Showing posts with label reprints. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reprints. Show all posts

Humor and Horror, Hand-in-hand: retro review

Sunday, July 1, 2012

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Totally random movie review. Random because I don’t watch many movies (no television either), so out of default I feel ill-equipped to tackle the all the nuances such as roles of directors, producers, animators, writers, actors. . . . Essentially, novels are from Venus, movies from Mars.

When I first saw Repo! around 2009, I was studying surgical technology. I’d grown disenchanted under the realization that most techs are employed in cosmetic surgical settings rather than the reason most of us had enlisted, which was to help the sick and injured. We did not know we’d be “helping” the self-centered and the wealthy instead.

Hence, Repo! appealed to me in a rebellious way. It lent humor to an otherwise repellent occupation--made it easier to accept that something so sadistic and horrific as mutilation in the name of “perfection” had become the norm. The nature of the movie is a middle finger to the surgically-enhanced population, namely the subzero Hollywood climate of automata with botox, breast augmentations, liposuction, nose-jobs, gastric bypasses, etc.

If you’ve ever shaken your head at an actor/actress/news anchor/model’s resemblance to a mannequin with perfectly frightening symmetry, then you will get this movie and certain parts will make you laugh.

If you're too squeamish to find any of it funny or you are in fact a surgery addict (or cosmetics addict) you will not be entertained as we were, and the moral of Paris Hilton’s face falling off will go over your head.

My article was originally posted in 2011 on Sci-Fi Saturday Night’s blog. Found the text file recently and wondered why I never bothered to put it on my own blog?

(Links in the article have been removed as they may not work; it’s been a year, after all!)
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Repo! The Genetic Opera is the answer to High School Musical for sci-fi and horror geeks. For Darren Lynn Bousman, who directed many of the over-the-top Saw movies, Repo!'s morbidity is fairly tolerable: For every instance of gore there's another of comedy, wrapped up in sing-along punk/cabaret lyric and dance. The opening theme song's only lyrics are "Things you see in a graveyard" sung in an operatic soprano, which sets a murky backdrop.

Minus the hilarity it'd be a fattening slice of gratuity and post-apocalyptic cliche. Horror needs balance to suit my sensibilities; there is no artistic merit in meaningless gore, especially set as a frame around scantily clad women brandishing surgical scalpels and a character who kills them to wear their faces. Then you have Paris Hilton's character, Amber Sweet, a spoiled brat who binges on surgery and painkillers. . . and loses her face.

Bousman handles it with gothic finesse, perhaps taking cues from George A. Romero (the zombie king) to include subtle comedy while taking care not to overshadow the flaws and struggles of his characters. The collapse of humanity, the subsequent obsession with biological perfection, and the emergence of a super villain with a vendetta effectively draw you in. If you like the music, and if you get the humor, the plot won't let you go.

Sarah Brightman's voice could shatter stained glass. Paul Sorvino lends the sedentary gloom and elegance of classical opera. I immediately re-watched it because I had to hear the songs again -- "Zydrate Anatomy", featuring lusty, lackadaisical vocals by Paris Hilton and the monster mash voice of Terrence Zdunich; "Chase the Morning" by the inimitable Sarah Brightman; and "Mark It Up" a tongue-in-cheek duet by Nivek Ogre -- then I finally broke down and got the soundtrack.  

Many compare Repo! to The Rocky Horror Picture Show. In terms of concept and definition, it is. Musically it feels more like Pink Floyd's The Wall, although not quite as manic: Challenging characters and subject matter; high moments of frenzy, tense moments of cynicism and melancholy. The songs are orchestrated excellently, all in the same major key, and each blends seamlessly into the next. Repo! succeeds on underground levels -- an unapologetic, original satire of Hollywood's divas, starlets, and harlots (including the men).

About Face!

Friday, March 9, 2012

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I laughed out loud when I ran across this tonight. Not because this young girl was arrested, but because she has my name. Ah, I love the Internet, so plentiful with all its pitfalls, confusions, traps, and mistakes. Obviously, that isn't me. She was apparently booked in Arkansas. I've been on the West Sigh-eed for the last thirty years, yo. If it were me I'd probably be trying to get it taken down, or looking into whether such a thing is even ethical. Sometimes you take things with a grain of salt: lots of people have your name. Sometimes you take things head-on: That is not me. And sometimes you do both.

Speaking of taking things head-on, I thought I'd post a "reprint" of an article I wrote last year. Seeing as how this blog is semi-themed toward reaching other young women like myself -- maybe students, moms, hard workers --I think it's wildly important for all women to take heed. . . perhaps the young woman in the mugshot, too. My husband, who is white, says she's 2000 miles away, looks nothing like me, and he assures me that most white people do not think that all dark-skinned people look the same. We haven't stayed together for ten years by being politically correct. Anyway. The Article.

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Cyber-stalking, Bullies, and Emotional Terrorism
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With a great sigh... it's time for me to spotlight a subject that I dread. It's uncomfortably close to me and very, very ugly in the spotlight. As a victim, though, I feel obligated to speak. I hate being a victim, and pity doesn't pay the bills. But I do believe it's my duty to all vulnerable people at large, mostly young women, to impart what I've experienced in order to prevent it from happening to anyone else.

