I just wrote a book

In less than five minutes. Well, the premise to a book, but with a premise this strong, the book pretty much writes itself. Here it is, tell me what you think. (Be honest, but only if you think it's awesome.)

In a neo-noir one-way spaceflight, a young techno-obsessed geek stumbles across a time-traveling soldier which spurs him into conflict with a profit-obsessed corporation, with the help of a shape-shifting female assassin and her reference book, culminating in wish-fulfillment solutions to real-world problems.

You can write one too. Just go here. Or if you are really lazy and less concerned about the details of your book, go here. My favorite bad guy? Computer viruses made real. I don't know why, but that sounds like the coolest villain ever. How did they get real? What do they look like? What happens when they infect humans? (I didn't pick it for my story because I have an artistic hyphenated-word theme going on. It's a metaphor for the way the characters feel about each other, or something.)

Deep Blue

I walk in the cemetery, minutes after sunset. I watch the lightning over the Salt Lake Valley. The city lights slowly brighten as the wild sky darkens. It’s not a picturesque rolling thunder storm, with majestic hues of deep blue and purple. It’s a hasty smear across the sky, the color of a massive bruise. Like the one that covered half of my thigh the entire summer of 1994, after the fall down the water slide. Brown and black with a fleshy orange undertone from the lingering sunlight. Lightning flashes in quick bursts, behind the Wasatch mountains, above the ball park, over the lake. I hear no thunder over the pulsing bass of the The Suburbs.

I open a new google doc, to write this all down before I take a shower. I read last night’s document, my scripture journal, where I wrote about doubt and fear and starting on a new spiritual path. I re-read my self-assigned study topic from last night: to re-read the reaction of King Benjamin’s people after his prophetic address and ponder on my reaction to the “fear of the Lord [that] had come upon them.” Nine years ago my reaction to those verses had triggered my first true conversion to religion. I re-read it today and wonder what’s it like to know something wild or to truly feel fear.

You should read my sister's blog

Especially the most recent post. Here's the link to her blog.

Inception

I saw this on opening day and have been mulling over my response to it. I've read a large variety of reactions to the movie. Some think it's the best movie ever and several internet-crazy fandoms (are there any other kind?) dedicated to this movie and its characters have sprung up over night. Some feel an overwhelming desire to notify everyone to the movie's mediocrity and document, in detail, their profound personal disappointment. I have difficulty figuring out my own opinion in the face of such conflicting impassioned opinions.

It's an excellent summer action movie, but even that doesn't quite describe it. Either (1) action movies have become so crappy and lame that when we get a genuinely good action movie, it feels like the best movie ever; or (2) it isn't accurate to describe this as an "action" movie, it's really more of a "thriller." (See, according to my arbitrary movie classification rules, thrillers can be and often are much better than action movies. Action movies = chick flick. Thriller = serious drama.) I'm leaning towards option 1. I think the backlash to the film was that it was advertised as a mind-bending thriller, when really it's a well-made movie with excellent action sequences, an original plot and good acting. Nothing was particularly mind-bending, and very little was emotionally involving.

This conclusion doesn't mean I didn't like it. I liked it a lot, actually. And I can recognize that it has that mysterious element that makes a movie, book, or comic book so much more susceptible to fan hysteria. Twilight has it. Harry Potter has it. The Matrix has it. Maybe it's the fantasy element? Thinking about it now, maybe it's the promise an alternate reality existing right in our backyard. All we have to do is fall asleep (or wake up, or get an owl-delivered letter, or make eye-contact with the hot vampire in the cafeteria), and endless possibilities are open to us.

I feel like I'm rambling aimlessly, so here's a list of things I particularly liked, and a few things I didn't. (Warning: Spoilers ahead!)

Liked:

• The movie elicits audience participation, it leaves a little room for debate. The ending with top just starting to wobble was great.
• Joseph Gordon-Levitt and that entire no-gravity fight sequence.
• I liked the time difference between dream levels.
• Tom Hardy. Who is he and why has he not been in more movies?
• This movie is not a remake, prequel, adaptation, or sequel. It's actually a unique story, and an interesting one.
• The movie expects you to pay attention. It doesn't recap or dumb down. If they've said it once, they're done and moving on.
• The movie was complex, but not too twisty. No sudden shockers that make you re-evaluate everything you've seen already. I like twists, but in a movie this complex, I appreciated that it was fairly straight-forward. (Though I did spend the entire movie trying to predict how the rug was going to be pulled out from under me. Was Cobb the one really being inceptioned? Was the entire heist an elaborate hoax to steal something from Cobb's mind?)
  

