Categories
movie

[Movie] X-Men: Days of Future Past

I don’t actually have too many major thoughts on this movie, other than gosh it was a nice gift to all us Charles/Erik shippers. (/cough) It was explodey and colorful and pretty much everything I’ve come to expect from one of these movies, which is in some ways good and in some ways bad. I thought it was well-shot, the soundtrack was…all right but I won’t run out and buy it like I did for X-Men: First Class. No complaints about any of the actors. This movie definitely takes the promise (and apology) of X-Men: First Class and delivers on it.

Stuff that made me happy:

  • While I wanted more Mystique, I loved the fact that the plot ultimately hinges on her. And not just on her, but on the choices she makes of her own free will. The plot easily could have gone that bullshit place where, say, Mystique was captured and she had to be rescued or something, but it didn’t. That made me happy. Also, while at times it felt that Erik and Charles were trying to frame things as some sort of choice between them, she ultimately made her own decision and walked out under her own power. I appreciated that immensely.
  • Loved all the new mutants.
  • I actually really liked Quicksilver and I’d been kind of dreading him from the moment I saw the costume design and seriously what the fuck was his hair. But the whole bit of the movie that involved him was excellent, and fun, and I loved how they also did the special effects for it. The entire prison break subplot was definitely my favorite part of the movie.
  • Peter Dinklage was excellent as Trask (and as Mystique pretending to be Trask on one occasion). He does a very banal sort of evil well and makes an excellent villain. The movie also never went the cheap route and explicitly tried to make his actions about his dwarfism. Also, excellently tailored suits.
  • So much epic bromance with Charles and Erik, and in two different time periods. It was lovely, and the four actors involved were amazing, leaving absolutely no on surprised.

Stuff that really could have been better:

  •  I think they did Mystique’s makeup/costume differently for this movie than First Class, and I can’t say I liked it. In close-ups, there was a weird lack of texture to it that just bothered me.
  • For all that I loved them, we didn’t get to see much of the new mutants. And most of what we did see involved them getting slaughtered. And considering that most of the cast diversity was seen in that group, that made me very sad.
  • And because of the above point, Mystique was functionally the only developed female character in the film. And she was awesome, don’t get me wrong, but I still found that immensely disappointing. There are just so many amazing women in the X-Men universe.
  • Still not over the fact that they decided to have Wolverine go back in time instead of Kitty. Yes, they came up with a reasonable(ish) bullshit reason to do it within the movie plot. But still.
  • Wish that there’d been a bit more actual 70s in the costume and set design, or maybe I’ve just got the wrong idea about what the 70s looked like since I wasn’t actually alive back then. It just didn’t seem nearly colorful enough in that sense.

All in all, I’m feeling pretty optimistic about the next movie, which definitely puts this one way ahead of X-men 2. (Before the credits had even started rolling on that one, I’d already decided I wasn’t going to see X-Men 3.) And it’s going to be Apocalypse! Which could be… interesting. Cautious optimism. Here’s hoping we’ll get more of the amazing female mutants than just Mystique next time around.

Categories
charity suffering for charity

Give money to charity, make Rachael suffer through Transformers 4!

All right. You bastards tried to take me down four months ago, and I came up swinging. But I sense a new challenger on the horizon. Something far stronger than the combined might of iffy geology and Kiefer Sutherland in a toga twirling his non-existent mustache. Something that involves a lot of T&A and even more CGI. Something that may just redistribute my posterior through the power of sheer, unapologetic badness1. That’s right, I’m talking about this:


By the glistening biceps of Mark Wahlberg! What has humanity wrought?

So this is the deal, guys. I’m going to make you work for it this time. Considering the neuron-bending things that Transformers 3 did to me (literally, I watched it and now cannot remember what happened, like the movie slipped me roofies or something and we are just not going to contemplate that further) I’m not going down without a fight. It’s the fourth movie in this series, so I think $400 sounds like a fair goal. You have 22 days to make it happen.

And make no mistake. If you don’t donate sufficient money to charity, I will not be seeing this one anyway. Not even when it’s on Netflix. (Though I’ll admit right now that since Steve Jablonsky wrote the score for this one too, I’ll be buying that.) The only way you’re going to be able to treat your ears to my shrieks of indignant outrage is if you donate, donate, donate!

