Neal

(Beware, spoilers) Despite one or two credulity-straining moments, Iron Man may be best superhero film ever. It’s right up there with Spider-Man 2 and Batman Returns.

For a change, Robert Downy Jr makes the secret identity every bit as entertaining as the hero identity. Tony Stark has a distinct and engaging personality, which will be all the more crucial when we start getting crossover movies. If you haven’t heard, they are coming – after Thor and Captain America get introduced in their own films, they’ll be teamed up with Iron Man and who knows who else in The Avengers. Which could be a disaster, or it could be film’s biggest leap forward on the path to sophistication already blazed by certain superhero comics. I’m optimistic. More and more, the films are getting it right. You have to take the material seriously.

I know how that sounds. I’m embarrassed to even type “superhero.” But there is something deeper than Adam West at work. Read Douglas Wolk for what’s really behind the goofy names and spandex.

The superhero myth is tailor made for a Hollywood blockbuster, and mostly they go by the numbers. Act 1; the secret origin. Act 2: adjusting to the new powers and the first big bust. Act 3: the arch-nemesis puts the love interest in danger and showdown ensues. Iron Man follows the formula, but twists it just a bit. The whole film is really the origin of Iron Man- he becomes fully formed only with the last line of the movie. That last line is a triumph, fulfilling Tony Stark while surprising. Not to mention it segues beautifully into the inevitable but happily restrained Black Sabbath song, you know the one. A song that is alluded to throughout the score but never trotted out for campy effect. Thank Frith.

Juno Reactor has gone in a very different direction with their latest album, Gods and Monsters; most notably, actual singers singing actual lyrics. The reviews on iTunes are not kind. Fans feel betrayed. The new sound belongs on a Massive Attack chill album, they say, nothing like the high adrenaline goa we expect from JR. Based on the sample clips, I was inclined to agree. Soulful singing, ponderous beats, bleargh. I considered buying just the higher energy instrumental tracks, but wound up buying the whole album. I try not to let the critics think for me, plus I am a collecting completist. Plus the cover art is to die for.

The surprising thing is, I like it. All of it. Sure, there’s nothing to equal Ice Cube or Giant or Kaguye Hime, tracks that get me so pumped I can’t even sleep hours after listening. But JR includes a couple chill songs on every album. Insects and Solaris, two low-key songs, are high points on Shango. So the idea of taking it down a notch is not so alien.

Gods and Monsters is as epic and cinematic as anything JR has done, maybe more so. The contrasting slow songs give the fast songs a stronger impact. The geographical touchstones, while spread across three continents, pull the whole piece together. It’s like a soundtrack for a cyberspace experience shared by individuals scattered all over the globe. It makes me feel like I’m flying a spaceship instead of driving my car. In my ongoing quest for hallucinogenic music, Gods and Monsters performs admirably.

The one track that does nothing for me is Mind of the Free, which just wallows in the slow and simplistic vocals. What blows me away is how much I enjoy the last song, Pretty Girl. This is not a techno track of any variety. One reviewer called it “embarrassing.” The iTunes sample clip seems to teeter on the brink of R & B, which I can’t stand. But I don’t hate Pretty Girl. I really dig it. I suppose it puts me in mind of that other hallucinogenic concept album act, Pink Floyd.

Stumptown Comics Fest 2008 was the best yet. Sales of Island of the Moths continue to climb. The Introvert Manifesto stickers ran off into the wild. Made some new friends, caught up with old ones, saw lots of familiar faces from previous classes and 24 hour comics. Marcie user-friendlied up our table and kept me stocked with Cyclotoon cards. Our under the table kinomatograph show dazzled once again. I had a nice little conversation with Brian Michael Bendis. In fact I was having such a good time in the exhibition hall on Saturday that I practically forgot there were panels and spotlights going on across the way, all of which I missed. Sigh.
However, I made a point of not missing the parties, award ceremonies, and Comic Art Battle, a spontaneous creative face-off Eminem wishes he could approximate in 8 million miles. It was an exhausting weekend, but now that it’s over I can’t stop poring over every blog recap and flikr photo on the web.

