, and he wonders if he must endure a second assault. However, in their discussion on such matters, Faramir comforts Frodo with these words:

“But fear no more! I would not take this thing, if it lay by the highway. Not were Minas Tirith falling in ruin and I alone could save her, so, using this weapon of the Dark Lord for her good and my glory. No, I do not wish for such triumphs, Frodo son of Drogo….

For myself I would see the White Tree in flower again for the courts of the kings, and the Silver Crown return, and Minas Tirith in peace: Minas Arnor again as of old, full of light, high and fair…War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all, but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend: the city of the Men of Numenor…”

Frodo still is unsure, because Faramir does not know, at the time he said those words, that Frodo in fact carried the Ring and meant to destroy it. Later, while slightly touched by wine, Sam inadvertently reveals the location of the Ring, and Frodo’s purpose with it. Realizing his grievous error, Sam confronts Faramir:

“Now look here, sir! Don’t you go taking advantage of my master because his servant’s no better than a fool. You’ve spoken very handsome all along, put me off my guard….but handsome is as handsome does [sic] so we say. Now’s a chance to show your quality.”

And Faramir replies:

“So it seems. So that is the answer to all the riddles! The One Ring that was thought to have perished from the world. And Boromir tried to take it by force? And you escaped? And ran all the way – to me! And here in the wild I have you: two halflings, and a host of men at my call, and the Ring of Rings. A pretty stroke of fortune! A chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor, to show his quality!

“Alas for Boromir! It was too sore a trial!…We are truth-speakers, we men of Gondor. We boast seldom, and then perform, or die in the attempt. Not if I found it on the highway would I take it [sic] I said. Even if I were such a man as to desire this thing, and even though I knew not clearly what this thing was when I spoke, still I would take those words as a vow, and be held by them.

But I am not such a man. Or I am wise enough to know that there are some perils from which a man must flee….Fear not! I do not wish to see it, or touch it, or know more of it that I know…lest peril perchance waylay me and I fall lower in the test than Frodo son of Drogo.”

Clearly Faramir has no desire whatsoever for the Ring of Power.

Yet, in the film version, Faramir’s character has changed one hundred and eighty percent. He chooses to take the Ring to Gondor, and acts no differently than Boromir. There, in the wild, with a host of men at his command, he forced Frodo and Sam all the way to Osgiliath, near to Minas Tirith, and only when pressed by attack, and at wit’s end, did he relent and allow Frodo to leave (after a moving speech by Sam).

I have no idea why Peter Jackson and company so changed Faramir’s character, and it frustrates me. Sure, many other things were changed between book and film, and needfully so, but I am at a loss to explain this alteration. It does nothing to change the ultimate course of events, only the character of one man who was written to be set apart. He was a cunning warrior who in a book of warriors did not love war, or welcome it. Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, Legolas, Theoden, Eomer – almost every other warrior fought was one who loved war, and who fought for valor, but Faramir alone was unmoved by the call of glory, and was not compelled to advance himself or his fortunes, or even the fate of the city he loved, by stretching out his hand for the Ring. He knew that the way thereof was vain folly. Why, then, change what made him unique for the sake of the film?

In the movie, his “chance to show his quality” was nothing more than a bid to gain favor in the sight of his father, Denethor, not to stand firm and reject the seductive allure of the Ring of Power. He was so cheapened and diminished.

I freely admit that I am a Lord of the Rings nerd, and a geek in general, but as my once and future posts on Star Wars prove, I seek most ardently the truth of writing: that which is most accurately a portrayal of the human condition, and while there are weak humans aplenty, there come in every generation those who stand incorruptible, and in the context of the Lord of the Rings, Faramir was such a one.

“Sam hesitated for a moment, then bowing very low: ‘Good night, Captain, my lord,’ he said. “You took the chance, sir.’

‘Did I so?’ said Faramir.

‘Yes, sir, and showed your quality: the very highest.'”

(pages 656-657, 665-667 The Two Towers)

App: Instagram

I am an amateur photographer.

Until recently I was considering buying a point-and-shoot compact digital camera, something like a Canon Powershot or similar variety, but, after upgrading to an iPhone 4, I’ve changed my mind.

I had an iPhone 3G for over two years, and while the phone had a camera, it wasn’t the best and didn’t take exceptional photos. It snapped grainy, low resolutions pictures like most other camera phones. The iPhone 4 takes much better pictures with its upgraded camera which boasts higher resolution, increased megapixels and LED flash.

