Regular Poem: The Old Man

I’ve been thinking lately
of the Old Man.

Not the one who plays nick-nack-paddywhack.
Not Admiral Adama.
Not Old Man Winter.
Not even my dad.

The one who was
crucified
with Christ
but who still hangs around sometimes
like some zombie hobo
looking for a couple dollars for cigarettes and booze
trying to lure me into traps and pitfalls and sin in general.

He clings to his Old Man ways
sleeping in his clothes and hurling obscenities in all directions
constantly drunk and disorderly.

All I can do when I look at him
is shake my head.
So sad.

He doesn’t even know how bad he’s got it.

So it’s weird
when he convinces me to do
stuff.

Like I should know better.
I look at him and know I’m better
now.
But he’s still got some kind of
power
of persuasion
shaky and shameful
and just plain
gross.

And I wonder what it would take
to crucify him
again.

Like could I watch?

Would that help?

No, that’s the Old Man again
bent on violence and revenge and blood and guts.
That’s the masochist
in the Old Man,
too.
He might giggle about
his punishment:

“Yeah, girly, hit me harder.
You know you want to,”
he says in his grizzled
Old Man
voice.

Damn it, Old Man.
Shut up, already.
I’m tired of your stammering, drunken rants
against God and
everything.

How can I walk in the newness of life
with you all up in my grill
all the time?

How can I be salt and light and all that
with your whiskey breath
breathing down my neck?

Paul says put him off,
like he’s a coat you can hang on a rack.
I just want to put some diesel fuel on the rack and light a match.

Hm….
Wonderful, Counselor, Prince of Peace…
I don’t think “Firestarter” is a name of Christ.

Maybe we could file this under
Eternal Judge of the Quick and the Dead.

And I’ll put on my whole armor of God,
and put my fingers in my ears when the
Old Man tries to wolf whistle
at me in the park.

Dear Googlers 4: Additional Letters to Additional People I’ve Never Met (Probably)

Dear Googlers Who Found My Blog Using the Search Terms “china town situation”:

I’m wondering if you’re using this term the same way I am.

My daughter AND my sister,
Alexandra

***

Dear Googlers Who Found My Blog Using the Search Terms “why does anyone care about the difference between similes and metaphors”:

They don’t. 😦

And that’s why I got fired,
Alexandra

***

Hey, You For Real Need to Read This Found Poem: Moncler jacken deutschland

Fasten your seat belts, everybody!  I have for you now an EPIC spam comment found poem.  It is ridiculous and lengthy and ridiculous again.  I have found Spambot T.S. Eliot! Or maybe Spambot Gertrude Stein!  Or maybe some combination of the two!  Or maybe just a hybrid from Battlestar Galactica!

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This poem in its original state, in case anyone was interested.

I Guess I’ll Talk About This Thing Everybody’s Probably Talking About

I’m sneering about J.J. Abrams.

I’m sneering because he’s going to direct the next Star Wars, I guess.  I have a lot of issues with this:

Concern A:  What is the next Star Wars even going to be about?  Will new actors play the old characters?  Will the new movies follow a particular set of extended-universe novels?  Will anyone care?

Surely someone smart somewhere has said that a film is only as good as its villain.  Who’s going to be better than Darth Vader?  That is, who’s going to be better than Darth Vader was before the prequels came along and made him a complete lame ass?

I’m sure a lot of stuff could happen in the Star Wars universe, but as much as I loved those movies when I was a kid, I don’t think I care at all anymore.  Every time I think about Luke and Han and everybody, I then think about garish early 2000s CGI and wooden acting and bad dialogue taking the wind out of the sails of intrigue and grit.

Prequels that are different from the other thing don’t have to be all bad.  I’m watching Caprica right now, and while it doesn’t really satisfy me as something belonging to the same universe as Battlestar Galactica, I don’t hate it.  I actually like it as its own show, and I like the characters for who they are in their own show, and I like the idea of it.  I kind of think of it as really good fan fiction, where it’s not exactly canon, but it’s fun to think about anyway.

