Bush seeks to extend the spying law. The House, however, doesn't like it and protested with a walkout on Thursday. This is the news brought to me by msn today. Bush keeps up his fear rhetoric reminding everyone who listens that we are still in trouble, still in danger, that we must give up our civil liberties so that the government can "do it's job." Well what about the job to protect our freedom? Is that job best accomplished by revoking said freedom?

I am angered by the rhetoric of the Bush administration--have been since it began. I am also angered by the rhetoric surrounding our troops. A blind trust rhetoric that labels you a "troop-hater" if you don't support the war and reminds everyone not fighting in Iraq that we've never done anything for freedom. Let me tell you what I'm willing to do for freedom. I'm willing to die for what this country is supposed to be. I'm willing to die to make sure it doesn't turn into what it shouldn't be. I would rather keep my freedom and see the ideals of America maintained than be kept "safe" and watch America turn into the very thing it rebelled against during its inception.

If everyone in this country were willing to do that, willing to accept the risk of possible terrorist attacks and not willing to give up civil liberties for the appearances of safety, and they are appearances, then we would all, as a country, be fighting for freedom. I don't say this as a troop-hater, though I am against the war. Many of my good friends have been over to Iraq, some more than once. I will do whatever it takes to best support them. But I think right now, what can best support them, is making sure that the country they are fighting for is still here when they get back.

No one ever stops to think about that. No one ever stops to think about whether the American Dream is still viable or pursuable. No one ever stops to think about what our country should be, what it was meant to be, or what it means to be American. We listen to the news; we listen to each other. My students label those protesting the government "Anti-American" and claim we are better off with the Patriot Act. We still have more civil liberties than other countries, they say, so what's the big deal in giving up a few? "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free" the Statue of Liberty says; "Give me liberty or give me death," said Patrick Henry. Are these things not part of the American Dream as well? The dream of acceptance, advancement, freedom?

It seems we care only about money anymore, as a people. The ability to earn it and the ability to spend it. If I were a sociologist or economist I would hazard a guess that it has something to do with the recession these past eight years. The gap between the economic classes is growing, and I don't ever remember a time in history when that resulted in a good thing. But what happens when nothing is more sacred than the dollar? Republicans (specifically conservative ones) love to discuss how we are taking God out of the country and ruining our ideals, but what about our increasing dependence on money? And I don't mean to imply that things haven't always run by money here and everywhere else in the world, but we've had amazing moments surpassing it. The monopoly laws in response to the Railroad Barons, for one. But now the people who are supposed to enforce those laws have a stake in the monopoly. And so I ask you the same question I ask my kids--what do you do when laws go bad? Do you follow them because they're the law? Do you duck and hope they go away? Do you scream at the wall, hoping it will come down? Do you accept the inevitable and just hope it will all leave you alone?

I don't have any answers for you besides my own, which is that I will not stand by idly while my government makes a mockery of my civil liberties. I will not bow down to their authority to keep me "safe" for "my own good" from a threat they will never be able to completely protect us from. Terrorists are willing to die to accomplish their goal; no matter where you are or how good your security there are any number of places people congregate where you can kill a lot at once. There is no way to stop this unless you specifically enforce how/when/where people interact in public. And if we are willing to give up anything, are we willing to allow this? People no longer have a right to a speedy trial, or any trial. People are being tortured. People are being taken without knowing why and held without any recourse. Is this the government we are proud of? Is this the country we want to live in? We say that as long as it's not me it doesn't matter, but I ask you why. Because you'll never do anything that will put you in that position? What do you do when there is a misunderstanding? What do you do when they take you, or your friend, or your family member away because of a misspoke word? Who do you go to? How do you fix it?

You can't. That's why checks and balances were in place. That's why we valued freedom over safety. If you want to be free you must be free. There is no half-way on this. They say we shouldn't live our lives in fear even as they warn us to be afraid of another attack. They say we shouldn't change our way of life even as they change the laws around us. They say we should fight for freedom even as our interests seem purely monetary and personal.

You have to decide. Are you willing to die for what you believe in? And why not? What values do you hold that are not so important as to be worthy dying for? And if you aren't willing to die for them, why are you willing to send troops to fight for them? Is what you believe in as noble as you think it is, or is it just what everyone else believes in too?

So I've deleted any posts that might get me in trouble. That's not true, but I've deleted all the ones for which I'm not willing to be in trouble. Not much of a difference, but definitely an important one.

I've received some results about my psychology--apparently I have a problem with authority figures. I share this because I know you will all be as shocked as I was to hear the news. Also apparently I am slightly anti-social. This also surprised me, coming on the heels of the best Valentine's day ever and all. Of course, it's the best Valentine's day ever because I've spent it completely alone. It's been absolutely fantastic. And I'm anti-social. Perish the thought.

My aloneness, though, has come with the chance to watch The Magnificent Seven. No, not the movie, but the television show. This is why I love netflix--I can watch the most horrible t.v. at no cost to myself. Think of all the great bad t.v. out there just waiting for me to discover it. And discover it I will. I thought this particular show worthy of some notice though. You see--it's in many ways such a fantastic idea. Seven men, noble, brave, strong, and, of course, good-looking. And all they really do is hang around a town and protect people. Sometimes this involves saving babies. How is that not the best idea ever?

Plus, it's a western. I've discovered I have an unabashed love of westerns. All the gun-fighting and horse-riding, it gets me, well, you know how it gets me. Unfortunately this show only ran for two seasons and the first season was only a half of one. It's depressing quite frankly; the writing isn't the best and at times it is just this side of horrid, but it isn't bad. The chemistry between the characters is great, the action is good, and it makes you smile. Who can argue with that? TNT apparently didn't find it worth keeping on, however, and so I content myself with the few shows I have to enjoy. They've certainly made this Valentine's day a pleasant one.

It is a little weird, though; you see the hot one, Vin Taylor, (ah, what a name, "Vin") looks just like a kid I went to high school with. And not a kid I particularly want to fantasize about. He was good looking, and he's probably an okay guy, but I'm not looking for him to intrude upon my seven magnificent fantasies. It makes for an uncomfortable sensation. Perhaps that sounds strange coming from me, the girl who has an inappropriate fascination for bestial characters--I won't deny there is some incongruity there, but I find it unhandy just the same. That is so unhandy when dealing with cowboys who are, by nature, incredibly fantasy material. Is my predicament understandable? In any case, I offer in honor of this another list--I'm feeling "listy" lately. And so, in honor of this, the day of commercial love, I give you my favorite commercial cowboys who we would all like to love.

Top Ten Cowboys

10. McLintok (McLintok)

He was known as "the Duke" but when I watched him with Maureen O'Hara I knew I wished he would be known as "mine." John Wayne isn't he prettiest face in Hollywood history, but the thrill of cowboys is that they shouldn't be pretty; they should be tough, and MicLintok was nothing if not tough. And in love with his wife. I can get behind that.

9, Pardner (Paint Your Wagon)

They said he couldn't sing, and maybe he was no broadway star, but when I watched this move I understood the appeal of Clint for the first time. That tall frame, those good eyes, and yes, a smooth voice. It's no wonder when your choice are Clint Eastwood and Lee Marvin that you would opt to marry two men. Me, I would just start a harem, but I'm not as morally upright as others.

8. Jim Craig (The Man From Snowy River)

Like so many movies I caught part of this on Encore or some such station and immediately had to go to the video store and watch the rest of it. He was young, he was wounded, and he needed the love of a good woman. Why oh why isn't it ever my love?

7. Paden (Silverado)

Kevin Kline rarely gets the love he deserves. Well, as a gun-slinging man on a hunt for his clothes, guns, and horse, I'm more than willing to love him along the way.

6. Chris Larrabee (Magnificent Seven)

Chris has all the makings of a great hero. He's wounded, he broods, and he wears black. And sometimes he saves babies. How do you argue with that?

5. Matthew Quigley (Quigley Down Under)

Tom Selleck is still, to this day, the only man that can wear a moustache with style. It's not sketchy on him, it's just hot.

4. Josiah Sanchez (Magnificent Seven)

He's a preacher who lost his way and now works to make his way back. Frankly, when Ron Perlman is playing this character I wish he'd just make his way back to me.

3. Johnny Gault (The Outsider)

I know, I know. He was just on a list. But this character is really, really hot. Really hot.

2. Vin Taylor (Magnificent Seven)

He's the pretty boy. Normally that doesn't work so well with cowboys. But he's all man. A sharp-shootin' man of mystery. What we have there is the cowboy equivalent of Batman.

1. Sam Elliot

Dude, he's Sam Elliot. The man defines cowboy. Did you really think anyone else could be number 1?

I don't want to be serious today. I've read quite a bit of feminist theory and I'm tired of thinking too deeply on issues that matter. My solution to that is to give you the greatest solution: gratuitous violence. Therefore, in honor of this need, I present to you my top ten list of men who make you think guns are cool. These men wield a gun like the swashbucklers of old and while you might despise guns in the real world, if one of these guys were using them instead of weapons of destruction they suddenly become instruments of hotness. Enjoy.

Ass Kicking Gun Shooters:

10. Paladin (Have Gun Will Travel)

He's not an obvious choice. I understand that. Made in the '50's Have Gun Will Travel is not a well known show and were it not for my father I would know nothing about it. In all honesty I don't think my father need ever know why I actually like this show. But regardless, Paladin walks around saving people and helping out, his bounty hunter experience being put to good use. I can respect that.

9. Zack (Dark Angel)

The actor that played Zack did not go on to do great things. In fact, all he really did was go on to make Blood of Beasts and wear really bad extensions. But before he came to such a despicable end he was Zack, doing his best to help Alex and looking incredibly hot while he did so. It's not easy being wounded and unloved.

