From Poopypants to Mormon Bloggers to a Really Great Southern Novel to Kermit

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017) Captain Underpants and the Big, Bad Battle of the Bionic Booger Boy, Part 2: The Revenge of the Ridiculous Robo-Boogers by Dav Pilkey, finished February 22

Dav Pilkey, let's just say, is extremely good at what he does. God bless him.

three days



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016) Who Was Jim Henson? by Joan Holub, finished February 18

I read this MBtFH method, but I can assure you it's an excellent overview of Henson's life and career---perfect for kids, with interesting little sides on Disney and whatnot (the one on the Women's Movement was a bit odd though). Even speedreading, the part where he dies brought back that sense of loss. He should still be with us today. He should still be with us today.

at the store



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015) The Reluctant Blogger by Ryan Rapier, finished February 15

Posts up now! on AML! AMV! MMM!

Anyone want my copy of the book? It was given to me by the author and it's now heavily marked up but I'm happy to share.

coupla months i suppose



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014) The Maid's Version by Daniel Woodrell, finished February 14

I've never read Woodrell before, but I did like the movie made of a previous work. This novel too is set in a South so real it feels almost foreign while thoroughly American. It has a couple throughlines, but many of the stories are just a couple pages long---just long enough to make you fond of its characters---before killing them in the dancehall explosion.

The novel is short, but it took me most of the pages to find my footing. But no question it's an excellent work of art, and I secretly lust to teach it.

And then there's the language. Here are a couple passages from pages 126-127 and 128:

"Dad, Bill and Speed aren't the ones who steal our milk---don't you ever even once in a while wonder about Grandpa Buster?"

"No."

"Never?"

"Your grandpa Buster was a bum."

"Just because you're a bum doesn't mean you're bad."

"You're right, son. It doesn't. I stand corrected. It absolutely does mean you're a bum, though." He tossed a few dollars on the bar and scooped his cigarettes, left the change. Rita said, Come back soon, John Paul, and he winked like he might and led me to the door and out. He squinted in the sunlight, yawned, stretched, yawned. "I've got two goddam tests coming this week---Modern Business Theory and Shakespeare, and Shakespeare's the one I'm worried about."

"We haven't got to him yet."

"That flowery fart has things to say, but he sure doesn't make it easy to get what he means." We walked along the old warped street toward our wheels and paused to stare at the river when we were between buildings and could see the water and all the way across to the next thicket. "But when you do it it, it was worth the trouble." Dad slid into the Mercury wagon on his side and me on mine. It started right up at the turn of the key, which was an only occasional result, and we pulled into traffic to drive six blocks up Derby Street to home. At the first stop sign Dad paused with his foot on the brakes and stared ahead in reverie down the uneven bricks of Main. "I think I like Speed."

* * * * *

Trains have haunted the nights in West Table since 1883 and disrupt sleep and taunt those awakened. The trains beating past toward the fabled beyond, the sound of each wheel-thump singing, You're going nowhere, you're going nowhere, and these wheels are, they are, they are going far from where you lie listening in your smallness and will still lie small at dawn after they are gone from hearing, tolling on singing along twin rails over the next hill and down and up over the next onward to those milk-and-honey environs where motion pictures happen fore real and history is made and large dashing lives you won't lead or even witness are lived.

Obviously, those two beautiful bits could not be more different.

Yet both prove the trains wrong: these little, lost, unheralded lives are the ones worth witnessing.

a coupla weeks





Previously in 2014 . . . . :

Books by people who make books

.

013) The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, finished February 12

My students have been requesting a John Green parody from me for years.

This is not a John Green parody.

Props to John Green though, pulling a Stephen King and turning an ultraboring name into a major brand.

i dunno three weeks maybe more maybe less



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012) Jedi Academy by Jeffrey Brown, finished February 5

I'm so happy for Jeffrey Brown. He deserves to get the attention these Star Wars books are bringing. I hope parents are checking out his other work.

Incidentally, this volume is charming, but the other ones are hilariouser.

about a week



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011) The Other Typist by Suzanne Rindell, finished January 27

I wish I could have read this book for the second time first. Like, say, Turn of the Screw, I imagine the real pleasure of this book will be in analyzing the quality of the pov's narration from the vantage point of knowing how it all turns out. But it's way too long to just read over and over again, and I'm not sure it's good enough to justify the effort. (Though, srsly, props to the author for cranking this out while simultaneouly working on her dissertation.)

We're in the 1920s. It's a Prohibition tale starring two typists at a New York police precinct, one of whom runs a speakeasy. It seems to be about the casual sociopathy bred into the very rich, but that (and other seeming "points") are undermined by the "twist" at the end. Scarequotes because, cmon, it's hardly a surprise and indeed I doubt Rindell intended it to be. The problem isn't the confusion, but that the last chapter goes beyond asking how unreliable our narrator is to undermining the novel entire. Fortunately, the poorly designated "Epilogue" does a good job of redeeming the bulk of the text from the occasional but frequent missteps in the previous chapter. Then there's another attempt to twist in the final two paragraphs.

In other words, we have a pretty darn good debut novel that worries it hasn't been trying hard enough and slips all over the ice at the close.

So if you like the sound of women during Prohibition written in a vintage voice and just the right amount of description of clothes and dancing and a weekend at Gatsby-lite's place on the sound, you're going to love this book. If not, just remember the author's name for next time.

over a week



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010) The Complete Peanuts 1987-1988 by Charles M. Schulz, finished January 25

I think 1987 must be the funniest year yet. And 1988 was none to shabby either. The assault-weapons gag was certainly fresh and topical.

