146/365: Tenuiloba foliage

Today I'm sharing the foliage of passiflora tenuiloba. This one's native to Texas, with a range starting in the Hill Country and extending west and south to more semi-arid regions. It doesn't have flashy flowers, being a small decaloba-type, but I find the foliage fascinating. It's informal name is "bird-winged passion flower," which is self-explanatory. I don't know of many other passiflora species with as elaborate a leaf form. One problem with this plant is that the stems are so thin that I haven't had any luck rooting cuttings from it, which frustrates me to no end, I assure you.

And here's a second view of some younger leaves. Note they start out with less pronounced lobes like other passis, but extend as the leaf grows and matures.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macro
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Friday Night Videos

Abadabadango was the second single of Kim Carnes' "Barking at Airplanes" album. Unlike the first single, Crazy in the Night, it didn't chart. This baffled me at the time and baffles me still, as the song is a perfect example of the bright, energetic dance pop so popular on the charts at the time. I figure record stores and radio stations simply couldn't figure out how to spell the song's bizarre title, which in all honesty, sounds like a rejected Fred Flintstone catchphrase. The rare video is cool, though, with high contrast black and white halation giving it an artsy vibe, and who can argue with that vintage 80s saxophone solo?

Previously on Friday Night Videos... Sheena Easton.

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145/365: Work-In-Progress

Not a terribly sexy photo for today's 365 installment, but it is a timely one. This is a glimpse of the current work-in-progress I've been hinting at (Chicken Ranch). Hopefully I'll have more substantive information to share next week.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Tamron 28-75mm 2.8
Lisa On Location

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144/365: Baby chameleon

Yes, I know they're technically green anoles, but I grew up calling them chameleons and still do to this day. Hard to argue with their color changes!

I first saw this little guy last week, hanging out in a potted plant on the front porch. He's a tiny hatchling, barely more than an inch long--I don't think I've ever seen one this small. He's wary, though, vanishing before I've been able to get my camera. Last night, however, I found him sleeping on a leaf, oblivious to my spying. I was able to get several shots before the confused guy woke up fully, then shut off all the lights and let him go back to sleep. Our bushes and thick passion vines around the house are a haven for the little lizards (there's an adult male displaying his red throat outside my window right now) and I like having them around. They remind me of my childhood, when I used to catch them for fun. It's amazing how large a moth these little guys can eat!

This bonus shot shows how sleepy he was. I've gotten this same exact look from The Wife some mornings...

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macro
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143/365: Caerulea

And here we have a seed from quite possibly the most wide-spread passion flower in the world, caerulea. The seed's a bit smaller than that of incarnata, and not quite so dramatic in its surface texture. This is a seed from last year, stored in my refrigerator in a packet of moist sand. I suspect if I get some fresh seed this year I'll re-shoot it, as tiny sand grains wedged themselves into little nooks on the seed so that I couldn't brush it clean. Note to self: Fresh seeds photograph better than stored seeds.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macros with Vivitar 2x telextender
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142/365: Incarnata seed II

I photographed the seed of passiflora incarnata earlier, for my film photography class, but I used a mottled gray background for that image and wasn't entirely happy with the contrast. So I've re-shot the species for consistency's sake. I like the contrast in this version much better.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macros with Vivitar 2x telextender
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141/365: Inspiration seed

Inspiration is my next subject in my passiflora seed series, but it's not from the Passiflora Society International seed sale. This one is from my personal stock. Inspiration is a tetraploid hybrid, similar to the common p. Incense hybrid, but slightly larger with deeper violet flowers that reflex more. There are other subtle differences as well, along with one big one--Inspiration is self-fertile, whereas Incense fruits with reluctance. Seeds of Inspiration generally follow the classic, common passiflora seed form, but are significantly larger--half again to twice the size of a regular incarnata seed. It also has more red pigmentation than other seeds I've photographed, which is curious.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macros with Vivitar 2x telextender
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140/365: Herbertiana seed

Herbertiana is my next subject from the Passiflora Society International seed sale. Like p. aurantia, this is an Australian species, once of the few passiflora native to the "Old World." And like aurantia, herbertiana is among the smallest passiflora seeds I've worked with. It's slightly larger than aurantia, but not by much.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macros with Vivitar 2x telextender
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139/365: Aurantia seed

Aurantia is my next subject from the Passiflora Society International seed sale. This is an Australian species, once of the few passiflora native to the "Old World." A few years ago I bought some seed on Ebay, but they never germinated. Hopefully, I'll have more success with this one.

