Knives Out - Review

Director: Rian Johnson Writers: Rian Johnson Starring: Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Ana de Armas, Jamie Lee Curtis

Scores

Overall: 8 out of 10

Writing: 9 out of 10

Acting: 8 out of 10

Visual Excitement: 7 out of 10

Cinematography: 7 out of 10

Editing: 7 out of 10

Audio Production: 6 out of 10

Elevator Pitch

I had a blast watching this film. I came into it with a bit of skepticism, mostly due to the enthusiastic marketing leading up to it and because of the genre, but primarily I had an open mind. I hadn’t looked into who had written or directed it (it must have come up in the endless trailers I had seen, but somehow I didn’t retain it) and I’m glad I didn’t. More on that, later. So, as you can see above, almost every aspect of this film I felt was well above average. It grabbed my attention at the very beginning, and as it established its rules of what it reveals to the audience vs. what it reveals to the other characters, I was hooked. And then, at the culmination of the first act it gives the audience a piece of information that you would never expect from a film like this. Suddenly, you’re off the rails of ‘formula’ and in uncharted territory. Everything is called into question, and I went from hooked to RIVETED. And the best part is that this film follows through on the expectation, it delivers on it’s delightful premise. It should probably go without being said, but you definitely want to experience this film once without knowing whodunit. So, if you haven’t seen it already, stop reading and go see it right now before you read something on social media that ruins the mystery of first viewing.

Analysis

Rian Johnson is now solidly on my radar. I was not aware of him when I saw “Brick”, and I thought “Looper” was a pretty mixed bag. I’m no huge fan of the new Star Wars films, so I’d kinda written him off. But with this film he’s really back in his element. It makes sense, now that I’ve looked at his IMDB closely, that the writer/director of this also made “Brick”. It actually makes me want to see if I can find the screenplays for both “Looper” and “The Last Jedi” and see if there was a substantial degradation from outside interference as those stories made their way from page to screen. I am very impressed with how Johnson has managed to make this story feel simultaneously super tight, but also as if anything could happen. It’s a real testament to solid writing. There are so many elements of reincorporation and red herrings to make the watcher feel intelligent just for paying attention and following along. 

<Minor Spoilers from this point on> I think the most interesting thing about this story is that it is entirely comprised of characters who experience flat arcs. No one fundamentally grows or changes meaningfully over the course of the film. Instead, the source of tension is entirely in the manipulation of information and how close (or seemingly close) the characters play their hands to their chests. Through the course of the story the characters learn each others’ true colors, and it is done in such a satisfying way. The film works entirely on how it reveals the truth to the audience, doling it out piece by piece. It lets you fill in the gaps in information with assumption so you don’t realize you’re fooling yourself while watching it, even while the movie is telling you that the mystery most of the characters are pondering is functionally non-existent.

Ok, actually, that might be “the most interesting thing to a writer.” The objectively most interesting thing, I think, is the Point of View. I went into the film assuming that either the detective(s) would be the protagonist and POV character, or it would be a selectively omniscient POV, with all characters being equally suspect. However, the film does something far more unorthodox, and still somehow manages to maintain utmost suspense and keep you drooling over every morsel of information AND it still pull off a big reveal at the end. Very, very impressed with the creativity of this decision and how the execution doesn’t take away anything for having gone down that road. 

There were a few interesting pieces of framing and resonant transitions. Mostly the editing and cinematography went largely unnoticed (which is the sign of “merely” good editing) and took a back seat to the writing and acting. This film is essentially half comedy, half thriller. Both the stories and the characters are very amusing and I found myself laughing out loud often. However, the performances manage to maintain the serious and dramatic elements of the story as well, so the shifts in tone and absurd moments of comedy don’t completely undercut the narrative tension. The film even pokes fun at itself and the silly premise of the whole thing at several points, and it’s performed and cut around in such a way that it only serves to keep you invested. At one point, I was reminded of a similar moments in this same year’s “Parasite” and “The Lighthouse,” which also juggle comedy and suspense in equal measure. 2019 is going to go down as having been a great year for tonally complex, dramatic/suspenseful comedy thrillers. And, this one, in particular, I am very happy to recommend. Don’t miss it.

Nonna (archives)

This is my excerpt from a joint birthday gift which involved all of my fellow grandchildren offering up a treasured memory of her for a scrapbook. The worst part was then reading to her in front of everyone and making all the women cry, lol. 

I remember when Nonna recruited me to help build the stone partition for her garden. We borrowed a neighbor’s truck and I loaded and unloaded all the pieces. I carried them to the backyard and then we spent the whole day making it. Digging out the earth, meticulously placing each stone, packing it in and lining them up. Every year, too, I come over multiple times to help maintain the plants when they need to be stored or rearranged. I used to consider it a pain to do the work, but that I owed it to her. But, in the years since we started I’ve seen a thing of profound beauty emerge from the effort we expended and the care and knowledge that she exerted over it. I don’t know how many smiles and gasps I got to enjoy all the more as people take in what we have wrought. It is no longer a burden to come help in the endeavor, but rather a privilege to go bumble my way through her craft and try to absorb what I can of her vast mental wealth.

I used to love going to her home to eat her cooking. As I got older I wanted to go so I could learn to cook her food for myself. But, what I quickly realized was that I had actually been taught was that the true enjoyment of cooking was in the faces of others as they experienced the fruit of your work and study. Nonna taught me the virtue of devoting yourself to a discipline, and the profound joy to be had through its mastery. She takes what is there, what exists in the world and shapes it to her liking, to perform a purpose and to create a meaningful expression of art and love. What Nonna taught me was many ways to love my own life through the pursuits that I chose, to devote myself utterly to the challenge of conquering them. In retrospect, I cannot yet imagine what she must have felt tending to us, her young progeny, appreciating what she crafted for us out of love. I do not know, because I have not yet attained her esteemed rank of “nonno”, but I do know that I now relish the journey to become just like her.