Quality is certainly a factor in a camera purchase, but a secondary consideration I had was pocket space. I don’t carry a man purse, messenger bag, or any other such device for hauling stuff around with me. My every day inventory is limited to what I can hold in my pockets. Currently that is a wallet, a moleskin notebook, a pen, a pocket knife, my keys, my iPhone, and on days that are sunny, my sunglasses. I don’t have an extra pocket for a camera, and even if I did, many small cameras are still bulkier than I want to shove into a pocket.

My last concern was ease of use, and while this isn’t a problem with actual cameras (power on-point-shoot-repeat), it was with the iPhone. My 3G was feeling its age, and barely was able to run the iOS 4 software and that made taking pictures painful. I would have my nieces over, and one of them would do something cute, and I would want to capture it, but by the time I whipped out my iPhone, unlocked it, activated the app, and waited for it to ready the camera, my ever-in-motion niece would no longer be in the same place doing the same adorable thing. To my satisfaction the super-speedy upgraded hardware that inhabits the iPhone 4 activates the camera app as quickly as my fingers can manipulate the touchscreen and I am ready to take a photo in seconds.

Having decided to make my iPhone my camera, I looked into apps that would further facilitate my creative impulses. There are a plethora of photo taking apps available in Apple’s app store, and if you’ve an iPhone or iPod Touch, I recommend having a look around. My go-to app, thus far, is Instagram.

The app allows me to take a picture, apply one of several filters to alter the look of the photo, and then post the photo to Facebook, Twitter, Flickr! and other popular social networking web sites. Instagram is so easy to use that, once I have decided what to take a picture of, I can snap a picture, choose a filter, give it a title and a geolocation tag, and upload it to the world wide web all in about 45 seconds. Even better? The app is Free.

I like Instagram so much that I have decided to challenge myself to take one picture with it every day for an entire year. So far I have taken 11 consecutive photos which you can see here. I plan to peruse the App store and try out other photography apps, and when I do, I will post reviews of the ones I like and choose to use.

Photography is a huge field, but what I really appreciate is the breadth of opportunity within it. There are high end, expensive, well-crafted cameras for the expert photographers and there are ordinary, cheap, well-crafted cameras for the amateur photographer. For my simple purposes, there is an iPhone with an app for that.

man on fire

full metal jacket soothsayer
hammer stroke’s purging fire
boring holes with veracious hunger
smoking through every liar

familia es importante, no es verdad?
la hermandad de muertas
y la pintura de muertas
obra maestra maravillosa

lost little lamb
el hombre del fuego
he’s arranging the meeting
el Dios y el diablos

SWD: What Dreams May Come

Having almost ground the movie to a dusty halt over the past half hour, Lucas and Co. throw in a fight scene and a chase-through-asteroids scene in a bid to regain some momentum and probably wake up the audience. I think it is certainly better than Anakin and Padme trying to have an adult conversation.

Star Wars Episode Two: Attack of the Clones (00.58.59-01.11.18)

The scene opens with Anakin in bed, having a nightmare. After the rough, emotion filled evening he just experienced, it is hardly surprising that he is not sleeping well. I wish that Lucas showed the dream rather than Anakin dreaming, but only because watching someone have a bad dream feels awkward and voyeuristic. Also, seeing the dream requires additional thought and creativity which Lucas apparently didn’t feel like exerting. Furthermore, I strongly feel that this scene is supposed to mirror Luke’s vision in Empire Strikes Back, but in that scene, there were other things happening because Luke wasn’t, strictly speaking, dreaming and that gave much more depth to the scene. As this is part of a larger point I want to make, I will come back to it in a few moments.

Anakin, it seems, doesn’t return to sleep but spends the rest of the night meditating. When Padme wakes up and stumbles outside, she seems him, but turns to go. Anakin requests that she stay because her “presence is soothing” whatever that means (00.59.54). Padme merely comments on Anakin’s obvious bad night, trying to get him to talk about what is bothering him, but Anakin reverts to a twelve year old state when he tries to deny his bad night by snarling “Jedi don’t have nightmares”; a statement that is as inhuman as it is false (00.59.52). Padme patiently points out that she heard him having the bad dream, but it still takes Anakin a few moments before he admits the truth. Why? Because Anakin possesses unrealistic ideas about what it means to be a Jedi. Padme’s cold dose of reality breaks through his feeble defenses, and he confides in her. Given half an inch of freedom Anakin runs to find his mother, which I believe he would have done eventually, even without the bad dreams, but the premonitions give him a good excuse.

