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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #55

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

REST IN PEACE, ORIGINAL WEEKLY POST-ED #55

Here lies a Weekly Post-Ed that died too young. It was full of great ideas and whimsy, full of great experiences and bits that were sure to delight. However, its life was cut tragically short when draft after draft turned into absolute nostril cancer that would soon tumor the internet with more unnecessary badness. So, in honor of this most recent three-week gap in Weekly Post-Eds, let us now take a moment of silence and honor that which never was.

*Clears throat*

*A polite nod at someone across from you who accidentally made eye contact, too*

*A graceful glance at a wristwatch for how much time has gone by*

Thank you. Let us now proceed…

***

BREAKING THE ICE, AGAIN

What I had not anticipated with writing Weekly Post-Eds again were all the setbacks. Low self-confidence, a lack of material, schedule constraints, performance pressure, fatigue—one thing after the other. The past three weeks were a crude reminder that just because we envision a successful result doesn’t mean that is how things will turn out.

I’ve written four completely different drafts for this entry. The first draft was about an opera I attended for the first, the second about Mother’s Day, and this most recent draft I spent harpooning my own ability to write this damned weekly offering—which, in hindsight, makes  sense, linearly, with the fallout of the first two drafts. 

What you are currently reading is the fourth complete rewrite.

Yup.

I think the problems began once I set an expectation for how this Weekly Post-Ed should read like. I was expecting a plethora of new experiences to magically sprinkle into a Weekly Post-Ed stew—a dash sharp satire here, a sprinkle of autobiographical whimsy there…And by Wednesday afternoon, I could copy/paste my charming thoughts and opinions into Wordpress and bask in the majesty of another dish well served to the internet.

Is anyone actually inspired by cooking shows where all the ingredients are pre-measured in bowls and all the charming host has to do is toss it all into an even bigger bowl to cook to perfection? The heartbreaking part is understanding that, no, the special organic paprika blend that was used in the all-so-delicious recipe is tucked away in an obscure aisle at the grocery store, and that the checkout line is twenty miles long, and the sun is about to go down, which begs the question of how much time there is to cook anyway, and—

There’s a terrible miscalculation going on—what we think is easy and effortless takes a lot more than we think.

And it sucks.

It is now three weeks after I pictured myself triumphantly posting on my website. At this point, I’m publishing this draft not because it is better than the others that came before it, but out of a necessity to publish something instead of nothing.

Sometimes when we get stuck, it’s hard to recognize the path to get unstuck is to stop running circles.  In this case, circles of indecisiveness (which raises questions about the shape of the running in a circle if the issue is insecurity—but perhaps I’m overthinking that one). Yes, I’m afraid of this draft being bad. It’s also a bit late in the process to develop an aversity to attempting new things. It’s concerning that the lessons we often learn in life are ones that come around frequently.

I had forgotten that the point of all this was to experiment and try things. And, as a regressing learner of worldly matters, I have to ask: What is the point in avoiding looking like an idiot, exactly?

I can’t think of a reason. I’ve run out of people to actively seek impressing.

Until that list gains new names, I’ll have to settle for the truth.

Which, I think, is the nature of writing autobiographically—it isn’t important to be anything other than honest about your story.

Even the foibles of trying to put together a measly piece of website content.

So, here it is. Finally. Out the door, being read (hopefully). Next week, there will be new things to tell.

Hang in there with me. We’ll get there together.

***

  1. “Dirt Face” by Peach Face, Not Charles
  2. “Everything Goes (Wow)” by BROODS
  3. “Orpheus” by The Beaches

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #54

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

THANKS FOR JOINING US

“Robert! So good of you to join us,” she said. 

Or he said. 

Really, anyone who had a turn to come up and say hello at church after I hadn’t attended in a while used to say this phrase to me. I’m not sure why this specific passive-aggressive line was used by literally everyone who came over to shake my hand. Maybe it was rehearsed. I like to think a group gathered to collectively agree about how best to subtly insult someone who hadn’t been present at church in several months, and that there must have been other phrases that didn’t quite make the cut:

“Glad you could make it this time!” | (Pretty good, but perhaps a little bitter)

Or: “I thought you were dead; I’m glad to see you’re not! Ha ha ha.” | (Maybe a little too much wishful thinking mixed in with that one)

“Didn’t you grow out of puberty years ago; why do you need to sleep in until noon in your twenties?” | (Oddly specific and definitely NOT autobiographical)

And I would smile, trying not to squirm from the cold, clammy hands of the elderly ladies, or the overly aggressive, bone-breaking squeezes of the elderly men. I smiled because there was nothing for me to say: 

They were right to point out that I had been gone for some time without any explanation.

The explanation was simple for me. I was off living a life that required my being elsewhere to fully live it. The fault was in assuming I could return to a place where I supposed there would be no difference in opinion from when I was last there. In fact, I expected a warmer welcome—like a guest hosting SNL or that nod of gratefulness from librarians after returning books to the library after years of being overdue (definitely NOT another autobiographical detail).

There wasn’t any excuse worth giving. I didn’t feel a need to explain myself. I was back. And I was excited to get to the real conversation. 

“You look taller, have you grown?”

“Have you lost weight?”

Yes. And, yes I have. Thanks for asking.

“Glad to be here,” I’d say, smiling through clammy or overly aggressive handshakes, relieved the good part of the conversation could finally begin. “I’ve been busy.”

Truly. Here’s what I’ve been up to:

***

MARIO’S MOVIE

Image courtesy of Universal Pictures

A little behind the times, but I had some thoughts on The Super Mario Bros. Movie.

Quick side review: The movie was excellent! There were so many easter eggs and musical score references to previous games layered throughout the movie that really could only be appreciated by fans of the longstanding game series: The score included pieces from Super Mario 64, Super Mario 3D World, Luigi’s Mansion, Yoshi’s Island, and so much more. The voice-acting immediately made sense once Mario (voiced by Chris Pratt) said his first lines, and the likes of Luigi, Bowser, and Princess Peach came to life in ways that the games hadn’t touched upon in franchise history. This was truly a movie for generations of fans to come together to get another view of Mario and company in a new way. Mario truly warps to an interconnected world featuring arctic regions (with snowball launching penguins), dangerous lava pits, overgrown mushroom stalks, rainbow roadways, and even a land of rampaging apes (including Donkey Kong and kin). By the end of the movie, there was a call for more: More Nintendo franchises to appear, more worlds to explore (including Mario Galaxy references throughout that included a comically depressed celestial starlit, Luma, that hinted at the eventual introduction of Rosalina). 

The Nintendoverse appears to be getting started, which brings a slew of stories that stand apart from the usual superhero canon that has so saturated moviegoer imaginations for the last decade. It’s an added bit of fun, a twist on nostalgia that was both needed and appreciated by generational audiences. It was a movie made with love by fans of Super Mario for fans of Super Mario.

 And not to mistake it: This was a movie made for the fans.

For critics, on the whole, did not appreciate The Super Mario Bros. Movie.

