“Are you going to blog about this movie?”
“Absolutely not!”

Yet here I am.

Drive is disturbing.  We debated afterwards: is the hyperviolence unnecessary? Should such depictions be censored to ward off further glorification of violence? Is the film art? What are the ethics of recommendation? Whose responsibility is it to consider the possible effects of viewing this film?

Scenes are consistently overdone. The musical score is outrageously sappy, underscoring the impossible juxtaposition of living a decently social life in the maw of the machine. The un-named principal character combines two extreme masculine ideals: he is both extraordinarily moral and primally violent – a classic hero stripped to the essence, a man of few words and stark actions.

The anonymity of the principal character represents everyone; even the innocent among us could become implicated in one way or another with the criminality of today’s society. At each and every moment we are at risk of being pulled in, taken down, consumed or killed by the impersonal clash of animalistic jockeying for position, power, status in whatever currency holds forth in the immediate situation. What can we do, mere individuals in a vast churning system of impersonalized rules, but drive by our own code?

The film presents no antedote, offers no salve or suggestion of change. The only response is to be driven to beat the course, to instinctively react in the instant, make the right move, face the consequences, turn and turn and turn again, speed up slow down nail the precise pace and time lane selection to come out – how? Victorious yet irreparably damaged. “I’m going somewhere… I won’t be able to come back.”

I am reminded of a scene in Control Room, a short while after the US Central Command’s Press Officer, Lieutenant Josh Rushing, realizes the humanity of Iraqis – the families and friends and compatriots of the enemy combatants – those people on the other side of the war. Lt Rushing muses that, unfortunately, we don’t yet live in a world that can do without war. Drive depicts war at the civilian level. Drive celebrates violence by suggesting its inevitability, and glorifies the performance of violence by cloaking it in a noble character.

Bullshit.

Humanity can do better than be driven by the machine. We built this system; we can re-engineer it.

Popularity: 2% [?]

Love comes in all sizes.

I’ll freeze my tropical butt.

Ohmygod this is Bengali music!

Pajama panties?

No wonder I feel bad so often!

Don’t choke on your birthday.

Yep, that’s what she does, spreads herself all over the white stuff!

A Bengali boat song!

Getting set up with 20-year-olds and awkward men.

Thank you for pre-empting my stress!

Ridiculous.

Preceding pithy lines courtesy of Drunk on Power, Cautiously Concerned with Confidentiality, Yossarian (The Multiple), The Cat in the Hat, Deep Fudgslie, and Tapioca.

We regaled the birthday grrl with a hearty rendition of Hey Jude and a bittersweet chocolate espresso cake topped with raspberries, blueberries, blackberries and whipped cream.

Butterfly Restaurant
Hadley, MA

Popularity: 3% [?]

Carol gave me a fist bump over the table of her knitted goods.Carol at ADA_Stavros

I was doing Ambassador Rounds as one of the team of sign language interpreters, going vendor-to-vendor, letting people know we were here and available to interpret if they wanted to converse with any Deaf folk attending the celebration of the rights of people with disabilities to reasonable accommodations and accessibility to the goods and services of our society.

Carol and I are about the same age. She told me she’d been knitting since last year’s event so that she would have enough stock today. Like me, it took her twelve years to complete her college degree. Unlike my path of fits and starts however, her effort required a persistent negotiation of train stations, bus schedules, and much more that she chose not to tell me. In the middle of her story, these details popped out:

I was a little girl, run over by a truck. Comatose for three to seven and a half months. One and a half years of hospitalization. And then I ran out of challenges.

They sent me home and I was left to my own devices.

Most of the wheelchair users I’ve had the chance to get to know have been tenacious and optimistic. Carol called it PMA: Positive Mental Attitude.

I also met Martina Dianne Robinson, author of Set on Freedom, six volumes of poetry on various identities. Martina gave me a copy of the acrostic poem she wrote last year in honor of the 20th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act.

All across nation

Members of disability community

Engage in

Remembering the days before a more

Inclusive

Congress

Acted to ensure civil rights for disabled and

Non-disabled alike the

Summer I was 13

We had a dance

Inside/under the main summer camp pavilions

That evening. I remember

How

Delighted the young girl who was me

In that moment

Surely in this new land of

Access, she could

Become anything she wanted,

Impairment or not. So much

Laughter and joy

In

That evening. How was that

Idealistic teen to know that

Even civil right laws didn’t

Stop bigots from being bigoted?

After all we’ve learned in the 2 decades, we still

Celebrate and commune

Today!

Read more by Martina Robinson:

Amherst, MA
Celebrate the Promise
Stavros Independent Living Center

Popularity: 3% [?]

Page 5 of 890« First...34567102030...Last »