Airplanes,. Foucault, and WALL-E

I just did a paper on WALL-E, and just flew from Paris to HK (which was about 24 hours of traveling in all). Doesn't the airplane setting remind you of something Foucaultian? I mean, honestly, in the style of Ellen Degeneres and her hilarious stand-up skit that I can no longer find, if my seat back isn't in it's full upright position when we land, and we crash, will I DIE?

The wonders and stupiding-down of technology

Have you noticed we don't worry about being late anymore when meeting people because we have cell phones? We become more lax in planning get-togethers, dinners, rendez-vous, etc because we just assume we can call when we get there. Plan last minute. And it's even worse because I have an iPhone. I hardly even look at directions before I head off, often pellmell, to a new location, trusting my GPS to get me there safely, if not on time. And if I'm not on time, no problem. I just call.

Even in Paris this summer, I went a bit technology-whore-ish by obsessing over what cell phone to get (I wanted a cheapo crap flip phone so I could pretend to be cool like Jack Bauer - he always seems to have flip phones that can set off nuclear devices at the push of a button) because I just couldn't do a whole month without a cell phone. It turned out that having a cell phone was a very good idea indeed, as a few of us got separated from our professors and group at the Louvre, and thanks to cell phones (but no thanks to intermittent reception within the Louvre), we were reunited with very little psychological trauma.

That's the thing though. Does technology make us less reliable, less responsible? I think it does. And yet, I still buy into the madness.

And, in response to Al's last post, here's a cool article that talks about technology:
http://chronicle.com/free/v55/i21/21b00601.htm

Does the Internet foster loneliness? Why does being disconnected from the web feel like a disconnection from being? Or does it? Food for thought.

Unexplained absence

Unfortunately, I have had a technological difficulty. And I need to admit something.

I am an internet service squatter. Someone in my apartment building recently wised-up and put a password on their wireless and I no longer get internet at home. BOO! That means I need to plan out my internet time, which I am not used to doing. And which I did a poor job of here because I only have 5 minutes before I am supposed to be somewhere else and thus I only have time for a notice and not an actual blog. BOO!

Ok, so now I have 3 minutes to be where I am supposed to be so I must go.

Southerners as the Other

Is it possible? Am I really going to be criticizing Joss Whedon for something? Let the disclaimer show that I still think he's the god of all things narrative and TV, but this minor thing struck me while watching Angel today.

The character of Winifred Burkle (or Fred, as she's called) is introduced to us late in Season 2 when Angel & Co rescue her from the demon dimension of Pylea. She comes off as shy and nerdy, a clear misfit (of course, in a dimension of demons and very few humans, of course she's a misfit). We don't learn until later that she's from Texas, in the episode, "Fredless." In the ep, her parents come to take LA to find her and take her home. And like all Southern characters portrayed in our lovely entertainment world, they speak with that heavy, hick-like Southern accent. An indication of their Otherness, since they don't speak perfect LA English (or, in Wesley's case, perfect British English). Secrets like the existence of demons and vampires are kept from them. They are clearly not a part of the in-crowd, and the audience is clearly supposed to laugh when Fred's mother, when talking about doing "rounds" refers to bus driving rather than medical doctoring. The stereotype of the low-class, blue-collar hick family raises its familiar head.

The ending, in true Whedon-like fashion, of course, turns our assumptions and stereotypes on its head, when Fred's parents are inevitably sucked into battle with a giant mommy bug-like demon looking for her little lost baby bugs. Fred's mother, using her bus-driving skills, squashes the bug monster with her truck. Additionally, Fred herself is a highly intelligent physicist, which shatters the Southern "dumb" stereotype.

