Where pop culture meets geek culture and they make out a little.
Random Normality
When so much has happened, and so much time has passed, where does one begin?
Jul 8th
There has been so much frustration in my life these past few months. Frustration and, oddly enough, a fair amount of enjoyment as well. And then, completely out of the blue, today my family’s life changed dramatically. It is an odd sensation, to sit here and think that just a week ago I felt one way about my life while today, I feel almost completely different.
I don’t want to alarm anyone, though I doubt there is anyone reading this, so I’ll just say this change has been decidedly for the good. Right now, though, I’m just not ready to say anything more.
kilian
The Battle is Lost…the War Continues
Mar 2nd
Early excitement about the perceived usefulness of my phone in allowing me to post more often has been tinged with some frustration.
Long has it been established that some sort of visual stimuli accompany the textual variety. My assumption that adding images through the phone would work just as well as adding the text has been proven wrong most heinously as evidenced by the previous post’s severe lack of anything resembling an image.
More importantly, this turn of events dampers the high hopes I had for the aforementioned new areas of online inquiry.
Typographical Errors Commence
Feb 28th
This marks the first in a new era for me and digital style publication. I’ve had an iPhone for awhile now…necessitated by my venturing into the realm of online, university-style instruction. This is the first post, however, that has been written on my phone.
Of course, this the third attempt at getting it to actually post. That, coupled with the strange alchemy that is predictive text, has made this post very annoying to complete.
I do have some ideas percolating for new directions in online time wasting…
Lost and Found
Feb 2nd
I can’t even remember the last time I posted here. The standard reasons I have offered in the past can be brought out and beaten (though they are long since dead), yet again: kids, teaching, bookmines, exhaustion.
It remains to be seen how frequent…if at all, updates will come, though my intentions are pure in this regard.
It is also quite likely that none of our other contributors will be back, though at least a couple have claimed a willingness to try…or at least to try to try…
That being the case we’ve (and by that I mean, I) have ditched the weekly update format in lieu of the tried and true “update whenever the fuck you can” method which, honestly, I like better. So if you’re subscribed to the site through a feed you’ll get an update when we update…if not, you can always randomly check in, I guess.
Since there won’t be “themes” there seemed no reason to keep this space devoted to “This Week in Normality” so I’ve renamed it (for now) as “Random Normality.” Although, as I type this it occurs to me that I have to manually update the header somewhere in one of the stylesheets and I’ll be damned if I remember where the fuck that is. As always, I produce the most professional of websites.
I will see (in the internetz way, that is) you all soon.
kilian
This Week in Normality — Parents and Children
Nov 18th
The original, defacto, theme was “Father’s and Son’s” for reasons I won’t go into now. Suffice it to say, I felt a more inclusive theme was fitting.
For the last week or so I’ve been picking my way through Manhood for Amateurs (Michael Chabon’s first work of non-fiction). Even though the HarperCollins website claims that the essays are “slyly interlinked” I’ve always enjoyed reading collected essays out of order. Perhaps I’m borderline ADD, but I’ve always held to the belief that reading such a work out of order leads me to discoveries I would have missed had my path been more linear.
Just today I stumbled across what will undoubtedly be my favorite passage from the entire book:
This may be the fundamental truth of parenthood: No matter how enlightened or well prepared you are by theory, principle, and the imperative not to repeat the mistakes of your own parents, you are no better a father or mother than the set of your own limitations permits you to be. And that set is your heritage, the pinched and helpless legacy of all the limited mothers and fathers whose fumblings, evasions, and shortcomings led, by some dubious accidental magic, to the production of you.”
It comes from an essay in which Chabon witnesses, in a real world exchange, the actualization of his eldest daughter’s burgeoning sexuality, and then must come to terms with his subsequent knee jerk reaction, even against the logical, objective view he holds of “sexuality” in his own mind.
