Not So Much the Sense Making
Yes, today I would like to write about a couple things that make my brain "wtf?!" a little.
To begin with, that movie The Natural with Robert Redford. I just watched it and basically spent most of the movie thinking, "Wait, what?!" For those of you who haven't seen it (and might possibly at some point, and would be angry with me for telling you the end) SPOILER ALERT!
So, the plot of The Natural is as follows, and bear with me here. There's a guy named Roy Hobbs, who's the most naturally talented baseball player ever. He grew up on a farm and now he's going to Chicago to play in the major leagues. On the train to Chicago, he meets a lady who semi-seduces him. When he gets to Chicago, she phones him in his hotel room and asks him to come to her room, so she can show him around the city (very very suspicious, that). He goes to her room, only to find her wearing some ridiculous veil thing and a very scanty dress and she shoots him (in the arm, I originally thought). Wait, what?! Why did that just happen? I don't get it! Why would she randomly shoot him? And not actually kill him! Okay, maybe it'll make more sense later. Cut to 16 years later, Roy Hobbs looking exactly like he did at the beginning. Wait, What? He goes to play major league ball in New York (with a fictional team called the New York knights). The manager, Pop, is feuding with the majority stockholder, Judge. Judge has been making bad trades, making the Knights suck. Now he and Pop have a deal. If Pop can manage the Knights to a pennant victory, he can buy back the shares from Judge. So, obviously, Judge doesn't want the Knights to win the pennant. Got that? Good, it's important later. At first, Pop refuses to play Roy at all and he doesn't even let him take batting practice. When he finally lets Roy take a swing, it of course turns out that Roy hits a home run on every pitch. And in his first major league at bat, he literally knocks the cover off the ball. Wait, what? That's not baseball!!! That's not even possible!!!!So, Roy becomes golden boy and the Knights start a winning streak. Then Roy starts a little something-something with Pop's niece (I have no idea what her name is, so we shall call her Niece-Girl) who already has a relationship with a bookie named Gus. With me so far? Good. There's more. Apparently, via some magical karmic disturbance, as soon as Roy gets involved with Niece-Girl, he stops hitting. Instead, he is now striking out on three pitches, every single at bat. Wait, what?! Once again with the not-baseball-absolutes! Then, when on a road trip to Chicago, he sees his teenage sweetheart in the stands, and (of course) immediately pulls out of his slump and hits a game winning homer. So then he goes to see his old flame, and she invites him over to her house. (Her name is Iris, by the way) There, she tells him that while she is not married, she does have a son. Who doesn't know his father. Who's father lives in New York. Who's at the age where he needs a father. HINT HINT FUCKING HINT! (Why are we adding more plot complications?!!!) But Roy doesn't get it and he has to leave. More complications that I don't even remember (keep in mind I finished this movie about 15 minutes ago) ensue. He starts to pull away from Niece-Girl a little, which worries her, since she's apparently in league with Gus the bookie and Judge to try and stop Roy from playing good baseball, thereby preventing the Knights from winning the pennant. More stuff happens. Niece-Girl poisons Roy at a party. Wait, what?! Where exactly did that come from? He is rushed to hospital and it is discovered that the silver bullet the nasty-seductive-gun-lady shot him with 16 years ago (wait, it was silver?) has been lodged in his stomach all this time, wearing away at the lining (but I thought he got shot in the arm). HOLY CRAP, WHAT IS GOING ON?! So he can't play baseball. And by now the Knights are in the playoffs. Finally, after a hospital bed visit from Iris, he gets to play in game seven. He strikes out all his at bats, until the ninth inning. Iris sends a note down to the dugout via some guard type people. It tells Roy (we assume) that her son is actually THEIR son. So then Roy goes out and hits a game winning homer, which hits the light tower and shorts out all the lights and thus causes fireworks (electrical engineering, question mark), even though he is bleeding through his shirt on his left side (medical science, question mark). The Knights win the pennant, yay. Cut to a field somewhere in the Midwest (near Roy's hometown) with Roy and his teenaged son playing catch while Iris watches. Fin.
Yipes! I didn't even realize how long that was until I scrolled up. It's a very complicated movie. And it makes a startlingly small amount of sense. I'm not sure quite what I think of it. I mean, Shakespeare is comparatively simple, when placed alongside The Natural.
The next confusing thing is math. How is it that I can look at a geometry problem and understand all the hard stuff and derive all the correct measurements, and yet my answer (which was found using simple arithmetic and algebraic substitution) reflects these measurements and this comprehension in no way whatsoever? I DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!!! I swear, I have no idea where my answers come from. Fucking Mars, or something.
Speaking of Shakespeare (who is not all that confusing), I'm finally realizing a long-time dream of mine: writing a play in the style of Shakespeare. It's been a great year, literary creativity-wise. I wrote my first sonnet this year too, and loved it. So now, struggling with blank verse (and after having wrestled iambic pentameter to the floor), I have discovered new depths of respect for good ol' Billy. I mean, look at the line "My master, not myself, lacks recompense" from Twelfth Night (I love that play so much). It makes complete sense, and you just kind of let it go. But, if you look at it AGAIN, you realize that WAIT A MINUTE, THAT'S PERFECT IAMBIC METER!!!!!! Contrastingly, it took me a good hour or so to thrash out the desperately flawed line "On thee, my lord, may I bestow those accolades of which certain thou worthy be. In this, thy most triumphal hour of office sure secured, much honor owe I thee." It has it's strong points...but it's not Shakespeare. It truth, though, that's not really fair. Shakespeare had the advantage of living in a time period with much better vocabulary. And don't even get me started on Milton. *heartthrob*
I think I've babbled at you enough. Plus it's my time to sleep, seeing as I am ridiculously busy this weekend. Toodles!