One other thing--these macro seed photos aren't to scale with one another. Their size varies widely, but I try to "fill the frame" as much as possible to reveal the maximum amount of detail. Aurantia is the smallest seed I've worked with yet--it's actually smaller than the head of a pin. I know, because I Photoshopped out the silver crescent of the pin head I'd mounted it to. Amazing something so small can grow into such impressive vines.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macros with Vivitar 2x telextender
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Friday Night Videos

Just realized I haven't indulged my guilty pleasure of Sheena Easton in far too long. "Strut" was a huge hit for her, and revitalized her career for a while, briefly making her a Thing. This marks a sharp break from her earlier career, for the first time playing up a sexy image while simultaneously trying to not be Scottish anymore. Sadly, it was all downhill after this, as she decided to direct her career and music towards techno/dance audiences. Which is a weird career move, as Sheena really couldn't dance. At all. No rhythm. Her later dance mix videos are almost painful to watch as she abuses even the most simplistic choreography. Ah well, nothing lasts forever. I can still enjoy her Europop catalog...

Previously on Friday Night Videos... Night Ranger.

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138/365: Bogotensis seed

Bogotensis is my next subject from the Passiflora Society International seed sale. Again, I've never attempted to grow passiflora bogotensis before. It's a decaloba, which I like, and fairly rare, which I also like. However, it is reputed to dislike high temperatures, which means I'll have to keep it indoors throughout the summer lest it suffer the fate of the unfortunate tasconias I've attempted to grow. This might be the oddest seed form I've come across yet.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macros with Vivitar 2x telextender
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137/365: Umbilicata seed

Umbilicata is my next subject from the Passiflora Society International seed sale. Again, I've never attempted to grow passiflora umbilicata before. This particular species has a more traditional appearance to its seeds, at least in comparison to the commonly cultivated species such as incarnata, eulis etc.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macros with Vivitar 2x telextender
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136/365: Morifolia seed

Here's another subject from the Passiflora Society International seed sale. Passiflora morifolia is another species I've never attempted growing before. I'm exceptionally accomplished at killing passiflora, but I'd much prefer developing my cultivation skills. Compare this seed with the previous image of the serratifolia seed and you can clearly see the dramatic morphological differences present.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macros with Vivitar 2x telextender
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135/365: Serratifolia seed

So, I hang out online with a bunch of other passion flower enthusiasts who are members of the Passiflora Society International. The group recently had a seed sale, and I picked up several packages of seed from a variety of species. Naturally, before I planted them I decided to take some high-magnification macro photos of the seeds. Passiflora are known for their dramatic variation, and guess what? The same can be said for their seeds. This is the seed of passiflora serratifolia, a type I've never grown before. This seed has the most dramatic projectile-point shape I've ever seen, outside of an actual projectile point.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macros with Vivitar 2x telextender
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134/365: Fruit press

So, The Wife got me a Ferrari fruit press for Christmas. Yes, I'm a little late acknowledging it, but it's an awesome fruit press, stainless steel and the perfect size for my needs. I didn't get to use it right away because of my ill-conceived foray back into collegiate coursework last semester, but once that was out of the way I broke it out in a big way. Last fall my moonglow pear tree produced a lot of sweet and flavorful pears, but most were too small to bother with eating. So I froze them to break down their cells and then sent them to the fruit press. Crushing and juicing four gallons worth of pears isn't terribly easy, but when you're single-minded obsessive like I can be, it is rewarding.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Tamron 28-75mm 2.8

And here's the result. Four gallons of whole pears isn't terribly juicy--I ultimately got half a gallon of juice. But that was enough to blend with some racked mead to make a kind of perry melomel. These pears aren't actual perry pears with high tannins, acid and tartness, but they do have good flavor so we'll see what develops. I didn't use a strainer bag when pressing them, so some particulates made it into the juice. Still, that's some pretty looking liquid, isn't it?

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Tamron 28-75mm 2.8
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133/365: Rind

sigh. At the rate I'm going, it'll take me two years to post all my 365 photos. Taking images isn't a problem--processing to an acceptable standard, them uploading and blogging about them are proving to demand more time than I have available. But I'm still trying!