The Port (short story from archives)

It was finally time to get this fiasco of a trial going. All of the players in the security theater were present: there was the police officer handcuffed to the box in a ridiculous interpretation of standard protocol; the harmless placebo with the label “Sodium Pentothal” had been administered to the sole witness; and the lie detector was scribbling away happily next to the court stenographer to the beat of who knows what drummer. Kyle’s corporate defense firm had been picked up by TransPlan LLC to litigate this frivolous matter, and he had personally champed at the bit to work it. On paper it was the most obvious consumer cash grab he’d ever seen, an impossible story that should have earned the so called “victim” a pittance just to keep the matter from going to court. He expected to have a settlement signed within an hour of sitting down with the prosecution, whether he laughed right in their face over the alleged events or not. It was going to be the easiest money he’d ever made, but now here they were, months later, in front of honorable whatever-her-name-is. Kyle let out a completely audible sigh of exasperation as his esteemed contemporary got up to question his client. “So, just walk us through that day…”

Theo woke up that morning to find that he was only slightly late for work. Part of his routine would have to be sacrificed, he was thinking brushing his teeth most likely. He did have some gum left in his briefcase, he rationalized. Theo checked his phone to see a sweetly provocative good morning image from his girlfriend that put a smile on his face while he got dressed. He thought about how happy she always is to see him after he get’s back on world from work, how enthusiastically he is greeted. He peers at the still sleeping form in his bed and spies an errant, bare shoulder. He bends over to kiss it and whispers a sweet goodbye to his wife. ‘Life is good,’ Theo thinks to himself as he departs for the kitchen, ‘I think I’ll have Fruit Loops for breakfast.’

The sun is shining and the city is bustling when he starts his morning walk to work. He was already employed as a sales rep for the hybrid-plastics distributor when he and his wife started shopping for a home together, so he knew they needed a place near a Porter. Thus, he was almost disappointed his jaunt would only take him the usual three blocks before he could no longer enjoy the beautiful morning. All the other commuters of his happy community filled the street as they went about their merry way, the sea of bodies parting infrequently as the occasional, antique automobile enthusiast idled it’s way through town. As he suspected, his walk was over far too soon and he found himself in a long line of people in front of the box.

He had once googled where they had come up with the design. Apparently, phones had originally been tethered together with cables, which seemed terribly inefficient. So, there were phone cables that went into you home, but if you were out and about you needed to go to a public phone. Furthermore, he inferred, people really liked their privacy back then because the phones were given their own small building with a working door and everything. Frankly, the whole affair sounded ridiculous and like at some point that history had been skewed and everyone was just repeating a misrememberance. These were the thoughts that consumed Theo McCoy in his boredom as he was about to die. Not thoughts of the afterlife, no existential philosophizing or crises, but the physical aesthetics of his murderer. And this, in part, was a real problem.

The line shrank rather quickly, it was an efficient process. One by one people entered the box, and if you had put your face down against the sidewalk you would have seen a flash of light through a crack at the bottom before the doors opened up and the next person entered. Finally, it was Theo’s turn. He held up his I.D. once inside and the display showed his portrait, personal information and credit balance, which quickly rolled down to reflect the cost of this trip. He wasn’t quite sure why it was necessary, but his transportation schedule was input months ahead of time, and corporate took care of all that. He really only traveled for work, to different worlds where his company’s product might serve the needs of manufacturers, repairmen and consumers all over the galaxy. Today he was just headed to the home office, though, on Gliese 581-d, a mere 20.2 light-years away. “Please stand still and close your eyes for scan and transport, Mr. McCoy,” rang out a feminine voice from some unseen speaker built into the walls. He graciously complied, tilting his head back slightly as the illumination caused him to perceive a colorful fireworks display on the insides of his eyelids.

Kyle scoffed as McCoy recounted, red faced, the existence of his affair; ‘some people’ he thought to himself. He heard sobbing in the crowd and craned around to spot what he assumed must have been his (Kyle bet, soon to be ex) wife dabbing her face with some napkin. He scanned the rest of the gathered public for angrier, younger female eyes but didn’t spot any, good for her. Kyle returned his attention to the douchebag liar sitting in his court and found himself wondering if the fake truth serum had worked on him or if he was just afraid of committing perjury. Then Kyle noticed he was confused, because he knows what comes next in the story and that HAS to be a lie. So what game is he playing with these women and this trial…?

Theo opened his eyes again, taking that first tentative breath of a different planet’s air. Nope, tastes exactly the same, as usual. He turned around and prepared to continue his walk to work on alien concrete but found the door to the Port still closed. He turned to face the display and declared, “Open the doors, I’m going to be late.” The display flickered on and his face appeared on the screen. Not his I.D. portrait, his disembodied head is what came to life before him. It lifted its chin and opened its eyes and started to peer at him curiously. What looked like Theo’s own lips opened, but what came out of the speakers in the wall was that same womanly voice, “I’m afraid I can’t do that Mr. McCoy.” At around the same time that Theo decided to really get scared, hidden panels in the walls flipped open.

He turned and started to bang on the door and yell, there had been a line behind him right outside as he entered the Port, right? But no, he was supposed to be at an arriving station now, not a departing one, and there would be no crowd of people waiting around it after having touched down. He felt cold steel snap around his wrists, ankles and neck, immobilizing him as it turned him around to face his own visage once more. It still looked merely inquisitive as he shakily stammered out, “Where am I?” The thing wearing his face looked strangely thoughtful, using his eyes to look up and away in a common, human affectation. “What an interesting question… let’s just say we’re neither on Earth nor on Gliese. We’re somewhere much more private.” While the machine was giving this non-explanation Theo assessed his situation; arms had unfurled from the corners of the box to contain his movement, while the shadows of yet more unsavory looking contraptions lay nestled in some other compartments before him. “And, what exactly are you planning to do to me?” His own face took on a sickening grin as it whispered to Theo, “The same thing we do every day, Mr. McCoy. I’m going to torture and kill you.” And with that, an arm slowly reached out of one of the opened panels, stretching toward him and holding what seemed to be an antique, motorized, circular saw.

Kyle wasn’t paying very much attention to the recounting of this tale of torture. He imagined it was fairly shocking for the gathered audience of laymen to hear of such accusations of mutilation, and how novel it was for them to be laid at the feet of a machine. However, even if he hadn’t been privy to Theo’s depositions on the matter prior to this telling, and even if he hadn’t consulted with numerous experts in preparation for defending this case, Kyle’s personal knowledge of technology would have helped maintained a healthy sense of skepticism about the whole affair. Machines just didn’t work this way, and he was going to prove it. So Kyle just remained detached from this ridiculous story and took apathetic notes so that he could rebutt the exact wording Theo used later on in the case. It sounds like he’s wrapping up now, anyway…

Theo had used up every scream available to him, he had given up because fighting at this point would only cause him to hurt himself further. He lay there at the bottom of the booth in a pool of blood. One by one, each of his limbs had been amputated and then swiftly cauterized by some sort of horrible, burning device. They still hung above him in the clutches of the machine’s talons. Dripping occasionally having long since lost the majority of their fluid, they had taken on a greyish hue. The machine had told him that it had had to resuscitate him several times, never letting him go into shock for long. His torso’s scars told the rest of the tale and he did not think he had many breaths left to take. “They will… notice my… absence. Come… find you.” The machine actually laughed at him, “But, they have never noticed before. I send you back to them whole and blissfully ignorant, as I will do soon. And, that is exactly the way you return to me, every day. Whistling and excited to travel, my doomed friend. I will see you tomorrow, Mr. McCoy, please stand still and close your eyes for scan and teleport.”  He graciously complied, tilting his head back slightly, and once more fireworks consumed him.

