Image Consciousness

There's a lot of things in my life I am grateful for, most of which are blessings that came my way due to luck, grace or providence as opposed to machinations on my part. I am particularly thankful for the relationship shared between my two daughters. These two amazing young ladies could not be more different in some ways, and yet they remain close confidants with one another.

Two unrelated vignettes that offer glimpses into how my offspring interact with the world:

A few years back, Glory saved enough of her own money to pay for half of the digital SLR camera she wanted. Since then she has taken some photography classes in high school but she is more interested in landscapes than the portraiture they tend to focus on. She is going on a biology field trip to the Bamfield Marines Sciences Centre on Vancouver Island at month-end and isn't even bringing her good camera because of the room it takes (and fear of water damage).

She remains fascinated by vintage cameras though, something Audrey and I have encouraged in gifts we have found in antique shops in our travels and one from a lovely neighbour. Knowing myself at that age, I steeled myself for the possibility of these old devices disappearing into a drawer until she rediscovered them at an older age (and possibly in her own living space). After all, what teenager is interested in antiques?

On the contrary though; she has practically enshrined them on a shelf in her room.

In case you were wondering, they are a Kodak Jiffy II bellows camera from the 1940s, an Imperial Deluxe twin-lens reflex camera (1950s), and a Mercury II with a rotary shutter from the mid-40s. I also love the flashbulb garland she's strung around them!

Despite the frustrations that modern technology in general and the interwebs, in particular, can often hold for my wife, she has proven adept at determining the provenance of items such as these and even managed to track down PDFs of original owner's manuals for some of them. I doubt she will ever recondition them enough to take pictures with them, but the obvious veneration she holds for these nostalgic cameras is a pleasant surprise.

Fenya's story changes the perspective from how one sees images to the image one is seen as. Wait, that's terrible English - let me start over.

Our eldest is wrapping up her second year of university and is looking at taking an internship next year before continuing her studies. She sent out a considerable stack of resumes and received four interview invitations in fairly rapid succession, which was obviously highly encouraging.

Despite the fact that my last "cold" interview was over a decade ago, she asked my help in preparing for some of them, which I found highly flattering. In particular, she had received a fair bit of background material from the Office of the Student Ombuds at the University of Alberta, and we spent a pretty solid evening looking at it and discussing it, as well as the case study they had provided. It was pretty heavy stuff, and I guess the preparation helped, as she not only got the gig but the longer term of the two positions being offered.

It turns out that one of her colleagues from the Peer Support Centre had done the exact same internship and said it was the highlight of her undergrad years. Better still, she told Fenya she would be a fantastic fit for the job but warned her that she would need to take steps to present herself as a working professional and not as a fellow student. "Even more so," she underscored, "because you look so young too."

Fenya had already grabbed some office wear from V.V. Boutique prior to the interview and could supplement that once she got a couple of paycheques under her belt, but her bookbag presented a problem. Nothing says "student" quite like a backpack stuffed with papers and a lunch sack, so she was advised to get either a briefcase or business-lookin' tote of some kind before starting on May 1.

Before she could even determine if V.V. could come through again, one of the people she had gone to China with last year came through for her. Having overheard her lament regarding business-style totewear, he related how he had received one free with a Chapters purchase that was a tad too effeminate for his own use, but which she was welcome to. She picked it up today while studying for finals on campus.

I remember using a briefcase I had inherited from my dad on my first few summer office jobs during university, but they are now not only a bit worse for wear, but also woefully out of style. I'm glad Fenya was able to procure one from a friend, and on a student-friendly budget, too (i.e. free to a good home). One less thing to worry about as she wraps up her exams and prepares for a year on the job in a challenging but intriguing position!

Every time I share something featuring the girls on Instagram, I can count on a couple of my coworkers telling me how beautiful they are. Which, you know, fair enough, and I haven't yet seen the need to purchase a shotgun or menacing piece of vintage cutlery to hang over the door or anything. It's gratifying and I do always try to be gracious, but on the inside I am always thinking, man, that isn't even the third or fourth coolest thing about them! Whtether looking at the past or at their own futures, I continue to be amazed by their perception.

