The year in writing post, circa 2017

As is often times the case when it comes to life, 2017 had its ups and 2017 had its downs. As much as people bemoaned just how tragic and shitty 2016 was, I honestly cannot say that I personally felt that 2017 was tremendously better.  As I said, the year had its up and there were some most certainly good things that occurred during the last calendar year, but 2017 had no shortage of bad things that happened to people in general, people close to me, and people directly in my own life.

There may not have been as many notable celebrity deaths that have sent the internet abuzz with fake sympathy, bogus empathy and all the hollow fuck thoughts and prayers on the planet that were often the root of the angst towards 2016, but there was still no doubt that a lot of crappy things occurred regardless.  At least with death, it’s definitive and final, and the repercussions are only as impactful to mostly immediate families and occasional organizational legacies.  But take for example shit like the white supremacist uprising that plagued Charlottesville earlier in the year; this is very real, scary shit that’s easily hidden behind the façades of normal society, and can rise and hide on a moment’s notice.

Psychos who open fire on open-air concerts doesn’t change the frightfully abundant amounts of assault weaponry in the United States, and people still can’t stop arguing over conduct during the National Anthem and whether we have rights, or the rights to practice rights and other redundant arguments that just feed into the flames of people being miserable.

Frankly, given the direction that the world is headed, I couldn’t imagine death sounds like a terrible thing to more nihilistic types, dreading what the world is turning into as time passes.  I don’t imagine I’m the only one who thinks that society is most certainly not going in the right direction and that things probably are not going to be any better in five years, in line with that old Jimmy Carter speech.

But that’s a shitty thing for me to say, because death is most certainly no laughing matter, and the world has seen its share of it this year, as it does every single year.  Whether it’s numerous lives decimated by natural disasters like the hurricanes that ravaged Texas and Puerto Rico to the massacres by the hands of terrorists, domestic and foreign alike.  Or the casualties of the unfortunate hands that life deals out to unlucky people who are taken from the world by cancer or other indiscriminate ailments.

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Star Wars: The Last Jedi thoughts (spoiler-free)

It was good.

Three-star Yelp review, A-OK. 

I walked into the theater completely blind, because I staunchly avoided seeing anything and everything in regards to the film because previews and even teasers give away more information than is remotely necessary.  I wanted to know jack shit going into it, so that I wouldn’t have any preconceived notions or expectations, and nothing but my own predictions formulated from the events from prior film.

The Last Jedi wasn’t the best installment of the series, but it was far from being remotely close to the trash that the first three episodes were.  I do not think it was not better than its predecessor, The Force Awakens, and if I had to rank the series, it would go as such:

  • Empire Strikes Back
  • A New Hope
  • The Force Awakens
  • Return of the Jedi
  • The Last Jedi
  • 37 pounds of cat poop
  • Jar-Jar I
  • Jar-Jar II
  • Jar-Jar III

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In Netflix, Marvel trusts

One of the good things about getting snowed in for most of the weekend was that it gave me the opportunity to sit on my ass and do nothing but watch television that I’d started to fall behind on.  But who am I really kidding, snow or no snow, sitting on my ass and doing nothing but watching television was already kind of on my agenda regardless of the weather outside, but it does sound like the snow was a convenient excuse to do such.

Anyway, I took the opportunity to start and finish the entire Punisher series on Netflix.  And much like several of the Marvel properties that preceded it, I have to say that Netflix has once again managed to take a fairly one-dimensional character, and make a watchable and fairly compelling season of television out of it.

I’m not going to pretend like I was a huge Punisher fan, really.  I always thought he was kind of an outlier in the Marvel Universe, since he wasn’t a superhero in the sense of having any powers or abilities, but instead more like an extremely well-armed vigilante with a death wish that actually killed people on a regular basis.  He was loosely separated by only a few degrees from bigger players, with associations to Nick Fury, Matt Murdock and the Kingpin, which puts him in remotely the same neighborhood as Spider-Man and the Avengers, but at the same time, Frank Castle wasn’t the kind of guy we’d expect to see in any major events or crossovers.

Seriously, what would Frank Castle contribute during the Infinity Crusades?  Weapons?  Tony Stark among others has that covered.  Micro’s hacking expertise?  Reed Richards and Ant Man, as well as again Tony Stark, probably have computers way better than Micro’s cache of 486s, much less his downfall when the wifi is unplugged.  I’m pretty sure Thanos with his power over, everything, wouldn’t even notice a trigger-happy psychopath with a glock when Thor and Hulk are trying to flank him.

However, the Punisher beat-em-up arcade game Capcom released in 1993, that used the same old Final Fight engine that 20 other games used was still pretty fun.

The point is, the Punisher was always a property that I thought was really out of place in the Marvel Universe, but he still existed so that storylines of New York-based superheroes could get dark and broody from time to time.

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Forever questions

The afternoon after I wrote my last post, I got home from work and I went into the backyard with the dog for some routine ball time.  In between throws, I scoured the ground and all the numerous patches of clover, looking for a four-leaf clover.  I know that at my old house, the backyard was rife with four-leafers, but it never took away from the happiness from finding one, with the hopes that somewhere in the world, the magic of the luck of a four-leaf clover could be cashed in, in some capacity.  And given the intensive dread that existed at that time concerning my family, I felt really, really hopeful that I could find just one more four-leaf clover in my new backyard.

I couldn’t.  Even after nearly 45 minutes of looking for a four-leaf clover, there were none to be found in my new house.  Even the dog was tired of running for the ball at that point.  There simply wasn’t one that I could find.

But it’s not that it would have mattered anyways.  About an hour or so later, I received a phone call from my sister, who let me know that her husband, my brother-in-law and father to my niece and nephew had passed away two hours earlier, well before I had begun my search for a four-leaf clover.

