Last night, I participated in a "Monologue Mixer," in which ten actors from the local community theaters each did a monologue or soliloquy. The material ranged from a couple of Shakespeare soliloquies to Sam Shepard to The Vagina Monologues. My choice was from the play Inherit the Wind, by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee.
What I've included below is not my performance from last night, but the "audition tape" I sent in to be chosen for the cast.
OK, I'm caught up through episode 4 and at least they're trying to explain what's going on. That's better--but this is still, IMO, a seriously flawed series.
Let's start with the basic concept (SPOILER ALERT!)--Wanda is doing all this in an attempt to deal with her despair at the loss of both her brother and her lover, creating a perfect fantasy life. Sure; but why does a woman in her 20s, raised in Eastern Europe, base her image of perfect married life on the American sitcoms of the 1950s-70s, that I assume--given her background--she never saw until she came to the United States as an adult? Further, why didn't she just pick one, instead of advancing from the 1950s to the '70s? (Of course, the answer to that, from outside the world of the series, is that the writers and producers wanted to hit as many iconic shows as they could.) And, if she continues, what will she emulate when she gets to the 1980s? Family Ties? Married with Children?
Now let's get to the real problem--it's taken four half-hour episodes (the time equivalent of a full-length movie) to reach the point where the story is explained to the audience. Tell me, would you sit through a movie or a stage production that took that much time to make sense? I wouldn't. I'm all for a mystery...but at some point, at least the bare outlines of the story have to be made clear so the final resolution of the mystery is understandable.
I'll keep watching--but probably two episodes at a time--in the hope the pace picks up.
What makes a hero? Specifically, what makes a superhero? Extraordinary abilities, obviously...but some superheroes--notably Batman and Robin--have no superpowers; their extraordinariness comes from training and study.
But I think there has to be something more than that. I have always been drawn to the characters who would have been heroic before they gained superpowers or put on a tight-fitting suit. Prime example is the original version of the 1960s Green Lantern: Hal Jordan. Jordan was a test pilot before he met the alien who handed him a glowing lantern and a ring. If you read the accounts of his past as they were revealed, he was to all extents the DC Universe equivalent of Neil Armstrong. Had that fateful meeting not put him on a different path, he might well have been one of his world's Mercury astronauts. He was already a hero.
Similarly, because of the way he was raised by his foster parents, Clark Kent might have been a hero even if his alien origins didn't give him superpowers. In some ways, even when he wasn't flying around dressed in red-and-blue, he was: Reporters take risks, put themselves in danger as part of their jobs. Clark was dedicated to helping his neighbors--he didn't need a cape to do it.
I don't feel the same way about Batman, at least not as he is characterized today. In the 1950s and '60s, I did. In those days, Bruce Wayne, having exorcised his own demons, set about to protect everyone else. Today, it seems as if he is still all-consumed by those demons, viewing the world as bleak and corrupt, barely worth saving, except as doing so eases his own soul. That seems incredibly narcissistic to me.
I'll always prefer the hero who can smile when his job is well done.
I know there was a time when I loved winter. I have clear memories of sledding well into my teens. I remember snowball fights and trudging through drifts and not minding a bit.
Even as I reached my early adult years, I can't say I hated winter in general. Sure, by the time I was commuting to work, even a minor snowstorm was a pain in the ass and a major one--say a foot or more of snow--was just impossible to deal with. But just cold weather? Not a problem.
Now, though, as I approach my 69th birthday, I find myself really dreading the winter. We're only about halfway through it (if you figure it starts at the end of November and ends at the end of March), and I've already had enough---and this hasn't even been a bad winter so far. We've only had one measurable snowfall and temps through most of January were above normal.
A larger part of it may be the diminished daylight. It's still dark at 7 in the morning, and dark again at 5 in the afternoon. Yes, that will get gradually better over the next month, so that by March daylight will be at least an hour longer, but I still find it depressing to spend a third of my waking hours in the dark.
Maybe I need to move to the tropics?
The Senate shall have the sole Power to try all Impeachments. When sitting for that Purpose, they shall be on Oath or Affirmation. When the President of the United States is tried the Chief Justice shall preside: And no Person shall be convicted without the Concurrence of two thirds of the Members present.
