Combining Things Doesn't Always Make Them Better

      I like science.  I like fiction.  I do not like science-fiction.  The one exception to this is my obsession with The X-Files.  I adored that show, but I think I was more interested in the characters than the aliens.  I liked the battle between science and not-science.  The paranormal and metaphysical could hold my interest because they were grounded in a reality I was familiar with.
     I've never been big on Sci-fi or fantasy.  Apparently, most people are.  Someone recently recommended a book to me and enthusiastically said "It's like Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and Narnia combined." 
     "I do not enjoy any of those things."
     "Oh.  Then you might not enjoy this."  Then it became as though I was not in the room as everyone else gushed over how ah-mah-zing it is.   
     I ended up in another conversation about sci-fi last night.  I had to sit silently trying to figure out what anyone was talking about.  Again, I like science, and I like fiction, but I've never cared much for science-fiction.  And that tends to (far) extend into Fantasy as well. 

      There are exceptions.  I've seen a decent number of sci-fi or fantasy films, especially those considered important in the realm of pop-culture.  I've seen The X-files films a few times each.  I've read and watched Jurassic Park.  One of my favorite movies is Donnie Darko, though I would venture into an argument that it's not really science-fiction.  I saw Sunshine, which I actually quite enjoyed- I credit Danny Boyle for that.  I enjoyed The Matrix a lot and watched it several times.  I didn't watch E.T. all the way through until I was much older, but it was fine.  And I did enjoy the most recent Star Trek.
     And as I started listing these films, another facet of my indignity towards science-fiction culture surfaced.  I am expected to like science-fiction because I like science.  People are appalled when I tell them I don't like Star Wars.  But I don't like it.  I'd be very happy if I never had to see it again.  This might have something to do with watching it every damn Christmas for 14 years.  Even so, I'm pretty effing over it. 
     It's a whole lump of geek / nerd culture that actually really bothers me.  Like science?  Then you are a nerd and must therefore like all of these things that are labeled for nerds.  But I do not like all of these things.  I enjoy very few of them, in fact.  Well, that might not be entirely true, but apparently fewer than most.  And admittedly, I'm lumping Fantasy into the Sci-fi category, which may be unfair. 
     My simple point was that combining two things I enjoy does not mean I will enjoy that one thing twice as much.  Similarly to that Full House episode where Michelle is trying to earn her cooking badge and she makes chocolate pudding with cheese in it.  It was gross.  Michelle was a moron.  Combining things doesn't always make them better.  

Watch Instantly Sunday: A Review

     As I mentioned yesterday, I spend the brunt of the weekend being a recluse.  This is actually one of my favorite activities.  I filled my time with television, movies, and books.  Well, book.  And now, to review.  (I didn't watch anything new, so I'm not going to use spoiler tags.  I believe all of these things are passed the spoiler  statute of limitations.)

Donnie Darko: The Director's Cut.  I love this movie.  It comes in at number four when I'm listing my  four favorite movies.  I like how when it ends you just kind of sit there and go "whaaa?"  It's one of the few films that is over two hours long that I will watch multiple times.  Also, I've never seen the original, theatrical version.  At this point, I don't see how it could be better than this version.  It turns out, the movie is about time travel and saving the universe.  Or about creating a tangential universe and then fixing it, somehow.  It also has a pretty awesome soundtrack.  Admittedly, it's not for everyone.  It's about ten years old by now, and it had been a few years since I had seen it last.  There were a few bits I had forgotten about entirely, like the paths streaming from the chests.  That part seems weird to me, but it's very brief, and it fits in, so it's ok.  There's something that I love about watching the movie, and even rewatching it, not being really sure of what's going on precisely, but still wanting to see what happens.  And then in the end the jet engine falls again, and time was reset and you go "oh.  Wait.  What?  Oh.  Ok."  And then you're left to sit on your couch for a few minutes.

Wishful Drinking.  A book by Carrie Fisher.  The title and cover art are intriguing enough to make you pick it up, and when you do and flip through it, you can figure it should only take a few hours to get through.  It's not a heavy read.  And if it weren't for the fact that she's Carrie effing Fisher, so, incredibly famous already, her style and tone would be insufferable.  Since she is Carrie effing Fisher, her tone makes complete sense,  and, she states, it's basically the written out version of her one woman show.  Oh but to be famous and screwed up enough to get one of those.  It was a fun, easy read.  I suppose if you didn't know anything about her at all, you might find it surprising.  But if you didn't know anything about her at all, you probably wouldn't have noticed the book in the first place. 

Meet The Press.  I don't usually watch this show, because Sunday mornings are reserved for catching up on the week's programming or going to the farmer's market.  But I was especially compelled this particular Sunday, and I actually think the round table discussion was a good one.  There was no yelling.  The yelling is normally what turns me off of shows that feature round table discussions, or present the opportunity for many people to speak at once.  I can't listen to that.  And it's not that I assumed this show was like that.  It's just that it had never occurred to me before to watch it.  I thought it was something you started watching when you turned 65 and really started caring about social security and couldn't understand the jokes on SNL anyway.  Turns out, you can just watch it when you're a little weirded out by what just happened in the country.

