Friday, February 14, 2014

The Hunger Games Ruined My Vocabulary

First off: right, yes, I know, I promised a review, but this one popped into my head and I had to run with it. Reviews are coming. Soon. Eventually. As soon as I get at least one of the books on my current reading list finished.

Now.

The Hunger Games ruined my vocabulary.

It's not just the Hunger Games, of course. A lot, and I mean a lot, of stories all conspired to ruin my vocabulary. Every fantasy/sci-fi story I ever read/watched was probably in on it. Probably the only books that weren't involved were that pesky Real Life series by Nancy Rue. (And when I say pesky, I mean so-awesome-you-should-totally-go-read-them. Like, right now. Or at least after you finish reading this blog.)

So anyway, it would take a lot of time to list all of the conspirators. For convenience I'll just list the worst ones here.

To start, the Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games ruined me because I can no longer hear the word "games" without immediately thinking of gladatorial combat. Seriously, just go ask Rainbow Dash why I want the Equestria Games to involve combat.
(Not that I'm not totally excited for a ponified version of the Olympics, but that's a different blog post.)

THG also totally ruined the word "career", along with "glimmer", "clove", "primrose", "rue", and especially "katniss".

Next up, Star Wars.

Star Wars ruined "master". Totally, utterly, completely. Also "knight", along with "system". (Though I at least understand the reasoning behind that one, so it works. But still.) And I'm not even going to go into "imperial" and "senate".

I could go on, but you probably get the picture. It's a conspiracy, I tell you, and the ringleader is none other than the troublesome mental phenomenon known as word association! It's a conspiracy, they're conspiring against me! Treason! Thieves! Fire! Murder!

...Sorry. Got a little off-track with that one.

But it gives me a great idea.

Someday I'm going to write a story about an elf who's divergent from her system's way of doing things. She goes on a quest with her master, and on the way they meet a knight of the Celestial Order who possesses a magical primrose flower known as the Rarity, and a cat-shifter morrowseer, gifted with foresight. Together they must avenge all of the dwarves killed by the Dark Lord Maul.

And it will be epic.

(Bonus points to the max if you can name all of the references that weren't name-dropped in this post.)

Again, stay tuned, because reviews are coming! Eventually. 

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

What Not To Do


Or, Fictional Stuff that Really Ticks Me Off.

***

Well, I wanted to start a series of reviews for books and movies I like, but since I'm on vacation that'll have to wait. So instead, you lovely people get a rant.
Also, I'm on my tablet, so feel free to point out any typos you see.
Anyway. On we go. (Links will be provided when appropriate.)

1) Female warriors with waist-length hair.
Tauriel as she appears in Peter Jackson's
The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug
Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow,
as seen in The Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes
This one is first because it really bothers me.

To start, I'm going to say a few things about myself. I'm a girl, so my hair is long but not really long. A few inches past my shoulders, at the longest. I keep it in a ponytail 90% of the time because it gets in the way if I keep it down. If I happen to be playing a sport or running around for some reason,  I'll definitely put it up, or even braid it.

So tell me: where is the logic in having loose waist-length hair if you're consistently going to be in a high-risk combat situation?

Answer: there isn't any. Hair that long could very easily get tangled, pulled, yanked out, caught on something, etc. Ever heard the story of Absalom? In case you haven't, he died because his long hair got caught on a tree branch, allowing him to be overtaken and killed.

Killed.

My Solution: Braid. Your. Hair. You want to look attractive and actiony? Well, that's asking for a lot, but that's a different blog. The point is, braid your hair. You get to keep it, and as a bonus it won't endanger you by getting caught so easily.

2) Gamma radiation is not a one-way ticket to super powers.

"That much gamma exposure should've killed you."
–Tony Stark on Bruce Banner's transformation into the Hulk (The Avengers, 2012)

This one came up because of two episodes the Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes series. The basic premise is this: a super-intelligent supervillain plots to take over the world (yawn) by enveloping the entire planet in a dome of gamma radiation, thus turning everyone inside into monsters.

