The Gimcrack Miscellany

I was recently directed to read a brief article about the current state of Orthodoxy in America, written by Bradley Nassif. This article sums up exactly what I’ve been recently discussing with my wife and friends, and I agree whole-heartedly with the author.

For anyone who is Orthodox and has not yet read the article (I believe most of my reader(s) were sent a link to it via email) I would highly recommend the 10 minutes it takes to read. You can read it if you’re not Orthodox (this isn’t Scientology) but it might be mind-numbingly boring, unless you are experiencing the same kind of troubles in your church, in which case you will be able to identify.

I’ll highlight a few good points:

“Parishioners are coming and going in and out of church with little visible change in their lives. In short, they do not know the core content of the gospel or how to integrate its meaning into their everyday lives.”

“Bishops and priests must not take for granted that everyone in the Church is converted and has no need to hear the basic gospel message.”

“Outside of Orthodoxy, have you noticed how the healthiest Christian communities around today are the ones who preach Christ, not their own denomination? … Yet, all we seem to hear from our pulpits is “Orthodoxy, Orthodoxy, Orthodoxy!” We are obsessed with self-definition through negation. It is a sick religious addiction.”

“The Orthodox Church has such a long history and rich theology that it is easy for us to lose sight of the forest for the trees. But we must never lose sight of the simplicity of the gospel and its far-reaching consequences for everyday life.”

This is something I have been struggling with for a long time now. I do not feel like I’m getting anything out of going to church. I’m also sick of people telling me that you’re not supposed to get anything out of going to church - that it’s supposed to be work and that you’re doing it for God and not yourself. That’s silly talk. That sounds like something people under a tyrannical regime say. If that’s really what I’m supposed to believe as an Orthodox Christian, then count me out.

I think the solution starts when our priests and bishops start preaching about the life of Jesus Christ in the Gospels and how I should adjust my life to live as my Creator would have me live. Not about Orthodoxy. We’ve been saying Orthodox prayers for an hour. We’re standing in front of a tremendous iconostasis. We KNOW we’re Orthodox. It’d be nice if we could at least distract ourselves from that during the sermon and focus on Christ. I don’t care about vestments, narthexes, finances, or relics. I mean I do care about about those things, but not during the sermon.

Most Importantly, if I, as an Orthodox Christian, don’t want to hear about those things during the homily, then surely my Protestant, Catholic, or non-Christian friend that I bring along as a visitor doesn’t. Wish me luck convincing my friend to ever come back. Don’t we want to grow the church?

In short, God is not Orthodox. To hear it put much better than I ever could, read the article I’m talking about. The guy who wrote it looks pretty distinguished to me, and appears to hold influence in the church.

Here’s the link: Reclaiming The Gospel.

A few weeks ago I saw a little film - don’t know if you’ve heard of it - called I Am Legend. It was good. Dang good. Yesterday I saw another movie called Cloverfield. It was better. Dang better. And that’s saying a lot because I Am Legend got at least a 2/10 Berating (soon to come).

Spoilers commencing…

I wanted to compare these films because they both take place in Manhattan, they both feature the destruction of the Brooklyn Bridge and evacuation of the island of Manhattan, and they both contain potential world-ending (or at least city-ending) events that take place in the heart of New York City. Plus I saw them two weeks apart and they’re both fresh in my mind.

What are the chances of me seeing two movies in a row with such events in common as the decimation of the Brooklyn Bridge? There are so many bridges in the world, why this one? Beginning to sound a little like Reference Burst Theory™.

My hopes and dreams for Cloverfield were actually exceeded. To recap my preview-style post on Cloverfield:

1) I saw a mysterious trailer for an unknown movie
2) I found out it was called Cloverfield and it looked like Godzilla meets Blair Witch
3) It reminded me of Half-Life 2 because of the type of storytelling
4) I crossed my fingers that it would be really good and not really bad

As it turns out, it was very much like Half-Life 2. My premonitions were spot on, because they used my favorite type of film/game storytelling: first-person narrative paired with first-person visual perspective.

“Since the narrator is within the story, he or she may not have knowledge of all the events. For this reason, first-person narrative is often used… so that the reader and narrator uncover the case together.”

While the combination of these two storytelling devices exists frequently in video games, it is very rare in film, and that’s what makes Cloverfield so unique.

I Am Legend, on the other hand, is told in a much different fashion. It is not first-person perspective obviously, and since I’m not a literary expert (or even novice), I have no idea what type of narrative is used. Third-person limited, maybe? Who cares, that is not the point of this post. It is a fundamentally different type of movie, but it has many similarities to Cloverfield, and it is very good. Like Cloverfield, I Am Legend far exceeded my expectations, and hopefully I’ll get a chance to talk about it in a separate Berating post.

