Top Five Big Damn Hero Moments: Clyde Langer (The Sarah Jane Adventures)

(Note:  I'm out of town at the moment without access to my Sarah Jane DVDs, so I can't grab any screencaps.  I'll add pictures to this post tomorrow.)

 

I still have a few more recurring new Whocharacters to give a Top Five to, but I figured I might as well get started on the spin-offs.  There’s a lot to love about Clyde; here are five good reasons (spoilers.)

Deducing the Slitheen’s Weakness (Series 1, Episode 2 – “Revenge of the Slitheen:  Part 2”)

Mr. Smith has been disabled just before he can tell our heroes what common kitchen ingredient can destroy the Slitheen, and Clyde, in his first rodeo with Team Sarah Jane, works out what it is.  He remembers how the Slitheen disguised as his teacher reacted to the cold chip sandwich he brought to school and, reasoning that bread, salt, and potatoes are too ubiquitous to be the answer, realizes that it has to be the vinegar.  Not bad for a tagalong!

Communicating with the Outside World (Series 1, Episode 10 – “The Lost Boy:  Part 2”)

I love Clyde’s spidey sense about realizing when something’s not on the up-and-up, but it does tend to get him sidelined by the villains, since he’s not too discreet about revealing his suspicions.  Here, he’s trapped inside an alien computer (never mind how that works,) and he still manages to help, mentally sending a message to the Jacksons’ computer so the others will know who the bad guy/computer is.  (Also, bonus points for correctly visualizing the layout of a keyboard.)

Finishing Off Odd Bob (Series 2, Episode 4 – “Day of the Clown:  Part 2”)

Yes – using laughter to destroy an alien that feeds on fear is super cheesy, as are the incredibly lame jokes Clyde tells to get the job done, but I love this moment anyway.  Maybe it’s because Clyde has spent a lot of time getting criticized for being a “class clown,” with people confusing levity for trouble-making.  In light of that, I like seeing him use this quality to save the day, and I love how pleased he is with himself about it!

Realizing the Truth about Gavin (Series 4, Episode 8 – “The Empty Planet:  Part 2”)

More of Clyde’s spidey sense.  Gavin isn’t the villain here, but Clyde gets that something’s up.  He notes the lack of kid-friendly anything at Gavin’s flat – from the absence of DVDs and video games to the “rubbish biscuits” (cookie) – and while Rani takes that to mean Gavin’s life is rougher than theirs, Clyde sees it as something more, which helps lead them to the truth of who Gavin really is.

Standing Up to Frickin’ Nazis (Series 4, Episode 10 – “Lost in Time:  Part 2”)

Yep, this scene again.  Sick of it yet?  Me, neither.  Not only does Clyde call out an officer who’s racist to him, but he also taunts the Nazis with his foreknowledge of their eventual loss and buys himself just enough time to escape them by making them think his superior future technology (ie, his phone) is a high-tech bomb.  Clyde Langer for the win!

Top Five Songs: The Origin of Love (MIKA)

At first, I had a harder time connecting with MIKA’s third album than I did his first two.  Not as many songs jumped out at me immediately.  On repeated listens, however, this is a very fine album with some excellent songs.  Here are my favorites. 

“Origin of Love” – The title track is an intriguing, romantic song, at once celebratory toward love and pushing back against those who would illegitimize it.  With the strong religious imagery and specific references to religious objection to this love, I tend to view it through an LGBTQ lens.  Not sure if that was the intention, but that’s how it resonates with me.

Best lyric:  “Like everyone that you fear / And everything you hold dear, / Even the book in your pocket. / You are the sun and the light, / You are the freedom I fight. / God will do nothing to stop it. / The origin is you - / You’re the origin of love.”

“Lola” – Such an infectious groove.  I love the lilt of the verses and the beat of the chorus.  The lyrics feel defiant, regretful, and wistful at the same time, and I like the (dubious?) resolution of this man, vowing that he’s “not gonna fall in love this time.”

Best lyric:  “When you find your love’s for real, / You’ll beg and borrow, cheat or steal, / Trying to get the money just to call her.”

“Stardust” – Even though this song is about a relationship that’s ended, it’s still so bright and upbeat.  Not all the time – I love the plaintive vocals in the line about his heart being left “on the floor” – but overall, it’s about someone who misses their love but doesn’t resent them, who thinks about all he would give them if they could be together again.

Best lyric:  “Funny how the time goes rushing by / And all the little things we leave behind. / But even any other thing I do / Is a little bit of me, a little bit of you. / When will I see you again?”

