For Wealth and Forgettance

There may be infinite ways you can look at any work of art but I see two principle ways you can look at 1949's Caught: either as a left-wing fantasy about the intrinsically superior virtue of the working class or as a restless battle between two vindictive, psychologically disturbed people. I find the latter interpretation more interesting but Lee Garmes' enchantingly dark cinematography and lead performances from Robert Ryan, Barbara Bel Geddes, and James Mason make this a dynamite noir either way.

I watched this movie on Wednesday night and it wasn't until about twenty minutes in I realised I'd seen it before. And here's my review from nine years ago. It's a playful review that doesn't probe too deeply in the film, focusing more on the opening scene where Barbara Bel Geddes washes her feet, but I might have made something more of the opening screenshot I used.

While she dreams about a life of wealth and comfort, Leonora (Bel Geddes) spreads her legs and swats flies between them. This seems a potent symbol of the methods she'll eventually use to marry into wealth, as much as she does have pangs of conscience about it. After being invited to a yacht party thanks to blind luck--catching the eye of a customer at a department store where she works--she's reluctant to go through with attending the party despite having spent time and money on a dress and makeover. Her very reluctance to go says volumes about her motives when she finally does.

She happens to run across the wealthy guy running the party, Smith Ohlrig (Robert Ryan), before she even gets on the boat. She accepts a ride with him but balks at going into his house. There's an abrupt jump cut to Smith in his psychiatrist's office talking about how he'd broken up with Leonora after four dates. When the psychiatrist implies Smith doesn't know how to be intimate with people, he immediately calls Leonora and starts to take steps to marrying her, apparently out of sheer contrariness. Despite the fact that Leonora's internal conflict is supposedly the centrepiece of the film, we don't have a single scene of Smith's courtship of her or of the moment where she consents to marry him.

There's another jump cut, now to Leonora alone in Ohlrig's mansion with Franzi (Curt Bois), a servant of Ohlrig's who plays piano and makes catty jokes about how Ohlrig is a monster. Ohlrig does seem to be paranoid and becomes jealous enough when Leonora laughs at a colleague's joke that he orders both of them out of the room. But Ohlrig never physically abuses her. Nevertheless, Leonora is unhappy enough that when Ohlrig suggests she go away, she takes him up on the offer. She goes to work as a secretary for the saintly Dr. Quinada (James Mason), a paediatrician serving the poorest, working class citizens of New York.

When critics talk about a film noir like Detour, they talk about how the movie's narrative being through Tom Neal's point of view clouds the events depicted with suspicion, especially the people who just happen to die around him, from whose deaths he gains financially or otherwise. The number of unnatural jump cuts in Caught make me think director Max Ophuls has something similar in mind. At one point, Ohlrig comes to find Leonora in her new life. She tentatively agrees to go with him and then there's a jump cut to her waking up in bed in Ohlrig's house. There are no scenes to show any of Ohlrig's behaviour that result in her having sex with him or marrying him. We have no direct evidence that he coerced her, that she was genuinely attracted to him, or that she succumbed to his wishes due to a desire for his wealth. The absence of these key scenes, crucial for the film's nominal argument, raise my suspicions about our point of view character, Leonora. Are we seeing her edited memory?

To add fuel to this fire, we do know that Ohlrig suffers heart attacks when he doesn't get his way--in one case, Leonora admits wishing he would die. The film ends with an event truly remarkable for a film from 1949--Leonora and Quinada actually celebrating the fact that she miscarries the child she'd conceived with Ohlrig. Ohlrig had threatened to get sole custody of the child, something portrayed as a villainous act, and yet . . . Would the kid have really been better off with Leonora? And, hey, if we're talking about edited memories, can we be so sure it was a miscarriage?

Caught is available on The Criterion Channel until June 30.

Twitter Sonnet #1456

A figure turned and faced the empty board.
The figure changed as walls and curtains blurred.
The iron gate repelled the rusty sword.
Confounding truth was ever plain absurd.
Suspicious coats were carried back to Saks.
An easy heart destroyed the hardest man.
The money built a town in lofty stacks.
A house was built of wood and moistened sand.
The cooking sheet was rife with cookie crumbs.
We hid the bike to trick the passing boat.
A growing cake defeats the sickly sums.
A shrinking pie displays the number goat.
It's via steps the feet return to roost.
The dreamy brain confers to greed a boost.

