#but being in a public environment nevermind SCHOOL is like that but So Much Worse

[junkie-virus]

woagh weird ass tree

[canvaswolfdoll]

CanvasWatches: Stranger Things

I am super late to the Stranger Things… thing, and it took the premier of the second season and an unexpected stretch of free time to finally sit down and watch it. Even then, it took me a couple extra weeks.

I’ve been a critic of Netflix’s binge-focused release format. Not because I don’t enjoy a good binge watch from time to time, but because I like the freedom to choose when I take a break. When bingeing a show formatted for segmented release, each episode tends to be written in such a way as to let the audience comfortably wait a week, either because the narrative is one and done, or by carefully pacing the series to allow it to hold up with a time gap between episodes.

Also, everyone was raving about Stranger Things, which induced some hype poisoning, and I was born after the 80s died, so I don’t really have any nostalgia for the era. Besides Back to the Future and Ghostbusters, I never really watched much 80s media.

Plus everyone was so excited by how the show featured D&D. There are very few D&D-centered episodes that I like, as such depictions always fall short of my expectations.[1]

Besides one groan worthy aspect in season 2[2], I was actually pleasantly surprised by how the show handled the subject: by making it a casual part of the kids’ lives. Season One opens with a game, and closes with a game, and it’s sometimes used to color dialogue, but it’s never in focus, which is good. Hobbies should color characters, not define them.

The actual plot of season 1 was well written, and uses the only plausible excuse for characters not telling each other vital information: by segmenting the plot between three groups that have no reason to interact until the plot threads run together.

Sure, Chief Hopper maybe should’ve been keeping Joyce appraised a little more often, but he was also busy, so I can give that a pass.

Oddly, beside Eleven, I didn’t actually care about the Kids’ plotline. They’re well cast, don’t get me wrong, but the argument over what to do once El enters their lives just runs in circles until the other two plotlines convene, and I just wasn’t particularly invested in them.

And the teens are likewise dull until Nancy and Jon start proactively hunting the eldritch horror. And even then, it’s plagued by gross High School Romance drama. I don’t care who Nancy starts dating, I want to know what’s up with the supernatural weirdness and the effects that has on people.

Which, of course, leaves Hopper and Joyce to be the ones to pull me through. Also Eleven’s flashbacks. You know, the parts showcasing and developing the things that are strange.

The first season is, mercifully, a rare example of a well-executed secrets plot. The mystery’s set off by Will’s disappearance, a strong inciting incident that gets three different casts going down three different plotlines until convening at the end.

Because of the nature of who the characters are and the methods they use to accomplish their goals, they’re kept separate not because of tedious secrets kept to ‘protect’ others, but because they just don’t have any reason to interact.

Hopper and Joyce’s efforts to find Will lead to the Government Conspiracy, and they are unaware of Eleven’s existence for most of it. Eleven is (rightfully) afraid of the Energy Research place, and doesn’t trust adults because of it, making it reasonable the kids wouldn’t know. The teens (once they get past the dumb romance drama) are trying to find Barb, who no one else cares is missing.

The moment the three groups learn they’ve been pursuing different sides of the same puzzle, they work together and share information without fuss. Then they split again when their goals lead in different directions. Hopper and Joyce don’t want to put the kids in danger when they go to confront the big bad; the kids continue to protect Eleven; the teens seek revenge on the demogorgon.

And all three contribute to the resolution.

Then the second season opens, and Hopper, who I loved for being a reasonable protagonist, betrays my trust. Eleven’s hurting being separated from her friends and her friends are hurting not knowing her fate.

A problem easily solved if Hopper just told Mike “Hey, Eleven’s with me, she’s safe, but I’m keeping her out of the public eye. I’ll try to arrange some visits, but they can’t be frequent. Here’s a morse code info card, and a frequency. Don’t keep each other up too late, and don’t tell anyone who hasn’t already met her.”

There, Eleven’s got some social stimulation, no one’s pining, and everyone knows where things stand.

They all worked together for season one’s finale. Hopper’s actions are inexcusable.

Hopper went from my favorite character to one of the most annoying.

As a whole, the first season felt much more tightly written than the second. The first balanced the eldritch horror and psychic powers sufficiently well.

The second advanced and built upon the Upside Down in exciting ways, including a giant central intelligence to the whole place. Confirmation that, instead of just a decaying world to mirror our own, the entire place is a single malevolent entity, represented by an enormous, alien being. I love what is being done with the Upside Down.

