Flip and Flop

Life comes at you fast…

Last month I wrote about Florida’s law that was dubbed “Don’t Say Gay”. I had many feelings about it, but I specifically called out Disney’s tepid response and how their employees were frustrated. Since then, not only have they changed course, stating they’d be “pausing donations to GOP political campaigns”, they even reinserted a queer romance from Lightyear that was cut. Ergo, Disney initially taking no position indirectly led to them being coerced into taking one!

Disney’s stance made headlines, so Governor Ron DeSantis signed a bill that, with the approval of Florida’s Senate, stripped Disney of its special status. (Basically, petty is as petty does.) This not only forces Disney to pay to remain in Florida, it harms the livelihoods of their tens of thousands of employees. If this feels like a tit-for-tat war, it is. And it’s sad.

But then it was revealed by Disney’s PR that revoking their special status meant that they’d no longer forgive any debts since the 1960’s. In other words, if Florida wanted Disney to pay to continue existing there, then they’d first have to pay back money from 6 decades. And on top of that, it’d be footed by taxpayers. Isn’t Capitalism wonderful?

I hate being that person who sits back and watches entertainment drama unfold, complete with excessive popcorn and 3D glasses, but this is an unusual occasion. Disney’s no saint, and they’ve had plenty of scandals, but this is the one time I’m rooting for The House of Mouse. I feel bad, since the average person will suffer, but it’s schadenfreude in action. Especially since Governor DeSantis is eying the 2024 Presidency.

It's hilarious how this whole ordeal backfired for DeSantis. This is like picking a fight with the toughest guy in school, expecting an easy win, and then realizing too late that he was tough for a reason. Oh, and said guy was kind enough to warn you that you’ll lose in advance. Even if both parties involved “suck”, that this was on the table at all is a “derp” moment.

I don’t know how this’ll play out long-term. But while Disney should really be paying their fair share of taxes, at the same time this won’t end well for Florida. Contrary to what DeSantis believes, Florida needs Disney. They not only employ so many of its citizens, they’re also its biggest source of income and tourism. Disney, however, doesn’t need Florida, not when they also have property in California. It’s a one-way dependency, and if DeSantis expects to win the fight, then he’s mistaken.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Warner Bros. is in poor shape currently. Whether it’s The DCEU not yielding the results they wanted, being sold to Discovery after their merger with AT&T failed, or the Fantastic Beasts series being canned after 3 entries, they’re financially desperate. There’s also the inevitable Flashpoint film being retooled and reworked constantly. And then, of course, there’s its star, Ezra Miller, and their own baggage.

I’m no expert on Miller’s situation, since it keeps changing, but the actor’s been in hot water for breaking into people’s homes and starting fights. It seems like every week something new happens, whether it’s choking a fan, or being caught lashing out in Hawaii. It’s something WB doesn’t need right now, especially given their situation with Joss Whedon. Not to mention, it’s making Miller into a punchline. And given how Miller clearly needs help, that’s not good.

Let me reiterate: Ezra Miller’s not well. I know we like stigmatizing celebrities, especially when they’re famous, but something’s clearly amiss here. As someone with mental health issues myself…well, the signs that Miller has mental health problems too are there. And it’s telling that they’re not being addressed.

It's a shame because I like Ezra Miller as an actor. I think they’re really talented, having seen them in The Perks of Being a Wallflower and considering their role in the first Fantastic Beasts film one of the highlights. But while I like Miller as a performer, I can’t turn a blind eye to the scandals that are currently surfacing. It’s too much to handle. It’s also giving me anxiety.

Besides, like I said, Miller needs help. I don’t know if it’s therapy, intervention or medication, but they need it badly. It’s never fun or sexy to acknowledge the flaws and shortcomings of celebrities, but they’re people. And like regular people, they’re prone to weakness. Acknowledging that’s healthier than acting like it’s non-existent. I should know, I’ve been turned off of Mel Gibson for nearly 20 years!

As for WB and Flashpoint? I don’t know. It’s easy to wait this one out, but considering how long it’s been in production, as well as the numerous delays, I think they should cut their losses. Is it disappointing and annoying? Yes, especially for the people involved. But if their constant delays, as well as Ezra Miller’s controversies, are indication, then maybe it's time to focus on other projects. Miller could use a break from the spotlight...

