A Work in Progress and Site Updates

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ Leave a comment

Which is exactly what I am calling this Blog. After spending an afternoon yesterday toggling around with WordPress, I have managed to add what I think will be automatic posting to my Facebook and LinkedIn accounts as well as allowing other people using the two applications, along with tumblr and such to follow me and even post comments. I am not sure if this is the case, but that is the assumption that I’m working on. I do wish I could make this compatible with BlogSpot links (because I know a lot of people on there) and such, but I am technologically challenged and I have to deal with one thing at a time.  I am still confused about the Publicize option to gain more traffic here (WordPress explains Sharing more easily and it is supposed to be a little more involved), but I might still be able to do something with that with my future posts.

One thing that I know I did, however, was allow the creation of an Email Subscription Button on here. So if anyone wants to follow me by email, the button is on the lower right side of the screen under the other buttons. I would definitely–and always do–appreciate the visit.

Doing these things yesterday has hit home the fact that there is still a lot I have to do with this Blog: particularly with regards to its aesthetic. I have, at this time, no idea how to approach making my Blog either more fancier or making a simple and elegant style of my own. I do want to customize it a bit, but like I said I am still trying to figure out how to go about it. Also, to be honest, I am more interested in writing things on here than I am about working on appearances, but I also know that tailoring my Blog’s appearance to suit its personality (whatever that is) is also more key in making more my own. And look at this way: you get to watch me learn with this application too along with my writing.

I had planned to do some writing on here today, but stuff has come up and we will have to see if that will still happen. In the meantime, let’s see if I can further this experiment a little more.

ETA: I am also considering fully completing my Twitter account, though I am still up in the air about it as well as revising my About section or my profile. We shall see.

Born this Way or Created: Do You Care About Where your Superheroes Come From?

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ Leave a comment

I’ve mentioned before that when I was a boy I used to collect comics trading cards. I also used to collect old comic books and I was very fascinated with superhero origin stories which–given what I have become–makes a lot of sense in retrospect. It’s true: I really liked to find out secret identities, but also specifically how these heroes became heroes.

It was always really interesting: from radioactive spider-bites, to solar rays, to cosmic radiation, gamma radiation all the way to specific–and often traumatic–incidents in their lives. They could have been accidentally irradiated like the Fantastic Four and the Hulk, sent away from an alien world like Superman, endowed with power like the Green Lantern and the Silver Surfer, self-made like Batman and Iron Man, or purposefully engineered to be strong like Captain America and his super-soldier serum. And there are so many other examples. I was really intrigued by these heroes and beings that “just are”–that had always had their powers or embodied them such as Eternals or what-not–did not really do it for me. I would call the above kind of superhero an accelerated, endowed or a created being.

These are examples of what I really liked in my childhood. Then along with these I was introduced to superheroes that were actually born with their powers and abilities. To be honest, I didn’t really take to them as much. At the time, the only thing that fascinated me about the X-Men was the fact that they all had different abilities and a story forming between their encounters. Mutants didn’t really have the origin stories with regards to their powers that I’d been so intrigued by and it wasn’t until I was reaching the latter stages of prepubescence that my views began to change with regards to those who were born as mutants or with power.

At this stage in my life, particularly with regards to the X-Men, I saw people born with power who basically were ostracized from mainstream society and lumped together into something of a “race” or group. So at first, I really sympathized with them being discriminated against: especially Rogue and Jean Grey who I had something of a crush on, and their stats on my cards were fascinating. But it wasn’t until I aged a little more that I saw they had their own origin stories and while they hadn’t been endowed with power, they had been forced to live with the consequences of having it–with some of their mutations being such as they can’t afford to even have secret identities because they are their identities–and they also learned how to hone and use their abilities in unconventional ways. In the latter case, I really underestimated what Wolverine was and I have since then realized the scope of a being that ages slowly and regenerates from most damage over time.

After a while I leaned towards the mutants because I felt like an outcast a lot of the time. On the other hand I have also considered this: even though some mutants have had difficult times growing up being different, you have to figure one other fact. Remember, a lot of the endowed or created heroes had “ordinary lives” before they were changed. A lot of these heroes can also be considered to be “freaks” and “outcasts” because of what they can do. Does it really matter whether they were born with a mutant/alien gene or if their genes were changed by outside forces? And where do you draw the line? One can argue that a mutation–whether given at birth or endowed later in life–is an element of fate either way. And we can go into whether fate exists or not, but really–when it comes down to it–just how different are these two classes of heroes?

Do they have different experiences? Yes, and even though X-Men is in many ways a social commentary on group-labeling and racism and rejecting “the Other,” both they and other heroes fight for the status quo. Yet while some other heroes fight on the fringes and others become accepted as part of the status quo, others like the X-Men seek to peaceably change it from within due to acceptance. It seems in that way Superman has it easier in Metropolis than the X-Men have in the rest of the world. But then perhaps these differences are less about the different groups of heroes and more to do with their differences as individuals.

