A Peaceful Sort of Melancholy

I'm in a strange mood tonight, likely influenced by lack of sleep and natural sleep supplements and a pair of replacement iPod headphones piping in the music I'd hoped would help me drift off, to no avail so far.

I have loved music as long as I've been hearing it, which likely began while I was still in the womb. I was steeped in it, raised to adore it, I learned to breathe it in.

Now, I am no particular scholar of musical theory, I have only a very rudimentary ability to read it in sheet form, and while I love singing above many, many other hobbies, I've existed in the midst of several people who do it significantly better than I do (though when that twit at the TAC office told me she was trying out for American Idol, I think I actually sneered at her. She was fucking awful. And she liked country music, which I can never understand). And I'm fine with that.

But I was discussing this with Oz the other day, and I thought it'd be interesting to rant about in my current state. I've noticed that there is a particular type of song which always seems to affect me, regardless of the mood I was in when I started listening to it. This type of song is melancholy and brooding, and its dark, sweet tone overrides the often truly disturbing lyrics, until you find yourself muttering them later under your breath, and someone looks at you like they suspect you have a bomb strapped under your clothes.

Okay, that might be a bit exaggerated.

There are a couple of songs in particular which come to mind immediately when I consider this phenomenon. The first is the very widely known and redone "Mad World," in which the melodious combination of keyboard and violin disguise the sadly honest chorus line, "I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad/The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had." I suppose we could get philosophical and side with some of the big names in claiming that we're all dying slowly every day, in which case this line takes on a brand new meaning. However, at face value (without this theory staring us in the face, that is), set in the already calm and melancholy song, the line takes on a kind of depressing tone I can't seem to get over, despite the fact that the song may very well be overdone to death. Especially when you notice some of the other lines in the song, such as "children waiting for the day they'll feel good/ Happy Birthday/ Happy Birthday..."

The other which immediately springs to my mind is the Postal Service's sweet and dreamy "Sleeping In." This song always calms me in an almost unnatural-seeming way. "Last week I had the strangest dream/ Where everything was exactly how it seemed/ where there was never any mystery/ Of who shot John F. Kennedy/ It was just a man with something to prove/ Slightly bored and severely confused, he/ steadied his rifle with his target in the center/ And became famous on that day in November." The sentiment, to me, is honest and desirable, until you stop to consider the very callous manner of the discussion of the assassination. It rings somewhat of the "sacrifice a few to save many" mentality, and presents it in what I find to be an exceptionally convincing voice, at least until the song is over.

Do you know what I mean? You ever find anything like this? Comment and/or link below.
Btw, here is a startlingly wonderful cover of "Mad World" by one of my favorite bands, The Dresden Dolls, and the lead singer of The Red Paintings: Mad World

Speechless

So, I'm watching The Little Mermaid, and it occurs to me that Ursula's choice of payment from Ariel is somewhat interesting.

It makes sense, knowing her malicious intentions, that she would choose to steal away Ariel's voice, due to the fact that it is the one identifying characteristic of Ariel's that Eric remembers. However, I think her muteness is at least partially responsible for their happy ending.

I'm going to ignore the fact, for the time being, that Ariel is a headstrong teenager, and that I don't believe Happily-Ever-Afters tend to happen in the teen years.

I'm guessing this is how she saw him, too.

Seriously, WTF is this?

So, assuming it is Happily Ever After (At least until the horrible daughter 

sequel)...

Remember, when Eric is discovered (conveniently, on the shore just by his castle), his creepy matchmaker manservant accuses him of having ingested too much seawater in response to Eric's tale of a singing sea-woman.

So, needless to say, if Ariel had shown up in their kingdom ranting about "snarfblats" and "dinglehoppers," they would have declared her loony, and typically people don't like obvious lunatics marrying into their royal families. Assuming they didn't chase her out with torches and pitchforks when she started claiming she was the daughter of the sea king, it's pretty safe to say she would not have been marrying her prince. Brushing her hair with a fork is, in this circumstance, acceptably quirky and not quite so disturbing.