But I’m way more excited about Cloverfield right now, so on with the Berating.

The Good

This movie was a breath of fresh air amidst a sea of movies filled with computer generated special effects. Picture those old Playstation commercials where a Handycam captures some dudes in the back yard messing with a rocket launcher, or the Toyota commercials where an amateur camera records extraordinary things happening to a guy and his truck. Now picture an hour and 24 minutes of it in the context of a truly frightening plot. That’s what the CGI is akin to in Cloverfield. It was so well done, in fact, that I challenge someone to make a film that more accurately captures the essence of what it would really be like if you were in the same situation.

I’m not getting through to you. What would it be like if you were having a going away party with your friends and a horrible, gigantic monster came out of nowhere and began knocking over skyscrapers on the other side of the city at 3 o’clock in the morning, and then it started coming closer and you and your friends had to flee amidst wreckage, flying debris, and a bunch of shocked people who are all in survival-mode?

No, I’m not asking you what it was like in other movies like War of the Worlds and Independance Day. I’m asking you if you can really imagine what it would be like to actually be involved in a situation like that.

Just watch Cloverfield and you’ll know.

I loved this movie. I never thought I could love a monster movie completely devoid of a soundtrack filled with no-name actors with a fairly simple plot, but those are the elements that made Cloverfield a film worth watching. It was really scary and realistic. There was blood, but not excessive gore. For instance, when a piece of rebar is protruding through the shoulder of a female protagonist, pinning her to the floor, the camera is haphazardly tossed aside showing only her legs as her friends free her from her affliction.

We are constantly left wanting more. Since we are seeing the events as they happened through the lens of an amateur videographer instead of a full camera crew able to capture every angle of every scene, we only sort of glimpse a lot of the horrific things that are going on. We half-see a building being knocked down at a weird angle behind other spectators. Only our peripheral vision captures military RPGs striking the side of a giant unknown horror. We swivel around and barely witness an infected friend being scurried away by medical personal only to become, um, how shall I put it… “decontaminated”.

It’s ground-breaking storytelling and it’s a ride you won’t forget. It’s one of those films that affected me and it is a joy for me to replay over and over in my mind.

The Bad

Some people may get, and have definitely gotten, very frustrated by this film. I can see three possible reasons for this. First, I can see frustration in the fact that we never really know what’s going on and we’re left with a cliff-hanger ending. As I have stated, I love that, but it might not be your personal cup of tea. If not, I feel bad for you, son. Next, I can see frustration in the fact that you never really get to feast your eyes upon the special effects. As the viewer, I was always moving my head to try to see different vantage points - like if I was at the back row of a concert trying to see the stage - only to remember that I am watching from a fixed point of view no matter how much I tilt and pivot my neck. A little frustrating, but overall necessary for the success of the film. Finally, some will definitely be frustrated - sickened actually - by the motion of the camera used in this film. Lots of people have gotten sick from the motion of the film, but don’t judge it by the first 5 minutes, because it actually gets a lot better for the rest of the movie (with small pockets of a lot worse here and there).

The review over at CNN.com says it much better than I can:

“Some viewers will find the style a mixed blessing at best — it’s not the smooth ride we’re used to, certainly, but then maybe this genre could use a good jolt. It’s easy to grow blase when computer graphics do all the work for you. Here we spend Act II straining to see whatever it is that’s laying waste to the city, and Act III recoiling from glimpses of something unspeakable.”

The Beratings

Acting - no beratings
Surprisingly good acting from a bunch of nobodies. I believed these people were going through this trauma, for the most part.

Plot - no beratings
Simple and potent.

Inconsistencies - no beratings

Unbelievable Events - no beratings
Sure, no one in their right mind would’ve been able to keep documenting the way our camera operator did, but I get the feeling our camera operator wasn’t exactly in his right mind.

Schematics - no beratings
When there’s no soundtrack, the soundtrack can’t be bad. That’s one way to do it.

Recommended Investment = Stand in line for the very first showing

0/10 Stand in line for the very first showing
1/10 See it the first weekend
2/10 See it at full price
3/10 See it at the Five-Buck-Club
4/10 See it at the dollar-fifty
5/10 See it OnDemand
6/10 Rent it from Blockbuster
7/10 Watch it on TV
8/10 Watch it purely for spousal points
9/10 Never watch it
10/10 Buy it and publicly destroy it

Ladies and gentlemen, we have our very first 0/10 Berating. I might buy it and publicly destroy it just to have the pleasure of buying it again.