It is cliched, or course, for a father to want to, as Chabon puts it, hit some boys in the face with “a mallet” for simply staring at his daughter. And while my own daughter isn’t even in kindergarten, I have a deepening sense that my own experience will turn out very much like Chabon’s.
Another cliche, though, is in telling someone “unless you have kids, you don’t understand.” More than once, someone has said to me “I can’t believe you have a kid” or, more recently, “I can’t believe you have two kids.” I’ve also been asked “what is it like to be a parent?” Or, “what advice can you give me for when I have kids?” My responses to questions like this are usually along the lines of…
- Weird, huh
- Yeah,
- (Shrug)
- Don’t forget your baby in the car when you go to the store.
In case you couldn’t tell, I have very little of use to say in regards to what it is like being a parent or what is required to be a “good” parent. When it comes to all things parent, “unless you have kids, you wouldn’t understand” which also means, if you already have kids, you don’t need it explained. Sort of a catch 22, really, but it is true.
One thing can convey, something I’ve slowly come to realize over the last 3 1/2 years (and has been reinforced in last year that I’ve had two kids) is that parents are just making it up as they go along. I might not know, precisely, what a good parent should do, but I can fake it well enough to fool a couple of toddlers. The other day my daughter asked mommy for something, mommy replied that said “thing” was broken and that daddy would have to fix it when they got home. My daughter, I’m told, said “daddy can fix anything.” That statement is heartbreaking for two reasons:
- It shows how much unconditional love she has for me
- It also betrays the fact that, someday (much too soon), my daughter will come to find out that, in fact, I’ve faked my way through parenthood
I’m not saying that I feel as if I’m a terrible father. While I can’t say for certain, my guess is most people who make an honest attempt at raising their children (read: don’t want their children to have the same fucking problems as themselves) are really just trying to find their way through a dark hallway without a flashlight. On some level, what counts most is the effort. At the end of the day, I will inevitably fuck up my kids in ways I had never intended, or could have foreseen, but hopefully they understand that I tried my best.
Until then, though, I get to read stories to my kids every night before they go to bed.
Finally, for your edification this time around, D. Composition brings us the Top 10 Most Awesome Parents in Film…enjoy.
This Week in Normality (Short Edition) — Heroism
Nov 12th
This week’s (shortened) theme was inspired by the following story:
Driving home from Yankee Stadium last night, drunk with power (and champagne!), Girardi stopped to help an accident victim, even though each World Series winner is specifically granted the right to run over one pedestrian, no questions asked.
So here’s what happened. The Yankees, you may or may not have heard, recently won the world series. Joe Girardi is the manager of said Yankees, on his way home from the stadium (after the actual winning of the world series), Girardi drove past a car that had wrecked on the side of the road. He pulled over (keep in mind, this is at 2 in the morning after attaining of the the biggest accomplishments in all of sports) to help the victim.
I’m not sure Deadspin got that last part, about running over a pedestrian, correct but what I can tell you is that, were I someone who had just managed a major league team to a world series victory, I doubt I would have stopped to help an accident victim just hours after my triumph. Likely, I would have laughed at the victim for not being as awesome as me.
My self-serving nature notwithstanding, I thought it would be a nice change of pace to at least offer this small bit of karmic goodness to the universe.
Surprisingly…or not surprisingly…the “submissions” from the other NR staff for this particular theme were particularly lean. So lean, in fact, that we have all of one…even after I allowed for an extended time in which submissions could be, er, submitted.
I don’t know if that speaks poorly about the NR staff, in that we could find almost nothing worth writing about when told to write about Heroism…or if that is a reflection of the greater world, and its lack of heroism. Perhaps it is simply a matter of the topic being too serious minded for us. Or, more likely, everyone (save one contributor) has chosen to abandon me to face the grueling mistress of (quasi)weekly interwebz puclication on my own.
Is not, I ask you, soldiering forth, in the face of overwhelming evidence that you should give up, not heroic in and of itself?
Am I just trying to make myself feel better?
Probably.
