Friday, April 15, 2005

Snow White: Childhood Icon or Hitler Youth Mascot?

So I was watching a handful of old Disney flicks A) Because I'm kinda coming down with something, and B) We're doing Snow White as a play.
I am a tree/evil spirit. Whoot for costume changes!


Based on Dr. Merlin’s Litmus Test, where questions are answered or true/false statements verified and points are awarded.

I give you: Disney’s Snow White:

-A noun or adjective not normally used for a name (especially for human characters)[1]? Snow. White.
-Is the character's name in the title of the story or is the title otherwise a description of the character? (i.e. "The Girl Who Could Fly")[5] "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves." (Note how the dwarves as individuals are not given equal billing.)
-Is the character the same gender as you?[1] Female. That’s undoubtably more than half the viewing audience. All the little boys went with their dads to see Transformers, or some similar manly movie where people, once dead, STAY THAT WAY.
-Is the character from the same racial group as you?[1] Caucasian. "Hello immigrants! Welcome to the USA, circa 1937! Please accept this bottle of hair dye and compact of pale white face powder. Don’t leave the house without applying ample amounts of both! This is America, we welcome everyone seeking the American Dream and place them lovingly into our homologous melting pot!"
-Is the character not subject to limitations normally put upon someone of this species?[4] Like, for instance, coming back to life after being dead and not eating or expelling waste for what one would assume is a LONG period of time, considering the dwarves took time to mourn AND build her a beautifully crafted etched glass and gold coffin.
-Is the character a teenager or in her/his early twenties?[1] Now personally, Snow White has all the form of an 11 year-old. No bosom. I repeat, no bosom. No matter how good and sweet she may be, the fact still remains that Snow White is 12, at the most, only a foot taller than the other dwarves. This, in fact, makes the Prince Charming a pedophile.
-Does the character look like s/he is a teenager or in her/his early twenties for no apparent reason[2]? Not really, no. Again, ELEVEN. Disregard.
-Is the character beautiful or roguishly handsome?[1] In Walt Disney’s mind, yes. Which raises questions about why he would build a garish amusement park, such as one would lure little children into one’s den of sin with. *cough*MichaelJackson*cough*
-Does one or more of the others find the character highly attractive?[1] Yes.
Do others see him/her as a threat because of this?[1] Helloooo? This is the angsty crux of the story!
-Does the character have really nice hair that you describe more than once, or on the first page?[1] God, the Magic Mirror practically moans orgasmically when he describes her hair "black as ebony."
-Is the character otherwise physically disabled? (anyone who says "She's so pretty that it's like a disability because everyone hates her or wants to have sex with her" will be summarily keelhauled)[subtract 2 pts] - No.
-Is the character no longer disabled at the end of the series, or else dead?[1] Well, technically she is dead, but she stays that way for all over five minutes.
-Is the character mentally disabled? (read: at the functional level of Forrest Gump or below)[subtract 2] Matter of opinion, but I’m gunna say yeah on this one.
-Was the character adopted or did he/she otherwise live with people who were not his/her parents as a child?[1] Apparently.
-Add points for each aspect seen somewhere during your character's life:
-abandoned by caregivers[1] Absentee father who married a psychotic bitch. Yes.
- born or forced into slavery[1] By psychotic bitch. Yes.
- born or raised in extreme poverty[1] See above. Yes.
- sole survivor of a calamity[2] Psychotic bitch-mother’s reign of terror and plot to murder her: yes.- physical abuse[2] Probably by psychotic bitch.
- sexual abuse by a caregiver[3] …Now if the psychotic bitch stepmother queen had an unresolved sexual attraction to her stepdaughter--besides being a lesbian/incestuous/pedophilic sex-sandwich that’d make Freud die of joy—it gives a whole new motivation behind her supposed "jealousy" of Snow White. Ew. And ew.
- rape[3] EW!- illegitimate birth[2] Perhaps. Note how few Disney heroines have solid mother-figures in their life.
- later parent of illegitimate child[1 pt each] She lived with 7 little men. Chances are she was preggo before she hit Prince Charming’s horse. So that’s 7 possible points for being a pre-teen ho bag.
- any other life experience inspired by V.C. Andrews[3] Oh, the boundless possibility.
-Does the character share your religious beliefs?[1] There is that one pointless scene where she prays to a window (which is what a lot of Disney characters do when praying,) so I’d assume so.
-Did the character have an unusual birth or unusual experience in early infancy? (i.e. abducted, placed in a basket and set afloat, visited by Three Weirdos, etc.)[1] Does her birth-mother (who undoubtedly would have treated her nicely and changed Snow White’s future,) dying count?
-Does the character have a very good singing voice?[2] As a matter of fact, no. But one must assume that it sold in 1937.
-Does the character have better taste in music than you do?[1] God no. There’s a yodeling sequence. Has anyone else noticed the dwarf’s tendency toward Germanic-looking folksy decorating? The faces carved on the wooden chairs, organ, and water pump come to mind, along with the instruments.
-Does the character do what you do for fun or profit?[1] I do clean my house, but Snow White really seems to get a bang out of doing the cottage, but I'm not even going to make that similarity a distinction. So what does Snow White do that I do? Slave for 7 little men and wait around for Prince Transvestite-in-an-unrecognizable-period-costume? Nope. Not really. Though I do envy her pretty coffin. Not that I want it for my personal use or anything.
-Is the character royalty of any type?[3] Yeah.
-Does everyone end up liking the character?[1] Of course. She’s Snow White.
-Does the character just "know things" for no apparent reason?[2] Kind of. Well, in the play we’re doing she guesses everyone’s names without any reference to what’s carved on beds or coat hooks. It’s like she’s precognizant or something. Then again, she’s completely clueless about the apple thing.
-Do animals (especially fuzzy ones) instinctively like the character?[2] It’s an integral part of the film.
-Does the story end with the character's wedding?[2] Yeah. It was the beginning of a cherished Disney animated feature tradition!
-Would you like to be friends with the character if you met in real life?[1] Nah. I’d probably give her a lollipop and send her off to clean my room. Or sell her into slavery to some trailer trash guy in a wifebeater.
-Do you introduce the character on the first page of the story?[2] Yes.
-In the first sentence?[1] Yes.
-Does the character save the day and/or another character's life?[3] Yeah. Though I’m not sure how.
-Through magical/mystical intervention?[1] First kiss bringing someone back to life: yes.
-Through dying? [3] Kind of. Again, death appears to be only semi-permanent.
-Through almost dying?[2] See above.
-Does everyone go into mourning?[1] Hell yes.
-Does s/he get not-dead by the end of the story?[4] Yeah.
-Will s/he get not-dead in the sequel?[4] I hope to God there is no sequel. Ever. Although some part of me remembers vague snatches of a cartoon where it was Snow White, but with longer hair and a (somewhat) better wardrobe going off with her fuzzy animal friends to rescure Prince Charming because he’d gotten himself into some kind of jam and managed to fuck it up to the point where he is absolutely helpless and useless. Think about it. All he has to do to "rescue" the Princess is get his mack on her while she lies senseless and inert. Although considering they believe she’s dead, having to muster up the courage to kiss a corpse must’ve been interesting. Although, like I said before, Snow White doesn’t seem to decay at the natural rate.