Another Slice of Glorious Purpose

Last night's decent new episode of Loki, "Lamentis", was written by the upcoming Ms. Marvel series headwriter, Bisha K. Ali. Prior to the episode, commentary on Ali has largely focused on her outspoken left-wing political beliefs and the fact that she deleted over five thousand of her tweets when she was hired by Marvel. Whether she intended it to be or not, though, last night's Loki was pretty light on politics.

The female Loki, who goes by Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) for reasons she has yet to explain beyond a dislike for the name Loki, turns out to be physically stronger and a more proficient martial artist than our familiar Tom Hiddleston Loki. Where he was easily subdued by TVA agents, Sylvie, finding her powers useless in the TVA realm, easily overpowers and murders several guards. It's nice to see that the two are still being written as villains, though there are a few odd moments where it seems like Ali forgets, as when Sylvie accuses Loki of collaborating with fascists. What an odd thing to say to a man who'd just been trying to become ruler of the galaxy.

Loki, in turn, criticises Sylvie's apparent desire to destroy the TVA without any particular goal in mind. Whatever problems the system may have, surely it's better to have the multiverse kept in order, assuming that's what the TVA are really doing? The argument is reminiscent of the current dialogue between the Antifa/"Defund the Police" left and those of us who see the system as a necessary part of having an existence with any measure of safety and comfort. With the reveal that the TVA weren't being honest with their strangely incompetent employees, it seems like, within the MCU at least, Ali's point of view will be the accurate one.

Apparently last night's Loki has drawn comment for revealing that Loki is bisexual. Loki director Kate Herron tweeted:

I would quibble this doesn't actually establish Loki as bisexual, only that both men and women had been attracted to him. But okay, if Herron's happy, good for her.

It's been four years now since the San Diego Comic Con I went to where I first really began to notice nearly every panel for every TV series or comic had someone with a frozen smile, mechanically parroting lines about how we had to empower women by making them front and centre in our media, apparently all part of a massive ideological push in the wake of Donald Trump's election. Results of the effort have been mixed and whether or not they've done anything for feminism, or have in fact set back the cause, is certainly debatable. This latest example of a beloved male character pitted against a new, stronger female counterpart isn't as bad as some. At least the two performers seem to have interesting chemistry. Though when Sylvie claims to be just as much a hedonist as Loki--only so long as it doesn't affect the mission--made me wonder how much we really can regard these two as versions of the same character.

Loki is available on Disney+.

Beauty Beyond Your Fingertips

A wealthy old man boards a train and then dumps a bucket of water on a beautiful girl pursuing him. He sits down with a psychologist, a magistrate, and a young mother to explain why in 1977's That Obscure Object of Desire (Cet obscur objet du désir). The final film of the surrealist master, Luis Bunuel, it portrays the relationship between the frustrated old man and the enigmatic woman with captivating comedy, drama, and dream logic. This film manages to convey some things very true about the nature of desire.

Mathieu (Fernando Rey) visits the home of a friend where he finds himself enchanted by the new housemaid, Conchita, played by the cool and statuesque Carole Bouquet. He correctly deduces by her mannerisms and delicate hands that she doesn't come from a working class background. It turns out she's a flamenco dancer from Seville.

When Mathieu confronts her about her past, the actress playing Conchita inexplicably changes to the sultrier Angela Molina. Conchita's actress will change between Bouquet and Molina throughout the film. Mathieu's fascination with her increases and she claims to return his affection. Time and time again, though, just as they're going to consummate their relationship, Conchita finds some reason to abstain. Sometimes it's as simple as not being in the mood, sometimes it's an intricately laced pair of shorts Mathieu finds impossible to remove.

Or something equally absurd. Sometimes Conchita seemingly reveals that she'd been stringing Mathieu along just for his money, other times she seemingly reveals her apparent cruelty was only a means of keeping his passion inflamed. She claims to do such things only because she fears losing him. Is she telling the truth? What does she believe about her own motivations? The answer is no clearer than the one about why she's played by a tag team.

The film abounds in clues. Somehow they all seem deeply meaningful even as it's impossible to add them up in a way that closes the case.