One of the things that is wrong with this world is people who are incapable of thinking outside the box. Some call this a lack of common sense. When discussing this topic, I like to refer to Mark 2:27 in which Jesus says to the Pharisees, “The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath.” I’ve also heard people say a derivative of this: “The law was made for man, not man for the law.” Sadly, there are way too many people out there who have never heard this before.

You know the kind of person I’m talking about. The slow guy who goes 50 miles per hour on the interstate amidst a steady flow of traffic traveling at 70. The bargain guy who drives 3,000 miles instead of taking a flight - not because he loves road trips or hates airports - but because he wants to save money. The republican guy that votes for an extreme right-wing candidate just because he technically falls into the same party, even though the candidate may have insane political views. The Christian guy who thinks he’s going to heaven no matter how he lives the rest of his life, as long as he’s been saved at one point in time.

Boy that escalated quickly. Sorry about that. Basically I’m talking about people that haven’t learned to think for themselves, reason, make exceptions, etc.

So, we all have someone in mind? Good, now let me blow all of your examples away with this little nugget of pure joy. By “little” I mean “tremendously large”, and by “pure joy” I mean “the downfall of humanity”.

Recently, I was recollecting this anecdote to a few of my friends and as they were all staring at me with their jaws on the floor I realized again how truly stupid this story is. It’s just so stupid. I can’t wait till you read the next few paragraphs. Hurry up, go.

About six months ago is when I met Her, but I saw Her again a week ago - by mistake mind you. Out of my own, larger-than-average amount of stupidity, I wandered too close to Her nest. Her den of destruction. Her dark, sorrowful, evil lair. She was there. She’s always there. Watching, waiting, yearning for me to fall for Her traps and become entangled, once again, in Her clutches.

I was driving to the neighborhood of West Indianapolis for a miscellaneous errand. I noticed I was low on gas, so I stopped for a fill up and decided that my brain could use a fill up too - of Red Bull, not gasoline. So I just walked right into Her nest. I didn’t even realize it until I had the sugar-free Red Bull in my hand and I was almost to the cash register (yes, I’m on a diet - I’ve been on one for 5 years and I’ll be on one until the day I die, except the days that I eat at Taco Bell). She had me. I was done for and there was nothing I could do.

In case you haven’t realized by now, She is the cashier at the Village Pantry on the corner of Morris and Harding on the southwest side of Indianapolis, Indiana, USA. Heed my warning, stay away! So what had happened nigh half a year ago to cause me to freeze in my footsteps at this moment? It wasn’t actually a frightening experience in itself, but the more I thought about it over the next six months the more fearful I became due to how absolutely stupid, common sense-less, and unable to think outside of the box this girl was. I thought to myself, if she is capable of something like this, she is surely a danger to society and must be stopped.

Here’s what went down. It was a night just like a week ago, but it was six months ago at a time when I was much younger and more innocent, and instead of a Red Bull it was a pack of Backwoods cigars. Same establishment, same cashier. I’m 25 years of age at this point, and if you have ever seen me you know that I look every bit of my age. I’m not one of those baby face, clean cut, hairless kids (I wish I was every morning when I have to shave) - in which case I could maybe, just maaaaaaaybe see the first part of this 3-part doozy being somewhat acceptable.

Part I: The Carding. Yeah, she cards me for cigars. I haven’t just turned 18. I’m not even a teenager. Heck, I don’t even get carded for alcohol half the time. I’m seven (7) years past the legal age of buying tobacco products in the state of Indiana. Now, like I said, I could maybe see this happening since they’re supposed to card people who look as old as 29 or whatever, but having grown up in the surrounding neighborhood I happen to know this particular gas station has frequently sold cigarettes (and probably liquor) to 14 year old kids. So it’s not like they run a tight ship and obey every letter of the law to begin with.

Anger level: annoyed.

Part II: The License. Upon handing her my identification, she promptly informs me that my driver’s license is expired by 2 days. Cool, no problem. They’ve let me into bars and nightclubs with an expired license before. I’ve even been pulled over with an expired license and not been harassed by the cop at all. Besides, what genius makes a fake ID and puts an expired date on it? It’s not like I have expired. Your age doesn’t reset when your license expires. I don’t know for sure, but I’ve heard your license is valid for 30 days after it expires anyway. I’m not sure if that’s really true, but let’s use our common sense and assume it is and save both of ourselves time by just selling me the cigars and letting me escape with my life.

“I ain’t gonna accept this ID ‘cuz it’s expired.”

Anger level: seething with hatred.

