Thursday, November 13, 2014

Late to the Show: Anaconda



I finally dared myself to watch "Anaconda" after watching Todd in the Shadows' review of it:


I kept encountering thumbnails in the Internet about how controversial it is. And after hearing it a few times in the radio, I've become curious about the music video. But for a long time, I refused to watch it. I refused to go anywhere near it because I remember how violently I felt about Miley Cyrus' "We Can't Stop" and "Wrecking Ball," and I didn't want that kind of unnecessary negativity in my spirit. So I asked around about the video, and somebody I trust told me that "Anaconda" was so awful it's actually more shocking than anything Lady Gaga came up with.

With Lady Gaga as a reference point, I was somewhat disappointed when I did watch "Anaconda" on YouTube. Besides the overt innuendo and objectification in the video, there was nothing in "Anaconda" that really sets it apart from any other hip-hop hit. Sex sells—Nicki Minaj is all about sexy—you do the math. As for the song, it's fun to listen to; and it doesn't seem to be the kind of song you would really think about when you listen to it—just like any other hip-hop song as of late. It's the same with the music video. I've seen the same kind of imagery before with 50 Cent, Puff Daddy, Pharrell, or Snoop Dogg.

But I do agree with Todd in the Shadows about one thing: that nasty attack on "skinny bitches" toward the end of the song. People, let's get this straight: Becoming comfortable and happy about being on the heavy side does not give anyone license to say that thin people are unattractive. People of all shapes and sizes are beautiful in their own way; let's leave it at that. If you want an example of a beautiful thin person, take Keira Knightley.



Other than that, "Anaconda" isn't all that "shocking" in any way. Before I actually heard the song, I expected that it was shocking because it's about some guy's anaconda, if you know what I mean. That was disappointing, too. I was really expecting Nicki to be singing about admiring her man's anaconda. As a straight woman, I think that would have been pretty interesting. Instead, well, as Todd in the Shadows described it, it only rehashed "Baby Got Back" and added nothing much to it. "If you wanted a song about butts, why don't you just listen to that?" he demanded. You got me, Todd.


Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Slytherin Pride

Last January 2013, Pottermore.com sorted me into Slytherin House. The subsequent disappointment I felt was unsurprising, I suppose, after the Harry Potter books pointed out from the beginning that "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one." Henceforth, Slytherin became synonymous with evil. Not even the token appearance of good-natured Potions teacher Horace Slughorn and the Sorting Hat's urgent plea for unity could undo the damage. It didn't help that even the Slytherin extras in the movies were always smirking and looking at our Gryffindor heroes askance. This didn't give anyone in the audience a chance to see some of them as normal students who just happened to have been sorted into a House with a poor reputation.

It also doesn't help that the characters we are supposed to sympathize with are [conveniently] Gryffindors, who are quick to peg any and all Slytherins as evildoers. Even Professor Dumbledore caught Harry making a face when he learned that Horace Slughorn was a Slytherin. (I'm sure everyone caught themselves making the same face, too.) Who can blame him? Salazar Slytherin himself was rigidly selective of Hogwarts students and even built a chamber housing a monster to kill Muggle-born students; his Heir is the Dark Lord himself. Despicably spoiled brat Draco Malfoy brags about Slytherin; his classist father Lucius is quick to insult humble [Gryffindor] Mr. Weasley; the fathers of many known Slytherin students were Death Eaters; [Gryffindor] Sirius Black hated his entire [Slytherin] family who supported Voldemort but didn't actively follow the Dark Lord. With a roster like that, the fact that Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor and Horace Slughorn was a Slytherin did nothing to correct the Slytherin stereotype. With a reputation like that, you'd have to be a little haughty if you want to become proud to wear green and silver and wear a badge with a serpent on it. And that's another thing: The snake is symbolic of evil in Judeo-Christian tradition; considering Rowling's religious background, this is no coincidence.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn't a mistake that I belonged in Slytherin rather than in Ravenclaw like I expected. I like to think of myself as intelligent, but that wasn't really what defined me. I might be book smart, but I was more like Daria than Jodie. I didn't excel in school because I didn't exert much effort in the subjects I wasn't really interested in; whereas a Ravenclaw might have aced almost everything by putting work where intellect lacks. While I love learning and reading, I was more like the type to take what I learn to build a philosophy or subscribe to one. Doesn't that sound a bit like Draco?

I also realized: I'm not the most charitable person you can think of; as a matter of fact, I have a streak of haughty classism. I hate the stereotype pervading in Philippine pop culture that the rich are cruel, greedy, and selfish while the poor are pure-hearted and willing to share the little they have with others. While there is some truth to this, the greater reality is the opposite, especially where I come from.

