Effy

Pathos: "There was a girl who could only live on lemonade. Or her parents were really old and rubbish and just kept giving it to her to the point where she couldn’t have anything else. Or they were really nice and only gave it to her because they really liked her. I can’t decide that bit but she could only live on lemonade. If she didn’t have lemonade, she’d die. And her parents were going to die soon too because they had something wrong with them that their blood was blue or something like that. And she had a brother but he was really stupid, though, no one really cared about him. They just wanted their little girl to live. The only trouble is, no one thought about her brother. She was in a bottle, he was on his own, no one thought about him. They just left him. So he sat by her, her brother, he sat by her in the bottle and ‘cause lemonade helped her eyesight, she could see him really clearly through the sides, even though the grass was as a thick as his skull. And cause it was the countryside, there was nothing for him to eat, nothing for him to buy and he was starving. And she could see that and there was no one looking after him, cause he was a bit stupid, couldn’t really look after himself, and it kept on raining so he was getting a bit rusty. She was having an amazing time with the lemonade but she knew she had to help him, so she swam to the surface but she couldn’t get out, it was too far away, this bottle was too big. She knew she had to do something, he was getting worse and worse and worse and he was really hungry and thirsty and he started eating glass and puking up all the time. So she tried to think of some plan for him but she couldn’t. All she knew is that he needed her with him. All she could do was watch him puke his guts up on the other side of the glass. But then bingo, she knew. She started to drink and she drank and she drank and she drank. And this was a lot of lemonade, enough to last her till she died, cause her parents wanted her to live for ages but she drank, every last drop, until she was in an empty bottle but that was no good, she still couldn’t get out. But that was okay, because she just waited until she had a big one stored up. Because she drank all the pop, she drank all the lemonade. And then she started to fart. It was slow at first but then it was really loud and hard. She blew her way out of the bottle, straight from the top, like a rocket. Then she stopped her brother eating grass and they went and found a nice little house to live in together, her and her brother. And it turned out drinking all that lemonade had cured her because she never wanted it again. She had orange for the rest of her life."

Room

Inside the window of plasticity: They say language development in humans began with women. They were responsible for transmitting the narrative of culture to their offspring, both its’ wonders and its’ dangers, so they could navigate safely. This dynamic was clearly evident between Ma (Brie) and Jack (Jacob). First there was the story of ‘room’ – its’ blessings and dangers (sink, rats, and ol’ Nick). At five Ma considered Jack old enough to learn the real narrative of the world outside – replacing the fairy tale version she told him before – and hoping he could navigate his way to safety (wiggle, roll, jump, run and call for help). He succeeded even though he was dazed by space, distance and people he’d never seen in 3D before. This was the beginning of transition from a life of confinement in a 10X10 room (since birth) – to the strange expanse of the world at large for Jack. At first he had no depth perception. Distance and peripheral vision faded to blur way too quickly. Voices other than his mothers’ sounded off-beat and arhythmical. The rules of social interaction were foreign. He could only communicate through his mother. But he was well inside the window of plasticity. His mother didn’t immediately rush out to embrace the world. After seven years of stoic existence – the trauma of captivity finally caught up with her. She didn’t get a makeover and party with her girlfriends like she was 17. And Jacob didn’t immediately embrace his grandparents or join a t-ball team. He did make friends one at a time and came to recognize his grandmother as another ‘ma’. I think these are the realities of re-entry that the movie captures so well.

Ex Machina

 

Ex Machina (2015): Watching Ex Machina, I noticed how much Ava felt like a real person to me –sexy, sad and lonely –even though I knew she was a robot. Caleb felt this way too. He was seduced and conned by Ava into believing they were in a ‘relationship’. He devised a plan that would allow them to escape together –even though he knew just as well as I did that ‘she’ was not human. (I was even kinda’ hoping for a romantic ending (!?)) I believe the film shows how willing we are to enter into a para-social relationship with entities we know are simulations. Something like this has been shown to occur with characters in a book or a movie (Barnes 2015). Makes me wonder how we’ll treat characters we encounter in a virtual reality.

