October 23, 2009
Remastering Jerna
Ann Somerville
P.D. Publishing, Inc.
©2009
'Lo Peoples,
Remastering Jerna is a work of speculative fiction. Kinky and polyamorous people need folktales just like other social groups. It's much more fun for all those involved if we just agree on that point.
I've had years of practice falling for imaginary people.
But then, that's the whole charm of reading fiction isn't it? To me a successful piece of fiction introduces me to a character I'd like to meet. Even rarer is to find a character I'd like to add to my boudoir. What I appreciate most about Jerna Setiq is the dignity he brings to being a male submissive. In a testosterone-driven society, as particularly evidenced in my native States, being a vulnerable man more often earns one unkind names and sneers than being elevated to a literary culturehero.
Shall we say Remastering Jerna reads like Beauty and the Beast meets When Someone You Love is Kinky? Doesn't make the picture clear enough for you? We shall try again. Within the first seventeen pages, Jerna's life as a happily married teacher is wrenched asunder by a sexually precocious student. Dramatic irony lies in the fact Jerna had actually tried to protect the boy from an abusive situation before the tables were turned upon him. Jerna prefers to sacrifice his own good name to safeguard a former lover involved with the student. His own society brands Jerna a pedophile which he is not. He must divorce his beloved wife lest she lose her children.
The prison scenes had their intended chilling effect with Jerna's matter-of-fact exploitation. They prepare the reader subtly for the difference between willing submission founded upon trust that later occurs in the story. Jerna trades his nightmarish prison-detail for whoredom. Imagine the choice between starvation, gang-rape, and being used as disposable labor and white slavery. Throughout his ordeal, Jerna never loses his penchant for kindness towards others. It earns him the affection and respect of fellow sex workers, a doctor, an older client, and a male Dom who requires training himself.
Some might feel the conciliatory ending where Jerna is eventually reunited with wife and children and yet maintains the homosexual relationship he formed with a male Dom incredible. But isn't that the really juicy thing about folktales—when they end with love involved for all?
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
Note: This copy of Remastering Jerna was acquired in an author-run contest. The reviewer is quite ecstatic that she won it.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
The Squirrel Saga
Thursday the 22nd, I trekked on foot from Readville Commuter Rail Station from West Milton Street, Hyde Park to Milton Street in Dedham to a vet who handles rehabbing squirrels.
Maybe I should back up a little.
I live with people who have a soft spot for animals. But I get the tough jobs like catching bats, wolf spiders, and house centipedes and taking them outside. Fieldmice are cute and all but not in my home.
So my brother, the Lemurian, calls me on my cellphone last Friday to announce he's coming back with a squirrel in a box. We have already had my sister spring a wounded pigeon upon us a couple a of weeks ago. The Animal Rescue League kindly took the pigeon off our hands although there wasn't a happy ending to that story.
This is a household of five cats, none of which are mine, although all the cats seem to love me. I interpret cat pretty well except if I am dealing with a sealpoint Siamese. My best animal language is reptile though. Water dragons, Tegus, and Nile monitors...well we have this thing.... Cats and reptiles don't mix however so I live without my scaly spirit animals.
Once the squirrel arrives at the house, my brother sets it up in the larger of two kitty carriers. It has banana chips and sunflower seeds from a friend of his who was the first to discover the human dependent squirrel. This little guy will sit on just about anyone's shoulder, eat nuts, and poop. It will hold up its hands to be picked up if you set it on the ground just like any human kid. Totally, unsquirrel-like. This is worrisome.
I am slightly impressed because the squirrel is young enough to lay claim to human kryptonite. That it is has big, black, beady eyes. It runs to the cage door to investigate if you speak to it and then it burrows happily in all the shredded toilet paper atop the newspaper and goes to sleep.
My brother calls the Animal Rescue League to report the squirrel needs intervention. It has no fear of humans. It tries to sneak into human-inhabited buildings where there's warmth and food. My sister worries that the squirrel will die a premature death if it's just released without any intervention. Not everyone will take pity on a wild animal.
The squirrel spent the weekend. Meanwhile, we were trying to get someone from the Animal Rescue League to take the squirrel. ARL took the pigeon and they are listed as Wildlife Rehabilator when I searched Google.™ It's a little harder to get this to happen with the squirrel. I let my brother call ARL and he gets some information about a Wildlife Rehabilitator in Weymouth. We can't get to Weymouth w/out a car. No dice.We learn ARL aren't rehabbers themselves. The Animal Rescue League will transport the squirrel to a Rehabber's though. There's a lot of demand for their services so they aren't sure when it will happen.
Meanwhile, The squirrel spends the weekend with us. It amuses itself by overturning its water tray and soaking the newspaper. The cats are trying to sneak into my brother's bedroom so they can check out the intruder. One cat is declawed so he's not as much of threat but the others are. The squirrel gets to run around in the bathroom while my brother cleans the cage. I have no idea how to sex a squirrel although my brother thinks that it's a girl because of the visible teat. My sister has no opinion. That time of the month arrives and I get irritated by the whole affair.
Monday comes and we haven't lined up a place we can get the squirrel to. Naturally, the squirrel is bored with it's spacious quarters. The bathroom is the one room where anyone has a hope of catching it and putting it back into the kitty carrier. It also has lockable door to keep the cats from joining in the fun. I am crankier and crankier. My brother is bonding with the squirrel and taking pictures. My sister is concerned that the squirrel gets the help it needs.
Now I have to call ARL. I email too just to cover all the bases. I am PMS-ing something horrible. A very patient female receptionist at the Boston office advises me that there's a Wildlife Rehabber in Dedham that ARL uses. Hallelujah! I can get to Dedham. I call the spot and I'm told I can bring the squirrel tomorrow when the vet is there. After a friendly discussion with the ARL Dedham, I decide we can keep the squirrel another night rather than impose upon Dispatch.
So Thursday, me and squirrel board and Route 32 bus and head onto our adventure. I have transferred our guest to the smaller kitty carrier and provided a farewell snack of almonds and cashews.
I am STILL cranky.
