The Great Gatsby or "Tobey Maguire and some stuff that happens around him"

Hey guys. So, yesterday I went to see "The Great Gatsby", that film that everyone seemed really excited about but for some reason I never heard anyone actually talk about.

Oh, just a little sidenote while I remember. Some of you may be wondering about why I've been reviewing things lately (let's face it, none of you were wondering that, but I'ma pretend you were) I did a very long write up on "Man of Steel" and now I'm gonna talk about "Gatsby". Will this be a regular thing? I hear you ask. Truthfully, I don't know. Lately I've been watching a lot of "That guy with the glasses.com" and I really admire what a lot of the reviewers do, particularly the nostalgia chick and critic. Thanks to this, I've been thinking much more critically about the films I see, and, being the attention seeking egotist that I am, I want other people to read my opinions. In short, I don't know if this will be a regular thing, or even if it'll survive the next few weeks but at the moment, this is what I want to write about so I plan on doing just that. And there's nothing you can do to stop me, muhahahaha!

Not to be confused with Ernest Vincent Wright's book "Gadsby", a 50,000 word novel without 
a single use of the letter "e"  

Firstly, a little background to this film. The film is based on the book by F. Scott Gerald, which I have not read. It was directed by Australian director Baz Luhrmann, who directed other such films as "Moulin Rouge" (which I will be making comparisons to, even though I've only watched the first twenty two minutes of it before getting entirely too annoyed/distracted and having to turn to something else) and "Romeo "plus" Juliet" the modern interpretation of Shakespeare's famous play (which I will also probably be drawing parallels with. I don't plan these things). There are some complications with not having read the book that I'm just going to get out of the way here. I went into this movie with no knowledge of the story other than the fact that it was set in the 20's and involved a guy called Gatsby. Because of this, I plan on critiquing the film and the story as a whole. One final note before the review proper begins, I saw this film in 2D. It was, as is rather obvious when watching the 2D version, shot in 3D. Because of this, I will make some allowances for the "cardboard cut-out" look in some of the scenes. Now, I think I've covered everything.

Oh, the following review will include SPOILERS. It will also probably not be in chronological order, except maybe for the first few bits. I feel that if I did, I would end up analysing it scene by scene and that would make this post stretch on into the end of time. There is a lot in this movie. It lasts for one hundred and forty three minutes but somehow feels much shorter than that. I will start at the start.

The first thing I noticed about this movie is that the beginning is very similar to that of Moulin Rouge (which I am by no means pretending to be an expert on, twenty two minutes and a review is the extent of my knowledge). The whole "zooming in on a screen while music plays" isn't exactly original but in recent films, Moulin Rouge is the only thing that comes to mind that uses this, off the top of my head. Hey, Luhrmann is sticking to what he knows, I guess that's not such a bad thing. We are introduced to Nick Carraway, who is visiting a therapist of some kind, to talk about his time in New York. I have to say, his voice when we first hear it sounds much older than he actually is in the film, like "old man recounting a story to his grandchildren" old. Just a small thing, no relevance. We quickly find out, from a shot of his therapist's report, that Carraway is a recovering alcoholic, he's been depressed and has a good few other mental issues. He starts talking about how he's lost faith in humanity, how the world is a terrible, terrible place filled with terrible, terrible people, so on and so forth, poetic brooding, et cetera et cetera. All this, with the exception of one "Gatsby". This opening (and I'm not sure if this is because of the book or not) feels incredibly similar to the opening of, you guessed it, Moulin Rouge, with the artist (yeah, did I mention that Carraway is a writer?) brooding in a corner and talking about how the world is full of darkness and despair. Substitute Ewan McGregor with Tobey Maguire and you basically have the same opening, give or take a few words. Also, Luhrmann does that thing from Moulin Rouge where words appear on screen as the protagonist narrates. It made sense in MR, not really here until he does actually start writing. From these patterns, I just get the feeling that Baz Luhrmann, not unlike Stephen King, likes having little things the same in all of the things he does (ahem, moody writers, ahem ahem) Aaaaaand back to the plot.

We find out that Nick Carraway moved to New York and taught himself to be a stockbroker by reading a book. He visits his cousin, Daisy, for tea and we meet his her husband, Tom Buchanan. We are told by "Carraway" (in quotations because he will never be anyone but Tobey Maguire, I will expand on this later) that he is a polo player who comes from old money. And so one of the many themes of the film is introduced: Money. Most of the main characters have much of it (everyone except some side characters and Tobey Maguire, actually). In the same scene we meet Daisy we are also introduced to Jordan Baker, a sports star and supposed love interest for Maguire, which really goes no where, for two reasons: 1. Tobey Maguire is incapable of showing emotions, except the face depicted below and neutral (which doubles as "generic goofy")

2. They have one conversation over the course of the film. I'm supposed to believe that they're involved, or that either one is in anyway interested in the other? The bromance between Gatsby and Maguire was more convincing.

No, no you won't. But that said you won't really be anyone else either.
You just aren't very good at what you do.

That said, I have no problems with the rest of the acting in this film. It's just Maguire, who I have never liked in anything. He made me dislike Peter Parker. He's Spiderman for god's sake. That takes skill. I didn't mind most of the rest of the Spiderman movies because there wasn't much Maguire in that, it was a stuntman and/or CGI dude in a mask with Maguire's voice, which I don't hate. I was so unbelievably glad when they rebooted the Spiderman franchise with the god among us that is Andrew Garfield. Rant on Maguire postponed until I've explained the plot more fully.

There's this awesome scene where Daisy and Jordan are lying on a couch and the doors are all open and white curtain are billowing around the place, simply because it looks cool. And it is cool, it just seems to have no reason whatsoever, unless I'm missing some metaphor. I keep getting distracted so I'm going to quickly summarise the plot. SPOILERS. Tom, Daisy's husband is having an affair. Jay Gatsby is a billionaire claiming to come from a wealthy family but secretly he's just a penniless nothing who saved some rich guy and learned how to be a gentleman. He and some mobsters set up a load of speakeasies and bonds scams so that he can be as rich as he can act. Gatsby, as a young soldier, met Daisy at a party and they fell in love. He had to go back to war and, because of complications, was not there to sweep Daisy off her feet before she married Buchanan for his money. Gatsby bought a house across the bay from Daisy and throws huge parties in the hope that Daisy will stumble in some night and they can rekindle their romance. When he finds out that Carraway  is Daisy's cousin, he befriends him and uses him to get into contact with Daisy again. They reconnect, have sex a few times and Gatsby starts trying to convince Daisy to leave her husband for him, so they can start off right back where they were five years ago. She puts this off until a big confrontation scene where Gatsby basically does this for her, but she refuses to say that she never lover Tom. The scene ends and on the way back to the Buchanan's, Daisy accidentally runs over the woman who Tom was having an affair with, killing her. Daisy stops talking to Gatsby, he stops having parties and his empire begins to collapse, as he waits for word from Daisy. The husband of the woman Daisy killed comes to Gatsby's house, shoots him and Carraway is left disillusioned with the world.

The main message of this film is "rich people can get away with anything" or, alternately "the world is bad and you should feel bad". I think a lot of the things I liked about this movie were to do with the story, which probably just means I like the book and not necessarily the film itself. I did say I wasn't going to try and separate the two but I feel a little ill-equipped to find the strengths of the film when I don't know the source material. It's a just me reiterating the point (ie. covering my ass), I'll power through.

Such a great scene, where we see Gatsby for the first time.
Look at the colours. Look at them.
Oh my freaking god, so much awesome!

