Some Things Are Just Disturbing

 I mean, like, why?

Why does such crap and drivel like The Human Centipede exist. Well? It's probably like porn. Where everyone tires their best to stare at the screen the longest in some kind of double-dare situation. The images become paramount, only merely bolstered by something resembling a plot just to get to this scene or that.

Sorta like reverse porn, I suppose.

But I see no purpose in it, myself. Sometimes, buried deep within such films is a moment of solace, a message that must be conveyed and this is the only way. 

Rarely, however, does a message get conveyed with completely revolting an audience from watching the title in the first place, but, hey, you win more friends with honey then vinegar.

But I suppose some film makers are very, very unhappy, and, well, if there's punk music?

There's disturbing cinema. 

Usually the stuff of film festivals, they rarely make a market beyond the dark web, late night DVD rentals when those still existed, and someone who wants to illustrate their emotional stamina.

I'm not any of these things. 

But I get it. There are movies out there that cross the line and, given my movie watching habits, I've stumbled across a title here and there.

Many of them, truly, aren't even worth the effort. if you don't like riding roller coasters, why wait in line at all? So I took this request for another movie listing and went with titles I did see and was disturbed in some manner. But I have found it is more related to where I was in life than maybe, perhaps what was portrayed onscreen.

For the first time, here's a list I do not recommend, as it were, outside of the stout of heart and the stupid. 

In no real order, because they are all sick-sick-sick.

Okay, maybe not Pink Flamingos. That one? The darkest of comedies. Seriously. Take a look at it. That one IS a statement about how flipping stupid people are, and how we glorify trash. Metaphoric trash, but trash, nonetheless.

I've mentioned it here before on this blog and it, believe it or not, there's some merit to auteur John Waters' magnum opus, really. It's a tale of disgusting people doing disgusting things. And they're laughing. 

And yes, there's that one scene, that ONE scene that literally will send you running to the bathroom, if not outright gagging. 

It involves a dog doing its business. And my research has informed that scene was truly improved by the goddess that is Divine, the gap toothed drag performer that leads the picture. 

In fact, it has been a badge of honor for many to watch this film all the way through for many a young critic. 

But the rest? 

Take a look at We Need To Talk About Kevin/American Psycho. I started off reading these titles, and, yes, the disturbing matter was truly baked into the thematic elements that arrived on the screen. Hence, I lump them together. Somewhere inside of me, I figured once I watched the film counterparts of these titles something might become more cohesive for me, making the plot and main ideas gel. The first takes a parent's guilt of raising a child that becomes a school shooter.

See? Joyful content. 

And it isn't even horror. 

But it is about the role of a mother and how an entire system is set up for failure, how we lean into what we want to be good and ignore those outside in need of help. 

At least, that's what I think it was communicating. There are also profound statements about why people have children (I still, I admit, after so many years of teaching, why so many do), the parent-child relationship, marriage and the outdated images of the nuclear family, and the limits of love and loyalty. It also shows a parent, more than the killer, who is incapable to love her own child-and the impact that following societies strange requirements ("you're married now, have kids!") even when you don't want to. 

And while I may not agree with the author or the filmmakers messages on such images, I walked away from both the book and the movie with a profound sadness. It bothered me, because I saw similar things. People having kids without thought, without the ability to provide, or not participating in the process of raising those kids--which is profoundly evident with the presence of phones. 

Having the echo bothered me, making this film pop up on my list of movies I found personally bothersome. Along with the second title, American Psycho. The randomness of the protagonist, a strangely clean serial killer and yuppie, was almost a comedy, a dark comedy, of absurdist parody. In in, a Patrick Bateman just kills as he wishes too, but because he is so wealthy, no one really stops him. 

And his victims? Also wealthy people, has no one to care for them, too, so they die, meaningless, slowly and horribly, and that's it. 

I get the themes here. 

But by having not one redeeming character in the entire story means, well, we can't even feel remorse. I suppose, in the end, that's the point. They don't care, neither should we. 

So why make the tale at all? 

Cannibal Holocaust

Title says it all, doesn't it? In fact, this mockumentary surfaced long before there was a Blair Witch Project. It deals with a modern film crew heading to film a cannibalistic tribe, and slowly becomes their next group of victims. The films is showed in a series of found footage montages and, yes, it's absolutely disgusting. The theme is simple, about how modern living lauds itself over native thought and the result? 

Violence. 

In fact, the film was so awful, it was taken to court to prove that it wasn't a snuff film and that, in the end, everyone was fine and were merely performers.

But the animals were actually killed, on screen, so there was that. 

Why, on Earth did I subject myself to this?

I worked at a video store and figured, well, lemme see if I hack this. It can't be that bad, right? it's probably just a drive in movie kinda thing. 

Nope. 

It is vile. 

As it blares on, the audience is so tired of being appalled, that you become numb and walk away. There's an overarching tale that takes on a television wanting to present said found cannibal footage, and the theme changes, about sensationalism and voyeurism. 

A mess of a film.

DRAMATIC PAUSE:  I noticed something. There's two kinds of sicko films. Ones that mess you up on the outside. These are the torture porn titles that do their best to get you to gag. The gross-outs, the Human Centipedes. These titles really aren't about the narrative, only in as much to bring you to the next thing. However, there are some films that are just disturbing on the inside. Ones that linger in your mind like a bad taste in your mouth; things you can't shake three days later. Not that they made you sick, but made you very concerned for humanity as a whole. 

I'm that here as I read and write. Cannibal Holocaust? Yeah, outer vileness that leads to that inner reflection. But American Psycho? Talking about Kevin? Those hit notes in your head.

I get it now. 

Natural Born Killers is excellent movie and probably one of the more approachable titles on this list. Written with blistering speed, it makes fun of itself, a telling exposition about our own willingness to watch violence and nightmare images. It is an interesting take on the Starkweather mass murderer from 1958. Since the title is made with such a big director, Oliver Stone, the movie was able to pull into its circle a series of incredible performers who take the shock and turn it into a profound dark comedy.

So why is it disturbing, if it is so approachable? 

Like at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, where everyone who looked at the opening of the eponymous ark died, yet we, the audience keep looking AT THE SAME EXACT THING; this film is about watching people murder others for their amusement. Repeatedly. In fact, they kidnap a newsman and a camera and just keep going and going through the motions, talking about their incoming fame for being spree killers. 

And we keep watching.

Worse? It is done with such hyperbole and strange camera angles, as to almost be comical.  There's even one flashback that is given as a sitcom presentation, with canned laughter and audiences applauding. 