Also, Ariel's obsession with Eric, and Eric's own interest in her, is based largely on teenage rebellion and a brief, traumatic first encounter. Not a healthy combination of things to base a marriage on. However, because she cannot speak to tell him she is the lady with the voice, she is forced to spend time with Eric to convince him he really likes her for who she is. In this way, they actually get to know each other, cementing their attraction to one another in actual events.

Like letting the girl with a muted sense of gravity drive over cliffs.

Finally, Ariel's true nature is revealed in an undeniable, definite way. Seeing is believing, as they say. Therefore, no one can call her crazy for claiming to be a mermaid. Then, Eric does something heroic and selfless, making Triton respect him, and actually creating a bond between the kingdoms of land and sea.

Perhaps that makes for a reasonably happy Ever-After, after all.

Heroic Harry and the Movie Muck-Up

 SPOILER ALERT: I plan on talking about stuff from the last Harry Potter book AND movie. Just so you know.

As a quick precursor to what I set out to say here, I will point out that I LOVE the Harry Potter book series. I remember picking up the first one at about the time they were just beginning to get some recognition and popularity, their name brought to me by a friend who I believe found them in England while on holiday (to use the British phrase). I eagerly awaited the release of each of them, and I admit that I waited to read the last one for over a week because it marked the ending of a legacy which had spanned a large portion of my childhood. Picking up that last, gigantic, novel was like saying a final goodbye to a dear friend. I never wanted it to be over.

Still, all things must pass, and all things considered, I found the final installment of the series very satisfying.

The films I have felt somewhat torn on throughout their run. I liked most of them (though #6 was godawful), even though I think Daniel Radcliffe was a terrible actor in the beginning, and only a somewhat mediocre one by the end.

The man's only got one look, for Christ's sake!

Anyway, what I really wanted to get at here is the last movie, specifically. I think all the movies have their flaws, and I can't imagine how difficult it must be to try to translate a book into a film format and manage to please anyone, forget everyone. But I did find one thing in the final installment which strikes me as a glaring and fatal mistake which ultimately belittles Harry's character.

Now, one thing I think it's important to address is that Harry is a child throughout the vast majority of the series. While he undoubtedly shows hints of his true character and bravery, the dorky little eleven-year-old we meet at the beginning of book 1 is not a hero. Instead, I find him a victim of circumstance who is directed and manipulated by the various adults pulling strings. Hell, he's even manipulated by the ghost of Tom Riddle's young self in Chamber of Secrets!

Bitch, please.

He is lied to, deceived, misled, and expected to be sacrificed by the man he most trusted.

In short, how can you be a hero under these circumstances? Harry Potter is a lucky pawn in a much larger game he does not fully grasp.

However, Harry Potter does become a hero, and there is a particular moment in which it occurs. The precursor to this moment is when he elects to sacrifice himself to die at Voldemort's hand.

But the real act that I think really solidifies Harry's hero status is when he forsakes the Deathly Hallows. In the book, he takes the Invisibility Cloak and slips off into the woods. Hiding, he opens the Snitch bequeathed to him by Dumbledore to find the Resurrection Stone and summons the shades of his lost family to walk with him. At this point, Harry is the master of ALL of the Deathly Hallows. He does not yet have the Elder Wand in his possession, but he is master of it, and he knows this. And, according to the legend, the Deathly Hallows, when combined, make their owner the master of death.

So basically, Harry doesn't have to die. He doesn't have to sacrifice himself. It is incredibly brave of him to opt to die. It is an act of unparalleled heroism, however, to forsake the Deathly Hallows in the face of his doom. Theoretically, he could escape. He could take his spoils and get the hell out. But he doesn't. He does keep the cloak, but then it's a family heirloom. The Resurrection Stone he intentionally loses in the forest, and the Elder Wand he uses once, to repair his own broken wand, before he replaces it in the tomb of Albus Dumbledore.

Not only does Harry sacrifice himself when he doesn't have to, he does so when he has the power not to. Then, he forsakes the power he has rightfully won after he claims victory over Voldemort. This is what makes Harry a true hero.

But...