As I've said before, I'm a passion flower fan, and love passion fruit of all types. The fruit themselves are almost as alien as the flowers. Here's the inside of the rind from a passiflora edulis fruit--the commercial purple variety. The pulpy arils that envelop the seeds grow from puckered swellings lining the inside of the rind in a trio of vertical strips. There's something otherworldly about this. Can you tell I'm fascinated by this plant?

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macro
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Man of Steel, feet of clay

So, I went to see Man of Steel with Bug and The Wife yesterday for Father's Day. Anyone keeping score at home knows that I went into the film with wary optimism. I had major misgivings about director Zack Snyder, but was willing to give him a chance despite the so-so quality of Watchmen and the wretched excess of Sucker Punch.

So, the verdict? To be honest, I'm still struggling with it. Man of Steel is, clearly, Zack Snyder's best movie. By far. It's also a better movie than Superman III, Superman IV: The Quest for Peace and Superman Returns. It was full of great spectacle and epic danger and full-on super-powered Kryptonian-on-Kryptonian fisticuffs we all went nuts for in Superman II (although those battles remain far more dynamic in memory than on repeated rewatches). I found the film thoroughly entertaining.

But when I left the theater, I realized I didn't "like" Man of Steel. I didn't hate it, but felt ambivalent and conflicted. Snyder, see, paid slavish attention to getting a lot of little details right, but misfires at a couple of crucial points that undermine the entire film for me. Mark Finn had a similar reaction, although I disagree strongly with him about his ultimate conclusion. And the great Mark Waid weighs in as well. Although these folks (and others) are far more eloquent in expressing their issues with the movie than I, the internet being what it is, here is my 2¢ worth (along with a truckload of spoilers, so beware).

This version of Superman is simply the most aloof and self-involved of any version of the character seen, period. The younger versions of Clark Kent, seen growing up in flashbacks, come across as sympathetic, well-rounded characters who are struggling with the onset of uncontrolled super powers in addition to the trauma of adolescence and puberty. There's clearly an instinctive drive to help and protect people, to do what he can, but here we hit our first false note. In an apparent attempt to differentiate Snyder's version from Richard Donner's original film, the roles of Jor-El and Pa Kent have been swapped. In the original, Jor-El forbade Superman from using his powers to "interfere" with human history, while Pa Kent urged Clark to involve himself in the world and make a positive difference. In this version, Jor-El urges Clark to become a beacon of hope, lead by example and save people, whereas Pa Kent is... well, pretty much a dick. He rides Clark pretty hard about keeping his powers secret, even if it means letting people die. And Pa Kent's death in a tornado, that Clark lets happen just because Pa told him to, that's not pathos, that's just plain stupid. That's called an idiot plot, in which the plot only moves forward because everyone involved act like idiots. In the comics, and every other dramatic interpretation of the character, Pa Kent dies from a disease/illness that Superman's powers are helpless against. It's a major dose of humility to the emerging super-hero, purging any nascent hubris from his system. Apparently, the need to differentiate THIS version of Superman from all those others was so great that guilt is an acceptable substitute for humility. Look, if they'd wanted a huge tornado set-piece in the film, fine. Simply have Clark--true to character--rescue Pa from the storm in defiance of his dad, and then have Pa die from a heart attack brought on from the stress of the situation. But screenwriter David Goyer is paid the big bucks to come up with these "clever" twists, so what do I know?

Backtracking a bit, even though Snyder's film takes pains to differentiate itself from the Donner film, it makes odd choices here and there that seem designed specifically to bring to mind the earlier movie. For instance, when a school bus carrying Clark and his classmates runs off a bridge into a deep river, it immediately brought to mind the endangered school bus from the finale of Superman: The Movie. It is implied in subsequent scenes that both Pete Ross and Lana Lang piece together Clark's secret afterward, which would make for a nice character arc, but the movie shows no interaction amongst these characters the rest of the way, instead, they stay silent for the most part, all isolated from each other by choice. I found this particularly disappointing with Pete Ross, as he's brought back later in the film but given nothing to do. Echoes of earlier films also come up with a thuggish trucker challenging Clark to a fight in a roadside diner (I could be wrong, but to my ears it sounds like he doesn't even call "Ma" and "Pa" Ma and Pa, which is an unfortunate break from the rural, folksy roots of the character).