“Overrated” – I like this one a lot.  The verses are gorgeous, and the soaring vocals on the chorus make a simple expression of a universal pain cut to the heart of the idea, the retreats heartbroken people make to deciding love is overrated.  Really, the vocals are stunning throughout, really beautiful.

Best lyric:  “Words get broken - / Cut me open - / Love confound me - / Kill me quickly.”

“Emily” – Technically, I’m not sure if this is the original version of the song or if it’s the English version of the French “Elle Me Dit,” which is on the album’s bonus disk.  Either way, the beat here is fantastic.  Another rather plaintive subject, but it’s performed buoyantly, as a guy tries to get through to the oblivious object of his affections.

Best lyric:  “Emily, live your life in a balloon. / Lock yourself up in your room, / So the world can never reach ya. / Emily, am I speaking Japanese? / Got me falling on my knees, / Got me praying to Saint Peter.”

News Satire Roundup: June 5th

Sunday, June 5 – Trump’s enterprises have been sued 3,500 times.  As John pointed out, TV doesn’t have enough legal drama to cover that.  After adding up every episode of every Law & Order variation, he added other lawyer shows until he ran out, a great way to show how insane that is.  He also looked at Trump University, including tidbits from its skeevy “playbook” and a little on the judge who’s hearing the case, who Trump thinks should recuse himself because he has Mexican heritage (yeah.)  The main story on debt buyers continued the “slimeball” theme.  They buy old debts for pennies on the dollar and rake people over the coals to pay them, even if they’ve passed the statute of limitations, declared bankruptcy, or passed away.  Luckily, John is spectacular; he not only started a debt buying company to prove how disturbingly easy it is, he bought a bunch of debt and had nearly $15,000,000 officially forgiven at the end of the episode.

No Daily Show again this week.  One thing that I want to mention is that I really like how the show has covered bathroom bills and the issue of trans rights over the past couple of months.  I remember when the subject first came up on the show, I was a bit apprehensive; I hadn’t been overly impressed with what little LGBTQ-related stories they’d previously done (or with standup pieces I’d seen from Trevor dealing with LGBTQ people, honestly,) and while this was the first time I’d seen the show and/or Trevor talk about trans stuff in particular, I wasn’t sure how thoughtful the commentary or the jokes would be.

But really, I think they’ve hit it out of the park.  I love that they did an entire episode centered around trans folk, and their continuing coverage of the North Carolina situation, bathroom bills in general, and the Obama administration’s response has been excellent.  Every story they’ve done on this topic, for me, has been funny, informative, hard-hitting, and most importantly, very earnest.  The show is really standing with trans people here, and I’m glad to see that.

A lot of what’s sprung out of this continuing story is crazy and ripe for satire.  North Carolina suing the federal government when the DOJ tells them their law is unconstitutional?  And willing to lose billions of dollars of federal education funding over it?  A man who supports a law to discriminate against people appears on TV comparing himself to Martin Luther King, Jr., Gandhi, and Jesus?  That’s insane, and perfectly ridiculous.

But the show has made serious points as well, both with and without humor.  Trevor has addressed (and ripped to shreds) each of the various hyperbolic, fearmongering arguments against allowing trans people to use the bathroom that matches their gender identity.  “But how’s it supposed to work?!  It’s unnatural!!!”  (Progress is often uncomfortable at first, but it’s still the right thing to do.)  “So any man can say he feels like a woman and go into the bathroom to molest my daughter?!”  (There’s no correlation between being trans and being a pervert, and it’s not like perverts have been sitting on their hands waiting for a legal loophole they can use to their advantage – also, there’s never been a reported case of someone being molested by a trans woman in a public restroom.)  “But it’s absurd; why would anyone think this is something we should be doing?!”  (People once said the same thing about interracial bathrooms, and looking back on it now, you’d call that sort of forced segregation absurd.  Again, progress.)  He’s also brought up trans men – specifically, the fact that no one’s bringing them up in all their panicked, exclusionary rhetoric and the gross double standard therein.

X-Men: Apocalypse (2016, PG-13)

I’m still trying to decide about this movie.  I don’t think it was as good as Days of Future Past, and I think First Class was better-made, even though I think Apocalypse equals that one for entertainment value, or is at least close to it.  There’s some definite clunkiness amid a number of strong performances and a handful of stellar sequences.

