It All Started With a Comment

Dear Readers of A Life in Equinox:

Over the last few months I have received a nearly endless string of questions as to my general lack of presence in the current blogging scene. These have ranged from inquiries to my health and well being to side remarks about whatever happened to that weird one who spoke fast and had an odd obsession with proving pandas are all evil. So allow my to clarify those two points right off:

1. I'm fine, thank you for asking.
2. Yes, all pandas are evil.

So with those two out of the way you may find yourself thinking, whatever did happen to Univarn? Well, allow me to say it this way: I'm taking the break I should have taken a long time ago. It's not the kind of break one takes lightly when they've built as big a following as I have and it's not one I intend to waste by rushing back into blogging.

This break is purely cathartic. An opportunity for me to take a step back and really look at how I've let my blog shape my world. To allow all those churning questions that eek through in moments of dissatisfaction seep through the cracks and be explored to their fullest. To remind myself why I started this blog to begin with. What it was supposed to mean to me and how I am supposed to use that information.

I've often said in my daily life that the world of blogging is like the world's largest insecure writer's support group (to steal a title from Alex C). I can't recall the last time I talked to a blogger who was truly comfortable in their situation in life; in every aspect of the way they dealt with the social world. That singular void which a blog could so easily fill if left in the right hands.

Yet I wanted more. From the very get go I wanted to be seen as more than just another blogger. I wanted to be known for my wit, off the rail humor, and intelligence. I craved the feeling of being acknowledged as one of the best, and I did everything I could in my power to attain that. I commented on everyone's blog I could get my hands on - regardless of my own feelings to the quality of their actual content (don't worry though I'm sure you're blog was one I really enjoyed). I created posts to attract all sorts of different readers. Appeased the high brow with raves of classics. Appeased the mainstream by keeping up with the modern films. I used every tool at my disposal, and I thrived.

It all started with that first comment. That first acknowledgement that people cared about what I had to say. It was crack and I was the addict. I'm not saying I didn't believe in what I wrote. Rather that I was willing to write just as much for the thrill of writing as for the thrill of being reminded that I should continue to do so. The content was nice, but it was a means to an end.

I always had good intentions, and never wrote about anything I wasn't at least partially passionate about. But sooner or later that high had to end. After all how often can anyone be that drastically passionate about every single thing they wrote? Especially on a day in and day out basis. I don't deny that some can and seemingly do , but something inside me was always nagging. Always calling out "you're missing the big picture."

Blogging had become an obsession for me. It had become something that I had to do. I had to write about every movie I saw because I needed someone to reinforce, support, or bow to the superiority of my opinion on every movie. I didn't write reviews because I wanted to share my opinion. I wrote reviews because I wanted to dominate opinion. To subvert trends, counter culture, or influence passion all of which lead to the inevitable return of that most precious thing: a comment. Which to those who've read my rants on the very idea of a review will seem hypocritical in every form.

The truth is I had forgotten how to love movies. How to properly love movies that is. Eight years of blogging (5 on rotten tomatoes and 3 here) had desensitized me to the very concept of loving a movie. They were a tool. I could use my affinity for them to manipulate any situation I found myself in to achieve whatever I felt in my own best interest. Needed to rile up the boys and get them pumped up? Easy, slip in a "Twilight is shit" reference during the middle of a blog post about some classic romance film.

But if you were to put me under torture and force me to answer the question "What is your honest opinion of Twilight?" I would honestly have to say "I don't give a damn either way." I enjoy making fun of it. It's fun to watch people's reactions, on both sides of the spectrum. Yet that doesn't mean I particularly hate it, nor do I particularly like it. As time went on that feeling became more and more prevalent in the way I viewed all films.

More movies I knew I ought to like, I couldn't find it in me to do so. Not in a "because everyone else likes them I ought to" sort of way, but more so in that deep down I felt as if they are the very things I would have liked before I started to blog. A regular theater viewing had become as much about enjoying the story as it had finding a use for the film. To find where that film would fit in the social zeitgeist and how that would be best utilized to meet my own ends.

Years of being bullied meant that I had spent years on the sidelines watching others interact. Always analyzing, always calculating, trying to understand how they interacted with one another. I became particularly talented at understanding how people would react to various ways I would express myself. I never lied about my opinion, but I was good at maneuvering the shades of gray between the various levels of liking or hating something.

