Sugar Free Diet

Sugar Free Diet

 

Corn syrup, trans-fat--

What the hell is up with that?

What is the point of sugar free ice cream?

I would rather have the real thing.

 

What the hell is up with that?

Size six being the new fourteen?

I would rather have the real thing.

Beauty magazines don’t know shit about self-esteem.

                 

Size six is the new fourteen?

Straight As, politics, curing kids from disease,

Beauty magazines don’t know shit about self-esteem

Buy boobs, suck out fat, you’re not perfect yet.

 

Straight As, politics, curing kids from disease,

Why is it important that I eat sugar free ice cream?

Buy boobs, suck out fat, you’re not perfect yet,

Perfect enough for that man, who wouldn’t give a shit if you tanned.

 

Why is it important that I eat sugar free ice cream?

Can’t let the pain and anguish show, of perfecting perfection.

Perfect enough for that man, who wouldn’t give a shit if you tanned.

You can get through life without riot, just stick to your sugar free diet.

Dark Path

Dark Path

 

She grips onto the cold, steel bars

Reaching for freedom tastes so bitter

Like a cold winter sun that looks so warm and inviting

It nips at your skin the minute you step outside

She reaches for the bottom in a bottomless pit

Too stubborn to give up

Too frustrated to go on

She knows the shore is near

It keeps moving so far

Treading through rough seas

Tripping through treacherous roads

Darkness is all she sees

Hope is too dangerous to long for

Turqoise Sun

A golden sphere that bursts with laughter

Designer beige that soaks with turquoise

Flocks of feathers that soar like wind

Grains of dust that tickle like kisses on my feet

 

A bay of stones carry life and leisure

Like a stage of creation

Clappity clap on eight red legs

The fascination of a life so small

 

Diamonds shimmer in the night

The lunar light with eyes to sea

Roaring thunder invades the shore

Though night is clear with a steady drumbeat

 

A citrus morning welcomes me home

Plate filled with gold like the sun

Maple arousing hunger and desire

A steady drumbeat lingers

Her

Thirteen Ways to Describe Her

 

I.

A smile, a laugh

Cheeks chubby like marshmallows

This is her when she’s happy.

 

II.

A melody echoes

A joke that knocks

This is her when she’s silly.

 

III.

Gale force winds

A down pour rain

This is her when she’s grumpy.

 

IV.

A crash and a rumble

Excitement in her screech

This is her when she’s having fun.

 

V.

Pink and frilly

Tippy toes and tiaras

This is her as a ballerina.

 

VI.

Lost and lonely

A stuffed friend not found

This is her sad.

 

VII.

A sweet one

A sweet heart

This is her when she’s sweet.

 

VIII.

Blush and eye shadow

A fear to be had

This is her growing up.

 

IX.

Feisty and strong

Outspoken and loud

This is her strength.

 

X.

Rolling like the sea

Her soft whispers come to a silence

This is her sleeping.

 

XI.

Small arms stretch

A big heart swells

This is her when she hugs me.

 

XII.

Ready or not

Here she comes

This is her and her sister

 

XIII

I heart you

You heart me

This is her loved by her mommy.

A Story Idea

Introduction

Genetically modified organisms is what got this whole damn world in the mess it's in right now. Since the beginning of GMO, human resources have resulted into food options that eventualy limited their mobility, raised obesity, and even increased the rate of depression among human beings. Once everyone began to realize that this food was causing so many health issues, it became clear that they had to stop eating processes foods all together and start growing their own. A majority of humans converted to being strict vegetarians and grew their own gardens. Others, unfortunately, developed a different taste for protein and began eating each other, rather than hunt for animals. They figure the best way to prevent food corporations from gaining profit was to start an organization that allowed cannibalism.

It was a combination of PETA meets Chainsaw massacre, only they didn't violently attack innocent people with chainsaws—not at first. What they did was dissect the people who died of heart disease, diabetes, and what-not, cut away their fat that they fed to their dogs, and eat the rest. What people didn't understand was the the GMO food that was already digested from their new-found resources, was that it continues to mutate if consumed a second time. This started a chain of problems.

Once the mutation started, people could no longer wait for the others to die. It all started with nibbling on their fingers, and eventually their necks. Eventually their bites became deadly and began a stream of zombie-like apacolypse for the human race. The only difference is, no one is undead, they just have a hunger for people living and breathing. And the only people living and breathing who aren't affected by the GMO foods are the vegetarians.

I'm one of the lucky few who haven't been affected, nor will I ever. I'm a hunter—a survivalist. I live off the land and I refuse to buy from the grocery store. And because I have the ability to hunt and gather, I've become stronger, faster, I have developed more endurance than any person who buys their food, and my attention span is better. Since the cannibals began eating all the vegetarians, there has been more vegetation for herbivores to eat which leaves more herbivores for carnivorous creatures to eat. The animal population has, in fact, tripled since the beginning of this apocolypse, and what the humans fail to realize is that the more they eat one another, the less of them there will be, which will eventually lead the animal kingdom to completely take over.

