Perhaps the Most Important Question You Can Ask

As a recent college graduate of only 24, I don’t presume to know how to fix the world. Yes, a lot of problems exist out there: poverty, inequality, terrorism, and (as a friend of mine pointed out to me recently) children starving in Africa and elsewhere. Everyone seems to know these problems exist, but little appears to be done about them. Why? In my limited experience, I find that nothing is ever solved because no one can agree on how best to do it. So rather than spend time coming up with a viable solution, we spend a lot of time…

…bickering. You want a perfect example? Check out your Facebook feed for today. How many people are either championing or demonizing the Supreme Court’s decision to uphold the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (That’s its name, everybody…can we use it)? Or how about the onslaught of debate brought about because of a rainbow-creme Oreo? Or, my favorite example, the stonewalling Congress faced last year with the nation’s financial crisis, because rather than compromise and work toward a solution, our elected representatives took a “my way or the highway” approach. The attitude seems to be that as long as we can find someone to whom we can assign the blame for our problems, a solution is unnecessary because simply having a scapegoat is much easier, and it’s enough.

Now, I admit, I’ve done this a time or two as well. Like I said, I have no idea how to fix some of these problems. However, in the midst of all the ranting about whatever the flavor of the day issue is, I’d like to offer some advice that has served me well over the years: when you find yourself in a debate, discussion, or argument about whatever, take a moment and ask yourself this one question, which as the title suggests, may be the most important question you could ask yourself:

“What if I’m wrong?”

Now I know that seems childish and immature, but allow me to give an example from my life that helps to illustrate the power of this question. I served as a missionary for the LDS Church for two years in Brazil, and if you’ve ever spent time around a group of LDS missionaries, one characteristic becomes very clear very quickly: they often testify how they know what they’re teaching is true. They’ll use a phrase with the words “I know” almost any time they talk to anybody, even if it’s just a quick conversation on a bus. Now, I’m not saying that kind of assurance and confidence is a bad thing – I did it, and I truly meant it…nearly always. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a time or two during those two years where I sat back and thought “what if:” what if the rest of the world is right? what if I’m am a delusional, fanatical, manipulative sophist? What if the LDS faith really is one of the biggest frauds the world has ever seen? Because even those moments with the “still, small voice” could easily be explained as evidence of a deluded and brainwashed psyche.

It was a sobering thought…one that I’m sure many have had before and since. Yet, asking that question – “what if I’m wrong?” – helped me to see something that appears obvious, but has deep and resounding implications: our beliefs, and little else, define who we are. Again, seems obvious, but think for a moment how important that idea is. Our entire identity – who we are, what we want, the choices we make, and the lives we live – is determined by what we believe. And those beliefs have a tendency to invade every aspect of our lives. For example, here in Utah, the majority of people are Republican…why? Because the majority of people in Utah believe more strongly about gay marriage, abortion, and other social issues than anything else, including domestic, foreign, and economic policies. Because of that, for years the people of Utah had a tendency to deem all the decisions of the Republican party as more righteous and holy than any idea from the Democratic party (an attitude that does seem to be shifting in recent years).

What we believe determines everything about our lives, and what’s more, everyone wants what they believe to be right, correct, and/or true. Even those who say “live and let live,” or that “everyone can believe what they want” are guilty of this…if you believe that everyone has a right to their own opinion, guess what? The belief in that right or in the philosophy of “live and let live” is what you want to be true!

So if what we believe to be true defines who we are as people, is it any wonder we so fiercely defend those principles? We’re not just fighting for a cause when we speak up…we’re fighting for our lives! So, obviously, one of the hardest confessions we can make is to admit we might be wrong: we put our entire identity on the line when we do that.

But as John Donne said, “No man is an island.” As much as you may want to cling to your own beliefs and values, guess what? So does the other guy. His identity is as important to him as yours is to you. And when we invalidate others’ beliefs and opinions by establishing ours as more correct and true, we’re not just invalidating their beliefs…we’re invalidating their humanity, because we’re invalidating their human abilities to think, reason, value, and believe. We start to see people as less than people, simply because they have as tenacious of a grip on their beliefs as we may have on ours. If you want to know what the ultimate consequences are of invalidating the humanity of others, look no further than the Third Reich of Germany.

