Definitions of Olympic Events

    I know, the London Games of 2012 ended about five months ago, and the Sochi Winter Games of 2014 won't be held until, well, over a year from now, and then we gotta wait until 2016(!!!) for the Rio Games....but, you just gotta love the Olympics, right? All those wacky sports, and the things-that-look-like-they-would-be-incredible-to-do-if-you-knew-you-wouldn't-get-hurt-attempting-them...and besides, in four years, we'll be wondering, "Now, what events are in the Olympics again...?" 
     So, here's a refresher course on each event. Enjoy! 

Archery - The act of launching a sharp stick like a missile at a target, easy to see progress if you practice semi-regularly. The way people have gotten food for thousands of years, and the reason so many men pretended to be Robin Hood or William Tell when they were little boys. Can be dangerous for nearby animals. Received a large spike in popularity from a series of superpopular, ultrairritating and poorly-written books, as well as a movie. 

Badminton - That game that's sort of like tennis but wimpier, which no one really knows how to play, but it's always set up at picnics, and the little kids chase each other all around with the rackets while wondering why the ball-thing is called a "birdie", and what kind of bird it was made from. 

Basketball - The best game in the world that was invented out of desperation by a preacher teaching a phys ed class using two old peach baskets. This led to the Harlem Globetrotters, "Hoosiers", Michael Jordan, ESPN becoming a dominant force in television, and the state of Oklahoma actually banding together for a common cause for six months of the year. 

Beach Volleyball - All the cool factors of volleyball, but played barefoot in sand, which could, if one was scientifically-minded, lead to interesting experiments on how sand particles trap heat. Can lead to friendships being made or frantic prayer. Occasionally played in swimsuits. 

Boxing - Where two guys beat each other up only by punching the other guy above the waist, and nobody else really cares or has any idea how the winner is decided. 

Canoeing/Kayaking - Paddling a small boat as fast as possible without falling in the water. Sometimes used in sappy love scenes in romantic movies. 

Cycling - Riding a bike really fast without falling over. Very hard and not much fun to do. 

Diving - Something done only by insane people, leaping off a very high object head-first into very deep water. Boring to watch, the FCC should outlaw the televising of men's competitions. 

Equestrian, aka "Riding Horses" - The only Olympic event involving animals, so that's kinda neat. But the dressing up in funny outfits and prancing around looks silly. Not practical at all, but the leaping-over-objects part looks fun. 

Fencing, aka "Swordfighting" - They announce the combatants, who then stare at each other and say the immortal words: "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die." Except they can't actually hack each other to pieces, which would be bloody and gruesome and not make very good ratings at all...and they wear beekeeper suits. It would be much more interesting if they were allowed to wear costumes, or there was a mandatory exchange of witty dialogue, or if they could use lightsabers. 

Field Hockey - Uh....hockey without ice? Sounds easy enough. But, wait...how do you play hockey?

Gymnastics - The always-entertaining showcase of skills that would hardly ever be practical in everyday life. Except for the balance beam. But really, how often are we required to know how to dance and do cartwheels, or hang perfectly still suspended in midair, or leap over random objects? 

Handball - Another sport no one in the US or Canada knows what is. Although from what little I've heard of it, it sounds like Calvinball. 

Judo - Kind of like boxing. Except instead of punching each other, you kick the other guy. And it sounds so much more impressive and scary if somebody says, "Oh, yeah, I know judo." 

Modern Pentathalon - Five events of something or other. Not too large a following. 

Rhythmic Gymnastics - Ballet dancing with sticks, little balls and streamers. Makes no sense at all. 

Rowing - A great upper-body workout, used to move across water. Only used in ordinary life on floats along the river, which if taken in middle of summer are basically waterlogged hiking trips. 

Sailing - Using outdated slow methods of sustainable green energy to see who can be the first to a certain point. Sort of like racing snails or turtles. Only rich people near the ocean can do this in normal times, thus 98.7% of the country has no interest whatsoever. 

Shooting - Using a gun to hit a target. Much harder than archery, much more expensive, and more dangerous. 

Soccer - The world's most popular sport, most people have played this as kids. Awesome to play, not as great to watch. Often used in sports movies. 

Swimming - Seeing who can stay above the water and get out of it the fastest, only should be done in times of dire emergency. 

Synchronized Swimming - Cloned dancing inside a swimming pool? Why? 

Table Tennis, aka "Ping Pong" - One of the events played often by normal humans, although at a lot slower, less cool fashion. Good for catching up on news or solving problems, and when passionate enough about it, a fantastic cardio workout. 

Tae-kwon-do - Some type of martial arts, can kill people. Interesting if demonstrated in talent shows.

Tennis - An awesome game that looks much easier than it actually is. Teaches you subtlety, that gentleness is more effective than forcing your way through to get things done. You can get a good tan playing it, terrific stress reliever. 

Track(aka "Running") and Field - The Olympic discipline most in use by college students, getting from one place to another in as efficient a manner as possible. And running just makes you feel good! The other events, the "Field" part, focus on random things like leaping the farthest, throwing long spears or chunks of metal the longest distance, or using a flexible stick to leap over gigantic buildings in a single bound. 

Trampolining - Yes, somehow this is an Olympic sport. What the thrill-seekers who terrify their moms with backflips do when they grow up. Very cool to watch. 

Triathalon - The ultimate test of one's athleticism: Swimming a mile(!), then biking for a long ways,then running a marathon(!!). Few try it, which is why anyone who does automatically has their respect level go up about eight notches. 

Volleyball - is awesome. Definitely teaches perseverance, is a great stress reliever, and a good way to meet new people. Played on many surfaces, including wood, concrete, linoleum, sand, gravel, and kitty litter. For some reason viewed as a girl's game. 

Water Polo - The worst parts of nearly every ball game thrown together in a act of torture surely devised by Count Tyrone Rugen. Football or hockey without any sort of padding, where you can pummel people MMA-style without penalty, in the middle of a freaking pool?! Why not add sharks and pirahnas into the mix and have snipers shooting while they're at it? Seems horrendous to play, awful to watch. 

Weightlifting - Large drug-users lifting impossibly heavy objects. Yawn. 

Wrestling - The only event left from the Greek Olympics, but thankfully the participants wear clothes now, they try to trap ("pin") the other person to where they can't move. Doesn't involve a ball, so most people stay home instead of watching wrestling matches. 

The Amazing Spider-Man

       Rewatched "The Amazing Spider-Man" twice over Thanksgiving break, enjoyed getting to study it further. 