The squirrel does not say thank you or goodbye.
I sign surrender papers.
The vet comes out and explains the process of rehabbing where the squirrel gets to live outside where there are other squirrels running around free and get re-acclimated to behaving like a squirrel again. We are free to call in a week to check the squirrel's progress. My brother and sister can make the call. I am done.
I trudge back down Milton street with an empty kitty carrier, a lighter heart, and a lone hawk circles overhead. That's gotta be a sign the Universe is pleased with me. I did the right thing.
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-nessMonday, October 12, 2009
Coming Out About My Friendships
'Lo Peoples,
I'm a member of the Outer Alliance, a group supporting LGBT advocacy, and whose ranks are drawn 
from the Science Fiction and Fantasy genres and their supporters.
National Coming Out Day was yesterday. Sunday, October 11th, 2009. I spent part of it at a writer friend's house surrounded by gay men, straight women, one other person of color, and a feline. More people of all preferences and skin tones probably breezed in after I left.
We were there for the host, the food, and the liquid refreshment. What I appreciate about visiting with my LGBT friends is the aura of acceptance that radiates throughout their gatherings.
My friend greeted me with an unexpected kiss on the cheek. Endorphin levels rose. I happily followed him into his abode and I beamed my respects to the photo of his deceased male partner before I took up refuge in his kitchen in full view of the edibles.
I'm not much of a plunger, that is, I tend to hang back in new social situations. I'll speak if I'm spoken to and occasionally when I feel as if I can weigh I on a topic, I'll offer something first. Mostly, I try to radiate good vibes.
I am obviously an African descended person if one looks at me. It's also obvious that I'm what's called heavy-set. Most attractive men can feel my interest in them and it either evokes mutual enjoyment, timidity, or indifference. I will strut around in public with my miniature whip attached to my keychain, or in Black leather and my crop at my side, but I've never had to agonize over publically sharing who I am and who I crawl between the sheets with.
So I listened to my friend's guests discuss the LGBT old guard history, Chicago vs. Boston, the possibility of ejaculation without Viagra when one is post-70, and do-it-yourself remodeling. I smiled to myself because I thought even more people should have the opportunity to enjoy socializing with other sexual beings at peace with being themselves openly. And as always, I end my observances with...
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
Sunday, October 4, 2009
EBook Review: Like Twin Stars: Bisexual Erotic Stories
'Lo Peoples,
Like Twin Stars: Bisexual Erotic Stories
Edited by Cecelia Tan and Kelly Clark
Circlet Press, Inc
©2009
Disclosure: I received a free review PDF courtesy from the editor upon my own request.
Okay folks, get your bibs on. There's some literary treats ahead.
Some Anthologies deserve an extended metaphor. Allow me to regale you with such a gustatory conceit. Taste is a pretty basic matter for all of us, like that infamous three letter word.
Ya'll know it... s-e-x.
And not just vanilla sex, Peoples.
Bi-Sex.
Spicy, sweet, and titillating just like her Tangh-i-ness likes it.
Some anthologies provoke the equivalent of indigestion. Others get devoured and still others are savored. Like Twin Stars: Bisexual Erotic Stories belongs in the latter category. As a writer m'self, I appreciate well-crafted words. I relish the strong flavor of sex without offending the senses or the mind that digests the entire confection.
I don't envy the editors' task of sifting through many tales to find the three that were intended to give the reader a consummate experience. It's like going to the candy store and having to choose between a bag of gummi bears with their chewy, gelatin delicacy, or a bag of peppermint candies that heat up the inside of one's mouth a bit before the sugar rush fades, and lastly a bag of M&Ms® with their fleeting crunch and central chocolate. Yumminess abounds any way one decides to go.
I'll start, in reverse order, with the digestif: The Travesties by Giselle Renarde.
Next, on the palate, is Neil Hudson's Incubus, Succubus.
And the apértif would be The Dancer's War by N.K. Jemisin.
Enter Nurse Clinician Sebastian Savant and the object of his passion—an intersexed person—Cam/ille.
Throw in a mini-history of an invented slang terminology, a predatory researcher, cisgender bias, and the lover who vanished and gorge.
After feasting upon The Travesties, I want to start chanting the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup jingle.
Mentally review the jingle with me now. Something about twos and tastes in a single mouthful right? Got the picture of what that story holds for consenting adults?
Moving right along....
Ready for a slow boil that results in a saccharine implosion?
The nameless, first-person, male narrator of Incubus, Succubus feels set apart from his world. This is a sexual coming-of-age story with a twist. I should have recognized the hint of otherworldly from the first sampling, but I didn't. The rustic, folktale milleu enchanted me right out of guessing the outcome of narrator's quest for erotic awakening, but I'm certain other readers will manage to fight off candy-induced stupors.
I've already waxed rapturously about N.K. Jemisin and her hot men in a previous novel review. I felt honor-bound to begin with the succulent tales from Renarde and Hudson because of it. Last-mentioned The Dancer's War is never least in my book. Remember this is the story that opens the anthology. Meet two more toothsome delights, in the persons of the bantam Elan of the Weavers-of-the-Cloud and the strapping Ansheara of the Ketuyae. Our two virile goodies engage in a battle of wills that begins on a dance ground and ends with both men in a compromising position for the titillation of assembled women. Her Tangh-i-ness was left fiending for more...more...more.
All compliments to the chefs go to the three writers, naturally. I finished well satisfied. With the editors I'll leave a simple request: a companion volume featuring three, bisexual female protagonists and their sexcapades.
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
Like Twin Stars: Bisexual Erotic Stories
Edited by Cecelia Tan and Kelly Clark
Circlet Press, Inc
©2009
Disclosure: I received a free review PDF courtesy from the editor upon my own request.
Okay folks, get your bibs on. There's some literary treats ahead.
Some Anthologies deserve an extended metaphor. Allow me to regale you with such a gustatory conceit. Taste is a pretty basic matter for all of us, like that infamous three letter word.
Ya'll know it... s-e-x.
And not just vanilla sex, Peoples.
Bi-Sex.