At first? I thought it was just the director making lite of the contents of the story. Alas, it is to keep our heads spinning with thoughts.  

Don't Fuck with Cats

Whoa. 

This one is a documentary. It has long been known that serial killers start by killing animals. At least that's what the data shows. 

And, on the web, people will watch anything. In a world like ours, where we can edit on our home computers and do sound dubbing on our laptops, we have become numb to photography evidence. It takes more than visual input to figure out if something is real or not. So someone stumbling across a very skinny man brutalizing a kitten (no, they don't show it or run the audio, you're good, but, even the SUGGESTION is disturbing), sets into motion something very interesting.

That there are still good people in the world. The video starts a dialogue. Then some amateur sleuthing. Then another video is spotted, and more sleuthing. 

And...they set about finding the person. Either this is real, and he should be nabbed before he escalates, or it isn't, and he should be taken to task for disturbing the emotional peace of so many.

I won't tell you end, but it is disturbing...very much so. But on the inside. 

However, this is one of the few that I don't regret watching. Thanks Netflix. 

Seven

Tim Burton has an amazing ability to match the setting to the tale. It's his true strong point. His stories and presentations can only live in those four corners of the screen. However, due to that, there's something to be said about such profound fictional (even real places are made over to his liking, making the real...fake) locales and how they keep the audience at arms length. It's using the art form to the fullest. I'm using Tim's skills, because you've probably seen his titles, and get the gist of what I'm saying. Setting communicates a ton of the tone of a tale. The movie, Seven, does the same by the incredible filmmaker, David Finchner. He, too, gives us a world that, even in the broad spectrum of the light of the day, the seedy underbelly of existence cannot escape the characters or the audience. In this title, he tells the story of a serial killer that bases his murders on the seven deadly sins. Strangely, he does it because he sees the growing tide of angst in every day life, and wants to communicate their eventual end. The movie defines a modern day film noir, with the two detectives find and fishing for every clue in every tenement, sewer, charnel house and brothel that a modern city can have in today's digital age. The horrors mount and even though, we, as a populace are cruel to each other on a daily basis, we are still shocked by the killer's creative staging and murders.

This movie? This one will disturb you on the inside. There are some gory scenes, for relevance, but the thoughts this film generates linger.

There.

Now? Watch none of these. 

Not even on a dare. Find something lighter. 

Some Comedies to Consider

 I'm weird.

Stop laughing.

Of course it's true.

Stop LAUGHING, I gotta say something here.

When I was in the period of strange wonderment between my divorce and finding the true love my life, I went and saw a LOT of movies. 

But never the comedies. Never the ha-ha stuff.

I noticed this trend for years, before and since. I'd go to things like that with my friends or colleagues or to write a review for the papers.

It was, as if, like, I could never laugh in public. I hated laughing with just me and the screen. I had to really push myself to go. 

Of course, my ex loved Ace Ventura, which should tell you volumes about his grasp on this reality. But, no, I never really got into the comedy stuff. 

Weird, right? The other odd part was that I'd think horror movies were comedic. I mean, really, a slasher with a hockey mask and NO ONE DOES ANYTHING? Hilarious. 

As I complied this list of movies that I enjoyed that were comedic, I did notice a few trends in my tastes. These are not the best comedies, for sure. They are just titles that kept me interested for the two hour or so moments they flashed on the silver screen. 

*)  Obviously, there's a profound slant on the gay stuff or queer sensibilities. Either queer characters appear, it's written by a gay author, or, fudge, the entire movie comes out as a drag show.

*)  I noticed there's a darkness in the corners of many of these titles. Death is a reoccurring theme for many of these movies. It's not that I find death and such things something to laughed out. It's that I find them strong burdens on all of our psyches and a decent giggle at them reduces their power and holds over us.  And? Ghosts. Zombies. It's like I enjoy when the horror gets stuck in the creepy stuff.

*)  Criticism. Many of these titles are profound amount of criticism in their presentations. Many are a microcosm of society and make deep statements about their places in the universe. Some are upright sending of social mores and generalized stupidity in politics. 

*)  All of them are pretty rough cuts. Watch with caution.

Several of these titles I'll just name and such and move on, for their are discussed, ad nauseum, elsewhere. I am nothing, if not consistent in my feelings and preferences, so you have me there. Go back over throughout this blog and see if you can find their commentary. 

Some titles are newer. Enjoy.

The previous titles mentioned in this blog?

The Birdcage (queer representation and social criticism)

Addams Family Values (queer sensibilities and social criticisms)

Death Becomes Her (Dark, dark, dark comedy...and queer sensibilities)

Clerks (profound social criticisms)

Any and all Jackie Chan titles (okay, this doesn't work with the above information. This? Jackie's movies are movies for movies' sake. Like riding a roller coasters. Just joyful fun.)

And all of them? Hilarious. Clerks was the first time I laughed until tear ran down my face in a theater.

Onto the list:

Airplane!

During the height of the epidemic, husOtter and myself were dying from boredom. I've watched so many movies that streaming had become a slog and the novel stuff was not holding my interest. We had to get out and we noticed something that Florida had that Colorado didn't. 

Drive In Movies. 

We were off. Better? We could relax a bit, since we were allowed to take the corgis, too. 

And we had the best time.

However, Hollywood doesn't make money off of the drive in theaters. What do they make money on? People buying tickets. So, like the streaming? I had to watch titles I had already seen before. 

And Airplane! was playing. 

We both noticed new things. This film, a send up of the crappy 70s disasters movies from the decade prior to its 80s release, is so chock full of sight gags, toilet humor, sarcasm, wit, and overall attitude, the comedy cannot be avoided, even if you turned the sound off. 

It's hilarious. I mean, anyone would laugh. Like anyone. Dead people. 

It's incredible. 

GhostBusters

This is an odd one. Cause it's not truly a comedy, but more of a comedy/horror/adventure mix. 

But there it was, a mix of everything I hold dear as an 8th grader. Ghosts? Click. Light comedy? Click. And an actioner, to boot. Worked for me. In fact, I really enjoyed the reboot that came out in 2021. But, that? That wasn't a comedy, more of a mystery. But, yeah, there you go. Can't go into depth about something that doesn't have much.

A Fish Called Wanda

Generated by Mr. John Cleese to teach Americans how English comedy and American comedy are wholly different, yet very much linked, this title is an amazing piece of writing and wit. It take the stereotypes of two very different cultures and slams them against each other to terrific effect, getting awards for both Cleese and an incredible performance from Kevin Kline, playing the violence obsessed American. 