In keeping with the franchise’s new tradition of jumping 10 years with every film, we’ve hit the ‘80s now (not that anyone looks any older, and no one but Mystique and Wolverine has explicitly-stated reasons for their perma-youth.  Also, at this rate, they have one film to go before Xavier and Magneto need to look like Patrick Stewart and Sir Ian McKellen again – is it just a switch that gets flipped one day?)  The Professor’s school is well-established and, after the events of Days of Future Past, mutants and humans are enjoying a time of relative peace.  However, a blast from the past – namely, an immortal, all-powerful mutant from ancient Egypt who positioned himself as a god – has just resurfaced to wreak major, world-ending havoc, and it’s up to heroes new and old to stop him.

Some of the action here is really impressive.  I love the big final battle, which finds a great balance between the various characters and their unique powers, and Quicksilver has another terrific speedster scene – I honestly can’t say which I like more, this one or the one from Days of Future Past (unfortunately, this is the only sequence in which the character really feels like the same Quicksilver.  I know it’s been 10 years, but it’s weird that he’d change thatmuch.  It feels wrong not to have him bouncing off the walls in most of his scenes.)  I love most of the casting for the new characters.  Sophie Turner (Sansa from Game of Thrones) makes an excellent Jean Grey, and the end of the film has me excited to see where things are going with her character.  Tye Sheridan does a nice job with Cyclops and, although Kodi Smit-McPhee is no Alan Cumming, he’s very good as young Nightcrawler, and he looks great.  Alexandra Shipp has all the makings of a wonderful Storm, but I don’t think she’s used very well here – I know I definitely wanted more from the story than I got for her.  All the old guard turn in good work, especially (no surprise) James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender.

The story, for me, is just all right.  Apocalypse is a little too “non-specified all-powerful megalomaniac” for me, and while Oscar Isaac (Poe from the new Star Wars) gives it his all, the script doesn’t give him much to work with.  Most of the newcomers’ storylines feel at least a bit shortchanged, and Magneto’s arc somehow feels both repetitive and unbelievable at the same time, which really shouldn’t happen.  Also, this is maybe a little thing, and I know there are lines in the movie to explain it, but it bugs me that Mystique and Beast spend so much of the movie looking like Jennifer Lawrence and Nicholas Hoult.  It feels disingenuous to the characters, like the film wants them more recognizable (especially J-Law) for monetary reasons; just didn’t work for me.

Warnings

Comic-book violence, swearing, drinking, naked Mystique, and thematic elements.

Relationship Spotlight: Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson (Daredevil)

Realizing that Marvel has too much for me to only talk about in periodic write-ups, here’s a new regular feature:  Marvelous Wednesdays!  The MCU has a real way with depicting relationships between a superhero and their nonpowered friend.  Jessica and Trish, Steve and Bucky in the first Captain America, Peggy and Jarvis (although, in their case, the “super” part isn’t required,) and here, Matt and Foggy.  Much love for these two, who might get the deepest examination of this type of relationship.  Some Foggy-Matt-related Daredevil spoilers, including season 2.

The early episodes of the series quickly and clearly set up Matt and Foggy’s dynamic.  They’ve been through the trenches of law school together and are now ready to take on the world as defense attorneys looking out for the little guy.  They’re quite the “little guys” themselves; even though they know their stuff and aren’t afraid to mess with the big dogs, their operation looks decidedly ramshackle, what with their tiny, bare offices, their sole employee, and their zero dollars.  Still, they’re undaunted by what they don’t have and instead focus on what they can do.  Both give each other the sort of hard time that only best friends can, but both also know how to buckle down and give it their all when it comes to helping out someone in trouble.

However, Matt and Foggy are different from the other duos mentioned above in a key way:  at the start of the series, Foggy doesn’t know that Matt puts on a mask at night and fights gangsters.  He’s completely in the dark about Matt’s superpowers, and when he accidentally discovers the truth in the middle of season one, it’s rough.  He’s of course hurt by all the secrets Matt has kept from him, he’s naturally concerned for Matt’s safety, and he worries about the drive within Matt that makes him dish out such a brutal, self-determined brand of justice.  The revelations knock him over, and it takes time for them to get to any sort of good place again.

