February 2nd, 2003

little review

Poem for Sunday

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ashinae, this poem made me think of you. Read it and at a certain point it will become obvious why. You must tell me if there's a connection.

If I were a poem (gacked from cara_chapel):

I'm the limerick, mired in muck.
I refuse to be bored or get stuck.
   I like to offend,
   But not, in the end,
As much as to thwart expectations.
What Poetry Form Are You?

Last night, for obvious reasons, I had an overwhelming urge to watch a space movie with a happy ending. I chose Space Cowboys rather than Apollo 13 because I remembered that at the end, the damaged shuttle takes the same approach as Columbia did, flying over Texas to land at Kennedy in Florida. (Apollo 13 has a scary final descent as well, but, obviously, the crew's in a capsule, not a shuttle.) I tried to resist the impulse to watch at first, remembering Constance Penley's suggestion in NASA/TREK that Americans were all too ready to allow science fiction to substitute for an actual space program when there were disasters in the past. But in the end I decided that it really wouldn't hurt anything if I watched a movie.

And Space Cowboys is a total feel-good movie -- two movies actually. The first hour and a half is a witty drama about geezers trying to get into space, then suddenly there's a twist that I never saw coming the first time I saw the film and it's an incredibly tense beat-the-clock scenario. The first half is essential to set up the emotional impact of the second half. It's a very enjoyable flick for all the unrealism of certain aspects of the plot. And it has a real feel-good ending, somewhat sad but satisfying.

On the subject of movies, here's The New York Times on how Hollywood rallies 'round the homeland...

And here, just because she's so entertaining, is Maureen Dowd on world leaders and their Hot Rods.