But it is also buried in a cute romantic tale that shows what each culture lacks is what we give to each other. And it ends up being a rollicking, if very R rated, tale. 

Some Like it Hot

How do you bring gay culture to American mainstream in the mid fifties? You have superstars Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis, already matinee stars, being will to do drag. Further proof that drag has always been part of the landscape. I don't get why people don't think about it. Not only that, it's as if they understood such a large audience, trapped in a national closet, were watching, because these two straight dudes cut a swatch of queerness that's literally an entire comedy drag show. 

Heck, it even has queer icon Marilyn Monroe.

Better? Jack LOVES having the men pay attention to him. No irony. 

An amazing piece of comedy, too. It just builds and builds without a care and is as tight as a tightrope in pacing. 

Shaun of the Dead

Here's another trend I'm noticing. These comedies are all, like a mix of another genre and the jokes themselves. But the thing about this comedy? It's a delicious tale about how society resists change and refuses to adapt to new situations, dangerous situations, even if it means we'll all be dead.

Sound familiar? Here, we have everyone in the middle of a zombie attack, but, instead of solving the problem? They decide to quest for beer. Not the best choice. In fact, even when presented with new evidence that leaving is a bad idea or going outside is really a poor choice? They still go.

Yeah. Look at the ongoing pandemic. 

Hilarious. Art imitates life imitates art.

Blazing Saddles/The Producers

I'm not going to post a trailer.

Because it's offensive. Seriously. 

And that's a good thing. Steven Speilberg has stated, quite directly, he's done with making Nazis bad guys and that we can laugh of them. They are a serious, nightmarish, group that, somehow, thrives today. But he did add, "Let Mel Brooks do it."

Mel is the epitome of Jewish comedy. If you don't think you're laughing at Jewish humor, you've not been paying attention. Jewish culture has defined entertainment from the start, from the Marx brothers to the remake of West Side Story. It's intertwined, deliciously so, with our American way of understanding humor and what it does for us. 

And Mel Brooks is the perfect example. Comedy? Comedy is conflict. Comedy is social commentary. Sure, we're laughing so we can digest our thoughts better; maybe laughing because we're so uncomfortable with the topic, we have to laugh. Both of these titles play these out. Blazing Saddles hammers home the stupidity that is racism, hides it in a great Western tale, and slaps you silly with absurdism that is actually still around us. Understand, he is respectful to all the parties involved. No one is free from his critical eye. 

Stuff you see even in the Simpsons and Family Guy. It is all so appalling you can't even turn away.

He even examines how we're so racist that a Nazi musical becomes the toast of the town in the Producers. 

Borat

Again, here ya go. A ripsnorter on American stupidity and how it is rampant in our culture. Borat is an annoying little man, played by comedian Sasha Baron Cohen. But what he does? Just stands there, being stupid. One of two things happens. People are disarmed and show their true sides and how fracking stupid they are. 

Or how good they truly are.

The drawback? Sasha sometimes takes the joke a bit too far and people who are doing good are slightly abused by his character. But the insight that it provides overall? 

It borders on horrific. 

But it reminds us. As far as we have come, we SO have to get it together.

Top Foreign Films

 Yeah.

Movies are my salvation. Not only was I denied access to the Disney parks during the serious throws of the epidemic; movies, the simple act of going to the theater, was also taken from me. That was serious, very serious to my soul. Disney? Expensive and a trek. 

Movies? Five minutes from the theater. 

Yes, yes, yes, there's streaming.

I'm aware of that, and it filled that space, but not by much. When I'm at home, the sense of escapism that seems so necessary to balm my wounds, is removed. I'm still on the couch, ungraded papers a mere few paces away, hissing at my brain like basket-ed cobra, waiting to strike. The dog still need to go out; that laundry needs to be folded. Even a mere five minutes away was far enough that my heartbeat starts to drop so dramatically that my Fitbit registers me as sleeping. 

Which is kinda cool, too.

None of that. 

We've eased ourselves into theater going again, taking advantage of pre-ordered tickets, where we can establish were we sit far from the maddening crowds.

Wait.

There's not even those. People have stopped going to the movies out here in the countryside. Never was particularly big to begin with.

So?

So there. That's why I've had movies on the brain. Even Entertainment Tonight (I know, drivel, but, hey, better than watching the news) had nothing to report for eons. Those gaps hit and they hit hard. 

More movie talk again with this input. 

Foreign movies are hip and cool. 

Or so I like to think. For me? As a fiction writer, I have the Western storyline down pat, I like to think. Rarely does it waver. And that's okay, it works for most of the stories I like. However, seeing a picture from overseas opens up the audience to what other countries know, see, believe, revere, and hate. I remember in undergraduate having a Russologist and specialist in Slavic cultures and presented. Remember, I went to college in the late 80s, where Reagan was doing his best to keep the Cold War strong so his cronies can keep earning cash from profiteering. So Russia and the Eastern Bloc were still an enigma for me and many at our small college. To have someone come in and complete the simple act of putting Russian television opened my eyes and my perception of the world at large. They had kid cartoons, just like us. Instead of the evil KGB villains in our films? They had a tv miniseries (and, yes, they apparently had miniseries) where, you guessed it, the evil CIA was trying to undermine something or other. 

Changed my world. 

Not that was too far for me to grasp. Working in a video store for the past three years, I was able to view a variety of overseas pictures and start the journey. But those titles? Those were the popular ones, with images or tales that attracted Americans to it. 

And had a great many naked people, for some reason. Oh. Wait. 

Somethingsomething Americans are uptight. Violence? Sure. Naked people? Nope.

I noticed this list tends to be on the more recent side. Makes sense. As I grew up and older, I got it, I understood more. 

Except for the martial arts stuff. 

Loved that from day one. Didn't even need subtitles. I got it. Maybe it was a past life, or maybe, like porn, you don't need much to understand what's going on. I started small. 

Jackie Chan.

In fact, let's just include him, here. The dude rocked. This was Buster Keaton/Charlie Chaplin stuff-crossed very language barrier.

And was hilarious AND thrilling. Like riding a decent roller coaster with a good friend. The laughs and fun are worth the effort. 

Escapism for any culture. 

The Legend of the Drunken Master

This title is actually a sequel, but released in the United States as the first title. Doesn't matter. Plot? Jackie's roustabout needs a good, strong, drink to unleash his inner kung fu master. Nope. No stunt double. These are women and men doing everything themselves. 

And it is jawdropping. 

What is weird, too, given the violence? It comes off as cartoon-y. Even the heavy drinking aspect. I would actually feel safe with watching with kids. There's frequent sly winks to the camera, as if he's warning us this is all in good fun. Mr. Chan even stuffs the end credits with outtakes, emphasizing the work, craft, and danger. 