A Hegemonic Supersession

A few weeks ago at a Jewish event, I was asked to scour YouTube for a song that was relevant to Passover. Being curious and unconventional, I landed on a tune I’d never heard before. Despite it being nice, something about the song kept ringing incredibly false, but I couldn’t figure out why. About halfway through, I heard a reference to Jesus and the Pascal offering. That’s when it clicked: this was a Christian song about Passover.

I immediately felt embarrassed and switched to something from The Prince of Egypt. But despite learning a valuable lesson, something about that song stayed with me. It reignited a frustration I’ve had with the non-Jewish world for a while. It was present when I wrote my response to that ill-informed Chanukah piece, and it’s been at the back of my mind whenever I’ve discussed anti-Zionism with non-Jews. Basically, I feel like Christian Hegemony and Christian Supersessionism are major issues in the world.

What are Christian Hegemony and Christian Supersessionism? These terms might sound like no-brainers to Jews, but mainstream discourse doesn’t stop to think about them. The word “supersessionism” even shows up as a spelling mistake, despite being a real concept. Therefore, I should also refer to them as two facets of “Christian Superiority”.

Plenty of people will be incensed by this, despite it being important to understand. It makes sense; after all, there are over 2 billion Christians or individuals with Christian origins in the world, in contrast to roughly 15 million Jews. Additionally, most have never met a Jew in their life, so much of people’s understanding of Jews is rooted in second/third-hand knowledge. That’s why Christianity, a religion that sprung from Judaism, feels so weighty in comparison to Judaism.

This all boils down to The Pharisee Conundrum. I’m no expert on the history of the Pharisees, but the term “Pharisee” is routinely used as an insult. It seems harmless at first, but since The Pharisees became the modern-day Rabbis, it’s disturbing that a euphemism for “Jews” is an insult. But that’s to be expected with Christian Hegemony.

I’ll go even further: in The New Testament, The Pharisees aren’t portrayed flatteringly. They’re insular, off-putting, greedy and the catalysts for betraying Jesus to Rome. There’s plenty about Jesus’s trial and execution that I find offensive, but his death also ignores a key component, that being Rome. Rome would later adopt Christianity, even using Jesus’s life and death as propaganda for spreading the religion forcefully. Rome, therefore, had to change the story to absolve themselves of guilt, reframing it as a Jewish problem.

Christian Hegemony spreads this constantly. It’s why The Crusades happened. It’s why The Spanish Inquisition happened. It sprinkled the seeds for 20th Century Fascism. And even now it’s mentioned frequently by well-intentioned, and sometimes no-so-well-intentioned, individuals. All of this while othering Jewish voices.

Also, FYI, Jews still exist. And contrary to Christian Hegemony and Christian Supersessionism, we have agency and our own identity. It’s why we’ve never fully fit in with gentiles, as well as why suppressing our voices is hurtful. It’s also condescending.

I know this is jarring for so many. After all, you’re not awful people! And you wouldn’t intentionally marginalize Jews! But even the well-meaning can prop up hate in the name of progress. And co-opting Antisemitic behaviour’s one such an example.

I wouldn’t be quite as irked if people weren’t readily-offended when Christian Hegemony and Christian Supersessionism are called out. Like with other bigotries, Jews should be listened to when we say that something’s hurtful. Slandering our ancestors is one example. And co-opting our practices to spread your messages, something that song was guilty of, is another one. This should be a moment of learning, not offence.

I’ll end with a story: someone I Follow on Twitter disseminates Christian Hegemony regularly. His Pinned Tweet mentions how Christians who claim that Antisemitic beliefs are vital to their religion are, in essence, practicing Antisemitism. Despite clarifying that he doesn’t think Christianity can’t be practiced free of that, it went viral and attracted defensive claims that he was calling Christians “Antisemitic”. In the process, people were proving his point.

This is what I mean by “Christian Hegemony” and the legitimate damage it does. Antisemitic talking points are so normalized by history that attempts to call them out cause people to take them way too personally. It shouldn’t have to be like that, though. If we’re to successfully create a better world for future generations, then unlearning bigotry of all kinds is critical. And that includes Christian Hegemony and Christian Supersessionism. It’ll be hard to do, yes, but no one said it wouldn’t be.

Alternatively, you can ignore everything I’ve written, much to your detriment, and continue acting surprised when Jews call you out over your rhetoric. Because why break old habits, right?

***

Apologies for the short piece, but I didn’t want to overstay something I felt could be summarized succinctly. Additionally, I’ll mention now that I was way too ambitious with my Blogging routine this year, as my content has slowed again. Hopefully this is only temporary, but for now I’ll play it by ear and see what what’s worth writing. Until next time!