All the while I would feel guilty about the entirety of my actions. A turbulent inner storm that wrapped itself inside me. Torn between my own aspirations and my want for inspiration. I became disgusted with my own viewing habits. I started to resent movies. To resent blogging. To push back against everything I had built in the hope that I could open my eyes to movies once again.

I still do it from time to time. I find myself in the middle of a movie wandering off to the world of the blog. Imagining my opinion of the film, envisioning the likely reactions to the manner in which I choose to state my opinion and weighing the personal benefit of each. For those films I choose to write nothing. Not because they are bad or I believe my opinion is any less valid, but because I know that deep down it's not honest. My early reviews were short, sweet, and represented what I truly felt about the films I watched - perception be damned!

To get back to that. To find a way to care more about the honesty of the content than the exhilaration of the response. That is my mission. I do not know if it will be one that is easily accomplished. I do not know if it is one that can ever be accomplished. But to bring my view of movies back to a relationship solely between myself and the film. An individual relationship with ups, downs, moments of indifference and yet each and every one unique. That, I feel, is the only way to remind myself of a simple truth: That I have always loved movies.


Sincerely Yours,


Ryan "Univarn" Helms

We Now Return You To Your Regularly Scheduled Program

If you've been sitting around lately smoking your morning tobacco, adjusting your monocle, and thinking  "blast it all, why hasn't Univarn posted anything recently?" (as one does these days) then I'm here to report on what I will now call UniGate 2012. You see my old laptop is currently on its way out (anyone got a 12 days of Christmas style tune for blue screens of death?), so there was a delay while I bought a new laptop. Yet I've still got a whole host of software that hasn't made the migration from this machine to that new one.

Things like photoshop (which I use for the movie picture code) and audacity (on which I intend to record my new podcast series) are missing, which are really mucking up my attempts to get back into the flow of blogging. Of course it didn't help that one of the first installations done on my shiny new laptop was Skyrim. Which reminds me, what day of the week is it and is Nixon still president?

Jokes aside, I'm still trying to get back into the ebb and flow of daily blogging. Ideas and rants are coming up dry and at least 5 posts I've written in the last few weeks have ended up on the cutting room floor (honestly, how many times can a man say "stop celebrity worshiping" before people say "oh shut up already").

So in lieu of these things here's an interesting fact I've learned recently for your reading fulfillment:

James Dean had fake front teeth (the explanation stories seem to vary from source to source). As a prank, he would sometimes remove them and drop them into a glass while drinking.

There, now your knowledge of the universe is complete. Carry on.

Looking For That Christmas Spirit

I have a lot to be thankful for this year. Not the least of which is each and every one of you who take a few moments out of your daily run around to venture my way and check out whatever odd ramblings pop into my wee little head. I'm not sure why you do it (possibly a chemical imbalance), but I greatly appreciate each and every one of you. So much so that I can't easily quantify it in words. And I must say I appreciate you more this year than any prior.

You see, in previous years my blog has rode high on the comment exchange train. You read my blog, I read yours, leave a little nugget of a comment, you return in fine form, and we skate off into the sunset a happy duo of fellow reading. This year though, I can't honestly say I've kept up my end of the bargain. In fact, I'm sad to report my commenting is down by a percentage I dare not calculate for fear of depression. There are excuses a plenty I could give, but the truth is that there are those with far greater commitments than I ever dreamed of doing far more.

Does this make me a bad blogger? Certainly by some level of evaluation, and I wouldn't argue that my blog has reflected this downward shift in gears. Not only in terms of content, but also in terms of enthusiasm. The Movie Picture Code was a healthy bump in the right direction, but I'm far from back on the straight and narrow tracks. Part of that has come from a crisis of faith in my writing - or more precisely my ability to come up with engaging content.

Most of this is years of insecurity battling an over developed ego and trace elements of jealousy mixed in, but I do my best to focus on the positive. And that positive more often than not comes from you. From the wonderful blogathons you come up with to the incomparable podcasts you host there's always something for me to seek out and discover about each and every one of you. Not to mention your consistently engaging content which keeps me coming back for more.

That's right, don't think that just because I don't comment, doesn't mean I don't read. I do so at every chance I get. Sneaking a few minutes here and there whenever my schedule allows. Though it's not enough, and I know it. So as we move forward into the new year, and new year's resolutions and Christmas giving come upon us once again, I felt right in trying to exorcise the demons of 2011's blogging adventure. In the hope that as 2012 comes around I shall be re-invigorated, re-enorgized, and ready to once again deliver unto all of you that kindness for which you have delivered unto me.


