Andrushka

I just finished watching this movie, I had high expectations and it surpassed them. In case you haven't heard about Transamerica, Felicity Huffman (Desperate Housewive's Lynette) is a pre-operative transsexual woman who finds out that she has a son from her past life. Her therapist says she has to deal with this new issue before having the operation. So, she goes out to New York to meet her rent-boy son, played by Kevin Zegers from Air Bud. They proceed to cross the country and have many adventures, all the while the dramatic irony of the kid not knowing the woman is his father is palatable to the viewer. It's an Erziehungsroman (education story) in that the the characters grow from learning about each other and, in a deeper sense, it seeks to educate the audience. It's not about civil rights. Transsexuals actually fit well in existing laws, unlike homosexuals. It's about social rights, which is much more important, because where society goes, laws will follow. Above all, it humanizes a situation completely alien to most of us. When I watch such films though, I'm always left wondering how they'll be viewed in fifty years. When I see a film like Guess Who's Coming to Dinner nowadays, it's hard to comprehend the attitudes of its intended audience. That's not to say that interracial marriages are completely accepted in our society, but personally I can't understand why anyone ever had a problem with them. And I realize that movies and other cultural emissions were a major part of adjusting attitudes. I mean, I am a white boy of terrorist descent (i.e. KKK konections in the family tree) but as a reflection of my society, I'm a very different person than my Great Grandfather; I even have much different attitudes than my parents. I think I've gotten over the virulent forms of nationalism, racism, sexism, and religious intolerance. But I must admit, despite my best postmodern intentions, I still have hang ups regarding sexuality and sexual identity. Because of that, I seek out movies that deal with those themes, like Latter Days, Stonewall, Dependencia Sexual, La Mala Educacion, Greg Araki films, and Transamerica. More often than not, such films are worthless beyond their social commentary (though I tried to give examples that contradict this statement). So much effort is put into the message that the literary quality is ignored. There's more art in documentaries than many of these camp films. I'm sure plenty of equally earnest civil rights flicks were made that are pointless to watch these days. Then there are the few that transcend the social issue du jour and connect across time and culture. Only time will tell if Transamerica is such a film, but I hope that when people fifty years from now watch it, they'll wonder why anyone would have a problem with an individual's right to choose their own biological and gendered identity. On a side note, those who want to know more about transsexuals and their families might enjoy reading Trans, a book of poems by one of my favorite professors about her daughter becoming her son.

Posted by Scott at 12/27/2005 11:20:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

I just watched I Heart Huckabees again. "Do you love me, with the bonnet?" I love that movie, especially around the holidays when the existential question comes to the forefront. And today I had a surreal moment that reminded me of a time that such questions were meaningless to me. When I was a child, my brother and I tried to be ourselves to such an extreme that we may have failed. If something was popular, we wanted nothing to do with it. Once when my Mom was given hand-me-downs from another family at church for us, we were looking through them and our cousin Heidi, hoping to be helpful, told us that they were very popular brand names. It was the opposite of helpful and we didn't wear the clothes. As I said in the last post, I have long been a self-styled iconoclast. That's the background you need to understand today's event. Dad introduced me to a lovely young lady at church, saying we knew each other when we were children. Well, we did, but we were hardly in the same age group. She was much younger. She remembers me quite well apparently, she said I was one of the "cool boys" and she said it with such conviction I almost felt cool now. Yet, I've certainly never tried to be a hipster. (Who can put up with the obligatory Republican?) It's odd to find out that your childhood was a lie. I was not myself. My inner picture (iconoclast, avoiding anything cool) didn't mesh with my outer image (apparently cool); when the two competing narratives are juxtaposed, I had a strange vertigo feeling. And the kicker is that, like every other primate operating on a fourth circuit level, I was viscerally happy to have a fetching girl bat her eyes and call me cool, even if it was in the past tense. In other news, today I got the wireless router working for my parents, cleaned their keyboard and monitor, went to church, turned on as much charm as I could muster at Aunt Rosie's Christmas get-together, and worked on my laundry. Not all in that order. I have not, however, felt the least bit of Christmas spirit. The closest I've come this year was at Greenfield village, and then it was only because of the incessant carolling. Perhaps Christmas spirit, like coolness, is something left in one's childhood.