The movie doesn't seem to think this is all that important, since in it Harry does not even have the Invisibility Cloak when he enters the forest. He does drop the Resurrection Stone, but no further mention is ever made of it, nor is this Hallow regarded as particularly important throughout the previous films. And, Harry does not admit knowing that he is the true master of the Elder Wand until after everything is said and done, bringing into question when he obtained this information himself. Harry, in the movie, is still the ignorant, blundering child of the beginning of the series. This oversight, in my opinion, undermines everything that the book does to show Harry's ultimate and absolute strength of character, and completely ignores his greatest moment.

Sure, Harry does swoop in and save the day. After dropping unceremoniously from Hagrid's arms to the courtyard and spending a ridiculous amount of screen time running away from blasts of magic and rubble and Voldemort's tentacle cloak.

As a final note, I think I literally shrieked in glee when Molly Weasley delivered her line, exactly in the movie as in the book, of "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" So it wasn't all bad.

Disney: Revisited

I was talking via facebook with my friend Disney today, because she posted a Little Mermaid quote, and we got on to the subject of discussing how we like to analyze children's movies.

Now, this is particularly fun and interesting to me, since I LOVE doing this, and bring it up in my Literary Criticism class whenever I can. I don't mind dissecting these things from my childhood, even though some people complain that analyzing their favorite movie/poem/whatever ruins it for them.

I think that's DUMB.

SO, that being said, if you are one of those people I've just mentioned, READ NO FURTHER, as I'm about to ruin your childhood.

The first instance I'd like to discuss is the raciness of the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

I'm going to get right to the chase here, and say that Frollo's song "Hellfire" is downright RAUNCHY. If you haven't heard it in a while, go listen to it now: Here it is on YouTube

This guy is seriously fucked up. The main reason he's chasing Esmeralda throughout this movie is that he wants to bone her. Don't believe me?

 What the hell is a kid supposed to make of this? I was astounded when I grew up a little and rewatched this movie. Subsequently, I had a wonderful time picking apart the meaning of it.

(For example, I brought it up in class when we were talking about the obsession with a "transcendental self," or a level of being beyond the physical. The idea tends to downplay and even distrust the physical manifestation of the body. In this case, Frollo distrusts and vilifies his own physical desire to the point of blaming Esmeralda for placing him under some sort of Satanic spell.)

Moving on...

to the arrogant, vain, domineering, bull-headed Gaston of Beauty and the Beast

Who, after being blatantly rejected by the "girl of his dreams," publicly humiliated, and dumped into a puddle of mud, comes up with an elaborate plan to blackmail Belle into marrying him.

Yeah, Right.

You really think this guy would have come up with a plan like that?

No. This guy would have waited around until she got home and gang-raped her. 

Assertion of dominance, putting the lady "in her place," destruction of virtue, and a heaping dose of public humiliation, all in one.

Okay, I KNOW this is totally horrible. As a matter of fact, Belle is my favorite Disney princess and I hate to think of this happening to her. But, come on,

tell me I'm wrong.

(Also, you do realize that Tarzan totally would have been screwing Terk? I don't want to go into that one, but while we were on the topic of horrible sex-related secrets, it seemed appropriate)

Keep in mind here, I'm really doing this post to be funny. There is an endless amount of deep, philosophical theory hidden in all of the Disney movies. I'm avoiding most of the really serious stuff, but I'll touch on a little bit of it.

Namely, the omnipresent MISOGYNY of Walt Disney.

I love this one, because it includes the oft-overlooked Mulan.

Okay, I'm sure you've noticed at least some of this.
From left to right:

Jasmine,
 the lovely, free-spirited daughter of the Sultan. She desperately yearns for freedom from the oppressive life of a princess (is this maybe a metaphor for the hardship of life for an Arabian woman??), which she cannot achieve without the help of a MAN. I mean, she's really pretty helpless once she escapes the castle. If it wasn't for Aladdin, she'd have had her fucking arm chopped off in the first five minutes of her adventure into Agrabah. She's also literally a prisoner of time (magically imprisoned in an hourglass) until Aladdin can save her sorry ass again. Could this also be a metaphor, for the limited time a woman has to marry before she becomes old and undesirable, and therefore achieve validation in a male-driven society? I'm sure some of you are shaking your heads right now, but that's really all women live for in a lot of cultures. It is, after all, the only thing that the Sultan wants for her...