So, again, I invite you to take a second and ask yourself the question: “What if I’m wrong?” You don’t have to renounce your beliefs, your politics, your religion: I think merely considering this question every now and then reminds us that despite how passionately we may believe we are right, almost everyone else believes just as passionately that they are right. And is anyone’s passion any more valid than anyone else’s? As a wise man once said, “Are we not all beggars?”  Maybe, just maybe, if we can start to appreciate the validity of everyone’s ideas and beliefs, we can find a way to fix the world together.

Of course, maybe I’m wrong.

– Blake L.

Twang

It’s time for me to embrace my roots. While I may be a recent English college graduate who enjoys reading literature, writing non-fiction, going to the theater (symphony, dance performances, poetry readings, etc,), and a myriad of other artsy or cultural activities, I still am and always will be from a small farming community in Northern Utah. That community may not have too many farms anymore, but you can still see the influence of the rural and agricultural there. Growing up, I had several youthful experiences with farmers, ranchers, rodeos, truck pulls, county fairs, and, of course, country music. And yes, somewhere deep in my heart there is still a place for the steel guitar and fiddle, and today I’ll be giving a tip of the cowboy hat I never have and never will own to that down-home genre of music.

Granted, current country music makes me want to vomit every time I hear it; only a few special exceptions are anywhere close to bearable. The problem with most country music today is that it’s attempting to do one of two things:

A. replicate Shania Twain’s inexplicable and probably unrepeatable crossover from country to mainstream. As far as I know, no one’s even come close, with the possible exceptions of Taylor Swift and Lady Antebellum. Still, neither of them hold the record for the highest selling album of any genre in their sales category (for Shania, that would be solo female artist).

B. reject the crossover from country to mainstream by clinging to their roots like a Tea Party member to the Constitution. Problem is, like the Tea Party, they cling to those roots by being as loud and obnoxious about it as they can, resulting in an endless barrage of music about why their hometown is the best place ever, why their country is the best place ever, or why their truck/bar/red solo cup is the best thing ever. Even if they’re talking about something like love or romance (which seems to be the main subject of the genre, even when it is decent) they have to throw in figurative language that hearkens back to those subjects I just mentioned. For instance, the current number 2 on the Billboard country list is called “Drunk on You” from Luke Bryan’s album “Tailgates and Tanlines.” I rest my case.

However, I like to think that once upon a time country music was slightly better. Perhaps nostalgia clouds my vision of the music that blared through my house and my parents’ car as a child, but I’d like to think that there was once a certain quality to the genre that has since been lost in pursuit of the two aforementioned aims.

But I’m going to let all of you readers (the six of you) be the judge. I have racked my brains and the vaults of memory to come up with five country songs that I believe represent a time when the genre had some dignity, some nuance, and some quality. A quick word about how I picked these songs. First, they were all released in my lifetime, so you won’t be seeing the classic artists like Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline, or George Jones (yes, I know Johnny Cash kept making music until he died in 2003, but he had well left mainstream country by the late ’80s). Also, when picking these songs I tried to consider both aspects of a song: the music and lyrics. Because while many say that the lyrics are somewhat inconsequential to music when evaluating it, I believe lyrics to be vital in considering country; many songs of the genre are ballads or story songs, recalling the folk and bluegrass music that gave birth to country. Also, in including music videos of these songs, I purposely avoided using the “official” music video as I didn’t want the produced videos to taint your opinion. Some of the original music videos are sooooo over the top.

By the way, don’t watch these lyrics videos either unless you really want to know the lyrics…they’re also a bit much at times.

With that in mind, I present for your consideration five examples of what I believe to be good if not excellent country music (in no particular order).

