Rabbit Holes: Historicism

It’s Lent.  I meant to talk about the simultaneity of Ash Wednesday and Valentine’s Day, but this column is a better treatment of the topic than I could give.

So.  It’s Lent, time of penitence and discipline and observances.  One of my disciplines for this Lent is the study of Isaiah.  I hope to find and commit to a particular theologian’s commentary on it (please leave any suggestions or recommendations in the comments), but in the meantime, there’s the simple act of reading it, of pondering the text itself.

Isaiah’s prophecy and visions regarding the nation of Israel being taken into captivity concern a specific event (or events, as sections of the prophecy point directly to Christ’s birth and his death).  I haven’t actually studied theology in great enough depth to tell you much more than that.

In my reading about God’s judgment of Judah, I came on this verse:

Isaiah 5:7:
For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts
is the house of Israel,
and the men of Judah
are his pleasant planting;
and he looked for justice,
but behold, bloodshed;
for righteousness,
but behold, an outcry!

When you read this in the wake of children being shot at a school in Florida, the bloodshed and outcry of the present day seem inextricable from what war and wickedness went on in Judah.

I got a bit concerned about myself, and whether I was being heretical by applying this scripture to the present concerns – concerned enough to try categorizing it, which meant my brother got a charming e-mail with the subject line “Heresy question.”

He categorized it as personal judgment, and potentially premillennialism.  Reading up on premillennialism suggested that the doctrine to avoid was historicism, which made me wonder if my favorite Lutheran blog had written anything on the subject.

Searching for the term brought this post to my attention.  It’s not actually focused on historicism, mentioning it once and moving on, but examines several other matters worth rumination.

Trent’s discussion of students properly being eager and earnest, of the proper wonder for the world as God’s creation, and of a joy that is serious, have all highlighted to me how I have lost my own zeal, my own earnestness, and thus my own joy:

Joy is not the opposite of seriousness. Joy is rather its concomitant, arising only from that which seriousness alone affords, for joy is the saved soul’s perception of God in His works, which are the good, the true, and the beautiful. The eye of faith takes joy in the good creation of God which it espies beneath the marring of sin, the good world which the fire of heaven will, at the last trumpet, purge and make new. Joy is the highest transfiguration of wonder. It is a deeply serious affair.

I feel convicted, that in the stead of true joy or delight, I might have instead been merely flippant.  But it is my hope that the study and discipline of Lent will pave the way for a wholly joyful Easter.

 

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Rock the Guac!

As a person who has made guacamole for a number of years, to general delight if not outright acclamation, I was surprised to discover something new about preparing it.

I’ve spent years dicing red onion, tomatoes, jalapeno, and cilantro, peeling my garlic, and juicing my limes before finally opening, scooping, and smashing up my avocados (to minimize oxidation time).  I’ve experimented with adding anything from kosher salt to additional dried onion and garlic to cumin to parsley to cayenne.  I knew I didn’t want it to be brown, bland, or overly creamy: it’s best with a few chunks of avocado still recognizable.

Recently, the pantry held a number of properly ripe avocados, perhaps 4, and one rather under-ripe specimen.  I was in a hurry and wanted to use them all, so each half of the under-ripe one was scored horizontally and vertically, then scooped into the bowl with the rest.guacamole ingredients

What follows is alchemy.

Long have I held that the lime juice constitutes a bit of alchemy: it transforms mere mashed avocado into guacamole, transmutes this green lipid into delight.

Cubes of less-ripe, sturdier avocado do something of the same thing, but require less caution to avoid over-mixing.  They prevent utter homogeneity, so that every bite is different in structure and flavor: this one saltier, this one limier, this one hotter, that one with more bite of onion and tang of tomato.  The flavorful spaces contrast with the unflavored avocado itself.  Those chunks are rests, the silences between the power chords of all the other ingredients.

To those of you about to rock some guac, we salute you!guacamole

Obedience to Beauty

I’ve not read much by Hans Urs Von Balthasar, but came across this quotation and thought it worth rumination.  Mention of the inexorable Muse induced me to share it here.

If faith is the attunement and adaptation of the whole of existence to God, then we could just as well call faith obedience, for such indeed it is. But let us not forget the strict obedience exacted even by worldly beauty both from the creating artist and from the re-creating admirer who contemplates and enjoys it.