8. Han Solo (Star Wars)

He's at number eight because he has made previous lists. But can you have a list about gun-wielding heroes and not include Han? No. Because even if it is a laser gun he wields it with aplomb and does it all while making a vest look like a good fashion statement. That is not an easy task my friends and only someone with such innate coolness has Han Solo possessed could ever have pulled it off.

6. Dean (Supernatural)

First there was a hot dad. And then he had two hot sons. And then these sons went around the country helping people. Sometimes without their shirts on. What a brilliant, brilliant idea. Wield your shotgun Dean. Wield it well.

7. Smith (Shoot 'em Up)

Anyone who has experienced the greatness of Clive Owen knows why one of his characters is here. Smith does something never before accomplished in this movie. He has sex (well) while holding a gun fight. I'm not saying I want bullets flying past my head while orgasming, but if it has to happen it should happen with Clive Owen. The man obviously has skill.

5. Young Guns (whole cast)

They're young and they have guns. Thank you.

4. Johnny Gault (The Outsider)

It's a little known movie by Showtime. Had I not had the fortune this past Halloween to be in the mood for a western I might have spent my life oblivious to the delightful wonders awaiting me. Clearly the fates smiled upon me. Johnny Gault is a "shootist", wounded, and totally falls in love with the girl. The only thing better than a gunslinger is a gunslinger that loves you.

3. John McClane (Die Hard)

Do I really have to explain this? Just gauge the reaction of your body while watching this movie. I think that's all the explanation any of us need.

2. James Bond (James Bond)

Obviously Mr. Bond would be on this list. We suffered through some unfortunate years with the face of Roger Moore but I think Daniel Craig has more than made up for that. I may be a feminist, but I'm pretty sure if Mr. Bond walked through the door I would say, "Oh James..." That is assuming, of course, that I don't giggle uncontrollably and drool as I'm prone to do in the presence of exceptional magnificence.

1. El Mariachi (Desperado)

He gets number one because, let's face it, he's perfect. Spanish accent? Check. Deep soulful eyes? Check. Wounded? Check. Saves babies? Check. Kicks more ass than one's libido can safely endure? Double check. And he can sing to you. What more could you want?

This has been bothering me since last night, and I'm not sure I can lay out my argument clearly, but I'm going to try anyway. It concerns women and sexuality.

Obviously, this is an extremely complex subject, and I'm not interested in discussing it in broad general terms. I want to discuss particularly, is what could be known as the thirteen-year-old blowjob girl. Every school has them; that girl who as soon as she hits junior high starts "favoring" boys. Often she gets a boyfriend early and always has one, usually an older one. The reason this is on my mind is because of a conversation I was taking part in, while discussing one version of this particular girl I pointed out that probably she wasn't quite right in the head.

This was, perhaps, an unfair assessment as not every girl who delights in providing sexual acts at a young age is wrong in the head--I certainly don't know what age becomes acceptable for loss of virginity; I think (and I'm sure most of you would agree) that depends entirely on the girl. Some girls are ready at sixteen, some not until twenty. But my question is, are any girls ready at thirteen? I would even expand it to ask are any boys ready at thirteen?

I have known people who gave blow jobs at twelve and they weren't molested or suffering from any obvious tragedy or self-esteem issues that might normally be used to write off such behavior. And I don't exclude the possibility that some girls are ready; that it isn't a matter of fitting in, or impressing boys, or feeling loved. However, in our society, with our socialization practices, and the extreme weight of the Madonna-Whore complex that girls feel from almost the moment they are cognizant, I'm not sure it is particularly likely for such an occurrence to happen here. I don't have any credentials to back my observation up outside my own status as a woman, and my studies of feminist theory. I do, however, believe this gives me more insight than a man. Perhaps that is fallacious, I wouldn't deny the possibility, but as I would never presume to argue that I know what it is like to grow up a man, I don't believe a man could conceive of being a woman any better. Especially a particularly closed-minded man that is well known for making fallacious arguments in all other cases.

My point is simply this--thirteen, while on the cusp of maturity is certainly not mature. Perhaps in another place with a different socialization process it could qualify, but not here and not now. I don't want to belittle those who have experienced tragedy by saying one "hasn't lived enough" by thirteen, nor do I want to exclude the possibility of a particularly "old" thirteen year old. Lolita comes to mind, but I haven't read the book and that's why I'm not bringing it up. It might have significant bearing on this conversation, but, regardless, I think she would be the exception, not the rule (if you read the story favorably).

That being said there is a difference between experimenting with boys your own age, two thirteen year olds, or perhaps a thirteen and fourteen year old, and experimenting with a boy that is practically a man. A thirteen year old and an eighteen year old have a lot of difference--it might only be five years, but it's a big five years, especially if she is still in middle school. All of this leads up to me asking the question is it possible that she wanted of her own free will, through no negative ideas about her femininity or need to be loved, to give a blow job? I can't deny the possibility. It seems to me, however, extremely unlikely.

I don't think this is an anti-feminist response because I am choosing to believe that young teen age girls can't enjoy sex with older men--rather I think this is an awareness of how much baggage a girl carries, even at thirteen. Sex is different for women than it is for men. In choosing to have sex we are making ourselves completely vulnerable--you are letting someone into your body. For anyone that doesn't know what that feels like imagine your revulsion at the idea of homosexual sex with another man, then, multiply it. I say multiply it because due to all the extraneous stuff that gets heaped on women's sexuality it's never a simple thing for a woman (or rarely). A blow job is simultaneously the most empowering experience and the most debasing. Like any sexual act if done properly it's wonderful and fun, but if done wrong it's incredibly humiliating. I don't even know that I could explain properly without a whole blog discussing those feelings in and of themselves. Sex is simply too complicated for women in this society. Not the act itself, but the mental repercussions that go along with it. We (women) jokingly call each other sluts and whores as a way of acknowledging the behavior and laughing it off, but I don't know of any one I have ever met that hasn't at some point felt like a bad sexual encounter was, to some degree, her fault. That she should have been more discerning. That she has lost some value of self because of it. I've known some that didn't admit it, and I've known some that got over it, but in most cases the fallout is the same. You seek further validation through sex acts searching for the one man who will love you and heal you. This is, of course, a false assumption, but one we are fed through Lifetime, romance novels, and everything else.

I suppose my point is this--a thirteen year old girl might in complete innocence think it's a good idea to give her first blow job. And if, following that experience she launches into repeating it with whatever guy she can find then I would have to assume either the experience was unpleasant or something else was wrong going into it. It isn't that the blow job is a bad idea or that sexual experimentation is a bad idea (I would hope my views are clear on this) but thirteen is not the same thing as twenty or thirty. You do not have the sense of identity to protect against the message of the "unclean woman" at thirteen. And if your first blow job goes wrong make no mistake, you will feel unclean.

I wanted to discuss this because I'm seeing the next move in the rhetoric chess game of those in power against those who are powerless. The sexual revolution happened and now we hold it up as if all the societal pressures and judgments disappeared. Women have the pill, women can make the choice, therefore, it is silly to assume that women wouldn't want to engage in prostitution or stripping or giving blow jobs to anyone who will let them. But that's not true. We have the pill and we have the choice but we still don't have our bodies. Now we are supposed to use our bodies to give pleasure instead of holding them chaste, but we are simultaneously supposed to be discerning in our use so that we are "mostly" chaste. And what's more we should celebrate the choice a woman makes to work in a strip club or pornography or prostitution or sexual promiscuity before she can drive.

And yet you still don't want to take those girls home to mom. That seems like an odd celebration of freedom to me, how about you?

This one got my blood flowing. It's in response to an article on blogs in the classroom I had to read for my 701 class and even though I posted it over at 701 B.C. I thought I would put it up here for everyone else too. The link for the article is here http://blog.lib.umn.edu/blogosphere/moving_to_the_public.htmlThis is going to be a long one. Gird your loins and settle in. I'm about to break all the brevity rules.

I (in an attempt to get homework done early so that I could enjoy my weekend) thought I would read the blogging article tonight because it was short, looked fun, and why not? All jokes about Terminator, Tron, and I, Robot aside I'm incredibly disturbed, not by teacher's choice to use blogs or even the public vs. private issues, but by the assumption, unchallenged by anyone who replied, that computer communities are superior to real live ones. To explain I must share a bit of personal information, but I promise it is relevant.

I used to be a computer nerd. What I mean by computer nerd is in the computer lab from the time it opened until the time it closed playing Tsunami, a MUD (a telnet program that is purely text based, a precursor to Everquest and all other online roll-playing games). On this game we could chat, we could play, and we could dream. I learned many valuable skills such as how to type upwards of 80 wpm, how to process text incredibly fast, and how to reinvent myself into whomever I wanted to be. I started playing around the age of thirteen so really it was perfect timing. We, of course, played all other manner of games but Tsunami, being a text-based game, is particular to this discussion.

By the time I graduated college with my undergraduate I had learned several incredibly important lessons: life is more fun when not encapsulated on a computer screen, friends are more real when you've met them, and no amount of pretend teaches you much of anything except how much everyone wishes they were someone other than who they are. And make no mistake, when the brunt of your interaction occurs via the internet it is all pretend.

As I read this article I grew increasingly upset by the teacher's unfettered excitement at student's opportunities to interact via the Internet. The pressures of the classroom could be avoided, shy students could engage, and writing could be shared more publicly and more easily. The last part about the writing is fantastic--I agree with the idea of public and easily accessible writing; it is important to give authority to the students. But the first two issues, avoiding classroom pressure and not demanding live interaction in a serious way is ridiculous and quite possibly harmful. Also, their assumption that any writing is as good as any other writing is false. Not because we need to write college essays of particular types, but because what matters, specifically, is the thinking process. That does not occur through everyday text messages, emails, and musings. Unless you discover or are directed towards the sort of dialogic cognitive moves that it takes to truly write well, you will have a significantly harder time mastering the writing process. It isn't about introspective, personal assignments, it's about thinking about your thinking and attempting to force the students into that sort of rhetorical move. A blog might very well be the best place to do it, but not just because it's more "normal" for them or because they might like it better.