And there endeth the plot development for this part of the film. Obi-Wan brawls with Jango on Kamino, and then chases him through an asteroid belt in orbit over Geonosis. Meanwhile Anakin tracks down his mother through Watto, who sold her years ago, business being business.

One amusing tidbit: when Obi-Wan flies over Geonosis before landing to check things out, he mentions that there is “an unusual concentration of Federation ships” but what he means by this I have no idea (01.10.45). Is there some sort of galactic rule that says there should only be four Federation ships at one place or something? This line, I think, is supposed to be a clue to audience that something sinister is going on, but it actually is quite meaningless and makes one scratch their head while trying to figure out what in the galaxy Obi-Wan means.

But, on to a more troubling matter: Lucas copies himself way too much. In the behind the scenes material for the Phantom Menace, Lucas discusses Anakin blowing up the droid control ship as a future echo of Luke blowing up the Death Star and says that such tropes are “like poetry…they rhyme; every stanza rhymes with the one after it. Hopefully it will work” (3.29 “A Beginning…”). Unfortunately for Lucas, I don’t think it works. Because…

Lucas is not a poet. He is not a writer. He is a special effects wizard who had a great story idea. What he doesn’t realize is that rhyming is a very subtle thing, used too obviously or too liberally and it disgusts rather than delights. Poetry is about seducing language in order to seduce, delight, and tantalize the reader. Lucas’s poetry is not tantalizing: it is a kick in the face. Almost every single thing in the prequels is an echo of the future: you cannot escape it, you cannot excuse it, and you cannot ignore it. Consider Attack of the Clones: First, a love story is a strong secondary story, just like in the Empire Strikes Back. Second, a dangerous bounty hunter is introduced, and it is even the same bounty hunter. There is a chase through some asteroids. Obi-Wan hides out on the back of rock with all systems shut down to confuse his pursuer just like Han does with the Imperials. Anakin has dreams while Luke had visions. There is a big battle at the end instead of the beginning. There is a wampa and there is an acklay/reek/lexu. There is even a father figure revealed: “Watto never told you about your step-father. I am your step-father!!” And Cliegg is even missing a leg like Anakin will be soon. You get the picture? (Honestly, it is hard not too).

Lucas’s problem is not that he mirrors the original trilogy. I have said before that it is a very good thing to do. People see sequels for the express purpose of seeing a film like unto the original film, in fact it tends to be the major draw to a sequel. But, what makes a successful sequel is not a carbon copy of the original: that is, by definition, a failure. (To be fair, people disagree with me about this.) For instance, I believe the endless horror sagas that are popular today are failures because, while the first film might be an innovation, every successive sequel uses the exact same setup and tells pretty much the same story. Lucas does manage to weave new material into the prequels, but not much, which is why I think the Star Wars sequels are better than they otherwise would be.

My point is that one or two major references to the original trilogy would have been expected, needed, and perfectly ok, but mirroring each film so closely just shows a lack of imagination and finesse. Yes, Anakin and Padme are fated to fall in love and produce Luke and Leia, but making that a hard-to-get I-admit-I-love-you-because-we-are-about-to-die love story (a la Han and Leia) was a bad idea: it should have just been a classic fall-in-love romance. Jango Fett’s entire role is unnecessary, and even if it were, forget the whole idea of a clone son, just have it be Boba Fett and get it over with. No asteroid chase, no bad dream, and no step-father, either. Write new chase locations, new ideas to drive the story, and forget awkward psuedo-family encounters.

Futhermore, how exactly was Kenobi going to get Jango back to Coruscant for a Jedi interrogation? I submit that a plot device that is impossible to achieve, even one that never is achieved, is badly written. I find the whole fighting/chasing Jango thing to be an obvious sham because 1) there is no physical way Kenobi could have taken Jango into custody (there is no back seat to Kenobi’s ship, or was he supposed to hope Jango had a suitable ship to “borrow”?) and 2) he forgets about that mission just as quickly as Lucas forgot that Jango was supposed to be trying to kill Amidala, not whatever it is he was doing instead. Jango’s escape is nothing more than an elaborate plot device to get Kenobi to Geonosis, a place he otherwise would not end up.

Anyway, Kenobi explores Geonosis while Watto hunts for Shmi’s bill of sale. The plot thins…

(01.11.18).