This Week in Normality — Things Change, Things Remain the Same…
Nov 3rd
Greetings Faithful Normalinauts,
Consider this week an unofficial/official/unofficial again reboot…sort of. Some time ago we (read: I) decided to start posting content at the beginning of the week to afford the weekend time to write stuff and, theoretically, allow for us (read: me) to write more for the site. Most of my weekday hours are devoted to bookmines duty, teaching, grading, bathing and feeding the kids, etc. After all that, I don’t have the time and/or energy to write anything else. As it is, I’m lucky to get more than 3 hours of sleep a night during the week.
So what the hell does this have to do with this?
This week’s theme, “Things Change, Things Remain the Same…,” is a fairly esoteric one and can be molded to fit any topic, I think, but is particularly appropriate when considering the history of this site. By that I mean, we’ve always gone through stretches of relative silence and stretches of frenzied activity. No doubt this state of affairs will continue until I win the lottery or in some other way become independently wealthy. So while we’ve undergone a lot of changes in the last six months, as always, we remain Normality Restored.
There are some more changes up ahead, not the least of which will involve a lot of begging on my part…but more on that later… Regardless of the changes, or the down time, I want to assure the few of you that have been consistent visitors to this site that it remains a priority for me…even if the kids and jobs must take precedence at times. I ask all Normalinauts out there in cyberspace not to lose hope, for as long as I have breath in my lungs (and the ability to pay the hosting fees) you will always have this little corner of the interwebz to call your own.
Now, I’d like to say that the above impassioned plea/apology/rant was the actual inspiration for this week’s theme, but it was not. In fact, this theme came to me as I pondered, some months ago, the release of The Gathering Storm, the most recent release in The Wheel of Time series that has now been taken over by Brandon Sanderson.
I would go into it in more detail here but that’s actually the focus of one of my articles.
D. Composition illuminates for us a re-discovery from our collective childhoods and a story from his past that was particularly special to him.
Lastly, I consider what it means to re-imagine both a foundation of fantasy literature as we know it…and the most popular contemporary fantasy story…all in the same book.
This Week In Normality – Zombies VS. Vampires
Oct 16th
I suppose it’s a matter of preference when you ask which is better: the Zombie or the Vampire. Both have origins in superstitions and folklore, and both have seen their respective mythologies evolve with the needs of storytellers. The original zombie stories originated in Vodou stories, where witch doctors or priests known as bokors would revive and control the dead. Some of the old vampiric folktales involve bloated corpses visiting their old neighborhoods. Zombies now eat flesh, or brains, or what else? And Vampires dress in leather and vinyl and drink blood?
But who would win in an all out battle between the two? Many would say the Vampire. This makes sense. They have sentience and therefore may understand themselves, thus possessing the ability to influence their enviroment. Zombies as they stand now, well, they are rather one track-minded, aren’t they? Brains, or flesh. The movie “Interview With The Vampire” utilizes conversation for its frame story. Ever sat and listened to a zombie in a movie reflect about themselves? Or sunsets?
Sentience makes the monster. The only zombies that I’ve come across that retain their intelligence are the Marvel Zombies, with guilt-ridden Peter Parker carrying even more angst now that he’s eaten his aunt and wife. Will other storytellers take a note from this cue and explore the possibilities of sentient flesh eaters? I’d like to think so.
In the meantime, who would win between the mindless zombies and the sentient vampires? There are factors to consider here. First, is the battle being decided on who wins supremacy over the food supply? (yes, that’s us folks, being thrown under the bus by yours truly) In a practical perspective, this should be the only battle worth fighting. Which leads me the next scenario: who would win in a world with either an exhausted food supply? (yup, we’re not there anymore, folks)
Zombies, let’s face it, you are the underdog. Your lack of self-awareness and your inability to communicate with one another and thus cooperate in a sustained group effort might be sending you the way of extinction as the Vampires coordinate your demise. Of course, whether or not vampires are successful is irrelevant, as they’ll be starving. See, your bad meat with very contaminated blood, dear zombie. I suppose both of you will lose in the end, since eventually there won’t be any food for either one of you. Yet, therein lies your victory, zombie. Your lack of intelligence will make you unaware of this, while the vampire will get to reflect on every last spasm of hunger pains in their bodies.