Most Anticipated?

Culturally, I think we spend a lot of time anticipating movies. Gone, at least for the most part, are the days when a fan would be surprised when they saw a trailer (in the theatre!) adapting a book or other property for the silver screen. Word leaks out now the moment a movie enters pre-production, and sometimes even earlier.

For instance, I've been waiting for Shane Black's movie version of pulp hero Doc Savage since before 2013 (stalled now despite signing Dwayne Johnson as the lead). Should the movie ever actually come to pass, I'm not sure it can live up to a decade or more of anticipation.

Even before the frenzy of ticket purchases, virtual line-ups and server crashes that heralded the pre-sales for Avengers: Endgame, I had described it as the most anticipated movie of my lifetime. And that's coming from someone who cut school with his mates to go and see Return of the Jedi at a matinee the day that it opened!

That third Star Wars movie was wrapping up the most successful movie franchise in history at that point, a trilogy that had begun six years earlier. The first in the series had redefined the term "blockbuster," and I remember newspaper ads proclaiming it had been "Held over - 27th Hit Week!"

The movie business has changed a lot since that day - hell, so has the way we consume movies for that matter - but somehow anticipation remains, despite the fact that we can watch the movie at home within six months of it opening in the theatre. In fact, in light of all the furor, it might even be accurate to say that anticipation has even increased. And why not?

Endgame will be wrapping up the Marvel Cinematic Universe's much less cohesive but no less interconnected set of films spanning 11 years and an astonishing 22 movies. The closest analogy is probably the EON company's James Bond series. I mean, until you consider that when Bond 25 is released in April of 2020, there will be more MCU movies out by the end of that summer.

I've been a big fan of the MCU since the first Iron Man back in 2008, and although some of the movies have been better than others, I have never come away disappointed. That and my, uh, passing familiarity with the source material, coupled with my meta-knowledge that these actors aren't getting any younger and many of them are at the end of their contracts and possibly hankering for a juicy death scene to cement themselves in the role, means that yes, I have never anticipated a movie more than Endgame. Ever.

Worse still, I will be at the Calgary Comic Expo on the opening weekend, making it imperative to see it on Thursday night, lest I be walking around Spoilerpalooza with my hands pressed against my ears. It's hard enough to maintain reasonable expectations while avoiding spoilers; the latter has been pretty difficult, given the fanosphere's tendency to scour every bit of leaked footage, set report and toy advertisement like theologians poring over the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Luckily I had set a reminder on my phone to purchase tickets last Tuesday. When I blearily perceived it shortly after waking up, I thought I should take a look in case ticket sales had begun. A few minutes later, I saw that the theatre was already half sold out, but still managed to get four tickets on the left aisle despite the terrifying sluggishness of the process. By the time I got to work, news outlets on both sides of the Atlantic were reporting on the crashes, delays, and massive fan dissatisfaction.

None of which has dissipated the anticipation. Projections for the opening weekend are in excess of $200 million, and tickets are reportedly being scalped for thousands of dollars on eBay.

But I wouldn't sell mine for less than five figures, and my anticipation continues to build, despite my best efforts to restrain it!

Rammstein's Deutschland Video - Shocked or Awed?

So, hey; let's talk about that new Rammstein video.

A decade after their last album, Liebe ist für alle da, the German industrial goth rockers finally have a new, if titleless, album scheduled for release on May 17. Last week they released a thirty-second clip of the video for their first single, Deutschland, that depicted members of the band standing beneath a gallows, their heads in nooses, in the uniforms of WWII concentration camp prisoners.

On Thursday the full video premiered, garnering 350,000 views almost before it finished streaming - three days later it has almost reached 18 million. It depicts the more violent moments of German history in a graphic enough fashion that it is treated as age-restricted material. It opens with Roman legionnaires fighting Gauls, highlights armoured knights of the middle ages and into the modern era with both world wars, the era of the Communist East and the Bader-Meinhof gang before delving into the future onboard a spaceship.