Underneath the joy that fans emoted during the movie, there was a discord of critical review. The Super Mario Bros. Movie scored incredibly high by fans but poorly amongst critics. After having watched the movie, I understand critical arguments that were made about the film: There wasn’t a groundbreaking story, nor was there much emotional depth with any character; and the stakes appeared low as it was clear Mario would save the day…give or take a few extra lives along the way.

And yet, I wholly disagree with just about every critic that scored the movie as subpar.

Where critics lost objectivity in their reviews was in assuming that “good” movies consisted of essential story tentpoles: a rich backstory, high stakes, emotional growth, and a surprising but inevitable conclusion. It’s true that these features are lacking in The Super Mario Movie, but anyone who left the theater thinking the film a failure missed the point.

A movie can be greater than its individual parts—traditionally acclaimed story elements included.

The magic of the Super Mario Bros Movie sparked from its delivery of nostalgia. The movie was a celebration of something so beloved, and by so many, that the fact it exists in a way that compliments the original experience of the video games is a testament to a different kind of satisfaction. There was much more working in the movie than those basic arguments critics were making.

It reminded me of good cooking, and so I thought:

“Story doesn’t necessitate a good movie, much like a prime cut of beef doesn’t necessitate a great meal: The joy of eating has everything to do with how its prepared, who its eaten with, and if you like to eat beef in the first place.“

I would venture to claim many critics didn’t like beef Super Mario before they sat in their chairs to dine out.

Which is fine. Movies live beyond the confines of bad reviews. And from the joyous applause and laughter and excited anticipation for what Nintendo franchise could possibly appear on the big screen next, I looked around at an audience that was one-third kid and two-thirds adult fans of the Mario games: There will surely be second helpings of this dish.

My critical advice: It’s not too late to acquire a better taste for the games before watching next time. It’s a delicacy to many, after all.

***

COLLEGE, SURVIVAL, AND ESPRESSOS

I’m writing a bit extra in this Weekly Post-Ed to say a little more about what I’ve been up to since I last posted: Hope you don’t mind.

I’ve just completed my first year back to college full-time. Two semesters of attending classes, doing homework, studying for exams…and all at the age of 34-years-old. Everyone that I’ve mentioned my current occupation (“full-time university student”) has said, “I could never do what you’re doing. I could never go back to college.”

After a year’s worth of experiences and tribulations, I can conclude these people are 100% right: Being older doesn’t make college easier because, by design, it’s meant to be survived.

That’s because college is not a series of tests that assess how smart you are, but rather how resilient you are. The amount of information that’s taught in lecture, expected to be read and understood for class discussion with assigned readings, and the gauntlet of tests, essays, and exams throughout a semester is designed for most to flounder. The totality of information aside, the performance pressure students place on that holiest-of-idols, FINAL GRADES, leads to scholarship opportunities that are either accepted or revoked. It’s a painful reality since the cost of college is so laughably high that one wonders why there isn’t a “Tip Your University” screen when paying tuition by credit card—just an added cost to an already paid-for service.

(Of course, one could argue there is a “Tip Your University” feature: It’s called alumni donations.)

I’m writing this as a situated adult, someone who has arrived on the other side of young adulthood. I watched my classmates, undergrads ranging from 18-21, mostly, who worried about campus living, friend groups, where the parties were at, how to get sex (and from whom), and who is older and can score some beer. Many worked side jobs, juggling full loads of coursework as well as 20-30 hours as a restaurant server, cashier, cook, tutor. Many experienced homesickness, many traveling across state to attend and live on campus to survive on their own.

I write all of this assuming we’re all comfortable acknowledging the absolute frantic age of always-connected electronic life we live in. Texts, emails, Google searches, late-night notifications, social media likes, 24-hour news, mass shootings (including a particularly close-to-home tragedy at Michigan State University only a few months ago), the still-present Covid-19 variants running amuck, and a slew of intangibles that are probably worth listing but I’ve run out nerve. The constant draw of attention to devices and crises that are pushed into eyeballs at rapid speed makes for a life unlike what past generations have experienced. 

College feels like a triple espresso, now, instead of a double; just enough to induce a constant state of shakiness that is advertised as the new normal. The body can only take so much, however, which is both literally and metaphorically the case with students today.

College life encompasses all of this, condensed into an ecosystem that demands excellence and flaunts those who somehow possess the superhuman strength to achieve everything on the course syllabus with a 4.0 GPA. Attending college is a Herculean effort, one that tests mettle in ways both arcane and unreasonable. And, I have no problem identifying as someone who had it easier than most. Out of my population of college students, I’m quite privileged. For all the reasons I’ve stated above, I didn’t have to work a side job, nor did I have to wrestle with forging an identity amongst a landscape of raging hormones and brand new adulting experiences like my classmates did. I was solely on a mission to broaden my intellectual horizons and gain a bachelor’s degree: A piece of a paper that equates to, essentially, a deli line ticket acting as an expensive placeholder that says, “I have a right to the working world, too.”

And yet, despite all the setbacks and travel and intensive mental Olympics required to survive each semester, it truly was an invaluable experience being back in college. I have so much more to share, about what it meant to succeed as well as what doesn’t work about current education, but all of that can wait for another time. 

I’m thankful for a break before heading back for a final year. There’s a lot to unpack about these past few months, so stay tuned.

***

Courtesy of CAPCOM

This week’s Weekly Finds features the upcoming Original Soundtrack from Street Fighter 6. The themes of each roster character have been fully revealed and feature a dance-centric, urban catalogue of hip-hop, cultural inversion, and it makes for a damn entertaining setlist to fight to in-game. While the musical direction of Street Fighter 6 has bristled many fans of the series who wished for a more traditional remix of song selections from previous titles, I’ve quite enjoyed the new direction for this iteration of character themes. Below are YouTube links to a few favorites I’ve had on repeat lately:

Of course, if you’re a fan of the original character themes circa Street Fighter II, here’s a walk down memory lane orchestration by Games and Symphonies! Enjoy!

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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Weekly Post-Ed #53

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

THE MOST VALUABLE SKILL

A text message came early on in the week. A friend asked: “Which are the most valuable skills to have in life?”

At 33, I have a different relationship with the notion of “success” than I did when I was in my twenties and the world appeared full of potential. In my twenties, I might have answered something like: “Develop a skill, make it as good as you can get it, move to a place where someone values that skill, and then things will likely work out.” 

Which, isn’t bad advice. Many a YouTube guru would gladly make a motivational video about it.

Except, I’m skeptical of such advice now, even if it proves practical. I’m older, full of experiences to the contrary, and am aware that the complexities of career success are beyond how talented or hard working one is. Plus, there are years and years of learned behaviors such as poor relationships, recovering from divorce, and social factors like the Covid-19 pandemic and a world increasingly growing pessimistic and fearful from an overexposure to media of every variety.

In short—it’s much harder to pinpoint which advice applies the most when the floor is constantly shifting underneath.

