“Hanging your attack on a person’s slight grammatical misstep is what people do in an argument when they’re completely fucked and they know they have no argument.”
Describes every troll.
Monthly Archives: July 2012
27
Jul 12
Tiger Eyes: Through eyes older and young
Last weekend I had the chance to see the movie version of Judy Blume’s classic novel, Tiger Eyes.
When I was devouring Blume’s books as a kid, I didn’t know much about her. It was the early ’80s, before the internet and having access to all the information a person is willing, and sometimes not willing, to give. All I knew was that she had grown up in New Jersey and danced ballet like her titular character, Sally J. Freedman (there was black and white photo of 10-year old Blume in a tutu on the inside cover of the copy I borrowed from the library). I assumed she had a perfect life, imagining her as one of the easy-going, understanding moms in her novels, the mom I often wished I had.
But like Madeleine L’Engle (who I also assumed to have a life like those of her characters), Blume’s life wasn’t “cupcakes all the way” (my new favorite phrase, by the way). She and her first husband divorced, which perhaps is depicted in It’s Not the End of the World. Her second husband, a physicist, moved them to New Mexico, but the marriage lasted just a year. “It was a disaster, a total disaster,” Blume has said. I can’t help but wonder if Walter in Tiger Eyes is based on this man. He’s a scientist in New Mexico, and is very rigid. In the book he’s somewhat more sympathetic, but maybe there wasn’t room in the movie to explore him more fully. Also, Blume’s father died suddenly when she was just 21, the core theme of Tiger Eyes and also touched upon in Sally J. Freedman, in which 10-year old Sally is afraid that her father will die early, the way his brothers did.
~~~
In Tiger Eyes, fifteen-year old Davey Wexler’s father has just died suddenly. While in the book you know how from the beginning, the movie doesn’t reveal this until later, so I won’t reveal it now. Devastated by the sudden death, Davey and her family take up the offer of Bitsy, Davey’s aunt, to spend some time with her and their uncle Walter in New Mexico. There, Davey, her mother, and brother all try to deal with, or avoid, their grief.
The first time I read the book, I was 10 or 11. I hadn’t really deal with any tough issues by then. My grandmother died around that time, but I wasn’t close with her. The biggest troubles I had faced were a hardass mom and being embarrassed at school.
This may be why I never cried while reading Tiger Eyes. It made me feel sad, but it wasn’t like in Blubber when suddenly Jill, the protagonist, is the one being bullied. The movie was another story. I cried pretty much from minute one (and having no tissues, had to use the sleeves of my T-shirt to wipe my eyes and nose).
All of the actors were excellent. Willa Holland, best known perhaps for a recurring role on Gossip Girl, was terrific as Davey. She had the perfect blend of vulnerability and toughness, and her reaction to weird Danielle (of the fuzzy creature pinned to her shoulder) is priceless. Amy Jo Johnson (who I first thought was Hilary Swank) was also great as Davey’s mom, as well Lucien Dale, who played Jason, especially for one so young. Dale had me absolutely sobbing during one scene. I literally had to cover my mouth to keep quiet.
Overall, Tiger Eyes was a lovely movie. I was glad to see that it was so faithful to the book (not surprising since Blume co-wrote the screenplay with her son Lawrence, who also directed the movie). Of course some changes were made: a few parts have been cut or collapsed with other scenes, some elements have been updated (in the book Davey refuses to wear a bike helmet while in the movie it’s a matter of course that she does), and there’s one big change which I won’t give away, except to say it doesn’t really change the plot or feeling of the book, and it’s probably something that most readers wanted anyway.
If you’re a Judy Blume fan, you’ll love this movie. If you’re a fan of Judy herself, you’ll love it even more.
20
Jul 12
New blog: Punching and Kicking
Because I don’t have enough distractions from my writing, I’ve decided to start a new blog dedicated solely to krav maga. I’ve moved my krav maga-related posts over there, and also retroactively added a bunch of filler posts called “Today’s class,” which track the different combatives and defense techniques I learned that day.
I’ll probably also post about women and fighting, like 17-year old girl boxer, “T-Rex,” who is headed to the Olympics. If this interest seems sudden, it’s actually not. I’ve been a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan from way back, and have always enjoyed martial arts movies. Now I’m even more interested in the intricacies of the fighting, especially since I’ll (probably) test for my yellow belt in September.
Anyway, hope you enjoy some Punching and Kicking!
19
Jul 12
Krav maga check-in
It’s been almost six months since I started krav maga, and I think I’m ready to test for my yellow belt. Emphasis on think.
In case you didn’t know, krav maga was first developed in the 1930s by martial artist “Imi Lichtenfeld, who made use of his training as a boxer and wrestler, as a means of defending the Jewish quarter against fascist groups in Bratislavain.” After he immigrated to Israel in the late-1940s, “he began to provide lessons on combat training to what was to become the [Israeli Defense Forces, or the Israeli army], who went on to develop the system that became known as Krav Maga.”