So, while I do tend to still lean towards mutants nowadays, I think that a good story and background can make any superhero–whether born or made–a bad ass. And really, in the end aren’t all superheroes–no matter where they come from–self-made?

After the Fiction

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ Leave a comment

I wrote my first bit of fiction on here yesterday called Lethe and Mnemos. I haven’t directly linked anyone to it yet because I’m not sure how it turned out and it’s kind of an experiment: like a lot of the things that I planned to put in “Mythic Bios”: both on and offline. I’ll leave it up to you if you want to read it and the subsequent cycles of the thing that I plan.

When I first started “Mythic Bios” as an online Journal, I thought I would be writing a lot more fiction on here than non-fiction. It does make more sense though that I’d be writing articles on films, books and comics on here as well as some of my own personal thoughts. Writing stories takes time and a certain focus: at least on my part.

But this isn’t a bad thing. Not at all. Perhaps it makes more sense for me to have my creative notebook exist offline and have some commentary and popular culture articles be more public here. I also realize that anything I write on here in terms of fiction may well be construed as being published and it would be difficult to send these stories elsewhere.

However, this will not stop me. “Lethe and Mnemos” started off as a joke: or more specifically a creative “half-joke.” It came from a series of “oral stories” that I tend to make when I’m in a brainstorming mood and talking out loud: a more fanciful way of saying that it came from the place where I sometimes “make shit up on the spot.” Originally, Lethe and Mmemos were just the names of the different philosophies or orders of the people that I planned to combat each other and it was meant to be somewhat semi-silly. I do have another story that I wrote down previously that I can adapt onto here as well, and I think at some point I might do that.

I can always self-publish these stories–beyond them simply being on my Blog–and some of the things I come up with deserve to be serialized and have more immediate viewers. I also admit that I really like to have an audience for my work and thoughts and experiments like “Lethe and Mnemos” can be fun.

I will admit though that the above linked story probably has its faults: perhaps being a little too ostentatious and pseudo-philosophical–really just being plain trite at times–but maybe posting my other “Lethe and Mnemos” story might show it something of the way it was supposed to be. Perhaps some of the silliness will offset the cliche: like parodies are supposed to. Still, it was experiment to try it in that tone and I don’t regret it. After all, I’ve learned that a combination of silliness and seriousness–that parody that says something–can be very effective a story.

In other news, I’ve applied to another contest The CZP/Rannu Fund: specifically for the short story segment of their contest. The deadline was yesterday and it was yet another last minute entry on my part. Luckily, I had a short story on hand that I was proud of, and worked on enough to actually send. I have not heard back from them yet as to whether they had received the entry and I know I had some formatting issues with regards to sending it to them (try copying and pasting a Word document into inline email plain-text format sometime without it becoming single-spaced and eliminating all of your underlining: it can be a lot of the fun that it is not). But I was fascinated enough to see where I can go with it, so we will see what happens.

In the meantime, I need to write more stories and send them out. I also need to keep writing, and that is exactly what I am going to do.

Lethe and Mnemos

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ 1 Comment

They face off on the rooftop past the wee hours of the morning. Lethe leans against the wall as he watches Mnemos pace around.

“I remember everything!” Mnemos shouts, the words not quite meeting the movement of his lips. There is a crazed, manic look in his eyes as he raises his hands into the air.

“It is easier to forget,” Lethe shakes his head enough to make the watching of his mouth in correlation to the rhythm of the words presumably coming out of it all but impossible: or at least very difficult to even the discerning eye.

“Is it?” Mnemos turns to glare at the other, “I don’t think so.”

Lethe doesn’t say anything to merit subtitles or otherwise. In fact, he somehow manages to look down even further at some place beyond both of them, or at least his own shoes.

“There, you see?” Mnemos laughs, “it is hard to forget. But it is so easy to remember. So much so that it hurts. It literally hurts. Because I remember it, I remember … all of it …”

“You shouldn’t do that,” Lethe gets to his feet, as though finally deciding something, “it will not help you.”

“Nonsense!” Mnemos snarls, but then slowly begins to smile, “Remember, I’m of–no, I am–the Order of the Mnemos. I am the sum total of all our experiences.”

“Then you have no identity. Just as it is in the Order of Lethe.”

“You’re wrong,” Mnemos shakes his head almost pityingly, “I am the culmination of all the identities within my Order. I am all of our curiosity, our happiness, our joy. And … also our pain, our nostalgia, our regret and our despair. Our … anger,” he brings out the long sword that has so far been sheathed at his side until this moment, “and we have a long memory.”

Lethe sighs and slowly reaches underneath his coat, “Your self is an illusion, as is your anger. It is irrelevant. You are irrelevant,” he draws out a short katana blade and holds it loosely at his side, “in the grand turning of the universe, your ego will ultimately be forgotten.”

“You should seek to preserve yourself, Lethe,” Mnemos holds his sword–a bright silver blade–directly in front of him with two hands, his eyes burning with power, “Because I remember all the times you have beaten me, and I’ve defeated you and this time, you don’t have a chance.”