Looking back having seen the movie, the thing that most sticks out in my memory (keep that mind out of the gutter) are the visuals. Holy crap is this a nice film to look at. The colours are bright and vibrant when they need to be, like in the party scenes and the fun scenes between Daisy and Gatsby. The night-time scenes looking across the bay or at Gatsby's house as the lights go out, spectacular. Speaking of the party scenes, it's clear that Baz Luhrmann is getting much better at these. Think back to that scene in Romeo + Juliet where Leo DiCaprio's on E and Mercutio's in drag and there's loads of crazy shit going down. In that scene, while I understand it was meant to be frantic and chaotic, the cuts were too fast to focus and it just got annoying. The same problem comes to mind when thinking about Moulin Rouge, particularly the second scene with the huge dance number. I have to say, going into "Gatsby" knowing that it was done by the same guy, I was readying the aspirin for when I got home. But no, the cuts are well timed. There's enough going on in the shot that they've captured the riotous party antics but not so much that the viewer gets a headache trying to keep up. Well done, Luhrmann, well done...

Another concern I had going into this was music related. As I've mentioned (this is only the fourteenth time, better bring it up again), I couldn't get very far into Moulin Rouge and part of the reason for this was because the modern music annoyed the hell out of me. It was never explained. I get the whole suspension of disbelief thing but I was sitting there like "are they seriously ripping off Sound of Music? Is this a parallel universe where different musical eras never happened and so they all occur at once? And if so, how is it that the bohemian "can-can" period could still happen more or less on par with this reality?" Ugh, I just- I couldn't endure it. But I digress. I knew that there was going to be modern music in this but I also knew that the characters themselves would not be singing, which gave me some ingot of hope. For some reason R'n'B and hip-hop were the musical genres of choice, because that's exactly what comes to mind when one thinks of jazz age New York. But... it worked. Don't get me wrong, I do question why they didn't just go with, you know, jazz but honestly, the decision began to make more and more sense as the film progressed. If you think about it, the attitude towards jazz at the time was not hugely unlike the attitude towards R'n'B and hip-hop today (or, at least when the genres were new). Jazz was edgy in its day. It was associated with loose, fast living, partying every night and throwing caution and consequences to the wind; much like the type of thing that R'n'B is associated with today. There's also the fact that a large number of successful jazz musicians were and are of colour, the same can be said for R'n'B and hip-hop. Jazz and R'n'B, one in the same (I never thought I would find myself saying that)

Jay Gatsby;
on Wednesdays he wears pink

What else was there in this movie? I have to say, I thought the pacing was very good. Gatsby is not properly introduced until a good half hour into the film and the build up is very well executed. You really get the sense that he's this infamous guy, you know the one, the guy who you always hear about but have never actually met. Like a cross between Chuck Norris and Regina George, he's more legend than flesh and blood. Gatsby is encapsulated incredibly by DiCaprio's performance, I love how suave and classy he is when we first see him, but we also get just how nervous he is to see Daisy for the first time in five years (he actually climbs out the window, he's so scared). That childlike impulse to run from the thing he's yearned for (to the point of obsession) for years, is very human. This makes the character so likable, a much necessary trait given the idol he's been built up as. The desperation to get back what he feels has been stolen from him, and the anger at those he feels responsible for taking both time and the love of his life is truly heartbreaking and tragically genuine. Not that I can relate or anything. And, oh, his eyes are so blue, it's crazy. His refrain of "Old sport" (pronounced "Spawt") is a tad annoying but I let him away with it because I love so many other facets of the character. I also like a lot of what they didn't show in this movie regarding Gatsby's private life dealing with mobsters and corrupt officials behind the scenes. I saw this film with my boyfriend and this was something he criticised but I felt it added a lot to the tone of the film. Because, in real life you don't see a lot of what goes on with these people. The complex nature of Gatsby as a character comes in part from the fact that the audience doesn't fully know how he's gotten this money until much later in the film. His calls from mystery businessmen give a more sinister layer, while his reluctance to answer them while spending time with Daisy reminds us of his true motive: love.

Small sidenote: The motif of phones ringing reminded me a little of Tom Stoppard's play "The Real Inspector Hound", I kept half expecting a ditsy maid to answer it and break the fourth wall.

I loved all the performances in this except for the aforementioned Maguire. Tom Buchanan was great, he had the "I'm rich so I can do whatever the fuck I want" thing going on, but he is also very human. Watching him, you can't help but think of every sneaky, lying, smug douche you've ever known. Every word that comes from his mouth makes you hate him, yet he's also strangely relateable. His fear when he feels that he may be losing his wife and mistress in one fell swoop is very real, though terrible in it's nature. The conversations between him and Gatsby are deliciously snarky and awkward, every word they say to each other on screen is delightfully hate-filled. I love Carrie Mulligan's Daisy, she has the frivolity and materialism of the type of girl who marries into money, but we do see her genuinely conflicted when Gatsby reappears in her life. Her resolution (SPOILER, she chooses Tom in the end because he promises to keep the whole hit and run scandal away and he has money) is believable because she was never painted as a morally strong character.

Grrrr...

And now to the weakest part of the film, in my opinion: Tobey Maguire's Nick Carraway. This character does nothing. He learns next to nothing, he shows barely any emotion and he is almost totally unaffected by the incidents that happened around him in New York, even though he's supposedly scarred mentally. What, has he recovered so fast from this traumatising experience? You get to the end of the film and you realise that you know nothing about this character. He's not much of a stock broker, that's for sure. It seems like the film is trying to tell you his calling is writing but, as an writer myself, he lacks conviction, the passion needed to be a true wordsmith. The councillor has to persuade him to write about his experiences, surely if this guy considers himself a writer this would be his instinct? Aside from throwing fancy words around and observing things, Carraway doesn't actually appear to have any creativity, it just feels forced. I blame Maguire but that may just be me and my bias. Another thing that really bothers me is his high and mighty morals in this. Now, again, not having read the book, I don't know if he's written to seem entirely hypocritical or if he does really grapple with the issues of loyalty that are put to him in the book, but here? Maguire's character moans beginning to end about how terrible humanity is, how awfully people can treat each other yet the character is totally passive when it actually gets down to it. Tom Buchanan actually brings Nick along while he's meeting up with his mistress (there's a really funny moment where Maguire is sitting, passive as always, in an unfamiliar apartment while he can hear Tom and his mistress (played by Isla Fisher, a great character) going at it in the other room). You'd think that this character, with all his moral fibre, would tell his cousin about the affair, which she already suspects. But no, apparently "bros before hos" applies to family as well. Dammit Maguire, get your shit straight!

Overall, I liked this movie a lot. I thought the story was great, the pacing and build up well handled, the colours were breathtaking and I found most of the characters engaging and real. If I had a star system or something this film would definitely be in the top fifty percent. Tobey Maguire drags things down, regardless of how well written the piece is. Visually fantabulous, except maybe for a couple of the scenes where we're shown New York from above, it seemed a little fake to me (though this might be down to my seeing it in 2D when it was shot in 3D).

Embrace the Madness

Show, don't tell

Hey. For those of you who know me (or feel you do), the thing that I would like to do when I "grow up" (ha, like that's ever going to happen) is write. Ideally, because I love TV and film, I'd like to write scripts but I'll take what I can get (I would like to write a novel at some point, and I've written a short play) So recently I have been trying to hone my writing skills a bit, a thing which I have tried to do most summers but haven't really gotten round to properly, prior to this year, as is possibly apparent by my return to blogging. However, when writing creatively, as opposed to this, which I consider much more conversational, stream of thought stuff, I have been having difficulty recently with the idea of "Show, don't tell". 

This phrase is one of the most common pieces of advice you will get as a writer, it is what, in the eyes of most people, distinguishes the the greats from the gruesome, aces from the amateurs, the marvelous from the mediocre (the alliteration abusers from the ably articulating anteaters). And it is difficult. More difficult than I realised up until recently. for some reason, this has never been an obvious problem for me. I would write my stories, create characters, drop hints here and there about them and the situation, dialogue, descriptions, all that jazz. No problem. 