Reba McEntire – “Fancy”

While re-listening to “Fancy” in preparation for this post, I was struck by the fact that I would not at all be surprised if Adele covered this song – the bluesy riffs, the soulful vocals, and the message of female empowerment all sound like what the radio has played nonstop for the past year from the latest Grammy queen. Speaking of queens, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more popular female country artist of the 80s and 90s than Ms. McEntire. Her career includes at least 22 Billboard country chart-toppers (as well as a few appearances on the Hot 100), numerous awards (including Grammys), and a span of over 30 years (her first singles were recorded in 1976). I picked the song because of its unique nature, both the musical style that with a little stripping down of the production value could show up at a blues club somewhere, and the lyrics that deal with fairly heavy ideas of poverty, desperation, and, of course, prostitution. Presumably the artist herself is aware of the song’s quality, as she ends all of her live performances by donning a red dress and sending off the audience with “Fancy.”

PLEASE don’t watch this next music video unless you want a good laugh. Even then, wait until you’ve already heard the song once so you’re not tainted. I’ll explain why I had to use it.

Garth Brooks – “The Dance”

To give you an idea of how popular this song is, search for it on YouTube and try to find a version that isn’t a cover…the only one I could find was this horrendous mess. I apologize if you actually watched the bizarre mash-up of a country song with Phantom of the Opera, The Last Unicorn and Barbara’ Streisand’s The Prince of Tides (okay, now I’ve practically dared you). Regardless, this song is probably Brooks’s all-time greatest hit and his self-admitted favorite. The song, released on his debut album, was his second number one on the country charts and broke the Top 40 on the UK pop charts. In fact, Brooks was probably the first country artist in my lifetime to tout the line between country and mainstream, though I don’t think pop music aficionados could get over the too-tight Wranglers, ten-gallon hat, and rivet-button shirts. Though Brooks was mostly known for his high-energy antics in his live performances (his was once described as the “Steve Tyler of country music”), “The Dance” shows his vocal talent in a much more subtle manner. I doubt there are many children of the 80s who haven’t heard the song at least once in their life.

If there was ever a Holy Trinity in country music, then it consisted of Reba McEntire, Garth Brooks, and this third artist:

George Strait – “Last in Love”

Apparently within the country music industry, Mr. Strait is known as “King George.” He’s often thanked by many male artists (including Garth Brooks) as being the inspiration for their own careers, and at 26 albums in his over 30 year career (five of which have been number 1 on the Billboard 200) he is perhaps the iconic country music artist of the past few decades. What I’ve always admired about George Strait (and trust me, I’ve had a chance to admire him as my mom literally owns every album he has ever released) is his refusal to alter his sound to reflect what the popular style of country may be. This particular song is not too well-known, most likely because the other songs from the Pure Country soundtrack overshadowed it drastically, but for me it features some of the best lyrics of any of his songs and shows off Strait’s vocal range. As evidenced by my mom and grandma’s obsession, Strait is the epitome of a country crooner…the Frank Sinatra of country music, if you will.

Alison Krauss –  “When You Say Nothing At All”

If at any point after 1995 and before 2000 you went to a small town fair somewhere in the West or Midwest, chances are you heard a teenage girl singing this song in the talent competition. Or perhaps you heard it at fifteen different weddings during the mid to late ’90s. Originally performed by ’70s-’80s country star Keith Whitley, most people only know the song as performed by bluegrass icon Kraus, who recorded the song as part of a tribute album for Whitley. While the lyrics at times have their eye-rolling moments – “Old Mr. Webster could never define / what’s being said between your heart and mine” – there’s an enduring quality to the song that I largely attribute to Kraus’s performance. In a genre that’s dominated by songs about heartache and nasty break-ups, I can appreciate an earnest but honest number where love is a good thing that makes people happy.