Same rules apply as always: donate to one of the charities listed below, tell me via some sort of social media that you did so (we operate on the honor system here), and I will tally up the moneys on this here blog page, right before your eyes. What’s on offer if you raise:

  • $400: I will see the stupid movie within a week of it coming out and write you a rant similar to what I did for Pompeii. (I’ll be at SoonerCon, so I can’t guarantee opening weekend.)
  • $500: I will go to the midnight showing of this cinematic CGI turd on June 27 and be a gibbering, mind-melted zombie at the office on Friday as a lesson to all my coworkers that this is what happens when you watch a Michael Bay film, and you should really make better life choices.
  • $700: And I will go see it on opening night, IN 3D. I fucking hate 3D.

Sound good? Charities for this round of suffering:

BRING IT.

AND WE’RE OFF. CURRENT TOTAL: $400/500

DAMN YOU SADISTIC BASTARDS: [No really, thank you!!!]

  • Keeley: $50
  • Anonymous: $300 (OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!!!!)
  • @bogo_lode: $50

 

 

 

1 – Yeah, that’s right. I just made a really bad statistics joke. WHATCHA GONNA DO ABOUT IT?

Categories
science fiction sexism

The Shrill Sound of Not Shutting Up

So I was just thinking this morning, about how back in my undergrad days I wrote a paper wherein I mentioned that use of the adjective shrill to describe a person can be generally considered a red flag for sexism. That class involved peer critiques, and I subsequently had a male classmate who took a lot of umbrage to that statement explain to me, in a very animated way, how I was totally wrong.

Because, yanno. Shrill just gets used to describe women more because our voices are higher pitched than men’s. So when we’re loud it’s even more high pitched. It’s just accurate.

Yeah, dude, you’re right. I don’t know what could possibly be sexist at all about implying that the very pitch of our voices is grating when we’re being loud, as in: saying things you don’t like. (Seriously, has anyone ever been described as shrill in a positive way?) And it gets applied to men too, so it can’t be sexist! (Because goodness knows, men have never been insulted by the implication that they act/sound like women.) I’m sure there is absolutely nothing demeaning about a strongly voiced fact or opinion being reduced, in effect, to nothing more than an annoying sound.

You know. It’s not what you’re saying. It’s just the way you’re saying it. Being all loud and stuff. It hurts my delicate ears. Can’t you be sweeter?

Of course, recollections like these don’t just float up out of the blue. My brain got wrenched in that direction last night thanks to Tangent Online’s special review of the Women Destroy Scifi issue of Lightspeed.

First off: oh my gosh the reviewer said nice things about my story, AAAAAAAAAAAAAA, (she screeched with shrill delight. Huh. Doesn’t really work, does it?)

Generally speaking, the reviews are solid; while I’ve disagreed with various reviewers from time to time, I think the site does yeoman’s work when it comes to sorting through the massive number of short stories out there. (With occasional notable exception.) Where it just gets kind of special is in the response to Christie Yant’s introduction, and then David Truesdale’s “closing thoughts,” which could be better titled Oh you silly lady writers, being all wrong about everything and stuff.

I’m not going to really wade into this. Natalie Luhrs, Amal El-Mohtar, and E. Catherine Tobler already did an amazing job at their respective sites and you should go read those. I just want to point out one thing. In the entire special review, the word shrill gets used twice. (Emphasis in both quotes added by me.)

Once by Martha Burns:

In addition, the authors play with tropes regarding femininity and don’t worry that the decision makes one too much or not enough of a feminist. They do not have to worry that the project makes one shrill. Voila. And the stories work.

(Which is a very positive statement that, I think, acknowledges the historic use of the word.)

And then once by Dave Truesdale:

The sad thing, and this is something I can’t help but fear, is that the closer these hypothetical weary travelers get to the SF community down there in the plush valley, looking to find rest, refreshment, and perhaps a place to call home, what they will first hear wafting up on the wind from that village in the valley below are cries and exhortations that it is not a nice place to visit, much less to consider making it a home. The shrill cries of racism!, sexism!, and homophobia lives here!, Beware and stay away!, will drive the travelers away before the decent folk of the village have a chance to tell them how life really is, there in their village where all are welcome and the occasional ne’er-do-wells are shown the road out of town.

“Shrill cries” is pretty much the summation of Truesdale’s characterization of the various in-genre blow-ups of the last couple of years–which was at its most basic one of the major motivating forces for the existence of this anthology and its resounding success on Kickstarter. Apparently not only are we totally wrong, we’re incredibly loud and annoying while we’re at it. His poor, delicate ears.

Considering Ms. Burns had only just said that we “do not have to worry that the project makes one shrill…” Well.

Hopes: dashed. I love the smell of irony in the morning.

(Have I mentioned the Women Destroy Scifi issue of Lightspeed? Because you should totally go buy it.)

Categories
convention

ArmadilloCon Schedule

Yes, I will be at ArmadilloCon this year, and here’s my schedule!