The high point: for me it was my workshop, Instant Graphic Novel. This was an experiment in high-speed collaborative story generation I had never tried before (nor had anyone else as far as I know), and it worked out beautifully. 14 people cranked out 21 pages in under 2 hours. Check it out.

The low point: looking like a doofus in front of Carla Speed McNeil. The book I asked her to sign was already signed and dated 2007. It was signed when I bought it, I’d seen her dated signature in there, but somehow it didn’t register. What a doofus. She took it in stride, signed another page with the current year, “starting a yearbook.”

The big score: first edition hardcover of Beanworld #1, signed and numbered with unique Larry Marder bookplate drawing. Larry created the art for our badges this year, and signed mine, adding multicolored Sharpie dots.

Other highlights: Mike Russell’s discussion of what makes webcomics successful was thrilling, grounding and encouraging. Tom Biby and Jonathan Fetter-Vorm’s ridiculously gorgeous and big enough to sleep in adaptation of Beowulf. Angela Melick’s stunningly accomplished 24 hour comic, Stuffed Afterlife. Rocket-throttling squid and anxious long-eared Beasties. The ever growing Portland comics community, tight-knit, all-inclusive, whimsical, heartfelt, vulgar, profound. I am overgorged on cartoony wonderment and only want more.

On April 5 & 6, I attended my 5th 24 Hour Comic session. This one took place at Cosmic Monkey Comics on Sandy Boulevard. Over 20 people participated, including Jim Valentino and David Chelsea, who completed his 10th 24 hour comic and holds the record. Top Shelf will be publishing a collection of David’s 24 hour comics soon. Leigh from Top Shelf was also there, shooting video and running online commentary.. This was the liveliest 24 hour comic event I’ve ever been to. Only about half the people stayed through the night, but it never settled into the graveyard calm that usually comes after midnight.
It occurred to me last week to use this session to work on my webcomic, with the goal of drawing 24 episodes. Not my usual, purist approach of going in with no ideas about the subject matter, but much more challenging because I’m already invested in the characters and story of The Introvert Manifesto. I couldn’t charge forward with random shifts on every page; I know the two main characters pretty well already, and while the story remains largely open, there are certain essential touchstones I have in mind. I also drew on larger paper, and averaged almost twice as many panels per page. Basically, none of my normal tricks for finishing 24 pages on time would apply.
I worked hard not to rush the story along, not to arrive at the scenes I had in mind in a way that violated the internal logic. This process was more draining than my standard flying-by-seat-of-pants approach. At 10 pm Leigh announced that we’d reached the halfway point, and it became clear that I wouldn’t finish 24 pages. An hour or two later I thought seriously about quitting. I could still get a night’s sleep and have half a weekend. But I stuck it out and wound up with 14 pages. I’ll be posting them one per week for the next few months, episodes 7 through 20.
24 pages would have given me six months of strips, maybe enough to get me to the next 24 hour session at PNCA. It’s an attractive proposition, doing the webcomic all in semiannual 24 hour marathons. I really seem to do my best work that way. This weekend I made some crucial connections in ways I’m quite happy with, made enough progress to establish a real trajectory, and learned more about the characters. (Cole is turning out to be such a militant, Leif will have to discover certain things himself instead of getting them from his buddy.) But right now I’m thinking I’ll go back to freewheeling improv for my next 24 hour comic. Maybe I’ll do another stretch of TIM in 24 hours, but I’ll go back to drawing episodes weekly before then.

There’s no way to do this without playing into the hands of the enemy, which just goes to show how far the discourse has devolved. I’ll just blunder forward.
I’m fed up with Pollyanna patriotism. Why is it that any criticism of America makes you a traitor, a hater, a terrorist sympathizer? The whole point of America is that we can criticize. The point is that we all have a say in what the country does. That means we all have blood on our hands. That means America’s crimes are my crimes and your crimes. That’s why people say things like “God damn America for killing innocent people.” Not because they want to fly a plane into a skyscraper, but because the country has gone off the rails and they want to get it back.
Think Reverend Wright is an America hater? Is he sending his congregation out to bomb federal buildings? The only newsmaker to come out of his church is trying to bridge gaps and erase the hate.
I can understand Wright’s sentiments. I’m taking this somewhat personally. Every time someone questions Obama’s patriotism based on this out-of-context quote by a former associate, I feel myself being questioned. I am outraged at what our country has become under L’il Bush. That makes me a hater? No. That makes me sane.