Brooks and Dunn: Neon Moon

I had to include something not sung by a solo artist, and there’s no better candidate for the most popular music group in country music than Brooks and Dunn (Okay, technically they’re a duo). Plus, as much as I can’t stand most country songs about bars and honky-tonks, I had to include at least one since the sub-genre of the bar ballad is a long-standing staple in country music. Like most of the other artists I picked, Brooks and Dunn are two of the most celebrated and awarded artists in country music. While they’re best known for the line-dance-craze-inspiring “Boot-Scootin’ Boogie,” (yes, I know a line dance to it) this song highlights Ronnie Dunn’s vocal talent, the pair’s songwriting chops (unlike most country artists, they wrote most of their own music), and enough internal rhyming to make the lines (especially the single sentence chorus) somewhat addicting.

I want to mention a few of the songs I considered real quick. First, LeAnn Rimes’s “Blue,” simply because I wanted something to acknowledge all the classic artists of country like Patsy Cline and Johnny Cash. Plus, she recorded this debut number at 13 years old and sounds amazing for her age,  but I liked the others I picked more. One of my favorite songs of all time is “Picture,” a duet by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow that is apparently classified as country. Though I love it, I’ve never considered it country, hence it didn’t make the cut. Finally, I was going to throw in “Grandpa” by The Judds, but first of all, it was released before I was born, and I recognized that my judgement on that one is corrupted by nostalgia. The conversation in that song is one that I never had as both of my grandpas had passed away by the time I was three, so there’s a yearning there.

So there you have it – my sort-of defense of country music. I realize there will always be a certain amount of disconnect for some people when it comes to country music, but I think here and there in the mess of it you can find something worthwhile. Maybe it won’t end up on your iPod, but at the very least you can acknowledge that it isn’t all that bad.

– Blake

Her Title Isn’t “Mistress of All-Evil” For Nothing

Back in 2010, talk began to circulate of a live-action rendition of “Sleeping Beauty.” Initial conversations hinted at Tim Burton as director, with Angelina Jolie slated to star as the sorceress Maleficent. Since then, Tim Burton either never was involved or has been replaced with newbie director Robert Stromberg (up to this point he’s only worked on visual effects for a lot of films). However, Jolie is still attached to the project, which according to the Internet news world began filming last week in England. Yesterday, many of my Facebook friends posted the first official photo of Jolie in the role:

Today, another photo was added…

To be perfectly honest, I’m slightly concerned about this project. While I think Angie is a great choice for the villainess, I’m a little worried about the direction the story is taking:

“‘Maleficent’ tells the story of the the Mistress of Evil, the villain from ‘Sleeping Beauty.’ Disney promises the movie will reveal ‘events that hardened her heart and drove her to curse the baby, Aurora.'”

Umm…Wicked, anyone? Of course it’s no accident that this film is slated for 2014, the same year that the Wicked film adaptation is holding as its release date. And while I love the concept of re-imagining fairy tales and giving a fresh spin on them, I’m not so sure I really want to empathize with Maleficent and reassign her description from “evil” to “misunderstood.” Why?

Well, let’s back up a bit first. A while ago, I wrote a post decrying one of my biggest problems with Disney: their inability at times to move beyond the juvenile. Some were not happy with my denouncement of their precious childhood memories, so here I will attempt to make amends. While I do think that Disney can’t get over their own image sometimes, one element of their animated films that dares to go into the dark and does quite well at it is, obviously, their villains. Nearly always, the most interesting or entertaining character of their films is the villain (or antagonist if you prefer a more prosaic term). Usually they have far more complex backgrounds, which leads to more engaging and plausible motives, and, quite often, they are the most proactive characters and set into motion the events of the plot. For instance, with two of my personal favorites, Ursula the Sea-Witch used to be part of Triton’s palace but was banished (presumably because of her dabbling in magic) and now seeks revenge on Triton through her daughter (ironic how the title character of the film is kind of a MacGuffin). The whole motion of the story is set into place because she initially targets Ariel as the potential source of her vengeance. Likewise Scar has a very similar background, though he’s suffering a case of sibling rivalry and not scorn-over-banishment. Again, The Lion King does not become a story until Scar plans to murder Simba and Mufasa. Such is also the case with my favorite of the Disney villains…yes, Maleficent.