I also liked Garry Trudeau's humble introduction. It's certainly one of the better ones.

Upsettingly, I'm pretty sure the next volume is the one I wanted to write the intro for. Alas, I did not become famous quickly enough.

just under a month








Previously in 2014 . . . . :

Oscar-nominated Live-action Shortsas seen in theaters

.

Helium

The actor playing the dying kid is a pretty good actor, but besides getting sweaty, he always looks ruddy and healthy. Makeup could have tried harder. The actor playing the janitor who befriends him is also good. The effects creating the afterlife they imagine together are pretty decent. But in the end, this movie doesn't really say anything we haven't heard before.

The Voorman Problem

Martin Freeman has become one of my favorite people to see on the screen, but that's not the primary reason I wish this had been longer. I wish it were longer, because the "twist" was not worthy to end a movie---it's the start of a movie! The earlier surprise was bigger, more startling, more impacting, more weird (in the classic sense). The second surprise is petty in comparison. More should have done with this concept. (Although: cool website.)

Avant que de tout perdre

Just Before Losing Everything

This one sped up my pulse as the abused family escapes father. But I can't tell French vans apart, so I'm not sure how to interpret that final shot. That opening shot though? A thing of beauty. Any frame from that shot could hang in a museum.

Aquel no era yo

That Wasn't Me

Watching this is a shortcut that I think can make anyone (at least, anyone who's been a boy) understand how someone becomes a child soldier. Not quite as horrifying as City of God, but close. I don't understand the controlling conceit though, of the story being told my a former soldier. Were the filmmakers concerned that if we didn't see other people's eyes tearing up, we wouldn't recognize the horror? I didn't feel manipulated by the conceit, but I'm not convinced it added anything. And the possible interpretation of White Woman Saves Black Man could send some viewers down a road the filmmakers probably didn't intend. Still. Affective. This is the one I'm most likely to remember.

Pitääkö mun kaikki hoitaa?

Do I Have to Take Care of Everything?

This is like a seven-minute sitcom---like one storyline in an episode of Modern Family---but I think I like this Finnish version better. Although some of the moments are sitcom-heightened, the family looks like normal people and the slapstick has more verisimilitude and if that ends up meaning less laughs, at least the laughs are also more honest and real.

animated nominees

Oscar-nominated Animated Shortsas seen in theaters

.

Nominated animated shorts:

Get a Horse!

I appreciate the technical whatsit and the use of vintage voices (when did Disney himself last star in a Mickey cartoon?) but I didn't like the 3D modeling and I just don't find the short as entertaining as everyone else does. Which makes me sad. But hey---all's not over for Mickey---those new tv/online shorts have been pretty great.

Mr. Hublot

The world-design is cool. The character's OCD is up there with The Aviator among the best ever committed to film. But it's all put to use in one more predictable dog story. Pity.

Feral

This was, visually, my favorite of the films. I would use this in my classes. I enjoyed the ambiguity of its unanswered questions, but I suspect the filmmakers asked more questions than necessary to hide the fact that they weren't sure which of the questions they were asking were the important questions.

Possessions

Did not care for the visual animation here. The story was okay, but it's hard to imagine this was one of the best shorts of the year.

Room on the Broom

But if THIS was one of the year's best shorts, oh boy. Let's just assume it's not, shall we? Boring. I fell asleep for a minute or two. Lady Steed tells me I missed the emotional climax of the story, but no way would I watch it again to catch that moment. I suspect this is the Academy nominating who's been nommed before and who included famous voices. Would YOU put it past them?


Not-nominated but still highly-commended animated shorts

A La Francaise

Crazily, I just watched this. It's lovely to look at and okay as a film. You can decide for yourself.

The Missing Scarf

Probably my favorite. Certainly the short I would most likely incorporate into my teaching. I love how it starts out so sweet and spirals into existential horror. Plus, visually? This one's just an all-around winner. Best of show.

The Blue Umbrella

I like the animation of everything except the umbrellas. I like the music. The umbrellas are cute, but they don't match the world and, frankly, I've seen them before in bubblewrap. And the love story? It's like the opening sequence of 101 Dalmatians without making much sense. Nice to watch once; nothing to return to.



Additional thoughts

Perhaps I am a snob, but certainly I am a connoisseur (we miss you, The Animation Show!) and I have to say this batch of films was disappointing. And those who know about What's Happening Now in Animation agree with me.

This is an exciting time for animation. The Oscar nominations should reflect this. These were fine films but, generally, they were not exciting.

Sigh.

live-action nominees

From existential dread to buckets of blood: poetry

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Well, it's happened again. Therious Literary Artist has gone and published some genre poetry. You might almost think he doesn't care about his therious reputati"on."

This time I got on the cover, though. Or Eric W Jepson did. Whoever he is.

---------------th-



Poems:

Rifflection on the Climax of “The Monkey’s Paw”
In Memoriam: B
The Young Amateur Imagines the Editor’s Pen, ca 1997

Have a Very Byucky Valentine's Day

.

Look what I found on the Internet yesterday!

[NOTE: the applicability of these to valentine's day may vary]

Recent publications

.

I am surprisingly terrible at announcing publications here at Thutopia.