All of this isn’t to say I’ve grown negative or unhopeful. To the contrary, I feel optimistic about my future and everyone else’s. Having said that, I wouldn’t give the usual American “work hard and your dreams will come true” pathos.

So, I took a night and thought about how I would answer my friend. The next morning, this is what I texted back:

“Honestly, I think my official answer is, ‘I don’t know’. At 33, my best guess is critical thinking, some basic reading and writing, and emotional intelligence. Throw in boundary setting as a bonus. By far, I think the best skill ever is to be naturally lucky.”

It’s been a few days since I sent that text. When I reread it now, I shrug. It’s a typical “I’m nearing my mid-thirties and I’m unsure why things aren’t going better” response. Deductively, this exact line of reasoning is likely why my friend asked me his question in the first place.

And after writing this Weekly Post-Ed, I shrug again. Not from my answer, but because I find the question of essential skills less interesting the older I get. I’m sure the constant hustle and clawing for success matters to some, and power to anyone attempting to climb up their respective hierarchical ladders, but I’ve resigned myself to playing the hand I’ve been dealt.

And like the games of solitaire I play at my desk, I hope to get lucky with the next hand or two. It’s not the most inspiring way to play (or even sell this metaphor), but it keeps me playing the next round without expecting so much, which, by the way, is another great skill to have handy.

Maybe I should have said that in my reply to my friend instead. Oops.

I’ll leave it open for all of you: What do you all feel are the best skills to have in life?

***

  1. “Our Wasted Hours” by Clean Cut Kid
  2. “Northern Lights” by Oliver Harzard
  3. “Them Jeans” by Joe Hertler and the Rainbow Seekers

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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Weekly Post-Ed #52

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

TEN THINGS

This week’s entry marks an entire year’s worth of Weekly Post-Eds. It’s quite the milestone. To commemorate the 52nd entry, I made a list of things I learned whilst writing them. Without further ado, here’s 10 Things I Learned Writing Weekly Post-Eds.

1. I’m Not Sure I Learned Anything at All.

It’s true. When thinking about this list, my first thought: what was it that I was supposed to have learned with all of this? The process for writing Weekly Post-Eds is the same as it has ever been: Frantically jotting down whatever smorgasbord of stuff I could think of and cut what isn’t working. That’s about it. I’m sure there was something meaningful or poignant I was supposed to learn throughout this process, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Which leads me to the second item on this list:

2. [LEAVE THIS SPACE BLANK FOR SOMETHING MEANINGFUL]

I’m sure that meaningful lesson will occur to me at some point. I’ll reserve this space for when I think of it.

Oh: maybe something about sex comment bots?

3. Failure Leads to Somewhere

This is more in line with my belief that writing is the only pure form of magic out there, but despite weeks where it appeared there wasn’t anything to write about, merely sitting down to write something led to Weekly Post-Eds getting written. It was oftentimes awful material, and painful to write, but something always appeared on the page despite the critic in my head lambasting the quality of the words.

If you’re failing, remember: At least failure gets you somewhere else.

You may still be failing, but at least you’re in a new spot to do so. I always enjoyed the change of scenery.

4. Never Make Promises You Can’t Keep

I’m a great planner, not so much a doer. So, when one is confronted with the prospect of writing creatively on a personal website in order to entertain, one wants to dream about all that it can ever be. Projects are conceived, and the end result of finally showing them to the world was addictive to think about.

You know, sans the actual hard work to complete said projects.

Long story short: I often announced projects that weren’t close to being finished without following through. Half-finished essays promised within a week’s time, and entire ideas for projects (such as a series chronicling all my online dating adventures) never materialized. Of course I wanted to come through on projects and bigger ideas; I just tripped over bad habits at every turn: Procrastination, rationalizing myself out of any responsibility to readers, even if their numbers were so few.

A favorite rationalization was this: ” Hardly anyone comes to the website anyways,” which meant the few readers I had would leave with relatively little fuss, or, as it did happen, never say anything. This was a pleasant defense mechanism…until I realized how I was treating anyone who happened upon my website. It was a huge punch to the face of anyone visiting in hindsight.

It turns out the solution to all of this is not to make promises you can’t keep. So, until things are ready, my lips are sealed. 

Either that or I hire someone with a very critical stare to guilt me into working harder.

Nah.

5. Writing About Personal Stories Was the Most Enjoyable

In this quest to stand out from other writers on the internet, I struggled to come up with what differentiated my writings. I found that writing about personal stories was the closest I’d get to solving the riddle. Not only did I enjoy telling embarrassing stories about myself and sharing them with whomever might read them, but strange things happened frequently in my daily life and were easiest to write about. I had a constant stream of oddball memories and strange encounters during my weeks, of which there is still more to unpack. I’m excited to keep writing about more episodes from my past in the future.

You should definitely come back for that. It’s going to be a great time.

(Unless I just broke Number 4 from this list and promised something I won’t adhere to…)

Nah.

6. Comment Bots Are Aggressively Sexual

Most of the comments I received and moderate on this website are from bots, sadly. As far as the internet underbelly is concerned, I’m inexperienced in recognizing all the different types of phishing schemes out there. However, I’m amazed by this wave of bot comments that are overtly sexual towards content creators. Are comments such as, “I want you come over and f*** me, right now!” supposed to warrant some kind of desperate reaction to click on a link?

Secretly, I was flattered that anything I wrote evoked any sexual reaction, even if from a bot consisting of a few lines of code. If you can pique the sexual interest of some defunct phishing program, you know that you’ve made in your heart of hearts.

7. Don’t Come Up With Large Numbered Lists When You Don’t Have The Material Yet

This lesson occurred to me while making this list. Sorry, it’s a fresh one.

This is more of a lesson for me, not you.

Anyway, what else…

8. Try Not to Write About People in a Way You Can’t Defend

On a few occasions, I wrote about real people in my life. It was likely a story or conversation that later I embellished (creative license, they used to call it), or portrayed them unflatteringly. In each case, I heard back from someone specific who was not pleased with what I had written.

And I felt awful: Not because I didn’t like what I wrote, but because I used their words or actions for entertainment’s sake.

If someone enjoys what is written about them, it’s easier to dip into the well of real-life experiences without thinking twice–they liked it, all is well. However, when you receive negative feedback or that this person was embarrassed, it hurts as a writer. The point is to entertain, to use the guise of someone in order to reveal something greater than the sum of its parts. Sometimes, you can’t help but write in a negative light, no matter what the intention.

I’ve since learned to weigh seriously if I should write about someone who is bound to read about themselves.

I’ve considered complete strangers, too. But they often say very little about my having written about them.

9. Don’t Be Afraid to Change Your Mind

Along with the previous item on this list, there were times when I wrote about something from my week and I realized I no longer agreed with my take a few days later. At the beginning of writing Weekly Post-Eds, I’d struggle with deleting sections because it was difficult to think up replacement material. I’ve found that it’s more important to evolve with your ideas than stick to what was safer to write about.

People change, so should your writing and ideas about life. It’s a sign of being sane…to a degree, anyways.