Computer relationships are not the same thing as real relationships, teacher-student, student-student, or otherwise. I say this as a former serious computer-user. With things like match.com and eharmony we live in an age when relationships are increasingly being handled online. I understand the appeal. When instant messaging you can think through what you want to say before you type it. You can avoid confrontation. You can say what you want without having to deal with someone staring at your or challenging you vocally. Computers offer a buffer that allows for the user to feel powerful and if that user has a margin of rhetorical ability they can feel like a god.

But I'm not interested in promoting that sort of behavior in my students. Perhaps you think I overreact to this article and it isn't the use of the blog that bothers me, but, specifically, the replacement of in-class writing and dialogue with the blog. That is what is prompting my reaction. I've seen computer relationships and I've seen what they have done for people and to people. I do not consider my job as a teacher to be one that encourages this sort of disconnect with humanity. Yes I strive for dialogism in myself, my classroom, and my students, but while I may accept their lack of awareness of my message I do not accept the inevitability of that lack.

With the aid of the internet students don't have to write for themselves; they write for who they imagine themselves to be. With the lack of classroom interaction there is no accountability and the image of what they imagine can reign unchallenged. I'm not in the habit of judging my students or even praying for their change, but when one of my student's says something unacceptable (like Jews are greedy, or fat people cause children in Africa to starve) I can hold them accountable for that thought process, demand they prove it through verbal debate in a way that teaches them more about discourse, writing, and their own thought processes than blogging ever can. There is a barrier when you blog. It is not nearly as public as reading a paper aloud or watching someone read it in front of you. The danger of the internet is that it is a one-way mirror. You can see everything while remaining safely at home, hidden in your booth.

I am not opposed to blogs as tools to use in conjunction with freshman writing classes and I am not unaware of the theoretical advantages blogs offer to a classroom. But blogs must be recognized as what they are, a tool, and harnessed as any other tool is to a teacher's personal teaching philosophy. The assignments still need to be recursive and sequenced. The writing still needs to be held up to some sort of a standard (not grammatical, but dialogic, meaning-making). And teachers should not hide themselves behind computers because it's easier to deal with people through a screen.

And it is easier. They aren't challenged and you, while giving them the authority to write what they will are always, ultimately, in control. It's the perfect solution to a society with all the aspects of free thought and none of the responsibility. We certainly won't be making them better people then. But I guess we can shoot for better writers.

I saw this article on msn http://movies.msn.com/new-on-dvd/feature-article/?news=298766 and was so very excited because here was a top ten list of romantic movies the writer loathes! And then I thought, I should do a list like this. But by the time I finished the list I was so incensed by her poor choices that I have to first rant over her lack of understanding of the romance genre.

She makes several excellent choices (Sleepless in Seattle, Ghost, Pretty Woman) for fabulous reasons (stalking = not hot, dead = not hot, prostitution = not hot) but then goes on to choose My Big Fat Greek Wedding, While You Were Sleeping, and Dirty Dancing?! Hello, I'm not going to argue the "classicalness" of these movies, but they don't deserve to be loathed. Greek Wedding was hilarious for anyone whom has ever experienced a big family you love and adore but can rarely please, and Dirty Dancing is the ultimate fantasy of every post-high school pre-college late teen ever born. If you wanted to take issue with Dancing you could make the argument that it makes a social statement about abortion after which (directly following in fact) the protagonists have seemingly unprotected sex. Perhaps not the best move in movie history. But the reasons this lady gives sound like those of a unimaginative, calcified woman.

I hate stupid people.

So, in honor of her lack of ability to properly construct a romantic movies to loathe list I offer up my own. I will opt not to include repeats, therefore, the ones already on her list will not appear on mine even though she has some of my favorite haters. Oh well, we must make do.

Top Ten Romance Movies You Should Hate:

10. Camelot/First Knight etc.
So I had a hard time with this choice but felt I needed to include it. It was a hard choice for me because I've always loved King Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot, but I've got to go on record here and say the only thing less hot than adultery is adultery with your best friend. That being said this story is about love in all it's various complications, hence why I let it sit at number 10. And at least the characters are noble people who make mistakes instead of horrible people that happen to fall in love.

9. Carousel
If he dies and leaves you to gestate, birth, and raise the child on your own that’s not romantic--it’s tragic. At no point do I watch that situation and think “gee, I wish I could have that experience.” It might be better to love and lose, but not in 1950 when a single woman raising a child alone will probably result in prostitution, depression, and no Richard Gere to make it all go away.

8. Anna and the King
Silly me, when I watched this move the first time having never seen The King and I all the way through I thought it would have a happy ending. At the end of the movie I screeched “they don’t end up together?!” My mother informed me that was a given. Why don’t they end up together? Cause it just won’t work? He’s a friggin’ king. Disney you lied to me. Lied.

7. Angel Eyes
Imagine this: watching this movie having no idea what it’s about, but thinking it is some kind of a thriller. Now add in Jennifer Lopez’s amazing acting (sarcasm) and the natural unnerving acting of Jim Caviezel. Suddenly every dramatic pause that is supposed to show the tension between the characters becomes a moment when I keep expecting him to attack her. That if nothing else shows how similar love and hate actually are. Mostly though, this movie makes it for the pure creepiness factor. He remembers her eyes after his wife and kid dies and somehow, while suppressing his memories because he has POST TRAMAUTIC STRESS DISORDER he can fall in love with the girl? I know we all like the wounded boy, but this is just unnatural.

6. Return to Me
Wife dies. Heart is transplanted to another woman. That woman falls in love with widower. If it’s a good heart you have Return to Me. If it’s a bad heart you have Fatal Attraction. Either way it’s wrong and disturbing. And unlike a Mickey Rourke movie the opposite of hot.
5. Message in a Bottle
I hate it when one of the characters dies because, why? Life sucks sometimes? Gee, that’s sweet. And yet women call this romantic. Not to mention it had Kevin Costner being serious and no Morgan Freeman to save him. I think that pretty much covers why this is here.

4. The Taming of the Shrew
Sometimes this movie seems facetious. He isn’t really breaking her like one would a horse, they’re just compromising as couples do. If you read Katarina’s final speech as tongue-in-cheek the movie isn’t so bad, but even before that she breaks down and agrees to say what he wants her to. And when you factor in the truth, that she carries no power in the situation--that were she black you would see her for the slave she is--it suddenly becomes significantly less sexy. If she hadn’t capitulated he actually would have killed her with his kindness. How is that romantic?

3. Prince of Tides
Adultery is, in fact, the opposite of romantic. Why? Because everyone can fall in love, but only some people can treat others with consideration and understanding by not cheating or breaking off the relationship prior to starting a new one. It’s harsh I know and I’m not judging adulterers here so much as just saying cheating isn’t sexy. We all want to imagine romantic situations and I ask you: is it romantic to sleep with a married guy? (The older you get the more the answer to that question becomes obvious.) Is it romantic to have the one you married sleep with someone else? These situations do not happily ever after make.

2. Romeo & Juliet
Five minutes Romeo. Five minutes and you could have lived with your love in peace. Five minutes is like one bout of masturbation for a thirteen year old. And you were incapable of waiting just a little bit longer on the off chance that you guys had miscalculated how long it would take her to come out of it? Who does that? Stupid people do that. And stupid people aren’t romantic.

1. Gone with the Wind
Rhett loves Scarlett. Scarlett loves Ashley. Ashley loves his cousin. By the time Scarlett loves Rhett, Rhett leaves her. Never mind the rape scene in the middle. At what point does this make a love story? Don’t you need love, real love, to have a romance? How does unrequited love with a dash of destructive relationship and a tablespoon of rape make a romance? It might be a great story, but it is not a romantic one. I’m still bitter over the three hours of my life I gave to this thing.


And so you have it--my contribution to February, the great month of love. Just remember, it’s only stalking if the one you stalk doesn’t like it. But unless you’re Meg Ryan you probably can’t get away with stalking and passing it off as love when you’ve never talked to the object of your obsession, I mean desire. Most people do go to jail for that.

The Giants won! I say that in gleeful disregard of all Patriots fans. It's not that I don't love you, I'm just really enjoying your pain. Is that really so bad?

On another note--Newsweek has a really interesting story on happiness today here http://www.newsweek.com/id/107569/page/1 I rather enjoyed what they had to say. I would like to point out as a disclaimer, however, that Van Gough might not be the best example of depression as a good thing. He wasn't so much a brooder as an ear cutter-offer.

That being said, for those of you who have read Brave New World, where's the soma? I remember after reading that book carefully for the first time two years ago feeling sick to my stomach as I got to the end. The soma was just the means, but the power was given over by the people so long before. They just wanted to be happy. They just wanted to be safe. I look around at modern society and tremble in fear of where things may go.

I also like that Newsweek comments on the problems with stigmatizing normal reactions and trying to suppress them. I know of at least one instance where a couple broke because after one partner's daughter had been murdered the other partner didn't understand why she couldn't just "get over it." For myself I chiefly hate funerals because everyone is just so darn sad. It wouldn't be so bad if everyone weren't so sad.