Mulan, 
the unmarriable geisha who only receives acknowledgement for her heroic bravery while she is believed to be a man. Okay, it works out okay for her in the end, but she has to become a man to achieve anything worthwhile in her life, beyond putting on white face makeup and birthing tons of little warrior sons.


Snow White,
 who honestly pisses me off. She's entirely fucking useless. The chick literally DIES because she can't listen to her friends who are trying to save her life, knowing there's a vain, homicidal queen coming after her. Then she gets to wait around being dead until she can marry the first dumb necrophiliac who comes along and kisses her.



Cinderella,
 this mostly goes without saying. The only choice she sees beyond slavery to her bitch stepmother and stepsisters is marrying some guy she doesn't even know.

(I notice these explanations are getting shorter and shorter as I'm getting huffier and huffier about them XP Please comment your thoughts and we'll discuss in more depth!) 


Briar Rose,
aka Aurora, who honestly I feel a little bad for. She's caught up in a whole lot of things she actually has no control over. She's told on the same day that her identity is a complete fabrication, and that as a result she can't even be with the man she's fallen for. Then, she's ensnared by a horrible witch to prick her finger on a spinning wheel (consequently, this is definitely a symbol of women's oppression. Ever see a man on a spinning wheel?) AND FUCKING DIE. The only thing that saves her is the goodwill and foresight of a dumpy fairy to make sure she's just made to fall asleep instead. Then, she's at the mercy of her "true love" to find her and kiss her-- while she's unconscious. Doesn't that sound like taking a bit of advantage to you? You know, you can't consent if you're passed out. Just sayin... Then, of course, it turns out the man she's betrothed to is actually the one she met ONCE UPON A DREAM, and what else matters after that?



Ariel,
the wild young lass who falls in love with a member of another species, and subsequently trades her VOICE for the chance to visit him. If that's not symbolic, I don't know what is. In order to be happy, the woman must be silent. Disney pointed me towards a blog post by a girl who speculates that Ursula's bitterness is caused by her own rejection and bad experiences during her own adventure on dry land (for more on this, see here. These are her ideas, not mine). But of course we've all noticed Ursula's emphasis on Ariel's sexual value, over all others. "It's she who
holds her tongue who gets her man."

I'm not even gonna go there.

Lastly, we have the intelligent bookworm, Belle, who falls for the Beast despite the fact that he's literally a gigantic, hairy monster. But, notice that they don't really end up together until Beast gets pretty? (Also, did you know the Beast's name is Adam? I don't remember that being mentioned in the movie. EVER.)

Alright, I'm going to leave things here. Likely more to come in posts or comments!

A Momentary Lapse of Reason

I always end up doing this, just like my journal.

I write an entry or two, I get really excited about it, then I completely fall off the blog-train and fail to update for AGES.

Anyway, so I'm sitting here trying to think of something interesting to say, and failing a bit again. Maybe I'll complain a bit more, since I seem to do a fair amount of that, and for whatever reason, people find it funny. Or maybe I'm fooling myself there, too. I think I'll tell you about my crazy-ass history prof. 

I probably shouldn't mention this, in case somehow she might manage to stumble across this little post and decide to hate me a little more for it.... So I'll give you a hint instead. She shares a surname with a certain medical doctor who got into a bit of trouble over that whole assisted-suicide thing... You know...

Well, she teaches a class on the Renaissance, which I have a sneaking suspicion 

she knows nothing about.

For those of you who do not consider yourselves scholars of this period, the word "renaissance" literally means "rebirth." In this case, it means a rebirth of Greco-Roman ideas and traditions.

(Basically, these guys thought the ancient Greeks and Romans were absolutely the shit, so they copied everything they had done.)

Like... making statues and stuff out of materials such as bronze and marble, in particular. There are a couple of famous ones you might know...

"STFU, Dave."

"Hey, didn't I just see a remake of a film about you..."