The high crime rate in the Philippines can be attributed to the enormous population of people living in poverty. Many of the people living in the city slums produce more children than they can afford and resort to desperate measures like theft, kidnapping, drug pushing, car hijacking, prostitution, and even becoming hired killers, to support themselves—all because they couldn't afford the proper education required by law to get an honest living. Their victims are usually middle- and upper-class people whose wealth they attained by honest work—the same people on whom they typically blame their troubles. This is why I usually hesitate to give alms as many beggars are also syndicates, even children—some of whom who were stolen from maternity wards and raised in dire poverty.

On the flip side, people who have at least gone to public school have some degree of integrity because daily work with peers and authorities teaches you something about respect and responsibility.

Of course, there will be exceptions on both sides. Ethics and morality are incredibly complex matters. When I catch myself mentally belittling another person because of their appearance, I have to remind myself that people aren't always the way they seem. It's something all Slytherins need to learn, even in the books.

This brings me back to the topic at hand: What is it to be a Slytherin? Unlike the other four houses, Slytherin acknowledges the complexity of human nature. As former Hogwarts Headmaster Nigellus Black claims: "We Slytherins are brave, yes, but not stupid. For instance, given the choice, we will always choose to save our own necks." In other words, fear and inclination for self-preservation is nothing to be ashamed of. As we learn from Horace Slughorn's example, it is also not a lapse of integrity to associate with the strong and powerful for the sake of social standing; after all, "It's not what you know; it's who you know." Slytherins aren't the most virtuous of folks, but they tend to be pragmatic. They compensate for their physical or intellectual shortcomings with shrewdness, flexibility, and some degree of social skill. Slytherins do what they can to achieve their goals, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Late to the Show: District 9


While I was in the gym today, the TV was on and the Peter Jackson flick District 9 was playing in a movie channel that I'm not familiar with. I was paying as much attention as I can because it was a very interesting movie, but by the end of it, I felt glad that I didn't watch it in the theater. I'm pretty ambivalent about it. It's the kind of movie that is fun to watch and is a great choice for if you like something that makes you think, but it's also not something I would like to give a second viewing.

The movie starts with a semi-documentary style of cinematography with random interviews intercut with footage of aliens living on Earth. A race of alien creatures nicknamed "prawns" are stranded on Earth and are compelled to settle in South Africa, where the government is launching a relocation program for the prawns. Our hero is idealistic Wikus van der Merwe, an agent of the paramilitary organization Multinational United, who leads the relocation program by issuing eviction notices to the prawns. The prawns are understandably upset about this situation. Wikus, on the other hand, is a righteous kind of guy who does not approve of violence against the prawns.

There are a lot of things I like about this movie. The actors were great. The visuals were great. The characters were believable. It was also refreshing to see a sci-fi film with a contemporary setting rather than the typical futuristic setting. However, something about the concept is a bit off.

District 9 is clearly meant to be a sci-fi allegory of immigration problems and racial tension in first world countries by setting it in South Africa, which has a long history of racial segregation known as the apartheid. The hatred and violence that the humans commit against the prawns are reminiscent of the unfortunate circumstances that happen to many black and Hispanic people even in the United States. We are clearly meant to squirm guiltily in our seats as we watch the humans attack the prawns with little to no provocation, with the morally upright authorities being ironically powerless to stop it. By painting the humans as the villains, we are essentially villains in our own countries for wanting unregistered immigrants (aliens) out of our lands when they're evidently harmless.

But I think there's something wrong with that idea. The further I watch the movie, I don't find myself rooting for the aliens at all. Why shouldn't the humans want them out? If the South African government is going through the trouble of relocating them to an internment camp away from the slums the aliens have built for themselves, why should we feel bad that the prawns feel hurt and refuse to cooperate? If they wanted to go home so badly, why don't they just, y'know, leave?

I think it's not fair for a people of one country have to bend over backwards to respect the "rights" of foreigners who don't even hold the same privileges as the citizens of that country. Of course it's wrong for, for example, an American to be violent toward a Mexican; or for an Italian to spit at a Jew's beard. But there are more issues to consider other than discrimination or violence, like obeying the principles of law and order when you're in somebody else's territory. A host might have the responsiblity to treat their guests right, but the visitor has to be a good guest, too, by removing their shoes, refraining from expletives, and dressing modestly, if necessary.

District 9 seems to oversimplify the moral against racism. Immigration laws are more complicated than racism, and racism is more complex than we probably think, to begin with. District 9 is a good-but-not-great kind of movie. Its flaws are few but jarring. If I got something wrong, feel free to correct me.