Since the apocalypse began, I've uprooted myself and my son from the rural farmlands of Puyallup and into the foothills of the Cascades. We have built a cabin near a creek that provides us with enough water, surrounded by berry bushes, and enough deer and raccoons we can catch and eat. We've managed to live here for the last seven years without much trouble. We have had our run-ins with both the vegetarians and the cannibals. Neither had the human capacity to negotiate. The vegetarians are in the mindset of surviving, while the cannibals are in the mindset of eating. And because they're both still quite human (they simply lack the human capacity to connect with their emotions) killing them would be murder. Because surviving is what I'm an expert at doing, my goal isn't to survive. My goal is to live.

The Art of Tiffany Favrile Glass

                 Louis Comfort Tiffany’s invention of Favrile glass revolutionized decorative art and through it, he made beauty easily obtainable. Responding to J. Alden Weir's toast, at the exhibition, breakfast and masque, Mr. Tiffany made a statement in his address: “Thirteenth Century stained glass makers were great because they saw and reproduced beauty from the skies and stars; the gems and rugs; they translated beauty into the speech of stained glass.” ¹ Louis C. Tiffany had gained a reputation as New York’s most fashionable decorators and it is said that he bridged the gap between 19^th Century eclecticism and modern art.² From 1870 to 1880, there was high demand for decorative art once America reached industrial and commercial expansion.

Having decorative art enhanced the homes of the wealthy and they soon became the tastemakers of the nation. The United States grew a strong dependence on European inspired trends. However, it was brought to attention during the Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition in 1876 that the United States “lacked fine art”. Soon after, wealthy Americans began to purchase more American art, and it is said that it was, “Attributed to the creative artists who were challenged by home decoration as a serious and worthwhile discipline.” Thus the Associated Artists emerged in 1879 and it was created by the partnership of Louis Comfort Tiffany (1848-1933), Samuel Colman (1832-1920), Lockwood de Forest (1850-1932), and Candace Thurber Wheeler (1828-1923).³

As a cadet at Eagleswood Military Academy, Louis C. Tiffany connected with painting instructors George Inness and James Steele MacKay. MacKay assisted in securing individual commissions for Tiffany and introduced him to Oscar Wilde. In his interaction with Wilde, Tiffany became influenced by the British Aesthetic Movement, which transformed decorative arts in America.⁴ His earliest and most recognizable achievement in decorative art was the invention of Favrile glass. His technique of Favrile glass surpasses Venetian and Bohemian glass. In The Source of Beauty in Favrile Glass by James Lee Harvey it states, “The Old World product is eclipsed by this New World claimant of public favor.” ⁵ Favrile glass was a brilliant, iridescent colors Tiffany used to design ornate mosaics, and illuminate the extraordinary colors of glass through natural sunlight and Edison's invention of the light bulb for his lamps. Favrile stems from the technique that a skilled glassworker from England named Arthur Nash used to blend colors together. Tiffany began using his furnace to develop this method to blend the colors into a molten state with subtle shades of texture. Tiffany and Arthur Nash later built a glasshouse in Corona, Queens, New York and with his furnaces developed the method. Recalling the Old English word fabrile (hand-wrought), Tiffany named the blown glass from his furnaces Favrile. The use of Favrile glass provided Tiffany with a signature style.

His technique of Favrile glass art is significant in his piece, “Landscape with a Greek Temple” [figure 1] because of the use of blended colors. This glass art was designed for the Howell Hinds House in 1898 and 1899. Unframed, the size of this stained glass painting is 227.3 x 114.3 in centimeters. Tiffany uses a lot of heavy, dark colors to create the molten state of blended colors in the green textures. Tiffany also uses a technique of opalescent textured glass for “drapery glass” in “Landscape.” He uses opalescent glass to capture the lush, beauty of nature allow this landscape painting of glass to become remarkably descriptive.

 

 

 

Tiffany controls the sunlight through the window by using light pastel colors of blue and yellow for the sky. He’s able to capture the natural sunlight in order to acquire movement within the landscape. He also uses a “confetti glass” in the left portion of the portrait that captivates the pastel color palate that immediately draws the eye. The use of these pastel towards the roses. The light casts upon the staircase that leads into the garden. The heavy textures on the trees help capture the shadow effect from the sunset, creating the illusion of sunlight within the painting. In the far distance, the tip of the greek temple peaks over the horizon to create an exotic feel to the painting. With the inclusion of a Greek Temple, there is a sense of tempering the grandiose exotic and elaborate motifs. Tiffany spent a lot of time traveling in Europe and the inclusion of the Greek Temple could have been inspired by his trip to Europe, but he also captures the essence of that exotic art and beauty that was once desired by American collectors, by including the temple.

Tiffany captures the essence of movement and time in this portrait and presents it as a challenge he was capable of overcoming. One could imagine that as the sun sets through the window itself, the portrait captures the sunset, as well as the sunrise. In designing this piece, Tiffany states, “This invention consists in the combination, in a colored glass window, of a mosaic of opalescent glass with a mosaic of colored glass, the two mosaics of sections being separated by an intervening air-spare, so as to permit of the free passage of the rays of light through one mosaic before it passes to and through the other mosaic."⁶ He does create and design the temple and the pillars suitable to his own time and place to create a soft harmonious atmosphere that is appropriate to family living.