From this point on, the social isolation of Clark undoes Superman for me. Henry Cavill cuts a great Superman figure, but he plays the character so stoically, so emotionally distant and deadpan that I never feel a connection with him. I'm never really rooting for him, because there's nothing there to root for. Part of this is because Cavill's Superman doesn't have very many lines in the script--I'll wager that if you count them up in the script, his younger flashback selves have more total dialogue. The adult Clark is the silent loner, moving from odd job to odd job, saving people occasionally, but never making any friends. This echoes the abortive Tim Burton Superman movie from a decade ago, and while "Superman the outsider" can work, I'll argue it doesn't here because we never see why this powerful guy who goes out of his way to hold humanity at arm's length would want to help out anyone. Early on, it seems like he views saving people as an unwelcome obligation, an inconvenient burden he derives no pleasure from, no sense of accomplishment. The more I think of it, the more it reminds me of Will Smith's character in the wretched Hancock movie, but earlier on in that character's career, before he descended entirely into not-giving-a-shit.

This comes into play as soon as General Zod and the escaped Phantom Zone Kryptonians arrive at Earth and demand "The son of Jor-El" turn himself over to them. Clark turns himself over to the humans--who don't trust him--who in turn give him to Zod. This is a bleak and dark part of the movie, and seems to confirm all the negative warnings from Pa Kent earlier. Humans don't trust Superman, but to be fair, he's given them absolutely no reason to trust him whatsoever. Then, when Superman and the villainous Kryptonians fight--first in Smallville, then in Metropolis (at least, I assume it's Metropolis, although the city is never named in the film)--Superman shows absolutely zero concern for the thousands of people being killed as "collateral damage" as the super-powered beings essentially throw skyscrapers at each other. The 9-11 imagery is overt and wielded with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and I've seen it referred to in several places online as Snyder's "disaster porn." That's an apt description. It's dazzling on-screen and brings the "wow!" but as we left the theater, The Wife (who is not a comics geek) said, "That was just wrong. Superman didn't care about any of the people killed in the fight, but suddenly cared about that last family at the end? The real Superman would've taken the fight away from the city, to protect the people." And that's the core of the problem. Superman doesn't give a shit. In Superman II, even when Clark's getting his head handed to him by Zod, Ursa and Nod, he cries out "The people!" as innocents in jeopardy truly anguish him. Faora mocks Superman during their battle in Man of Steel by claiming his compassion is a weakness, which only brings to mind Zod from Superman II again: "This super-man is nothing of the kind. I have found his weakness. He cares for these humans." Even Brandon Routh's Superman from director Bryan Singer's wildly uneven Superman Returns places a priority on his role of protector, for even as he's rushing off to confront one disaster, he uses his heat vision to vaporize a rain of jagged glass falling from a skyscraper, thus saving dozens of people below. That's why it rings so hollow when Superman snaps Zod's neck to save one cowering family at the end of the movie. Superman hadn't shown one iota of concern for people before, but now his compassion drives him to kill? That's a false note. A very false note.

Let me be clear--Superman killing General Zod, in and of itself, is not a non-starter for me. During John Burne's run on Superman comics in the 80s, he actually had Superman execute three evil Phantom Zone Kryptonians in the "Pocket Universe Saga." This was a Big Deal. If you'll allow me to get my comic book geek on, the Pocket Universe was a fragment of the Pre-Crisis DC Multiverse, meaning that General Zod & co. were exponentially more powerful than the current Superman. They beat the snot out of him. What's more, they killed all five billion people on Earth just for the hell of it and promised to do the same to Superman's Earth. Superman and seen and lived their carnage over the span of several issues of the comic, and knew that he was physically incapable of stopping them, knew that the combined might of all the other heroes on Earth would be incapable as well. So he executed them with Kryptonite, and the consequences of his actions were so personally devastating to him that it took the better part of a year for him to come to terms with it. In Man of Steel he snaps Zod's neck, screams in anguish, then happily tells a general not to follow him with drones before getting a job at the Daily Planet and flirting with Lois Lane. WTF? Talk about lack of consequences.

