I just got back from Hereditary. No spoilers, but I found this movie very enjoyable in the classic horror sense of things. There are a couple scenes involving a cell phone, but they don't need to be there, and the rest of the movie could have been done anytime in the last forty or fifty years. That's a compliment, if you enjoy films like The Exorcist and The Omen, you may enjoy this film. There are no wisecracking evil menaces, no terrified teenagers in swimsuits or underwear, and no gratuitous jump scares, just a pure supernatural evil and a family's attempt to deal with it. On the critical side, there was one scene that I think may have had a set-dressing mistake, and I wasn't a fan of casting 68-year old Gabriel Byrne as the father of a thirteen-year-old and an eighteen-year-old (when my father was my age [forty-seven] I had already been honorably discharged from the Marines and would have graduated college if I'd taken that path). It's not a complaint about how he plays the role, it's just Hollywood's typical pattern of letting leading men play roles well into their, ahem, late middle age that should really be going to younger men. Toni Collette, on the other hand, is 46, which fits the character better and is fucking outstanding in this role. Kudos to the rest of the casting decisions as well, the younger actors and actresses look like, well, average teenage kids. The "beautiful girl" love interest is pretty attractive, but doesn't come across as having fallen off a Maybelline package or anything. So anyway, if you like the old style of horror, I'd recommend this film. If boobs and splatter and jump-scares that were only the cat are more your thing, I won't judge, but you'll probably be bored to death.
Eight years since the earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear meltdown. It was my day off, vacation time, I was sitting at my computer doing something, gaming, whatever, when the world started to sway gently back and forth. I looked up at the light cord, because that's where you look, dizzy spells and trucks going by don't cause penduluming, but there it was, swinging gently. Earthquake, but not a bad one. But... It just kept going on. Usually these things last a few seconds, but this one just kept going and going. Six minutes, I found out later, although I don't think I felt all of that. I was over 700 kilometers from the epicenter. But still, it rumbled and rocked for a while, and I went back to my game. Earthquakes happen here, there's that pause when you decide if you need to be worried or not, and then you go on. It was nearly three in the afternoon, I didn't check the news. Why bother? Met Mrs. A for dinner at a local izakaya pub, and looked up at the TV. There were burning houses being swept inland through the rice paddies, and the numbers at the bottom of the screen were talking about dead and injured. I picked up my phone and emailed my family back home while Mrs. A checked on hers. Everyone was okay, but whatever plot armor you think you have in your life is useless when the sea comes calling. The video below isn't mine, and it's definitely not for younger or more sensitive viewers. It's safe to assume that almost anyone you see who isn't within arm's length of the camera didn't survive. Per Wikipedia, that's 15,896 of them. And 2,537 still listed as missing. Watch as much as you can stand, or don't. You won't be a better or worse person either way. And no, I don't like the title, but it's accurate.
This started as a response to the Movies - What did you think about the last movie you watched thread, but got long-ish so I'm putting it here. Two nights ago 50 Shades of Gray came on the cable and I figured what the hell, I'll give it a shot. Eight minutes. Probably not even that, since the cable company runs a couple commercials at the hour when the show is supposed to start, but it was eight after when I started screaming at the TV. Do I want to see a fucking dishrag get treated like toilet paper for two hours? And an incompetent dishrag at that. Did anyone notice that her roomie was too sick to do the interview but was fine when she got home? And I know that the film isn't a fan favorite of the BDSM community, but can you get more dull and inane and predictable than having a boy billionaire who needs to be in control everywhere, even the bedroom? And no, sex isn't or shouldn't be a zero/sum game, women aren't objects to be conquered but still where's the achievement in a handsome (I assume so, I'm a terrible judge of male looks), fit, and insanely rich man dominating an insolvent doormat!?! At least show him with someone who's somewhere on his level, or even better, flip that tired old script and have him wearing the middle-aged French maid's uniform while she pegs him fucking senseless. Not my thing either, but it would certainly be more amusing than watching the lord of our modern feudal manor beat a peasant for two hours. So I made it to the twenty minute mark, right after he kidnaps and strips her, flipped over to a re-run of Top Gear, and passed out.
So I'm off in a few minutes, but this vacation is different. I've become one of them. For so many years, I held on to the ideal of "packed and ready to move at a moment's notice." When I was a Boy Scout, I got elected patrol leader one year. Pretty much everybody did, at one point or another, so don't read anything into that. But this was summer, and when we went to camp, a new boy got assigned to my patrol. We had this backpacker cult going on, who could pack the least, who had the coolest pack, who had the right Swiss Army knife, the right Sierra cup, who showed that they'd earned their rappelling merit badge by wearing a carabiner clipped to their belt loop at all times, and this young lad was struggling down the hill to our campsite with two large, hard-sided faux-leather suitcases. Locked suitcases. Which he'd forgotten the keys to. Fortunately, the luggage was cheap, and all of us were constantly working on our lockpicking and cat-burglary merit badges, so it was a matter of a few minutes and a few bent paper clips to get access to his stuff again, but the damage to his image was done. Packed and ready to move at a moment's notice, I used to be. Traveling in casual clothes, but with combat, or at least hiking, boots on my feet. Space blanket in my carry-on. All the survival gear the airport screeners would allow through. Because, Lord of the Flies, you know. Or Castaway. Or whatever. Keep all of your gear in something with shoulder straps, you don't need to spend money on a Smarte Carte, Marine. Ready to move, over any terrain. Escalators, slidewalks, even carpet. But you're getting old. Not too old to carry your trash that way, mind you, but old enough not to have to. You're in your mid-forties. You're a professor (of sorts). You're wearing a Panama hat and a pocket square; the last time there was an overbooking on your flight, you got upgraded, not bumped. You've got a suitcase with wheels and a nice little locking strap for extra security this time, and a neck pillow hanging from your carry-on. You're a traitor to your past, and you know it.
