mjh's blog

Apocalypto

I watched Apocalypto tonight. This is a case where the small screen made some things more bearable than they would have been on the large screen. It is a relentlessly, horrifically violent movie that is mostly about our inhumanity, although some would see love and redemption under all the blood and cruelty. Not me. I don’t know how constant Mayan sacrifices were, but this seemed quite a sausage factory.

I imagine pre-Columbian cultures knew more about solar eclipses than Mel Gibson seems to. Sure, the masses might have been agitated, but the priesthood would have seen it coming well in advance. Gibson ignores the hours-long process of an eclipse and then speeds up the fun part. Of course, so did the Simpsons recently. Who has time for an eclipse anymore. (Heroes was worse with total darkness that lasted an hour. I stopped watching after that.) But, Jesus, Mel, how could you show a full moon the night of the eclipse? How have we become so disconnected from Nature.

And what exactly is the danger of a well filling with water, assuming you know how to tread water? I hope Mel never tries to drown himself in a slowly filling bathtub or pool.

Ah, but it’s not a documentary and it is Hollywood, so lighten up, eh? It is wonderful to hear two and a half hours of Nahuatl and to see a semi-mainstream American movie with subtitles throughout. And nothing but brown skin. That’s pretty amazing, in and of itself. And the perhaps subtle message about human-caused environmental degradation was interesting. The market and Coliseum scenes were pretty cool, especially some of the hairstyles. If you need a sampler of piercings and tattoos, this may be the biggest collection available. So what if the climactic beach scene was far less surprising than finding the Statue of Liberty half-buried. It’s only a movie.

peace,
mjh

PS: I’m reminded of a John Boorman movie, The Emerald Forest (1985). I highly recommend that over this, even if it made the central character a white guy. And Chac (1975), the only other all-Nahuatl movie I’ve seen. That one was more mystical and far less violent. Nyacola posh!

PPS: For readers: Daniel Peters wrote three books, one each about Azteca, Maya, and Inca, as well as a more modern story featuring an anthropologist. I liked the Mayan one most (Tikal: A Novel About the Maya). (I couldn’t remember Peters’ name, but I remembered I discovered his books in the library because they were near all the Cadfael mysteries by Ellis Peters. Ages ago, I read books by the shelf. Back before the Web.)

This Week’s WTF?!

The signs that were distributed said “Obama Bin Lyin’ IMPEACH NOW”:

The “tea party” protests nationwide are being coordinated by the conservative public relations firm Freedom Works, which is run by former Majority Leader Dick Armey (R-TX). The tea parties are also being supported by Newt Gingrich, through his organization American Solutions For Winning the Future. Members of Congress, such as Rep. Jean Schmidt (R-OH), have appeared at previous rallies. In addition, Fox News’ Glenn Beck promotes the protests, and has launched a website publicizing the events.

Old Friends (a dream)

In the dream, I was sitting at the end of a long table in a setting like a library, although it may have been a restaurant. I was talking with a man from Indian. One of us spoke of another person we might both know. Another man from India joined us. (Not the person we had just discussed.)

My Droog, John Merck, appeared nearby, letting his presence be known without interrupting the discussion.

I got up from the table to hug John, who was much younger than he is in real life. When we ended our hug, John said, "You’re wearing potato pants!" I didn’t notice anything odd about my pants and John did not explain his remark.

John began to speak in an odd mock-accent he intended to be funny. I couldn’t understand much of what he said, even when he repeated it, but I knew there was a joke in the message as well as the medium. I was irritated.

Another old friend appeared in young form: Charlene came up with a 10 year-old dark-haired boy. I awoke.

47 in screen shots

I’ve started collecting occurences of 47 in screenshots:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2010981&id=1108374610&l=39d6859a26.

Struggle (a dream)

In the dream, I heard a woman describe a nearby body of water as too polluted to swim in. At that moment, I found myself standing on a rectangular concrete block a bit more than two square feet. This block was barely covered by water, although, somehow, my feet (socks, no shoes) were not wet. I was standing in the aforementioned polluted body of water, which appeared to be a reservoir. The block was part of a wall or walkway that formed a semicircle curving off to a point to my right about a quarter mile away. I realized I had to walk along the top of this wall to that distant point without falling into the polluted water. I walked, mostly confidently, nervous a few times.

Suddenly, there was an upheaval like a wave and the wall/walkway surged to the right. "It moves?!," I cried out loud with some exasperation. Somehow, I did not spill from my footing even as the wall swept to the right, toward the edge of the reservoir. This edge had a chain link fence atop another wall. I considered that I might be better off crawling along that wall, clinging to the fence, than taking my chances with the movements of the wave-wall.

The wall I was standing on began to move back, as if with a retreating wave and I decided to jump to the fence-wall. I fell into the water but scrambled out. I realized I might be worse off, because this wall had a very narrow ledge I had to stand on while clinging to the fence, but I had no other choice at this point.

I slid along the ledge, clinging to the fence. In places, the wall had pillars I had to squirm around.

In a few places, spiders had nests. These spiders were large, dull-black, and squarish, like badly drawn black widow spiders. I had to watch my movements even more closely as I maneuvered around the spiders.