And Zod's neck snap illustrates a more subtle problem I have with the movie overall. It's crude. It's crass. It's thuggish. It lacks subtlety (although I will allow it is Snyder's most subtle movie thus far) but more importantly, it lack cleverness. The big, jaw-dropping fight scenes between Superman and Zod, or Superman and Faora, are nothing more than brawls for all their elaborate special effects. There's a little bit of "Kryptonian kung-fu," which shows me that they cribbed at least a little bit from J.J. Abrams' unproduced Superman script, but beyond that, their lack of imagination is staggering. There's no trickery here, no out-thinking opponents, no using a handy mirror to reflect Zod's heat vision back at him. The entire battle consists of punch, punch harder, and if that doesn't work, punch harder still. This lack of wit extends to dialogue. The first two movies are infinitely quotable, with "Kneel before Zod!" still capable of bringing the goosebumps. Here... I'm still racking my brain, trying to remember a single line of quotable dialogue not from the trailers. Not from Amy Adams, not from Diane Lane, Kevin Costner, Lawrence Fishburne or Michael Shannon. That's a lot of great actors without anything meaningful to say.

Which is a shame, because Snyder does get some things very, very right. The opening on Krypton, and the interaction between Jor-El and General Zod is fantastic. Lara, Superman's birth mother, is given more significant face time in this movie, as is Ma Kent. General Zod and his other Phantom Zone exiles benefit the most from the reboot of the film series, gaining understandable motivations for their actions, beyond the simple mustache-twirling villainy of earlier films. The absence of Lex Luthor is a wise move, although the destruction of a LexCorp tanker truck hints that Superman's greatest rival is ready to make an appearance in the next film. They lifted some nice visual cues and nifty Kryptonian elements from John Byrne's Man of Steel series, which I appreciate. The dead Kryptonian colonial worlds were a wonderful detail that added scope to the universe, and the Krypotonian terraforming machine is pretty damn impressive. And Henry Cavill looks more like Superman than probably any other incarnation of the character.

But for all that, this is probably the least intelligent, most joyless version of Superman ever committed to the big screen. At no point did I get a triumphant feeling from the film, a sense of wonder, an uplifted feeling of good winning the day. Folks saying Man of Steel should be nominated for an Oscar should have their heads examined. Folks comparing it favorably to The Avengers should realize that while the destructive spectacles are indeed similar--and Man of Steel might actually win out for the volume of skyscrapers trashed--The Avengers, first and foremost, concentrated on the characters first. Can you have a good Superman movie without Superman? Man of Steel seems intent on answering that question, for good or ill.

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132/365: Cornfield

A cornfield growing outside of San Marcos. The semi-wet spring has been good for crops in the area.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon EF-S 10-22mm
Lisa On Location

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Friday Night Videos

Okay, Night Ranger is one of the infamous '80s hair bands that played a big role in the soundtrack of my teenage years. Their songwriting was wildly uneven, but when Jack Blades & Co. hit a groove, they produced really solid music. "7 Wishes" is arguably their strongest album--it certainly produced the most hits, with "Sentimental Street" (which I consider their best song by far), and "Goodbye" (which I consider their most sentimental, by far) but I've always had a soft spot for "Four in the Morning." Something about this rocker clicks, and conveys more angst and emotion than similar tunes of the era. But the real reason I'm featuring it today is the gonzo nuts video that goes with it. Seriously--some marketing genius decided it'd be brilliant to combine the World War II era bomber crew of the cover art (the plane's name is "7 Wishes" as I recall) with a literal representation of wishes in the form of a magic Aladdin lamp. Then things get really weird with the introduction of futuristic alien space genie babes and and a science fiction rock concert of the future in which all the excess of '80s fashion train wrecks are turned up to 11. And just because they had some budget left over at the end, they threw in a camel. Why? I don't know. Maybe the lamp belongs to him.

It goes without saying they don't make 'em like this anymore.

Previously on Friday Night Videos... Billy Joel.

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131/365: Yellow Rose

Made a quick visit to the San Marcos airport today to get a few shots of some of the World War II era warbirds they maintain and fly there. The Commemorative Air Force (formerly known as the Confederate Air Force) does a great thing, preserving these pieces of history. This B-25 is even available for the general public to buy flights on, although it'll set you back nearly $400 to experience that bit of history up close.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon EF-S 10-22mm
Lisa On Location

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Wither Superman?