Try this, Rush and Anne and all your ilk. Imagine you have an uncle---let’s call him, ummm, Sam---who is well known as a pillar of the community. He helped you out as a kid, he gave your family a leg up, he worked hard to foster education and decent wages and did innumerable things to make your neighborhood one of the best places to live in the world. But now he’s hooked on meth. He’s stealing anything that’s not nailed down to feed his habit, his behavior is erratic and aggressive, his face is ravaged and unrecognizable. What do you do? Do you say, “He’s my uncle, he’s the greatest uncle in the world, we need to stay united and support my uncle” and let him destroy himself and the community? Or do you stage an intervention? Which course of action demonstrates real love and support? Which honors his contributions earlier in life?

I don’t even care about patriotism. I’ve never considered myself a patriot. Maybe I equate patriotism too much with nationalism, maybe I lack a real understanding of everything my country has done for me. What I do understand is that I have a say in what my country does, and I’ve been powerless to stop the worst foreign policy debacle in our history, and it drives me absolutely crazy. I understand that my country has become an aggressor, a torturer, a war criminal, despite my votes and donations and petitions and blogs and cartoons. And I want it to STOP.

If there was any doubt left, there isn’t anymore.
In his speech on Tuesday, Obama not only dives deep into the race issue with intelligence and generosity, he torpedoes the gross simplifications and de-contextualizations that have become standard practice for our politicians and our media.
We have GOT to elect this guy.
The video is long (37 min). The first 12 minutes or so are enough, but the whole thing is worth watching.

sent to The Oregonian today:

There’s the problem. David Reinhard spelled it out in black and white (Democrats for a Day, 3/16): "This is politics. What’s ethics got to do with it? When is it unethical to act in the best interest of the nation?" So that’s how Reinhard can continue to defend the Bush administration’s endless ethical lapses. Is that how the Republican party justifies swift-boating Democratic candidates, gerrymandering voting districts, and rushing disputed elections to a questionable close? Not to mention sacrificing soldiers’ lives and the nation’s economy to a pointless war? The president clearly feels he knows what’s best for everyone, despite the law, the Constitution, and common sense.
Democrats have trouble with ethics too, but I feel like Reinhard has hit upon a key difference here. Which party has been so self-righteous as to place it’s own people and their hairbrained schemes above the law?

I've said before, we'd be better off without political parties. Case in point; our current situation.

It occurred to me that without a Democratic nomination, we'd be in a three-way race that could well go to McCain. That's no good. But look at how many Republicans have big problems with McCain. If they weren't required to unite behind a candidate, Huckabee would still be in the race.

What if everyone who had run for nomination was still in it, all running against each other? Sure, it would be loud and confusing, but the race would go to whoever can appeal to the largest number of voters, not who can game the system.

Also, the protracted primary battle highlights the problematic nature of entrenched political parties. Take Michigan and Florida, demanding a say in the nomination after the party said their votes don't count. Now, obviously you can't deny anyone the right to vote for president, that'd be unconstitutional (Florida 2000 notwithstanding). But the Democratic party is a private organization that can set whatever rules it wants. Same with the Repubs. They are accountable to no one, yet they are now so entrenched they might as well be the 4th and 5th branches of government.

The scuttlebutt is, if the superdelegates select a candidate that did not win the majority of votes, it will be Florida 2000 all over again. Technically it won't be, because nobody's rights will be violated. Ultimately the decision belongs to the party, not the people. But, Democratic party higher-ups, come on. If you're going to pretend to be an official branch of government, don't abandon the pretense just to subvert the will of your supporters. Not only is that arrogant, it's stupid. It doesn't matter what the rules are, you'll wind up with a deflated, demoralized constituency, just when we need mobilization the most.

Yes, the subtext here is screaming "Obama." I never claimed to be objective.

