Oedipus at Colonus

by Sophocles

I confess, I haven't been reading anything on my list these past few days. Instead, I've been reacquainting myself with some classical literature. A friend of mine is taking a course in Greek literature and his comments on the Oedipus trilogy ("Oedipus the King", "Oedipus at Colonus", and "Antigone") inspired me to pull out my classic plays (I have a degree in Classical Civilization, so I have many) and revisit some old friends. "Oedipus at Colonus" is the second installation of the trilogy.

It was good to say hello to the old, dying Oedipus and his long-suffering daughters but since it's late, I'm tired, and I've already written more than one analytical paper on the Oedipus trilogy I don't really feel like going into right now. Sorry.

I will say one thing that I found a little disappointing, though I should have known better. That friend of mine - let's call him Paul - remarked that he liked "Oedipus at Colonus" the best, the play which is easily the most ignored of the trilogy. Paul also stated that his favorite line of the play was, "It is I, the accursed." So, I admit, because I couldn't remember the details of "Oedipus at Colonus" as well as I'd liked and because I wanted to go searching for this line, I pulled my copy from the shelf and started reading.

I was disappointed to learn that the line Pual loves so much can be found nowhere in my copy of the play. I should have known better and at least have entertained the possibility that the line Paul quoted wouldn't be in my copy if we had read a publication of the play by different translators. Apparently we did. Reading different translators can be a lot like reading different books altogether. I remember that I disliked Virgil's Aenied until I read the translation by Allen Mandelbaum. In his hands, the epic poem was, well, sheer poetry.

Oh well, the play was still worthy the two days I spent reading it. After I read "Antigone" maybe I search through my books to see if I have copy of "Oedipus at Colonus" that proves to be a bit more poetic than the one I've just finished.

Minority Report

by Philip K. Dick
from Selected Stories of Philip K. Dick

I liked "Minority Report" the movie. It continues to stand as one my favorite Tom Cruise movies, not least of all because it was created in those magical pre-Scientology and Oprah couch-jumping days. The sleek, futuristic sophistication of Steven Spielberg’s production, combined with the adequate tortured-father, hunted-lawman acting of Tom Cruise, and the exceptional screen writing all worked to make what I thought was a suspenseful, entertaining, and thoughtful movie. There are worse things to spend summer movie money on after all, "X-Men 3: The Last Stand" comes immediately to mind. In any case, "The Minority Report" was one of the reasons why I decided to buy the Selected Stories in the first place. I say this all as preface to my review of Philip K. Dick's "Minority Report" because I wish to concede, even before I begin, that it's possible that my opinion of the short story is negatively effected by how much I liked the movie.

I didn't like "Minority Report" the short story. The phrase "Based on a story by Philip K. Dick" is vast overstatement. Yes, there is a suspense plot involving pre-cognitives who predict future crimes; yes, the main characters' names are all the same; and yes, the story is set in the future. That, my friends, is where the similarities end. Instead of the young, capable though troubled Anderton that Cruise plays, the Anderton in the story is old, paranoid, virtually clueless, and finally smug. He doesn't have a missing son, an illegal drug problem, or an ex-wife. The only problem he does have is that he's old. The Anderton of the story isn't motivated by a desire to find his son's kidnapper but rather by the paranoid need to protect his job. He isn't tortured, he's middle-aged, which does have its own problems, sure, but not enough to justify his often frank idiocy.

Among the other many differences which I found particularly disturbing is that the procogs are actual mentally-challenged vegetables. They have no personalities nor do they even receive the reverent respect displayed in the movie. In fact, they are derisively referred to as "monkeys". When Witwer expresses his surprise at the precogs' deformity, Anderton instantly replies, "Deformed and retarded...The talent absorbs everything; the esp-lobe shrivels the balance of the frontal area. But what do we care? We get their prophecies." And here's a sampling of the way the precogs are treated: "The dwarfed, hunched-over figure had sat buried in its wiring and relays for fifteen years...'Jerry', however, remained in the aimless chaos of idiocy; the burgeoning faculty had absorbed the totality of his personality." Poor dude. Don't they have human rights organizations in the future?

