Thursday, February 4, 2010

Don't Narrate, Don't Exaggerate, and for Heaven's Sake, Try Not to Apokolokyntate

Could there be a rule that actors, directors, and producers being interviewed for DVD special features are never, ever asked to explain to us what the movie we just saw was about; what the characters they played were like; or what the important themes and messages of the TV show were? Because the reason we're in the special features at all is that we just watched the damn thing, isn't it? And we're not stoopid; we can figure that stuff out for ourselves. Special features are for magical goodness, not boredom!

Could there also be a rule that on such special features, no one is allowed to say that "filming this war scene was just like real war, like, SRSLY"? Because, hi there. You airlifted your entire crew onto a glacier and shot for days and it was very cold and you all worked very hard and you had to repeat some of the shots as many as thirty times and it really was damnably cold and hard and makeup is hard to apply at that temperature and lighting is hard to control and you made a million dollars and I don't argue that it wasn't hard but DO I REALLY NEED TO EXPLAIN WHY I AM OFFENDED BY YOUR COMMENT.


la la la la la

So, want to hear the coolest thing ever (that also has the advantage of me not yelling at anyone)? Last weekend, I learned a new word: apokolokyntosis (uh POCK uh LOCK in TOE siss). It means pumpkinification, or, the act of turning into a pumpkin, and it became a word long before Cinderella's coach was ever in danger of apokolokyntosis. Have you ever heard such a fabulous word as APOKOLOKYNTOSIS? My friend M explained that it's the title of a satire by Seneca, and is a play on the word "apotheosis," the process by which dead Roman emperors became gods. Instead of writing The Apotheosis of the Divine Claudius, Seneca apparently wrote the satirical The Apokolokyntosis of the Divine Claudius. There's more info here, but anyway, isn't it the greatest word ever? Incidentally, some people use the Latin transliteration: apocolocyntosis. I prefer the Greek.

And that's enough ranting and raving for one day.

(Unless you want to go read Scott Westerfeld's great take on the Macmillan-Amazon kerfuffle. Which, to be fair, is neither ranting nor raving.)