Tiffany's stained glass inspired a sense of harmony and feeling in a room. Stained glass in America up to that time was generally of poor color and quality. Tiffany’s Favrile glass medium raises the level of stained glass art. His aim in creating stained-glass art was to create a “thing of beauty” and to draw attention towards color and light. In early 1879, stained glass windows grew into a popular trend that was often displayed in store windows and apartments. Today, stained glass windows have been installed in Bloomsburg State College and it is said that the presents of Tiffany’s stained-glass windows help create a tranquil affect and changed the attitude of students on campus.⁷ Is the same tranquil affect be captured on a much smaller scale?
It is shown in many of his work over the years that his passion was focused more on the discovery of new art, rather than the application of it. There is no doubt, however, that a majority of Tiffany's works of art are utilitarian.⁸ To class the exquisite pieces into which favrile glass is manufactured with utilitarian products, Tiffany designed and created these two Wisteria Tiffany lamps [figure 2]. Not only was Tiffany a great artist, he had a good mind for business. Which is why it would not be surprising to learn that the creation and design of the Tiffany lamps were inspired by Thomas Edison's invention of the incandescent light bulb in 1879. His invention inspired artists to rethink the lamp design, and Tiffany, “capitalized on his brilliance to illuminate extraordinary colors of glass, mobilizing it and shrinking the stained glass art to smaller scale.” ⁹

Tiffany designed between 1902 and 1918, two table-top Wisteria Tiffany lamps. Sitting at 27 inches and 16 inches, these two lamps display a blended colors created in the Favrile glass technique. The use of “confetti glass” and Tiffany doesn’t use the molten state affect as heavily as he did with the landscape piece. The small branches that curve out from the top of the shade is the only hint of colors that are blended and molten. Like the stained glass window, the lamp shade is put together, piece-by-piece in order to give it more intricate details in the floral design. The opalescent colors are similar in the way they are used in “Landscape with a Greek Temple.” The yellows and the blues are the light pastel colors controls where the light shines through, and creates soft calming hues of purple and blue that project a sense of a calm, tranquil atmosphere. The base of the lamps are ceramic and are designed into very finely detailed tree trunks where the roots of the trees stretch around the base. Tiffany's signature of favrile glass and his use of “drapery” glass makes his lamps more dramatic and captivates movement, as if the floral cascades were moving in a breeze.

Tiffany, and Associated Artists pioneered designs for the industry. Medieval methods were considered inadequate and in some cases out of date, and didn’t really allow room for Tiffany to express the character of his culture. His introduction of American glass art provides that sense of domestic artistry that Americans had so little of during the early twentieth century. Borrowing from the orient, Turkish and Indian sources, he was able to incorporate his innovative technique of Favrile glass and foreign art and turn it in to American glass art. Rather than try to copy a design from European historical styles, Tiffany wanted to adapt and evolve American styles in his attempt to create harmonious decorative art that merged “appropriateness and individuality.”¹⁰

The “Landscape with a Greek Temple” and the “Wisteria Lamps” are just two examples of how Louis C. Tiffany has raised the level of decorative art to a higher level. We could argue that contemporary artists like Chihuly have been able to tame and evolve the vision of glass art, but Tiffany has been able to obtain the beauty of glass art through Favrile glass and it will forever be a treasure of America. Favrile glass was a long stride in progress when Tiffany first began using it, but it would without a doubt remain the most beautiful curiosities of the art industries without the cleverness and perfection of Tiffany.¹¹

1 Louis C. Tiffany, “Art: The Quest of Beauty,” The Lotus Magazine, no. 6, (1916): 286.

2 Stuart P. Feld, "Nature in Her Most Seductive Aspects: Louis Comfort Tiffany's Favrile Glass,” The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, No. 3 (1962) :112

3 Wilson H. Faude, “Associated Artists and the American Renaissance in the Decorative Arts,” Winterthur Portfolio, Vol. 10 (1975): 101

4 Doreen Bolger Burke, “Louis Comfort Tiffany and His Early Training at Eagleswood, 1862-1865,” American Art Journal, No. 9(1987): 31-32.

5 James L. Harvey, “Source of Beauty in Favrile Glass,” Brush and Pencil, No. 3 (1901): 167

6 Judith Saks, “Tiffany's Household Decoration: A Landscape Window,” The Bulletin of the Cleveland Museum of Art, No. 8 (1976): 233.

7 Brenda Friday, “A Tale of Tiffany Windows,” American Libraries, No. 11 (1981): 673.

8 James L. Harvey, “Source of Beauty in Favrile Glass”, Brush and Pencil, No. 3 (1901): 168.

9 Frances K. Pohl, “Work and Art Redefined: The End of a Century: Art, Architecture, and the World's Columbian Exposition,” Framing America, 3^rd Edition: 310.

10 Wilson H. Faude, “Associated Artists and the American Renaissance in the Decorative Arts,” Winterthur Portfolio, Vol. 10 (1975):102-104

11 James L. Harvey, “Source of Beauty in Favrile Glass,” Brush and Pencil, No. 3 (1901): 168.

Update

Friday

Woke up and saw that I got my financial aid and got a little happy.  Had a morning meeting with work, took down some notes, prepared myself for a busy weekend.  Went to University Bookstore to get my books for school.  I’m excited about taking my classes this quarter.  Rap Culture, Art in the Americas, and Film Studies.  Also taking a business management course that will connect me with organizations around Tacoma. 