For those who have seen Zombieland, which rule was it that said you should always enjoy the little things?
With that, Killian offers us a series of confessions which I guarantee you, folks, I will personally ensure he does not forget the error of admitting this to anyone.
D. Composition meditates on both the vampire and the zombie in pop culture.
And while I might have something else to add later on, I now turn the discussion over to you, the Normalinauts. I’ve briefly explored one Zombie VS. Vampire scenario, but I say let’s open this up for discussion. As a matter of fact, I say let’s have a contest.
This Week in Normality — First Loves
Sep 11th
This is a topic that we’ve touched on, in some way, with other themes but we (read: I) was hard up for a theme and so, in the proverbial late stages of the game, Mustardseed did throw out an idea which read thusly:
Theme Idea for this week: First Loves
I’m thinking something like that first comic or piece of music or whatever that just made you feel something you never forgot. Make sense?
To which I responded…
Hey that sounds good…
Everyone, read Mustardseed’s suggestion below and write like the wind!
I actually did think of one, but I’ll add it in for a later date.
And here we are…isn’t it exciting to look behind the “curtain” and see how the magic works…don’t answer that.
It also occurred to me that I used my best “first love” story last week for Back to School but that’s alright, I will recover.
And, actually, since I have already used that (damn moving, if I do say so myself) story about my wife and I in high school, I realize that this theme does, actually, afford me the opportunity to write about something I’ve been trying to shoe horn in here for several weeks now.
All faithful Normalinauts know that Gilgrim and I are fans of the beautiful sport, also known as football. Not the American version here in the states (well, Gilgrim is a fan of that kind of football, but no one is perfect), but proper football. As it happens, I grew up in a house (and extended family) whose sole sports passion resided in baseball generally, and the Los Angeles Dodgers, specifically. I doubt there ever has, or ever will, be a bigger Dodger fan than my grandmother who, literally less than two days before she died, in intensive care and unable speak, communicated to me that the Dodgers had lost a game and she was upset about how weak the bullpen looked late in the season (that is one of the great memories of my grandmother, in fact). I’m fairly certain, in fact, that in any detailed study of my DNA one would find a “Dodger gene.” We recently took our newest round of family pictures and all four us, wife, three year old daughter, 8 month old son and myself were all wearing Dodger shirts.
But much like you can’t choose your family, my passion for the Dodgers is ingrained. My love of football, however, was something that I fell into.
Jezmon can attest to the fact that, in the early years of grade school, I spent nearly every possible moment playing football (Jezmon and I, by the way, went to kindergarten together…Mrs. Steven’s afternoon class represent!). I’m not exactly sure what it was about playing soccer that was so addicting but it probably had something to do with the constant running the sport affords and the fact that until I got to the first grade I had never even heard the term “soccer.” It had an almost mystical feel to it…you mean, there’s a sport where you don’t use your hands?! To a six year old who could rattle off the Dodgers entire 25 man roster and the batting averages of every starting position player, an introduction into a different sport, one that tons of kids at school were playing all the time (thanks to AYSO), was the first time I was exposed to a bigger world outside my own house. And it was a world that called to me and I desperately wanted to be a part of.
Remember how I said I’ve wanted to bring this topic up for a while? You will, no doubt, notice I forgo no opportunity to disparage American football and so, in this particular instance, I will bow to the greater wisdom of John Cleese in helping to explain my one reason for my inordinate love of football…and, as and added bonus, my dislike of American football.
That clip comes from a documentary that Cleese did called The Art of Football (or, stupidly, the Art of Soccer in this country) which I highly recommend if you’re a football fan, or even remotely interested in the game at all.