Well, hate to break it to ya, Mr. "Leader" (I'm not kidding. That's his name.), but that would just kill everyone. Really. It would only be you and all those other weirdos from the specialized gamma radiation prison. Because you see, the sad reality is this: gamma radiation doesn't really turn people into monsters. It just... kills them.

I can hear the skeptics now. But you don't have any problem with the Hulk, and HE'S a gamma monster! Explain that one!

Alright, I will.

The thing is, Bruce Banner is one person. One person out of―I don't know―7 trillion people? And I'm willing to believe that that one person might have a specific genetic anomaly that might coincide with a specific level of gamma radiation to create the Hulk.

I am not willing to believe that it'll work for everyone.

My Solution: Um... I got nothing. Just don't use this backstory more than once, I guess.

3) Is it just me, or are humans the least developed, least advanced species ever to exist?

This one I'm dividing into fantasy and sci-fi, since it applies to both.

Fantasy:
Here you have elves (in tune with nature, awesome fighters, or both), dwarves (long-lived, sometimes with earth powers or metal-working powers to boot), dragons (They can breathe fire. 'Nuff said.), and any other fantasy creature you might want (including but not limited to: fairies, gnomes, orcs, hobbits, and shapeshifters). Whichever way you go, you've almost always got creatures that are more powerful, more long-lived, and generally all-around cooler.

Sci-Fi:
There tends to be more freedom of imagination here, but the basics are the same―nonhumans have longevity, six or seven senses, two brains, the ability to regenerate limbs, etc. Whereas humans are just... humans. Additionally, any extraterrestrials usually have technology that blows ours out of the water. 

Now, if you'll notice, the only thing all these fictional species tend to have in common is that they're all, to some degree, better than humans.

Now, I can see where the writers are coming from from their standpoint―if I'm going to use a nonhuman I might as well make them cool, and also different enough to be called nonhuman. But from a fictional standpoint, this is downright embarrassing. Because basically, if you're a human, you're automatically at a disadvantage.

My Solution: Either give the humans some unique abilities of their own, or limit the elves/dragons/shapeshifters/whatever.

4) Contrary to popular belief, it can be extremely hard to learn a new language.

The most egregious offender I know of for this one is probably Eragon. Not only did the titular protagonist learn to read in a week, he also learned a magical second language with minimal fuss or difficulty.

That is not the way things work, ladies and gentlemen.

I'm currently five months into a study of Latin, and I am no conversationalist in that tongue. I have a long way to go. Additionally, I'm in my early teens, and as far as I know my ability to learn a language is already declining. The protagonist of Eragon is two years older than me.

My Solution: For the love of StarClan, be realistic about these things. Don't make it easy, because it's not.

5) There is a thin line between "letting your heroes get off scot free" and "using every other character to blame the heroes for the collateral damage".

For that matter, there's also a line between "having everyone shower your heroes with praise" and "having everyone ignore the heroes... even after they've saved the world".

This is something My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic tends to err in. The Mane Six have saved the world three times (four if you count the Equestia Girls movie, which I don't). Yet we see in multiple episodes that no one seems to know who they are.

Superhero movies also tend to mess up with this. One of the things I like about the 2012 Avengers movie is that it shows a healthy balance here. Sure, some people are asking questions and wondering why the Avengers had to destroy half of New York in their battle. But others are thankful and frankly that's refreshing.

Actually, this leads me to another point...

6) Slandering the guy who can warp the fabric of atomic energy is a BAD IDEA.

Sure, some heroes will do the right thing and keep on saving people, even when they get no respect in return. Sure, some heroes will put up with all the verbal abuse. Some, on the other hand, wouldn't and won't.

Think about it, Mr. Outspoken Newspaper Editor. Do you really want a world where Generic-Man decides to quit his job because he can't catch a break? Do you really want some savvy villain to take advantage of your lies?

Heck, if I were a superhero getting razzed by the local newspaper, I might take a stroll over there and give 'em a piece of my mind. I might even fry some stuff. Sure, Spiderman and Captain America might put up with it, but I'll bet you Iron Man and Thor wouldn't.