Yay!
Last time I expressed an opinion here, I was pulling for Hillary. Now I’m swinging toward Barack. The suspense can be awful, but I’m glad it wasn’t all settled yesterday. This is just the kind of thing that has been sorely lacking for the last seven years; a nice, long, in-depth national discussion.

As long as the democratic fight says relatively clean, it can only be a good thing. The two candidates are highly similar in their policies, and over and over you hear democrats say they’d be happy with either one. Everyone is agonizing over whether to elect the first black president or the first female president – if one or the other was a white male, it’d be all over by now. That, and the stakes are too high to make a mistake. We have to reclaim the white house, boot out the neocons, save the soul of America. We have to choose the one who can win.

I think Obama can win. He’s energizing more voters, bringing in a new, younger constituency. If race and gender cancel out, Barack represents the stronger break from the past. The Hillary camp always cries inexperience, but I don’t see that as a problem. Energy and creativity go a long way. They cry lack of substance, but he’s got plans and policies just as detailed as Hillary’s.

Speaking as a clueless white male, I think sexism is a bigger problem than racism. A reporter can ask McCain how he is going to “beat the bitch,” and everyone laughs it off. If even a black journalist referred to Obama with a racial slur, there’d be a huge outcry. For that reason, I’d love to elect a woman. But Hillary would be up against a wave of irrational Clinton-hatred along with everything else. And all her vaunted years of experience have left her compromised. It’s tragic, really. It’s Michelle Kwan vs Sarah Hughes all over again, years of hard and honorable work being trumped by some flashy upstart. But let’s face it, the upstart delivers the goods, substance as well as style.

As I said last time, the next president will be under an endless barrage of yellow mud and petty prosecution from the right. Hillary knows how to dig in and withstand the information siege, but I don’t think that’s what we need, despite the sweet satisfaction the impotent paroxysms of hysterical Clinton-haters would bring. We need a leader who can get us past the poisonous tribal hatred that turns every policy decision into a game of gotcha.

In any case, it’s great to see so many people so invested in the process. The longer the primary race goes on, the more people participate, the worse it will go for the neocons. Li’l bush needed a close and muddled race to elbow his way in. This time around, let’s have an actual election.

No Memory Hole

Barack and Hillary are mostly playing it cool, from what I hear. They are keeping the debates amiable, keeping the attack ads at a civil tone. I’m glad.
Democrats can never compete with Republicans when it comes to mudslinging, and personally I wouldn’t want them to. I prefer a party that does not fight dirty.

Not to say the loyal opposition shouldn’t oppose. One reason the last eight years have been so soul-crushingly frustrating is how richly li’l bush and his cronies deserve to be dragged through their own muck. Bill Clinton spent his whole presidency dogged by petty jumped-up investigations, and li’l bush has stomped all over international law and the Constitution with impunity. I’m glad the Democrats haven’t wasted everyone’s time trying to indict li’l bush on drug and alcohol charges twenty years old; however, it would have been nice to address his real, impeachable offenses when there was still time to prevent some of the damage.

I digress. My point is this: the next president, whether it’s Hillary or Obama (any other alternative being too awful to contemplate) will be assaulted by Kenneth Starr shock troops the minute his or her hand hits the Bible. The next president will also be wading into the worst foreign policy disaster in modern history, not to mention a crippled economy and a raft of blinkered legislation. The ditto-head swift-boating bile-vomiting screech-howling right wing will waste no time in blaming every IED in Iraq on the new president.

Will the Democrats respond in kind? No. They will not call the screech-howlers on their lies. They will not point out that right wing think tanks are prepared to sacrifice all our lives for their tax-breaking dogma. They will not hurl the American Enterprise Institute’s filth back in their faces, no matter how much they deserve to choke on it. That’s our job.

There should be no place in politics for the second-grade level smears the Republicans have gotten so good at. So I’m hopeful that the Democrats won’t resort to such tactics. But that means the rest of us have a responsibility to fight the smears.

Remember! Remember who got us into this mess. Remember and hold them accountable. Let’s put li’l bush and Cheney in jail. Let’s drown out Limbaugh and Coulter with FACTS. Let’s stand up for a president who is sure to face cheap, dirty attacks on his or her person that have no bearing whatsoever on the ability to govern.