Spicy, sweet, and titillating just like her Tangh-i-ness likes it.
Some anthologies provoke the equivalent of indigestion. Others get devoured and still others are savored. Like Twin Stars: Bisexual Erotic Stories belongs in the latter category. As a writer m'self, I appreciate well-crafted words. I relish the strong flavor of sex without offending the senses or the mind that digests the entire confection.
I don't envy the editors' task of sifting through many tales to find the three that were intended to give the reader a consummate experience. It's like going to the candy store and having to choose between a bag of gummi bears with their chewy, gelatin delicacy, or a bag of peppermint candies that heat up the inside of one's mouth a bit before the sugar rush fades, and lastly a bag of M&Ms® with their fleeting crunch and central chocolate. Yumminess abounds any way one decides to go.
I'll start, in reverse order, with the digestif: The Travesties by Giselle Renarde.
Next, on the palate, is Neil Hudson's Incubus, Succubus.
And the apértif would be The Dancer's War by N.K. Jemisin.
Enter Nurse Clinician Sebastian Savant and the object of his passion—an intersexed person—Cam/ille.
Throw in a mini-history of an invented slang terminology, a predatory researcher, cisgender bias, and the lover who vanished and gorge.
After feasting upon The Travesties, I want to start chanting the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup jingle.
Mentally review the jingle with me now. Something about twos and tastes in a single mouthful right? Got the picture of what that story holds for consenting adults?
Moving right along....
Ready for a slow boil that results in a saccharine implosion?
The nameless, first-person, male narrator of Incubus, Succubus feels set apart from his world. This is a sexual coming-of-age story with a twist. I should have recognized the hint of otherworldly from the first sampling, but I didn't. The rustic, folktale milleu enchanted me right out of guessing the outcome of narrator's quest for erotic awakening, but I'm certain other readers will manage to fight off candy-induced stupors.
I've already waxed rapturously about N.K. Jemisin and her hot men in a previous novel review. I felt honor-bound to begin with the succulent tales from Renarde and Hudson because of it. Last-mentioned The Dancer's War is never least in my book. Remember this is the story that opens the anthology. Meet two more toothsome delights, in the persons of the bantam Elan of the Weavers-of-the-Cloud and the strapping Ansheara of the Ketuyae. Our two virile goodies engage in a battle of wills that begins on a dance ground and ends with both men in a compromising position for the titillation of assembled women. Her Tangh-i-ness was left fiending for more...more...more.
All compliments to the chefs go to the three writers, naturally. I finished well satisfied. With the editors I'll leave a simple request: a companion volume featuring three, bisexual female protagonists and their sexcapades.
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
Thursday, October 1, 2009
What Sensei Had to Say
'Lo Peoples.
Her Tangh-i-ness is back to the subject of writing mentors.
I've been promising that I'd share with you some of what I've been learning from the man I call Sensei. Sometimes, there are questions I don't even realize I want to ask myself. Whenever Steven Barnes brings one up, a part of me bristles.
"But he's established," my inner procrastinator whines, "of course, he can spout whatever he likes." Next, my inner taskmaster kicks in, "Ri-i-i-ight. Have you already forgotten he's where you'd like to be when you grow up?"
My inner procrastinator mumbles something to the effect of, "Now that you mention it...."
Please note the following words in the email below are the intellectual property of Steven Barnes. I have his permission to repost this material from his newsletter. Remember, I get this and other regular free teachings via my inbox. How's that for ease of instruction?
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
-----Original Message-----
From: Steven Barnes
To: You know who
Sent: Thu, Jan 24, 2008 11:46 am
Subject: What if you KNEW you could not fail?
One of the most important questions anyone ever asked me.
What would you aspire to, if you KNEW you could not fail?
That's our question of the day. We limit ourselves in so many ways. Our heads are filled with ideas of what is not possible--for us, or for anyone. And yet the leaders and shapers of the world dare to dream beyond those limits. Sometimes they fail. So what? I remember someone saying to me: "Steve, you dream too big. You're setting yourself up for disappointment." So what? I'm a big boy. I can handle it.
But you know what I can't handle? Feeling that I'm not living up to my potential. That's just me. I imagine two scenarios:
1) At the moment of death, it is revealed to me that my dreams exceeded my capacities.
2) At the moment of death, it is revealed to me that my capacities exceeded my dreams.
I don't know about you, but the second one sucks. I would rather go all out, break my heart again and again and again, pick my self up bloody and bruised and hurl myself at the locked gate again, than slink off and nurse my wounds and join the "you can't win" crowd.
Now, better still is to simply operate in a Zen state of awareness where your normal daily activities, approached with intensity but not strain, naturally takes you through your personal evolution. Just awaken every day, chop wood and carry water, love your spouse, play with your children, play with your toys, tend your garden, rejoice in the life God gave you, and go to bed each night pleasantly exhausted and ready for renewal and a new day. Effort, but no strain. Just hunting and gathering and loving and giving and growing.
And I think that it starts by re-claiming your dreams. So ask yourself: What would you aspire to if you KNEW you could not fail? Choose goals in all three major arenas. Begin to move toward them. Find role models in all three areas, and determine their belief systems, mental syntax, and use of physiology. As you run into barriers, mark them on your mental "map": you are exploring the intersection of internal and external reality. As you experience fear investigate it, and see where your emotions are knotted. And every day, celebrate the joy of sheer existence.
Let' s make 2008 a fabulous year for all of us. There's enough joy to go around. Love, health, and success are not a zero-sum games.
##
The LIFEWRITING YEAR-LONG is the essence of everything I've learned in thirty years of professional writing. Everything that has helped me earn a living, support my family, and find personal fulfillment without selling out my dreams. Quite simply, there is nothing like it, anywhere. Period. What are you waiting for? Friend, you're all you've got. Today, this day, is all there is. Get MOVING!
©2008 Steven Barnes
www.lifewrite.com
Disclosure: Her Tangh-i-ness bought and paid for her own copy of Lifewriting for Writers program. The Lifewrite newsletter she subscribes to is totally free.