But recently, my writing has been different. Not simply because I have been trying to write longer pieces but because I have been thinking in film. This idea is probably a good thing, considering that my ultimate goal is to write for film and TV but it is hella distracting when you want to write something subtle and cannot for the life of you find any subtlety. True, it fluctuates. Some days I can write things that could keep someone guessing. But regarding most the things happening in the scene itself, no way. If I want a character to be alarmed by something, I have to say he was alarmed, even if the protagonist doesn't realise that he is so, or know why. If I want a character to briefly look down to signify something then I have to say so making my intent gapingly obvious. 

This. Kills. Me. 

I fail to comprehend how I dealt with this in the past. How I coped with the exasperatingly difficult problem of keeping things from your reader when you have to describe every little thing. Reading back over my writing I cannot not think (even though I may be reading far too much into it) "This is in here and it seems to have no relevance, so the reader will know it's foreshadowing". The thing with "Showing and not telling" is that it is virtually IMPOSSIBLE when one is telling a story. Telling. It's in the freaking description. 

I have no idea what I'm doing

This is, I've realised (though probably much later than my subconscious), why I want to work with the medium of film. Subtlety. I've always been a very visual person, so I love the idea that you can tell a whole story with someone's reaction to something. When you have to describe that reaction, no matter how briefly, so much of the element of surprise is lost. In a TV show, if someone has a moment of discovery but then has to hide it, the viewer might miss it. If they do catch it, the viewer is intrigued and the mind writes the stories itself. It isn't likely that a reader will miss something as clearly leading as: 

"X stopped for a moment, as the details finally clicked into place. He quickly composed himself, however, for fear that Y would notice and ask the wrong questions."

Now, it may just be my writing style, but that doesn't exactly scream "subtle" (is "scream subtle" an oxymoron?). I guess it's part of the craft. I am determined to work past it, this will will not defeat me. I am, at heart, a wordsmith, and so help me, I will make a badass sword and slay this writers block. Or die trying. Or maybe just fall asleep.

Embrace the Madness

Why I should rule the world

Hey there fellow inhabitants of Earth. Today I have decided to discuss the ever popular rant subject: Politics. 

No, no, come back! It'll be interesting, I swear! I have theories, so many theories! Most of them incredibly dumb and outrageous, so much so that they are definitely worth your time. Please stay!

Alright then, those of you not scared away by the very prospect of this ominous topic probably want to know my stances or something. First, a bit about me. I don't know if this is a common thing but as a child, I always found politics to be one of those mysterious "adult" things that I would never grasp, a little like things on high shelves (I still have trouble with this one) or the idea that anyone would voluntarily eat olives. I did, inevitably, get older and as I did I began to really embrace the- I took an interest in- I still had no fucking clue. 

Sure, I watched the news and read the papers, sorta, and aged twelve we had a class debate on "The Lisbon Treaty". No one understood it but I exploited the hell out of it because I love the sound of my own voice convincing other people they are wrong. I didn't know why they were wrong, I was just sure they were. Politics. I used shaky metaphors to confuse and attack my young audiences' senses (though I can't remember who won the debate, maybe not a great sign). I liked this. I liked coming up with stuff on the spot and selling it with clever wordplay and comparisons, despite realising I was n fact mistaken halfway through my spiel. I liked the fact that most other people could not do this quite as well as me. This was one incident, after this my political encounters died down for about four years. Then came the hotbed of teenage snarkiness, lust and drama that is....The Model United Nations.

Some recap for foreigners: in Ireland we have this thing called "Transition Year". It is basically the year after your first set of "big" (and by big I mean, totally pointless) exams, equivalent to the British GCSEs but much less influential to the rest of your life (I'm given to understand anyway). Transition Year is the year after that, where you take a break from the "stress" of the previous year and gain valuable experience in areas that aren't necessarily academic, ie. not showing up for school, getting royally pissed/high/both and losing your virginity. Yay, experience! (Disclaimer: I part-took in only one of these listed activities. You can try and guess which)

Anyway, this being the year that's in it, there were many more extra curricular activities offered by the school. One of these was the FOTHERMUCKING MODEL UNITED NATIONS. I know, I'm a total badass. Remembering my former debating "prowess", I signed up. To start, I have to be honest, I sucked. Can't confidently say I don't still suck. I use the same razzle dazzle empty words as before except this wasn't as effective because, could this be? People actually knew what they were talking about. 

This led to me having to properly educate myself of not only world politics (which I probably dislike most because it can be so policy based from the get go, with little room for swaying people) but the politics of life. Issues like abortion, internet censorship, religious conflicts, gay rights, female equality, drugs, corruption, journalism in conflict zones (most of which I will probably rant on at a later date). Of course, I had been aware of these before but this made them more real. Felt like people gave a crap about what I had to say on subjects, enough even to make up long speeches on why I'm wrong. It is truly flattering when someone take the time to slam your opinions with such force, and often humour. I have learned a lot from MUN and I'm sure I will continue to learn from it. But the most life changing thing I've learned is... I should be in charge of everything.

Allow me to explain. When it comes to politics, I've always been a great believer in the idea that "People who are best suited to power are those who don't want it." I realise that my previous statement contradicts this completely but bear with me. People are selfish. People are stupid. People have a tendency to hate other people. This is why our world is so utterly fucked one hundred percent of the time. People are too involved, always working their own agenda. I like Douglas Adams' idea in "Hitch-hiker's" about the guy who governs the universe living totally isolated from everything (except his cat, named God) and having few actual opinions. Of course, human nature doesn't work that way. Everyone has an opinion. The solution we've come to on this is Democracy: a bureaucratic slushy mess of too many cooks spoiling the world. The alternative is fairly efficient oppression (usually). Rock and a hard place. But, as my dad likes to say (quoting Winston Churchill) "Democracy is a terrible system. The only thing worse is everything else". He also likes saying that "Socialists are people with nothing who want to share it with you". I love my dad, he's hi-lurious. 

Myself, I'm not against Democracy (I like the voice of the people aspect as I am one of those things) but I do think other things might be more effective (I kinda like the tribal King/Rí system they had in pre-platations Ireland, but that might be over romanticised in my head). In fact, I have many ideas for really out there political systems that would never be given a chance because there's too much risk involved. 

My plan is this: I want to get someone to design a virtual reality in which these highly experimental systems could be tested with minimal chances of another world war and/or running the global economy further into the mud. We'd get a test group of, say, five hundred people from different backgrounds, with different skills etc and govern them with the decided system. Each would last six months or until the system fails and they'd get paid and stuff. It'd be like a way more inconvenient jury duty. Oh, it should all be televised, people love that shit. Also, great source of funding. (I credit George Carlin in part for this idea, his "four groups that have to go" bit was awesome.)

So, without further ado, I will now share my ideas for governing systems. This is what I would do if I ruled the world. It would be so much fun. Don't expect anything too groundbreaking:

1. Give control to the internet: Basically, every time a decision has to be made, start a feed on some forum or on twitter and everyone chip in their little words. Chaos would probably ensue but I think I trust the internet much more than I should, I like to think people would do me proud. But it'd probably fail. Horribly.

2. Design a robot to rule over us: I know, I know, sci-fi has made the very idea of giving the slightest bit of power to them inhuman creations a taboo. But honestly, it think they'd do ok. Yeah, in things like "Space Odyssey" and "I, Robot" it is this idea that becomes our downfall but if it was designed well the system could effectively be free of human weakness and selfishness. There is still the problem of "How could a human create something free of human weakness" but hey, if we get somewhere close, it could work. Or we could all be enslaved. At least we wouldn't have to pay taxes, haha, am I right?.......I'm seventeen. This means nothing to me.