Even as Foggy struggles to reconcile Matt’s secret life, however, he can’t stop caring.  He gives Matt raw diatribes on how much his ever-present worry for Matt is tearing him up, but he still rushes in whenever Matt is hurt, dragging his bleeding friend home and helping to patch him up.  He puts himself in incredible danger at times to make sure Matt is safe.  Part of it is simply the depth of their friendship, but I imagine that part of it is also the fact that Foggy can’t shake the impression he’s developed over the years of Matt being slightly more in need of looking after.  Not that Foggy ever really patronized Matt or treated him with kid gloves due to his disability, but it’s clear in the little things that he’s accustomed to “helping out.”  Matt holds Foggy’s arm when they walk down busy sidewalks together, and Foggy frequently serves as his informal audio describer, filling him on visual details like someone’s facial reactions.  Although Matt’s powers essentially nullify his blindness and then some, I think Foggy’s gut still thinks of Matt as that guy, the one who needs an extra hand.  (In truth, I think any friend of a superhero would display much the same level of concern, but I think this particular detail gives the show more room to explore it.)

By the end of season two, I’m not quite sure where things will go moving forward with Matt and Foggy.  Their friendship has been put through the ringer, personally and professionally, and as much as Foggy still cares, he realizes he can over take so much of Matt putting himself in danger.  I hope things work out for our favorite avocados at law, and I suspect they probably will in the end, but it might be a long time coming.

A Few Thoughts on Alice Through the Looking Glass

I saw this film with a friend the other night, and while I certainly wouldn’t call it a good movie, it’s also a somewhat frustrating one, because it contains a handful of strong points – elements that, if pursued more deftly, might have resulted in a much better film.  That’s what I want to look at today, things that I feel went both right and wrong.  (Note:  I’m sticking strictly with the movie here.  The current allegations against Johnny Depp are another matter.)  A few spoilers.

General complaints first.  It feels disjointed to me that the movie’s look is one of wonder and whimsy while the overall storyline is bogged down by family drama.  Season 1 of Once Upon a Timesold the Mad Hatter as a tragic (yet dark) figure, but try as Alice Through the Looking Glass might, it really can’t pull off the same.  All the sad eyes feel forced, the familial fallings-out feel too tritely-written, and the prevailing tone of the whole thing just feels out of place.  (Also, speaking of Once Upon a Time, the Queen of Hearts’s childhood origin story makes Regina’s villainous motivation seem almost rational.)  To couple the father-son, sister-sister angst with the technical visuals and bonkers silliness of Wonderland doesn’t work for me.

As with the first film, the less you know about the book, the more sense the story makes, but I don’t begrudge it that.  After all, it was sold from the beginning as a revisionist version of Alice’s adventures.  Besides, I’m not so attached to the book that I mind all the changes, and it’s not like the book would give too much of a cohesive story arc for a film to work with, anyway.  While some of the newly-imagined plot, like Hatter angst, doesn’t interest me, others, like Hero!Alice, are pretty neat.  On the latter front, Alice’s transformation into a BAMF is written a little too obviously at time, but I like the general idea of it, and some of it comes off really well.  The opening scene, wherein Alice (now traveling the world in a ship left to her by her late father) escapes a band of pirates due to her knowledge of the sea, creative thinking, and sheer nerve, makes me very happy, and that combination of smarts and bravery serves her well when she gets back to Wonderland.

It’s interesting to me that every scene set in our world is basically, “Boo, Victorian misogyny!  Go feminism!”  It’s not surprising that Alice would receive pushback from her way of life there, and that it would be hard for her to combat something she can’t solve like a riddle or fight with a sword; I was definitely a little impressed when, mid-film, a Victorian doctor declares her to suffering from “female hysteria.”  That said, this storyline is also written too on-the-nose at times, and I don’t think the threads between Alice’s struggle for independence in England and her heroic journey in Wonderland are drawn quite clearly enough.  Again, I feel a real disconnect between the different parts of the film.  There are good pieces that don’t seem to blend organically into the whole.

My last check in the plus column is some of the stuff surrounding the personification of Time.  All the time jokes (a la “Why is it you wait for no man?”) feel very Lewis Carroll, and while it doesn’t quite make sense for Time to have a clock in his chest, since the use of timepieces to mark its passage is a box that we humans stuff time into, I do love the rooms filled with hanging pocket watches in his castle, each one representing a different person making their gradual way toward ticking their last – a cool idea, and a really gorgeous image.  I also enjoy the general theme of the time-travel plot, the ultimate idea of learning from the past rather than changing it.

Trevor Noah: Pay Back the Funny (2015)

It was a no Last Week Tonight, no Daily Show week, so have a review of another Trevor Noah standup special (thanks, YouTube.)