Judgment in Cases of Impeachment shall not extend further than to removal from Office, and disqualification to hold and enjoy any Office of honor, Trust or Profit under the United States: but the Party convicted shall nevertheless be liable and subject to Indictment, Trial, Judgment and Punishment, according to Law. [emphasis added]
The above is the entire text of the clause in Article I of the U.S. Constitution that sets out the role of the Senate in an impeachment trial. I bold-faced that one phrase because it is important in the context of the current trial of Donald Trump. There is nothing in the text that even suggests, let alone days outright, that an officer cannot be impeached and tried after leaving office...and it is clear that if he or she has left office, the punishment of disqualification remains available in the event of conviction.
Why is it important that this be true? Let's take it out of the context of a president, and make it another impeachable officer--say, Secretary of the Treasury. Our hypothetical Secretary Badguy is charged with actually embezzling from the U.S. Treasury. The evidence is clear, and the House votes for impeachment. But before the trial can begin, Mr. Badguy sees the handwriting on the wall and resigns. Is there now to be no recourse for the Congress? "Sorry, he's out of office, no point in trying him now." That would leave him unpunished and still eligible to be appointed, or worse, elected to another position in the future.
So, yes, it must be Constitutional to try an officeholder whose term has expired or who had resigned.
Clearly the plan to get the COVID vaccines out to the public is, so far--in the words of my kids--an epic fail. The issue now is how to fix it, and to do that, we need to know where the problem really is.
My first impulse is to put the blame squarely on the Trump Administration. I suspect, just as it was for the entire four years, they talked a good game but couldn't really play. They were really good at marketing--"Operation Warp Speed," anyone?--but really terrible at actually implementing their cleverly named plans....or at actually having a plan to go with the name. Too often--and this is one of those times, I think--the plan was "Here, we're going to give you all this stuff...now, you figure out how to distribute it and pay for the distribution." It's a way to avoid responsibility.
Second, I have to think that Pfizer and Moderna share some blame as well. Clearly they were not able to ramp up production as quickly as they promised. Now, that may not be entirely their fault; it may be that important ingredients in the manufacturing process are supplied by third parties and those ingredients are the bottleneck--whether because the suppliers are not able to meet demand or because they are coming from overseas and the pandemic itself is causing disruptions to the supply chain.
Third, the state and local governments have to take some responsibility as well. The experience with the PPE supply chain in the spring should have warned them that the federal government, at least under the Trump administration, could not be relied upon to meet its commitments...and that they would need to be prepared to deal with that incompetence. In some cases, it seems the state and local authorities just threw up their hands and said, "We don't have a plan--it's a free-for-all, first-come, first-served, line up and take your chances...." (Florida seems to be the prime example of that.)
It is, of course, too soon to put any blame on the Biden administration; they haven't even been in charge for a week yet. That hasn't stopped some on the right-wing and GOP side of things from pointing fingers: "You said you'd be better at this, why hasn't it improved yet?"
Will it improve? I certainly hope so.
The new stove was successfully delivered, installed, and tested this morning.
The old stove on the top, new one on the bottom:
In my experience, whenever any group of mixed gender gathers for any length of time, one person--usually female--will emerge as the social leader: the organizer of parties, the consoler in times of trouble, the one the others look to for guidance. I have seen this phenomenon in science-fiction circles and in theater casts. I call this person the "den mother".
That is Doctor Number 13's role--"den mother". It is signified by her decision to call her traveling companions a family. And I think it is one of the reasons some fans dislike her characterization....it is distinctly female.
I think that some fans, when they heard the new Doctor would be played by a woman, expected someone who would portray this new incarnation as simply "a guy in a dress". She would have all the typical masculine traits of her predecessors....but Jodie Whittaker (and the writers) chose a different path. Number 13 is female all the way through...affectionate (given to hugs), maternal, sharing--even sharing decision-making. This has been the most democratic of all TARDIS teams; Number 13 is not given to barking orders to her family.
And she is at the same time dependable...and dependent. Imprisoned, she knows her family will rescue her, even as she knows she has to stay strong because they depend on her. I saw complaints on line that this was not "heroic"....that a true hero would have rescued herself. (I guess they never saw the Errol Flynn Robin Hood, in which Robin is saved from the gallows by Maid Marian's plan, not his own.)
