Your Terminator Friend

1991's Terminator 2 is on Netflix here in Japan so I watched it a few days ago. While the Cold War adjacent premise may not maintain its dread in the face of the looming, much more complex, dystopia, overall the film holds up marvellously. Mostly it comes down to good old fashioned filmmaking. James Cameron really is a master at conceiving, constructing, and editing action sequences.

You sense an understanding and appreciation for a real world you don't often get from modern directors whose life experiences were shaped by video games. It's in the little things, like how the T1000 (Robert Patrick) chases John (Edward Furlong) out of the mall.

I'm pretty sure I've been to that mall. Oh, the nostalgia. Watching this movie made me wish I was eating greasy Del Taco quesadillas and green burritos.

And there are big things, like the tanker of liquid nitrogen crashing into the steel mill. How often did you hear about liquid nitrogen in other works of fiction after Terminator 2 came out? For every good writer, there are 40 hack leeches. But their products never come off as well because they lack Cameron's understanding of continuity and how to set things up from shot to shot. Like Schwarzenegger walking towards the cops, heedless of their hail of bullets, to pick up the gas gun and shoot them, fulfilling his promise to John not to kill anyone. The cops had been set up as having a gas gun, so it's completely plausible for the Terminator to casually pick one up off the table.

Another reason I don't think other Terminator sequels have worked as well (though I still haven't seen the latest) is that they try too hard to humanise Schwarzenegger's Terminator. Cameron actually does a pretty good job using Schwarzenegger's natural charm over a toneless performance to plausibly create the impression of a humanoid machine. When I first saw the movie, I was with John in wanting the Terminator to show a heart. Now, maybe because I'm older, I think about how lucky the Terminator is to have a kid around who loves him that much.

When I went hiking with the kids from school to Asuka a few weeks ago, one of the other teachers had given each group of kids something called "RoboHon".

The leader of each group of kids wore a RoboHon that gave the kids tips or communicated information about other groups wandering Asuka. Watching the kids talk to RoboHon, they were clearly aware that the machine truly lacks human level intelligence, but their behaviour in response was to sort of politely laugh about it, the way you would laugh about a cute and earnest but very awkward kitten. I realised, these kids, on some level, really believed in RoboHon and it kind of made me want to believe in it, too.

Twitter Sonnet #1498

The kind of taste we wanted split the bill.
Recovered tabs will take a while blitzed.
The effort cost a buck and Shiva's will.
The guest recalled a hand of leather mitts.
The folded dollar hid a pointed brick.
The story built in paper flesh could run.
A metal cage was caught to pull the trick.
With starry eyes we flew across the sun.
Accepted rum was dearly bought for specs.
Returning champs were bags we packed to test.
However long the question, time collects.
However big the stone, the bones will rest.
The brittle skull was dust beneath the foot.
The future day was dark with purple soot.