10. Was Any of This Worth It?

Without specific numbers, this website is relatively niche and unknown. After 2.5 years of attempting to write content and garnerng a handful of loyal readers over that span (my mother included: She’ll be reading this later; she’s my favorite of my readers), I’ve often questioned why I did any of this. Was the point to become a successful commercial writer? Was the intention to make a name for myself in the freelance industry, or to write stories and build a small Patreon community to pay for my writingly lifestyle? Over the course of 2.5 years, I’ve considered all kinds of solutions to these problems: Either step up my social media/marketing game, produce a hell of lot more content, or bust.

And yet, each time I’ve thought about this path, I sink back in my chair, and retch inside. There’s something about this model to “internet success” that is inherently against why I made all of this to begin with.

I’m not here to push my prodigious writings or become famous (my god, I could care less about that). I’m here to chronicle what my life is like, a living journal/record in the wrapping paper of a guy who likes to make snazzy graphics to go along with the writing. 

That’s. About. It.

And maybe stumble across something profound from time to time.

To really know if any of this was worth it, you’ll have to answer for yourself. Perhaps in the comments below.

And when I later read, “I want you to come over and f*** me, right now”, from a fresh batch of sex bot spam in my comments inbox, I’ll know it was all worthwhile. 

I like to keep my readers titillated. Even the fake ones.

***

  1. “Rose Colored Glasses” by The Collection
  2. “Never Been Better (feat. Orla Gartland)” by Half-Alive
  3. “Dressed to Kill” by The Wombats

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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Weekly Post-Ed #51

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

KUDOS DONE QUICK

Image via gamesdonequick.com

By the time you read this, Awesome Games Done Quick 2023 will be halfway over. If you don’t know about Awesome Games Done Quick, here’s the TL;DR: it’s a 7-day video gaming marathon packed full of speedruns raising money for charity (for this event: The Prevent Cancer Foundation). Old favorites ranging from Super Mario Bros. 3 to Crash Bandicoot 3: Warped, as well as newer games such as Stray and Pokémon Legends: Arceus, are beaten in record time to the delight of tens of thousands watching online, and all for a great cause.

For me, the joy of watching AGDQ isn’t so much about basking in the nostalgia of games from childhood, but of watching something completely new. There’s bound to be something you’ve never seen before at AGDQ. So far in the marathon, the biggest surprise was a game called Fashion Police Squad, a DOOM-esque shooter where a police officer fires a fashion gun and warrants justice to all the “fashion crimes” done in his city: Men wearing baggy suits and tourist dads with socks with sandals around the city, and so much more. The lighthearted and humorous gameplay made it an instant favorite of the event.

Of course, the most notable aspect about AGDQ 2023 was the brave and necessary stance of event organizers in response of two measures recently passed in the state of Florida, the seminal location of AGDQ for over a decade.

In a statement on the GDQ website, the reasons for canceling the live event in favor of an online-only format shortly before this year’s event were thus:

“While we would love to return in-person, we’ve determined that to provide a safe and welcoming event to all, it was best that we move away from our originally planned location in Florida.

Given the state’s continued disregard for COVID-19’s dangers (including anti-mandate vaccination policies) and an increased aggression towards LGBTQ+ individuals, including the law colloquially known as “Don’t Say Gay,” we do not believe it is a safe place for our community at this time…”

The full statement has since been removed from the official GDQ website due to the site’s overhaul while covering the event, but the full statement can be found on Kotaku’s website here.

It’s the kind of decision that makes me proud to tune into this event year after year. GDQ has always been a beacon for the gaming community and has since shown support through action that community matters more than politics and taking a financial loss. This year in particular, I’m proud to donate.

There are three days left to check out the marathon (outside of the quick uploads from the GDQ YouTube Channel in case there’s something you missed!), but here is a short list of runs I’m still looking forward to:

***

CONSPIRACY THEORIES LITE

The more I continue this reentry into college, the more I dislike the idea of the English Major. I’m nearly through with this first week of classes of the semester and am reading from three different sources: A Norton Anthology, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, and a novella called Faces in the Crowd by Valeria Luiselli. 

If that sounds like a lot, it is.

Not because of the reading (which, if you’re an English Major like I am, you better like it) but because I’m tired of this rapid-fire “Hey, diagnose this thing you just read! Immediately!”

After every thirty pages of a novella I haven’t read before, I’m asked to scour pages, looking for themes and symbols as though I’m Robert Langdon from The Da Vinci Code. Never mind the rest of the novel; we can’t be bothered to finish it before finding MEANING. And once we find MEANING, all will be right with the world.

Not really, but maybe the stakes in an undergrad course feels reminiscent to that. Personally, I’d rather finish a new novella and digest it for a second. This process of diagnosing a longform piece of writing every 30-pages feels like stopping a movie every twenty minutes, turning to the person next to you, and asking “What do you think the movie is about?”

How about we just finish the goddam movie first?

The art of literary criticism is very boring, and more than I’d like to comment on with this Weekly Post-Ed. And if you’re asking, “Then, why be an English Major?” Well, seeking a degree to read more stories has its downsides. It’s a bit like having children—you love them more than you can express…but dealing with shit is just part of the job. Literary criticism can be a way of better engaging with stories, but most often criticism is show-and-tell for academic types. Where else can a critic say without inducing comas in a public place, “Hey, I know the REAL reason the author wrote this book!”

Literary criticism, really, is just Conspiracy Theory Lite—less sugar and calories than the real thing.

Of course, if you informed the author or writer of your genius piece of criticism, they would probably shrug, smile kindly, and say, “That’s fun. Now, please go away. I have a life to live.”

I assume I’m one of those “real” writers when I leave class each day. I shake off the literary critic I pretend to be, put away the ceaseless conspiracy theories that are somehow college credited, and I go home to write something.

Hopefully it’s something good. Most of the time it’s not.

You just hope that, eventually, something decent gets on the page.

That’s my own working conspiracy theory, anyways.

***

  1. “This City Reminds Me of You” by APRE

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #50

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

ABOUT THAT POKÉMON ARTWORK…

Let’s get it out of the way quickly: I’ve been away for a while. The reason? I could name about a dozen – petty and not so petty – but the important thing is getting back into it.

One thing I will make clear is that this Weekly Post-Ed is going to be rusty.

I mean it. I haven’t written one in over a month. It’s like a guitarist that hasn’t plucked the strings in a while—those first few notes are going to be all over the place. The F-sharps, and D-flats are likely to tinge the ears something awful–ouch.

Case in point: The Pokemon-inspired artwork above. It’s the logo of Pokémon Scarlet, which isn’t only old news, it’s not even what this Weekly Post-Ed is about. I made it a month ago and never used it. I had a whole list of thoughts about my play-through of Pokémon Scarlet, what I thought worked and didn’t work (including that epileptic inducing frame rate–blek!), but I’m not going to get into all that.

Nope.

I’m including the graphic – something I should have used but didn’t at the time – because its a prime example of how I’ve felt about starting the New Year.