My Solution: You don't need to eradicate J. Jonah Jameson and his ilk. They need scapegoats. I get it. That's always been a problem. But please, at least show the people who do care and are thankful. I know they exist, so give them a voice. (This also applies to #5.)

***

And there you have it. Some of the things that majorly bother me, and how they can be avoided. Next blog will be a review, I promise.

A Short PSA: Thanks to a quick bit of tinkering, anonymous comments are now enabled, meaning you can comment without needing a Google account. Just thought I'd mention it.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug

*Warning: The followed blog contains massive spoilers and unearthly amounts of ranting. Viewer discretion is advised.*

Dear Peter Jackson,
I'm writing this letter to express my complaints about your recent film "The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug". I have many complaints, and hopefully this letter will reveal to you the depths of my disappointment.

As stated, I have many complaints, but I believe I will start with the beginning of the movie.

Your opening scene with Thorin and Gandalf was excellent. Something I looked forward to for a long time. Let it never be said that Desolation of Smaug has a dull opening.

But then came the next scene.

It opened well enough. Bilbo doing surveillance, the dwarves being chased, and so on. But herein lies my first question: we ended The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey with the dwarves having been rescued by eagles. They were resting, safe, on the Carrock. What happened? Was there a timeskip? If so, why is this not clearer?

Anyway, the dwarves start through the forest, after Gandalf tells them that they're on their way to meet a shapeshifter. Said shapeshifter is nice enough when human, but rather animalistic in bear form. Oh, and it's hit or miss, you might catch him human and you might not, so let's run to his house and hope to high heaven he doesn't catch us on the way.

Oh, and there are orcs. Of course.

So they make it to the house, and apparently Beorn (the shapeshifter) isn't strong enough to break down his own doors.

Even in bear form.

So the dwarves get some much-needed rest. A bit later Beorn comes in in human form and serves breakfast... as he tells the tale of how he is the last shapeshifter, that they were all killed eventually by The Necromancer.

Dear Peter Jackson: What the heck? In the book Beorn's origins were speculated on, but never really explored. And then I see you spinning all this nonsense about a race of skinchangers that were captured when goblins and orcs came from the north. And then torture.

I don't think anyone really wanted breakfast after that little story.

Anyway. Moving on.

So Beorn and Gandalf warn the dwarves about the Mirkwood, yadda yadda yadda. They go to Mirkwood... and Gandalf discovers a mysterious sign that somehow portends evil. So his decision not to join the dwarves in Mirkwood is split-second, not premeditated.

Book deviation count: 5

Now, I'll consider what happens next a timeskip for your sake. The dwarves start well enough, but then lose the path and start wacking out. Illusion, mind games, and such.

In the book they deliberately left the path out of hunger, not madness. Book deviation count: 6

And then spiders. Bilbo is considerably awesomer than he was in the book. Dwarves are considerably stronger than they were in the book. A nice, book-oriented scene is ruined thanks to spiders.

And then the wood elves show up, and we get a first glance of Tauriel, much-famed female wood elf. And I must admit, she's awesome.

Except for the fact that she shows up... to save Kili.

Ordinarily I would rejoice at this. Female warrior and favorite dwarf together in one scene! But not so. And we shall see why... soon enough.

Anyway, the dwarves are marched to the wood elf palace and locked up. Some rather flirtatious dialogue is had between Kili and Tauriel. And then we cut to Thorin and Thranduil.

Admittedly, I was waiting for this. A scene I so wanted to happen. And at last, something goes right: Thorin starts yelling at Thranduil for his betrayal (if that's what you want to call it) that we saw in the first movie.

Thranduil retorts that he tried to warn Thorin's grandfather, what happened wasn't his fault, and he has seen things Thorin doesn't even know about--something about dragon fire, I think.

Dear Peter Jackson: What the heck? There's kind of a reason we have skin on our faces, you know. And you know what? I'm done. I really don't care if you can justify it anymore, I'm done. This is not the story we know and love.

