Courtesy ~marlanido make sure to show them some love.

So why not just lie about her son, his age and condition, you're probably thinking? she tried that:

... I once managed to deflect all questions about Danny’s age — without actually lying — for a month, but it was exhausting. I resented the energy and the subterfuge. Once I did come clean, this man said he’d still be willing to see me but didn’t want to spend time with Danny.Theoretically, I understood and should have been O.K. about it. After all, my kids have enough problems without having to add my dating life — and its instability — to the mix. But this man’s aversion made me angry. Danny is not a plague-carrying rodent but a smart, funny and handsome boy who happens to have a host of problems. He and his brother are the most important people in my life. He is part of me. I have spent the better part of the last decade taking care of my kids, especially Danny. I bring my laptop to the treatment center he attends and work in the waiting room. ... But as my friend said, having a child with autism can be, in the eyes of some men, the dating equivalent of being an H.I.V.-positive crack addict with 30 cats. The men around my age have children of their own to worry about, or, if they’ve never had children, it may be because they aren’t comfortable with even the best-behaved kids. No matter what I say, they will be afraid that they’ll end up having to deal with my son, and a kid like him is the last thing they want to add to their already complicated lives. Middle-aged men in the dating pool are realists. They’ve got to make their child-support payments. They had enough trouble dealing with their own divorces. A difficult child is not welcome in their universe.... Although I am lucky that Danny’s father is still a part of his life, he and I aren’t close, and I am not comfortable having contact with him beyond what’s necessary. People ask whether Danny’s autism is the reason my ex-husband and I split up and he left, or if there were other problems. There are always other problems. I can’t live my life over again in a parallel universe to find out what my marriage would have been like without Danny’s issues. I’ll never know, and it doesn’t really matter. When I am honest, I do understand why these men back away when they learn of Danny’s autism. Autism has a way of taking over your life. For those who have a choice, it makes sense to avoid it. The fathers who walk out often remarry and have other kids. Some withdraw from the lives of their autistic children. We, the mothers, rarely remarry or have more kids. The divorced fathers of autistic children also don’t have to lie about their kids’ ages to get a second date. They just say, “My son lives with his mother.”.... And in the end, for me, just being Danny’s mother means telling the truth about my son, even if doing so means I’ll be on my own.

Can't add much more than that. WHile this woman probably has it better than some other mothers who deal with autistic children, her situation no less grips you emotionally. When it comes to stories of the disabled and the people who take care of them, its a very dark feeling that encompasses you as you read/hear about them. Sometimes the hopelessness of the situation just gets to you, sometimes you just feel more grateful for the things you already have. But no matter what you appreciate the hard work and commitment and courage of those individuals who deal with disabilities, and the people around them. Corny I know.

The Avengers versus your brain cells : This weekend proved to be a box office triumph for Marvel Comics, but was it a hollow victory? After mostly what could be considered years of build up [essentially starting at Iron Man 1] Marvel unloaded its superhero confab into theaters. But before that could happen there was the usual preceeding events that seem to follow the first blockbuster of the summer season every year. First is the spectacular and seemingly endless hype campaign, that usually starts at the Super Bowl, and flows into every other commerical or pop up add. Second is the myriad of early "reviews" from "unbiased" sites, and sources [most of which have a bent towards either the material or the industry]. Which is finally followed by those other reviews that ultimately take a harder look and reach the exact opposite conclusion and typically whine about how thisis one of the signs of the end of modern civiliation.

Lets start with the third in that list shall we? There was quite a blow up when the NYT's head film critic AO Scott [a reviewer I've read and to be honest don't exactly regard very highly] released a lukewarm critique of the blockbuster. So Nick Fury aka Sam Jackson decided to take to twitter about it . Not a great moment for comic fans, rather than disproving Scotts point in his critique that the comic book fans who will flock to the film ignorant of its flaws, actually gave it more credibility as they raged against him trying to get him fired. The whole thing was showy and hype esque, Jackson probably made the demand to generate hype around the film going into the final week before it launched, and likely has nothing against Scott personally. On the other hand fans of the avengers looked kinda dumb, to be honest. I mean, really how can you get angry over a critique of a film you haven't yet seen?

Scott's review I actually found to be pretty accurate after having plunked down to see this film. Let me just say this, the movie is a pretty good popcorn flick, but that's really where it ends. Scott captures the essence of that in his review, and I will share selected excerpts after I make one point. I was disappointed in the film, for a lot of reasons, but one stood out in particular. A few years ago I had the privelege of seeing a great sci-fi flick called "Serenity" directed by Joss Whedon. It was a fun engaging and enjoyable movie, that I enjoyed from beginning to end. If I had hope for Avengers, that it would be more than just an Iron Man 2 or X-men origins Wolverine, it was because Whedon was at the helm. Instead we got a paint by the numbers action flick. I'll raise another issue I had with the film after I share with you some of the gems from Scotts review:

So “The Avengers,” which has been foreshadowed by post-credits teasers in (deep breath), “Captain America,” “Thor,” “The Incredible Hulk” (the one with Edward Norton) and both “Iron Man” pictures, is not without its pleasures. Written and directed by Joss Whedon, this movie revels in the individuality of its mighty, mythical characters, pinpointing insecurities that are amplified by superhuman power and catching sparks that fly when big, rough-edged egos (and alter egos) collide. The best scenes are not the overblown, skull-assaulting action sequences — which add remarkably little that will be fresh or surprising to devotees of the “Transformers” franchise — but the moments in between, when the assembled heroes have the opportunity to brag, banter, flirt and bicker. The secret of “The Avengers” is that it is a snappy little dialogue comedy dressed up as something else, that something else being a giant A.T.M. for Marvel and its new studio overlords, the Walt Disney Company. At times — when various members of a game and nimble cast amble in and out of the glassy, metallic chambers of a massive flying aircraft carrier, cracking wise, rolling eyes and occasionally throwing a punch — the movie has some of the easygoing charm of “Rio Bravo,” Howard Hawks’s great, late western in which John Wayne, Angie Dickinson, Dean Martin and Ricky Nelson did a lot of talking on their way to a big and not-all-that-interesting shootout.... Mr. Jackson, with an eye patch and his well-practiced bellow, is more master of ceremonies than mission commander, and under his watch the Avengers indulge in some Rat Pack-y horsing around. Captain America (Chris Evans) is teased for being an out-of-touch old-timer, Thor for being a longhaired deity from another planet. Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) is his usual mischievous playboy self, distinguishable from Sherlock Holmes at this point thanks only to his accent and the brief presence of Gwyneth Paltrow in his penthouse. The newcomer — and every intellectual’s favorite comic-book-based movie character from now on — is Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner, a mopey, hesitant genius who turns large and green when angry. “I’m always angry,” he says at one point, and while “The Avengers” is hardly worth raging about, its failures are significant and dispiriting. The light, amusing bits cannot overcome the grinding, hectic emptiness, the bloated cynicism that is less a shortcoming of this particular film than a feature of the genre. Mr. Whedon’s playful, democratic pop sensibility is no match for the glowering authoritarianism that now defines Hollywood’s comic-book universe. Some of the rebel spirit of Mr. Whedon’s early projects “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” “Firefly” and “Serenity” creeps in around the edges but as detail and decoration rather than as the animating ethos. “I aim to misbehave,” Malcolm Reynolds famously said in “Serenity.” But for all their maverick swagger, the Avengers are dutiful corporate citizens, serving a conveniently vague set of principles. Are they serving private interests, big government, their own vanity, or what? It hardly matters, because the true guiding spirit of their movie is Loki, who promises to set the human race free from freedom and who can be counted on for a big show wherever he goes. In Germany he compels a crowd to kneel before him in mute, terrified awe, and “The Avengers,” which recently opened there to huge box office returns, expects a similarly submissive audience here at home. The price of entertainment is obedience.

I got a good laugh out of that last line. And that other point about vague sets of principles, is I feel right on. There's no ideological battle at the heart of "the avengers", its at best a form of tyranny versus non-tyranny. Not every hero or supervillian needs an idea or vision of the world to be fighting for but it helps. Heck even the disaster in script writing that was "Transformers 2" had that notion down. But don't let that deter you from seeing the film. Like I said its a good popcorn flick, and if there is one thing I've learned to appreciate over the years its a good popcorn movie, that'll let you walk out of the theater feeling a bit dumber but pumped for the sequel.

My last issue with the film breaks down into a comic complaint. And partly its driven by the fact that in my own comic writing designing superhero teams is just a pain. I felt in Iron Man 2 Ms. Johannson's Black Widow character had a totally superflous storyline. They basically had to invent a problem for her to solve. Same thing happens here.  Except now, with Hawkeye and Captain America you have two other people who are  at the same power level. Disparity in power levels is just a pain, the problem has to be unique to the persons skill set otherwise why not have someone else do it? With the Avengers, you have a clear disparity, you've got Iron Man The Hulk and Thor who are all basically superhuman, then you've got everyone else, whose work could easily be done by any of those other guys. But instead we make the issue one of "well they can't be everywhere at once" just so we can fit in something for these other people to do. In terms of the comics, one of the great ways this problem has been dealt with is seen in the X-men. They often have to combine their powers in original ways, and since their powers are unique to each of them no one is really "weaker" than the other. They all depending on the situation have the chance of doing something significant.

As for the Avengers, I'll maybe get the DVD. And I'm eager to see how well the film is regarded in a couple of weeks. I remember the initial reaction to Star Wars episode I amongst fans so blinded by their love of the first films. After a bit reality set in, I hope that comic fans are able to be objective about Avengers in the same way. Its good, but Marvel needs to be challenged to do better.

Books!