SWD: The Mystery of Sifo-Dyas

I’ll say this about the next nine minutes: George Lucas finally got his whale. His air whale, that is, a creature he has been trying to fit into a Star Wars film since the first Star Wars film. I give him that achievement, because in terms of story, Attack of the Clones keeps failing.

Star Wars Episode Two: Attack of the Clones (00.50.21-00.58.58)

The next section of Clones begins with the best scene since Dex’s Diner: Obi-Wan Kenobi finally finds his assassin.

First he meets the notorious Boba Fett, who in a few quick moments is de-mystified from uber-bad galactic bounty hunter to extravagant wish-fulfillment payment. Boba Fett is an astoundingly popular figure from the original Star Wars mythos, despite having doing very little in the films except collect Han Solo from Darth Vader and get his butt kicked by a blind Han Solo over the Pit of Carkoon in Return of the Jedi. Instead of being the son of a notorious bounty hunter who becomes a great bounty hunter himself, Boba is now one clone among many who no doubt has serious identity issues and a weird relationship with himself/his “father”.

Besides all this, Jango strikes me as the type who has a girl in every spaceport and probably about 10 kids he knows or cares nothing about. Why would he want a son, and why choose an unaltered clone as a son surrogate? Is the man just that narcissistic or is he trying to make up for a life full of mistakes by having a little him to grow up and make new ones? Either way, the origins of Boba Fett are shrouded in confusion and serious psychological issues that makes me wonder just what Lucas was thinking. My opinion: Boba should have been the reason Jango is such a badass. Boba should have been the son of Jango’s wife, who was tragically murdered, and Jango’s first bounty was the murderer. That is so cliche, but is actually so much more compelling than, “well, son, there was a special on me at the supermarket: buy a million, get one free!”. Seriously.

The short meeting between Jango Fett and Obi-Wan Kenobi is one of the best person-to-person interactions in the prequel trilogy (a sad commentary, in that this is perhaps the quickest confrontation). Jango, if not initially, then certainly very quickly, recognizes Obi-Wan and it is clear Kenobi comes to the correct conclusion that Jango is the bounty hunter he has been hunting. The two men circle each other (literally) like panthers, testing their enemy for weakness. Each probes, and deflects. Each says more with their eyes than their words. There is an air of mutual respect. These are two warriors, each a cut above the rest.

The really bad part of this interaction is the fact that once again the ethereal Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas is mentioned, but nothing ever comes of his mysterious involvement in the mysterious clone army which is tied to a mysterious bounty hunter who is trying to kill Senator Amidala for an as yet unknown employer for unknown reasons. His name is mentioned by the Kaminoans as the one who placed the order for the army ten years ago. Jango reveals that he was recruited by Tyranus (spoiler: that is, Darth Tyranus aka Count Dooku). Sifo-Dyas and Tyranus seem to be separate people. Were they working together? Did Dooku kill and then impersonate Sifo-Dyas or perhaps impersonate him and then kill him? I don’t really care, but it is sloppy to mention this character so prominently and then do nothing whatsoever about it. Later in this segment, when Kenobi discusses what he has learned with Yoda and Mace Windu, they deny that any Jedi representative had anything to do with the whole affair, and then Sifo-Dyas is never mentioned again. In fact, Yoda wants to question Jango Fett, but given the nature of the investigation, wouldn’t it also make sense to examine minutely the last days of Sifo-Dyas? He could be a red herring thrown out by the Kaminoans, but they seem to be innocent of any plot, as Kenobi says “there appears to be no motive” for them to be involved in assassination plots or political intrigue (00.57.50). Politically neutral arms dealing is a classic world, and it seems galactic, business. But, the lack of interest in a Jedi that seems to be at the heart of this alarming development in galactic affairs seems criminal. Either the Jedi Council are astounding idiots, or Lucas is a bad writer, introducing characters and plot tangents completely randomly without any thought to a cohesive story.

The action breaks from Kenobi’s boring walk back to his starfighter to a meaningless dinner at the Amidala estate. Anakin is telling a pointless story and using the Force casually. He says that Obi-Wan would be “grumpy” because he is floating fruit around a room, but I think, rather, that Obi-Wan would be grumpier that Anakin is about to break a central pillar in the Jedi Code (00.53.31). The acting is horrible (Portman seems to be in pain) and the dialogue is awkward. Anakin alternates between creepy and pouty. And things get worse when the uneasy couple moves into a dark, fire lit room. Padme is inexplicably wearing what can only be described as a seduction outfit. She is literally bulging out of her choker dress. No wonder the 19 year old hormonal Anakin can only think about this passionate feelings toward her, and is in “agony” and is “tormented” in his “very soul” while being “haunted by the kiss [Padme] should never have given” (00.55.05).

