These Things Can Change

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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

Americans, plug in your state; it’s eye-opening. Here’s the results from my state: 

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This means teachers in Indiana had their pay cut by 15.1% in the past 15 yearsThis is worse than the nation as a whole, where teachers have had their pay cut by an average of 3 percent when we adjust for inflation.And since 2010, teachers in Indiana had their pay cut by 9.7 percent.This is worse than how teachers in West Virginia have fared since 2010. There, teachers went on strike for nine days and received a 5 percent raise as well as a hold on raising health insurance costs.

education vox strikes labor teachers

Best of 2017 - Movies

Top 10:

1. Dunkirk

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2. Your Name

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3. Coco 

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4. In This Corner of the World

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5. Logan

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6. Lady Bird

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7. Baby Driver

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8. The Shape of Water

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9. The Last Jedi

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10. Blade Runner 2049

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Honorable Mentions:
Logan Lucky
The Lost City of Z
Wonder Woman
Wind River
Menashe

Favorite Lead Performances:
Sally Hawkins, The Shape of Water
Gal Godot, Wonder Woman
Charlie Hunnam, The Lost City of Z

Favorite Supporting Performances:
Patrick Stewart, Logan
Mark Hamill, The Last Jedi
Laurie Metcalf, Lady Bird

Best Beginnings:
Valerian
Wonder Woman

Best Endings:
Coco
The Shape of Water

Best Structure:
Dunkirk
Your Name

Best Concept:
Radius
Your Name

Most Upsetting:
Radius
Detroit
In This Corner of the World (last 30 mins)

Most Pleasant:
Coco
Logan Lucky
In This Corner of the World (first 90 mins)

film movies 2017 best of science fiction superheroes

I love to read, and this year I made a concerted effort to read things that were newly published. Here are my favorites from 2017:


Top 5:

1. “Borne,” Jeff VanderMeer: I adore VanderMeer’s work, and he’s in top form in this alternatingly moody and exciting story of survival and cross-species friendship in a wasteland full of hostile biotechnology. 

2. “The Idiot,” Elif Batuman: This wry, bittersweet coming-of-age story set in 1995 made me smile with its main character’s gentle self-mockery, and put me constantly in mind of my own late adolescent fumblings. I love the main character’s meditation on email and the way it changes how she interacts with the world around her; if you’re on the fence about this one, check out the (adapted) first part of the book that the author read aloud for the New Yorker’s “Writer’s Voice” podcast (link in comments).

3. “Provenance,” Ann Leckie: This author has penned one of my favorite sci-fi series of the last decade, and set this book in the same universe. It’s a cozy mystery, in which half the fun is decoding the alien cultures that formed each of the main characters. A true delight, through and through.

4. “The Power,” Naomi Alderman: Women everywhere suddenly have the power to electrocute people. How does society change? That’s the surprising question this book answers through the eyes of a rotating cast of well-drawn characters. 

5. “Jane, Unlimited,” Kristin Cashore: I read this YA novel with my sisters for our weekly Sibling Book Club, to which it was very well suited. Jane, a young woman, is invited to a gala in a mysterious mansion on an island. Before the gala begins, she is presented with the choice to follow five different characters, each of whom is acting fishy; the rest of the book is a branching narrative that tracks Jane across multiple genres.


Next 5: 

6. “The Last Neanderthal,” Claire Cameron: This story tracks the life of the last living Neanderthal in the Stone Age, and the parallel story of the woman who uncovers her body in the present. 

7. “When the English Fall,” David Williams: An Amish man journals about keeping up his farm and helping others around him in increasingly dire circumstances after a solar storm wrecks America’s electrical grid. 

8. “How to Behave in a Crowd,” Camille Bordas: In this humorous story, a boy with a heart of gold does his best to get by in his family of five genius siblings. 

9. “The Stone Sky,” NK Jemisin: The best fantasy author currently writing offers a great wrap-up by to her trilogy about a magical, and terrible, world wracked by frequent natural disasters.

10. “The Stone Heart,” Faith Erin Hicks: This comics gem forms the second part of a series about friendship and growth in a city beset by political conflict; highly reminiscent of “Avatar: The Last Airbender” in all the best ways. 



Honorable Mentions:

“Artemis,” Andy Weir

“Home,” Nnedi Okorafor

“The Seventh Function of Language,” Laurent Binet

 “October: The Story of the Russian Revolution,” China Miéville

books reading science fiction best of 2017

“I have heard that people swear with the things they are afraid of,” says Olivier Bauer, a Swiss professor of religion who taught at the Université de Montréal and lived in the city for a decade. “So for English speaking people it’s sex, in Québec it is the church, and in France or Switzerland it is maybe more sexual or scatalogical.” Fear and power kind of tie together; swear words tend to be words that invoke something mysterious or scary or uncomfortable, and by using them we can tap into a bit of that power. (Yiddish, the swear words of which I grew up hearing, has about a dozen curses referring to the penis. I’m not sure which category that falls into.)