But here are a few from recent months I've neglected (more are in the pipeline):

"Then, at 2:30. . . ." at 365 Tomorrows

The talk-show of the future will cover celebrity problems of the future.

"Yes, Snow White Ate the Apple. It Was a Suicide." at MicroHorror

Hardly an original idea to rework Snow White as a horror story, but I hope where I'm standing results in a different view.

"Overall free" at 無μ Magazine

This poem is . . . probably about . . . something . . . or other.

"Accidentally Deleted" at Quantum Fairy Tales

Considering all the science-fiction poetry I was writing back when I was an Asimov's subscriber, it's nice to see some end up in print.

UPDATE

Just hours after I posted this, look what went up:

"Inappropriate Book Illustrations Redeemed Through the Glory of Dance" at Red Fez

(self explanatory)

Creation svithe

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What CREATING teaches me about the CREATOR

After today's sacrament meeting ended the bishop leaned over and asked how does it feel to create sacrament meeting topics. I had to admit I love it.

Today's topic was inspired by last year's Arts Sunday. I had to wear a hat more appropriate to keeping my eyeglasses clear of rain, but I did bring my black beret with me to which I have added twenty Mormon Arts-themed pins as you can see here.

I began my introduction to the topic by talking about the end of my mission, and my frequent rereading of Elder Ballard's 1996 talk on the arts while eating corndogs and getting desperately ill. (Good times.)

Then I talked about the beret and the work of some of the artists featured on it who are connected to our ward (see the other post for related contest information).

And then I shared this quote from then Elder Thomas S. Monson:

God left the world unfinished for man to work his skill upon. He left the electricity in the cloud, the oil in the earth. He left the rivers unbridged and the forests unfelled and the cities unbuilt. God gives to man the challenge of raw materials, not the ease of finished things. He leaves the pictures unpainted and the music unsung and the problems unsolved, that man might know the joys and glories of creation.

And then I let them rip. I'll put brief notices of the talks in the comments section roughly three hours after this post goes live.

previous svithe

A Forbidden Fruit Svithe

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Here's a thought. Both options were good options. The better choice also was the choice that seemed like the lesser choice.

Perhaps that's a lesson for us. Sometimes the Lord may expect us to choose what seems like the lesser choice.

For instance. Turning down a calling is never the right thing to do. But what if, in this circumstance, the Lord has provided an opportunity for you to do the more important thing even though accepting the call seems like what you should always always do.

Of course, this line of thinking doesn't reflect well on Abraham. . . .






previous svithe

Lo-cal (though not local, sadface, nor particularly affordable, sadface) sodas

.

A review of three low-calorie, "natural" sodas.

.

In third place . . . :

Natural Jones Soda is lucky I only tasted three sodas for this contest because it's kind of awful. I mean---tasting it Andronico's it was fine, but when you have more than a single ounce? Uck. The salesman talked me into the purchase. Besides being a natural low-calorie soda, he told me, it has fiber! Well! I bought it! Didn't think to check the ingredients for myself. Added caffeine? I feel betrayed. Not cool, soda salesguy. Not cool. Plus, it's too sweet in that icky nonsugar way and just doesn't taste very good. Currently only available in California.

In second place . . . :

Q is terrific. We picked this one up at Andronico's in the same visit we got the Jones. We only tried these two flavors, but they were wonderful. Just carbonated high-end juice, really. You can't go wrong with Q's citrus, clearly. I'm anxious to try their ginger. And maybe I'll finally get around to trying tonic water in Q's capable hands.

And our winner . . . :

DRY Soda manages to be all things I want. A soda that's as good at room temperature as cold. Comes in interesting flavors and comes at them from an interesting direction (once you've tasted one, you can recognize them all). Sadly, no store near enough sells them (we happened to be in Pinole when we bought them), but I'm fond. I want to try rhubarb! I want them to make celery! DRY is the right brand to finally produce a basil soda (I really really want a basil soda). But it's not just for flavors I've imagined that I choose DRY. Blood orange was a bit dull, but those other three flavors are clear winners. Buy DRY.

Coupla kids books, a screenplay, some Ian McEwan

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009) Heat by Mike Lupica, finished January 22

Big O expressed interest in this book years before he was capable of reading it, but I bought it and stashes it in the closet and we finally got around to giving it to him this Christmas. He read it, thought it was terrific, handed it off to me.

Though I can make complaints about the couple times it pointlessly broke pov etc, I agree: this was a pretty terrific book. The lead character is super likable even though he runs a constant risk of turning Mary Sue (I mean: greatest pitcher, greatest center fielder, greatest catcher, greatest batter). The crisis he and his brother are thrown into it instantly gripping, and that's channeled into the baseball story and baby we're off.

I also liked it's metareferences to film and happy endings in the closing chapters because the story definitely heads that direction---though props to Lupica for finding a better ending spot than the Little League World Series. Heroes win, villains lose, friends remain true, beautiful girls share sexless 12-year-old crushes, miracles happen. Baseball, fathers and sons, hope, forgiveness. It's an epic at 240 largeprint pages.

six days



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008) Happy Birthday, Bad Kitty by Nick Bruel, finished January 21

Best use of second person ever! Combining heavy illustrations (parts of the book certainly count as comics) with a friendly forbearance of voice combine to an approachable narrator and a close identification with the surly (but recognizable) protagonist. Fun book to read to small kids (but not so small that they can't stick with you for over a hundred [very speedy] pages).

evening



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007) Impasse by Kohl Glass (story by Jason Conforto), finished January 16

Shot right, this has potential to be a killer (and supercheap) little indie film. Think Lifeboat. Underground.

evening



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006) Sweet Tooth by Ian McEwan, finished January 16

At this near remove, I'm not sure if I like this book more than I am annoyed by it, or vice versa. Let's start with the annoyances, shall we?