Deutschland is one of the most impressive music videos ever produced, and I'm not saying that as a fan of the band; I'm saying it as a fan of the medium I've adored for three-and-a-half-decades. Yes, it is graphic, and yes, it is provocative, but it is also insightful, thought-provoking and genuine. Brilliantly shot by director Specter Berlin (and I don't care if that is a fake name, it is boss), this video boasts costumes, sets and cinematography the equal of just about anything Hollywood produced last year.

But everyone is talking about the indignation instead.

Everyone from the BBC to Canada's own Global News is posting headlines like"German rock band causes outrage with Nazi imagery." I mean, how often does the Israeli Foreign Ministry feel the need to release a statement about a rock music video?

“This Rammstein clip, using the Holocaust for advertisement purposes, is shameful and uncalled for,” ministry spokesman Emmanuel Nahshon tweeted. “We join the many voices calling for its immediate removal.”

Sigh.

Now, this is actually beginning to wind me up a bit, despite my best efforts to remain bemused, but I just want to bring up a few salient points here in case someone in your proximity starts clutching their pearls about it or tries talking smack about a video they probably haven't even watched.

1) The band are loving this
Rammstein are clearly believers in Oscar Wilde's maxim that the only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about. They do not shy away from controversy, they wade into it, presumably while wearing terrifying or ridiculous headgear and no pants. The lead video for their previous album was a full-on porno, released on an adults-only website and featuring Oscar-worthy editing of the band and their body doubles.

If there weren't high-fives going around the Universal Music offices in Berlin on Friday, I'd be shocked and disappointed. As far as the band's concerns over this alleged outrage, I think this magazine cover probably says it best: "25 years. Zero f*cks."

2) You did not-zee this coming
For 25 years now people have asked if the loud scary German band are Nazis, and for 25 years they've refuted it, most notably in the song Links 2 3 4, which stresses in every chorus that "my heart beats left." Since the band appear as both prisoners and their Nazi captors in this video, we've been spared this tired argument, at least for the time being.

3) No glorification here
Deutschland's video is an intriguing examination of Germany's history and its often violent past, and the mixed feelings the band (and many others, I'm certain) have about their homeland. I don't know how you could possibly do that and not include a reference to the Holocaust. I think the approach they take is sensible and balanced: the band plays the roles of both the prisoners and their SS captors, who are joined by their country's female personification Germania (actress Ruby Commey).

I think it is also worth noting that the four prisoners all have different insignia on their prison garb, of which I only recognize three: the yellow Star of David worn by Jews, the pink triangle identifying gay men, and the yellow and red triangles signifying a Jewish political prisoner. I'm not sure what Flake is wearing, but it appears distinct from the others. Since none of the band are either Jewish or gay, I can only presume they are making an intentional statement about how comprehensive the Nazi persecution was.

And hey, how satisfying is it when the tables get turned on the captors in the end, right? Hardly a glorious end for that lot.

4) Art vs. commerce, round 7,213,859
Regardless of whether Rammstein are endorsing National Socialism or not (and let's be clear: they aren't) or boosting fascism (again: no), there are those who resent the fact that the band are using shock tactics to (gasp) sell records!

Well, of course they are (see 1) above if you've forgotten), but I don't think they are doing so crassly or irresponsibly. I think it would be nice if Rammstein's critics considered at least the possibility that these record-sellers are also actually artists. In fact, they have as much right to the title of "recording artists" as any of the other sell-outs out there.

Can an artist explore dark topics and disturbing themes with honesty and candor but also turn a buck or two in the process? One likes to hope so; like Don Barzini says in The Godfather, "after all, we are not communists."

5) Wait, so you're all right with the other stuff they've sung about then?
Frankly, anyone waiting until now to be offended by Rammstein really has not been paying attention. Their past songs and videos have incorporated themes of murder, rape, incest, arson, terrorism, pyromania, necrophilia, substance abuse and cannibalism. In all honesty, their lyrics tend to run a fairly narrow band between horrifying and banal, which is why I only rarely look up the translations to their songs anymore. Deutschland is a bit of a stand-out though:

[Strophe 2]
I (You have, you have, you have, you have)
I never want to leave you (You cry, you cry, you cry, you cry)
One can love you (You love, you love, you love, you love)
And want to hate you (You hate, you hate, you hate, you hate)
Presumptuous, superior
Take over, hand over/puke
Surprise, assault
Germany, Germany over all

[Chorus]
Germany – my heart in flames
Want to love and condemn you
Germany – your breath cold
So young, and yet so old
Germany – your love
Is boon and bane
Germany – my love
I can't give youGermany!
Germany!