       There was something different in the wind as the release date kept sneaking up closer and closer...first the shocking news that it would be without Sam Raimi, Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst and everybody else, then hearing that Mary Jane wouldn't be involved at all, and then that a British guy would be Peter Parker...the Lizard would be the villian, which sounded cool...and then there were the promos run during the NBA Finals, spliced together with highlights of the Thunder and Heat. Kinda interesting how often it would go from Spidey to KD or Westbrook or Harden, and from the Lizard to LeBron...well, the bad guy won that round, but there will be another day, sometime....
       Oh, right....the movie. Yeah. Well, like I said, I asked around who wanted to see it, Sam and Josh both were all for it. Suzanna, Cassie and Courtney jumped on board, Bennett followed; and then Marie and Katie and Lilya all asked if they could come along that morning. "Um...sure....we'll need to figure out how to get to the mall, though...." 
     
       Boy, was that ever a headache. Actually, the whole project was like construction work; as soon as you (think) you have one part tied down, another place needs to be worked on. At first we were going to go to Woodland Hills mall, a good generally-centerish spot from where everybody came from. Then we realized Woodland Hills didn't have a theater. "But isn't there a theaer like across the street or something...?" "Yeahhhh....but it's the cheap one that shows movies that a few months old, not the brand-new ones." "Okay...what about Promenade?" "Promenade's creepy! I always feel like - I don't know....it just doesn't feel safe." "Oh, I know, it's awful. But it does have a theater..." "...That isn't showing the movie." "....Oh." "Yeah." Hmm...."Hey, I think there's a theater over by Promenade that's within walking distance; could that work?' "We'll make it work, somehow; there's been too much planning gone into this already to back out now." "You got that right..." 
      So, it's Sunday, finally; the expedition is all planned out. We've enlisted the help of some parents to get us over there, and then we find we have about three new travelers along for the ride, throwing us into a scramble to figure out how to deal with the latest wrinkle. "If you can get a ride with somebody, I guess that's cool..." Stephen and Nick, newish guys to the youth group we were trying to welcome in, were going to come, but couldn't make it at the last second. Dylan probably would have came, too, but he was on vacation or something. I guess church went about ordinary, I have no idea, it was a few months ago and I was having a hard time paying attention. 

       We arrive at the mall, Cassie, who beat half our group there, has this quizzical and somewhat distressed look on her face. "I don't think they're showing it here, guys." "Oh, yeah..." Sam looks slightly embarrassed. "I guess we forgot to tell you the plan, huh?" "You're right, they aren't showing it here," I pick up the story. "which is why we're eating lunch here, and then walking to the theater." "Ohhh....." "Sorry....thought we'd told everybody that....so many details flying here and there. It's been a little hectic." "Yeah, and there was kind of a lot going on this morning." 
       There was, too...a lot of strange, tense undercurrents that didn't leave any clues just then for why they existed. But our gang managed to find the food court, took a look around to see what the food options were, then ate lunch. I wasn't hungry, just ate a brownie coated with peanut butter and chopped Reese's. Most of the others got Subway. Somehow or another, the conversation turned to those who couldn't make it, including Cassie's brother Garrett, and from there to speculation about his new girlfriend. Cassie's saying she wished that she had a boyfriend, and Bennett leaps in emphatically: "ME TOO!!!" Instant stunned silence for two seconds. "That was not - Wow....you know what I meant..." So. Awkward. It was pretty hysterical, though....once we were finished laughing, somebody involved with the CVS Scotch-Tape Incident commented on the similarities between the two statements; and that set off another round of uncontrollable mirth. 

       It's nearly 2 p.m, there's just enough time to walk over before the show starts. So we rush out the first door we see, and walk around the building....and around the building....and around the building....and realized we went in a huge circle. (The Horrible Sense of Direction strikes again!) We finally get pointed the right way, and race across too many large traffic-laden streets, going about a mile or so until we reach the movie theater, where we purchase tickets, head into the wonderful cool darkness of air-conditioning, waaaaiiiiitttt for those standing in line for popcorn, and then, finally, go pick our seats. We didn't have to be so choosy, I suppose; since there was only about ten other people in the whole rest of the theater, but this was a rare experience for most of us, and we wanted to make the most of it. 
       Well, nobody warned us about the previews. They started about 2:07 p.m. or so and rolled for TWENTY MINUTES STRAIGHT. Preview after preview after preview...most for shoot-'em-up actioners like The Bourne Legacy, The Dark Knight Rises, or a Total Recall reboot, crass "comedy" buddy movies like The Watch, or an interesting-looking Kevin James flick titled Here Comes the Boom, featuring an out-of-shape schoolteacher becoming an MMA fighter. And then without any heads-up a cousin to Pac-Man or Dig Dug or something fills the mammoth screen, a 1980's video game is being played. And then we see that it's the newest Disney movie coming out, about a video-game villain in a midlife crisis trying to become a hero, called Wreck-It Ralph. It stood out, for one, being a cute throwaway kid's movie in the middle of all these kill-people, loads-of-violence-and-gore films. I want to see that, kinda...looks good. 
       Yeah, so, anyway, the movie began about 2:30 p.m, it was different right from the opening credits. I had some trouble following the actual movie at first, examining all the new camera angles and editing techniques, adjusting to the lighting and dialogue, and otherwise noting the successfullness of how being trapped in a dark box can suspend disbelief so well. Movie theaters have amazing sound systems, by the way. So I was pretty distracted, monitoring all the chaos leading up to/on the trip, was hoping it would go down as a successful venture. Kind of like the person with the camera at Christmastime who runs all over the place documenting the holiday and never actually taking part of it, having been directing things behind the scenes so much as to not taking part in the actual play.
       And then I was noting the changes of lighting, camera, editing, scenery, wardrobe, music,ACTORS....and dialogue. And trying to unsuccessfully reconcile the obvious contradictions between this and the trilogy, never mind that this is a total reboot....took me about an hour to get fully involved with the plot, I wasn't really that impressed with the film. Peter was too cool-looking to be a believable nerd, the dialogue seemed mumbled all the time, the plot was shallow, and with the exception of Dr. Connors, every role was overacted and felt forced, and Peter and Gwen seemed way too old for their roles. The scene where Peter asked Gwen out was great; and there were a few zippy one-liners that were worthy of a grin, but overall I didn't know what to think of it, honestly...a real head-scratcher of a movie, that was maybe better cinematically than the original, but far short in terms of storytelling to the trilogy. But, then I had to remind myself that it's the beginning of a new trilogy, so hopefully things will make sense later on. I (of course) stayed behind for the credits, like I usually do, and there was this confounding miniscene halfway through that left us on even more of a cliff than we were already. I kinda went into a writer's vortex, a sort of trance that's somewhat indescribable how to explain. You kind of go into the story's world and attempt to know everything in it; to understand the entire universe of the tale. This movie was puzzling, it was an especially deep vortex they had to pull me out of. "Hey...you okay, Wes?" (Startled look at finding myself back in the real world) "Huh?! Oh....uh, yeah, I'm fine. Just was.. thinking." Cassie grins, knowing what the vortex is like. "He'll be all right." 

