Potential spoilers, though from the box office returns, I’m wondering if anyone that would read this piece hasn’t already seen it anyway. Read on at your peril. And know that I hate, despise, and loathe this movie so badly that I deeply desire the two hours of my life it took to watch it back.

There is good news, though… you don’t have to see it to understand Engame. So we’ve got that going for us which is nice.

OK, spoilers starting.

1. Brie Larson’s character (I don’t really give a shit about the actress or her commentary) was deeply unlikable. I had 0 empathy for her character at any point in time. She was really anything… like that line from the Hunger Games where Haymitch is desperately trying to get Katniss to show something of herself in interview mode. That was this whole. damn. movie. I went into Wonder Woman with about the same level of expectation (profoundly meh and lukewarm), and got glory and heart and courage and humor… and downright goosebumps from the no man’s land sequence. Here, I just got a damp foot from the waitstaff spilling a beer on me. To be fair, that did cause some chills, I guess.
2. Steam started pouring out of my ears at the dis-ingenuity of Jude Law’s character stating that Veer’s problem was that she was too emotional and lacked control. It’s the same smugly delivered pap that has kept women from embracing themselves and their power and seeing it echoed here, even ironically, was just fucking insulting.
3. The thin veneer of 90sisms was another shallow attempt to get nostalgia engagement from Gen X chicks.. with an extra fuck you for using No Doubt’s ‘Just a Girl’ (See #2) and Nirvana’s ‘Come As You Are’.

 

And now, speed round!

1. Kree was mentioned way too early for any kind of suspense/twist to build, you knew she was workin for the bad guys
2. Shapechanging Skrulls are good guys? The fuck?
3. Tentacle faced cat took Nick Fury’s eye. Sure.
4. Tesseract as a hair ball, great, let’s fuck up that timeline a little more.

 

To be fair, there was one thing that I liked. The opening Stan Lee credits were amazing.

In this era of all style and no substance, when we’ve waited so very long for a Marvel heroine, she’s probably the one we deserved. Doesn’t mean I won’t keep hoping for a Valkyrie or Wasp standalone film.

Cause that wouldn’t suck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bree and Mr. Bear in happier times.

My pups might be a little bit spoiled. OK, more like a lot spoiled.

I had made a PetSmart run to get some puptoys for the holidays, and found this old style, super cuddly looking teddy bear.

For Bree, it was love at first sight. She took Mr. Bear everywhere with her- and if she forgot him, she couldn’t settle down and get comfy for a cuddle without her bear. Sometimes she even took this poor little bear outside with her, like he needed walkies or something. Except for a minor incident in which she defurred his butt, making him a bare bear, Bree didn’t seem to have any interest in defacing her little buddy.

Jaina, of course, was super jealous. She has this thing about stitching on toys.. she likes to rip it out. And, sure enough, one day she got ahold of Mr. Bear for just long enough to rip a hole in him.

The stuffing flew.

Mr. Bear minus some important parts… like a face and a leg.

Tomorrow, I’m going to have to throw Mr. Bear away. He’s become Mr. Rag, though Bree still carries him around faithfully and will fetch him in seconds if I ask her were Mr. Bear is. Since he was made by ToysRUs for PetSmart, I’m not too sure there’s a whole lot of them left out there.

The good news is that I know where there are at least two more, and tomorrow, after Mr. Bear the First is laid respectfully to rest, I will introduce Bree to Mr. Bear the Second.

I did say my pups are a little spoiled.

Will McAvoy said it well.

A lot of things floating around in the air around my head, sometimes through it, sometimes not. I think you know me well enough to pardon me for my ramble and see me through the other side, for I do promise that all these not so random random thoughts do come to a point of coagulation, if you will.

A Facebook memory surfaced from four years ago, and I was even then exhorting people to be kind and thoughtful of others, to be the change they wanted to see in the world.

And I have tried, so, so hard to share my own moments, to share those sparks of joy and creativity, and yes, humor when stuck with the absurd that life seems to fling our way.

Then I pulled up my feed on Monday, and really looked at what was there. Mean girl type memes on Ocasio-Cortez. Exhortations about how the right way to live was by someone else’s idol. Pleas to join in on multilevel marketing scams. A disconcertingly cult-like series on how to get right minded on racial issues. A gofundme to fix up someone’s car. A lot of mental health/girl power propaganda on how if you can’t handle her at her worst, you don’t deserve her at her best. And yeah, some cute dog pics.

What I didn’t see enough of were folks sharing simple laughs, simple pleasures, and simple kindnesses.