But for the sake of possible better bits, I persevere.

Thorin is thrown in jail, possibly to rot, since "One hundred years is the blink of an eye in the life of an elf". Thranduil is dramatic if nothing else.

Thorin tells Balin of the deal Thranduil offered, and how he told Thranduil to go... um...

You know, I don't think there's even a way to translate that nicely, so I think I'm going to move on.

Kili is sitting in his cell, playing with this dark stone that has runes carved in it. Tauriel walks by, inquires, and Kili tells her that the runes will curse any non-dwarvish entity that reads them....

...And then decides that he'd really rather make friends with this nice (not to mention good-looking) elf. So he stops messing with her and they start talking.

While Legolas watches jealously from the shadows.

Book deviation count: 

Just to say, the chatty dialogue is nice enough... but you made your decision about this movie's level of darkness, Pete, and you can't have romance and dark action in the same movie without some very careful handling. This movie wasn't careful enough.

Moving on.

We then flip to the POV of Bilbo, who is sneaking around the elves' palace. He spies on Thranduil from the shadows as said elf king speaks to Tauriel about the giant spiders that are growing bolder.

Towards the end of their chat, Thranduil roundaboutly tells Tauriel that she is not to become romantically involved with his son, because she is basically not high-born enough.

So forbidden romance all 'round. Seriously, I thought this movie would be more original. But no.

Then we see Bilbo in the elves' cellar-rooms, where he discovers that the elves' empty wine barrels will be sent down the river to Laketown. So he steals the keys, lets the dwarves out, and packs them into barrels.

Now, allow me to back up a bit and explain something: back when the dwarves were at Beorn's house, a rather familiar orc by the name of Azog ordered a different orc--Bolg--to take up the hunt for Thorin, thus rehashing a lot of the tension seen in movie one. So this Bolg is hunting the dwarves, and he's about to catch up them via the river-gate.

You can see where this is going.

So the dwarves start down the river, with Bilbo hanging onto the side of one of the barrels, just as the elves discover that they're gone. Bolg and Co. show up and start trying to kill the dwarves. And since dwarves have, in fact, dropped to Enemy #2 since the orcs showed up, a massive orc-vs-elf battle ensues, with the dwarves in the middle of it.

Did this battle have great combat scenes? Yes. Did it have some other good bits? Yes. Did I like it? More or less. Was it in the book? No!

So the dwarves float down the river in the middle of a battle scene. Then they reach the river-gate that will allow them out of the elves' lands--and the elf shuts the portcullis right before being shot by an orc.

Dwarves are trapped as total orc-vs-elf pandemonium reigns. And then... our intrepid hero Kili realizes that he can, in fact, climb up to open the portcullis if he tries, danger and possible consequences be darned.

So he tries.

And he almost makes it, too. But just as he reaches the lever, Bolg takes aim with his bow and...

Now there's an arrow sticking out of Kili's thigh.

Book deviation count: 12

Long story short, the dwarves (including Kili) make their escape, and Thranduil decides to lock down the kingdom upon learning that some great evil has appeared.

Because putting everyone in lockdown always works when the world is at stake.

However, Legolas learns that before the lockdown order was given, Tauriel left the kingdom to go find Kili, after she learned that he was shot with a poisoned arrow. Legolas decides to follow her.

Book deviation count: 15

And then we flip back to the dwarves.

Our heroes have managed to make it out of the woodland realm and are resting on a riverbank. Their new main problem is discussed: they have no way of getting across the lake the river empties into, and Bolg and Co. would easily run them down if they tried to go around.

As this is being talked over, the shot zooms ominously in on Ori, who is innocently dumping water out of his boots.

Then he looks up.

And sees an archer poised at the top of a rock, ready to shoot.

Dear Peter Jackson: What the heck? I'm an avid reader of the book, and I'm pretty sure that's not how the dwarves met Bard. But then again, this movie hasn't exactly been a paragon of adherence so far, so I digress.

