King Kong: No more "Boil ma Potato!"

And I say this because Michael and I watched the original King Kong over Christmas and M. pointed out that the Chief Native guy says something that sounds like "Boil ma potato - KONG!" ...twice! Well no WONDER Kong is kranky; the natives are demanding that he boil their potatoes.

(Sorry for the excessively long movie review to follow; I got a little carried away...) Anyway, we FINALLY managed to get some time and go see the new Jackson "Kong", and I have to say, I'm really impressed. I was skeptical before going in, what with the three hours and the fact that we'd just watched the first one and I did find my attention wandering during parts of the original (oh no, more running through the jungle...when are they gonna get to the LOG, already?) but I thought there was a lot of really great stuff in this one. If anything could have been cut, it was probably some of the NY bits at the beginning, and maybe Central Park.

But first of all....how creepy were the NATIVES?? Man, you knew you were watching a Peter Jackson film then! No "Ooga-booga Kong boil ma potato!" there. No, it was really more of a smash your head in with a sharp stick if you're lucky sort of deal. But you're really kind of asking for it, just wandering onto a place called Skull Island, past all the....skulls. I realize it was the thirties and they hadn't seen Texas Chainsaw Massacre yet, but even the very dim would have to know that's a bad sign. And did you catch the body bridges? Nice!

I also liked that Carl Denham was so sinister and just totally didn't see what was coming. Completely blind to what he was doing; it wasn't like he was two-diminsionally evil or anything; he was just stupid in that Hollywood white guy way. I thought it made sense that Ann stuck by Kong; that bugged me in the original that she would be running away from the one thing that was trying to protect her the whole time. It also made more sense now that probably Kong just snapped the necks of his brides accidentally on his little lair while whipping them around and then was like, Oh man! Bummer. Broken toy. And she kind of taught him how to quit knocking her around so much.

All of that just made the NY scenes much more effective and sad. I actually got a little teary eyed, which never really happened with the original. Not to say the new one is better; I just think they're taking a different twist, and this one was a really interesting look. I also appreciate the original Kong being more of heartless bastard, though -- remember how he just tears into people for not being Faye Wray? I kind of think Faye Wray was more like his own personal Barbie doll, whereas Ann Darrow really cares about the beast that saved her so many times in this one. Both have their merits... but I felt a lot sadder when this Kong died.

I really liked the "show" at the theater, using the original score and the "natives". The dance was hysterical. Michael recognized Smiegel (sp?) from LOTR playing the cook guy (friend of Charlie). I liked that Bruce Baxter came back to save them instead of being an ass, but still stayed in character and ran in the theater. And nice moment when Ann and Jack come through the gates and realize they've been there the whole time with the cameras.

Things that bugged me: Why did Charlie die??? "All hand on deck! Everybody on deck!" **sniff** And WTF happened to all the creepy natives? Did they figure out what was gonna happen and bug out? They were so awesome that you'd think they alone would be enough to get Carl Denham a grant from his studios to come back with a fleet of ships. Ummm...not much else bugged me, except for some excessive name-bandying in conversation ("Keep going, Jimmy!" "No, Mr. Hayes!" "Oh, Ms. Darrow." "Yes, Mr. Driscoll?" ARGH!!!).

OH and what was up with Jimmy's mysterious background? I kept waiting for it to come in handy or something, but it was never used. Oh well -- maybe Jackson is planning a remake of "Island of Lost Souls" and it will turn out that Jimmy came from there; he was once an animal experimented on by Dr. Moreau.

All in all, considering I used movie passes for this, totally worth it. I'd even pay for it again, though I probably won't considering we're way behind on our movies.

Book Banning, Anyone?

I recently made the mistake of thinking we had progressed into the 21st century. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled across this and discovered how wrong I was! Book banning? I'm sorry, but isn't that illegal? Granted, I would love the attention if my writings were banned -- everyone knows a banned item gets twice as much attention as a boring old non-banned book -- but...erm...The Chocolate War??? I guess I shouldn't be surprised that the government should be so offended by a book about the dangers of nonconformity. Those Vigils--or that Bush Administration--can be right arseholes--when they want to. For those unfamiliar with Cormier's book, please take advantage of the ALA's site and give the chapter a listen. You won't be sorry.

By the way, this book used to be taught in junior high. I'm quite sure that now, you're lucky to find it in the public library. My own copy has now been safely secured!

And that's not all. I'm sure you're aware that despite the First Amendment to the Bill of Rights, there's quite a hefty list of banned and challenged books each year. Not only that, but plenty of books have been CENSORED from their original format. (Rolls eyes) Have we lost that much of our backbone, people? Are we so afraid of offending that we must now flip through the historical canon and rip out all which might cause cringing?

Immersion Stupidity

I actually saw this article a while back and have been meaning to mention it for some time now. So now, if you'll just indulge me...**takes deep breath**

WTF???

Okay, I can understand how some fiction writers might think they can get a vague sense of what it's like to live like a junkie if they rent a room at the Baldwin for a few months. But frankly even that is pushing it, no pun intended, because let's face it: they're living with the knowledge that they can walk away from it at any time. They are, in fact, living fiction. There's nothing "immersion" about what they are doing, unless they are immersing themselves in their own stupidity. Fiction is the ability to make things up believably from your own imagination; if you can't tell a good story based on this simple guideline, then maybe you should write about something else.

Journalism, on the other hand, is supposed to be about reporting the facts. Since when is it so important for the reporter or journalist to contantly interject himself into the story? I'm getting sick of reading these articles written by self-absorbed journalists who are more interested in what they had for breakfast or how they think their interview subject is relating to them personally than in what is being said. If I want a food critique, I'll turn to the Food Section.