***

A LATE(R) NEW YEAR’S MESSAGE

This Weekly Post-Ed began a week ago, before the New Year, before my deadline of this past Monday came and went with a self-esteemed thud. I had written something reminiscent of all the other New Year’s messages that exist on the internet: Fondly recanting all the things I learned from the past year, my hopes for the future.

Then something strange happened: I stopped writing. For several days.

Oh, it wasn’t out of laziness. I had a deadline, a renewed commitment to updating this website, and the draft was nearly finished. Each morning, I sat at my computer, opened the draft, and thought about the fixes I could make. I figured in a day or two, I would be finished. I would smile knowing this Weekly Post-Ed wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be the start of something.

I just had to type the remaining words.

Only, I didn’t.

Each day it was the same: wake up, sit down, write nothing, rinse, repeat. I was seriously concerned. It’s not that I didn’t want to write this Weekly Post-Ed, I just couldn’t. I felt physically incapable, like I suffered a bout of carpel tunnel and the usual way my fingers and wrist flexed were no longer under my control. There was a numbness, a state of nothing.

By the end of the third day, a thought crept to the surface of my mind, something I didn’t want to admit. Then, I wrote a line in all caps in my draft:

“I JUST WANT TO DO NOTHING.”

This struck me as surprisingly true. Nothing at all? After months of skipping out on writing something serious, I still wanted to do nothing? How much more time did I need to get my act together? It’s not like the rest of the world wasn’t planning something grand for the New Year

That’s when I searched online and that is PRECISELY what I found.

There wasn’t the usual smattering of dream vacations and goal-setting that permeated across social media; it was a message of growing despair. I read messages of hopelessness and directionless-ness. I read about those who had had enough to the constant fight to come up with a better, gleaming version of themselves for the upcoming year.

I read messages of wanting it all to stop.

I couldn’t help but agree.

For the first time in my adult life, I didn’t want to think about how this year would be better than the last. I didn’t care about losing weight or publishing more stories, about finding that hidden hobby that liberated my life of all responsibilities, or finding true love or reconnecting with old friends. Deep down, I wanted to do those things, but even more than that I wanted to stop.

Just stop.

I took a moment to consider why. There were the usual suspects: Cultural stressors like a never-ending fight with variants of Covid, the political landscape looking more like the Land of Mordor, a constant connection to the internet and, as a result, constant advertising. From the uptick of pop psychology coming up with another term for what was wrong with me and my childhood, to the constant selling of lifehacks that will boost my creative output/personal happiness/financial security if only I use these easy tips—

–And now Jeremy Renner is in the ER because of a snowplowing accident??

You know what, I just can’t right now.

Let’s do this first:

***

CELESTE OVERHAUL

Photo by celestegame.com

“It was time for a new look to the website and there’s no better wintry design than the game Celeste from developer Matt Makes Games. Not only is the snowy mountain asthetic of Celeste perfect to ring in the New Year, but the themes of the game resonate deeply with me currently. For those that don’t know, the game stars a girl named Madeline who summits Celeste Mountain in order to deal with her anxiety and depression. She meets many friends along the way, including a dark version of herself that she must confront. It’s a game about facing who we are, what we’re capable of, and through the magical gameplay and music that only video games can juxtapose.

Attached below is the art I made for the background, complete with flying strawberries bobbing around Celeste Mountain in the background. I hope you enjoy the new look!

Drop a comment below with your thoughts on Celeste!“

Sincerely,

WHAT REMAINS OF THIS ORIGINAL WEEKLY POST-ED #50 DRAFT

***

A MORE LATE(R) CONCLUSION

I’ve wrestled with a message for over a week now that this is what I have to show. It’s not much at all. It’s all the angst and disbelieving cries from a world that says of the New Year, “Do more? Really? Well, why don’t you get on your knees and suck my…”

You get it.

We all get it.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m not quite ready to write my New Year’s message yet. I’m not even ready to acknowledge the blitz of news from the first five days of 2023 yet.

A Buffalo Bills player collapsed on the field after a tackle??

*Insert brain numbing buzz*

At this point, my message is to exist. Consistently. And to show up.

What more is there considering the circumstances?

***

  1. “Void” by Crystal Glass
  2. “Cobain” by Abhi The Nomad & shane doe
  3. “The Core” by Babe Club

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

Jeremy Renner is really in the ER because of a snowplow accident? 2023…just why?

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #49

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

This Weekly Post-Ed is entirely about the recent PS5 exclusive God of War Ragnarök. If that’s not your thing or you are averse to spoilers, then I invite you to enjoy the rest of the known internet until you are ready to read about it. Much love as always, and feel free to click around the website all you like.

Cheers!

GOD OF LORE

The recent reboot of the God of War series by Santa Monica Studios has been the most comprehensive representation of Norse Mythology in decades. I would position God of War in front of the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s rendition of the titular Thor and the Norse pantheon, as well as Neil Gaiman’s beloved American Gods series.

I spent the past month watching a playthrough of God of War Ragnarök, a roughly 22-hour marathon for the main storyline. The immensity of the game and its lore brought to life a harsh Viking world ruled by gods, giving brevity to a frozen, expansive universe wrought by Fimbulwinter—the long, desolate snowscape that entraps the world before the end of all things known as Ragnarök. Littered across the nine realms were beasts and enemies imbued with Bifrost powers. Menacing bosses and lesser gods attacked our heroes at Odin’s whim, breathing life to a stunning and varied pantheon of powerful beings.

Our hero, Kratos, the titular god of war, began his journey to Ragnarök at the conclusion of the previous title. In that game, Kratos and his son, Atreus, complete the burial ceremony of his deceased giantess wife, Faye, and succeeded in scattering her ashes from the highest peaks in each of the nine realms, but not without consequences. Kratos encountered demigods from the Norse pantheon, ultimately killing the two sons of Thor, resulting in a debt that was to be paid back in blood.

At the start of God of War Ragnarök, Atreus is older, a teenager transitioning into manhood, and careening towards a life where he will have to answer his own destiny. Kratos must prepare his son for a possible life without him—it was the vision given to Kratos that when Ragnarök destroys Asir, he must also die.

***

SOME GAMEPLAY THINGS

I admit that I’m not so interested in the gameplay mechanics of story-driven video games. Yes,  I’m one of those viewers who enjoys getting to the next major cutscene to see what happens next. However, as impatient as I was to get on with the story, I was just as pleased by the constant injection of new skills and abilities that complicated the puzzles in God of War Ragnarök. It wasn’t a case of acquiring a skill that would then lead to cutting down a discolored bush that conveniently blocked a previous pathway, but instead introduced new combinations of abilities that coalesced into skills that amplified fights with more intense enemies.