I applaud Whittaker, Chibnall et al for taking this controversial direction.
Some thoughts on each of the first 12 Doctors, leading up to a separate post about Number 13, Jodie Whitaker.
1. William Hartnell: The "grumpy grandfather," always finding his traveling companions lacking (even his own granddaughter), but not without affection for them.
2. Patrick Troughton: The "jolly grandfather," always good for a laugh, but ready to defend his companions to the death.
3. Jon Pertwee: The "daring uncle," full of tales about his adventurous past and taking his companions on equally exciting trips.
4. Tom Baker: The "madcap uncle," incredibly intelligent and incredibly wild, you're never sure if he's being brilliant or just crazy.
5. Peter Davison: The "big brother," just a bit older and wiser than his companions, but protective of them.
6. Colin Baker: The "critical uncle," his disagreements with his companions never seem to come from any sense of affection.
7. Sylvester McCoy: The "screwball uncle," not as physically wild as Number 4, but more given to absurdities as part of his plan.
8. Paul McGann: The "heartthrob," Lord Byron in an alien's body with a time machine.
9. Christopher Eccleston: The "reformed bad boy," ready to drag you into something you really aren't ready for.
10. David Tennant: The Doctor as "Mr. Darcy," the brooding, handsome guy every girl falls for...but who deliberately keeps them all distant.
11. Matt Smith: The "daft best friend," the one guy in every circle of chums who maintains a platonic relationship with all the girls--except for the one who he can never quite keep hold of.
12. Peter Capaldi: The "cranky neighbor," always on the verge of saying "Stay off my lawn," but in reality the neighborhood watchman, keeping an eye out for the dangers you don't know are lurking.
Next time, a more extensive look at Number 13, Jodie Whitaker and why she's so disliked by one very vocal segment of fans (and no, it's not entirely just because she's female).
Let's get off politics for a while (at least a day).
Tonight completes Ken Jennings' two-week "try-out" as host of Jeopardy. Overall, I think he's done a good job. He's somewhat chattier than Alex Trebek and he certainly doesn't have the professional polish that Trebek brought to the position, but he keeps the show moving, and he hasn't made any egregious missteps that I've seen. I'd be happy to see him chosen as the permanent host.
Reportedly, for the next two weeks, the show's executive producer, Mike Richards, will step in as the more famous "guest hosts" gear up for their 10-day auditions. Apparently, the first of those will be Katie Couric, followed by former quarterback Aaron Rogers, Bill Whitaker of 60 Minutes, and Mayim Bialik, late of The Big Bang Theory and now starring in Call Me Kat on Fox.
And those four may not be the last of the try-outs. It looks like we might go through the rest of the season--which ends in June, I think, before a permanent new host is announced.
Where will we be a year from now?
I believe in one year we will be about two months from having celebrated a normal Thanksgiving, one month from celebrating a normal Christmas, and a few weeks from celebrating a normal New Year's. We will be anticipating a normal Easter and Passover season.
But our entertainment will still be different. Most live entertainment will still be just gearing up to restart; the few venues and productions that managed to open in the closing months of 2021 will be struggling to attract an audience that remains wary of gathering in closed spaces. Movie theaters--those that manage to re-open--will be short of material to show and remain so probably until the spring.
Our politics will be different and yet the same. Governing by legislation (rather than executive order) will have made a return, thanks to a Senate that does not operate as a dam to all bills coming from the House...but there will still be Republican opposition to a lot of what the Biden administration wants to do and the filibuster will let them block some of it (but not all--they will no longer want to be seen as the party of "no").
The extreme right-wing will still be with us...but much diminished by criminal trials and convictions, as well as general public recrimination. The fear is that they will go deep underground, back to where they were a decade ago, only to occasionally burst out like some horror movie monster in violence.
I remain optimistic but realistic of our future.
What we saw today was in part a study in contrasts. In the space of under four hours, we heard two Presidents speak...one for his last time in that office (we hope) and one for his first time. The differences could not be more stark.
Although President Trump reportedly had prepared remarks for his farewell, he apparently tossed them out and decided to "wing it" in his usual disjointed, incoherent, self-aggrandizing style. His brief speech said little about anything but Donald Trump himself, extolling his non-existent accomplishments of the past four years, once again lying or exaggerating about the economy and the pandemic.