Now let’s add up the points.

0-14 Developed character, unlikely MS.
15-20 Borderline character. Characters in this range are potential MS's, who can go either way dependent on the author's skill.
21+ Mary Sue/Gary Stu. Proceed with greatest caution.
35+ Reconsider your character and plot. Please.

Snow White’s score: 83/170. Hm. Now because the Litmus Test was based on the Gargoyles fandom and written fanfic by the author making the test, obviously some questions were non-applicable seeing as Snow White is human, with no apparent magical powers aside from her angelic goodness, and I am not the creator of the movie or play. So I did a basic tally of how many questions were nullified by the Gargoyles thing, which was a difference of about 79 points. So it’s more realistically 83/91.

Snow White: The Original Mary-Sue, back when Mary Sue was cool for approcimatly five minutes.

In this movie, Boring Perfection whistles while she works, makes friends with the cute furry woodland animals, and wears a collar like one that would prevent my dog from biting its stitches. And as a side note, considering that with the dwarves' penchant for Germanic folksy crap and Snow White's name and personality tendancies and the whole emphasis on hard work and a simple country lifestyle, the whole thing smacks of Nazi Propaganda and the Aryan Myth. It was 1937, and Hitler was in a full upswing, almost at the height of his pre-war powers, which was a full 4 years before America even entered World War Two, which had pretty much been going strong and was ignored by the US since 1939 when things really took off for Germany and Chamberlain realized the appeasement policy was absolute crap and they were now to get their asses handed to them on a platter unless they did something drastic and elected Churchill.
Gaaaaaah.

Snow White: Gunned Down!

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Saturday, April 09, 2005

All The Money in the World and They Can't Afford Decent Hats!