The artist has an idea which must be realized and which accepts no excuses until the creator has expended his last energies in the service of this coming-into-reality. Service of the beautiful can constitute the hardest kind of asceticism, and so it has been with all the greatest creators.

But all the vital acts of renunciation demanded by the inexorable Muse were directed by the enrapturing impulse to help her enter visibility… In faith, man is at one and the same time artist and artifact. Thus, obedience is not opposed to the beautiful.

– Hans Urs Von Balthasar, Glory of the Lord I, “The Experience of Faith”

It’s been a long, grey, quiet while since I’ve encountered (been inspired by? been driven by) an idea, a picture, a Muse which stood unbending until I did the vision justice in my execution.

100! or, 2017 in retrospect

One of my Facebook friends did a 2017-in-retrospect post, and I decided to try imitating him.  Did mine take a fortnight longer to assemble?  Well, yes.  Surely this comes as no surprise to any of you.

In no particular order (but roughly chronological), these are the top 100 things that made my year.  Not all were necessarily happy items or events, but many were.

  1. Singing at church, either as part of the choir, a trio, or solo
  2. Learning to use Noteflight, both to create my own sheet music (!!!), and to rehearse difficult pieces without a piano
  3. Making a point of using my favorite tiny teacup
  4. Visiting George, Amanda, and their daughters throughout the year: gathering violets, eating sushi, making coasters, playing board games, sledding, reading about Wee Gillis, etc.
  5. Keeping a list of daily to-dos/accomplishments for later review at work
  6. Following proper channels to address a dangerous situation in my apartment building, with eventual results.
  7. Helping my brother with his corned beef feast fundraiser.
  8. Asserting some style with regard to luggage, aka buying a cuter duffle bag in an attempt to stop overpacking on short trips.
  9. Rediscovering audio books
  10. Visiting Hanners in VA and being able to join her other friends for her baby shower
  11. Having monthly dinners with my brother Mark,
  12. and using them to check in with each other about our goals.
  13. Attending absolutely zero weddings.
  14. Celebrating my first niece’s first birthday
  15. Reading a lot of fluffy books: Flavia de Luce, Trenton Stewart, Maryrose Wood, and (okay, less fluffy) Fredrik Backman
  16. Playing Pokemon Go – which, every once in a while, causes you to meet a 60-something-year-old professor who shows you how she’s walked 1000 kilometers playing it.
  17. Helping with a cocktail class – thus being behind the bar at The Last Word.
  18. Getting out my paint to make some pretty vibrant watercolors.
  19. Writing a whopping 14 blog posts for EC. Which is still more than anyone else *gives other muses shifty eyes*
  20. Making homemade vegan Nutella.
  21. Winning a GoodReads giveaway!  Even though I haven’t finished The Benedict Option yet.
  22. Celebrating Shrove Tuesday with folks. We were fully prepared to have a pancake-flipping race, but then it rained.
  23. Being mildly useful at my brother Mark’s house.
  24. Making Deb’s rhubarb chevron bars.
  25. Learning all manner of things from the AADL Summer Game (and going some places I wouldn’t have gone without it!)
  26. Getting some amount of vegetables, and lots of dill, from my brothers’ gardens
  27. Learning the recipe for this chickpea salad to use said dill.
  28. Getting more fish in my diet (also to use said dill, some of the time).
  29. Continuing to be a person who reads fanfiction.
  30. Experimenting with using aquafaba (both for vegan chocolate mousse, and for cocktail fizzes).
  31. Singing Missa Solemnis in Detroit and Toledo.
  32. Laughing with Em over Beer and Board Games.  Also, watching the fabulously awful Crimson Peak.  And Psycho, for the first time ever.
  33. Visiting Dad’s side of the family in June at the JAS III Memorial.
  34. Hang out with Jem and Maddie.
  35. Keeping up with various friends by going to brunch together.
  36. Buying a MacBook Pro.
  37. Combining bourbon, Carpano Antica, and Benedictine without seeing someone else do it first.  Which might mean I accidentally made a Preakness?
  38. Taking some lackluster marketing materials at my firm and improving them substantially
  39. Sharing Dorothy Sayers with more people
  40. Watching The Tempest at this year’s Shakespeare in the Arb.
  41. Encouraging others to sign up for library cards
  42. Visiting Mom’s side of the family in May and July
  43. Watching a lot of the Great British Bakeoff.
  44. Started listening to 90.9, the classical station, in order to be less heartbroken.
  45. Utilizing InfiniteLooper during work or workouts or cleaning marathons.
