"I am at a loss to conceive how a man should permit himself to write anything that would be truly disgraceful to a woman, or why a woman should be censured for writing anything that would be proper and becoming for a man."

24 July 2014

50 Shades of No Way in Hell

There's a trailer out for that movie now... that movie based on a series of atrociously written books with derivative Twilight-esque plot which has done more for the bondage sex toy industry than any other piece of pop culture in years, while simultaneously flaunting a horribly abusive relationship as healthy, sexy, and desirable.
So yeah, I'm biased. There was a part of me, however, my own masochistic-for-terrible-things side if you will, which thought that maybe, someday, I'd sit myself down and watch this atrocity. Once it's out on streaming/DVD of course, where the drinks are plenty, the pause button at the ready for vomit-inducing moments, and there is a decided lack of horny housewives surrounding me. Then I saw Jamie Dornan in The Fall.
For those unaware, The Fall is a Netflix series starring Gillian Anderson as a detective who comes to Belfast from England to run an internal/external investigation on the police force and, particularly, a murder inquiry regarding a young woman. The one young woman turns into several by the end of the series, all fitting a distinct aesthetic the killer finds appealing. That killer is Jamie Dornan, and in a rare turn for what could be an extended storyline for a basic procedural, it isn't just the view of the cops we get. We see the killer in his everyday life, as a grief counselor for parents of children who have died in tragic circumstances. We see him at home with his wife, a nurse, and young son and (quite possibly burgeoning psychopathic) daughter. We see him running, stalking, breaking into victims homes, fantasizing about them, and you know, eventually killing them. We see the aftermath; we see his family and his marriage crumbling. We see him nearly kill the babysitter when she finds a token from one of his kills (and her skin-crawling attraction to him even after this incident). We see him wink knowingly at his creepy daughter when she asks if they're driving past a murder scene. We see him as a fully fledged person, and as a killer. It's unsettling to say the least and genuinely terrifying at times. And it is masterfully done. This is all eerily similar to the kind of guy Christian Grey would be in real life (sans the obscene amount of money) as opposed to the demented fairy tale version that appears in print and, likely, on screen.
The first look we have of Jamie Dornan as Christian Grey in the trailer holds that same intensity and predatory look he gets when he's getting ready to murder women -- women who look eerily like the "50 Shades" girl, Ana.

This is my plea to women everywhere: If you still think the idea of Christian Grey is sexy and desirable, if you think having your own uncertainty ignored in favor of a man taking control of you and 'teaching' you to be his object is a positive portrayal of relationships, even if you just think the idea of a little bondage and fetishism in a mainstream movie is naughty in a good way, before you see 50 Shades of Grey, or pick up one of those books again, watch The Fall. Really watch it. Pay attention to how this man acts in public and in private. You may still see something appealing in Christian Grey afterwards, but hopefully at least some part of your brain will register the difference between poorly- written fantasy and a more grounded portrayal of what control-hungry men are really like.

15 July 2014

Weirdus Interruptus

Today's standard post will be replaced by the new "Weird Al" video, because... well. He kind of says it all.

02 July 2014

Haunted by the Signs

One of these days I'll stop harping on about life's little (or not so little) signs and get on to more exciting things like anti-hero worship, purple shirts of sex, hand porn, netflixing your time away and more (really, I have a list). However, the reason for my day skip in posting schedule happened because I was a bit taken aback by something that occurred yesterday.
Understatement -- I came thiiiiiiis close to having a mini breakdown.
See, it's all well and good when you're on the lookout for signs during life, and when you're getting encouraging nudges to certain things. It's kind of empowering to feel like your current situation of being trapped in a soul-sucking job that barely pays your bills is not the right choice for you, because YOU say it isn't, and life is encouraging you in fits and starts to seek out other possibilities.
It's not so refreshing when the universe slaps you in the face with just how out of place you are.
Imagine you're living in a home and the home is, potentially, haunted. You feel uneasy there. Just being in that environment drains you. It's kind of a nebulous feeling and you're constantly uncomfortable and stressed. Occasionally the furniture rearranges itself and you're deeply unsettled, but you take the oddly stacked chairs off the table and move on with your day. You can't afford to move, but you're looking at other places nonetheless. You're trying to make a plan of escape, but it might take awhile. Then, one morning, out of the blue, you hear a voice. You don't just hear it, there's an apparition with it. A spectral presence with only slight transparency comes right up to you, inches from your face, looks you right in the eye, and says, "GET OUT."
That, in essence is what happened to me yesterday. At my job.
Needless to say I didn't need any coffee after that encounter -- I was shocked into alertness. And then I panicked. And then I got angry. And then I tried to once again look at the wreckage this poltergeist has made of my life and tried to put some logical reasoning in place. There was a fair amount of denial and bargaining internally with what I saw and heard. So by the end of the day I wasn't good for much beyond going home, facebooking, twittering, and Netflixing.
Today is a new day, however. The presence has made itself known loud and clear and I don't intend to ignore it. I'm getting out. Soon.
But I'm still going to do it on my terms -- no matter how many times you rearrange my furniture or drag me towards the abyss of the TV.

Please don't kill me giant demon, I wanna be in the sequel!

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