Québec has few swears that you’d also find in France. Merde, maybe. I’ve heard enculer before, which means something like the verb “to fuck” and is usually paired with something else to enhance it. But the best swears are the sacres.

The sacres is the group of Catholic swears unique to Québec. There are many of them; the most popular are probably tabarnak (tabernacle), osti or hostie or estie (host, the bread used during communion), câlisse (chalice), ciboire (the container that holds the host), and sacrament (sacrament). These usually have some milder forms as well, slightly modified versions that lessen their blow. “For example, tabarnouche and tabarouette are non-vulgar versions of tabarnak, similar to ‘shoot’ and ‘darn’ in English,” says [Felix] Polesello, [the proprietor of Quebec language blog OffQc].

The sacres typically are interchangeable, rarely having any particular meaning by themselves. Most often you’ll hear them used as all-purpose exclamations. If a Québecois stubs his or her toe, the resulting swears might be “tabarnak, tabarnak!” instead of “fuck fuck fuck.” They can be inserted into regular sentences the way English swears can to vulgarly emphasize your statement. “For example, un cave means ‘an idiot,’ but un estie de cave means ‘a fucking idiot,’” says Polesello.

Because the words are largely just meaningless statements of rage, there is an interesting ability in Québec French to create fantastic new strings of profanity that are, basically, untranslatable. Essentially you can just list sacres, connecting them with de, forever. Crisse de câlisse de sacrament de tabarnak d’osti de ciboire!, you might say after the Canadiens fail to make the NHL playoffs. The closest English translation would be something like “Fucking fuck shit motherfucker cockface asshole!” Or thereabouts. But strings of profanity like that in American English, though not unheard of, are certainly not common. In Québec, letting loose with a string of angrily shouted Catholic terminology is something you’re fairly likely to hear at some point.

language French language quebec canada atlas obscura religion Christianity catholicism
transfigurationblues

Scattered thoughts on “The Shape of Water”:

transfigurationblues

1. I saw a trailer for this film before “Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri,” and it revealed, no kidding, *every* key plot point in the movie. I knew or could easily guess what would happen at any key moment. And you know what? I still had a great time. While suspense can be important and fun, any good film will be enjoyable because of *how* things happen, not just because of *what* happens.

2. I love director Guillermo del Toro for his lush, carefully designed visuals, and this film does not disappoint! The 60s are evoked sensuously throughout the film, in dark apartments populated by wood-framed televisions; greenish, fluorescent-lit, linoleumed science labs; a classic diner with a smooth-talking counter boy; and a creaky theater with too much red velvet and not enough paying customers. The unnamed amphibian man is also beautifully crafted, of course, evoking wildness and menace, timidity and vivacity and humanity all balanced against one another. (I looked it up, just to be sure, and the effects on him are practical—it’s not a motion capture performance.) 

3. Doug Jones (no, not that Doug Jones), the man in that carefully crafted monster makeup, really is the best. His physical presence is electric; he’s at once believably alien and authentically personal. I wish he got to do more mainstream film stuff; I’ve really only seen him in his collaborations with del Toro (he was Abe Sapien in the Hellboy movies and the Faun/Pale Man in “Pan’s Labyrinth”). Apparently he’s on Star Trek: Discovery, which, uh, yeah, I would love to be able to watch that sometime! 

4. The main character is Eliza Esposito, played by Sally Hawkins, who cannot speak due to an injury to her vocal cords, and instead speaks American Sign Language. Though not a native signer, Hawkins does a fine job with ASL and delivers a terrific performance overall—engaging and lovable throughout. That makes this the second movie I’ve loved this year with a central ASL performance, the first being “Baby Driver”. 

5. The movie presents Eliza as a whole person. She’s aware that other people mostly don’t see her that way—many characters ignore or even degrade her, while one fetishizes her silence—but is shown from the very start to be fulfilled and happy, with friends and a good life. I think it would be easy to present Eliza, a person with a rare but still challenging disability, as fundamentally alone and broken and in need of a fishman (or, you know, whoever) to rescue her and fix her, and I think the film avoids falling into that trap, presenting us instead with two characters who come to care for and even need each other. 

