Best of 2008 (Movies, of course)

So here it is. Not that you've been waiting for it, but all the same, it is here. I have officially compiled a list of my top 10 favorite films of 2008. Without further ado:

(The ones that hyperlink to my full reviews will not, clearly, have anything written about them here. Because that would be redundant. Redundant...redundant.) (I'm sorry.)

1. Slumdog Millionaire
2. The Dark Knight
3. Wall*E
4. Hellboy 2 - There's a great story behind Del Toro's involvement with this franchise as it relates to Pan's Labyrinth. I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that the first Hellboy was kind of fun, but ultimately forgettable, and this one is a strange, funny, beautiful and moving story that follows the same characters and displays far greater maturity and depth.
   
5. Son of Rambow
6. The Fall
7. Iron Man - I somehow failed to review this one. I think that when it came out, I wasn't in the habit of posting reviews to this blog. Ah well. I don't think I need to say much about it. It was fantastic, as most of you already know. In no way does it need my endorsement or explanation. If you haven't seen it, you should probably go fix that right away.
   
8. Cloverfield - There's so much to say about this movie. From a purely academic standpoint, it was easily one of the most important movies to come out this year. A lot of people hated it. A lot of people (including, obviously, myself) adored it. That's reason enough to take a serious look.
   
9. Penelope - This is that one about that girl who's born with a pig nose. I know. There was no way I was going to see this film. And, oh yeah, Christina Ricci was starring. How could I have been duped into this one? Sometimes I'm wrong. And sometimes it takes a happy accident for me to realize it. A couple of good friends (girls, both) were going to see it--for a dollar--so I thought...why not? And I was so, so pleasantly surprised. The cinematography, editing, and writing were all so much better than I could have expected, even if I had been expecting to enjoy it. I really believe that this is one of the hidden gems of this year.
   
10. Get Smart

This post is already certainly long enough. But I would feel remiss if I didn't mention the films that almost made it onto this list. Here goes: (in no particular order) The Incredible Hulk, Quantum of Solace, Speed Racer (I'm serious. Yes, really. Stop it.), The Band's Visit, Be Kind Rewind, Ghost Town.

And that's all! Tune in next year for...well, probably more of the same.

*Revision (kind of): I realize, suddenly, shamefully, that The Fall was not, in very fact, released in 2008. No, it was released in (and this is something that I swear I knew) 2006. I saw it this year for the first time, is the thing... Ugh.

Movies, Movies, and, also, FILMS!

You hate the title of this post. And you ought to. It's terrible.

But I've watched a lot of movies in the past few days. Between yesterday and today:

1. Moonlight Mile (2002). I saw this film pretty shortly after it came out, and then watched it again within the week. I really loved it back then. So now, older, wiser, a film-student...I was just curious--you know--is this movie actually good, or does it actually, um, suck. Only one way to find out. I won't give any of the plot away; it's better if you go into it blind. Suffice it to say it's a dramedy (maybe more drama than comedy), and it's got Jake Gyllenhaal, Dustin Hoffman, and Susan Sarandon. But yes, it's very good, it turns out.
   
2. Baby Mama - I never gave this one a review on this blog, but I very much enjoyed it when I saw it in the theaters. Tina Fey is brilliant, and so is Amy Poehler. And they have, just, fantastic onscreen chemistry. The trailers didn't sell this movie to me, but I trusted Tina, and she delivered.
   
3. Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed - Ben Stein is quite a guy. If you don't know anything about this little indie documentary, I'll try do some painless summarizing (oxymoron, I know). So, Darwinian Evolution, as a scientific theory, has become an establishment. Anyone who questions it's validity, or points out its shortcomings, will be rejected and ostracized by that establishment. This doesn't mean a lot to your basic dude on the street, but to serious scientists interested in serious science (those to whom we owe all of our modern advancements), this is a big deal. It's anti-science. So Ben Stein holds interviews with a good number of people on both sides of the fence--those in- and outside of the establishment, and he tries to help us dudes on the street understand why the issue is so important. I was aware and supportive of the sentiments Ben espouses before I saw this film, but it was still an enlightening 90 minutes. See it.

Because it's Christmas (Eve), it's probably important to talk about Christmasy things. Mainly because I won't be blogging on Christmas Day. At least, that's my hope.

So here my list of essential Christmas films: (I won't encumber them with any kind of a review or commentary.)

1. It's a Wonderful Life (1946)
   
2. Scrooge (1951)
3. A Christmas Story (1983)
4. The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
5. Mr. Krueger's Christmas (1980)
6. Elf (2003)
7. Miracle on 34th Street (1947)
8. A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965)
9. Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964)
10. Gremlins (1984)

And, just for kicks, here are some essential Christmas albums:

1. (This is surprising) The Christmas Sessions - MercyMe
2. Sing, Choirs of Angels! - The Mormon Tabernacle Choir
3. This Good Night is Still Everywhere - Dustin Kensrue
4. Songs for Christmas - Sufjan Stevens
5. The Lost Christmas Eve - Trans-Siberian Orchestra
6. Let It Snow Baby...Let It Reindeer - Relient K

And, of course, I have to finally conclude by saying, "Merry Christmas" (because it's what I'm hoping you will have.)

I'll Eye YOUR Eagle

OK, so I finally saw Eagle Eye, which I intended to see when it came out because, you know, it had Shia Lebeouf and Michelle Monaghan and a really sweet trailer.

Turns out that it was...kinda fun. It was like an edgier, more serious, less plausible, more politically charged version of Live Free or Die Hard, actually, all told. I'll waste no more effort explaining the comparison. You'll either see it or not.

I like this kid Shia, gotta tell you. Also, Michelle is just a really lovable actress. Strengths. Premise...NSA accidentally invents...Skynet?

Last time I BLAGGED, I talked about not talking about films about which I fail to be passionate. There was only one aspect of this film that struck a chord, and I'll leave it to a better writer than myself to explain. I'll pull one quote:

And at the end, sure enough, we get the Moral: Yes, the government must try to gather intelligence in order to protect the people, but Not This Way.

OSC's review of Eagle Eye is the concluding bit of a rather long article. Feel free to read it all, but them's directions if you want 'em.

Anyway. Yeah. I'll let him do the talking.

Gameshows and Love Stories

I saw a film last night that blew me away.

I've been accused of being hyperbolic in my descriptions of things I love. This may be true. However, I like to think that there are a lot of things to be passionate about in this world, so why bother fussing about the mediocre things? When I write a review of a film, it'll be a film I either loved or hated. If a film is middling and unremarkable, why talk about it?