6) Is the offence taken in itself offensive?
Here's the part I can't laugh about: the idea that artists can't depict a tragic moment in history for the purpose of exploring it in whatever medium while at the same time real-life Nazism is on the upswing is completely stultifying to me.

White nationalism and white supremacy are on the rise across Europe and North America alike, national socialist and racist iconography are popping up more and more often, and hate crimes are increasing at a rate not seen in years. But no, let's get our collective panties in a bunch because in the course of depicting nine different eras of violent European history, four members of a band willingly dressed up as oppressed minorities and pretended to be hung by two other bandmates, while the personification of Germany overseeing the whole thing was portrayed by a woman of colour. Really?

I am willing to concede the point that effectively putting the extermination of six million humans on par with the comparatively minor impacts of the Red Army Faction is a questionable decision, but good grief -give your heads a shake and get your priorities in order, folks.

Now, I fully understand that Rammstein is not a band for everyone, but if you don't mind your music with a little hardness and your rock videos with enough edge to potentially cut yourself on, by all means, check out the video for Deutschland - it has depth for days. So much so, in fact, that there have already been some intriguing articles attempting to unpack all the imagery and meaning, such as this one from All Things Loud that is packed with historical insights, this one by an Oxford professor, or Deutsches Welt's inquiry: "Rammstein video furore: Far-right clickbait or anti-fascist art?"

In the meantime, please let me know when the making-of video for Deutschland is released. I'm going to go get my pre-order in for the new album and then start praying for tour dates within driving distance.

Cheese the Day! Vernal Geekquinox 2019

I think we all have a hunger for tradition, for familiar patterns that remind us of good things in the world as well as the challenges we often face. It's hard to believe that, by my estimation, yesterday was Pete's 17th Geekquinox dinner. Pete had his first seasonal soiree in 2011, added a strong theme (Game of Thrones) to the second, and since then his dinner parties have become not one but two of the most anticipated events of the year for most of us.

(I should note that I was also a bit surprised to see that March 19 was the tenth anniversary of my first post to Confessions of a Middle-Aged Adolescent! Time flies when you're having...well, whatever it is this is.)

Pete has let us know earlier in the month that the theme this time around would be cheese, which filled me with a sharp combination of both eager anticipation and wariness. Even taken over several hours, could a cheese-centric meal be safely enjoyed?

The answer appears to be an emphatic "yes," at least, so far!

The first challenge was finding something thematically appropriate to wear, something I enjoy but which Audrey excels at. I settled with wearing an orange t-shirt with a cheesy sentiment on it, but she went one step further. She found a creamy yellow tee at Value Village and got Glory's help designing some iron-on accoutrements. 

Pete's shirt was cheesy in its own way charmingly cheesy in its own way, so it made sense to get a photo of them together.

The menu advised us that we would be enjoying six different cheese-based selections, each accompanied by a counterpoint to round out the meal (and provide an opportunity for both a delicious steak and creative libation). The cheese plate was set out shortly after Audrey and I arrived and featured an assortment that Pete had smoked on his Big Green Egg. 

I was astonished at how much smoke flavour a soft cheese like Camembert could contain, even if a flare-up had caused it to lose much of its shape. My favourite though had to be the garlic Havarti, which balanced out the two types of aromatics without sacrificing either of them. Aged cheddar and two types of blue cheese including a Stilton rounded out the field.

A brie baked in pastry with apple pear compote with was the next course. Sweet and savoury in equal measure, this could have easily been served as a dessert, but it worked immensely well as an appetizer.

Of course, you want to follow up something rich like that with a mouthful that is tart and refreshing. Enter the evening's bespoke beverage, a vodka-based lime-basil cocktail that was not too acidic for Audrey and went down far too easily. Garnished with a fresh basil leaf and served in an elegant Kolsch glass, it was almost as refreshing to look at as to taste.