  46. Improving my approach to eyebrow makeup, if slightly.
  47. Going to Stratford, Canada with my friends to see Guys and Dolls (for the first time), 12thNight, and HMS Pinafore.
  48. Starting to get Mum and Dad ready to move out of Warwick
  49. Learning some Gaelic (or, well. Faking it convincingly) in honor of Bob
  50. Finally reading The Handmaid’s Tale
  51. Taking charge of preparing music for the Tolkien feast, including a book of popular pub tunes for everyone to sing
  52. Learning some fundamentals of CSS and HTML with CodeAcademy
  53. Getting into Rundle D on LearnedLeague (when I’d previously been in E) and not being immediately kicked back out
  54. Trying Blue Apron for free, so as to have Opinions about it, and actually cancelling timely
  55. Trying a jackfruit (they really are the party fruit!), passionfruit, and mirto.
  56. Celebrating St. Augustine with readings and poires St. Helene.
  57. Taking a winery tour of the Old Mission Peninsula to celebrate my roommate’s finishing grad school
  58. Hanging paper and tea towels to liven up the walls.
  59. Taking care of certain aspects of home maintenance; tightening screws on closet doors and saucepan handles is very satisfying.
  60. Starting a ketogenic diet.
  61. Catching Carbon Leaf at The Ark.
  62. Tugging a friend onto Tumblr *steeples fingers wickedly*
  63. Joining the St. Paul Young Adult Bible study (after years of frustration that every Bible study seemed to meet during the workday)
  64. Using Google Calendar more than I had been, to some effect
  65. Buying ice skates, and actually going skating with them at least once.
  66. Discovering the musical stylings of Lizzy Shell! I meant to blog about this woman for you – suffice it to say that I love her lyrics a lot.
  67. Celebrating the feast of Crispin Crispian with French food and Henry V excerpts.
  68. Figuring out an apartment-friendly Quiet Workout, and doing it somewhat regularly.
  69. Measuring self and keeping keto for two months.
  70. Utilizing Google Doc of tracking/rewards/goals to encourage myself,
  71. and checking in on a daily subreddit as well.
  72. Walking through my first corn maze!
  73. Bidding farewell to my brother from the firm we’ve both worked at since 2009.
  74. Celebrating the feast of St. Bruno at Chartreuse, which restaurant we’ve been wanting to visit for years.
  75. Losing twenty pounds and fitting into things I hadn’t fit in, and buying smaller jeans: a thing that has not happened in the past decade.
  76. Drinking tea/coffee without sugar and liking it, and similarly, doctoring my soda water with Regan’s No. 6 orange bitters and not missing potables.  For the first time ever, I’ve used an entire bottle of bitters!
  77. Adding Glitter and Gold to my list of Songs That Make Most Any Task Possible.
  78. Attempting a bodyweight fitness routine – I’ve a long way to go, but the idea of potentially being able to do a handstand eventually…it beckons.
  79. Finally reading Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
  80. Singing in a 300-person celebration chorus for the 500th anniversary of the Reformation
  81. Actually hitting the unsubscribe button on some things.  Doubtless I should hit it a few more times, but still.  Progress.
  82. Facilitating my roommate meeting one of my co-workers, as well as my friend Ruth.
  83. Buying new blush for the first time in a very long while.
  84. Roasting radishes and spaghetti squash, to my own enjoyment.
  85. Finally reading Macbeth.
  86. Hearing and seeing Chanticleer with friends.
  87. Singing Bernstein’s 3rd symphony with the NY Philharmonic and Jeremy Irons.
  88. Meeting my second niece, Lucy Rose.
  89. Buying winter boots that actually cover a part of my calves and fit.
  90.  Watching my nieces (while at least one parent went on a hunting trip)
  91. Celebrating my 30thbirthday with my roommate and friends
  92. Finishing Frankenstein, which has plagued my “currently reading” on GoodReads for 3 years.
  93. Joining George in a December writing challenge, even if I didn’t write much.
  94. Observing Our Lady of Guadalupe and my roommate’s explication of why tequila is a second-class relic.
  95. Watching Stranger Things (and part of ST2).
  96. Sending out Christmas cards. Have I had some of said cards since 2011?  Yes.
  97. Negotiating various new systems: new attorneys, new phones, new court sites, and so on.
  98. Receiving my first ever live Christmas tree.  Did it still have needles by Christmas?  Well, a few.
  99. Assisting my roommate with yarn (having gotten better at using the swift and having improved my detangling strategy).
  100. Hearing the Boys Choir of Ann Arbor and thus discovering a deep fondness for “Carol of the Stranger.”

