Heroic measures

Hercules: husband, hero & hunk. He fought against the seemingly impossible, supported by his loyal half-sister and somewhat estranged father. He endured his father's jealous wife and came out on top. He suffered a serious Hades-induced overdose but still managed to make his way back and have everything come up roses.

Today, he would be endorsing a footwear line, designer watch and carbonated drink. The Meg 'incident' is conveniently spun and Herc becomes nothing short of an international hero.

Wait a minute, wait a minute, let's go back just a little. What got him into the mess to begin with? And why are we so quick to forgive his actions? His winning smile, bulging biceps and apparent suffering have made our hearts melt. The Brad Pitt of ancient Greece. After having forsaken (and accidentally (?) murdered) his woman, Meg, he wins the hearts of the masses with nothing more than some good PR. Highlight his achievements: Hercules, strong and loyal. Brad, supportive and doting.

But what of our favorite friend? Swept underneath the rug, this damsel in distress is unfairly forgotten--nothing more than an inconvenient skeleton in the closet. Left to sit in an old book on a dusty shelf somewhere, merely an afterthought. Shuffled to the last pages of US Weekly. Jen and Meg are conveniently diminished, while Herc and Brad adorn the covers. When will Meg get the attention and sympathy she deserves? Or will directing sympathy at her make us love Herc just a little less?

As a staunch supporter of Jen, I can't help but take Meg's side. How can a man who slaughtered his wife and kids have made it to the ranks of hero, and one of the greatest no less? His lawyers sorted the whole thing out, "We'll plead insanity" they told Herc reassuringly. "Don't worry about a thing, with your winning smile and that just-got-out-of-bed hair, the media will eat the whole thing up." The jury must have bought it too, hook, line and sinker. Poor Paris (Hilton, not Troy), if only she had hired Herc's attorneys.

And what of retribution??? Forget rehab, leave Promises and Wonderland behind; only Eurystheus will really bring you back. A custom twelve-step program is the new "I'm sorry". If only Britney and Lindsay had known.

So is there any hope for Meg? Doesn't she deserve just a little more recognition, even if it is at the expense of the man-of-the-moment? Sadly, Meg has bad PR. No press releases worth being picked up, nor newsworthy scandals surrounding her. Sure, her murder was tragic, but where's the blockbuster in that? And the murder of her children? That would never pass the PG 13 censors ratings.

What Meg really needs is a little sneaky PR of her own: an underground grassroots movement. 'Free Paris' and 'Team Aniston', move over, 'Save Meg' is where it's gonna be at.



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ingredients and frames

I've been doing a lot of thinking about cake (and baked goods in general) and pondering the phenomenon that I've been taking for granted. By combining a series of ingredients which look nothing like a finished cake, I end up with a just that! It's like magic.

How can a thing be defined as the sum of its parts if when separated they contain no hint of the final product? a slice of cake looks nothing like an egg, cup of flour or spoonful of sugar. And what about environmental factors? The heat from the oven makes the cake rise, giving it that lovely golden glow.

The big picture; more than just a sum of its frames. Each slightly altered from the one before, there is little or no semblance from the final feature length product.

How do we define things? What makes something what it is? And isn't whatever you are considering or looking at itself a part of a greater thing, rendering it in itself a part of a sum of parts?

Coming Soon to a Theatre Near You

It's been a while since I wrote my last post, and wanted to squeeze a last one in, especially it being the shortest month of the year (which does have its upside as it means I'll be getting paid sooner...) It’s been an odd few days. Consumed with sleep, I've been battling with my internal clock but not matter how early I go to bed, my body refuses to be awake at 7:30 am. And can you blame it???

So having been wrapped up in the world of movies lately (I blame the Oscars) I can't help but wonder about happy endings. Apart from the masochistic, narcissistic few out there (you know who you are), we pile all our efforts into achieving just that, thinking that we want a happy ending, but do we really?

In a movie, and let's look at the most basic structure of a romantic comedy, we are led to believe that everything past the closing credits and the sappy crooning is rainbows and sunshine and babies. There is a suggestion that nothing of real significance happens past this point of bliss. This often involves a wedding dress and/or a bun in the oven, with someone who was a stranger approximately 92 minutes earlier (and anything longer than that automatically prompts most thinking intelligent beings subjected to the story into a deep and well-deserved slumber).

Many of us have started to view our lives as our own little (or big) movie, probably thanks to the ubiquitous 'biographies' out there. We experience our highs and lows to a soundtrack and carefully consider who we believe our supporting actors to be. We dramatize insignificant events, and tell each other what happened to us today, each from our own heroic perspective. We mentally edit the teaser, the trailer and the montages over and over, wondering if we've captured the mood and the moment. We take make-up and wardrobe seriously, and exert insurmountable efforts to remain in character. But most of all, we worry about the ending. We think about labels, choosing between Cinderella story and war-time epic, or perhaps an open-ended mystery? We wonder which would make the most exciting feature, not wanting to end up as a short. Most importantly, we shy away from the scariest genre of them all: Documentary. What nobody ever wants to see is the real truth.

But when I think about endings; happy, tragic or ambiguous, I do not worry. I know that the ending of one story is the beginning, or perhaps middle, of another. I like to believe in the prospect of a sequel for my story and my life. Or several, for that matter. A happy ending simply won't cut it.