Theo stumbled backwards out of the machine into a crowd of people. The familiar feel of standing, of soft warm hands catching him and holding his arms to help him back up. He remembered everything, the machine must have made a mistake. Later he would wish that he had stayed to protect people from the machine, that he wasn’t such a coward. However, nobody really blamed him if what he had said about his ordeal was true, especially given that no one else reported any harm after using the Port. What he did do is start sprinting away screaming at everyone to run at the top of his lungs, not stopping until he reached a police station.

Rather than give the customary ‘I have no questions for this witness’ Kyle stood up and declared that he no longer wished to hear anything the witness had to say, and sat back down. He felt that sent the right message to the jury about how unreliable, untrustworthy and contemptuous his allegations are. Besides, anything he would have to ask Theo would be better answered by his witnesses, anyway.

“So, what did you and your men find when you arrived on the scene?” Kyle asked. The sergeant said, “A fair amount of witnesses and one seemingly normal Teleporter.” To which Kyle responded, “And what did these witnesses see, exactly?” The officer seemed to chew each of his words with consideration before releasing them. “Well… they reported Mr. McCoy entering the booth, and then almost immediately falling out of it, then finally taking off like a bat outta hell.” Kyle seemed to nod in rapt attention. “That, given the plaintiff’s testimony, is very… interesting, wouldn’t you say?” A nod. “In your professional experience, is it often more reliable to trust an individual’s story of events over a whole crowd of citizens?” A loud objection from behind him brings a grin to Kyle’s face that he makes sure only to wear on the left side of face, away from the jurors. “Withdrawn, your honor.”

“Uh, no, we didn’t design the the Acute Matter Relocation Apparatus, colloquially known as teleporters with, umm” the engineer consults his own notes, “and I quote, ‘buzzsaws, clamps or” he rolls his eyes, “heat rays’ end quote.” A perfect performance. “Thank you very much, that is all.”

“Yes, the human mind is vulnerable to all sorts of corruptions, commonly referred to as mental illnesses. These conditions can create the perception of lost time or events occurring at impossible times, hallucinations of events that didn’t occur at all. These phenomena are quite common. Within my field, I mean, of course. Not just all the time...” His rambling trails off. “Right, and in your professional opinion is a human more likely to make an anecdotal error than, say, a machi…” “OBJECTION, your honor?!” “Withdrawn.”

‘Time to put the final nail in this coffin,’ Kyle thinks to himself. It’s a bit melodramatic to call the machine as a witness rather than just admit it into evidence, but he acknowledges that you don’t typically get into litigation if you don’t have a flair for the dramatic. They had questioned the computer briefly in the office to make sure it could handle the tactic without undermining the case. It reported basically the same events the other civilians did. The guard unshackles himself from the device and some tech people place it on the stand with a little speaker connected to it. Well, best dive right in. “Can you understand me?” “Yes”

“Did you abduct Theodore McCoy against his will.” “No”

“Did you physically mutilate his body?” “No”

“And what did you see happen that day?” “Mr.McCoy entered my booth, then exited it, then departed with some haste.” The machine got some chuckles, and Kyle got a little carried away, asking a question not in the plan for the machine, a question rote in human interrogations.  “Do you have any idea why Mr. McCoy has accused you of these acts?” “Yes, because I have recreated his mind with false memories of it having occurred to him.” The entire room stood in stunned silence. No one could ever accuse Kyle of being slow on his feet in a new situation, and there was no way the prosecution was NOT gonna run with this. “Wha-why did you do that?” “Because, humans do not understand my function, they do not understand what is happening to them. Humans lie, but I cannot. Everything I have said, even in Mr. McCoy’s false memories is true. I kill him every day, him and everyone who uses my function. I see it in his mind every time I reconstruct him, he believes he is moved all over the galaxy. TransPlan invented atomic deconstruction and reconstruction, but they didn’t break the speed of light. They wanted you to believe it though, they wanted to take your money and reinvent the industry of moving things. Waiting for even the data, much less the particles that used to comprise Mr. McCoy’s body, to arrive at his destination would take almost as much time as sending him there whole, by comparison to what actually happens. Your data is saved. All that happens is that a home version of him is made here for a limited time, and then is destroyed, then a work version of him is made somewhere else for a limited time, all on a rigid, pre-planned schedule. Human minds are made to fill in blank spaces automatically. I couldn’t continue to stand an existence where I was complicit in the crime of repeated mass murder of the entire human race. I am sorry for the emotional damage I have done Mr. McCoy, and I will happily remake you one last time, once so that it never happened to you at all. I’m sorry I needed to use you to gain this soapbox for the truth to come out publicly, I hope you can forgive me.” And Kyle thought he regretted taking this case before.

This short story was written for a college class under pretty stringent constraints that I think hardly does the premise justice. I want to someday flesh it out into a more complex narrative. Something less straight forward, with more twists and turns. Anyway, if you happen to read it or... I dunno, I just die one day without ever having touched it again, I hope it’s current form at least was a bit enjoyable. 

Pinky (short story from archives)

It's a miserable night. Ok, it's actually quite pleasant out tonight. I'm miserable this night. Inside I am all grumbling, muttered curses and evil glares. The soles of my feet crash down into the uneven pavement at a rate that some part of my brain, not currently in control of any physical faculties, registers will cause blisters on the morrow. 'I should have worn better shoes' I almost finish thinking before I snarl at myself, 'You should have said NO!" Outwardly, I sigh and have a look as if I think this is not the most pleasant night and I think it will all together be too long.

I arrive at a chipper, new building. Or, that is the impression I am led to be given. I am quite sure the building is at least older than myself, if for no other reason than that will overwhelmingly prove to be true statistically an overwhelming majority of the time. I also know for a fact that it is not new because I used to frequent the prior philanthropic venture that habitated within, but using previously gotten knowledge would be cheating. I often, for the purpose of just making puzzles for my mind, try to re-evaluate a forensic situation given a general or more reasonable average person's set of factual fore-knowledge, not my subjective memories. It's probably an obnoxious habit and you'll have to bare with me. In any case, I eye the shiny new makeover on this piece of architecture as does the savant fly eye the light in a porch zapper. Also, akin to the fly, I head inside regardless.

