Inside Out.....a movie review

Pixar is a movie studio that specializes in crafting animated films that are advertised to lure in the kiddies but whose primary objective is to make their parents cry in public. Their latest offering, Inside Out continues this tradition and throws in guilt for no charge!

The film's opening line summarizes the plot nicely, "Have you ever wondered what's going on inside the head of an eleven year old girl?"  An unanimous "YES" rises up from every parent in the auditorium. For the next hour and a half Pixar shows us. Basically, our little Riley's brain headquarters is a factory of sorts filled with memories, short and long term memories that are stored in a giant colorful warehouse. These memories are divided into five personality islands, family, friendship, goofiness, honesty and hockey.  At the control panel of her consciousness are five competing emotions, brought to life as fuzzy, color coded little people with huge eyes and four fingers. There's Joy, whose sole mission in life is to keep all of the other emotions away from the controls and see to it that Riley is happy all day long. Then there's Fear, Anger and Disgust, all doing their bit at the appropriate time. Finally, there's the insufferably adorable and bespectacled Sadness, who is always ruining everything and generally making Joy's life difficult. It's all quite funny and very clever and for the most part great fun. When our little Riley is learning to skate on the pond out back in her Minnesota home, or rough housing with her parents as a toddler, it is a satisfying, escapist night out at the movies. But when Dad takes his start-up venture, along with his family out to San Francisco, everything changes. Eleven year old Riley must deal with everything from brochilli pizza, to having no furniture for a week because the moving van went to the wrong state, to being the new girl at school, all at once. Suddenly, Joy must make way to lots of Fear, Disgust, Anger, and especially Sadness. 

Let me here add a quibble or two I had with the premise of this fine film. First, if I didn't know better, this film would have me believe that our entire existence on this planet is governed exclusively by our emotions, patently untrue. Secondly, only five emotions? No Guilt,or Envy? How come Pride makes no appearance? But, whenever I catch myself taking issue with the finer points of psychology, I must remind myself...it's a movie and an animated one at that. It wasn't very long ago when these things were called cartoons, so chill out.

Riley has a rough go of it in San Francisco, and seriously, who wouldn't? Soon she becomes sullen, withdrawn, and for reasons that escape me, Joy and Sadness leave headquarters on some wild plot goose-chase that leaves Fear, Anger and Disgust in charge. Predictably, Riley is soon a hot mess. In a scene that I still cannot get out of my head, Riley is sitting at the dinner table being peppered with questions about her day by her well meaning parents. Meanwhile, back at head quarters, Anger grabs the controls. Dad presses the unresponsive Riley for an answer, telling her he doesn't much care for her tone and attitude. Inside of Dads brain, the emotions at his control panel are determined to get tough. "Put the foot down....THE FOOT IS DOWN! Repeat, THE FOOT IS DOWN!" Riley gives in to Anger, explodes in a rage and runs up the stairs to her furniture-less room.

It was at this point that I found myself reliving every failure I had as a Father, every moment when I lost my temper. The time I warned Kaitlin that if she didn't stop throwing a fit ( or merely crying, as her Mother would describe it later), I wouldn't let her go trick-or-treating. She didn't do either that night. I won the battle and lost the war. Or the time I flew into a rage at my crying child who had hurt my feelings by not wanting to leave the sitter. This scene allowed me to relive those failures through the eyes of a child who wasn't capable of articulating her feelings. It brought tears to my eyes.

By the time Joy and Sadness finally make it back to headquarters, Riley has bought a bus ticket back to Minnesota. This is where a beautiful truth of this film comes to life. We learn that life isn't always about joy and happiness, that in fact, sadness is also part of life, not something to be avoided at all cost. Through times of great sadness, others get the chance to come along side of us, to comfort us, to commiserate. We come out on the other side of sadness a better, more complete, more understanding person. We discover just how valuable our family and friends are to us, something we would never understand without those difficult moments.

So, Pixar did it again. You would have thought I would have learned my lesson with Toy Story. As the credits rolled, I was choked up, Pam was crying. 

Wonderful movie!

Winners and Losers

Random observations about last night's debate:

Donald Trump did absolutely nothing to persuade me that he is anything other than the bombastic blowhard that I thought he was. He is an intellectual lightweight, politically incoherent, and by his answer to the night's first question, willing to see Hillary Clinton elected by refusing to forego a run as an independent. Oh, and what exactly do you call that hair color?

I felt sorry for Ben Carson, probably the finest man on that stage. He is clearly a very smart man, but seemed totally out of his depth, overmatched by the event. 