This isn’t over. It will not be over in November. It will not be over in January. The neocons are deeply entrenched and will continue to push their shit on us. The president has a duty to rise above, but you and me? I say we give them no quarter. Because they sure won’t give it to us.

I’m just spilling here, spoilers likely.
Way back in May of last year (have I been writing this blog for that long?? Ye gods!) I said I’d have more to say about the finale of the third season of Lost. Now we’re 4 episodes into the fourth season, halfway through what the writers’ strike has left us for this year. How can it go by so fast? I know more episodes are coming, but who knows when? How can we already be halfway to the next excruciating hiatus?

Lost just gets better and better. Season 1 was original, spellbinding, tantalizing, surprising, if clumsy in places (Charlie’s brother telling him “you’ll never take care of anyone again!” was a bit Motivation for Dummies). The first minutes of Season 2 gave us a rush of new information that only raised more questions than it answered, and then continued piling it on in every episode. Season 3 got aggravating- too many filler episodes that didn’t move things along or give us any answers at all. I really enjoyed the episode about the two peripheral survivors, but for the first half of the season I felt like the writers were just stringing us along for no good reason. However, in its second half, season 3 redeemed itself. The last two episodes alone were worth the wait. Jack pushed beyond the breaking point, Sawyer hollowed out by achieving revenge, Locke becoming the new Ben, Hurly and Charlie discovering their own heroism…Charlie’s story was particularly moving, even after weeks and weeks of Desmond prophesying his death.

But the real stroke of genius in the finale was the flip from flashbacks to flashforwards! And making it look like a flashback until the end!! Holy geez!!! It will be a beautiful symmetry if the first three seasons looking backward are followed by 3 seasons that look forward. Last week we got some flashbacks again, so at best it’s already a flawed structural mirroring, but that’s ok. The mere fact that we know some of them will leave the island, that we’re seeing them back in the world, turns the show’s whole premise on its head. And in the midst of this innovative formalist conceit, the weight is kept where it belongs; on the story, the characters. Back in the world, Jack is more lost than ever. Hurly too. And Sayid. Kate seems pretty together, but we still know nothing about her situation.

Season 4 has none of the artificial holding back that plagued season 3. The first episode didn’t give us a lot, but definitely threw a few bones. The last couple episodes have dumped huge amounts of info, but like season 2, it tends to only raise more questions. How can they possibly keep this up for 3 more seasons?? If they can, it will be a towering achievement. Even if they can’t maintain the same level of tense mystery, Lost has a long way to fall before being on par with any other network show.

I hope they do keep it up. I bet they can. The power of Lost is in what they choose not to show. They never spelled out the history of the Dharma Initiative- I left season 3 feeling like there is more knowledge to be had, but it’s been rendered irrelevant. Things have changed on the island, the balance of power has shifted. The brief, limited look we had inside the DI is all we’re gonna get, and ultimately, all we need. The flashbacks have given us partial pictures of the characters’ pasts, but it’s enough. Rather than fill in all the details that are already present by implication, the narrative leaps into territory we cannot predict. Take heed, Terminator the Sarah Connor Chronicles! (Which has been disappointing. More on that later, maybe.)

op 5 Giant Monster Movies of All Time (beware, spoilers)