Before we get to her, though, why is it that villains captivate us so much? I know I’m not the only person who feels this way about villains – there’s an entire line of Disney merchandise dedicated to them, and every year around Halloween Disneyland (and I assume Disney World) transforms the park  to give a bit of room for these love-to-hate characters. The last major fairy-tale film adaptations gave the starring roles not to the Snow Whites, but to the evil queens (similar to the title casting of Glenn Close as Cruella DeVil). So what is it about these evil-doers? Well, as my professor Kyle Bishop would say, it’s all about catharsis. Often, we are drawn to certain kinds of art and entertainment in order to experience and process what is difficult to experience and process in real life. No one would deny that people have committed, are committing, and will commit horrific and unspeakable crimes against humanity. Open any history book and you can find countless examples. Often times, those crimes are either too close to our own conscious or too far away, both distances making it difficult for us to grasp the nature of these acts: either we’re too affected by it to maintain a clear perspective, or we’re not personally affected by it at all, leaving us without any perspective. So we turn to art to experience those parts of the human experience that we either do not understand at all or understand too well, thus necessitating a “safe” place like art to process them.

Now, this cathartic element of art is probably one reason why we need stories like Wicked; often we too quickly dismiss someone with a different attitude or perspective as “evil” or “wicked.” Re-tellings like that of Elphaba’s are important for us, as they humanize what we want to dehumanize, give voice to what we want silenced, and remind us that even people as terrible as Adolf Hitler or Osama Bin Laden were still people. As important as recognizing this is, however, I still think there needs to be a place in art to experience terror and horror that defies explanation, that has no rhyme or reason, no method to the madness, because terror and horror like that does exist and does happen.

It’s not like I can’t see why filmmakers are taking the apologist route with Maleficent. Granted, as presented in Sleeping Beauty, she does leave a lot of unanswered questions: who is she? where did she come from? how did she gain her powers? and (most intriguing) why would she curse a newborn to die at the age of sixteen simply because she wasn’t invited to the baby shower? However, I think leaving these questions unanswered creates that inexplicable terror we need to experience. What you can’t rationally explain and reason is far more frightening than what is explained away, if only because creating an explanation kills the infinite number of terrifying possibilities we as an audience can imagine; the unfettered and undefined human imagination will fill in the unknown with a terror no explanation could ever match.

Think about it: let’s say for a moment that Maleficent had no other reason to curse Aurora other than the apparent reason: being uninvited. That sends this kind of message: don’t cross with this (b)witch in the slightest, because even forgetting to invite her to a party could unleash her fury. As if that weren’t enough, not only does she curse Aurora to die, but to die in such a bizarre manner. How would you like it if your child’s death certificate read “cause of death: spinning wheel spindle?” Moreover, this strange method of murder ups the ante on Maleficent’s danger: if she can kill you with a spinning wheel, what can’t she do? Particularly when you consider that she apparently can call upon “all the powers of hell.” That’s something out of a horror film, not a kids movie, which is maybe why the character has been so fascinating for so long.

Trying to explain Maleficent, I think, will only cheapen her presence in our conscious as a representation of inexplicable and unrestrained evil. That cool and collected facade with sheer madness and diabolical rage brimming just beneath can only remain that way if her character remains a mystery. Speaking of that facade and the rage it covers, here’s a collection of her scenes from Sleeping Beauty, which I think help to make my point. On a related note, Eleanor Audley’s voice performance is perhaps one of the best Disney has ever had.

– Blake

Assemble!

Before I go any further with this post, I need to make something clear: I really liked The Avengers. I like it more than any other superhero movie I have ever seen, aside from the Nolan Batman series. Now I realize that some are out there who not only like this film, they love it. They worship it, they adore it, they’ve spent enough cash to see it six times. To those people, in this post I will be pointing out why The Avengers  is not a perfect film; I will be pointing out what I feel to be some of it’s flaws. I ask you to please not hurt me…again, I do like The Avengers – so much that I shelled out enough to see it twice.