On other hand, President Biden spoke from a prepared speech...but still far more from the heart than his predecessor had or ever has. I couldn't, of course, transcribe his entire speech (and that will be available within minutes from the media, I'm sure), but here are the sentences and phrases that caught my attention:
"This is democracy's day...."
"The American story depends on....all of us...."
"The dream of justice for all will be deferred no longer...."
"My whole soul is in this...uniting our nation...."
"Without unity there is no peace...."
"Disagreement need not lead to disunity...."
"We must end this uncivil war...."
"We will not lead merely by the example of our power, but by the power of our example...."
Beyond the new President's own words, I was moved by two other things. The first was Lady Gaga's incredible rendering of the National Anthem. She did not simply sing it, she performed it...with grand gestures and powerful emotion. The second was the poem by Andrea Gorman, the poet laureate, and her reading of it. It's clear her style develops from rap and hip-hop--the rhythms and rhymes of her work all reflect that--and yet it was also clearly not merely an urban, ethnic opus. Like Hamilton, it uses those tropes to speak to a wider audience.
This was an inaugural ceremony for our time.
Yesterday was a post of predictions of long-term events. Today we'll deal with the short-term--what to expect tomorrow, Inauguration Day.
1. Joe Biden's speech will not be particularly memorable. He is not a Lincoln, FDR, JFK, or even an Obama-type orator. There will be no phrases like "the better angels of our nature," "nothing to fear but fear itself," or "ask not what you can do...." (unless he quotes from those, of course). It will, also, I think, not be a laundry list of what he hopes to accomplish; he'll save that for his first State of the Union speech in a few weeks.
2. Someone, somewhere, will do something stupid and/or dangerous in protest...not necessarily in Washington and not even at one of the state capitals. They've telegraphed those and know they will be too well guarded. Where? How about at one of our national monuments? A massive demonstration at Mt. Rushmore? Will the "second Civil War" types decide one of the battlefields of the first one is an appropriate place to wreak havoc--Gettysburg, Antietam, Bull Run?
3. Some GOP representative will immediately file a lawsuit against one or more of the executive orders Biden intends to put in effect tomorrow--most likely anything pertaining to immigration as that is their go-to issue to rile their base.
This time Thursday we'll know how good a prognosticator I am.
Will noon on Wednesday mark the beginning of a return to normalcy? And not just for our political lives, but everything else--shopping, entertainment, social life in general? I hope so; I think so.
Note that I say "the beginning"...I don't expect it to be like flipping a switch and all the lights come on, the engines start turning, the doors unlock. It will be more like when you start your car on a cold morning and the heater comes on--the first air that comes from the vents is cold and then slowly, over a period of ten minutes or so, it begins to warm the air. In fact, after 20 minutes or so, you'll probably have to turn down the system, because it gets too hot.
Certainly, politically, we will see the end of gridlock for the most part. While Republicans may still vote against most Democratic proposals, we will no longer have the situation of the last two years, with every bill passed by the House sitting and rotting on the desk of the Majority Leader in the Senate. That was not normal.
As for the non-political, I hope the change in atmosphere in Washington will engender a change in the rest of life--that wearing a mask will cease to be a political statement, that arguments about health restrictions will return to a debate about the science and not be a debate about "tyranny." I hope that those changes will lead to others--that more people being sensible about the restrictions will lead to more sensible restrictions (when you don't have to assume that a sizeable part of the public will not obey the rules, you can make the rules less strict).
BTW, a niggling note: Before Warren Harding used "normalcy" in his Presidential campaign, most people would have said the noun form of "normal" was "normality." "Normalcy" was a purely mathematical term, for the most part.
This isn't a bucket list; it's a "what I'll do as soon as I can post-COVID list." In no particular order:
1. Go to a movie in a theater.
2. Go see live theater (probably only local community theater, but still).
3. Direct and/or perform in live theater.
4. Play trivia in a bar.
5. Sing karaoke.
6. Go to a restaurant and not rush to get out.
7. Visit friends in person.
I'm sure you have a list as well--what's on yours?
I watched two things last night on TV: WandaVision and The Chase.