Then there’s ‘The Lost Sister’. Which is… the episode literally doesn’t fit. Eleven leaves, seeking her mother. Okay, good development. This leads to some new exposition of what Eleven’s young life was like. That’s good! Slowly exploring that works for the show! Introducing another test subject in the form of ‘8’. Logical, since Eleven is, well, number Eleven.

Elle/Jane goes looking for this mystery girl. That’s where the show goes off the rails. Not that Eleven searching for others like her isn’t a fair plotline, but it literally takes the show away from Hawkins and all the endearing characters we’ve met.

It’s a filler episode, and it turns Eleven from ‘Oddity with connection to the Eldritch’ to ‘Blossoming superhero’ which… Stranger Things wasn’t a superhero show. It’s a mystery and thriller. It’s an episode so divorced from the other eight episodes, you can literally skip it and lose nothing.

Kali’s gang has no redeeming features. They’re criminals and murderers, plain and simple. Elle finds them, establishes a connection with Kali, and then it’s just a ‘Good Character is lead down a dark path before leaving’ plot. It adds nothing.

And Kali has a different power set from Eleven, deepening the Superhero aspect where each mutant has a different power. If, instead, Kali had the same (but weaker) Psionic powers I might take her inclusion better.

But, worse still, none of it has anything to do with the rest of the plot, even when it would’ve been easy to integrate, though that probably would require more time.

Kali’s gang, as mentioned, are bad people. Send them rocking into Hawkins in search of a place to lie low while the heat dies off, maybe induct Billy Hargrove… maybe they could find a space.

Actually, no, nevermind. They’d still be a distraction. It’s a series that works on the strength of it’s dynamic characters. Suddenly hamfisting in Kali and company would strain that.

In fact, I’m not sure searching out numbers 1 through 10 (maybe 12) will ever work, because that would imply a road trip season, which would suck because we’d see less Hawkins in favor of Scooby-Doo’ing up the series.

So keep the fates of the previous ten test subjects a mystery. They were experiments that failed. And considering how much hullabaloo Eleven’s escape caused in the first season, Eight getting away without any remark until now is ridiculous.

It… just doesn’t work. It’s too Kyle XY.

So, let’s take some metaphorical scissors, snip after episode 206, and before 208, remove the middle episode, and drop it out a window. It’s gone, hopefully never to return to hurt us.

Keeping Eleven separated from the rest of the cast for most of the season is the greatest sin of the second season.

Having strong characterization can only go so far if you limit who characters interact with. Segmenting the cast by age groups in the first season was fine as we were meeting the characters, so we need to learn about them in their preferred environment and when normality is interrupted. They come together at the end and cooperate to save the day, an experience shared by all. Mike and Nancy even have a heart-to-heart about how they won’t keep secrets from another. Real touching stuff.

For the second season, besides needing to flesh out the now present Will, we know the cast. So the fun should come from now intermingling the cast. Have Nancy consult Mike about getting hashtag Justice for Barb; Jonathan and Steve becoming romantic mentors to Lucas and Dustin;[3] Hopper becoming an unwilling paternal figure to the party; and show Eleven adjusting to the Real World.

Instead, Eleven only interacts with Hopper all season, and, yes, Daddy Hopper is adorable, though he should maybe try and remember he’s caring for a socially stunted psychic before he starts yelling. Maybe have him start yelling, Eleven gets mad, one bookshelf falls over, both stop to look at this reaction, then Hopper runs both of them through the deep breathing exercise from the end of Season One before talking it through.

Eleven and Hopper’s arc should’ve been about learning to trust in a scary world, instead of… whatever they were going for. And giving her limited interaction with her friends would’ve allowed for this growth, as the party would first have to coax her out of the cottage, and then she’d have firmer ground to question Hopper keeping her cooped up.

And I so love fish out of water stories. Learning what money is and asking Hopper for an allowance? Stumbling about and learning not to assault people who offend her?[4] Being the first kid to form a bond with Bob? All would’ve been nice to watch happen.

Also, Bob was… okay. He didn’t leave much of an impression on me for a generically nice man. They should’ve worked the ‘Bob founded the AV Club’ thing in way sooner, so it wasn’t an awkward line shoved in after his death to retcon in stakes for The Party. It was awkward.

Also, no one else wearing costumes is the least realistic thing. After my 13 years of public school, I know that would never happen.

It’s not all bad, let’s be clear. Upping the threat of the Upside Down and giving it a central intelligence was good, as was expanding on the Demogorgon lifecycle to bring in a nice Alien touch. The tunnels made the threat feel more immediate, and explained the pockets of Upside Down that broke out in season 1. Max is… promising. Hopefully she’ll get more of a concrete arc going forward, but she’s got a good start.