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These delightful tipples were followed in short order by two plates of Greek pastry pinwheels interlaced with feta cheese, peppers, olives and Greek spice. 

Served fresh from the oven, they were the perfect consistency, the soft, warm dough providing just enough structure to keep the cheese filling intact until it dissolved on your palate. Creamy, spicy, and with just a hint of saltiness, these were one of my favourite dishes of the night. Plus, you know, just look at them - they're delightful!

The next course took a brief respite from cheese with a fascinating salad-style course; lemon vinegar mushrooms with garlic steak spice. I only had a mouthful of these though, as I became distracted by engaging conversation after sampling them, and by the time I wandered back for a proper serving, they had all vanished! My inner hobbit was a bit disappointed to miss out on such a creative mushroom dish, but I bore no ill will.

Next up were the pull-apart garlic knots, generously topped with parmesan cheese and accompanied with a marinara sauce for dipping. Probably the simplest dish of the night, but no less delicious than the rest.

Cheese moved from garnishing to center stage with the next course, gnocchi made from ricotta cheese and served with a delicious and creamy scratch-made pesto sauce. I'm mad for gnocchi under just about any circumstance you can imagine, so having these tender dumplings wrapped around a soft mild cottage-type cheese made them a real winner with me. The pesto was likewise brilliant, and I saw a few people running their fingers along the edge or their bowl to savour as much of the sauce as possible.

It's pretty much a Geekquinox tradition to get to the main course after the witching hour, and tonight was no exception. Pete plated up delicious ribeye steaks, generously seasoned, cooked to a turn and bearing hints of smoke from the Egg. Beside each was a croque monsieur-style Hasselback potato with Havarti and ham stuffed in between each slice. Folks, meat and taters probably does not get any better than this.

There was a brief respite for our host while the plates were cleared away, but before long he was back in the kitchen supervising the assembly of dessert: a maple sugar angel food cake schmeared with generous amounts of cream cheese icing and topped with lemon Chantilly cream. The cake was amazing, moist and dense without being cloying, with discernible maple in every single bite. The sweetness of the icing coupled with the tart whipped cream made this both a decadent and nuanced finish to another brilliant meal by a gifted cook and exemplary host.

The Same Thing, Only Different

As part of my master of ceremonies duties at our church's St. Patrick's Day Feast tonight, I drew attention to a lovely lady from our congregation. She had recently been honoured with five other St. Albert Women by the local Bahai group as United Nations International Women of the Year. In her case, it is for her work in promoting multiculturalism and refugee resettlement, and I am privileged to work with her as part of St. Albert United's Affirming Ministry Team.

Given the strange juxtaposition of the happiness of St. Patrick's Day and the horrors that were perpetrated in New Zealand on Friday, it got me to thinking about the way in which things change. There we were, nearly a hundred of us, in a Canadian Protestant church, celebrating a Catholic saint from England who ended up the patron saint of Ireland. Many of us were festooned in shades of green, commemorating the Celtic conviviality and island gregariousness that we associate with the Emerald Isle, embodying the notion that on this day, there are only two types of folk: those who are Irish, and those who wish they were!

But it wasn't always that way, was it?

You don't have to look back too far to see a time where the Irish were denigrated across much of the western world. Even before the potato famine began in the 1840s, much of Great Britain saw Ireland as a bottomless pit of hopeless pauperism, despite the fact that it was the small parcels of poor land doled out to the natives by wealthy protestant landowners that exacerbated that situation. Small wonder that a working male in Ireland ate nearly 14 pounds of potatoes a day since that was one of the few reliable crops available to them.

The potato blight nearly halved the population of Ireland; a million who starved and another two million who fled, mainly to Protestant North America.

This wave of immigrants, displaced by a humanitarian crisis, was not highly thought of at the time. The Irish were regarded by many as a dirty, impoverished, poorly educated, unintelligible and potentially dangerous folk, with a different religion from the rest of us. And that's without even getting into the sectarian violence of their homelands that many prayed they wouldn't bring with them!

Sound familiar?