So, the new Superman movie, Man of Steel, opens tomorrow with midnight showings. Sometime this weekend I'll be packing up the family and going to see it. Not, I must admit, without significant trepidation. The fact that Zack Snyder is the director fills me with dread. I've been accused of being overly negative, like I want the film to be bad. Nothing could be further from the truth. I want Superman to be great. In the history of this character, we've gotten two pretty good, albeit flawed, movies, two downright awful ones, and one that had moments of greatness lost amid a turgid morass of awkward tone and ill-fitting angst. So I want Man of Steel to be great, but I'm not expecting it to be, despite some early rave reviews from various corners of internets. Why? Zack Snyder.

I base my skepticism on Snyder's track record. Watchmen, which also garnered a lot of early internet buzz, is what I consider his best film. Yet despite this, I found the movie surprisingly cold and aloof, going through the motions without any heart or passion. The opening title sequence was brilliant, I'll grant you, but the rest of the film failed to live up to that promise. And Rorschach's meat cleaver scene was downright awful. 300, the ultra-violent, ultra-stylized swords-and-sandals movie that made him a star director was, to my taste, crass, bombastic and wholly superficial. Even with all they visual spectacle, I found my attention wandering throughout the film. And, God help me, I found myself actually looking forward to Sucker Punch. My thinking? A sexy, girl-power, gonzo genre-bending over-the-top fantasy action epic. What could go wrong? Egads, that trainwreck made Showgirls look like a sensitive coming-of-age character study. Sucker Punch fails at every level, and to make matters worse, this was supposedly one of Snyder's dream projects, a story he developed himself. If that's what he chooses to produce when given the chance, what basis do we have to expect more from his Superman?

Let's contrast that with another film I'm looking forward to this summer, Pacific Rim. As a long-time Godzilla fan, this giant robots vs. giant monsters smash-em'-up is right up my alley. The trailers look good, and I'm expecting great things from it. Why? The director: Guillermo del Toro. Just as Snyder's track record gives me pause, del Toro's inspires confidence. His film adaptation of Hellboy was clever and inventive, and even if hardcore fans didn't like the FBI viewpoint character, I though del Toro made it work. There was a lot of heart and personality in that film, and in the sequel, Golden Army, del Toro turned everything up several notches. But Hellboy aside, del Toro's achingly beautiful and tragically horrific Pan's Labyrinth is a landmark film that, no matter how far his career may fall, will always give me reason to look forward to his next movie with anticipation. Terry Gilliam's the only other director I feel that way about.

So, yeah, Snyder has a lot to prove. The trailers for Man of Steel have been awesome, but I can rattle off a long list of wretched films that had enough cool material in them with which to splice together a kick-ass trailer.

And it's not blind allegiance to Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie, as well as his and Richard Lester's competing versions of Superman II that make me wary of Snyder. Those movies have all kinds of problems. A lot of the problems stem from mixing and matching sequences from both scripts (Donner attempted to film the movies simultaneously to control costs, but production fell way behind schedule) during production to meet a looming release deadline. Not to mention the Salkinds' continual interference. But the thing is, Superman was the first attempt to treat super-heroes seriously on the big screen. Nobody had done it before, and a certain number of missteps are to be expected (and forgiven) even without nostalgia kicking in.

Bryan Singer, unfortunately, didn't realize that fondly remembered missteps are still missteps, and repeated them intentionally in Superman Returns. I watch that movie and enjoy it for its potential--there are, again, magnificent scenes there--but as a slavish remake/sequel, it doesn't bring anything new to the table, has serious structural flaws and strikes a really, really awkward tone throughout.

So, yeah. I've been accused of excessive negativity regarding Man of Steel. I really, really want it to be an amazing film. I want Zack Snyder to hit it out of the park. "But Christopher Nolan's riding herd on him! He'll keep him in line!" argue some. Well, I admire Nolan's work in general, but he's got some blind spots and inclinations that are starting to become more obvious in his more recent films. The strong undercurrent of nihilism present in pretty much every movie he's ever done strikes me as very wrong for Superman. But we'll see.

While I don't think anyone would argue with Snyder's visual instincts as a director, I've yet to see anything from him that convinces me he can tell a story that even reaches the flawed level of Donner's film. Again, I hope he proves me wrong. In a few days, I'll know one way or the other. If Snyder delivers, I'll be back here to sing his praises as loud as anyone.

