Notes on “Why I Write” by George Orwell

I’m working on an essay for a writers group I’m in. The essay comes from a prompt based off George Orwell’s article “Why I Write.” I won’t share my opinions on why I personally write just yet as I hope to share this with you once it’s done. But I did want to share some comments I’ve found interesting about Orwell’s essay. 

Eric Arthur Blair; aka George Orwell. I do not own this picture     

First note: “As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a writer.” (Push in on Eric Blair’s face, cue Tony Bennett’s “Rags to Riches.”)

I think a lot of people who call themselves writers find the desire to write early in their youth. Whether it’s an attraction to storytelling, or the desire to replicate the books they read or some innate movement they can’t explain. Orwell notes that, with hard work, a load of reading, and an insane amount of luck, they might just be able to become writers professionally. The most interesting note I can relate here is Orwell’s description of the practice and pleasure he put into writing once he realized that his early attempts at stories were merely a long series of descriptions. He found words to be impressive on their own once he read Paradise Lost. I can relate somewhat; I read Paradise Lost when I had already discovered the pleasure of words, but I do remember being in High School and enjoying a Shakespeare play (I think Henry V) purely on account of the language. I don’t think this was the exact moment I realized I wanted to be a writer, that I'm still discerning, but it certainly helped.

Second note: Death and Motivations of the Author 

Orwell believed understanding an author’s background is essential to understanding their motivations. Note that he distinguishes between understanding motives and understanding their work. I believe in the concept of Death of the Author, that is, the idea that an artist isn’t the final authority on their own work. I think Orwell might agree with that concept, even if his own idea of artistry is to render a story so plainly that it cannot be misunderstood. In any event, I completely agree with his assessment of understanding an artist’s background before you judge their work. If nothing else, it can help you remove them entirely from their art - if necessary. 

Third Note: Do We All Share These Same Impulses? 

This is the meat of the essay. Orwell offers four main motivations that he claims most authors share - in varying degrees over time. 

1) Egoism: the “Desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death, to get your own back on grown-ups who snubbed you in childhood, etc., etc. It is humbug to pretend this is not a motive, and a strong one.” 

• He’s right. I know my ego needs stroking off every now and then, BUT very importantly, Orwell argues that this isn’t mere selfishness, and more human nature. It’s an extremely individualistic outlook, but if you write for the public benefit, surely then it’s an altruistic outlook as well. 

2) Aesthetics: The “Pleasure in the impact of one sound on another, in the firmness of good prose or the rhythm of a good story. Desire to share an experience which one feels is valuable and ought not to be missed.”

• It’s not just the beauty of words arranged into a particular order to craft a perfect sentence; it’s the way they sound in your head and the images your imagination creates. This is, in a nutshell, why audio books count as reading. The beauty of words arranged in perfect order on paper cannot be understated, but words have audible component as well. Hearing a word and seeing a word might engage different parts of the brain, but the effect, from the base transmission of information to lyrical delights, are the same. 

3) Historical impulse: The “Desire to see things as they are, to find out true facts and store them up for the use of posterity.”

• The shortest motivation on the list, and arguably the most hard to claim. It’s been my personal experience that no writer sits down to write saying “I will write the Great American / British / French / Russian / other national identity novel.” No, writers sit down to write because they have an idea, some itch they much scratch, some message they want to convey. It’s only afterwards that a novel or a story is seen as historically significant. 

4) Political: The “Desire to push the world in a certain direction, to alter other people’s idea of the kind of society that they should strive after.” 

• Coming as no surprise for anyone who’s remotely familiar with his work, Orwell identifies most strongly with this category. (He subsequently spends the rest of his article examining what it means to be a political writer.) An important note he shares is that all art is in some way political, and even saying that a book shouldn’t have a political angle is a political idea. 

Fourth Note: That’s all I’ve got. Further ideas will be shared in my personal “Why I Write” Essay

Oh, btw, all quotes in note 3 came from Orwell's essay linked above. I absolutely do not own them. 

Here We Are Again

Surprising even myself, I don’t have a lot to say this week. I didn’t read all that much, didn’t watch all that much, didn’t play anything new. So I guess this is a life update post. 

Most significantly I’ve had an interview with my local library that I’m waiting to hear back on. I’m a pretty close fit for the job so I’m really eager for it. With any luck that’ll go my way. 

I’m starting to get out a little more, looking for some fun spaces around my new place. Not many, as it turns out, but there’s a few places not too far that I can look into. 

I’ve recently decided to change up my diet, focusing more on chicken, salads and beans as primary sources of nutrition. I’m also trying to be more active, swimming and walking more. 

Not much else has happened. Life continues. Be well. 

Those We Lost in the Cracks Between

I want to encourage you to go and see the movie I’m sorta reviewing here today. The Backrooms, directed by newcomer Kane Parsons, is a spin-off / soft adaptation of a web series Parsons created when he was 16. If you’re not aware of this series, it’s based on a creepypasta that’s been circulating the internet since 2019 when a 4chan user posted a picture of a yellow-wallpapered room, (below) and included the following caption: 

“If you're not careful and you noclip out of reality in the wrong areas, you'll end up in the Backrooms, where it's nothing but the stink of old moist carpet, the madness of mono-yellow, the endless background noise of fluorescent lights at maximum hum-buzz, and approximately six hundred million square miles of randomly segmented empty rooms to be trapped in

God save you if you hear something wandering around nearby, because it sure as hell has heard you”

— Anonymous, 4chan (May 13, 2019)

(neither image or quote is mine.)

It’s a vibe as uncanny as Twin Peak’s Red Room, or the Overlook Hotel from the Shining, pure uncanny valley, distilled into one image.

I said I want to encourage you to see this movie, but I really don’t want to tell you too much about it. I was aware of the original post and had seen a few episodes of the webseries, but I wasn’t all that involved in the community that had been built up around it. This was, fortunately, the right state of mind to enjoy the movie. 

I’m certain die hard fans of the series would appreciate the movie on a deeper level than I did, but as I understand it, the story is largely standalone. Plot wise, it’s about a failing furniture salesman and his small circle of friends who stumble across a break in reality that leads to the backrooms... and the monsters that dwell inside. 

Saying anymore wouldn’t ... spoil the story per se, it’s pretty straight forward. But talking about the plot would ruin the effect that Kane Parsons successfully creates. People have complained about the pacing, without seeming to understand that the slow pace is essential to the dread growing in the movie. Parsons lets the story unfold deliberately, between long shots of the backrooms liminal spaces, and perfectly chosen edits switching to another shot. Fans of the webseries will b glad to know that the found footage effect from the series makes a return, successfully adding a direct POV to the series that really adds to the overall creepy effect. In other words, based purely on visuals alone, this is the single most anxiety inducing horror movie I’ve seen in a long time.

Of course, visuals don’t carry the story alone. Characters and performance help, and thank god for our leads Chiwetel Ejiofor and Renate Reinsve. I really want to dig into their dynamic, and explore the way that liminality, loneliness and isolation are used thematically in their arcs, but again, saying too much will ruin the effect. I will say this; these characters broken by trauma regarding families and the ordinary failures of life. Scenes of the movie slowly reveal the isolation they feel, and their reactions to the Backrooms are the exact opposite of each other, one with horror, and one with a slow, accepting, descent into insanity.

It’s a creepy movie. I’ve mentioned Twin Peaks and The Shining, but they’re not really comparable. After watching the movie, I’ve gone back to the original series and frankly, I don’t think those are comparable either. As a movie it’s a unique encapsulation of dread, where I loved every second.  

Looking Forward

My cosmic odometer ticked over another year this past week, and I’m starting to feel my age. (27, if you’re asking.) Not that I’m getting too old to do things I still find fun.  Most of the tings I fund fun don’t take me out of my bedroom. But I am getting the urge to go out and do other things, to find more kinds of fun outside of my room. Because, I won’t lie, I kinda think I’m trapped there. despite the obvious external pressures of political realities, economic turmoil, and mental health problems I really do want to try to spend this next year of my life living like I never have before. 

The last 26 years have been... well troubling in retrospect. Not totally, of course. Highs and lows abound like in anyone’s life. But in the last six years I’ve had the clarity of mind to really questions what I had been taught, and try to learn from past experiences. This has been traumatic, and has prompted a greater shift in perspective on my life, as can be imagined. I don’t want to get into too many of the gory details of the past, but suffice to say that I’ve taken the last 6 years to discover who I really am. From there, I’ve tried to recoup myself and understand who I am and where I’m going. And now, after turning 27, I guess that I really don’t know where I’m going and what I’m doing. But I do know this: I’m tired of recouping. 