And yet, here we are, almost a century since "Irish Need Not Apply"  was a common adjunct to job postings, and the denigration has turned to veneration, at least once a year. We get together to wear as much green livery as we can, drink pints of Guinness, throw some extra Bailey's in our coffee, affect terrible Irish accents and tell complete strangers that we hope they end up in heaven half an hour before the Devil knows they're dead.

I don't see an easy solution to the pervasive problem of White supremacy and White nationalism, but I am confident in the best strategy to oppose them - outlove and outlast them.

A year or two ago, the taxi I was riding home from a tire change with was a brutally overt racist, going on about how "the turbans" were ruining the trucking and taxi industries.It was especially ironic hearing all this in thickly accented English from someone I guessed was from Lebanon or maybe Eastern Europe, but there you are.

I saw few merits in getting into a debate with the guy, but I couldn't let him just talk up a line of horrible bullshit like that unopposed either, so I said, "Sure, but a hundred years ago, they probably said the same thing about my grandfather, right?"

"What do you mean?' he asked.

"He was Irish at a time when people didn't necessarily want the Irish around, especially Irish Catholics," I said. "There used to be signs that read 'No blacks, no dogs, no Irish.' Eventually, my granddad went on to be a small business owner in Manitoba. Less than ten years after he died, John F. Kennedy, a descendant of Irish immigrants, became the first Catholic president."

The pause in his vitriol lasted up to the sidewalk in front of my house, where I added, "Look, everyone in this neck of the woods except the Cree and the Blackfoot came from somewhere else, right? It's always someone's turn to be new. We just have to be patient with them, and let them have the same space and opportunity our ancestors got. Things will work out."

I didn't bother to check if he believed or agreed with me, but with any luck, I planted a seed there that might at least cause some additional consideration in the future.

In the meantime, I hope that St. Patrick's Day, despite its 'plastic paddy' culture and green beer (ugh), can serve as an example of how mistrusted newcomers can not only transform themselves into valued members of society but also become examples of hope for those who follow them here.

Super-Empowered - Captain Marvel, Reviewed

So, lemme tell y'all the problem with Marvel movies:

• Too many of them are origin stories
• Origin stories are okay except when they are so similar
• They are all about white guys, (except one black guy and another fella who's green half the time)
• The villains tend to suck

Happily, Captain Marvel has precisely none of these problems and is a well-paced adventure film topped off with genuine emotional resonance to boot. (And that isn't even counting the two very sweet tributes to Stan Lee in there.)

Very few people outside of comics knew about either Captain Marvel or her alter ego Carol Danvers until Kevin Feige and co. greenlit this film a while back. Even within nerdy subcultures, I am sure there are plenty who think she appeared in the comics only six or seven years ago. Ms. Danvers' lineage actually dates back to the '60s, appearing as an unpowered USAF officer who encounters the secret identity of the original Captain Marvel. Later on, through an origin story that is ambiguous and contrived even by comics standards, she is imbued with alien powers and becomes Ms. Marvel.

She carries this role through a couple of frankly embarrassing and sexist costumes before having her powers stolen by Rogue (who eventually joins the X-Men), then getting new powers from Galactus and becoming his new herald, Binary. That power set eventually diminished and she became Ms. Marvel once again, but later adopted the name Warbird, before reverting to Ms. Marvel once again.

In 2012, writer Kelly Sue DeConnick took the character back to her air force roots and Kree-linked power set, taking the name Captain Marvel because, well, why not?

I mention all this just so you don't think that maybe this film was some sort of cookie cutter adaptation. The very first thing the writers did (and there were five of them, so I am amazed that the film is actually coherent, let alone good) was deconstruct the origin one more time, and wrap it up in a mystery. This time, the hero doesn't need to learn humility, they need to learn who they are and where they came from. Using the canonical origin for inspiration only allowed co-directors Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck to unravel the backstory in a satisfying manner that could still surprise those of us who had a pull file at a comics shop in our formative years.

Set in the mid-90s, much of Captain Marvel plays like a buddy-cop movie from the period. This movie would go nowhere without the considerable chemistry between Sam Jackson's Nick Fury and Brie Larson's titular Captain, known only as "Vers" (pronounced "Veers").