I think that we have an emotionally castrated society; I honestly do. We all want to be happy, healthy, and good citizens. Kids are raised with a sense of entitlement to such happiness--if you prevent them from attaining that it's unfair, unAmerican. To be grief-stricken is more than simply not fun, it's downright rude. I won't lie, I generally hate being around melancholy people. I myself hate anyone knowing I'm melancholy. But having been around genuine depression there is definite difference between actual depression and heartbreak. And worse than either, I would say, is the systematic repression of negative feelings.

I see a lot of this as the culmination of the "self-esteem" rhetoric of the mid-late 90's. Suddenly kids were supposed to only have positive feedback and sports weren't supposed to be competitive. It was more important that our teenagers liked themselves than that they deserved to be liked or liked themselves. When combined with the natural self-centeredism of adolescent you end up with a person who thinks that their opinion is as valid as any other opinion because it's theirs. Obviously everyone gets to believe what they wish, but that doesn't make you right. What's more, judgments and ideologies were reclassified under the umbrella of opinion and so free of scrutiny. If thoughts were criticized or challenged it might hurt the student's feelings. Now we have a bunch of feel-good adolescents who are all concerned with personal happiness, even at the cost of someone else's.

I exaggerate, but not very much. Along with the loss of manners in society I feel like this feel good rhetoric, this drive to make kids happy, is all part of this drive to be "happy". The humorous side to all of this is that people are meaner and more confrontational then they have been in the past (it seems to me without data to quote at the moment) and suicide is still a big problem. Our constant pressure on appearance causes unhappiness while the industry continually profits from our purchasing of items to "fix" ourselves and so find "happiness". Meanwhile our appetite for schadenfraude, happiness in the misery of others, continues to grow. What does it say about our happiness when it comes at someone else's expense?

But that's the result of working towards being happy all the time. Of forgetting the natural rhythms of emotion and, more than that, repressing the societally taboo ones. I'm not sure this all makes as much sense as I wanted it to. Hopefully my train of thought hasn't been too difficult to follow.

I'm off to read Spenser. That makes me very unhappy, but I guess that's how I know it's good for me.

I wasn't planning on going here, but I just took a break from the homework to watch an episode of Boston Legal concerning the death penalty. I felt that perhaps before I did anything else today I should express my opinion to whomever will listen to me that the death penalty is barbarous, insane, and unworthy of any "civilized" country.

When I was little I bought into it--there are enough vestiges of the Wild West that it seemed like an apt punishment. Perhaps there was a time when hangings were a deterrent, or necessary due to lack of prison facilities. It was a different time. But even accounting for that, how many people were hung for crimes undeserving of death? I don't think I need to look up statistics to prove the answer is many. Then there were the witch trials--an example not as much of the death penalty gone awry as it is the consequence of allowing the government to kill citizens for crimes. Death as an acceptable punishment leads to abuse.

I think there are people that are dangers to society, serial killers, serial rapists, and pedophiles not least among them. I think, especially in the case of serial killers that there is a definite need to make sure said criminal is never released, never escapes, never hurts anyone again. Why keep someone alive who is beyond rehabilitation? More than that, does embody, to some degree, a degree of evil? But the issue, as it is with so many things of this nature, is how can you be sure? In a movie it's easy--you see everything. The character's thoughts and actions when no one's looking. But the problem is that people are not characters, and characters, no matter how well written, are not people. Perhaps with certain criminal leaders who possess the power to continue to hurt even from behind bars you can have overwhelming evidence, but short of that...how do you know?

Add to that the situation of unfair distribution of the death penalty. Without looking up statistics I know that it is true there are more minorities than whites in U.S. prisons. I also know that more minorities than whites are executed. Is this because minorities are inherently prone to criminal activity? Is it because their crimes are so much more heinous? Somehow I doubt it. And what crimes are deserving of the death penalty? Of life imprisonment without parole? Does a drug-addict who robs a convenience store and shoots the clerk deserve the same punishment as a rich, white man who systematically plans out the death of his wife? What about the guy who discovers his wife having an affair? What about a serial abuser? What about a poor man? Does it not matter why you kill someone or how many you kill? Should you die the moment you kill someone else, regardless of circumstance?

Add to this the propensity for abuse. Once you make it legal to kill people then you have all of these questions being interpreted and answered by judges all over the country, each with different values systems and agendas. Suddenly the crime of killing a little old lady serves as precedence for the execution of an almost retarded kid, addicted to drugs, who didn't know what he was doing.

My point is that so long as the death penalty remains in place our efforts are not towards rehabilitation. To claim they are is a lie and an insult to everyone with intelligence to see otherwise. Our efforts are solely towards punishment--if you do a thing we will make you wish you hadn't. What does that solve? There is the age-old argument of dissuasion; by allowing the death penalty criminals will be adverse to committing particularly heinous crimes. But how has that worked? We have more people in jail than most other countries. Again I'm not going to bother with statistics, but feel free to look them up. We have incredible drug laws, the consequences of which are so over the top compared to the crime as to be laughable. Carrying cocaine, not committing a crime while on cocaine but just possession can land you in jail for as long as rape. Tell me, please, how that makes sense? How can you doing something to your own body possibly be considered as horrific as the violation of someone else's? And yet still, people do drugs. Excellent job on preventing crime with that philosophy.

What I'm saying is that something is incredibly broken in our justice system. More than that, however, we have accepted the death penalty as necessary and even laudable. As with everything there are times when it is no doubt the answer--much like abortion I'm sure there are cases when it is both right and wrong. But like abortion it cannot be legislated. Once it is acceptable the precedence stands to abuse it. Just as once one part of abortion becomes illegal there is precedence to overturn it. And no matter how you feel about the death penalty personally, innocent people have been exonerated--after they were killed. Is it really okay to kill the innocent when a mistake is made? Is our triumph over the "evil" in mankind so total that we can excuse the "minor" mishaps? Does the old argument "nobody is innocent" really justify the continuance of a practice that kills people? Mistakes are made and the wrong person has been and will be executed. Tell me how that is acceptable? Because the greater good outweighs your right to live? If you answered yes I wonder if you would honestly have no objection to your government using you as a suicide bomber...against your will.

The greater good always seems like a good idea until it's us that is being sacrificed.

It's eleven thirty on a Saturday morning and you know what is wrong with that? I'm awake. It's a sad state of affairs when you wake up and the first thing you think is "How many hours do I have to do homework? Can I get it all done?" This is my not so exciting life. Though, in defense of my life I did go out and get snookered for the birthday of a relative so I can't complain overly much.

That's not important, though. What is important is that I have now seen The Godfather and The Godfather II. I can almost hear the music in my head as I type that. I don't know that I will bother to watch the third one. The second was incredibly depressing and the third one sounded like it was just a study in misery. I've learned several scary things about myself, however: first) that if we started a grad student mob I would totally be the Don--somehow my classmates have avoided becoming slight sociopaths, something I haven't; second) that while the mob isn't a good thing because, you know, they kill you, organized crime isn't such a bad way for crime to exist. They don't kill women and children (at least not Don Vitto) and they rarely if ever kill a man in front of his family. You might be killed for "good business" but you're almost always given a chance to save yourself. You're bullied, yes, asked to sell out, yes, but given your life if you want it. Gangs are not nearly that polite. Thinking about all the shootings of teenagers and children when I lived in Boston, sometimes by accident, sometimes not, and thinking about all the shootings here in Las Vegas--there's no rhyme or reason to gang violence. You can't plan for it or avoid it. Now obviously, when the mob goes to war with itself the rules change a little bit, people get sloppy, but gangs are always at war. The one thing the news doesn't exaggerate (so it often just doesn't report it) is how bad inner-city violence is. Anyway, that's my diatribe on my preferred criminal activity.

My other thought is how much like a warrior society the mob is made out to be in these movies. A lot of what they do is heartless and without compassion, but it's always for the best of whatever familial unit is acting. Really the reason why the mob is so repugnant is that they are a society within our society. We're taught not to like that, probably for good reason. But as I consider all the things mafia does that is so horrible--gun-running, drugs, slavery/prostitution--it occurs to me that two of those things our government currently does and the third we used too (and still allow at least the prostitution part in places). My point here is not to sing the praises of the mob, but more to point out that our government, and maybe most, is not nearly as different as we would all like to believe. Which is, admittedly, a depressing thought. I blame it on all the homework I've done this weekend.

Oh what is my point? I wish I knew. In between homework bouts I've been watching Boston Legal which is an absolutely fabulous show, but also prone to prompting heavy ethical/moral thoughts. That's not good for my lightheartedness. I can't think of any right now, though I have begun to think on a person's right to a fair trial and just how much I didn't believe that before now. Like everyone, of course, I believed that everyone should get a fair trial, but when I would watch shows, movies, or live cases on television with an obvious villain I would rejoice when the defense lawyer was outclassed. Or, if the defense won I was horrified at how broken the justice system was.

But Boston Legal offers another look. A look at someone's right to be defended fairly; even if they did it, even if you don't want them to go free, they have a right to prove reasonable doubt if they so choose. Kind of like free speech, it's at least, if not more, important that you fight for the people you hate because otherwise it isn't actually free. I have very mixed feelings about the justice system and that could be a discussion in and of itself, perhaps I will attempt to express them later, but for I'm not quite ready to put all of that in words. In any case, I am glad I've had opportunity to think about this fair trial business and realize my prejudice. There's also a fabulous episode on torture that is worthy of some talk as well.

Ah, now the thoughts come. Obviously I am awake. But it's time for me to read more feminist theory, become enraged and write a response paper. Maybe if you're really lucky I'll make you privy to that rage too.

Until then, I bid you adieu.

It's been five hours of homework and four of Boston Legal. That sounds like a Sinead O'Connor song. I feel mine is equally as depressing as hers anyway. I would not look nearly as hot with a shaved head, though. More like a sausage that was speckled only on one side.