Page 82: "In a sense, this was when the story began. . . ."

This is so so true. I almost I almost put this book down and wrote it up as unfinished many times. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BOOOOOORING. Nothing nothing nothing then more nothing. And this a spy novel!

Anyway, I stuck with it and the story began. McEwan is as good with sex and relationships as ever but we'll get to that later.

Next annoying thing: the final 28 pages. In which the curtain is pulled back and we see the entire thing's just been an elaborate metafictional setup (#spoileralert). What? Are you playing games with me, McEwan?

But here's where we'll start seguing to what I like, because I pass through anger to grudging acceptance to pleasure over the course of those 28 pages. I'm still pissed off to have been played, but it was all to such nice ends! 'Tis no mistake the word "sweet" is in the title.

I also love how this spy novel is actually about literature and, specifically, a moment in literature---one I don't know well---1970s England. And it's drawn so lovingly and perfectly. It's an attractive time to show up.

So cut the beginning. Seriously reconsider the ending. I don't know what I think about it. Not as good as my favorite McEwan novels, but no slouch of a novel either.

In the end? I dunno.

Other McEwan novels:

On Chesil Beach
The Black Dogs
Atonement

three or four or more weeks





Previously in 2014 . . . . :

First books of ’Fourteen!

.

0##) The Man Who Grew His Beard by Olivier Schrauwen, finished January 12

At first, I didn't know how to take this book. How deliberate were the variations in character appearance? Is this intentional or just bad drawing? In other words, is he doing something really strange but worthy like David Mazzucchelli, or is he doing something crap like (in my unpopular opinion) Gary Panter? It wasn't easy to tell. But by the end of this collection, I'm leaning to the former.

These surrealist tales are connected by characters or visual motifs or other little doodads, but they don't make sense together until the end. The final three stories each offer an explanation for the weirdness of the preceding tales and provide a viewpoint from which to understand the collection as a whole. I didn't realize this was happening as I read the first of the three until I finished the book, but the mythic recreation of an artist who invents the world provides one framework to consider these tales.

The next story is about the interior fantasy of a paralyzed man unable to communicate with the world around him. At first, as he rewrites his fantasies on the go, I was about to declare the whole collection sloppiness disguised as art, but as I came to understand the conceit, I finally came around and began to consider the possibility that Schrauwen really was up to something impressive.

The final story is a science-fictive explanation, in ways both the most confused and more clear of all the stories. Looking back, other stories (the comics business, for instance) also are explanations for how a world and its art can become the same.

Anyway. Not bad. I'm not totally converted, but certainly worth a looksee.

three or four days



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004) Pokémon Black and White, Vol. 1 by Hidenori Kusaka and Satoshi Yamamoto, finished January 10

How I came to read this book is a boring and abysmal story, but suffice it to say that this book is a mess. Like, say, a Scooby-Doo book I recently read, it doesn't seem to have anything going for it beyond its audience's enthusiasm. Which is apparently enough. Because everything else about this book is stupid. Add to that the lame (and faulty) shortcuts it takes which work even less with those unimmersed in manga. Let's just hope I never have to read another one.

five or six days



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003) Friends with Boys by Faith Erin Hick, finished January 7

We are truly in a golden age of comics. This is a beautiful piece of work, and my patience for high-school stories is generally pretty thin.

Kudos:

The drawing is terrific. The way the characters hold themselves---I know these people. And family members look alike without looking the same.

And the telling is literary. For instance, the ghost and the mom are obviously parallel, but the meaning of that pareallelism is far from obvious. And the same could be said of the haircuts. So many examples.

Hicks also balances humor and pathos like a champ. In all, one of the easiest to recommend comics I've read. Who wouldn't be able to enjoy this?

Incidentally, long ago I started reading this online, but like many great reads, the upload pace was slow and I forgot about it. So thanks to Jeff Smith for returning me to it.

Also, Hicks is the author of Superhero Girl, another online I loved then lost.

You should really check her out.

less than two weeks, probably less than one



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002) The Drop by Michael Connelly, finished January 7

I got both Connelly books at the same time, and until the last one got more fun at the end, I thought I wouldn't read this one. But it did and I did and I'm glad because this book was much, much better. Largely, I think, because he stuck with one pov. Still not Great Literature, by any means, but both of the protagonist's victories are tainted and in quite different ways. This is, in other words, a very high-quality potato chip indeed.

over a month



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001) The Rejection Collection, Vol. 2 edited by Matthew Diffee, finished January 6

Such a lost opportunity. And don't get me wrong. It's not that what's here is inherently dissatisfying---it's just so paltry. Thirty-eight New Yorker cartoonists who, according to the math suggested by the introduction, get rejected about 450 times a year. Some of them have been submitting for decades. Which suggests mountains of old panels lying around unused. Yet on average, each toonist has about five. Plus a page of photographs and two pages of a fun little fill-in-the-blank form (that gets endlessly repetitive as many low-hanging jokes get picked over and over). Only after which we get to three to maybe seven pages of cartoons, one per page.