“I have already forgotten,” Lethe waves his dark katana casually, but still keeping it on his opponent, “You think you are powerful because you are drawing from your pain now: a quick and easy solution, but it is only temporary. You should really seek to eliminate your sense of self as Lethe has.”

“So, you think you’ve eliminated your instincts towards self-preservation?”

Lethe’s coat flows behind him, “That is the goal, yes. All memories are detraction and self-preservation is the ultimate muscle-memory of them all. This battle will assure it.”

Mnemos grins, “Then maybe it’s not the self-preservation urge that’s your weakness, Lethe.”

“And what–from your wide experience and knowledge of all things–is it?” Lethe’s voice is casual as he angles his blade with one hand so that its tip faces Mnemos.

“Self-pity.”

Mnemos lunges for Lethe who smoothly meets his opponent. Metal clashes against metal , singing and shrieking loudly in the air and then fading into the distance. It is like a metronome: fading in, fading out, fading in and out of existence. Mnemos is a flurry of extravagant strikes and slices seeking to overpower his opponent. Lethe responds with parries, surgical jabs and feints: almost casual movements but looking for an opening … looking to bring the other down.

The air wavers between them from the sheer force of their blows. It is an epic battle: one that can go on for longer than most people live–for pages–but unlike the most overly dramatic duels, this is a decisive conflict: as most battles in the real world are often intended to be.

The two jump away from each other and face each other down one more time.

“Remember the lactic acid in your muscles,” Mnemos shouts, “The exhaustion in your mind, the weariness of all the battles that came before.”

“You forget your false confidence and the reason you ever fought to begin with.”

Mnemos flinches, slightly as the air wavers between them again, but then his grip on his sword hilt tightens, “You will never escape your memories, disciple of the Order of Lethe.”

Then Mnemos charges forward, as does Lethe. Their blades reach past each other …

Moments later, Mnemos is slumped onto the ground. Lethe is on his knees. Their swords lie away from each other crossed over each other. There is silence as the sun begins to rise from above the rooftop.

Lethe sighs: a hollow vessel, an instrument for wind to pass through, “You are already forgotten. As is this battle.”

Lethe gingerly sits down and manages to cross his legs. He closes his eyes. His calm, expressionless face somehow relaxes even more.

“It is easier to forget,” he says, having already forgotten that he repeated himself. Something quirks at his lips: even as tears begin to flow down his face and the first cycle between memory and forgetfulness ends.

Film Review: The Chernobyl Diaries: A Foregone Conclusion

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ Leave a comment

Yes, there are going to be spoilers.

So yesterday, after my lengthy digression on The Avengers, I went to see a film I’d been intrigued by for a while. The premise of Chernobyl Diaries caught my imagination almost immediately following my viewing of the first preview. Pripyat was a city in Ukraine founded in 1970 to house the Chernobyl nuclear power plant’s workers and their families until the disaster of 1986. The city–and most of the possessions of its inhabitants–was abandoned almost immediately following a flood of deadly radiation into the area.

Think about it: somewhere out there in Ukraine is a city still stuck in the mid-late 80s Communist period–a place that could have easily seen all three of George Lucas’ Star Wars original trilogy like everyone else before its doom–gathering dust, rust, pools of water, weeds, and trees growing out of and into buildings. It is a ghost city where abandoned swing-sets still sway in the winds, old photographs lie on the floors in abandoned homes, and a ferris wheel still stands to celebrate a May Day Festival that never happened. There could even be collector’s items there–such as a tattered first issue of Action Comics–that would prove just as poisonous to a would-be collector as Kryptonite is to Superman. In a lot of ways, it is more sad than creepy. There is so much tragedy there–soaked as indelibly into the stones as the radiation that has doomed it–that it makes you wonder why it happened: makes you wish that it never did. When I first saw Pripyat and the Chernobyl reactor looming ominously in the distance, I wondered what it would have been like had the disaster not happened. But that is neither here nor there: just like legacy that Chernobyl has left us, or that we left it.

If any place could be considered cursed by human action and hubris over Nature, this area would be one of those places. When I came into this film, I thought that the protagonists would be dealing with psychic manifestations of the ghosts within Chernobyl and Pripyat–of the loss of potential and life made incarnate–while at the same time making you–the viewer–wonder if any of it is truly happening and if its not the protagonists having hallucinations by the slow encroaching inevitable horror of man-made radiation poisoning.

Instead, we have a different movie. Extreme Tourism is something I have heard of and I also know that there have been many tours near Chernobyl and possibly into the area even before this film was made. I was really surprised. I always thought that the place would be a complete wasteland, but evidently Nature is more powerful than humanity. The protagonists were young–and I personally think stupid to risk themselves to radiation poisoning despite what their guide said about two hours being a reasonable amount of exposure–but they were all likable: which I’ve not seen happen often in horror movies these days. It actually made me sad knowing that even if they got out of this, they were still going to die from radiation and cancer. That in itself is horrifying enough.