       Courtney hated it, I wasn't sure what I thought of it. This made Mom even more curious to watch it than she already was; so she was anxiously keeping an eye out for when it would come out on DVD. "Hey, we ought to see if Netflix has the new Spider-Man in stock yet!" "Already looked." "Did you put it in the queue?" "About two months ago, yep." "Oh, good! I'm moving it up to the top of the list."  So about the first thing Mom said when I got back for Thanksgiving break was: "Spider-Man came in yesterday! When do ya want to watch it?" Dad decided he'd watch, too, so we set in the family room and watched the film. It's a long movie...two hours and sixteen minutes. And there were a ton of previews here, too(I timed it later while doing laundry, there's at least thirteen minutes of trailers on the DVD.) 

       I liked it a lot better the second and third times. It's a darker, more realistic world; not quite as touching and at times corny as the trilogy. We don't know the characters' backstories and histories very much, so that kind of takes away your involvement as an audience. The dialogue feels more like true-to-life conversations, which somehow loses points, even though technically it should be better. And there isn't those awkward spaces where a phenomonal line is followed by a ridiculously out-of-place one. Denis Leary as Captain Stacy fit his role well; there was a few good exchanges and snappy insults, like the meatloaf, or the climbing up the fire escape. Like "Is that a real knife?" "Yes it's a real knife!" Or Gwen's exchange with her dad: "Hey hon, do you want some cocoa?" "No, Dad, I don't want some cocoa. I'm seventeen years old, not some little kid." "All right...I just thought last week somebody said her fantasy was to live in a chocolate house." "Welll...that would be impractical!...And fattening!" 
       The plot is shallow, yes; but it's very suspenseful...keeps you guessing all the time. A very slow-paced movie, but the action scenes are very set in this world(Strange, I know, seeing as they're between a gigantic mutant lizard and a human-sized arachnid, but....yeah.) Really intense. 
       Curt Connors makes a great villain, a man capable of great things, who went just a little off, which leads to some much mayhem....why are the bad guys so well-known and interesting to study throughout history? Darth Vader the most famous face of Star Wars. Napoleon and most of the Roman caesars. Hitler's rise to power. Anakin Skywalker's fall. Doc Ock's attempt to create a new energy source. The Lizard's efforts to restore health to amputees. MacGyver's arch-enemy, the incredibly crafty and malvolent Murdoc. Gollum. Maybe because they show us what can happen if we abuse the powers and gifts we've been given...and that in trying to do the best for others, we not only have to have the right motives(Genuinely wanting to help, not greed or lust or personal gain or pride or....), but we also have to go about it in the right way. We can't take shortcuts, because those are the paths to our downfall. Which is why it's so terrifying sometimes, this life, of always trying to make the right choices, right decisions. It's hard in places, what's right and good can be twisted and rearranged all everywhere so that we don't know which way to go. Thankfully, those of us who are Christians have the Holy Spirit leading and guiding us onward in the right way, but being humans, we kinda have this way of sinning. A lot. 

       Anyway, comparing all four films side-by-side, you see a lot of similarities: A gradual introduction to the main conflict, highlighted by lots of minor conflicts, violence, and personal growth. The villian is usually taken care of by the end, there's a lot of relational problems between characters, a lot of webs woven. We hear some good advice given, observe how mistakes can be overcome, and we our somehow...inspired by those stories. To live our ordinary humdrum lives in a way that's more heroic, to be better people.
       Something I was wondering the last few days/weeks, which was sort of brought up again by the movies: Which teaches us more, external conflict, which you may take part in, but otherwise don't have control over, or internal conflict, where it doesn't involve any outsiders, but for that same reason, makes it so much harder to deal with? What makes the better story? And which is easier to deal with? 
       I don't really know. But whatever trials and struggles we face, no matter how dark the road ahead may seem; God will not test us beyond what we can bear(1 Corinthians 10:13), and He will provide a way through the whatever-it-is that we're facing. We just have to do our best to hang on to the truth of His Word, and try to believe the promises and follow His commands. Which is a lot easier said than done sometimes, which is why the church exists, to strengthen and encourage our fellow believers.

       Oh, by the way....witty comebacks towards the problem may not solve all of it, but they don't hurt, either. And they make us feel better. 

Why I Am A Storyteller

     This post is adapted from an essay I wrote for Comp I my freshman year of college, and it's probably going to be a lot more enthusiastic and much harder to keep track of than the essay was. 

       "It's a little hard to describe yourself. Our natural tendency to guard against pride blurs the lines between self-esteem and arrogance, creating an ultra-effective system of avoidance based off humility. We tend as a society to downplay our own skills, and use others we know as mirrors to see ourselves. So for that reason, it was a little hard for me to get started on this essay[the prompt was "Choose one word to describe yourself, one experience that changed your life, or something else that I can't remember], but I guess the word I would choose would be "storyteller". 

       Why a storyteller? Well, that kind of began with my grandma, a lady named Linda. She worked, among other things, as a librarian at a nearby Arkansas college, and later at the public library in town. She'd occasionally bring me to work with her when I'd come to visit. She introduced me to the wonderful books of Leonard Kessler(His animals are awesome.), Peggy Parish(Gotta love Amelia Bedelia), Norman Bridwell(Clifford!)  and Matt Christopher(Sports!), and she would always be able to satisfy my childlike curiosity by retelling stories of what life was like when she was growing up. We'd invent tales, too, involving the animals on the farm, we called them Critter Stories. 

        My mom was instrumental in developing that love of reading, too, encouraging me to read anything I could get my hands on(within reason, of course). I discovered the historical fiction of Robert Elmer, found a lifelong friend in Mark Twain(love him), and discovered the amazing world of Greek mythology through The Book of Virtues. (That is a FANTASTIC book, by the way. On the back cover, one of the blurbs from a review says that "this book should be given to all parents upon leaving the hospital", I completely agree. Sitting on my shelf right now is the same dog-eared copy that I first dove into when I was seven or eight, and good grief, I'll probably reread and still enjoy it when my kids want to hear a story.) 
       [Where was I? Got distracted....the hardest part about writing this essay was to keep it under three doublespaced pages, I barely succeeded. Now that I'm updating it, I'm free to go down rabbit trails and recommend things....by the way, Rabbit Hill by Robert McCloskey is a great story, that I first read because Marguerite Henry enjoyed it. And if such a great author as she was would recommend it so highly, well, I just had to see for myself. And most of Robert McCloskey's writings were very good anyways.] 
       I memorized The Story of Ferdinand(Mom read it to me on request every night over and over and over...I wonder if she got tired of it?) and The Giving Tree. (Same thing, and I've always thought Shel Silverstein looked like the scariest person on Earth.) It's always been interesting to ponder those stories, wonder exactly what life was like for the tree or Ferdinand, watching as the world went by. 
       And the PICTURES! My goodness, all those stories have wonderful illustrations....Robert McCloskey, Shel Silverstein, Leonard Kessler, Charles Schultz, Wesley Dennis, Wallace Tripp, Lynn Sweat, Norman Bridwell....I've always wished I could draw. If I could only have one fiction piece achieve lots of readers, I'd want it to be a children's picture book. Not a mildly interesting one, but a great one, like all these classics I've been mentioning, that captures your imagination and lets it grow, jump into and become a part of that universe, to know the characters like your best friends and hang on to that love throughout your whole life. 