It’s time to build. I really, really want to spend this next year building something of my life. I don’t know what I’ll build, but I’m done coasting. I’ve got a few goals I want to accomplish, but I won’t beat myself up if I don’t finish them after a year. They’re goals, not end-all be-all achievements. 

[] I want to put some serious work into a piece of long creative writing. A novel or novella would be good. 

[] I want to read more, and try to break my YouTube Addiction. 

[] I want to intentionally seek out more friendships, work relationships

[] I want to try for some kind of romance. 

[] I want to take my mental and physical health much more seriously this year. 

[] I want to find a more creatively fulfilling job. 

[] I want to be kinder to myself and learn to build off the love for myself I’ve clawed back. 

Last year I seriously thought about giving up celebrating my birthday. After all I was far from home, in a new town, and trying to self-regulate my lifestyle. I’m happy to say that I’m going to continue celebrating my birthday (and hey, with a long weekend, I still am) because not celebrating is too close to real life. 

Here’s to another year! Come hell or high water, I’m going to make it a good one. 

Book Talk

 So, after last week’s mammoth post I was wondering what I’d be writing about this week. I’m compiling notes for an indepth review of the game Cyberpunk 2077; I thought I could write that this week, but I don’t think I’m ready yet. I haven’t talked about books I’ve read for a while, and now seems as good a time as any. So I’m just going to go through some of the few recent books I’ve read. 

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Madeline Miller’s first novel, this is a retelling of Greek myth that canonizes the speculated romantic relationship between Achilles and Patroclus during the Iliad. It’s a perfectly fine, but truth be told I wasn’t really into the central relationship. If you’re familiar with the Iliad, you’ll be relieved to see that the circumstances of Patroclus’ death remain mostly the same, with only a few deviations. Miller goes into greater detail for the cause of Achilles and Agamemnon’s feud. The real genius of the story, and the reason I’d recommend the book at all, is that  fictionalized account of Patroclus’ childhood. It bleeds seamlessly into rest of the story, and creates a compelling character out of an ancient archetype

Side Note: I really should reread the Odyssey before Nolan’s adaptation comes out. That would be fun. 

Carol or The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith

Patricia Highsmith published this lesbian love story under a pseudonym in 1952. While lesbian / queer fiction was nothing new at the time, it was mostly relegated to under the counter, pulply pornography that usually ended badly for all characters. Carol defies it’s peers by being a non-pornographic romance with a relatively happy ending which has proved vital to it’s enduring charm. It’s a dreamy story of a young woman pulled off her feet by her first true love, and I won’t lie, it feels amazing to finish the story and realize that she could continue that love affair. 

Practical Demonkeeping by Christopher Moore

Christopher Moore’s niche is quirky, comedic fantasy novels that draws humor from a Lynchian juxtaposition of the supernatural and the frustrating. It’s very Terry Pratchett, come to think of it. Practical Demonkeeping is about a 90 year old teenager who has been the personal master of a demon since 1919. openly hating the demonic fucker, Travis tries to get rid of it in a variety of ways when he stumbles into the Northern Californian town Pine Cove. Hilarity, witches, genies, and a whoooooole lotta murder ensue. It’s fine. I didn’t laugh as often as I have with Terry Pratchett books, but I still think you should read it. 

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman 

Speaking of Terry Pratchett. This was a reread for me as I was anticipating the third season of Good Omens and I wanted to refresh for the story. As it happens, the series adapted the book almost perfectly within the first season, and the second and third were built off an idea Pratchett and his writing partner Neil Gaiman had for a sequel. I’ll discuss it more when I review the show (possibly my next post.)

The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro

Did you enjoy Downton Abbey but thought that its endless melodramatic plotlines needed reining in? Well here’s a novel about only a few dramatic plotlines set in the generations after Downton Abbey official ended. It follows the prim and proper Stevens, butler to the late Lord Darlington. Stevens narrates the last few years of Darlington’s life - slowly revealing that Darlington had been a Nazi sympathizer who fell into disgrace following the end of WWII. Told in parallel is the tale of Stevens’ doomed romance with his fellow servant Miss Kenton, a romance doomed because Stevens is unable to be personable in any way shape or form. It’s a sad story, watching a man unable to admit the faults of the man he had pledged to serve or to see him painfully unable to admit his obvious feelings. It’s a good book and will probably end up on my best of the year list. 

Nine Dragons by Michael Connelly

I’ve been a fan of Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch novels for a few years now, and I’m pleased to say that this one remains as taught as the previous entries. I kinda prefer the Lincoln Lawyer books, so I’m happy to see Mickey Haller make a brief appearance in this entry. Despite some heavy subject matter and a slightly unbelievable plot, this is a decent entry in the Bosch series, and if you want a rip-raoring crime yarn, here you go. 

Leonardo da Vinci by Walter Isaacson

Although this is the first one of his books I’ve read, I’m not the biggest fan of Walter Isaacson. Something about his Steve Jobs and Elon Musk biographies haven’t really struck a chord with me. I dunno why, I think that they seem a little “great man theory” on the surface. Fortunately, Isaacson’s biogrpahy of Leonardo da Vinci is a good introduction to his writing style. It’s perfectly serviceable as a life story, even if it does occasionally feel like a TED-Talk on how much the modern world owes Leonardo. 

Faggots by Larry Kramer

This one... this was a lot and I’m not entirely certain how I feel about it. Faggots by Larry Kramer is the story of New York’s gay scene in the 1970’s. Yes, plot wise it’s about only a few people searching for love, but in all actuality, it really is about New York’s gay scene. It’s a deeply unpleasant satire about how flippant, image obsessed, and sex-hungry gay culture was in the 1970’s. Kramer’s characters obviously want something deeper. Noble goal for any character, hell, any person. The problem is the book has more than a whiff of self-loathing homophobia in it. It’s hard to say that any of the characters in the story feel like anything other than characters. It’s also chock full of gratuitous sexual content that’s clearly not meant as pornography. This is a heavily mixed recommendation for me. 

Moby-Dick by Herman Melville

I’m surprised I got through this one in a week, but I’m glad I did. It’s as good as everyone says it is. Strongly recommend. 

The Carpool Detectives by Chuck Hogan 

This was a surprise. A true crime story that’s not overly sensationalized, that focuses on the investigation processes, and features down to earth investigators who are likable and not at all exploitative of their subject matter? “There’s no fucking way,” you scoff. ‘Oh yes there is,’ I say. It’s a story we’ve all heard before: A group of people become obsessed with a 15 year cold case murder, and become determined to crack it after meeting with the surviving family members of the victims. The catch? The investigators are four mothers who are bored during COVID lockdown. In between raising their families and dealing with the stress of the pandemic, they spend a hall of a long time digging up this cold case as a way of staying sane. The best part? - Outside of this being a true story? They succeed. Great read, highly recommend. 

The Good People of the Pitt

Caveat Emptor: Frank discussion of depression, trauma, self-harm, suicidal ideation and sexual assault. 

The older I get, the more fucked up the world gets, the more I reflect on my personal heroes and how they’ve evolved as I’ve aged. When I was 6 my heroes were Batman and Doctor Strange. At 12 it was The Doctor. At 16 I started looking for real world heroes (though I still admire the fictional ideal.) Ulysses Grant, Ernest Hemingway, Hedy Lammar, Rosa Parks. All worthy heroes, certainly. But now, starting down the barrel of 27 years and life not getting any easier, I find myself admiring more down to earth figures. Mr. Rodgers, John Candy, Rosa Parks still. The people who were just good, salt of the earth types just trying to do good and spread joy through their lives. 

As a sort of segue, I’m thinking of “good people” as a theme while watching the second season of the Pitt. A few posts back I made the comment that the Pitt was essentially the story of side characters being presented as the main characters. I’ll hold to that, but I will amend that statement to say that the second season includes a greater depth of character to the protagonists of the show, as any good second season should. 

The Pitt is defined emotionally by two interlinked themes, empathy and trauma. As healthcare workers, the characters of the Pitt must have empathy for their patients, and give them the best possible care. But that doesn’t mean that their patients have empathy, and that’s a major source of stress. Well, that and the causally horrifying amount of death they deal with on daily basis. The first season opened by examining how the healthcare workers at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center were scarred by the COVID-19 pandemic. Some have adapted to cope healthily with the trauma, some are struggling. The first season closed by re-traumatizing the main cast with an overwhelming mass casualty event. That trauma, and many, many interpersonal conflicts hang over the second season. 