I'm not sure about WandaVision; I get that there's more than the surface to what's going on (a hint was the reaction of the boss's wife to his choking), and that the surface is an homage to sitcoms, especially The Dick Van Dyke Show and Bewitched, but I'd prefer if that homage were more loving and less satirical. It wouldn't detract, IMO, from the underlying premise if it were.
In addition, I find that there is little comedy chemistry between stars Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany. Their timing is so bad that Kathryn Hahn stole every single scene she was in. I may wait until there is more to watch in a bunch to try again.
OTOH, I quite enjoyed The Chase. It's a neat format for a trivia/quiz show. The one thing I don't like is that, like every new game show since Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, it is swallowed up in flashing lights and loud, dramatic musical stings. Why is it that producers haven't noticed that the most successful game show in TV history, Jeopardy, relies on none of those things? (They've even toned down the sound effects when someone hits a Daily Double in recent years.) The tension and suspense should come naturally from the gameplay and not need to be augmented with gimmicks.
I'll keep watching because, like Jeopardy, the questions are frequently quite difficult and cleverly written.
So the new argument is whether impeachment only makes things worse. The current assumption is that the Senate will not convict, leaving Trump free to continue his established ways, and his most rabid followers to virtually and literally attack those who opposed him.
This morning I heard a respected expert suggest a 9/11-style commission as a substitute. My first thought was that, today, almost ten years after 9/11, there remains a significant part of the American public that rejects the findings of that commission, that puts forward a range of conspiracies from the idea that the Twin Towers were collapsed by bombs and not the plane strikes, that the entire event was a "false flag" to justify Middle East intervention, and even that the planes never struck the towers and the Pentagon and all the video we have is fake (and the live broadcasts were a ruse that the networks were in on from the beginning).
Commissions and hearings just drag out the controversy and allow the fringe nuts to point to theories expounded in that testimony as "the real truth" or as evidence of whatever conspiracy they choose to accept.
Short of Trump dying (and I'm not even sure that would work, as there would surely be people who presume reports of his death are false--either perpetrated by his supporters or his detractors), I don't know how to end his influence on our politics in the short term. As was pointed out recently, Juan Peron died in 1974, but the movement he began in 1946 persists in modern Argentina.
It is widely rumored that Jodie Whitaker will be leaving her role as the title character on Doctor Who at the end of the 13th season, currently in production and scheduled to be aired in the fall. That will mean that, in terms of number of episodes, Whitaker will have the shortest tenure as the Doctor in the show's 58-year history. (Of course, little of that is her fault--her first two seasons were cut to 10 episodes from 12 by budget restraints and her final one is reduced to eight because of the pandemic.)
Although the BBC has yet to confirm the rumors, speculation has already begun on who should succeed her in the role....so I've decided to put in my own thoughts. Admittedly, this has only jelled for me in the past couple of days, as I watched my candidate perform as a contestant on BBC's Celebrity Mastermind game show.
Here's a link to the Wikipedia entry on Amos. Read it, catch one of his appearances, and see if you don't agree.
I've been watching a British gameshow called Mastermind (actually, only the celebrity version is available for streaming on Britbox, but the rules are the same for both). In the first round, each contestant is grilled for 90 seconds on a subject of his or her choosing. The second round is two minutes on general knowledge--everything from pop culture to science to history to politics to...well, whatever.
What amazes me is the subjects some contestants pick for their specialty...and then how bad they are at it. A good score in either round tends to be 7 to 9 right answers. On one show this week, one of the contestants (a Brit reality show "star") chose "cetaceans"--whales, dolphins, porpoises. I presumed she either had a lifelong interest in them or had boned up on the subject in advance. Based on her answers, I would have been wrong. She got three right. I'm no expert on the subject, but I would have doubled her score.
She was no better on general knowledge, where a good score is usually 8 to 10 right. She got 5. The whole time she was whining about how this was much harder than she thought it would be. It made me wonder why she agreed/volunteered to be on the show at all.
It also made me wonder what I would choose as a specialty in the same situation. Comic books and comic strips are an obvious choice...but to narrow it to stuff I really know (and you can do that here--one contestant had a category of the movie Die Hard...not the whole franchise, just the first film) I might make it only DC superhero comics from 1960 to 1970.
What would be your specialty?
I am torn as to what should be done in the remaining days of the Trump administration (eight left as of this morning).
