A Curious Girl: But the fighter still remains

I love Paul Simon's music. Yesterday I was having one of those days when I feel all fed up and weighed down and Carol, who works with cells a lot and so looks after the little room with all the appropriate flow hoods, equipment etc, was playing Paul Simon while Nick and I were attempting to fast freeze cells. It made me feel much better - there's such a happiness and beauty that comes out of the songs, like Graceland, Call me Al, Diamonds on the Soles of her shoes. Funnily enough, Fifty ways just doesn't affect me the same way. You can't win
them all, Paul.

I saw Million Dollar Baby yesterday (a film about a female boxer and her trainer). I wouldn't have bothered except Helen (who works in my office) invited me and I thought it might be a good idea to bond with some work people, especially since in a recent team lunch I, despite feeling I fit in a lot more than usual, spent much of the time utterly bemused at the conversation topics. Helen, who isn't on my team, is really nice and I often talk to her on the work bus, so I figured it might be a good plan on getting to know people. We went for dinner beforehand (Saving money isn't really happening - I put the thrift in spendthrift...) and yeah it was nice although I still felt a little 'new'. Ah well. The film itself... well. I hadn't meant to see it because of disabled groups like NSCIA protesting about it, and websites like Ouch (which I am strangely addicted to) not liking it either. But well, I figured they don't give Oscars to just anyone and maybe it wasn't as bad they were making out. (Incidentally, while I was there I doubled my crime by using the disabled toilet. I did try to be really quick, I just couldn't find another loo and the film was about to start. Hope there isn't some kind of disabled mafia.)

It was as bad as they were making out. The film itself was mostly good. A couple of things - like the cold-hearted priest who actually swore at Clint (I was kinda upset since Clint's character did seem to be fairly sincere in his beliefs) and the amount of blood and gore etc were a bit unsettling. Morgan Freeman was his usual excellent self and Hilary Swank's character was well-portrayed.
But the ending... Was utterly stupid. Clint's kindly message to viewers was 'if you're paralysed, then you might as well die, especially if you had a good life before your injury.' Hilary's character spent the rest of her life in a crappy place that didn't seem to offer counselling or any kind of rehabilitation for the patients, and there was no hope for her in the end. Morgan tells Clint "if Maggie (Swank) dies tonight, her last thoughts will be 'I think I did all right'." Also Maggie has her leg amputated for no properly explained reason.

Capalert guy, as usual, completely missed the point. (Capalert is a Christian movie review site that knocks down films on the basis of their sinful content) As well as misiunderstanding a number of scenes (he for some reason believes that Clint starts a restaurant business at the end) he also comments "But what if the day after, the week after, or the year after the "mercy killing" medical breakthroughs happened that could have made Maggie a whole and firm person again? More portrayal of the three quintessential influences of modern entertainment; freedom from accountability, freedom from authority, freedom from consequences." Why is Capalert guy such an idiot? The thing that upset all the disabled campaigners is that Maggie was portrayed as *not* being a 'whole and firm person' after her injury - this is the affront on morality, not a simple 'what if'. Not 'what if she got better' but 'she can still live, even if she can't "get better" '. It's effectively saying that if you're paraplegic you should lie around in your hospital bed until you're euthanised or cured.

There was a character generally called 'Danger' in the film, who I liked. He was a young boxing wannabe who really didn't have the slightest idea what was going on (He kept saying he was going to beat the world champion, and naming a boxer who retired years before, for instance). Morgan is kind to him - gives him some training, encourages him, and looks after him, even when the other boxers bully him. He was really compassionate, and as I was watching I thought, I love caring for people. Caring for genes or bacteria really doesn't cut it. I like being able to help people who really need helping. The Paul Simon music had got me thinking about how I want to do something that makes me, and other people happy. There's something special about things that are made to be beautiful and joyful. I believe the ultimate function of comedy is to make people happy - it isn't meanspirited or cruel even when it mocks the ridiculous. I also believe there's great value in portraying life as it is - but we should look at the good side and bring out the hope in the situation. So I decided that I needed to do things that created happiness, and I think my best bet, considering my writing isn't really going anywhere right now, might be some kind of caring profession (teaching, obviously, is a possibility).

I wondered if in fact when I want to be a doctor I actually wanted to be a nurse. But actually, having watched a gory film and having to constantly remind myself it's all make-up, I somehow doubt it.

Sorry I haven't written in soooo long... I have lots to tell you. Thanks very much to Sian and MrJeff for your guestbook entries! It's always good to hear from you. I might actually get around to sending a proper e-mail to everyone one of these days.

Random word for today: sternutatory

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