Interpersonal conflicts. Ooof. Remember that empathy I spoke of before? Just as much as the patients don’t exactly have empathy for their caregivers, the doctors and nurses of the Pitt don’t always have empathy for their coworkers. 

E.R. veteran Noah Wyle deserves a hell of a lot of praise for his performance as Dr. Robby, the Pitt’s troubled lead. Last season saw him finally break down after barely holding himself together since the pandemic. It’s not a pretty sight. Now, he’s on the verge of a 3 month sabbatical, and he’s eager to go, he needs the vacation. But he can’t let himself leave the Pitt. He seems to show the biggest change in character between the two seasons, while he remains polite with patients, his frustrations with doctors, nurses and other caregivers frequently boil over. Over the course of the season it’s heavily implied that he’s planning on hurting himself on the trip, possibly killing himself. Yet he confesses to a friend that his active suicidal thoughts happen while he’s working. He just wants to ride off and doesn’t really care about the future at this point. 

Of course it doesn’t help that the Pitt season 2 is set over the 2026 July holiday weekend, (2 months away guys) and it’s busier than usual. When cyberattacks at nearby hospitals force the Pitt to shut down their computer systems and treat patients with analogue systems, everyone feels the crunch. 

Returning characters from the first season are welcome, even if they all face their own demons. Dana (played by Katherine LaNasa), the charge nurse running the whole emergency department is a welcome face, but she has her own traumas to face. (She’s my favorite character, not going to lie.) Last season she was brutally assaulted by an unhappy patient and has started carrying a tranquilizer syringe to protect herself and her nurses. She goes full Mama bear to protect new nurse Emma (Laëtitia Hollard), who is assaulted by patients at two separate points. (Emma seems fine by the end of season, but who knows what the future holds.) Dana’s calm facade snaps when she’s protecting Emma, but otherwise she remains the steady rudder guiding the Pitt, teaching nurses how to deal with patients with great care and empathy. Episode 7 and 8 of the are their highlights; Emma and Dana collect evidence from a rape survivor, and are shown to treat her with great humanity. 

The doctors in training return from last season, with more layers of their personality onions being stripped away. Dr. Trinity Santos (Isa Briones) continues with her abrasive personality, this time struggling to keep up with her charting and the difficulties of her private life. She is responsible for exposing another doctor’s drug habit and feels the pressure of silent judgment from her peers. She’s implied to be self-harming from the pressure, and out of all the characters, doesn’t seem to be able to ask for help. 

Victoria Javadi (Shabana Azeez) struggles to pick a specialization as she ends her fourth years of medical school, dealing with the pressure of her mother’s overbearing expectations and her father’s quieter pressures. Dr. Mel King (Taylor Dearden) struggles with being named in a malpractice lawsuit, and general loneliness stemming from her sister moving on in life. Dr. Cassie McKay (Fiona Dourif) shows a little more stability than last season, proving herself a competent doctor with (possibly) a better love life than last season. Dr. Dennis Whitaker (Gerran Howell) has grown since last season, showing more confidence in his procedures while also demonstrating great empathy in dealing with patients and fellow doctors. One great moment in particular shows Whittaker comforting a traumatized new doctor who just lost in first patient in the worst way possible. This new doctor, Ogilvie (Lucas Iverson) is cocky and flippant, if competent enough, but losing his first patient on the table pushes him over the edge. Whitaker, who had been annoyed by Ogilvie’s attitude all day, comforts him, advising him on how to deal with the difficulty. 

Also returning is Dr. Frank Langdon, (Patrick Ball) the addict that Santos exposed last season. He’s just completed rehab and is back to work, but isn’t as confident as he used to be. While he tries to make amends with his colleagues and patients, he’s distressed by the pushback he receives. Dr. Santos in particular doesn’t want him back, and Dr. Robby doesn’t trust him. The season implies he might relapse into drug use, but he manages to survive the day without relapsing. 

This second season introduces a few new characters, Dr. Baran Al-Hashimi (Sepideh Moafi) being the most important. She’s poised as Dr. Robby’s replacement while he’s on sabbatical, and the two don’t exactly get along. Dr. Al-Hashimi wants to update the Pitt, and while Dr. Robby resents to the intrusion, her suggestions aren’t exactly unfounded, even if they’re not always good suggestions. For instance she pushes an AI transcription software to help with charting and ordering medications. But, she notes, doctors still have to proof read the transcription as it’s only 98% accurate, apparently. This plotline doesn’t feel like a cheap shot at AI, by the way. It’s depicted more as an active experiment than a takeover, even if it’s not that helpful. Dr. Al-Hashimi is at least depicted as being right in her criticisms of Dr. Robby's brusqueness and occasionally harsh moments. She's a great character and I hope she's in the next season. 

So it’s another stressful day at the Pitt. People clash, tensions and the temperature rise. And yet, through it all I find myself marveling over the small moments. An important plot point early in the first season shows the death of a man who worked on Mr. Rodgers’ Neighborhood, and his children finally bonding over his deathbed. That idea of being a neighbor, and bringing people some form of kindness and comfort remains an important theme in the second season, and, frankly, it’s why I watch The Pitt. You can talk about the show’s subtle (or not so) politics, or realistic approach, or it’s phenomenal writing (mostly; my one niggle with the show is there’s an occasional moment where the dialogue feels like it’s addressing the audience instead of the other characters. It isn’t frequent but feels awkward to hear; however I’m willing to give it a pass because it usually happens when the characters are speaking about some kind of industry failure and how they have to deal with it. If it takes fourth wall break to get effective change in the real world, I’m all for it.) You can and should talk about all of that. But I’m going to talk about the quiet moments of humanity. 

I mentioned Whitaker comforting Ogilvie, but he also encourages Langdon and helps him regain confidence. A Muslim nurse comforts a Jewish burn victim who suffers PTSD from the 2018 Pittsburgh synagogue shooting. The hospital staff help an overweight man in need of a risky surgery reconnect with his sister. Dana and Emma show kindness to a homeless man, giving him a haircut and shower. The nursing staff comforting a woman detained by ICE agents. Dr. Robby’s friend Dr. Abbot encourages him to come back alive from his trip and to seek help. In the end, the day shift gathers on the roof of the hospital and watches the 4th of July fireworks. 

Notably, Dr. Robby doesn’t leave on his sabbatical at the end of the season. Instead, he’s finally shown comforting a foundling baby that things will be OK. He’s convincing himself, yes. But it’s one of the rare times in the show that he appears with his guard down. 

The older I get, the more fucked up the world gets, the more I want to be like Mr. Rodgers and John Candy (he could have been a wonderful cast member of the Pitt, now thinking about it.) Here’s hoping that everything will be OK.  

Cheers. 

May 3rd Post

Quick note, saying hi.

Exhausted after moving this past week. 

Working on a longer piece for next Sunday. Don’t know what it’s about yet, I have to finish the book first. 

Can’t wait.

Anyhoo. 

Have fun. 

On the Accumulation of Crap

So - I was going to move yesterday, but through a complex series of events that I don't fully understand, I've ended up having to move tomorrow.

Sorry, I wish I had a longer post for you, but I've been packing for the last three days and it seems like I'm nowhere near done. It's at times like this that I have to ask myself how did I get 400 books? Why do I have 14 coffee mugs? I understand why I have all the sex toys, but where did all the commemorative pins  come from? 

Where did I get all this? It feels like living is literally literally just the accumulation of objects that momentarily excite you until they fade out of your mind until you wonder where you got it and why its cluttering up your life. 

Anyhoooooooo... I'll see you after I move. 

  

Real Brief Post

Hey folks, 

Real brief post today as this week and next week I'll prepping to move sometime on the 27th. I'm really busy with prep work for that, so no big post this week or next week. I'll try to have some life updates as I go, post some pictures of the new place. 

Anyways, I'll chat later.  

Boy Erased: Book & Movie Reviews + Personal Thoughts

Caveat Emptor: this post will address some weighty subjects, conversation therapy, suicide, sexual assault, self-harm and loss of religious faith among them. 

In the opening moments of Boy Erased, a pastor compares a room full of damaged people with a dollar bill, reminding them that even if the bill is crumpled or is ripped up, that doesn’t change it’s inherent value. If it’s damaged it can be taped together, and it’s still legal tender. As such, people who are looking to heal their scars can be treated, they can find peace, and their scars can fade. 