Blue is the warmest color

Blue is the warmest color (2013): A revealing look at sexual identity in a coming-of-age story that follows the arc of two young lovers. Adèle is a 17-year-old high-school student whose classmates gossip constantly about boys. She dates a boy for a while but is ultimately dissatisfied and breaks it off ..thinking there’s something wrong with her. She begins feeling attracted to other girls, which puts her at odds with her classmates. She approaches a girl at school, which doesn’t go anywhere, then a woman at a lesbian bar .. which does. The woman is Emma, a graduating art student. In the years that follow, the two women live with each other as lovers. Adèle finishes school and joins the teaching staff at a local elementary school, while Emma tries to move forward with her painting career. Adèle feels ill at ease among Emma’s intellectual friends; and Emma belittles her teaching career, encouraging her to find fulfillment in writing, Adèle enjoys playing the stereo-typically feminine role in their relationship but Emma becomes physically and emotionally distant. They gradually begin to realize how little they have in common.

Break up   Cafe

teenagers

Para Social Therapy

Whether I’m watching Jessica Jones or reading a Cass Neary novel I feel like I’ve taken something to temporarily ease my social anxiety. I can identify with the characters without interference from my own history of social failings. They’re not going to pass judgment on me so I end up liking them about as much as I would someone I just met. Perhaps because it’s a clean slate. I become interested in following their progress ...I feel sad when they’re hurt ...happy for their accomplishments…even shed a tear when they’re gone. Jennifer says I’ve entered a 'para-social relationship' with them. Kinda' sounds like the twilight zone. She compares it to a simulator. Even though you know they’re not real …they trigger the same feelings as someone who is. She says it’s another way the mind learns to navigate the social world without harm or fear of failure. Makes me think of the placebo effect. I know that placebos work by activating a healing narrative in the mind even when the patient knows they’re not real. And they're relatively harmless. So, perhaps there’s medicinal value in literary fiction, film and popular television shows. A way to mentally travel to distant places …populated by different people …and arrive home safely.

Genevieve

"One of my favorite things is experiencing the origins of my friends through their eyes. Another is sharing my own with my dearest and deepest too. This sharing is a favorite memory. Paul Ricoeur writes that, “Memory is no longer the narrative of external adventures stretching along episodic time. It is itself the spiral movement that, through anecdotes and episodes, brings us back to the almost motionless constellation of potentialities that the narrative retrieves. The end of the story is what equates the present with the past, the actual with the potential.”  - Genevieve

Jessica Jones

You see, the trouble starts here

Cap'm America

Monica Rambeau was a police lieutenant from New Orleans where her cool demeanor and swift reflexes earned her the role of ‘chief hostage negotiator’. One day a negotiation turned into a bloody firefight at a munitions warehouse. The incident changed her trajectory. She's no longer seen in New Orleans. Some sightings place her in the mixed martial arts ring where they call her El Tiger. She can transform into a feral beast and attack her opponents with the stealth and power of a puma. Others say she has become one of the deadliest forces on the planet …a solitary predator with supernatural powers. There have been sightings across a wide range of the Americas covering more ground than any other mammal we know. Legend has it she can stalk her prey from miles away …then strike suddenly, without a sound …ripping their heart out and gnawing on it while it’s still beating …sending them into a world of torment that lasts an eternity in one of the outlier regions of the nether worlds where she has dual-parallel residency. It’s a unique status that allows her to coexist in several dimensions at once. Go figure. Sounds like the firefight in New Orleans spawned multiple versions of the original Monica …each traveling a different trajectory across the universe ..or multiverse as some like to call it.