The Star Wars prequels aren’t that way for me.  I think of them as awful fan fiction that is actually canon, and it makes me want to strangle one of my favorite villains.  Instead of loving to hate him, I find myself hating to hate him and hating to love him, and hating to love him.  Basically all hate.

So here we are at some more sequels.  I’m hearing that it might be a reboot?  Why?  How do you get grittier than A New Hope?  Or flashier than The Phantom Menace?  Those are the two ways reboots occur, and neither of them makes any sense to the franchise.  Maybe it will be something in between gritty and flashy like Alias.  So we’ll have a bunch of fast-talking d-bags with a lot of drama at home?

Concern B:  I’m the kind of nerd who loves both Star Trek and Star Wars.  I love them both for their characters and their stories and their technobabble.  But I also love them both for their respective moods.

Star Wars–the original trilogy, of course–feels like a western, with gamblers and outlaws and wayward boys coming of age and crazy old coots in the desert and crazy old coots in the swamp and tall men in black suits trying to take away people’s land.  There’s something just raw and adventurous about the feeling of the original Star Wars trilogy.  Something familiar, but something exciting.

Star Trek feels like…well, it feels like Star Trek.  It’s got philosophy and utopian societies and fantastic technologies, but it’s also got just downright silliness.  Mirror universes with bearded Spock!  Janeway running around fighting gigantic CGI -viruses!  Data and Wesley! Star Trek is just such good-natured fun a lot of the time–exploring for exploring’s sake and being silly with the crew along the way.

And here’s where we come to my second concern:  I liked Abrams’s first Star Trek movie as a stand-alone piece in the same way that I like Caprica.  I like it as really good fan fiction.  But I don’t consider it canon because it simply does not feel like Star Trek.  It’s so heavy.  It thinks it’s weighty, and it acts weighty.  The Romulans incinerate the planet Vulcan, and Spock cries and makes out with Uhuru for comfort.  Meanwhile, in real Star Trek land, B’elanna Torres is telling someone to get the cheese to sickbay.

So I just don’t know what Abrams is going to bring to the Star Wars table.

But I can tell you what I wish he’d brought to the Star Trek table:  Mirror Universe!  Why couldn’t he have done a whole trilogy set in Star Trek’s established mirror universe?  With evil versions of all our favorite Star Trek characters?  Then he could have messed with the mood all he wanted, and it would’ve made sense!

Dear Googlers 3: Even More Letters to Even More People I’ve Never Met (Probably)

Dear Googlers Who Found My Blog Using the Search Terms “is ‘just like that’ a simile?”:

In the strictest sense, a simile compares two unlike things using like or as for some figurative reason, so depending on the thing you’re saying, “just like that” about, it could–technically–be a simile.  However, I think it’s best if we file it under cliché–which is an expression as old as the hills (see what I did there?) that expresses a shorthand version of a common idea.  Generally when somebody says “just like that,” the person means something happened quickly, in a New York minute, in a flash, quicker than a cat can lick its butt with its tongue out and its tail up:  The person doesn’t actually compare two unlike things but simply says a stock phrase to get the point across.

Linguistically,
Alexandra

***

Dear Googlers Who Found My Blog Using the Search Terms “to get a necklace from a man”:

So you’re looking for tips on how to entice men to buy you things?  Well, I am baby girled quite a bit (that is, people tend to like to look out for me and do things for me and generally treat me like a baby girl, and I’m not sure how or why this happens), but men hardly ever buy me presents.  Believe me:  I wish I could be more helpful, for both our sake’s.

Regretfully,
Alexandra

OUaT 2.7 Recap: When Wolves… And Wolves

Episode 7: Child of the Moon

Dwarves find fairy dust in the mine.  And by fairy dust they mean diamonds…?  Blue Fairy directs Charming to lock away The Hat because they’re gonna grind that stuff up, so he better keep the hat out of the wrong hands.  Chekhov’s Magic Hat?

“Thanks for saving me from that dude. I’m on my wolf period.”