LEGO Star Chores

I recently finished the main campaign of LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga. Despite thoroughly enjoying everything about it, and in some ways considering it the best LEGO Star Wars entry, I’ve had little urge to keep going. I tried Free Play Mode, but it didn’t take long before I stopped. Even with the DLC, I’m sure it won’t take long for me to be burnt out on that too. Why is that?

Well, I think it goes back to something I said about the original LEGO Star Wars games. To quote an old piece of mine:

“…[B]y the time I’m done the main campaign my patience wears thin, so I lack the urge to press onwards.”

I feel that even more here, since this game’s much bigger than previous entries. It’s not even that the magic’s not there, because it is. Rather, it’s because the game has so much content, yet most of it isn’t accessible right away. It’s a problem I have with most games these days, particularly open world ones. And it’s getting on my nerves.

Let me explain.

Back in the early days, games were straightforward. They were hard, and often unfair, but once you beat them, that was it. You were done, could absorb your accomplishment, and either move on to another game, or start it again. And it worked!

Then limitations eased up, thanks to advances in technology, and games now had to be bigger and take up more real estate. It wasn’t enough to beat a game anymore. Now, with more space available, you could collect content post-campaign. Mario wasn’t confined to the main game, he now had coins/stars/shines/moons/insert items here to find. In some cases, backtracking to collect these even became necessary. And other franchises took note, with the collectibles swelling over time.

That said, a certain charm was lost along the way. Whereas getting an item was once a happy accident, now it was a mundane hunt. Whereas it was once optional, now it was mandatory. And whereas it once served the main story, now it was extra. In other words, it became a chore.

I know some people don’t mind additional collectibles. I’m probably in the minority too. But while this isn’t to slight newer games, many of which are masterpieces, I do think developers aren’t content with not including those extra trinkets. It’s almost as if they’re worried gamers won’t be satisfied unless they spend 40+ hours on a game, so as to get their money’s worth. And it’ll only get worse from here.

To be fair, I have two solutions that’d let people to have their cake and eat it too. The first is to make these collectibles optional. This is what I dub the “do it yourself” solution. It’s a method games like Super Mario Maker and Little Big Planet strive for: you don’t need the trinkets and whistles to complete the game, but they allow for a richer experience. You basically, like the option suggests, do it yourself, or go as you see fit. I find that option less-intrusive.

But since that’s not the best option for most games, or even the best solution, my second suggestion is more reasonable: make collecting everything integral to the main story, and all while not actually being a chore. This is something that the Pikmin franchise does wonderfully! Because while you can get by with not collecting every piece of Olimar’s ship in the first game, every treasure in the second game, or every fruit in the third game, you basically need to in order to beat them properly. What’s better, you feel that dopamine rush of collecting the trinkets without the drag of going on endless Easter egg hunts and performing laborious tasks with no satisfaction.

It’s not like this couldn’t be done with other franchises. Pokémon Snap only unlocks the real ending once you’ve taken pictures of all 63 of the in-game Pokémon and all 6 of the in-game Pokémon Signs. Bionicle: Matoran Adventures makes its side-quests in each level a necessity to complete them properly, and they’re simple enough to find without being a chore. I know integration of this kind is antithetical to modern sensibilities, and I get why, but think about how much more fun collectibles could be if you didn’t feel obligated to constantly backtrack for something as mundane as a music note or a key card.

Which ties back to LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga. I really enjoyed playing the game, and I’ll probably go back again in the future! But I probably won’t 100% complete it once I’m finished the main campaign, as much as that bothers me. Because it’s too much trouble, too time-consuming and, let’s face it, not fun. And if I’m not having fun with a video game, then it might as well be homework. I think we can agree that’s not a fair alternative.

Anatomy of a Failure-Dissecting Exodus: Gods and Kings

Ever feel an urge to revisit a movie from almost a decade ago that you remember well enough to know you hated the first time? That was me with Exodus: Gods and Kings. I hadn’t seen it since it debuted in 2014, yet my memory was so exact that I knew it was trash. And now, 8 years later, I wanted to give it another shot. I went on Cineplex’s website, and somehow managed a rental for $2.20 CDN. Then I remembered it was from 20th Century Fox, so I could’ve watched it for free on Disney+. Oops!

Still, $2.20 is chump change. And while not as insulting as I remember, it was definitely pretty lame.