To begin with, that movie The Natural with Robert Redford. I just watched it and basically spent most of the movie thinking, "Wait, what?!" For those of you who haven't seen it (and might possibly at some point, and would be angry with me for telling you the end) SPOILER ALERT!
So, the plot of The Natural is as follows, and bear with me here. There's a guy named Roy Hobbs, who's the most naturally talented baseball player ever. He grew up on a farm and now he's going to Chicago to play in the major leagues. On the train to Chicago, he meets a lady who semi-seduces him. When he gets to Chicago, she phones him in his hotel room and asks him to come to her room, so she can show him around the city (very very suspicious, that). He goes to her room, only to find her wearing some ridiculous veil thing and a very scanty dress and she shoots him (in the arm, I originally thought). Wait, what?! Why did that just happen? I don't get it! Why would she randomly shoot him? And not actually kill him! Okay, maybe it'll make more sense later. Cut to 16 years later, Roy Hobbs looking exactly like he did at the beginning. Wait, What? He goes to play major league ball in New York (with a fictional team called the New York knights). The manager, Pop, is feuding with the majority stockholder, Judge. Judge has been making bad trades, making the Knights suck. Now he and Pop have a deal. If Pop can manage the Knights to a pennant victory, he can buy back the shares from Judge. So, obviously, Judge doesn't want the Knights to win the pennant. Got that? Good, it's important later. At first, Pop refuses to play Roy at all and he doesn't even let him take batting practice. When he finally lets Roy take a swing, it of course turns out that Roy hits a home run on every pitch. And in his first major league at bat, he literally knocks the cover off the ball. Wait, what? That's not baseball!!! That's not even possible!!!!So, Roy becomes golden boy and the Knights start a winning streak. Then Roy starts a little something-something with Pop's niece (I have no idea what her name is, so we shall call her Niece-Girl) who already has a relationship with a bookie named Gus. With me so far? Good. There's more. Apparently, via some magical karmic disturbance, as soon as Roy gets involved with Niece-Girl, he stops hitting. Instead, he is now striking out on three pitches, every single at bat. Wait, what?! Once again with the not-baseball-absolutes! Then, when on a road trip to Chicago, he sees his teenage sweetheart in the stands, and (of course) immediately pulls out of his slump and hits a game winning homer. So then he goes to see his old flame, and she invites him over to her house. (Her name is Iris, by the way) There, she tells him that while she is not married, she does have a son. Who doesn't know his father. Who's father lives in New York. Who's at the age where he needs a father. HINT HINT FUCKING HINT! (Why are we adding more plot complications?!!!) But Roy doesn't get it and he has to leave. More complications that I don't even remember (keep in mind I finished this movie about 15 minutes ago) ensue. He starts to pull away from Niece-Girl a little, which worries her, since she's apparently in league with Gus the bookie and Judge to try and stop Roy from playing good baseball, thereby preventing the Knights from winning the pennant. More stuff happens. Niece-Girl poisons Roy at a party. Wait, what?! Where exactly did that come from? He is rushed to hospital and it is discovered that the silver bullet the nasty-seductive-gun-lady shot him with 16 years ago (wait, it was silver?) has been lodged in his stomach all this time, wearing away at the lining (but I thought he got shot in the arm). HOLY CRAP, WHAT IS GOING ON?! So he can't play baseball. And by now the Knights are in the playoffs. Finally, after a hospital bed visit from Iris, he gets to play in game seven. He strikes out all his at bats, until the ninth inning. Iris sends a note down to the dugout via some guard type people. It tells Roy (we assume) that her son is actually THEIR son. So then Roy goes out and hits a game winning homer, which hits the light tower and shorts out all the lights and thus causes fireworks (electrical engineering, question mark), even though he is bleeding through his shirt on his left side (medical science, question mark). The Knights win the pennant, yay. Cut to a field somewhere in the Midwest (near Roy's hometown) with Roy and his teenaged son playing catch while Iris watches. Fin.
Yipes! I didn't even realize how long that was until I scrolled up. It's a very complicated movie. And it makes a startlingly small amount of sense. I'm not sure quite what I think of it. I mean, Shakespeare is comparatively simple, when placed alongside The Natural.
The next confusing thing is math. How is it that I can look at a geometry problem and understand all the hard stuff and derive all the correct measurements, and yet my answer (which was found using simple arithmetic and algebraic substitution) reflects these measurements and this comprehension in no way whatsoever? I DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!!! I swear, I have no idea where my answers come from. Fucking Mars, or something.
Speaking of Shakespeare (who is not all that confusing), I'm finally realizing a long-time dream of mine: writing a play in the style of Shakespeare. It's been a great year, literary creativity-wise. I wrote my first sonnet this year too, and loved it. So now, struggling with blank verse (and after having wrestled iambic pentameter to the floor), I have discovered new depths of respect for good ol' Billy. I mean, look at the line "My master, not myself, lacks recompense" from Twelfth Night (I love that play so much). It makes complete sense, and you just kind of let it go. But, if you look at it AGAIN, you realize that WAIT A MINUTE, THAT'S PERFECT IAMBIC METER!!!!!! Contrastingly, it took me a good hour or so to thrash out the desperately flawed line "On thee, my lord, may I bestow those accolades of which certain thou worthy be. In this, thy most triumphal hour of office sure secured, much honor owe I thee." It has it's strong points...but it's not Shakespeare. It truth, though, that's not really fair. Shakespeare had the advantage of living in a time period with much better vocabulary. And don't even get me started on Milton. *heartthrob*
I think I've babbled at you enough. Plus it's my time to sleep, seeing as I am ridiculously busy this weekend. Toodles!