"Oh yeah, that was an alright movie. It turned out to be about what I thought it was gonna be about. And the acting was pretty good. I liked the music. It was kinda fun sometimes. And the ending was pleasant. It was kind of slow, but it had its moments--you know--there were a couple of parts that were kind of cool..."

Why?

Instead, let me tell you about Slumdog Millionaire. This is going to sound strange, but I don't know how else to say it. During several lengthy segments of that film, the strength and depth of feeling that I was being pulled through actually caused me to physically tremble.

The concept is so simple. A young man is on the Indian version of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" He's accused of cheating. He's beaten. Tortured. Why won't he confess to having cheated? How could a slumdog possibly know the answers to all the questions?

That's what the rest of the film is about. The answers to the questions are used like touchstones in the history of this young man's life. How did he know the name of the man who invented the revolver? You'll have to see the film to find out. The premise is simple enough, almost, to be trite. But it is not trite. It is grand, beautiful, and deeply moving.

How did they pull it off? This melodrama of melodramas. Must have been the writing, which was flawless and unassuming in its seemingly effortless brilliance. Or maybe the music, which was somehow exactly right for every single second of the film. But it could just as easily have been the cinematography, or the editing, or the production design--all of which were outstanding enough to satisfy the brightest hopes of those who care about such things. Or let's argue for the acting and directing--why else did everyone fall deeply, shamelessly in love with our hero and the love of his life?

All of those things could provide powerful, convincing evidence as for why this film worked so transcendently well. But maybe, above and beneath all of that, there was something else. Someone believed in something better than what we normally see. Through all of the horror we push through, there must be something worth the struggle. It must, must, must be true, and those people responsible for the making of this film not only believed but demanded it. And then they set to work.

I'm trying to remember the last time my heart was filled to overflowing by a film. I can't. I'm sure it will come to me. I certainly won't say that Slumdog Millionaire is the most wonderful film I've ever seen. Because, like I mentioned earlier, I'm trying to avoid reckless hyberboles. I will say, though, that the film I saw last night makes that a tough thing to do.

Another Terminator Movie

Anyone who knows me well knows that I sort of freak out over most (I deliberately don't use the word all) things Terminator. I love all three movies--I think they probably comprise the greatest science-fiction/action trilogy of all time. I think the story is wonderful, and the films are really very, very good. James Cameron, before he sort of dropped out of the industry after Titanic, was the most talented director of action films in the last...well, at least thirty years, but possibly ever. He was responsible for the first two (brilliant pieces of work, both), and the third one, in my not-so-humble opinion, was a fine film as well.

I'm not too hot on the TV series that gracing Fox these days, but it could be worse. I've been watching it because I'm compelled to. That's what obsession does.

But what I'm infinitely MORE excited about is Terminator Salvation. There are two trailers for it on Apple right now--the second one was added today, and it looks pretty wonderful. That's the primary motivation for this post.

A lot of people that are much bigger dorks about the Terminator franchise than I (yes, it's possible...frighteningly possible) are extremely skeptical about whether this film will be any good. Here's why I think it will be great:

1. Christian Bale. The man can't miss. He's been in some of the most solid blockbusters of the last few years, and I can't see him making a bad choice for something like this. He's smart--in the last three years, he's had the lead role in Batman Begins, Rescue Dawn, The Prestige, 3:10 to Yuma, and The Dark Knight. That's three years.

2. Jonathan Nolan and (to a lesser degree) Paul Haggis. Jonathan Nolan is the writing talent behind Memento, The Prestige, and The Dark Knight. Jon is simply a brilliant writer, and he has, to my knowledge, final writing credit on this film. But if that's not good enough, Paul Haggis had the script before him, and he's been behind such little projects as Crash, Million Dollar Baby, Flags of Our Fathers, Casino Royale, Letters from Iwo Jima, and, most recently, Quantum of Solace, just to name a few. If you can't trust the Terminator franchise in these guys' hands, well...you get the idea.

3. The trailers. Admittedly, you can never fully determine whether a film will be good or bad based solely on its trailer. Everyone has had the experience of being fooled into seeing a terrible film because the trailer made it look slick and sexy. But I'm getting better at being able to see through the bull, and these two trailers look extremely promising.

Alright. I'm done advertizing for this film. Mostly I just wanted to vent about how excited I am about it.

Rice that is free.

Two things:

1. You need to have Google Reader. What is it? If you have Gmail, just click on the little blue link that says "Reader" in the upper left-hand corner. All will be explained. You need it because you don't want to have to come visit my blog every day to find out whether or not I have posted. Say you want to be able to ignore my blog completely unless I post something. Well, Google Reader will tell you when I've posted so you don't have to go look for yourself. This will work with any website that has an RSS feed. If you don't know what that is...well anyway, I'm done explaining things for now. I'm really the wrong person to be explaining them anyway. I just barely figured out what some of this stuff is several months ago, and I don't use it that much as it is.

2. I, in fact, use Google Reader. With it, I stay up to date on politics (more or less), movie trailers, my favorite webcomics, my favorite band, and a handful of my friends' blogs.

Today, while I was reading a recebt post on The Fischbowl, I was alerted to a pretty cool site called "FreeRice." Here's what you do: You go to the website and immediately start answering vocab questions. For every question you answer correctly, they donate 20 grains of rice to The United Nations World Food Program.

And they're not messing around with the vocab. There are 60 levels of difficulty, and they escalate as you answer correctly. On level one are words like "liquid" and "dozen" and "awful." On level 60 are words like "champher" and "apodeictic" and "lansquenet." With all of my knowledge and lucky guesses, I could only get up to level 42 ("jambeau" and "horologe" and "picaresque"), but you can start on any level you'd like. It's just that if you start at level 60, you'll probably fail to win any free rice for anyone.

So, fun times. Start a Google Reader account, improve your vocab, and win free rice for hungry people.

On Proposition 8

I don't support gay marriage. I've had gay friends, and I have nothing against gay people generally, but marriage between people of the same sex is a societal perversion. If this is offensive to anyone, I am sorry that you are offended. But I refuse to be among the silent majority on this issue.

I've recently quoted Orson Scott Card regarding Obama on this blog, and I'm about to do so again. The primary reason for this is that I consider some of his articles to be required reading for people who care about this country. He's not very widely-read--no one is anymore. So I'll do my part to get his words out to a slightly greater number of people. This is how the article starts:

On one extreme, we have the idea that the Constitution is a written document that can only be altered by a deliberately time-consuming process of amendment.

On the other extreme, we have the idea that the Constitution means whatever a group of judges says it means.

The Constitution itself belongs to the first group -- it declares that it can only be changed through the amendment process.