Now you can find, in any sport, moments or games that defy explanation. For my money, however, there is no other sport that can match football in the possibility to demonstrate the unexpected. In part, I think, it’s the nature of continued play that Cleese mentions in the above clip. When you stop play as little as possible (unlike all three major sports in this country) the ability of the players to change a game at a moments notice is really hindered.
Also, and this is true hands down, no sport can match football for pure passion from both players and fans. If you’ve never experienced a true soccer match in person (and I’m not talking MLS here) then you’ve never experienced sport at its most emotional.
As a demonstration of both these properties, I’m going to show you a five minute clip from the 2005 European Champions League final. The Champions League is a competition in which all the top clubs of Europe compete for a chance to be crowned best club in Europe. The 2005 final pitted my (underdog) Liverpool squad against (heavily favored) AC Milan and has come to be considered the greatest comeback in Champions League history (and one of the greatest in the history of football).
But, of course, football isn’t the only thing we care about around here, and so in this installment of Normality Restored…
Oedipa movingly considers her first loves, musically and emotionally, and the interplay of both.
Stoker reveals the first comic he ever truly “geeked out” over.
And, eventually, Mustardseed will be posting some article about something or other…I guess, we’ll have to see. But, you know, Cubans….
This Week in Normality — Back to School
Sep 6th
If my life pans out in the way that I hope, September will forever mean “back to school.”
Brief aside…I’m available for any tenure track, English faculty positions anyone has available and I am willing to move…anywhere.
But, of course, I’m not the only one around the ol’ NR that has to deal with the beginning of the school year as a specific time to dread and/or anticipate, so why not dedicate an entire week to this wondrous time of year?
I couldn’t come up with an answer to that question so, here we are.
And even for those who have left school, never to have another run in with that fine institution known as education, early September no doubt always reminds one of those formative years. Who doesn’t remember that first day back after a long summer? Seeing those kids for the first time in months, meeting your new teacher, hoping your new school clothes (which your mother picked out) wouldn’t earn the collective scorn of the schoolyard.
If I can be allowed to reminisce for a moment, I will share with you the most important of my back to school memories. During my junior year in high school I had taken Algebra 2 Honors; sixth period, Mrs. Yates. I spent a majority of the class annoying poor Mrs. Yates. When the year began I was sitting in the back of the class. About five weeks into the course Mrs. Yates moved me to the desk nearest hers in an attempt to keep me from talking during class. She moved me back a week later. I would start conversations with everyone who sat near me, basically, because I was bored out of mind every second I sat in that class.
Actually, there was one person with whom I wouldn’t engage in conversation.
Have you ever met someone who, literally, took your breath away?
Or, more specifically, have you ever been sitting in the first day of of Algebra 2 Honors and, as the teacher is making everyone in the class “introduce” themselves, a certain female says her name and you stop breathing for several seconds?
See, that’s what happened to me.
Early in the year this particular female spoke to me once or twice, and each time I nearly dropped unconscious. As the year went on, it slowly became easier to actually have her attention focused on me, due in no small part to the fact that a friend of mine would often act as a sort of intermediary. I wasn’t really calm in such situations, but I could at least manage to utter words that were more than unintelligible grunting. There were a few times, in fact, where she gave me a ride home from school. At the end of each 12 minute car ride I was doing my best to hide the massive amount of sweat that had formed on my body.
During the summer between my Junior and Senior years I unexpectedly ran into this female while at the mall. My friend and I had a conversation with her that lasted all of two minutes. As we were walking away my friend commented that my hands had been shaking.
As my senior year approached my life was at a low point. I had moved into a friend’s house where I was renting a room. I worked, six nights a week, a really shit job that routinely had me getting off around 1 in the morning. I couldn’t afford a car and I was so excited to find out that the bus would be picking me up at 6 in the morning, meaning that once school started I would be lucky to get 4 hours of sleep. My pay was $4.15 an hour and since I was no longer living under my parent’s roof, I was often short of money for little things like food.