Her Tangh-i-ness is back to the subject of writing mentors.
I've been promising that I'd share with you some of what I've been learning from the man I call Sensei. Sometimes, there are questions I don't even realize I want to ask myself. Whenever Steven Barnes brings one up, a part of me bristles.
"But he's established," my inner procrastinator whines, "of course, he can spout whatever he likes." Next, my inner taskmaster kicks in, "Ri-i-i-ight. Have you already forgotten he's where you'd like to be when you grow up?"
My inner procrastinator mumbles something to the effect of, "Now that you mention it...."
Please note the following words in the email below are the intellectual property of Steven Barnes. I have his permission to repost this material from his newsletter. Remember, I get this and other regular free teachings via my inbox. How's that for ease of instruction?
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
-----Original Message-----
From: Steven Barnes
To: You know who
Sent: Thu, Jan 24, 2008 11:46 am
Subject: What if you KNEW you could not fail?
One of the most important questions anyone ever asked me.
What would you aspire to, if you KNEW you could not fail?
That's our question of the day. We limit ourselves in so many ways. Our heads are filled with ideas of what is not possible--for us, or for anyone. And yet the leaders and shapers of the world dare to dream beyond those limits. Sometimes they fail. So what? I remember someone saying to me: "Steve, you dream too big. You're setting yourself up for disappointment." So what? I'm a big boy. I can handle it.
But you know what I can't handle? Feeling that I'm not living up to my potential. That's just me. I imagine two scenarios:
1) At the moment of death, it is revealed to me that my dreams exceeded my capacities.
2) At the moment of death, it is revealed to me that my capacities exceeded my dreams.
I don't know about you, but the second one sucks. I would rather go all out, break my heart again and again and again, pick my self up bloody and bruised and hurl myself at the locked gate again, than slink off and nurse my wounds and join the "you can't win" crowd.
Now, better still is to simply operate in a Zen state of awareness where your normal daily activities, approached with intensity but not strain, naturally takes you through your personal evolution. Just awaken every day, chop wood and carry water, love your spouse, play with your children, play with your toys, tend your garden, rejoice in the life God gave you, and go to bed each night pleasantly exhausted and ready for renewal and a new day. Effort, but no strain. Just hunting and gathering and loving and giving and growing.
And I think that it starts by re-claiming your dreams. So ask yourself: What would you aspire to if you KNEW you could not fail? Choose goals in all three major arenas. Begin to move toward them. Find role models in all three areas, and determine their belief systems, mental syntax, and use of physiology. As you run into barriers, mark them on your mental "map": you are exploring the intersection of internal and external reality. As you experience fear investigate it, and see where your emotions are knotted. And every day, celebrate the joy of sheer existence.
Let' s make 2008 a fabulous year for all of us. There's enough joy to go around. Love, health, and success are not a zero-sum games.
##
The LIFEWRITING YEAR-LONG is the essence of everything I've learned in thirty years of professional writing. Everything that has helped me earn a living, support my family, and find personal fulfillment without selling out my dreams. Quite simply, there is nothing like it, anywhere. Period. What are you waiting for? Friend, you're all you've got. Today, this day, is all there is. Get MOVING!
©2008 Steven Barnes
www.lifewrite.com
Disclosure: Her Tangh-i-ness bought and paid for her own copy of Lifewriting for Writers program. The Lifewrite newsletter she subscribes to is totally free.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Visual Media Review: Battle for Terra Blu-ray/DVD
'Lo Peoples,
Battle for Terra
2009
Rated PG
After all her recent fuming, Her Tangh-i-ness is delighted to have something to crow about for a change. Between the second Transformers movie, District Nine, and the second season finale of True Blood, I felt that maybe other painful, racist tropes were due for a comeback at any time. I have seen proof positive that the kind of movies I want to see and support are actually being made. Buy or rent a copy of Battle for Terra. It's totally worth the good karma points. We need to demonstrate there's a market for these folks.
Battle for Terra has been directed and written by Aristomenis Tsirbas. Evan Spiliotopolous is the screenwriter. Gentlemen, Her Tangh-i-ness, and the Lemurian are supremely grateful for your decision to create and produce a story that falls outside the usual Hollywood toxic fare. Efcharisto! Well done. May the Blu-ray and DVD sales make up for what didn't happen in the box office.
In the making of segment, the Tsirbas explained that he intended for this to be an "invasion" movie. Humans are the invaders this time around. Spiliotopolous also points out that an animation like this is adult fare. Countries such as Japan and France can create animation for grownups, but in the US, audiences are still slow to catch on.
I'm saddened that when my brother, the Lemurian, and I actually went to see Battle for Terra in the theaters, it was consigned to locations that might as well been light years away. We didn't hear about it in time to catch it locally. Yet, the Lemurian decided, based on reviews from sources like IGN, the gamer site, that Battle for Terra would be an instant buy.
So this weekend, we settled in front of his Sony 1080 Full HD screen and slid the Blu-ray into the trusty Samsung. I know there have been rumblings about the quality of the animation, but to our mind, nothing detracted from the viewing experience. Simplicity can be quite complex as any South Park episode can demonstrate. Quality CGI does not result in minstrel-bots or freakin' Jar Jar Binks.
As a person of color, I usually identify with aliens in science fiction. I watch movies expecting the aliens to get the short end of the stick just like human, so-called "minority" groups.
I observed the pale-skinned, three-fingered, tadpole people glide through the first few minutes of the movie. I call them tadpole people because they had the same kind of vestigial tail without fins. They literally float-swam through their atmosphere which incidentally was poisonous to humans. The Terrans were cute in the sense that E.T. and the Muppets are cute which helps with viewer empathy.
Big eyes never fail. At first, the majority of the Terran population revered the invading humans as gods. Terran Elders seemed to have a different opinion of the happenings but they refused to share what they knew with their own people. The plot thickened.
