Month: November 2013

a little lite rambling about Almost Human and Agents of SHIELD

It’s no secret I like science fiction. I like superhero stories, too. And fantasy, though I make no excuses for a mild dislike of Lord of the Rings. I think it’s like a million pages too long.

I know, a bunch of people just judged me and found me lacking.

Anyway, what Tolkien gets right (among other things — I know the work, I just don’t like it) is the authenticity of the relationships. The characters are likable and believable, and their actions are plausible in my world of suspension of disbelief.

I’m not necessarily drawn by special effects or explosions or cool gadgetry, though it’s entertaining enough. I like good strong characters, the more flawed, the more human, the better.

Which is why I mourned the cancelation of Firefly, stood by X-Files after the sixth season, stuck with Star Trek and all the iterations, including Voyager, when the less popular Deep Space Nine was better. It’s why I stood in line to watch a midnight showing of X-Men, forgave George Lucas for crappy writing, and hope for a reconciliation in the cinema world so Spider-Man can return to the Avengers.

It’s why I’m loving Agents of SHIELD even though many are complaining that none of the heroes show up. Well, consider this, the real stories are not the super heroes, but the regular heroes…the folks who have no super powers except those qualities such as sacrifice and love of neighbor that have them respond heroically. And by the way, the show is about Coulson, and his “humanity.” Is he now a cyborg or what? I’m enjoying the hints about his death and resurrection after the battle of New York. Give it a few more episodes, Father Roderick, I think you’ll learn to love the series enough to explore its Secrets [wink].

Which brings me to Almost Human. I’m loving it after only three episodes, partly because of the concept and mostly because of the developing relationship between Detective John Kennex, and his cyborg partner Dorian. Dorian is almost human in his response to things. It’s making for some hilarious exchanges. It’s a tired old trope in science fiction, but I think people return to the idea of computers with artificial intelligence and the development of robots with emerging human qualities to be an interesting way to explore the human condition.

We’re quick to assume that the real exploration takes place in the robot’s development of human qualities, but I think it’s the opposite, that the robot serves as a foil for the human to explores his own humanity. I saw an inkling in this as John Kennex and Dorian begin to bond after the first episode, and Kennex, especially, demonstrates an unwillingness to trust, and in many respects, a rejection of life because of depression after losing his partner. By the third episode, in which Dorian risks his “life” to save human hostages, Dorian’s regret at being close to destruction elicits empathy from Kennex, who observes the end of life is, indeed, tragic.

It flirts a little with the idea that all life precious. Whether or not Kennex attributes this appreciation for Dorian’s consciousness which does not have a soul, in a reflective moment, he begins his own healing. Coulson has a similar revelation in Agents of SHIELD when he risks his life to stay with a man until the very last minute so he does not die alone. There’s great humanity in that.

I look forward to both series unfolding and hope I’m not disappointed in the themes that develop.

the gold finally got here!

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A few days ago I was whining about the leaves not changing fast enough for my liking. It’s been an exercise in patience, for sure. Sometimes, okay, often I am impatient, wanting things immediately, like a little child. Lucky for me my friend, St. Teresa of Avila, reminds me that I need to trust God in all things, even in adversity, even when things aren’t going on the timeline that I want.

Let nothing trouble you / Let nothing frighten you
Everything passes / God never changes
Patience / Obtains all
Whoever has God / Wants for nothing
God alone is enough.

in which Twitter inspires a poem

Heaven smells like
brown sugar and cinnamon,
Don’t you think?

And if it doesn’t,
what then?

It must smell like
fresh rain, then.
Or my grandmas’s kitchen
on a Saturday afternoon.

It could smell like a baby
after a warm bath,
part soap,
part lotion,
part angel.

Or firewood
on a cold night.

Salty air
at the beach.

A field of wildflowers
on a breezy day.

Heaven, I think,
will smell like home.

just another sepia evening

Screen Shot 2013-11-19 at 8.31.29 PM

A few days ago on Catholic Weekend I mentioned to my pals on the show that somehow the leaves hadn’t peaked here. I figured everything would just turn brown and then it would be winter.

I was delighted to capture this picture on my way home. There’s a little causeway that crosses a small lake in my neighborhood and I cross it twice, on the way in, and on the way out. Although I took this picture and played with a filter and some cropping, I failed  to see the beauty in it.

Oh, sure, I saw something beautiful that I wanted to capture. I finally saw the leaves changing color. I saw the reflection in the still water. But I didn’t see it.

I posted the picture to Twitter, more out of reflex than any real thought, and then a tweet from a friend gave me pause.  She asked if I got to see that EVERY DAY.

Yes. I just don’t pay attention.

It was one of those moments that are thought provoking, and possibly a little life changing.  A gentle reminder to be a little more present to the world around me. Thanks.