All true (provided your dollar isn’t more than 50% destroyed.) But it’s a deceptively wholesome moment. After all, a Dollar only has value because we’ve agreed societally that it does, and because most of the people in that room aren’t damaged in the way the counselor says. I see I’ve left out some crucial information. Before introducing the dollar to the conversation, the counselor leads the room in a call-and-response mantra: "I am using sexual sin and homosexuality to fill a god-shaped hole in my life. But I am not broken and God loves me." You’ll question just how much the pastor believes the second sentence over the rest of the movie. 

Based off Garrard Conley’s memoir of the same name, Boy Erased is a slightly fictionalized account of conversation therapy practices. (I say slightly fictionalized - while the movie doesn’t follow Conley’s life entirely, it remains true to the events of the book, while removing some elements and adding real conversation therapy practices that didn’t take place in book.) Before addressing the book and the movie’s main subject matter, I have to take a quick detour and address the film making. 

This project was adapted and directed by Joel Edgerton (young Owen Lars of the Star Wars prequel fame) and stars Lucas Hedges, Nicole Kidman, Russell Crowe in a career best performance, and Edgerton himself. The supporting cast is made up of American theater staple Cherry Jones and two musician cameos, Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and singer Troye Sivan. There are no bad performances here. I’ve already mentioned Russell Crowe’s performance as a career best, but Cherry Jones, Kidman and Edgerton all deserve praise. Hedges and the other performers who play the “patients” in the conversion program were all awardworthy and it's a shame that most major awards chose to ignore this project. They play scared, determined, angry, confused, and they hide all that under masks of complete sincerity. That’s a lot to ask of any actor and it gets brutal. 

As for the movie itself, it occasionally plays like a horror film, full of dark shadows, intense psychological harm, and self-loathing that can make it hard to connect to the characters, especially the parents of the kids being forced into this awful situation. Two minor, monstrous characters spring to mind; one a literal bible-basher who treats his son to a mock funeral that plays like the blanket party from Full Metal Jacket. The other monster is a coward and a rapist. Here, I have to bring up that the movie accurately portrays Conley’s outing as coming from an abuser who took advantage of, and raped Garrard. He later posed as school counselor, called Garrard’s family and outed him, including accusing him of abuse. This sequence is arguably the most horrifying moment in the movie, as the trauma of the event is shown to torment an already conflicted Garrard to the point of self-harm. It doesn’t help that Garrard’s father is implied to not believe his son’s protestations of innocence, or at the very least blames the victim, which feeds into Garrard’s self-loathing spiral. 

Given the subject matter, I think I can forgive the movie as coming off like a horror film. That said, I have to clarify that the movie is never exploitative or shocking for the sake of being shocking. It’s difficult to watch, but nothing is played for cheap drama. Instead, it’s brutally, depressingly real. And somehow, it manages to keep to the memoir’s goal of finding understanding. 

Garrard Conley’s memoir is not a muckraking expose; plenty of those have been written or filmed about the immoral and fraudulent practices of conversion therapy. (I wont go into detail of actual practices, but I am going to link to several stories from survivors and the APA’s condemnation of the practice.) Instead, Boy Erased is an account of traumas stacked upon traumas, search for understanding and healing - not just for Conley, but for his entire family. Ultimately, it’s Conley’s attempt to understand his father; a difficult love letter to a complex family. He doesn’t chastise his father for sending him to conversation therapy, nor does he denigrate his father’s faith. In fact, he implies that his relationship with his father, whose Christian faith remained intact, improved to a more understanding if not totally accepting relationship. 

I feel like I’m loosing my point here. Let me return to something before I sum up; both the book and the movie of Boy Erased are definitely worth your time. Outside of some inconsistent tonal moments, the movie is a wonderfully filmed, if difficult to watch story and I believe it’s important to watch. Sadly, some of the book’s more poignant moments and some characters were removed for pacing reasons, but the essential story about healing and understanding remains. The book is powerful, compelling reading. It’s clearly affected me. 

There’s a line from the books epilogue that speaks to me; “I will not call on God during this decade-long struggle. Not because I want to keep God out of my life, but because his voice is no longer there. What happened to me has made it impossible to speak to with God, to believe in a version of him that isn’t charged with self-loathing. My ex-gay therapists took him away from me.” (Boy Erased, page 335)

It reminds me of scene from the movie Spotlight (2015), where Phil Saviano, founder of SNAP, tells the Spotlight investigative team that priests who molest children don’t just cause physical and emotional damage, they also cause spiritual damage. 

Whether or not you believe in God, you have to recognize the danger of so-called reparative therapy practices. Insisting that a fundamental part of a person is worthless or corrupt or evil damages not just the psyche, but also the way these people see God. Most of the people who enter these conversation camps already see themselves as broken or sinful, and all they are told inside only compounds this negativity. 

I’ve never had any conversion experiences like Garrard Conley, but I do come from extremely religious circles that condemn homosexuality. Much like the characters in Conley’s memoir, I grew up sincerely loving my faith, and over time exposure to the toxic beliefs of my peers or my friends wore down on my beliefs. I don’t know if I’ll ever seek any kind of religion again. Frankly it’s too soon to say. 

The insidious thing about the opening of the movie is that the pastor is almost correct. People do have inherent value and that value isn’t dependent on anything, especially not an foundational part of human life like sexuality. But unlike a dollar, a human life’s worth isn’t just a social construct. That’s the hardest truth to relearn. 

As the World Turns

 Happy Easter, One and All. 

I wish I had a book to review for this post, because I don’t have much to really talk about. I could talk about my personal life, but I have explicitly tried to avoid that with this project so far. I’ve been trying to share cultural  opinions on here, keeping my personal life to a minimum. I’m realizing that this goal might be misguided. Not that wanting to keep a private life is a bad thing, but sharing critical opinions means that you have to share personal opinions, thoughts and beliefs. (I refer you back to my post about the Big Nowhere.)

Of course I don’t have to share more than that, and I am going to keep my private life private, but I’d be lying to you if I didn’t acknowledge my personal beliefs creeps in from time to time. And if my beliefs sneak in, my personal life might too from time to time. Now that the Easter holiday is on us, I think I’ve been reflecting on where I am in my life and where this year has been going. I apologize if this a maudlin topic, it’s just what’s been on my mind. Either that or it’s way too late on a Friday night and I’ve been drinking more than usual. 

...

OK so it’s the next morning, and I was totally drinking too much when I wrote the opening paragraphs here. I do like what I said though, maybe I should be drinking more when I write...

In any event, trying to review where this year has been going isn’t a bad idea. I started this year with only one goal in mind, improvement. I have now realized I really needed to specify what I want to improve on. OK then. I really want to get more mobile, I want to exercise more and I want to be healthier (jury’s out on progress.) I want to find a new job that’s better paying and that fits my skills better. I want to spend more time writing (work related burnout has been killing me here, but I’ve recently joined a writer’s group that will hopefully force me back into exercising creativity. 

What sucks about some of these goals is that they’re outside of my control (the job market is FUCKED) and I basically just have to be incredibly lucky to achieve them. In terms of being healthier, I’m battling genetics and some serious anxiety issues. In terms of being creative I’m battling the same anxiety and burnout. Well, frankly, fuck all that. I’m still going to try and do it. It’s not like any of these goals are impossible. It’s not like the world is so fucked that I can’t do any of these. 

*You raise your eyebrows, stand up, walk over to the window, pull the blinds apart to reveal a world on fire set to a soundtrack of agonized human screams. You close the blinds, cutting off the screams, and raise your other eyebrow at me, making a mad-eyed-staring-face*

OK, yeah, the world is fucked. I know that. I’m trying to keep a sense of hope about things. That’s kind of the point about Easter, isn’t it? 

Anyone who reads this probably knows I was raised Catholic, and while I’m more agnostic in my spiritual beliefs now, the effects of the traditions I was raised in still have left their impression. Easter (or if you prefer the old Saxon pagan term Ēostre) as a time of renewal, of spiritual growth seems like the perfect time to remind ourselves that we can always improve, and that life gets better. As fucked as everything seems right now, well, we can still hope that things will change for the better as the world turns. Isn’t that what hope in the Resurrection really means? 

Anyways, I hope you all have have a wonderful day. 

Shorter Post Today

For whatever reason I’ve been a little too burned out this week to sit down a write a long post about the things I usually write about. I’ll blame work and stress from doing taxes and the possibility of moving next month as the cause of said burnout. So here’s some random reflections I’ve had about the month of March. 