6. I made the mistake of reading a review right before I wrote my own, something I try never to do (unless I’m on the fence about a film and need to be talked into/out of it), and the reviewer criticized the film for being too comfortable, a message movie about widely accepted liberal values (most notably, tolerance). Some time ago, I read a review of the movie “In the Heat of the Night,” maybe the quintessential liberal message movie (it’s about how racism…is bad!), which pointed out that such movies are generally condescending and annoying; the only thing that can redeem a liberal message movie is for it to be *really good*. (“In the Heat of the Night” is really good.) While “The Shape of Water” is unusually dark, sexual, and violent (though, note, not sexually violent) for a liberal message movie, I think you can still call it one. But the thing is, it’s redeemed by being really good: the performances are thrilling, not just Hawkins and Jones, but everyone, from Michael Shannon’s scenery-chewing villain, to Richard Jenkins’ humble put-upon roommate, to Michael Stuhlbarg’s empathetic scientist, and Octavia Spencer’s plucky and loyal friend and coworker. The plot is predictable but winning, well-paced and exciting throughout, with few if any missed opportunities or loose threads. Add del Toro’s exquisite visual sense from scattered thought #2, and you get a movie that is beautiful and good. If some frank sexuality and occasional but visceral violence won’t bother you…see it! It’s out in some US cities now, and will be in wide release this weekend. 

Scattered thoughts on “The Shape of Water”:

1. I saw a trailer for this film before “Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri,” and it revealed, no kidding, *every* key plot point in the movie. I knew or could easily guess what would happen at any key moment. And you know what? I still had a great time. While suspense can be important and fun, any good film will be enjoyable because of *how* things happen, not just because of *what* happens.

2. I love director Guillermo del Toro for his lush, carefully designed visuals, and this film does not disappoint! The 60s are evoked sensuously throughout the film, in dark apartments populated by wood-framed televisions; greenish, fluorescent-lit, linoleumed science labs; a classic diner with a smooth-talking counter boy; and a creaky theater with too much red velvet and not enough paying customers. The unnamed amphibian man is also beautifully crafted, of course, evoking wildness and menace, timidity and vivacity and humanity all balanced against one another. (I looked it up, just to be sure, and the effects on him are practical—it’s not a motion capture performance.) 

3. Doug Jones (no, not that Doug Jones), the man in that carefully crafted monster makeup, really is the best. His physical presence is electric; he’s at once believably alien and authentically personal. I wish he got to do more mainstream film stuff; I’ve really only seen him in his collaborations with del Toro (he was Abe Sapien in the Hellboy movies and the Faun/Pale Man in “Pan’s Labyrinth”). Apparently he’s on Star Trek: Discovery, which, uh, yeah, I would love to be able to watch that sometime! 

4. The main character is Eliza Esposito, played by Sally Hawkins, who cannot speak due to an injury to her vocal cords, and instead speaks American Sign Language. Though not a native signer, Hawkins does a fine job with ASL and delivers a terrific performance overall—engaging and lovable throughout. That makes this the second movie I’ve loved this year with a central ASL performance, the first being “Baby Driver”. 

5. The movie presents Eliza as a whole person. She’s aware that other people mostly don’t see her that way—many characters ignore or even degrade her, while one fetishizes her silence—but is shown from the very start to be fulfilled and happy, with friends and a good life. I think it would be easy to present Eliza, a person with a rare but still challenging disability, as fundamentally alone and broken and in need of a fishman (or, you know, whoever) to rescue her and fix her, and I think the film avoids falling into that trap, presenting us instead with two characters who come to care for and even need each other. 

6. I made the mistake of reading a review right before I wrote my own, something I try never to do (unless I’m on the fence about a film and need to be talked into/out of it), and the reviewer criticized the film for being too comfortable, a message movie about widely accepted liberal values (most notably, tolerance). Some time ago, I read a review of the movie “In the Heat of the Night,” maybe the quintessential liberal message movie (it’s about how racism…is bad!), which pointed out that such movies are generally condescending and annoying; the only thing that can redeem a liberal message movie is for it to be *really good*. (“In the Heat of the Night” is really good.) While “The Shape of Water” is unusually dark, sexual, and violent (though, note, not sexually violent) for a liberal message movie, I think you can still call it one. But the thing is, it’s redeemed by being really good: the performances are thrilling, not just Hawkins and Jones, but everyone, from Michael Shannon’s scenery-chewing villain, to Richard Jenkins’ humble put-upon roommate, to Michael Stuhlbarg’s empathetic scientist, and Octavia Spencer’s plucky and loyal friend and coworker. The plot is predictable but winning, well-paced and exciting throughout, with few if any missed opportunities or loose threads. Add del Toro’s exquisite visual sense from scattered thought #2, and you get a movie that is beautiful and good. If some frank sexuality and occasional but visceral violence won’t bother you…see it! It’s out in some US cities now, and will be in wide release this weekend. 

film reviews scattered thoughts guillermo del toro movies american sign language asl language