Blondie

Blondie is one of the biggest ‘what ever became of her’ mysteries of my life. I was a first-year teaching assistant in grad school …experiencing insecurities I hadn’t felt in a long time. She came into the computer lab looking for tutoring help with statistics. She was my first. I was apprehensive about the material but it all came rushing back …only I was trying to explain it at the speed of thought. She looked at me …smiled and told me to take a deep breath …I’m going way to fast. I took this as helpful advice and took that breath, which made us both laugh. I dialed it back and broke it down into steps that she could follow. Days later I got a visit from a professor who thanked me …told me that Blondie had aced a big test …and that she’d credited me for it. Turned out to be one of the first steps in helping me get over my insecurities. Next time I saw her …she and her friend were racing excitedly through the stacks of research articles in the library. She was clearly someone who was into what she was doing …or perhaps, who she was doing it with. I smiled but didn’t want to get in the way of progress. I saw her again the following term ...only this time it was at a conference we were hosting on campus.  She was attending  a small panel discussion lead by a well-known expert from Columbia. She was dressed in a beautiful pearly white top, navy blue skirt and Evan Picone pumps. Stunning (I’d only ever seen her dressed in blue jeans and a tee). She was sitting by herself. My first impression was ...she’s seriously considering graduate school. Afterwards, I left to attend a small dinner party that we were holding for the panel leader. It wasn’t until later it occurred to me that, when I was where she is now, how helpful it would have been for someone to have noticed me at an event like this and invited me to a dinner with a big shot. If nothing else it would have given her a boost ...kind of like the one she’d given me a year earlier.

Danaë

It doesn't take much to turn someone into a zombie ...the right predisposition will do. A powerful enough disposition and you don’t even have to enter the bloodstream … contact with airborne pheromones is all it takes. At least that was the case with Danaë. Except for changes in hair and skin color… not even her parents could tell the difference. She was the same sociopath as before. Danaë says it doesn’t make much difference to her either ...as long as she has a reliable supply of gray matter. “It’s not nourishment I crave. I don’t need three meals a day the way you do. What I need is a healthy dose of somebodies life force. Helps me stay closer to the living end of the undead scale.” Fortunately she works as an assistant mortician. A fresh supply of brains arrive daily. She won’t deteriorate … won’t have to resort to pack behavior or join the hunt for brains on the street. “Some of the people working in the coroners office are zombies.” she says. “We’re even doctors and lawyers. It has it’s drawbacks of course. For one, you have to learn to deal with the personality swings that occur from brain to brain. Kinda’ like having an Identity Disorder. I guess it’s no wonder my friends and family haven't notice.”

After graduation

Los Angeles, CA: You know like when my dad comes to visit … how he always drives a rental car? I've been thinking ...that might be the ticket outta’ here. While he's busy helping my brother with his pitching or something, I'll offer to pick up tacos for dinner. I’ll get the keys …throw my bags in the trunk and head up 101 to Eureka. Stewart says he can get me a job working the Klamath. When I get there I’ll drop the car off near an airport then call the agency and tell them where they can pick it up. My dad can always rent another one. Minor inconvenience. I mean … it’s a small price to pay for his daughter’s happiness, right? You in …?

Big mistake

Troian Bellasario committed the unthinkable when she crossed into Orphan Black and stole Helena’s boyfriend: Jesse the tow truck driver. Whatever crimes she committed in Pennsylvania or Jamaica pale in comparison to this act of betrayal. There is no refuge on the mainline. Helena is a force of nature that knows no boundaries. So it came as no surprise when Troian’s body was found gutted and hanging from the bell tower in Rosewood PA. How did she not see that coming? Another tragic example of how failing to heed the warnings of Orphan Black may be hazardous to your health. May she rest in peace.

