Not going to bother with an excuse for how long it’s been since I last posted. I don’t have one. I can hope that this will hit my momentum to start posting more often, but I promise nothing.
As per my usual in-person storytelling style, the needlessly detailed story of what I did past year:
So fall 2010 when I came to campus, I was sure from the start that I wanted to be involved with some form of storytelling. I wanted to be a filmmaker/screenwriter (hence the major in Electronic Media Production), but would have been okay with anything that needed stories -- video games, radio dramas, magazine serials.
I began looking for an independent film group, but couldn’t find one. Someone suggested a group called “College Summit,” but its group description seemed to imply most of their films were in some form of awareness raising. That wasn’t what I needed.
I tried to get my own group started, and got together a motley young band of mostly freshmen and sophomores who wanted to get involved as well. Once a few of us were gathered, though, I went to a professor, who suggested that I look for another professor named Traci Williams who had already made the sort of group I was trying to make. I quickly wrote her name (on my arm with a Sharpie, since that was the only writing device I could find handy), looked her up, and sent her an email.
After a very long game of phone tag, I finally came in contact with Traci, and she told me about her group: “College Summit.” It’s actually Kent’s independent film group, made by collaboration of several departments. They were just finishing up their first feature-length film, a martial arts thriller called Breaking News.
I went to the premiere of Breaking News, and managed to join the filmmaking class to become involved in the next film that spring semester. Though I went into the preproduction class with hopes of being a writer, I quickly saw and accepted that I wasn’t ready.
Over the course of that spring, I watched our class discussions become a script. I watched as parts of that script became a song. I watched the characters develop faces and personalities in casting. I watched as all the details I never knew I never knew about film slowly fell into place. I watched, learned, and tried to help as much as I could.
I went into summer’s production with the same attitude, and quickly developed a reputation with several other crew members for being willing to help and work. Those two months are possibly the highlight of my entire year, spending almost all day of almost every day doing a variety of tasks (some interesting, some more mundane) to help MAKE A MOVIE. After a lot of stress, frustrating reorganization, and insanely toasty sets (lights heat up quickly), the filming was finally complete.
Fall post-production I saw bits of the editing and marketing process, and continued to help out where I could. “Where I could” was a bit more limited than spring and summer, but I still got to watch and learn about parts of filmmaking and editing that most people don’t even think much about.
Finally, on December 8th, the day of release came. Seeing the film in its finished form was incredible. Watching as the ideas a few people threw out early on in class become actual plots and characters. Seeing how the college students I met at the spring and summer orientations became my commiserators, partners and friends over summer. Reflecting on how I learned more about what I want to do and how to do them in this experience alone more than my first three semesters of “major” classes combined.
It’s insane to think about how much has happened over the course of 12 months. God has, as always, continued his old habit of letting pieces fall into place at all the right times. I can’t wait to be involved with the next film!
Congratulations to our directors, to the cast, and to my fellow crew members for a successful year of making a fricken movie!
-Caleb Ference
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Thursday, June 30, 2011
All I Owe
When I was in middle school, I was completely home schooled. This was actually a good thing for me, because I moved at a MUCH slower pace than most people. I don’t know how much of it was me not being able to focus because of my Aspergers, and I don’t know how much of it was just me being lazy, but rarely was I able to do a days worth of work in a single day. I was often in tears over the fact that school would always take up almost my entire day, sometimes my weekends, too, while it seemed like my siblings and friends only lost a few hours a day to school. During this turmoil, my mom made one of the riskiest decisions she’s made to date in her parenting; she enrolled me in CROWN.
For those who don’t already know, CROWN (Christian Reflection Of Wisdom and kNowledge, for those who don’t know. Part of CFA, CHEC Family Academy, which is itself a function of Christian Home Educator’s Co-op, aka CHEC.) Is a weekly co-op where I met with other students and we took classes once a week. Our homework had weekly due dates, so we were forced to keep up, while still maintaining some day-to-day flexibility. Not a good combo for people who can’t do their homework even without due dates.
Going into CROWN, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had attended CFA electives during their weekly co-op that met for 10-week semesters, and I loved the co-op. The classes I was in were fun, informal, and required very little homework (though some of them, such as Mrs. Heisler’s writing class, did help plant seeds that became some of my academic strengths later). CROWN, however, was a stricter form of this formula. We met once a week for classes, but these were no electives. English, History, Science, and other such subjects. They were also far more formal; we HAD to get our work done each week, which I wasn’t sure I was capable of doing. My mom was throwing me into a lake where I was going to either learn to quickly swim, or instantly sink to the bottom.
