Whatta Fiasco

Simplistic and self-absorbed. The animation is clumsy and the premise of the film in casually invalidated almost as soon as the story gets started. Company creates new life by betraying one of their top researchers. They steal her soul and implant it into the new being. Naked girl-bot escapes, experiences nature, is recaptured but damaged beyond repair in the process. But, lo, her soul is freed to wreak revenge on the entire city and seek a happy reunion with the soul of her dead daughter. Promotional materials describe this as an electronic opera, but the music is insipid ambient pop ruined by vocals I can only charitably characterize as microtonal. But it’s short (under 40 minutes) and it incorporates some stunning imagery among some real clunkers. Turn the subtitles off, hit the mute button, and supply your own soundtrack. Or just watch Ghost in the Shell: Innocence if you want to see a good movie that successfully handles some of the same themes.

My campaign to bring lunch to work just got a little more fun. Yesterday my new bento box arrived in the mail from JBox, padded out with some Japanese newspaper. (Of course I checked out the bits of newspaper before I finished unwrapping the actual item. Sumo pictures!) Yes, it’s a My Neighbor Totoro bento box, complete with horsetail ferns and dust sprites. Its very cute but also functional. It holds just enough, and the little dividers encourage me to pack a variety of items instead of my usual dump one item into a plastic container approach. Now (but of course!) I want some useful bento accessories like sauce bottles, plastic-coated paper cups, and butter tins. Plus I’ll be wanting an onigiri mold, and maybe some mini cookie cutters to use on vegetables. And a craft punch or two to make some nori cutouts.

Now I just need to figure out why my camera has started taking fuzzy pictures.

After watching and enjoying the Peter Brook version of Hamlet I went looking for more, and this is what I found. The full title of the work The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum at Charenton Under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade is nearly as unwieldy as the production but is an accurate enough description. I do not recommend this as a film to see at eight-thirty on a Sunday morning, and I may have to try it one more time for full effect. The importance of the production shines through (even though it’s clear the original play has been drastically tamed down for film) but it was difficult for me to maintain my focus. The doggerel verse. The very Broadway musical chorus pieces. All those tired old cliches circling around who the crazy people really are. But then you have these wonderful performances, particularly Glenda Jackson. (Hilary Swank, eat your heart out. Did Glenda Jackson ever do a pants role on film?) Then there’s the revolutionary clown chorus that makes it difficult to not draw lines between this film and Rocky Horror Picture Show, but there’s plenty enough to deal with on the screen already without going there. I would love to love this film, but I don’t know how long it will be before I can attempt it again. And I now understand why Peter Brook is not universally admired.

What a lovely rococo mess of a story. If you’ve read Delany’s Neveryona novels, you might find some parallels here, including a shiftiness in time and setting that follows a not dissimilar arc. There’s a city that plays a central role and the words tumble down the page in an avalanche. But where Delany gifts us with light-filled jewels, Harrison presents and offering encrusted and contorted, by turns dusty and dazzling that won’t stand still. It’s a very chewy set of stories. I like chewy, but I came very close to giving up on this one half way through the second story when chewy became positively granular. I’m glad I persevered.

If you’re intrigued enough to try it, here are some words to get you started: mazarine, litharge, and gamboge. Each of these words occurs at least three times over the course of this book, and each refers to a color. And yes, there is a strong bent toward the chemical / mineral side of things. It is intentional.

Now to figure out what my next foray into his works will be.

Fencing is going fairly well, although I’ve been having a little more knee pain lately. At first I thought it was just a post-tournament flare-up, but it’s continued too long for that. I’m back to the ibuprofen again for a little while. The first few practices after the tournament were my usual everything falls apart before it gets better routine. Then my actions started tightening up and I was executing lots of planned actions. But last night I walked into the salle feeling old and creaky. The knees, the ankles, the feet. And even when I got things together to set something up, most of the time my tip would be out of place or my distance would be off. It was one of those nights here I had about three decent touches all night. Just to make it more interesting, it’s being a very warm spring but they haven’t turned on the air conditioning at the school yet. An extra five to ten degrees of heat will suck all the energy right out of me.