Oh Camilla. Honey. I know that you and Charlie are gloriously happy and on your way to Scotland, but...you couldn't have gone to the alter wearing a better headpiece? I dare not call it a hat. It was like a headband...made of spiked feathers. I can tell you didn't like it. The wind itself was even trying to rip it off your head as you exited the church. Your fingers were just itching to tear the bloody thing off. I could care less if it was made of silk and Swarovski crystals or diamonds or whatever. It looked like a very fememine, yet still very scary pitchfork had been pinned to your halo of hair. It looked like crap, and you knew it! Expensive designer crap, but still crap. I could see you clutching at it as the wind buffetted around you both, throwing hubby's comb-over straight up into the air while you tried not to dig manicured nails into your skull out of frustration. I was reading your lips, and thisi s what I got:
"Fuck. Fuckitty fuck-shit. Bugger. Bugger. Bloody bugger....bugger it...bugg--SOD OFF!" as Prinny tried to help you out with your hair. Married life's a bitch, isn't she?
I know that you could hardly help it. I'd been hoping that the British Royal Family's women's tendancy to wear the most ridiculous headgear wasn't communicable by marriage, but apparently I was to be disappointed. Eugenie, the Queen, Fergie...even the spectators and world leaders, no one was spared. If you have a vagina and a modicum of social status, you are thereby forced to wear the most hideous hats in all of Christendom upon your fashionable little heads. The rest of the world usually leaves the run-way model art nouveau shit ON THE RUN-WAY. But not you. You and your dear now-mother-in-law love to lead the pack into the haberdashery, milliner's or even a craft supply shop, carrying nothing but a squirming toddler and a glue gun. Half an hour later, you emerge wearing the sweetest little creation imaginable upon your blue-blooded tete. Even Fergi's daughters, who ought to be running about playing field hockey or studying for exams at this age...they are relegated to the ranks of Hideous Hat-ness, for all purposes looking as if they mugged the Cat in the Hat on the way to the wedding, dyed his jaunty little chapeau--the hobo-esquely battered Abe Lincoln striped stove pipe hat--black and cream, while adding a giant velvet bow and perhaps some spiked feathers to give it that zingy touch of femeninity.
Eugenie...sweetheart...it's really not as bad as it looks...well, actually, it is. But there's nothing you can do about it. Once you hit your teens, you know that you must forever eschew the hairbows and braids for the Realms of the Royal Hats. It's like some sick kind of fashion-world bat mitzvah--on crack.
I put it to you all--who among you has ever seen any female member of the Royal Family in a hat that you could honestly wear while attending a conservative wedding Down South, or to a posh business meeting? While walking down the streets of NYC? (I know in NYC anything goes, but we're talking a hat that you could wear as part of a rich-looking ensemble, that people could see you in and not respect you any less or assume you are on drugs or part of a parade.) In my entire life, I have never seen ANYONE wearing a nice hat in that sector. Even Diana--bless her heart--never wore any hats that struck me with their normalcy and good taste. Only her poise, good humour, and killer face and body carried off those hats with a smidgen of grace beyond the utter humiliation that would have consumed a lesser noble. I can't be angry at the Queen or the late Queen Mum, because as they are getting up there in years, their hats have been less ambitious and subtly tasteful. But I have yet to see a simple hat on either of them, (one that doesn't include feathers or mounds of draped tulle or cheesecloth.) I respect and adore the Queen as the Queen ought to be respected and loved, so I never say anything out loud about her hats, though I can't help thinking things. Who could?
The Bottom Line: Whoever is the Royal-Hat-Picker-Outer needs to be sacked. Now.

Anyhow, best of luck to Charles and Camilla, I hope you'll be very happy! :)

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Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Celebrity Match-Ups, Episode One: Josh Groban vs. Andrea Boccelli