Occasionally a man is seen carrying a dirty burlap sack. In one scene, Mathieu carries it himself. Throughout the film, left-wing groups perpetuate random terrorist attacks. In one scene, Mathieu's driver is beaten and killed by terrorists and Mathieu is left by the side of the road. He's shaken but, by the time he gets home, Conchita dominates his thoughts again. Which should be edifying for any terrorists watching--no bomb, no hijacking, no mass slaughter can compete in the imagination with an unsatisfied romantic urge. That much, at least, is clear.

That Obscure Object of Desire is available on The Criterion Channel.

Some Musical Respite

I saw some kids playing with some small fireworks, or "hanabi", 花火--"flower fire"--on Saturday. It's a traditional summer activity in Japan. This was outside a curry restaurant where I went to help some kids study. There's another big test coming up this week, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. I talked to a girl yesterday who seemed exhausted as she told me that, after school, she was going first to cram school, then to supper, then to another cram school. There's no lack of effort on the part of these poor kids but people have still find themselves wondering why Japan lags behind other countries in English. I heard one guy opine that it was because Japan is too focused on testing. I think that may be true but it only scratches the surface. I think there's just a deeply ingrained belief that it's more important that things should be done a certain way than that they should be done at all. Which isn't necessarily as bad as it sounds--it can mean the ends don't justify the means.

Yesterday, I also listened to kids present their essays on songs they like. One girl from art club, who usually produces some of the more interesting, stranger drawings, shared this song:

The title means something like "The Saturated Summer". I suppose it's hardly a surprise so many of the songs the kids like are big, cathartic releases of emotion.

A lot of songs are from anime series and a lot of the songs sound like they're from anime series even if they aren't.

That one was released in February of this year and already has over 56 million views.

I was happy to see a few kids like the theme from the new Evangelion movie:

Twitter Sonnet #1455

The easy short was long and long again.
Discovered air rebounds led to blanks.
The golden collar marks the genie train.
A tiny flask replaced the lion tanks.
The spirits green and red were pale at dusk.
Beside the ghost a table fell and broke.
The em'rald bed's a merely fluffy husk.
Beyond the glass a guest has lately spoke.
Adventures hid in cases understood.
Revealing names were parsed in diff'rent tongues.
Authentic faces fell behind the wood.
The pulpit bow was climbed by knotted rungs.
Eternal mornings bring the lightning back.
In darkness, flowers cut the green and black.

The Critical Ghost

Raising the dead can be a bit of a bother, yet there are points both for and against such a project, some of which are elucidated in 1945's Blithe Spirit. Directed by David Lean from a play by Noel Coward, a snooty upperclass couple find themselves inconvenienced when a seance summons the spirit of the husband's dead first wife and the spirit decides to take up permanent residence. It's a very funny film and actually quite eerie in moments thanks to some darkly shaded Technicolor and a committed performance from Margaret Rutherford as the medium.

We meet Charles (Rex Harrison) and Ruth (Constance Cummings) engaging in gentle, sophisticated banter about his first wife, Elvira, as they dress for a dinner party.

CHARLES: I remember her physical attractiveness, which was tremendous, and her spiritual integrity, which was nil.

RUTH: Was she more physically attractive than I am?

CHARLES: That's a very tiresome question, Darling, and fully deserves a wrong answer.

RUTH: You really are very sweet.

CHARLES: Thank you.

RUTH: And a little naive, too.

CHARLES: Why?

RUTH: Because you imagine that I mind about Elvira being more physically attractive than I am.

Perhaps Ruth really can take the high road about Elvira's beauty when the woman is dead and gone but it becomes a decidedly more sensitive subject when Charles is constantly conversing with the invisible woman returned to the land of the living. For some reason, only Charles can see Elvira (Kay Hammond).

I love how she's introduced, first as a voice only Charles can hear and then a heavy wind causes the curtains to billow out and from between them she glides into the room in a diaphanous evening gown.

She's a bit green, too, from makeup and lighting. She proceeds to smugly chide Charles on various matters from the gardening to the decorating, both unmitigated disasters, as far as she's concerned, and Ruth is at fault. It takes a floating vase to prove to Ruth that Elvira isn't a product of Charles' drunkenness but after this Ruth very soon seeks out Madam Arcati, played by Margaret Rutherford, for assistance in sending Elvira back from whence she came.