Somehow, I did a mixture of both. I managed to get my work done most weeks, with a few slip-ups, but where my life fell apart was in 9th grade. My second year of CROWN was less fantastic. I missed or turned in late/incomplete a huge amount of homework. Enough that, according to the official handbook’s rules, I should have been given enough demerits to be suspended or expelled. However, my english teacher at the time (Guida Sweitzer, who is also largely responsible for my current writing skills), knew me well enough that she knew I wasn’t a class-shirking jerk and helped make arrangements for me to get extensions or forgiveness of some of my problems. I struggled with this throughout my 3rd and 4th year, and my fifth year was only easy because it was mostly electives.
Throughout most of my academic career, I almost always found myself relying on the grace of luckily-placed people, and the incredible patience of my teachers and parents. It is by nothing less than God’s grace that I even managed to graduate high school. This is a humbling memory for me, and makes me realize that I really am powerless without God’s intervention.
A year later, I have finished my first year at Kent with a 3.89 GPA, and have earned respect from a lot of my classmates and teachers for my work ethic and attitude. I find it hard to believe that the boy who cried at the long book he had to spend all evening trying to understand and focus on is really the slightly older boy who is typing this and doing even better than he anticipated at Kent. It really does show me God’s power in my life, as well as my helplessness without him. Everything I am, even the things people claim came from my own hard work and effort, I owe to my creator.
Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
-Caleb Ference
For those who don’t already know, CROWN (Christian Reflection Of Wisdom and kNowledge, for those who don’t know. Part of CFA, CHEC Family Academy, which is itself a function of Christian Home Educator’s Co-op, aka CHEC.) Is a weekly co-op where I met with other students and we took classes once a week. Our homework had weekly due dates, so we were forced to keep up, while still maintaining some day-to-day flexibility. Not a good combo for people who can’t do their homework even without due dates.
Going into CROWN, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had attended CFA electives during their weekly co-op that met for 10-week semesters, and I loved the co-op. The classes I was in were fun, informal, and required very little homework (though some of them, such as Mrs. Heisler’s writing class, did help plant seeds that became some of my academic strengths later). CROWN, however, was a stricter form of this formula. We met once a week for classes, but these were no electives. English, History, Science, and other such subjects. They were also far more formal; we HAD to get our work done each week, which I wasn’t sure I was capable of doing. My mom was throwing me into a lake where I was going to either learn to quickly swim, or instantly sink to the bottom.
Somehow, I did a mixture of both. I managed to get my work done most weeks, with a few slip-ups, but where my life fell apart was in 9th grade. My second year of CROWN was less fantastic. I missed or turned in late/incomplete a huge amount of homework. Enough that, according to the official handbook’s rules, I should have been given enough demerits to be suspended or expelled. However, my english teacher at the time (Guida Sweitzer, who is also largely responsible for my current writing skills), knew me well enough that she knew I wasn’t a class-shirking jerk and helped make arrangements for me to get extensions or forgiveness of some of my problems. I struggled with this throughout my 3rd and 4th year, and my fifth year was only easy because it was mostly electives.
Throughout most of my academic career, I almost always found myself relying on the grace of luckily-placed people, and the incredible patience of my teachers and parents. It is by nothing less than God’s grace that I even managed to graduate high school. This is a humbling memory for me, and makes me realize that I really am powerless without God’s intervention.
A year later, I have finished my first year at Kent with a 3.89 GPA, and have earned respect from a lot of my classmates and teachers for my work ethic and attitude. I find it hard to believe that the boy who cried at the long book he had to spend all evening trying to understand and focus on is really the slightly older boy who is typing this and doing even better than he anticipated at Kent. It really does show me God’s power in my life, as well as my helplessness without him. Everything I am, even the things people claim came from my own hard work and effort, I owe to my creator.
Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
-Caleb Ference
Sunday, May 22, 2011
The World may not be Burning to the Ground, but let's see How Far I've Come...
I find it ironic that the post I labeled as "(not) my last." Ended up being my last for that semester at least. Would have been my last ever if Harold Camping had been right. Posting once a month turned out to be more than I felt like, but hopefully over summer I can kick back in. Looking back, however, I'm seeing the growth i made this semester and am amazed by what God has done.