 

 

a break, and a found poem

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I put my pen down
and took a walk
looked up
played with birds
who played with me
watched leaves fall
spoke to a squirrel
jumped in some leaves
followed the birds
from tree to tree
they led me where
I need to go

I ate pistachios
made some soup
tormented the dog
took a nap
in a hammock
smelled the flowers
played a song or two
sat on a swing
and picked up my pen

two old birds

photo-2

I took this picture on my phone early in the morning. I’m not a fan of the grainy filter, but there you have it. It’s the two birds that captured my imagination, anyway. They made me laugh, like they were having a conversation.

It’s hard for me not to personify them and imagine lovers sharing a secret. Or two friends confiding in each other.

I thought about these birds long after I took the picture because I couldn’t get out of my mind how human they seemed to me. They’re out in the middle of this lake, standing on a broken tree branch or something, surrounded by water. They have only each other. I imagine how a moment of intimacy like this can transpire between two people who love each other.

I know; they’re only birds. And we’re only human.

It reminded me of the people in my life that I can turn to and whisper a secret, share a confidence, or ask for help.

“What good is confiding one’s pains, miseries and regrets to those to whom one cannot say at the end, ‘pray for me’?”

Elisabeth Leseur

so my pop is sending me stuff again for the blog

I keep telling him he needs to get his own blog, but I guess he figures if he’s persistent in sending me all kinds of shit oops, stuff, that I’ll get around to finding something I like and posting it.

Don’t tell him I like it, cuz then he’ll just send more, and we have him on a strick diet of only three email forwards a day. I don’t want to be the cause for his breaking this discipline. The rest of the family will blame me.

So, here’s a pretty little serenade he sent me. Cielito Lindo is a widely known song, but the term itself is a sweet little endearment. Enjoy it.

But you know, he can’t send me a sweet little serenade like that without my responding with one of my own. So here’s an homage to his love…which includes a few things I learned to love through him…jazz, guitar, percussion, but most importantly, I learned where there is love.

Gravity, and a song

space

I finally saw the visually stunning Gravity, a masterpiece for this child of 70s era science fiction. The effects were everything that people oohed and aahed about, and more. This, from the teenager who watched Star Wars over and over again and stood in line for hours to capture that long shot of the USS Enterprise in one of the lamest Star Trek movies ever made.

For this lover of sic-fi, space shots are eye candy. I saw it in an IMAX setting, and I’m still flinching from the debris field. So yes, this film captures what I’ve always imagined space to be. I won’t even stress over the fiction part, as I’ve heard people talk about the impossibility of the premise. Science fiction people.

But the thing that science fiction almost always gets right, no matter how cheesy the effects, is the human condition. Sci-fi as a vehicle for this analysis tends to work because it removes us, the frail, often broken and weak humans, from our comfortable surroundings and puts us in a position to face those weaknesses and dig deeper to find ourselves, who we are, who we can become.

I don’t suppose there’s anything more isolating than being alone in space. Even if you are out with a team, it’s still you against the universe, cocooned (or shipwrecked) in your own personal life-supporting suit. Gravity gives us this experience in spades — space is the perfect place for introspection. The backdrop of silence and eternity lends itself to a melancholic exploration of our mortality.

And here’s the thing, when faced with this end, do we choose hope or despair? Do we fight for the preciousness of life or do we give in to our fears and perish? Can we get past the creeping nihilism personified by Ryan, who, having experienced a deep tragedy in her life, merely “drives” on auto-pilot, with no meaning in her life? Or can we be like Matt, always looking for the prize (or vodka) at the end of the journey?

We don’t get any answers. But the questions raised are compelling enough to keep me wondering about my own journey. I’m not giving away a giant spoiler to reveal that Ryan doesn’t know how to pray, but I’ll add that not knowing how to pray is not the same thing as not believing in God. We’re hard-wired for that, even if we try to suppress it. You can’t be floating around the universe and be unaffected by the grandeur of Creation. At least I couldn’t. And it seems, neither can Ryan.

The audience sees, even if she doesn’t notice, that she’s accompanied on her journey by both a Christian icon (is that St. Christopher?) and Buddha. And, spoiler alert, the deus ex machina resolution to her plight could very well be God revealing himself to her in a manner she can understand. A bit much? Maybe. Maybe not. She does learn to pray, though, doesn’t she?

In the end, it’s the forces of gravity that bring her home. You could say that it was that moment of faith that, literally, grounds her.

The movie only hints at these spiritual themes. Perhaps it’s too generic to make a real impact. On the other hand, it can serve as a springboard for conversation. I would have enjoyed seeing it with friends who would have immediately started a discussion while the end credits were rolling. Instead you get a blog post 🙂

 

 

 

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