Later, regarding Proposition 8, he says:

In California, if Proposition 8 fails to pass, gay-marriage proponents will claim that this constitutes public approval of gay marriage.

Of course this is not true. Many people who have telephoned people about Prop. 8 have heard the person who answers the phone say, "No gay marriage! I am voting no on Prop. 8!" But when you try to explain that if you don't want gay marriage, you have to vote yes on Prop. 8, they often get confused.

But let's step back a little. There should never have been a Proposition 8.

You can and should read the whole thing here. I hope that many more wise people will begin to offer similar sentiments in the near future, but for now, digest this article. I guarantee it will be the most important thing you read today.

Perceiving Persepolis

An-EMT has been, more or less, a success. Last Tuesday was the third week running. And what An-EMT it was.

We went with animation. Not specifically because it was animated, but because it was a highly-acclaimed film (95% on Rotten Tomatoes), and it was very different from the film we'd watched the week before (The Fall).

Persepolis is an uncompromisingly great animated film, meaning it was strong both as a film and as cutting edge, high-minded animation. The film is based on an autobiographical graphic novel by Marjane Satrapi, and it is French, even though Sister Satrapi is Iranian.

The story is a powerful mix of Iranian history and rich character development, and it's hard to gauge which of the two is more compelling. The historical aspect is so personal that it altogether avoids coming off as didactic. And the character development reaches far beyond the main character and lifts up every significant face in the film. Satrapi revealed each of them with utmost sincerity and affection, and, to no lesser an effect, with incredible skill.

This animated adaptation of what I'm sure must have been a superb graphic novel also does what you always hope an animated film will do: it uses the medium. No transition was wasted; no possibility for visual illustration of theme, idea, attitude or emotion was left unused. The film was able to wander all over the artistic world it built for itself without ever sacrificing efficiency of storytelling or losing the audience.

I could barely contain myself after this film. Because though I can't define this masterpiece as a "feel good" film, it made me laugh, made me sad, made me hope, and made me love. And at the end, I felt very, very good--because I felt like it had just given me something valuable and rare: a uniquely artistic insight into a profound life's experience.

I'm a Conservative, Yo

I just spent the last hour watching stuff this guy has posted on YouTube. It was time well spent. I know the video below is almost ten minutes long, but you spend three times that watching an episode of The Office. Get on this. It's good stuff.

"I fell..."

Last night, as I was walking down the long flight of stairs on my trip back home from campus, I took quite a spill. Just one of those foot-too-far slips that brings you down onto the hard, hard concrete. I'm fine. The skin of my forearm took all of the weight as I came down, so all I've got to show for falling down stairs yesterday is a pretty awesome, deep six-inch scrape between my wrist and my elbow. It'll be a sweet scar.

I was on my way home, but not home home, since I was actually on my way to my neighbor's to watch a film called The Fall. Yes yes, I know, soooo ironic--you're very clever for thinking, "Hey, you fell on your way to see a movie called The Fall!" I'm so impressed by your cleverness.

This post isn't about me falling. It's about THE Fall, a magnificently stunning film that I've now seen twice within the space of approximately four days.

First of all: See this film. See it because it's beautiful; see it because it's heartbreaking; see it because it's sweet, funny, moving, and epic. But, most of all, see it because there will never be another film like it. Ever.

The Fall was filmed in about 18 different countries over a period of around four years. None of the locations were altered or enhanced by CGI effects--they are all completely real. The places you will see in this film actually exist. They are awe-inspiring, breathtaking, unbelievable, and you will never forget the journey.

The story: A five year old girl with a broken arm meets a man in his twenties with a broken back. They're both in the hospital, waiting to be well again. Which, for her, means having her arm healed, and, for him, is less certain, since he will likely never walk again.

When she meets him, he offers to tell her an epic story. She, a bottomlessly curious and imaginative little girl, accepts immediately. As he tells the story, we see what she sees in her mind: beauty beyond words.

The actual themes and story of this film are quite good, but not life-changingly so. The film's final strength lies in the delicate, dazzling visual feast, the near perfect score and sound design, and the fact that the story, characters and dialog never once distract by not being good enough. They are all good enough to allow the audience to become fully immersed in the fantasy and glory of the true strengths.

I should also mention that Alexandria is possibly the most enchanting little person I've ever seen on screen. She is perfect. Lee Pace is very, very good as the charming but depressed Roy, but Alexandria steals every frame she's in.

One more time: See this film. It is rated 'R,' but for no good reason. You'll see some blood, but nothing you haven't seen in a hundred comic book movies. This particular movie would have been the best example all year of what a PG-13 film ought to look like. But such is our ratings system.

And finally, here is a link to the trailer. Be sure to watch it in HD if you can. 480p is usually safe.

If You're Wondering About the Economy

Read this article. Here's an excerpt:

When you, Joe Citizen, spend frivolously and default on your loans, the bank takes your house. When the government spends your tax dollars frivolously, it simply cooks the books to cover its excesses. When the books are left in ashes, the government just takes more of your money, or it prints more money, leaving the money it hasn't already taken from you devalued. Over the last few weeks, we've learned that you now face the prospect of an additional indignity: When your neighbor's bank spends frivolously and defaults on its loans, the government's going to take your money then too, to keep the bank in business.

This, actually, is the primary reason Mitt Romney should have been president. Oh well. The best we can hope for now is...come to think of it, I'm not sure. I don't have much hope left. The best I can do, I guess, is try to not be totally ignorant of what's going on. Good luck to me.

To Mr. Obama

Orson Scott Card echoes many of my sentiments, but better stated and better informed. I've just pasted the end of his article here, but you can read the rest (and I recommend that you do) here.

Here's the problem.... Back when you were still saying nothing, you looked very promising to people like me, who thought of you as what you claimed to be -- a great conciliator.

But since Hillary took the gloves off and bloodied you at the end of the primary season, you have been forced to take firm positions on issues and to defend yourself against criticism -- you have been forced to let us see who you are.

And who are you?

When you are caught saying something stupid or wrong, you simply deny saying it and accuse those who quote you of taking your words out of context or misrepresenting you. You claim you "always" held the positions you recently switched to.

You claim to be a conciliator, bringing people together, even though you have the most uncompromisingly radical voting record in the Senate and you have openly sneered at people who don't support your radical leftist program.

And when you are flat wrong, as you were on Iraq and the surge, and your opponent was right, you don't have the grace to say, "Congratulations, President Bush and Senator McCain on this great achievement that has saved American lives and brought us victory."

Instead you are churlish and deceptive, claiming that they followed your program only "too late," which is the opposite of the truth -- and you know it.