Mala was the fiesty Terran heroine who rescued a human, Jim Stanton, in order to save her own captured father. By the time, we got this part, I'd been thinking this could be Pocahontas meets John Smith 2009 times worse. With his square chin and close-shaved head, Jim Stanton looked like a Space Marine posterboy with a designer eyebrow cut. (Stanton, incidentally, reminded Her Tangh-i-ness and the Lemurian of Richard Corben's Den. Visually. Not actually.) Jim Stanton's character arc required him to move from seeing the Terrans as potential hostiles to sacrificing his life for their welfare. Mala lost her own father but successfully defended her home planet from the crippled generation ship populated by desperate humans. It turned out the Terrans once had a warlike period but banished the evidence to the outer regions of the planet and certain underground facilities.
When I noticed the Black human President voiced by Danny Glover, I think I relaxed a tiny bit. (Yes. Her Tangh-i-ness is oversensitive! She is trying to undo years of exposure to racist propaganda.) The film's antagonist, a suitably hawkish General Hemmer leads a coup against the President in order to ensure survival of the human race. Hemmer intends to terraform the planet and write off the intelligent Terran population as collateral damage. Humans will once again have a home despite the lethal cost to another species. If Hemmer had said, "Stay the course," to Jim Stanton, we could have substituted Hemmer for any number of recent political figures.
I expected Jim Stanton and Mala to save the day, but I didn't expect the hero to die in order to make things right. This is where I really appreciated the risk taken by the director and writers. Sacrifice usually falls in standard movie fare upon some hapless sidekick (often a person of color) whose death clears the path to resolution between the warring parties. The hero strides into the sunset with the heroine on his arm and credits roll.
But it didn't go down like that in Battle for Terra. Jim Stanton takes out Hemmer and everyone else aboard the terraformer in order to put a stop to the madness. Can we say deep? After his suicide run, the Terrans opt to share their world with humans who are confined to a dome where oxygen-producing foliage can allow them to peacefully co-exist. Mala and Stanton's younger brother share a feel-good moment.
Even as much as I'm down for Spock and Uhura, I cringed at the thought of an interspecies romance but Battle for Terra didn't go there either. Thank the Force. Jim Stanton got a statue dedicated to his memory. Mala glided into the sunset piloting her own ship accompanied by a love interest of her own kind. And the Black President survived.
I can totally understand why parents might be loathe to answer questions from their little ones after watching. Why there's that disturbing near-death scene of all those cute tadpole people. And who really wants to own up to the predatorial nature of the human species?
Thinking parents who want to raise the next generation of staunch Pro-Alienists like Her Tangh-i-ness and the Lemurian cogitate, then teleport, but don't walk to get a copy of Battle for Terra.
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
Battle for Terra
2009
Rated PG
After all her recent fuming, Her Tangh-i-ness is delighted to have something to crow about for a change. Between the second Transformers movie, District Nine, and the second season finale of True Blood, I felt that maybe other painful, racist tropes were due for a comeback at any time. I have seen proof positive that the kind of movies I want to see and support are actually being made. Buy or rent a copy of Battle for Terra. It's totally worth the good karma points. We need to demonstrate there's a market for these folks.
Battle for Terra has been directed and written by Aristomenis Tsirbas. Evan Spiliotopolous is the screenwriter. Gentlemen, Her Tangh-i-ness, and the Lemurian are supremely grateful for your decision to create and produce a story that falls outside the usual Hollywood toxic fare. Efcharisto! Well done. May the Blu-ray and DVD sales make up for what didn't happen in the box office.
In the making of segment, the Tsirbas explained that he intended for this to be an "invasion" movie. Humans are the invaders this time around. Spiliotopolous also points out that an animation like this is adult fare. Countries such as Japan and France can create animation for grownups, but in the US, audiences are still slow to catch on.
I'm saddened that when my brother, the Lemurian, and I actually went to see Battle for Terra in the theaters, it was consigned to locations that might as well been light years away. We didn't hear about it in time to catch it locally. Yet, the Lemurian decided, based on reviews from sources like IGN, the gamer site, that Battle for Terra would be an instant buy.
So this weekend, we settled in front of his Sony 1080 Full HD screen and slid the Blu-ray into the trusty Samsung. I know there have been rumblings about the quality of the animation, but to our mind, nothing detracted from the viewing experience. Simplicity can be quite complex as any South Park episode can demonstrate. Quality CGI does not result in minstrel-bots or freakin' Jar Jar Binks.
As a person of color, I usually identify with aliens in science fiction. I watch movies expecting the aliens to get the short end of the stick just like human, so-called "minority" groups.
I observed the pale-skinned, three-fingered, tadpole people glide through the first few minutes of the movie. I call them tadpole people because they had the same kind of vestigial tail without fins. They literally float-swam through their atmosphere which incidentally was poisonous to humans. The Terrans were cute in the sense that E.T. and the Muppets are cute which helps with viewer empathy.
Big eyes never fail. At first, the majority of the Terran population revered the invading humans as gods. Terran Elders seemed to have a different opinion of the happenings but they refused to share what they knew with their own people. The plot thickened.
Mala was the fiesty Terran heroine who rescued a human, Jim Stanton, in order to save her own captured father. By the time, we got this part, I'd been thinking this could be Pocahontas meets John Smith 2009 times worse. With his square chin and close-shaved head, Jim Stanton looked like a Space Marine posterboy with a designer eyebrow cut. (Stanton, incidentally, reminded Her Tangh-i-ness and the Lemurian of Richard Corben's Den. Visually. Not actually.) Jim Stanton's character arc required him to move from seeing the Terrans as potential hostiles to sacrificing his life for their welfare. Mala lost her own father but successfully defended her home planet from the crippled generation ship populated by desperate humans. It turned out the Terrans once had a warlike period but banished the evidence to the outer regions of the planet and certain underground facilities.
When I noticed the Black human President voiced by Danny Glover, I think I relaxed a tiny bit. (Yes. Her Tangh-i-ness is oversensitive! She is trying to undo years of exposure to racist propaganda.) The film's antagonist, a suitably hawkish General Hemmer leads a coup against the President in order to ensure survival of the human race. Hemmer intends to terraform the planet and write off the intelligent Terran population as collateral damage. Humans will once again have a home despite the lethal cost to another species. If Hemmer had said, "Stay the course," to Jim Stanton, we could have substituted Hemmer for any number of recent political figures.