Prelude To A Kiss.    I didn't watch the whole thing.  It came on after Joe Versus The Volcano.  I only saw the last 15 minutes of that.  That movie, I love.  I like to say "you didn't get a second opinion?" a lot, though most people can't connect that to the line in the end of the movie.  So I was pulled in to the Meg Ryan glow when Prelude To A Kiss began.  I remember not liking the film the first time I saw it.  Then I was taken aback by how old the movie was (almost 20 years), and how young Alec Baldwin was.  (That's a weird thing to say.  It was 20 years ago, so he was 20 years younger.  Anyway.)  I wasn't as bothered by it this time.  I started getting drawn in by the deliberate dialogue.  Something in my filmmaking brain was intrigued by their words and the passage of time.  Also, I really enjoyed the scene where he meets her parents this time- I don't remember it being anything spectacular the first time I saw it.  But it was on TV, and I do not like watching movies with commercials in it.  It takes me out of it too much.  I actually forget what I'm watching.  I flipped over to Dances With Wolves briefly.  I was struck by the fact that Mary McDonnell is in Dances With Wolves with Graham Greene, and that in Donnie Darko, the class is reading The Destroyers, written by a different Graham Greene.  At the emergency PTA meeting, Mary McDonnell's character, Rose Darko, asks the gym teacher "do you even know who Graham Greene is?"  "I think we've all seen 'Bananza.'" the gym teacher replies.  Sure, it's not ha-ha rofl funny, but there's something to it, I think.  Mary McDonnell knows damn well who both Graham Greenes are.  But anyway, Prelude To A Kiss is only ok.  It loses something near the middle, which is where I turned it off, after realizing I was still watching it.

Upon turning it off, I retreated to by bedroom and turned to my favorite invention of the year in which it was invented: Netflix Watch Instantly.

I'll continue the review of the recluse weekend tomorrow.

A Weekend Recluse

     Being a recluse is easier when you don't have very many friends.  Also, when the friends you do have lead very full complicated lives, they tend to call less often.  Sometimes, the roller coaster of emotions that comes from dealing with everything around you causes you to take refuge in your pajamas, to become a weekend recluse. 
     It was the first weekend in three weeks where there was no agenda.  I was free to do whatever I wanted.  On Friday, I was still slightly recovering from my cold, so to knock the recovery out of the park, I stayed in.  I made sure all of the alarms were off and settled in for the greatest night of sleep ever.
     The one thing I had scheduled for the weekend was an Improv workshop at 3 pm on Saturday.  I was excited about this.  Saturday morning came.  I wanted to write that the morning dawn came through my windows and the sunlight tickled me awake.  But that's kind of effeminate, and it didn't happen.  I woke up with the distinct desire to not get out of bed.  I also had the distinct desire to urinate.  Since I didn't want to lie in my own urine, I got up to pee, but happily crawled back into my bed, just like a kid.  I keep a few books near my bed, so I finished reading Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher.  It was a lovely read. 
    I stretched out getting dressed and preparing for the day as long as I could.  I pretty much dried each individual strand of hair separately.  It was very peaceful.  Then I put on a very characteristic winter outfit and walked the mile to the improv workshop. 
     During the 5 minute break at the workshop, I checked Twitter on my phone, and I was overcome with confusion.  The tragedy in Arizona had just happened, and it was reaching the news wires, and being retweeted.  A part of me wanted to ask others in the room if they had heard about it yet, but another part didn't want to ruin the mood.  That seems like a silly thing to say- to ruin the mood, but it was a very real concern of mine.  I didn't want to be the girl who brings up terrible news in the middle of what's supposed to be a very fun afternoon.  So I kept it to myself until the walk home.  On the walk home, I mulled over many things, and tried to find the balance.  I had a wonderful two hours of creation with improv.  I wanted to do more of it, to continue with that outlet.  However, there were also awful things going on, and it felt irresponsible to ignore them. 

     I have trouble finding the balance between the general outrage I feel and my desire to not offend people.  The basis of my desire to not offend people comes from not wanting to be offended.  However, I’m coming to realize that I’m not quite as easily offended because I am willing to consider reasonable arguments.  The ideas I feel outraged by are in general not open to reasonable discussion.  Also, often I feel as though I’m not knowledgeable enough to firmly ground myself behind a point of view.  I also don’t attack things with enough fervor.  In general, I don’t actually agree with a friend of mine on most things.  But she’d never know it because she’s loud enough to drown out any point of view coming from a meeker place than hers, and she will never back down.  Kudos to her, I suppose, on some level.  Except I think this type of discourse can be extrapolated to represent others like us.  People who care but aren’t confident in the facts to back up their feelings will be bullied by those with a better grasp on the language and volume of politics.

     That idea wasn't fully formed on the way home, but it was getting there.  (And will continue to form, to include both more specific, and broader instances.)  I made a few phone calls to check in with those friends who have more interesting lives than I.  Indeed, they were all busy.  I picked up a pizza from the pizza joint across from me and went home to eat pizza and drink wine.  It was only 6 pm, but at that point I had decided to stay inside.

     I had been itching to rewatch Donnie Darko, so I popped that into the DVD player.  And when it was over, I watched it with the commentary.  The commentary was actually pretty interesting, because it was a specific director's cut commentary, which was made about 3 years after the release of the theatrical version of the film. And director Richard Kelly had his good friend Kevin Smith sit in with him.  It provided great levity to the weight of the project.  

     Sunday morning came along similarly to how Saturday morning had, but with even less on my plate for the day.  I didn't want to go outside anymore- this was just something else that made me want to be a recluse, but not exactly for the obvious reason.  The obvious reason being that I don't want to get shot.  I actually care less about being shot and more about the general discourse we face when being out in public.  I just want to get from my home to the liquor store without being confronted by every nut job who learned how to read.   Of course, I believe this kid was a complete nut case.  But for some reason, this tragedy has gotten to me a little more than all the other tragedies of similar nature.  I actually got up and watched Meet The Press in the morning.  This is not something I usually do, but I wanted to arm myself with knowledge, instead of just feelings.

    Shortly after, however, that feeling faded.  I wanted to create again.  I still didn't want to go outside though.  Luckily, leftover pizza and Netflix Watch Instantly provided me with all the nourishment I needed.