I keep hearing that you have to go at least twice a week to get anything out of it, and that three times a week is ideal. When I started back in February, I went twice a week almost every week. I didn’t go at all in March (vacation and laziness), went only once a week in April, and only started going twice a week again in May, which became a habit in June. I went three times in one week once last month, and once this month.
What’s tough about going three times a week is that the class times aren’t ideal for me. I prefer to work out in the late morning or noontime. The weekend times, 11 AM, are excellent, but during the week is tougher. I usually work from home Tuesdays and Thursdays, and krav maga isn’t till later in the afternoon, which means sitting around unshowered for most of the day.
But now I really need to suck it up and go three times a week because like I said, I think I’d like to test for my yellow belt in September. I’m much better than I was in the beginning, but I still suck at a lot of things. Luckily they’re very transparent about what I’ll need to know for the yellow belt.
There are five sections for testing: 1) Fighting Stance and Punches; 2) Kicks; 3) Punch Defenses; 4) Choke and Headlock Defenses; and 5) Ground Positions/Movements/Kicks. Under each of those sections, there are four to seven things I need to know. Today let’s look at my Fighting Stance and Punches.
Fighting Stance and Punches
- Fighting Stance and Movement
I’m pretty good at this. At first I had no idea how to move in fighting stance. I kept stepping out with my front foot when it’s really pushing off with the rear and closing the distance.
You should avoid doing things that would make it easy for your opponent to knock you off balance, such as crossing your feet (a big no-no) and lifting your foot too high. At the same time you don’t want to drag your foot on the ground because that will slow you down.
- Straight Knuckle Punches
I’m erratic at these, sometimes good, sometimes terrible. I have the tendency to strike with my lower two knuckles on my left hand. You’re supposed to strike with the upper two as there’s less chance of injury that way. I also sometimes forget to lead with my lower half. In other words, the power starts in the sole of your foot, you turn your foot (a little or lot, depending on which foot), and pop your hip forward, following through with your arm and fist.
I also forget to follow all the way through with my right, which is my cross. The jab, your left hand, is supposed to be fast and just to stun your opponent; with the right you imagine punching a hole through the person. It’s the knockout punch.
- Palm Heel Strikes
I’m pretty good at these. It’s the same body mechanics as the straight knuckle punch. You just hit with the heel of your hand. That way you don’t have to worry about hurting your knuckles (which I have done, at least with the skin).
- Hammer Fists (Front-Side-Back)
I’m also pretty good at these. With the side and back, you have to remember to first look at your target before striking. It could be your friend or some innocent bystander. Newbies, I notice, have a tendency to just strike without looking.
- Advance and Retreat Punch Combos
I felt like a clumsy idiot when I first started learning this. It’s like when do I step forward? when do I punch? I’m better now but I think I still have a tendency to step first, then punch, instead of at the same time.
- Elbows
There are seven elbows. I’ve learned one, two, three, and six (which I think my instructors call seven, but whatevs). One is to the front, two to the side, three to the back, and six, straight down (as though your opponent is bent over and you’re aiming for their back). Four and five are backward so I guess we don’t learn that till level 2, and the last one is like an uppercut with your elbow.
Next time, my favorite: Kicks.
11
Jul 12
What I’ve Been Reading: Snarky Six Word Reviews
In case you didn’t know, I’m too lazy (and sucky) to write full book reviews so I do these quick little six word ones, inspired by SMITH magazine’s six word memoirs. I also call out the ones I consider must-reads. Without further ado, here are the books I’ve read in the last six months.
- Fathermucker, by Greg Olear. Mr. Mom meets Ulysses, but better.
- An American Demon, by Jack Grisham. Strange – repentant sociopath or good actor?
- Confederacy of the Dunces, by John Kennedy Toole. Farcical romp in the Big Easy.
- Sleepy Hollow Family Almanac, by Kris D’Agostino. Moving family drama makes Westchester interesting.
- The Lexicographer’s Dilemma, by Jack Lynch. Grammar rules are arbitrary. Descriptivism rules!
- The Cove, by Ron Rash. Heart-rending beauty in WWI Appalachia.
- Truth Like the Sun, by Jim Lynch. Mr. Seattle’s skeletons in the closet.
- Moby-Duck, by Donovan Hohn. So good, I collected the words.
- The Magicians, by Lev Grossman. Harry Potter grown-up, fucked up.
The must-reads
Greg Olear’s Fathermucker was the first book I read this year, and I was blown away. On the surface it seems like a simple plot: a day in the life of a stay-at-home dad. But like Ulysses it’s far more complex (yet not incomprehensible), as well as moving and funny. It was one of those books I felt like kissing after I was done.