3. Give power exclusively to one, highly specific group of people: This one is really just to see what we would learn (because it's all televised, it'd be one helluva behavioural study). The concept is simple: Take turns giving power to one demographic. Women, Black people, Christians, Children (I like this one a lot), you name it, we try it. People could take bets on which one would last the longest. It'd be spectacular chaos.

4. Give power to (good) comedians: This one is slightly similar to the previous one, but I personally think this'd be fascinating. They say that humour is the enemy of authority... so what happens when you merge the two. I would entrust the entire nation of Ireland to someone like Dara O'Briain or Ed Byrne. Graham Norton (though I do know he's Irish), Jack Whitehall and Sarah Millican, you take the UK. We'd have to ressurect George Carlin, give him America, along with a lot of the good internet comedians (TGWTG.com, looking at you). And even if it fails, great TV. 

5. Get conspiracy theorists to run everything: This one would be fantastic simply because of their reactions. Imagine, you're a fanatical conspiracy theorist, convinced the government is up to no good, and two big guys in suits show up at your door and go "You're the government now, come with us." That momentary look on the person's face would be totally worth the almost immediate collapse of society. And, these people would learn a valuable lesson.

6. Govern by the "Siblings dividing food" principle: This idea is based on this thing my dad used to make me and my sister do whenever there was a fight over dividing food. He'd get one of us to break the thing in half and the other one to choose which half they got. Resulting in fairness (mostly, Maeve used to always insist that I do the splitting). This idea is to have a "buddy system" among nations, let's use China and the US as examples. China rules the US but the US also rules them. China does something shitty to the US, the US fucks them over equally. Eventually, a balance would be found. Or everyone would die because it's a hugely optimistic, naive idea. 

7. Equality: This one is my last idea and probably the most outrageous. What if everyone had their basic needs catered for (things like enough food, shelter, clean water) and other luxuries were earned through work? Ha! I'm sorry, it's just so ridiculous, like, how could that even work? 

There we go, some ideas as to how the world should be governed. Put me in charge, people. It'd at least be funny. If you know anyone in power, show them this, please. It's not meant to be serious, but it'd be epic if someone who actually does have a say in stuff read them. For a laugh. I'd make the best Overlord ever. Because I am a lazy shit and I hate responsibility. Perfect CV, right there.

Embrace the Madness

Man of Meh

Hello internetters, I come to you with probably the billionth review of this movie that you have seen on the internet of late. I'm sorry, I just have to be heard on this, everyone has an opinion but mine is right (Kidding. Maybe.) so this is the "Man of Steel". Just a warning, there will be spoilers and they will not always be labeled as such so I'll just put a big 'ol SPOILERS thingy here. Turn back, ye of unspoiled minds. You have no place here.

Fun Fact: When I told my sister I was going to see this, she was like "But wait, didn't you already see Iron Man 3?"
I worry about her.

Ugh, where to begin. First off, I'd like to state that I did not hate "Man of Steel" as a film. I didn't particularly like the story they chose to tell but I did like some of how they did it. I also just didn't think it did itself justice, it could have been really good for the budget and team they had. I think that's a lot of the reason people are so up in arms about it, because they expected soo much more.

So, plot. There, um, is one, mostly. The film starts on Krypton, Superman's home planet (or birth planet, I suppose) where we are introduced to his parents Jor-El (played by Russell Crowe) and "woman-who-we-don't-see-for-the-rest-of-the-movie-and-really-holds-very-little-importance"-El. I wasn't bothered to Google her name. They have decided to part-take in the first natural birth on Krypton in over a thousand years (Wahey ;) Seriously, did some Kryptonian chancellor or something just decide "Y'know what I reeeally don't want to have to do anymore? Have sex. Let's not do that anymore." And people just went along with it? Minor thing, I will get on with the plot.) So, yeah, the Els did it and now they have little bouncing baby Kal-El. But it turns out that Krypton is imploding because they harvested too much of the planet's core and it's become unstable, so Jor-El has decided to send his son off in a rocket to an inhabitable planet called Earth (that, for some reason, only he knows about, even though the Kryptonians have been looking for other planets to inhabit now that theirs is imploding. Nice guy.) He also steals the Kryptonian codex McGuffin thingie that has all the genetic code of every Kryptonian who is yet to be born in it (cos, y'know, they gave up sex.). Meanwhile, General Zod (Michael Shannon) and his silly suited super- friends are rebelling against the council of Krypton because... the planet's imploding #YOLO? There's this double plot thing going on where Zod wants to stop Jor-El for breaking the sex rules but is also breaking rules himself by staging a freaking coup. Kal-El goes off in his rocket thing, there's this pointless but awesome bit with Jol-El riding a lion/dragonfly hybrid to somewhere and the (mini) coup-ers (teehee, puns) are arrested and sent to the "Phantom Zone" for their crimes. Oh, and SPOILER, somewhere in there Zod kills our buddy Jor.

One of the best things in this movie. I want one oh so badly.
Sorry you can't see it that well, it's hard to find good pictures when you don't know technical names.

This bit takes up around the first 20-30 minutes of screen time. It's the first impression so it's really important. Here's what I did like. I loved the design of Krypton. Just a little sidenote, I'm probably going to be making a lot of Dr. Who comparisons in this post, so non-Whovians, bear with me please. I have to say, the Kryptonian landscape, while being incredibly beautiful, well done designers there (you will be getting shit later, sorry) is very reminiscent of Gallifrey in Dr. Who, when we see it in flashbacks and the like (minus the two suns and the domey thing over the buildings). The lighting and colours were very similar and I suppose they are quite similar in concept- they are the place where our protagonist can never return to, that unreachable Utopia (even if it wasn't actually perfect. Nostalgia goggles, I guess). I also loved the dragonfly thing but I was also acutely aware of the fact that Krypton was going to be destroyed because that is Superman's story, he has no home planet. I liked the swirly, almost celtic in design, style of the writing (I suppose) which had that whole ancient-but-also-advanced thing going on (ahem, Gallifreyan, ahem ahem), I liked that. I'll admit, I was a little iffy when Jor-El puts a key with the freaking Superman symbol on it in the ship to start it! I was like, "Dude, it's an S, that's meant to come AFTER he's Superman!" This does come back though, and, while I still think it's a little obnoxious to throw that in there, it annoyed me less once explained. Speaking of obnoxious, there is, as I'm sure most people who have been anywhere on the internet (or anywhere else for that matter) know, the issue of SHAKY-CAM. The "Hunger Games" had it, people thought it was mildly irritating but it made sense. The same with things like "Saving Private Ryan" and anything by Rolland Emmerich (he did "2012" and "Independence Day", you get the gist), annoying but made sense. But this? The camera shakes the entire freaking time! The first time I saw it make half a lick of sense was in the flying scene with awesome dragonfly beast, where Jor is swooping and swerving around buildings and rocks and stuff, but even then, it is so over done. I couldn't focus on the awesome cinematography or the landscape that was on screen because the camera effects would not let me. Film-makers, the human eye cannot move that fast. It gets to a point where all is a blur and you're watching smudged colours instead of the film you guys worked so hard on. The other scenes, no need for the shaky cam. As several internet reviewers have said in the past, about this and other movies, "Tripods are your friend. Invest!". To credit my main influences regarding this particular point: http://thatguywiththeglasses.com/ (Look up the Nostalgia Critic and Nostalgia Chicks' stuff, they taught me much about the art of criticising things. And it probably shows. A lot.)

One of them pinart doohickies.
 I love these, they amuse me endlessly.
Because I am a child. Effectively.