Interestingly enough, and paradoxically, given the shattering of stereotypes that Joss Whedon is so famous for, Fred's acceptance into the in-crowd of Angel Investigations coincides neatly, and almost immediately, with the loss of her Southern accent. In the following episode, "Billy", she all but speaks like she was born and raised in Los Angeles, with nary a trace of her accent. The question is, why was that decision made for her to lose the accent? After all, Alexis Denisof, who plays the British character Wesley, is American, but maintains a British accent throughout the series. Why can't we have a character from the South with a genuine Southern accent in a setting that is not in the South (and not made fun of like in "Drop Dead Gorgeous" or "Sweet Home Alabama", where having a Southern accent marks you as white trash)? Is it because audiences feel like they can't relate to a character who is Southern, yet displays high intellect and is an important leading character of a mainstream TV show, because that's not what they're familiar with? Because someone who has a Southern accent is inherently the Other in our upper-middle class, urban/suburban, Hollywood-constructed America?

Wordsmithing

Ways I have made up words in my papers this semester:

celebrification - the making of a celebrity

panoptical, panoptic, panopticonal, panopticonic - academic ways of making "Panopticon" into an adjective

panopticony - Joss Whedon's way of making "Panopticon" into an adjective

Othering - making the Other in to a verb. To make into an Other.

Self-Othering - what these Othered groups do

Othered - making the Other into an adjective

You know...

You know you're in the coolest program in the world when you exchange South Park episodes with your professor...for academic purposes.

"God Bless You" = the new "Fuck you"

Have you noticed that if you don't give money to panhandlers, they now say "God Bless You"? I can't help but think that they're really thinking, "Fuck you, rich kid."

Sci-Fi fandom

First things first.

I want to see Star Trek, haven't yet.

Secondly, Cynthia, your last post made me realize that I may not actually be a Sci-Fi fan. I used to think I was, but I think I was kidding myself. I mean, I haven't ever really watched Star Trek either. I don't even know what Battlestar Gallactica is about (save for the whole Jim-Dwight The Office stuff). I don't read overly sci-fi stuff . . .

I guess my mom and I would stay up late to watch the X-Files together, hmm.

But I love Star Wars, Ender's Game, the movie The Fifth Element (vicariously through my mother, in the very least) . . .

My larger love is fantasy I suppose, but even then it is the typical stuff: LOTR, Harry Potter, Twilight (yes!)

I think what I am discovering about myself is that I *gulp* simply love diving into narratives that capture the mass mind?????

Okay, I need to think about this when I don't have to run out the door for work in 5 minutes. I will post more on this tonight.

Star Trek, Sci Fi, and pseudo-brainy late-night thoughts

I just got back from seeing Star Trek. It's late, my mind is rapidly shutting down. So why did it take me so long to see Star Trek?

(note, there may be some spoilers - I'm not sure. If you don't want spoilers, just don't read.)

First, I hate company and crowds at movies (I came to the epiphany today that I rather prefer watching movies by myself - even in theatres - ever since college), and rather than trying to watch a movie in the first week where the movie theatres are crowded, and if you get there late, the only seats available are way way in the front where you walk out of there and spend the rest of the day looking at the ceiling, by choosing to watch a movie at least a week and a half after opening, I am guaranteed one of the best spots in the house even if I walk in during the previews. Now, I realize that there is a whole field of study on audience response and group mentality, but let's just say I like watching my movies in peace without worrying whether or not the person or people you are with are enjoying it, or being dragged into a movie you didn't want to watch in the first place. I can fully enjoy the experience of the movie. (yes, movies and I have a bit of a love affair -it's rather complicated, you know. I should change my Facebook relationship status.)

Second, NYU has this voucher thing where I can go see a movie for $6.50. Which is dirt cheap in Manhattan. And possibly everywhere else nowadays too. The caveat is that I have to wait at least 10 days after a movie opens before the vouchers become valid. No problem. See above.

Ok, on to the actual movie.

I was thoroughly entertained. I am far FAR from a Trekkie. I doubt I have seen a single complete episode of Star Trek my entire life (I know, I shouldn't call myself a Sci Fi fan). And after I was led by the figurative ring in my nose for three years by JJ Abrams' sieve-like storytelling structures in Alias, I have dipped my toes tentatively into Lost recently upon hearing that Season 4 closes many of the loops left open the last few years of THAT series - only to feel that Lost takes itself way too seriously (I'm making the judgement reservedly because I'm only on episode 8 or so of Season 1), and I don't particularly care about the characters. So, needless to say, I didn't have much faith in Abrams' ability as a character-driven, story-satisfying filmmaker. He seems, however, to have taken a page from Joss Whedon's encyclopedia of witticisms and irony. Or maybe it was the writers. I don't know. It was just one page, but nonetheless...