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A brief word about the latest SFWA tempest

The writers organization, Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA), is somewhat legendary for its internal discord. Issues crop up on a regular basis, and by "crop up" I mean "explode unexpectedly with the fury of thermonuclear napalm." More than once I've described SFWA membership as akin to constant pit-fighting, and that is one of the reasons why the group has continual issues with membership attrition. So, the latest issue to crop up is a somewhat (depending on your perspective) misogynistic piece in the Bulletin, which is essentially the membership's trade magazine, in a long-running column by authors Mike Resnik and Barry Malzberg. The column, titled the "Resnik/Malzberg Dialogues," has prompted very strong reactions from very many quarters. Rather than rehash much of which has gone before, I'll invite any morbidly curious readers to check out this excellent round-up of relevant reactions put together by Jim C. Hines.

Finished reading all of that? Good. Now, I'm going to let you in on one angle that isn't addressed in the ongoing back-and-forth. You see, this didn't have to be an issue. I was a member of SFWA until letting my membership lapse a year or two back--I can't quite remember when. The long and short was that I'd gotten burned out and aside from a couple of narrow instances, didn't see much tangible benefit from being a SFWA member. Keep in mind that I'd volunteered off and on with that organization, and starting 2007 handled publicity and/or media relations. Which proved an arcane pain in the ass, but that's par for the course. A few years back, not too long before I dropped out, serious consideration was given to revamping much of SFWA's internal and external workings, with the Bulletin earning specific attention. That magazine, see, is pretty tired. Because of publication schedules, the market listings are chronically out of date and much of the content is either very basic or carried along by inertia if nothing else. Such was the case of the Resnik/Malzberg Dialogues. The opinion was floated--and I did not disagree--that the feature had outlived its usefulness, that any fresh insight the piece once offered had degenerated into "Back In The Day..." ramblings. The reason it was still carried by the Bulletin was that it had always been carried by the Bulletin. Inertia ruled the day. So, to remake the magazine, dropping the tired Dialogues was a priority. But immediately other quarters pointed out that this course of action would provoke a firestorm, as both Resnik and Malzberg have lots of friends and are well-known members of the old guard. I suggested recruiting a new team of more forward-thinking young writers to produce a column that would alternate issues with Dialogues, as a way of introducing gradual progressive change. Nobody liked that idea. Then again, nobody liked my idea for changing the name of the Bulletin to something, anything less generic than a flyer you pick up every Sunday on the way out of church. But hey, what do I know?

In the end, nothing changed. The Resnik/Malzberg Dialogues continued uninterrupted, and now has cost editor Jean Rabe her job (irony is cruel that way). The Bulletin still has a sucky, non-genre name. And SFWA is still mired in pit-fighting rather than creating real and lasting benefits for membership.

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130/365: Puffy Taco

The famous (or infamous, if you prefer) Puffy Taco. Folks in or from San Antonio will appreciate this one.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon FD 500mm f/8 reflex
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129/365: Plum

Late spring is one of my favorite times of year, because now is when the two plum trees in the back yard produce staggering amounts of fruit. The little Santa Rosa plum tree makes fruit that are somewhat firm with a nice tartness, although it's apparently on dwarfing rootstock and not terribly productive. The other, a Methley plum, is full-sized and makes oodles of super-juicy fruit with almost no tartness outside of the skins. The kids eat fresh plums until they don't want to see another one, and even the beagles help themselves to dropped fruit--fortunately, they seem to content themselves with licking the juice and not swallowing the pits. Here's one of the Santa Rosas, ready for picking.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macro
Lisa On Location

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128/365: Gossypiifolia

I'm a fan of passion flowers, and have several types growing at home. Several have been blooming, although I haven't had a chance to properly photograph them (at least, not as I would consider proper). Yesterday I saw that my passiflora foetida var. gossypiifolia (a Texas native also known as Corona de Cristo) had bloomed for the first time this year. So this morning I went out, and despite the less than ideal circumstances, grabbed a few quick shots. I like the color of this one, and it makes tasty (if small) fruit as well. The flowers close up by midday, however, so I've got to be an early bird to get any images.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Canon 100mm 2.8 macro
Lisa On Location

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127/365: Bottlecap Alley

Bug discovers Bottlecap Alley, and is thoroughly fascinated by it.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Tamron 28-75mm 2.8
Lisa On Location

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Friday Night Videos

I've seen Billy Joel perform live a couple of times, but never seen him play Root Beer Rag live. Which is a shame, because I've liked this goofy instrumental from the moment I first heard it. Billy's dismissed it in the past as filler and fluff, characterizing it as something one might hear as the soundtrack to a Keystone Cops film. Maybe so, but it's still a nifty piece of piano work, and if he's playing it more in his live shows, maybe I'll get a chance to hear it one of these days.