The film plays on three fears and layers them well. The first is the radiation that will slowly kill them if they do not leave and even if they do, it will still be in them. I winced every time they picked something up in the city or dipped their hands into presumably irradiated water like their guide Uri did. The geiger counter they had in their possession as it crackled louder and louder and started to beep was like a timer to their death. Then there were the wild, crazed dogs that lived in the area that they had to avoid: a case of feral Nature turning on protagonists that had few resources to help them.

The main characters had the advantage in their general solidarity, if nothing else, and even when that solidarity was challenged by fear and the realization that they would not be able to leave the city before their two hours were up was offset by their mutual need to survive and their basic empathy as fellow travelers. But then: we have the creatures.

The creepy–the truly creepy thing–about the creatures is that we barely even see them. We just have hints of them: things from the corner of the eye, a distant photograph, a still smoldering fire, a limping shape behind a table in an underground room that hints at deformity, a recording of a car being turned over and people being taken, dead eaten soldiers, a sole, solitary little girl with her back to the protagonists, a flash of a multitude of distorted faces at the end and not much else. It’s as though the director of this film observed an age-old horror genre convention in not revealing what the monster looks like. The unknown is the most terrifying aspect of horror: especially as it comes for and consumes you.

In that sense, for all the trappings of modernism around it, Chernobyl Diaries is a classic horror story: relying less on sex, gore and spectacle and more on a slow, mounting, creepy horror: with the gothic romanticism and terrible majesty of a Nature have reclaimed civilization, a contamination for which there is no cure and little hope for surviving with each passing hour, and–lastly–the presence of monsters and the unknown lurking never too far away in the dark. All of three primary fears are interlinked and even interchangeable. After all, it is no coincidence that at the end of the film the creatures are referred to as “patients”: robbed of individuality by their nature, sick, and no longer even human. It was a film that started out slow–exceedingly so–and then became fast-paced with characters dying at an alarmingly accelerated rate.

I can see why the above elements–combined with the fact that the “diaries” part of Chernobyl Diaries barely plays any role in the film–might make modern horror and movie critics pause and heap negative reviews on it, but if you are a classical horror reader or viewer, you can definitely appreciate the grim fatalism–the inevitability–of the three-fold fear and its triumph over human curiosity and common decency that lies at the heart of this film. I give Chernobyl Diaries a four out of five.

Film Review: The Avengers and their Mythology Revisited

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ Leave a comment

There be spoilers here. You’ve been warned.

I wrote a very short review of The Avengers film a little while ago, but in light of much more detailed reviews and analyses: such as the relationship between genii Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, and Loki as master manipulator and challenger of the once and future geek status quo I thought that I might expand on some things a little more and maybe even respond to a few of these articles as well.

Remember, this is a spoiler alert: if you have not watched this film–and you should–then you have again been duly warned.

Avengers really reminded me of a lot of the lore that I used to read from Marvel cards and it totally played on the fandom that has generated around the Marvel universe and the superheroes that make up the Avengers team for decades. Again, I was at somewhat of a disadvantage myself in viewing this film because I have not seen Thor, or Captain America. Unlike Ex Urbe in the second link I posted, I knew that this wasn’t an extension of the great Ragnarok event that plagues the Nordic gods and it deals with the Marvel comics mythology instead: unfortunately I have been pretty rusty to that regard and having not been there in a very long or consistent time.

Each character was bang-on with regards to their comics incarnations as far as I remember. But like I said, I really like how they were played for the most part. If Captain America had been created in our time, he would been seen as a very transparent and tasteless living embodiment of propaganda. I know that during his Death in the comics world, there was a whole thing about selecting a new Captain America and showing just how different that Captain in our time would have been from Steve Rogers we know from WWII.

The Captain America in the film was played as a legendary hero–a relic of a certain moral structure that not even many people in his time or country embodied–and I like how he is seen as a piece of history: which for all intents and purposes he is. He is also still a human being who–while he follows orders–does not follow them blindly. After all, even after ages of suspended animation, Cap is not like the enemy soldiers he used to fight during the second World War. In fact, he makes reference to that time at one point in a very poignant but quick way that devolves into another battle.

Tony Stark is still a wise-ass that always thinks about contingencies, while Thor is still a strong being yet also very noble and cautious. I like that portrayal of the Asgard: because while his mythological archetype was generally stupid and little more than an over-sized brute that would have rivaled the Hulk in mentality and action, the Marvel Thor that we see is a being that wants to protect others and actually thinks about the implications of his advanced people’s presence and technology on the people of Earth.

I can’t say much about Black Widow and Hawk-Eye except to say that they seemed more like secondary characters compared to the others. I do like, however, how Loki plays on them: how he plays on both of them and you see as a viewer just how–for all everyone involved are supposedly superheroes–they are not all innocent. Certainly Samuel L. Jackson’s Nick Fury is as no-nonsense and as much of an “inglourious basterd” as ever: though a little more refined than the comics Fury (who I believe was a contemporary of Wolverine and Cap during WWII and he was the one who fought H.Y.D.R.A. instead of Cap) and in some ways very much more underhanded for the “greater good.”