That was really the main issue that I had with this part of the film. There was also this really cool computer thing with little metal balls it uses to create images, I loved that, I hadn't seen anything like that before (though I have a feeling the filmmakers may have drawn inspiration from those pinart things). Zod's motivation seemed stupid but as the film progresses you realise that that is nowhere near the stupidest decision made, not by a long way. Jor-El's death didn't affect me that much because you really don't find out much about him as a character in this stretch of film (other than the fact he cares about his bloodline being passed on and that he stands up to Zod. Oh and that he has the best pet in the history of ever!) and then it's like, "Oops, he's dead." And then (SPOILERS) it turns out that he might as well not be dead cos he's in a good portion of the rest of the movie. The flying dragonfly-lion, as I have said, was epicness incarnate, I hate this film for not being more about these. Goddammit movie, why did you make me fall in love with this then rip it away? WHY?!! Ahem, other than that, the sets were kinda bland, generic alien spaceship style things. The cortumes were alright but again, most of the appeal there was the stylised Gallif- I mean Kryptonian script. Most of the time, Zod looked like one of those action figures with detachable head and limbs and huuuuuge shoulder muscles (and skipped leg day).

Superbeards, impervious to flames
but not razors, apparently.

One of the other best things in this movie

After this bit, we see baby Kal's ship hurtling into Earth's atmosphere and we cut to a fishing boat. First thoughts, the fishing boat is going to get hit by/ witness the landing of the ship. This does not happen. You see this fisherman dude yell at the greenhorn/ landlubber/ noob who did something wrong. The camera briefly shows his face, mostly shadowed by a hat and I'm like, "Wait, is that the guy from the trailer? The guy playing Superman? But that can't be him, he's in that spaceship, and, you know, A BABY! Surely they aren't jumping straight into him grown up?" Silly me, I expected logic. Superman (we think) then proceeds to rescue some people from a burning oil rig (How did that happen? No idea.), demonstrating his incredible strength and bravery. This scene really has very little relevance to the plot except to show that a) This guy is Superman and b) The writers of this didn't know what continuity was. Somehow, though, I didn't mind so much about this scene. It had some worth, it set up the character's powers, showed the lengths to which superman will go to help people, even ones he doesn't know and it, um, shows that superbeards are flameproof? Who knew? Did I mention that he inexplicably loses his shirt somewhere along the way? Mmm, dripping wet, shirtless, bearded Henry Cavill, pushing iron structures off people and stuff. This movie may have many, many flaws but I for one have no complaints here. So Superman (who's name we don't actually know yet, just for the record) steals some clothes (such a hero) and goes off broodingly to, um, do something. I think it's about here where we have our first flashback to Clark Kent's childhood. We see him in a classroom, a teacher writing on a chalkboard and she asks Clark a question. Can I just reiterate, we have never heard this name before. We have no idea of it's significance in the movie at all, except maybe for the fact that the zoned out kid the camera focuses on looks vaguely like the bearded dude from the last scene. This movie makes far too many assumptions of the audience regarding the superman story. It'd be ok if it was a parody of something, that people go to because they know about the subject and want to laugh at in jokes, but as a stand alone film (and one that is not actually called "Superman" at that) you can't assume that sort of thing. That's just presumptuous.

Ok, so Clark is in this classroom and he's looking kinda spaced, honestly. The camera then goes into what he's seeing and the whole room is x-rayified. Now this is actually really cool. This kid is terrified as he can see his teacher's heart beating in her ribcage. Such a great shot, and a great idea. I like the idea that x-ray vision, one of the less well known and frankly, the least useful of Superman's powers could be a sort of curse for young Clark growing up. It isn't explained why this seems so new to him but the idea was so original that I'll let that slide. Yeah, in other renditions of the superman story you have him kind of suffer because he's stronger than other people and he has to be careful and all that, but seeing this little boy near petrified with fear at what he can see if the first instance that I can think of where his powers seem like a genuine weakness, something that could traumatise him. That's kinda making him human, relateable. That was a nice scene (again, when he uses his heat vision, why is that not freaky to him? Why does that seem to manifest controllably and not the x-ray vision? Minor problems.) That's one thing I liked about this and they generally begin to reduce from here on.

This is also around the part where I'm going to have to stop telling the plot in order, for the simple reason that I can't remember the order. True, I've only seen this movie once but I have a decent memory, especially visually, so with most movies I can usually piece it together (even things that jump around the timeline, like "Pulp Fiction" I can remember more or less in order). This is another major problem with this movie; it feels so constantly disjointed. It expects too much of the audiences' deductive powers, no not even that, willingness to deduce things, and it really tries our patience (again, usually I like movies that challenge the viewer a little, that keep us guessing and thinking like in "Cloud Atlas" or "Memento". Hell, Christopher Nolan wrote for and directer Memento! Dammit movie, stop making me dislike things I like!) From now on I think I'm going to have to jump around a little in terms of story and maybe focus on characters and elements more.

Concerning characters, I think one of my favourites is Amy Adams' Lois Lane. She seems to have been getting a lot of flack from reviewers for being useless and forced as a love interest, but I disagree. Yeah, maybe the whole romance thing is a wee bit forced on Clark's part but he's not human, and c'mon now, you can't blame her attraction to this mysterious, handsome, compassionate man who saved her life. Regarding her being called bland and useless as a character, I whole-heartedly disagree. This is the first portrayal of Lois where she does do things. She's brave, going into the cave/spaceship (it's the Fortress of Solitude, why not call it that?) thing because she fears for the man she saw go in but also to satisfy her own journalistic curiousity. She sticks up for herself in conversation with the male reporters (the whole "I'm a girl, here, watch me totally own this dude who's being all misogynistic and shit" thing is clichéd, I know, but it is a point). Aside from falling off of things (because she does that a lot in this movie) and having to be saved because of that (in my head, Clark is all "Oh no, my Lois falling senses are tingling...please don't sue me, Spiderman) she is an important part of the film. She does that thing with the superkey McGuffin that was important somehow to the Kryptonians being defeated, (seeing this movie with my boyfriend, we were joking that if you took Superman out, it wouldn't make a huge difference with all the good he's doing) she uses her journalist powers to trace Superman back to his home town, actually finding his house (stalking that many an obsessive fangirl would envy). She is determined, she goes with the whole "aliens among us" story even when her editor decides he's going to suspend her. He's played by Laurence Fishburne, who I reeally wanted a "what if I told you..." line from. I was disappointed. Shame on you, movie, you had the opportunity so many times! I do question this in contrast to how willingly people believe the UFO and Zod on the TV thing, i wanted to scream at the screen "Check if it's a prank! What kind of journalists are you?!" Ugh, at least Lois has a reason to take it at face value. I thought her character was one of the most three dimensional. I was also happy with the chemistry between Lois and Clark. They don't kiss or anything til the very end of the film, which I thought was good, a lot of movies would have a kiss after the second encounter, at least. No, they took their time. Well done. They had conversations, they got to know each other, there're even a few funny moments, like the "Why the S?", "In my language it means hope", "Yeah, well here it's an S" scene. I thought that was a show of them genuinely building the relationship, really properly interacting like human beings. I was so relieved when they didn't do the "glasses on, glasses off" bit except for in the very end of the movie. And I don't judge that for its silliness because the canon is silly, and they do it well(ish).

Now to the Jesus metaphor. Ugh, shoot me. For those of you who don't know me personally, I am quite adamantly atheistic. I was raised Catholic, indoctrinated from birth, Catholic school, the whole shebang. I stopped being Catholic age thirteen, when the bribes stopped coming (seriously, they pay you. But that's another rant). Since then I have gone through a phase of announcing to the world "I don't believe!" to trying to convince others to become as jaded as me to eventually being fairly accepting and less pushy but still firmly secular. I dislike things that unnecessarily make things about religion. I realise it's historically relevant, I realise that it's easily recogniseable, I realise that a lot of things can be tweaked slightly to have a religious meaning. Fine. But when you make it so damn obvious and in your face it's just annoying. It's not clever or in any way subtle, it's annoying and patronising. People are going to draw these metaphors on their own, you don't have to make him thirty-three or stress the fact that he submits to handcuffing because "it wouldn't be much of a sacrifice if he resisted". This is literally in the same freaking scene. Way to hammer that home. Stupid. It's not a Jesus story. It's more like a Dr. Who or a Moses story if anything.
Moses: sent away from his home at birth in fear for his life. Grows up in a different environment, then has to choose which side he is truly on. (Granted in the Moses tale, he chooses his roots over his home but that's minor.)