But let’s start out talking about the money, shall we? The Avengers has now been in theaters a little over a month, and while the tickets sales have finally slowed down, as of Thursday, June 14th it is still in the top five at the box office and is the third highest grossing film of all time, both domestically and worldwide, being edged out only by Jimmy Cameron’s behemoths Titanic and Avatar. If the rumors are true about a late-summer director’s cut re-release that adds 40 extra minutes, then it is entirely possible that The Avengers  may become the financial zenith of the superhero genre, which is quite remarkable given the relatively young age of the revisioning of superhero movies that seemed to begin with the first X-Men film back in 2000.

So what gives? While I uphold very little of Ayn Rand’s objectivism theory, I do agree with this small piece: the value anything has to the human race is measured by the money given to it, i.e. monetary value is equivalent to value in general. Clearly the people of both the United States and the world in general place a great amount of value in The Avengers, and being intrigued with pop culture as I am, I have to ask myself why. Why has this film captured our attention and interest to the point that we award it so much of our time and resources? As I often ask (and the url to this blog asks), what does that say about us? Here’s my theory:

First on a superficial level and working deeper, The Avengers  succeeds to appeal because of an incredible script and remarkable directing. Consider for a moment if a film producer gave you the following task: take the characters from five separate films, not one of which you contributed to as director or writer, and create a continuation story for all five of them that is coherent, entertaining, and original. That’s exactly what Joss Whedon accomplished, and I think that monumental feat is step one to understanding the draw of The Avengers: simple statistics. There are many Iron Man fans out there, many Captain America fans, Thor fans, Hulk fans, etc. And while in many cases an overlap exists, such is not always the case (for example, my parents loved Iron Man and Captain America, but could never get excited about Thor or Hulk). With a movie like this, everyone can be pleased…if the script gives each fan what they want. This element of the script is perhaps Whedon’s gold star on his homework: not once in the film, for myself or anyone I’ve talked to, does the script feel like it’s giving unbalanced time and/or attention to any one of the principal characters. Each one has a nicely fleshed out character, conflict, and arc.

In the script, however, is where one of the flaws becomes apparent. Now there are plenty of films out there that have had excellent stories but atrocious scripts (cough, Titanic, Avatar, the Star Wars franchise cough), but here is a film that has an unparalleled script but kind of a weak story. While the dialogue between the characters and the actual events in the script are superb, the overall story they tell is a little flat, with undramatic stakes and little tension. Did you ever doubt for a second how it was going to end? I mean, sure, since it was Joss Whedon we were all paranoid someone major was going to die, but other than that, I don’t think anyone couldn’t have guessed where the story was going. Plus, the story had what appeared to be plot holes (though I’m sure someone will bend my ear about how it makes sense if you know the stories from the comic books, yadda, yadda, yadda), such as the Hulk’s inexplicable transformation from uncontrollable rage machine that destroys anything and everything to a tank that can direct his rage and perform benevolent acts like saving a plummeting Iron Man. Another is the fact that not only did Loki not run away while Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor were having their little spat in the woods, no one stopped to question if it might possibly be part of his plan when he didn’t.

The film didn’t rely too much on techncial wizardy either; now while I’m calling that a flaw, I applaud that flaw as a good thing. Luckily, since Avatar, it seems audiences are less and less interested in a director wowing them with their technical magic. And until James Cameron throws his billions into another project that takes fifteen years, I think it’s safe to assume nothing’s going to top it any time soon either. This inevitability means that directors have to stop relying on explosions and start relying on other elements of film-making to impress audiences (a lesson Michael Bay still can’t seem to grasp).

So what does The Avengers  rely on? I’ve talked about it before, but we’re coming back to it because it forms the crux of my argument: the characters. In Whedon’s entire career, writing engaging characters that audiences actually care about has always been his forte…be it Buffy Summers, Dr. Horrible, or Woody. In this case, not only did he create characters that audiences care about, but he tapped into the climate of our social conscious and wrote a parable-like story with characters that mirror attitudes and perceptions in the U.S. society. I will do my best to give examples of this, but please keep in mind that I’ve only seen the film twice and was not taking notes during either screening.