Ted Cruz might be the best debater in the field, but he sounded strident to me.

Jeb Bush started poorly but did get better as the night wore on. It seemed like every answer to every question began with the same phrase, "As Governor of the state of Florida...," which got annoying. I know he's raised a ton of money, but the thought of electing a third Bush is too horrible to contemplate. Family dynasties are fine on PBS, not in American politics.

How the heck did Mike Huckleberry get on the stage and Carly Fiorina didn't?

Chris Christie showed flashes of the thing that attracted me to him two years ago when his town hall performances in New Jersey got everyone's attention. Nobody is quicker on their feet, nobody is better in unscripted moments. His exchange with Rand Paul about data gathering and fighting terrorism was the highlight of the night, terse, intense and riveting stuff. Both men made good solid points, but Christie seemed to win the moment.

Speaking of Rand Paul, he disappointed. I like him. His views are the closest to mine from top to bottom. But there are times when he comes across as a bit of a petulant whiner. When the camera caught him rolling his eyes at something...well, it wasn't a good look.

Scott Walker did fine, I guess. But he looked small to me for some reason, as if the moment was too big for him.

John Kasich benefitted from the exposure. Even though he's been in politics forever, not very many people outside of DC and Ohio know who he is. He did well, I think.

Which leaves me with the night's winner...Marco Rubio. He looked great, sharp with his answers, directly responding to the actual questions instead of launching into speeches. He kept talking about how things have changed radically just over the past five years, that in order to keep up you're going to have to adapt to the future, not dwell in the past. He projected youth and energy, bringing to mind the John Kennedy of 1960. He was the only one who impressed Pam, for what that's worth. 

So, there you have it. I wrote this quickly this morning before reading any punditry on the debate. I didn't want their opinions to influence mine, Now I'll go read what all the wise men had to say and realize how wrong I am about everything!

One more thing. All I hear from my leftist friends is what a pitiful lapdog Fox News is for the Republican Party, a mouthpiece for conservatism masquerading as a news network. Well, last night I saw three tough as nails reporters eviscerating every candidate on the stage, asking tough, uncomfortable questions, forcing the candidates to account for their past statements. In other words, I saw three moderators holding political feet to the fire. Now, whenever the Democrats ever get around to having a candidate debate, let's see how CNN or CBS or NBC handle their candidates! And yes, I did say their. I'm not naive enough to actually believe that anyone in the mainstream media would ever vote for a Republican candidate...come on!! Let's see if the folks at the New York Times can be as in your face with Hillary and Bernie as Megyn Kelly was with Donald Trump. Something tells me I'll be disappointed.

Tonight's Debate

Tonight there's a debate on television. Ten Republicans will stand on a stage and make one minute responses to questions from a moderator. Then they will be allowed thirty second responses to each other. Not exactly Plato vs. Socrates but it will be a far cry better than the debate among the Democratic Presidential candidates.  (Crickets)

Actually there will be two debates tonight. The first will take place much like an undercard for a prize fight. There are seven candidates that haven't polled high enough or paid off the right people at Fox to appear on the main stage. Amoung this group is a former governor of the State of Virginia who has so far raised exactly $193,000 for his campaign, Jim Gilmore. But there he will be, along side people like Bobby Jindal, Lindsey Graham, and Rick Perry. There isn't enough money in the world.....

Much of the focus tonight (along with 90% of the oxygen) will be taken up by Donald Trump, the current front runner and the bane of the political establishment. He and his hair will be at the center of the stage. Regular readers of this blog are aware that I have been highly critical of his Donaldness, sometimes viciously so. There's a reason for that...I've always despised his shtick, so I'm not exactly objective. But watching his candidacy giving the vapors to every member of the establishment punditry class has, I must confess, been delicious fun. I'm starting to understand his appeal, and oddly enough it's very similar to the boomlet of support being experienced by Democrat Bernie Sanders. I will attempt an explanation.