Exodus: Gods and Kings had plenty going for it. It was directed by Ridley Scott, so you knew it’d have excellent production value. The cast, while Euro-centric, was A-list, so there was potential for stellar acting. Even the story it was adapting was really easy to adapt to film, as religious fanatics and anti-theists alike had something to latch onto. Surely this’d be another win for Scott, right?

Exodus: Gods and Kings starts out with some text explaining the backdrop. That’s already a red flag: why not show Moses’s backstory? The Prince of Egypt and The Ten Commandments both did that, and they were highlights of their respective movies. This movie, however, doesn’t seem interested in that. It’s baffling.

The real focus here is about the “brotherly relationship” between Moses and Ramses. I put that in quotes because it’s not even shown to us. Like most of the big revelations, it’s explained with a throwaway line from Seti before they battle the Hittites. A war that serves no purpose than padding time. Also, to remind everyone that the director once directed Gladiator.

After that pointless scene, Moses travels to Pithom to discover that a Hebrew slave knows his backstory. We get more exposition, and then it’s off to confront Moses’s handmaiden, Miriam, with a coercion of violence. It’s as bad a moment as you’d expect, and, again, it feels like padding. It’s here where the film’s biggest surface issue’s also made apparent: whitewashing the main cast. You’re telling me that Ridley Scott, who’s been given the freedom to do anything at this point in his career, couldn’t get ethnically-accurate actors? Why is almost everyone either American, or British Commonwealth-white?

Whatever, Noah had the same problem. Besides, we have to put up with angsty, warlord-like Moses who uses violence to solve everything: confrontation with Egyptian guards? Stab them to death. Confrontation with assassins? Stab them to death. Median sheepherders harassing women at a well? Threaten to stab them to death. It makes Moses unlikable.

The time spent in Median isn’t even that interesting. Exodus: Gods and Kings is 150 minutes in length, but you wouldn’t know that with its rushed plot points. Moses’s relationship with Tzipporah barely has time to grow naturally before they’re getting married. And while I don’t want to kink-shame, not even their romance is inspired. They basically have stilted conversations, then start making out.

The movie starts moving when Moses encounters God at The Burning Bush. Except…it’s not God, but a kid with an overly-restrained temperament. This is an interesting choice, but feels uninspired. The kid practically comes off as hostile and aggressive. Not to mention, that only Moses can see him makes their conversations look schizophrenic, which is something I’m not sure Scott intended.

God guilts Moses into returning to Egypt, but not before we get a running theme: don’t have faith simply because it’s expected. It’s cute, but it’s not followed through effectively. It feels preachy and dishonest. I know Scott has issues with religion, something many Jews would tell him isn’t a big deal, but his heavy-handed theistic politics never fully jive here. They also disrespect Moses as a character.

Once in Egypt, Exodus: Gods and Kings turns into Gladiator, complete with slaves being hanged in public, montages where slaves learn to fight, and guerrilla ambushes of Egyptians. It’s here where the film loses me briefly: what am I watching? Isn’t this supposed to be about The Exodus? Because it doesn’t feel that way.

Anyway, the film regains focus with the 10 plagues. Except these plagues follow the “scientific plague theory”, complete with an in-film scientist explaining how they make sense logically. Firstly, why? Ancient Egypt was a society of omens and gods, they wouldn’t use 21st Century science. And secondly, these plagues aren’t that inspired, consisting of events you’d see on The Discovery Channel and not something based on The Book of Exodus.

To its credit, the final plague is quite chilling. We even get a heartbreaking moment where Ramses cries while embracing his dead son. But it’s short-lived, as we need to get to the The Red Sea. It’s a tedious climax, goes on for too long, and is resolved with another “21st Century science” moment involving an asteroid and low tide. By this point, I’ve basically given up trying to question anything.

The finale returns Moses to Median for a reunion with his family, and we fast-forward to the end of his life. And then the movie ends. After 150 minutes, we’re done with this slog of an epic. Even Noah had more to say than this! That’s sad.

I get it: a traditional story about The Exodus isn’t only overdone, it also wouldn’t be appealing to modern, cynical audiences. But that’s no excuse for bare bones, uninspired storytelling. I’m not even saying that because I’m biased! It doesn’t do anything new or exciting with its material. Again, that’s sad.

I’m sure this movie has fans. It’s also not as bad as I remember. But that doesn’t exonerate it of its problems. Exodus: Gods and Kings is what anti-theists point to when they call Scripture “boring and lame”, and I don’t blame them. So while I spent $2.20, I still think you’re better off watching The Ten Commandments or The Prince of Egypt. You’ll thank me later.