Not only were the puzzles consistently interesting without overused mechanics (think: freezing waterfalls or cranking a wheel to unlock a drawbridge or pathway), but the enemies themselves were just as varied and unique. Mini bosses with health bars the length of the screen were equipped with move sets and AI that didn’t bore the player, often leading to gratifying and earned conclusions to epic fights. And each major enemy had their own finishing sequence or killing cutscene where Kratos absolutely butchers a body to pieces in a way that pays homage to the gruesome origins of the series—all of it highly satisfying and must-watch brutality.

The weapon crafting system added new abilities and combos regularly, and it was a joy to watch the complexity and combination of move sets with the improved battle system. While Kratos no longer launches into the air and mutilates waves of soldiers/beasts like in the original trilogy, the realism of the fight sequences added a sense of drama and stakes that made every outcome earned and worthwhile. 

***

BOUND TO FATE

The story of Kratos in God of War Ragnarök has the titular warrior battling his past life, one in which saw the likes of Apollo, Zeues, Hercules murdered in his quest for vengeance. Atreaus, meanwhile, is facing the future, Ragnarok and the end of the world, and his connection to fate in the cataclysmic event. Atreus is, in fact, this world’s Norse Loki—a centra figure in bringing about the end of the world in Norse mythology. With his fate prophesied certainty, he tries to break free of fate, to uncover Odin’s plot before the all-father can achieve his plan of acquiring ultimate knowledge to preserve Asir gods and his rule. 

The journey of the game is a proverbial breaking free from assumed pathways of our lives, to claim a future that is not dictated by the past. Whether that means growing out of the shadow of our parents (as Atreus and Thor must decide) or to discard a past in which we no longer think ourselves loyal (as in the vengeance that defined Kratos through the first trilogy of games as he killed the gods of Olympus), there comes the question of choosing to be better.

This game is asking if we have a choice in all of that.

Many characters must wrestle with what it means to serve fate or act differently from prophecy. Will Thor serve his father, Odin, at the cost of his family and history as a drunken bodyguard to the all-father? Will Freya, the former Queen of the Valkyrie’s and former wife of Odin, wish to kill Kratos for the death of her son, Baldur (which was the final fight in the previous God of War title—a decision that cost his friendship with Freya and made her a merciless enemy)? 

As Kratos concludes later in the game, “Fate only binds you if you let it.”

***

SOME MISGIVINGS

There a few items in God of War Ragnarök that give me pause. I’ll list the two biggest gripes for me personally because I believe the story suffered greatly from them.

The first is making Atreus the Norse god Loki. This was an odd choice because of how central a character Loki is to Norse mythology. He’s the prime antagonist in many of the myths, often acting as the sole reason Thor or Odin are foiled in whatever aim they have. To make Atreus Loki depleted the mythology of a central component that it desperately needed. All who referenced Atreus by his “giant name” (as Loki) never seemed to recognize him as the famous god of mischief. It was as though the scheming, trickster god never existed, which, from a story standpoint, left much to be desired. If Loki were a separate character and not christened unto a main character, there would be room to maneuver away from Odin and Thor and the rest of the Norse pantheon that would keep the player guessing about what came next.

I’m unsure why Loki was used as an alias for a character who didn’t embody anything resembling the antagonistic Norse god other than shapeshifting abilities. This big change made it hard to buy into the mythology of this game’s universe, in my opinion. It’s like the Greek pantheon existing with Zeus—something would feel lacking.

The other serious story problem had to do with how the climax handled the fate of Kratos. God of War Ragnarök HEAVILY foreshadowed throughout its story that Kratos would die. Every major dialogue in the game referenced fate and if there was any choice in the matter. All of this very tense and exciting; I couldn’t wait to see how Kratos would either elude death or sacrifice himself as the tragic figure being set up by the writers and developers. 

By the climax of the story, Kratos was willing to go to his demise to give his son a chance at a life without the haunt of his past crimes.

Which meant for 22+ hours of the main storyline, everything was lining up for an epic conclusion to the series.

 Except in the climax, NONE of what was foreshadowed came close to happening.

The final fight with Odin was theatrical enough—Kratos and Atreus team up with Freya to finally put a stop to the all-father hellbent on sacrificing the nine realms and his family in a selfish pursuit of power. This was fine. But the fight unfolded like any other in the game—Odin unleashes magic attacks and teleports around, seemingly too powerful of a foe, but eventually he is bested and put to death by Loki spirit magic? 

At no point was Kratos in serious peril. 

At no point did a decision have to be made by Atreus to save his father or himself (or anyone else for that matter). 

Kratos was just as dominant and invincible as always—and it was disappointing. This was Odin he faced! The all-father. The most powerful and cunning of the Norse gods. Certainly, there could have been a situation that called for Kratos to lose.

It never happened. The finale felt like any other Marvel movie: New powers and weapon upgrades led renewed team spirit that led to victory.

Yay. Woo. Huzzah.

In the end, Atreus wakes up in a realm protected from Surtr and his destruction of Asgard. Kratos gives his boy a hug. Atreus goes off on his own, a boy grown up into a man. The world is at peace.

And I watched the screen as credits rolled, unsure of what to make of all this.

***

A BIGGER STICK

Why didn’t the ending work? Why didn’t I cheer for Kratos when he prevailed like he always has? Wasn’t that a satisfying conclusion? Kratos is a changed man, a wisened father who learned of self-sacrifice instead of defaulting to the butcher god-killer he he once was. And when faced with the knowledge he might have to die in order to give his son a chance at a better life, he chose to live and save his son—having his cake and eating it, too.

That’s a lovely conclusion for some stories. Just not this one. Why?

It wasn’t earned.

If the story had shown the player that the greatest fighter in the known world could fall to something greater than himself, it would show vulnerability in a way we had never seen with Kratos. What the player received was another final upgrade, another weapon to beat and batter Odin with. 

Apparently to beat Ragnarök, you just need a bigger stick than the other gods.

Thematically, Kratos’s sacrifice would have given the story the weight it deserved. In the real world, I’m aware that it makes little sense to kill off Kratos as a character. God of War is one of Sony’s premier IPs; they would never kill off a character when more games could be made. It would be like Nintendo canceling Kirby—why do that?

I should note that I never wanted Kratos to die. It would be tragic, but not necessary in telling the story of the end of the world. What I wanted was for Kratos’s survival to be earned and I think that’s where the story stumbled at the end. The game could never give Kratos an enemy that was too much, or too powerful. The player had to win; as did Kratos in the story.

Perhaps the true lesson of Ragnarök is to witness an unjust ending of the world. In Norse Mythology, no side wins. The final war is a destruction that lays all to waste, even the likes of Odin, Thor, and Loki. Through their death comes rebirth.

But I can’t help but wonder of Kratos: if he is never allowed to die, how can he be reborn? How can his story go on?

How can one be better without knowing what it means to lose?

I’ll have to wait for next Ragnarök to find out, I suppose.

***

THE NATURE OF A THING

There’s another line from the game that encompasses exactly how I feel about the totality of it. When Brok, the southern-drawl dwarf cannot bless a new weapon because he is missing a part of his soul, Kratos presents the staff to the dwarf anyway and says, “It is the nature of a thing that matters. Not it’s form.”