First, there’s Tony Stark, the “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” That description is exactly the type of person that Stark represents, thankfully not in a simplistic or villainous way. Because while the film (like others) could have taken the easy way out and made the rich guy the bad guy as well, Whedon shifted that paradigm by presenting one of the richest men in the world as one who is concerned about not just saving the world, but other issues like the energy crisis (remember the self-sustaining energy source?), Middle Eastern conflict, and promoting peace by protesting the creation of weapons. In other words, in the throes of the Occupy movement and governmental unrest, we all hope that rich men like this truly exist in the world, who actually engage themselves in social issues and try to do something about them with the resources they have.

Second is Steve Rogers. All-American Boy Next Door with a “ma’am” or “sir” on his lips and a nostalgic patriotism in his heart. It’s no accident that Captain America is the oldest of the bunch, being at least eighty if you count the years he missed, because his is the character that appeals to traditional ideals that elderly men on their rocking chairs complain have disappeared from the country. His traditionalism extends to religion, remarking at one point that there’s only one God, and tactical strategy, suggesting to Stark that they need a plan of attack. Moreover, Rogers abilities are literally a “product” of his country. Hence in his character we find the old-fashioned and idealistic patriotism that as a country we always seem to have in moments of crisis. Perhaps that’s why it’s appropriate that Captain America is the leader of the Avengers, because as Agent Coulson states, “people might just need a little old fashioned.”

Third is Thor. While he cares for his favorite planet, Earth, it’s clear that he has many other things on his mind, to the point that the concerns and interests of others mean nothing to him. In the Facebook post that prefaced this blog post, I compared Thor to fanatical religious types. However, upon further consideration, I’ve decided that Thor is a better fit for all types of fanatics: passionate and dedicated to their cause, but liable to become short-sighted or apathetic toward anything that doesn’t fit in that cause. So take your pick: environmentalists, the ACLU, gun rights activists, gay rights supporters (and detractors), Tea Party members, religionists, et cetera, et cetera. The message is not that fanaticism is bad, merely that it needs a small dose of perspective and appropriate direction.

Then there’s Dr. Bruce Banner (First of all, my wholehearted support and approval goes to Whedon simply for making the Hulk cool at last). Here we have the scientific, academic type…the Frankenstein if you will: determined to alter mankind’s understanding of the world, to push the limits of the known and possible, and ends up paying an awful price for his ambition. Moreover, he’s quite reluctant to share his knowledge with the rest of the world, worried both of the consequences that it could have and that no one would ever truly understand. Such is a similar plight of those who wrestle with the big ideas of the universe, whether it be in science, technology, politics, or philosophy. The Hulk also manages to give voice to any type of person with some sort of demon in their closet…all those who have an “other guy.”

Natasha Romanov is to foreign aid what Tony Stark is to the upper class. While U.S. relations with Russia have been shaky at best for the better part of the last 70 years, Black Widow suggests that our foreign relations don’t necessarily have to be dead in the water (That’s all I have for her and I really don’t have anything for Hawkeye because, again, two screenings and no notes).

The chemical reaction in this film of putting all of these different identities together is that they get over their differences and personal aims and learn to work together for a common goal. By the climax, each of the characters become what we hope who they represent will become: from the upper-echelon Tony Stark to the fanatical Thor to the foreign Natasha.

So what does this tell me about the current pop culture climate? Well, first, we find ourselves in a state of crisis, and like any good Bonnie Tyler power ballad, we’re all holding out for a hero (fun mash-up idea for all you creative types). The Lokis of our world – poverty, war, crooked governments, or terrorism – have us all feeling pretty helpless on our own. In The Avengers we find our best-case scenario: that the powerful of the world get over their own personal agendas and egos and work together to fix the world’s problems. Most superhero movies (particularly those produced by Marvel) have this kind of vibe to a certain degree, but in The Avengers  the effect is conglomerated: some want to see a energy-crisis conscious billionaire; some want to see supportive foreign relations; and some want to see a fanatic play well with others. Just like the different superheroes appeal to different people, so do the ideals they represent and there’s something for everyone. So why is the film so popular? Because it is the hopeful and positive “what-if” we all want to believe in.