Did a little shopping and got some toiletries that were badly needed.  Came home, got some more work done.  Spent the evening with my girls and watched a movie, Center Stage.  Had flashbacks of being in ballet with the arousing sound of the piano as the dancers warmed up at the bars.  Makes me want to dance again.

Saturday

Went grocery shopping, did some laundry, got some work done and ate a croissant ham sandwich for lunch.  Went to the mall to use my dad’s gift certificate he gave me for Christmas on a pedicure.  Got a new pair of grey knee-high boots, a couple tops and a pair of earrings.  Came home, spent another evening with my girls.  Watched an episode of Dexter. 

Today

 

Woke up, had another meeting with content providers at work.  Got ready for church.  Discovered that the van wasn’t starting so my mom had to come pick Laura, Emmy and myself up.  Came home, watched Superman II, gave Laura a hard time for blushing when Superman smiles at her at the end.  Had my mom  come get Laura and Emmy so I could get some work done.  Finally got the van started, finished three hours of work.  Went to the store to get dinner, ended up getting chips.  Came home, finally took down the Christmas tree, vacuumed up the living room.  Girls came home, I gave them a bath, made their beds, folded the laundry and started a load for Laura’s pants tomorrow. 

Now I’m blogging about my day and trying not to cry over the fact that my girls might be living two hours away from me. 

Invasion of the Body Snatchers Essay

It was Jodi Dean who stated, “Narratives of abduction and conspiracy are uniquely influential in the current technological context, a context where information travels at the speed of light and everything is entertainment.”  She goes on to say, “Narratives of abduction reconfigure the present’s acceptance of passivity, suspicion, paranoia, and loss, as themselves, forms of action.”  Invasion of the Body Snatchers captivates this statement well.  It’s entertaining, it’s had two remakes, and it does display that element that conspiracy thrillers often portray.  The narrative of abduction in Invasion also covers every emotional element that combines conspiracy with gothic as well.  Between paranoia and the forbidden desires of the characters, it’s easy to argue that Invasion is a conspiracy thriller that brought to surface the issues the country had been facing through the original and the remakes.

                According to the US Census Bureau, the divorce rate of the United States hit an all-time high of 2.5 per thousand eligible citizens between the year 1950-1954. Glenda Riley reports that it rose most noticeably after World War II.  When soldiers returned home, marriages couldn’t with-stand the pressure of war-time stress and many marriages failed.  Some would say the World War II and the Korean War took a toll on institutional marriage.  Because it was very evident in a lot of American Cinema, through the elements of femme fatale, that women had taken over the role of their husbands while they were deployed and fighting the war; it was no surprise that marriages were threatened and losing to the battles of post-war households. 

                Siegel’s Invasion of the Body Snatchers was, in a sense, a satire on how the institution was threatened and also expressed fear and distrust of the dehumanizing and debilitating force of 1950s middle-class marriage and domesticity.  Because women were beginning to work outside the home and getting divorced, Invasion provided these pods that would dehumanize people of Santa Mira, which maintained stability and lack of emotion.  The two main characters, Becky Driscoll and town doctor, Miles Bennell, fall into a post-divorce romance as they team up to figure out the mystery of the disappearances of their neighbors and friends.  It is suggested in the beginning of the film that they are divorced when they talk about being in Reno.  Just like Johnny Cash and June Carter sang about going to Jackson, Mississippi to get married, it’s apparent that Reno was the place to get divorced. 

                When Becky and Miles part ways at Becky’s father’s hardware store, notice in the background the display in the window of household items such as coffee pots, flint-ware pots and pans, and a foreshadowing of events to come with the slip in of the bug spray, and how it sets these two characters up to be obviously different from the rest of the town already.  Becky is first introduced to us wearing a sleeveless dress with sparkling earrings, looking like she’s going out for a night on the town.  She’s best described as the Gothic heroine.  Elements that support this are; the consuming force, the inborn curse or innate flaw, the loss of self within traditional social relationships-and they terrorize Becky.

                Her role as the Gothic heroine develops more in the film as she teams up with Brenner to help solve the mystery of their friends and neighbor’s mysterious transformation from being human to becoming a vegetable.  Throughout the film, both Miles and Becky also develop symptoms of agency panic.  They’re paranoid about the changing town around them, they know people are being replaced by these pods of duplicates being planted around town and yet in the end the psychiatrists don’t believe Dr. Bennel’s story.    Jodi Dean states, “Taking [abductees] seriously, trusting the words of everyday people, now means allowing for the truth of alien abduction.”  Though at the end of invasion a police officer reports the same findings Dr. Bennel just described to the psychiatrist, we do not see how it plays out.  The movie cuts and ends at that very moment.  So the viewers are left wondering what will happen next.

                Actor Kevin McCarthy who played Miles Bennel in the 1956 film, makes a cameo appearance in the 1978 remake.  In the moment Donald Sutherland and Brooke Adams are driving through San Francisco, Dr. Miles Bennel stumbles upon the car, screaming, “They’re coming!”  before staggering down the street and getting killed.   In this remake of Invasion, not only do we encounter the fate of the character from the previous film, but the story continues with Elizabeth Driscoll and Matthew Bennel.  They act as descendents of the original characters, carrying on their curse and inheriting the same symptoms of agency panic as the story continues to be told through them.  Elizabeth Driscoll also has a more active role in society as she works as a research analyst for the Department of Health and Services.  Rather than being divorced and living under the care of her father, she’s living out of wedlock with her boyfriend, Geoffrey. 