Highly recommend it.

La Dolce Vita

I watch TMZ. Entertainment Tonight. Access: Hollywood. 

And I should know better. This movie, made by Italian master filmmaker, Federico Fellini, is a blistering take on fame and celebrity. Having watched it recently, I realized, damn, the dude was looking into internet culture before it was a thing. 

It is horribly accurate about how our own boredom and obsessions ruin lives. How we stop seeing the movie stars we vault as human and seeing them as things. Just the things we don't want to be seen as. It is the tale of a gossip columnist and his own guilt at having to follow stars around Rome and basically harass them until they talk or go crazy and respond. 

Amazing. 

I am just as guilty with watching the results as much as I am about discussing the movie that should shame me. 

Seven Samurai

I was never a fan of the Western, per se. They tended to all appear the same for me, and really the story could be better told, elsewhere. 

Then I saw Seven Samurai. 

I got it. A loving look back at Japanese history, I could see why Americans tend to venerate the frontiers our country had and the lack of structure that it proposed. Here? Ancient Japan, lawless as well, where a small town, with no protection or police, bands their cash together to hire mercenaries to stop a series of bandit attacks. But the mercenaries are more then that. They are samurai. Their purpose is to protect and to live and die by the katana/sword. 

What ends up happening is a rousing adventure while seeing what a culture looks up to. 

Again, violent, and a completely different presentation of martial arts films that are shown by China. Chinese tales serious or not, use their choreographed body language as the special effect, the spectacle. In Japan? Martial arts are more integrated, an art form to explain the different characters. And here? There are seven men, each unique. One old, a leader; one young, unsure of his skill; each an archetype. 

Even a wild card, who we aren't sure about. 

Enjoy. It is long, but so worth it.

Wild Strawberries

This is another title where I accidentally discovered it's existence when I was working at a projectionist in my undergrad years. It's one of those movies where I should be interested, it's merely a bunch of people talking, but I noticed I became more and more involved in this sweet character study of a man who flashbacks to his past (much like Citizen Kane), and all the horrible memories. But once they are duly noted, his memories sweeten. As he experiences these flashbacks, he's heading to an awards ceremony for all of his life's work. But the reward is meaningless. It's his memories that define him. As he elects to settle on the good his life has experienced he...

...give it a watch. The title is a Swedish idiom, for that sweet secret spot that only one person knows about. 

The Wedding Banquet

For years, foreign and art movies, indie titles, were the only place where I could see my existence. Remember, representation matters. And having grown up during the AIDS crisis, I never saw myself on any screen, and if I did? The gay person was dying. Or a wit, and dying. Or killed themselves. Or was evil.

Then? Literally one month after coming out, the Advocate LGBTQ magazine told me about this title, and I noticed it was playing at my favorite art house movie theater. 

Ang Lee is one of the best filmmakers ever.

And he created this incredibly simple tale, that is light hearted and real. Almost like a My Big Fat Greek Wedding for the queer set. And, while the gayness was part of the plot, there was no violence, no negativity. In fact, it becomes a statement about how the old ways can apply to the new present, and how ethnicity plays into culture. Very good stuff. 

Kingdom

I love me some zombie fun action. 

Korea, apparently, does too.

This is like a good Walking Dead, where it doesn't manipulate the audience to keep you watching commercials and protracting long dying scenes to make us uncomfortable. Instead? A period drama about medieval Korea, with knights and ladies and court intrigue. I may be cheating here, but this is actually a miniseries, and I was riveted, like reading a decent novel. Twists are in every episode and, yes, this is what horror television should be like. 

The Killer 

I've frequently mentioned my things for Asian film and the aesthetic that goes along with it.

But I may not have exhausted that love.

Here? Here is pure Hong Kong cinema. A delicious mashup of east and west that that vibrant city has and represents, and you couldn't get any cooler than Chow Yun-fat's super cool hit man. This movie, and many more from John Woo and this actor occupy a place that cannot truly be defined outside of its style. Drama? Film Noir? Comedy? Does it matter? Everyone is in on the take the violence is wild and alluring. There's no concept of physics with the ways these bullets fly; people don't just get shot, they explode. Think John Wick long before there was a John Wick. 

It served to even deepen my love for this particular style of cinema, which the public would lovingly begin to call "gun-fu." 

Violent? Oh fuck yes. But awesomely entertaining. 

Cinema Paradiso

A movie about the role movies and narrative play in our lives; how movies mark the passage of our place as we go through life. Yes, a deciousy nod to all things movies, and I might be lazy to list it here, as it is such an outright crowd pleaser.

But hear me out.

If you watch movies, at all, this movie will warm your heart. 

It tells of a projectionist and his young protege and the movies that are playing in the background of their daily existence in Italy at the local cinema. We all know where we were when we saw Star Wars. Or Casablanca. And the emotions we felt. This film captures that and slaps it onto the screen. To this day, it is one of my favorites. 

Cause I love the movies.

Crouching Tiger/Hidden Dragon

Everything old is new again. 

Take all the things I loved about classic martial arts movies.

And then awaken it to the needs and wants of a modern audience. Ang Lee grew up in Hong Kong and loved the kicking ass aspect of those titles as a boy, just as much as I did. But today's society? They don't ring true. 

So he made a feminist drama with martial arts and swords. 

And the film is enchanting-and kicks many asses. We have forbidden loves, honor, faith, secrets, all the plots of a Shakespearean court drama. And yet? We break away for incredible fights. 

Many American audiences, hearing the buzz, laughed at the first fight scene, having never seen people suddenly leap across rooftops without breaking an ankle. But by the finale? The realities the film created were easily accepted and applauded. By a movie that wasn't even in English. 

Bravo.

And there you have it. Some more titles to consider should you need something to watch. 

Peace!

 

Some Independent Films I Love

 I have to say, I was born for loving independent film. My generation did not float in on the tide that was the French New Wave. 

Nope.

Instead, we founded our first indie with Kevin Smith's delicious yuckfest, Clerks.

But, me? Me? I was ahead of the curve. Totally ahead of the curve. I liked Starbuck's before there was one even close to my house. I had drive my little VW Bug all the way into Cherry Creek to indulge in a mocha.

And to also escape? 

The Aztec Theater. A delicious art house movie theater slapped every rando title it could to be edgy and fascinating and all that. 

But they still had popcorn. 

And coffee. 