Clearly, the best thing is for Trump to resign--it's the fastest, requires no action on anyone else's part and takes effect immediately. But we all know that's not going to happen, at least not without some kind of metaphorical gun to his head.
Second best would be activating the provisions of the 25th Amendment, declaring him unfit to continue to serve. There are several problems with that: First, Vice President Pence has said he is opposed, so the simplest way to do it (the VP and cabinet voting for it) is not going to happen and any other method would take too long; second, the provisions outlined in the amendment's language seem to be largely directed toward health reasons and not criminal ones, which means there could be court fights over whether the amendment even applies; and third, the amendment allows the President to challenge the action in the courts, again delaying the effectiveness.
Third best is impeachment, which the House has taken the first steps towards. But until the two new Senators from Georgia are seated, the Senate remains with Republican majority. That's not expected to happen until Inauguration Day itself, so there couldn't be a successful vote to remove Trump until he was already out of office.
Eight days may not seem like a long time--especially now that so much of Trump's bully pulpit has come unplugged--but his most rabid followers, the ones who eagerly heard his words last Wednesday as permission for riot and insurrection, are tuned into him, no matter how he gets the message out. Eight days is more than sufficient for a dangerous conspiracy to continue.
Update on the stove:
Sunday morning, we determined that it would be safe to use the stovetop burners, but we are still unsure about any part of the oven, so we won't be baking, roasting or broiling anything for a while.
Called GE's repair service this morning, the soonest they can get anybody here is nearly two weeks away...the Friday after next. I made the appointment, but I suspect I'll be canceling it because we will have ordered a new stove before then.
Anyone have any good crockpot recipes they can share?
Yesterday evening, Jill and I had a very pleasant on-line meeting with a group of friends. We discussed TV, movies, books, and life in general (no politics). About 7:15, we said our goodbyes and went to the kitchen to start dinner. We were broiling some hot dogs in our electric range.
About 60 seconds in, I heard a loud buzzing from the stove and opened the oven door, to see the broiler heating element shooting sparks from what appeared to be a break in it. I turned off the broiler and the sparks continued, so I went to the basement and tripped the breaker for the power to the stove. That ended it...for the moment.
We decided to get sandwiches from Wawa for dinner instead.
Some background: A few years back, we had a similar short occur in the main oven heating element. We had it replaced. In 2019, the hinge on the oven door was damaged, such that it will simply fall all the way open when released. We have been meaning to replace the entire appliance...and then the pandemic and lockdown occurred.
An odd thing about our stove: When it was installed (before we bought the house), it was "hard-wired" into the electrical system, as opposed to being plugged in. I don't know if that was standard some 25 years ago, but it means when we replace the stove, we need to have an electrician disconnect it and probably install a socket for the plug on any new stove. Oh, and it has to be an electric...there's no gas line to our house.
We'll probably be doing a lot of crock-pot and grill meals for the next few weeks.
Still keeping things light (or trying to):
What's your favorite form of reading material? Two decades ago, I would have answered science fiction...but too much SF has taken on a dark, dystopian feel. Even the normally future-hopeful genre of Star Trek has begun to look at the world through a dark glass.
These days, I'm reading mysteries--and mostly older mysteries. I went through the entire Nero Wolfe catalog, including the ones not written by Rex Stout. I've started my way through Erle Stanley Gardner's Perry Mason novels--there are more than 80 of them, so that will take me awhile. If I read a currently published mystery novel, it's likely to be historical.
In addition, I read a certain amount of non-fiction: History (I'm in the middle of one about the Bowery section of New York City), politics (but not current politics, thank you--I get enough of that in the news), some popular science (especially paleontology).
So, what do you read?
In an effort to lighten the mood around here after the past few days, here's a somewhat trivial question:
If you were a TV producer, what favorite television of your youth would you revive, with a new cast, and perhaps a more modern outlook--without losing sight of what made it a hit back then?
Here are a few of mine, divided by categories:
Comedy: The Patty Duke Show (obviously no longer called that, but maybe something like "Identical Cousins"). The idea of a pair of teenagers, twins but not sisters, with very different upbringings and personalities, is still a viable source of light-hearted farce. Mistaken identity as a source of comedy dates at least as far back as Shakespeare. And with modern special effects, the illusion could be quite effective.