Stalking, cyber-stalking, hacking. Emotional terrorism. Privacy-invasion. These are crimes by unhinged individuals against unsuspecting prey: Members of on-line communities, of social networks, and of seemingly innocuous forums for advice and common activity.

First I begin with confession; repetition, if you're paying attention. Yes. I have had a stalker, a rather sadistic one. This person has invaded my privacy, and has made the Internet a threatening environment in which I've resorted to using pseudonyms (Makaia, which is an alternate spelling of my middle name, the name I use to post here; and Kaia, which is obviously a shortening of Makaia)to remain anonymous and hidden from their attacks. But no more. I will not hide anymore or remain silent, especially as things have gotten a ridiculous. This person – a middle-aged man -- opened fake social networking accounts in my real name in an attempt to sniff me out as well as get in a little humiliation while he was at it. Maybe you've heard of similar things of late, with the gay girl blog hoax going around the wired.

A common thing for stalkers to think is that they're “saving” their victims. This is ridiculous, of course. What they want is absolute control over their victim. They're the worst abusers walking the planet, with a full-blown God complex for believing that their state of mind is a) healthy and infallible, and b) a hard set of rules that must be followed. If rebelled against, their ideal world begins to splinter and crack, which to them justifies their destructive behavior. They become threatening, abusive, and possibly physically dangerous to others. Oftentimes they appear charismatic with their fixations and idiosyncrasies -- until they're denied what they want.

It's nearly impossible to convince a very sick individual that they need help, just as hard as it is trying to convince friend or family member that they may need therapy after a traumatic event. Adults develop a natural resistance to help, when gone are the days of childlike curiosity and willingness to ask questions and find new ways to approach obstacles. It's a brick wall until they come to their senses, often at the cost of something like their freedom or wellbeing or the easy predictability in their world.

So, onto some methods of stalking -- new methods enabled by new technology. There's a special brand of invasion into a smartphone called cloning. The symptoms are very specific and hard to ignore once you know them. I had them. Make sure you do not.

A little story: Three years ago, I severed ties with a small on-line writing group after finding Trojans and worms in my machine. I learned that the only way to acquire these particular nasties was in downloading infested documents. The only place I downloaded said documents was in 2008, from our small Yahoo! Group with only 6 or 7 members; a place for uploading chapters from our stories and giving each other critiques. The platform was such that you had to download files in order to read each other's stories, Word files and PDFs, and you uploaded your critiques, which were then downloaded by the writer and perhaps by other interested members.

So over about a year, we shared our little novels and exchanged our little critiques. It was meaningless fun and frustration, at times very tense, but a positive learning experience. I didn't think I needed any other forums and was very comfortable with sharing with everyone there. Needless to say, I didn't surf for any other forums or groups. I didn't download files from any other sources, I didn't click on ad-banners, and I didn't visit porn sites, which are usually a good source for computer viruses. Having an IT knowledgeable spouse (and being proudly intermediate myself) means I understood a lot of information that average computer users do not. I knew how to navigate my way safely through the Net.

Turns out I fell victim to attack, not from clicking on and downloading everything in sight, but due to my trusting nature and stubborn belief that all people are basically good. Why would I mistrust a small group of writers who had also quickly become my friends?

One day I noticed my computer acting quite strange. It had the symptoms of a worm. It was nearly interminable, and the process to get rid of it was painstaking and time-consuming. A lot of research showed that, for this particular attack, the nasty executable files had to be embedded in documents. Since I downloaded nothing else, most likely these documents were the chapters from “someone's” book. So you can bet that everyone in that tiny group was infected -- being spied on and having all their sensitive information closely monitored by a seriously ill individual. One friend from the group (the only one I kept after leaving) told me later that her machine suffered a devastating virus and that she too would never return to on-line writing groups. She probably had the same roll call of Trojans and worms that I had. All our files, including videos, novels, e-tax returns and all sensitive documents, really, including family and private photos – everything was invaded and likely captured by this person to do with as he pleased.

I left that group when my husband and I exterminated all the viruses. I swore never to download documents from an “on-line community” again, meaning I wouldn't be joining any writers' groups again. I ran across this article not too long after, the outcry of a woman who had witnessed the ill effects of an under-governed on-line writing community. Her words, although seemingly harried and fearful, never washed off. I had seen similar things. I felt culpable for never speaking out, for not reporting abuse, and not realizing when the same was happening to me. Again: No more.

I – we – are safe now, as the proper authorities are involved and there was never any impending physical harm, but I felt that the situation would remain a point of fear for me if I didn't discuss it. I feel human doing so. If your smart phone/computer is displaying similar symptoms, you will know what to look for. You will know that although things might be edging into the Twilight Zone, and you might not want to confess, that you can, and should.

For those that have had similar experiences, gather your strength and blog about it, publish it, tell the world. Report it. Tell your mom, no matter how old you are; tell your sister, your husband, the police. Tell everyone who you think it is, where you think they are, what you believe they have done. Loved ones listen and take action. Turn the tables and make your stalker feel like the stalked. Do not remain a victim just because the attacks are silent and virtually invisible.