wildcat

1. After a full week's worth of work I took in Jason and the Argonauts with Michael, Jenny, and the Dans. The upshot was that Michael needs to wear pants so his legs don't get cold, we should have brought snacks, and MY GOD how gay was Hollywood way back when? I kept expecting the Good Ship Argo to randomly change course and head for Fire Island. As expected, Jason showed all the military tactical thinking and observation skills: "Our thanks go to whichever God helped us." Because apparently he was looking in the other direction and didn't notice that, you know, Poseidon himself emerged from the water and held off the tumbling rocks. You know: Poseidon. The God of the Ocean. Trident. He was right there, can't miss him. Also - when the bad guy seeds the ground with the Hydra's teeth (didn't Herakles kill the Hydra, in a completely unrelated myth?), and they spring forth skeletal Harryhausen stop-motion warriors who trudge toward you in a slow fashion, shouldn't you just leave? Rather than standing there slack-jawed until the skeletons randomly and abruptly stop trudging to rush at you screaming?

Wisely, after a couple minutes of accidentally falling off cliffs, the majority of the Argonauts abandoned Jason and went to hide on the boat.

And for the record, if you're hanging around with Hercules? He's extremely susceptible to reverse psychology and will endanger the mission. "Now, everyone, we're going to this secret island OF THE GODS, and we've been told to only take food and water. No touching whatever else is there. Do you understand? Hercules, do you understand?"

"Well, if there's some maidens there, I'm going to have my way with them."

"Look, just don't touch anything would you already?"

"Aye, verily, Mighty Hercules will touch nothing yadda yadda." (Mouths to other Argonauts: Jason's such a little bitch.)

Followed by Hercules and Hylas (brainy, effeminate intellectual to Hercules's brawny masculine muscle) accidentally stumbling upon the treasure OF THE GODS, and Hercules trying to take a "javelin" he finds there ("Actually," says Hylas, "Herc. You know. Based on the scale of this GIGANTIC pearl I just found, that's, you know, a BROACH PIN. Not that I'm saying your stupid, but you're never going to be metrosexual. This is probably why you don't get along with Jason, you know, the one always talking to our Goddess-shaped figurehead.") followed by THE WRATH OF THE GODS, in the form of a giant bronze warrior. For god's sake, DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING, HERCULES.

Oh, and eventually they find Medea, otherwise known as "No, wait, there are almost no women in this film and the guys are going to start to feel awkward what with all the brawny boys in revealing Grecian clothing and man-diapers and such," who is one of the sole survivors of a shipwreck that leaves her floating in the ocean with perfect makeup and hair. The other survivors are unimportant, so only Medea is brought up to Jason's "private quarters" - you know, that random bamboo screen you know Ocastus or Theseus had to drag up from the bottom of the ship to give the illusion that they all haven't been sleeping on the decks like mongrels and Jason has airs above his station. She doesn't really do anything but drug some guards, betray her nation, pray to Hekate, and somehow end up utterly lovestruck with Jason. Maybe Theseus should introduce her to his wife Antiope, one of the Queens of the Amazons to build up her self-esteem.

Incidentally, Hera and Zeus would never get along that well.

Next week we've got The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad.

2. Breakfast this morning: Well, brunch, at ReBar. I had a steamer full of vegetables, rice, and grilled tofu served with a spicy peanut sauce, with a side of a half-avocado just a touch on this side of being ripe enough. Plus, peach ice tea. Followed by Amaretto and Tiramisu gelatto.

3. Accidentally ended up in Munro's and bought three books: A Modern Bestiary-- Ars Poetastrica by Alessandro Gallenzi, a book of poetry. America's Best Non-Required Reading 2004, edited by David Eggers with an introduction by Viggo Mortensen. America's Best Short Stories 2005 edited by Michael Chabon. This last one features yet another story from the Joyce Carol "I write Six Stories Before Breakfast, sitting on the loo" Oates canon, and "Bohemians," by George Saunders.

I haven't read a fresh Saunders in a while. I once got an A on a paper for Short Fiction Techniques which basically had Meringue kidnapping Saunders and tying him down to a torture device to extract important fiction-writing information from him.

4. Steph has apparently made it around the sun yet again, with no major ill effects. Somebody said Canoe Club, so I'm going to try and make it to that for a little bit tonight.