Sleepy Hollow Family Almanac by Kris D’Agostino is a little like The Corrections, but with much more heart. I didn’t so much love The Corrections as admire it. But with Sleepy Hollow, it was pure love. I read the book months ago but I still have clear images of most of the characters: the hapless narrator, the autistic kid he helps at the school where he works, the ill father, the troubled younger sister.
The Lexicographer’s Dilemma is a delight for any word nerd. The book gives a comprehensive overview of the history of the English language, from a time where there was no consistency in spelling or grammar, to the Latinizing of English, to modern-day neologisms. It was very interesting to see that a lot of grammar rules are arbitrary and were decided on the whim of some guy. For instance, John Dryden rather randomly decided that sentences shouldn’t end in a preposition, so that English would seem less “barbaric” and more like Latin, and so now old-school purists think the same.
The Cove was another surprise. It starts off quiet: an Appalachian town during World War I, a lonely outcast girl, a stranger with a flute. But Ron Rash subtly and skillfully brings all the elements together, and what happens is at once inevitable, surprising, and heart-breaking.
Moby-Duck: The True Story of 28,800 Bath Toys Lost at Sea and of the Beachcombers, Oceanographers, Environmentalists, and Fools, Including the Author, Who Went in Search of Them not only has the longest subtitle I’ve seen in a long time but also reminded me David Foster Wallace’s nonfiction: fascinating, informative, entertaining, and very funny. It’s an example of the very best nonfiction. There’s what it’s about – seeking out these rubber ducks and other bath toys – and what’s it’s really about: the author’s external and internal journeys.
How good is The Magicians? The moment I finished it, I bought the sequel in e-book format although I prefer print. I won’t even say anything more about it. You must experience it for yourself. Just remember my snarky six word review: Harry Potter, grown-up, fucked up.
05
Jul 12
The Origin of “Hussy”
Mad Men housewife Betty Draper Francis and those hussies Don fooled around with have more in common than you might think.
We all know what hussy means: “a woman considered brazen or immoral.” But did you know it actually comes from housewife? The word housewife is an old one, originating in the 13th century as a combination of, you guessed it, house and wife, which are both Old English words. While house has always meant “dwelling, shelter,” wife once meant simply woman, the sense of which, says the Online Etymology Dictionary (OnED), “is preserved in midwife [and] old wives’ tale.”
While today housewife implies a woman who doesn’t hold a traditional job but manages a household (see house husband), it also meant “the mistress of a family; the wife of a householder; a female manager of domestic affairs.” Hussy, which originated in the 1520s, began as a shortening of housewife (the Old English word for house is hus) and, says the OnED:
gradually broadened to mean “any woman or girl,” and by 1650 was being applied to “a woman or girl who shows casual or improper behavior,” and a general derogatory sense had overtaken the word by late 18c. “It is common to use housewife in a good, and huswife or hussy in a bad sense” [Johnson].
Other hussy-like words also began with other meanings. Slut, attested to the 14th century, originally meant “a careless, lazy woman; a woman who is uncleanly as regards her person or her house; a slattern.” According to the OnED, Chaucer used sluttish “in reference to the appearance of an untidy man.” In the mid-15th century, slut also referred to “a kitchen maid, a drudge” (slut’s pennies were the “hard pieces in a bread loaf from imperfect kneading”); “woman of loose character, bold hussy”; and in the 1660s was used playfully, “without implication of loose morals.”
Minx, “a girl or young woman who is considered pert, flirtatious, or impudent,” first meant “pet dog,” and is of uncertain origin. It may be, says OnED, an abbreviation of minnikin, “girl, woman,” which ultimately comes from the Middle Dutch minne, “love.” Mink, in case you were wondering, may come from the Swedish menk, “a stinking animal in Finland.”
Tit, meaning “breast,” is a variant of teat, but tit meaning “any small animal or object” (like a titmouse) may have a Scandinavian origin (the Norwegian tita means “a little bird”), and in the 1590s referred to “‘a girl or young woman,’ usually in deprecatory sense of ‘a hussy, minx.’”
A quean (not queen) is “a woman; a female person, considered without regard to qualities or position,” and came to refer to “effeminate homosexual” in the 1930s or earlier, “especially in Australian slang.” While quean and queen are related, says Word Origins, quean comes from the Old English cwene, “woman,” while queen comes from cwen, “queen, female ruler of a state, woman, wife.” According to the OnED, “the original sense [of queen] seems to have been ‘wife,’” and was “specialized by Old English to ‘wife of a king.’”
A cukquean, says Word Origins, is the female version of cuckold, while a cotquean, which originally meant “housewife of a cot” or cottage, is an obsolete term for “a man who busies himself with the affairs which properly belong to women,” and “a coarse, masculine woman; a bold hussy.”
Now try telling all of that to Betty.