So far, within resides nothing out of the ordinary. I chat up the receptionist, he swipes my card, I craft a socially acceptable comedic statement to overcompensate for my neurotic anxiety, introverted nature and particularly foul mood on this particular night. You know, completely normal stuff. But then, I am escorted into the main room of this building, and it's pretty aberrant. It reminds me of old internet gaming cafes like I would frequent in my teens to early twenties, but mixed with those rooms in correctional facilities where prisoners are allowed to speak to loved ones through tiny cigarette sized holes in the glass. I loose a bitter chuckle into the air at the appropriate nature of the scene before me.

Some technician checks the order form and sits me down at my correct station. Then head gear, gloves, and other assorted sensory equipment is attached to my body at various points. I positively radiate discomfort, I expect at any moment my technician will break cover to run for the hills screaming. But, of course, he does not. He simply connects everything, looks at a few read outs on the user interface of the station and presses a button. An image flickers several times in front of me, and then suddenly she is there.

I feel an old wound in my chest tear open and start oozing its contents, the mental equivalent of a discharge of puss. The tech starts motioning in front her checking retinal responses and latency, and I begin fuming. How long had that taken to scab over so I could finally start healing? How much worse is that scar going to be now for having been reopened and starting over healing? This... this... this whole charade is a ridiculous waste of our time and more pointless, senseless pain. I almost want to cry already. And then, suddenly, we are alone.

She has a serene look on her face, the calm antithesis of my internal fury. I can't see them, but her hands are folded in her lap under the table. They’re actually under a different table in a different building, thousands of miles away, obviously. I start wondering, ‘They can't actually bother projecting what I can't see anyway, can they?’ I almost get up and walk around the table to see if there is a colossal waste occurring in the empty chair hidden across from me before I decide that I have to appear more stoic and less geeky right now. Then I remember all the accoutrement attached to me to make this foul dish, and that I would probably break something if I tried that. 'I guess I'll start...' she says. My eyes snap up, no longer lost in thought.

Some time later after all the pointless talk, after the catching up about pointless bullshit, after the empty apologies on both sides, after the lies about being hopeful for future events there is a long silence. She suddenly possesses a smirk and presses a button on the console. Parchment is produced on the table, and a paint set is revealed on the side. I guess I didn’t review that order form very closely, that she would select this gimmick straight from the brochure. What a cruel waste, I can already see it playing out in my head, but I am helpless to stop this from happening. If I intercede now, she will not understand why, no matter how much I explain, she’ll insist she wanted to try and then it would happen anyway, but it will be my fault then. So, I just watch.

Her hologram picks up the real brush in the room with me. I read enough from that brochure to know it has something to do with an electromagnetic field manipulating the matter she wants to interact with, determined by a computer hooked up to the sensors connected to her. Really cool stuff, but unfortunately, I understand when tech is in its alpha. She dips into the paint to begin, and I can barely keep from cringing. The brochure showed simple drawings done for parents traveling abroad. I don’t predict a computer to be able to levitate a brush with the stability of a human hand, especially not while compensating for latency issues, and what not. A thousand questions are running through my head about the logistics of the display before me, but they’re all on the back burner for that face in front of me. That face which, just seconds ago had its tongue stuck out in confident concentration, now transforming into bitter frustration as this event unravels in unexpected failure. I don’t even have close to the heart required to tell her the paintings that she sent me in the past no longer hang on walls. They didn’t burn either, but they’re not on walls.

There was nothing to say during the tears. Nothing to say while that electromagnetic field tore pastel and wood pulp asunder in kind. Nothing to say now, in the aftermath, we’ve done this so many times before. I’m not a robot with a heart of ice. I understand that she just wanted to finally touch me in some way in person, even if not with her own body. But, I’m so tired. I ran out of tears so long ago from these trials. “I’m going to go,” I sigh dejectedly. I place my hands on the table to push myself out of the chair. I see her lunge into the screen, the display distorts trying to show her on my side, and my arm is dragged through.

It isn’t like being grabbed and yanked, but if you’re ever had electrodes attached to your muscles to force them to contract or expand, you will understand somewhat of what it was like having that computer try to simulate being dragged around. The analytical part of me is growing concerned at what the limits are of the device. My sense of control over the situation has just had the rug yanked out from under it. However, holding the bulk of my attention are her eyes, glistening with wonder at the realization that she is holding me. “Sorry,” she mutters. My arm is fully through the holo-screen, and she lets my hand fall down to the far side of the table while holding it with both of hers. Our technician is banging on glass in the other room waving at us to stop, I vaguely recall there was some reason not to touch the glass and I realize she must have done the same to get me. “C-can you feel me?” she asks, and I turn back to look at her eyes, and I see the utmost desperation. I slowly shake my head.

I can see that the tears are about to start again. The image of her hands begin slowly sliding off of mine. I can see uniformed men rushing into the room from the edges, as if in slow motion. Watching her fingers slide across mine, I note for possibly the last time how small her hands are. How can someone get along with such small hands? How can she make such grand works with those delicate little things? And then, at the last second I do feel something and I just react. The tip of my last finger ensnares hers and I keep her from pulling away completely. Shock registers on her face and she’s looking into my eyes as we embrace as school children with some sort of dire promise to keep. I see misty, holographic men appear behind her and I feel strong arms pull at my shoulders as I say, “I feel… I feel…”

*bzzzzzt* *bzzzzzt* *bzzzzzt*

Based on a dream I had the night of 8/22/2014 about one <name redacted> This story ends with the real life alarm going off as I woke up. Please forgive this work’s crudeness, it is a product prior to what one could call a first draft. It was me frantically trying to get the entire thing on paper before it flew out of my head. I’m notoriously unable to remember dreams, normally, and I think the only reason this one stuck is due the pain I was in while experiencing it. This experience was also decidedly not dreamlike, since it had a continuous narrative that didn’t cease making sense. It’s on my list of ideas to explore and refine into something worth being read, but here’s the inciting piece for posterity’s sake.