Book deviation count: 16

So the dwarves speak with Bard. Balin does his best to sweet-talk their new acquaintance into taking them to Lake-town. Eventually he succeeds, but only because he offered to pay double Bard's usual fare.

So the dwarves go to Lake-town, and Bard smuggles them into his house in a painstaking process that involves fish, latrines, and some mildly invoked threats. I have yet to understand why Alfrid and the Master have such a vendetta against Bard. What has he ever done to them? Exist?

Here I'll stop complaining to make a brief note: I like Bard and his family. I really do. If nothing else, they are the one accomplishment made in this movie. For me, at least.

And then, alas... something more happens.

Bard tries to hold up his end of the deal by securing weapons for the dwarves, but Thorin and Co. suddenly decide to be picky about their weaponry. They want iron weapons, the fact that all iron weapons in Lake-town are under lock and key be darned!

You can see where this is going.

Thorin and Co. decide to... break into the town armory and steal weapons.

Dear Peter Jackson: What the heck?

So they break into the armory and begin stealing weapons. It's actually going quite well. And then Intrepid Hero (aka Kili) comes down the stairs carrying an armload of metal weapons and trying to walk on a wounded,  poisoned leg.

Even worse, when Thorin (Kili's uncle) inquires, Kili claims he's fine, and gets a few more weapons to carry for his trouble.

Guess what happens.

Kili falls down the stairs, dwarves are captured, and Bard discovers that Thorin's appearance means not prosperity but destruction.

Thorin and Co. are marched before the Master, who seems more upset at being woken up than anything else. Before charges can be brought Thorin, being the amazing motivational speaker that he is, announces his identity and manages to convince the people of Lake-town that they will join in the wealth when Erebor is re-taken.

Bard arrives and tries to convince everyone of what he's discovered, but the Master discredits him by pointing out that Bard's ancestor was the one who failed to kill Smaug during the attack on Dale. Thus the dwarves get a proper welcome to Lake-town and there is much rejoicing amongst the townspeople.

A short timeskip is had, and the next we see of the dwarves, they're preparing to leave for Erebor--even though the group is notably lacking in a certain dwarf named Bofur. As the others board the boat, Thorin pulls Kili aside and breaks the news to him: He's not going with them to Erebor.

It's a logical decision--Kili is wounded and would only slow them down when they need to move fast--but it's also a decision that breaks Kili's heart. He and his brother (Fili) grew up on stories of Erebor and now...

Oin volunteers to stay with Kili, since he has healing experience. Fili, angry at his uncle's decision, defies Thorin and also stays behind.

And, of course, we have Bofur, who woke up late and missed the boat.

Dear Peter Jackson: What the heck? That's four dwarves not going with the others, one of whom only stayed behind because he... woke up late. Seriously? You'd better have a really, really good reason for this.

Anyway.

We flip back to Gandalf's POV, and find that he has come to an old, crumbling fortress. With some difficulty he gets in and goes to meet Radagast the Brown in a certain area. Here we learn that "the Nine" are gone, and thus The Necromancer (who is rising in the south Mirkwood area, at Dol Guldor) cannot be a human sorcerer, since "the Nine" only answer to one.

The Necromancer can only be Sauron.

And so Gandalf is forced to choose: rendezvous with the dwarves as he promised, or go to confront The Necromancer before it's too late?

Under some duress from Radagast, he chooses the latter and they set off.

At Dol Guldor, Gandalf sends Radagast to alert Lady Galadriel to what is happening. And then he goes in alone.

He explores a bit and attempts to expose the evil hiding in the fortress. These attempts are mostly futile, and thus he is caught off-guard when none other than Azog the Defiler attacks.

Dear Peter Jackson: What the heck? In case you need reminding, this is the wizard who took out a freaking balrog. The same guy who ended Theoden's possesion in the halls of Meduseld, who came with the rising sun to rescue Helm's Deep.

And he can't take out one orc?

I am done.

So Gandalf manages to keep Azog off his back, though he's nowhere near as good at it as he should be. He tries to escape, but is stopped by The Necromancer himself.