I expected Jim Stanton and Mala to save the day, but I didn't expect the hero to die in order to make things right. This is where I really appreciated the risk taken by the director and writers. Sacrifice usually falls in standard movie fare upon some hapless sidekick (often a person of color) whose death clears the path to resolution between the warring parties. The hero strides into the sunset with the heroine on his arm and credits roll.
But it didn't go down like that in Battle for Terra. Jim Stanton takes out Hemmer and everyone else aboard the terraformer in order to put a stop to the madness. Can we say deep? After his suicide run, the Terrans opt to share their world with humans who are confined to a dome where oxygen-producing foliage can allow them to peacefully co-exist. Mala and Stanton's younger brother share a feel-good moment.
Even as much as I'm down for Spock and Uhura, I cringed at the thought of an interspecies romance but Battle for Terra didn't go there either. Thank the Force. Jim Stanton got a statue dedicated to his memory. Mala glided into the sunset piloting her own ship accompanied by a love interest of her own kind. And the Black President survived.
I can totally understand why parents might be loathe to answer questions from their little ones after watching. Why there's that disturbing near-death scene of all those cute tadpole people. And who really wants to own up to the predatorial nature of the human species?
Thinking parents who want to raise the next generation of staunch Pro-Alienists like Her Tangh-i-ness and the Lemurian cogitate, then teleport, but don't walk to get a copy of Battle for Terra.
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Visual Media Review: True Blood Season 2
'Lo Peoples,
I regret to inform you...I'm not part of the target demographic in this case, either. I want to watch shows and enjoy them, not break out the verbal equivalent of an edged weapon. Sh*t.
Monday, September 14th, 2009, I'd just finished watching episodes 7-12 of True Blood season 2 at the home of dear friends. Yup. I'm back on my soapbox again. I'd had moments, last season, where I found myself bristling while watching True Blood, but the good moments outweighed the bad, so I kept watching. Now I feel as if I've been visually and dramatically B*tch-slapped. Other than the incidents that I shall address in this post, I found the remainder of True Blood season 2 quite satisfying. I shall pick up my wounded pride and eventually follow a True Blood season three.
I grew up watching People of Color and LGBT characters evolve on network television from nonentities, token representatives, into caricatures and back into caricatures again. Sometime about the 1980's, I drew an invisible line in my mind. I decided to blanket-forgive a certain incidence of foolishness due to the fact that Political Correctness had not yet become a cultural standard. By the way, being PC does not even begin to address the egregiousness of certain repeated tropes on TV, Cable, and in Movies. Actors Mantan Mooreland and Butterfly McQueen took the work given to them. But those roles should have long disappeared by now. No entity or law exists to require PC compliance or to prevent Ethnic and LGBT character-assassinations.
Understand, I am a storyteller. I totally get that conflict keeps people watching. However, there is an issue in visual media of using stereotypical archetypes. This, in my book, falls into the racist and bigoted propaganda camp. The visual medium influences social behavior. I'm sorry...this is a known fact. Take some responsibility and correct the error. True Blood has all of season 3 to do this.
Obviously, if the majority of producers and writers of a show do not come from a particular ethnic or sexual background, they do not automatically have a reason to consider the impact certain characterizations or plot elements have. Yet, I and others, would feel remiss in not speaking out on these points.
Let me begin with the positive.
I accept that the True Blood series centers about whatever Sookie Stackhouse is doing. The Blonde Barbie = Good Girl trope has been with movies since before Sookie. But Alan Ball expanded Lafayette in such a way that I prayed I would see something that had been missing from Queer As Folk, for example. Believe me, I know that the wonderful All-People Of Color headlining show, Noah's Arc, exists, but here is a strong Black Gay male character who has the potential to hold his own amongst an inclusive cast. I am likewise thrilled to have Tara, a beautiful, Black woman, draw an appreciative audience just as Nichelle Nichols playing Uhura once did. I appreciate how much Sookie and Tara feel they are "family."
And I love me some Lafayette. The last time, I was so fascinated with a dark-skinned Black male character was Simon Adebisi from Oz. I have heard some rumblings about Lafayette's being a drug dealer and a prostitute along with his gender-bending sexuality should be a problem. Given that I've been around some of my more outlandish bretheren and sistren, I find Lafayette's portrayal as being refreshingly dignified, despite these two other unsavory aspects of his life. I am relieved that Lafayette was not simply disposed of as in the actual books.
I am concerned, however, that his PTSD storyline will continue to emasculate him. With an ensemble cast, it is incredibly important to maintain the strong elements. Lafayette has amply repaid his 1st season sins—bring my girlfriend back even fiercer than ever! This will go far in being a positive depiction of a LGBT person. Deep down, Lafayette is a survivor. Represent!
It really hurt to watch Lafayette crumble under Maryann's influence. Mind you, Maryann already warped Tara and Eggs. Now we get to Lafayette and he can't hold the line either. I wanted one other holdout of color other than Sookie, Sam, and the vamps. All those characters share a common ethnicity. Naturally, Her Tangh-i-ness notes, their POC castmembers are the weaker ones. Yes, I know that the majority of white townspeople were influenced by the Maenad too, but see my prior argument.
When Lafayette has his outburst in Merlotte's after confronting Eggs about hitting Tara, I immediately thought of the Jerry Springer show. You could always tune in there and count on some dark-skinned Black people to act out in public. It's what kept viewers watching after week after week. The image of the predominately white bar patrons in the background also perpetuates a subtle message: Black family dynamics are traditionally dysfunctional, but hey, at least we're not those people. This is a core belief that runs deep in the South. It is this hinted division that helped to keep poor whites and poor Blacks at each other's throats or at a vocal distance.