Compare this to the 1950s-era NY collection I read last month which varied cartoon sizes, often fitting several to a page. Frankly, this wasted space is absurd and would make me feel pretty ripped off.

The other issue (of sorts) is that Diffee's editing seems to suggest a desire to prove that the best gags left out of The New Yorker's pages are generally a bit gross in some way. Probably this reflects his own tastes, but when you consider how many cartoons they reject each year, it wouldn't be hard to currate a rejection collection that suggests any other theory as well.

So overall, a cool idea for fans of the cartoonists, but undernourished in many ways.

a week or so

Overheard on Facebook

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although this is funny since, you
know, who these people are will
hardly be secret among those who
are likely to see it here

Getting God a Christmas Present (a svithe)

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Today was the first week with Joseph Fielding Smith and the first lesson included this correlation-written section heading (JFS was huge into correlation, so I'm sure he supports this):

To . . . worship [God], we must have an understanding of His characteristics.

We crazy old high priests debated just how true this was (or, if you prefer, just how we should understand this) and many useful insights were shared. I liked my metaphor, so I'm recording it.

Worshiping God is kind of like getting a Christmas present for a family member. You love them and you want to get them a Christmas present as a symbol of your attachment, but you don't really see them as much as you used to, you don't really know what they do with their spare time anymore, you don't know what they're into. So you get the present for God and he appreciates the thought but it's really not what he wanted but he says thank you and smiles and you feel appreciated. But giving God what he really wants would be worshiping him in the way President Smith means.

I dunno. What do you think?

previous svithe

This post is a post.

.

This is where I post the post when I post a post. Which I post whenever I post a post.

Crazy, Stupid, Love.a spoiler-rich list of reasons not to like this movie I liked

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In my regular movies posting, I'll have my single paragraph about how much I liked this movie. But now that twelve hours have passed, I've started to be irritated by more things. Which is a shame because so much of this movie is so excellent. For instance, the dialogue between Steve Carell and Julianne Moore does a fantastic job of showing their long and loving history even at their lowest moments. That's pretty exquisite stuff. And did you see how the filmmakers set an entire character up just by the way she placed her thumb on a photograph? Or how they set up the big surprise honestly yet without ever tipping their hand? These are the elements that suggest you're in the hands of great filmmakers.

Which is why, I suppose, the film's failings are bothering me as much as they do.

But it might also be the nature of this particular failing.

But before we go further, perhaps you want to watch it? (Netflix)(Amazon)(iTunes)(WB)

Pretty great movie, right?

So let's talk about the reason it's not great. Which is that the filmmakers have an almost toddler-like solipsism. Characters without names aren't real---and some characters with names are only real when they're being addressed.

Let's take an obvious example.

Remember the scenes at the restaurant when Emma Stone (correction: Hannah---I'm switching over to character names now that you've seen the movie) is with the other lawyers or protolawyers or whatever they are? First, we don't know what they are. In the fist scene I assumed they were all law students as I assumed Hannah was. Ends up Richard at least is a lawyer---and maybe all those besuited nonpersonalities were. Doesn't matter. The filmmakers don't care who they are so why should we?

They're not even true human beings. Consider that they can't hear any conversation between Hannah and Liz even though Hannah is the focus of attention. They can't hear a conversation between Hannah and Richard even though that conversations is the focus of their attention. These aren't human beings. They have no interior life. They are convenient bodies taking up space so the frame looks populated. That's it.

The same issue occurs is the movie's Big Moment (the only thing I complained about in my original, yet-to-be-posted review), the eighth-grade graduation. Never mind that this is obviously not enough eighth-graders for how big the school has been shown to be in previous scenes, consider the fact that everyone is politely silent clear through the entire awkward mess. What? What? No nervous twitters? No shuffling of feet? No nothing? Just people sitting absolutely still and, when their faces are shown (rarely), smiling. NO ONE would be smiling. Certainly not in that polite way. And you know who disappears once Cal shows up? Ms Taffety. That's who. As soon as Cal starts Inspiring Everyone, she disappears. Conveeeenient.

Again when Cal and Emily are at the parent-teacher conference. How in the world are these things structured that they get to be alone in an empty hallway? Apparently the only other person in the building is Ms Taffety, sitting alone in her room for no known reason. Convenient for the storytellers, but also reveals contempt for everyone other than the currently necessary characters.

And this is the one failing of Crazy, Stupid, Love.: These exquisitely drawn characters live in a world without other human beings. Take David Lindhagen. Barely sometimes human. Take the bar. How are we supposed to believe that both Cal and Jacob are there every night yet never run into the same woman twice? The only woman ever upset by the casual lays is the one who upset is plottily convenient. The world only exists where the camera is. Only the camera exists, the camera and what the camera sees.

The solipsism of the camera.

The real question I suppose is whether this single (but soaked-in) sin is enough to keep me from enjoying the movie a second, third, fourth, fifth time.

Answer: I don't know.

But I'm sure I'll watch it at least a second time. Maybe I'll let you know.

The Movies of 2013*: One-paragraph reviews *third third only *feature-length only

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Well, I thought we might get out one more time to see one of the great-looking artsy films in theaters this month or watch one of the movies we impulsively picked up at a Blockbuster fire sale but maybe year?