I think though that the performances that really got me were Bruce Banner and Loki. First, let me deal with Dr. Banner. I have in fact seen both relatively recent films created around the Hulk, yet this film does something the others really don’t. Avengers looks at Bruce. You notice how I don’t say the Hulk and there is a reason why I do this in particular. In almost every other bit of media–film or otherwise–the green gamma beast is brought out for his spectacle effect and Bruce Banner simply tries to contain him. But here we see Bruce Banner as a person. We see a brilliant but haunted man who does not want to cause destruction and pain. He has suffered and yet despite this still tries to help people with his knowledge. He is a solitary person by his own perceived necessity if not by choice and in a lot of ways he is a very sad man.

A good portion of the film has people walking egg-shells around him and thinking they have contingencies in dealing with the “green nuclear djinn in a human bottle”: not realizing just how strong Banner actually is and how many “contingencies” he himself has undergone. Beth in her own review shows that the only person who doesn’t treat Banner as an accident waiting to happen or a potential resource is Tony Stark and she gives very compelling parallels between the two: to the point where I remembered Tony Stark taking a drink before dealing with Loki and actually wincing at that segment alone more than anything else in the film. They are both brilliant men that have their own demons. and they can relate to each other. However the difference is that Bruce Banner has a lot more control over the Hulk than people even think.

Personally, I think there is a difference between Banner being agitated enough to release him and purposefully bringing his alter-ego out. When he does the latter, the Hulk is in a lot more control and in fact–when it comes down to it–there is no difference between Bruce Banner and the Hulk. They are and always have been the same person. “The Other Guy,” that kept Bruce Banner from killing himself, is not just anger but a fury for passion and life and ironically as the film progresses you see Banner actually almost coming to terms with that. It is no coincidence how in the comics, Bruce Banner changes into the Hulk permanently yet manages to keep all of his intellect along with the righteous fury. Even in the movie, Banner says that the secret to controlling his power is that he is “always angry.”

And then you have the threat that brings all of these disparate beings together: Loki. Loki himself, like Thor, has his precedent in the Nordic mythological cycle. Loki is a trickster god and an agent of chaos. He is not biologically related to the Asgard deities but instead has Jotnar (or frost giant) blood in him. While Loki begins as a mischievous prankster, he ends up creating Ragnarok: the twilight of the gods. He transforms from trickster to destroyer. Perhaps in Thor, this role is prevalent as well in its own Marvel incarnation, but I want to talk about him in the film: something that I only alluded to in my earlier article on this Blog.

Loki feeds off of chaos and he is not an overt player. Ex Urbe really goes into immense detail with regards to Loki in the film, but let me just reiterate something I said in my last article in that he plays a really good game. He manipulates and feeds on the power of discord that the Avengers feel towards each other. His very presence caused their assembling and exacerbated the cracks between them. In many ways, he arranged it so that they were almost as dangerous as he and his allies were. As to how far his foresight goes–if he knew they and they particular would be chosen to deal with him–is another matter entirely.

As I said, Ex Urbe really looks at how clever Loki is. You notice, for instance, he barely ever fights and he likes to make his enemies think that they can always beat him. The moment Black Widow thought her interrogation strategy had worked on him, I knew she was screwed. Never try to trick a trickster or play their own game because they will beat you with experience. He sat back and let Captain America, Iron Man and Thor fight each other. And then, when he seemed to have failed in his mission to conquer Earth, he conveniently gets captured by Thor and they go to Asgard with the cube away from the wrath of the trickster god’s vengeful allies. All and all, I think he was right to postpone and then later ask for that drink.

I also really like the part where Loki is in Germany and he asks everyone to bow down to him and one old German man won’t who states, “Not to men like you,” and then later adds, “There are always men like you.” The thing that you need to understand is that Nordic mythology really played a powerful role in German culture. Others, including Richard Wagner, played off of these archetypes in the collective unconsciousness of the German and Germanic people. Wagner was also a really well-known anti-Semite and his operas were well loved by various members of the Nazi Party later on. Nietzsche referred to a figure of the “actor” or “demagogue in music.” Looking at Loki forcing everyone to bow in front of him–with the compelling words and presence of a trickster and “god”–with all of that historical resonance the immediate background and that old man standing up to him really put chills down my back.

In this, Ex Urbe might seem wrong in stating that Loki is attempting to help humans and gods beyond the status quo: that he is just another fascist power. Of course, there is another way of looking at this in an analytical sense: that by posing as a dictator (and one really bad at ruling apparently and inefficient in other ways), he is making humanity challenge him and the established order of things. Remember that the role of a trickster deity in mythology is to challenge the status quo and subvert authority. A trickster also helps humanity by giving it something that can potentially destroy itself and stealing it from the divine order, but also creating an order with it. In addition, trickster gods can take a lot of physical punishment–a lot of it–and they almost seem to goad others into delivering it to make them think they have the upper-hand. In this way, Loki is almost a comic mockery of the things he rebels against, a Wagnerian parody and by serving as that cardboard cut-out effigy he helps to subvert it. So perhaps in that way, Loki is more like Nietzsche’s Zarathustra than his “demagogue in music.”