Chag Sameach.

A Writer's Journey

Two Summers ago, I took a novel writing course. I thought it’d be fun to get an idea I had in my mind on paper. But looking back, I might’ve been too cocky in my writing capabilities. And with my skills sharpened in the years since, it’s time to revisit that.

Can I write a story? Well…kinda. It’s easy to second-guess my talents, and Imposter Syndrome’s real, but having a story to tell and knowing how to write it aren’t one-in-the-same. Or, rather, the latter ties with the former, but not the reverse. It’s weird saying that, as novels are stories, but you can have a story and not know how to tell it. Believe me, that’s an art on its own.

Writing requires patience. It demands setting aside time on something that may or may not be any good. You can’t devote a few minutes here and there to it, because that’s too easy. You need to chunk off time in your schedule, sit your keister down and do the work. It’s not gonna write itself!

That much I have down. I’m an anxious guy with OCD, so staying course on stuff I care about has never been a challenge. I usually churn out pieces for The Whitly-Verse in about 3-4 hours, sometimes quicker. So me devoting time to my stories is easy. 

What isn’t easy, however, is everything else. Let’s be clear: writing a novel is hard work. And it’s not always fun, either. You have to think about what you want to say. You have to decide how to say it, be it in a diary format, as a neutral observer, or a hybrid. And you have to understand the language of novel writing. I don’t mean “be fluent in a language”, either.

Perhaps this is best illustrated through something I didn’t grasp immediately: immersion. And by that, I’m referring to building a world by engaging the senses. It’s not enough to be visual, that’s basic and limiting. You need to hear, smell, touch and taste the worlds you create. It sounds strange, but here’s an example of how not to do that:

“He could see that she was in distress, and wanted to comfort her. But he couldn’t.”

That’s a lot more simplistic than:

“He could see the pain she was in, and the agony of her torture. Her eyes showed the intensity of the situation, and the way she whined and wailed made a chill crawl down his spine. The pheromones of fear filled the air, and the beads of sweat down her forehead were noticeable. She was paralyzed with fear, and he wanted to help. But he couldn’t, and he didn’t know why.”

That’s relatively basic, by the way. But it’s more effective because it engages the senses. It still has the visual component, but there’s also sound and feeling. Even smell is utilized.

I wish I’d known this going in. I spent so much time on my argumentative skills in high school and university, but I never actually grasped my novel writing skills. I could’ve taken a creative writing course in hindsight, as my alma mater offered them, but I was too busy trying to pass. In hindsight, that was a mistake.

This ties in with “being patient”. It’s not enough to say what happened, you also need to feel it. If I’d known that initially, I’d have gotten further and far fewer rejections from publishers, whom I arrogantly assumed would publish my rough and unpolished piece.

There’s another aspect I didn’t understand: I wasn’t ready. But how could I have known that? No one tells you that multiple drafts and rewrites are necessary for your piece to be ready for an agent, let-alone a publisher. And even then, it’s a struggle. That I naively thought this’d be a piece of cake was a red flag.

But that’s what happens. You need to experience heartache and rejection many times, or you’ll never get anywhere. And you need to not take it too personally. It’s like YouTube video essayist Movies With Mikey said: no one knows what they’re doing. It’s true.

There are other side-lessons that I should’ve known. Like how even with language being limiting, you still need to utilize it. Or how listening to marginalized groups is essential for honest storytelling, even if “their job isn’t to educate you”. Or how brushing criticism off in a rude manner is bad. Or even how, if all else fails, Google’s your friend.

This is stuff I wish I’d known. True, I had the basics down, like structure and story flow. However, utilizing senses and showing my writing? Not even close. Or when I did that, sometimes I’d overwrite, a problem I still face now.

So how did I combat my lack of knowledge? By educating myself. I signed up for Masterclass lessons with Margaret Atwood and Neil Gaiman. I read authors like Anne Lamott. I joined a group called “So You Want to Write?”, where I had my writing critiqued by strangers. I even signed up for 12-week classes with an agent and several other classmates. Most of this cost money, and I had to make sacrifices financially. But I did it, and I don’t regret it for a second.

This is all advice that 30 year-old me could’ve appreciated more. If the last two years taught me anything, it’s that I have potential to write stories. Maybe not be great ones, but it’s there. And if I can polish the skills I always suspected I had, but wasn’t sure were there, then everyone else can too.