And I could watch LGBT themed titles without fear in at atmosphere that wasn't seedy or treated poorly. In fact, when I could go, LGBTQ+ newspapers were always free for the taking. This was long before there was an internet. It was a different world. The AIDS crisis had been raging, I was young and couldn't identify, completely what it was that I was yearning for, and, in the end, there was a good movie.

Mostly.

And independent movie is just that. Someone made a movie. Rarely do they have a studio to distribute the title, but sometimes they do, should they make to Cannes or Sundance festivals and get adopted. These films deal with themes and topics that the mainstream doesn't necessarily wish to address for whatever reason. That would include LGBTQ+ topics. Violence. Racism. The films are sometimes films about minorities, made by minorities. Sometimes they deal with expression or don't follow conventional western plot structures or are merely character studies. They are frequently folded in with documentaries and forieign film. 

The Oscars lie before us. I found last year's was so interesting, being I could watch the titles at home, when I was relaxed and easily distracted. This lead to a very different emotional experience. It's important to note, being the kinds of films these are, yes, they seem to deal with fringe themes and, yes, being who I am, there's more than a few LGBTQ titles on the list. 

But use this to enhance your viewing experience and to, yes, expand your mind. I think you won't be disappointed. 

Kick-Ass

I, for some reason, enjoyed this movie in complete defiance of its central theme. That heroes are violent, period. They complete violent acts. They destroy homes, people, lives. 

And yet, because the film is so completely made, with strong protagonists and delicious villains, it became just as engaging and fun as any MCU picture. 

It's weird that way. 

It's novel approach leads to a novel experience. I recommend it.

Kung Fu Hustle

This was an interesting one. Most films out of Hong Kong probably could be considered an indie title, but here? The filmmaker, Stephen Chow, was not considered mainstream, even by China's martial arts standards. He took the skill of Jet Li, the comedy of Jackie Chan, and made an absurdist title that involves a violent "Ax" gang (axes? Why not?) and takes every kung fu trope and instead of playing it forward, emphasizes it to the nth degree. If you can throw a punch throw a person into a wall, why not take most of the building down?

These exaggerations get bigger and bigger and the film becomes a gleeful joy from beginning to end. I wasn't sure about going to pay for it. My husOtter was new to martial arts titles. But I had to taken him to another title, "Hero" by Jet Li, which is, truly, a dance movie, filmed with motion combined with aesthetics. It was breathtaking. 

And boring. 

And he actually liked it. I knew if he could digest that title? Perhaps it was time to move up the food chain to truly wonderful fights. 

Kung Fu Hustle fit the bill.

Amelie

One thing that mainstream cinema sells?

Violence. Every film is filled with conflict. Verbal. Physical. Emotional. 

What if a polite little French film took the protagonist in a different direction. I was torn between this or another title that is quite similar, "Chocolat" about people finding their way in a world hellbent on destroying itself. Here? We have the young lady of the title returning items she find in a hole in a wall of her apartment and, slowly, changing the world of the people who discover the lovely items. 

Is there dark parts?

Actually yes. But because of the brevity, it balances nicely and makes for a film that carries audiences in a completely different direction than expected. The tone is light and, in the end, joyful. 

Pink Flamingos

This is the only film on this list I encourage you to actively avoid. Unless, of course, you are of strong physical constitution. 

This film is vile.

And that's the funny part.

See, movies don't have to make you happy. They probably do, but they don't have to. Art, in and of itself, is merely there. You bring to it your own personal visions and thoughts and that interaction is the purpose. John Waters is an artist. And his art is like Andy Warhol's. Andy saw art in the mundane. John saw that art doesn't have to match the couch. 

He made movies that were not horror. 

But are horrific. 

He made movies that were disgusting.

But are hilarious. 

The ironies and mocking of social status and profoundly idiotic norms are slapped across the screen with all the depth of a high school AV club making a class project. He just didn't care. Everyone does their own thing in front of the camera. There's deeper issues, but you won't get to them, because the images are so bizarre and seemingly random, you'll be too busy wondering if your popcorn might return. 

It is true, delicious, absurd-ism. His female lead is the incredible personality that is the drag queen Divine. All of his movies have her. All of his movies are in Baltimore. 

And there's a lot of poop. 

You've been warned. 

But the indie title (if you watched the trailer, you'll see that they don't actually play scenes from the midnight movie, it is THAT bad of a movie) is just that-showing things you'd never see in a movie. 

Reservoir Dogs

I will always give credit to the power of the writer. Like John Waters, Quentin Tarantino didn't care what you think. He thought about the story, the characters, and their interactions. He made movies that were, truly, a remake of every genre that came before it. Often violent, completely thick with story, and massively dialogued, these titles were mesmerizing. 

His art started here. 

He took an action movie and made it into something I had never seen. An entire action title in one room. The bullets fly, for sure; blood is spewed, but, alas, the story carries the real conflict. Everything that he did in the mainstream, he did here, first, in this dark, small, comedic title about a jewelry heist gone wrong and someone is a cop in the group. 

But it doesn't rely on chase scenes or special effects. The acting and the story take center stage, and, by the end, you, like everyone else, is unsure where the tale is going. 

Not a single trope to be found; and if there is a trope? It's used hilariously. 

For example, if someone gets shot, there's not just blood. 

THERE'S GUSHING BLOOD.

It has to be seen to be believed. 

Little Miss Sunshine

The 'talkie' emphasis that is an indie movie is what brings us to the screen, but the majority tend to be those titles that take themselves too seriously, to dramatically, trying to impress the crowd with their self endowed importance.

Lofty and upright goals, nothing wrong, but sometimes preaching to the choir isn't something I want or need to see.

Then there's this tasty little title. Slapped together with powerhouse plays from Greg Kinnear, Toni Collette, and Alan Arkin (he won a well deserved Oscar for his small role), this a crowd pleaser that wasn't meant to be. A nasty look at how modern expectations have left the concept of reality behind, a family takes a road trip to a beauty pageant for their daughter. 

And every comedic note lands. This isn't mocking the leads. The leads, here, aren't bright, but they're not stupid at all. The world is just bad for this lovely family and they deserve more. In the end, they get back at the class warfare, but not without cost. 

You'll crack up the whole way. Watch Steve Carell in a small, terrific supporting role, also Oscar worthy.

Moonlight

Three short films about coming of age that I, to this day, watched, sight unseen when it was released. 

And went slack jawed. A naturalistic film, almost a character study, this film was not what I expected. It tells a tale that literally no one knows, about growing up as an African American/black man in America. The pacing is lanquid, organic, with bursts of violence that makes us personally feel the outrage. 