That was a completely disgusting visual--I apologize to all of you.

Mostly I'm feeling guilty for watching so much Boston Legal, not having my homework done, and not having blogged when I told myself I was going to. In actuality I should hold off until I read my latest feminist theory book for class but I feel like I should remind everyone that I'm not actually an angry female all the time. Truly. This book is called Silences and it promises to get the blood flowing. I have no doubt.

I feel good though. Tired, stressed, but good. I think part of the problem my first semester here was that there was no challenge. I wasn't working on or for anything. I was going to school, but I didn't like my classes and the one's I might have liked were sub par due to various circumstances. This semester I have great classes that are promising to be an extreme amount of work. That makes me stressed; it means I'll be cloistered in my room doing homework. But it means I'm learning. It means I'm working for something and that is exciting. I'm only me when I'm pushing myself. Is that bad? It never occurred to me that characteristic might be something I need to look into. I think the only problem really is that I'm incapable of doing it to myself; instead I have to put myself into situations that force me to rise to the occasion.

On a tangential thought to that I wonder if that is why I have always gotten along with my brother so well. In my studies both in and out of school I have discovered there are people who see others more accomplished than them, smarter, quicker, more naturally talented, and say ah, I must improve. And then there are people that get angry at the accomplished person and hold their accomplishments against them. They're too smart, or too good. It's no fun to be around someone whom is constantly your superior. I have had it pointed out to me that I am of the former group--perhaps some of you wouldn't agree, but I believe myself to be of the former group anyway. I don't enjoy playing games when there's no real competition, and I don't enjoy discussions with someone who is only interested in arguing instead of dialoguing, but when faced with someone better than I am at something my first impulse is to practice. I need to improve so that I can come back and kick said ass.

My brother is very often better at things than I am. How much of that is due to extraneous factors I don't know and don't care. I don't think he won the genetic lottery nor do I think he has undue advantages from life. Rather he has a very analytical mind and that allows him a certain advantage in most games. My mind enjoys pretending to be analytical, but I don't believe it is my natural state. Couple with that my being four years younger my motor skills were slower to develop as well. This meant that for much of our childhood I was constantly striving to put up a challenge. I imagine for some people that would have been frustrating or demeaning. For me is was fantastic. When I gave him a run for his money it was so exciting; the thrill of having improved was incredible. The first time I beat him at a game I jumped up and down because the victory was sweet. Not because he had messed up or I had cheated, but because I had worked for that and I won. It was a Nintendo game and I could still tell you which one. I remember because it was the first time in my life that I realized if I was willing to work--if I was willing to lose while I learned how to win--I could be as good at something as I wanted to be.

The only exception I have found to that rule so far is bowling and mini-golf. Fate just mocks me with those two.

I share this because I know and know of people who can't take the loss. Either because it isn't in their genetic make-up or because they've lost too many times I don't know. I've witnessed people in classrooms attack or back bite because the idea that someone might be smarter or more insightful is poisonous to them. I've seen my own friends and family nearly come to blows over games. Games that don't even matter.

Life isn't particularly fair and oftentimes we can't succeed at everything we attempt. You don't get hired, or accepted, or asked out, or whatever and that's just the way it is. Sometimes you are just not as good at something as someone else. But the thought I find myself rolling around in my head is, when does it start to matter? When and why does a lack of accomplishment/victory denote a loss of respect? If I fail out of school which isn't likely, but completely possible, there are people that would say they were so very sorry for me while secretly laughing inside. I can't imagine feeling that way over anything.

I have taken pleasure in people's pain; it's not something I'm proud of, but I won't deny it. But never real pain, never serious pain. Taking pleasure in someone else's failure seems to me sadism--is it not the same feelings that go through people that torture, just on a smaller scale? But where is all of this taking us you ask, and it is a good question.

I think that where I'm going is that I'm glad to be challenged, ecstatic even. I'm not happy when I'm not challenged--not really. But I only really enjoy it when it is surmountable. No matter how hard, it still needs to be doable. And challenges, whether you are challenged or challenging (no pun intended) are only enjoyable when there's a chance of victory for both. That's why games aren't fun when there's an obviously skilled opponent on one side.

It's fun and necessary to lose sometimes so that you can still be excited when you win.

That's why I'm glad I'm having a hard time this semester. If school were too easy why would I be in it? Why would I need it? But more than that, I'm glad that I can generally have as much fun failing spectacularly as I can winning. I'm glad that my self-image is not tied up completely in failing. Oh, it still hurts me to fall short, but I've failed spectacularly so many times in my life that I've long since learned that there is more to me than my actions. Despite that, though, I am only what I try to be.

This is an odd post, it's true. I'm not sure what prompted all these musings. You'll notice a link on the right. That is my blog required by one of my classes at school. There is no link from that blog to this one as my teacher will be reading the other. It is my response to the field of Composition as we read articles this semester. Feel free to check it out and leave comments if you desire, but I can't promise the excitement of what you'll find there.

In any case, I think I better watch at least one more Boston Legal before I go to bed. I bid you good night.

I just finished A Room of One's Own, watching this time instead of reading, and I really need to write about it. I was maybe going to discuss it earlier and I got distracted (as is wont to happen).

Virginia Woolf seems to me a classic case of a woman that doesn't want to accept that she's a woman. What I mean by that is, her goal, for writer's at least, is androgyny. She claims this is necessary because if you exist as man or woman purely, if you speak in any way consciously of what you are, it will be fatal. Your work, what seems brilliant and relevant in the moment will "wither and die by nightfall." I ask you, how can discussing things from the perspective of myself doom me by dent of my being one gender instead of two? I know what Woolf is trying to say, that we must each of us be dialogic, aware of not only ourselves but all others and how we all relate, but the way she does it with the exclusion of characteristics instead of the working with/through said characteristics leaves me sad and disheartened.

I am a woman and will never know what it is like to be a man, not truly. There are socially-gendered activities that might be considered "manly" that I have and will partake in, but that does not make me a womanly-man or show me what it would be like to be male. We can, and I think we should, work to abolish the constructed roles we place around gender, but we should not forget that it is different to be a man than it is to be a woman and that is natural. And I think, furthermore, that if one strives for androgyny instead of inclusiveness that it is a sign that some of society's constructed gender roles have been internalized. What does it mean for me to take issue with misogyny, much as Woolf does even as she argues for androgyny, in my writing? Does that weaken me as a writer truly? I understand that persuasiveness is more appealing that argumentation, but can I not argue sweetly and persuasively that society should treat men and women equally?

What I am trying to say, I think, is that everyone's experience is different. Man or woman, none of us experiences life the same way. These experiences are shaped by our age, culture, era, and, yes, gender. For better or worse if we are to understand each other, we must first understand ourselves. If I am to transcend understanding of women to an understanding of society, I must first understand women and society. Just because I do not acknowledge the effect of society upon my thoughts does not mean the effect is not there.

I am struck most by how Virginia Woolf seems to precede her time in thought and philosophy and how that very genius seems to be what dooms her. I see her espousing the philosophy of the Enlightenment, especially at the end as she discusses how we, women, must prepare for the next coming of Shakespeare’s sister. We must embrace “reality” instead of only the male/female binary. I agree with her completely, but it seems to me she is arguing for dialogism--not a search for the truth, but an understanding of all truths.

I can't help but think of the attitudes expressed in my own family and how so many female acquaintances in my life, much like Woolf attempt to "transcend' their femininity by ignoring it. This accounts I would say in part for my sadness when I read this. I come from a family of tough people and tough women and to show emotion is to show weakness. You can show happiness to a degree, anger in spades, but no sadness. No pain. Such tender emotions are "women's" emotions and strong people don't feel them, let alone show them. It seems for some members of my family the obvious answer to misogyny is to simply do away with femininity. I can't, and won't, believe that is true.

I've watched people in my life take this attitude to the extreme--never crying in public, rarely admitting to crying at all. Holding back grief and boasting of their ability to resist tears even at funerals. I've watched those same people steadily lose their grip on reality. In their on-going struggle to be strong, they have begun to fight themselves. Human beings are not emotionless creatures; even the most staid of us feel something. To ignore these feelings or not acknowledge them is not to strengthen ourselves but to hurt ourselves, to repress and struggle with all we don't like. I've watched people descend into insanity because of it, losing touch with the humanity their fighting so desperately to perfect.

This is all of roundabout way of saying that I’m glad I finally read this text because it’s an important reminder of why I must embrace all that I am, not just the parts that I like best.

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I read these articles knowing what my reaction will be and then burden you all with my reaction? I wish I had an answer. I have so much to do--books to read, a class to plan, a paper to type, but instead I'm on msn reading silly comments by silly people. Canada is going to instate a "one person, one fare" rule next year that, along with only requiring obese air-plane passengers to purchase one ticket, also states that someone with a severe disability, even one resulting from obesity, that must fly with an aide need only pay one fare. America's reactions are found here: http://boards.msn.com/MSNBCboards/thread.aspx?boardid=512&ThreadID=537907&BoardsParam=HIPDelay%3d1

The disability associations are ecstatic; after all, now if you have a disability you don't have to pay double for it. However, all of skinny America is horrendously appalled because fat people crowd others on airplanes and now fat people who need help will be getting two seats for the price of one. It's un-American I tell you, which is probably why Canada is the country that passed the law.

I know fat people are annoying on airplanes, I'm one of them. Part of the reason I always request an aisle seat is so that I can sprawl into the aisle away from whomever is sitting next to me. I don't spill over on an airplane, but I certainly fill my seat to capacity. What bothers me, though, is that a person's size has become an issue of manners. It's a personal affront when you are too fat for the seats that, everyone by the way agrees, are too small. This doesn't surprise me. Much in the same way no one wants to sit next to a crying child or a loud, out of control retarded person, anything that increases discomfort in an uncomfortable situation is frustrating.