Previously on Friday Night Videos... Jackson Browne.

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Zumba goes to jail

Remember how I posted last October about that Zumba instructor in Maine who supplemented her income the old fashioned way? Well, unlike her clients, Alexis Wright didn't get to enjoy a happy ending--she was sentenced to 10 months in prison.

On Friday, Wright said the police raid had liberated her by removing a burden of guilt.

“In my eyes I'm free. I'm free from this. And I have an incredible amount of strength that I knew was in me somewhere. Now that I have the strength, I want to encourage others to come forward. I want them to know that there's at least one person out there who'll believe their story, no matter how crazy it seems,” she told Superior Court Judge Nancy Mills, sitting in Alfred, Maine.

Which, you know, is good for her. She seems focused and upbeat and hopefully will put her life back together after this. But looking a little closer, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Despite the widespread publication of names of her clients, I've turned up nothing on the prosecution of those men. Once again, the Johns who actually paid Wright for naked workouts get off Scott Free (other than their public shaming, big whoop), whilst the "evil temptress" gets almost a year behind bars. And Mark Strong, Wright's "business partner" who essentially was her pimp, gets off with a meager 20 days in jail. Tell me there aren't double standards at work here.

Meanwhile, in Boca Ratan, Florida, a police officer has resigned from the force after his wife was busted for operating a call-girl ring:

Samuel McCoy, a nine-year veteran of the Boca Raton Police Department, was placed on paid administrative leave in January immediately after the arrest of his wife, Denise McCoy. Denise McCoy and another woman, Sara Marin, are accused of running Sara's Entertainment escort service, which police allege was a front for prostitution.

Early reports claim the officer had no idea where all that extra money his wife had was coming from. Yeah, I'm really believing that, because never in the history of law enforcement has an officer ever played for the other team. Even money says the wife gets jail time while the husband walks away blameless and the clients uncharged, because the public humiliation was "punishment enough for these poor men."

Had the Chicken Ranch somehow persisted into the 1980s (a prospect I find highly improbable, but still) I expect it would've ended similar to these prostitution cases--the women taking the fall, while all the senators, governors, businessmen, farmers and students who happily kept them in business for more than a century faced punishment no harsher than public scorn (wink wink).

I wouldn't claim to be an advocate of prostitution, but hypocrisy and uneven, biased and unfair application of the law pisses me off to no end. Desperate women go to jail, while the wealthy fat cats are free to find themselves other female companions willing to be bought. How is that justice? Or even right?

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126/365: Grand piano

So last Saturday we took Monkey Girl to College Station to participate in a Texas A&M Swim Camp. While there, The Wife and I took our kids around campus to look things over--in particular, we wanted to see the "remodeled" Memorial Student Center. I use quotes there because the renovations consisted of knocking the entire building down save for one wall. Then rebuilding it back to look very much like it had in the first place. Aggies have always had more money than sense. Anyway, The Wife and I marveled at the replica MSC Flag Room, which looked very much like the original, minus a bunch of the flags. One thing that was the same was the grand piano there. I have fond memories of listening to students play random pieces of music on it. Fairy Girl--she the budding musician in our family--sat down and played Taylor Swift's "Love Story" (hey, she's a preteen girl) and Beethoven's "Ode to Joy." Yes, her Aggie parents were proud.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Tamron 28-75mm 2.8
Lisa On Location

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125/365: Concert

The girls wrapped up the school year last week with band concerts hastily-rescheduled from the previous week, which were postponed due to heavy thunderstorms blowing through town. Fairy Girl, pictured, has taken up the flute this year--the same flute her mother played back in the day--and has proven pretty good at it. So now she's growing proficient on both the piano and flute. She's a talented little girl.

Camera: Canon 7D
Lens: Tamron 28-75mm 2.8
Lisa On Location

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