       The TV shows I watched probably had a deep influence on me, too; Wishbone and Arthur were two of my favorite PBS shows, Reading Rainbow was good, too. Recess, Doug and 101 Dalmatians on ABC's One Saturday mornings(None of these are on Netflix, by the way....most of the shows I really enjoy aren't. It's annoying.), and seriously, can anything ever top The Andy Griffith Show? I think not. Also the WB's 7th Heaven and Pax's Doc and Early Edition would go right up there in my favorite-shows-ever list. They all exposed me to character development, multiple story arcs, and the importance of conflct, providing a good base for beginning to tell stories of my own. 
       [I didn't discover MacGyver until my early teens, but that totally belongs up there. Why don't they make good comedies like Full House anymore?  That is a great show!] 

        They weren't much, just stories like every little kid makes up at one point or another, but Mom and Mimi both enjoyed them and encouraged me to keep working on them. So over the years I've dabbled in short stories in my spare time. 

        I discovered Agatha Christie when I was about thirteen, while cleaning stuff out of the old two-story house on the farm, and knew immediately I'd found a master of the craft I hoped to make my own someday. I devoured about half of her eighty-plus works in about eighteen months(after that, the library didn't have any more), and rediscovered Louisa May Alcott's wonderful way of describing life. Interpersonal relationships and good dialogue were some of the main takeaways I got from Lucy Maud Montgomery's "Anne of Green Gables" series, that time period from the Civil War to the 1920's produced a ton of amazing writers. (Louisa May Alcott, Lucy Maud Montgomery, Mark Twain, O. Henry, Agatha Christie, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Zane Grey....) 
      [Miscellanous books I like that haven't already been mentioned: Victor Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Where the Red Fern Grows and Summer of the Monkeys, both by Wilson Rawls; Fred Gipson's Old Yeller; Upchuck and the Rotten Willy and The Backwards Bird Dog, both by Bill Wallace; C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia; J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings....]

       I got some training on how to write more effectively at fourteen when I began writing sports for local newspapers, learning how to use words to tell a factual, here's-what-happened, the-end news story, and discovered the worlds of modern-day authors William Goldman(The mind behind The Princess Bride, the book is even better than the movie!), Bodie Thoene(Amazing writer of numerous historical fiction series, read everything from her you can get your hands on), Phillip Gulley(Harmony series, great humorous look at small-town living) and Jan Karon(Mitford series, extremely high recommendation!!!) 
       Always enjoyed acting and doing improv comedy, that sense of creativity on the run, but with a tight structure to follow as a guide. 
       And I grew up with country music on the kitchen radio, which is all about stories. A handful of basic outlines, but with so many variations in plot and angles of thinking....it's all about how to clearly grab the listener and make them understand the tale, the really wonderful songs make you effortlessly step into their universe, you understand everything that's going on. 

       My ideal personality I'm trying to achieve, I guess, would be a mashup of  MacGyver, Peter Parker, Jo March and Atticus Finch: the resoucefulness and smarts of MacGyver, Peter's sense of humor and striving for balance in the crazy world he lives in, Jo's impulsiveness and creativity, and the strong moral values and courage that Atticus displays.
        [I'm not completely sure what I meant by this paragraph....but my teacher was a hippie, and it sounded like the right kind of meaningless meaningful touch. I guess I meant that those are all qualities I admire in each of those characters, but there's so many more I could add to this list....Oh, good grief! Snoopy, Linus, the way Sydney Carton dies(I hated A Tale of Two Cities, by the way. No, I hate anything by Dickens), Jay Berry Lee, Charlotte A. Cavatica, so many others....] 

       Stories teach us about life. They show us how the world works, set an example of how we should act, which sometimes means showing the other side of that coin, what happens when we fail or disobey. This is why Jesus taught in parables, because we're wired to retain the things we hear through story, and then think about the stories we hear, and learn from them. Great ideas can be passed on, traits of virtue praised in legends. We get our morals and values from the stories we absorb and drink in, which makes the art of storytelling the most effective teaching tool there is. (And also, this is why we need good discernment skills.)

       What my life will be like up ahead, I don't know. Might I ever have a novel published, or maybe some picture books? How will the switch to digital technology impact the journalism and publishing worlds as we know them? And does anyone really care about one more collection of words strung together, honestly, if  I did write something, would anyone read it? I don't know the answers to very many of these questions, or what form my writing may take. But whatever channels it goes into, I will always find stories, and they will always have a market. If not in money, then in time, because little kids will sit and listen for hours and think that I'm one of the most amazing people on the planet, knowing all these things, and taking the time to explain them. They might be inspired to create their own tales, remembering the history or fables I relayed to them, and the chain would just go on from there. 

       I am a storyteller." 

Searching For the Light

  This was my first attempt at a college essay. I kinda overshot the scope necessary....lol. This was the first project assigned in Comp I last fall, we were supposed to read Plato's essay "The Allegory of the Cave" and then write something about it, a review of what it said and what it meant. I guess what he was expecting was about three sentences something like this: "There once was a guy named Plato who lived a long time ago in Greece. He wrote an essay called "The Allegory of the Cave", which talked about finding knowledge. I had no idea what this essay was talking about."
      Instead, I wrote out the following four-page paper, all our teacher(the hippie Mr. Deiter) wrote on mine was "More than I was looking for."

Searching for the Light

     "Plato(429 B.C.-348 B.C.) was one of the deepest thinkers in the history of ancient Greece - a land that produced one of the most intriguing civilizations ever recorded. As such, he has been studied for over two thousand years, many of his ideas influenced later theories and ways of thinking, which further influenced cultures and mindsets. His writings and speeches contain many grand concepts that are a little hard to understand, such as those expressed in "The Allegory of the Cave", which was part of a larger utopian treatise entitled "The Republic". 

     Mainly addressed to his students and disciples, a specific student named Glaucon is mentioned several times throughout the piece. In structure, it's a learned dialogue between teacher(Plato) and student(presumed Glaucon), a dialogue told in allegory to help the student retain the information and understand it easily. 