Posted by Scott at 12/24/2005 10:33:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

I'm over-proud of being an iconoclast. I also tend to feel more at home in areas that have decent mass transit systems (i.e. not this continent). Many of you know that these two features of my personality work together to keep me healthy. By which I mean, walking a lot. And not hurtling myself along the road encased in metal. However, being hired by Union and having plenty of experience missing the number 3 bus, I've admitted to myself that I need to get a car, at least until I can get out of this hive of fascism . . . but I digress. The problem is that I haven't really driven for a while. In fact, the last car I had was long enough ago that the accident is no longer on my record. So, I was a bit chagrinned today when I had to drive a car. It's not like I don't have a valid license, just not a belief in the validity of the whole shebang. Anyway, I drove. In snow. No one died. Now here's the kicker: after getting over the initial jitters, it was fine. This is the slippery slope down which I will be sliding. First I drive, next thing you know, I'll be buying an SUV, fighting over parking spots, and voting Republican. I definately need to get out of this country.

Posted by Scott at 12/21/2005 10:42:00 AM | Permalink | Comments

Popo and Itza After Marsden Hartley’s “Popocatepetl, One Morning” (1932) At my feet she lies, her shroud, my blanket. If in fair Verona our scene were set, we would be a play, she my Capulet, or some other languid pentameter, but Nahuatl remembers us in land, great humps of land, immortal as a name. Our sex and fears have crystallized in soot, dark, noxious air, hungry, muddy slopes. Platitudes aren't written in loam and magma. Itza, my love, is long cold under our quilt, but I have heat enough for both. Violet my slopes, and blue-white, I froth eternally.

--- Portrait of the Artist If my picture should ever hang in a gallery, know it's not me. Mount a disclaimer to the side, just to the right, perhaps include a list of other people of whom it's not: Einstein, Sophia Loren, Bobby Kennedy, Grant Wood, Whistler's mother, a swan-necked model enjoyed by the artist himself. Say my accoutrement may not be representative of my time. Let them know my smile, or frown, wasn’t for the picture. Say there was a wise-cracking girl they can’t see. Ask if it's not a picture of themselves. Call them liars when they disagree. Direct them to look at the light and shadow. Note the blending of pigments. Tell them again: it's not me. Make sure they know that oils, clay, chemical burns, words, or other mummified corpses can’t be trusted to steal souls. Reiterate: all art is abstraction.

Posted by Scott at 12/20/2005 08:59:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

Sorry I haven't updated lately, I've been busy. End of the year, travelling . . . the whole kurfuffle. If you're interested, you can view my new gallery of pictures from Buffy and Michael's wedding. And now, let's see if this clip works for you. Just a hint: don't scroll while playing video.
View this clip on Vimeo

Posted by Scott at 12/20/2005 04:31:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

Normally, I try to tailor classes to the needs of the students. At least that's what I tell myself. For instance, I only give quizzes when I'm not sure if people are really getting things or not. And the tests and homework tend to focus more on "problem areas" than surveying everything we studied. Likewise, when I make the questions and sample sentences, I like to include the names of my students. It's a pleasant way to integrate them into the materials and usually results in a few snickers during the otherwise somber and stressful testing situation. Like I said, tailored. This also means I don't know at the beginning of the semester what quizzes I'll be giving and when and they certainly aren't pre-made. So far, it's never been an issue. Until now. I got an e-mail yesterday from my boss at SeCC. Next semester I'll have a visually impaired student in my class. They have already converted his text book into an audio book and he has a tutor to assist him. They just need me to give them every quiz and test that I plan on administering for the entire semester and they need it NOW. Oh crap. I can easily just give them the materials I used this semester, but I don't think that's as good a deal for the other students. Besides which, I have no idea how I'll need to change my pedagogy to deal with a visually impaired student, this will be my first time. Maybe some of my TLC and Christian Records peeps can give me a shout-out. (Sorry, I'm trying to be more accepting of non-"standard" English, which means using it on occaision. Clearly it isn't working.) Anyway, now I have that, on top of my final projects, to add to the procrastination list. In other news, I've been trying to get my syllabus in order for ENGL 112 at Union next semester. Since most of my loyal readers have taken College Writing 2 at Union, and, if not, at a similar institution, what can you tell me should definately be included? What are the things you liked the most? What things did you hate? What things have you actually used? Since the focus is on writing research papers, I've included several assignments of the sort I wish I'd had, but as we can clearly see from my previous post, I may not be . . . er . . . representative.