Lettie Mae's moment of weakness smacked of plot convenience. If this is a woman who could refuse to bail her daughter out of jail, it totally threw me out of the story that she would pull a gun on her own nephew and allow Tara to escape. Lettie Mae seeking her child's love is not impossible for me to believe, but it's not in the context of the scene. It doesn't add up. Unspoken verdict: Dysfunctional Black mother effs up yet again. Some Colored peoples just got it like that on TV.
Tara, Eggs, and the Hunter's Soufflé scene smacks of the cannibal Nigerians from District Nine. If there's any outright cannibalism to be shown onscreen, of course, show the dark-skinned Black people engaging in it. One can take the ooga-booga out of the jungle but sooner or later it's going to come back up in these here civilized parts. Notice, Maryann does not partake in the soufflé. She merely incites. She licks blood. Big deal. She didn't chew and swallow onscreen. Yes, Maryann's served questionable fare to white people earlier, but those scenes did not get the screentime this did. This time, the audience knows whose heart it was that Tara and Eggs are feeding on. They get to connect to the primal horror of bestial Black people. The scene has shock value. It's something worthy of the infamous Turner Diaries.
Oh, and lest we forget, whenever there is a possessed evil being their eyes turn Black and the evil itself is represented by a swirling Blackness. Then Maryann herself, like the vampire Lorena, is dark-haired and evil. Didn't the dictionary analysis scene in the movie Malcolm X already point out the power of negative associations with Black and Darkness? We're talking visuals here—the most potent delivery system for the propaganda du jour. Juicy archetypical stuff guaranteed to be sopped up by an unwary mainstream audience.
I'm having an internal struggle over whether Tara being the reason for Maryann's presence in Bon Temps is the lowest True Blood season 2 moment or if it is the death of Eggs. But, I'll start with Tara. Now I have it under advisement that the Maenad's role in the books is quite different from the HBO series. Yet, if Tara didn't get into trouble with Maryann, Sookie wouldn't have to become involved either. So when one wants to get to the root of a problem with a demonic force—always choose the Black woman to be the cause. Nobody but those PC naysayers will ever question it.
Maryann's involvement couldn't possibly result from Sookie's own doing. She's an innocent party. What terrible luck Sookie has in choosing such dysfunctional friends like Tara. Well-meaning Sookie told Eggs the truth of what he did and Eggs just cracked. Look at that, Tara's love interest, another Black person, has just been shot in the head by her white, ex-crush Jason. And Jason's cop buddy is going to cover up the murder. Viewers like Jason and he's an important part of the series so it must be okay to do something like that.
Hmmmn. Maybe this also means Tara will have to go crawling back to Sam or Jason for comfort. I could deal with Sam, but dread the idea of Tara taking up with her lover's killer. No more freaking Monster's Ball PLEASE. It's as if the only lasting love Tara will ever receive is from white people. Nope. Besides, Tara can't possibly have a functional relationship on par with Sookie's tryst with Bill. Sookie and her family have been saving Tara from her circumstances since...well...since that particular storyline started.
Sorry. I jerked at the same moment Eggs' brain matter started flying across the screen. Eggs. The name is also a synonym for balls. I know it's supposed to be a joke since his name is Benedict. I am supposed to chuckle because a Black man has been named after a body part. Let me stop. So the tragedy of Egg's death is now compounded by the fact that a major series character has perpetrated the crime. Jason has too high a following for me to feel certain that Eggs will get any justice. Yeah, it was all a terrible accident because Eggs looked so menacing. This is called dramatic irony or visual proof that this is what STILL happens to men who look like Eggs. Shoot first; ask questions later. I wonder how many copycats will be tempted to emulate what they see on TV. It happened with that reality TV series, Jackass, you know.
Lastly, I would like to include a link to some handy-dandy tropes I did not address when composing this piece. I restrained myself.
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/OnceAcceptableTargets
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ScaryBlackMan
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SassyBlackWoman
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SortingAlgorithmOfMortality
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NiceJobBreakingItHero
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TwoferTokenMinority
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
I regret to inform you...I'm not part of the target demographic in this case, either. I want to watch shows and enjoy them, not break out the verbal equivalent of an edged weapon. Sh*t.
Monday, September 14th, 2009, I'd just finished watching episodes 7-12 of True Blood season 2 at the home of dear friends. Yup. I'm back on my soapbox again. I'd had moments, last season, where I found myself bristling while watching True Blood, but the good moments outweighed the bad, so I kept watching. Now I feel as if I've been visually and dramatically B*tch-slapped. Other than the incidents that I shall address in this post, I found the remainder of True Blood season 2 quite satisfying. I shall pick up my wounded pride and eventually follow a True Blood season three.
I grew up watching People of Color and LGBT characters evolve on network television from nonentities, token representatives, into caricatures and back into caricatures again. Sometime about the 1980's, I drew an invisible line in my mind. I decided to blanket-forgive a certain incidence of foolishness due to the fact that Political Correctness had not yet become a cultural standard. By the way, being PC does not even begin to address the egregiousness of certain repeated tropes on TV, Cable, and in Movies. Actors Mantan Mooreland and Butterfly McQueen took the work given to them. But those roles should have long disappeared by now. No entity or law exists to require PC compliance or to prevent Ethnic and LGBT character-assassinations.
Understand, I am a storyteller. I totally get that conflict keeps people watching. However, there is an issue in visual media of using stereotypical archetypes. This, in my book, falls into the racist and bigoted propaganda camp. The visual medium influences social behavior. I'm sorry...this is a known fact. Take some responsibility and correct the error. True Blood has all of season 3 to do this.
Obviously, if the majority of producers and writers of a show do not come from a particular ethnic or sexual background, they do not automatically have a reason to consider the impact certain characterizations or plot elements have. Yet, I and others, would feel remiss in not speaking out on these points.
Let me begin with the positive.
I accept that the True Blood series centers about whatever Sookie Stackhouse is doing. The Blonde Barbie = Good Girl trope has been with movies since before Sookie. But Alan Ball expanded Lafayette in such a way that I prayed I would see something that had been missing from Queer As Folk, for example. Believe me, I know that the wonderful All-People Of Color headlining show, Noah's Arc, exists, but here is a strong Black Gay male character who has the potential to hold his own amongst an inclusive cast. I am likewise thrilled to have Tara, a beautiful, Black woman, draw an appreciative audience just as Nichelle Nichols playing Uhura once did. I appreciate how much Sookie and Tara feel they are "family."