In the subject of my Aspergers, I came on campus under the assumption that I had more or less caught up with my Aspergers struggles. I had come so far, how much farther could I really have to go? I was a victorious champion proudly awaiting his next challenge to overcome... Only to be wiped out within moments of entering the next arena.
It took a while for me to become disillusioned, but after I while I noticed that I had been missing social cues, unintentionally offending people, and retaining my habit of speaking out to loud or long at all the wrong times. It got incredibly frustrating at times trying to guess whether someone I was talking to was interested in what I was saying, or just putting up with me and wanted me to leave them alone. Several times I would approach and greet friends, enter into a conversation, only to find out later that I had unwittingly interrupted a girls' night or a "serious conversation."
Before I continue, I want to apologize to anyone I might have bothered or intruded on without realizing it over the past years, and emphasize to any of my readers who have friends, students, or children with AS, that we often struggle to understand what isn't outright told to us. I, personally, would rather have an awkward moment of hearing and realizing a person isn't interested in talking to me than have them later resent me for not picking up on their disinterest.
Back to the story, however. I realized this and made a more conscious effort to pick up on what people were saying, and more importantly, outright ask if I could/should begin or continue a conversation. I also was lucky enough to have a few friends who were both loving and honest in how they brought up my struggles (I'm giving a shoutout to Matt Branco who was a huge source of both helpful encouragement and gentle correction whenever I needed either). Because of this, I've grown in ways I haven't even imagined this year, and hope that I can remain humbly teachable throughout the next three years.
The worst disillusions, however, came in a more simple form: simple pictures and videos of myself. As someone who imagined himself as having defeated his social struggles and become "cool," nothing was more discouraging that seeing an acne-ridden, slouching, awkward little twenty-year-old with a receding hairline and a Facebook tag box with my name on his face. I remembered all the friends I met in high school, who would often complain about how they looked in pictures, and I finally began to understand their pain.
Until I remembered why I didn't understand them in the first place...
When people I know talk about not liking having their picture taken, I find their dislike ridiculous. Okay, maybe they didn't enjoy seeing themselves with physical flaws and all, but I did. Some of my most treasured memories are trapped inside those hundreds of awkward pictures of me and my fellow teenagers, who I enjoyed being around so much that I don't even see the flaws, even now.
That was the most encouraging realization I've had in a long time. That zitty, unshaven college student? That's also the guy all my friends enjoy being friends with. I might not like the look of that guy, but everyone who I thought loved the "cool," more socially adept me, in fact loved him. Him of the inappropriate chatter, the awkwardly low-pitched laugh, the stupid jokes it might have been better not to tell, and the allergic latex rashes covering his neck and face. It was both strange and beautiful that so many people could be friends with this guy.
I then realized, how much more strange and beautiful it is that GOD loves me. The guy who has counted both the hairs on my head and the pimples in my pores, who is more than fully and intimately aware of every personal flaw I can barely admit to myself, LOVES me. Is nuts for me. Died for me so that I can be with him. How crazy is that?
Anyway, that's it for my blog post this time. Hopes are high that the next one shall not be as distant.
-Caleb Ference
In the subject of my Aspergers, I came on campus under the assumption that I had more or less caught up with my Aspergers struggles. I had come so far, how much farther could I really have to go? I was a victorious champion proudly awaiting his next challenge to overcome... Only to be wiped out within moments of entering the next arena.
It took a while for me to become disillusioned, but after I while I noticed that I had been missing social cues, unintentionally offending people, and retaining my habit of speaking out to loud or long at all the wrong times. It got incredibly frustrating at times trying to guess whether someone I was talking to was interested in what I was saying, or just putting up with me and wanted me to leave them alone. Several times I would approach and greet friends, enter into a conversation, only to find out later that I had unwittingly interrupted a girls' night or a "serious conversation."
Before I continue, I want to apologize to anyone I might have bothered or intruded on without realizing it over the past years, and emphasize to any of my readers who have friends, students, or children with AS, that we often struggle to understand what isn't outright told to us. I, personally, would rather have an awkward moment of hearing and realizing a person isn't interested in talking to me than have them later resent me for not picking up on their disinterest.
Back to the story, however. I realized this and made a more conscious effort to pick up on what people were saying, and more importantly, outright ask if I could/should begin or continue a conversation. I also was lucky enough to have a few friends who were both loving and honest in how they brought up my struggles (I'm giving a shoutout to Matt Branco who was a huge source of both helpful encouragement and gentle correction whenever I needed either). Because of this, I've grown in ways I haven't even imagined this year, and hope that I can remain humbly teachable throughout the next three years.