In theaters:

Gravity (2013): Tell you what: space has just lost a lot of its attraction. But my opinion? It's as good as everyone's said. Sandra Bullock will be getting an Oscar nomination. And sitting close to the screen with 3D glasses? Awesome. I jumped and gasped when pieces of the ISS flew past me. And it was not a cheap thrill. It was part of a real and dangerous world. But seriously: I don't really need to go into space anytime soon.

Ender's Game (2013): If you haven't read the book, I say watch the movie first. The novel is so rich and deep. The movie necessarily simplifies, but I think it does a good job. Hard to say though as I know the novel fairly well (not great---I'm not ready for a tv-based Ender's Game Trivia shootout---just fairly well). But I did enjoy the movie and was even moved a couple times and now I really really want someone to attempt to bring Shadow of the Hegemon to the screen (big or---maybe better---small). It'll never happen of course (Peter and Valentine, necessarily, were underdeveloped; no Achilles; your first-movie lead has no role), but it would be cool. The other effect the movie had on me was a deep desire to reread Speaker for the Dead. Of course, you can read any of these books yourself.

The Muppet Movie (1979): I'm not employing hyperbole when I say that this was one of the greatest movie-theater experiences of my life. I've watched this movie a handful of times in my life---most of them in adulthood, most like---but I've listened to the soundtrack HUNDREDS of times. After graduating from high school, for some reason I bought the tape and it was on regular rotation the year before and the year after my mission when I logged endless commute hours driving from Tehachapi to Bakersfield and back. I know these songs as well or better than all other songs in the world. I don't know if I go through a week without singing lines from "Rainbow Connection" or "Movin' Right Along" or "Can You Picture That?" or "I Hope That Somethin' Better Comes Along or "I'm Going To Go Back There Someday" or "The Magic Store." The DNA of this movie has merged with my own DNA and I'm some sort of Muppet hybrid. Anyway, seeing it with an audience of adults who laughed at the Hari Krishna jokes and kids who laughed at Miss Piggy beating up badguys was a joy. I nearly wept for some reason when Big Bird said he was heading to New York City to try to break into public television. Holy smokes, this was great. I need a theater to do a singalong next. I mostly kept myself from singing along today, but not entirely.

Frozen (2013): Given the hype around this movie, I expected more. My bad. Still. Pretty good. Both Lady Steed and I agreed that sometimes the voices didn't seem to be coming out of the mouths on the screen. The songs were more Broadway than Disney and I don't think they'll age well. The character design was off at times. And while I'll give props for playing against some Disney-fairy-tale tropes, they played into others twice as big. So overall a win, but nothing to start an Oscar campaign over.

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013): We went 3D on this one in order to get the higher frame-rate projection. The first movie was a headache to watch---the camera moved to quickly to make out anything. Everything was blurred. The higher frame rate solved this problem, though it did introduce the too-real problem. I don't really care how closely the movie followed the book; I liked the movie. Not a great movie like the LotRs tended to be, but perfectly enjoyable. It is getting a bit ridiculous how no dwarf can die though. Just saying.

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013): First, it must be said again and again, Jennifer Lawrence is the real thing. A star. And not for today, but I suspect she would prove to be one of the all-time greats. That final look at her face is what Hitchcock said^{[citation needed]} is the greatest special effect: the human face undergoing emotional change. I liked this movie better than the first, which is remarkable when you consider the books started (in my minority opinion) merely okay and got worse. Good writing, pacing, casting. And Jennifer Lawrence.

At home:

His Girl Friday (1940): Although as rapid-fire and funny as I expected, I did not expect how dark it was. With constant undercurrents of crime and war and corruption, it's not a film that can be dismissed as pure fun. (Not that there's anything wrong with pure fun.) I have to admit I wasn't able to fully enjoy it as a movie because I was too busy studying how it---especially its dialogue---was crafted. It's not just speedily delivered---it's complicated and tightly rigged, that dialogue.

Waitress (2007): I didn't like what was done with music and I thought the medical details were a bit sketchy and that old Joe wasn't consistently imagined. Which might sound like a lot, but the film is pretty astonishing all the same. Keri Russell has true star charisma dialed into a small, small space now I really need to see Austenland). The writing was sharp in the way we associate with Diablo Cody or Quentin Tarantino, but it's a bit more honest and believable. I particularly was intrigued by the protagonist's imagining of pies. That's something I can learn from.

Swiss Family Robinson (1960): Sure it has some "flaws," but seriously: is there a more fun movie to watch with your family? I mean really? And frankly, some of those flaws could just as easily be taken as lessons in innovative storytelling. No need to connect the obvious dots, friend.

The Cheat (1915): After recognizing the pirate captain in Swiss Family Robinson, I went to IMBd to look him up. Of course: Bridge over the River Kwai (which I've never seen but have seen enough famous scenes from). But it ends up that Sessue Hayakawa was a major Hollywood star of the silent era. And this is the film that made him famous. Made him a major romantic lead. Before America got all racist against Asians and stuff. But if this is a preracist film, holy moly, I would hate to watch a racist one. (Note: I actually saw the 1918 rerelease version of the film.)

The Amazing Adventure (1936): Apparently the version I watched was the American cut, trimmed twenty minutes from the British original. Which is a shame, because I kept thinking that editing was absolutely amateurish and that a bit more room to develop would have served the characters well. Not that more minutes could fix the generally bad writing or flaky directing, but it wouldn't have hurt either. Anyway, that said, this movie is proof that Cary Grant can carry a film. Even with all its flaws, I rather enjoyed this mess. I would have loved to've seen him in vaudeville.