Even now, I replay the conversation in my head, and it brings tears to my eyes every time, hearing details of his last moments, and how he seemingly held on just long enough for his kids to make it to the hospital so he could say goodbye to them.  It’s difficult to even type out these words and keep my composure, thinking about it.

The thing is, all this happened right on the day in which my vacation was starting.  My first flight out was just hours away after getting off the phone with my sister, and I felt trapped in this unwinnable bubble that whatever I did was going to be the wrong decision.  Despite the fact that my sister insisted that I go anyway and try to have the best time I could given the circumstances, I still felt like an asshole embarking on an international vacation when someone important to my family had just died.  Sure, I know my sister, and I knew my brother-in-law well enough to know that they’d both have wanted me to go, but it still didn’t entirely feel right.

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Fulfilling destiny

It wasn’t as nail-bitingly exciting as the finale of the World Series last year, but I guess it seems kind of fitting that the deciding game of an otherwise insane World Series would end in such a mundane and anti-climactic manner, with the Astros jumping all over Yu Darvish in the first two innings, and then basically just holding on for two and a half hours, counting down 27 outs.

But in the end, the Houston Astros stand triumphant, winning their first ever World Series in franchise history, and I am pleased.  Contrary to the belief that I’m solely happy because it validates a moon shot of a pre-season prediction and makes me feel like I actually know a thing or two about baseball and how to make an educated guess, there are lots of other reasons why the Astros winning is a good thing in my opinion.

I’m happy for Carlos Beltran, whom I felt was one of the missing pieces for a championship-caliber squad, and it’s nice to know that such a talented star throughout a long career will get his ring.  I’m happy for Brian McCann, Evan Gattis and even Charlie Morton, as former Braves players who additionally filled out the Astros roster and contributed big-time performances throughout the playoffs with clutch hits and big innings; I always wanted McCann to be a Brave for his whole career, but such notions are pipe-dreams today, especially with a tightwad organization like the Braves.  But I’ve always rooted for McCann, and I’m happy to see him reach the peak, even if it’s for someone else.

I’m happy for the organization, who went through The Process and actually hit pay dirt in the end; all the years of living in the basement of both the National League as well as the American League when they moved, netted them numerous high draft picks whom most have developed and matured into stars like Carlos Correa, Alex Bregman and the World Series MVP George Springer, who absolutely went nuts throughout the series.  So many teams go through The Process, because there’s really no other alternative unless their organizations have massive payrolls, and so many fall short, because baseball is ultimately one gigantic crapshoot anyway.  But the Astros stuck with it, and with nothing more than good development, and smart acquisitions like McCann and Beltran, the team ascended up the mountain as contenders, and come out on top as champions.

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Stranger Things 2: The Steve Show and the bar for sequels

I just finished watching the second season of Stranger Things, and I’ll try to be as spoiler-free as possible, but to cut straight to the chase, I just wanted to say that it was some of the best television I’ve seen recently, and that I believe that it is the bar in which all sequels should aspire to perform to.

So yeah, I liked it.  No, I loved it.  Stranger Things 2 was fantastic television, and the most astonishing thing about it all, was how seemingly easy the show was executed to where it’s so super easy to enjoy nearly all of the characters, and be engaged and interested in all of the storylines happening concurrently.  The acting is so good throughout the show, and Winona Ryder and David Harbour make their characters just so easy to relate to and empathize for which in turn enhances the experience of watching the show.

But the true MVP of the show would have to be Joe Keery as Steve Harrington, who embarked on the face turn of a century that we haven’t seen since The Rock decided he was done with Vince McMahon and the Corporation before ascending into the cosmos.  It’s truly amazing, because I remember really hating the shit out of Steve in the first season, and hoping he would die or at least get written off the show.  But after the second season, there’s no star that broke through the night and rose to the cream of the crop and broke the glass ceiling and grabbed the brass ring more than Steve did.

I won’t elaborate any further on it since I don’t want to risk giving anything away, but the bottom line is that feel that Steve was the undisputed MVP of Stranger Things 2, and I certainly hope that anyone and everyone who watches it will feel the same way too.

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Tarnishing my Astro hopes

It’s no secret that I’m pulling for the Houston Astros in this year’s World Series.  After all, I predicted them to go all the way long before the season got started, and when it comes to sports fans, fewer things are more gratifying than being right, so it’s exciting to me that the team I called in December actually has a legitimate shot to fulfill my prediction.

But I have to say that even if the Astros pull off the victory, it’s going to be somewhat of a tainted victory, marred by naturally, some off-the-field shenanigans that the media has snowballed into a gargantuan deal that goes viral on social media and overshadows the event in which it took place, regardless of just how good of an event the actual event is turning out to be.

Because that’s what social media does, it ruins everything.

So the Astros’ first baseman, Yuliesky Gourriel AKA Yuli Gurriel to the hordes of people who don’t actually give a shit about baseball but have heard about this unfortunate story and want to be outraged by it anyway, was caught on camera making a supposed racist gesture towards the Dodgers’ pitcher Yu Darvish, whom everyone seems to be identifying as solely Japanese despite the fact that he’s actually half Iranian.

The thing is, I saw when this happened live, because I actually like baseball and was actually watching the game when the event occurred: Gurriel hits a home run off of Darvish, and then is back in the dugout.  Because FOX loves to pan cameras back to the person of the moment, they’re repeatedly panning back on Gurriel who is now back in the dugout, smiling and laughing with all of his present teammates, ecstatic at giving the Astros a lead on the Dodgers.  The offensive moment is all of 0.5 seconds, before Gurriel is back to quaffing his doofy bouffant hair.

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