It made me sad and tired, and I started unfollowing people… when I got up to six, I just closed out the page and leaned back in my office chair.

Cause what strikes me to the heart is every one of those people, at some point in time, I had made a decision to connect with, because I wanted to share in their story. I found them endearing or inspiring or funny or looked up to them. And now…

We went out to dinner at our favorite place, where everyone knows us, teases us about our inevitably matching/not exactly matching cause omg we aren’t that couple Star Wars gear. And for one reason or another, we ended up waiting for over twenty minutes to be served. When we flagged a server, we had a manager at our table in seconds that would. not. let. us. speak.

It began with a flow of I’m so sorry that this has happened to you we’re taking care of everything it’s on us today and this shouldn’t have ever been a thing- to the point where i had to cut it off and ask, do you even know what you’re apologizing for?

I ended up being more pissed off at the manager’s behavior of speaking over us than I did about the original situation. (In case it comes in handy, the trick to dealing with an escalation is usually not about solving the problem- it’s about changing how the injured party feels about the problem!)

I started paying attention to groups around us- and it was all the same. The casual, dismissive rudeness, the raising of voices to drown out someone else that had something to contribute to the conversation.

And then I watched a focus group from VICE news.. same thing! We’ve forgotten or plain don’t care to watch and listen for the cues that someone is trying to speak.

What happens to us all when we no longer care about hearing one another?

So, long story short, I’ve had it.

I refuse to raise my voice to be heard. I will wait, because that is how civilized people act. And if it means that I do not speak, then I will let silence become me.

I still haven’t figured out all the negative crud- other than feeling low about how cruel we can be to one another because political ideology doesn’t happen to mesh, and we can’t accept an opposing view with respect.

And I probably am tilting at windmills- but this is a one woman mission. I do not have the right to tell others how to live. Do I hope to inspire folks- well, sure, who doesn’t? I really, so very much want to believe that these sentiments are not unique to me, that there are others looking around and recognizing the symptoms.

I’ll help you into your armor if you’ll help me into mine.

So I’m sitting here today and thinking about Clue. You know, the movie with Tim Curry with a whole bunch of different possible endings? Yeah, that one. And then I started thinking about all the pieces of my world that make me go argh.

Here’s how I could see it.

My home is geriatric and poorly insulated, filled with dog hair and dust that makes me sneeze. Repairs happen one at a time and are heinously expensively never ending.

I own a lot of sweaters.

I work long days. If it’s not my actual career, there’s chainmailing and writing and promotion of said chainmailing and writing, and it’s exhausting. It’s also not terribly profitable.

Oh, and my own mother has not read my books.

I have a pile of games with relatively little time (Or people with which) to play them.

I need to eat lunch but I don’t want to cook.

I have an ongoing case of shingles that I can’t get to go away. While I have a health care provider’s blessing to get vaccinated, I can’t get it the vaccine til I’ve been clear for 12 months. Average length of time between attacks- 3 to 4 months. Also, extra fun, one of my eyes has already been scarred due to said shingles, so there’s that.

 

Here’s another way I could see it.

I have a beautiful home built in a time when builders believed in large rooms and larger yards. We’ve been slowly upgrading bits as needs arise, and within ten years, it’ll be like we built our own place.

I have 3 beautiful pups that are my constant companions and love to snuggle.

I own a lot of sweaters.

I have multiple fulfilling jobs- artistically and professionally, I always have something to turn my hands to. The ability to create has always been vitally important to me, and I have people in my world that understand and support those efforts, even if its not an interest in their direct purview.

My mother doesn’t read my books, so she can’t tell me how I did it all wrong (and she would). The people that HAVE read them have given them great reviews, and I will forever know that I did make people laugh and cry along with me, at the right times for the right reasons.

Even this minute, instead of typing this out and musing on the vagaries of perspective and reality, I could be playing one of hundreds of games that are just waiting for me on one of the five systems within arm’s length.

And that’s just in my office!

And today, I even have the day off to enjoy all of these things.. time with my pups, outlining a new story I have in mind, working on chainmail, playing a little Kingdom Hearts 3… and if I wanted to, I could go out to lunch or have it delivered. Which is a good thing, cause half of my body is in severe pain right now, and a little rest and relaxation could help me get over my current case of shingles.

 

Like Clue- it could be all of these things are true and none of them are.

 

See the warning? Great. If your mind is made up that abortion is wrong, please turn back now. I’m not going to say anything that’s going to make you particularly happy, and I’m not going to be debating this issue with you. These are my thoughts, my ethics regarding the situation, period.