Adventure: The Wild Wild West. In an age where steam-punk is popular, why not bring back the show that was using it before it was called that? Plus it's a buddy-comedy adventure and has the potential to make science-fiction-like commentary on current events.
Crime Drama: Honey West. It only lasted one season, but it was a groundbreaker in putting a woman in the title role of a private eye...and without the need for a male partner (like Remington Steele or Moonlighting). Casting? I have no idea...but surely there's someone with the appeal of Anne Francis in Hollywood today.
What are your ideas?
Not sure how many people have seen this, since it hasn't been mentioned in any TV coverage I've seen, but the insurrection against the Capitol in Washington may not have been a standalone attack.
State capitals in at least six states--Utah, Oregon, Washington, Kansas, Texas, and Arkansas--were threatened by large, violent and armed mobs yesterday afternoon. While none of these incidents seems to have resulted in the sort of breech of security that occurred on Capitol Hill, all of them resulted in some disruption of normal activity--including lock-downs and evacuations. (https://thehill.com/homenews/state-watch/532997-state-capitals-under-siege-by-pro-trump-mobs)
Does anyone think this is all coincidental? That there was not some sort of coordination involved? That followers of QAnon and 4-Chan and the like did not put out a call, a signal, to their compatriots that the afternoon of January 6 was the time to rise up and take control? I am not that naive.
I've seen some commentary on line comparing yesterday's insurrection to the famed Gunpowder Plot that is commemorated in Guy Fawkes Day. I think that comparison is inapposite. I think it has more in common with the Beerhall Putsch of pre-Nazi Germany. (If you're unfamiliar with that historic incident, here's a link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beer_Hall_Putsch)
Either way, we're talking an organized attempt to disrupt or overthrow the government.
It is perhaps significant that today's events in Washington fall on the Feast of the Epiphany. In the Christian church, this is the date on which the Magi arrived in Bethlehem, indicating Christ's manifestation to the Gentiles. But the word has a larger, more secular meaning as well:
an intuitive grasp of reality through something (such as an event) usually simple and striking; an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure
I'm hoping the failure of the last-ditch attempt to overrule and override the electoral results in Congress today will be an epiphany for Trump...or at least for his rabid followers--a grasp of reality, an illuminating realization that their ill-considered crusade is at an end. They lost in a fairly contested election in which there was no overwhelming voter fraud. (There's always some fraud--human nature practically demands it. Somebody somewhere is going to try to cheat.)
The question is, will this epiphany be the like the one Saul of Tarsus had on the road to Damascus--when he changed from persecuting Christians to leading them? Will Trump--or at least his followers--stop being perverters of democracy and become supporters of it?
I have stopped trying to respond to people who insist that the election was "stolen" from Donald Trump. There's no point to it. You either wind up talking to a brick wall or following them down the rabbit hole of their own deluded thinking. Even when you present them with verifiable facts (with citations from multiple sources), they tell you it's all fake and part of the vast conspiracy. When you ask them to present verifiable evidence of their "truth," they fall back on the oldest conspiracist argument in the world: The fact that there is no evidence is the evidence of how big the conspiracy is.
Early last year, before the pandemic, I directed a production of Neil Simon's The Prisoner of Second Avenue. I never thought the ravings of the lead character, Mel Edison, as he goes through a nervous breakdown would have any bearing on the real world, but....well, read the following and tell me it doesn't sound familiar if you've argued with a pro-Trumper or an anti-masker virus-denier in the past six months:
MEL: Do you want proof, Edna? Do you want me to give you actual, indisputable proof?
EDNA: Of what, Mel?
MEL: That me, that Dave Polichek, that Mike Ambrozi, Hal Chesterman, twenty-three secretaries, six point seven of the working force in this country today is unemployed not because of a recession, not because of wages and high prices, but because of a well organized, calculated, brilliantly executed plot? Do you want me to give you proof right here and now in this room?
EDNA: Well--alright...If you want, Mel.
MEL: I CAN'T GIVE YOU ANY PROOF!! What kind of proof do I have? I'm out of work, that's my proof...They won't let me work!
Let me point out that Simon wrote that in 1972, decades before Twitter and Facebook were even gleams in their creators' eyes.