Despite conflicting feelings about the story’s conclusion, I cannot deny what a momentous achievement this game was. In terms of lore, gameplay, presentation, pacing, and the character dynamics represented by the gods and secondary characters…it was one of the best games to come along in a long time.

Santa Monica Studios produced one of the best representations of Norse mythology ever made with characters and places that incite more wonderings about the land of Asir gods and what awaits all of us at the end of the world. 

And for that, the nature of God of War Ragnarök means far more than the form.

***

  1. “If That’s What You Want” by Goldpark
  2. “Deep End” by Dayglow
  3. “Wildest Dreams” by Taylor Swift

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #48

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

WALKIES AND TALKIES

While I haven’t finished my first playthrough of one Mario+Rabbids: Sparks of Hope, there is a major aspect of the game that stands out apart from gameplay and that is the cutscenes. Cinematically, they are fantastic. However, the biggest gripe I’ve had with the game has to do with usage of dialogue. 

In the original Mario+Rabbids: Kingdom Battle, the only character dialogue outside of the usual Mario-esque sound effects of “Woo-Hoos” and “Yeah-Hahs” of Mario and the others comes from our player-controlled and Roomba-esque robotic guide: Beep-0. Oftentimes, his lines were humorous as well as informative, acting as the main character from which we explored the world of Mario+Rabbids. Beep-0 was our translator, explaining with whimsical observation the eccentricities of the invading Rabbids in the Mushroom Kingdom. 

Fast-forward to the sequel and things have changed. Everything is bigger, shinier, a bit more fleshed out thanks to the success or the original. Now, instead of the adorable character grunts and groans sound effects, many characters are given voiced lines. These lines often take the form of runners, or a series of words that begin a line of dialogue before cutting off as the rest of the line appears on the screen in a dialogue box. This is a tactic that highlights certain words like characters and places or funny reactions, and it’s just to give characters “a little extra” characterization.

I do not think this works for a very specific reason.

Long ago, I enjoyed the LEGO videogames. Because of a lack of budget or what-have-you, characters in LEGO games (LEGO: Batman, LEGO: Star Wars, LEGO: Indiana Jones) did not have voiced lines. Instead, the game was portrayed through glorious silent acting with cartoonish stunts, pantomime, and comical sound effects. And it was marvelous! In an industry saturated with voice acting to drive plot and story forward, here was a series of games that did not need it. Fans knew the story of Star Wars and Indiana Jones, and even the unique telling of a Batman title was not lost on young fans who understood that bad guys were bad, and good guys were trying to stop them.

LEGO Star Wars

Voiced lines did not add to the complexity of the story.

Eventually, all the mainline LEGO titles inserted voiced lines of dialogue, changing the dynamic of what made those earlier games great. Instead of a pantomime, slap-stick driven version of pop culture movies and stories, there was cinema experiences with LEGO characters acting out all the parts.

The formula was inversed and, I’d argue, for the worse.

Unfortunately, the same propagation of voiced lines has begun to erode on the Mario+Rabbids series. If there are more titles in the future, I imagine that with the influence of the soon-to-be released Super Mario Movie that is monstrously dubbed over by Chris Pratt (yeah, not my Mario either) will do away with all sound effect grunts and “Woo-hoos” for voiced lines.

That is, until huge public outcry reverses the cinematic fantasies of Nintendo and the disillusionment that all characters must speak lines to appear more likeable. Then, things may revert to their original voiceless harmony.

I’ve enjoyed Mario+Rabbids: Sparks of Hope tremendously. The other parts of the game aside from creative voice direction makes for a wonderful world to get lost in. However, this one sticking point of “More is Better” with voiced lines of dialogue is not always the case.

Sometimes it changes the nature of what was charming and unique in the first place.

What do you think? Are voiced lines given to normally voiceless characters making for better gaming/movie experiences? As always, I love to read your thoughts in the comments below!

***

BREADCRUMBS

I haven’t written about my ongoing college experience since it began. It’s wild to think I’ve sat through college lectures for ten weeks already. The last that I wrote, I had a tempestuous relationship with a professor who called me Bertie (and still does). My impression of this professor was that he was a performer, someone who spoke to the class like an actor reaching the nosebleeds at the Kennedy Center. He’s charismatic, melodramatic at times, and peculiar in a way that means his tastes for music and culture has not evolved over the past three decades.

I was critical of this professor because I thought he was a chauvinist.

Ten weeks into the semester, I find my initial reactions were true, but there was something else going on that I was unaware of. Strangely, I’ve found his classes are the ones I try hardest in.

In trying to pinpoint why, I think there are two important causes for this uptick in effort. The first is that this professor isn’t boring. Loud? Sure. Boisterous and erringly peculiar? Absolutely. But boring? Not in the slightest. This professor has hidden depths when it comes to the material, and even if his musings about how the novellas we’re critiquing in class often fall on ears too young to understand the ramifications of age and tragedy, it’s clear that he is trying to open up worlds that would be left unexplored.

So, yes, he is a beloved professor by just about all his students because of this charisma.

Perhaps most impressive about this professor is something he performs very technically during his lectures. Where most professors lecture with an air of superiority over students, this professor often stops his train of thought to ask a trivia-esque question. These questions can range from anything like, “Who was the philosopher who coined ‘I think, therefore I am’?” and, “What’s the name of Voldemort’s snake again?”. By doing this, the professor wakes up the class. Everyone is attentive, more involved, and voices speak up to answer the obtuse.

Why?

Breadcrumbs.

This professor is laying breadcrumbs so that we’ll all follow along. Inserting a batch of trivia questions every class that are loosely related to the lecture is like a quick game of sudoku or a New York Times Crossword—something to dust off those old neural pathways and bring up morale.

Not only is it a refreshing break in the pacing of a lecture (which are often monotonous and droning), but it feels good. He’s empowering his students. He’s allowing them to feel more confident so that they might answer the larger conceptual questions that are being asked.

Like a Pavlovian trained dog, I find myself salivating for these trivia questions every class. They’re fun, I feel like I’m smarter than I likely am by answering them, and everyone feels connected and heard trying to figure them out.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised after ten weeks with this professor. I’ve learned that even if my first impressions have remained correct in sizing him up, those impressions are not the totality of what is happening.

The more I attend classes, the more I enjoy seeing the 3-Dimensionality of this place. It’s something I didn’t notice a decade ago when I first took college courses.

***

  1. “666” by Jeremy Messersmith
  2. “F*ck It I Love You” by Oh Wonder
  3. “Smoothie” by corook

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #47

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

Down With Paragraphs

It’s good to see you again, it’s been a while, jibber-jabber, jibber-jabber, it’s good to be back, you look great, obviously! 

But hey, let’s get to the point:

My new stance on paragraphs: I’ve been painstakingly formatting Weekly Post-Eds with indentations since this website began, but I’m slowly coming to understand this is NOT the preferred formatting on the rest of the internet. And, I already knew that before indenting, but I’m doing away with it for the pain-in-the-ass reason that not all browsers/viewing experiences mesh well with indentations. Sometimes indentations appear correctly, like so:

            “Hey, I’m a happy indented line! Don’t I look nice and formatted?”