I miss David Tennant.
Dayum, he's sexy in those glasses... 

Dr. Who: He's the last of his kind. He's an alien. He loves humanity and deeply regrets the fact that sometimes he is the reason they are put in danger while he also feels obligated to save them. He must constantly be careful of how he uses his powers. He is against killing, trying as best he can to use his powers peacefully. He keeps his true identity a secret from most, with a few exceptions (usually female). He can never return to his home planet.
He will try to reason with the enemy before jumping into the fighting. He is conflicted in his loyalties (this is particularly prominent in season three of the show, where the Doctor has to choose whether or not he will have to kill the Master, and if he'll be able to if it comes to that) Glasses and phone-boxes.

Most of the comparisons with Jesus are made by the writers of the film itself, which really doesn't count. When in the comics did he martyr himself any more than any other hero? Yes, he has two daddies but so did Peter Parker, in effect, people don't call him Jesus.

Designwise, I didn't like the lighting for a lot of this movie, it's been said a million times but it was trying to be "The Dark Knight" and it failed because Superman is not Batman. Batman would not wear a red cape and tights. Just no. It's alright if his movie is very black in the costume and prop and set departments because that's Batman's thing. It really doesn't work with Superman. The Kryptonian ship design, I'm gonna be honest, reminded me of the aliens from "Wreck it Ralph". They were so stylistically boring and felt like parodies of aliens that had already been done, like those in "War of the Worlds". As I've mentioned, the insides of the ships were dull, generic and sci-fi-ish. The same with the Kryptonians' Earth suits, boring as hell. I know the movie is taking itself seriously and all but that doesn't mean you can't be creative with your armour and whatnot. It's a superhero movie, for fuck sake, you are allowed to be a little frivolous, even with your villains. Look at The Joker in TDK, he was creative, and terrifying. It can be done! Russell Crowe was... I get the feeling that the filmmakers were like "We've got Russell Crowe as Jor-El! Oh, but he dies in the first twenty minutes. Hey, let's make him the explaining guru guy who also somehow has power to open and close doors and just generally be a useful plot device for lazy writers. I did like the relationship between the Earth Commander (I think) and the second in commant Kryptonian who (SPOILER) both die at the end. There's this line they both say about how it's just and honourable to die for your nation or planet or whatever (ahem, army propaganda, ahem ahem) which kinda highlights the fact that they are both pawns in the bigger struggle, and have no personal enmity, almost a respect for their worthy opponent. I'm probably reading into this one small chunk of plot a little too much but I don't care, this was one bit I liked, the way I interpreted it.

This is a legitimate shot from the movie.
 I wanted to strangle this kid
with his own makeshift Superman cape. 

This review is going on far too long, I'm probably going to try and wrap it up about here. Just a few little things that annoyed me. At the very end of the film, there's this flashback where mini-Clark is in the garden playing with the dog and he ties a red cloth around his neck and strikes the typical heroic Superman pose. I wanted to murder this movie for this. THIS COMES FROM SUPERMAN! You cannot have Superman as a child dress up like fucking Superman. It does not work. It was incredibly stupid, I hated it. There was this one bit where they're trying to get the superkey into this doohicky and it's not working and everyone's panicking. This one guy (who we haven't seen for all the rest of the movie) figures out you have to spin the table thing in order for the key to go in. It just felt like a bad sitcom joke, like there should be canned laughter and a trombone in the background. That was stupid. Also, there was one fighting scene where the helmeted Kryptonian keeps making these "Glurghlurghalurgh" noises every time he throws a punch or whatever, I kept almost cracking up. The Kryptonians kept fighting Superman then jumping into their ship and flying off, leaving the viewer like "Are they gone now, is that it? Or...oh no, they were just re-grouping. That was pointless." The codex subplot seems to go nowhere. Why did the ready made suit have a cape? Why was there a ready made suit? I hated the whole "You need to keep your powers hidden but when the world finds out about you, you're gonna be great" spiel. Spare us, we've heard it so many times before, and in such better context. General Zod, if your primary objective is to protect the Kryptonian race, why wouldn't you compromise when faced with extinction or sharing a planet? Why did you complain about the pain of having to adjust to a new environment when it literally took you four seconds to adjust? What was the point of Zod and friends being sent to the Phantom Zone only to be instantly released when Krypton imploded? What was the explanation for the x-ray and heat ray vision (they explained the flying and strength with the different gravity on earth compared to Krypton. What, does Krypton also have less see through things?)? Ugh, I have to stop now, this movie infuriates me whenever I think of all the stupid little things and stupid big things and wasted talent that it represents. Dammit movie. I'll say it again, I didn't hate "Man of Steel", I was just so disappointed. Granted, Superman is not the most interesting of superheroes, you could have made something at least more sensical and creative than this. I have so much more I could say. Believe me, I'm being kind here.

Embrace the Madness, even when you want to hit it repeatedly in the face then yell at it for being stupid, then cry because David Tennant isn't the Doctor anymore.

Why I love Macklemore

Hey peoples, let's talk music. Macklemore, an independent rap artist only recently introduced to the eye of the public with his humorous song, "Thrift Shop". I am, personally, a big fan of his stuff, not simply because a lot of his songs are very clever and funny (such as this one I've posted below, such a great satire, I can't help but grin whenever I hear it) but because he can also evoke such emotion with his words. 

Now, "American" is perhaps not the greatest example of one of Mack's thought provoking and clever songs. They lie much more in the vein of "Same Love", "Neon Cathedral" and, one of his best, I feel, "Otherside".

Now, if I'm honest, I'm not a huge rap fan. Not because I don't like it as a medium, when I do listen to rap intervals in pop songs and such I enjoy the more personal voice that it tends to have in comparison to the hook or main part of the song. The main reason I don't consider myself a fan is that I was never really exposed to it, like many things, and so I didn't form the necessary attachment. Also, the fact that my friends weren't into rap (and still aren't, except maybe for Eminem and our friend Macklemore because they're more... accessible? I don't really know, I think, again, it's down to exposure. If you're a caucasian middle class teen living in Dublin, unless you go looking for it you're not generally going to get into rap unless it's an image thing or a peer pressure thing). 

Back on subject, Macklemore is one of the only rappers I listen to so I can't really judge him on that, nor can I really judge the genre. But I will say this. I like the poetic element of rap, particularly with this artist. I like the personal voice, the things you learn that you usually wouldn't when a person's just singing (I think I've mentioned how much I analyse people, this is another medium where I can indulge this habit, yay!) Songs can be stories about other people and tend to be more obscure, rap is pure voice, pure storytelling and I really like that. 

I also love Macklemore's range of topics that he decides to tackle; he seems to have found the balance between talking about himself, be it his childhood in "My oh My" or his career in "Victory Lap" or "Jimmy Iovine" (The storytelling and atmosphere in the latter is fantastic, go listen!). He talks about issues like race in "A wake", sexuality in "Same Love" and consumerism in a very clever piece, "Wing$". He narrates some of his struggle against alcoholism in "Starting Over" which is an interesting compliment to his clever metaphorical piece "Neon Cathedral". Then he contrasts the seriousness with some really funny stuff like "Castle" or "Gold" or just plain pump up tunes like the likes of "Can't Hold Us". I love this guy, I love his honesty, his clear intelligence and his sense of humour. I highly recommend you look him up if you haven't already. 