Gandalf casts a light-shield spell similar to the one he used in Moria, against the above-mentioned balrog. It... sort of works... but in the end The Necromancer is stronger and defeats him.

Okay, nothing wrong with that so far. When Sauron was at peak strength, the five wizards of Middle-Earth combined couldn't destroy him. He's at low power right now (as Gandalf handily pointed out earlier), but he should still be a match for a solitary wizard.

But now comes the bad part.

The Necromancer defeats Gandalf and pins him to a wall, using a wind-like force that seems to come with his swirling dark form. But then a figure clad in dark armor comes walking out of the flames, creating the famous eye of fire Sauron is known so well for.

Dear Peter Jackson: What. The. Heck.

As far as I remember, the last time Sauron had enough power to take on a human form like that was... the Second Age.

Even worse, he was only able to manifest himself then because he was at peak power and possessed the Ring.

Gandalf already pointed out that Sauron is currently at low power. So why the heck is he manifesting himself in a form he's only taken once before, at peak power?

Anyway, scene ends with Gandalf dangling over the side of a cliff in some sort of cage, watching in horror as orcs march toward the lonely mountain.

And with that happy thought in mind, we switch back to Thorin and Co.

Back at the Lonely Mountain, the dwarves refuse to wait for Gandalf at the assigned meeting place and strike out to find the hidden door. They do eventually find it, and wait in anticipation as the sun sinks, for the "last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole", and they need to find the keyhole to get into the mountain.

The sun sets.

Nothing happens.

The dwarves get depressed and make as if to go home, but Bilbo stays around. And as he stand there...

The moon comes out from behind a cloud and illuminates the door in just such a way as to show where the keyhole is.

The dwarves have penetrated Erebor. Finally.

In a way that never happened in the book.

So the dwarves send Bilbo into the treasury, and Balin explains that he's there to find the Arkenstone: a large, white gem that he'll know when he sees it.

Also, not waking the dragon would be a good idea.

And so Bilbo is left, alone, to work his nonexistant magic.

Bilbo sneaks into the treasure-room and searches for a while. But this treasure is huge--about as large as a medium-sized city, I'd say. Searching is all but futile when all the description you've got is "a large white gem".

Then Bilbo inadvertently wakes Smaug, and the two have a passably decent conversation... until Smaug tires of it and begins threatening Bilbo as only dragons can do. He knocks around a bit of the architecture in the treasury, and the resulting noise is heard all the way out at Lake-town.

Bard, being the perceptive, knowledgeable guy that he is, hears the noise and takes his black arrow--the one remaining weapon that can kill a dragon--and hurries to fix it to the dwarf-made bow that lies at the top of the city. Unfortunately, the Master and Alfrid really have it out for Bard now, and he ends up getting arrested while his son, Bain, hides the arrow.

Again, why is Alfrid so out to get Bard? Did Bard outrank him in chess club? Humiliate him in school sports? What happened?

Anyway. While Bard is gone, his house is attacked by--guess who--Bolg and Co. The three unwounded dwarves don't have any weapons, and though they put up a fight it's not looking good for Bard's daughters and Intrepid Hero (aka Kili).

And then, who should show up but Legolas. Closely followed by Forbidden Romance Magnet, aka Tauriel.

The two elves make quick work of the orcs. Legolas leaves to go after the ones that got away, but Tauriel is torn between her duty and her crush. (I refuse to call it 'love'.) Finally she chooses Kili, takes the healing herb Bofur found during the orc attack, and uses it to heal Kili.

And then... okay, I'm going to admit. Out of place though it was, I thought this scene was pretty sweet. Or at least cute.

I mean, come on. At least there wasn't any kissing.

Anway, what happens is this: after being healed by Tauriel (and the poison-curing herb athalas), Kili wakes in a dreamlike state and admits his love for Tauriel, not realizing that the person he's talking to happens to be... Tauriel.

But no outright declarations of love are made on Tauriel's end, so there is yet hope for the sanity of this movie.