Didn't like:

• The snow action scene. Skiing and guns? Meh.
• The reason for the inception felt kind of weak. I get why Leonardo DiCaprio went through with it, but all of those other people? To prevent an energy monopoly? Lame.
• The characters were all pretty flat. Even Leo. This is the second movie in a row that he's been grieving a dead wife. Speaking of which, out of the five Chris Nolan movies I've seen, four have the main character grieving over a dead love interest. Memento, The Prestige, The Dark Knight, and now Inception. (Five out of five if you count Bruce Wayne grieving over the loss of his parents, in Batman Begins.) If I were Chris Nolan's wife, I'd be slightly concerned.
• There were a few logic fails that I haven't been able to reconcile. In dream level 1 (the city in the rain), the fall into the water is enough of a kick, but the van flipping over isn't? Shouldn't Joseph Gordon-Levitt at least wake up at that point? If no gravity in dream level 1 means no gravity in dream level 2 (hotel), then how is there gravity in all the deeper levels? It's not as if there really was no gravity; they were in the airplane the entire time and were just dreaming that there was no gravity. None of these were really enough to take me out of the story, but when I'm discussing it afterward (as this movie demands that you do), I prefer a movie where everything makes sense, no matter how complicated the story.

I always underestimate how incredibly fun a great action movie can be. I really enjoyed watching this movie. I felt the same way leaving the theater after watching the most recent James Bond movies. It was an exhilarating ride that was immensely entertaining. I look forward to seeing it again.

Movie Review Catch-up

Toy Story 3 - The Incredibles is my most favorite pixar movie, but The Toy Story Saga (shut up, Twilight, you don't own that word) is a very close second. Mr. Tortilla Head was hilarious and creepy. (What is the essence of a person, really? Is he just a collection of parts? Would he exist if just one detachable body part remained? Can Mr. Potato Head really be Mr. Potato Head without the potato?) This movie is just as good as the other two.

Twilight: Eclipse - So hey, I actually kinda liked this one. Where has Jasper been all this time? He needs his own movie. And no Edward flashback? Boo. About that engagement ring: Jill knew a woman that was Stephenie Meyer's cousin's wife (or something) who made wedding rings that she claimed Stephenie Meyer approved as the "official" Bella engagement ring. It looked nothing like that giant sparkly egg. The woman Jill knew had to stop making them, by order of Stephenie's lawyers. Producing and selling that ring were her and her husband's primary source of income. Seeing an ad for Bella's "official" engagement ring made me wonder how awkward those family reunions must be. Would that woman's customers all demand refunds? Has she gone bankrupt? It made me wonder what it really does to a family to have someone become extremely famous. How many extended relatives expect to leach off of your success? What is your obligation to a distant relative who makes a living off of your work?

Back to the movie, it was entertaining and not nearly as cringe-inducing as I anticipated. It was also much better than Last Airbender.

The Last Airbender - This movie got beat up pretty bad by critics, but it's not as bad as they say it is. It's not good, but I was entertained and somewhat intrigued. The acting was Star Wars: Episode 1-3 level bad, but the story is interesting. I hadn't watched the cartoon before, so I could easily get distracted by plot. And I don't know why the critics are calling the movie "ugly"... I thought it was very pretty. But then they probably had to watch it in 3D and this was yet another movie that outsourced their 3D after the movie was finished. Quit doing that Hollywood! No one wants to pay MORE money for an uglier movie. If you see this, definitely see it in 2D.

Monday Morning Memory: 2nd Grade Trauma

For this Monday Morning Memory, I will recount my most traumatic memory from second grade, possibly from all of elementary school. Like most of my pre-adult traumas, the entire situation is blown out of proportion and largely my own fault. My teacher was Mrs. Noonan. My mom had written a note to excuse me from gym class - I had a little bit of a sore throat and a lotta bit of not wanting to do whatever activity was going on that day in gym class. I gave the note to Mrs. Noonan and she told me to remind her about it as we left for P.E., because she'd probably forget. We line up for P.E., and Mrs. Noonan seems to have forgotten. Here's my big moment. I'm standing in line, desperately hoping Mrs. Noonan remembers, knowing that I'm supposed to speak up and remind her. Anything involving "speaking up" was not possible for me at eight years old. So I walk to the gym with my class, knowing that the P.E. teacher (Mrs. Sychee) is expecting me to participate.

During that long walk to the gym, I grow increasingly anxious over my situation. What if Mrs. Sychee realizes I'm not in my gym shoes!? (Unlike my non-gym sneakers, my gym shoes had WHITE laces.) If I just participate, what if Mrs. Noonan realizes she forgot the note? She'll think I wasn't really sick! If I tell Mrs. Sychee the situation, she'll wonder why I didn't remind Mrs. Noonan. If I just say nothing, I'll have to participate in P.E. today! With a small sore throat!