I would say, however, that no one suggests (at least out loud) that a child or a retarded person be muffled so as to improve the comfort of those around them.

It's all part and parcel of my ongoing disillusionment with the American dream. It is consistently the consumer's fault and never the businesses. If airplanes are uncomfortable then we need to do whatever we can to improve the situation ourselves, we shouldn't demand larger seats or more leg room. We accept this because the air line is out to make money and we shouldn't impede them. Does that logic make no one else a little sick to their stomach? I'm not talking specifically about obesity here or bigotry towards fat people, but rather a shift in our beliefs that the customer is never right, at least not when the customer inconveniences us. When we, as a culture, accepted that all problems with the services provided were caused by customers instead of companies abilities to deal with customers and meet their needs, our "dream" made a very disturbing shift. If my problems with your services are my fault then the service is no longer at fault and the public must change to fit the demands of the business instead of the other way around. That's not so much a free society at that point.

And yes, I know fat people don't have to fly. We all, supposedly, have freedom of choice. But another issue that bothers me is that we still think of fat as something that can be quit cold-turkey, like smoking, drugs, or some other morally depraved behavior. What if the fat person is on a diet? What if they're just fat? Nobody cares what the reasons for the fatness are or even if the fat person is in the process of losing weight, the holiest of activities in American society at the moment. All anyone actually cares about is that they are sitting next to a "Walrus". The derogatory terms applied to people that classify them wholly on their appearance bother me. Because we all believe that fat is a choice (or at least something that can be changed in the privacy of one's own home before it affects the rest of us) we feel entitled to call people names like "walrus" and whatever else is on that message board.

There was a time when white people didn't want to sit next to black people because black people were dirty. Is the difference really so great?

Our sense of personal entitlement outweighs everything else. I'm entitled to my space. I'm entitled to my comfort. I'm entitled to not have to share my space or comfort with an unattractive person. Stinky is annoying, fat is annoying, sick is annoying, nasal wheeze is annoying. All of these things are annoying, but no one makes a stinky person buy two seats because they smell do they? Maybe they do, it wouldn't surprise me. When our comfort is brought up against someone else's comfort there is rarely a situation where compromise seems acceptable. If you weren't so fat we wouldn't be in this situation people might say. And, perhaps, they are right. But I am fat and this situation is where we are. So what makes a better person, to accept it and make do, or to roll his eyes and smirk at his friend then write the airline and demand that I and others like me pay for two seats?

I'm not saying that others should be inconvenienced unduly for fat people, though, it might bear some thought that being fat is generally uncomfortable on a plane all the time, not just when we sit next to ourselves. What I am saying is that, for better or worse, America is getting bigger. Not just fatter, but bigger. But we hate each other instead of demanding that our economy react appropriately. We call each other derogatory names instead of attempting to understand that the one making us uncomfortable is just as uncomfortable, if not more so. We judge based on appearance because ugly things carry no worth any more. And yes, I think we think of each other, more often than not, in terms of "things."

So nobody wants to sit next to the fat kid on the airplane, but why shouldn't the airplane have to make bigger seats?

Here's another moral/ethical dilemma for you. This comes from Beauty and the Beast and is shocking because it doesn't have to do with issues of bestiality and also, that this show could provide any moral conundrum of any report.

A man is on trial for killing his son. An indisputable physical abuser it is known that he beat his wife and his children, but the elder child maintains he was with her during the time the crime was committed. The wife is unable to testify after she breaks down on the stand. All she gets out is that she originally lied to the cops when she told them her husband had been gone. We the viewer know this man is guilty, but putting myself in the place of the juror, is there reasonable doubt there?

The credibility of the elder child is suspect after it is revealed that she too was physically abused by her father and that she lied when asked previously if she knew he was abusive to his wife and son. That lack of credibility might be enough not to believe her when she maintains that he was with her all night, but interpreted another way it might also be stronger proof that she was. It all depends if she is scared of her father or seeking revenge. Because of the way the character was portrayed I didn't get the impression (even though I knew I was supposed to) that she was clinging desperately to an obvious lie. The worst part was in the closing statements our heroine, also the prosecuting attorney, asked the jury to ignore the lack of evidence in the case and decide with their hearts what they knew to be "true".

It's entirely possible, and when I say entirely possible what I mean is it is true, that if this show were better written many of these issues wouldn't come up. You would know more obviously the girl was a victim and clinging to a lie, you would have a much better case for the defense that didn't rely completely on the emotions of the jury. But the show is what it is and I am left asking the question, do we want a jury to decide a murder case based on what they "know to be true" or on what the evidence shows to be true? I am very hesitant to put my justice system in the hands of pure emotion.

Emotion isn't bad. Emotion plays in part with context and you have to have more than logical deduction to understand how context plays into human interaction. However, courts are supposed to decide, beyond a reasonable doubt, if someone is innocent or guilty and while you might "know" someone is guilty is there still a reasonable doubt that you might be wrong? How often are we so sure we know what we know only to be proven wrong? There are countless times in my life that I have been sure I was correct and when challenged I have sought out the answer via internet or encyclopedia, not because I had to prove I was right, but because if what I believed so whole-heartedly was wrong I really needed to fix myself. The stakes are lower in those situations, but isn't that all the more indicative of how we should be extra careful when in court rooms?

Our need to mete out "justice" has led to us being one of a handful of countries in the world that administers the death penalty to children, or adults for crimes they committed while under fifteen. We try nine year olds as adults for certain crimes. We keep such illustrious company as Iran, Pakistan, and Saudi Arabia, the very countries we hold up as examples of what not to do as we continue fighting this ridiculous war. That our criminal justice system is broken isn't my point here--I think that one is fairly obvious. My point, rather, is what do you do as a juror in this situation. Is it better to go with what you know to be true and risk putting an innocent man in jail, or go only with the evidence and risk letting a wife-beating, child-abuser free? Blackstone is credited with saying that it is better to let ten guilty men go free than to imprison one innocent man.

Is that true? And if so is there a cap on guilty men that should go free before we risk imprisonment of one innocent? Even if there isn't if we agree with the 10:1 ratio we are stating that good of the one outweighs the good of the many. That is, assuming the guilty men continue doing illegal things or even accounting for the victims of whatever crimes the guilty committed, we are placing the good the unjustly accused innocent above all of that. I should probably mention at this point I wouldn't put a cap on my guilty number as I would always error on the side of the innocent--at least I think I would.

And so I'm back to my conundrum. The only way to prevent putting an innocent man in jail is too look at the evidence and so, even if I'm sure the man is guilty, the reasonable doubt tells me I must let him go. But sometimes the evidence, as gathered and presented by human beings, is flawed and so only looking at that might also result in the conviction of an innocent. There doesn't seem to be, therefore, an answer.

What is that crap? I hate questions without answers. That's not true, I love them, but usually I can ferret out some answer, at least for myself. Here, as with last time, I have no idea how it should be done.

I should remark on the previous post that the best line of the show was when the judge told the man that his reparations would be legal not equitable and she would never order a woman to have an abortion. I think she was right and I think it true that a woman should be convicted for the misuse of sperm (or whatever we want to label it) as I also want to clarify that I don't believe the court should order abortions.

The wheels in my head go round and round. Perhaps I will present some of these issues to my students to sharpen their skills of cognition. But I can already see at least one of their answers: throw his ass in jail. Their justice is swift and without mercy. I would feel better about that if I didn't know that many of them, if given the chance, would shoot a kid to ensure a utopia.

Ah the youth of our country.

I'm really tired, but I really want to talk about this. We'll see how it goes.

I just finished an episode of Boston Legal and, like all such episodes, it was entertaining and witty. However, this particular one addressed an issue that I've been wrestling with most of my life--abortion rights. Not rights for the woman, at least not only rights for the woman, but specifically rights for the man.

The situation set up in the show is as follows: crazy woman seduces man into allowing her to perform fellatio on him. She spits his semen back out into a test-tube, takes it the fertility clinic and, unbeknownst to him, impregnates herself. He, not wanting to have a child with this woman and not wanting to be an absentee father, sues her for an abortion.

I know, I know--you can't let the courts go around ordering women to have abortions, that's akin to ordering women to not have abortions. I get it. But it does raise an issue that I feel has become lost in this great debate over whether we should or shouldn't--the man's rights. And yes, I do think the man has some rights.

Part of the problem with this topic in America is that we still argue over the legality of it; so stuck are we on whether it should or shouldn't be allowed that there is no room for deeper more evolved ethical thought. We can't begin to consider the issue of male rights because they might jeopardize the female's right to have an abortion. But assuming we can put all the theological stuff on the side for a minute--what should the course of action be when a woman unlawfully takes the sperm of a man? While the fellatio might have been consensual, I think I would consider this act something akin to sexual assault at least. But more importantly, are his only options to be an absentee father or tied for life to a crazy woman? He could sue her for custody once the child was born, but what if he doesn't want a child yet? And if you don't want a child but aren't prepared to be a poor father figure does that mean you are simply out of options?

At no point am I claiming that anyone should be able to make a decision for another human being's body, but I'm disturbed by the ethical dilemma here. Disturbed because I refuse to accept "the man just doesn't count." While it is the woman's body that is gestating the child, the child is half his and will affect him for the rest of his life as it will her. To rule out any civil rights on his part seems as wrong as it is to rule out any civil rights on her part. To cut the man out of the conversation is to, in fact, cut out half of the conversation. This isn't a situation that concerns only her--the pregnancy yes, the actual raising of the child, no.