TV Shows You Should Be Watching – Fri 11:00 PM-Midnight Room D

There are some very good science fiction and fantasy shows out there.  Do you need to update your recorder?

Watch Out for that Plothole! – Sat 10:00 AM-11:00 AM Room E

Our panelists give you tips and advice on fixing the plotholes in your works.

Alcoholic Drinks in Fiction – Sat 5:00 PM-6:00 PM Room F

Discussing the drinks mentioned in stories, movies and tv.

Reading – Sat 11:00 PM-Midnight Southpark A

I know it’s late, BUT THERE WILL BE COOKIES.

Women in Science – Sun 1:00 PM-2:00 PM Room D

While more women are getting noticed, has this led to more women in science.  The trials and tribulations of making it in a field full of goofy, nerdy men.

Categories
science fiction squee writing

So then the squee happened.

I literally had just gotten in the door from work, was rushing to try to get my computer set up so I could say mean things about Godzilla (2014) on the Skiffy and Fanty show (which is a whole other bit squee right there) when my phone rang. Scaring the crap out of me in the process.

It was Christie Yant. This is the first time in my life I have been called about any kind of writer-type thing. And Christie wanted to talk to me about Women Destroy Scifi. Namely that they needed another story for the print edition and she loved my story that she had to turn down so much, that was the one she wanted and then I think she might have said some other things but I couldn’t hear her over my brain going OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(And all I have to do is be able to do quick turn around on the edits tomorrow. Sister, for a chance to destroy science fiction, I WOULD DO MY EDITS WITH FEET WHILE BALANCING ON MY FREAKING HANDS AND SINGING LATIN HIPHOP FOR YOU.)

So I get to destroy scifi with my sistren after all. AND I STILL GET TO BE IN LIGHTSPEED. YES. I JUST SOLD THE SAME STORY TWICE TO LIGHTSPEED. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

And that was my Friday night. I think I win.

Categories
feminism someone is wrong on the internet

Sibling bonding in the modern age, Or: My brother and I get lost down the MRA rabbit hole together

So yeah, this was a thing that happened on twitter today and kind of ate my afternoon. Mostly because I saw someone saying incredibly stupid shit  about women/feminism to my older brother and like any good little sister, I rolled up my sleeves and waded in. And then it just kind of went down this strange rabbit hole that involves communism and… I just can’t even describe it. It’s sure a thing. Well, I guess at least this gave me a chance to do some real sibling bonding with my brother, as we both marveled again and again at wow would you just get a load of this fuckin’ guy.

I haven’t had that much to say specifically in the wake of the hate crime that went down in Isla Vista yesterday. I haven’t really had anything beyond mute horror, and anger, and sickened disbelief. I’ve been watching the #YesAllWomen tag on twitter but haven’t had anything really to contribute because I’ve lead a really charmed life, to be honest. I’ve been lucky.

And then you find yourself arguing with some random dude on Twitter who is offended–offended!–that everyone is talking about misogyny when there were guys murdered to and that’s totally misandry and therefore… something. (Never mind that functionally, those men were also murdered because of misogyny; if the murderer hadn’t gone on his little hate crime spree they would all still be alive.) And I’m a penis-envying wanna-be man for disagreeing with him.

But I finally do have something to add to #YesAllWomen, because this has reminded me of the every day bullshit I do get exposed to, and I don’t even notice it any more because when you’re swimming in water, how do you know if you’re wet?

#YesAllWomen get told our experiences are invalid, irrational, or not good enough because we’re women.

#YesAllWomen get told that every time something terrible happens to women, we should stop acting like it’s a problem because it happens to men too.

#YesAllWomen get told that our anger is invalid because we don’t start off by praising the “good men” involved first.

#YesAllWoman get told that we’re being oversensitive or we just don’t understand what people mean when yes, we fucking understand harassment when it’s happening to us.

#YesAllWomen get dismissed because we are “snotty bitches” who “hate men” and have “penis envy” and that’s a good enough reason to not listen to us.

#YesAllWomen know that we’re lucky if this is all the bullshit we ever get hit with because it gets so, so very worse from here.

Categories
geeky stuff

How do they rise?

How do they rise up?

Categories
my exciting life silly texas

In which my housemate saves my life

So no shit, there I was.

Which is to say, I was in my bedroom, because I needed to take a shower and wash the gel out of my hair. I turned on the light, and there was a thing on the wall above my fucking bed. A big, brown thing. It had approximately five million legs and a switchblade. It was a cockroach. A fucking cockroach. And not just a little one. One of the Texas-sized ones. You know, these.