     The picture(for that is what an allegory is; a story told in easily applicable mental pictures to make its point) essay opens with a scene of humans in "an underground den", heavily shackled to keep from moving, who have been imprisoned in this cave since childhood. A mammoth fire is burning, keeping all they see in flickering shadow, which is their whole world. All they know is what is in the cave with them, or rather, what they perceive to be in the cave with them. Seeing the shadows of objects in the firelight, the reflections become the cave-dwellers' truth. 

     Now, as Plato supposes, one of these men was somehow able to escape from his chains, leaving the cave and entering into the sunlight. His eyesight would be dazzled; he would be blinded by the shock of perceiving the light for the first time, it would be overwhelming. The reality he knows - that of the shadows - is nowhere to be seen, and the place in which he stands seems distorted and alien. If someone was to tell him that the world he was now in was the true one, and that the world which he left is an illusion, he would (quite logically) deny that statement. As Plato says, "Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formally saw are far truer than the objects which are now shown to him?" 

     Now, being forced to look at the direct source of the light in the world, the pain of this effort will be infernal; his whole self will explode from the strain, and he will be able to see nothing clearly. 

     Over time, however, his eyes will be able to take in more clearly more and more of the objects and men that he sees in this world. Eventually, he will even be able to see the sun, seeing and observing all these things, will be able to form ideas and notions about the existence and purpose of that which he sees. 

     Given his new abilities to be able to truly see the way things are, he will naturally pride himself on the accomplishment of undergoing such a change, and would pity those still locked into the old life he once knew, finding them lesser beings. Now supposing he was forced to return to the cave, his eyes would be confounded by the darkness, and if in a contest against those imprisoned always in measuring the shadows on the wall, he would look ridiculous and fail miserably. Other would say that after leaving the cave, he lost his eyesight, and thus attempting ascend out of the depths was foolhardy. If anyone was foolish enough to try such a mad scheme as to leave, he should be put to death, in order to escape such a cruel fate. 

     The representation is this: The actual world, that which we see, is the prison, the fire our sun. The light is the spiritual world, the mental world; that which cannot be known in the cave. The journey upwards symbolizes the trek of mankind. As they climb higher and higher in the thirsty search for knowledge, our souls come to understand things of which, farther down the path, we never would have dreamed existed. 

       Plato goes on in this exposition of the tale to explain that want to know, striving to understand; once they come to realize that there is so much out there in the world, we try to rationalize or explain all the unknown "Whys" we encounter.
     A truly educated person, however, is one who climbs the mountain out of the depths, absorbs all that he can, and then returns to the bondage of ignorance, and in explaining his newfound knowledge, he sets his fellow prisoners free so that they can start on their own pilgrimages, their own journeys towards discovery, further enlightening and enabling those who follow after.
      Contrary to Plato's ideas, mere possession of knowledge is not the end-all of humanity, the ultimate pinnacle and purpose of mortal achievements. Knowledge is merely a tool, a vitally essential tool; but a tool nevertheless. Is crafting a hammer and some nails going to create buildings for men to dwell and do business in? Simplistically speaking, yes, that would be true. But a closer examination would reveal the hammer and nails, once crafted, need to be used for their appointed end:  that of the construction of the building. In the same way, once we have that knowledge in our toolbox of the mind, the only way to do anything worthwhile in the world is by using that knowledge for its intended purpose; that of serving the greater good and playing a role in something far greater than anything we mortals could possibly fathom. This is what the essay means to me.
     Many people, including myself, believe in Christ, and part of our duty is to glorify God and point others to Him. Not only by preaching, but by more everyday tasks like healing, listening, counseling or otherwise just showing up on time for work each day and giving the day's chores all that we have. Other religions also state a belief in some grander purpose, and those followers strive to understand how to fulfill what they can do in the world, and know what they can't. Still others, trying to ignore the microscopic pin-drop of their lives in the mural of eternity, take this knowledge they find and apply it by saving the environment, or find some fulfillment by decrying that "There is no purpose in life; we have no reason to exist."
     That isn't ttue. As long as humans continue to exist, they will know that there is more out there. They will instinctively understand, on some level, that they know nothing except that which they perceive, and that their perspective much be widened and given depth. Once they understand this, the search for knowledge begins. And once this knowledge is attained, they know, whether they choose to obey the internal command or not, that they must go back to where the path started and share what they found with others. This is what the essay means.
     That leaves one question unanswered - How will this knowledge be used? For corrupt, twisted means of personal gain and greed? Or for freely sharing and providing a resource for future generations to come?" 

Sniffing Around the Place Again

    This was a gossip column written by my dog Sunny, for the fictional Fenceville Weekly News. Written July 17, 2012; originally posted as a Facebook note; published on here September 4, 2015.

    As my fellow beagle Snoopy once said, "Good writing is hard work." Sometimes it comes easily and news just rolls right off my tongue, other times I can barely get my paws to set on the keyboard and make it come alive.

   My good friend Sport Bossdog passed away a year ago this morning, he was 86. He was born in Pryor, Oklahoma on May 12, 1999, one of a litter of about eight purebred Austrailian Sheperds. He met our family the day after the Fourth of July that year, they'd just moved to Morris, and Wesley could finally have a dog of his own. He was a playful puppy, flying around this way and that, sometimes kinda knocking people down in his excitement. He was devoted to his family, and always tried to keep them happy and safe, Mom's training served him well. As he grew up, he became friends with Taz and Ty Rae, Ty and Snowy Haworth, and Max Byars(of course, I was there, too, for some of the time, but this isn't the time for my story). He and Max were closer than I ever saw with another dog, they'd often dig through the fence to explore the other's yard(okay, I sometimes helped a little. Nope, a lot. But, I was young and carefree - What's that saying that's so popular lately, "YOLO"? Well, you do only live once). In wintertime, Sport would work, aside from his regular duties as a security gaurd, as a sled dog, pulling Wesley, Courtney and their friends down the pool-table sloped streets of town, a particular trick I remember was dumping the riders into the snowbanks of a ditch which always happened to be conveinently nearby whenever he wearied of his husky imitation. And one time when the family was visiting Grandpa, Sport came along and decided that he may as well do some work while he was there, he rounded up every single cow in the pasture and herded them up by the gate. He was pretty proud of himself over that one. He would help babysit Trevor and Amy, making sure nothing happened to them on his watch. He hated fireworks, his favorite TV show was "The Rockford Files". When Skeet came along he taught him how to lead, which was odd, since he didn't make friends or take a liking to people very often. Just the family, was about all the people, and Max, Jenny and I were the only dogs I know of. He had his faults, yes; but don't we all? A workaholic, he didn't have much need for attention, but he was devoted to those he loved, and tried to make their lives better.    