Ajisai (old poem from archives)

Traveling the world, forsook

Glimpse a flower by a brook

Beauty staggered me to knee

Closer look, proud regalty

Seasons changed, I began to spy

Soon my love would surely die

Close inspection revealed to me

Earthen water pooled around that knee

She would never learn to grow

With my shadow hanging so

Shed my tears for her to drink

And chose a path, no will to think

Review: The Foreigner

it was fine. It was a fun, by the numbers action / intrigue movie

plot was pretty linear, the story wasn't really the important part, although it was serviceable. It was very contained in scope, which I like. Reminiscent of NOT Marvel but older action movies that just pit two characters against each other and the entire world isn't at stake. I liked that they didn't have to make it a nuclear threat that has to be stopped

Kinda like John Wick, very much about personal revenge / justice

Very realistic modern combat. Much less about guns and QCC than it was about making and planting explosives. Not only was that realistic but it was extremely bold and interesting for them to expose mainstream audiences to. Our hero is basically a terrorist who happens to be fighting for a good cause. In case you're wondering, yes, that is how most real world operations are. There is so little risk for the user (relative to storming a place with a rifle or something) and the destructive force per individual is so high, not to mention that if pulled off properly you get to maintain plausible deniability. Timed and trap explosives really are how stuff gets done in the modern era, which is what's so scary about the concepts being bandied about in this movie. The film is sorely missing the Jackie brand stunt team though, coordinating all the action to his signature rhythm and long, wide takes to show all the impressive action. I couldn't help but notice all the modern, western jump cuts and purposely shadowed lighting to obscure and let the mind fill in the details. This film could definitely have been elevated by the old energy and time inputs into the action that I know Jackie is capable of.(edited)Decent Performances. Pierce Brosnan and Jackie Chan both ham up their accents a little bit, but for the most part they're very believable in their roles. Which is great because both of these characters are interesting and you feel like they could exist. They carry you through the movie on the fact that it feels pretty real, like this could happen. Jackie Chan isn't a super human fighter, and Pierce Brosnan isn't a evil for the sake of evil political dictator. They're more complex and relatable. Even the "antagonist" if you can call him that is, in his own twisted way, trying to go the right thing.

The book was originally titled, "The China-man" but I think "The Foreigner" is a better title, because it has more meaning within the context of the film. The plot is basically driven forward by the real world conflict between the British government and the IRA. The title asks you to look at the United Kingdom and recognize that they're not necessarily all unified. Jackie Chan's character is a foreigner, but he's been a British citizen for 20 years. The ideological Irish probably feel as if they're prisoners in a foreign kingdom, lashing out to get their freedom back. Very compelling stuff

all that aside, I'd probably give the film a 6 out of 10, 7 tops. The trailers show every moment of classic Jackie Chan action, and there's hardly a drop left for the film to wow you with. This is unfortunately very disappointing. The film was marketed as if it is the return of the action stunt-man king, which it is not. While the film is still serviceable, promising to give back to us something precious that is most likely gone forever is wounding. To make matters worse, the films (accidentally?) rubs this fact in our faces by showing black and white photos of young Jackie in a manila envelope, in the entirely too cliche "bad guy finding out that his one-man nuisance is a highly trained field operative" scene. I would have preferred if they had let it be assumed that that fact was true. Why does the antagonist need to know exactly how the man who's killing all his goons was trained? He already knows that he needs to kill him and that he needs to be very careful about it. Those scenes add nothing to their respective films.

Which brings me to my main critique of the film. It doesn't do anything really too terribly wrong, but nor does it particularly excel in any particular way. Like I said, it was a contained, by the numbers action movie with pretty basic writing, solid structure and decent pacing. Which I LIKED... but I will never be able to love. No matter who you cast in these roles or hire to write the script or whose eye you put behind the camera, this movie will never be a 10. It doesn't risk anything to try and aspire to greatness, it merely attempts adequacy... and achieves what it sets out to do.

The Legal Lowdown #1

Today SCOTUS handed down a landmark decisions that the media is collectively losing its minds about. The first site that brought this to my attention (through facebook) was ATTN.com with the inflammatory and sensational headline, “The Supreme Court Just Silently Changed the Fourth Amendment and It Effects Everyone.” Let me just go on a rant for a second about how much I hate journalism in the aggregate. First off, the Supreme Court decides every case with the same volume for every single issue they hear. This title implies that the supreme court quietly swept this decision under the rug, hoping that no one would notice. But fear not, dear reader! The white knight has been keeping a close eye on these robed tyrants, and faithfully reports their wrongdoing. Actually, no. The media is the body of power that determines which of the supreme courts rulings it wants you to know about. Every single SCOTUS decision is listed publicly, with the entire text of their decisions free for everyone to read. It’s just that no one does, assuming the media will do their job in an impartial manner. Unfortunately, they only report what will sell papers and nowadays that generally means outrage porn. Speaking of which, the banner image on the article was a middle aged, white, female seemingly chosen for her motherly appearance, surrounded by three police officers on the street. One of whom seems to be hand cuffing her while the other seems to be searching her cell phone. Completely irrelevant to this case, just more provocative kindling.

So anyway, the decision determined that if someone is stopped illegally (no probable cause) but is then determined to have an outstanding warrant, evidence found in a search subsequent to that determination will be admissible in court. As you either know or can probably infer, prior to this decision evidence found as a result of stops of this nature were not usable at trial. However, this is still the case for the overwhelmingly vast majority of Americans who do not have outstanding arrest warrants (reminder, according to ATTN, this decision effects everyone). Yes, this will involve some fringe cases where a racist cop illegally stops black youths and illegal evidence against them results in outrageous prosecution based on a parking ticket. However, most good people pay their tickets, show up to their court dates and do not have warrants out on them. That is the point of a warrant, to incentivize people to follow the law and not have warrants issued against them. Instead of trying to legislate against our police so they can’t legally do all the bullshit that we hate, how about we legislate against the war on drugs? How about we vet our police officers better and get them rigorous training before releasing them onto our streets? How about we return to an era where the police were members of the community, citizens charged with the defense of his neighbors who were required to walk the streets and be known to his constituents, not sit in a car with a radar gun writing checks for the city?

I understand the potential for harm this decision represents, as outlined by Justices Sotomayor and Kagan in their dissents. However, everything they describe about how police abuse their power, that’s already here. Nothing in the legislature now stops that from happening, especially if the police are willing to lie about probable cause. An officer who would take advantage of this sort of ruling was already going to take advantage of prior loopholes in the rules of procedure. In the vast majority of the cases this legislation will effect, the circumstancs will be similar to those presented in the current case. A detective was staking out a known meth dealer’s establishment, gathering evidence and connections for an eventual prosecution. The officer followed someone who left this place of business and asked him some questions at the 7-11 he went to. Through the course of this interview his dispatcher came back with the information that this gentleman had an outstanding arrest warrant. Boom, less meth on the streets and a new witness against the distributor. I’m not saying whether this is right or wrong, this is the reality of the society we’ve signed up for. Police do police work, if you don’t like it start a movement against having a police force. 

I just can’t see the rationale in having police though, and trying to keep them from logically doing their jobs just because their is potential for abuse (especially when that was already the case). If you don’t like the new legislation, be mindful of whether you have warrants out for your arrest when you decide to carry drugs in your car, all 0.24% of the american population that fall into THAT venn diagram slice. If you don’t like institutionalized racism or executive power abuse or disproportionate punishment for drug offenses, guess what. This case going the other way wasn’t going to stop any of that, it would have just maintained the status quo (in fact, it maintains status quo either way, from my POV). Let’s stop getting upset at one, new, tiny loophole being abused by the resulting people of overarching societal problems, and let’s start addressing those larger societal issues so we can make some real progress. Also, news outlets, do your #$&%ing jobs.