Reading goals

Largely fell behind this month thanks to extraneous pressure. What didn’t help is that I started another one of Brandon Sanderson’s MASSIVE fantasy novels too soon after finishing my last one. Seriously I needed to wait longer. I’m still planning a post in appreciation of Brandon Sanderson but I think I’m going to wait until after I finish the Stormlight archive. Meanwhile I’ve transitioned to reading some smaller books, a biography of Harvey Milk and the Swedish book A Man Called Ove. Oh and the Akira manga. (Those in the know will laugh when I call it “shorter.”)

Writing goals

Fallen behind. Long Story. Don’t ask. 

Movie watching goals

Early this month I started watching all the James Bond movies in order, I’m almost done with them and I’m thinking about writing a multi-part retrospective on the entire series. I’m not certain if I’d break it down by decade, by movies or by lead actors, but I’ll think of something. 

Personal Goals

All over the place this month. The week I disappeared and didn’t write anything I was at a convention making friends. Specifically I was at the Texas Bear Round Up, which for the uninitiated is a gathering of Bears (my gay social group) and the people who like Bears. I had some friends flying into town and it was lovely to see them all again. I had a lot of fun, made a lot of friends, and I’m doing well afterwards. Otherwise I’ve failed on some of my movement and exercise goals for this month. April will be better. 

Conclusion

So that’s where I’m at. I’m moving next month and I don’t know how closely I’ll be sticking to any posting schedule as a result. Hell I don’t know how well I’ll be sticking to a reading schedule. Like so much of life, it’s all up in the air right now. I’m doing well though. I hope you are too. 

Movie Appreciation Time

My apologies, I missed last week’s post due to an unavoidable mission of revenge. It was a thrilling tale of bereavement, alcohol, curses, barbecue, dance clubs, and jaywalking. I’ll tell you all about it sometime. But now that I have achieved satisfaction, I’m free to rant about somewhat topical movies. 

I’m not the biggest fan of the Oscars, (not until they start recognizing stunt performers at least - Casting’s a step in the right direction.) But I do like to keep abreast of winners and losers each year, if only to compare the actual best movie of the year with the movie whose producers have deep enough pockets to win. See, I do really like movies, and I do kinda care about what the “best movie of the year” is, if only because it’s so hard to tell sometimes. Like in 2005 you had Brokeback Mountain, Capote, Good Night and Good Luck, and Munich competing as “best picture” for any number of critical lists. Meanwhile the Oscars picked Crash, a movie that most retrospectives agree is one of the worst picks for any year. (I haven’t seen it so I’ll reserve judgment, but considering the line up... Good Night at least should have taken it.) 

I don’t go out to see many movies, but it seemed like 2025 didn’t really have a knock out good lineup like 2005 did. What a difference 20 years makes, huh? I hadn’t even heard of a few best picture nominees when they were announced (which, shame on me, was mostly because they were foreign language movies that actually seem really good.) 

But the only three I had seen, One Battle After Another, Frankenstein and Sinners all seemed like strong contenders for Best Picture. I was immediately and absolutely certain of three things right off the bat: 1) Sinners was the best movies of 2025 and it would not win best picture. 2) One Battle After Another was so-so and would 100% win best picture. 3) In the event it didn’t, Frankenstein would be selected on the strength of it’s visuals. I have no way of verifying prediction 3, but 1 & 2 were spot on. 

One Battle After Another

I called this one as the obvious best picture winner because of its nominal political relevance. But for a story about former leftist revolutionaries battling a psychotic anti-immigration officer, this movie really doesn’t have much of a political message. Far from it. Not, it’s actually about a frankly inept father setting off to rescue his daughter from psychotic white supremacists after her mother abandons the revolution and her family. 

Yeah it’s a strange one. It’s adapted from Thomas Pynchon novel, so of course it’s strange. The question is, is it good? Uhm... yes? 

Obvious praise time: the cast and crew do a good job. Paul Thomas Anderson’s direction is fine and Leo DiCaprio as Pat / Bob does a good job, but I feel like they both shouldn’t get a free pass just for doing their jobs anymore. Are they exceptional here? Not really. PTA’s direction is really good during the last 30 minutes, but before that was merely fine. Leo’s acting was good throughout, but I was honestly was much more interested in the other characters. Chase Infitii as Willa, Bob’s kidnapped daughter, Benicio del Torro as Bob’s best friend, Sean Penn as the villain Col. Lockjaw. Comedy writer Jim Downey gets a memorable cameo and the rest of the cast is fine. 

And that’s kind of the problem. It’s just fine. It’s not exceptional in any way worthy of Best Picture. It doesn’t have a memorable or important political message, or even anything interesting about fatherhood or living as the daughter of a former revolutionary. 

Frankenstein 

I tried to write down what I thought of this movie when it first came out, and ended up with a shambling, 2,000 word mess of an essay that was neither positive nor negative. The conclusion I drew is that it’s a good movie, but it still pales to the Karloff / Whale duology from the 1930’s. 

I don’t want to be harsh on del Toro’s vision here, but I feel that this movie misplaces it’s affection for the Creature. Thematically, the movie is focused on sympathizing with “the Other” - and the creature is indeed very sympathetic. Compare this too the book, where the Creature, while sympathetic, is filled with wrath against his Creator for bringing him to life and abandoning him, swearing vengeance upon Victor. That sort of happens in del Toro’s version... but the Creature isn’t really angry that he was abandoned. He’s more upset that he’s cursed to be lonely for the rest of his unnaturally long life. 

Thematically, this version just fell flat for me. I love a lot about this movie, the visuals, the set design, the costume design, the inclusion of the North Pole expedition from book. The cast is mostly good, Mia Goth, Felix Kammerer, Lars Mikkelsen and Charles Dance are memorable, if a little undersold by a strangely flat script. I have my issues with turning Victor Frankenstein into a mustache-twirling villain, but Oscar Isaac plays him well enough. I have to praise two performances especially; Jacob Elordi as the Creature and David Bradley as the Blind Man. Both bring incredible pathos to their characters and have a really sweet relationship in their scenes together. 

On his own, Elordi kills it as the Creature. I wasn’t enthusiastic about his casting mostly because I knew him from Saltburn (which I hate having to think about) and Euphoria (which I straight up hated). Well, that’ll teach me to judge a performance without seeing it. He’s phenomenal and really should’ve gotten best supporting actor, not Sean Penn.

Sinners

Sinners was one of the few movies last year I was genuinely excited about once I heard of it. A genre-twisting southern-gothic vampire musical set in depression era? Staring Michael B Jordan and directed by Ryan Coogler? Sign me the fuck up. Yeah, it’s plot is basically a remix of From Dusk Till Dawn, but it’s the kind of remix that takes a good central idea and reworks it with different themes and directorial choices. 

Sinners is about music’s power to reach from the past and connect us in the present. A simple animated prologue establishes the power of music to heal communities, specifically highlighting the musical traditions of the Irish, the Choctaw tribe, and descendants of African tribes. What do these three communities have in common? If your answer is they are all subjugated cultures, you have been paying attention. 

Of course, Sinners focuses on African-American culture. Sinners is set during the Jim Crow era South, and makes full use of the setting. The atmosphere of the central location, references to hoodoo culture, and Blues music enrich the setting. I can’t praise the soundtrack enough; movie-original blues song I Lied to You is a highlight, a showstopper sequence that bridges the blues’ origins in African music and it’s future in rock and roll and hip-hop. It’s one of the most beautiful musical sequences I’ve ever seen. 

I have to praise the final act’s turn to violence. Not only is it a brutal vampire slaughter that rival’s Midnight Mass’s final episode, but Michel B Jordan gets to unleash hell on a hapless set of Klansmen, which is cathartic as all hell. Seriously, I much more prefer Sinners’ approach to contemporary politics than One Battle After Another.

Since I just mentioned him, I’m going to say that Michael B Jordan deserving his Oscar for playing twins Smoke and Stack. The rest of the cast is great; Hailee Steinfeld is incredible, newcomer Miles Caton sings his heart out during the aforementioned I Lied to You scene, and Delroy Lindo and Omar Benson Miller give us some wonderful moments of comedic relief, and Wunmi Mosaku brings a sense of wisdom and gravitas to her role as the hoodoo practitioner Annie. Jack O’Connell plays a great villain, Irish vampire Remmick, simultaneously sympathetic, fun and pants-crappingly scary.

Conclusion

Clearly I loved Sinners, so I might be biased. I won’t go so far as to call the Oscars racist for not choosing it as best picture (they did give it 4 deserving awards after all: Best Actor, Best Original Screenplay, Best Cinematography and Best Original Score) but I do think that the Oscars are reluctant to award Sinners anything because it’s a horror film. 