But other times sentences look like this:

                                                            “What the hell happened here, Robert? Why are you starting in the middle of the page? What in the f*** is wrong with—”

You get the point. So, for the next while I’m joining the ranks of the rest of the internet and nixing paragraph indentations. It’s a test run, but I’m assuming it will stick around.

Ironically, in my personal writings, I never indent paragraphs. Funny how I do the opposite when presenting my writing.

Anyway, onto more indentation-less goodies.

***

She-Hulk Thoughts

The latest experiment from the Disney+ Marvel Cinematic Universe was another attempt to improve the streaming service television formula. She-Hulk: Attorney at Law followed the sagas of Moon Knight, Loki, WandaVision, and Hawkeye, as each carved out a niche with their respective heroes and furthered the debate about what works and what does not within the scope of MCU limited series.

She-Hulk: Attorney at Law used a gimmick that no other show could, something that is inspired from the comic books: breaking the fourth wall. Jennifer Walters often speaks directly to us, the audience, about the state of things (the show, characters, lazy storylines, etc). Whereas breaking the fourth wall isn’t a new invention (especially with the recent duo of movies featuring Deadpool that did it so well), I couldn’t help but notice something was different about this iteration of the theatrical technique. Breaking the fourth wall wasn’t so much about addressing the audience or being socially aware of tropes within the superhero medium in this show; there was something else going on.

That’s why I waited to write anything about She-Hulk until after the show concluded. 

The show featured a refreshingly female take on the world of superheroes and what it means to be marginalized and stereotyped as another “Hulk figure”, something that mirrored the arduous and infinitely frustrating journey of being a woman in modern day America. Jennifer Walters combatted what the world thought of her, warping her own perceptions through a lens of pop-culture, modern gender roles, and exceptionalism (as well as the ugly underbelly of internet message forums that seeks to defame or destroy women entirely). 

The series was 9-episodes long, most of which were frustratingly comical or situational. “Where is this going?” I found myself saying to my computer monitor during the credits of each building storyline. There wasn’t a main villain, no obvious thread that connected to the movie universe, nor was there any discernable urgency for Jennifer Walters to overcome some mounting problem. I felt I was watching “a day in the life” of the protagonist as she assailed issues from all sides of the feminine spectrum.

I was frustrated, but I would come to understand that the seeming monotony and subtlety of the series was playing into the overall message of the show. 

And by the finale, everything would pay off in spades.

The finale of She-Hulk: Attorney at Law is one of the best I’ve ever seen in television. My earlier intuition that fourth wall breaking was leading to something more came true in the most visceral sense. The climax of the finale featured the usual mashup of characters, all combatting one another in a stereotypical and unfulfilling superhero fashion.

Until She-Hulk breaks the fourth wall a final time, literally breaking out of the Disney+ show.

Jennifer Walters was finished with the restraints that every other MCU streaming show has encountered until this point. It was a proverbial rite of passage to break free of formula and superhero tropes. The screen froze, She-Hulk surveyed the Disney+ desktop main menu, and enters another show to demand answers for why her show has been so directionless and kische.

I won’t spoil the rest. It’s a wonderful half-hour of television. Most importantly, I found that the monotony I was experiencing was purposeful, a slow realization that the subtle irritations Jennifer Walters faced on her journey were the public expectations of comic book fans from the internet, and also men with patriarchal views about outdated gender roles, and the total absurdity of finding true belonging in a world that wishes to pull a person a million different directions for the sake of fitting into an outdated and worn paradigm—even the superhero cliché. 

Ultimately, the show was asking how anyone (primarily women) can find their place in the world, one that makes sense and is liberating?

It’s a question that women face in nearly every facet of life, something that She-Hulk: Attorney at Law showed a glimpse of through the guise of a superpowered Hulk lady.

This was the best television show yet from Marvel Studios. I enjoyed the risk-taking and breaking of old formulas. It’s an exciting place to find the MCU exploring, and I can’t wait to see what other issues can be worked into the fabric of new characters. 

I’ll be rewatching She-Hulk: Attorney at Law. It’s the first time I felt that way about a Marvel Disney+ show thus far. Well done!

***

The Merry Blokes of Merry Wives

“The Merry Wives of Windsor” @ Grand Valley State University

Theater departments are doing the best they can. That’s the first thing to understand when attending student productions at any university. Some are better than others, but I often find that the ones that present student struggles give the most to talk about.

Before it appears that I’m a total duschbag to the handful of Grand Valley State University theater students that are polishing their acting chops on the stage, this is not my intention. I was a horrible actor in college (let’s be honest, things haven’t exactly improved with age in that department) and I understand it takes many at-bats to figure out what the hell to do with any character. I’m not criticizing the students…

But the Director on the other hand? Oh, let’s talk about those creative choices.

The play I saw last weekend was “The Merry Wives of Windsor”, a Shakespearean comedy about the sneaky exploits of the wives of the male protagonists too enmeshed in their own egos to see they are being easily manipulated. It’s a wonderful play and I enjoyed this viewing thoroughly enough.

Except for two reasons characters.

Shallow (a character given the modern makeover as leather-jacketed preacher) carries an entirely INCOMPREHENSIBLE Scottish accent. My date and I ratioed that we understood 1 in 5 words. Secondly, Doctor Caius is often portrayed as a bumbling Frenchman. This rendition, however, featured a French accent that often slipped into German pronunciations, then trailing into potentially Swedish accents. Needless to say, Doctor Caius had just as poor delivery as Shallow.

When the inevitable occurred and the two characters vomited lines of Shakespearean dialogue at one another in a scene featuring only those two cantankerous actors, it was pure drivel.

I don’t blame the students donning their roles. I blame the decision to give these actors the direction of being incomprehensible in a play by William Shakespeare, perhaps the greatest wordsmith in the English language! It was like the Louvre opting to paint lines over the Mona Lisa, or playing a laugh track over Beethoven’s “9thSymphony”.

Just…why?

After a few days of pondering, I think I know why these incomprehensible characters were allowed to gallivant the stage in this fashion.

And I think it gives a modern lesson: sometimes a car wreck is the most effective entertainment.

It was certainly that on a cold fall evening on GVSU’s Allendale campus.

As Shakespeare once commented on his own works: “Suck on that, Bard. I’ll say it how I want.”

(No, he did not say this.)

***

I’ve been listening to an entire album by Sure Sure called the “Lonely One” EP. It’s another solid release by a band that generates danceable hits and deep digs and themes with their music. Below is the track listing. Be sure to check out “Facc” “This Time” and “Funky Galileo”, some new favorites of mine.

“Lonely” EP by Sure Sure
  1. “Lonely One”
  2. “123”
  3. “Facc”
  4. “This Time”
  5. “Peaceful In My Mind”
  6. “Funky Galileo”
  7. “Receive”

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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