I was still planning on going to college, so I had two AP classes (Government and Physics) along with senior English, Spanish 3, Advanced Photography and a period where I was, essentially, the TA for Photo 1. Given my need to work, and the fact that I didn’t have the means to find another job (no car, remember) I wasn’t sure when I would be able to actually do, you know, homework. Needless to say, I wasn’t exactly excited about the first day of my senior year.
But I got my ass out of bed at 5:30 am nonetheless, sat on the bus for an hour, and groggily made my way to first period (English). Second period was Spanish 3 and as I made it to Mr. Hathaway’s class I duly sat in the back (best place to sleep, of course). Just before the bell rang, that particular female stepped into the class room and sat down at the front of the class.
Given my love of sleep, I had been seriously considering dropping Spanish 3 and signing up for late arrival. I could always switch to a later period for English and I figured that if I didn’t have to be at school until 9 I could always wake up in enough time to walk. Of course, as soon as she walked into that class I threw out any thought of changing my schedule.
Long story short…she’s sitting next to me as I type this in bed.
For the rest of this edition…
Mustardseed considers a novel approach to keep the stress of academia from overwhelming the enterprising student.
Tengu reviews the MSI Wind U120 netbook for all you students looking for something with which to write papers.
Jezmon presents a list of documentaries for your consideration.
D. Composition helps us all in our attempts to find internet music.
Stoker considers what the future will hold now that Disney has purchased Marvel…not exactly “on topic” but important nonetheless.
This Week in Normality (Saturday Edition) — Bring the Pain
Aug 29th
Good day to you, faithful reader, on this last Saturday in August, in the year of our lord two thousand and nine.
I won’t go into all the horrid details about my Friday…the first day of the fall semester for me, in fact, and how everything that could possibly conspire against me posting this week’s articles did, in fact, conspire against me. I mean, I guess a comet didn’t crash into my car and I didn’t lose a limb in a lumber mill accident…but aside from those two things, everything that could conspire against me did. Suffice it to say, by the time I got home last night and had the kids fed and asleep I had just enough energy to stumble into bed.
So here we are…
But aren’t you glad you had to wait?
Isn’t the anticipation of what this week’s Normality Restored would bring you even better now that you have had to marshal the reserve to wait a full day more?
Just go with me on this.
And, you know what? It’s fitting, having to make you all wait so long. The waiting, no doubt, pained you faithful Normalinauts endlessly. I imagine you all suffered from severe cramps and headaches all night, unable to sleep, wondering when…dear god when!…you would find the weekly succor you so crave on Fridays.
It was, of course, cruel of us to have unleashed such wanting on our adoring fans. But such is the fate of the faithful on this week in which we Bring the Pain!
And this week’s theme was inspired by the newly released Tarantino film Inglorious Basterds, of which Stoker has written a…dare I say, glowing?…I dare…GLOWING review.
Tengu takes us back to his childhood to reminisce fondly, and not so fondly, about the work of filmmaker Paul Verhoeven.
Mustardseed, in his continuing attempts to prove he is the most literary of NR contributors, highlights Blood Meridian, the oft overlooked debut novel from now Pulitzer Prize winner, Cormac McCarthy.
What I have learned about, if not people at large, at least those associated with this website is that you tell them the theme is blood and violence, then they come out of the woodwork.
Stoker, for instance, was not content to just review a movie, oh no! He also felt compelled to give us all a taste of the, definitely not for the squeamish, Bendis graphic novel Torso.
And lastly, though certainly not least, a new guest contributor shares with us all both, the joy of Peter Jackson’s early work, and the savory taste of gore in general.
This Week In Normality — Train Wrecks!
Aug 21st
Is this how they envisioned their lives?
This week’s theme was inspired by a…let’s say sad…state of affairs. No doubt you are all familiar with the TLC show Jon and Kate Plus 8. In recent months the visibility of the show has increased exponentially, as stories of infidelity are fodder for the media. It occurred to me not too long ago, however, just what a depressing story the whole thing makes.