Filmed in Johannesburg, this special starts out reallysimilar to Noah’s Lost in Translationshow from Comedy Central.  He opens with the same riff on “woohoo,” touches on the same idea of Black people’s fractious history with the police, and tells the same story about his mother and grandmother’s reactions to him getting the Daily Show gig.  At first, I thought it was going to be the same basic show, albeit in slightly different packaging; I like his comment that white people don’t have the problem of going to jail “by mistake,” and I think it’s interesting that, in the anecdote about his mom, his mentions his younger brother being named “head prefect” at school, while in the American-made Lost in Translation, he says his brother’s made “student council.”

After the first 10-15 minutes, though, it’s entirely different, mostly fantastic material.  He has an amusing riff on smartphones, complete with a dramatic reenactment of a woman taking a “candid” selfie.  He discusses South African president Jacob Zuma’s latest scandal and how he’s rebounded from it – I love Noah’s delight at Zuma making fun of the way someone else talks, and his speculation about how Zuma learned to eyeroll is great.  I pretty much always enjoy Noah’s observations about interactions between different cultures, and he has some nice material on accents here, doing a terrific routine on the origins of the South African Indian accent as well as drawing clear distinctions between someone’s accent and their level of intelligence.

Speaking of accents, it turns out Noah’s chief edict from his countrymen before joining The Daily Show was not to lose his.  My favorite part of the special is an extended sequence about The Daily Show’s effect on his life at home and in the States.  He describes himself as “well-known” rather than “famous” and tells the crowd about his experiences being invited to celebrity events.  From the chaotic nightmare of the red carpet, to “rubbing shoulders with” people who have no idea who he is, to desperately trying not to fanboy in front of everyone he’s ever idolized, it’s an excellent picture of what it’s like to have just gotten his first seat at the table.

The other long routine I love is a story about South Africa’s frequent load-shedding (rolling blackouts.)  Returning to South Africa from New York, Noah can’t get past the electric gate for his own house due to a power out, and he muses on the perils of trying to jump his fence before getting swallowed by the soul-crushing exercise of ringing up a government department.  The references here are South-Africa-specific, but trying to call a bureaucracy isn’t.  Between the automated voice, the endless hold music, and the completely-unhelpful live operator who picks up just when Noah has lost all hope of ever speaking to another human again, the anecdote is both totally South African and absolutely universal.

Overall, I think Lost in Translation is still the best I’ve seen so far, but this special is super funny, really personable, and a lot of fun.

Warnings

Language, alcohol references, and thematic elements.

Relationship Spotlight: Strika & Agu (Beasts of No Nation)

This is maybe an odd relationship to write about from this movie, since the totally frakked-up, bizarre father-son Stolkholm Syndrome relationship between the Commandant and Agu is clearly the center of the film.  However, as understated as the bond between Agu and Strika is by comparison, for me, it’s the film’s heart (some spoilers.)

In a way, Strika is just one more piece of the paradoxical honey trap that is the Commandant’s forces.  While the Commandant steps forward as a twisted father figure to fill the void of Agu’s recently-murdered father, Strika is offered up as a sort of surrogate brother.  Many of the other soldiers are older than Agu and intimidate him, but with Strika, there’s a chance that he might prove a friend to Agu.  And so, this boy becomes another element luring Agu into a false sense of belong, kinship, even normalcy.  Playing with Strika, fighting alongside him, and seeing how he cares for Agu, the hooks of the rebel army sink deeper into Agu’s skin, making it that much harder to run away.

Despite Strika’s youth, he’s a more “seasoned” soldier than Agu is and is therefore a good choice to further indoctrinate him into the army.  Strika has already been pulled under the Commandant’s riptide, and he’s hardened himself to the blood that’s stained his hands.  He can show Agu the ropes and watch his back when they’re in a hot spot.  It would be hard for Agu to compare himself to the older, bigger soldiers, but looking at Strika, you can see how Agu might think, “I could be like him.”  It’s certainly in the Commandant’s best interests that Agu and Strika become friends.

But it’s more than that, because no matter how advantageous it is for the Commandant’s machinations, the friendship that forms between Agu and Strika is true, and the Commandant can’t touch that.  In some stories, Agu and Strika might have given one another the will they needed to break free and escape the army, but here, they’re instead one another’s means of clinging on.  They talk – or rather, Agu talks, while the mute Strika communicates in other ways – skirting around the enormity of the issues that have upended their lives.  They doplay, finding flashes of moments in which they can feel like children and, maybe just for a minute or two, forget the horror of their existence.  They protect each other, both physically and emotionally.  After the abuse Agu suffers, you know that he needs more than the quiet, non-judging companionship Strika gives him, but it’s all either of them have, and so they figure out how to sustain Agu with it.