My take on it is the Oscars were trying to be a little more politically conscious this year (Conan O’Brien’s alternate Oscars joke was proof enough - Coco was great by the way.) Frankenstein would have been a safe middle of the road choice, but it was never going to win. So the only two viable choices for Best Picture were One Battle and Sinners. (Well ... Weapons should have been nominated for Best Picture but the most the Oscars would stoop to recognizing it was Best Supporting Actress - and Amy Madigan fucking deserved that win.) I don’t know if Sinners was a step too far or if One Battle After Another was just the more palatable option. But, if you want my opinion, while One Battle comes from a good place, it’s really messy in execution and refuses to explain itself. Sinners comes from a place of great artistic inspiration, and it has the nuance to parse its themes to the point where you can draw your own conclusions without needing to explain itself.

The Other Side of the Big Nowhere

 Fair warning; this post might delve into some heavy themes including suicide and homophobia. 

I’m reading a history books about gay life in Washington DC during the 20th century, which spends a decent page count on the concurrent Red and Lavender Scares of the early 1950’s. If you’re unaware and can’t guess, the Lavender Scare the expunging of queer people from governmental roles. It began roughly the same time as Joseph McCarthy’s red-baiting bullshit, but if this book I’m reading is to be believed, it lasted much, MUCH longer than the Red Scare, well into the late 1960’s. This expunging largely targeted gay men by the look of it, or at least this book doesn’t go into fate of lesbians that much. (btw, I won’t name this book because the author is - apparently - a jackass and I don’t want you to support him. It’s a shame because this is a fascinating side of history that needs to be recognized; while there are apparently other books on this subject out there - such as this one  - I’m finishing this book before I move on.) 

Anyway, this book I will not name has produced several good effects in me, namely, it’s led me back to today’s subject, The Big Nowhere by James Ellroy. 

If you’re unfamiliar with Ellroy’s output, I can’t adequately express what a kick in the head it is to read him for the first time. He seems off-putting at first, and that’s way too tame a descriptor. Even if you know his works, you you might assume he’s a horror writer rather than a crime writer or the Historical Romance writer title that Ellroy prefers. You could call his books copaganda the way the LAPD is glorified, but at the same time, every police officer in Ellroy’s books are unfailingly presented as draw-string shitbags barely better than the criminals they catch or kill. Watching any of Ellroy’s interviews leaves the (accurate) impression of a raconteur with a vocabulary from a 1940’s GOP locker room. He’s big, he’s bold, he’s the self-proclaimed Demon Dog of American Literature, literally in your face and barking. The hardest thing about reading an Ellroy book is the violence, the raw sexuality, the aberrant criminality that abounds on every single page. Very few cops are not corrupt, bigoted, arrogant or unreliable and very frequently are dealing with criminals barely worse than the cops themselves. These are stories about bad men hunting worse men, while beautiful women look on. 

That’s Ellroy’s surface. His critical reception has largely been positive thanks to his peerless ability to write stories about LA, but there’s much more to him than historical fiction. There’s a reason Joyce Carol Oats called him the American Dostoevsky. The slightest amount of digging into his story reveals someone intimately familiar with the true darkness humanity is capable of expressing, and the light that is so often buried underneath. Ellroy has tried to find that light for himself many times. His mother Jean was murdered when he was 10, and he’s has stated that her murder haunts him and influences his writing. He’s tried to solved her murder on his own several times, documenting his investigation and their overall relationship in several memoirs.  He never found his mother’s killer, never even came close, but he did find some kind of light in the darkness. Usually, his characters will too. His protagonists are very rarely better than the criminals they catch, but on rare occasions, you may even see a glimpse of nobility in them, buried under miles and miles of genuinely unpleasant actions.

The Big Nowhere is where I finally understood what James Ellroy was trying to do with his books. It’s the second book in a series of four novels collectively known as the LA Quartet, the other volumes being The Black Dahlia, LA Confidential, and White Jazz. (LA Confidential was adapted into a movie in 1997 and remains how most people - including myself - are introduced to Ellroy.) The Quartet is a sort of secret history, telling the story of LA from 1948 through 1960. It’s fiction, but to aid with historical verisimilitude Ellroy includes real crimes, providing fictional solutions to events as diverse as the Black Dahlia murder to the Sleepy Lagoon killings. The Big Nowhere runs concurrently with the infamous HUAC hearings that produced the Hollywood Ten blacklist, with the main plot thrust being a red-baiting LAPD investigation into a stagehand union. The second main plot running through the book is about a young and naive LA County Sheriff as he traces a serial killer who mimics the killing patterns of Wolverines - and who exclusively targets gay men. 

Beware - major spoilers lie beyond. I’m doing my best to minimize. 

In crime fiction, the private eye’s greatest motivation is obsession, and Ellroy’s detectives are masters of that sordid art. They get obsessed with the usual suspects, women, drugs, money, and the all-important elusive solution. This sheriff in The Big Nowhere, Danny, becomes obsessed with his case, obsessed with catching this killer of men. The only problem is - his colleagues and his enemies wonder why he’s so obsessed about a homo snuff killing. 

You can draw your own conclusions, conclusions Danny is reluctant to draw himself. 

For understandable reasons, as it turns out. When Danny is outed (and framed for the murders he’s investigating) his life is ruined. Faced with the decision of suicide or being outed under a lie detector questionnaire, Danny chose the less painful option. If my most recent history read is accurate, that was a fate all too common in the era.

From the perspective of a person familiar with Ellroy’s style of protagonist, I was amazed that he didn’t treat either Danny or the serial killer - who is also gay - as simplistic character. Yes, bury your gays applies and they’re not exactly positive depictions of gay people, but they are first and foremost complete characters - complex, tragic and strangely sympathetic. (I won’t describe the events that drove the killer to violence, but they are horrific and make an almost irredeemable monster into a disturbingly sympathetic character.) 

I want to show that kind of sympathy to the characters in the books and stories I write. Hell, that’s the kind of sympathy / empathy I want to have for people in the real world. That really is the miracle of Ellroy’s style. Beneath the bluster and the conservative raconteur persona lies a sympathetic, remarkably kind author who understands the depths humans can sink to. He respects his characters, but they don’t get special treatment. The good leave for the big nowhere and the bad live on. That’s life, depressingly enough. That’s our history as a country. 

On a personal note, The Big Nowhere is the book I was reading when I was finally starting to accept my own sexuality. That is largely why it's remained my favorite book. As you can imagine, Danny’s story resonated with me - especially in his final scene. That moment... wooof. It’s one of those rare times where you just have to put the book down and stare out the window after reading. 

At the time that I read it, I realized I was facing a decision like Danny. I want to be clear, I wasn't facing the same stakes, I was never that desperate. But the choice was similar. Acceptance or letting my soul step into the big nowhere. I know I made the right decision. 

Heroes of Their Own Story for Once

Change of pace here, let’s talk about what I’ve been watching instead of reading. There will be some crossover with what I’m reading, but that’s neither here nor there. 

I’ve realized that my favorite type of characters are supporting characters. The type of side characters who steal the show from the protagonists and antagonists by virtue of their usefulness in the plot. They exist entirely to help or hinder the heroes on their journey, and frankly, they make the world of stories feel real. Below are two micro reviews for shows that feel like side stories, where every single character plays a supporting role to the rest of their world’s stories. 

I hope everyone is watching the The Pitt. It’s one of the few shows I’ve seen in the last few years that actually feels hopeful. If you’re unaware, The Pitt (on HBO) is a medical drama following the particularly hectic 15 hour shifts at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. Created by ER alumni R. Scott Gemmill, John Wells and Noah Wyle (who also stars), the Pitt plays out in real time and has been acclaimed for the accuracy and level of realism in its depictions of medical procedures. 

Mostly accurate, I should say. I don’t know from experience, but I have seen reviews from medical professionals who critique some aspects of the show; notably that CPR doesn’t exactly look violent or deep enough, the number of complex cases that enter the Pitt is unrealistically high. (I refer you this this article here.) 

I mean, it a drama series, the amount of complex cases will be unrealistically high for the sake of the story tension. And tension really is the word for the show. One aspect that the medical community has unequivocally praised the show for is it’s depiction of mental health struggles among ER workers and GOD does the show make you feel that. Many of the characters struggle with the stress of their job, a stress which is compounded by under funding, short staffing, administrative demands, drug addiction and yes, violence against healthcare workers. It’s sad to say that these aspects of the show have been praised as accurate too. 