At the end of the evening a couple of us ended up in what looked like an impromptu session covering some old-style transfers. I never did quite get them down, but I got close enough to tell what it was supposed to feel like. And while the old stuff is interesting and fun, the real point of the lesson (it slowly dawned on my thick head) was that these moves absolutely will not work if you bend your wrist. The strength of the move comes from the elbow and shoulder. If you break the wrist, you lose opposition and your opponent can disengage and hit you. So my personal mission for Wednesday night’s practice is to keep the wrist firm and rely on the fingers to move the tip.

It’s also the time of year when I have to figure out the last of the tournaments I’ll be attending before Summer Nationals. There’s a team event in Iowa at the end of this month that I was seriously considering, but the folks I as considering teaming up with aren’t able to go, and that’s probably just as well. The following week is both the Minnesota Open and a local D and Under tournament. I was originally planning on going to Minnesota, but they went and scheduled the women’s epee on Saturday and the mixed epee on Sunday. And both are early morning events, meaning I’d have to make the eight hour drive on Friday night after work, stay at least two nights in a hotel, and then drive back. Or I can stay in ton and fence a mixed event on Sunday morning. I like the Minnesota folks a lot and I enjoy the competition of the Heartland Circuit, but I think I’m going to stay home this year.

Is it good? Oh yes. Is it better than the movie? That’s a tougher call. Quibble all you like about the changes made in adapting it for the screen. I still think most of the changes made for a better movie. And yet, there were still enough flaws in the film that I have to give the nod to the book. And don’t worry that having seen the movie will ruin the book experience for you. It won’t.

Another fun encounter with Harry Dresden. If you liked the others, you’ll like this one too. Quite satisfactory.

Good bye, Grandpa. I miss you.

The Kansas City Open was this weekend. It was a good weekend for lots of people, including several folks who had their first tournament. I fenced both the women’s and mixed epee events. More details later, but I had I lovely day of fencing, topped off by winning my first direct elimination bout in four years of fencing. Much rejoicing and a big load off my mind.
I am no longer a fencer who can’t win a DE. Not that I ever was that person, but still. Much relief. Consequently, I wasn’t focusing quite as intently on the men’s event. I just relaxed and had fun, except that I wasn’t going to let my young team mate beat me. (Sorry, H.) I didn’t win a second DE for the day, but hen I was down 2-8 I managed to score seven touches in a row against my opponent before succumbing. Afterward he as concerned that he might have hit me too hard. Ha. I did my best to reassure him. If positions had been reversed, I wouldn’t have held anything back either.

We also had several folks for whom this was either their first tournament ever, or (in one case) their first tournament in more than thirty years. Happily, every single one of those new fencers had a good experience and I expect to see them back for more.

It was, in short, a very good day of fencing. Aside from one prodigiously odoriferous bout of flatulence inflicted upon several strips worth of epee mid afternoon. Jiminy.

Women’s Epee
Pools:
Forrester 3-5
Roth 5-4
Ream 3-5
Franz 3-5

DEs:
Roth: 15-13
Ream: 6-15

I finished 8 of 9

Men’s Epee
Pools:
Fleming H. 5-4
Stolte 4-5
McCall 0-5
Smith, E. 4-5
Bonner 0-5
Jauer 3-5

DE:
Knutson, Jim: 9-15
I finished 36 out of 40

My grandfather is approaching the end of his life, and the work now is to make it as comfortable as possible. On Monday they did a CAT scan and found several lesions in his brain, one of which had bled and caused the symptoms that sent him to the hospital. A follow up full-body scan revealed many more tumors throughout his body. Yesterday they took off most of the tubing and monitoring equipment and he was looking more comfortable. If you disturb him enough, he’ll open his eyes and mumble something, but mostly he seems to be sleeping. Last night they moved him out of CCU to a quieter oncology ward. I am worried that things will get worse again before the end, particularly as my grandfather doesn’t react well to most anesthetics, but he has a lot of family looking out for him, doing everything they can.