If we wanted to elect a man who yearns for America's defeat and can never admit to making a mistake, we could have elected John Kerry four years ago.

A lot of us really wanted to elect you as America's first African-American president.

But there are things more important to our future than mere tokenism. You should only be our President if you are the best person for the job, and you clearly are not.

We don't need a president who hasn't the courage to admit that his previous policy failed and openly change his mind -- the way President Bush did when he determined to change strategy and execute the surge.

We saw your true colors when you sneered at white middle-class voters who cling to guns and religion because they're bitter, as if an entire class of "those people" can be analyzed and dismissed in a sentence.

McCain was not my choice for President at the beginning of the campaign a couple of years ago, Mr. Obama. You were. I rooted for you. I voted for you as recently as the North Carolina primary.

Obviously, I have changed my mind. Why?

I learned a little more about McCain. I learned a lot more about you.

Oops

OK, I just made a huge mistake. I wrote out this huge post, that's rockin' (really, I heard it rock), but I published it on the wrong blog. So instead of trying to figure out how to fix my stupid-person problem, I'm going to just point you to my other blog and beg you to read my AWESOME post:

Lasers, Bagels, and Other Abstractions

The Batman

What can I say that hasn't already been said? If you've read more than one review for The Dark Knight, then you'll have heard that it's far and away the greatest Batman movie ever made. You'll also have heard that it's one of the best crime dramas ever filmed, and that it's probably going to be easily identified as the best blockbuster 2008 has to offer, which is quite a statement next to films like Iron Man and WALL-E.

All of those things are true. The Dark Knight was one of the most complex, moving, powerful films I've ever seen. It was difficult in a way that no other comic book movie and few movies of any other genre have ever been, and far more rewarding because of it. If I was a crier, I would have wept for the pain and beauty of it all.

The Joker. Again, what new thing can I say? Heath Ledger's death was universally tragic because he was probably the most gifted and dedicated actor of my generation. I'll just tell you that his Joker is not a character. He is an overwhelming and unstoppable force of evil and chaos. Heath Ledger virtually disappeared behind the hideous makeup and a performance that will without question go down as one of the most riveting and revolutionary ever meted out on film. My greatest personal compliment is that he succeeded in making me fearful of his appearances on screen. You don't like this villain. He's entertaining…sort of. More, he's horrifying. Every time he stumbled into view, I cringed at what he might do, which was always unpredictable, and always terrible.

And Batman was always, always several steps behind him. Iron Man satisfied the desire to see a superhero kick butt. The Dark Knight does not. I won't give anything away, but no one is safe. Batman won't die, this we can rely on. Beyond that…the stakes have never been higher. This film will surprise you over and over and over again. There is no great twist at the end because the entire movie is comprised of twists and surprises—some of them, mercifully, quite wonderful. And, of course, some of them not.

I loved this film. I knew I would, but I couldn't know how very MUCH I would. The hype and anticipation were as high as they could possibly be. If this film had been anything less than spectacular, I would have been furious. But it's not. It's more.

I saw it in IMAX—it was worth it. But I'm going to see it again this week. Probably on Thursday, when I don't have work. I need to see this film again. The first time through, it exhausted me. I had to hang on for life as the story progressed and, when it was over, I had probably comprehended barely over half of the film. Only after the second run will I be able to feel I've seen the whole thing.

In summary, hyperbole ceases to have a definition in the context of films like this. No praise is too high, and my praises are not high enough. Thus, I am, in the end, left without words to describe my love for The Dark Knight.

Rambow

Whenever I sit down to start spilling the contents of my mind onto paper or a computer monitor, I have to be careful. I'm a storyteller at heart. I love stories. I have within me a bottomless well of endless passion for them. But a lot of the stories I want to tell have already been told, and well. This is natural, because when I hear or see a wonderful story wonderfully told, it ignites my passion for storytelling, and long after, I find myself seized with a desire to tell that story myself, or something very like unto it.

So of course, as a child, movies made their mark on me. The stories they told embedded themselves deep into my heart and mind, and I will be influenced by the movies I saw when I was younger more than any I see as an adult. Somehow, and by the very same magic that the film itself represents, Son of Rambow captured that idea perfectly.

Will is a timid dreamer who meets Lee, a child-demon who wreaks havoc on all things "mature" around him. Lee has aspirations to be a filmmaker, and to accomplish his dreams, he has a VHS video-camera. Did I mention they're in the 80's? Well, now I did. When Will ends up at Lee's house, he chances to see First Blood, and he...um...you could say he just sort of explodes. When Lee returns, he finds Will gone. It turns out that Will's comprehensively capable imagination has fashioned him into the son of Rambo, who turns out to be seeking his father's freedom from a terrifying, vicious captor (who turns out to be a creepy looking scarecrow.)

Shortly thereafter, Lee and Will have teamed up to create their film: Son of Rambow. As time goes by, the project accretes additional actors and crew, and becomes a strain on what has become a very meaningful friendship between Lee and Will.

I don't want to say anything else. Every minute of this film is absolutely wonderful. I was so completely, so deeply invested in all of the characters that I couldn't stop my eyes from periodically widening in a futile attempt to take it all in more fully. It was funny (very very funny), gripping, and sentimental in the best possible ways.

Everything about this film was great. I was blown away by the acting of every character, but most of all by Will and Lee--I have never seen better child acting. I believed these kids were real all the way to the end. And I adored them. Seriously, who knew that this kind of performance was possible from that age group? It's a special tribute to the director, who himself must be very well in-touch with his own inner-child.

I was also continually surprised by this film. Within the first fifteen minutes (probably much sooner than that, actually) I had learned not to try and guess what would happen next. Rambow intuitively embodied the unpredictability of the most entertaining children you know. I fell in love with it much the same way I sometimes fall in love with children I meet. In all of its innocent recklessness and unbridled passion for living, Son of Rambow is ultimately a simple but moving story about two friends discovering and then youthfully wielding the magic of filmmaking. How could I not adore this movie?

Science and Religion

I just finished reading "The City and the Stars" by Arthur C. Clarke, the same man who brought us the literary incarnation of "2001: A Space Odyssey," which remains one of my favorite science fictions to date.

Here's the short synopsis (of "City" not "2001"): Humanity, several billion years in the future and after having taken part in a galactic empire, has ultimately confined itself to the only two remaining cities on Earth. Both of these cities are totally isolated from one another by the deserts that cover the rest of the world, and both of them have lasted, virtually unchanged, for a little over one billion years.

The story starts in the first city, Diaspar, where the inhabitants are essentially immortal. The protagonist is, more or less, the first person born in the city for millions of years, and the story follows his actions and how they affect the future fate of the human race.