Chelsea

Chelsea is a high-end escort who can provide a ‘girlfriend experience' with such warmth and conviction that you almost forget the cold calculating environment you're in … where intimacy is just another transaction. It’s eerie. Outside of work she reverts to being unsociable ...relating to people in an almost robotic manner.  She prefers to be alone. She is into sex big-time … just not on the job. Remote, online interactions are what she craves. Every night after work she peruses video chat sites anonymously where she gets off watching strangers get off watching her get off. Sort of like an escalating feedback loop. She recently invested a small fortune in high-speed online video equipment with mounted camcorders and two enormous screens suspended over her bed.

Background: Growing up beautiful meant she got a lot of attention … not all of it welcome. She couldn’t tell whether people were into her for her personality or her looks. Physical attraction was often short-lived and painful. Now she avoids commitment and shuns attention. Her sexuality has become more like a means of exchange that she  uses to get what she wants.

Triple Dog Dare

Didn't think she'd actually do it. Did you …? OK, do you see anything...? How long before we should do something ...? And what ...? A dare isn’t a thing ...is it? I mean, it's not like we dragged her ass out here and threw her over. Maybe if we drop a bunch of bright float-y things we can watch  where they go ...see where they wash up.  I say we call 911. I say we get the fuck outta’ here before I pee in my pants.  I think I just did.

Miranda

Ferdinand and Miranda meet in one of the many canyons.  He's shipwrecked and wandering aimlessly. “Welcome to the island of Tabula Rasa!" Miranda anounces. "If it's civilization you're looking for, well ... I'm afraid you won't find it.  Just  Prospera and myself.  But she is very wise.  A sorcerer you know. She says: ‘human beings are very adaptable’. It's kinda' her mantra. You’ll see. Follow me. We can go to the lagoon. The water is very healing.  The mist is rising. Do you like Mangoes? We gather them ourselves. Come with me ...you’ll see." A mynah bird lands on Miranda’s shoulder ..repeating the words: “Pay attention ... Pay attention.” Prospera taught all the birds to say that … a reminder to be present.

Aftermath

 

it clings inside / won't wash away / beyond the reach / 

of the light of day / semen-filled eyes / milky vision /

there's no pills for what I'm feeling.

Bungalow girl

I met David at the club after spending half the night with guys who did nothing but talk about themselves or try to impress me with all the money they make. I was feeling nearly spent and hostile and it must've showed. But we got into a soothing conversation sharing horror stories about what it's like looking for anyone authentic in places like this. After 45 minutes I was feeling kinda’ into him. But it sounded like he had an attitude about L.A. women and wasn't into me. So when he offered me his number I got kinda' spooked.  I've never cold-called somebody I met at a bar before. Thinking out loud I must've blurted out something like: “I’m not sure I'll call you …but, I can give you my number.” He got up, said that’s OK and walked away pissed. I sat there with my head resting on the bar imagining how presumptuous that must’ve sounded: “Hey, here’s my number cuz I'm sure you wanna' call me a lot more than I wanna' call you."  OK,  I'm an idiot. I started slamming down a bunch more mojitos ...the bartender eventually called a cab.and when it arrived a bouncer kindly escorted me curbside. I ran into David the other night at another local bar and he said: “Hey, last time I saw you, you were passed-out and security had to haul your ass away." He went on to tell me that it served me right for being such a bitch and sucking all the life out of him. No, wait …what he actually said was: “it serves you right for being such a bitch and bringing other people down like you do.” He asked if it makes me feel better about myself and told me how I must get off absorbing other people's confidence or something. I’m still trying to Google what video game that comes from.    

Ask me anything

Ask me anything (19 December 2014) A most intriguing story. Not exactly the romantic comedy I thought. Although the narration is pretty funny. It follows Katie’s online journal over the course of a year that she takes off between high school and college. It reveals a year of living dangerously: alcohol-fueled promiscuity and high stakes pursuit of older men. It also reveals a sordid childhood trauma that may be fueling it. When Katie behavior gets dangerously close to home-wrecking territory – she mysteriously disappears. Her mother turns to the blog asking for information. She hires an investigator, but that leads nowhere. At first I suspected foul play. But looking back – events don't necessarily add up to foul play. I found reason to believe Katie’s story may not end so tragically. In a scene where she consults with Glenn (the wise old bookstore owner) she's discovers that, at 18 ...she’s still afraid of making decisions on her own – independent of what others might think. Perhaps Katie decided to sign off the blog in dramatic fashion … breaking her dependence on what her followers thought of her. It's like a story within a story where you have to step out of one to get  perspective on the other. I don't know ...it's open to interpretation and Katie's fate is in your hands.

