October, The Warriors, and Stupidity
Last year, I blogged every day in October. I called it “31 Days of Post.” I’m going to make a tradition of it. And I’m excited. I’ve got so much to talk about.
But, I’m going to need a brief vacation before hand. So this is the last post until October 1.
Before then, I want to post a mini review of The Warriors and rant a bit on obvious literary stupidity.
This movie, from the late 70s, is freaking awesome. Yeah, there are some awkward moments. And yes, the acting is wooden at times. But it is fun and engrossing.
And, in many ways, it is an example of fantasy without magic. The vision of a street gang infested New York is fantasy in presentation and execution. Seriously. Those costumes! The themes of the gangs!
It also doesn’t hurt that many of the members of the Warriors street gang spend the whole movie practically shirtless.
So, what is the movie about? Gangs across New York have congregated in a park in the Bronx to hear the prophetic vision of Cyrus, leader of the Riffs. But things go wrong when Luther, leader of the Rogues, shoots him. In the ensuing panic, the Warriors are blamed. In the following hours, the Warriors fight to reach their home turf, with a bounty on their heads.
I just love this film.
Now, there are some problems with the movie. The six letter f word is used rather frequently throughout the movie. And one of the Warriors attempts to rape an undercover police officer. So be warned.
And by the way, I wonder how much of the Cyrus character influenced the Rock?
If You Want to Literary Criticism, Do the Fucking Research
I don’t like Orson Scott Card’s politics. Especially when it comes to marriage equality. But that does not mean I would mangle a reading of his works because I loathe his politics.
Which makes a recent essay in Salon so laughable. Because that is exactly what happens.
The thesis is that Card actively defends genocide in Ender’s Game.
That is fucking stupid literary criticism.
I read Ender’s Game almost ten years ago. And I knew that wasn’t the theme of the book.
If anything, the theme is the exact opposite.
Because it is made perfectly clear that the genocide of the “Buggers” is ultimately tragic and heartbreaking. I rarely tear up when I read. But the revelation at the climax is one of the times that I did.
Honestly, where did that reading come from?
See you in October