The worst disillusions, however, came in a more simple form: simple pictures and videos of myself. As someone who imagined himself as having defeated his social struggles and become "cool," nothing was more discouraging that seeing an acne-ridden, slouching, awkward little twenty-year-old with a receding hairline and a Facebook tag box with my name on his face. I remembered all the friends I met in high school, who would often complain about how they looked in pictures, and I finally began to understand their pain.
Until I remembered why I didn't understand them in the first place...
When people I know talk about not liking having their picture taken, I find their dislike ridiculous. Okay, maybe they didn't enjoy seeing themselves with physical flaws and all, but I did. Some of my most treasured memories are trapped inside those hundreds of awkward pictures of me and my fellow teenagers, who I enjoyed being around so much that I don't even see the flaws, even now.
That was the most encouraging realization I've had in a long time. That zitty, unshaven college student? That's also the guy all my friends enjoy being friends with. I might not like the look of that guy, but everyone who I thought loved the "cool," more socially adept me, in fact loved him. Him of the inappropriate chatter, the awkwardly low-pitched laugh, the stupid jokes it might have been better not to tell, and the allergic latex rashes covering his neck and face. It was both strange and beautiful that so many people could be friends with this guy.
I then realized, how much more strange and beautiful it is that GOD loves me. The guy who has counted both the hairs on my head and the pimples in my pores, who is more than fully and intimately aware of every personal flaw I can barely admit to myself, LOVES me. Is nuts for me. Died for me so that I can be with him. How crazy is that?
Anyway, that's it for my blog post this time. Hopes are high that the next one shall not be as distant.
-Caleb Ference
Sunday, February 20, 2011
The Last Post (Not really): The Cycle I see
A while ago, I went to see one of my professors giving a “last lecture” speech (Dr. Secaur, for those who go to Kent and have heard of him). Though it was not really his last lecture, the idea is from a book called The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. The book has inspired many professors to give a lecture saying what they would say if they only had time for one final lecture about what matters most to them, or what final knowledge they would like to impart on their students before they go. This specific professor had mentioned (in passing) a few times in class that he is a Christian, and the classes I’ve taken with him are some of my favorites (he goes well beyond the extra mile to keep the classes interesting), so I relished the chance to hear him speak.
The lecture wasn’t as spiritually-oriented as I was hoping (instead touching largely on his political beliefs), but it gave me the chance to really see what motivates him and what really matters to him. The thing that stuck with me the most though was the idea itself of a “last (not really) lecture.” I had just become much more familiar with one of my teachers, getting to know him better in less than an hour than I had in any single class period. The entire idea of giving one final (not really) speech to impart one final (not really) idea or value to students was so incredibly deep and thought-provoking to me, and I think it’s one of the most important questions that anyone, especially a teacher or a writer, can ask themselves. Here, then, I decided that I want to write one final (not really) blog post, explaining what the last (not really) thing I would say on here would be if I only had time to say one thing.
Being someone who is constantly absorbing new stories through video games, movies, and books, as well as often trying to come up with new stories, I’m finding that between symbols, allusions, and archetypes that there really are only a handful of plots. Everything is somehow a retelling of something else, from a different story or group of stories, or even from within itself (as is often the case with symbols and foreshadowing). In Harry Potter, for example, much of what happens seems similar to other fantasy stories, or earlier in the series, such as Ron and Harry’s argument and estrangement in Goblet of Fire being very similar to the unrelated and far larger rift that appears in Deathly Hallows. I often try to reflect this idea in my own story writing -- having smaller stories and events reflect what will later occur in the grander plot, or sometimes be a tribute to stories or TV shows I enjoy.
In a lot of ways, I see this constant paralleling happening in real life as well, certain events seem to repeat themselves in unrelated ways, the same story occurring in different places and in different forms. It seems like life history and science itself are filled with the simple cycles of “corruption” and “redemption.” Great kings fall before personal shortcomings, or else overcome them. Chemical reactions change or ruin physical things, but these changes often do a lot of good, and even if not, the changes are sometimes reversible under certain circumstances. And in my personal life I constantly see things being broken before me, only for the pieces to fall into place, forming something new and beautiful.