Astrid

"It’s like, from the moment I could understand, I was taught to be afraid. ‘Don’t go out this door …you don't know what's out there’. Like I’ll meet a psychopath or disappear into an abyss or something. Now my partner of five years is giving me the boot and it feels like that door is the only one I can leave by.”

Viena

There are no delusions ...nothing separating Viena from the world-at-large. She presents a near-perfect adaptation to the psycho-social niche she occupies … ‘roadie for a punk rock band’. It’s populated by depraved junkies, fugitive outlaws, pure agave juice and several species of predatory reptiles.

Juno

"I got to the crosswalk and pounded the button until the light changed. My cell phone was buzzing but when I reached for it ...it wasn't there. I patted myself down but couldn’t feel it anywhere. I looked around and saw it laying on the ground. I picked it up, puzzled  ...shrugged ...answered and the song Modern Love by Bowie comes pouring out. I put on earbuds and  smile. I bow in gratitude to the deities of sound."

Zoé

"Anxiety is deceptive. First it focuses attention, and then it clamps the brain into rigidity by obsessively replaying the most terrifying possibilities."    (link)

 Zoé suffers panic attacks. Faced with ordinary situations she freezes-up until she's released to run to the bathroom and hurl. She never knows the right thing to say. Her mother wishes she could be more like her older sister Colleen …a stellar presence in the family. Zoé describes it as: “Torture ...I’ve been miscast as an understudy to ‘Saint Colleen’. I can’t live up to that. I’m the sicko who pukes in the bathroom.” It sounds kind'a like performance anxiety to me. She says: "Whatever ...it sucks all the air outta' me and I can't breathe." She spends most of her waking hours working on an exit strategy. She dreams of  hitting the road in a Ferrari with the top down and disappearing in a rush of air.

Cyndl

Cyndl is a film-fanatic. She has more cinema-graphic experience than anyone I know. “I’ve seen some really obscure shit” she likes to say. So when Catherine and Stewart came to visit and started asking for suggestions, she didn’t expect them to like all, or even some of the films she suggested. But she didn't expect  them to find every single one objectionable. According to Cyndl  they were like:

"Birdman …a waste of 90 minutes. Orphan Black …sheer fantasy. Films by Millennials … teeny-bopper bullshit. And there was no way Stew was going to watch a ‘chick-flick’ (when I mentioned something by Sofia Coppola).  So I gave up. This morning it occurred to me …it wasn’t about the films. What I saw was something going on between them, I mean, it’s clear Stew was prepared to find fault with anything I said. Makes me think he was going through me - to prove to her - that there really wasn't anything worth watching out there. So they might as well be watching football, which is really what he'd rather be doing in the first place, which is an issue with Catherine - she hates football. It's why they were looking for something else they could watch. A compromise. Only it wasn't his intention to actually find anything. He made damn sure of that. It was subterfuge.”

Transported

Juno was hyper-musical from birth. Songs activate a larger portion of her brain than most. While attending a ‘Widespread Panic’ concert, she was rushed to Johns Hopkins suffering what they call an ‘aural seizure’. She was highly animated and having perfectly lucid conversations with people who weren’t there. Her brain waves were moving to the beat of a rhythm previously unseen. It was an experience she describes as: “Rapture. Like a hole had been punched through the night and a phosphorescent glow was pouring through. Everyone was immersed …connected …transported.”