What were the highlights of your past year?  Here’s hoping that 2018 includes just as much learning and growing!

Review: The Handmaid’s Tale

This book has been on my to-read list for ages, and got bumped up a few spots by the creation of the Hulu miniseries – not that I necessarily want to watch the show, you understand, but because I want to be familiar with the story should it come up indiscussion.

I ripped through nearly 400 pages in a day, which indicates handmaids talethat my brain is getting up to former speeds, or it’s a very compelling book, or both.  Atwood’s prose is verbal titanium: light, swift, easy to comprehend; but strong, sturdy, full of ideas to unpack.

I’d seen it called dystopian, science fiction, or speculative fiction, and wondered about that; the book cover I’d seen most often seemed to depict a white mouse in a red dress in a castle, which didn’t seem to fit any such categories.  But, in fact, it is a woman required to wear red clothing and a vision-obscuring white hat, passing the wall where the day’s political dead are hung on hooks as an example (though these, thankfully, are not shown on the cover as well).

The book’s premise: the American birthrate had fallen below replacement level, due to both the usual suspects (birth control, abortion, infertility, disease) and some unusual ones (genetic deformities, stillbirths, and miscarriages brought on by the combined effects of nuclear waste, biochemical weapons, toxic dumping, pesticide, etc.).  Against such a backdrop, a cultish cabal of right-wing theonomists (or something like) assassinates the President and Congress, wresting control amid the resulting martial law; they quickly illegalize women holding either jobs or property; and women young and healthy enough to bear children are captured and herded into “re-education centers,” before being assigned to families of sufficiently high rank but sufficiently few offspring.

The protagonist – known by the patronymic “Offred” as she cannot use her real name in Fred, “the Commander’s” household – reveals her earlier life in snatches: her mother had raised her alone, Moira was her best friend, she’d been a man’s mistress and later his wife, they had a daughter; one day she lost her job and access to her bank account; she and Luke attempted to flee (from Boston or thereabouts) to Canada, at which point she was captured and brought to the Red Center; and throughout her time as a handmaid, she wonders where Luke might be, simultaneously believing that he’s escaped and that he’s dead.

Day-to-day existence involves guarding her tongue around everyone, as other handmaids might be spying for the Guardians or Eyes; buying household supplies using pictograms, since women aren’t allowed to read; checking the wall to see if Luke’s body has been hooked on it; periodically reading the words Nolite te bastardes carborundorum where they are carved into the bottom of her wardrobe; and literally lying in the lap of Serena Joy, the Commander’s wife, while the Commander copulates with her – thus acting as Serena Joy’s ‘handmaid.’   Kind of like the Biblical story of Jacob, Rachel, and Rachel’s maid Bilhah, except several degrees creepier.  Handmaids who successfully conceive, come to term, and bear a healthy child (a rarity) are given more respect and privileges, if not the freedom that existed before Gilead: the (municipality? region? country? I don’t believe this is made clear) that has been created in the wake of the United States.

I expected the book to be nothing but an attack: an attack on Christians; an attack on traditional values; a story that, above all, insisted that women not be subject to the original nature of their own bodies; a defense of ‘reproductive freedom’ that condemned anyone who wanted to get pregnant and bear children.

Some might still read it that way.  The Biblical quotations used (and how they are twisted) have surely misled many people who know nothing else about Christianity or the Bible to believe that the whole faith hates women and seeks only to cast and keep them down.  There are surely people who think the Sons of Jacob enact what Christians believe, and sadly there are enough different denominations out there that for a handful of people, it might be true.  But I expect that most Christians find The Handmaid’s Tale as outrageous and terrifying a world as any secular reader.