   Wesley...it's hard to believe he's going to college next month. Should he be shooting baskets in the backyard or something? Learning how to tell the news? Having conversations with me about stories that needed plotting, that girl at church he sort of likes, the backstage pass on what what happeneing with the homeschool group's musicals and skits? Babysitting my puppies, helping me name them, those sadder times when Mimi, Shadow, Rocky, Klipsey or Sport died. He was so scared before he went off to camp for the first time...I said, "If you can just force yourself to leave, by the time you're two hours into the trip you'll have the time of your life." And he did, too. All the things that've happened over the last year, he's had a lot of change, and he's never really been the kind who likes that. Wish I could tell ya what was going on with him...but we haven't really had a chance to talk lately, and my English isn't perfect(but then, neither is his Dog), and I'm not even sure he knows how he's doing, it's a little hard to say what's happening in life when you aren't even sure of it yourself. Kind of a happy/sad/nervous/excited swirl, I'd guess. Reflecting on all the moments that've gotten him here, both pleasant and unhappy, looking forward to the new chapter of life he's headed into, but not sure what to expect. "Never be afraid to put your unknown future in the hands of a known God", Corrie ten Boom said once, I'll need to remind him of that.    

   Courtney's been commuting to Weed Valley a couple times a day to help run Buttermilk's Dairy, and learning how to play the mandolin Wes got himself for graduation. I'm not much for instrumental music, but it seems like they're both getting the hang of it pretty well. She's counting the seconds until she leaves for church camp next week, hopefully she and her pals will have a great time.  

    Caleb and Trevor have been building forts and trapping rabbits and fishing at the lake whenever Mom lets them, Trevor sprained his ankle last week.    

   Amy's eyesight is improving, she got a new prescription for her glasses the other day. And she's just made leaps and bounds in talking - Whole sentences, and she knows her colors, and can even count some!! (Math never was my strong point.)  

   Dad's shoulder is recovering slowly from his surgery last month, but it's coming along.    There just isn't much to read about in the newspapers during the summertime...nothing ever happens.    

   Copper Caynine isn't much liking this heat, she's always complaining about it. I agree, it's a pain, but there isn't really anything you can do about the weather, except sit quiet and wait for it to leave, so it'd be kinda nice if she could lower her volume.  

    Buttercup and Inigo Kidd are both doing well, playing outside often and taking naps under a shade tree.    What grass is still alive is tall and flourishing, because all the lawn mowers are broken. The weed-eaters are either sidelined or out of string.  

    Mom's been planting a fall garden, we aren't allowed in the courtyard any more. And my favorite comfy chairs are in there...   

   The Olympics start Friday, July 27, at 6:30 p.m. on NBC, you can bet I'll be watching them all I can. It's too bad they're on only once every four years...they're so interesting!    

   The youth group is doing a study on Wednesday nights at Dex Cox's old place, they're discussing a set of sermons by some fella named David Platt, on "Angels, Demons and Spiritual Warfare". Interesting-seeming subject, but I'd prefer to discuss Shakespeare instead. He was one of those speakers at the Louisville Bible conference in April.  

   Wes and some friends went to see that new Spider-Man movie a couple weeks ago. I'd tell you how that went, but he already wrote about it on his blog, so you'll have to go there if you wanted to know.   

   That's about it for news here lately, except that the ticks are awful again this year, so in case I don't see ya, good morning, good afternoon, and good night! 

Sam Raimi's Spider-Man Trilogy

      "Who am I? You sure you want to know? My story is not for the faint of heart..."

       That's how the greatest trilogy in cinematic history(arguably, right up there with both sets of Star Wars movies, Back to the Future, and Toy Story, some people would most likely include Indiana Jones and Rocky to that list) opens.

       This story, whose narrator warns us by those intriguing words, begins about forty years before, with a guy named Stan. He was one of those group of people who are born storytellers, and who work at it, too, so that they can improve their stories and engage and please their audience. The audience he worked to wanted tales about heroes(but who doesn't?). In particular, heroes that were teenagers. Stan was a writer in the comic-book industry, and the people buying Marvel comics had spoken. So he got together with a guy he worked with named Steve, and they bounced idea off one another until somebody thought of creating a superhero with the powers of a fly - To crawl up walls, mainly, and be able to move really fast. "A fly? That's...um..." "Kinda dumb?" "Yeeahh." "I guess you've sort of got a point...isn't really that sexy. But I like the idea." "Yeah, just NOT a fly. What about...." (Long list of insects and other creepy crawly things) "...a spider!" "Yeah!!! But what about the alter ego?" "Hmm..." 
       The character Stan Lee and Steve Ditka came up with that day was revolutionary to the world of superheroes, and the entertainment world at large: The tale of Peter Parker, a bright but nerdy high school student, skilled at science and physics, who was bitten by a radioactive spider, which injected some of its' DNA into his bloodstream, giving the teen arachnid-like abilities. That wasn't really the incredible part, though. What was, was the fact of who Peter was: A perfectly ordinary person, complete with anxieties and doubts, troubles with zits, girls, his aunt, and paying next month's rent. 

       He started out in entertainment, wrestling and TV stunts and such, until his Uncle Ben was killed by a car thief, which began his trajectory into the world's most well-loved superhero. Motivated by vengeance at first, to track down his uncle's killer, but gradually he came to understand something that he'd been told just before the accident, that "With great power, comes great responsibility. I want you to remember that, Pete."

       Over time, throughout the comics(which I have never read), he went to college, got a work-study job in the science department at Empire State University and as a freelancing photographer for the The Daily Bugle newspaper, dealing with his cranky boss J. Jonah Jameson, always ranting against Spidey's protection; dating, first Gwen Stacy and then Mary Jane Watson, dealing with the aftermath of Gwen's death and his best friend Harry Osborn's drug addiction. And then the arsenal of supervillians that have come along over the years: the Green Goblin, the Lizard, Doc Ock, Sandman, Venom, the Rhino, Carnage, the Hobgoblin, many, many others...