Ok forget about DuMaurier's "the Doll" I want to read it, but really don't want to pay for it. So that's that. I will say that the one story in it I read was particularly provocative. DuMaurier wrote in the 1920s so her work is dated, but she wrote this eloquent piece about a man who had become infatuated with a woman who's behavoirs were incredibly childlike. It seemed to be almost a piece talking about the attraction of youth, which was pretty interesting. But I did skim through that work so to be fair I may not have caught the full breadth of it...

The List:

I promise if I'm able to find more fiction that deals with romance etc. I'll make sure to make to review it. So far the NYT book review hasn't been so generous to me. That being said, I'd like to look over the review of yet another Short story anthology this by Israeli writer Etgar Keret. Lets take a look at Suddenly a knock on the door. Selected Excerpts from the NYT Book Review:

How exhilarating then to encounter “Suddenly, a Knock on the Door,” the new collection from Etgar Keret. An award-winning filmmaker, Keret is also one of Israel’s best-selling authors, a status he earned in a manner that would be downright heretical here: by writing extremely short, fantastical stories. Worse yet, they are frequently funny. Were he living in Brooklyn, Keret would have been hogtied by a pack of rabid agents and ordered to drop the shtick and write a novel already.  Which is not to say that he has escaped the burdens of celebrity. Consider the ingenious title story, in which three armed men hold a writer named Keret hostage and demand he tell them a story. Keret (the character) offers up a nervous description of his plight. “That’s not a story,” one of his assailants protests. “That’s an eyewitness report. It’s exactly what’s happening here right now. Exactly what we’re trying to run away from. Don’t you go and dump reality on us like a garbage truck. Use your imagination, man, create, invent, take it all the way.” It’s a pep talk worthy of Beckett, and typical of Keret’s narrative M.O.: a sly retreat from reality that in fact marks a determined advance on the private fears and wishes of his characters. What writer, after all, hasn’t cowered before the glare of the empty page while also fantasizing, perversely, about a world in which his inventions are worth killing for? For Keret, the creative impulse resides not in a conscious devotion to the classic armature of fiction (character, plot, theme, etc.) but in an allegiance to the anarchic instigations of the subconscious. His best stories display a kind of irrepressible dream logic. A man left by his wife is continually mistaken for other people, and goes along with it, engaging in a series of urgent colloquies that jolt him from his depression. A stoic restaurateur who refuses to sit shiva for her late husband is descended upon by a mob of customers whose voracious appetites awaken her grief. A hit man facing execution brags of his sadistic excess only to be reincarnated as Winnie the Pooh. Reduced to their outlines, plots like these can sound gimmicky. But Keret alights upon protagonists in the midst of psychic upheaval, willing to embrace the bizarre twists that deliver them to their appointed grace or ruin. The humor in their travails arises not from an effort to charm the reader but to confront the darkness that shadows our human folly. So yes, we do meet a talking goldfish whose patter calls to mind Don Rickles, but the fish remains helpless to quell the crushing loneliness of its owner. Keret’s previous collections have showcased a dazzling cross section of discombobulated heroes: miserable army conscripts, troubled magicians, vexed immigrants, libidinous monkeys. But there was sometimes a sense that he was using his imaginative gifts as a dodge, leapfrogging from one clever conceit to the next without much emotional investment in his people. As a stylist, Keret specializes in unadorned, mostly expository prose. He writes to ensure narrative momentum, not to distract the reader with figurative language. This has the fortunate effect of rendering his lyric flights that much more striking. “She gets swallowed up by these waves of convulsions, involuntary ones, from deep inside,” one of his lovesick heroes reports. “They rumble their way into her neck and tickle the soles of her feet. It’s like her whole anatomy is trying to say thanks without knowing how.” (Worth mentioning is that Keret’s regular translators, Miriam Shlesinger and Sondra Silverston, are joined this time around by the American story writer Nathan Englander, a longtime fan.) Keret, born in 1967, has often been distinguished from Israeli writers of the previous generation by virtue of his whimsy. But his concerns are different, as well. While Amos Oz and David Grossman wrestle with the moral quandaries of the emergent Jewish state, and Aharon Appelfeld plumbs the calamitous dislocations of Jewish history, Keret tracks the chaotic inner life of his countrymen. To him, the perils of modern Israel — the free-floating rage, the anguish of occupation, the sudden and senseless violence — are not national dramas so much as existential dilemmas.... Keret evinces what the psychoanalyst Bruno Bettelheim called “the uses of enchantment,” an ability to compel readers to experience their hidden terrors by means of symbolic narrative. Bettelheim used the term to describe fairy tales. It’s a testament to Keret’s unorthodox gifts that his dark evocations read with the same disarming allure.

This is a technical review to be sure. However its a technical review of an unorthodox writer, and that's what makes it so useful. Keret may not write stories you enjoy, but how he writes will push you further whether as a writer or artist. I thought about something that the just deceased Maurice Sendak was saying about writing, and I'll have to paraphrase since i don't have the exact quote. He talked about how he'd be considered a writer if his creative output was words, but that for him his output was illustrations. I think that that sums up creativity in a nutshell for all of us. While we may learn from a variety of sources across mediums, the resulting output will be unique to us.

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