1. Cloverfield (2008). Cool monster, glorious destruction, shocking urban mayhem, surprising plot twists, all driven by a human drama you actually care about. Like the original Godzilla that started it all, Cloverfield draws on the experience of true catastrophe; the huge dust cloud racing down the street is unmistakable. Takes the Blair Witch technique to a new level, ingeniously exploiting the limited viewpoint to keep the giant monster mysterious and scary. And speaking of scary: the sound the smaller creatures make is just about the creepiest thing I've ever heard.
2. The Host (2006). Another cool monster, not quite like any we've seen before. Another credible and engaging human drama driving the story. Surprising twists and deeply felt themes. The monster's first appearance is glorious, capturing a sense of upended reality. It looks a little unreal in some shots, but the effects are far superior to any Godzilla film.
3. King Kong (2005). Yes, that's right beehatches, Peter Jackson's King Kong! It is not too long!! Every scene contributes something vital! Plus, King Kong is a monster you sympathize with, rather than a straight horror vehicle. And he may not destroy any cities, but he does battle other monsters, which is the pinnacle of the genre! (How about it, J.J. Abrams? Cloverfield vs Mecha-Cloverfield?)
4. Gamera, Guardian of the Universe (1995). If you're not a daikaiju fan, you won't like any of the Japanese suitmation movies. But if you can accept the general look and feel, this is the best of them all. Mixes in some up-to-date effects for good battle scenes, and the plot is more or less solid throughout. The idea that Gamera is an artificial being from ancient Atlantis is just about the only believable explanation for those jets.
5. Godzilla vs Destorayah (1995). Despite the typical pitfalls of bad acting, ludicrous dialog, and questionable special effects, the nuclear-meltdown death of Godzilla is…dare I say? I dare. Moving.

Bonus: 6. War of the Worlds (2005). Was on ABC the other night, first time I'd seen it since it was in theaters. I don't know if Spielberg conceived it as a giant monster movie, but the tripods sure as hell fit the bill, recalling all the zap-gun glory of 50s sci-fi without being the least bit campy. The transition from rational curiosity to sheer animal terror when the monster first appears is not quite as riveting as in Cloverfield or The Host, but still brilliant.

And I've said it before, but while we're here; the worst monster movie of all time is…. "Godzilla" (1998), Roland Enema's disastrous bastardization. If you don't respect the source material, come up with your own damn story.

It went well.
My test lasted a full hour, which I should have expected, but didn't. It felt much shorter. I made a few mistakes. Sensei corrected me once, on getting into position for tanto dori, knife at the throat from behind ("don't turn your back on him, he'll get behind you"). I backed into ushiro a couple of times during jiyu waza ("freestyle"), which a senior student had admonished me not to do the previous Saturday. Aside from that, I was happy with my performance.

I got lots of positive comments on management of energy. All that conditioning training paid off. Before we began, Sensei said nervousness is just energy; use it. I took that to heart and tried to keep my nervous energy contained and focused. It worked; halfway through I felt I would explode with heat, while spectators in the dojo (I heard later) were freezing cold.

Other comments: I increased my movement and use of the space for rondori (multiple attackers). I didn't rush the techniques. I maintained composure throughout. Sensei felt I had worked hard to correct all the things he and others had advised me about in the previous weeks. I know I let a couple of my kote gaeshis collapse inward, but for most of them I kept uke stretched out. Something to keep working on. On the whole, I felt much more in command of the techniques than normal.

Now the real training begins….

P.S. Today I'm making stew with organic, free-range beef.

Your results:
You are Mr. Freeze

Mr. Freeze 73% The Joker 62% Dark Phoenix 56% Dr. Doom 54% Venom 53% Lex Luthor 51% Apocalypse 46% Juggernaut 46% Poison Ivy 45% Riddler 45% Magneto 42% Two-Face 42% Mystique 38% Catwoman 35% Green Goblin 34% Kingpin 20%

You are cold and you think everyone else should be also, literally.

Click here to take the "Which Super Villain are you?" quiz...

I test on Friday.
Saturday we had a mock-test, a trial run. I remembered everything. I struggled a little with the ushiro variations, but I came up with enough. Koshi nages and tanto doris were surprisingly smooth. I got specific corrections on kote gaeshi and juje nage which lead to some clean-up with ushiro. I worked on those things yesterday with Cody, hopefully will get a chance to work on them some more tonight. I’m doing 100 rolls consistently at practice. I never want to do it, I always dread it, but I can do it.
Only three more training days before my test. I’d like to have two more weeks, but then of course I’d have to keep it up for two more weeks. And there would only be more corrections, that’s how it works.
The date is set. The die is cast. There’s no going back.
I often think about climbing Mera Peak, in the Himalayas, back when I was 18. Summit day, I trudged up the glacier, thinking with every step, “This is my last step. I can’t possibly take another step. I’m going to stop right here.” And then of course I took another step. It helped that I was roped to my dad and he was up above me, not stopping. No one is roped to me now, but the whole dojo is committed to my success.
I know I can do it. I want to do it well. I’m not going to do it as well as I want to, that’s just a fact. I’m not as talented as Mike or Glenn or Joe. I’m going to blow it on something, but I’ll do it again and it will be okay.
The trick is to stay positive. It’s not necessarily a question of pushing through exhaustion (although there is some of that), it’s more pushing through the anxiety, the fear, the uncertainty. Focus on the moment. Do I have what I need to get through this moment? Yes I do. Stay in that place. Keep the positive energy pouring out.
It’s almost time.