Part III: The Birth Certificate. I had two choices at this point: 1) gear up and do battle with this mightiest of foes or 2) retreat with my tail between my legs and find the next gas station. I had fight left in me yet, so I decided to un-sheath my broadsword of fury and strike her down for good. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I decided to scour my wallet for some other piece of ID that could prove my age. If a driver’s license had already been rejected, what was I trying to find? A student ID? A library card? An Andrew Jackson? No, I’m not bribing this foe - she’ll just double-cross me.

It must’ve been divine inspiration because I came across a weapon so potent that I knew she would all but curl up into a little ball on the floor. The corners of my mouth started to form a victorious smile and I shed a tear from my gleaming eyes for all things that are worth saving in this fallen world. I thought about pure pastures of green and gold, blue skies above bluer oceans, the glory of creation, and most importantly, enjoying my simple cigar with a nice refreshing lager on a screened-in porch with people I love, occasionally hearing that rustic “screeeech… bang!” of the screen door, listening to the crickets and tree frogs on this fine July evening, and discussing how there really was still good in this world after all and how everything just might end up OK in the end. I was giddy. I was even about to forget what had happened between me and my adversary and start our relationship over anew. I couldn’t wait to show her the birth certificate. I could smell the cigar smoke. I could taste the beer -

“Can’t accept a birth certificate. It ain’t a acceptable form of ID.”

I had been defeated.

Don’t ask me what I was doing with my birth certificate in my wallet. I know it’s not a good idea to carry such an important document around in your wallet, and I can’t even remember why I had put it in there. Nevertheless, I had it. A genuine copy, too. She defended against my potent weapon with the most potent weapon of all - stupidity. And she wouldn’t accept it.

I mean, let’s just think about the purpose of a birth certificate. It tells what day you were born on, where you were born, and who your parents are. That’s it. That’s the purpose. Information about your birth. When people want to prove their age without a shadow of a doubt, they turn to the ultimate source: their birth certificate. But she wouldn’t accept it.

Anger level: none. All anger has turned to fear at this point.

That’s it. There was nothing left to say. I slowly put my wallet back together and managed to desperately mutter “are… are you sure?”

“Can’t accept it.”

With that we parted ways. I was dumbfounded and awestruck as I drove off, vowing that I would never return as long as there was breath left in my lungs (which I was really hoping would be replaced with cigar smoke at this point).

So there you have it. It’s the stupidest thing that has ever happened. I don’t care what stories you have, what crazy things have happened to you, what evil minions of creatures you’ve defeated or been defeated by, what complicated, intricate stories of absolute absurdities you can conjure. None of them can match the simple stupidity of this tale.

Godspeed in your journeys, and I advise you to stay away at all costs from the nest of the One Who Is Stupid. I may have to love her, but I don’t have to like her.

No, I’m not imploring you, little sis. There are certain things in life that no one can explain. What is laughter? Why does laughter build upon itself? How does a car engine work? These are mysteries that will never be solved.

I have another question along these same lines: why are Saturday Night Live Digital Shorts so addicting to watch? I don’t know when exactly they started doing these little segments, but they are pure comedic genius. The more you watch them, the funnier they become.

This first one is called Lazy Sunday. Then I’ll hit you with a few MacGrubers. And I’ll end it with my favorite one of all time: Dear Sister.

“Mr. Pibb + Red Vines = crazy delicious!” - LOL

“What’s up? BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!” - LOLOL*

“Not so bad! BOOOOOOOOMMM” - ROFLOLOL

Ok, now this is a spoof of the last episode of The O.C. Season 2, which I had never seen before I saw the Dear Sister parody - and it was still the funniest thing I had ever seen. So, in case you are not an avid The O.C. watcher (which blows my mind if you’re not), here is a clip of the real thing, followed by the spoof below it.

THE REAL THING: (fast forward to about 2:20 if you want)

THE PARODY:

*update* The original video was taken down, so here is a link to another location with much better quality.

“Hey guys I just thought of the funniest thing!”

*BANG*

“mmm watcha saaaa-aaay…..”

LMFAOMGBBQLAWL!

If you like these, then check out the Laser Cats episodes. There are a lot more of these skits out there. Props to AJ for showing me the Dear Sister clip and telling me what it was actually spoofing. I never would’ve known it was The O.C.

*P.S. I realize MacGruber isn’t technically a Digital Short, but srsly who in the heck cares.

This one’s going to get me into trouble. Maybe that means it’s a good post. Or maybe it means I shouldn’t write it. Too late. I already made that collage of blog logos.

I have a question: why do some bloggers feel the need to brag about their lives? OK, now let me backpedal 20 steps for anyone who just became offended so that later I can say “I didn’t mean you.” I think it’s fine to talk about your life via your blog for the following reasons:

1) You’ve moved away from home and you want to keep your family informed of your life’s happenings.
2) You sprinkle in posts regarding your personal life amongst posts about other topics.
3) You don’t expect anyone to read it, which means you don’t tell people about it (e.g. you don’t link back to your blog when you comment on other blogs)
4) You’re famous.