So, in summation, I liked Season 1, and 2 was as enjoyable with a few missteps that hopefully won’t be forced back in. My one fear is that they’re going to put the Mind Flayer on the back burner and spend the next season on the less interesting ‘Other Test Subjects’ plotline. We’re heading towards the end of the Superhero Media boom, while I can’t think of many properties that focus on themes of eldritch and inhuman intelligences that the Mind Flayer and Upside Down presents.

Still, when Stranger Things 3 arrives, I’ll watch as eagerly as anyone else.

If you enjoyed this review, may I suggest to trawl through my archive to see if you enjoy my other works? (The CanvasReviews tag should give you a good start). Also, feel free to send me messages and question. I also have a Patreon, if that’s your sort of thing.

Kataal kataal.

[1] Yes, even Community’s much beloved take. There was no passion in it and it was weighed down by the ‘One Character for all games’ and ‘Dice results dictate everything’ concepts that makes zero sense. [2] How can you forget about Rogues, you idiots? It’s literally the best class! [3] I will go on record: if you sit me through a tired love triangle, but follow it up by having two corners advise on a new love triangle, I will be on board for that absurdity. [4] For context, my ideal ending of the the show is the town just transitions into casually accepting that, sometimes, eldritch horrors pop up, and just deal with them casually.

[whatsgodgottodowithreligion-blog]

Behind Blue Eyes

As anyone who has read my book, What’s GOD Got To Do With It? knows, I am an abuse survivor. While I don’t go into specific detail about that inside those pages, I have dealt with and struggled with the ramifications of this abuse (physical, verbal, sexual) for the majority of my adult life. In fact, one of the more painful sidebars that came with my decision to not self-medicate with alcohol in 1995 was that I had to address the post-traumatic stress this abuse was plaguing me with, even after years of therapy which allowed me to see clearly the emotional and psychological impact this had on me as an adult.

For years, I wondered (or rather, looked for a logical explanation) as to why, out of seven offspring, my Dad was particularly mean and cruel to me - why he seemed to single me out for a lot of his rage and anger from as early on as I can remember. One day, during my teens, a seemingly innocent trip down memory lane served to provide that missing piece of the puzzle. My brothers, sister and me were looking at photos in the family album, taken during our younger years. I remember looking at a picture of me taken in kindergarten, all happy and smiles (thanks to the photographer telling me corny jokes while he shot the images) in my houndstooth blazer, white dress shirt and tie, when my sister remarked “You think that’s a cute picture of you - you should’ve seen yourself as a baby.......you had the cutest blue eyes!”

Now I know, there’s a common belief that all kids are born with blue eyes (and most eye color changes in the weeks after birth), but apparently, that blue eye gene did not show up in the six siblings which preceded me, nor in my kid brother who was born a year later. What’s more, it was several months before my eye color did indeed change from blue to brown. This would seem like a minuscule and trivial detail, except for one thing: my Dad, who was a simple Southern man with less than a fifth grade education (he had to drop out of school to tend chores on his grandmother’s farm after his birth mother abandoned him) was not educated enough to understand the dynamics of recessive gene traits. Put another way - if you were a country bumpkin, and five of your kids had your eye color, but the sixth child came out with blue eyes, what would you likely conclude?

Unlike anyone else in my family, I realized the conclusion that my Dad had to have drawn was completely logical, in absence of any evidence refuting it - that is, that I was not his biological son. Worse, it meant that he was staring into the eyes of his wife’s adulterous behavior. Nevermind the fact that my Dad wasn’t exactly faithful to my mom, he had to be worried that if anyone noticed the discrepancy in eye color, they too, would draw the conclusion that ‘his woman’ was a two-timing whore. To this day, I’m not entirely sure he ever believed that I was ‘of his loins’, a fact reinforced by the multiple times he said “You’re no son of mine!” to me, and only to me, even as a brown-eyed teenager and adult.

This meant that even within the family dynamic I was born into, I was left with the feeling that I was different - that I was not like my other siblings. Indeed, not only that, but that I did not belong, that I was an intruder, or in the eyes of my father, I represented a significant threat to his manhood, and by extension, his self concept. So before I ever learned that my skin color would be looked upon with the same level of distrust and suspicion, I was subjected to unjust ostracizing in an environment where I should have felt loved, appreciated and protected.