I did 110 rolls!
I had not cracked 90. I’d been thinking, if I can get to 90, I can get to 100.
110!
I can do this.

I bought meat today.

Beef. For stew. I was at the store, I wanted to make Marcie something for dinner that wasn’t based on rice or noodles, because that’s all we’ve been eating lately.

I never buy beef. I don’t eat beef. I don’t believe in the factory farms that raise and tend cows like they were car parts. I looked for buffalo or lamb from some decent local farm, but they don’t have such things at Winco. And so rather than make another trip to another store, I took the quick and easy path. That’s no way to be a black belt.

Of course, I make no distinction about chicken, turkey, or eggs. Which is ironic, because what started me on this whole thing was the scene in Baraka when the chicks get their beaks branded. I was vegetarian for most of 1994. Well, a chemotarian; I pretty much lived on Doritos and Mountain Dew. Clearly that’s not a sustainable lifestyle. I was too lazy to be a real vegetarian, and I was dating a committed carnivore, so I relented on birds and fish and pigs and goats before long.

But I never went back to beef. If I’m a guest somewhere and they serve me some, I don’t make a scene. If I’m at a McMenamin’s that uses local, humanely-raised beef, I might get a hamburger. Beyond that, I won’t participate in the beef industry. It’s the one concession I haven’t made in my long slow slide from college weirdo to working class schmo.

So today I buy a friggin pound and a half of mass-produced cow chunks?? Not good. Sliding too far.

What I really ought to do is work harder, make more money, so we can switch entirely to local organic food critters. I have no problem with eating animals. We are part of an ecosystem that includes predators and prey. But I do believe that animals can feel misery, and the least that we owe them before we kill and eat them is a comfortable life and a little respect. Fortunately there are independent farmers and ranchers raising livestock with respect and care. So why am I not shelling out the few extra dollars for chickens that weren’t hatched onto a conveyor belt into nonstop suffering? I have no excuse. Here I am, not living the change. Again, not a black belt.

On the plus side, I did something else today counter to my desire, which I believe was the right choice. I cancelled a 24 hour comic session that was to be held at our house this weekend. I love doing 24 hour comics, and I really wanted to invite some artists over and entertain them and have a good time, but to do it now is just crazy. The animation studio that had promised me a lot of work starting in February is actually starting the project already, and they want me to get cracking. Also, our house has decided to start falling apart, and it wouldn’t be very cool to be laughing it up drawing comics while Marcie is fixing the pipes. Plus, hello, I’m supposed to be training as hard and as often as I can this month. I can’t sacrifice a whole weekend.

I consider 24 hour comics a kind of training, a kind of practice in pushing past barriers, but it’s not the kind of training I need right now. There are very specific moves I need to be practicing. I hate for my artist friends to see me as a flake, but in this case it’s the price that must be paid.

I’m testing on February 1st. I keep thinking that if I’m not ready we’ll push the date back, but that’s not how it works. The way it works is, we set a date and I get ready by then, whatever it takes. It seems impossible. One month to transform my technique from uncertainty to clarity? One month to know when to extend and when to receive? One month to relax my shoulders, to get comfortable on that razor line away from getting hit, to have good solid posture and balance, to move gracefully on my knees? There’s no way.

I’m not good at being under pressure. I keep finding ways out of it. Like, they say you grow into a rank after you earn it. So if I’m not quite there at my test, it’ll be okay. But that attitude doesn’t help me. The pressure is important, necessary for the kind of transformation I want to achieve. Nobody ever changed their nature without pressure.
This test is not just about me. My sensei has to sign off on it, and his sensei (Frank Doran) as well. I know, it sounds all Return of the Dragon; the honor of my master is at stake! But it’s true.