       Over nearly fifty years, with who knows how many people writing the stories, a lot of details don't really match up, or sometimes outright contradict each other, so it's hard to tell exactly how the story goes. But for most of us teens and twentysomethings now, we were lured into Spidey's web by the 2002 movie directed by Sam Raimi and starring Tobey Maguire and Kirsten Dunst. I was twelve or thirteen when I saw it for the first time, and I loved it. Such a well-told story, Pete is so relateable(is that a word?), you know exactly what he's going through. That scene where Pete's taking the trash out, and he has that talk with MJ, we know exactly what that being afraid, yet hopeful for the future, is like. I mean, I ever put some of that scene into my graduation speech, that's how good it is. The nerdiness, it's perfect, like when he's trying to figure out how to use his webs, that quick little montage of fourteen different ways that don't shoot, with the sound effects and grunts and everything. One of the things that really made an impact om me was the scene in front of the library, when Uncle Ben delivers the "With great power comes great responsibility" line, before that, he says: "These are the years a man changes into what he's going to become for the rest of his life. Be careful who you change into." As a young teen, that really stuck, I've tried to heed that advice. The last scene, in the cemetery, was not written well, at all, way too over-dramatic and sappy. But we understand what's going on in his mind, the pain he's facing: "No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, the ones I love will always be the ones who pay." That's why he tells MJ that "I will always be there for you, I will always keep you safe. I will always...be your friend." "Only a friend?" "...That's all I have to give." It tears us apart inside, to hear that she loves him, to know that he's loved her since he was six, but yet he can't say it, can't act on it. But, really...isn't that part of really being a hero, really loving someone? To keep them safe and happy, out of danger and trouble as much as possible, even if it rips us apart to do that? Because it's better for them? And, in an odd way, even Norman Osborn knows that, telling Peter not to tell Harry about his past as the Green Goblin. 

       And then it continues two years later, both in the story's timeline and literally, with the second movie of the trilogy. Pete's just been fired from his pizza delivery job, JJJ is bashing Spidey every chance he gets, Aunt May is being evicted from her house, Harry won't hardly talk to him, and MJ just started tentatively making something out on Broadway and as a model...which means her face plastered up on billboards everywhere throughout the city. College isn't going all that well, not having that much time to study, things aren't looking very good. And Mary Jane has just gotten engaged to this hotshot astronaut, who just happens to be Jameson's son. That night Peter has dinner with Otto Octavious and his wife Rosie, they talk about poetry, how they met, about science, and the nuclear fission device the doctor is working on. Rosie asks if Pete has a girlfriend, he says "Um...I don't really know..." Doc kinda laughs at him, but isn't that how a lot of us guys feel sometimes? Then, of course, the reactor explodes, tearing everything apart, shredding Rosie by flying glass shards, and melting the inhibitor chip, which lets the tentacles take over and drives Doc Ock insane. Pete has a lot on his plate, he loses sight of what he's supposed to do, he even loses his powers there for a while. Aunt May reminds him, while packing for her move, that there's a little bit of a hero inside all of us, that sometimes we just need an extra-special hero to give us that spark of courage to go about our everyday lives. In the climatic fight at the end of the film, the reactor is proving too powerful, it has to be destroyed. Peter reminds Doctor Octavious that intelligence is a privilege, and should be treated as such, to use for good, and not for evil. "And...sometimes...we have to be steady, let our dreams go, in order to do what's right, even if it means giving up what we want most." Don't we need to be reminded of that? He realizes what the tentacles have done to him, blinded him into thinking he was serving the greater good, when really it was too powerful a creation, too destructive, too harmful. So he drowns the reactor, and in so doing also drowns himself. Kind of a parallel to what Christ did on the cross, not a perfect one, but the similarities can easily be drawn.

       Two years after that in the storyline, and three years in reality, Peter and MJ are finally together, Harry's figured out that Pete is Spider-Man, and everyone loves him while MJ's career is falling apart. Vanity can get to you, and for him, it does. He becomes a jerk, basically, angering Mary Jane by never taking the time to actually listen to what her problems are, always leaping ahead to Spider-Man this, Spidey that. And the fact that Harry discovered his father's stash of Oscorp goodies at the end of the second movie just sets up perfectly. So now not only does Harry have the malice behind him to crush that little bug, he now has the tools, too. During a long, bewildering fight as Pete's on his way to ask Mary Jane to marry him, Harry is tripped and knocked unconscious, getting amnesia, and the last thing he remember's the three of them are all still starting college, and none of these webs and criss-crosses that happened, they're all still friends. That throws a new wrinkle in things, proves to be a pretty big storyline. And this escaped convict, Flint Marko, he gets loose, to see his daughter Penny, stricken with cancer. He didn't have the money or anything to pay for treatment, so he tried to raise some cash the fastest way he could find: By holding up some people. That didn't go as planned, and he inadvertly shot Uncle Ben. He was later arrested, and in his escape from the police, crossed into a particle reactor test, becoming...well, sand. With rage at that, at his inablilty to help his daughter, his anger at Spider-Man, and generally the world, he goes on a rampage. Also, there's this otherworldly symbiote that attaches itself to Peter, bringing up his levels of aggression and confidence, he realizes eventually it's turned him into something he's not, in a fierce struggle on a Catholic church roof, he separates himself from the symbiote, which then bonds with a recently fired Daily Bugle photographer named Eddie Brock, who hates Parker for exposing the fact that he cheated, he becomes Venom. (Wow...these plots are crazy to explain. Of course, I've never been good at summarizing books or movies, I study them too in-depth, but still...Trust me: they make sense when you watch them!! Wonderful movies.) Anyway, before proposing to MJ, he talks with Aunt May about it. She gives him some good advice about how to treat your wife, how that a man has to put the woman he wants before himself, and his wants and desires. That you should take your time, plan carefully, not rush into something as big as that. 
       Well, over time, Harry regains his memory, remembers his vow to kill Spider-Man, there's a mini-fight there. Peter pleads with his best friend, that Mary Jane's in trouble. They need to put aside their differences and work together to save her. During that ultimate fight, Venom and Sandman have teamed up to eradicate Spider-Man, Harry(as the New Goblin) comes to his aid just when he needs it most. During the course of the battle, Eddie is separated from the symbiote, Pete's telling him that "I know what it does to you, what it feels like. It isn't safe, it's dangerous." One of Harry's pumpkin bombs blows it up, but not before Eddie leaps desperately back towards the symbiote, not willing to give up his newfound power, and thus dying in the process. Harry was mortally wounded, but working together they manage to save Mary Jane and thwart Venom, Eddie dies in the explosion, daylight comes, and Harry lies there dying, with MJ and Pete beside him, with nothing they can do. 
       Flint Marko states quietly, gesturing at the destruction and debris, "I didn't want this, but I had no choice." "We always have a choice. You had a choice when you killed my uncle." "My daughter was dying, I needed money. I was scared...I told your uncle all I wanted was the car, he said to me..'Why don't you just put the gun down, and go home?' I know now he was just tryin' to help me. Then I saw my partner running over with the cash...and the gun was in my hand. Did a terrible thing to you, I spent a lot of nights wishin' I could take it back. Not asking you to forgive me, I just want you to understand." Peter swallows. "I've done terrible things, too." "I didn't choose to be this...the only thing left to me now, is my daughter." Peter stares at him, dealing with some long-held emotion. "I forgive you." Marko nods, then floats away, leaving Peter to go back to Harry.
       "I'm sorry I hurt you, said those things..." "None of that matters, Peter. I'm your friend." He nods, "Best friend." he whispers. And then...he's gone, leaving a gaping hole in both his best friend's lives. As the credits start to come in, this is Peter's final monolgue: "Whatever comes out way, whatever battle we have raging inside us, we'll always have a choice. My friend Harry taught me that. He chose to be the best in himself...it's our choices that make us who we are, and we can always choose to do what's right."