In the beginning of the remake, there is footage of floating molecules almost looking like different strands of genetic codes and DNA.  A wistful sound hushes among the floating particles and in the background there is the view of a planet.  This scene is almost a metaphor of the reproductive process as it looks like sperm meeting the egg; the Earth being the egg.  With this transition to planet Earth, the small plant pods attach themselves to trees, plants and grass, a very subtle invasion that happens without notice.  Again, suggestions of an American gothic can be applied to the remake as the painted ladies serve as the mansion that supposed to fulfill the gothic stage.  The elements of American gothic are projected on the characters.

Elizabeth is a key character in this film because she helps illustrate the lack of domesticity that women had during the 1970s because of Women’s Liberation.  In the original Becky is every domesticated and exudes the image of a television house wife like June Cleaver.  Even though she and Dr. Bennel weren’t married, in the scene at his house, they are both playing house and pretending to be married while she cooks for him.  In the 1978 version, Matthew Bennel is the one cooking for Elizabeth when she comes over to tell him about Geoffrey.  Yet he lures her into helping him cook dinner by assigning her to chop onions.  This plays on the overall aspect of the film where the invasion is trying to sustain human, marital behavior between a man and woman.  Jennifer Jenkins stated, “Invasion of the Body Snatchers both maintain the subtext of marriage and divorce as part of the Gothic apparatus of the film narratives.”  The roles in which Elizabeth and Matthew play in the film, portray of what the rest of society saw as a threat to marriage.  Living out of wedlock was growing more and more popular.  Dr. David Kibner [Nemoy] states, “People are stepping in and out of relationships too fast because they don’t want the responsibility.”  He goes on to say, “That’s why marriages are going to hell—the whole family unit is shot to hell.”  As we follow Dr. Kibner and Elizabeth as he continues his session with her, they stop in front of a display window of a furniture store.  Much like the display window in the original 1956, this gestures towards how the invasion of the plants that are trying to stabilize a sense of domesticity.  The dining set in the window is supposedly set up for a family, which supports Dr. Kibner’s argument earlier in the conversation when he stated that the family unit was shot to hell.  An empty dining set illustrates what he means.

                Because Elizabeth and Miles are involved in a romance that is based off infidelity, they pose as the reason for the invasion.  Elizabeth especially displays the symptoms of agency panic as she feels the entire city has changed overnight, and everywhere she runs people seem to be watching her, keeping an eye on her.  It’s as if they know she’s been unfaithful to her boyfriend or inhabits strong feelings for her co-worker, Matthew Bennel.  When Dr. Kipner finally captures her and Miles in the lab, with the help of her boyfriend Geoffrey, the strong connection Miles and Elizabeth share almost pose as a threat to the invaders as they try to put a stop to it. 

                The moment Elizabeth is changed at the end of the film could refer to the Mary Ann Doane article where it talks about The Stepford Wives and it states, “The Stepford Wives indicates a loss of the obsessive force of the signifying matrix of the machine-woman-as though its very banalisation could convince that there is no real threat involved, no reason for anxiety.”  As Dr. Kipner proposes as he’s giving her the drug, “Born into an untroubled world free of anxiety, fear, hate.”  As a side note he indicates that love no longer exists either.  And in the end, Elizabeth does become like one of the Stepford Wives, but only in a sense that she has no feelings.

                What’s ironic about the film is that the pods are planted all over the city and serve as a vehicle for people to be reborn and live a life without disruption or war.  Everything points to this phenomena, the fetal heartbeat heard over the digetic sound, the pods themselves are in the shape of a uterus, and the flowers blooming gesture towards the beginning of a new life.  Even when the two main characters are constantly running and hiding from the pods, the fact that they are constantly thirsty and drinking water points to a life reborn because water brings life. The ironic part is the dead skin, the bagpipes playing Amazing Grace at the ship scene, and the fact that all the bodies are being “disposed” through the garbage trucks, suggests the end of life.  The pods and the replicas of these humans aren’t performing a rebirth of the human population; they are driving it to extinction.    

                As a conspiracy thriller, the film gestures towards the fact that this California gothic addresses the beginning of industrialization and the end of an empire and the rise of the middle class.  In each film and remake, the city grows bigger and population affected is larger.  In the original film, the conspiracy seemed to be that the plants were taking over the small town of Santa Mira because the divorce rate was so high, and the pods were sent to stabilize the institution of marriage.  In the remake, the conspiracy was the same target, only this time it was on preserving the idea of settling down, rather than jumping from one relationship to the next as Elizabeth does in the film. 

                In conclusion, I discovered that both films run with a similar theme to Stepford Wives and in some aspects Coma.  There seems to be this underlying fear from those in higher power of change and a lot of it points to the fear of these feminist movements and how women have been able to gain equilibrium.  In both the original and the remake, there was also the older male who seemed to dominate and recruit the younger male population.  In the 1978 version, Dr. Kipner recruits both Geoffrey and Jack (Jeff Goldblum) in an effort to get Matthew and Elizabeth to give in to the invasion.  Also the tower of the church that shows up behind Matthew, also indicates how Church and State are collusive in keeping women down.