With the departure of two companions over the weekend and the imminent arrival of another this fall, I thought this might be the time to talk about what makes a good partner for the lead character on Doctor Who and who I think have been the best ones (and I've seen at least a little bit of each of them along the way).
I think a good companion has to complement the Doctor they travel with, contribute something to the story and the team that the Doctor does not. A bland companion or one who simply echoes the Doctor's role and abilities is not as asset. That's why I never thought either iteration of Romana worked--we didn't need another Time Lord (or Lady), we already have one.
A close second was Tegan Jovanka--her feisty attitude was an equally good fit with Tom Baker's somewhat manic portrayal and Peter Davison's laid-back approach. The absolute worst in that period? Undoubtedly, Peri Brown. Her aggressiveness and argumentative style was a nice challenge to Davison...but it simply ground the story to a halt when she confronted Sixth Doctor Colin Baker all the time.
Second place goes to Amy, even though we only saw her with Number 11. My feeling for her comes from the idea that she was the first companion to have a real romance and life during her time with the Doctor.
Who is your favorite?
In 24 hours, the holiday season will be over for most of us, and we will return to real life...or as much of "real life" as we get in the current situation.
Jill will go back to work tomorrow after two weeks off...but, other than not spending eight hours or so every day at her desk, those two weeks were not all that different from the ones that preceded them or will now follow. (FTR, Jill has been working from home for five years now; the only thing the pandemic has done to her work environment is suspend the occasional business trips; her last one was in February.)
And, of course, I've been retired since May 1. I thought my retirement would be filled with things to do--especially community theater. But by the time I actually left my job, there was no community theater to do. And many of the other things I wanted to get involved in (I had proposed a "puppet ministry" for the young people in my church) have been put on indefinite hold.
So, frankly, except for some extra time on Zoom with friends and family and receiving some gifts, these holidays have not been any different from the "real life" that came before or will come after.
I suspect the same is true for most of you.
So, what did you all think of the New Year's special episode of Doctor Who (assuming you watched it)? While I'm not a big fan of the Daleks, it's nice to see someone try to use them in a different way. It did lead to a question, though--by this time, in the long history of the show, the people of London have seen Daleks a number of times before, probably some within the lifetimes of people still alive in 2021. Why is it they never recognize this menace when they see it?
Jill suggests it's because the authorities always cover it all up, putting out stories that chalk it up to a hoax, a new technology gone awry, or even--in a case of meta-story--a TV or movie shoot. This one may be a touch harder to explain that way: The prime minister was assassinated on live TV by Daleks. Surely the TV networks kept tape of that!
Trying to avoid spoilers, I was happy to see that the departing companions (or "fam") were left alive, well, and happy...and even with the wherewithal to do some adventuring on their own in the future (leaving room for guest shots, I suppose). I'm not as pleased with the hints that Yaz's friendship with the Doctor may go deeper than that. We went through that with Rose and Martha, and it never plays well, IMO. (And the fact that it's two women this time only gives the incels and social-justice objectors more ammunition.)
Your thoughts? (And if you include spoilers, I will not publish your comments for at least another week.)
Jill just said something to me this morning: "As you hear people talk about how happy they are that 2020 is over, you have to wonder about how we have come to divide up time." I know what she means: has anything really changed in the past 24 hours, other than some numbers on our calendars or the clocks in our computers? Why do we treat this as some great watershed moment? What makes January 1 so different from December 31? I mean, for most of us, even the weather today will be pretty much the same as it was yesterday.
I think about the great "historical" years. People will talk about 1929 as a "bad year," because of the stock market crash that caused the Great Depression....but the crash didn't occur until October. Did that one event color the previous nine months that, up until then, no one had viewed as especially momentous?
On the other hand, in my memory, 1968 was a truly terrible year: April saw the assassination of Martin Luther King, June the assassination of Robert Kennedy, the summer the demonstrations and riots around the Democratic convention in Chicago, and November the election of Richard Nixon (until the last four years the worst president of my lifetime). Those events so overwhelm me that I have little direct memory of anything else that happened that year--even though it was the beginning of my last year in high school.
So, yes, 2020 is forever marred by nine months of pandemic and political/social strife. Too much all at once. The new year perhaps lets us turn a page, like starting a new chapter in a book--building on all the stress of the previous chapter, but writing of new and hopefully better events to come.