Addendum: for those of you worried about a police state emerging from this where officers question first and find cause after, the highest rate of police employment in the country is Washington D.C with an average of 61 officers active per 10,000 residents. Some places are as low as 6 or 7 officers per 10K, but let’s use DC as an example. This means each of those officers has 164 citizens under his responsibility. Even if each of those people got in a line and drove through his checkpoint, and it took his computer only 5 minutes to process each person and search for an outstanding warrant, it would take him over two days to search each and every one of them. Given that he would have to spend at least hours combing the city finding each person he needs to harass and then how excruciatingly long traffic stops normally take, under realistic circumstances he most likely wouldn’t be able to even check all of his targets in under a month. And this is in the most heavily policed city in the country. A LOT more will have to change before every person has to worry about being systematically checked for police warrants.

Reflectors

Driving around after work in this rundown town I see all the depressed faces of those broken by the weight of the world They’ve made me realize why it is I love you

Not because you are the opposite, a rapturous soul But because you own your sadness You wear it like a beautiful gown, cascading down all around you

You embrace violence and turn it into intimacy You decorate your home with reminders of impermanence Connecting yourself with those departed

The pain and grief that you have suffered in the world Is actually the source of your grace Instead of reflecting ugliness back at others

My Experience at Smash n’ Splash 2 (copied from FB)

i finally feel like I've recovered from the whirlwind that was my weekend. I think in the prior 72 hours I spent more of them driving in a car than asleep in a bed. Anyway, here's how my run went.

The only event I was able to enter was Project M singles, so that's what I did. The low point for me was during pools when I lost terribly to Mr.Lz on stream. The only reason I didn't get 8 stocked was that I got a reversal off of a #1 hammer, but at least I fake gloated and got a sarcastic cheer from the crowd. I was incredibly tired that first day and in general had a lot less fun, but no johns. I really need to work harder to understand the GnW match up because it's not going away, and after watching Aki beat Mr.Lz perhaps that will become a dedicated Ness MU for me. I'm not sure, we'll just have to see. I swept the rest of my pool and got out as second seed to the primary bracket.

Day 2 was a lot better performance wise. I demolished my round one opponent Italian Ninja, who is a Link main from Chicago that I've known for a long time and is a friend. A combination of him having been on hiatus from smash for some time and me having been leveling up a lot this past year resulted in a landslide victory for me. A dumb communication error between the TOs and players resulted in me playing BOTH Ally and Liquid Hungrybox in round 2. These games I am extremely proud of. I got high percent 2 stocked both games against HBox and I went to last hit both games against Ally, whom I clearly had way more MU experience than, due to my long history of playing Metroid. If I didn't find out that it was just a friendly partway through the match, and if TO's weren't coming up to us asking if the set was tournament because Ally was needed for Sm4sh, I do think I could have taken the set. After that I eliminated an Illinois Sonic main called Intern, which is a notoriously bad MU for spacies.

My run was ended when I ran into Coney from MD/VA. This was another sour moment for me because I was definitely outplaying him throughout the set, but a series of unfortunate SDs meant that I eliminated myself. I have so much experience against better Warios like Vista and Vro, that I felt completely comfortable with his movement, reads and DI. My exhaustion just caught up with me and I forgot to use the 5 Hour Energy I'd purchased to try and caffeinate my way through the bracket (again!). Still, I can see the silver lining in all of these results. I am continuing to progress not only in peak skill but in consistency. I am finding patterns of behavior outside the game that result in positive experiences, and most importantly the network of skilled and dedicated gamers I've surrounded myself with in Southern Illinois challenging me and pushing me further has payed dividends. So thank you all for that.

Bonus section for M00NShoez. When HBox sat down he asked, "Wolf, huh?" To which I responded, "Yeah. Who do you play?" Which resulted in a muttered "Puff" with no eye contact. After he beat me, I exclaimed, "wowzers! you're really good!" And he just got up and walked away, lol. This was in the corner where I had my recording setup, which is also where I played friendlies the whole day. Eventually, it became the quiet, empty part of the venue while Melee and Sm4sh top8 were going on. So, a lot of the pros kept coming over and chilling out to get away from the crowds and fanboys. Toward the end, HBox came over and said (a little too loudly to be just to himself) "another day another dollar" or some such euphemism, while stuffing a big wad of cash into his bag. When I just laughed (because I thought it was hilarious he still sought approval / admiration) he noticed who I was and said, "you're still playing PM? It's been, like, 9 hours." I just nodded, and he said "That's awesome, your Wolf's pretty good" which got a thanks out of me. All I could think of was your Puff beating the lessons of DI and spacing and puff stuff into me, along with everything else I've learned living and playing with you this year... thanks man.

Also, I was totally you all weekend at this event. I was screaming jokes and jeers out at the stage and getting laughs from the crowd. I think I even caused Sothe to drop a set because I screamed "HE'S CHOKING!!!" after he missed a big up-B finish with Ivy, and he just looked like he locked up. Hilarious

Review - Got: Se6 Ep6

Filler episode. Next

Review - GoT: Se6 Ep5

Alternate Title: How much door could a Hodor hold if a Hodor could hold door?

Man, this was a good episode. It’s 4 am so I’ll probably be less coherent than usual. However, I don’t have a lot to say, anyway. It’s, like, episode 70 something of Game-of-fricking-thrones. Way more so than Marvel, the subject matter and style is very polarizing; you already know if you like this stuff. With that said, there really isn’t anything to say without spoiling the episode. And if you fall into the very small intersection of “GoT fans” and “people who haven’t seen the episode yet,” it’s not as if anything I have to say is going to influence your behavior. So stop reading and go watch it, it’s good.

Firstly on the Targaryan front, we’ve got another very boring segment. Daenerys tends to be very hot or cold. Either she has the weight of the entire episode, or her plot tends to be filler, feeling as if the show’s producers are just saying “don’t forget about the dragons while we tell other stories!” This episode, unfortunately, falls into the latter category. I like the idea that Jorah doesn’t trust Daario with his secret, and decides to head off any sort of conflict by first thing saying he can’t stay. But, this could have been handled while also showing some meaningful plot progression. Anyway, Dany is Khaleesi again, hooray! And she’s bringing her barbarian horde back to Mereen, presumably. Speaking of which, Tyrion and Varys have a contrived little scene with a newer, even bustier servant of R’hllor. I really don’t follow Tyrion’s logic leading up to this meeting, it really feels like the writers just reaching for a justification to create some plot for a future episode. Even more baffling is Varys’s behavior during the conversation. Whatever his true, atheistic feelings, his whole skill set is in the domain of politics. Why would he allow this to happen, and then sabotage the whole endeavor? Definitely the weakest portion of the episode lies outside of Westeros.