A Night at the Opera (1935): No chaos like Marx Bros. chaos. By the way, have you ever noticed that Chico in a gypsy costume looks a lot like Fred Armison? Fred Armison needs to do a Chico. Anyway, the crammed-cabin routine gets funnier every time I see it.

The Iron Giant (1999): Little Lord Steed's been bugging to watch this movie for a week. Large S started by saying it would be too scary and wanting none of it to wanting to watch it. Big O recalls liking it. All three spent much of the movie covering their faces or hiding under tables or leaving the room. Clearly, we're not ready for Jurassic Park yet. As for me? Well. No movie makes me sob like The Iron Giant makes me sob.

Elf (2003): A true holiday classic notwithstanding its third-act collapse (and absurd view of picture-book publishing), Elf may be the most important movie I've seen in the last ten years by virtue of introducing me to Zooey Deschanel's voice.

When Harry Met Sally... (1989): I see why everyone loves this movie so much. And like Casablanca that it references, it's so loaded with lines I just know, even though I've never seen this movie before. The interstitial interviews were more daring than they seem and worked quite well. Overall, so nice to see a good romcom. It's been a while.

The Indian in the Cupboard (1995): Wow. Intrusive score, poor acting, weak script. Not sad I missed this last time around. The kids really wanted to watch it though (don't ask me how they found out about it) so I complied. Alas, alas. Not Frank Oz's finest work. Some classid 90s hair on display though. So that's fun.

Sleepwalk with Me (2012): I've been wanting to see this movie since I heard some thing with Mike Brubiglia and Ira Glass on NPR when it came out. It was in a Berkeley theater at the time, but we weren't able to work it. How does it stand up to his radio work? Pretty well. It's a good movie, to be sure. When it ended, I blurted, "That's the end???" with three question marks and so I guess I'm left a tad unsatisfied, but now I want to see My Girlfriend's Boyfriend. So no too unsatisfied.

Elsewhere:

Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) 2x: Such a well crafted movie from the words to the blocking. The closest thing I can think of to a complaint is the sometimes flexible sizes of things. A chicken, for instance, shrinks when a fox holds it.

A Bucket of Blood (1959): I'm happy to report if you can get 14yrolds past the opening few minutes, they totally dig this movie.

Monsters, Inc. (2001): Interesting this time to see how the storytellers dealt with Boo's scaring. It's not entirely consistent, but I've seen this movie so many times and never noticed before.

Now You See Me (2013): It's a hyper-hyphy heist! It's a crazy-cool caper! It's a lot of fun to watch! It also strains credulity. It features a cheap twist, logical holes, some really absurdly bad moments of screenwriting (I'm looking at you, romance, but not only you). Ultimately, it just kind of pissed me off. I can see why teenagers like it, but I'll not be watching it again.

Romeo and Juliet (1968) x2: I'm getting a bit tired of this. Haven't seen the new one (haven't heard much good), but I'm hoping for the best.

Corianton (1931): Is this a bad movie? Oh, yes. As bad as everyone says? Certainly. Was it worth watching? Oh, yes. Will I watch is again? Quite possibly. Were the costumes as sexy as Orson Scott Card suggested? Much more so.

Gentlemen Broncos (2009) x2: I love this movie more than I did at first. And it's terrific when discussing metafiction. But man is it weird.

The Princess Bride (1987) x2: I am enjoying teaching this book so much. And the movie never gets old.

Black Orpheus (1959): I can't say I really watched this. So much dancing I can't stay focused. Especially when showing it to a class that can't go five minutes without a shoving match. . . . That said, the last half hour is pretty cool, watched without other people.

A Christmas Story (1983): I never saw this movie through as a child, but it's now a seasonal favorite. I'm glad.

Final finished books of 2013

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Time to accept I'm not finishing any more books this year.

So, without any further ado, numbers 129 and 128! Dickens and Gaffigan!

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129) Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, finished December 30

Ah, point-of-view. While the final scene of this novel is satisfying novelistically, it is a bizarre point to believe that it is where Pip himself would choose to end his story. (Though I'm sure there is plenty of fanfic leading on from that moment.)

As a kid, Great Expectations was one of the least frequently read of my Moby Books, but all the same I read it more than once. So I know much of the story, even if in highly abridged form.

But the highly abridged was the most important part as I read the full novel. So many things I never saw coming.

I think, though, I would have enjoyed the book more if I hadn't simultaneously assigned it to my freshmen. The bulk of them were unprepared for a reading like this and I had to keep telling them it would get better (and it did!) with a desperate hope that it would (it did!).

As for me? I liked it much more than Oliver Twist, the only other non-Christmas Dickens novel I've read as an adult.

TIME



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128) Dad Is Fat by Jim Gaffigan, finished December 23

Lady Steed didn't make it through a page of this book without laughing incontrollably. Me, I didn't literally lol so often, but I was intrigued, professionally, by the way he structures a joke. You can tell he's in standup because plenty of the jokes would work better delivered orally than on paper. But if you can read them in Gaffigan's voice, all the better.