It’s a phenomenally well-written and acted show. Noah Wyle deserves all the praise he’s received as the lead Dr. ‘Robby’ Robinavitch, but I also want to praise Patrick Ball, Katherine LaNasa, Tracy Ifeachor, Taylor Dearden and Gerran Howell for their performances. Really the whole cast deserves praise, but I need to highlight the performances of two other guest stars, Samantha Sloyan, best known to Mike Flanagan fans as Bev Keane, and Drew Powell, best known to Gotham fans as Solomon Grundy. They play two wildly different characters, patients at the Pitt, but they leave a huge impact on series. 

I also really need to praise the writers and director who managed to balance the pacing of several intense story lines pitch-perfectly. In the end, what I love about this show is that it’s story of people who care working in a system that doesn’t care at all. It’s frustrating, surprisingly cathartic, sad and uplifting at the same time. I haven’t seen anything of season 2 yet, but I’ve heard it’s more of the same, which is exactly what I need from television right now. 

Here’s the crossover with my reading, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. I just finished reading George R R Martin’s Dunk and Egg novellas, which have provided the basis for this next Game of Thrones spin off. I got to admit, I’m excited for this new series. I didn’t watch this as it aired (I kind of prefer the bingewatch model of television - it lets me multitask) but a 6 half hours episodes, it’s short enough to watch in an afternoon. I’m also surprised by just how closely the series followed the story; outside of an extended flashback in episode 5 and one major change at the end of the series, it’s practically a page for page translation. 

The main theme that the Dunk and Egg novellas play with is nobility through humility. Ser Duncan the Tall is a hedge knight (knight errant) of no fixed abode or Lord. His squire, Egg, is secretly a member of House Targaryen, and is promised to one day sit up the Iron Throne, despite being 4th in line of succession. Both Dunk and Egg despise seeing nobility using their privilege to hurt the small folk of the Seven Kingdoms, and use their sub-rosa travels through Westeros to right wrongs, sing songs and learn about their country. 

They're both really fun characters. Egg is the dictionary definition of “precious little scamp” while also possessing a royal bearing and great knowledge of the country they travel. Ser Duncan’s strength doesn’t come from his stature but from his humble heart. He’s certainly an ambitious character, dreaming about one day becoming a member of the Kingsguard, something that a lowly hedge knight has never done. But he’s an honest man, a kind man and he might just make it that far... if this weren’t the Song of Ice and Fire Universe, where being a decent person gets you killed. So thank the seven Ser Dunk is also a fucking berserker who has no compulsion about starting and ending fights with assholes. He’s the type of hero I love, noble and honorable and willing to throw hands with the best of them. 

The TV show focuses on the first novella, The Hedge Knight, which pits the newly knighted Ser Duncan against Egg’s older brother, the haughty and vile Aerion. It’s the humble knight with his unlikely retinue of supportive friends vs the power of the Iron throne. It ends in tragedy, with one of the show’s best supporting characters dying.

We’re supposed to get a new season next year and I’m all for it. Peter Claffey as Dunk and Dexter Sol Ansel as Egg carry the show thanks to their chemistry, and the other cast members do well too. Notable standouts being Daniel Ings, Tanzyn Crawford, Bertie Carvel, and Finn Bennett. I really want to see Daniel Ings return, but his character isn’t in the other novellas, so that might not be possible. 

Like I said at the start of this post, The Pitt and Knight of the Seven Kingdoms are stories about side characters. They have their main protagonists, sure, Dr. Robby and Ser Dunk would make for an interesting paring, but the stories these shows tell are not the main stories in their respective worlds.

The Pitt takes place in a world the necessitates but mistreats Healthcare workers because everyone else is just so much more important. Real things happen in the rate race outside of hospitals, and medical professionals are just the pit crew that repairs shattered people and sends them back out into the world. (Yeah, the pit crew analogy isn’t me being clever, it’s said in universe.) Meanwhile, a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms is explicitly a side story to the main Song of Ice and Fire. It’s not an epic, it’s a fun little romp where no major characters from the main story will ever be hurt, and where the true heroes, the silent, noble warriors who go unpraised can finally get their due. 

These respective shows are stories of side characters - the most important people in their respective worlds. Here’s to ‘em. Cheers. 

What I’m reading: 

Bored of the Rings by the Harvard Lampoon (It was a slow week)

Dan Pelzer, Ray Bradbury, and Me

 Last December I stumbled across a lovely article about Dan Pelzer, a man who had kept a list of the 3,599 books he’d read in his lifetime. That list is publicly available in two different formats (pdf) and his website, along with some great information about Dan’s life. 

I bring this up because I realized that I’ve been keeping a similar book list since high school, and it’s actually pretty far along. No, I haven’t read 3,599 books yet, but I up to 816 odd books. I don’t post that number to boast (hell if I wanted to boast I’d go to my parent’s house and scour the shelves for all the books I can remember reading before high school - and from there I’d have to go to my old library and look for all the books I’ve read from *there*.) No, I bring it up because because 1) Dan’s life story is lovely and should be shared and 2) it raises interesting ideas about reading habits. 

Scrolling Dan’s list for books you’ve read is kinda fun, there’s the obvious classics you would expect (ie Sherlock Holmes, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Charles Dickens) but you’ll also find books on a diverse range of subjects form Buddhist theology to the ethics of animal rights to contemporary history. He had his favorite genres of course, mysteries, thrillers and theology were pretty common genres, but he also didn’t seem to care about the perspectives of the books. Conservative, liberal, believing, atheist, Dan read them all. You can wonder why. For my part, I assume Dan had two reasons. 

First, because he was curious about the world, and his library was the best place to learn. I presume he had his own perspectives on the world that guided his decisions after reading, but Dan still took in all the diverse perspectives on the world that he could lay his hands on. From any country, from any religion, from any political system, from any joke available. 

Second, for the pure joy of it. Look at the list and try to understand the order that he chose books to read. Outside of stretches where he was working on a book series or was just on a mystery kick (I sympathize) Dan basically read everything he could get his hands on, nonfiction and fiction alike. I’m reminded of a video where Ray Bradbury addressed a class at Point Loma Nazarene University, encouraging them to read widely on any subject that interests them. He exhorts people to go to the library (or a movie theater for that matter) without prejudice and find anything that speaks to them. One line from Bradbury in particular stands out, “I want your loves to be multiple! I don’t want you to be a snob about anything!” (Check out 15:00 though 18:25 in the video.)

I feel like Dan embodies the spirit of Bradbury’s suggestions, and I can only hope that’s why I read. I look back over the list of books I read, and I think most of my reading during college years were assignments for various literature classes. In the years after that, I can see a development in my reading, going from books I knew to similar books, to related genre books. That’s mostly how I bought books or found them at the library. 

My family has a tradition of giving bookstore gift cards out for Christmas, and this past January I went into a HPB with my card. I had some good finds, all by authors I didn’t know or who were only vaguely familiar. Most of the time I made these selections because the cover was striking and the back cover or inside slips sounded interesting. Three of them were translations from modern French, Italian and Japanese authors. They join a huge TBR pile that I can’t wait to sink into. I wonder if Dan would’ve been interested in them. 

Anyways, last week I mentioned I had read Dante’s Inferno and A Clockwork Orange again. I was going to write about them, but I really couldn’t think of anything interesting enough for a blog post. So, brief thoughts: 

Dante’s Inferno (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow translation.) My sister recommended Longfellow’s translations as it was fairly similar to the Esolen translation she and I had read before, but in her opinion the poetry scanned better. I’m not in any place to comment on that, but I did enjoy this version. To be honest, as profound and beautifully written as Purgatorio and Paradiso are, I’m not surprised most people skip them. Inferno is simply more fun that the other two, and not just for the amount of self-aggrandizement that Dante indulged in. 

A Clockwork Orange. Probably best known for Kubrick’s 1974 adaptation which has more or less shaped the popular understanding of the book. I mean, really, what can I say? Yes, the book still tackles issues of free will, government overreach, juvenile delinquency, systemic failures, communication breakdown between generations, sex and Beethoven, but to be honest I didn’t find the book as profound as when I first read it. My first experience reading the book left me horrified at the violence and sexual assault that the protagonist Alex perpetrates, but what struck me more with this read through was the language. 

Final Word: both good to reread, but I’m eager for something new. 

So what I have I been reading? 

This week I’ve been reading Brandon Sanderson’s massive epic Oathbringer, book three of his Stormlight Archives. I don’t know if I’ll write about that book or just write a general Sanderson appreciation post. We’ll see. 