My wife and I actually watched the original special (Surviving Sextuplets and Twins) that Jon and Kate (and their kids) were on and have watched the show since somewhere near the end of season one. So, for us, it was pretty disheartening to see how everything has turned out for the Gosselin family in recent months. I imagine that the decision to do the show, originally, was a financial one. Raising eight very young kids on one income seems…what’s more difficult than impossible?. So I’m sure that Jon and Kate saw the show as a way of providing, not only for their kid’s present, but also for their futures.
Fame and money, as they have a tendency to do, no doubt changed both Jon and Kate. I’m not going to assign blame or call out either of them for percieved character flaws. I only know them insofar as the camera portrayed them and that has to be a false portrayal.
But the situation is extremely depressing because of the children. Not only are the kid’s parents now headed for divorce, but their seperation has been heavily documented by the media. Even if the kids had wanted to ignore certain facts about their parents’ behavior, they will no doubt have it shoved in their faces for decades to come.
And the children (particularly the sextuplets) are the ones that we (the viewing audience) might actually know well. Having been so young when the show started they had not yet developed the awesome adult ability to “pretend to be somone you’re not.”
So that’s depressing.
But what I want to focus on here is the absolute train wreck that has become the parents.
Look, when someone embarks on a career in film acting or music, that person makes an understood contract with the public that, given ridiculous amounts of money and fame, that person inevitably gives up a large amount of privacy. Like it or not (I’m not defending or condoning) that’s the way celebrity works. And, more or less, actors and rock stars know this and accept it.
How useless are you when you appear in Playboy and aren't nude?
Back to my point about why Jon and Kate first did the show, though, I doubt either of them thought it would make them tabloid cover stars. Remember, too, that for the first two years the show was shown on something called Discovery Health. Not exactly E.
Sure, some people go on “reality” shows to try and parlay that into some sort of career…even when these people have no appreciable talent for anything other than being a douche. Maybe I’m gullible, but I never got that type of feeling from Jon and Kate during those first two seasons.
Yes, it was certainly possible that they were headed for a divorce even before the inception of the show. Eight kids before the age of 30 could do that to the best of couples. Hell, I only have two kids and I’m stressed to my eyeballs every day. But eight…fuck! Still, I wonder if they had the opportunity, would they both choose to do the show again?
So this week is all about the (figurative) train wreck.
Stoker recounts just how far George Lucas has fallen.
Jezmon presents for us a decidedly enjoyable train wreck from the world of comics (with overtures of an incestuous relationship).
A guest contributor asks us all to consider the deeper meaning of Newsies.
This Week in Normality — My Love is Inexplicable
Aug 14th
Please enjoy this excerpt of a conversation my wife and I had a few days ago as we were brainstorming ideas for this week’s theme:
Wife: I have a lot of guilty pleasures, like Footloose.
Me: Yeah, that’s true. You ever see Quicksilver? That movie where Kevin Bacon is a bike racer.
Wife: Uh, no! He was a bike messenger, god!
Now please enjoy this awesome(?) Quicksilver trailer:
If Kevin Bacon is my wife’s penultimate guilty pleasure then her ultimate also stems from her childhood and continues on to this day….Rick Springfield.
She still has a Rick Springfield shirt from when she was five that our daughter will be wearing any day now. That’s not a joke, she showed me the shirt on Tuesday.
This theme was inspired by last week’s, in fact, in that yeah, we all love things that aren’t popular, but we also all love things that we should be ashamed of…or not.
Mustardseed considers, for your consideration, the film In the Loop that, much to my surprise, is not about hoolahoops or organized hoolahoop competition.
Not to be outdone, Stoker reviews A Perfect Getaway, which should have been pleasurable but merely left him feeling guilty…see what I did there?
I give to you, faithful Normalinauts, a list of musical guilty pleasures I’m sure will frighten and amaze and humbly suggest that the nerds of the world adopt Football (real football) as our official sport.