A pretty great book for beleaguered parents who need a laugh though, I dare say.

over a month



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127) Carol of the Tales and Other Nightly Noels edited by Michael Young, finished December 24

The quality varied from the surprisingly good to the invoking of Thumper's dad, but I'm still glad the book existed and that I wrote for it.

twenty-four days





Previously in 2013 . . . . :

Kupla Killrz Kummin Krismaseve

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126) Green River Killer: A True Detective Story by Jeff Jensen and Jonathan Case, finished December 22

Hey! Another terrific true-story serial-killer comic book written by an ancillary participant! In this case, the writer is the son of a lead detective. The story skips around from the post-arrest interviews with the killer, the events of the time (both killer and police), contemporaneous events, etc. It's one of the least glamorized looks at police work I've ever read and thus feels particularly honest and true.

A fine procedural, and a good read.

two days



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125) My Friend Dahmer by Derf Backderf, finished December 20

One half nostalgic look at teenagedom, one half chilling recounting of the tragic decent of a weird kid into monsterdom.

The book was a good read while being terribly thoughtprovoking. When Dahmer's crimes were discovered I was at the front end of a deep fascination with serial killers, but Dahmer? Never. Perhaps because he was NOW and therefore hard to view dispassionately. Perhaps his particular set of macabre traits were too much even for an Albert Fish fan. Who knows. I don't know.

Anyway, this book got my mind rolling in many directions.

For instance, Backderf places a lot of blame on inattentive adults. For sure, his parents should have seen the drinking problems, etc, and probably school officials should have done more than they did---today they would---but as a high-school teacher I can tell you: being a teacher is not like being a student. Most of what I thought was happening when I was a student is completely outside my sphere of knowledge as an adult on campus. So much I do not know. How can I? I'm locked in a room. And even when I'm outside my room, "what's happening" does not happen as I walk by. I can sometimes see hints of what's happening, but I don't have enough information to build a case or to even know what case there is to be built. When something does boil to the surface, I'm constantly surprised.

I'm also now wondering how certain misfits from my childhood turned out.

Hoo.

It's a dark and crazy world. And for the first time, I see Dahmer as a tragic figure. Backderf quickly and frequently insists that sympathy for Dahmer ends as soon as he kills for the first time, but I'm not sure I can go quite that far. Sure, he became a monster. Yes, it would have been better for him to kill himself than continue down that road. But what an awful deck of cards to be built. I can't image being a teenager whose burgeoning sexuality turns him toward corpses. It's not fair. And leaves no good solution.

Unsettling, thoughtful, honest, true. Read the notes, read the postscript. Good book.

a few days






Previously in 2013 . . . . :

Have a Very Theric New Year (or, you know, last minute christmas shopping or whatever)

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2013 is drawing to a close, but 2014 is about to emerge from it's papery ashes. And what better way to celebrate the new year than with the old year's thericky goodness? Some of which, I might add, is still quite fresh?

The first thing to mention is the two Christmas anthologies I was included in this year, one heart-warming, one heart-charring (click any picture in this post to get to Amazon):

I also have a hymn and a personal remembrance of how I came to write it in a collection of goddess literature. I don't have my copy yet (it's in the mail), so I can only guess whether or not I'm the only one holding down the Mormon fort in this volume, but I'm quite curious to see how well my work fits in amongst its pagan peers.

Of course, the other thing I was promoting recently is "The Great Mormon Novel of the 21st Century" which has been doing okay business on the Amazon. So far, no reviews online so you still can take my word for it that it's the finest piece of literature so far this century. I mean---no one's said otherwise---how can you doubt it?

Humility constrains me to mention that when you buy an anthology with my work in it, I can't guarantee the quality of the work generally. Just consider that a general disclaimer. I do, however, guarantee satisfaction for my own work

And, of course, the granddaddy of Thericonia released in 2013, the paperback version of Byuck. Excerpts of reviews quoted on or submitted to the Amazon page:

"I guess part of me also wants to throw in the towel, forget all of the analytic crap that goes with being a critic, and write what I want to say: THIS BOOK IS HILARIOUS! READ IT, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" - Scott Hales, Association for Mormon Letters

A lot of people have compared Byuck to Napoleon Dynamite and . . . The Death of a Disco Dancer. . . . I kept thinking of John Kennedy Toole's A Confederacy of Dunces. The plot's not similar but it has some of that creative chaos that makes Confederacy so memorable. --- Doug Gibson, the Standard-Examiner

"If you ever wanted to know what would have happened if Godot had shown up, read Byuck, wherein coffee tables are transgressive and Billy Joel claims to be innocent. I LOL'd. For real. Not like you do online where you just kind of huff with a mouth twitch. No, I totally LOL'd. Woke up the cat." -- Moriah Jovan, author of The Proviso and Magdalene

"With humor and affection, Theric Jepson creates a story that gleans the best from both the romantic comedy tradition and the literary LDS tradition. Snappy dialogue and quirky characters make Byuck an enjoyable read for book clubs and Mormon literature enthusiasts." -- Laura Craner, A Motley Vision

If Dave Eggers had gone to BYU, this is what he would have written. A pitch perfect voice and a lot of very funny lines. -- Daftwooly

You know the first five minutes of Moulin Rouge, where the main character starts singing "The hills are alive....with the sound of music.." And you think "...huh...okay, that's kinda random, but sure..." And then once you've embraced the quirkiness, a sweet, unexpected, delicious love story falls into your hands, all the more tasty because of the what-the-heck, random quirks. You know? Well, that's the first few chapters of Byuck. It's like the first 10 seconds of Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along-Blog after he breaks into song in the introductory scene. Or the first fight scene in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Stick with it, because like all those stories I mentioned, this is totally worth it. -- Satsuki