Posted by Scott at 12/07/2005 01:43:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

I realize this blog can get "unbelievably nerdy" but I hope it's always believable. Here's what I've been thinking about today: liaisons in English. For example, when a word ending in /d/ comes in front of an unstressed syllable beginning in /y/, and extra /zh/ sound is added. The same phenomenon occurse with /t/ followed by /y/, except in the unvoiced form. So, the added sound is /ch/. Say this sentence fast: "I want you to want me, I need you to need me." Do you hear it? wan-tchyou need-zhyou. Yes, we were studying past/conditional modals today in my class. Ah could, would, and should. So much phonological fun lies therein. Besides that rule, there are plenty of other times that English adds and "extra" sound between stressed-unstressed syllables or two unstressed syllables. We also do it between vowels with slides. Consider Who are you anyway? In this case, we add /w/ sounds, Who-[w]ar you-[w]an-y-way? So, my obsession du jour has been similar glides added internally to words. Consider the difference between "die" and diet. In the first, the ie can be considered one vowel because the second letter only exists to specify the sound of the first. In Spanish or Polish though, both vowels would be distinctly pronounced: Dee-eh. So, when it comes to the two syllable version (diet), one would think it would be pronounced Deet by Anglophones. And I'm sure many children do. But, we soon learn it's two syllables. Then you'd think it would be pronounced Di-et. But it's not. We add a /j/ glide: Di-[y]et. (Actually, it should be more like Day-[y]et but then you'd think day as in 1/365 of a year. When I started this post I decided not to fool use IPA since it might be more difficult for casual readers, as if they would make it past the first line. Now I must live with my poor judgement.) Similarly, odious becomes o-dee-[ya]us. Now, this is perhaps my own lack of imagination, but I cannot, for the life of me, think of examples in English of two pronounced, vowel sounds, at least one unstressed, together that aren't linked by a glide like /j/ or /w/. But, though similar glides do occur in Spanish (?) and Polish, they have no problem with having similar situations without a glide. In Polish, this could be because they have very unusual intonation for a stress language. Still, I have a hypothesis. I know, everyone's been waiting with baited breath for this moment (and honey, we need to talk about eating bait. Seriously). I think it's related to our system of using two vowel symbols to make one vowel sign (as earlier discussed with the die example). But I still need to flesh this all out. So, are you bored yet? Well, I've secretly been watching "Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law" while writing this, so I've been incredibly entertained.

Posted by Scott at 12/06/2005 12:08:00 AM | Permalink | Comments

If you haven't seen The Boondocks, you should. I read the comic strips a bit a few years ago, but the anime version one can see on Cartoon Network is amazingly good. Social commentary, common sense, and humor. It plays off the totalization and essentialization of race and embraces it just enough to subvert it. Unfortunately, it tends to be shown only at the most inconvenient times, but those with a DV-R or a little know-how can watch it when you please. There's only been four episodes so far, so it's easy to catch up. Besides that, I've been procrastinating with Veronica Mars. I enjoy the show. Angie introduced it to me last week and has sworn me to watch the episodes in order and keep her filled in on my interactions with the show. If only I were in a cultural critisism class so I could use the TV shows as a text for study. What I should be doing is working on a lesson plan for using ballet as a way of looking at sexuality and gender construction during the 19th century, my poetry portfolio, and my final paper for linguistics. But I just like TV more.

Posted by Scott at 12/01/2005 07:42:00 PM | Permalink | Comments