Master of the Hounds

OK so I have quite gotten this movie out of my head yet. As I mentioned in my last post Prometheus will make you think. I also mentioned that many people have done some fairly deep analysis of the movie (seriously read those links if you're interested) and I wasn't sure what I had to add to the discussion.

There was one element of the movie that confused me and I wasn't the only one, specifically the black goo. It is one of the more ambiguous and opaque elements of Prometheus, honestly its one of the things that I wish Scott had spelled out a little more clearly. So far none of the discussions have given me an satisfactory explanation.


( There be spoilers...Collapse )

Prometheus is probably one of the most divisive movies to come out in a long time. Most people tend to gravitate to one extreme or the other on the love/hate axis, with a few of us in the in the middle.

One of the movie's strengths is that it does promote thought. To quote my friend Sandy “I'm still thinking about Prometheus. I think I'm frustrated because it's really good, really flawed, but so close to being great. You can have an intelligent conversation about it.”

I can't seem to leave it alone either. Many people have dissected this movie and much of what I have to say has been said better by someone else. I may come back to this when I have something new to add to the debate. For now though, I have a few tip for the folks who haven't seen it yet to maximize your Prometheus viewing experience. Without spoilers and further ado:

Uncle Matt's Guide to Enjoying Prometheus:
Temper your expectations.

Don't expect this to be a direct prequel to Alien., it does not line up, this is more of a tangent.

Don't expect the plot of this movie to make sense, seriously it does not, you may strain something trying to do so. The plot and structure of this movie are seriously flawed, characters will behave nonsensically and events will happen only to move the plot forward. It may help to imagine Sigourney Weaver off stage somewhere in the film's universe reprising her role from Cabin in the Woods.

Do remember this is a horror movie. They were not fucking around with the R rating. Prometheus contains one of the most harrowing scenes I've sat through and I don't even have that set of reproductive equipment.

Do go with an open mind and enjoy it for what it is. Prometheus has some of the most amazing visuals I've ever seen. Seriously see it in 3D, Ridley Scott does Sense of Wonder right, awe is a part of the experience.
Enjoy the performances, yes there are good ones. Michael Fassbender steals the show, his performance as David is worth the price of admission alone. Charlize Theron and Idris Elba's performances are also great and I left the movie wishing the two of them had gotten more screen time. Noomi Rapace may not sine as brightly as the actors I just mentioned, but she does an admirable job as the protagonist, and conveys the sense of awe and wonder well.

Prometheus will make you think, as I've said before, that is one of its true strengths. Scott does not spoon feed the audience or insult our intelligence. Despite the mess of a plot there are important questions asked and some truly deep themes running through it.

So sit back, relax and enjoy the spectacle.

At 3:45pm, Halley, our refugee kitty passed on. She had lived a year and a half longer with thyroid disease then the vet had given her. Sometime over the weekend she gave up and stopped eating and by this afternoon the light in her eyes was all but gone, so we decided to have the vet help her across. She did not have the easiest life before we knew her, nor was she the easiest cat to get along with. She never really did affection until the last few years of her life. She retained the refugee's singular focus on food up until the end. I can only hope that the ten years she spent with us was far better then the unknown number of proceeding years; that as Peter Watts puts it, her life sausage was far fatter with us. She was warm and safe and not alone in the end.

Addendum: The life sausage reference comes from Peter eulogizing his beloved cat Banana. It is a beautiful, honest, raw and brutally unsentimental remembrance of the passing of his friend, so here be grief triggers. It reminded me of our own loss when Freyja died. I still feel guilty that I grieve more for the passing of a cat, whom I was only aware of from a blog, then the one who shared my house for a decade.

much_ado Suggested that I may have been hasty in my headlong rush last night to show the world this great thing I had thunk. For some valid security reasons I've taken my project down, those who are interested in reading it I can e-mail a copy for your perusal. In the next couple of days I'll try and post a companion piece to it here. Also anyone who's read the project can discuss it here. Thank you all.

Today at school I had two rather touching interactions with people. This, on a day where I am sufficiently sleep deprived that everything has a slightly abstract detached quality to it, was especially nice to be reminded of the kindness of other human beings and the importance of even the more peripheral human relationships in my life.

Last night some dear friends made possible an experience I would not have been able to have otherwise.

It's been a good reminder of just how blessed I am and the many things I have to be thankful for.

It been some time since I wrote about my beliefs. To be perfectly honest it's been a long time since I've written anything at all publicly in this space, but we're not going to go there today.

As I was getting ready in the bathroom this morning, I had a moment of existential reflection followed by a momentary deep depressive episode.

( more on existential musings (long)...Collapse )

I am not implying that religion is a comforting lie, but if that was all it was it would be enough. If it is simply the mechanism we use to function in the face of paralyzing existential dread, then it has value it is not “meaningless”. The way in which we relate to each other has meaning. Most of all is the way we comfort each other and make the unbearable bearable.

Please hear me O Divine,

 

Weather thou be Supernatural Agencies, mysteries beyond understanding,

The spark of the divine in each of us, deep memetic cultural archetypes,

Neurobiological structures, or the physical laws that govern the universe.

Be with those I love who are suffering, know that I wish them aid and comfort.

Nights of Villjamur is a book of ambitious ideas and deeply flawed execution. I wanted to like this book, but it fell painfully short of expectations. It was not helped that I started reading it after finishing Amanda Downum’s The Bone Palace, after which many books will seem pale and clumsy in comparison. Sadly, Mark Charan Newton’s work stumbles all on it’s own, reaching for greatness and wonder, delivering something flat and incoherent.

After recovering from the derailing and unnecessary prolog, the book starts out with some promise. Under a dying red sun, the ancient fortress city, Villjamur, seat of the Jamur Empire is beset by a flood of refugees seeking shelter from the impending ice age. The Empire, though the pinnacle of civilization for the current age, is built on the bones of the greater more advanced ones that came before. Magic appears to be remnants of poorly understood ancient technology. Where there are nonhuman races, they aren’t the generic fantasy retreads of Tolkien. It’s all a refreshing change, if not entirely new. Newton evokes the fiction of Moorcock, Wolf and Vance in his world building. The plot threads again start with promise. High ranking city counselors are being murdered and the mystery points to a larger conspiracy. The Empire is under attack from shadowy external threats, some of which lead back to the above conspiracy. Plot threads begin to multiply, Newton overreaches and is unable to manage all the branching plot threads and weave them into a coherent whole.

At this point I begin to notice a niggling irritation that’s been growing in the periphery of my consciousness; the dissonance between what Newton is trying to convey and what is executed on page. Newton’s authorial voice is flat, affectless, matter of fact. The narrative beats are off. He tells more then he shows or at least gives the impression of doing so, the flat delivery draining the life out of some of the more descriptive passages. It reminds me of nothing so much as reading translations of Old Norse sagas or more modern works by Henning Mankell or Stieg Larsson. That is forgivable in those works, especially when the underling story and structure can stand up in spite of the unremarkable prose. Here it doesn’t.

 

( One may wonder why I kept going then...Collapse )

( However the most glaring failure of disbelief comes at the climax (Be forewarned spoilers ahead)...Collapse )

All of this is set up for future installments of the series wherein our heroes fight off invading Lovecraftian monsters (a plot line introduced close to the end of the book) and fight to restore the empire. The idea sounds interesting, but I don’t think I can force myself to see if Newton can improve on his execution. In the end I really can’t fault Newton for trying big and failing, but for failing such an uninteresting way.

Mom received a rather hinky call from a dude in some sort of incarceration...there is a special hell for those who try and scam quakers...

Thank You