Padme will spend the next few minutes trying to resist Anakin’s advances, but her words are meaningless when she is dressed as she is. I really would rather not mention wardrobe, but what a character is wearing is hugely important, because in life we choose our clothes deliberately. I have watched the behind the scenes, and it appears that Lucas has no clue about wardrobe because he seems to make directorial decisions completely at random, and without considering what clothes say. He has been very clear that during the Original Trilogy he “studiously avoided fashion” and he was better for it, because he chose the simplest, most direct costumes for each character and it worked so much better. Even if he chose Padme’s slinky black dress deliberately, then he deliberately made Padme a complete jerk, because she entices Anakin while denying his advances.

Anakin then does the only thing he knows to do: he says everything that he has been thinking with raw honesty, and to add to Padme’s douchiness, she says absolutely nothing until Anakin practically begs her for a response, and then she makes him out to be the unreasonable one. “We live in a real world…come back to it” she reprimands, when it is she who is living in a fantasy world: hiding from Senatorial responsibilities, whining about votes and motives, while at the same time she cavorts and preens before a teenage boy dealing with his very first crush without any thought to what is proper or decent. She is at least six years older than he is, and knows about such things as personal relationships, which makes it her responsibility to be the mature one. Perhaps she was playing the temptress and indulging a little fling, but that was irresponsible and wrong of her. At night in the red room wearing the black choker is exactly the wrong time to think about the “real world” and the wrong place to lecture Anakin about it (00.55.29). She then tries to put the focus back on Anakin, trying to say that she won’t “let [him] give up his future for her” making a lame excuse about being a senator (as if it were forbidden for her to have a relationship) (00.55.48).

What is really happening here is this: Lucas tried his hardest to write a scene in which it should appear that Anakin is being irrational, headstrong, overly passionate, and a little dark while Padme is trying to be righteous, moral, clear and level headed. What is actually being communicated is this: Anakin has endured several days of constant flirtation and enticement from the woman that he is madly in love with, and finally works up the nerve to tell her what is clearly obvious, and that woman denies all responsibility, culpability, or knowledge of the same in self-righteous fervor, instead blaming Anakin for his “faults”. Anakin acts naturally and, to some degree reasonably, despite all attempts by his writer to make him act differently. Padme comes off as a complete jerk and Anakin is the straight man who struggles honestly and mightily with his forbidden feelings. Right here Anakin is a hero because he stays true to himself while honestly acknowledging his flaws, even if his words are badly written. “You are asking me to be rational; that is something that I know I cannot do” because love is the most irrational human affliction (00.55.53). It is as if Lucas needed their love to be forbidden when that was hardly the case. I refuse to believe that in a “thousand generations” there was never a single Jedi that got married and managed to still fulfill his Jedi duties and that exceptions could not be made. Such an assertion just makes no sense in a galaxy comprised mostly of humans.

Padme’s parting shot is that she “could not live a lie” as if she didn’t do that readily and frequently as the Queen pretending to be a handmaiden, which was the beginning of her relationship with Anakin: a lie (00.56.32).

Back on Kamino, Kenobi contacts the Jedi Council (having learned from Phantom Menace the value of encrypted communications). During the exchange, Yoda reminds Kenobi to “not assume anything…clear your mind must be” when in fact Yoda, and the rest of the council, does almost nothing but jump to conclusions (00.58.00). No wonder they were conned into fighting a null-war and were easily wiped out. Yoda and Windu assume the following in this minute of dialogue: A) the Jedi should have been able to see the creation the clone army, B) the Dark Lord of the Sith knows that their ability to use the Force is diminished, and C) if they inform the Senate, general lawlessness would ensue. Of the three, only the third seems at all likely. Even a group of supernaturally aware beings should not expect to be magically aware of every business transaction in a vast galaxy, and there really is no reason to assume that Darth Sidious knows that the Jedi are Force-impaired. In fact, the only reason I can think of that this is true is because Yoda inadvertently told Sidious himself in the beginning of the film, and that Lucas forgot that just because the author knows something, it does not follow that his characters know that thing. To afflict the deceased equine: this is further evidence of bad writing.

But on that “da-da-duumm” the scene ends.

(00.58.58).