In elementary school,  I always looked forward to “career day” - when adults of various professions would come in and talk to us about the jobs they did, why they did them, and what they enjoyed about them. This included, without fail, a visit from both a fireman and a policeman. At least in my day, kids (especially boys) looked up to both cops and firemen as heroes - brave guys who risked their lives to save others, keep the communities they served safe and protected, and got to wear cool uniforms that elicited both admiration, awe and respect. The message (or should I say slogan) that we were told repeatedly was “Remember kids - the policeman is your friend. So always be polite and respectful, and always obey what an officer tells you to do.”

And so, while I had my sights set on riding a red fire engine and having a cute Dalmatian by my side, I did believe what I was told, and learned to respect the police, and had the mindset that the policeman was indeed a friend I could trust and turn to. But something happened along the way between the ages of sixteen and onward that sent a very distinct counter-message that while I may believe the policeman was my friend, he had an entirely different view of me.

The first significant episode happened to me when I was in my twenties: I was hanging out in the lobby of a movie theatre, talking with my friend Howard, when suddenly, three cops burst in with steadfast intent. While standing there with my friend, the three cops suddenly advanced on us (or more accurately, advanced upon me), and proceeded to throw me up against the wall dividing the lobby seats, with two of the officers frisking me while the other stood by. No advance warnings were given, nor was there any explanation as to why I was being ‘singled out’ over my white companion beside me. I calmly and respectfully asked (repeatedly) what I did wrong, and why I was being searched - the one answer I got was “Be quiet” as they continued patting me down, in search of what I had no idea. A few minutes into this episode, an elderly woman entered the theatre - she noticed what was going on, and noticed me being frisked. It was only until the woman remarked to the cops “No.....that’s not him” that the cops stopped their frisking/detaining of me and let me go. They then proceeded to exit the theatre with the old lady in tow.

Without explaining why they did what they did. Without so much as an apology for frisking “the wrong man.” I was humiliated in front of my friend, and had my dignity stripped from me, but I did not deserve any apology in their eyes. When I have recalled this episode in the past, many folks responded (or should I say rationalized) this intrusion with, “Well, they were just doing their job.” An unidentified black man likely snatched an old white lady’s purse, so the police went into the first place they surmised he would likely hide, and decided to frisk whatever black males they encountered inside the premises. Seems perfectly logical to me. What doesn’t seem logical is the fact that we, as a society act as if the police can never be wrong, never make a mistake, or ever have anything to be apologetic for. That demoralizing episode became a rude awakening to me that 1. The policeman is not my friend - he considers me an adversary/suspect guilty until proven innocent, and 2. I can be as respectful and compliant as I was taught to be in school, but I would still be treated as a second-class citizen, and should expect as much whenever I am in the presence of law enforcement.

There’s been a lot of discussion lately about racial bias, police brutality and excessive, deadly force. Those who protest the disparity in how blacks and whites are treated by police are all too often met with derision and criticism. When the Black Lives Matter movement began as a response to unexplained instances of why unarmed black men were being shot to death by policemen who suffered no outside investigations or repercussions, the phrase “Black Lives Matter” was rebutted with “Blue Lives Matter” - as if the two were somehow in conflict with each other. Whatever I may think about the radicalization within BLM, or how their message has become distorted by the extremist voices coming from inside that protest group, the fact is it’s hard to believe that black lives really do matter in the eyes of many, though not all in law enforcement.

But even more disturbing than that is the emergence of black conservative voices who seek to justify racial profiling and excessive force as being necessary elements in the ever-increasing dangerousness of being a cop these days. To rationalize the death of an unarmed black man being shot in the back and killed by a policeman with “Well, he shouldn’t have been running away” or “If he wasn’t guilty of something, he would have listened and obeyed orders” is sad and distorted enough coming from the mouths of clueless Caucasians, but to have black conservatives echo the same sentiments is chilling. When San Francisco quarterback Colin Kaepernick decided to “take a knee” during the National Anthem as a sign of silent protest, the blowback was disproportionately hostile: hearing people like CRTV’s Dineen Borelli and The Blacksphere’s Kevin Jackson (above) attack Kaepernick for his righteous anger over racism and police brutality I find particularly disturbing. Jackson has gone one step further: producing a documentary entitled Bleeding Blue: Behind The Badge, Under The Gun, whose objective is to shed light on both how dangerous it is for cops out there on the street, and how the “leftist media” continues to fan the flames of racial discord, instead of holding the black community accountable for the lawless criminals that are being coddled as “victims of their environment.”