Rutherford is so good in this, so full of eccentric enthusiasm, coming off as someone who's spent far too much time alone studying an esoteric subject. Among other things, it brings a fascinating sense of credibility to what she's doing and supports some curious opening title cards:

When we are young
We read and believe
The most Fantastic Things

They seem more appropriate for a Jean Cocteau film than this concoction of dry, high brow lunacy. Somehow these two contradictory elements, the fantastic and the ironic, play off each other pretty well in this movie.

Blithe Spirit is available on The Criterion Channel.

Twitter Sonnet #1454

Remembered steps were blue and envy green.
Above the floor assistants pin the chart.
Entire forests laze in Sally's bean.
The slackest tree could win a soil heart.
The moving camp required boats and rafts.
Gorillas slept in placid groves and rooms.
The flimsy limbs dissolved for shoddy grafts.
Above the din a somber tuba looms.
The global glob was something full and blank.
Elusive stats report the glad annoyed.
To float the data minds profoundly sank.
We fly abreast of clear and foggy void.
The end was never clear in runny print.
The air itself repulsed the kindly meant.

The Emperor's New Nihilism

A selfish monarch learns to value the humanity of his subjects in Disney's animated film The Emperor's New Groove. Released in 2000, this film had been in development for over six years, during which time it profoundly changed form due to conflicting decisions and indecision from Disney management. What started as an epic romance, loosely patterned on The Prince and the Pauper, tonally similar to other Disney Renaissance films, became an oddly disposable comedy with brilliant animation reminiscent of Chuck Jones. It's not an easy film to watch and I found myself overcome by impatience around thirty minutes in. The problem is the main character, the titular Emperor voiced by David Spade, whose selfishness is such an ouroboros of self-parody he becomes a comedic black hole. The villains, voiced byPatrick Warburton and the great Eartha Kitt , fare much better, particularly Warburton's character, Kronk, but not quite enough to make this a movie I'd ever want to watch again.

Extreme selfishness can be funny. Think of how far Oscar Wilde got with it in his plays. I think the problem with Emperor Kuzco (Spade) is there's no real pleasure in the selfishness. There's a kind of ghostly smarm as he reclines on his throne and servants pile treasures about him. There's not even a sense of genuine sadism as he rejects a line of gorgeous brides. Nor is there a sense of genuine lust. He's just cruel without any sense of motive, not even for the pleasure of cruelty.

Eartha Kitt plays Yzma, advisor to the emperor, functioning less like Jaffar in Aladdin than like Jaffar in The Thief of Bagdad, another story about a monarch being deposed and magically cursed by his advisor. In that case, Prince Ahmed is not the most interesting character in his film but he's still engaging enough because we understand his motives right from the beginning.

Yzma is juxtaposed with Kuzco and the two are shown to be similar in their contempt for the peasantry. Yet Yzma's motives are much clearer--she desires the throne--and she takes delightful pleasure in her schemes. When Kitt was originally cast, there were to be musical numbers in the film similar to other Renaissance era films but ultimately The Emperor's New Groove went the same route as Tarzan and The Lion King, employing pop singers, in this case Sting and Tom Jones, to sing separately from the main characters. What a tragedy that Eartha Kitt didn't have a musical number. Jones plays "Theme Song Guy", giving us a humdrum musical number to introduce Kuzco, while Sting's song appears only in the end credits. He wrote a number of songs that were cut from the film and the song that does remain is so tonally at odds with the rest of the film I actually laughed when it started to play. It's like if "Feed the Birds" played at the end of Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.

John Goodman has some natural warmth as Pacha, the peasant who ends up being Sabu to Kuzco's John Justin, but he's also a bit boring and the only interest to be had between he and Kuzco comes from the zaniness of the animation.

Some of it is so good it reminds me of the heyday of Disney and Warner Brothers shorts about Donald Duck or Bugs Bunny. One is reminded that the studios put the kind of effort in those shorts later reserved only for feature films.

Yzma is good but the only character who completely works is her henchman, Kronk, voiced by Patrick Warburton. He's just such a good natured lug that there's comedy inherent just in the fact that he's working for Yzma. And then he's oddly proficient--as when he accidentally takes over duties as a cook at a diner or reveals he can speak Squirrel.