Like all "hard" sci-fi epics, the less you know beforehand, the more entertaining the read, so I won't give anything else away. But Clarke is good. His worlds are vivid, believable, and endlessly fascinating. I would certainly recommend this novel to any hard sci-fi fan. Note, the distinction I'm making here is significant. "Hard" refers to fiction which is rooted in known reality and theoretical science. "Soft" science fiction, on the other hand, doesn't bother much at all with that sort of tedium and produces things like "Star Trek" and "Star Wars," both of which are more closely related to fantasy and westerns than they are to science fiction, but I digress.

As I've already made clear, I enjoyed the book. It didn't instill the same childlike awe in me that the more famous "2001" did, but it still fascinated and entertained me in ways only good sci-fi can. That said, it suffers from a lamentably typical anti-religious bias that plagues many of the smaller minds in science. I use the word suffer here to describe the very real way in which it diminishes the work. When an author treats science as the only rational faith to which human beings ought to ascribe, he needlessly alienates a significant percentage of his readership. His fiction is no longer honest at that point, it's preachy. No one likes getting preached at. I'm Mormon, and I typically never read Mormon fiction, because many Mormon authors have not learned how to tastefully incorporate their faith into good literature.

Science is not religion. When it is treated as such, both are cheapened and diminished. There's a great little commentary on this topic by Orson Scott Card in what is mostly a review on "Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed," so I won't go too far into it. What I will say is that believe what you will, it is wrong to openly attack others' systems of belief. Accepting that, one can understand the degree of thoughtlessness and arrogance Clarke displays when he uses, as a major theme and plot device in his story, the "inexplicable insanity" of humanity's obsession with religion. In his fascinating (but still, lest we or he forget, very fictional, and very logically flawed) billion-year distant civilization, mankind has evolved past the primitive compulsion toward religion, and instead has fully embraced the Truth that science so clearly and patiently offers.

This is all quite unfair of me, because Arthur C. Clarke passed away a matter of months ago. My grief over his loss is sincere. He was a great mind and a great author. Perhaps my time would be better spend in soliloquy, but my mind is more consumed with the tragedy of his scientific arrogance. This will ultimately prevent much of his work from reaching the enduring status of work by more sensitive, thoughtful authors. Thank goodness, I suppose, for "2001," and for Stanley Kubrick--without whom Clarke may very well have been forgotten entirely.

Walls and Es

Sometimes, you just have to go do things. Like, for instance, putting down a bunch of Dew and staying up till 2:30am to see Pixar's latest masterpiece, even though you still have to get up at 7am for work.

The last time I stayed up for a midnight showing, it was for 10,000 B.C., and it was only because I was bored. I wanted to get out and do something fun, and I decided that that film would only be entertaining if it was really late anyway. I was right.

My reasoning for catching WALL-E last night was quite different. I wanted to see it more than anything. I have, over the past few years, become a devoted disciple of all things Pixar. This company is making the best family films of our generation--also the best animations, and the best comedies. I say of our generation, but it's possible that I could replace those two words with one word: "ever."

WALL-E had to be good. It was from the same people whose worst film to date (Cars) was still heads and shoulders above every other animation that year without question. I only didn't like it because it wasn't PIXAR good. It was good, just not phenomenally, extravagantly, perfectly wonderful like pretty much everything else they've done. But then they shaped up and put out that Rat movie, and proved that they hadn't lost anything. They're still the best, and they'll continue to break their own records for greatness with each passing year.

This was the promise they made with Ratatoille, and it's the promise they kept with WALL-E.

I won't go over plot details because they're everywhere. The best I can give you is my personal response to this exquisitely touching film. And my response was exactly that: I was touched. I was touched by all of the things they tried and succeeded to do with 97 divine minutes of animation. It lacked nothing in comedy, but if even if it hadn't been funny, it would have been beautiful - the cinematography was stunning beyond words (yes, cinematography can be appropriately used in the context of animation.) And even if it had been neither funny nor beautiful, it would have been touching. When was the last time something "cute" brought tears to your eyes? I'm a hard sell for cute. Most of the time, when something goes for cute, I go for the mental ax, and then whatever it was that was supposed to be "cute" ends up mangled and covered in blood in my mind.

But WALL-E broke my heart. I've, seriously, never seen anything more adorable on screen.

Along the same lines, one of the best kept secrets of this film is what a spectacular character Eve turns out to be. You don't get that from the previews or any of the other promotional stuff. Other reviewers have mentioned it sparingly, but listen, there was no way I could be prepared for how wonderful "she" was. I had no concept of what kind of a character WALL-E's crush would be, so I was blown away by it.

The last surprise was the message. Make no mistake, this is a Green movie. But there is no possible way Pixar could have delivered this particular message with more power, and more taste, than they did. And it worked. Amazingly, it worked. My personal aversion to the latest fashion of environmentalism could have very easily ruined this film for me. But it didn't. Instead, I gave the whole package a nod and just went right on loving this movie with my whole heart.

WALL-E won't even have to blink to get the Oscar for best animated feature this year. But it is also unquestionably the best film to grace the cinema so far this year, and the only other movie that will challenge its position for the rest of the year will be The Dark Knight. That's saying a lot, considering the quality of this summer's blockbusters, and the fact that I'm already sort of planning on Knight becoming one of my top ten favorite films of all time as soon as I see it.

But for now, I'm with the robot. Thus the chorus of adoring praise for this film gains one more voice.

Furious, Horrified, and Saddened

In case you haven't heard, the Supreme Court ruled today that the death penalty is unconstitutional in cases of child rape.

I'm trying to picture a conversation between Thomas Jefferson and Justice Anthony Kennedy. Let's just assume that Mr. Kennedy holds fast to his views and says all the same things to Jefferson in such a meeting. I can't imagine that meeting ending without Anthony lying broken and bleeding on the ground.

Since when did the rape of a child under the age of 12 leave its position as one of the most despicable, unforgivable crimes in the minds of EVERY SINGLE RESPECTABLE PERSON in this country? Isn't this America? Don't we bloody our hands in the defense of the rights of those who are unable to defend themselves?

Maybe I'm being unreasonable. Eight-year-old kids ought to be able to stick up for themselves and say, "No!" when a full grown man decides to do the unthinkable.

Or maybe, if that fails for the child, we should have a vote. You see, I have this rock in my hand, and I, along with the vast, vast majority of my fellow Americans, am without this particular sin. Really, I don't mind if I don't get to be the first, just as long as a big, heavy stone does get thrown, and just as long as it hits its mark.

God save America? With legislation like this, the prospect is becoming far less likely.

Got Smart?