No one would argue that the police have it tough out there, and that being a policeman is one of the most dangerous occupations one could have, but it was tough being a cop when I was in grade school - so what exactly has changed? More criminals with guns? Stronger narcotics on the streets and in the veins of those committing crimes? Public apathy? I’m not sure that things have changed in terms of danger to policemen as much as our 24/7, as-it-happens news cycle has been feeding us a daily diet of crime and punishment. When the average white person watches the news, and sees the majority of crimes being committed by blacks - specifically black men, what underlying message is implanted inside their minds? If racial bias exists within society (which it does), it must certainly manifest itself among police officers - but officers are (or should be) trained to discern what is reasonable suspicion and what is a knee-jerk reaction to the presence of black men on their beat.

And when excessive force is used, there needs to be accountability, period. Every time a cop is caught on camera using excessive, unnecessary force (which results in the death of a black man), and an internal review exonerates the policeman of any wrongdoing, you are reinforcing the idea that black lives do not matter. Black conservatives want to cloak themselves in the misguided belief that only “thugs” have deadly encounters with police, and so whatever fate befalls them is justified and of their own making. This conveniently ignores the fact that there are countless incidents where armed white men brandishing deadly weapons manage to be peacefully apprehended by law enforcement, and do not result in the use of excessive force or the death of a suspect. So why is it okay for an unarmed man to be shot in the back and killed? How can one watch videos on the news or Youtube of unarmed black men being shot like wild dogs and not feel a tinge of horror? Why do we hold the police to a higher standard, even when that trust is betrayed by their actions? Why no outrage over the increased militarization (and combat mindset) of law enforcement, which perpetuates an “us versus them” mentality, presuming all suspects guilty without benefit of due process?

Finally, how did we get to a place where respect for law enforcement means looking the other way when rouge cops act more like vigilantes than peace officers? Frank Serpico was more than the subject of a 1973 Sidney Lumet film starring Al Pacino: he was a living, breathing embodiment of a “good cop.’ When Serpico witnessed corruption and law breaking among his fellow officers, he did not look the other way - he spoke up. You would think all good cops would have his back and support his efforts to expose the bad apples inside the NYPD, but you’d be dead wrong. The “blue wall of silence” was erected almost immediately, and Serpico was subjected to retaliatory behavior, both from his superiors and from fellow cops on the force. During his testimony before the Mayor Lindsay-appointed Knapp Commission in 1971, Serpico said:

“The problem is that the atmosphere does not yet exist, in which an honest police officer can act... without fear of ridicule or reprisal from fellow officers. Police corruption cannot exist unless it is at least tolerated. Therefore, the most important result that can come from these hearings... is a conviction by police officers that the department will change.”

Serpico retired from the force a month after receiving The Medal Of Honor in June of 1972, and has been an outspoken advocate for police accountability to this day. Serpico’s bravery is, unfortunately, eclipsed by the fact that such courage is rarely acknowledged or validated by the world in which we live - indeed, the “blue wall of silence” continues to infect police departments across America, where good cops look the other way, when they should be speaking out. Even when a fellow officer uses excessive force; even when an officer taunts or harasses a suspect, barely containing their racially-motivated contempt. Even when an officer ramps up a situation to a deadly conclusion, that should have been de-escalated to a peaceful apprehension of the suspect. Even when a shooting is not justified, under any circumstances, given the particular circumstances of that incident.

When my Dad would beat me, he’d often yell, “You need to respect me, boy!” Sometimes, I would have the temerity to respond, “That respect has to be earned”, either internally or out loud. Blind respect to authority serves no one, especially if such authority is misapplied, abused or otherwise diminished by a lack of compassion, fairness or justice. Black conservatives and self-righteous white folk can look upon all suspects as “guilty as charged” (as the majority of comment threads on social media platforms would suggest), and psychologically distance themselves from  the criminal ‘other’, but the presumption of innocence and the tenets of due process are vital parts of a civilized society. In his book, The Divide, investigative journalist Matt Tiabbi exposed the fact that cops in New York City were arresting young black males for “jaywalking” as a way to preemptively instill them into the criminal justice system - the presumption being that sooner or later they’d end up breaking some significant law, and that this tactic was an effective way of streamlining that process. Were all males, regardless of race being arrested in this manner? No. 

Sometimes, I think about how different the world would be if I could view it from a ‘lighter perspective’ - alas, such daydreaming is futile. Like it or not, God brought me into the world as a brown-skinned black man, and this world has separate and unequal guidelines on how I should be perceived and treated. Black conservatives can delude themselves into thinking such prejudice or brutality only comes to those “who deserve it”, but from personal experience. I know better. “No one knows what it’s like to be the bad man, to be the sad man” better than I.