So I'm sitting in my room, in front of my computer, checking e-mail, doing various menial tasks, freezing because first I took off my blouse that has the almost-annoyingly long sleeves to eat dinner (I don't like shit dragging in my food every time I reach for the salt.) Then I took off my bra because there was weird grainy crap settling in between the two layers of fabric, making itchy little bumps all over my chest. I have no clue what it is or how it got there. So now I'm wearing a tank top, there is no heat in this section of the house, and it is early April. (Yes, April, but early April.) To get my mind off the fact that I'm too lazy or nihlistic to go grab me a sweater or plug in the space heater, I was thinking, maybe I ought to get some music to listen to. Given that the speakers don't work on my computer, the only solution would be to plug in my CD player and go find a CD I want to listen to. (Yes this could, conceivably be more work than plugging in a space heater AND grabbing a sweater combined. Whatever.) So I'm debating what I want to listen to, when I hear my Dad in the kitchen down the hall, whistling merrily while he does the dishes, and listens to my Josh Groban CD.
There is some backstory to be had here.
Basically, my father's first reaction to Le Monsieur Groban was "He's no Andrea Boccelli."
My reaction: "A) His name is Andrea, and he's a boy. B) His last name is two l's and one e away from being the Italian word for lawn bowling. C) He's blind, and kind of scruffy looking. (Not really his fault, though. If I were blind, I wouldn't be to keen on taking a razor blade to my face and neck either.) The only thing Mr. Boccelli has going for him is that he's from Tuscany."
The result: The War of the Ages. Until now it's been The Josh vs. The Andrea. Which sounds unfair, like a guy fighting a girl. But it's not. Anyhow, let's take a look at the stats, shall we?

Josh---
Vocals: Dulcet, young, pure, and sexy. It's like he's sexing up your ears. 1 pnt.
Song Choices: Romantic, and usually tragic. A good portion of them are in Italian or Spanish or French, but these songs are usually nonetheless understandable and are tempered with songs in English so as to give you a taste of the exotic without making you feel like you need to know 4 languages to appreciate the CD. 1 pnt.
Dress Code: Tasteful, yet relaxed. Like the boy next door taking you on a date. A classy date.
Looks: Let's just say the CD ought to have some kind of visual stimulant along with the recording to make the experience complete. None of these jacket photos. I'm talking holographic images that move, and maybe even dance amongst waterfalls, rose gardens at dusk, and lit candles... 1 pnt.
Place of Origin: LA, California, USA. Hm. We'll need to work on this. LA is all well and good, but the big city doesn't even have much of the stuff of dreams in it, besides Hollywood. NYC is much the same, but with the old-world glory of the immigrant stories ofthe diverse peoples who have settled there. I know there are diverse peoples in LA too, but I've been to LA twice and all I got was food poisoning, sun stroke, and abandoned by my brother in front of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. At night. LA has few happy memories for me right now. (Note to Mr. Groban: this could change if I'm given tix to a concert in your hometown. *winks*) o pnts.
Total Score: 4/5 pnts.

Andrea---
Vocals: Not bad. Given that you appeal to my father, though, there's little to no sexual spark here. I'd give you a hug. At most. 1/2 pnt.
Song Choices: This may be because of his place of origin, but I have yet to hear him sing in English. I can only take the romantic languages for so long before my brain starts to leak through my ears as I try to translate the rudimentary meaning of the songs. o pnts.
Dress Code: Snazzy, but again, my father likes you. Could be a sign of being a little bit stodgy. (P.S. I love you Dad!) 1/2 pnt.
Looks: Again, scruffy. Not even sure what his eyes look like. You'd think it wouldn't matter if he opened them or not. But it's just a little uncanny, even if he's not doing anything that would normally require sight. 1/2 pnt.
Place of Origin: Tuscany. Okay, here I can give you full points over Mr. Groban. Tuscany is a beautiful place, and on my list of top places to visit before I die. (Actually, it's probably at THE top.) 1 pnt.
Total Score: 2.5/5 pnts.

Well, there they stand. So my only logical conclusion would be to have Mr. Groban go to Tuscany. Andrea can tag along if he wants. Poor little guy. I'll buy you some gelato.

Now I'm off to re-comandeer my CD. It's like when toddlers have to pick a toy, and the one their sibling has always looks the most fun? Except that it IS my CD and I have been looking for it for weeks. I even asked my Dad about it, and he said "It's on top of the..." and wnet off to do something else. I assumed he meant on top of the microwave, which is where we keep a box of CD's in the kitchen to listen to. I have looked there, however, and my Josh CD is not to be had. I am no assuming he meant either on top of the fridge or on top of the cupboards above the stove, both of which places are significantly out of my reach. So I KNOW he listens to it, and I KNOW he has it. But he still feels the need to hide it from me, like some kind of dirty little secret.

Welcome to the Fold, Dad. It was bound to happen that you've come to admire Josh's vocal abilities (but one would hope not his looks :S) and the fanclub welcomes you with open arms. It's okay to cry a little. There, there. Your struggle against the inevitable is over...

(Sounds eerily like futuristic cult or governmental melting-pot, a-la-Big-Brother.)