Strangely enough, out of all the stories set in the future in Selected Stories, "Minority Report" seems to have aged the worst. The precrime reports are kept on paper cards and recorded on cassette tapes, which don't jibe very well with phones that come with aud and vid lines and ID cards that include brain-wave patterns. Nor did it play very well in my mind as I pictured the moving, wall-sized video screens and the hard, incriminating red balls so sleekly dished out in the movie. Tapes and paper cards? Surely Dick could have done better than that. We'll be lucky if readers ten years from now even know what those are.

Harmony's Way, pt. 1

by Lora Leigh
pgs. 1-199

I am very much aware that I complained incessantly about Leigh's Megan's Mark only less than a month ago. In my defense though, I feel the need to point out that I did say, in spite of my many complaints with Leigh's writing, especially with that of her female characters, I planned to read the next Breed novel, thus, I am merely being true to my word. And I am happy to report that I'm more than half the way through this book and I haven't a single complaint. Alright, that's not entirely true but my complaints are considerably less than they were when I was reading Megan's Mark. But let's start with the good.

Lance is a likeable character - of course most of the alpha males in the Breed Series are. Lance, however, isn't so alpha and bossy that he's an obvious exaggeration of himself. In a word, Lance is perfect, which does have its own problems but I was talking about the good. The biggest surprise of them all is that I actually like Harmony, the heroine. Of all the female characters Leigh has recently written into existence, Harmony's situation gives her the most reason for the characteristic bitchiness that is thankfully absent. The fact that she's rational, understanding, and smart enough to know the difference between being stubborn and stupidity could be attributed to the cold rationality that is surely a requirement to becoming an assassin dangerous enough to claim the moniker "Death". For all her notorious skill at killing molesters and murderers with her knife, she also knows her own heart, even when confused. She may not like what her heart tells her but she doesn't inexplicably lash out at those trying to help her either.

And now for the bad. Lance is beginning to seem a little too perfect. Where are this man's flaws? As far as I can tell, he has none. He's accepting, understanding, honest, loving, protective, silent when he has to be, and forceful when it's called for. Perhaps it's unfair to call that a troubling aspect of the book. Maybe it's only another surprise to find a character so well-balanced in a Breed book. He isn't mocking, inscrutable, or arrogant without explanation. He's simply a generally nice guy. And since I've decided to save my comments on Harmony's brother Jonas for a later date, that, ladies and gentlemen, is my only complaint with Harmony's Way. I know, I'm as suprised as you are. I was beginning to think it was time to begin to migrate away from the Breed Series. It appears as if that time may a little way off yet.

Where They Love Americans...for a Living

by Sean Flynn
from The Best American Travel Writing

If I have ever read a candid article on prostitution written by a man whose agenda isn't either to justify a man's right/need to pay for sex or to fervently pronounce his solidarity with the feminist stance that prostitution always equals exploitation, it was a long, long time ago - if ever. Sean Flynn's article was refreshingly different in that, while he is often sneeringly superior, he is also realistic, informed, and frankly funny, especially when he's poking fun at the "particular class of whoremonger" who convinces himself that the women with whom he pays to have sex actually like him.

But, as Flynn points out, fantasy islands like the Philippines, Thailand, and Costa Rica - the top three destinations for adult vacationing - are popular just because, on these tropical islands where the women are “passionate and easy,” you don’t simply pay for sex. You buy, as one enthusiastic vacationer called it, the “GFE” - i.e. “girlfriend experience”. GFE, of course, referring to the beautiful and sexy girlfriend who hangs on your every word, keeps her opinions to herself, and enthusiastically performs every sexual act for as long as you want it whenever you want it - all for an established fee naturally. In Costa Rica, you don’t pay for the sex, you pay for the fantasy.

The problem however, is not the fantasy but the fact that so many of the men who frequent these places mistake the fantasy for reality. Inexplicably, they fail to realize, or refuse to realize, that prostitutes, especially the really great ones or the really expensive ones, are Oscar-worthy actresses whose job is dependent upon their ability to convince you that you’re the smartest, largest, and sexiest man she’s ever met, irregardless of your beer belly, your receding and graying hair, or your repulsive personality. That’s her job and - trust me, Flynn, or the experts who’ve studied it - most of them don't even like it.

