Somebody get that man a cough drop.

I finally saw The Dark Knight, and wasn't disappointed.

I was struck, however, by the poverty of dialogue quality throughout the feature. The film as a whole was intelligently structured, played well with the tropes of "heist" and "serial killer" and featured one of the best villains of the decade. Perhaps it is only in contrast to Ledger's Joker that the rest of the characters fall so flat, their internal conflicts situational at best.

Ok, I take it back a little. Gary Oldman did his job well. And Aaron Eckhart's Dent is two-dimensional by design. But all of the best lines were reserved for the Joker. The rest of TDK was populated with cliche after cliche: "Have a nice trip, see you next fall," "I didn't sign up for this," "No more dead cops." And of course, the plain-vanilla female love interest is grossly insufficient to satisfy Bechdel's Rule (but that's not why we go to Batman movies anyway).

I was left with the sense that TDK is a Good, even Very Good superhero movie with a lot of unfulfilled potential. Perhaps more nuance would have edged TDK away from Summer Blockbuster and further into Psychological Thriller territory. However, this would risk alienating some viewers and scaring the living shit out of ten year olds - the Batman franchise target market. Can't have that.

I would love to see Ledger get an Oscar nod. He brought the Sociopath A-game as well as Kevin Spacey in Se7en or Anthony Hopkins in Silence. But I still think Batman Begins was a better movie.

Rand and I also felt compelled to ponder: in a showdown of billionaire playboys, who would win? Iron Man or Batman?

Our conclusion - Bruce Wayne would totally own Tony Stark with his killer martial arts skills out of costume. However, the Iron Man armor would repulsor-beam Batman into a fine grey-and-yellow mist.

Stripes

A brief photo roundup of the past couple of months.


No, I am not dead.


If I haven't returned your calls, it doesn't mean I don't love you. I don't even return my mother's calls and trust me - I love her more than I love you. And I love you a lot.


Lately, I've been working on: building a computational model of the basal nuclei, mesencephalic locomotor region and spinal pattern generator (computational neuroscience fun), mastering the Rubik's Cube (puzzle fun) and - of course - securing financial aid for my final semester of graduate study (bureaucracy fun).


MS students, in a university environment, are sort of non-persons. PhD students have their funding taken care of as a matter of course - the number of spots in any given program is based on fellowship earmarks. I am left to my own devices to find funding. So it goes.

It's fine. There's a plan in place. But occasionally, when the award letters are slow in coming, or when random checks bounce during a bank rush (who knew?) Maslow's Hierarchy takes over.

My life becomes a slow stream of tending to basic necessities: food, stimulants, video games. Research becomes an afterthought. I can't deal with academic personnel until I become certain that I'm subjecting myself to their direction toward a tangible goal. Instead, I focus on the day-to-day necessities.

Will I be able to enroll this semester? Should I find a real job to pay my outstanding tuition? Will my transcripts be sent to the AMCAS in a timely manner? Should I get up already, it's past noon? Will I be able to level up if I capture the bandit seeress? These are the questions that needle me.

For all of these reasons, it's been kind of a shitty summer. The brightest spot was seeing Savannah, who is a joy and a wonder and an inspiration to me. Without going into detail - the turmoil that kid has endured with her sanity intact is a source of both shame and pride. I am sorry our family has behaved so poorly. I am proud of her that she is so smart and centered that she will be fine anyway. When I think of her, I feel like a big whiner sometimes, because she is almost half my age and has had it far worse than I, yet she never complains.

But what is the point of a weblog if not to vent one's spleen?

The other high point in the summer was my GPA. Which just goes to show how little I actually did.

Possibly the lowest point was when Rand went to Burning Man, and I chose to stay home. I'm not sure why. In theory, I didn't want to deal with the stress and the expense. But the reality was, for the entire time he was gone I chain smoked and drank too much and didn't get anything done and therefore might as well have gone anyway.

