Just Past Mad Men O'Clock

[handful_ofdust]

Interesting weekend, for certain values of such. On Saturday we ran errands, mainly successful, until Mom was supposed to take Cal overnight so that we could go see Devil. Got him over there and all seemed in order, up until he started holding his side and moaning as though highly constipated. I said: "Do you have to go poo?" "Pee," he said, which is the first time I can recall him using the word. We put him on the toilet, but nothing happened; he was bent over, making hooting, slightly shrieky sounds, cheek pillowed on Mom's knees. Eventually, I put a diaper on him, moved him to her bed and stayed with him, turning off the lights. His eyes began to close, though he still hooted intermittently. Half an hour later he was deeply, deeply asleep.

Mom didn't like the idea that the only theatre we could go to was in a dead zone, so we ended up just eating out, going home and working. In the morning, after eleven solid hours, he woke up fine, chirpy, crazy. Stayed that way all day, then went to bed at 8:00 PM and was asleep within half an hour, diapered again. Massive poo-splosion in his sleep, like I thought would happen--we changed him, he didn't wake up, everything's "good".

Upsetting, obviously--though I was happy to see that this time, unlike most previous times something similar has happened, he didn't lose his language completely--we'd ask him questions and he was able to answer "No" like he was actually listening, as opposed to the usual "Oh no oh no oh no!"/I just don't want to talk or think about it-type B.S. I also managed to teach him to say "I'm full, Mommy", as a variant for his annoying habit of pushing food he doesn't want imperiously away; some things are ridiculously easy to get across, especially if he treats them like a game. (Most recent example of this, which we're now trying hard to UN-teach him, is his not-so-cute habit of yanking at my breasts and imitating me saying: "Don't grab my boobs!")

But yeah: He's six years old, and when you ask him to describe what's going on with him, he simply can't. And the fact that he has a hyposensitively high tolerance for pain isn't really a help, in this particular instance, because it makes the fact that he's acting like he's in pain exaggeratedly traumatic--you think: "Oh my God, it must really be awful!" Still, when he can go to sleep anyhow, that's pretty much the No Sick Kids' Visit Necessary seal of approval. I'll tell the ladies about it at Surrey Place tomorrow, see what they think it might have been.

Meanwhile, since he was still none the worse for wear by noon, we were able to go see the first Sunday showing of Devil, so that was good. Short story: I liked it. Slightly clumsy script, interesting idea, well-executed--it's fast-paced, twisty, nicely logical. And yes, very Christian, so if you have a problem with that, then stay the fuck away. It's called Devil, after all.

Finally, my CZP Speculations blog-post is up, here (http://chiseries.blogspot.com/2010/09/queering-my-genre.html). Looks pretty good, if I dare say so myself; enjoy. It's been a (literally) crappy weekend, and I'm going to bed.

Comments

[intertribal.livejournal.com]

Just read your Speculations blog-post - I completely agree. I think that ties into something I've been thinking about: that in horror, it's easier to avoid Mary Sue/Gary Stu cliches (or rather, the general idea of unhurtable boy-heroes, etc.). I like that no one is safe, and everyone can die. Like Abbie says in Law & Order, "No deals for anybody. Let's hang 'em all."

Also on the awesomeness of "In The Hills, The Cities."

[handful-ofdust.livejournal.com]

I always remember Bernard Rose (who directed Candyman and Paperhouse) saying that what he loved most about horror was that it gave you license and justification to kill your entire cast. Sometimes that's a hard row to hoe, though--it can become extremely knee-jerk, as much so as the "default re-sets, everything's okay!" opposite. I'm personally in favour of justice rather than mercy, but also not in favour of rocks fall, everybody dies.

Representation is interesting, because it can so easily be twisted into "oh, this thing happens to this one person with these characteristics, so therefore you think it should happen to all people with these characteristics." It took me a while to figure out that Mick and Judd in "In the Hills..." were as much a parody/cliche of typical 1980s gay coupledom as any het Brand-and-Janet couple of a previous era; Judd's the ponderous right-wing business-suit bear, over-invested in his fetishized masculinity, while Mick plays the "fluttery", liberal arts twink, partly because it feeds into the attraction that keeps them together even though they don't have much in common. Given time, they might grown out of it or out of each other--but they don't have time, and they don't know it.

Still, what I like is that while Barkers' playing with these tropes--his particular cultural tropes, as well as our received cultural tropes--he still takes some time to imply that these dudes may indeed be more than the sum of their parts, which is what makes it sting when the hammer comes down. All any of us can do, really.

[intertribal.livejournal.com]

Anything taken to absolutist extremes is generally a bad idea.

he still takes some time to imply that these dudes may indeed be more than the sum of their parts, which is what makes it sting when the hammer comes down.

Indeed. Representation is extremely tricky. Sometimes I think it's one of those things that a work either gets right or doesn't. And some of it comes down to math (especially in a large cast), and some of it is about the whole "more than the sum of their parts" thing. I remember watching Leviathan, whose large cast got whittled down to three: the white leading guy who had always appeared to be the smartest, most rational one, the white leading girl, and the token black guy. They're waiting for rescue and suddenly the Leviathan comes up behind them. Who dies? Token black guy, of course. It was so of course that I almost couldn't believe they did it. And I don't know, maybe another part of it is showing some awareness of cultural tropes, realizing your story doesn't exist in a vacuum.