I really really enjoyed Star Trek though. So much that I'm contemplating seeing it again, and have resolved to get the DVD. I'm not going to talk about how great it is though, as movie critics much wiser and more reputable than I have already beat that horse to death. I will, however, make one quick observation that hit me today with a lot of other thoughts.

John Cho was in Star Trek as a rather major character - the pilot of the Enterprise. He didn't have an accent, he didn't do kung fu (for one horrible moment, I was afraid his "experience" in hand-to-hand combat was going to be that, but it was FENCING), he was one of the crew. Hooray! Asian American activists on Asian American media representations rejoice! Here FINALLY is a character (probably not the first, but I'm not going to go back in history to see when else this has happened) who is clearly in the in-crowd, rather than being portrayed as the other. I mean, how many times have we forgotten to release our parking breaks? Then...visual assumptions were further turned on its head when it was the Russian (Russian, right?) kid who had the heavy accent that the computer couldn't understand.

Sci Fi TV shows and films, traditionally, I believe, have always had more diverse (racially) casts than others. I'm taking from a small sample, but Battlestar Galactica stars Grace Park as Sharon/Boomer/Athena with absolutely no thought or reference to her race. I loved it. That is probably one of my best examples of Asian Americans in mainstream media (if you can consider Sci Fi mainstream - maybe it's mainstream Sci Fi) along with Sandra Oh's character in Grey's Anatomy. Granted, she's a doctor. Moving on.

So, the question is, do we see more racially diverse actors in Sci Fi shows and movies because 1) Sci Fi places us in a fantastical setting where the Other is the norm, so the real-life Others in our society are normalized in Sci Fi where everyone is the Other? Alien, Asian, same difference type of attitude. Or 2) because the Sci Fi genre itself runs on the margins mainstream media, so the concept of using the visual image of the Other isn't as traumatic to the normalized image of a protagonist, especially when the audience for sci fi media is much smaller than mainstream, and therefore has less influence on any potential subversion of the dominant hegemonic framework already existing?

I don't know. I lean toward the latter option, since the first one lends itself a bit too much to textual analysis of media. And also, my grad school program has turned me into a bit of a cynic. I do see light in the tunnel though (not sure if it's the light at the end of the tunnel - more like someone's taking a jackhammer and letting light in these little holes all along the way, but there still isn't really a way out ahead...I think what needs to happen is jackhammering the tunnel so much in so many different places that it collapses completely), with characters portrayed by John Cho, Grace Park, Sandra Oh, Daniel Dae Kim (not in Lost, but in 24, as an Agent Baker) and others that bring Asian AMERICANS into the spotlight rather than just heavily accented, desexualized (or, in the case of women, oversexualized), foreign beings to be dominated by Us.

Al, this one's for you.

It needs no explanation:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=daTTOyu-E1w

My Brain is Good for Stories

Cynthia and I have been having a Twilight debate lately. I've been flying through the series the past three days and while Meyer's (author) writing is extreeeemely amateur, I simply can't NOT enjoy the story.

Cynthia asks--"WHAT STORY?!?!" And this is where my brain comes in.

You could hand me three pages about two toothpicks in a pickle and my brain would find something to run with.

Ever since I can remember, story has been of great importance in my life. On long road trips my dad would spend hours and hours retelling the Lord of the Rings stories, or Lois L'aMour stories (predictable westerns), or other stories.

I love stories, even when what is presented isn't "good" my brain makes it good. It's a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it bolsters my optimistic outlook, a curse because it means I get sucked into—dare I say it—Nicholas Sparks. (But why is that a curse? mass culture debates, social hierarchy of tastes and arts, bla bla bla . . . this isn't the post for that)

Again I must clarify: An author may be an awful writer, but in his/her book, if there is just a seed of a story, my brain will find it and grow it into a full-fledged narrativian extravaganza.