                So perhaps the film’s portrayal of a plant invasion, is a subtle reference to the agency panic that society feels towards the revolution of relationships among marriage and the family unit.  It was a threat.  And in a sense, it is true.  Marriage has gone to hell in the last thirty years and the family unit isn’t doing so great anymore either.  So while the invasion might serve to prevent distress from happening among humanity, it also is another symbol of an emotional and mental apocalypse and it isn’t just the sanctity of marriage at risk, it’s the sanctity of life.

Second Shift Continued

Present time… 

The chapel is filled with people dressed in black.  The lull of sad organ music plays at the front of the chapel, filtering out the whimpering and the sobs from people who admired and loved this man.  It’s standing room only and I’m squeezed shoulder to shoulder between Nick and another gentleman wearing a Boondock Saints t-shirt.  I can tell by his posture he doesn’t want to be here.  Honestly, I don’t know why I’m here either, except to meet my mom for the first time in over twenty years.

My gaze reaches over the sea of heads, straining my eyes to the front row of the chapel.   There are two women sitting near the aisle.  A veiled hat covers one, her blonde hair bundled up beneath.  The other’s blonde hair wisps perfectly down her back and over her shoulders, perfectly straight.  Two younger boys, probably teenagers, sit in their black suits.  Down in front on stage is a shrine devoted to the mayor of Aberdeen, Washington.  A photo of him is surrounded by flowers and candles.  It’s a headshot of him, blonde haired, blue eyes, a carefree smile, with patriotic highlights of him in a red polo shirt with a blue background.  He must’ve been in college when the photo was taken.  This was a man I once called father.  A man who for five years I thought was my father. 

“Are you doing okay?”

A gentle hand cusps mine and a warm shiver climbs up my spine.  I gaze up into Nick’s eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I say.

 

A priest approaches the podium and the crowd goes silent.  He begins his sermon and speaks poetically through God about this man, Richard Hanson.  He was a devoted husband and loving father.  He was loved by his congregation as a pastor, and adored by the people in the city as mayor.  If I hadn’t known the truth, I would believe every single word the priest was saying about him.  I just stood there, looking away every time kind words were spoken about my supposed step-father.   It was like a dagger to the heart.  This man who was so good was so cruel to me.  How could he be the same person everyone thought they knew?  Or perhaps, I just never knew the person everyone else knew.

Throughout the sermon, people are open to speak about Richard Hanson, and share their fondest memory.  Co-workers, colleagues, members of commerce all share their stories.  After a firefighter finishes sharing his moving story about how Richard Hanson honored them during the 9/11 attacks in 2001, the woman with long blonde hair sitting the front gets up to speak.    The woman in the hat has yet to get up to say anything.  She wipes her tears with stiff tissue and waits for the younger blonde to speak.

“I miss you dad,” she starts. “You were always there for me.  You taught me how to ride a bike and fish.”

                People in the crowd start sniffling as she talks about her dad.  She speaks of fishing, camping, road trips and college while her dad was alive.  As I stand here, squeezed between the possible love of my life, and some guy with a growing bad odor, a flood of memories come rushing through, with this blonde woman.  Her name is Ashley.  And as I look at her now, I only know her as my half-sister, but she was once my sister.

                I was four years old when my mom had her.  She came home from the hospital and I was happy to have a sister; A possible friend.   We had tea parties, played dress up, fight over the Atari Donkey Kong game and ride our bikes in the driveway during the summer.  We’d have fun at the wading pool and I’d share with her the books I brought home from the school library to read when I was in kindergarten.  Up until Richard Hanson discovered what I was, she and I were close.  She knew what I was before I even understood it.  As a child there is no question or voice of reason as to why something is what it is and why people are what they are.  She accepted me and she loved me for what I was.  Whenever she got sick, I’d keep her spirits up by shifting into her favorite animals.  I’d go through our encyclopedia and pick out animals from the pages and shift into something cool like a monkey or a parrot.  She would always get a kick out of it.  It helped her feel better.                  I don’t even know if she remembers me or if they brain washed her into thinking I was a figment of her imagination. 

               

                When the ceremony is over, everyone is invited to Jolene’s house for the reception.  Her house is perched up on the hillside, overlooking the small town of Aberdeen.  I stand on the back porch, staring off into the distance.  I think about the stories I heard and compare them to my own tragic childhood. 

                I feel a kiss on my neck and a glass of champagne is offered to me. 

                “I thought you could use one,” Nick says to me.  I beam at him.

                “You read my mind.”

                Having Nick here brings me comfort.  With his handsome smile, his soft soothing voice and his tender arms, he is my life raft.

                “You doing okay?” He asks. 

                “I’m fine,” I say.

                “Your step-dad sounds like he was a good guy.”