Eventually, I arrived at a wall that was 90 degrees to the fence. I worked my way around the wall and the last spider. Around one corner I encountered three other people, stuck in similar circumstances. The farthest of the three could not go on, frozen with despair or fear. How was I going to get around this new roadblock?

I took the hand of the person closest to me and leaned away from the wall, my feet still on the narrow ledge. Like a pendulum, I swung out and around the other people and came back to the wall beyond the immobile one. This so delighted them all that hope was restored and I woke up.

This Week’s WTF?!

Read on for three examples of the meaning of ignoranus:

       THOSE WHO fear Rush Limbaugh wants President Obama to fail, need not worry. Obama is succeeding, succeeding at what he always sought to do — destroy this country. Here is your hope and change, Obama voters. I am sure you will be happy to see America in ruins. — A.V.P.

[mjh: Don't know how AVP failed to work socialist into this nonsense. As much as I hate the views of people like AVP, I don't think they are out to "destroy this country." That is in spite of all the damage they have actually done.]

       IS IT TIME yet to claim that the Obama administration is being run by a sinister cabal of “neolibs” whose philosophy is “Don’t let a good crisis go to waste; prolong it”? — B.E.

[mjh: Wait 8 years. In the meantime, STFU.]

       I DO NOT listen to Rush Limbaugh. He’s too liberal for me. — T.K.

[mjh: I do not listen to TK -- he's too scary for me.]

If You’ve Wondered Where I’ve Been…

My blogging frequency has fallen off. I don’t know if that’s a relief to my 3 readers, but I’ve been thinking about this change.

There is no question that the end of the Reign of Terror by Duhbya and BushCo has greatly reduced the bile I choked back for 8 years. Thank god. I hope Duhbya lives a long life and is forced to listen repeatedly to how badly he fucked up everything he attempted. I hope I live at least one day longer so that, following his peaceful and natural death, I can join the long line to piss, spit, or dance on his grave. See you in Hell, Duhbya.

As for Obama: Every day there is some bit of news that reminds me that, just as the wrong guy can do bad things constantly, the right guy can do good things at a similar pace. Obama is undoing and fixing what he can, all the while bending the reed more to the left.

And the Republicans: It is great to watch them shoot themselves and each other in the foot. I’m happy to see them drag their feet (and knuckles) as the rest of us try to move forward. Better — far, far better — is the infighting and bickering. I hope Meghan McCain kicks Ann Coulter’s ass. And I hope Lush Limbaugh remains king of the island of the damned.

Politics hasn’t been the only topic I’ve blogged about, so the end of our national nightmare can’t be the only explanation for my shift in focus.

Indeed, finishing my second book in 6 months might have given me more time for blogging, but I loved the return to no obligatory writing and to lazing about. Curiously, the habit of writing daily did not carry forward once the final deadline passed late in January. (I turned down Windows 7 for Seniors, which I dearly wanted to write but which started with a brutal deadline. By the way, I mostly like Windows 7, which is an improvement on Vista — which I also like — but a less dramatic change than from XP to Vista.)

Last but certainly not least: I let my friends infect me with the Facebook virus. There is much that I do not like about Facebook. There are many interface problems, not the least of which is denying one the ability to edit much of the text one enters. And all the different ways of looking at FB that make it seem fragmented and disorganized. And updates that appear and disappear in different places and at different times.

And yet, Facebook has become like email, in that I look at it repeatedly throughout the day, happy to see any update, saddened when there is nothing. I like knowing about the day-to-day lives of my friends. Social Networking is a Skinner box. I press the bar repeatedly and gobble up the random bits I receive. Believe me: Facebook does not deserve the time and attention it gets. Still, two out of three people who used to read this blog now are FB addicts, too, so, it is you, dear reader, the one who has remained free, who I wanted to speak to. I’ll be back when I can and I hope you’ll visit now and then. Thanks.

peace,
mjh

PS: I still spread myself around:
www.mjhinton.com/help/ is my computer blog
www.mjhinton.com/wild/ is my wilderness blog
www.flickr.com/photos/mjhinton/ is my photo blog

Hot Pockets

Merri and I rode the NM Railrunner train from Albuquerque to Santa Fe for a daytrip today. As I prepared to leave the house, I put a handful of coins in one of my pockets plus two spare rechargeable batteries for my camera.

Over about 6 hours, we rode to Santa Fe and walked about town. Shortly after 4pm, we boarded the return train and took seats on the upper level. We sat for 10 to 15 minutes, waiting for the departure. At some point, Merri put her hand on my leg and yanked it back, as if from a hot stove. Indeed, my pocket full of change and two batteries was extremely hot. As I gingerly extracted coins, I burned the tips of three fingers to blisters. One of the two batteries looked a little damaged. Once everything was extracted and laid out, it all cooled off quickly. My fingers still sting.

Weird science. I had an exposed circuit in my pocket, finger in the socket. peace, mjh

PS: The trip to Santa Fe was fun. The actual ride was the main event and was worth the trip. We had lunch at Tia Sophia and strolled around town. We toured the Georgia O’Keeffe museum. All along the way, we met people Merri knows. Especially in the State Capitol, where she knew many folks. On the ride back, we had a nice conversation with a woman who works for the Department of Transportation.

PPS: Ironically, my concerns about cameras and photography on the train had been for naught. The subject never came up. There was no official announcement and there wasn’t much I felt deprived from photographing.