For my bookclub I read Something Close to Nothing by Tom Pyun, a story about a couple that breaks up right as their surrogate daughter is going to be born. I don’t really know what to say about this one just yet other than it made me laugh and cry alternatively. 

If It Bleeds, a collection of Stephen King’s novellas that was generally pretty good. 

What Am I reading Next? 

Skeletons in the Closet by Jean-Patrick Manchette, a French mystery (thanks New York Review of Books)

Cierce by Madeline Miller

Car Crash Cluster Fuck

I don’t want to get political, but has anyone noticed that humans are kinda fucked up? 

How fucked up are we? Well, we invented boredom and if you tell me you’d need another example, I’ll tell you I don’t believe it. Fine. War, genocide, fascism, chemical weapons and the Olympics, those are pretty fucked up too. But how heinous is manufactured isolation? Can you imagine being so trapped by the rat race or social media that all the things that are supposed to make you feel *anything* numb you instead? Can you imagine being so bored and so lonely with life that you can only find solace in the thrilling, highly erotic rush of a car accident?

No I didn’t just turn over two pages at once. Stay with me. Crash by J G Ballard is a science / transgressive fiction novel about people who are so disaffected by modern society that they turn to vehicular collisions for their erotic thrills. 

(Sit down, you’re not getting out of this that easily. I read the damn thing, you just have to experience it vicariously.)

I’ll be honest, and I won’t live this statement down: I kind of fucks with the premise. People being so far removed from the human experience that they can only feel human connections through extreme actions is an inherently interesting theme, and fair’s fair, Ballard handles it well. When he’s thinking about it, that is. Plot wise, Crash centers on mad scientist Robert Vaughn and his menagerie of violently auto-aroused test subjects who he goads into psychosexual experiments (read; recreations of celebrity car crashes.) I say “goads” loosely, most of his subjects are happy to see how far they can push their arousal. Robert Vaughn has his own fetishes, specifically fantasizes about killing Elizabeth Taylor in a head-on collision where he can orgasm right as they both die. 

(If I didn’t make this clear before, the tone Ballard adopted for this book is blatantly pornographic, and I’m not certain how I feel about that. One the one hand, the book is so gross it completely fails as porn. On the other hand, it’s exploring the boundaries where technology and sexuality meet, so writing it as gross porn makes an obscene amount of sense.)

Yeah. Don’t go looking for a happy ending (hahahahahahaha) in this one. Or for pleasant, redemptive characters, so far as that goes. In his introduction to the book, Ballard commented that he saw the book as a new type of pornography, where technology and human sexuality are pushed to their limits to see if intimacy can survive. Very Black Mirror idea, actually. Loath as I am to agree with an author’s intentions, here’s what I take away from Ballard’s perspective: Technology as an extension of the human body at the cost of intimacy. 

It might be a trite observation, but the boundaries between human sexuality and technology have only thinned over time, the amount of power over ourselves we’ve ceded to said technology has grown. Yeah, most people haven’t fetishized car crashes, but technology is rampant in sexuality now. How often do you use your phone or your computer when you masturbate? Have you ever wondered if someone could hack your phone and film you in intimate moments? How often do you use an app when you want to find a quick fling for the night or do you use an app for long term dating? Do tech companies sell your browsing data? Every so often we hear about social rating apps for desirability in mating (As far as I know this isn’t a real thing, but I seem to recall Meta suggesting it at one point?) Can you log on to your favorite VTuber’s private stream and use your phone to gain control of their vibrator for a small fee? VR porn games exist, do you think people haven’t jacked themselves raw over them? 

No one in Crash experiences intimacy. The narrator and his wife start an open marriage basically because they’re bored with each other and can’t be bothered with a divorce. Yet in all their flings and increasingly dangerous and somehow neither ever find any kind of intimacy. The narrator finds obsession, dominating and daring Dr. Vaughn to kill him in his experiments, but the excitement fades. What’s bleakest about the book is there’s no next thing, no new rush for the characters. They keep holding out for gratification but never find the thing that sets them off. Everyone is more isolated by the end, more numb.

I don’t think technology in a sexual context is inherently a bad thing (I’m thinking of whatever medical technology made penile implants possible, for instance.) but the amount of power we decide tech has in sexuality is a concern I wasn’t really thinking about before reading this book. Now that I am thinking about it... I’m not that comfortable, I won’t lie. 

Are you familiar with the male loneliness epidemic that’s been reported recently? How some studies have shown that while both males and females are increasingly feeling lonely and isolated, young males in particular seem to be having a worse time? (FYI, Male Loneliness apparently is a contested issue, and I don’t know how reliable these studies are. For this post, I'm working with the concern that people of all genders are feeling isolated from each other at record rates.) I think of this epidemic level loneliness, and I think of the ways technology grifters and conspiracy theorists give lonely people purposes - frequently towards dangerous ends. ‘Join the cause and you wont be alone’ type of deal? And once the cause has chewed lonely people up and spat them back out while the grifters who pulled them in walk away unscathed? 

Robert Vaughn in Crash is that type of grifter. He’s the only one who benefits, and yeah, he dies, but he dies gratifying his desires. Everyone else is left alone. They’ve crashed, but they haven’t climaxed. They’re left with the same desire they always had, with no outlet for their tension. 

To go back to my original question, yes I can imagine a world where extreme technologies drive us to wild new forms of sexual experimentation. I can also imagine the aftermath. Sticky and gross with more to clean up. 

So, good on J G Ballard for making me think about sex in a new and disturbing way. Did I like his book? No... Do I recommend Crash? Heavily qualified yes... but only if you’re willing to put up with some truly stomach churning pieces of writing. Yeah this book is gross, beyond body horror, and that’s probably why it was so controversial. As I said, it’s basically porn, but written in a really clinical tone with scatological language that’s pretty revolting at times. One of my friends described it as a ‘clusterfuck’ while we discussed it, and it literally is a clusterfuck. I’d say read it if you’re interested, but don’t blame me if you get the wrong kind of thrill when you step into your car next.

Anyways, I just finished reading Dante's Inferno and A Clockwork Orange, so hopefully we'll have something a little more lighthearted next post.   

(PS, in 1996 Crash was turned into a movie by - who else - David Cronenberg. I haven’t seen it, but reportedly it focuses more on the connection between sex and death than sex and technology. I mean fair enough. Sex and death is certainly a theme of the book, but one I admit wasn’t as interesting to me.)

Trying Something New

So. 

I've often thought about inflicting the hazardous wastes that exist inside my head on the outside world, but I've wanted to spew it on my own terms, if that makes sense. "So join social media" they said. Uh ... no. 

I'm not a fan of pushing my thoughts out one bite sized chunk at a time a la Twitter or bsky and I really can't be bothered to document my life one picture at a time a la FB or Insta.  (Yes, I have social media accounts but that's beside the point.) So here's my grim compromise. 

Imma start writing down what I think about books, movies, TV, games, yeah yeah yeah, you all know the drill. I'll say it up front, I don't have anything special to differentiate this place from all the other internet diaries you can find. I'm just another lonely voice in the wilderness of voices, hoping that I luck into big audience of like-minded weirdos who share my sense of humor - or at least find my tastes in literature interesting.  

'Cause I hope that's mostly what I'm going to be writing about. I read a good deal (thanks audiobooks) and I keep hoping that I can build a career as a fiction writer. As I work on that, I'm hoping I can finally make some use of my English minor (and BA in Journalism) by using this blog as a vehicle for my critical opinions.  

Outside of said BA, I don't have any credentials that make me a critic so I'm going to have to make myself one. So, until I start reading books on textual criticism or semiotics, or on film and literary criticism, please note that most of what I write will be of the "I like this because of X" school of criticism. Also, I'm hoping I can post at least every week, and more frequently if I can.  

Anyhoo... 

I'm working on a post about the book I just finished, Crash by J G Ballard. Hooooooooooooo boy that's a hell of a first thing to write about. If you know, you know. If you don't... you'll find out. From me. 

I'm Currently: 

• Reading: 
• Something Close to Nothing by Tom Pyun 
• A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess
• Watching: 
• Fallout S 1 (Amazon Prime)
• Playing 
• Cyberpunk 2077 (CD Prokekt Red, on pc, Steam)

I want to _____ next:

• Read
• The Inferno by Dante Alighieti, Henry Longfellow's Translation
• Oathbreaker by Brandon Sanderson
• Watch 
• Fallout S 2 (Amazon Prime)
• Iron Lung
• Code3  
• Play: 
• The Stanley Parable (Galactic Cafe, on pc, Steam)