It would be different if they had sex, vaginally that is. But when engaging in oral sex there should be no chance of conception there. If a man has to consider any ejaculation in the presence of a female as possible means for a pregnancy what ramifications does that carry? Because the technology allowed for her to do what she did her pregnancy is unnatural to some degree to begin with. All-in-all I wouldn't say this is an easy question and I, surprise surprise, don't have an answer for you.

What I do know is this: an increase in civil rights for some cannot come at the loss of civil rights for others. I don't mean the loss of a white man's right to ride at the front of the bus, or a man's right to beat his wife. I wouldn't consider those things civil rights. But while concessions might have to be made, affirmative action, abortion resting solely in the hands of the woman, shouldn't we be looking forward to the next step? To a better solution? A time when race and class are no longer so connected and a man has a say in whether or not a child is born?

I know it won't ever be completely fair; after all, you can't ever make a woman carry a baby to term and I'm pretty sure you shouldn't ever make a woman abort a fetus, but shouldn't there be some legal ramifications for a woman stealing a man's sperm? Shouldn't he have some recourse?

That's as far as I've gotten. What there should be, but no idea what that "should" entails. I don't know that it matters exactly, it's just a thought resparked by a television show, but it bears consideration. I think sometimes in our rush to point out how men objectify women we forget that men objectify themselves as well. Who knew men were people too.

I didn't know if I was going to write tonight or not, but now it looks like I'm gonna. Heath Ledger died today and I was torn between mentioning it, not mentioning it, or just not writing. I guess I'll just say it is tragic and unexpected and move on.

The other topic that moved me to write was an article I saw on msn. I know, try to hold back your shock. The article is titled "Obesity Surgery May Cure Diabetes" and is found here http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22787261/ Now, before you get irritated and close me down for ranting about obesity in America again I promise my problems aren't what you would think. Well, they are but not wholly.

It's become a pet peeve of mine that article titles strive to hook the readers, often with false information. The article labeling the new strain of staph as the new "gay disease" did it and now so does this one. In both articles it is clarified, in this case that the surgery doesn't cure all diabetes only particular types and that the study (which isn't much of a study yet) shows people who've undergone the surgery are five times more likely to cease needing diabetes medications than those participating in dietary plans. That's a lot different than surgery curing diabetes.

This bothers me because, frankly, the surgery bothers me. I consider Victorian women having ribs removed to make their waists look smaller, needing fainting couches because their corsets were too tight, Chinese women binding their feet and other beauty fads and wonder how history will look on our modern society of plastic surgery and obesity surgery. On the one hand I understand why the extremely obese might opt for surgery and even why it might be helpful or necessary. On the other hand it is mutilation of a body and that never sits well with me.

Often after having the surgery patients can't eat--subsisting on protein shakes for days they eventually move up to small portions of food that are very controlled as their stomach won't tolerate normal American-fare anymore. Perhaps to those who see fat people losing weight this all seems like a wonderful thing and I'm not arguing the principle of the matter, but the reality...what is truly accomplished by looking to surgery so quickly and completely? What does it mean that we would rather cut ourselves open and reform our stomachs than work with what we have? What does it mean that we would rather pay for one single operation that forces weight loss on the fat than offer acceptance of their obesity?

It's a simple question of self-mutilation. When I was a teenager I used to dream of the day they would invent a pill I could take that would turn me into Jessica Rabbit. Wouldn't that be spectacular I thought to myself? If I could just take a pill that would make my body what it was supposed to be then all the hot guys in high school would want me, and then I would be loved, and then I wouldn't be unhappy. Well now they've done it. It's not a pill, but it's almost as good. The only problem is, after surgery you have to be willing to starve for a little while until, like an anorexic, you are no longer hungry much of the time. Why the surgery? Why not just put the obese on the diet prescribed to post surgery patients? Because without cutting up the stomach it isn't doable? What does that tell us? What does that mean for how we're treating the patients?

In the end, what I'm getting at is this: we accept that the people who are marginalized are the cause of all our society's ills--the fat, the smokers, the immigrants. To that end we support whole-heartedly whatever our society does to deal with these problem-causing miscreants--loss of civil rights, mutilation, deportation. But we never stop to wonder if everything we're told is true, or if those we hate are just convenient targets. What has a fat person done to you lately really? Been unattractive? Sat next to you on a plane? Eaten your baby? Smokers I get, walking into a smoky restaurant is annoying and hard on non-smokers, sometimes even on fellow smokers. But what about bars that want to include smoking? What about people that like smoking or don't mind places where people smoke? We let the KKK gather peaceably, why can't smokers? And when is the last time you lost a job because an illegal immigrant swooped in and stole it from you? There you were, just dying for that phone call from MacDonald's but instead you stopped by and saw Paco sweeping out behind what should have been your counter! That's what I thought.

But hey, it's cool. Fat people need intervention or they wouldn't be fat, so the surgery is a good thing. And every dollar they cost the insurance company is a dollar you could have saved. But to that I have to ask, is that the fat person's fault, or the insurance companies? Is so much easier to hate and blame each other than it is to accept responsibility. This society we've created, this place that worships the holy dollar--is it really what we all thought it was when we were kids? Is anything really okay so long as it's "just business"? When did people cease to carry worth that couldn't be measured in loss/profits?

I've got a ten minute window so we'll see how much comes out. I'm back into the swing of school and that means my mind is once again contemplating the great thoughts of a contemplator (yes that sentence was on purpose).

While talking with a friend of mine today we were discussing the necessity of dress codes in the work place and also the freedom of stereotyping allowed in society due to said dress codes. This got me thinking about what it means to look "professional". People don't want to be served food by someone with piercings and companies don't want you to associate them with a receptionist covered in tattoos. I've long since stopped really questioning the right or wrongness of these actions since it all comes down to business. We hold the mighty dollar sacred in our capitalist society and justify some of our more egregious behaviors in the name of "business." In fact, we've excused ourselves with this for so long that we have stopped wondering if this is how "business" should be run.

If you said you don't want to be served your food by a black man or a Pakistani you would be called, rightfully, racist. If you said you don't want to see a waiter at a fine establishment spouting tattoos and piercings people would mumble understandingly. To some degree there is a difference in that you choose a tattoo or a piercing, but judging someone based on their appearance is still stereotyping. After all, what do you know about someone spouting tattoos or an eyebrow ring? What do those facial markers really tell you about the person?

But we are given the choice in our country of where to work. And so if choose to work for a company you choose to obey their dress code. If you don’t want to than you can choose to work elsewhere. This is all true. But we don’t allow racist shop owners to ask that their employees also be racist. So when an employers standards are ludicrous the government puts a stop to it. The question then becomes, are dress codes ludicrous or understandable? Does dress tell you something more about a person than that they know how to conform to standard strictures of society? I’m not sure that it does.

I’ve thought about this for most of the day now and I’m beginning to see how so many of our horrendous cultural behaviors, sexism, lookism, classism, have been driven from the popular discourse and forced into the refuge of the business world. Pretty people sell more so pretty people get hired more. It sucks, but that’s the way it is. But is that the way it should be? By allowing companies to enforce dress codes (speaking specifically of dress codes that have nothing to do with the job being done or inhibit said job) on their employees? Are we, as consumers, just perpetuating the stereotypes and more inhumane beliefs of our culture by continuously supporting this separation of people based on looks, dress, and actions?

I tell my students every semester that they will be judged on how they speak. I also dress “appropriately” for class and for job interviews. I understand the game; I conform. But what am I doing when I do so? I need a job, I don’t really, realistically that is, have the option of engaging in behavior that keeps me from employment. And, if I am forced to engage in specific behavior to achieve the means to support myself is it really a free choice how I dress and act?

This is still a thought process at work and I’m sure I will revisit it soon. In the meantime I offer this as food for thought. Is it really justification when it’s “just business”?

Vacation is over, school starts Tuesday and it's time for me to get back into the swing of things. I know for many of you there isn't much sympathy since your vacation ended the day after Christmas, and I'm not asking for any, just stating the obvious.

I've been a bit incognito the last two weeks--little email, fewer phone calls, and not much interaction with those I know. During that time I vacationed in the southwest like it was going out of style; I saw all of Las Vegas, some of it twice, L.A., San Diego, the Grand Canyon and more. As tired as I am now at the end of it all I am also rejuvenated, ready to enter back into the world at large. And I'm not unexcited for school to start, but neither do I relish the idea of hashing out my class, writing a syllabus, and beginning my next academic semester. I didn't really have a good first semester; it wasn't bad, but it wasn't my best. The question I'm faced with now is whether or not this semester will prove any different.

So what is the point of all of this rambling? Twofold--first to get back in the habit of blogging and second to try and find a thought that is worth rambling about. I'm not having very good luck.

In Thailand they seized a shipment of rat snakes from a plane, the second such shipment to be seized in the past year. I would like to point out the extreme negligence of the media in reporting that there are actually snakes on a plane--in fact, the very, very last thing I ever need to know is that snakes are ever shipped aboard a commercial flight. Very, very last thing I need to know.

Also there is a new strain of antibiotic resistant staph that is being labeled the new "gay disease". That one's a bit more disturbing since half-way through the article they finally acknowledge it isn't a "gay disease" at all, but the title and the first half of what is written doesn't make this clear. As a reporter you know people read the taglines for information, doesn't it seem a bit irresponsible to use a misleading, not to mention damaging, heading like that?

And I have finally seen both Evil Dead movies. I feel as if a large part of my movie education has been fulfilled now. It does behoove me to mention, however, that being raped by a tree, vines, or any other foliage is really uncool. It isn't as graphic and obvious in Evil Dead II and it was in Evil Dead, but that didn't make it less disturbing. I'm very anti rape by plant life. Aside from the wrongness of the situation there are other matters to consider like bark, little limbs sticking out on all sides, and possibly thorns. These are all issues a person doesn't have to worry about with normal rape, even rape of a demon variety. I can take tentacles, I can even take people, but don't be showing me possessed trees. Maybe the only thing worse than that is aliens.