Thank You!

- Univarn

To Steal a Line From Bloggers Far Greater Than Myself....

Today I feel like this:




It's been decided - partially by me, partially by those around me - that it's high time I do something physical. Somehow sitting around moaning about politics, eating baked potato chips, and lying to myself about how I'm on a diet while drooling over the memory of a cupcake I had the day before isn't going to cut it. It's political correctness gone mad I tell you! If a man can't sit around be fat, complain about being fat, and then be annoyed when other people point out his fatness, what has gone wrong with society?

Nothing. The truth is, I'm out of shape. No amount of sugar coating, calling myself big boned, or waiting on a half dead metabolism to kick in is going to change that. That's not to say I ever was in shape. The peak of my physical fitness was reached around 5 years old when my shape would have been roughly described as twig-like. But a bike accident which scarred up my right foot and put me in a wheel chair for eight weeks on the verge of my 6th birthday somehow put the whole "being active" thing out of my vocabulary. So much so that I didn't try and ride a bike again until I was near on 12 years old - and even then I had to be bribed with the promise of Pokemon cards (what can I say, I'm cheap and easy). And the first diet I ever attempted was when I was 18 but I've more or less gained half of the 30 pounds I lost back.

This decision is built on years of telling myself I'm going to do something only to never really do anything. So what am I going to do? Walk. Not jog, mind you. People keep telling me about a runner's high but I tried jogging/running for months and the closest I ever got was the one time I sneezed and hiccuped simultaneously. But I do like walking. Mostly because it affords me an opportunity to wander around without much worry to what is going on around me - except for those crazy drivers - but also because it's just relaxing.

Relaxing in the way one might describe sitting down at a restaurant you know full and well with a waiter who knows exactly what you want and how you like it prepared. That's a feeling that just can't be beat. And if you've never felt it, stop what you're doing now (preferably after you leave a comment about how I changed your life) and go find something that offers such bliss.

My goal? Well luckily NC does have some walking 5ks and half-marathons which pop up every now and again and I figured that's as good a place to start as any. Maybe I should purchase Run Fatboy Run and watch it on endless loop for inspiration? On second thought maybe not.....

What I'm Into Right Now

It's quite easy to paint me as a man woefully detached from the society in which I'm geographically inclined to operate. So much so that I often play up the role of being an angry curmudgeon just to help explain to people why I really don't care for the latest dealings in a certain celebrity's life or the latest reality show. All the same, I thought it would be fair game to bring you all up to speed on what I do spend my time on when I'm not purveying all your lovely blogs and a never battle against the oncoming waves of movies being release.

So, without further ado these are the various things I'm into right now:

 

Things People Have Recommended To Me That I'm Catching Up On:

So there you have it. Pretty much the gamut of my viewing/reading/playing catalog at the moment. Got any recommendations of your own? Or anything non-movie related you're checking out and really passionate about? Share it in the comments!

Save Yourself the Trouble

When it comes to politics, you can keep the sanctimonious ramblings to yourself because I'm not buying it. That doesn't mean you're wrong, but just because you can enthusiastically talk about a subject matter doesn't mean I'm going to believe you. Anyone can be passionate about anything and with the 'correct' information in the 'correct' manner, present something that seemingly supports their argument to the 't'.

Only one problem, I learned from the best. My Grandfather was a Air Force Sergeant for 20 years before becomming a school teacher for another 20 and retiring. These days, now ate the ripe old age of 81, he can tell you stories that would pry the envy from even some of the most hardened souls (just ask him about his time as a mechanic on the SR71 Blackbird). It's safe to say I admire the man greatly. Particularly one aspect of his life that I've often heard about - the encylopedias.

You see, my Grandfather had a great approach to any debate going on around him. He only formed an opinion about an issue if he learned about himself. If you came up to him with a thought on something and he wasn't familiar with the subject he'd go home, whip out his encyclopedias, and read up on the key points. Once he felt like he understood the material at hand, then - and only then - would he partake in the debate. It's a state of mind I sincerely wish more people would take up.

Of course, that style may not work quite so well in this day and age. After all, I'm sure given the time and effort you could prove or disprove anything with the vast resources of the internet at your disposal. The problem I find is that people just lack the drive to do the research themselves. They'd much rather watch a game of football, go out drinking at the club, or spend their time downloading apps for their phone than learning the information.