To my eyes, as written, this story is not an attack on pregnancy or motherhood per se; some of the most moving parts of the novel are those moments where Offred remembers her husband and her child.  She wants her former freedoms, yes, but she also wants to be held, to be known, to be loved.  She wants to see how big her 8-year-old has gotten, wants to mother her instead of whatever stranger has claimed that privilege.  Meanwhile, there comes a point where Offred plays the Commander’s mistress rather than a mere vessel for his seed.  What does he want with her?  A kiss (like she means it); to look over now-forbidden magazines; to see her in now-forbidden clothing; and most hilariously, to play games of Scrabble.  He wants company, and has to creep about after midnight to get it: a sad state for the men, too, if not anywhere as horrifying as mandated rape.

The story Offred shares is what she and the other handmaids undergo.  What she is not in a position to share is how exactly it got that way.  Who started this unChristlike initiative?  If the birthrate is what actually matters, why entrust the begetting solely to the higher-ranking but less fertile men?  Who demanded this amount of power, backing it up with a private military force with lots and lots of guns?  How extensive is Gilead, and how long could it possibly last before the biggest revolution in history occurs?

As in any dystopia, the power behind the curtain is shadowy at best.  Presumably the TV series will provide answers, carefully chosen to resemble current political figures more closely.  All we can know from reading the book is that Gilead cannot last, except in the studies of later scholars who themselves study the handmaid’s tale.

doggerel, occasioned by cocoa butter

If you aren’t brand new here, you know that I’ve got mild depression, which gets a bit less mild when the weather turns colder and the days shorter.

Thalia has long commended cocoa butter to my use, for days when ye olde brain chemicals are not leaping to attention as they should be, and promised to send me some back in September to sample.  “Maybe you won’t love it?  Maybe it won’t be worth your while, in which case you would REALLY hate spending $16-30 on a pound of it.  But maybe you’ll put it in your coffee and it will make you want to SING!”

I have been advised that this parcel is now in the mail, and shall reach me next week!

It’s certainly too early for Christmas carols, and a skosh too early for Advent hymns, but…now is the acceptable time for this silly rhyme:

Come, O long-expected cocoa,
Fashioned to aid our minds as we

bear the pangs of Eve’s transgression,
mood swings that join her legacy – 
You, O therobroma unguent,
You, O moisturizer sweet,
Come and allay our gloom and sadness,
In our coffee, or as we eat!

cocoa butter

Review: Loving Vincent

My roommate and I went to see Loving Vincent at the Michigan Theater yesternight.  I’d heard about it on Tumblr – that some enterprising folks had labored to make a movie about Vincent van Gogh where every frame of the action was a painting: 65,000 frames in all, either based directly on van Gogh’s pieces or in imitation of his style, to a rich and striking effect.

The animation of it – stroke by stroke changing, flickering, the whole scene rippling and shifting – was more remarkable than the storyline initially.  The postman’s son, Armand Roulin, is charged by his father to deliver one last letter (recently discovered, a year after Vincent’s death) to Vincent’s brother Theo.  Armand goes in reluctance, remarking on van Gogh’s peculiarities and how he wasn’t so close to the man as his father was.  He consults Père Tanguy, who informs him that Theo died shortly after Vincent, and suggests that Armand consult Vincent’s doctor – a close friend to his patient – to learn the address of Theo’s widow.

armand

Armand as painted by van Gogh, and as played by Douglas Booth

As Armand goes from his father to Tanguy, talking to Dr. Gachet’s housekeeper, to the innkeeper’s daughter, to the boatman by the river, to Dr. Gachet, and still others, he learns more and more about Vincent: his personality, his habits, the melancholy that hung over him, the brother he loved, the financial worries they shared, and the circumstances of his death.  These perspectives sometimes conflict (“You can’t trust any gossip from the Gachet household,” then “I suppose that’s what the Ravoux girl told you?” and, later, “You’ve been talking to Dr. Mazery, haven’t you”), but in Armand’s search for the truth, sifting through opinions and hearsay and unofficial reports, he finds his own appreciation of and love for Vincent.

The conflicting reports – Vincent was completely calm; he was cured; how could he experience such abrupt shifts within 6 weeks; don’t you know that melancholy can cause rapid shifts in 6 hours; suicidal people don’t shoot themselves in the stomach; normal people don’t cut off their ears; the angle indicates he received this stomach wound from someone else; well, he told me he’d shot himself – turn Armand’s errand into a bit of a crime scene investigation, but without losing sight of the human players involved.