Actually, no, there isn't. But the scene was at least decent.

Anyway. Meanwhile, back at the mountain, the dwarves finally go in to help Bilbo. And somehow they conceive what shall henceforth be known as "The Plan to End All Plans".

Or just The Plan for short.

Anyway, the dwarves split up and lead Smaug to the old gold-forges. They trick him into rekindling the fires, and then melt all the gold lying about. Through the power of teamwork and insanely one-sided luck, they all manage to survive stage one of The Plan and then get Smaug to head to one of Erebor's enormous halls. There, Thorin taunts his enemy and then helps break apart an enormous stone mold, revealing a huge golden statue of his grandfather.

It's kind of sad, but I have to admit that that statue was one of this movie's high points.

The statue, which is actually made of molten gold, then melts, drowning Smaug in liquid gold.

But of course this doesn't kill Smaug, because if it did then you, my good Sir Jackson, wouldn't have a third movie to make millions off of. So Smaug breaks out of the gold and flies off to torch Lake-town.

Cue credits.

In conclusion, this movie was utterly disappointing for me. The plot was wildly inadherent to the book, the romance was out-of-place at best, the characters, though interesting, had almost no development whatsoever, and the scriptwriter(s) seemed to have forgotten everything that transpired in the four previous Middle-Earth movies.

To sum up, I will not be viewing "The Hobbit: There and Back Again" until it comes out on DVD, thus depriving you of twenty dollars or so. And, admittedly, I will be much more cautious about sequel films in the future. You have taught me a valuable lesson, Mr. Jackson, bitter though it was.

As a parting note, I believe that this movie can be summed up in a paraphrasing of one of its more "poignant" lines.

"That, my lad... was a flop."

Sincerely,
A Concerned Fan

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Music Worth Commending

There are probably few things I like more than music (aside from the obvious, of course). A lot of the music I like reminds me of my writing, but even if it doesn't there's still a chance of me liking it. Some of my favorite bands include TobyMac, Owl City, Britt Nicole, and Needtobreathe. But there is one artist that I wish to commend above all the others, and his name is Howard Shore.

We'll see why in a moment. 

Lately, I've been listening to a lot of instrumental music while I do schoolwork. Since tracks from The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey make up quite a few of my instrumental tracks, I've been listening to those quite a bit. And I've also come to formulate a theory hypothesis: Music cannot convey emotions nearly as well as words and images can. 

Why? Well, to start with, words. Words are probably a lot more "real" than music is, because in this day and age we are surrounded by the written word every day. On this webpage alone are thousands of written words. Any literate person can read this words and formulate their own mental meaning/image/argument/etc. to go along with them. So words are more "real" than music. 

Next up, images. Images are even more "real" than words, probably because most human beings input and process images constantly, day after day. Images can be taken in in a fraction of a second and understood in the next fraction of a second. Images generally have no problem conveying what they want to convey. So images are very "real". 

And that brings us to music. 

Music is abstract. We hear it in a fraction of second, yet what we hear does not immediately convey a message the way words do. This is especially true of orchestral/instrumental pieces. And so it can be a lot harder to use an orchestra to convey emotion. 

Which brings me to a final point. 

The only song that has ever truly, primally, scared me is an orchestral, instrumental piece by Howard Shore. It's called The Hill of Sorcery.

Now, it should be noted that I don't listen to a lot of "scary" music, so maybe that doesn't count. But this piece of music is also the only song out of the 208 songs that I like that evokes any sort of true emotion for me. The runner-up is probably Vanilla Twilight by Owl City. But that has lyrics, and works in conjunction with images from a movie-that-shall-not-be-named to make me sad. So it's not a very close runner up. The Hill of Sorcery has no lyrics and, though it is from a movie, is just as scary on its own as in the scene it goes with. 

And that is why I want to commend Howard Shore. 

(A note: If you just want to hear the scary part of The Hill of Sorcery, skip to 1:41 and listen carefully. To see the scene that goes with it in the movie, go here.)