Saturday, October 13, 2012
In describing the ick of a particular brand of instant coffee, a friend used the expression "I wanted to stick my tongue up a cat's ass to get the taste out of my mouth." Yesterday I watched the new series 'Beauty & the Beast' on the CW network. I wasn't a huge fan of the late 80s (I think) B&theB, but it had Ron Perlman and Ron Perlman makes everything better. This revisit to that show--because remaking Nightrider, Bionic Woman and V did SO well--does not have Ron Perlman. It has Kristin Kreuk. She was on Smallville, where she was interesting for all of 35 minutes. She is the Jessica Alba of her generation. What I'm saying is she's not even convincing splashing water on her face for makeup commercials. Additionally, the show is on the CW network, which is pretty much glitter on a monkey's ass. Nail in the coffin: it proved itself so devoid of creativity that it actually used the "droplets o' verisimilitude" blood spray on the camera lens during what I think was supposed to be an intense fight scene but was instead a hyper-kinetic, random splotch of grunt noises. I laughed out loud. This is the kind of show where you pretty much have the entire first season written scene for scene in your head before the first commercial break. Nutshell rundown since I brought itup: Doc's brother died in Twin Towers. Doc's all "I will avenge you, bro!" so gets a hard on for some Iraqi invasion. Army's like, psst, secret super soldier program over here, son, get you some. Doc's all hell yeah. Problems and complications ensue. Army decides to put kibosh on beast soldiers. Kill some, not all. Kristin's mom and Kristin attacked not too long afterward; yes, Mom is connected, Kristin, you dummy. Shaving Commercial Beast Guy in shadowy beast mode saves Kristin but Mom gets all dead. Kristin develops thing for dogs. Flash forward, Kristin now a cop, a petite, pretty, edgy cop haunted and driven to solve the mystery of the beast and her mother's murder. Well, as edgy as Kristin can get. She furrows her brow a lot. Has a tough talking Latina partner and a black police chief with shoe polish on his head instead of hair and more toning makeup on his pretty face than Kristin. Brother looks unreal. Both supporting characters get to say the usual sidekick/black police chief stuff. Kristin gets to eye-emote. Blah blah blah, crap about a new murder case, cop, cop, introduce comedic scientist helping Shave Guy find cure, Kristin meets Shave Guy,fight scene, Kristin saved yet again by beast guy, shadowy FBI dudes, get all Twilight for a minute to show Kristin and Shave are destined to really inconvenient romance, Stay away, No, I...I have to wait three more episodes before I say I love you, Ok, but I'm gonna be your protector in the night up on this rooftop, I'll feel your presence, I know you will, No it's too early for sexual tension, I'm a beast man; I'm nothing but sexual tension, Here, stare at me in this beautiful, low-cut gown. Aaaaaannnd... Scene! It was Friday. I was comfortable. I didn't want to get up. TV was on. What I'm saying is don't watch this with your cat.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Writers can be skittish things, and every now and then require a quick slap in the face. Ru Freeman reminded me of the definition of a writer. There’s no such thing as a writer who sells a lot of books, or a writer of note and stature. They’re fictions. Useful ones in their way but fictions. Anything that follows the word “writer” is mere addendum; the root remains apart, for there are those of us who see and speak the truths as we see them in order to process those truths, and there are those of us who do not feel that same compulsion, that need to express the invisible with the same initial confusion of the original (biblical) Word. No one demands a farmer define himself. Writers would do well to emulate that notion. You are a writer when you write. That’s the seed and root of it. Rise in the morning and plow your fields. I don’t often wax philosophical, but when I do I wax Sartre. Stay conjectural, my friends.