We finally get to the gym and I have a fool-proof plan. See yesterday, one of the girls in the class had to sit out because she twisted her ankle. All I have to do is tell Mrs. Sychee that I hurt my leg (obviously I couldn't say ankle because that would be too obvious), and she'll let me sit out. I don't know why or how, but I was confident that would solve all of my problems.

Turns out saying "my leg hurts and I need to sit out" gets me sent to the nurse's office. Panic begins to set in. I try desperately to come up with some story to get me out of this mess, but by the time I get to the nurse's office, I just burst into tears. I confess everything. I'm sure I make no sense (how do you describe that problem in a way that makes sense?), and the nurse walks me back to my classroom to hand me off to Mrs. Noonan. Exasperated, she asks me why I didn't just remind her? Mrs. Sychee wants to know why I didn't just explain the situation? For the rest of the day, my answer to any question is to simply burst into tears. (This becomes my default coping mechanism for most elementary school "problems." Like that time I forgot my math book. Or the time my book order was delayed. And that time I didn't finish coloring in my worksheet.) Most traumatic day ever.

New Music: Albums

Enjoy some new (to me) music from albums I've recently purchased.

"Bloodbuzz Ohio"
from High Violet, by The National


"Dancing in a Minefield"
from Pins and Panzers, by Plushgun


"Wide Eyes"
from Gorilla Manor, by Local Natives


"Love Like a Sunset II"
from Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, by Phoenix


"Just Listen"
from Sirens of the Sea, by OceanLab

Prince of Persia and Karate Kid

I need to catch up on my movie reviews before I see Toy Story 3. (Yay! Toy Story 3!)

Prince of Persia - Imagine Pirates of the Caribbean without Johnny Depp. Sure, Jake Gyllenhaal is great (as is Orlando Bloom). But a movie like this really really needs a Johnny Depp (if not the Johnny Depp).Unsolicited spoilery feminist critique: Besides spectacularly failing the Bechdal-Wallace rule, any epiphany, experience, or character growth is stolen away from the only female character by the end of movie. Jake Gyllenhaal sands-of-times back to the beginning of the movie, and it ends with an arranged marriage planned between him and the only woman in all of Persia. The entire movie was spent showing that woman getting over her initial dislike and slowly falling in love with him. But none of that matters. She gets to marry a total stranger. Apparently, all that matters is that the man knows they were in love.

The Karate Kid - I have much less to say about this movie. It was predictable but cute. A tiny bit too long, but I enjoyed watching it.

Monday Morning Memory

Since I so enjoyed the little trip down memory lane regarding socks in the pool, I thought I'd share another random memory. Maybe I'll make it a thing: every Monday morning, post a random memory.

In 10th grade creative writing, I wrote a poem about a homeless man dying on a bench one winter morning. It was called "All But One." Every stanza ended with "all but one." It was fancy literary device, and I was quite proud out it. The last stanza told about how everyone woke up from their warm beds that morning. All but one. My friends thought it was so awesome, it made them all cry, and they demanded my teacher read it immediately. The next day, our lesson in creative writing was about avoiding sentimentality in writing. He urged us, at this stage of our writing at least, to avoid topics like dead babies, car accidents, and homeless people. The message didn't fully take, in high school I wrote stories about a girl's mom who had an affair then died, an old woman who sat alone in a sad corner forgotten by her family, and two kids who almost died as a direct result of defacing a haunted tree. But I have never written another poem or story about a homeless man.

Jellies

Remember jellies? Apparently, they are back in.

The pink ones were always the best, followed closely by clear.

Of all the silly clothes from my childhood, I'd have never guessed these would be back in. Jellies were my official pool shoes. Now, I realize that most people do not wear shoes in the pool. But my mom was weird. She insisted we not go barefoot in the pool, lest we blister up our feet on the rough cement pool floor. My grandma's house in Idaho had a pool, and every summer vacation was spent there. So every summer, it was either socks in the pool, or jellies. For a few summers, we actually did have to wear socks, because our other shoe options were not waterproof. (But socks are?) Try swimming in a pair of socks. It doesn't work. The socks do not want to be worn in pool, so they will slowly roll off of your foot. Socks, you see, are reasonable. They realize it is ridiculous to be worn in the pool. Or maybe they think they're in the washing machine and are obeying their natural instinct to separate and be lost forever. Or maybe they have no human qualities at all. We'll never know. What I do know is that jellies were the far superior footwear for swimming.