       I've made the movies sound like they're just one big love story, which in a way, they are...but they're so much more than that. All the action(they are action movies, after all), can't really be described all that well. And they definitely have elements of comedy, too; all the pathos of how perfectly awful things in Peter's life are going, the witticisms and barbs thrown back and forth during battles, Mr Dinkovich the landlord and his daughter Ursula. They're all well-edited, the way it cuts quickly, leaves you spinning for a second with an unexpected cut, implying action so well. And they way all three movies tie together so well, the little things you don't notice until you've come to know the characters, what they're going through, what each inside joke or uncomfortable pause means. 
       And they're so...inspiring, somehow. They make you think, they make you laugh, they make you cry, they're good pictures, to paraphrase Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer Edsel Adams. You want to strive to be more heroic, to fulfill your little mundane everyday tasks well, even the ones that people don't really notice if they're done or not. That's what Spidey's whole job is, most of the time; and compared to him, what do we have to complain about? Sure, our problems are numerous and ever-expanding, it seems like, but we don't have supervillians on our tail, besides all that. We might be having trouble talking with a friend or something, but he's not scheming to kill us. Our personal problems and relationships might be chaotic, but not anywhere near as messy as what Pete, MJ and Harry are going through. When life gets tough and God throws a new disaster into our lives to grow us, well, hang on and fight through it, we'll get whatever help we need at exactly the right time(By the way, witty comebacks towards the direction of the problem don't hurt, either).  The advice given and wisdom shared that we get to understand, is invaluable. These are just some of the reasons why I love these movies, and why the web-slinger is my favorite superhero. 

       (Postscript, occurring five years after the conclusion of the trilogy.) 
       They had planed on making a third sequel, a fourth movie, to come out in 2010, but somewhere along in production, that plan fell through. With Sony having to use the character within a certain amount of time to avoid having the rights return to Marvel penalty-free, they had to whip something up in a hurry. Meanwhile, all of us fans were curious to see when the wall-crawler would return, and what story would be spun around him this time. We weren't exactly expecting the one we got. It was completely recast, with a new director and everything, a total reboot of the franchise, which took two years more than anticipated to hit the big screen.
       Anyway, with heading off to college soon and everything, I needed a change to get myself ready for whatever is thrown my way here in a couple weeks. I was kind of stuck in a rut, doing the same type of things day after day, etc. So I think about what might be labeled an adventure, what was totally out of the ordinary, but still realistically feasible. What I came up with was going to a movie, specifically, The Amazing Spider-Man. Adventure picked. Now who to go with...so I asked around, Sam loved the idea, and it's been forever since we hung out, Josh wanted to come, too. From there it was more like a construction project to plan, once we got when to see it down, then there was the "I wanna come! No, wait, I can't...No, I'll be there!"s to deal with, and then the where-are-we-going-to-see-this problem, which was quite interesting to solve. And, of course, the transportation tangle of getting from the church to the theater and back home. But, anyway, Sam and I got all those details figured out, and we set out after church last Sunday to go see the movie. There was me, Sam, and Marie(the Seniors); Josh and Suzanna; my sister Courtney; writing buddy Cassie; Bennett, the oh-so-fun-to-tease; Katie and Lilya. Lunch had its...interesting moments, which won't be revealed on here, but caused frowns, groans, and hysterical laughter(but then, it's most of our youth group, that 's kinda to be expected, haha). We made a wrong turn coming out of the mall, ended up walking around the whole entire place like it's Jericho or something, til we finally get on the right track, and then it's a race against time to get to the theater before the show starts. 
       We make it - barely - endure the waiting-for-those-ordering-popcorn, find our seats as the previews are starting. They went for twenty solid minutes!!! Once the movie got rolling...you could feel the difference right from the title opening. It had a slow, meandering pace, interspersed with authentic-looking violence, and the camera didn't cut away, it just showed everything. The actors playing Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy(some British dude named Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone) seemed way too old for their roles, there was a lot of mumbling. It took some getting used to, Aunt May and Uncle Ben were much younger, he was killed in a different way, and the spider bite was much different.  We knew that coming in, but it's hard to tie together with all the memories of the trilogy, to reconcile those contradictions and stuff that I mentioned earlier. Peter rides a skateboard? And his hair was too cool-looking to be a nerd, that was distracting. The writing felt like it was patched together in a hurry(it no doubt was), but then do you have to over-act it, too? The only character I believed was Curt Connors, everyone else seemed too forced. 
       The plot: Peter's parents disappear when he's four years old, leaving him with Uncle Ben and Aunt May, who raise him. He grow into kind of a jerk, really; when the basement floods, he finds a briefcase that had belonged to his dad while saving stuff from water damage, and looks into it. He finds...well, not much. A few scraps of things his father used in his work, a lead in the form of an old newspaper clipping. So begins Peter's quest to find out what exactly happened to his parents. He accidentally gets bitten by a radioactive spider and unintentionally turns Dr Connors into the Lizard, and only reluctantly goes into the superoing business, after numerous vigilante attacks on muggers who might have killed his uncle. It's a more subtle film, I guess you could say, than the others, supposedly more in line with the way he got started in the comics. Jonah's always railing against this masked menace called Spider-Man, well, maybe he has a point. There was still some entertaining moments, Stan Lee's cameo was the best yet, the way he yanks the keys off his laptop while researching spider bites, that sort of thing, which was interesting. And a few good one-liners, like when he comes to Gwen's apartment for dinner one night, knocking on her window. "How'd you get up here?" "Fire escape. You have a very intimidating doorman." The little things like bringing Aunt May a carton of eggs after a long night out, or wolfing down her meatloaf. "Something's wrong, Ben..." "I'll say....nobody likes your meatloaf." "....They don't? Why didn't you tell me that thirty-seven years ago? Do you know how many times I've made that?" The scene where Peter asks Gwen out was good, seemed like it could happen easily. (There were about twenty people in the theater, counting our ten. I probably heard fifteen laugh out loud there.) It was interesting. Didn't have much of a plot, and what there was was tangled up in a cobweb, but since this is the beginning of a new trilogy, holds some promise. Compared to the trilogy, it was far inferior, compared to the story of the first movie, it's lacking, but I think as a movie, it might be about equal. I'll definitely need to see it again. It's another side of Spidey, one that's darker, but that needs to be examined, in order to better understand who he is.