Research? Isn't that something that weird 'geeks' do? Yes, and even they can be guilty of pandering the research to meet the consumer. How else do you explain the shocking number of advocacy and lobbying groups, each with convincing sounding numbers to back up their widely conflicting claims on various issues? In an age where information travels at the speed of light, misinformation still manages to travel at twice that.

Why? Because the internet is often guilty of being one world-wide scale game of telephone. What starts out as "Scientists discover new particle" in the original form is taken, read, rewritten, referenced, opinionated, and eventually comes out "Scientists discover new death ray particle capable of annihilating a planet" on the other side. Even though near on all of those words have no respective foundation in the original article. Yet by the time it's reached that level hundreds of other websites, chain mails, and social media postings have followed and that's the story we all believe.

So here are some basic tips for getting the most truth for your buck:

1. Check the references of the sites you read. If it's an advocacy/lobbying group study, or an opinion article, turn on your skeptical radar immediately. Try and trace the story back to its original source.
2. If they're saying "in history" or any variation there of, odds are they're just wrong. It's a big go to phrase for saying something (or someone) is the worst/best in history, but history is a long time and if you're going that big, you're probably reaching.
3. Hyperbole isn't just restricted to numbers. Be careful of the way articles are written, and people speak, because grossly exaggerated claims and 'worse than they really are' power words are the benchmark of politics.
4. It's what the founding fathers would have done. I'm not saying the founding fathers aren't important, but you must remember that not only did they live long lives, but they also said lots of things, vehemently disagreed on an assortment of issues, had to maintain the peace between some violently different political viewpoints, and were - in many instances - politicians themselves. Any quote which isn't immediately backed up by the context in which it was said (year, timing, point in life) should immediately put you on alert.
5. Read more than one article. Perhaps the facet of society we're most often guilty of is reading only the articles which reinforce our own political bias. There is no greater power than the repression of information, and by only focusing on one very particular view, you're giving that power to them.

Above all though, I plead that you take an active interest in politics. We as a society are often guilty of only caring about things once they begin directly affecting us, and unfortunately that generally comes too late. But if we began to care beforehand. To worry about what would occur to us twenty or thirty years from now, then - and perhaps only then - can we begin pushing the political discourse into a proactive stance.


Note: While I respect the viewpoint of each and every one of you, please keep your comments respectful, helpful, and on the topic at hand. Non-constructive liberal and/or conservative bashing comments will be subject to moderation.

And They Shall Call Him "Film Buff"

I still remember it like it was only a day ago. We were at a party with some family friends, sitting around the kitchen counter talking to the parental units about the usual things. You know how high school was going, what were we thinking about for college, why were we not upstairs playing video games and staying out of the way of the adults. When suddenly one of them turned to me and said "Ryan, come here." I obliged, as I'm so inclined to do. My first thought was that I was in trouble or was about to be asked some stupid question about some random pop culture icon I was only vaugely aware of.

As I got closer I realized they were talking about movies. Fair enough, but I still didn't see what that had to do with me. But all the same the three women looked at me and just said "What's that movie with Richard Gere and that guy where he's got a double personality thing?" It didn't take me long to muster up a response, and so I quite simply delivered "Primal Fear with Edward Norton." "That's it" they responded with some enthusiasm, and I took pride in knowing that I could be of help to whatever series of events had led them onto that topic.

It was what followed that struck my memory chords so profoundly. "That Ryan, I swear he's seen every movie ever made. He's our resident film buff." Now I want you to take a moment. If you were to imagine me as I appear today you might not think much of it, but at the time that would have been akin to saying I was the star quarterback or a prodigal musician. I had seen a fair number of movies, but "every movie ever made" and "film buff" just didn't fit my daily schedule. Even if you strip the former of its hyperbolic nature, I wouldn't have even cracked the surface.

If you were to say "M*A*S*H fanatic" or "Dragon Ball Z buff" I would understand. After all, those were the shows I watched back then and that was about all I watched. In fact the only reason I knew Primal Fear was the answer was because it was on HBO in the two hours leading up to the party and I decided I'd kill some time by watching it. A fact I tried to point out to the trio but by then I had once again been relegated to 'kid who should be upstairs playing video games instead of down here with the adults.'