This great repeating corruption/redemption story appears most importantly in the Bible, with all 66 books being several retellings of the same story -- mankind is corrupted and falls short, unable to do anything to come back to who they were, only for Christ to come and sacrifice himself to cleanse us. Make us as we were before, and often even more. If anyone has not heard the sermon “The Fourth Man; Christ throughout Scripture, (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZcjW3DSbMeI)” I would recommend it strongly, as it shows just how everything in the Bible, just like everything in life, points to the simple story or corruption and redemption that is the center of humanity itself.
I truly believe that this story comes from the story of humanity’s corruption and redemption through Jesus, and it is in that story that I see the thing that perhaps separates the corruption from the redemption, and the evil from the good -- selflessness. It was Jesus’ selfless love that saved us. This selflessness is why I try my best (though I don’t claim to always succeed) to be humble and serving to others. Not because of any sort of rule, but because I want to parallel, as best as I can, the love and selflessness that saved me and defines who I am now.
This is also why I dislike movies like the Twilight Saga and find it hard to relate to so many modern antiheroes -- most of the characters preform “good” or “loving” actions for their own sake, rather than for the sake of others. The reason I am often cynical of dating and relationships is that so many are seen to be simply about how the other makes THEM feel, rather than honestly about any true or selfless love for the other. This selfless love is what I want to base my life on, and should I die before I post again, I want my last (not really) post to be about this selflessness.
So how about you? What motivates you? If the comment you were about to leave would be the last (not really) thing you said before you died, what would you say?
-Caleb
The lecture wasn’t as spiritually-oriented as I was hoping (instead touching largely on his political beliefs), but it gave me the chance to really see what motivates him and what really matters to him. The thing that stuck with me the most though was the idea itself of a “last (not really) lecture.” I had just become much more familiar with one of my teachers, getting to know him better in less than an hour than I had in any single class period. The entire idea of giving one final (not really) speech to impart one final (not really) idea or value to students was so incredibly deep and thought-provoking to me, and I think it’s one of the most important questions that anyone, especially a teacher or a writer, can ask themselves. Here, then, I decided that I want to write one final (not really) blog post, explaining what the last (not really) thing I would say on here would be if I only had time to say one thing.
Being someone who is constantly absorbing new stories through video games, movies, and books, as well as often trying to come up with new stories, I’m finding that between symbols, allusions, and archetypes that there really are only a handful of plots. Everything is somehow a retelling of something else, from a different story or group of stories, or even from within itself (as is often the case with symbols and foreshadowing). In Harry Potter, for example, much of what happens seems similar to other fantasy stories, or earlier in the series, such as Ron and Harry’s argument and estrangement in Goblet of Fire being very similar to the unrelated and far larger rift that appears in Deathly Hallows. I often try to reflect this idea in my own story writing -- having smaller stories and events reflect what will later occur in the grander plot, or sometimes be a tribute to stories or TV shows I enjoy.
In a lot of ways, I see this constant paralleling happening in real life as well, certain events seem to repeat themselves in unrelated ways, the same story occurring in different places and in different forms. It seems like life history and science itself are filled with the simple cycles of “corruption” and “redemption.” Great kings fall before personal shortcomings, or else overcome them. Chemical reactions change or ruin physical things, but these changes often do a lot of good, and even if not, the changes are sometimes reversible under certain circumstances. And in my personal life I constantly see things being broken before me, only for the pieces to fall into place, forming something new and beautiful.
This great repeating corruption/redemption story appears most importantly in the Bible, with all 66 books being several retellings of the same story -- mankind is corrupted and falls short, unable to do anything to come back to who they were, only for Christ to come and sacrifice himself to cleanse us. Make us as we were before, and often even more. If anyone has not heard the sermon “The Fourth Man; Christ throughout Scripture, (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZcjW3DSbMeI)” I would recommend it strongly, as it shows just how everything in the Bible, just like everything in life, points to the simple story or corruption and redemption that is the center of humanity itself.
I truly believe that this story comes from the story of humanity’s corruption and redemption through Jesus, and it is in that story that I see the thing that perhaps separates the corruption from the redemption, and the evil from the good -- selflessness. It was Jesus’ selfless love that saved us. This selflessness is why I try my best (though I don’t claim to always succeed) to be humble and serving to others. Not because of any sort of rule, but because I want to parallel, as best as I can, the love and selflessness that saved me and defines who I am now.