I had no idea where it was going, but there was so much honesty in the presentation, I almost felt like I was intruding on a private life and, in the end, I believe that is what the filmmaker was going for. Dark corners, secret conversations, personal questions are slapped on the screen and...

...you see why it won Best Picture. An INCREDIBLE piece of filmmaking. 

Not one of the studios wanted it. It's too natural, to deep. 

And that is exactly why it was so excellent. 

Blair Witch Project

Horror is great. If you make it hokey, it just goes right to Netflix and people will still watch it. Special effects are easy to make, too. Story? Suspense? 

That's the hard stuff. 

This movie used the new medium at the time, the internet, to create a discussion about a 'legend' that never happened, and, after six months, released this 'documentary' about some found footage in the New Jersey Pine Barrens. 

About some college kids making a documentary about said legend, the fearsome "Blair Witch." 

No soundtrack, just clips of the film, the performers improvise the dialogue and the filmmakers take their time to slowly introduce nightmarish imagery into their nightmarish camping trip. 

There's no blood. There's no cut throats. 

And it was all on a shoestring budget.

Nightmare fuel. 

HIGHLY recommend.

Clerks

Here's another one that Hollywood didn't know how to market. And brought me to this genre in the first place. Wickedly sarcastic, it became a voice for Generation X and their identity, an obvious dig on not being able to find jobs, find a foothold in the culture at large. 

And resulting in comedic angst. 

I could not stop watching. Kevin Smith made the movie on his own credit cards, going with the cheaper black and white, and filmed after completing his job in the actual convenience store he worked at, at the time. He made more than a movie, he put independent movies on the map. Many of my peers ran out to see the film, cracking up with every joke as if it was personally made for them. His future films are a bit more random, but I found his true skill is in his writing. These titles are filled with zinger after zinger after zinger to the point that only repeated watching will clear up everything. I still can't help hoping that his best is yet to come, but he's done something that even John Waters couldn't.

He made indie movies cool. 

I did a thing...

A coworker, today, when showing her a picture of my beloved and myself having a fun time before the Millenium Falcon, mentioned, of course, "oh, that looks like fun, right in front of that airplane thing."

That airplane thing.

You see, like, I had always heard about people living under rocks. That things are truly part of common culture (I mean, the first bloody flick came out in 1977!), are sometimes bypassed by few. I know who the Prime Minister is of Canada. It's that hottie, Justin Trudeau.  I know what Red Square looks like, but I've never been.

But that moment proved I was in the Deep South. Couple it with my other coworker mentioning, when I was smuggling myself out exactly at the end of the work day to catch the premiere of the Force Awakens, to the strands of, "oh, that's a Star Wars thing, right?" Or when my other teacher colleague wore a mask and I mentioned he looked like Bane in Batman.

He greeted me with a look of fright.

"Not everyone knows what that is."

But if you've come this far in my story, yes, you do something about what I'm going to talk about here.

And due to my frustration with being to unable to share what's printed here with a majority of my equals, I am using this parable as a warning. Here, there be spoilers. I need to write freely, so, yes, just go with it, my dear readers.

But, yes, I did a thing.

I went to the Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge at Disney's Hollywood Studios for their annual preview.

Still doing the commercial thing.

Very first view upon entry.

Power droids were everywhere, you know, to power the Resistance Forest.

Near the entrance to Rise of the Resistance attraction, the fleet is parked.

A few things, further, before I post some of what I experienced and thought. I frequently am taken to task with my criticism, especially at the cinema. I'll live a movie and my beloved, asshole, friends, are like, "so what'd you hate about that?"

I don't hate, my friends. I've seen more movies than most film students. I know what I like and what I don't like, and the truth is-I LOVE movies. I have learned, over the years, to have a critical eye to those galloping tintypes, and, frankly, I know when they're good and when they are bad. And I, truly, LOVE THEM ALL. When I'm being critical, it's judging the art, not the heart, per se. I know when they can do better. I know they've done worse.

Now when it comes to theme parks? Yeah, I like to think I still have a stake in that fight. I am not an immagineer. But then, again, I'm not a filmmaker. I'm just someone who has had a mind, tempered by the fires of my Florida heat, rolled over by reading column after column of Disney what-not.

So digest that as you will. But do not interpret my penalties against the corporate entity as wishing them ill will or making you doubt your 1000 night stay at a pirate themed room with an over-chlorinated pool. Nor should you see my dreams and hopes as your own.

I just, you know, did a thing.

And this is my thought.

My thoughts started when I was listening to one of Kevin Smith's various podcasts (for the life of me, I can't remember which one), when he elaborated being on the set of Star Wars: The Force Awakens. I became emotionally erect at the humor he injected into a scene where he got to walk up the gangplank onto the aforementioned Millennium Falcon.  He details each tiny step and how the tears welled up with each moment. How his life vanished, and, for one shining moment, that sense of wonder, that sense of setting overtook him and he was dreaming again as if he, too, were zipping through the universe.

I was enthralled. I listened so intently, I remember the moment, able to find my own tears in such a moment. I remember it because I was pulled over for speeding and had to explain said moment to an aging cop who giggled, and, after letting me off with a warning, said, "well, you better enjoy the damn movie now when it opens."

I was not the only person who was listening. Kevin's story MUST have floated to the ears of Disney's execs.

They were building a Star Wars Land. Every Disney park here in Florida seems to have technologically forward driven location. Think about it. Tomorrowland. All of Future World in EPCOT. Then? Pandora came on line. Now there was a conservation-minded Tomorrowland at Animal Kingdom.

But it took forever to build me a chance to live in the world of a Galaxy, Far, Far Away.

It s location made sense. Fantasy. Pathos. Heroes. Villains. All of them soar on the big screen.

Of course, they made a twin in California.

And put it off of Frontierland.

Ah, what? They have a park that is dying-on-the-vine out there, in desperate need of attention. So they put it...across the street.  Not in California Adventure.

Made sense to someone.

Remember, you just wanted to write me a note, correcting me.

This is my opinion. They have valid reasons for doing it. Relax your trigger finger, there, Tex.

See? Passions run wild in the social media universe.

I get it.

My passion ran so wild what when Chewie walked up behind me, I noticed a bit of a tear running down my cheek.

I had met Chewbacca before.  But here? In the Resistance Forest. The vibe was do different. The pull, so different.

Disney is known for such place-setting, that sense you aren't in Kansas any more and, no, you can't find your way immediately back.

There was some fumbling here-it takes a bit until I reached the towering spires of the Black Spire Outpost. And the whole experience came into view. Highly linked to the cities of Tatooine, it was basically a copy.

I was technically in a different location in their universe, but the familiarity flared.