The diner sequence is an example of how postmodern the humour is--which I think is the real reason Kuzco himself is so empty. He's too busy being a kind of character to be a character. It also means The Emperor's New Groove is kind of the anti-Pocahontas. There are no natives of Peru in the cast and there's no apparent attempt to honour Incan culture. On the one hand, I do think Disney needed to move away from the idiotic politics behind Pocahontas and some cartoonish anarchy is certainly a way to do that. But on the other hand, the humour in The Emperor's New Groove is often so obnoxious and empty, I feel like it left a hole in my stomach lining. At least Pocahontas and John Smith were sexy. The best The Emperor's New Groove can manage is one affable henchman and it's just not enough.

The Emperor's New Groove is available on Dinsey+.

...

This is part of a series of posts I'm writing on the Disney animated canon.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
Pinocchio
Fantasia
Dumbo
Bambi
Saludos Amigos
The Three Caballeros
Make Mine Music
Fun and Fancy Free
Melody Time
The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad
Cinderella
Alice in Wonderland
Peter Pan
Lady and the Tramp
Sleeping Beauty
101 Dalmatians
The Sword in the Stone
The Jungle Book
The Aristocats
Robin Hood
The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh
The Rescuers
The Fox and the Hound
The Black Cauldron
The Great Mouse Detective
Oliver & Company
The Little Mermaid
The Rescuers Down Under
Beauty and the Beast
Aladdin
The Lion King
Pocahontas
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Hercules
Mulan
Tarzan
Fantasia 2000
Dinosaur

Scavenging and Running

Within the first few minutes of last night's new Bad Batch, I was happy to observe it must have been written by one of the better writers. And indeed, it was written by Christian Taylor, who also wrote the other best episode of the series so far, "Cornered". Last night's new episode, "Reunion", again showed his ability to credibly give an impression of character thought processes relative to their environments and relationships.

Hunter (Dee Bradley Baker) and Tech (Dee Bradley Baker) come up with the bright idea to loot the Jedi cruiser while they're there. This motivation for the characters shows Taylor's ability to think for them. The action that followed was a satisfying cat-and-mouse conflict between Crosshair (Dee Bradley Baker) and his former comrades. I was even amused by Wrecker (Dee Bradley Baker) physically tossing a proton torpedo at some troopers.

Wrecker continues to have my least favourite Dee Bradley Baker performance but I like how Christian Taylor writes him as crazy instead of stupid. I love the fact that Crosshair ended up with what looks like some extensive scars. There's some very Star Wars-ish poetry about it. Maybe he'll end up with cybernetic parts?

The Guest Star of the Week didn't show up until the very end but it was worth the wait--the long anticipated return of Cad Bane (Corey Burton) was effected with a distinctly Spaghetti Western flourish, reminding us that was the mode Lucas himself intended for the bounty hunters long before Jon Favraeu went that route with The Mandalorian. The showdown between Bane and Hunter seemed straight out of a Sergio Leone film, though of course it was much faster, which diminished its impact a little.

Bane's familiar broad brimmed hat is noticeably smaller which I'd say is a sure sign he's going to be making his live action debut in one of the new upcoming series, probably The Book of Boba Fett.

Incidentally, Temuera Morrison recently confirmed in an interview that Robert Rodriguez is directing several episodes of the Boba Fett series. I suspected this would be the case but I'm overjoyed to have it confirmed. This makes The Book of Boba Fett the Star Wars project I've been most excited for since Disney bought the IP. Jon Favreau is a good director but Robert Rodriguez made El Mariachi which is a better film than anything J.J. Abrams, Rian Johnson, Taika Waititi, or Jon Favreau have ever made. And Rodriguez is a bona fide action director. In a world less bogged down by corporate overhead, a director like Rodriguez would have been an obvious choice for a Star Wars project from the beginning.

I feel so happy for Boba Fett right now. Congratulations, man.

The Bad Batch is available on Disney+.

A Pleasant Day's Voyage Through the Epochs

A group of small boys find a trilobite fossil and decide the only reasonable thing to do is embark on a Journey to the Beginning of Time (Cesta do pravěku). This 1955 Czech Science Fiction film is intensely charming. It combines enthralling special effects with a credible sense of childlike thought process and also an appreciable sense of adherence to contemporaneous scientific knowledge of prehistorical animals and environments.