I've just awoken from a dream, the last clean flight into the plague apocalypse, flying over familiar territory, the forests and fields of Canada, cars lined up and abandoned at checkpoints, corpses. The opposite of Gradia 452, and on arrival, all the usual things were going wrong. Also, US senator Bernie Sanders was aboard. That didn't work out well for him.
Captain: Attention all hands, we’re going to be heading out for a quick shakedown cruise this morning. Status checks to follow. Navigation? Navigation: Suggesting a medium loop, sir, navigation is go. Captain: Acknowledged, Navigation. Engine room? Engine room: Engine room advises no more than three-quarters throttle, and concurs with Navigation’s recommendation of a medium loop. Engine room is go. Captain: Acknowledged, Engine room. Torpedo room? Torpedo room: Torpedo room is clear, captain. Good to go. Captain: Say again your last, Torpedo room. Are you confirming clear? Torpedo room: That’s affirmative, captain, we are good to go. Captain: Roger that, Torpedo room. Navigation? Navigation: Navigation, aye. Captain: Set course for a medium loop. Engine room? Engine room: Engine room, aye. Captain: All ahead three quarters. All hands, we are underway on a medium loop. <cheering> Navigation: Captain? Navigation here, we’ve cleared the one kilometer mark. Captain: Thank you, Navigation. Engine room, status? Engine room: Everything’s running smoothly down here, sir. Torpedo room: Um, Captain? Torpedo room here. Captain: What is it, Torpedo room? Torpedo room: Um, no, nothing, disregard. Captain: Are you sure, Torpedo room? Torpedo room: Yes, sir, no problems here, smooth sailing. Captain: Ookaaay then, let’s carry on. Um, Navigation? Let me know when we get to the short loop waypoint, just in case. Navigation: Aye, aye sir. Captain: Engine room, anything to report? Engine room: No sir, everything’s warmed up and running smoothly. As a matter of fact, sir, I think we might be able to pull off a- Torpedo room: Captain, we have a problem! Captain: What’s going on, Torpedo room? Torpedo room: We’ve got one, two, thre- I don’t know how many, but they’re getting ready to cook off, sir! Captain: Torpedo room, you said you were all clear, what the hell happened? Torpedo room: I don’t know, sir, but these things are getting mighty hot, we’ve got to get them off this ship and fast, sir! Captain: Do you think we can make it back to port? Torpedo room: I can’t say for sure, sir, but I’ll do my best. Captain: Navigation, bring us about, and plot a new course back to port. Navigation: Aye aye, sir, plotting course to port. Captain: Engine room, can we manage all ahead full? Engine room: Yes sir, but the vibration- Torpedo room: No! Do not increase the vibration levels on this ship, for the love of God! Captain: Torpedo room, get ahold of yourself. Engine room, steady at three-quarters full. Torpedo room, I want status reports every time something changes, or every five minutes, whichever happens first. Torpedo room: Aye aye, captain. The fish seem to be stabilizing, but we need to get to port ASAP. Captain: Understood. Navigation, how long til we reach port at present speed? Navigation: Eight minutes, give or take, sir. Captain: Eight minutes, roger that. Torpedo room: Captain? Fish seem to be stable, sir. Captain: Good. Only a minute or so more, Torpedo room. Hang on. Torpedo room: Aye, si- Umm, sir? The fish are heating up again. Sir? They’re getting really hot now sir, we can’t have more than thirty seconds or so. Captain: Hold on, hold on, shrouds off, docking now, aligned with the safe disposal chu- Torpedo room: Firing one! Firing two! Firing three! Fir- Captain: Did I give the order to fire?!? Torpedo room: No sir, but once the chute was lined up- Captain: The chute was lined up, but we were not fully docked yet, Torpedo room. We got lucky this time, but your status checks need to get a lot more thorough and accurate before our next cruise, understood? Torpedo room: Firing seven! Aye, aye sir…. Firing…oh god, that one exploded in the tube, this is getting messy…
The darkness is gone, in the light now. Fading. Limbs... Tired, so tired. Wings... Limbs don't connect. We danced, we danced and sang and sucked the sweet nectar, mated, flew through the air, the warm, bright air, after so long burrowing in the darkness, constriction, tightness and the dual emergence, first from the earth onto the Earth, and then emerging Self from self, new sensations, new abilities from a part so old it was there in the before. Will be there again. No more flight, no more nectar. The eggs are buried and the darkness is growing bright, a blinding not-light that beckons to whence cannot tell. We danced and we sang. Remember us. View attachment 23017
When "the Lord" or "Lord" is invoked without further detail specifying which Lord is being addressed, all inquiries and requests will be routed to the Right Worshipful the Lord Mayor of Sheffield, Magid Magid. Check your assumptions before you criticize the bling.
