Monday, December 16, 2013

Moving Pictures

Recently I've seen Hunger Games 2, Thor 2, Hobbit 2, Filth and last night, The Night of the Hunter. I'm lucky to live very close to the American Museum of the Moving Image, and a 10-screen cinema. The museum's website is shit for mobile and accessibility by the way, but the movies are good.

One of the features of my brain damage is that some level of critical faculty, or some intellectual processing is absent. So, I respond to things rapidly and honestly. This often means that I am easily manipulated by movies, but has another side effect: I can't rationalize a movie I'm finding dull with intellect.

As a case in point I was very engaged by Catching Fire, Thor and Filth least, perhaps the Thor movie, but Chris Hemsworth is yummy. I was so engaged by The Night of the Hunter, which has child actors who could be replaced by wooden blocks with little loss, that I am still thinking about it and its imagery today.

I thought the Hobbit was a bit dull. For all its flair, stellar effects and so on, I was bored. More Smaug, less New Zealand, and get a sodding move on.

Of them all, if you're looking for a good movie to take tweens and up to, then I would recommend The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. While you're there ask yourself who you are most like in real life. Snow's granddaughter? Effie? Senna? Be honest. I dare you.

The effect of the damage is interesting; it makes me a pretty cheap date: if a movie's well enough made, I will enjoy it regardless. It does have something of an emperor's new clothes effect though. You can't hide boring behind glitz. 

Sunday, December 15, 2013

I don't hate the snow, really.

Snowfall is a sign that my world is about to close in. I can do about a block radius, if I'm lucky. I live on a good block, so I can get to the gym or Starbucks, the pool, and the American Museum of the Moving Image, or the cineplex, usually within a day of the snow's arrival.

The subway is harder to get to at two blocks, especially since those bastards at the Salvation Army have never, ever cleared the snow. Once I'm on the subway, I'm probably going to be fine if I'm headed to Manhattan.

Walking any distance is difficult, tedious, tiring and frustrating. I'm in the coffee shop right now because it would take so long to go the one block home that my coffee would get cold. I'm not sure I could keep my balance while holding a cup either.

There's little point in asking anyone what the snow is like, either. They don't see the same things that I have learned to. Light snowfall is trivial to most, but hobbles me even more than I already have been.

I don't hate the snow, I still think it can be lovely, still love the idea of it. I despise, instead, what it does to me. 'Tis the season to be stuck at home, making rare forays into the world, remembering winters past. How jolly.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Spin The Cripple

My balance is still terrible. It takes conscious thought and some effort to just stand still, which of course I can't do. So it should be no surprise that the problem of relearning equilibrium has vexed me; I am heartily sick of being unstable.

As children we are wired to learn things that are so automatic that we don't even notice them as adults. Things like being able to slot blocks into holes, looking up when we walk, and being able to stand. Unfortunately adults are not wired to find learning such simple things interesting or fun. Such is life.

One activity that children seem to delight in at a certain age, and then no longer, is spinning around until dizziness overwhelms them. They often then fall over, regain their balance, and do it all again.

I wonder if that isn't training the brain to process the signals from the inner ear, and thus developing balance. Perhaps the key to fixing my balance is spinning like a dervish until I fall over. Of course, children have a much lower center of gravity, so this is just another reason to get access to a rubber room.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Snow day

I used to love when it snowed. The added inconvenience was worth it for the feeling that adventure and mystery had brushed the world and left a snowscape.

Not so much, now. I'm reduced to a near crawl by even light snow, and I'm pretty fed up with being the slowest guy around. Today, I am sick of the effort, conscious effort, it takes to even stand up without falling over or holding on to something.

All around are the able, regular people who can just stand idly with no thought. After more than two years it is hard not to hate them all. Harder still not to hate myself for a brain that is damaged, a body that won't respond or the indolent life that lead to a slow death.

Perhaps it's just the time of year, and I should go live by a beach.