My sensei once said about training while you’re exhausted, focus on the moment. Don’t worry about if you can get up in ten minutes; can you get up now? Chances are you can. That’s a difficult mindset to maintain, but it seems like good advice for this whole process. I can’t imagine achieving what I need to achieve in the next four weeks, but I can go to class and train hard on the intervening days.

I’m always kind of irritated when people talk about personal issues and say “I’m working on it.” Work on it by doing it. If you want to change your behavior, change it. If you can’t change it, you’re not really committed to changing. Practice the change until it becomes habitual. Changing one’s nature is, in one sense, an incredibly hard and long process. In another sense, it happens instantaneously. You don’t build up to being more forgiving or more courageous or more decisive. When the time comes to act, you act, either in the same old way or in a new way.

That’s how I’m looking at training. Practice like a black belt, fully committed, and eventually it will become habitual. By February 1st? Hard to believe. It’s probably best not to think about that, but just train as hard as I can as much as I can in the meantime.

Marcie caught a cold over a week ago and is still coughing. A few days in she ran a fever and lost her voice. People at work have told her of a bug going around that takes 2 or 3 weeks to get over.
I caught her cold Sunday night. So far I'm not doing too bad. I'm coughing a little bit this morning, but apart from a sore throat I've felt pretty good the last couple of days. I'm hoping against hope that we can both get over it by Monday, when our Christmas guests arrive: Marin, Steve, Mary, and most likely two kittens. Then at dawn on New Year's Day I'll be jumping into a chilly river with my dojo. Not something you look forward to when sick.
My training will be interrupted by the holidays anyway, with the dojo closing up next week. Still I'm not thrilled about having to miss training this week. I was too sick to go Monday night, I went on Tuesday but took it real easy, and I'm going today but will have to take it easy again. All this after sensei telling me on Saturday it's time to turn up the heat. However, he's happy with my progress, previous post notwithstanding. I may actually pull it off. It seems crazy to think I could get my black belt in a month, but it will probably always seem crazy until 6 months after I test.

I figured I would post regular updates of my progress toward shodan, but it turns out to be really difficult to write about. Probably because this isn’t one of those confessional baring-of-soul type blogs. It’s so much easier to rant about bad TV.

I’m told preparing for shodan brings you face to face with your baggage. I thought I understood that as a concept, but now it’s happening and it’s harder than I thought it would be. I thought what I’d have to contend with was laziness. I thought I would just have to find the will to do 100 rolls, to train hard for an hour or more. But what I’m really up against is my own cowardice.

I hate admitting to be a coward. I hate admitting it to myself and to whoever reads this. But it’s the truth and there’s no getting around it.

Exhibit A: I was riding the bus, I guess this was a few months ago now. A young Latina woman was talking on her cell phone in Spanish. I was sitting right across the aisle from her, near the front. The driver was grumbling, finally pulled the bus over and told her, very aggressively, that she couldn’t talk on the phone because it was distracting him. He was totally out of line. It wasn’t exactly a Rosa Parks moment, but I’m the one who always says the anti-immigrant xenophobes need to get a grip. Suddenly here I was face to face with one in full xenophobic nasty mode, and I sat there like a lump of seaweed. I could have just told the guy to take it easy, I could have pulled out my cell phone and called somebody (like the Tri-Met office for example) but I was scared. Someone in the back piped up and told the driver he was being an idiot, but not me or anyone else.
I hate being scared. I hate the memory of that bus ride. I hate lacking the courage of my convictions. I hate being part of the silent apathetic majority.

There are other instances which I may go into later. I used to wonder, what would I do in a crisis? Would I make the right split-second decision? Would I enter, blend, throw and pin? No. I would sit there like a lump of seaweed.

I can’t get my black belt this way. It shows in my technique. I move too far from the attacker, I compromise my posture trying to avoid the strike, I cede control of the situation. My techniques are not sharp enough, not clear enough, not assertive enough.

I believe it is possible to change one’s nature. I just don’t know if I can do it in the next couple of months.