A doorway copied from Mos Eisley...Tattooine

Soda pop that doubles as a thermal detonator. Good to know.

But that familiarity? That was wholly my own. I mean, really. I think the reason why the lines and crowds aren't materializing are two-fold. No one has an emotional connection with this brief glimpse of the Star Wars canon.  People are coming in, it's cool and all, but they go home and say things, like, "yeah, there's a thing." They went to Pandora, and there's a novelty. Here? Something, somewhere, in between. It's strange.

The trees are young, and the leaves aren't strong enough to wipe out the Florida sun. That and the concrete movie set? Hots-ville. Place is begging to lilt the heartiest of the stouthearted.

Details abound.

And, Disney being Disney, they have the stage-show adage, "always leave them wanting more." The fact is, they overstaffed the place with trainees. So personal serve was incredible. But I also live in Florida, I know that won't last. Their costumes? TREMENDOUS, and one of the biggest pluses. Disney will cut corners here, giving a costume that works in both Fantasyland AND Tomorrowland. But, there, in Hollywood? There was no mistaking the cast members. But they also had the cast members role play the story of the locale--fine, fine, fine. But here's the tic. Not all guests can role play. They won't have a snippy comeback and I noticed on several occasions, long pauses of awkwardness that either resulted from a new cast member learning the ropes, the storyline being a bit flimsy, or they reached a Star Wars geek like myself.

One crewbie tried to engage me and I pointed out that there didn't seem to be any Chriss in this outpost, and that the Grand Admiral Thrawn had started out in this very location before moving to his Imperial seat.

"That was centuries ago."

"Actually, no, it's canon," Yeah, I shut my trap, but, son, you might want to be careful out there. There are worse geeks with bigger stomachs coming your way.

We're fat and hungry and read all the Star Wars books.

And now you know why I was tearing up.

A quibble, thank you, but I noticed such pauses with my own husOtter-where he got lost in the acting, and not in a good way.

As for the one attraction?

That bloody Falcon.

It's a bit, inconsistent.

Both attractions, the newest generation, over at Pandora, I feel, are better and cut new ground. Here? Yes, it is VERY personalized. It is a simulator, and, given the very smaller group, after a day of crowds, it feels like a solid, personalized experience that was ours and ours alone to have and to hold. In that way? Success. But the problem is, unless you know everyone in the group of six you're assigned to, you fly into a great many monoliths. We found on the second try, we were assigned piloting duties, and since we're married, able to communicate (argue) a bit better than most, reducing crashes and making for a better ride. The better ride means more additional scenes.

But, in the end, it's small, short, and happens so quickly, you miss the details. I suppose they wanted us to ride again, since it meant we were going to be in the area longer which means we'll spend more money.

This is, after all, Disney.

Don't get me wrong, we had fun. And the fifth generation Hondo is AMAZING, but again, we were rushed out, seeing him for only a few moments, so they can reduce the line outside.

Organization.

The pin they give you, so they know which saber you'll be constructing. So, like, a very expensive pin.

Savi doing his lecture. Your experience may vary on the quality of this performer. Ours was great.

The vital Kyber Crystal that imbues the saber. It also powers the Death Star's weaponry. That powerful. Choose wisely.

HusOtter when with 'Nature' and 'Balance.'

The options.

Savi still doing his thing. 

Savi's was something we were both VERY impressed with. We were impressed with the Olivander's wand ceremony, and, like with Kevin Smith, you know someone floated over, saw the lines, saw the rubes willing to pay 80 dollars for molded plastic with a microchip inside that causes things to move in shop windows throughout the area.

And Disney said ka-ching.

The fact is, Olivander's was so popular, they had to open two more at the linked park to get more sales going. The show? Awesome, but it really only worked with two people, so kids in a family might be left out, and while a crying child might be a motivator for a parent to ride again, it's not always steadfast.

So? Disney made Savi's. This broke a bit from the canon with Star Wars, where the Jedi is set about on tasks to get their Kyber crystal and construct their own light saber, but, whatever, it's really cool.

And expensive.

A bear and an otter playing holochess in the mess hall of the Millennium Falcon. 

There's a bit of role playing going on, there's voice over, theme music and, I felt, more engaging than the Smuggler's Run, for some reason. We really liked it, even if it was a bit rushed. But I left with a huge smile across my face. So yeah, this? This was a hit.

As for Smuggler's run? A large video game on a big screen. Think Star Tours with more interactions. You'll fail at first, since you're overwhelmed. And the comedy is wasted. The fact that Hondo is there is wonderful, a terrific character from Star Wars Rebels television show, after first appearing in Clone Wars. There's a few hiccoughs, as you see the famed vessel outside, then, suddenly, it's being moved to an internal hanger-makes sense, that's where we'll board, but there's no acknowledgement. Chewie is outside, walking around, but, yet, here he is, again, so the storyline jumps a bit.

HusOtter and I enjoy video games and on the second try, got a higher score AND was able to figure out the expectations, as well as, get a role that was better for us. Since we knew each other, we were able to coach each other, making for the higher score and making it all a bit more worthwhile for us. However, coupled with strangers? Like our first time? Meh. The pilots had been drinking rum and blue milk, and we're giggling as they fly into pylons, ships, and ring-debris. Lovely. See what I mean? Really hit or miss, I think, here. I hope they never add FastPass, so that more can enjoy it.

Guessing we've colonized the forested moon of Endor? Cause this is supposedly Endorian. 

I guess we should try to be regular in space, cause you know what hypersapce does when it hits the GI tract.

The food was also good, I mean, this is Disney, but the portion to price was meh.

I know, right? What was I thinking. And while not as engaging as the treats served over at Satul'i Canteen, we found it was satisfying enough. Just, we left hungry.

No. I saw where blue/green milk comes from. I ain't touching that stuff until that's washed out of my noggin. I have no idea how people could enjoy that. Again, this is from the Universal songbook-it's Butterbeer for the Galactic Senate, as it were.

The Water Batha, the source of green milk. BLECH

Another Wizarding World copycat is the Droid Factory, which I also indugled in. Nothing like making a toy to annoy the corgis with, no?

Look at all the pieces! How many cases of pink eye can I get from the Great Unwashed?

All the things you'll need.

I'm not mechanical, but I am electrical.

In fact, I began to notice that Harry Potter really did inform much of this exciting and exotic land. I mean, really, Star Wars is older, and has an older (read: employed and willing to spend) fan base. And, yeah, it makes sense. As Harry Potter opened, Disney did not flinch, feeling their upcoming Fantasyland expansion would topple the new hip scene forming across I-4. Alas, when the crowds didn't materialize, and then people were taking a day or three off of their Disney vacations to rent a car to see said Wizarding World? The execs jumped on it.