I need you to understand something. I grew up in Colorado. Until forced to move to Texas, I literally had only seen one cockroach “in the wild” in my entire life. And that was an incredibly well-fed german cockroach in a super sketchy Chinese buffet. I am not psychologically prepared to handle this shit.

Which explains the next thing I did, namely scream, “KATHY, I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW. RIGHT NOW. KATHY. KATHY. COME HERE.”

My housemate, bless her forever, hurtled into my room. Yes, that sure was a massive cockroach that was SCURRYING DOWN MY WALL AND AAAAA

There was an undignified scramble to grab the vacuum cleaner, because that’s apparently an amazing way to kill giant cockroaches. Then we had to figure out how to get the long tool attached. Then THE COCKROACH WAS ON THE FLOOR OH MY GOD and Kathy tried to suck it up with the vacuum but it ran under the file cabinet.

Suddenly I was like that guy in the action movie. You know, the guy who gets sent to open the door that the evil alien monster is drooling behind by a jerk of the chin from the guy who has the BFG? I HAVE SEEN THESE MOVIES. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO THAT GUY OKAY. Carefully I turned the little file cabinet over. Nothing. “Open the drawer,” Kathy ordered. I righted the cabinet and, very carefully, opened the drawer. THESE MOTHERFUCKERS CAN FLY OKAY.

The cockroach ran across the files in the drawer. I totally didn’t scream.

(She totally screamed.)

Kathy thrust the vacuum cleaner attachment into my hand and I tried to get the roach as she ran out of the room and LEFT ME ALONE OH GOD WHY. But the roach was wily, and strong, and it called me a bitch and spat at my feet as it ran out across the carpet, murder glinting in its evil little eyes. I got it a good one with the attachment, but then THE ROACH JUST RAN RIGHT BACK OUT OF THE FUCKING HOSE OKAY THIS ROACH WAS WEARING DEPLETED URANIUM ARMOR OR SOMETHING.

As my life flashed before my eyes Kathy charged back into the room, shoe in one hand, can of Pledge in the other. With a mighty battle cry of “LEMONY FRESH, MOTHERFUCKER!” she sprayed the roach with furniture polish. It slowed the ravening beast and then, at great risk to her own life, she beat it to death with her shoe.

And that is the story of how my housemate saved my life tonight.

(The cockroach was subsequently buried at sea.)

Categories
rants

Art Matters

So there’s something that’s been getting on my tits for a really long time (basically ever since people started really loudly pointing out the dearth of people of color and women in mass media) and I think I finally figured out why. It’s that common refrain of “It’s just a stupid action movie/comic book/pulpy novel/badly written TV show, why are you getting so uptight about it?”

I’m not even going to touch on the idea of representation being important. Hundreds of other people have talked about this much better than I ever could. No, what’s bugging the shit out of me is this attitude of “It’s just crappy mass media, it doesn’t matter.”

Well, let me tell you a thing. It does matter. Of course it fucking matters. Because art matters.

Maybe there’s just some kind of weird disconnect where people don’t quite get that mass media is art. But art doesn’t exist in some rarefied isolation that’s confined to museums, or only if it’s deemed worthy by some sort of cabal of people with excellent taste.  That’s not how it works. Most of the art we’re going to interact with throughout our lives will be mass media, in all its often cheesy or shittastic glory, because that’s what’s out there, and easy to get, and frankly fun. Fun stuff is also art, you know? 

Popular art is still art. Art you don’t like or don’t get is still art. Deliberately pandering art is still art. Mass market paperbacks are art. Comics are art. Movies are art. And while that means, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey is art, so is (god help us all) Sharknado. It was still created by us, and consumed by us, and says a hell of a lot about who we are as human beings whether we like it or not.

So yeah, when someone says that I shouldn’t care about Movie X because it’s just the crapulent summer special effects tentpole, what I hear is: “God, shut up, it’s not like art matters.”

No wonder I get so pissed off. Because art does fucking matter.

Categories
movie

Godzilla 2014 (Oh look, another movie about white men.)

I have a lot of feelings about this movie. A lot of feelings. Spoiler: Many of them are not terribly positive. Just so I can mentally organize this, I’m going to split it into parts.

NOTE: for the purposes of this long, long rant, I will be using Gojira to mean the original 1954 Japanese movie as released in Japan. And I will be referring to the monster as Godzilla when not specifically in that movie because it’s the generally agreed-upon romanization.

Also, there are spoilers throughout. But get real. If you go to this movie, you’re not watching it for the plot.

Continue reading “Godzilla 2014 (Oh look, another movie about white men.)”