And I love me some Lafayette. The last time, I was so fascinated with a dark-skinned Black male character was Simon Adebisi from Oz. I have heard some rumblings about Lafayette's being a drug dealer and a prostitute along with his gender-bending sexuality should be a problem. Given that I've been around some of my more outlandish bretheren and sistren, I find Lafayette's portrayal as being refreshingly dignified, despite these two other unsavory aspects of his life. I am relieved that Lafayette was not simply disposed of as in the actual books.
I am concerned, however, that his PTSD storyline will continue to emasculate him. With an ensemble cast, it is incredibly important to maintain the strong elements. Lafayette has amply repaid his 1st season sins—bring my girlfriend back even fiercer than ever! This will go far in being a positive depiction of a LGBT person. Deep down, Lafayette is a survivor. Represent!
It really hurt to watch Lafayette crumble under Maryann's influence. Mind you, Maryann already warped Tara and Eggs. Now we get to Lafayette and he can't hold the line either. I wanted one other holdout of color other than Sookie, Sam, and the vamps. All those characters share a common ethnicity. Naturally, Her Tangh-i-ness notes, their POC castmembers are the weaker ones. Yes, I know that the majority of white townspeople were influenced by the Maenad too, but see my prior argument.
When Lafayette has his outburst in Merlotte's after confronting Eggs about hitting Tara, I immediately thought of the Jerry Springer show. You could always tune in there and count on some dark-skinned Black people to act out in public. It's what kept viewers watching after week after week. The image of the predominately white bar patrons in the background also perpetuates a subtle message: Black family dynamics are traditionally dysfunctional, but hey, at least we're not those people. This is a core belief that runs deep in the South. It is this hinted division that helped to keep poor whites and poor Blacks at each other's throats or at a vocal distance.
Lettie Mae's moment of weakness smacked of plot convenience. If this is a woman who could refuse to bail her daughter out of jail, it totally threw me out of the story that she would pull a gun on her own nephew and allow Tara to escape. Lettie Mae seeking her child's love is not impossible for me to believe, but it's not in the context of the scene. It doesn't add up. Unspoken verdict: Dysfunctional Black mother effs up yet again. Some Colored peoples just got it like that on TV.
Tara, Eggs, and the Hunter's Soufflé scene smacks of the cannibal Nigerians from District Nine. If there's any outright cannibalism to be shown onscreen, of course, show the dark-skinned Black people engaging in it. One can take the ooga-booga out of the jungle but sooner or later it's going to come back up in these here civilized parts. Notice, Maryann does not partake in the soufflé. She merely incites. She licks blood. Big deal. She didn't chew and swallow onscreen. Yes, Maryann's served questionable fare to white people earlier, but those scenes did not get the screentime this did. This time, the audience knows whose heart it was that Tara and Eggs are feeding on. They get to connect to the primal horror of bestial Black people. The scene has shock value. It's something worthy of the infamous Turner Diaries.
Oh, and lest we forget, whenever there is a possessed evil being their eyes turn Black and the evil itself is represented by a swirling Blackness. Then Maryann herself, like the vampire Lorena, is dark-haired and evil. Didn't the dictionary analysis scene in the movie Malcolm X already point out the power of negative associations with Black and Darkness? We're talking visuals here—the most potent delivery system for the propaganda du jour. Juicy archetypical stuff guaranteed to be sopped up by an unwary mainstream audience.
I'm having an internal struggle over whether Tara being the reason for Maryann's presence in Bon Temps is the lowest True Blood season 2 moment or if it is the death of Eggs. But, I'll start with Tara. Now I have it under advisement that the Maenad's role in the books is quite different from the HBO series. Yet, if Tara didn't get into trouble with Maryann, Sookie wouldn't have to become involved either. So when one wants to get to the root of a problem with a demonic force—always choose the Black woman to be the cause. Nobody but those PC naysayers will ever question it.
Maryann's involvement couldn't possibly result from Sookie's own doing. She's an innocent party. What terrible luck Sookie has in choosing such dysfunctional friends like Tara. Well-meaning Sookie told Eggs the truth of what he did and Eggs just cracked. Look at that, Tara's love interest, another Black person, has just been shot in the head by her white, ex-crush Jason. And Jason's cop buddy is going to cover up the murder. Viewers like Jason and he's an important part of the series so it must be okay to do something like that.
Hmmmn. Maybe this also means Tara will have to go crawling back to Sam or Jason for comfort. I could deal with Sam, but dread the idea of Tara taking up with her lover's killer. No more freaking Monster's Ball PLEASE. It's as if the only lasting love Tara will ever receive is from white people. Nope. Besides, Tara can't possibly have a functional relationship on par with Sookie's tryst with Bill. Sookie and her family have been saving Tara from her circumstances since...well...since that particular storyline started.
Sorry. I jerked at the same moment Eggs' brain matter started flying across the screen. Eggs. The name is also a synonym for balls. I know it's supposed to be a joke since his name is Benedict. I am supposed to chuckle because a Black man has been named after a body part. Let me stop. So the tragedy of Egg's death is now compounded by the fact that a major series character has perpetrated the crime. Jason has too high a following for me to feel certain that Eggs will get any justice. Yeah, it was all a terrible accident because Eggs looked so menacing. This is called dramatic irony or visual proof that this is what STILL happens to men who look like Eggs. Shoot first; ask questions later. I wonder how many copycats will be tempted to emulate what they see on TV. It happened with that reality TV series, Jackass, you know.
Lastly, I would like to include a link to some handy-dandy tropes I did not address when composing this piece. I restrained myself.
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/OnceAcceptableTargets
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ScaryBlackMan
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SassyBlackWoman
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SortingAlgorithmOfMortality
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/NiceJobBreakingItHero
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TwoferTokenMinority
Peace,
Her Tangh-i-ness
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