And they did it. This is an amazing place. And I liked it.  It may not have been the best Disney offered (I still believe the edge and originality goes with Pandora, probably because we didn't have a familiarity with the rich world it stemmed from, giving the artisans more to play with).

I look at this way. I love very, very specific movies. Stranger than Fiction. Sky Captain and the World of the Tomorrow. But these movies play to a personality trait and love with me. I know better than to recommend them to the world at large. But the place itself? I cannot help think that there's going to be future tooling of the location.  It's not the best that they can pull off, in my humble opinion, if that makes sense. Great stuff for the buff, but, like, passing for the casual observer. As for the Disney goer and fan? Some where delightfully in between.

But I'm sad. I may never probably get to Star Wars Land again. Ever. Ugh. Not because I don't want to.

Because it'll probably be all zooballs.

We'll see.

I'm tired

I called another senator today. I've called so many these past years, I've realized-I can't remember who I actually called, perhaps, let alone, why.

I have friends who are younger than me. Fury motivating their activism and it is absolutely awesome. I see them, straight, white, and still fighting for equality for those not in their socio-economic strata. In fact, they're blessed/cursed with white privilege and that they use to get people to listen to them. They march. They call. They stand.

It's awesome.

Seeing them fight so hard for people like myself and my community, I feel I have to match them on every level.

But I notice that the breaks between the activism gets longer and longer.

I mentioned earlier, in my previous blog post, I'm the accidental tourist here. I did not chose to be so blessed with being queer, but, garshdarnit, I'm going to be it. I will scream my pride, I will fight for my rights, and I will see my community survive.

But as the name implies, I'm accidental here. Just because I was born into it, doesn't mean I want to do it. An argument could be made that I HAVE to do it, but as for want? No. I remember my mother wondering why I kept hanging out with other gays--since we were fighting for equality, it shouldn't matter who I hang out with. But I had to explain to her, there are times, many times, when I just wanna be gay. I don't wanna have to explain what's going on in my head and heart, when I don't want to elaborate on the nuances of a fickle and wonderful community.  I should not have to explain to people why what they are doing is wrong or hateful or spiteful.

Sometimes I want to just be gay.

Recently, we were talking about my coworker's granddaughter had to be isolated in an ICU due to a sickness and she elaborated on how it felt like when she saw victims of the AIDS crisis in the late 80s. I began to talk about volunteering at those hospitals, and how I hated myself, because I didn't have the money to donate-so I just could volunteer time but I, even then, we weren't exactly sure of the details of the disease and how angry I was at myself--I knew I didn't have to wash my hands repeatedly, but I kept doing it.  And....

....her jaw went slack.

"You were there."

"I was young, but yeah, the guy I was dating, his boyfriend, his ex boyfriend, was dying and I started doing volunteering in a wing and..."

I realized at that point that, yes, maybe I didn't have cash, nor the verbal clout to argue with the idiots outside on street corners, but I had the time. And that? That is what I gave, whenever I could.

I volunteered. I did it there, wrote for the community newspaper from the rainbow center, and attended any non-disco event (any place where a fat kid didn't have to take his shirt off and dance, which, by the way, is very, very different now, if there are bears involved...) I could find time for. I kept it secret, which was probably not the best idea-fighting for equality while showing my shame at the same time-but I can't go back in time.

So when I watch these amazing friends of mine fight for my rights and the rights of others, I feel like I'm not doing enough. If they can do it, I should be doing it to. I should illustrate that I'm worth finding equality with.

But I also realized, at this point, I've been doing this for a long, long time.

I had the college push--arguing with the Churchies at my Christian college why they can't be offended by a local paper's anti Christian comedy strip one year. That it was free speech, and, it would be better to laugh, get the joke and then fight against the stereotype, then to lynch the artist.

That fell on Deaf ears.

When my friend decided to hurl himself out of the seven floor window from the dorm when his father refused his coming home after coming out of the closet? Yeah, I was there. I didn't know what to say, so I just tried to eat lunch with him and ask if he wanted free movie tickets when I could. (when he eventually returned from the hospital...worked with him too)

All of these memories are surfacing because, yeah, here I am, still, yelling. Sitting. Talking.

Posting on the internet.

Okay, that's new.

So, yeah, maybe I'm an accidental activist, but I have to admit.

I'm tired.

I can't help thinking that's what this current government wants. They're having a rousing success with exhausting everyone with constant media barrages of annoyances, and they're expecting us to just stop off and let them be...and get what they want. Like the kids throwing such a well timed tantrum.

And I'm exhausted.

I think of those activists before me, how they never rested and I reap the benefits-and I hate that guilt manipulating my behavior. But it's true. Marsha P. Johnson? She did not get tired? Or was that the tiredness that helped her spark the riots? Did Harvey Milk ever imagine an end to all this fighting? Probably not. That's why he ran.

I am wiped out.

But I am not dead yet. My mother, in all of her wisdom, pointed out something. She was a single woman in the 70s. Not exactly an ideal time to be doing so. And, sometimes, she was barely keeping it together. She pointed out to me, that, yes, when you are merely surviving, as long as you are existing against the odds, that, in and of itself, is an act of courage. She didn't run out and get remarried. She didn't move into her family's home. She stood it out.

She also pointed out the hated my step father endured. His commanding officer would twist his 'hook nose' for being Jewish, until it bled, screaming anti Semitic epitaphs at him the entire time. He survived. He never filed a report, never did the advocacy thing. But he stood it out. And, as such, fought back by his very nature.

If they all can do it....I can to. So this? This is here for us.

I'm angry at the government, but one thing that my friends have noticed? My outward anger is merely a wimper by comparison. I used the sad-but-true comment, "this, too, shall pass."

I know it sounds awful with this current regime, but remember what I went through. The Reagan years. Even Clinton's. And W's anarchy. Did I die? Damn close. But we prevailed and took some baby steps.

I remember this same conversation, again, at work, and they were shocked. I live and work in the Old South. They've never had any opposition or people work with them who thought any different or saw things from outside their church community. My mere existence, again, is a shock. And act of heroism, perhaps, yes, in the laziest form imaginable. When they talk about their activities with their husbands, I feel it's my right to talk about going on my date to Disney World this weekend too, and the silence? You can feel it.

I'm surprised that it still happens.

Peace? Peace. This, too, shall pass. This tiredness. This regime. This stupidity. This celebration. We can do this. Just keep being real.