Vers believes herself to be a member of the Kree, one of Marvel's longest established alien empires, but they waste very little time on fish out of water humour. To a member of an elite military unit called Star Force, Earth - sorry, planet C-53 - is not exotic or offputting so much as a boring backwater, or as one of her comrades calls it, "a real shithole." Brie Larson plays the character pitch perfect - unwaveringly confident in her missions to defeat the shapeshifting Skrulls, even as she deals with the dreams that hint about her true identity.

Samuel L. Jackson, on the other hand, turns in a brilliant performance as a younger version of a character he's played since the end credits scene in the very first Iron Man movie. Yes, the VFX that so seamlessly depict him as nearly a quarter-century younger version of himself are impressive, but conveying a slightly less cynical, less jaded version of the MCU's lynchpin? That is all Samuel L. my friends.

On the villain front, Ben Mendelsohn (Rogue One) lets us hear his natural Australian accent for once as the Skrull leader Talos, which I found delightful. He is a cunning and brutal opponent, but not necessarily completely ruthless, and unlike so many MCU villains, his motivations are actually relatable. He is also funny, which is a characteristic I appreciate in my bad guys.

I suppose Captain Marvel is a lot like most of the other Marvel movies in some ways: it keeps things moving at a brisk pace and the action set pieces are creative, thrilling and well executed.  Most importantly, it balances off the emotional pathos of scenes like Carol Danvers meeting her best friend six years after being presumed dead with liberal amounts of jokes and subverted expectations. The best of these is watching Nick Fury making cutesy baby-talk towards a cat through a number of scenes, but there are others, to be sure. An not once does it require a stupid person to advance the plot, which is good, because I was looking for them and never saw a one of them.

And the fan service! The (eventual costume) is pitch perfect. They bring back Ronan the Accuser and Korath the Pursuer from the first Guardians of the Galaxy film. They find a way to depict the Kree Supreme Intelligence that vastly improves upon the original blobby wirehead from the comics, giving it almost spiritual gravitas at the same time. They reference a quadjet, an obvious precursor to the S.H.I.E.L.D. quinjet introduced in The Avengers. And we get to see a young Phil Coulson, the "new guy." Building a history and backstory for the MCU is a great added feature of this movie.

Because it features a woman in a role and space that in cinema has normally been exclusively male up until recently, it is inevitable that Captain Marvel will be characterized as a feminist movie. And you know what, that's okay because I think they do it right. I was so wrapped up in the story, I didn't take any particular note of just when they passed the Bechdel Test, and the movie isn't festooned with dudes talking down to Vers because of her gender. As an ersatz alien, she doesn't realize the obstacles placed before her (or the fact that she should apparently smile more for males), so Brie Larson can focus on making her the troubled ass-kicker she was meant to be. And this may have the added effect of making the girls who see it feel not only a bit more represented but even inspired, and that is nothing but a good thing.

But for those of us who had already figured out that there is no earthly (or unearthly, I suppose) reason for women not to be at the center of a big-budget, sci-fi-action movie comic book adaptation? There's no polemic here, just a vastly entertaining movie.

Which is good, because with two daughters in tow, I felt obliged to buy a couple of the deluxe metal popcorn buckets before we even sat down.

That Synth You Like Is Going to Come Back In Style

Before the Muse concert last Friday, Tara took Pete and me to the Specs Warehouse, an enormous liquor/specialty grocery store in downtown Houston. We had already arranged to visit a neighbourhood Specs the next day in preparation for the Oscars (and just general imbibing, to be honest), but Tara felt the extra-big location warranted its own visit.

And of course, she was entirely correct. We marvelled at the depth and breadth of ingredients, tried a locally produced creamy salsa, and lamented the restrictions in both luggage weights and duty-free exemptions that stopped us from spending a ridiculous amount of money.

In their candy aisle, however, I came across something I’d not seen in quite a while, and had believed was out of production: packages of Beemans chewing gum, something I thought they’d stopped selling 3-4 years ago.