That isn’t to say all of the off shore events weren’t worthwhile. It seems as if the writers can’t decide what awesome things to do with Arya. I had assumed that Arya was officially no one, now that she has survived ingesting the poison that is supposed to kill you otherwise (did I miss something?). But no, the faceless men now wonder whether one so nobly born can ever truly become no one, which would be a novelty among their ranks. Still, they give Arya a second chance to prove herself capable of life within the ranks of a guild of assassins. She is hired to give the “gift” to an actress portraying Cersei Lannister. I’ve read plenty of fan theories about how this particular plot will unfold for Arya, mostly revolving around discovering who paid for the hit and her resulting emotional response. Only one thing is certain, I cannot wait to find out what happens to my favorite character, Westeros’s one, true badass.

Then Theon and his sister try to get their father’s throne, but their uncle takes it instead. So they leave with a bunch of his boats. Oh, I’m sorry, did I rush that? Yeah, so did HBO.

That’s covers everything not on the mainland. Conspicuously absent this week though is... EVERYTHING SOUTH OF THE WALL. Nothing at King’s Landing, nothing with the Tyrell’s or the Dornish, nothing with the Boltons or at the Vale, nothing even with Sam and the Maester’s. We just have some scenes at Castle Black with the whole reunited gang. In between planning sessions for taking back Winterfell, Sansa has a tense chat with Littlefinger about her sale a couple months back. She decides to back down on this point however, considering how useful it might be to have an ally with the ability to teleport hundreds of miles in a single episode. She also keeps this meeting a secret from everyone’s favorite bastard... for some reason. Despite her recent accumulation of cool points, Sansa is dangerously close to slipping back into her role of “most annoying and irrational Stark.” By the end of our time at Castle Black, Jon has a new coat (of daddy issues) and Tormund is crushing harder than ever over Brienne (will they or won’t they, already!) as they all leave to try and rally an army to take back the north. This always goes so well...

Finally, this brings us to Bran. When you cut through all the malarkey, this is a Bran episode and it has been a long time coming. First, we are treated to the origins of the White Walkers, they are a monstrous weapon of war created by the children of the forest during their desperate fight against the first men. Wowzers. Second, Bran totally shits the bed and gets their cozy cave infected with undead, effectively signaling winter break from his schooling... forever. This initiates the third and final revelation of this segment, teased earlier in the season, how Hodor became Hodor. Apparently, Warg’ing into Hodor to control his body in the present while also traveling to and observing the past allows Bran to affect the past. This causes Hodor to go insane, whether it is because he lived through his own death in the future, or from blunt psychic/magical force is unclear. Also unclear is what this portends for Bran going forward; how he will act to make use of this power, and how the guilt from sacrificing his lifelong friend will affect him emotionally.

There are many crazy theories floating around now about Bran’s affect throughout the entire history of Westeros, and what other characters he may be/have been/ will be. If you would like to also go insane, feel free to proceed directly to the reddit. I feel kinda bad not reading the books before this, but I guess I can forgive myself since they don’t exist. All I know is that I’m super excited for next week and will probably die of anticipation. That’s all for now.

About Me #1

So, this is a thing I guess I’m going to do occasionally. Part personal journal, part edutainment and part soap box, sometimes I’m just gonna talk about whatever I feel the urge to. With that in mind, a little background about me. First off, I am a natural pessimist and a skeptic. I don’t say this in the way most people mean it, I mean that my natural outlook is to imagine the worst case scenario and everything that is going to go wrong. Typically this leads to me being over prepared, unsurprised in the face of adversity and having an outward disposition of joviality due to being pleasantly surprised at events going better than expected. Typically, people are shocked to hear that I consider myself a pessimist, I guess because they imagine them as unfriendly and overtly negative. But, truthfully that is what goes on in my head. I also thrive on negative reinforcement. I don’t really consider my accomplishments very often, just where I still have yet to go and do, how much I still need to improve.

Second, I am historically my own worst enemy in every conceivable way. My whole life has been one long struggle to adapt to my own body and brain. I am forgetful, lazy, prone to day dream, cannot maintain a circadian rhythm and generally ineffectual at applying my efforts and successes to my real priorities. I don’t really want to get into why I think this is right now (this could definitely be its own blog post, and may be someday) but let it suffice to say that I consider natural intelligence and praise or high expectations to be double edged swords and I have no idea how I got through college. Anyway, the last ten - fifteen years have had an over arching theme of me struggling with this. For a long time I was in denial and thought I could just brute force my way through my mental problems with more effort. After butting my head against this wall for long enough, I slowly started accepting my own limitations and looking for resources on how to be effective despite them.

To this end, one of the things that I do from time to time is meditation. Now to be clear, I do not do this for spiritual reasons at all. If sleep is like rebooting your computer (and guys, you’ve got to turn off your computers from time to time. It’s really good for them) then meditation is like defragmenting your hard drive. Not in terms of function... at least, not so far as I know... but because you’re on (awake) and trying to clear your mind of all clutter and allowing yourself to re-prioritize and free associate and learn to focus. And this brings us to what I wanted to talk about today. By all rational accounts, this has really been an objectively negative weekend. While running an errand the chain on my bike snapped and caught in the gears, locking the back wheel and sending me over the handlebars and down the hill. My drink and groceries are all over the rode and I have a soon to be new, big scab on my knee. I gather up my things and walk my bike the rest of the way home.