Despite what one of my friends claims as her only explicable reason for not loving Get Smart, Steve Carrell's latest foray into the comedy scene contained next to none of the despicably overused crotch humor all of decent civilization has finally come to despise.

If you haven't heard about this film...well, first of all, I'm surprised. It got plenty of ad-time, and Steve Carrell is currently a comedy darling. You really should have heard of this movie by now. BUT, if you haven't, here's a very brief description: This is a film adaptation of a popular TV comedy of the same name about a secret spy organization built to combat their evil Soviet counterparts. The movie ends up being your typical action comedy, of which there are simply too few.

Let me rephrase. There are far too few good action comedies. Shanghai NOON, Rush Hour (ONE), The Mummy, and, to some degree, the Indiana Jones movies are all great examples, but there really aren't a lot of them. And when they're done well, they're an absolute blast and a half. I think that no other genre (hybrid or no) can satisfy the need for fun quite like it.

And Get Smart was an awful, awful lot of fun. I haven't laughed that hard in a theater in...oh who knows. I laughed, out loud and often. And by the end of the movie, all I could do was smile. And decide to see it again in the near future.

First of all, this is Steve Carrell at his best. He was perfectly cast for this part, and he doesn't succumb to any predictability in filling the role. I was constantly impressed with the uniqueness of his quirky character.

Anne Hathaway was a much tougher sell because I haven't seen The Devil Wears Prada (I do plan on it, I promise), and so I can't claim to have ever enjoyed watching her on screen. Well, she did a fabulous job in this film. I adored her character. She was professional, capable, sexy, uptight and almost completely believable. Shoot, I even bought the chemistry between her and Steve. Awesome work, dudes (who made this movie.)

The rest of the cast worked great as well. There were no terribly weak spots, to speak of. Even the Rock managed to make me believe, for large segments of the film, that he was actually an actor. Good job, big guy. It was hard for him, but he pulled it off. (And he wasn't starring, which was...well, needless to say it was essential for the success of this movie.)

I could go on. I won't. See this movie. Take the kids, even. Sure, it's PG-13, but this is a family film, as far as I'm concerned. It's one which possesses that rare quality of being accessible and satisfying to almost every type of person. So go have a blast.

Classics

I made a discovery yesterday--or, I guess it would be more accurate to say that I came up with a theory.

It happened while I watched The Mighty Ducks for the first time in...oh...probably fifteen years. So I sat there, really enjoying the movie because, well, DUH it's the Mighty Friggin Ducks! But now I'm a film student.

So what did the film student in me say, you might wonder? (I wondered; you likely did not.) I thought, the cinematography in this movie ain't half bad. And, for an early 90's kids/family movie, the writing could be so MUCH worse than it is.

This is my theory: The movies that endure over the years probably owe a lot to their cinematographers. It's true that the general movie-going crowd probably aren't too focused on the details of composition, angle and focus, but they know when it's good. It just looks good. It feels right and meaningful. That's what good cinematography does--it validates the film.

Of course, it can't compensate for total failures in other areas (I'm thinking of the three recent Star Wars films right now.) But see if you can notice the superior work of an under-respected Director of Photography when you go back to watch some of your favorite classics. They may not be "arty" films, and they may not have been well-received by the critics of their time (or ours), but I'll bet the cinematography is good. Good enough that there are plenty of shots that send little shivers up your spine and make you think, "Man, I love this movie."

HULK SMASH!!!

Great movie. I mean it, I'm serious. I really, really loved The Incredible Hulk.

Several things you should know about this film if you haven't heard already. First, it wasn't Hulk, the 2003 disaster that convinced everyone that making a Hulk movie was a terrible, terrible mistake. And it wasn't that movie's sequel. Or prequel. Or anything. The Incredible Hulk was it's own wonderful film, and it worked on pretty much every level it occupied.

Also, Edward Norton plays Bruce Banner (who becomes a lovable Hulk when angered...or hungered--don't ask, just watch.) Edward Norton is a brilliant actor, and he puts a life and spirit into this part that I can't imagine anyone else pulling off quite as well.

And as for the rest of the performances...no one was lagging. In fact, I would say that the acting was more solid, overall, in this film than it was in Iron Man. Don't get me wrong, Iron Man was the better film, and Robert Downey Jr. blew my brains out with his spectacular performance, but Hulk was more consistent when it came to all of the supporting roles.

But let's be honest. I loved it because it made me want to tear cars apart and throw giant green men through brick walls when it was over. It made me feel like a little boy again.

Why did this film succeed at doing that when Transformers did NOT? Because it takes great filmmaking to put a hyper-critical member of the audience (such as myself) into those shoes, that's why. Transformers was fast, colorful, loud, and extremely large, but Michael Bay's a bit of a hack. He'll even admit it if you corner him. The guys behind Hulk knew what they were doing. They were working with a strong script, strong actors, and an obviously strong affection for the material. What resulted was a little bit like magic.

And, oh yeah, Tony Stark showed up at the end and made everyone giggle like schoolchildren in his presence. Promises of things to come. Let's hope they're not as empty as the minds of the studio executives. Really...let's hope pretty hard.

Gas Prices are Murdering My Family: How You Can Help

So, I've stated that this blog will occasionally be about politics. Well, here goes the first politically tinged post. (I have not forgotten that the second "wonderful" movie I mentioned in my last post has yet to receive my long-awaited review...soon, I promise.)

I subscribe to the Power Line Blog (I have been converted whole-heartedly to RSS Feeds and, by extension, Google Reader), and today, I was directed to this site. It's a petition that says this:

"We, therefore, the undersigned citizens of the United States, petition the U.S. Congress to act immediately to lower gasoline prices (and diesel and other fuel prices)* by authorizing the exploration of proven energy reserves to reduce our dependence on foreign energy sources from unstable countries."

Over 700,000 people have signed so far, I hear. Sure it's a long shot, but if you're tired of gas stations eating your soul, you should click here and put your name down. At least it's something.

My Feet Are Missing

Lately, my Saturdays typically involve watching two movies. Usually, I watch the biggest weekend release (Iron Man, Speed Racer, Prince Caspian, Indiana Jones) and then another one later that night, with no particular method of selection. Just get together with a few people (other film kids, usually) and watch something good.

Well, this last Saturday, there was no movie coming out that I was overly enthused about seeing in the theater, so I ended up watching two rented flicks, approximately ten hours apart. Both of them were (are) absolutely wonderful films, and for vastly different reasons--they're also slightly aged and little known, so I figured it would be good to get some fresh words out about both of them.