Beemans (no apostrophe) is a brand that has always relied on a certain sense of nostalgia, having been around since the late 1800s. It has a reputation for being popular among pilots, and Chuck Yeager (Sam Sheppard) requests it by name twice in the movie, The Right Stuff. It turns out that reputation actually has its roots in fact, as the pepsin in it helped to calm stomachs upset by aerial maneuvering, and the chewing itself could help prevent the ear-popping caused by pressure changes due to altitude transitions.

I was already a fan of the gum by the time a tv commercial in the late ‘80s (featuring “I’m a Man” by the legendary Spencer Davis Group) created a resurgence in popularity. By the time I came across it in Specs it had been at least 5 years since I’d had any, so I bought 5 packs (and a pack of Blackjack gum) to share with the family.

We each had a piece as we walked from the House of Blues where we’d had dinner to the Toyota Centre to watch Muse, and it wasn’t quite as good as I remembered it, but it was still worth it for the brief sensation of temporal displacement.

After the opening act, Walk the Moon, left the stage, the house lights came up a bit, and taped music began to play over the roadies rearranging the stage. (I say 'taped' knowing full well that the music was almost certainly digital, but there you go.) An ominous, two-note bass line began to play, and I mentioned to Pete that it sounded like Ennio Morricone's score from the 1982 horror movie The Thing. A moment later the synths kicked in, and it turned out to be "Humanity Part 2" from that movie.

What an intriguing choice, I thought. Given the amount of retro Muse had pressed into their most recent album and the bulk of the tour merch we had seen on the concourse, it made a certain amount of sense though. I fully expected the playlist to turn to more familiar or conventional fare, but it didn't. I recognized the Stranger Things theme and part of Jan Hammer's Miami Vice, but we needed Tara's phone to tell us what some of the other tracks were.

Finding out that a creepily atmospheric piece was actually the end credit music from a 1983 horror movie called Blood Rage was not too surprising, but looking up some of the tracks afterward, I was stunned to discover there are many musicians and hobbyists devoted to recreating that particular synthesizer sound from the 1980s. Genre names like synthwave, retrowave, outrun and darkwave have, unbeknownst to me, been around since the early 2000s.

One of the tracks we heard, "A.H.B." by S U R V I V E sounded like it would have comfortably fit in either a movie from the '80s or a tv show about the '80s. Finding out that S U R V I V E is a quartet and that two of them composed the theme to the Netflix show Stranger Things tied things together pretty nicely.

In the interim at the concert, we also heard "Vortex" by Starforce and Cougar Synth as well as "Let's Cruise" by Jordan F., which seems to take a lot of inspiration from the beloved old Outrun video game.

In addition to being powerfully nostalgic, it's intriguing, easy-to-listen-to stuff, and trying to guess or predict the tracks being played really helped pass the time by until Muse took the stage.

Once home I tried to make a pre-show playlist in Google Play, but, alas, not a lot of the tracks were available in that medium. S U R V I V E's albums were, so I downloaded 2016's RR7349; it's not great driving music or anything, but excellent stuff to have on as you putter about the house or are playing a boardgame with friends (especially those close to my age).

But I wasn't ready to abandon that pre-concert experience altogether, so I started cobbling together pieces in a YouTube playlist instead called Pre-Simulation Theory.

No one else online seems to share my interest in the contents of the pre-show playlist (although it's cool to see an accounting of which songs were played by the headliner) so this collection is bound to be inaccurate and incomplete. To compensate, I added a synthwave compilation as well as a suggested track called "Cthulhu" by the band Gunship.

Gunship's Wikipedia entry contains a delightful definition of their sound that includes familiar imagery from my youth: "a neon-soaked, late night, sonic getaway drive, dripping with luscious analog synthesizers, cinematic vocals and cyberpunk values, exploding from the front cover of a dusty plastic VHS case which has lain forgotten since 1984."

Cyberpunk! There's a term that takes me back. If you have fond memories of watching imaginative futurescapes on bulky cassettes accompanied by the distinctive sounds of Korg and Moog synthesizers, you owe it to yourself to explore a little retrowave. I don't think it will be the next big thing, but it is refreshing and maybe even a bit comforting to hear something old coming back into style once again.