                I shrug.  I forget that Nick doesn’t know the whole truth.  He only knows that my real dad, Duane, was given custody of me in Astoria, Oregon, because I was having trouble with bullies.  Which is partially true.  Kids did pick on me.  Two kids in particular were Dennis and Sasha Chambers.  Fraternal twins.  Sasha had it out for me from the beginning, before I even went to school.  She would bully me on the playground, throw rocks at me, called me names and even turn the rest of the girls against me.  I had no friends.  Dennis always took my lunch and started the whole cooties rumor. 

                After a while I got tired of being scared and instead I would disappear into the woods during recess and hide out up in the tree as a squirrel or raccoon.  It was my escape from the other kids who just wanted to harm me. 

                “Are you still gonna try to talk to your mom?”

                Nick snaps me out of my memories.  I force a smile at him. 

                “I want to,” I begin to pace back and forth on the porch. “I’m just really nervous.  What if she doesn’t recognize me?”

                “There’s only one way to find out,” Nick says.

                He stops me in my tracks and holds me close by the shoulders. A tremor runs through me with his deep brown eyes gazed upon me.  They’re longing and full of desire.  It’s been a month since Nick and I started seeing one another, but we have yet to consummate our relationship.  Though we both want it.  Every time I look into his eyes I can see the desire burning just as my own desire burns for him.  Every time he touches me or looks at me, that burning desire is unending.  I slither my arms around his shoulders and pull him close.  His gentle lips are soft and comforting.  His gentle, strong hands pull me close as they caress through the fabric of my dress.  He runs his fingers through the tight strands of my bundled hair.  This is all I want right now. 

                “Come on,” he says. “I’ll be right beside you.”   

His gaze captures mine and it calms me.  I nod quickly and he leads me into the house.  The place is crowded and surrounded by people sniffling and talking in a quiet whisper about Mr. Hanson.  It’s difficult to maneuver through the crowd as I hold on tight to Nick’s hand.  I’m searching through the crowd for my mom, but I don’t see her.

                 “Shelly?”

                The sound of my name forces us to stop.  I turn and I see the heavy-set man at the funeral, still wearing the Boondock Saints t-shirt.    He comes stumbling towards me with a large bottle of wine in his hand.

                “I thought that was you..  Damn!  You are looking good!”

                I suddenly feel uncomfortable.  Politely, Nick and I try to sneak away among the crowd, but this man is quick, he’s able to stop us.  He tugs me by the arm.

                “It’s me, Dennis Chambers.  Remember?  From Stevens Elementary?”

                “Wow!” I force myself. “Look at you!”

                His laughter is infectious as he hisses it out.  His chin jiggles and his eyes disappear in the squint of his laughter. 

                “I know,” he jabs me on the shoulder. “I’m still as good looking as I was in high school.”

                I just stand there, at a loss for words.  People are glaring at us as he laughs, looking at us as if we just let off a stink bomb.  This feels like a high school reunion even though I never went to high school with him.

                “Sasha!” He waves across the room. “Look who I found!”

                I look over to see her waving back and pushing her way through the crowd.  I instinctively pull Nick closer to me, he drapes his arm over my shoulder.  Sasha looks the same as she did when we were in kindergarten.  She still has the long brown hair and the snooty look on her face.  She shows up in a black leather jacket, underneath is a laced up tank top with a pair of blue jeans.  She’s holding a glass of champagne and her eyes widen when she sees me.  As if we were long lost friends, she wraps her arms around me.

                “Oh, Shelly, it’s so good to see you!”

                I can’t say anything.  I’m too stunned to even respond.  Without even giving me much more time, Sasha instantly grabs me by the arm and pulls me through the house.

“You know I just saw your mom.  You should totally say hi to her!”

I shake my head in protest, not ready for this now.  I can’t face her.  Not when everyone is already looking at me.  Sasha forces me out of the comfort of Nick’s arm.

“I can’t right now,” I try to fight.

“What do you mean?  She’d be thrilled to see you came!”

I look behind me to see Nick shadowing.  Sasha drags me through this colonial house.  People stop and stare at me, whispering to one another.  Sasha drags me to the dining room where my mom, Jolene, is collecting food on her plate and speaking with the priest. 

“Look who we found Mrs. Hanson?”

Sasha literally shoves me at the throws of my mother.  She looks at me, stunned.  My half-sister, Ashley, is standing next to her in the buffet line, looking between my mother and I with a puzzled look on her face. 

“Shelly?”  My mother says.

Ashley whips her gaze at me, eyes widen, jaw dropped.  Trembling with anxiety I search for my words. 

“M-mom?”

The very word sends a hush throughout the entire house.  People standing in the buffet line stop and stare at me.  I can see the thought bubbles over their heads.  I recognize the priest up close.  A flashback of him sprinkling holy water on me and quoting Bible verses comes to mind.  He’s the one my mom called upon to have me exorcised.  She thought I was processed by a demon because of my ability to shift.  I’m suddenly frightened that they might say something in front of Nick. 

“I thought it’d be nice if the two of you said hi to one another,” Sasha says.

“Thank you Sasha.”

Jolene is very brisk.

“And thank you both for coming to show your support.  Please, have some refreshments.”  Sasha and Dennis pause a moment, as if they are waiting to see what happens before moving out of the dining room. 

I look at Nick.  My eyes are pleading, his sympathetic gaze hovers over me.  I look at my mom.  She’s very stiff and very cold.  Not a single warm smile or any indication that she’s happy to see me.