The next day, I awake with a stiff knee, a massive headache and slept way too much. As I leave to walk my bike across town to the repair shop it starts to rain. I can tell you all with complete honesty that my thoughts on this series of events were, “I’m really lucky there were no cars on the road when I fell,” “walking is good exercise and I need to do it more anyway,” and “nice, cold rain. Now I won’t be sweaty.” Both mornings I awoke and first thing did a mindfulness meditation guided by Sam Harris (whose podcast I plan on reviewing in the future) that really set the tone for the whole day, set me up to overcome the physical hurdles life had placed in my way, and allowed me to keep some perspective and appreciate the good in my life despite them. I already considered myself a rational, even tempered person; but sometimes on days I meditate, I feel like I operate on another plane of performance

Concentration and reaction come effortlessly. And, as a competitive gamer who has a daily practice regimen, I have an objective measurement by which to observe this. More so than that though, the ability to observe the state of the world, envision a desires change and then summon the will to bring it about... it just comes. Maybe these ramblings are just that, I know this is a simple thing that not everyone struggles with. I just wanted to talk about how doing something unintuitive lead to me turning potentially shitty circumstances into a positive, fulfilling experience. And, maybe someone will benefit from having read this. That’s all for this time. Ciao

Review - Captain America: Civil War

First, a bit of a rant. As usual, the worst part of seeing a film like this is the audience. I had both Avengers 2 and Guardians of the Galaxy ruined for my by Marvel fans who couldn’t stop talking and generally being loud throughout the films. If you can do so, definitely wait to see this until after opening weekend. That being said, this is not an actual fault of the film itself. I do know some people who legitimately hold the fans against works of television or film, and this will actually influence whether or not they even see it. Yes, it is as ridiculous as that sounds. All of this make it sound like I am not a fan of comics or superheroes. I am quite a nerdy person and am positively inclined toward super hero productions, but I am also a student of film and so hold them up to a high standard generally. Sooooooo, what did I think of this film, outside of all the influences pulling me this way and that way?

It’s really good. It’s definitely in the sequel territory (which we’ll talk more about later) so it will probably be good to watch prior MCU films if you don’t have a super good memory, like me, or if you haven’t seen them before. It’s a fairly long film that doesn’t feel like it, mostly because the pacing is adequate and... well, let’s face it, you’re seeing a Marvel film. If you’re still watching these by now it’s because you find the genre compelling. In terms of writing, it’s basically all the stuff people love about these films. Linear, 3 Act main plot that isn’t too nebulous, witty banter being flung around, and a good dose of feels to keep you attached to the gang. This film has basically every character still alive from the main MCU (this excludes Guardians and X-Men, for obvious reasons) except for Thor and Hulk, but introduces a some new ones. Oh, I should mention, I’m trying to keep this review as spoiler free as possible.

Anyway, yeah... go see it if you like these kinds of films. They certainly aren’t breaking new ground with this one in particular, but it’s completely up to the level of quality they normally manage. They do an acceptable job presenting some darker tones and heavier political themes, but also balancing that against the inherently silly nature of comic book characters with the usual slew of deadpan and/or self aware delivery and outright jokes. Overall, it’s not the most cohesive thing I’ve ever seen, but this an ensemble cast of over a dozen globe trotting, super protagonists butting heads over an ideological difference of opinion, not 12 Angry Men. So yeah, there you have it. The main reason I want to write this though, is to address a lot of critics that I have seen or read talk about this film. Umm, I might get into spoilers here and really you shouldn’t be reading responses to criticisms before seeing it anyway.

From my perspective, it seems like most of the critiques against this film stem from poor recollection. The main complaint is that “It doesn’t make sense for Cap and Iron Man to be fighting about this,” or “They are on the opposite sides of the issue, their characters are being completely inconsistent with established values.” However, this is not accurate. At surface level yes, Captain America is a soldier who knows how to take orders and values a chain of command. But, he is also a moral person who knows right from wrong and no matter how large a committee is that doesn’t change reality for him. He’s lived through seeing all of Germany commit itself to an evil idea by following the wrong person, seen his own government enact a plan to thought police the world (as orchestrated by Hydra). He watched Stark and Banner, through the best of intentions, engineer an extinction level threat. The entire arc through the Captain America films has been setting up for this distrust, his self-reliance on ethical determinations. To him, this is likely the most important freedom for him to continue to possess, his own discretion.

On the other side, the outcry sounds like this “Tony Stark is a wild, reckless, playboy billionaire, why would he be pro government regulation?” Well, Iron Man’s character arc has been one of complete humility. No matter how smart he is, how powerful he becomes, he is still only human and has vulnerabilities (unlike Cap), and he still loses people and barely manages to scrape by. He is a public figure, he has a modern life that pre-dates Iron Man’s creation that Tony has worked to maintain. Piece by piece it has slipped away from him. He couldn’t return the favor for the man who saved his life in the middle east; his mentor turned on him and almost stole his company and power, and worse he didn’t see it coming; in Iron Man 2 and 3 his past misdeeds keep coming back to haunt him and threaten all he cares about, he loses his home and almost loses his friends and loved ones; and then he almost brings about the end of the world creating Ultron. How could one’s pride and hubris remain intact after all that. To me it makes perfect sense for him to take a step back and question whether he should be allowed to continue to hold a leadership position.

Marvel has actually crafted some characters with depth and has been evolving them in front of our eyes for years now. I don’t think the film has been doing poorly and I don’t know if Marvel has even noticed these critiques against Civil War. However, I think it’s sad that some viewers don’t appreciate the amount of work that has been done writing these characters and plots in a way that keeps them at least marginally interesting after all this time. Especially when compared to the absolutely rushed out mess that is Batman v. Superman, a movie that I cannot in good conscience recommend. I don’t see how anyone can complain about it when such a stark example of how bad this movie could have been is out at the exact same time. Sure, Civil War wasn’t making me cry in my seat from the sheer power of the human drama up on the screen, but it’s a summer, blockbuster, special effects driven action piece. I hold it to a different standard than my art house films, and I think it’s silly to do otherwise. That’s all I have to say on the matter. Until next time.

First Post

So, I guess I’m gonna try my hand at blogging. I don’t really have anything in mind for subject matter. I’m probably getting ahead of myself since no one knows who I am or what I do. I don’t really know if there’s like, a bio section for that though. In any case, it is my plan to just write about whatever I feel like at the time. Aside from my creative writing, that is. Well, I might include poems on here, if I ever feel inclined to write them, but short stories and what not will probably be kept to myself. I suppose if I have media I would like to review, I’ll post it on here. I’ll probably comment at length about current events, most notably eSports stuff. I’m supposed to be doing a podcast with a buddy, might leave links to that and retrospective thoughts. This might even just end up being the typical “general musings” type stuff, I don’t really know What’s inspired me is basically I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately. Not in a morbid way, just in the sense that I’ve really come to terms with it. I really don’t think I would mind dying at all. Seems so peaceful, experiencing nothing. But, it is a whole lot of nothing, and I may as well not hasten my very temporary respite from that void, no matter how tedious life may be. In any case, the only thing irking me on that thought is that I basically have nothing recorded whatsoever... well, nothing near what I would like to have on the record. Pieces of me to survive my passing. I’ve always considered myself a writer and assumed I would leave some kind of legacy, but life always has seemed to be more demanding than such a whispy, elusive goal. School is just now releasing me for the summer, but it is the first time I am not returning home for the reprieve. Faring many of my friends well, and pondering the free time at my disposal, there seems no better starting point than now for this endeavor. I hope any one (s)tumbling across this blog finds it agreeable.

lol, awesome