Then there is Captain America’s reply to that–which actually plays well into the above idea: if Loki is leading him and others by the nose. There is also something else Captain America says afterwards. When Black Widow refers to Loki and Thor as virtual gods, he states, “There’s only one God, ma’am. And I don’t think he dresses like that.”

While this last quote can be seen as very culturally chauvinistic, because there are many different beliefs out there, it definitely shows Cap as a relic of his time: as someone who views the world in a certain way. At the same time though, if looked at from a different perspective, Cap could be seen as stating that even these perceived gods and superheroes–least of all himself–are not above a greater morality or law of some kind. He interprets that as God. The others interpret it as something else. Loki probably interprets it as freedom of power and chaos.

Of course, there are other concepts of absolute powers or incarnations of concepts as well. Long after the film is over and Loki is captured, you find out that the invaders were working with someone behind the scenes. The leader of the invaders tells his real master that invading Earth will only bring destruction and Death. Notice how I capitalize *Death.* Neil Gaiman was not the only writer who created incarnations of certain facts of life in anthropomorphic figures. In the Marvel Universe, there are beings called Embodiments and while you do not see Death at the end, you do see the being that … serves her female incarnation. And if you have read the comics, you know who I am talking about and you begin to realize that Loki is not the only being that plans things out. This is the Marvel plots-within-plots structure in film form, social commentary and mythological cycles of sequential drama all done well by Joss Whedon.

I think that I am going to leave this off right here. All and all I really loved The Avengers. I never even thought of a movie based on them and it worked very well. The mythology–both comics based and older–created excellent resonance along with Whedon’s trademark snappy dialogue. I also look forward to its sequel and I wonder … just what was that small dagger that Loki stabbed Thor with towards the end of the film? And just what role will Death and her harbinger play in the scheme of things? I hope to find out soon enough.

ETA: Here is an obligatory and intriguing article by M. Leary on gods in Avengers and Marvel. Excelsior!

Mini-Opera Aftermath

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ Leave a comment

So, after the events of the Impromptu Mini-Opera Escapade I undertook with only three days to spare, I came up with two small supposedly five to seven minute operas. Like I said before, this is something I’d never done before until this point and, quite frankly, I didn’t really know what to expect. This was one of the great challenges of doing something like this: basically showing the judges my writing skill through a form which I was almost completely unfamiliar.

I came up with one concept and then after sleeping on it, I came up with another that ended up superseding it. So because I really want to talk about my recent works, here is something of an outline about what I did in writing them and what I learned.

Words on a Screen: A 16-Bit Opera on an 8-Bit Track was the unexpected piece of the two that I made. It was derived from the seed-story On Paper by A.L. Kennedy: a story about two lovers that maintain a long-distance relationship by letters across the world. It was a very interesting story that talked about how people can touch each other perhaps more intimately through correspondence and words than even face-to-face, but I didn’t really know what–if anything–I could do with it. I was more interested in doing something with Neil Gaiman’s “The Sweeper of Dreams.”

Then I read an example opera taken from this seed-story entitled Facing the Truth by Tamsin Collison: the English National Opera’s librettist. She took what was in Kennedy’s short story and expanded on it into an interaction between two Soloists texting each other and debating whether or not it would be a wise idea to meet in the flesh. The irony is that as they interact and contemplate their decision, they are already in the same coffee house but are completely physically unaware of each other. It really struck me just how much that reflects the human condition: how we are an inherently social species yet at same time we are separated by space and our own heads.

“Words on a Screen” was something of a response to both Collison and Kennedy. I thought about a scenario where two geeks meet on the Internet, fall in love, correspond through different media and then actually plan to meet and follow through with it. I also wanted it to deal with the themes of human communality verses isolation, and distance and connection as well. Some of the verses just seemed to flow into place, but for the most part the entire opera–such as it is–struggled with me and it took a day indoors, and a food and Calvin and Hobbes break to finish what I started. The aesthetic of the thing–resembling an online chat room transcript–was inspired once I finished typing the thing on this site. For all it was an unintended piece, I was very pleased with it and saw a lot of ways it could be used to challenge what the operatic form can actually be.

Then there was my intended piece that turned into something else: The Sweeper: A Teardown Epilogue. Like I said before, the story-seed for this miniature opera was Neil Gaiman’s The Sweeper of Dreams: a story about a being that cleans up the detritus of dreams once dreamers awaken or are finished with them. I have read this story before in Neil’s Smoke and Mirrors collection, and then on the Mini-Opera site and got to listen to Neil read it on there as well: which is always a pleasure. Tamsin Collison’s own libretto of the story, What Dreams May Come, was also really intriguing in that it was specifically from the point of view of the dreams themselves.