So this is why I like the Twilight series. Meyer: not a good writer. Her story? eh, it's no Harry Potter, LOTR, or Ender's Game, but there are the seedlings of a good story in there—albeit Bella is the most cynical girl ever and she should just be grateful she's got werewolves and vampires protecting her, I digress. My mind has latched on to those little seedlings of story in there and is running with it. JUST TRY AND STOP ME. You can't.

And that is what good my brain is.

So much pressure...

...to think of a really good sentence with which to conclude a long paper. *Sigh* This will take up the next 24 hours, I'm sure.

I just posted this from my phone. Gotta love technology convergence!

Wide-toothed combs

I started tugging at a thread last night and then realized what I was doing. It was a sad half an hour. HOWEVER, I have officially surrendered—I think surrendered is a more appropriate word than "finished"—my biggest paper for this semester. I spent 3 hours (maybe more, not sure) on doing an APA style check. UFDA! When I went to bed I had this strange sensation that my eyes were crossing whenever I shut my eyes and I just could NOT fall asleep. So, in order to keep my eyes from crossing I fell asleep by resting my hands on my eyeballs. Somehow the pressure seemed to help. Whether they actually were crossing or not, I will never know.

I love how this blog is so far just rants and updates about progress. It is a bit therapeutic though. Plus, once Cynthia and I are actually DONE with these papers I am sure our thoughts will be much more useful.

That time of the semester

I just finished a very close final draft of one final paper. One of three due within the next week and a half. The two others I have not yet started. At all. The plan tomorrow is to go through the finished one with a fine-toothed comb...but not too fine (or all my arguments, channeling Al here, will seem like they fall apart - like, do you ever get that one little thread strand in your shirt, and you keep tugging at it, and tugging at it, and it gets longer and longer, and soon you realize that half your shirt is frayed? If only you left that little thread alone, you'd still have your shirt...Ok, that's actually never happened to shirts with me - it's always the elasticky thing in my underwear. You know what, I tried to keep this somewhat G-rated...give me a break, ok, it's late and I'm very sleep-deprived)

In any case. My brain hurts. At this point, it's no good at all.

It's not a big deal, right?

Ok so when is it a big deal? "It" being school papers, and "big deal" meaning you better have all of your t's dashed and i's dotted.

Inevitably, when I come to the last bits of a paper I commence on a downward spiral of doubt. My argument is porous. This isn't even significant. I'm the only one who cares . . . wait, do I even care?

I'm a neo-perfectionist. I don't fall into a psychotic state for the purpose of ensuring perfection. Instead, I just set perfectionist goals for myself, and then act like a normal person. Upside? I don't turn in to a neurotic person who totally loses grip on the big picture. Downside? I am not sure I will ever turn in a paper and think is top notch. Or in the words of our dear friend Melissa De Witte: "Fuck you question, I answered you!"

*Sigh*

So what good is my brain? I'd like to think its entertaining, at least. :)

Quick thoughts about Asian American studies

.....it's like someone I used to be married to, then divorced, and am now flirting with again. It's quite uncomfortable, in a familiar sort of way...

Spicy things are good for the brain

Or possibly just for the palate. I don't know how much my brain is appreciating the "Face Towel Noodles" I just had at Peep (it's this Thai place down in SoHo). I think it might have stopped my brain from working properly because all it's saying to me right now is NAPTIME!!!

We promise (or at least I do...I'm not sure I should be making promises for other people) to post more...intellectual-sounding stuff soon.

In other words, I need to revisit William Hung for this paper. Ugh.

Concerning the good-ness of brains

I am contemplating going for a run or taking a nap—all while I need to be writing papers. But, alas, I cannot seem to get what is on my brain onto my paper. Wait, not paper, but, screen. Well, eventually paper.

I am going to write a real first post later, but had to put something up. Thanks for putting it together Cynth! (haha) Now for my paper . . . or run . . . or . . . nap . . .

What Good Is My Brain?

What good is my brain if I can't get what's in it communicated clearly to other people?

Fundamental theory of communication, right?

Al, expand on this please.