Well, I figured that they liked bronze and marble because the Greeks had been fond of the stuff. So I asked the prof, "Why did they use bronze and marble in particular, was it because the Greeks used them a lot?"

I've forgotten the exact response because my brain exploded a little when she gave it to me, but I can tell you that she ranted a bit about how bronze was probably easier to work with than marble, you could get more definition in a bronze casting, and bronze was shinier. Also, they could probably make things bigger in bronze than marble.

Um.

You know, the Greeks and Romans built entire FUCKING TEMPLES 

out of marble, and

WTF happened to my actual question?

Did it wander off somewhere?

Did I randomly start speaking French?

Je ne comprends pas.

On another occasion, 

my boyfriend, Oz, asked about something that came up later in the textbook. The concept is that England, at one point during the 1500's or so, bullied France into only using English ships for their exports, which seems like kind of a dick move. But also interesting. So Oz asks the professor, "How did England manage to control France's exports of wine, as it mentions on such and such a page?"

The prof glances at this page, talks for a few minutes about England's wool trade, and finally manages to get on-topic when her oversight is pointed out to her.

Eh?

The question is repeated to her, and when she finally seems to understand, she splutters for a second and finally answers:
"Uhh, well, you know, they did."

(A classmate then leans over to Oz and mutters, "They did it with guns." This is the best answer we've received thus far. )

The more I write about this, the more aggravated I become. So that's all for now. More to follow on this one, I assure you.

disrespectfulone.blogspot.com

Crazy Shit My Grandma Says

Now, don't get me wrong, here. I absolutely adore my grandma. But she is a little nuts.

She's not very old for a grandma, because all the women in my family seem not to understand the idea of birth control (at least, they didn't), and she is a shopaholic. She is also a star-class worrier, which means all the little things in my life that go bump or get bruised seem to be automatically a concern for her.

One of these, as I divulged to her recently, is that there is a chance my boyfriend might be sterile. This is completely irrelevant, as we are NOT considering reproducing at this time (or probably any) and honestly, I'm thinking the likelier his sterility is, the better off I am, because unlike the older generations of women in my family, I know for a fact that pregnancy is a common result of unprotected sex, and that fact scares the crap out of me.

Moving on, I mentioned this to her, and she promptly went off on a quick tangent about how that is something that I should really consider before...I suppose she meant choosing him... Because I might not want babies right now, but I don't know that I won't want babies sometime in the future.

Mind you, this was just a couple months after a very deep discussion about how I have some serious genetic deficiencies that she thought could be serious detriments to any spawn of mine, so I should probably consider not having children, because I might pass something truly awful down to them.

Interrobang

So... I'm not supposed to have kids, but I should find myself a mate who could still give them to me. I guess?

She also told me recently, when we discussed the fact that I have decided I do NOT want to reproduce and that my boyfriend doesn't either, that that is also something I should consider doing, because apparently I should have children because then I will have someone to take care of me when I'm old. I told her that was a really shitty-ass reason to have them. She said, well, but it's true.

AND, she essentially told me that I should consider my choice of life-mate carefully because if I'm too close to the person I choose and he dies, I will be devastated. I told her that was a really shitty-ass reason not to be with someone. 

Mitch Hedberg

I think of Mitch Hedberg's comedy:  "I love red wine. Somebody once asked me, doesn't red wine give you a headache? Yeah, eventually. But the first and middle parts are amazing! I'm not going to stay away from something just because the end part is bad. Do you want an apple? No, eventually it'll be a core!"




Sometimes I wonder if it's a generational thing that's causing this rift in understanding. The most confusing part, I think, is that she really likes my boyfriend, so I don't know why she keeps advising me to question these things about him.

I told her, I really prefer dogs to babies anyway. 

Baby dogs are fine.

Naiveté (Crap I Remember)

I suppose a little background info is going to be necessary here. I am 21 years old, female, and a sophomore in college after taking a 2-year hiatus from intellectual life after high school. Okay, so that gives you a time frame. Now for some people. My 3 best girlfriends are important to most of the stories I tell, and for the sake of their own sanities I am going to give them nicknames. The first is going to be Disney, who I met back in middle school, and is a FABULOUS cartoonist, and a little bit obsessed with all things pertaining to animation (of pictures, not corpses or anything like that).