First of all, I want to say, quickly, that Water Horse is every bit as bad as you're afraid it will be when you watch the previews. I watched that one Friday night against my will. Luckily I had to ho home before it ended, an unexpected mercy. We were supposed to watch Equilibrium that night, but some of the people there were set on the former.

So Saturday morning rolled around and we finally got to sit down and watch Equilibrium. Christian Bale plays something called a Grammaton Cleric, which is basically a specially trained anti-resistance soldier who can do...well, pretty much anything with guns. The setting is post World War III, and the society that has been built up is sort of "1984"-esque, in that the leader of this particular distopia is referred to as "Father," and, oh yeah, people aren't supposed to feel anything. They are required to take a drug every day that inhibits passion of any kind in order to curb humanity's hate and fear (supposedly that which causes war), while also sacrificing love and true friendship. Those who refuse to take the drug are outcasts and form what is then referred to as the resistance.

There's the plot in summary. This is the kind of film that could have been really, really bad if it had been left to the wrong hands. But let me assure you, my dear reader, that they did it right. Christian Bale is phenomenal, and the action sequences are totally mind-blowing. The slow parts don't drag at all, and the drama is affecting beyond what you might expect. The film has it's flaws--I wouldn't call it perfect or even near unto it--but there are so many spectacularly brilliant scenes and sequences that more than make up for any weaknesses. It was so good that I had to exercise an enormous amount of self-control to not watch it again later that day.

It's rated R purely for violence, but the violence is very Matrix-y. In fact, I think The Matrix was bloodier, and as any Mormon Matrix fan will know, there was no legitimate reason for that film's rating.

This is a must see for any action-movie buff. And it's likely that you haven't seen it, because it came out right between the first two Matrix films, and I think had the same sort of flavor. But it's not a knock off, trust me, and in some ways, Christian Bale's hyper-action sci-fi flick is better. Don't get me wrong, I adore the first Neo film, but John Preston the Grammaton Cleric, First Class, is the real deal.

Blue Whistles are for Little Orange Men with Very Red Blood

I've done it. I've finally figured out what this lil' BLOGE will be about. You might wonder (at least while you're reading this sentence) what conclusions I've reached. Well I'm not telling. You can now read about it in the description section of my BLOGE.

This is what I've been telling people lately (warning: change of subject has occurred): The film program is obnoxious because not only do you have to apply to get into it, you also have to apply to get into the classes you need. Not want, need.

So, essentially, this is how it ends up working out. You apply to get into the college (in this case, BYU). Then, once in the college, you apply to gain access to your particular field of interest (in this case, film). Then, once in the program--into which, by the way, I was only admitted upon my second application--you are required to apply to the classes you have been told you must take to graduate.

I've got this graduation plan, see, that my academic adviser helped me create, which very specifically (and somewhat severely) lists which classes you must take on your chosen track and when. Currently, I'm one semester behind for my next two most important classes, and I've been kind of admitted into them for this coming semester. I'm an alternate. This means that not only have I not been given the assurance that I will be able to take these classes, I've also been denied the luxury of certainty that I will not be able to take these classes. Their advice? Try to arrange a backup schedule just in case you're not admitted. A backup schedule. I'm trying to remind myself why I thought I didn't have time for a minor. At this rate, I'll graduate in 2011, and I'm already, technically, a senior. But, SSHHH. Don't tell anyone. I'm still going around calling myself a junior, like I did last year, and part of the year before. And like I will continue to do for the next two years. No one likes an eternal senior.

I need to put in a word for Mission: Impossible. It's old news (we're now dealing with the measurement of decades, but who's counting), but this is a great movie. For anyone that doesn't like Tom Cruise, I understand you. He's an insufferable person, and Katie Holmes is a foolish little girl for stepping into his demented life. Their poor daughter. BUT, you will go see his movies. People say they don't like Tom Cruise, but theirs will likely be one of the tickets that catapults his films into the $100 million range the first weekend at the box office. Don't hate, people, the guy is a serious, talented actor.

Back to MI. If you haven't seen it, you're over ten years late, but it's not too late, and it never will be. This will be a classic even twenty years from now. So see it. Next time you're at Blockbuster with no clue what you want to see, grab this one first. Then, the following Saturday night (admit it, there's no shame), pick up the third installment--the one that emerged a couple of years ago--because it might be even better than the first. Yes, skip the second. Don't even think about it. Just pretend it's not there, like the 19th floor at Wayside School.

If you have seen the second...listen, I know. I'm sorry. We're both hurting, and we're in the same boat here. I was forced to go see the third movie by a couple of my friends. But at the time, I didn't know who J.J. Abrams was. And I can personally guarantee that John Woo, bless his cinematically adulterous little heart, had absolutely nothing to do with the last film. He came, he devastated M:I 2, and then he left. And then Abrams came and gave us art. Thanks J.J. Now hurry up and see this movie so you can join in my gratitude. The man deserves some respect.

Hoo-RAH for the longest post yet. (The next will be shorter. Maybe.)

Mostly because I haven't posted in a while

I learned recently that I've been fired. Well anyway, that's what one of my friends told me, her explanation being that she had wasted, collectively, five minutes of her life over the past month checking for new posts, of which there were, clearly, none.

I haven't thought of anything of ground-breaking significance to write about, so I'll have to fall back on something mediocre. Or maybe a disorderly assortment of mediocre things. Yes, that's more likely.

I watched Star Wars: Episode III yesterday for the second time in my life. My opinion of it has remained unchanged. Essentially, it is much like the kind of girl I try very hard not to date: Very pretty, but also very dumb.

Let me be very clear on one point--I do not like George Lucas. I don't care how great he is at telling a story, visually or otherwise. I have a feeling that there are quite a lot of much better people who, with the kind of money and power Lucas has been granted over the years, could do just as well with their own imaginations. Especially if they studied Westerns and Eastern mythology as thoroughly as Lucas has--but that's beside the point.

My problem is the writing. In each of the three new movies, the average-at-best, regrettably-silly-at-worst writing makes the story seem trite and unfortunate at almost every turn.

"The Sith only care about themselves. The Jedi are selfless."

Gee, really? This kind of on-the-nose dialog is exactly what you hope not to see in a 113 million dollar movie. I cringe when I hear that kind of thing in student films. Come ON, George!

To be fair, no one should be condemned for not being able to write well. However, to insist upon exclusive artistic control, as Lucas famously has for this franchise, including writing and directing every line in the script for a movie that meant so much to an entire generation...that, my friends, makes bad writing a shameful, damning sin.

Contrast this with the newest Indiana film. That one was right on par with the old films. Just as corny, just as silly, yes, but also just as fun, just as action packed, and just as witty. Thank you, Spielberg, for possessing some level of professionalism. You know what his big secret probably was? Collaboration. I doubt that word has a place in George Lucas's lexicon. Pity.

