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Dizzying Intellect » 2004» February

Suffering, etc

Ok, I went to see it. I wasn’t going to, because, well, I know how it ends. But I just don’t have the heart to do the “I haven’t seen it, but…” thing. No offense intended to those who can.

It’s good. I mean, it’s painful, but it’s well done. The casting is superb. You already know it’s violent, so I won’t harp on that too much. I actually flinched twice in the scourging scene, which is saying a lot. I subscribe to the Bart Simpson school of violent film theory, and I still felt like I was going to get splashed.

I would definitely not call it anti-Semitic. I mean, it’s set in Jerusalem. Are there going to not be Jews in it? That’d be like setting it in Anchorage and calling it anti-Alaskan. The only people who give him any help or sympathy at all are Jews. My theory before I saw it, which I still believe, is that the majority of new anti-Semitic feeling generated by this (which is to say, those who weren’t already Jew-haters), is going to be owned by people who can’t be bothered to sit through a long movie with subtitles, but know the Jews killed Yeshua because they said so on Entertainment Tonight.

I loved that the Aramaic was translated, but the Romans just rambled on incoherently. That looks sarcastic, but it isn’t. It’s totally obvious what they’re saying, but the fact that it isn’t translated actually helps with both the sympathy and the suspension of disbelief. I saw a WWII film set in the Ukraine once, where the Ukrainians spoke English but the Germans spoke German. Same deal.

I’m pleased with the treatment of the “curtain of the sky was rent in two” thing. No one has ever sufficiently explained to me what that was supposed to mean, and I fully expected it to be just a thunderstorm.

I didn’t think the miracles were understated at all. It’s understood upon buying your ticket that this guy is supposed to be the son of god. The scene with Malchus was enough to prove that he’s not a nutjob, and any more like that would have been tacky. Personal opinion. I did think the scene where they flipped the cross over was a very nice touch, however.

The devil following Yeshua around was a little weird, but I think I understand why it was done. It’s pre-redemption: everyone goes to hell at this point. Before the resurrection, he did descend into hell for three days. He knew this was going to happen, he knew that every time he opened his mouth he was bringing it a step closer, and he knew that if he guessed wrong and/or was foresaken, he was going to stay there forever. That’s beyond a moment of doubt. That’s the devil actually knowing that he’s going to get a forkful of the good guy, and hanging around to rub it in. The scene on the Via Dolorosa is especially confusing, but I approve of the concept, because there was no other way of expressing it…

Incidentally, I’m sensing — from the number of reviews complaining about the lack of miracles and earlier storylines — some confusion about the word “passion.” This isn’t, like, a passion for living, or a passion for truth, or being a passionate person, or anything else about love or strong feelings. It’s just an archaic word for crucifixion. From the latin “passio,” which means “to suffer.” I doubt any of the people who don’t know that would end up here, but I felt I should mention it, just in case…

(I was going to try to keep this shorter than the book. I can see I’ve failed. And there’s a 75% chance of it getting longer as I realize what I left out…)

(And I still think this is by far the best related blog entry I’ve seen yet.)

George is now at the movie theatre…

I found my first

12 to 15 years?

*shriek!*

Not at all how I pictured it, but I’m ok with that…

(via Scott)

Update: I should add an extra *shriek* for the amazing folks at Los Alamos who are doing this research and planning free of charge, in their spare time. Thank you, from those of us that dream of it.

My Tarot Cards

I totally forgot to post this. David did my tarot card reading last week. He doesn’t know me or read this blog, and I think he did a great job. I have no issues with being both skeptical and pleased and baffled at the same time (in fact, that pretty much describes my natural state), and I certainly know how much I don’t know, so I love things like this.

I’m leaving out my responses, because you don’t really need to know that much about my damaged psyche. And I’m also leaving out a postscript from him that I think was very astute and correct, but which will hurt someone I care about, who may read this, if I include it.

Without further ado, the reading:

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delinking

Hook is one of my favorite movies. Michele has it on her list of 20 worst. Tracy has never even seen The Quiet Man. I’m afraid I can no longer be friends with either of you. This will continue until the entire Blogosphere is weeded. So you’d better hope you’ve never criticized The Princess Bride, because you are gone.

If you delink people, multiple people, over a movie, you’ll have to understand if I point at you and laugh derisively. Let us know when you get to the exit for Grownupville. It’s a fucking movie.

More Weddings

Yay, New Paltz!

That’s right up the street from my hometown. I wonder if anyone I know got married…

So you can get away with something in court?

“We applied for spousal privilege and were denied it by the state. As a result, everything that I said to Kelli, every letter that I wrote her, every e-mail, every correspondence and conversation was entered into the record,” O’Donnell said. “After the trial, I am now and will forever be a total proponent of gay marriage.”

Ok, far be it for me, of all people, to mix up politics and freedom with a purely romantic notion… but that is so the wrong reason to get married.

Poor poor pitiful me

[whine]

I just got home from work, and now I have to go to a dinner for work. My brain is fried, I don’t like networking, and now I have to be charming too?

My two favorite people won’t be there, because they’re both being canned, so I’m not going to have anyone to talk to.

I want to crawl into bed an d sleep for twelve hours, but I can’t.

And tomorrow we’re all at a user conference all day, which means more socializing with strangers.

I was already late for dinner by the time I got home.

And my boss winces when I even say Guinness, so I know I can’t have one.

[/whine]

Ok, I’m going. I’m going.

The internet is full.

ACHTUNG!

Alles touristen und non-technischen lookenspeepers!

Das Internet ist nicht fuer gefingerclicken und codengrabben. Ist easy droppenpacket der routers und overloaden der backbone mit der spammen und der me-tooen. Ist nicht fuer gewerken bei das dumpkopfen. Das mausklicken sichtseeren keepen das bandwit-spewen hans in das pockets muss; Rubbernekken und trollisch volke relaxen und watchen das giffenblinken.

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The need for speed

So I’m sitting at home last night, sprawled out on the couch, drinking a beer, and watching American Idol, and my Palm Pilot goes off. I wait for the break, and then get up to check it, with absolutely no idea what it could be. I open up the case and there it is, in all its glowing horror. “Speed dating. 8:30pm”

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