Ugh. Enough already! Immersion, Schmersion!

A Very Benbow Jesusy Christ-Christ

In lieu of one of those chinszy Christmas letter, I kept a chinszy Christmas journal over our Christmas holiday in Garberville at the Benbow Inn. I figured it might make up for missing any local festivities; plus, this way I won't be telling the same stories exactly 100 times, to the chagrin of everyone I know... So here you go:

A Very Benbow Christmas, December 2005:

Michael and I left S.F. a little late on Christmas Eve, around 12:30, with me convinced we’d run into all kinds of traffic. Much to my surprise, there was NONE anywhere. I guess everyone left on Friday? Anyway, it was weird. We stopped only once, at the Safeway in Willets, to pick up sandwiches, crackers and cheese and what the hell, a bottle of white wine. Oh yeah, that’s right. You heard me.

So we hit the road once more, with the knowledge that we had only 65 more miles to go (and yay, empty bladders!). Incidentally, Willets is a great little hippie-burn-out town. It’s got skateboard stores and head shops and the town drunk is like, only 23 years old by the look of him – we saw him staggering towards the taco joint. It’s also very close to mountainous properties and lots of places that look like the hillbillies from Wrong Turn might lay in wait, stalking Eliza Dushku and other hip young twentysomethings. There were a lot of broken-sown vehicles with moss growing on them on the side of the road, which begs the question: why? Who leaves them there, and to what end? Just wondering…

More winding roads, and soon Michael commented, “I think we’ve entered the Shire!” Seriously, it’s beautiful up there past Leggett, with the lichen hanging off the trees and the mist-covered mountains…OH and the redwoods grew to enormous, Jurassic Park proportions. Truly amazing, this neck of the woods. Then we hit Garberville, on the Eel River , and the Benbow Inn – a full house for Christmas Eve, it looks like, and we made friends within minutes – an older couple who needed to use the guest registration spot we’d just parked in. I graciously offered to move – since I am nothing if not gracious (actually, I’m just amazed I was paying attention for once!) – and since then, they have become our wave-across-the-room pals. We also seem to have a SEATING ASSIGNMENT in the dining room. Either that, or we just happen to choose similar dining times as the somewhat creepy Pretty Barbie Family that has been eating at the table next to us. One of the girls is cute and smiles, but the other two kids seem to be a little stuck up. What a shocker.

OH I forgot to mention the ROOM!! Last year, when we went to the Benbow Inn for New Years’, we just got a sort of smallish room facing the front in the main building. It was no great shakes – nothing bad, but I made a mental note that next time I really ought to ask for something facing the river and garden in the back – there’s also a stone bridge and it’s very pretty right now – little lights for the holiday. So I signed us up for something called a terrace king suite, not really knowing what that was – all I knew was it was in the “historic” building, and that it was in lieu of a fireplace king suite, which were all taken. I had NO IDEA just how cool this room was gonna be. First of all, the main building is rather mission-style and the architecture is amazing and cozy and fabulous. The TERRACE rooms, though, are in a separate building. Our terrace overlooks the steps to the garden, the river and bridge – I’ll take a pic tomorrow before we go, but it won’t do it justice. We don’t hang out there, exactly, since it’s rainy, but it’s still pretty to look at. We’ve pretty much holed up in here for everything except meals. We watched “The Thin Man” and “A Christmas Story” last night (I had wine before dinner, followed by a martini, then a glass of cabernet…..huh WHAT? Did somebody say something?) after dinner. I remember watching part of “The Thin Man”, waking up in the middle of it, and thinking, I really want a cup of decaf. Heh! I felt a lot better after that.

So my tummy was a little sore this morning, and I really wanted breakfast at 10 a.m. – unlike most people with hangovers, food helps me feel better. So we had a giant brunch, then opened presents. Michael wrapped my gifts in special homemade “Lazy Sunday – Chronicles of Narnia Rap” wrapping paper (yes, Pam, he can send you the file of the pattern!!). I of course received my copy of “Serenity” – I think the outtakes was my favorite part, I laughed a lot at Nathan Fillion’s ad libs. The best part though, was….Michael and I both thought we were being very clever and got each other the same thing – the "Chronicles of Narnia"!! Yes, the books. Ugh. We should have seen it coming…

December 26, 2005:

There and Back Again:

I forgot to take pictures. But really, we did go there. And we ate a lot of excellent food. Last night, it was all about the special Christmas menu – cream of wild mushroom and tarragon soup, your basic green salad with a few candied pecans, PRIME RIB and at last, Yorkshire Pudding (very bready - it looked like a cinnamon roll! British friends -- is this correct??), and bread pudding for dessert which was a bit dry, but hey, not complaining. Some nice wine and man, I was out like a light at 10 p.m. – I must be getting old.

We made pals this morning over breakfast with our table neighbors from Arcata, Art and Julianna. We noticed Julianna last night in the lounge grooving (and by grooving, I mean listening to quietly – I’d hate to give you the wrong impression) to the jazz duet. Anyway, we hit the road today around 12:15. Saw a man walking along the road in Leytonville who looked just like Osama Bin Laden, disguised perhaps as a hippie. “The last place anyone would think of looking,” remarked Michael, adding as he squinted at the sign the man was semi-staggering past, “The…Fat Quail Quilt Shop!!” Clever indeed, Osama, but we’re onto you.

And that, in a nutshell, was our Very Benbow Christmas.