On a more personal note, I'm coming closer to finishing the second draft for my as yet still unnamed novel. I was coming to something of a standstill recently, so I decided to start something new. Who knows if the new project will ever go anywhere, but to any writers who find themselves reading this long, pointless post--let me here officially support working on multiple projects. No one should ever devote all of his or her time and energy to ONE novel. 'Cause that novel would end up, inevitably, as a piece of forgettable refuse. Diversity!

I believe I have now fulfilled my self-assigned quota of "a disorderly assortment of mediocre things."

Shameless Promotions (that no one will read...)

This post was going to be an anti-flaky diatribe (one in which I would make everyone, including myself, feel horribly guilty about not being dependable about anything). Instead, I want to enjoy what I write.

First off, I finally watched Pan's Labyrinth last night. Here's my short review:

The film was brutally beautiful. I put off seeing it for quite a while because of its rating (I don't often watch R-rated movies), waiting to find out if it was worth an exception. After enough research, I decided that it was. I'm glad I did. Let me first make clear that this film well-deserved its rating. I read about its content on KidsinMind.com (which is a great site for careful Mormons such as myself), and was not overly concerned about what I read. Nothing could have prepared me for the way that content was presented, however. It's a relatively bloody film, to be sure, but nothing worse than you'd see in a lot of other movies. What was difficult about this film was how emotionally jarring some of these scenes were. Rather than making me sick, the brutality displayed by some of the characters, one in particular, brought me close to tears. And in the center of all this ugliness--caused in the main by a select few--were characters of such profound goodness and depth that not once could I look away from the stark reality they had to face. The basic idea of transcendence in art is that light is best perceived when surrounded by darkness. Labyrinth is quintessential transcendentalism. We are dragged through the mud (literally, at one point) so that we may see with perfect clarity the beauty of life. This one's going to be with me for a long, long time.

This won't be news to anyone who knows me, but...Thrice is my favorite band. The 3rd and 4rd volumes of "The Alchemy Index" came out yesterday, and I, of course, bought them without a second thought. I've been listening to the first two volumes, Fire and Water, for about six months, waiting in focused anticipation for the other two, Air and Earth, to finally be released. Was it worth the wait? Yes. Let me just say that Dustin Kensrue is one of the most talented singer/songwriters of this generation, and Thrice might turn out to be one of the most important bands of this decade. I won't go into a detailed review of their complex and overwhelming project, but I will say....

Actually, I don't even know what to say. It is such a profound musical accomplishment that I am left speechless. OK, I know what to tell you: No matter who you are, at least one part of the Index will appeal to you. This is, to my knowledge, the most diverse record ever produced. So. Buy it.

That is all.

The fear of boredom

I go to college, work on films, go to church, sing in a choir, spend time with friends, date (sporadically), watch a LOT of movies, read books, work a great job, and, sometimes, when I'm being very productive, work on my novel or engage in other creative literary enterprises. And still, 90% of the time, I'm either bored or stressed that I'm not doing enough with my life. This is why I'm a film student, which both solves and worsens the problem. If I'm looking to legitimize my life, then it often seems counterintuitive to pick this, of all things, to study in college. However, I'm less confident in film's power to bore than I am in almost anything else. So it appears I'm stuck.

I'm so open now because I can be pretty certain that few people will read this. Look how brave I am.

Scotland Rocks

Not that I know very much about this cool little country, but what I do know, I love. And what I know is this dude named Joshua Barton, who is one of the most astonishingly great people I've met in the course of my life. He's a mission buddy, and we've kept in touch for a couple of years now. What motivated this post? An email.

Really, this all just boils down to a few moments of reflection on my part on how valuable friendships can be. Defying reason and lacking evidence, the naive boy still believes that my friendship is worth something. This doesn't bother me at all, because his actually is. I would describe Josh Barton's virtues, but I don't have enough time, and besides, I want more to emphasize transcendently uplifting associations, instead of soliloquizing specific people. I have a number of amazing friends, without whom my life would be as good as sunk.

That's all.

To Mayor Bates of the City of Berkeley

Mayor Bates,

It seems counterintuitive to me that a community would impose sanctions against the very government which allows and even fights for its constituents' freedoms of speech and expression. If Code Pink is allowed and even encouraged to protest according to their ideals and understanding, shouldn't the military be allowed (and, dare I say encouraged?) to promote its agenda within the same community?

I would love to spend a great deal of time describing why I believe your policies to be profoundly ignorant, stubborn and contemptible. Instead, I'll just ask you what you think might happen if every community in this nation chose the same course you have chosen in this matter? If the military finds its numbers diminished by actions such as these to the point that its viability is jeopardized, do you think that our government would (or should) permanently sacrifice our strength of arms and succumb to the hostility of our enemies? I think it would be far more likely that the draft would be reinstated. A volunteer military (which is inherently enabled by recruiting offices) is the strongest and best kind of military. However, a drafted army is better than no army. To come out against recruiting efforts is to show unintentional support for either no military or a drafted one. It's short-sighted and politically selfish.

I also wonder what the reaction will be among those who didn't already hate the Marines. Perhaps those sitting on the line of whether they would volunteer their service to the military and its current policies will be swayed by this sudden shift in positions. You have painted the recruiters as the underdog, which will likely encourage support they might not have otherwise had.

If you've gotten this far, I'll summarize by saying that your actions are both shameful and totally unbefitting a democratic leader in this great nation.

Yes, I'm naming this "First Post"

So I got this blog, here. I want to say something like, "I told myself I would never do this, but..."
BUT, I don't think that's true. Earlier today, one of my coworkers said, "I've been meaning to start a blog, but..."
And then I said, "Hey, maybe I should do a blog."
And he said, "Yeah, you totally should. It's way easy."
And I said, "Yeah, good idea, I will."
Now here I am. Do I feel dumb? A little. I'm reminded of my opinion of blogs years ago when they were emerging as the next great Internet revolution. I thought to myself, "Do people actually expect anyone to read or care about their stupid online journal?"
Well, no, they don't. I grew up a little since then and figured out why these things are useful. It saves me updating my faraway friends on my life over the phone.
That way, when people ask me, "So what's up with your life these days?" I can reply, with some amount of pride, and perhaps a slightly greater measure of embarrassment, "Oh, just check out my website. Friend." (Because it's likely that I will have forgotten this person's name.)
No, it's not a website, but I'll call it that because I've always been and will probably always be far too lazy to create the real thing for myself.
I'm feeling like this first post is proving to be long-winded and mostly pointless, so I think I'll go ahead and stop.