Reading the seed-story and Collison’s creative example made me really think about my very intricate idea. Unfortunately, I didn’t spend as much time on it as I wanted to and my original idea would have been much longer than the five to seven minute duration we were given. I also realized that I needed more research on certain details and I wasn’t as qualified in my own mind to use my idea in the way I wanted to as I thought at the time. I will pursue this outside of this context, but let me just keep on track here. Although Neil’s story dealt with the Sweeper on a purely distant third-person level and Collison created her libretto from the first-person collective perspective of the dreams, I started to ask myself a question: how does the Sweeper of Dreams feel cleaning up the dreams and nightmares of others? Isn’t it a lot of work to keep being on teardown duty? Doesn’t it get tiresome after a while? Would he get tired of the long hours between sleep and daydreaming and absolutely get fed up by harassment and abuse? And does the Sweeper of Dreams dream?

In the end, the libretto that I wrote ended up dealing with exactly these kinds of questions. I looked at a possibility as to what it would be like to be the Sweeper of Dreams. In retrospect, I am not sure how well this piece turned out. There are some elements from my first idea that I couldn’t resist adding in there as an example of what happens to those who refuse to have their dreams cleaned away, but I don’t know how well that meshes and flows in there. Also, I think the piece ended up being more like a Musical than opera material.

But hey, they were both ad hoc experiments: done on the fly and with only the examples I looked at. I got to make some new things and experiment with a new form. In addition, although I am not a musical expert or creator, I could almost “hear” something in the almost poetic verse rhythms that I ingrained into both pieces to some extent. This Challenge really made me think and I am grateful for that. It was totally worth doing and definitely worth being the first creative works to end up on my Blog.

May there be many more.

ETA: I just found out that the Script Entries have seemingly been all posted up on the Mini-Opera site here. Unfortunately, it seems as though “Words on a Screen” didn’t make it, but The Sweeper: A Teardown Epilogue did. It also seems a few few other people are making their librettos from the Sweeper’s perspective as well. It’s a pity about “Words on a Screen.” I really liked that one, but I will say that my “Teardown Epilogue” has its moments as well. I don’t know how I will do–the judges have to choose ten entries out of all the ones that are posted there–but you know I’m just glad that I will get some reading.

ETA: ENO added my Words on a Screen script after all. Hurray! 😀

As they might say in the opera business, may the best fat lady sing. 😉

Wise Words and Timeliness

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ Leave a comment

I really don’t have much more to add to the above video. I also don’t know how long this video will last given the mercurial and transitory nature of the Internet. I think it’s really interesting how I found this link–where Neil Gaiman is addressing the 2012 graduating class of the University of the Arts–a few weeks before my own Convocation at York.

He touches on a lot of different issues and points that I’ve been having to deal with and he has some very good advice as well. You know, I almost didn’t make this Blog. I’m a perfectionist and sometimes I get technologically challenged. I also tend to find myself in a place where I get used to doing things in a certain way and I have to fight myself to go beyond my comfort zone. I started writing this online journal to do exactly what Neil is talking about: to make my works seen.

Neil is right in that things are changing and there are different ways to have yourself and your work seen now. I thought to myself that if Neil or the Bloggess or even some of my friends could make Blogs to get their work “out there,” why couldn’t I? Yes, I know that this journal is not particularly decorative and I am still toggling with a lot of stuff here. Hell, I didn’t even know if WordPress would show my video link as something already embedded but I learned through some common sense trial and error instead of fretting … too much over it.

But more than the technicalities of this, I think there is something that Neil said that applies to my work and my current situation even more succinctly. He says in his speech to the graduates that he told someone to pretend to be someone who can do what they need to do. He didn’t say to pretend to do this, but rather to pretend to themselves that they can and just go with it from there.

And that is exactly what I am doing right now. I am pretending that my writing and my opinions as such are valid, unique things that deserve to be seen by others and this is how I am operating this Blog: just precisely like that. I’m going to pretend to myself–to actually and truly believe–that I can do this. Perhaps it isn’t perfect, but having something imperfect at least is a starting point and something to build upon and changing. It is something to work with. If you wait for the perfect clay, you definitely won’t make that sculpture or even get that clay.

I guess what I am saying is that this show will continue, and I look forward to revealing a lot more of what I can do, and what I can ultimately say: because, really, I just want to make “good art.”

Film Review: Joss Whedon’s The Avengers

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ 2 Comments

So, after a basically last minute scramble to do no less than two mini-operas for the contest that Neil Gaiman posted on Facebook, I found myself tired yet at the same time also full of energies. I will talk about just what was involved in making the two mini-operas soon enough. But today was Victoria Day in Canada and my dad and I decided to go see The Avengers movie.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a movie with my dad. I’ve been very preoccupied lately and I had to ignore the impulse not to go out anywhere today. Also, even though many of my friends liked this movie, I was still leery of it and the perfectionist side of me also hesitated: wanting to see all the individual movies of the superheroes involved in this film. Joss Whedon’s name as the Director also helped a lot in my decision and so I went to see what this was all about. So today, you’re going to get a little bit of a film review with very few–if any–spoilers for those of you who haven’t watched this yet.