But "film buff" was not the self image I had. Mind you, this was before Kurosawa, Wilder, and Hitchcock had invaded my life. Movies were a second tier thought to me, ranking behind the afore mentioned shows and an unhealthy addiction to Harvest Moon 64. If I did watch a movie it was likely whatever mindless action film was on television at the time. I never bothered to commit any of them to memory, and most are still just one pile of a jumbled mess in my head today. They were food, taken in and released out in equal measure. I felt no need to hold onto them, and therefore being asked questions about them was an alien feeling.

Over time things changed, and perhaps in small part to that singular event, I began to journey into the world of film. Being called a film buff, or simply being a "go to" guy for movie related questions, became commonplace. Yet I still like to look back and wonder what impact that had on me. If deep down I started feeling an obligation to know more about movies because it was expected of me. Even if at the time I had no idea why.

On Life, Cinema, and Tears

It may or may not come as a surprise to some of you, but there was a point in my life where bringing out the waterworks in me was easier than 1, 2, 3. How easy? Well to put this in perspective let's just say I may hold the title for being one of only a handful of people to have squeezed out a tear for the movie Dungeons & Dragons. Anyone who has seen that movie can back me up on this, that's a feat worthy of any embarrassment that may be felt afterwords. Looking back on the film, however, it's not really that surprising to me that I did cry during the film.

Dungeons & Dragons came about in a film complicated time in my life, Middle School. At my school I was at the bottom of shit hill and everything rolled in my direction. Any bully, or aspiring cool guy, looking to earn his stripes turned his target on the largest one in the room - me. I was a triple layer of easy pickings. I was overtly nervous, had the worse dress sense you can imagine, and took everything seriously. Especially as those three tumultuous years rattled on. Being a relatively chubby kid with glasses thicker than windshields it took no time at all for people to pick me out of the crowd for bullying. I was shoved into lockers, laughed at in hallways, tripped in Gym class, and called just about everything under the sun. A few years of that and I reckon a few of you would be easy to well up too.

As you might imagine during that time what I looked for in films was quite different from what I look for now. I wanted escape. I wanted escape so badly that even the worst of cinema was a perfect refuge for a soul like me. Any character of any likability I latched onto instantaneously, and as such any emotion they felt, I felt. So when that character, or another one, was 'removed from the picture' those waterworks kicked on and I was heading to tearville. Unfortunately this didn't help much when we watched movies at school, but more often than not I was good at hiding it (except in the case of Glory - damn you Edward Zwick!).

Movies that I watched during that time period generally rank high even today among the films that brought on the heaviest tears. Movies like The Green Mile, tailor made tearjerkers piled on top of a tear prone individual. You might not even want to imagine the kind of flow that went off in my eyes for that one.

High School brought on a different perspective in me, though. That tendency for crying faded off in to a hard built shell of protection. Where I would have needed a box of kleenex for Gandalf fading into the abyss only the year before, now I could essentially 'suck it up' and move on. In school, I had developed a skill for going completely unnoticed. I stayed quiet in class, quiet out of class, and kept to myself. If anyone disturbed that flow of events looking for a quick diatribe, I walked past them as if they were a gentle breeze on a plain fall day. Over time, people started leaving me alone, and that's where movies began to take their place in my life.

By High School I was quite aware that movies were a big part of my life. I've always been quick to change momentary addictions, but movies have always served as the backdrop to any current trend I may be going through. I hadn't seen near on enough to call myself an expert, but I worked at seeing more. I made it a point to go back and digesting as many movies as possible. It became more about the quantity of movies I could see rather than the quality of them. A trait that became all the more complicated with the rise of college.

In my college years and beyond tears were hard to come by. A movie really had to work at it if they wanted me to rock the boat. I had seen all the tricks, all the moves, and was ready and waiting when BFF number one was killed off thirty minutes into the adventure. A few films still had the power to bring out the most gloomy nature inside me. Grave of the Fireflies is often the first one to spring to my mind. No film in my viewing history has moved me quite like that one.

I find it nice to reflect from time to time on how my life and movies so greatly impacted one another throughout the years. How my emotions tweaked and turned the way I weighed and measured them. It makes me wonder what I'll think ten, twenty, or thirty years from now when the circumstances of my life change again.

R.I.P Razamataz "Taz" Helms

14 years

14 hundred tears

14 thousand smiles

14 million memories

None of which quantifies how much I'll always love you

Rest in Peace my oldest, and best friend. 

 October, 1996 - February, 2011