Philosophically, I have no problem with prostitution when it is between CONSENTING ADULTS. I am, however, a firm believer that a woman has the right to do with her body whatever the hell she wants with it. If she wants to sell it for sex, hey - you do you. If a man wants to pay for it, hey - you do you. Unfortunately, things are infinitely more complicated than that, especially when you begin to believe the lies you’ve paid to have whispered in your ear.

The New Yorker, Dec. 11, 2006

Yes, you read that correctly - I have only just read the Dec. 11 issue of The New Yorker. On occassion, especially when I'm traveling, I get horribly behind in reading my New Yorkers. I have issues from 2005 that I haven't read yet - and yes, I do plan to read them, and no, I'm not throwing them out, I don't care what you say. I'll admit that when they're a month or more old, the articles aren't as relevent to the times as they were the week they were printed but that just makes the reading all that more interesting. There is an untold superior and smug pleasure in reading news-based articles with the informed eye of hindsight.

The Al Sharpton snapshot "Fifty Shots" in Talk of the Town transports me back to week an unarmed black man was shot 50 times and killed on the eve of his wedding. And although I may have predicted it, I'm able to look back with a month and half worth of hindsight with the knowledge that one week was all that unjustified over-kill recieved in the national news.

And then there's the David Denby review of "Blood Diamond" and "Deja Vu" that makes me regret not having shown either of those movies enough attention. Well, that's not particularly true of "Deja Vu", which, as Denby informs us, "makes beautiful pictures out of carnage." Intended complement though it may be, it is the very reason why I decided to pass on "Deja Vu" - carnage should never be beautiful, mindless action movie or no. The fact that this is the very case that "Blood Diamond" makes is the reason why I wonder if I can still find this film playing in a theatre. Having enjoyed - if that's the proper way to describe a movie that "breaks your heart" - "Hotel Rwanda" and "The Constant Gardener", movies "set against the background of civil wars, ethnic conflict, and Western meddling and exploitation", Denby has convinced me as all the other rave reviews weren't able to that "Blood Diamond" was worthy of my $9.00. Ah well, another benefit to reading an old movie review - I'm just in time for the DVD.

Upon the Dull Earth

by Philip K. Dick
from Selected Stories of Philip K. Dick

Something else I don't usually read: science fiction - at least not on a regular basis. I try to get in at least one sci-fi book a year but even that's often too difficult to do. I'm impatient and often bored, I've found, with talking, furry aliens from other worlds, disgusting creatures, space travel, robots, and all other manner of fantastic technologies. And I've had the misfortune of reading sci-fi authors whose only point, it seems, is to write about cool aliens and fast space jets. But I refused to give up and last year I finally decided to stop dicking around (pun intended) and bought The Selected Stories of Philip K. Dick, mainly because I'd seen most of the movies based on his short stories and liked them well-enough to wonder and hope that the stories would be better, as is often the case, than the movies they had inspired.

There isn't a movie based on the short story "Upon a Dull Earth" but if there was it would have definitely been a horror flic. This is the creepiest, most disturbing in a send-shivers-down-your-spine kind of way story that I've read in a long while. Jonathan Letham hits the nail on the head when he says that it "reads like a Shirley Jackson outtake." It would be easy to say that "Upon a Dull Earth" is a lesson in being careful what you ask for. In this case, the main character Rick only wants to marry his girlfriend Silvia, have some kids, and grow old with her. Silvia however dies prematurely and when he tries to get her back, he and her both bite off quite a bit more than they can chew. It sounds a bit like Stephen King's "Pet Cemetery" but it's much more subtle than that. Silvia comes back - a lot of her comes back - but she doesn't eat or kill anyone. She's just there and it is creepy.

But to simply qualify this as a "be careful what you ask for" story would be an injustice. In the process, Dick reinvents heaven, angels, humans, God and the "dull earth" between. I'm half-way through The Selected Stories... and I have already decided that Dick has written the best sci-fi I've ever read. I have only just discovered that that's because, although, like other writers of the genre, Dick writes of the future, technology and otherworldly creatures, they are all second fiddle to the men and women who populate his stories. The stories are not about the science, they're about the man. Those are the kind of stories, sci-fi or no, that I would read any day of any year.