Here is a picture of me with funny hair, which I figure I should get out of my system before I am called upon to comfort patients at their bedside.

Possibly the best thing I got out of not going to The Burn was making new friends at The Brewery, with whom I promptly lost touch. Next time, I will remember to get business cards. Have I mentioned I'm a little lonely? I guess that's a post for another time.


In conclusion, I don't know where the summer went, I don't know where the fuck time is going, I'm scarcely getting my momentum back and dogknows where I'll be in a year. I would like to stay at USC, but the medical school application process is cutthroat, dreary and expensive - so anything can happen. I try not to get too attached to given outcomes.

Also, there exists a possibility I'll be taking up residence in an additional internet outlet soon, and I'll let you know how that develops.


I can do a side in ten seconds, bitches, and I've only been at it for four days.

Obligatory August Entry

Rand came home from Burning Man early!

He surprised me on Thursday night. I even had a leftover pork chop for him, hot off the grill, and peaches for dessert.

I wish I could say that I sprained my neck in the throes of intense homecoming passion. But that would be a lie. I sprained it YAWNING.

This morning, I stretched and sprawled and rolled my head back just so - whereupon I heard a POP and immediately felt intense pain at the caudal and rostral ends of my left splenius capitis. No weird tinglies - just point pain and limited range of motion. Ice was applied, ibuprofin consumed - all this within 10 minutes of awakening. Ain't that a bitch?

I lounged on the couch with a parade of frozen goods while Rand decompressed like a champ - fixing the broken screen door, getting me breakfast (and later scotch), doing dishes, and making the home livable, Which I fully intended to do before he got home! But like I say, he stealthed up on me. Although I like to pretend I'm totally fine and independent without him, this is also a filthy lie. Despite my staunch feminist upbringing, I melt down into a puddle of sad without my husband. This fish needs a fucking bicycle, ok? A very specific, tall, handsome bycicle. Shut up.

In other news, if you haven't watched Iron Man yet, do so. It rules. For as much of a fangirl as I am, and have been for years, I have never read Iron Man. I was very ignorant of all but the most fundamental mythology going in. I guess I was never too interested because I think of the "billionaire playboy" as a trope that's easy to fall back on (how else do you pay for all that superhero gear?). But I'm happy to say the story, the characters, the effects and the social relevance all were a pleasant surprise. Especially after Spider Man III (aka The Worst Movie In The History of Ever). And X-Men III (shudder). I was a little disappointed in Marvel's recent movie offerings and I'm glad to see they've gotten their act together.

One of the things I liked most about Batman Begins was learning how Bruce Wayne creates/commisions all of his "wondrful toys." You know, you just render a sketch and then place a bulk plastic order from your chinese subaffiliates. How does Tony Stark do it? He engineers his shit with MIT wunderkind skillz and then welds it with his bare hands, bitches.

The green fairy.

We had absinthe tonight.

I love living in the future.

Today, I was able to go online and, via MIT Open Courseware and Itunes U, download an entire semester's worth of lectures by the guy who wrote the textbook I'm using.


Yes, I know. Massive nerd.

Gratitude

I got some real exercise yesterday, and the day before. It had been a long time.

So long, that I had forgotten the benefits. I experienced such a pervasive sense of well-being that even my dreams were delightful.

I slept so well, and in the course of my sleep encountered three dear friends, all in the same compound where they live (although in one brief episode there was a beach - don't ask). Effectively, I hung out with my buddies all night. We told jokes, and laid deep wisdom on each other, and made plans to see each other again. It was a departure from the convoluted not-quite-nightmares I have had lately with their subtle wrongnesses that defy morning retrospection.

I remember awakening early in the morning, while it was still dark, and feeling first: surprise. I have had dreams that I remember, and that made me feel wonderful. Next I felt gratitude: that the dreams that gave me such a good feeling so closely mirror my reality.

I rolled over and went back to sleep. Then in the morning, I dreamt about my husband...