“Thank you for coming, Shelly.  I appreciate your support.”

“Shelly?” Ashley finally says. “Isn’t she the one that you-“

“Not now Ashley!” Mother hisses.  She looks back at me. “If you will excuse me, Shelly, I have other guests to tend to.”

She swiftly nods her head.

“Come along, Ashley.”

“But it’s Shelly,” Ashley begins.

“Come on!” Jolene demands.  She and Ashley head out of the dining area.  The priest lingers behind, looking at me with that observant gaze before following her lead.  I can feel my heart drop to the pit of my stomach as I remain standing there, frozen with humiliation. 

“That went well, didn’t it?” I say to Nick.

He places a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Do you want to leave?”

I do want to leave, but the thought of leaving and not having any kind of closure or understanding with my mom would drive me crazy.  I know it! 

“We can stay if you want,” Nick adds.  “Whatever you decide.”

 

The crowd dies down and with just the caterers and the remaining funeral party left, Nick and I sit in the living room as I wait for my chance to finally confront my mother.  She comes traipsing through the livingroom, cleaning up after the guests.  I stand to attention.

“Mom?”

She shoots me a disgruntled look.

“What are you still doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

She shakes her head at me.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

My lips begin to tremble again, and I can feel my hands shaking. 

“Mrs. Hanson, my name is Nicholas Thorton and I would like to give you my condolences.”

Jolene forces a smile.

“Thank you, young man, I appreciate that.”

“He sounded like a good man.”

She sighs, dropping the garbage bag to her side.

“He was.  The best I’ve ever known in my life.”

She glares at me.

“I won’t let anything ruin that.”

Ashley comes in to see that I’m still here.  She’s lost and confused.

“Mom, what’s going on in here?”

Jolene calms herself.

“Say hello to our guests.  Shelly and Mr. Thorton.”

  Ashley smiles and nods. 

“Yes, Shelly!  I can’t believe it’s you, after all this time!“

She reaches for my hand, but Jolene quickly intervenes.

“If you two don’t mind I would like to speak with Shelly alone, in the office.”

Nick nods, respectfully.

“Of course,” he says.

Jolene leads me to the main foyer and down a narrow hall along the stairs where there’s an office tucked in the back of the house.  It’s a typical office, covered in book cases with a desk in the center with a window behind it.  Jolene takes a seat at her desk.   Her eyes stare up at me.  They’re blue and swollen with emotional pain.  I almost feel sorry for her. 

“Does he know?” She finally says.

I act dumb.

“Does he know what?”

Jolene huffs and sits up in her chair, leaning over the desk.

“Does he know what you are?”

Like I said, I almost feel sorry for her.

“No, he doesn’t know.  What does that matter?”

“You might want to tell him before it’s too late for you too.  Before you are forced to give up a child.”

“You didn’t have to give me up.”

She gets up from her chair, walking around the desk towards me.

“Yes, I did.  You see, I was the pastor’s wife.  A pastor who was running for mayor. I couldn’t risk people finding out what you were; that you weren’t even my husband’s daughter.  They would have started to question the fraternity of Ashley.    I had no choice.”

“So you had to protect your identity,” I say. “I understand that, but you didn’t have to ditch me the way you did.”

I stumble, my voice shaking.  I’m fighting the tears, but I can’t win.

“You didn’t give me a hug, you didn’t kiss me, you didn’t even say good bye.  You just dropped me off in some strange man’s lawn and left.  Do you know how traumatic that was for me? “

Jolene turns away, walking back behind the desk, staring out the window. 

“It was the easiest way to let go.”

“And then I try to reach out to you, but you never replied.  I wrote letters, sent emails and even sent you a friends request on Facebook.  I get nothing.”

There’s a long pause.  Jolene’s breath is shallow and stressed.  I can’t predict what will come.

“I was ashamed of you, that’s why.  Ashamed that I had a monster for a daughter.”

I shake my head, thinking about my life and about how evil I might actually be. 

“I’m no monster, mom.”

“Please do not call me that!” She shouts. “I am not your mother!  I never was!  If anything, having you was a mistake I wish I never made!”

The very words cut me like a knife.  There’s nothing left for me to say or do.  Trembling, my eyes fill with tears.  I burst out of the study and through the foyer and out the door.  I rush to Nick’s car and yank at the car handle, only it’s locked.  I bang on the door, my frustration pouring out.  I find myself crumbling to the defeat of the tears streaming.  I rest my head against the window pane of the car.  It’s cold and it’s smooth.  The shaking is almost uncontrollable.  I haven’t been able to stop it since I got here.  There’s only one way to stop it.  Only one thing will calm it down.  I have to shift.  I need to shift.  I know that I can’t.  I know he will see. 

I feel a hand resting on my back.  It gently caresses me, soothing me.  I turn to face Nick as he hovers over me, looking down at me with those sympathetic eyes.  I melt into him, wrapping my arms around him so tight.  I can feel his hot breath against me, his soft voice soothing me.  It’s almost better than shifting, feeling his arms around me and his heart against mine.  It’s all that I want right now. 

He kisses me gently on the forehead, then on the cheek before our lips touch.  His kiss is tender.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says.