Something a little different

Hey guys, this is, as the title may suggest, if you are particularly intuitive, something a wee bit different to what I usually do. I am, as is mentioned on the heading to this page (twice, technically, cos I'm obnoxious and like the word "wordsmith") I an an aspiring writer, specifically of scripts but I'll take what I can get. So, I thought maybe it'd be nice to share a short story that I wrote a while ago with you people. Obviously, I don't want you to steal it or anything, be nice, you can comment if you like it or if you don't. Y'know, creative criticism and that. I'd appreciate it. so without further ado, this is a short story called "Inspiration", enjoy.

Inspiration

Geoff kicked the front door closed, tossed his jacket and duffel bag somewhere near the coat rack and narrowly avoided stepping on his dog, Rover, as he skidded into the apartment. wiping his brow, he composed himself, grinning as he glanced out the window at the empty lamp-lit street below. He had a good feeling about this, like today was finally going to be the day. He spun his wheelie chair out from under the desk and hastily opened the laptop, drumming the counter as it occurred to him to actually sit down on the wheelie chair. Doing so, Geoff patted Rover on the head and tussled the floppy hair above his eyes and ears as he waited for the screen to load.

Rover was named ironically, though not many people seemed to get that. Geoff had pretty much given up on trying to explain it to people; he’d just sigh and tell them that they wouldn’t understand. It was the same with Geoff’s name. The girl at Starbucks had smiled vacantly as he’d tried to explain that it was spelt with a G and two Fs. He could tell she’d at least half listened when he’d collected the black americano, “Jeff G”  scrawled on the side. Geoff scratched Rover under his chin. Rover was probably Geoff’s best friend in the world. Geoff didn’t mind that, he didn’t like people enough to want to be friends with them. Rover was probably smarter than most humans (and that’s counting the times he’ll run off chasing a stick that’s still in his owner’s hand). Yes, thought Geoff, I’d rather be friends with Rover, who accepts that he’s less intelligent than me, than endure primitive dolts who expect me to treat them as equals. He was better than them and they should be made aware of it. It was really only fair to them, he decided. Why let people believe they’re something they’re not? Surely it’s-

Geoff was shaken from his narcissistic train of thought by the welcome tune on his laptop. He eagerly opened word, his fingers poised over the keypad like eight hungry vipers ready to strike. Geoff shook his head, frowning. That was a bad comparison, they were more like...like...he groaned. Every time, he thought. The blank screen sat there, it’s ethereally white glow just waiting, patiently, for him to work his linguistic wizardry and transform it into art. The little flickering cursor in the top left corner, however, said

“C’mon, what’re you waiting for?! You have a  million stories locked up in that big brain of yours, let ‘em rip! Can’t be that hard, Stephenie Meyer did it and just look at what she turned out”

The problem is they’re locked up, thought Geoff. He really disliked that little vertical line, so condescending. When he ruled the world he would have it removed. Painfully, if possible.

He looked once again to the blinking line on the blank screen, trying to remember all of the literary gold he’d thought up in the car ride to his apartment. It’d been difficult with all those sirens but there had definitely been some good stuff. Maybe not pulitzer good, but pretty darn good nonetheless. He squinted his eyes and strained to remember but no particularly earth shattering revelations came to mind, other than “You should make a sandwich”. He rolled his eyes at this petty desire but his stomach, growling in approval, compelled him to briefly abandon his work and snack.

He took a slight detour from his usual route to the kitchen to collect his jacket and duffel bag from beside the coat rack, spreading them out on the kitchen table. The contents of the duffel bag spilled out, like the guts of a freshly slain dragon, and Geoff inspected the stacks of bills as he wiped down his pistol with a warm flannel. He tutted under his breath, patting rover on the head. He had followed him, of course, another admirable trait that most people failed to learn.

“The problem with bank robbery, Rover,” Geoff mused, “is that it is far too easy. You cut the phone lines, hack the security system and stroll in with a gun; they give the stuff away. Not in great condition, may I add. Honestly, a little bit of order never killed anyone. If you’re given a job you do it right; whether or not you’re being held at gunpoint is totally irrelevant”

Geoff sighed as he opened his journal and put a big black line through “Bank Robbery”, joining the terms “Credit Card Fraud”, “Pickpocketing” and “Hacking Government Databases” in the realm of rejection. The government databases had been the most disappointing, Geoff speculated, only the more mundane conspiracy theories had turned out to be true (the entire Dáil is part of an underground cult that worships a giant green tiger in the sky, praying that one day it shall return in all it’s glory, to restore true believers to their former majesty and fill all the rivers and lakes with Guinness) Not only that but he hadn’t actually been caught until he’d changed the part of the constitution regarding gay rights to read “Let them do what they want, like I care”. He’d changed it back but they’d never caught him; Geoff was fairly sure they’d pinned it on the guy who made wikileaks.

Geoff bit into his sandwich. He’d really thought this job was the kind of kick he needed. The police had even chased him for a bit. A totally futile endeavour, of course, but at least they tried. He perused the list once more, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the next term. Lots of room for creativity, he liked that.

“I think this might be the one, Rover,” he announced, spraying crumbs across the tabletop, “A quick, clean, motiveless murder is just what I need to demolish this writer’s block” He smiled and fed the last of his sandwich to his loyal companion. He chuckled as he flipped to the next page of his journal, sketching out some rough plans and ideas. Oh, the things we do for inspiration, he thought.

The End

My abusive relationship with the common comma

Now some of you who have read anything I have written, be it here or on Facebook, twitter, Youtube description and/or comments, will probably have noticed, if you read the way I do anyway, my relationship with the comma. Yes, that little tadpoley character, a full stop with a tail, a dot that dangles, sometimes depicted as simply a line. I, as a writer, and I don't know if this is common, I haven't really noticed it elsewhere, hereby admit to abuse of the comma.

Ok, I'll admit, I may be overdoing it a little in my examples above, only three sentences but a rather grand total of fourteen commas between them, even if I do say so myself. I astound even myself in my addiction to the comma, I can never quite seem to finish a sentence without at least one of our little friends being called upon. I don't know why, I really don't. I think I use it in place of brackets more often than not, though in some of my previous posts here I have noticed an unconscious rise in the number of bracketed phrases. Brackets intrude, they stop the rhythm where commas can maintain the tempo with only a minor beat skipped.

I probably abuse the comma. Our current count is twenty two but I think now I'm too conscious of it, so I'm either cutting back or going over, I can't fully tell. I have to say, without commas, my writing would, in my opinion, be a lot more dull. Recently I've tried to mix it up, throw a semi-colon, the comma's haloed cousin, in there every now and again, though I have a suspicion that I use it wrongly far too often. Why was I never taught this? Dammit Irish education system, what do you have against the semi-colon? Are you punctuation-ist? Or are you, like me, inadvertently bent on using the comma as much as possible, abusing it repeatedly, safe in the knowledge that it will come crawling back for the next time you have need of it?

Little comma, how did we get like this? Our affairs used to mean so much, back in the days where I could barely string cohesive sentences together, never mind compound ones without the use of actual conjunctions. I think it was my father who taught me that, when you need to, you can use a set of commas to put a little note in the middle of a sentence when the sentence could maybe do without. Is he to blame for this relationship that we share? No, I think not. He could not possibly have foreseen the lengths to which I would so in my sentence elongating exploits, no one could have foreseen this monster we would, together, create. This is not a promise of changing my ways, oh no. I honestly think I'm too foregone to go back to the days when a sentence could last for less than twenty words, on average, and contain no commas. No, this is a cautionary tale to all who use the comma as loosely as I, all the writers who feel the need to fit as much between full stops as humanly possibly. Be kind to your comma. Appreciate it, love it because you know that you need it, no matter how much you may protest.