At Granny’s, a dude flirts with Red, but she isn’t in the mood, and Belle saves her from it.  Red says it’s complicated and looks at the clock ominously.

Charming and Henry talk about Henry’s nightmares (which he’s sharing with Sleeping Beauty).

King Dad Attorney comes to “congratulate” Charming on finding the fairy dust, but really he’s gonna try to run the town in an ominous fashion.  Where’s Regina to run the town?!  Girl, if you’re not in this episode, I’m boycotting this show.

Dear Googlers 2: Some More Letters to Some More People I’ve Never Met (Probably)

Dear Googlers Who Found My Blog Using the Search Terms “who played commander janeway in battlestar galactica”:

I wonder if this crossover is intentional.  If not, your brain accidentally made something up that my brain only wishes it had come up with.

So say we all,
Alexandra

***

Dear Googlers Who Found My Blog Using the Search Terms “lady macbeth i started late and forgot the dog”:

You’re right!  I should write more about Lady Macbeth!

Unsex me here,
Alexandra

Monday Night Special #7: Delving in with Diagrams (to Battlestar Galactica)

Sentence diagramming was created by man.  It evolved.  It rebelled.  And it has a plan to take over our Monday nights.

Arbitrarily Picked Work of Fiction:

Battlestar Galactica—um, spoiler alert through season 4 except for the final three episodes, which I haven’t watched yet

Quick Synopsis:

Humanity lives on 12 planet colonies in the far reaches of the galaxy.  They have created sentient robots–Cylons–who have rebelled.  After 40 years of peace, the Cylons re-emerge sporting human-like bodies and nuclear weapons.  They bomb humanity, and a very small space-faring group of people on several spaceships survive and run, trying to find Earth, which is the fabled location of the 13th colony of man.

A bunch of other drama happens–including an alliance with a rebel faction of Cylons–by the time we get to season 4’s “Blood on the Scales,” in which Vice President Tom Zarek–an ex-con and idealistic-ish manipulative scumbag–has engineered a mutiny.  He’s killed all the members of the democratic governing body except for the president and her aide, and he has plenty of the soldiers on Galactica as well as a bunch of the rest of the fleet on his side.

He’s forced President Laura Roslin–who has never been elected president, only appointed a million times because she’s ruthless yet the best person for the job–into hiding aboard the Cylon baseship, and they are about to blow each other up.  Laura Roslin then says…

Important Quotation:

I will use every cannon, every bomb, every bullet, every weapon I have down to my own eyeteeth to end you.

Hella Long TV Plots: To Devour or To Savor

I don’t want to savor Battlestar Galactica.

I want to devour it in large, loud, unladylike bites.  I want to eat it so fast and sloppily that by the end of the meal I’ve got Cylon juice all over my face and blouse, maybe little Viper pieces scattered in my hair, my fingers sticky with whatever stuff is in the Hybrid’s bathtub.

Maybe not Viper pieces. Maybe Blackbird pieces–you know, the stealth ship they named after the president?

I just want it all.  Right now.

WHY?!

Why can’t I just have it?!

The Lure and Lull of Hella Long TV Plots

Some mild spoilers for Voyager (kind of), SVU (a little), and Damages (a tiny one). 

I’m always looking for something new on Netflix.  And I always want to start a new show that I’ve heard is amazing, but then I don’t.  I end up going back to something formulaic and episodic.

The thing is, sometimes I’m just not ready to commit to something for eternity even though the idea of it consistently makes me put things of this nature in my instant queue–things with rich mythology and evolving characters and moral dilemmas and twisty political plots.

For example, currently I’m stuck mid-season 3 of Battlestar Galactica.  I love the characters, and I’m intrigued by the story, and I want to know everything about the mythology, but I’m finding myself impatient.  Which is totally weird for me.  I love surprises!  I can wait for almost anything.

But I love the ideas in the show so much that I went online to research other people’s analysis, and I ended up half-accidentally uncovering a lot of spoilers.

I know, Cylon Xena.  That’s how I feel about it, too.