The framing is straightforward but intriguing in its revelation of different lights on the subject: the boatman reckons van Gogh and the doctor’s daughter were close, closer than the doctor wanted.  Others thought the doctor, an aspiring artist, envious of Vincent’s skill.  Several characters refer to a huge fight between Vincent and Dr. Gachet, which preceded Vincent’s death by a couple weeks, before the doctor himself reveals what horrible thing he’d said.

These bits of exposition, or flashbacks depicting the story as the bystanders relate it, were painted in black and white, in a more realistic style, setting them apart from Armand’s journey.  When the letter finally reaches Theo’s widow, Armand receives a copy of one of Vincent’s earlier letters to encourage him on his own path.

It is a beautiful film, especially rewarding to those who recognize The Zouave, The Night Café, The Yellow House, The Sower at Sunset, Wheatfield with Crows, and the many other works used in the storyboard.  The facts of the matter – that Vincent’s youth was hallmarked by failure, that his prolific work did not sell in his lifetime, that he struggled with poverty and mental illness, that he died at 37 – are never hidden, and as presented, they made me cry a lot.  But rather than focusing solely on the blue and grey of van Gogh’s life, the movie is awash in shades of amber, saffron, and goldenrod: contemplative and hopeful at the last.

Reactions: Thor: Ragnarok

This (again) is not a review so much as a collection of reactions – in bullet point form, because there’s nothing like shooting my thoughts out into the wild.  Assume spoilers are ahead, if you’re the sort of person who fears that sort of thing.

  • For a film called Ragnarok, whose trailer had huge dramatic shots of Hela crushing Mjolnir, fire over Asgard, and lots of fighting in general, this was a colorful, light-hearted movie.  
  • Pretty 80s.  Sakaar made me think of Ready Player One for some reason, as did theGrandmaster Grandmaster, despite the fact that no egg-hunting of any sort was involved.
  • A+ use of “The Immigrant Song.”
  • Thor and Loki were both goofier than I expected.  I keep getting surprised by how effective tasers are against the god of thunder (and the god of mischief, to boot)
  • Likewise, it’s odd to me that Dr. Strange’s reflexes are fast enough to surprise them. 
  • Loki playing Odin and watching plays about himself makes perfect sense, while simultaneously confusing the part of me that expects more gravitas of him.  Maybe that is my fault for expecting the consummate Slytherin where I should be braced for the Weasley Twins.
  • On the other hand: surely the Weasley twins would never be ashamed of “Get help” if it continued to work.
  • Karl Urban and BTCC’s accents always make me laugh so hard, because what are you?  
  • Hela’s pretty one-note, but she’s more interesting than the Destroyer, Laufey, Malekith, Algrim, or Surtur.  Not as interesting as Loki, I guess.
  • I looooved Korg, who was apparently played by the director.  Something about motion capture + straightforward delivery + his voice = instant hilarity.
  • Valkryrie’s arc was very satisfying to me.  The old battles and painful defeats, the escape to a life of drudgery, the heavy drinking, the decision to face death on her feet: all this was conveyed so neatly.  
  • I cackled at the idea of Odin being left in an old folks home.  
  • I don’t like the concept of leaving actresses out just because you don’t feel like paying them…but…I was relieved Jane was gone.  Farewell, Utter Lack Of Chemistry Foster.
  • The Grandmaster is a good time.  
  • Fenris is just a big puppy?!  I couldn’t suspend my disbelief and see him as a huge wolf.  He just looked like a puppy on a tiny-scaled set.
  • Mjolnir being a mere focus of power reminded me of silent, wandless magic.  Thor going all lightning-punchy was amazing, but it reminded me of nothing so much as Pikachu.

    Thor lightning.png

    I choose you!

  • Thor swearing with Midgardian curse words struck me as…impoverished, really.  Why would you say “I want to get the hell out of here!” when you used to say things like “Know this, son of Coul” and “This mortal form has grown weak!  I need sustenance!” and “Do I look to be in a gaming mood?”  Presumably this was part of the “less grim, more fun!” action plan, but…semi-archaic verbiage IS fun.   
  • I was amused to see Tessa Thompson’s Scrapper 142/Valkyrie described as ‘Thor’s love interest’ in articles thereafter, because I didn’t get any such vibe.  But he knows her enough and respects her enough that any further development would be more believable than anything with Jane Foster, so I’m all for that.


In short: good times!  Now, if only it didn’t take 37 hours to watch all 17 of the movies involved in this universe.