Before I go on, I just have to add that I’d known the Avengers ever since I was a child. I collected three series of Marvel cards: including the holograms. I also read as many comics as I could get my hands on and any trivia as well. I really loved to read superhero and villain origin stories and information. While I know there were a few cartoons and such, I never gave much thought of an Avengers film on the big screen.

The movie started out in a somewhat confusing way, but was also pretty straightforward. I didn’t exactly recognize the main villain at first, but once introductions were underway his identity made a lot of since. Basically, the plot structure of this whole film was adding one potential catastrophe after another and seeing how the characters dealt with this “series of unfortunate events.” I guess you can say that about any action film, mind you, but then there is another element that was really interesting to see as well.

The best way to explain it is character conflict. Imagine a few super-powered or highly skilled people placed in a single place with differing viewpoints and agendas. This has been done before, and to death, of course but Whedon excelled in bringing this out and actually making it an integral part of the film. Chaos is a central force in Avengers–one which this particular villain is traditionally gifted at causing his foes–and watching it play out was just being able to look at pure, destructive genius. As you continue watching this film, you realize that in some ways, the heroes have just as much potential to be dangerous to the world in their state of disharmony as the villains that are actively and consciously trying to cause mayhem and destruction.

Of course, there is a lot of genius and epic courage in just how that chaos is–for the moment anyway–resolved. And even all of this would have just been slightly above the par of usual events that occur in an action or superhero movie if not for Whedon’s humour, witticisms and pop culture references–especially with regards to the Marvel heroes–that he is so known for in Buffy and all of his other works.

I actually really enjoyed this movie. It was a challenge. There have been many films where heroes and villains team up from different places and become generic cast-off or one-function characters. One character in this film perhaps functioned that way, but Whedon put a fair amount of psychological dialogue and character development in there to more than make up for it.

All and all, I would give this film a four out of five if not a five. Also, I had a few guesses as to whom the real power behind the chaos was and I was not disappointed: just awestruck. And I look forward to the near future when the Avengers assemble again.

Mini-Opera: The Sweeper: A Teardown Epilogue

~ matthewkirshenblatt ~ 2 Comments

Notes: Basically I visualize a grey stage with a grey man–the Soloist– and a broom. He is sweeping away a pile of bodies: some monstrous, some beautiful, or alien. I can also see him sweeping up flowers, gemstones, coins, bones, computers and various other strange things.

It’s a thankless job

though I couldn’t give less a damn about being thanked.

Some call me the Sweeper:

like it’s something special

like I do something sacred.

But I’ll tell you, now, since you are here

that every good foundation is judged by its plumbing.

Cleaning the bodies of monsters and fairies,

lost memories clogging the arteries of the brain:

the backlog of  secrets crammed up to make someone

topple over.

A dreamer is a hazard

an accident waiting to happen

if you don’t clean them out.

It’s easy to get caught up in their garbage

in their filth

and no matter much you do

how many fairy-tales you wash away

or props you take apart,

they always leave you stained:

in some way.

That’s why I can’t stand them.

I’m a glorified janitor of the unconscious

and people pay me no mind

which lets me see all of their

mysteries and secrets

all day and every night.

Yes, that’s right.

Unicorns are a hazard

try surprising one sometime.

Zombies are a mess

to get out of the cracks in the mind.

Vampires wear out their welcomes fast

and gods really don’t know when to die.

I won’t even go into the sex dreams,

but I’ve seen worse.

Whether dream or nightmare, neither smells like roses when the dreamers are done,

when they throw them away.

It’s the lucids that make it annoying:

always getting in your way,

trying to change the scenes you’re already cleaning

and they think they’ve got so much to say.

I don’t care if they can fly or how many wishes they’d like.

But the strangest thing I’d ever seen:

was from a man with a Kaiser mustache

who dreamed of a World-Tree and a ladder:

of flying women in armor and wings,

of blond-haired, blue-eyed heroes with swords and rings

all wearing Swastikas and killing dwarves with yellow stars

on faded coats.

Add the women drinking and ripping men apart

and a dark spirit chasing the white-robed Kaiser-man and you see what I mean.

You see?

He called himself Zarathustra: though I know that wasn’t his name.

He claimed he separated good and evil and then united them again.

I bet he regretted what he called when they all came.

What a mess.

He even asked me to clean it all up for him,

that it wasn’t what he dreamed for

I could have just said nothing, but instead reminded him that he didn’t want my help

that, “God is dead.”

Then I left up the ladder.

because I don’t get paid nearly enough to kill overgrown weeds, Nazi gods

and drunken cannibals.

In fact, I don’t get paid at all.

I don’t even remember how I got this tattoo–

this dragon-tattoo like from some book in a drugstore–

though I hope it was from something fun.

The truth is

I do not remember much

except for one thing.

Because I know

that for all the sweeping I do here

all the time I spend in your daydreams

and your sleep,

I never dream.

Heh.

And I … never will.