By contrast, it appears Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises is going to take a somewhat different approach…

-Blake

The One Where Blake Gets Sentimental

Two apologies need to preface this post. First, it’s been a really long time since I’ve posted here. That’s mostly because I wanted my first post after college graduation to be this one, and since a rather extensive project was attached, the process took a lot longer than I expected (a month as opposed to a week or two). Really, that apology is more to myself than anyone as I’m sure few people honestly noticed.

The second apology is to those who find schmaltz and sentiment overbearing. Usually I try to keep my sentimental feelings to myself because I know how nauseating it can be. However, you’ll have to forgive me for this instance, and I promise that most future posts will keep the “awww” moments to a minimum. That being said, I knew I couldn’t end my college experience without giving a bit of a send-off…so for all my Cedar peeps, this one’s for you.

On Southern Utah University’s campus, a spot exists that few travel by on their day to day basis. Way back in late August of 2006, a group of college freshman sat in this particular spot in the small hours of the morning, on the stones around what they would affectionately call for years to come “the pagan statue.”

Among that group of clueless college freshman was an eighteen-year-old from a tiny northern Utah town who only days before had suffered a small emotional breakdown at the thought of being on his own for the first time in his life. See, this young man, despite what his carefully constructed outward appearance suggested, was often extremely insecure about himself and his ability to accomplish anything. Up until that night at the pagan statue, he had been in an almost perpetual state of anxiety and fear about this new experience in his life called college.

The group on those rocks sat and talked for hours about their lives, their backgrounds, their beliefs, why they were in school, and  their own worries and fears. And somewhere in the midst of all the soul-bearing, that young man thought for the first time, Hey, I think I can do this college thing. In fact, I think I may even enjoy this college thing.

And enjoy it, I did. My four years at Southern Utah University were some of the best times I have had in my entire life. And not for a second do I hesitate in answering what made that time so awesome: every person who I ever considered a friend, colleague, or even just an acquaintance. They are the people who define every fond memory I have from Cedar City, and they are the reason it was all worth it. Because none of the hours spent studying in the library, stressing about my checking balance, or even relaxing on a Saturday morning would have meant a damn if I couldn’t share them with anyone. My degree would mean nothing to me if it was not a tangible reminder of every single person who, in some way or another, led me to the day when I received it.

To those incredible people (you know who you are), I express my deepest gratitude and esteem. I am not the same person I was that surprisingly chilly August night on the rocks of the pagan statue – what a blessing that is. And I have every one of you to thank for that because the person I am now is simply a result of the individual marks you each left on my life.  The day I left Cedar, I sobbed like a three-year-old as I turned onto I-15 and started northward, more than anything because I did not want to leave behind the unparalleled friendships and relationships I had. So again, I thank you all for being such a meaningful and indispensable part of my life. I know it’s cliche, but I will never forget any of you.

Now, as sort of a parting gift, I put together a little montage of some of my favorite people and experiences from my college days. Of course, the small time I had did not allow me to use all the photos I wanted, and there’s no way I could find room for every person who meant something to me at SUU. Whether you find yourself in here or not, the feeling is the same for everyone and the statement at the end is for everyone as well.

One last apology: some of the photos in here were not of the best quality. The few that aren’t the best are included simply because I really wanted to include that moment. Also, I only had access to Windows Movie Maker as opposed to Final Cut or Vegas, so bear with the amateur editing.

Click on this: 4 Years in 3.5 Minutes 

“So if you’re too school for cool and you’re treated like a fool, you can choose to let it go; we can always party on our own.”

-Blake