Which brings to mind Aliens vs. Predator Requiem. In case some of you missed this masterpiece I really can't recommend you see it. It isn't all that good and it breaks the rules of horror movies for little more reason than the sake of breaking rules, something I'm never in support of. I thought of this because while no one is ever raped by the aliens in the traditional sense, there is some disturbing eating of one woman's uterus, and some even more disturbing use of a pregnant lady to hatch more aliens. This movie doesn't just kill kids, it kills babies and pregnant ladies. And it doesn't just kill the pregnant ladies (in labor no less) it corrupts their bodies and pregnancies to hatch more aliens (because of the predator/alien hybrid as seen at the end of the first AVP apparently has a completely different reproductive system). All of this could be very scary and very disturbing, but because there isn't really any point or reason to the decisions the writers or director makes it really just ends up being an exercise in horror movie masturbation. And to top it all off, in a moment which truly shows the ignorance of this movies education regarding women's bodies, the queen lays her eggs in the pregnant lady via the mouth and the aliens hatch out of her formerly fetus filled uterus. Aside from the ridiculousness of this scenario there is the very simple fact that women's digestive tracts don't connect to their reproductive system. Unless the director was figuring on the eggs somehow traveling through the placenta, but that's just dumb. Just like a stupid person to think that women are nothing but a giant cavity of emptiness waiting to be filled via vagina or mouth. I mock them all from afar and scoff at them for ruining what should have been a perfectly fun gore-filled adventure.

And that prompts me to jump to my last thought of this somewhat unconnected rambling--where have all the good action-horror movies gone? I'm not talking scary like The Ring or The Grudge or incredibly disturbing like Saw. I'm talking good old fashioned some thing monstrous kills a lot of people in a fairly entertaining, slightly frightening, but always ludicrous way. And the good guy wins. I miss those movies. I miss movies that sought to entertain, not always to disturb. And I miss movies that carried the capability of frightening the audience without permanently scarring the audience. Any more it seems the industry is more interested in the shock value, what can be shown that you would never want to see? What can be done to these characters that you'll wish you hadn't seen? How can the monsters do more than just kill people, but violate them as well? I see more and more of a trend that relies less on storytelling or really cool effects and much, much more, on grotesque images. That's just laziness.

Anyway, that's all I got right now. All I'm really doing is trying to put off schoolwork but the time has come. Next time I have a truly brilliant thought I'll do what I can to share it with you. Until then, same bat time, same bat channel.

I'm in a special place right now. I took in a double feature tonight with a viewing of Phantom at the Venetian followed up by a midnight viewing of Cloverfield. It was somewhat of an odd combination for shows I'll admit but they both carry a sort of survival theme to theme. That is, how would you survive if your life was threatened?

As to Phantom that's an easy one--I would totally die. We've already discussed this. I have horrible taste in men that happen to also be pathological murderers and so my survival instincts would do nothing for me in that case. But Cloverfield, that's a more interesting question to ponder.

I will do my best not to give away any parts of the movie so you need not worry about spoilers. I will say only this: I became very involved in the movie and acted nearly instinctually while still in my chair. I believe, therefore, that I could use my reactions as a starting point in guessing what I would do should a giant monster attack my city and threaten my life.

I have an amazing flight response. My need to survive astounds even me sometimes. It isn't that I fear death, and it isn't even my fear of pain (though my aversion to being killed has everything to do with the pain it will cause me and little to do with the death itself) but I have a nearly overwhelming need to survive. Maybe it's the writer in me; I want to live so that I can tell the story. Maybe it's because I genuinely like living and so want to continue for more than simple instinctual reasons. But, whatever the case, I would run like hell and do my best to get myself and my friends out of there.

Sometimes, however, you can't simply run. If you live in Manhattan, for example, you're on an island. Living in Las Vegas I would be totally screwed cause I'm in the middle of the desert. That's almost as good as living on an island. Also, if there are people in town you love you can't just leave them. Until you know for sure they are dead you need to attempt to get everyone out.

However, if someone is most likely dead when is it okay to leave them behind? I'm not sure I would want my friends to come back for me even though if they did and we all somehow survived that would be really awesome. I would probably go back for my friends, but not if I thought they were dead. But maybe so--my need to survive is tempered by my need not to be a complete and utter asshole. So when is an appropriate time to assume someone is dead?

These are all questions that plague me when considering attacked-by-giant-monster scenarios. I do take comfort, though, in the knowledge that the first thing I would do would be to grab a baseball bat or weapon of some kind. I really should get a bat--it's a handy thing to have in one's house, and perhaps an axe as well. Both are excellent weapons that suit my particular fighting abilities well. I'm not much of a swashbuckler, but I played softball and I know I could beat the crap out of something.

I think in the end, that I would find a good defensible position, several useful weapons, a stockpile of food and water, hole up and wait it out. This strategy would be useful for not only attacked-by-giant-monster scenarios, but also vampires, werewolves, zombies, and human mobs. I am still plagued by the question of whether or not I would leave my excellently defended position to come save my friends, however. It's hard to give up a safe place for possible certain death (if such a thing as "possible certain death" is possible) but if you don't go for your friend how do you live with yourself? And I know what everyone is thinking right now. You're all thinking "I would totally come for you Jess" but let's be honest, none of us actually know what we would do since we have yet to be attacked by a giant monster, and even if you did come for me there's no guarantee you would make it and what good does that do anyone?

Once, while watching The Day After Tomorrow the friend next to me turned during the scene everyone was freezing to death and starving and said, "you know if that happened I would kill you and eat you so as to survive." I was horrified, still am actually, but I appreciate his honesty. On the one hand it shows me that my taste in male friends is as horrible as my taste in male romances, but on the other hand it's comforting to know that I have a friend that concerned with survival. That shows me that, assuming I kept him from killing and eating me, if I stuck with him we could survive. And that's a comforting thought.

So there you have it, whatever "it" is. What would you do if the world ended tomorrow? And does one put a catch-all plan in place or do you try to work up a plan for different scenarios? It isn't an easy question and not one that will be answered any time soon. Perhaps I will work up a list of survival plans to share with you all. Then if I don't come back for you in the heat of things, at least you'll know what I'll be doing.

It's a special night my friends. Tonight we don't dine in hell. No, nor do we stop the forces of darkness from over-running the good and free peoples of Middle Earth. Tonight we gouge evil out of its shell. That's right. Gouge evil. Out of its shell. That is just one of many life changing quotes from my cinematic experience this evening.

I just saw In The Name Of The King and it is perhaps the greatest, most astounding piece of epic medieval sword-fighting cinema ever to grace that delicate silver screen since Dungeons and Dragons. I know it seems like a ludicrous claim to you, after all, nothing could be better than Dungeons and Dragons and in all honesty, until tonight, I thought nothing was. Except perhaps Kull the Conqueror. But In The Name of the King puts them all to shame.

This movie has sword fights, magic fights, and magic sword fights. This movie has a farmer known simply as "Farmer" because he believes "people should be known by what they do." This is only a piece of his wisdom, but you only need a piece of the wisdom because Farmer farms turnips and knows kung fu. How does he know kung fu? We don't know. It's inherent because he is a great man and all great men know kung fu. But more amazing than any of the fighting or the magic, or the fantastic dialogue...is Burt Reynolds. That's right. Burt Reynolds plays the king. Why is Burt in this movie? I don't know--maybe he was bored, maybe he was hard up for cash, maybe he was inspired by the script.

But the cast doesn't stop at Burt Reynolds. There is John Rhys-Davies, Ron Perlman, Leelee Sobrieski, and the incomparable Ray Liotta. Ray Liotta who is dressed like Liberaci for most of the movie, and carries all the evil weight of a magic card player gone bad. I'm confused as to how this movie came to be. It perplexes me how these people were talked into starring in it. Did some say it would be like Willow? It would be if there was a midget and it was good. At times they seem to steal footage from LOTR, not to mention the battle between the old mages at the end that doesn't just bring Obi-Won and Darth Vader to mind, but very nearly plagiarizes the scene from of Obi-Won's death.

But I laughed--I laughed through the whole thing. And the really weird part was the music wasn't half bad. But it didn't always fit the mood exactly, and often times was so sweepingly melodramatic that you felt like the movie must be a comedy. In fact, as a comedy it almost works. I would buy it as a spoof of a swords and sorcerers movie. But as a serious movie? While it does get better as the movie progresses it doesn't get that good. You get the impression that Burt Reynolds isn't laughing in some scenes because it's in the script, but very specifically because he can't keep a straight face.

And I really shouldn't forget Matthew Lilliard. He is the star of this little production. He plays the sniveling, backstabbing nephew to perfection, even going so far as to produce flying spittle in multiple scenes. It's a thing of beauty and he really does a lot to make the movie incredibly enjoyable.

It was a good time. I feel like anytime I'm presented a story set in a medieval world where my hero is a scimitar wielding, boomerang throwing, kung fu farmer named Farmer I can't help but be entertained.

I had planned multiple times over this weekend to share many life changing moments with you. I've been to L.A. and San Diego. My car has officially driven coast to coast, and I have been in the Pacific Ocean now along with the Atlantic and the Gulf of Mexico. I've seen the Hollywood sign and talked taken a stress tests from scientologists. It's been a busy weekend and I've got another week of fun before things calm down. But I give instead of all of that this musing on In The Name of the King.

Go now and gouge evil from its shell.