Director Karel Zeman introduces four little explorers who figure since most of the things Jules Verne wrote about came true they ought to be able to find a cave they can go through to travel back in time. And so it proves. Rowing a boat through a dark cave, they emerge onto a river partly frozen over and soon observe a woolly mammoth.

The film combines a number of different kinds of effects technique including stop motion, puppets, costumes, and matte paintings. As is usually the case with practical effects, they age so much better than cgi because, even when they're not convincing, they still have a sense of life to them. There's a great deal of artistry to these, too, and I love how they're shown side by side with mediaeval engravings of dragons while the boys muse on the connexion between these real beasts and the beasts of human imagination.

I also admire the film's attention to prehistoric plant life and the kids talk about the different kinds of trees and shrubs they see, things that are as extinct as the dinosaurs and mammoths that crash through them.

After the weekend's less than inspiring look at a dinosaur movie, I decided to watch this after seeing it recommended on Caitlin's blog and I'm glad I did.

Journey to the Beginning of Time is available on The Criterion Channel.

The Mischievous Time Guardian

Last night's new Loki, the second episode, didn't have any big moments as great as the first episode but the writing was more consistent in quality. It comes from first time writer Elissa Karasik whose previous credits include working as an assistant on Bones and Backstrom and appearing as an actress in a short film called First Handjob. I continue to be mystified by Disney's hiring process.

Karasik's episode takes advantage of the format of a television series and allows the characters to settle into longer, quieter scenes and get to know each other. It's also a procedural with Loki (Tom Hiddleston) and Mobius (Owen Wilson) being detectives, spitballing ideas and doing research.

The show definitely has a very strong Doctor Who vibe to it, particularly bearing a strong resemblance to the Eleventh Doctor's first couple of seasons. The idea of the Variant Loki hiding near apocalypses isn't as satisfyingly complex as the kinds of things Stephen Moffat could dream up but it was still pretty fun watching Loki goof off in Pompeii.

I don't quite understand why the TVA don't disguise themselves when visiting different eras. Overall, they seem pretty clumsy and easily outwitted and it seems less and less credible they've never betrayed their presence before. But the chemistry between Hiddleston and Wilson is so good I'd be willing to forgive worse crimes than that.

I don't have any strong feelings about the Loki Variant being female. Since Loki is capable of changing sex at will, I'm not sure it even really means anything at all. Actress Sophia Di Martino has a long resume but I've never seen her in anything before. It'll be interesting to see her play off Hiddleston. I hope she's not going to be the replacement Loki in the next MCU Phase if only because it seems kind of silly to have this happen to every single Phase One character.

Loki is available on Disney+.

The Antlers of the Season

On a recent trip to Nara Park, I noticed the antlers on the deer are looking a lot bigger. Yesterday, I started working at the school where I spend most of my time again. I'd last been there in April and, since then, the third year students had graduated and everyone else moved up a grade. I can't believe how much the little first years have grown now that they're second years.

Mostly this week I've been working with third year students, though, and I was happy to see many of these former second year students, too. We played a game to-day to help them learn present and past participle adjectives. One teacher had come up with some "Who am I?" cards--the teacher reads three hints on the cards and then students have to guess who the teacher is. He asked me to make some additional cards that were more fun than what he had, which he could count on me doing because I know plenty about Kimetsu no Yaiba. One thing that's definitely not changed from last year is Kimetsu no Yaiba is the bible for these kids. All the cards I made ended up being much too easy.

I was struck by the subtle reverence the students exhibited when the answer to one card was Rengoku Kyojuro. It's easy to see why he would be an icon to students--the hero of the Kimetsu no Yaiba movie worked and trained all his life, respected his family and honoured his mother's wishes, and still he failed. With all the work these kids have to do, the pressure they're under and all the tests they have to pass, it's no wonder they'd sympathise with someone like Kyojuro. Though when I saw the Kimetsu no Yaiba movie, Kyojuro reminded me of Kyuzo in Seven Samurai. I sometimes wonder if Kyuzo was related to the psychological blow of Japan's loss in World War II. Now I wonder if Kimetsu no Yaiba is the latest iteration of the same story of sincere, rigorous effort rendered meaningless by a single, overwhelming catastrophe.