 The second I am going to call Antics because she has got lots of them, and I really can't think of a more meaningful tag name for her, and the third I will call Draper after Mad Men's Don Draper, because it's somehow suitable.


BTW, I apologize if this story gets convoluted.


Well, I've actually known Draper since kindergarten, where we used to play pretend together and romp around the playground all livelong day. You could say we have a history. When Draper was very little, she had a stuffed unicorn she used to carry around with her, whose name now escapes me. When she was in preschool, a little asshole who I shall call Abs (for reasons to be explained) threw that unicorn down a muddy hill. Now, Draper has a habit of holding grudges, so when Abs turned up and continued to be an asshole through part of elementary school, she told me about this little incident, and we started a sort of kid-vendetta against him. I mean, he deserved it, he WAS an asshole, but after he disappeared partway through elementary school only to turn up again in middle school, she still hadn't let the thing go. To make matters so much worse, he also blossomed in the time he was gone from our sight into a handsome, sarcastic, artistic, sultry person. It sucks, trying to hold a years-old grudge against someone to whom you are suddenly and vehemently attracted.

Well, needless to say, that grudge died fairly quickly, but we still didn't get very close to Abs. Eventually, he started dating another friend of mine (at the time) who I shall nickname Tickle-Me-Freud.
Tickles is a tiny little thing whose entire hand literally fits into my palm. At the time she had a little emo haircut, and was entirely obsessed with Freud, as if she were channeling the old fucker (at least she seemed to think so). Anyway, Tickles and Abs dated for years, but I suppose he finally tired of her, because he broke up with her during high school. I have never known another human being to be so held up over a lost love than Tickles after that. I mean, she obsessed over him for 2 solid years. She'd call him at weird times, send him crazy IMs begging him to take her back, cry during school because she happened to see him in the hallway. It was INSANE. Then, to make matters all the more awkward, she started dating Abs' best friend. Now, that little detail is important, remember that.

For those who are not up to date on your "girl rules," this is where you run into a really big rift between guys and dolls. Girls DO NOT date their girlfriends' exes. It's just not done. Guys seem to take a certain pride in sharing some women, but girls---no. Tickles thought it was totally cool to go ahead and date Abs' friend, but when Draper showed interest in dating Abs, Tickles really went off the deep end. (Guys, imagine another dude coming into the bathroom while you're already in there, and using the urinal right next to you. It was like that. But way worse.)

Tickles dropped the whole "I can't be friends with you if you do this" threat, to which Draper replied with a debonair "I don't even like you, fuck off."



So here's me:  when the gloves come off, I'm siding with Draper. But I always seem to gravitate toward the middle in exchanges like this, and they ARE both my friends (at the time), so I am trying to mediate all this bullshit. One day, I'm walking with Tickles down the hallway wasting time after we got back from a sort of special field trip thingy, and she's spouting her usual load of tripe about how it's such a "terrible idea" for the two of them to date, and it's "just a mistake," and he's "just going to regret it, there's nothing good that can come out of this." I did say I'm trying to mediate. I'm not solely giving in to Tickles' insanities, I'm trying to help her snap the fuck out of it. So I take this time to impart a few words of what I believe are wisdom, hard-won products of a harsh upbringing where fate keeps waiting around corners for me with her foot held out. I tell her something along the lines of "Well, Tickles, maybe it isn't a bad situation for him. Maybe it's what he really wants. And besides, any circumstance can be turned into something worthwhile, as long as you learn something from it, and walk away a better person."

Good response, wasn't it? I was kind, I was motherly-- Just the right blend of gentle but honest.

What does Tickles say?

We're walking down the hallway, and she bows her little head just enough for her little emo hair to fall across her face like fucking Charlie's Angels or something, and she says in a little voice, "I think you're very naive."

I think my jaw hit the floor. Seriously, I think I made one of those horrible little incredulous-choking noises and spluttered for a minute. I had no idea what to say. I mean, really, what do you say to that kind of pretension?


This is one grudge I still hold, to this day.