I'm sorry if this was boring to read, I'm in a weird mood, this was another of those aimless posts because I feel the need to put more writing on this bloggy thing. I thought it was funny. Final comma count: 55.

Embrace the Madness

Knowing people I don't know or "How the internet is a confusing place"

Hello person reading this. How're things? Now, to clarify, I don't know you. I have no way of knowing you, except perhaps if you were to comment on this, but even then, I would merely be granted a pinhole view into your psyche (other that the fact that you read this blog, which is incredibly worrying, by the way, see a doctor immediately). However, you probably feel that you know me, to a point. You know some of my opinions because I put them here (though they're sparse, I'm a bad blogger). You may even feel that you could guess some of the things I like and dislike, foods, movies and all that jazz, or predict what I would do in certain situations, purely from the impression you get of me through my writing. But again, I don't know you. This is an odd concept to me as I am so much more often the viewer, the one making judgments and predictions based on what people share with the internet. 

As a person, and I think I may have mentioned this in the past, I have this tendency of overanalysing things, making wild assumptions based on what I know (Holmes style, bitches). I think this probably formed from my lack of close friends for long portions of my life as well as my love for reading and writing. I tend to thing of people as characters in the story of my life (not an unhealthy thing, I reckon, as long as I keep it more or less quiet in public) and so I make a habit of trying to know these characters and what they will do, regardless of exactly how much I actually know them. For instance, there are various different people in my group of friends at school who I've analysed the hell out of, down to how they became they way they are now. I have only known these people for about two years. However i know that so and so is how she is partly because of her parents' relationship, partly because she idolises her brother and partly because she is given too much freedom. So and so lives mostly vicariously and so she has issues with some real life situations and ends up a passive onlooker. So and so's relationship with so and so fell apart because of x, y and z. It's a bad habit but useful, as I often find myself knowing people better than they think I do. I haven't used it to my own personal gain much but I think I could (insert evil laugh here). My gaydar is outstanding, but I don't broadcast my estimations. 

Anyway, back to the internet. Because of the way I analyse people and situations, I have problems regarding attachments with people on the internet. Now, I generally feel I know internet people better than people in real life, mostly because there's so much more information. Anyone with a good blog, I know you, anyone with a Youtube channel, I know you, twitterers, I know you. And it's confusing as hell because I have no way of using this knowledge. Not for nefarious means or otherwise (half hearted evil laugh with questioning tone), I have unconsciously used energy in knowing people I will never meet and who have no idea who I am.  And it doesn't stop, if the person puts up a new video or blog (and it's interesting) I will read the hell out of it because I want to know them even better. It's not like a stalker thing, it's just what my mind does. It's really quite frustrating and I know I'm not alone in this. As a sidenote, internet personalities are different to actors and the like because, though they might play a character projection of themselves, they are not really masking themselves, actors are meant to. I have an odd problem with trusting actors, not so with internet strangers. 

I don't really know what this particular post was meant to say as a whole, therefore I have no conclusion so I'ma just flim-flam around until I run out of words (ha, as if I would). The internet is a really big place, bigger than our little tribally programmed brains can even begin to comprehend. It is oddly painful but also exhilarating to get to know someone who you have never met, finding that you have a surprising amount in common is even stranger. Remember, when you're one in a million there're about a thousand other people exactly like you. But individuality is another topic altogether, which, knowing me (and believe me, I do) I will address at some point. sorry if this was more serious than expected.

Embrace the Madness

Falling off the blogosphere

Hello. This is my return to blogging. Now some of you (I have absolutely no clue why this theoretical second person plural is, considering how long it's been, I very much doubt that there is anyone left with any interest in what I put here but Ima continue like this for the purpose of I want to and it's easier. Just a sidenote) will be wondering why I have not blogged for around a year (the timescale of this has become meaningless at this point). Most of you, theoretical audience, will not and, if you are still reading, probably want this to get interesting, soon, or you will leave to go look up cat videos or fails. 

I could come up with a squillion (it's a number if I say so, I know maths) things that I was supposedly doing during this year of not blogging but before I go into that (because you know I will, oooooh yes) I will give you the straight answer. Three words, amigos: I AM LAZY (optional "as fuck" if deemed necessary, with free Monty Python, "one, two, five-" "three sir?" joke included, though technically it's inverted in this case). This year I entered the fifth level of hell (or in layman's terms, "secondary school") that is fifth year (I think it's junior year for los americanos and English people, I really don't know, I should but I don't). The work load is piled on from the second month (for the entirety of the first I convinced myself that I "couldn't" study because I hadn't "properly" started the Leaving Certificate course) and I, being me, promptly ignored it. All of it. 

"Winging it" and writing things last minute is pretty much my speciality at this point, right there next to coming up with half assed excuses and avoiding responsibility by not going for anything remotely leadership related (except when it's a team building exercise and I'm the only person with a brain). This is my life. So, while I do enjoy greatly sharing my silly and pretentiously profound opinions and thoughts on this teeny little sliver of internet, I have been busy ignoring the work I should be doing but feeling somewhat bad about it, enough that I can 't do anything else either. I has been a year of general uncreative lethargy, though towards the end of it (and therefore exams) I did get a surge of "productive procrastination" where my state of work paralysis is lifted and I can do things again... so I do all the things I want to do slightly more than work. I wrote a play. A one act play, mind you, but an entire freaking play nonetheless, in my attempts to avoid study and anything resembling actual work. It's been a decent year. Just not great for blogging.

Other reasons (aside from the creative made up ones, which I will get to) for not blogging include my perfectionism when it comes to how people see my writing (or how I perceive them seeing my writing- woah, trippy) and so whenever I had an idea for something to blog about, I would start writing it then convince myself that it's not good enough for people to use as a sample of my skills and so I would leave it. Repeat for a year. There's also the fact that I got a boyfriend this year. Now that's an interesting story. But I'm not gonna tell that now, teehee.

Sooooo, yeah. Basically, I'm lazy and I have an elevated sense of my own importance and prowess therefore I can't deal with m own sub-par writing even when it's not that bad. Now for the made up things I was doing during this year:

1. I went on a trip across the world to find my true parents, found that they are in fact evil and trying to destroy the internet, so I had to kill them. The emotional pain and yadda yadda yadda forced me into a state of year long brooding and general angstiness "you-wouldn't-understand-man" stuff so I simply couldn't blog.

2. I was kidnapped by a band of travelling monkey robots who took my brain and placed in a monkey robot body, erasing all memory of my human existence. I spent the year slowly regaining my memories through a series of glitches in the system and wild coincidences, only to finally take my bloody (or oily?) revenge on the beings who had done this to me.

3. I decided to become a koala hermit, that is live my life as a koala for a year (or as similarly to that of a koala) by sleeping for 22 hours a day and spending my waking hours climbing trees, eating eucalyptus and getting high as balls on it and having sex. Koalas are epic, do not question. They have four thumbs. FOUR! (also, Eddie Izzard voiced one in that one Disney movie no-one's heard of, "The Wild" and he was and is so incredibly awesome it is impossible not to love the vessel he used.)

4. I was working for the government on a top secret.-.vS:Ljc\silfjsd589745623477fbcmxnzbvkjdfhznv

zcb,x.vkfkgngssehsksnsz.,dx cm/\z.xmckrlgjsoa,//A|xklajxc :mgkhnlivjxvlk'wpsAZ;'\Z0q93e-iqpfjzlkm

YOU HEARD NOTHING. MOVE ALONG.

5. I do not actually exist, I am a figment of your imagination. You must ask yourself what psychological event in your own life stopped me from apparently blogging, because only then will you know truly what it is your life means

Embrace the Madness