…and on the following conditions:

1) You don’t aim to make people envious by boasting, gloating, showboating, vaunting, gasing, puffing, shucking, cock-a-doodle-dooing, or otherwise bragging about your life in any way.

Well actually that’s just one condition, but it packs a punch. You may be wondering what prompted me to write this. There has really been an explosion of bloggers lately, and it seems like everyone I know blogs. Naturally it follows that there has also been an explosion of useless blogs (like this one) and bloggers blogging about what their blog means and why they even began blogging in the first place, especially when they blog on the topic of blogging. Finally, we’ve seen an increase in the number of bragblogs - blogs filled with themselves and nothing else.

So, after being asked by my wife, as undoubtedly most bloggers have been at some point, why in the heck I waste my time doing it, I started thinking about what, indeed, the purpose of a blog truly is. Without going into too much detail and crossing the line from gimcrackery to shimshanklery, I believe the overall purpose of a blog is to entertain.

You can be entertained in a variety of ways. Humor is entertaining. Learning is entertaining. Current events are entertaining. Reading about your friend who is traveling abroad is entertaining. Sports are entertaining. Reading about a friend doing a DIY project is entertaining. Basically any blog I read that I enjoy is classified as an entertaining blog, which is the only reason I read it in the first place. I am just as entertained when I read a Kotaku post about Half Life as when I read a By the Narrow Gate post about film scores.

You know what’s not entertaining? Bragging. I’m sorry that I can’t give you any examples (not due to lack thereof, but out of politeness), but I’m sure you know what I mean. Time for another list to supplement my point. Here are some dead giveaways that you’ve been posting to a bragblog:

1) Every post is about your actions instead of your thoughts.
2) You give too much information about your possessions or skills.
3) Your posts don’t seem to contain references to people/events around you unless it is to point out something grand about yourself.
4) You feel the need to announce to people when you have just written a post, instead of letting them find out for themselves.

Number 4 above refers to posts about yourself. It’s different if you post an hilarious youtube vid and you tell people about your post so that they will go watch it. By the way, I’m sure I’m violating a different set of “how not to blog” guidelines somewhere by being condescending and sounding like a know-it-all idiot and not being facetious enough. I’m sorry, but I’m trying to do a service to the majority of blog readers out there. I’ll continue my point in the following paragraph since this one has hit my apparent maximum of about five or six lines.

At last count I read about 15 or so blogs on a regular basis, and that doesn’t count the hundreds of blogs I’ve stopped off at once or twice, many of which were bragblogs. So, if you’re reading this and wondering if I’m talking about you, then ask yourself if you fall into any of the categories mentioned above. If you do and you are fine with it, then I probably don’t/wouldn’t like you in RL. I’m sure me not liking you isn’t enough to sway you, but just stop and think about how many other, much more influential members of society - armed with opinions of greater consequence than my own - may not like you either. I have no idea if I’m talking about you or not and I don’t have a specific blog in mind.

You’re wasting your time if you maintain a weblog simply to boast about your accomplishments, because no one is going to read it and be entertained - they’re just going to be offended. Again, I’m not saying if you talk about yourself in your blog, you have a bragblog. After all, the whole purpose of blogs in the first place is to “chronologically journal your personal life”. The problem is, some people interprete that to mean “chronologically journal your personal accomplishments.” If you can’t think of anything else in your life besides your accomplishments, then it’s going to be tough to understand what I mean.

For instance, when I think of my personal life, I sometimes think of my accomplishments, but much more often I think of the people I love, the thoughts and ideas I have, the things I think are funny, and the mistakes I’ve made. I’m truly a humble person and also a great person with no flaws as you can tell. Seriously though, most of us think of these types of things because they are what make up our personal lives. That is, unless we are closed off to the world, in which case it’s all about our accomplishments.

Please notice that I never said you had to be a good writer or a funny person or have great grammar or awesome topics and all of that and I know that some of you out there write your blogs to an audience of only one or two specific people and I know that there are many uses for blogs besides those mentioned in this post and I’m in no way pointing out the superiority of my blog and I realize I’ve ended a post with another run-on disclaimer sentence because it’s just what I do and I’m fine with that thanks for asking.

This isn’t meant to be mean, it’s supposed to be a helpful set of guidelines for all of us. So, if this post has offended you, then it could be you that I’m talking about.

Photo credits: All images (except the first one) were taken from Despair Inc.