Last night, on a whim, I watched The Amazing Spiderman . I never really got into the comic book superheroes, but I know who they are and what they generally can do, so I thought why not? It was perfect timing, at the change between times, so the movie had just started.
I liked it. Lotsa action and as much science as a layperson can grasp, and Andrew Garfield is a dream, o’ course. Emma Stone is cute, too, but I didn’t watch the film for the faces. If you’re a Marvel junkie and know all the stories, please don’t debate me – I don’t know them besides what I’ve seen of Iron Man 1 and 2 with Robert Downey Jr. [any suggestions, by the way, on where to start if one was to get into the superheroes?]
And throughout the film, I noticed that I just really like watching movies like that. The “impossible” stories – or so they seem. Every time I watch or read a story like that, I wish, with all my dear, hormonal and dream-ridden, 17-year-old heart that I could live in that story. Hell yeah, it would be dangerous and I definitely do not have the nerves of steel and heart of gold like those main characters, but wouldn’t it be a rush?
After some careful thought, I concluded that there are many reasons why this COULDN’T happen:
No troubled past. I don’t have a troubled past. Or at least, I don’t remember anything troubled…ARE YOU HIDING ANY HARDCORE SECRETS FROM ME, M+D? ARE YOU MY REAL PARENTS OR JUST AN AUNT AND UNCLE?!
Not terribly rebellious. I am pretty obedient. I get good grades, I try in school, I have many strong friendships, I’m quiet…I’m “boring.” Plots crave rebels.
I’m…peaceful. My fantasy self-image includes being a graceful yoga master or something like that. I really admire the grace with which people who practice yoga move with. And yoga tones you in a nice way if you practice it. I also don’t like confrontation…I prefer introspection.
I like health. I worry about getting enough sleep, having enough food to get me through the day, exercising or not watching TV for 4 straight hours daily…Do you ever notice that superheroes and fantasy characters never think about food? They probably need food most out of anyone, ever! In Spiderman, the only thing Peter Parker ever eats is a chomp of leftover meatloaf from the fridge; then he also shiftily transports a precarious stack of frozen foods and leftovers out of the kitchen. [Of course, just like non-rebels and non-troubleds are plot repellant, so is boring human stuff like sleeping, eating, showering, using the toilet, having a period, etc. If it doesn’t add something to the plot, or it doesn’t mean something to the reader, then it’s omitted.]
Intellectual soundtrack. I play jazz. Jazz is…not what you’d consider hardcore. I mean, to me jazz is rad because I recognize what’s going on, but to the everyday person, jazz is elevator music. [They are also listening to the wrong kind of jazz.]
No skyscrapers to punch. I live in a wooded area, and while my property in particular is not a farm, there are a lot of farms elsewhere within township limits. Superheroes always live in cities! [Which inevitably fall down because of a brawl between villain and hero, but we never see the aftermath where cleanup begins…another plot repellant.]
* * *
As a girl with hope, and an imagination borne mainly out of the fluffy heat and long days of summer, I can turn this frown upside-down. This is how this COULD work:
Imagination > troubled past. Who needs a troubled past when you are a writer? I can make anything exciting because I have a writer’s imagination. My mind can be anywhere in an instant. Whatwhat.
School’s out. Who am I kidding, school ended. I can be rebellious if I want to – I have a bike and a loony cat. Those are tools of rebellion.
Preparing for battle. There are hardcore yoga poses! There’s the Warriors and Cobra, right? And that kind of focus on the body and mind is hardcore in my book. If I just pretend that I’m honing my body-, mind-, and everywhere else-awareness for any kind of showdown that could happen any time, I’ll be set! Hey, when duty calls, you gotta be ready.
Fanciful narration. Food can easily be made hardcore when you talk about it like this:
“Tomato and Basil demonstrate a particularly keen partnership when battling side-by-side with the Mountain of Pasta in this Italian-style Dish. More than anything else, though, garlic is kicking everyone’s ass tonight.”
Life-or-death performance. I neglected to mention that my instrument is guitar – stereotypically hardcore. And the way to make jazz hardcore is to play it live, so that it is a battle of life and death: you could wimp out and fail, or you could take the music and wrestle it to the ground for the win. [Also known as staying in time, knowing where you are in the form, cooperating with the other musicians, soloing fluidly and till your heart’s content, and having a good time.]
This landscape ain’t fo’ chumps. Climbing trees is hardcore. Making it up the countless hills in a semi-rural neighborhood is a feat worth celebrating. My yard is actually pretty gnarly; it’s one big hill from back to front, and if you walk barefoot on the shards of rock and sticks, you could get hurt! I could develop some sort of parkour routine on the various land features, and adventure by myself into the trees.
As you can see, this lifestyle would require a lot of imagination, but would be nonetheless hardcore. I also think that I should get an A+ from someone for this excellent real-life connection I made to an entire genre of fiction.