Sunday, June 03, 2018

Review of A Stupid Place


Just watched A Quiet Place, and despite the undeniable quality of production and the acting, there are so many gaffes and gaps in common sense that by halfway through I was completely disengaged and pissed off.


For instance and in no particular order: THERE'S NO REASON FOR A NAIL TO BE STICKING UP IN THAT LOCATION ON THE STAIRS. NONE. FUCKING CONVENIENT PLOTTING, ASSHOLES.

HERE'S A SOLUTION: PLANT LAND MINES. GUNPOWDER. DEADFALLS IN THE FOREST. ANYTHING. IF YOU CAN HOTWIRE A HEARING AID YOU CAN BUILD BOMBS, DAD. LURE ONE OF THEM TO A MINE WITH SOUND; THE REST WILL COME RUNNING WHEN IT BLOWS UP. KABOOM.

AND BY THE WAY WHAT FUEL ARE THEY BAKING THAT BREAD WITH? THEY AIN'T CHOPPING FIREWOOD THAT'S FOR DAMN SURE.

AND NO ONE IN THE WIDE WORLD OF SCIENTISTS, MILITARY TACTICIANS AND NEWS BROADCASTERS FIGURED OUT THAT THESE THINGS DON'T LIKE FEEDBACK? GIMME A BREAK.

Writers take note: never get so enamored with a McGuffin that you allow it to blind you to all common sense.

Monday, May 14, 2018

thoughts while watching American Mary for the eighth time

If this Soska sisters had wanted to be really subversive they would have ended the movie with Billy and Mary living happily in Berlin or Argentina as legit club owners at the heart of the underground scene. Sure, some aspects of the movie could have been better fleshed out—Mary's sense of betrayal when she catches Billy getting a blowjob, for instance, or Ruby's husband's controlling streak, or the question of whether Billy actually understood where Mary was coming from in terms of her damage or if he merely had a death wish. Letting Mary come out the other side of her trauma and find some balance—even if it meant she got away with her crimes—would have been more disturbing and satisfying than killing the monster at the end. The ending was the only cheap move in the film.

Friday, May 11, 2018

in case you were wondering

I have deactivated my Facebook account. I had become fed up with what a friend of mine called "the constant horrible buzzing." It was making me ugly.

I haven't deleted the account, I've just been turning it off for a week at a time. I might try checking back once a week unless that gets out of control. Those of you who are actual friends know how to reach me, and a couple have, which is why I'm writing this. I don't want anyone to worry.

I'm making myself read more. Even writing a bit. Trying to reestablish good habits. I might even start blogging again.

Monday, April 23, 2018

rude

I've said it before and I'll say it again: fans are assholes. They are rude, entitled, grabby. There's nothing like giving up an evening, uncompensated, to go and provide free entertainment for a lot of mouth-breathers, only to have them approach you later for the express purpose of informing you that you did it wrong. That you were reading too fast or not loudly enough. Or your pronunciation of a certain word was wrong. Or your writing is too Victorian (WTF dude, seriously?). I wish I were exaggerating but it happens Every. Fucking. Time.

I'm done. I'm not doing another appearance where I'm not selling stuff. Bimbos of the Death Sun portrayed Appin Dungannon as an egomaniacal asshole, but you have to develop rhino hide and a toxic personalty to hold your own against the placid slug consumers who think writer equals whore and you exist only to spoon-feed their fantasies.

I was raised that if someone invited you to dinner you ate what was put in front of you, without comment, and thanked the host for their efforts. I don't need praise but I'm done showing up to be insulted.


Saturday, April 14, 2018

actual costs of historical costuming

I'm feeling the need to tell on myself a bit here, because once again it's convention season, and every year, every con worth its salt proposes a "costuming on a budget" panel, and I'm always strung out between wanting to help and a fatalistic sense that it's a lost cause.