Americans of all political persuasions are tired of timidity. We are fed up with weasels. The carefully crafted, poll-tested sentences that spill forth from our politicians has reached a critical mass which has made them like fingernails on a blackboard. Largely we have brought this on ourselves. Politicians fear telling us the truth in part because they know we can't handle it. Instead we have spent the better part of thirty years sending conflicting messages to them, asking them to at once lower our taxes AND provide us with more stuff. The biggest long term problem we face as a nation is the unsustainability of Social Security, but that topic is called the third rail of American politics for good reason. So, nothing ever gets done, making the problem ultimately harder to fix. But here comes Trump and Sanders. Neither of them feels that they are owed the presidency, and neither of them, in their heart of hearts, believe they will become President. So, they are free to tell us what they think, not what some Madison Avenue polling firm tells them we want to hear. Sanders, in particular, has the courage of his convictions, and as such, is the perfect foil for Hillary Clinton who is desperately trying to figure out what her convictions are. Trump, on the other hand, has the conviction that on his worse day he could do a better job of running the country than the professional butt-kissers who will be standing on the stage around him tonight. He has the added advantage of being able to tell all the big donor types to take a hike. As he is always reminding us, he's got plenty of his own money, and therefore will enter the  White House in debt to no one, especially the Koch brothers.

So what will happen tonight? I have no idea except for this...at the end of the thing, every analyst on MSNBC will be proclaiming Hillary Clinton the big winner, and most of them on FOX will be pointing out all the mistakes made by Trump. And on Friday morning, the Donald's poll numbers will have...improved!

Wish Me Luck!

This afternoon at 4:30, I have my long awaited appointment with the neck specialist over at Tuckahoe Orthopaedic. He has examined the results of my recent MRI and will let me know how he plans to treat me. It could go several different ways...

Best case scenario.

Doctor: For the life of me I don't understand why we didn't catch this before, but your MRI revealed that there's a McDivot in your thermalator between the corpus and the christi right here, see it?

Me: Well, yeah, I guess so. But what does that mean?

Doctor: Well, it certainly explains the pain you've been experiencing. If there was a McDivot that big in my thermalator, my neck would be hurting too! The good news is that, now that we know what the problem is, it's an easy fix. Take these pills twice a day for a week, the thing will dissolve, and you'll be as good as new.

Worst case scenario.

Doctor: Well Mr. Dunnevant, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but both of your troubled bulging disks have ruptured, so I'm afraid we're going to have to operate to repair the damage. The earliest I can squeeze you in looks like the 20th of December.

Me: Are you kidding me? That's five days before Christmas!! And what am I suppose to do about the pain between now and then?

Doctor: Develope a taste for Scotch.

Most likely scenario.

Doctor: Yeah, looks like your neck is gradually wearing out. Right now, it's not bad enough to operate, so I'm going to give you a cortisone shot and we'll see how much relief that supplies. But after a while, a year or two, maybe three, the shots will stop working, then we will have to move on to more invasive treatment, which at some point will include surgery. 

Me: Wait, what about this therapy thing I heard about where they put you in traction and stretch your spine out to releave the pressure?

Doctor: Yes. In the Middle Ages that was called...torture. Be my guest.

Me: What about a Chiropractor?

Doctor: (crickets)

Me: Doctor? I said, what about a Chiropractor?

Doctor: Excuse me, but did I just hear a reasonably well educated man ask me if he should consider going to a glorified massage parlor for treatment of a serious neck condition? By all means, and while you're there maybe you can try applying a few leeches!

Me: I'll take that as a "no."

I'm counting on these cortisone shots working. If they don't I might try the rack thing and a Chiropractor. If none of these things work I might even go the leeches route. I am very tired of living with a neck that hurts all the time. I want to play golf again. I want to be able to back out of a parking space without extreme discomfort, and I've grown weary of my heating pad.

Wish me luck!

Stupid Zebras

A couple of days ago someone posted a meme on Facebook that was a picture of three Zebras with the tag line, "Thank God Cecil's Dead" at the top and the hashtag, #zebralivesmatter at the bottom. At first glance I thought it was mildly funny. But now I'm reading that it is grossly inappropriate and covertly racist. 

See, this is the problem with zebras. They're always trying to make everything black and white. 

Throwing the Baby Out With the Bath Water

Are Republican efforts to strip funding for Planned Parenthood over selling baby parts despite the many other services they provide to women the equivalent of throwing the baby out with the bath water? Wait...probably a bad metaphor.

This is just one of the many problems facing the public relations people at Planned Parenthood. How do you respond to videos that show your people...doing their jobs? This assignment has fallen to the "Crisis communications" firm of SKDKnickerbocker, whose first move was to scrub their own website of any tie to Planned Parenthood. Their second move was to send a memo to members of the media, urging them to blackball any future videos. 

Everybody loves sausage, but nobody wants to see how the sausage is made. Therein lies Planned Parenthood's problem. Millions of Americans support abortion, the right of a woman and only a woman to choose, but not very many people want to take the time to hack their way through the moral and ethical implications of the procedure. Even fewer care to consider the thorny issue of when life begins, the ethical high wire act of partial birth abortion, or the semantic gyrations required to call a full term baby in the womb mere tissue, when six inches later it becomes a living soul.