Beasts of No Nation is a heavy film with many hard-hitting scenes, but the one that gets to me the most is easily the last scene shared between Agu and Strika.  In a cruel, violent, unjust world in which people exploit them and risk their lives in the name of someone else’s agenda, in which no one cares whether they live or die, they care about each other.  In the midst of all the darkness, brief points of light.

Favorite Characters: Bucky Barnes a.k.a. The Winter Soldier (The Avengers)

(Bucky-related spoilers, including Captain America:  Civil War.)  When I first saw Captain America, Bucky was just so-so character, mainly coasting on Sebastian Stan’s performance.  It wasn’t until The Winter Soldier that he came alive for me, both in that film and retroactively in the first movie.  By the time Civil War finally came out, he was one of my favorites.

At first blush, Bucky in Captain Americafeels like little more than a plot device, Steve’s best friend who becomes a tragic casualty of WWII, and it’s true that he has a lot more going on as a character in the later movies, but there’s still some good value here.  I like that Bucky appears so out of Steve’s “league,” friendship-wise, before the super-soldier serum turns Steve into Cap, but he doesn’t treat Steve that way.  Right from the first, it’s clear that their friendship goes deep.  It’s also important to establish him as a brave all-American boy who likes to have fun, because when he comes back in the later films, we need to see how thoroughly he’s been changed.

‘Cause Bucky has it rough.  Loses his arm and nearly dies after a fall from an elevated train.  Taken by the enemy and experimented on, giving him a bionic arm and powers similar to Cap’s.  Brainwashed and sent on wetwork missions, committing acts that would horrify him in his right mind.  Held in cryogenic stasis between missions to keep him a viable asset for almost 70 years, routinely wiping his mind and subjecting him to further brainwashing.  Because of all this, formidable as he is in The Winter Soldier, he’s always more of a weapon than a villain.  I love the way he fights like an absolute animal when he’s activated, because it demonstrates how much he’s not his own person at that point.  He does insane stuff, even for a powered person, and he just keeps coming relentlessly.  There’s no sense of self-preservation or falling back to regroup, because the fascists who’ve been playing with his brain don’t leave any room for that.

Naturally, the whole thing wrecks Steve, and it’s through his sheer belief in Bucky’s buried humanity that he’s able to break through Bucky’s programming and help him start down the path of returning to himself.  By the time we catch up with Bucky in Civil War, he’s done a lot of work to regain a sense of who he is.  However, now that he’s out from under Hydra’s thumb, some want him to answer for the crimes he committed as the Winter Soldier, as well as other crimes attributed to him.  On the run, fighting those who try to take him in, trying to keep his past from creating any further damage in the world – the prevailing impression I get from Bucky in this film is that he’s just tired.  Running, fighting, being used, over and over, and even as he keeps on going, it’s clear he’s running on empty.  In addition to the physical demands and threats, he’s also dealing with the weight of his past, exacerbated by seeing Steve again.  As much as Steve wants to believe in Bucky and will never give up on him, he’s also wary, untrusting of Bucky, and Bucky more than once has to prove he’s in his right mind before Steve starts to let his guard down.  No judgment on Steve – given what’s been done to Bucky, it would be irresponsible to do otherwise – but it’s still a harsh reminder of what Bucky has been made into.  And even Steve’s unconditional support is hard for Bucky to take, seeing Steve and others endanger themselves for his sake when Bucky doesn’t feel he deserves it.  Despite literally having had his free will taken away in an invasive, torturous manner, Bucky still holds himself accountable for his actions and carries the guilt of them.  Incredible character drama, and I’m loving every second of it, but I hope that, at some point, we can see Bucky getting at least a minute of relatively uncomplicated peace and/or happiness.  He’s long overdue.

Original: Braeburn Prospect (2012)

A brief drabble.

*          *          *

 

Braeburn Prospect

Its skin is like a sheer cliff face

Made of autumn-dappled plastic,

And no one has marred its immaculate surface

With succulent attempts to climb.

And yet, a solitary flag

Has been planted in its summit.

It arches out from that sudden slope in the apex,

As if to say, “There’s no such thing as unscalable.”

But the flag crawled up from within;

You won’t reach the top that way.

Find a tooth-hold,

And the taste of a summer shower

Saving you from the indignity of August sweat

Will trickle down your chin as you rise.