And they begin, as many of my philosophical wanderings, with asking myself which act holds greater evil. Let this sink in… I am not pro abortion. I am not running around telling everyone I see shopping in the maternity section to kill their children. I do not think abortion is a great thing to do, I think it is, for some women, a necessary thing to do.

I believe in equality for women, and have come to the conclusion that if you are anti-abortion, you are not committed to equality.

A woman without a choice becomes a reluctant mother and what should be something beautiful and joyous instead becomes a burden. Carrying that burden sets that mother up to be less successful financially and emotionally.. and horribly guilt wracked for feeling in a way that’s really understandable and human at its core.

Why don’t we love children enough to give them the blessing of being wanted? Loved? Prepared for and eagerly welcomed into the world?

If you want to tell me that life begins at conception and must be protected, then I want to remind you that it doesn’t end at birth… and by allowing life to begin with a lack of care and stability- well, you’re setting the stage for the destruction of two lives.

If you want to debate the financials and how you do not want to fund abortion, I will remind you that it is far more expensive, both financially and at a human level, to cope with the outcome of unwanted children. We have this romanticized idea that adversity breeds excellence- is it true? Or is it just a salve for our collective conscience when we see situations of families struggling to provide the bare essentials?

And no, being unwanted doesn’t make a person doomed. But think of the problems of our society today- general lack of resources, increasing levels of depression, reported feelings of isolation, hate groups radicalizing into violence… how much of that do you think stems from the very beginning, of people bringing children into the world that they weren’t prepared for and could not raise with the love, time, and care that should be every child’s birthright?

We like to think we live in the greatest country in the world. How great are we if we condone, and indeed, enforce children having to live in poverty? How can women achieve equality if there is always the chance that they will have to give up such a huge part of themselves and their lives to a child?

They can’t. And we aren’t.

 

Out in the world, it’s been a really crazy couple of weeks. I could go on for hours about the shutdown and the rest of the seriously screwed up situation in our seriously polarized, uncivil, and sometimes monstrous country.

I’m not going to do that.

Instead, I’m going to talk about Michael Beatty for a few minutes here.

Who’s he? Well, he’s an average guy, like most of us, who doesn’t always do what he knows he’s supposed to do for his health. Unlike most of us, he ended up in a coma due to that… and very luckily, he pulled through.

And came home to a mountain of medical debt and a fixed income to try and handle it with.

Like most of us, Michael follows the back and forth of conversation on social media from time to time, agreeing with what he agrees with, and sometimes savagely roasting what he doesn’t.

This week, it was a post from Patton Oswalt that he felt the need to spew some bile on, personally attacking the comedian.

I’ve followed Patton for years… while I don’t always like his work, I hold tremendous empathy for the man. What he did next brought me to tears.

Instead of firing back at Michael as a faceless online entity, he stopped and looked at the person. He put himself in Michael’s shoes. And, well…

He helped Michael pay his medical bills.

This, this, THIS is a shining example of what we keep forgetting. We aren’t Trump supporters or moms or dads or blue collar or Republicans or Democrats or antivax or pro life.

We’re people. Every single one of us has a story that shaped who we are and why we react the way we do. That’s what the folks interested in controlling us want us to forget, they want us to be labels, cause they know it’s way easier to weaponize people against a label.

It shouldn’t be so easy to weaponize us against each other. But thanks to our own need to feel like we’re ahead of someone else in the race, our desire to be better than, our fear of experiences unlike ours, we’re handing them all the tools they need to do it.

Ironic, isn’t it? In an age where communication is the fastest and most accessible it’s ever been, we let it be used to make people hate each other, because when we’re divided, we’re easier to control. We don’t have to let this be the norm… we can decide how we feel about people. We can decide that someone holding a different view from ours doesn’t make them or us wrong.

Forget the labels. Learn about the people, walk in their shoes. Choose kindness and understanding.

 

 

It’s kind of funny… I started out the year knowing that I needed to change some things up to put myself in a better place- the place I wanted to be.

I started out by choosing a new mantra for each day. Over time, I found two that truly worked for me whenever I felt things pressing down too hard.

Let go of anything that doesn’t serve you.

Anxiety is contagious, so is calm.

I still need to find a mini dragon fountain and build a zen garden for my courtyard come the spring. And maybe find a non juniper bonsai to trim. But truth is, I feel better and freer than I have in a long while. And that’s a good thing.