So whenever something happens that forces us to confront this issue, something like these videos, abortion defenders find themselves on treacherous ground and wind up saying the most ridiculous things. For example, Cecile Richards, President of Planned Parenthood, upon release of the first video apologized for the "tone" of the staff member caught talking casually about the skillful crunching of skulls in between mouthfuls of salad and sips of wine. Ms. Richards claimed that the staffer's remarks "do not reflect the compassionate care which is our top priority." But, compassionate care to whom? Certainly not the baby. Abortionists have gone to great pains since Roe v. Wade to scrub away any emotional language when discussing the object of abortion. They have steadfastly refused to grant even an ounce of humanity to the thing growing inside the womb...mere tissue. So, what was there to apologize for? The staffer was merely speaking of dismembering a tissue mass with no more moral authority than a gall bladder. What on earth was wrong with her "tone"?

If I was SKDKnickerbocker, I would advise PP to attack the messenger and knock off the apologizing. The best defense is always a good offense. Then maybe come up with a catchy marketing slogan...Planned Parenthood...To make an omelette, you've got to break a few eggs!

Cecil the Lion

 The biggest news story of this past week was the killing of Cecil the Lion by a middle-aged American dentist. The pictures of him standing over the dead body of such a majestic beast sent the internet into a white-hot frenzy. By the end of the week, the sidewalk outside of his dental office was festooned with stuffed lions and posters suggesting that he better not show up anytime soon if he knows what's good for him. As of this hour, he is still in hiding.

Since this horrific story occurred simultaneously with the Planned Parenthood video controversy, my Facebook feed has been plastered with anger over the lack of comparative outrage. "One lion gets murdered and people go crazy, while Planned Parenthood butchers babies for their body parts and nobody even raises an eyebrow!!!" Not to be outdone, several civil rights activists complained that white people care more about lions in Africa than they do about the  people of Africa.

Of course, then the hunting enthusiasts descended into the fray with their robust defense of the dentist. "Do any of you people know how an aging lion dies? Usually he gets eaten alive by insects or other lions. The dentist did Cecil a favor!"

So, what's my take? First of all, getting hot and bothered on the subject of comparative outrage is a losing proposition. No one who disagrees with you is going to show enough outrage over your cause to ever satisfy you, so give it up. Secondly, I know plenty of people who were equally pissed off about the Planned Parenthood videos AND Cecil the Lion...ME for one. But I certainly understand why the killing of a majestic lion caused such a visceral reaction while the PP videos haven't so much. It's because...he's a LION!!! Anyone with even a basic understanding of history knows the symbolic nature of the King of the jungle and his place in literary and cultural history. The lion is uniquely revered amoung all of God's creatures. It's majestic, powerful and mysterious. C.S. Lewis,
in his classic, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, didnt give the role of messianic figure to an aardvark, or a wildebeest. Only a lion would do. To see such an animal killed by a guy with apparently  more money than he knows what to do with for mere sport strikes a nerve. The details of the kill made matters worse. Luring the beast out into the open by dragging a dead animal behind a truck, then shooting him with a bow and arrow, tracking him for over 24 hours then fininshing him off with a gun shot seemed cowardly, and made a mockery of the term, sporting kill. So, people flipped out!

I'm not a hunter, with the exception of backyard squirrels trying to eat my tomatoes. I don't think I have it within me to be able to pull the trigger to kill an animal, unless said animal was about to eat me(or my tomatoes). I don't begrudge people who are hunters, it's just not my thing. But when God commanded us to have dominion over the earth, I'm pretty sure he didn't mean it was OK for some rich guy with a mid-life crisis to stalk the king of the beast, so he can hang its head on his wall back at the office like a trophy. I am repulsed by this sort of thing when I see it in much the same way as I am repulsed by the PP videos...because I value life.

And please, don't send me messages informing me of how many ants I kill every day walking down the street, or how many Mosquitos I murder while cutting the grass. If you can't tell the difference between a lion or a fully formed baby in the womb, and a mosquito, then I can't help you. Has the reaction been a little over the top hysterical, especially amoung several Hollywood loons? Sure. Does it bother me that many of the same people who are most agitated over a dead lion, aren't the least bit troubled by 50 million babies since Roe vs. Wade? Yeah, a little. But frankly, in this day and age, I'm encouraged when people get moved by the death of anything, so callous have we become to death and slaughter. So, I mourne Cecil's death, and make no apologies for doing so.