Anger Management

Stank on ice. Rarely do I see a movie that is so aggressive in its badness. Usually bad movies are either cookie-cutter, paint-by-numbers committee creations (most), or so bad they have some entertainment value. This was neither. I prayed for death.

Avoid.

Scott Bairstow is God

Watched the “Touched by an Angel” series finale last night with a mixture of relief and fascination. Relief that it was over, and fascination that it lasted so long (9 years!). They chose to end the series with a storyline where Roma Downey’s angel Monica encountered a drifter handyman played by Scott Bairstow, who turned out to be The Big Man Himself.

Bairstow was accused of making a school boiler explode, killing lots of students and teachers in a small town. But of course he didn’t do it – it was Satan, portrayed by, get this, David Ogden Stiers. And how did The Big Red One manage it? He convinced a mentally challenged man to crank up the boiler so he could warm up a cardboard box filled with kittens.

I. Am. Not. Making. This. Up.

In the midst of this head-shaking spectacle, which included a song performed by local sheriff Randy Travis (see previous paragraph), I realized what has bugged me so much about TBAA. It’s so external. According to the show, angels, God, Satan are all real beings wandering among us. There’s never any mention of people’s innate goodness, or that faith is, by definition, unknowable.

On the show, people do things not because they are the right things to do, but because an angel grabs their hand, is lit with heavenly light, and commands them. The literalness of the show kills it as entertainment, insults people of genuine faith, and makes it an easy target for ridicule.

You could do a show about the real struggles people have with faith, and what it means to them. But it wouldn’t sell.

I wrote the following a long time ago as a weblog post, but never published it. I decided it was time to broaden things out a little at words mean things. So here it is.

You Didn’t Ask, But Yes I Am

Coming out is a uniquely absurd process. It involves discussing something with people, often with great angst, that?s really none of their business. But the absurdity doesn?t make it any less important or, sadly, any funnier. (Well, maybe it is funny to think of a man sitting down with his parents and saying gravely, “Mom, Dad, I just thought it was important that you know that I like sex with women.”)

It?s also absurd because it never ends. There?s always some new bridge to cross, just when you thought you?d crossed them all. And each bridge brings with it a whole new set of problems ? should this be in person, or will over the phone or in an e-mail be OK? Do you bring it up, or just plan to launch in when sexual identity somehow works itself into the conversation? What will each person’s reaction be? How will this change our relationship?

“Coming out” in itself is a loaded term. It suggests revealing a shameful secret: “It came out that he only had sex with llamas, and that only by the light of the full moon.”

And once you do come out, you have a whole host of semantic issues to confront. Are you homosexual, gay, bisexual, queer or lesbian? Why do you even have to pick one ? is “Bob” suddenly out of fashion? How much are you defined by your sexuality? What do you say when the words “fag” and the like are used? Do you speak up or just hold your tongue?

And what do you call the person you are sleeping with ? boyfriend, lover, significant other, partner? [Ed. note: Sort of academic right now. But one does want to be prepared.] I agree with comedian Judy Gold who said of the last term, “It sounds like we own a Mailboxes Etc. together.” “Husband” you hear sometimes, but that calls to mind all those thorny legal and religious issues about marriage. (Don?t get me started.) Not to mention all the social baggage of the terms “husband” and “wife.”

But for all their baggage, “husband” and “wife” are important linguistic shorthands. “My wife and I went out shopping for furniture yesterday” doesn?t immediately drag the listener into the realm of what those two got up to in the bedroom the night before. Where are the generic terms for gay couples (See? When I said “gay couple” ? mental images?) that straight couples take for granted? (Don?t even get me started on “straight” and “gay.”) I guess they won?t appear until the two kinds of couples are considered equivalent ? and we?re a long way off from that.

Being gay is just one part of me. An important part, but only a part. The dictionary just needs to start keeping up.

A Mighty Wind

Watched the new Christopher Guest movie (Spinal Tap, Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show) over the weekend with my family. I think it’s my second favorite of the group, after “Spinal Tap.” I didn’t much care for “Best in Show,” the one everyone seems to love; I don’t even remember much of it, other than Parker Posey’s freak-out over a stuffed dog toy.

What makes “Mighty Wind” so fascinating is the tone. Most of it is in the same vein as the others – jokey and fun, with some great sly lines that you laugh at and then find even funnier later. (I’ll never forget the line, “We were at a hootenanny, and we were jamming with the Klapper Family.”)

But the centerpiece for me was Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara as “Mitch and Mickey,” a famous 60s folk duo who split but got back together for the reunion concert chronicled in the movie. Their story and interaction was touching and “real” in a way Guest doesn’t usually attempt. Levy and O’Hara are brilliant, and they bring the movie into surprising territory.

Strongly recommended.

Marshall gets a girlfriend!

Most of tonight’s (finally) new “Alias” passed in a fog. I believe David Carradine was in there somewhere. And I got a phone call in the last five minutes of the show, which I took (testimony to how it wasn’t grabbing me), and the closed captioning was hard to follow.

But what I do remember is that Marshall Flinkman, the geeky tech, finally has a love interest – Amanda Foreman, who played the caustic Wiccan Megan on “Felicity.” I’ve sung Marshall’s praises before, so you can imagine how pleased I am they are finally allowing him to have a life. More Marshall, less Rambaldi. If you ask me.

Coming back to my apartment just now, I said out loud to a plant looking not so well, “I don’t know how to take care of you. If I did, I would.”

What this says about me, I don’t know.

Away we go

Flying out to the Washington, D.C. area tomorrow morning to visit my grandmother. Back Sunday afternoon. In the meantime, visit people on my links list, and be sure to buy lots of shares of words mean things on Blogshares. See you next week.

Happy Birthday, Mom

For those who aren’t lucky enough to know my mother personally, I’ve collected a few of my favorite posts about her. Happy Day, Mom. I love you.

Law-and-order candidate
A Christmas story
Forrest Gump
Happy Mother’s Day
E-U-C-K

New Fox Reality Show to Determine Ruler of Iraq

U.S. General Jay Garner (Ret.) will host the show under the auspices of the Pentagon. The three celebrity judges will be choreographer and former Chrysalis recording artist Toni Basil, internationally renowned hairstylist Vidal Sassoon, and television star Kevin Sorbo.

As John has said, thank goodness the Onion hasn’t yet been shut down by the government.

Own a Piece of History! Proof that spam can be both funny and sad at the same time.