This Week In Normality — Under the Radar *Updated with Comic Goodness*
Aug 7th
I’ll be honest, I chose this theme to further my own nefarious ends. You see, about a month ago I finished reading a novel called I Am Not Sidney Poitier by Percival Everett. As I attempted, on several occasions, to write a review and somehow make said review fit into theme after theme, I kept hitting on the same point…no one knows who Percival Everett (or, very few people do) and he’s a genius. That thought then gave rise to the idea that we all (the general all, all of us in the world) love some thing that isn’t popular, and here we have arrived.
It occurs to me, though, that this may become more of a semi-regular topic…say, every six months or so…because I know that I always come across stuff (books and music, mostly) that aren’t wildly popular and I know Stoker could probably rattle off several comics he’s currently reading I didn’t even know existed. We all have our “things.”
Percival Everett, to the best of my knowledge, has never published anything with a major publisher and most of his books are out of print. So unless your a totally insane bibliophile (get your mind out of the gutter…it means book lover) or have take American Lit 1950-Present at Chapman University like I did, you’ve probably never heard of him, which is a damn shame and I lament in more detail in the actual review.
But, of course, “under the radar” doesn’t just mean obscure authors. Jezmon shows us that something can be hiding right in front of us…or more precisely, a show can be on network television, kick ass, and still not get its due.
Stoker enlightens us all on the fact that even someone who is a globally known musician can have creative outlets less well known.
Mustardseed considers how best to deal with the coming magnetic apocalypse of 2012 that no one is aware of.
And, you know what, I like some damn obscure authors so I’ve also highlighted my, hands down, all time favorite science fiction novel which is out of print but readily available online and WILLBLOWYOURFUCKINGMINDISWEARTOGODTHISISNOBULLSHIT!
But hey, I’m not done! Remember I said I like obscure authors <em>and</em> music so why not check out, and rock out to the best band from Murfreesboro Tennessee that you’ve definitely never heard of.
Damnit, I can’t stop! I swear to god, this the last one. Other than So You Think You Can Dance (which is, actually, now done and I can’t believe Jeanine won…the wife says she should thank her boobs), my current favorite show (until Fringe comes back, baby!) can be found on BBC America.
This Week in Normality — Our Childhoods, Raped and Otherwise
Jul 31st
When I was in kindergarten (and Jezmon can verify this, by the way) my teacher (Mrs. Stevens) called me “Duke” because I insisted she do so (and she continued to until jr. high). Duke, of course, was my favorite character from GI Joe. To say that, as a young lad, I was liked GI Joe would be like saying “yeah, the universe is big.”
It might be a true statement, but it misses the point entirely.
I’m grown up now, of course, and I wasn’t anticipating a film incarnation of the Joes as much as I once did, say, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, but I was still excited about it…
Until I saw the trailer…and the accelerator suits.
It didn’t dawn on me at the time but, don’t the Joes, in their accelerator suits, remind you of Megaman? Seriously, did no one realize that one of the things that was so great about the Joes is that they ALL LOOKED DIFFERENT? They might as well be fucking clone warriors in those fucking suits. Seriously, why are they even calling this a GI Joe movie?
I full expect that Dr. Wily will be part of the Cobra team if (gods please no!) a sequel is made. It seems that, just as hollywood has decided to co-opt the comics world for its ravenous appetite, there really are no sacrosanct memories from our formative years.
This week, dear readers, Normality Restored presents to you:
A consideration of how the Wheel of Time will end, by Stoker.
Tengu takes a low priced trip down PC Gaming Nostalgia Way…and you can too!
Jezmon discusses recent uses of robots in Clone Wars and the latest film in the Transformers franchise.
Mustardseed recounts for us a tale from his formative years.
And I present to you the most formative text of my pre-teen years and ask that all filmmakers leave it the hell alone.
We hope you enjoy this, Our Childhoods, Raped and Otherwise, edition of Normality Restored.