Alternate Endings, Suppressed. I. Resistance The young boy's voice sounded so far away, so very far away. Elsa looked around the cramped space that had been her home for the last six months. The battle was over. Germany had won the war. The roaring in her ears drowned out everything but the sound of her heart pounding in her chest, a pounding so loud that she was certain that the men of the Gestapo would hear it even outside the building, even in their headquarters in the center of town. There would be no escape. Her mute lips traced the last words of Elazar ben Yair as her hand found the haft of the kitchen knife, hidden beneath the thin mattress. II. Emergence The young woman stepped into the street, with the JoJo following shortly afterwards. The battle was over; Germany had lost the war. She heard the sound of the engine first, then the open-topped four-wheel drive vehicle filled with jubilant soldiers rounded the corner, their flag waving proudly. The vehicle screeched to a halt. “Komm, frau,” commanded Junior Sergeant Vasily Ivanov, a smile crawling across his face.
So I got the news yesterday that she's one of a kind. Probably going to be famous, in a carefully anonymized way. You know, like Henry Molaison was. H. M. Of course, odds are that her fame will be posthumous, while H. M.'s condition was well-known, except, of course, to him, during his lifetime. See, the docs, and these are good docs, some of the best in the country, not just local G.P.s or corpsmen, say that one of her cancers is extremely rare. Like, one in ten or twenty million rare. One of her cancers is extremely rare. So the other one should be easy, right? The other one has probably never been seen before. These are top doctors at a top hospital. They'll do their best, and their best will be the best, but no matter what the outcome, they'll still be writing papers about it.
When I wrote Okeegara, it was based, in part, on something that happened to an old friend of mine. You probably don't know, but the suicide rate of girls 10-14 has tripled in the last 15 years or so. And so it goes. Rest in peace, young lady.
Well, I'm back in Japan. Back to reality? Two weeks of listening to my oldest friends discussing yard-care tips, back to school problems, 401k retirement plans. No one told me when to run, I missed the starting gun. I'll never own a home, I may never own a car. I may never be able to afford to move back to the US, and I can't afford to retire here. Or there. Reality sets in again. Or perhaps I'm a butterfly, dreaming that I'm a man. Where did that frog go?
So yeah. I know fad diets, crash diets, are unhealthy, but hey, I'm bored. Very little in the way of work for the next month or so, and Mrs. A is spending most of her time helping out her dad or visiting the hospital, so it's just me at home. That means I've got complete control over my food consumption. During the semesters, breakfast is a breakfast bar because time, and I usually eat lunch in the faculty cafeteria. Bland, nutritious (?), lots of rice. Dinners with the missus, could be anything. School breaks though, I'm at home, and my diet tends to be more... random. Plus, I don't get in nearly as much exercise, at least in the winter. When school is in session, I'm on my feet at least four and a half hours a day, and I generally walk/run/cycle a few kilometers before work, but on break, especially winter break? I'm a couch potato. But I start back at school in about a month, and the weather is getting warmer, so I'm back to PT, trying to make sure they don't need to roll me into the classroom on the first day, and then this crash diet pops up in my facebook feed. I'm not going to reproduce it here, but it's the one with a lot of boiled eggs and salad. Kind of Atkins-ish. Like I said, I know these things aren't safe or healthy, but I'm bored, so I thought I'd give it a shot for a bit. I figured it was probably a scam, unlikely to produce the claimed 24lb (11kilo) weight loss in two weeks. I also figured that any effects would kick in fairly gradually over the allotted time. Nothing in it is, by itself, unhealthy. Boiled eggs, fruit, green salads. Lacking in carbs, but my diet, especially during the break, is hardly on the Olympic training level. Gummi bears, Red Bull, pizza, grilled cheese sandwiches, and plenty of beer, with occasional binges of salad when my teeth start to loosen up. So how bad could it be? It's day two. I've had endless, particularly foul diarrhea, my kidneys ache, my balls ache, and I feel a little light-headed. No energy. No way I can keep doing this, so when I went to work, I decided to grab a sandwich from the convenience store. Nothing like two slices a white bread, two slices of ham, and a glop of mayo to restore one to health, is there? Store was closed for inventory, so interim dinner is a bottle of local Gatorade-analog. But I've lost nearly five pounds already. In two days.
I was trying to find the most current version of The Arc of a Rainbow (Chasing the Rainbow from the story contest), but I found the very first day's writing on it instead, with the prompt at the start: View attachment 23011