It's been hot and rainy here, it being the rainy season. Thus all the wild growth, the massive tide of green and flowers. It's nice to live somewhere with seasons.

Twitter Sonnet #1453

The giant wasn't big so people slept.
In dreams of rope the copper lantern falls.
In dusty flowers poison hearts are kept.
A sugar habit hardens sturdy walls.
A leather string connects the cows to years.
A ticking clock observes the frightened man.
The golden sun recalls a dearth of fears.
A chip of gold could scratch the iron pan.
The question cornered words across a sky.
Across a sea, the sentence fished for art.
The random seeds produced a myst'ry pie.
The brain absorbed an extra, senseless heart.
A steady rain encouraged second trips.
Encroaching sun in ocean coffee dips.

Thanksgiving in June

"Pangs" is an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer that has either aged very well or terribly depending on your politics. The drama in this Thanksgiving episode from 1999 hinges on a spirit of California's native Chumash people rising from the grave to murder various people of European descent. Writer Jane Espenson constructs the story as a vehicle for philosophical argument in a way that feels very natural for the characters and organic overall.

Willow (Alyson Hannigan) has started to inherent some of her mother's ideological attitudes which Espenson had mocked in the episode "Gingerbread" from the previous season. Now Willow, in college, condemns the idea of even celebrating Thanksgiving as reinforcing the values of European settlers who violently appropriated territory. Once a Native American spirit (Tod Thawley) starts committing race based assassinations, Willow and Giles (Anthony Head) take up opposite positions. Willow thinks maybe they should help the spirit while Giles feels its madness to help the spirit murder innocent people. At the time the episode aired, Espenson's own position would hardly have been subtle, but to-day, when people commonly argue for the idea of racially inherited malevolence (now often called "whiteness"), Willow's position is entirely plausible.

I really like how Espenson uses the supporting characters of Spike (James Marsters) and Anya (Emma Caufield) to bring complexity to the argument in ways that are both funny and meaningful. Xander (Nicholas Brendon), who's been infected with syphilis and various other diseases by the ghost, doesn't hesitate to side with Giles and makes a sweeping statement about the irredeemably of "vengence demons", forgetting that the woman tenderly wiping his brow, Anya, is herself a former vengeance demon.

It's been very amusing that the former mass murderer has been accepted into the Scooby Gang but in this moment we're compelled to question our own sympathies. We can apply that to the argument at hand in two ways--either to realise that a person (or a group occupying the conceptual space more suited for an individual person) can be redeemed of even the most horrific of past sins or that its habit for the person/group mind to selectively forgive past transgressions based on the convenience of circumstance. Looking at it either way compels us to probe the validity of either position.

It takes a villain, Spike, to finally clear things up and point out the spirit is trying to kill them so that, whatever the history, now it's a matter of kill or be killed. Spike now takes up an interesting position on the series as a neutered villain who essentially becomes an amoral chorus. It's not unlike the idea behind Quentin Tarantino's The Hateful Eight, a story in which ideas normally impermissible in public discourse can be engaged in because the people expressing them are all understood to be villains.

It's episodes like this that make it seem little wonder the modern Left wants to disassociate itself from this former cornerstone of Internet liberal culture.

Fortunately for humanity, Buffy the Vampire Slayer is available on Amazon Prime.

The Stone Tomb

Yesterday my friend Shuichi and I visited Ishibutai Kofun, a nearly 1400 year old tomb.

It was the tomb of Soga no Umako who was his period's rough equivalent of Prime Minister. He died in 626.

The stones forming the ceiling weigh around 77 tonnes.

The sarcophagus was destroyed and looted long ago.

Outside the tomb is a reproduction of the sarcophagus.

Twitter Sonnet #1452

The long and turgid tuna dipped to depth.
The tips of waves were painted white and grey.
To speak of whitings nicks the plate to death.
Incautious cuts could carve the brittle clay.
A duck of ham is pink but beaked and squat.
A porpoise posed would ink a squeaky bomb.
And that's the rap that sussed the sprinkler bot.
A billion boots of juice'd stomp the calm.
To splashing heaven noodles dived with cakes.
The dish of fish put crinkled eyes aflame.
On painted hugging apes the goblet bakes.
Your toe reboots a crack'ling tricky game.
Balance pits a peach beside its gut.
Sleepy gods attain the plushy rut.