This is also why I dislike movies like the Twilight Saga and find it hard to relate to so many modern antiheroes -- most of the characters preform “good” or “loving” actions for their own sake, rather than for the sake of others. The reason I am often cynical of dating and relationships is that so many are seen to be simply about how the other makes THEM feel, rather than honestly about any true or selfless love for the other. This selfless love is what I want to base my life on, and should I die before I post again, I want my last (not really) post to be about this selflessness.
So how about you? What motivates you? If the comment you were about to leave would be the last (not really) thing you said before you died, what would you say?
-Caleb
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Old Writing - Swearing in Movies
Today's post is going to be closer to what I normally do. Over two years ago, I posted a Facebook note about my opinion on swearing in movies. I've reposted this discussion a few times since, but here it is again, revised slightly.
Let me start by stating my veiws on swearing in general: I do believe it's wrong (James 3:3-12). When we curse, we want to hurt and shock people, we want to draw attention to ourselves, and our tounges can do that. That is why I disagree with people who call swear words "just words." They DO offend people. People DO use them to hurt and insult others. They DO create enough reaction that companies usually censor them. This is why I, personally, try to not swear (with occasional failures), but why I try not to give people a hard time with swearing in and of itself.
I think that the sin isn't as much in the formation of the words as much as the desire to offend someone, or the anger involved.
When an actor swears in a movie, then he doesn't have the attitudes that generally provoke it, hes only simulating them for his character. So, objectively, this isn't any more wrong than when any other actor depicts any other sin.
However, swearing is one of the most contagious and hard to stop sins that I can think of. I know MANY Christians who have stuggled with this at some point in thier life, and part of that may be because we see it so often in movies, and it works its way into our thoughts. When we get angry, we lose some self-controll and swear. If we show it in movies, then it may become harder to avoid, as we hear it more often.
So the question seems to be whether there's a need for the swear word in the plot or events of the movie. Though some might be insignificant, I do believe there are reasons for swearing that MIGHT be valid.
1. Realism -- Some movies want to show the world as it is, or at least how the filmmakers see it, and the fact is that people swear. To make a movie with people that don't swear wouldn't be as realistic or believable. Now if it's a kid show, then they needn't have belivability, and therefore no swearing.
2. Characterization -- I'm not gonna lie, my opinion of people is usually affected by their language, and I doubt that I'm the only one (Yet another reason I don't swear). Same applies in movies. In a show such as Smallville, there's an innocence seen when one character rarely, if ever, uses a dirty word in a show in which other characters do. And some characters show thier loss of innocence (by alien influences or general corruption) when they use swear words. The same works in reverse, I see chacters as flawed if they swear, such as Will Smith's characters or Jack Baur.
3. Humor -- Not a huge thing, but the fact is that many lines or jokes are funnier if they use swear words, if nothing else than for shock value. Infamous Will Smith quote: "ACHOO! Oh sorry, I'm allergic to bulls***." from I, Robot. Or the running gags in Hancock with the "Your heads going up his a**." and "Call me an a**-hole one more time." Admitedly, there might be cleaner words for the joke, but the shock value and characterization added to the humor give it some points.
4. People should know them -- This one even I don't buy. Though you could argue that embarassing or akward situations can arise if you don't understand an inappropriate word, it's the job of THAT individual to find out about such things, not the movie to tell them.
So the question becomes what's more important, the above advantages, or the negative side effects? I, personally, have mixed feelings about this. I am interested in writing movies and tv shows as a career, but as of now don't intend to impliment swear words in any stories I write. Though I do admit that the realism does appeal to me, I don't think it's worth "tainting" my stories and making them inappropriate for younger kids, especially since my main areas of interest are SF and fantasy, which have little to no realism to beging with.
Ending queston: What about the thriller writers who DO write about Earth and more terrestial threats that are intended for older audiences? Is it preferable, okay, or even excusable for them to implement cursing and swearing into thier stories so that they can better depict thier world?
What does anyone think? Comments on swearing in movies? Swearing in general?
-Caleb
Let me start by stating my veiws on swearing in general: I do believe it's wrong (James 3:3-12). When we curse, we want to hurt and shock people, we want to draw attention to ourselves, and our tounges can do that. That is why I disagree with people who call swear words "just words." They DO offend people. People DO use them to hurt and insult others. They DO create enough reaction that companies usually censor them. This is why I, personally, try to not swear (with occasional failures), but why I try not to give people a hard time with swearing in and of itself.
I think that the sin isn't as much in the formation of the words as much as the desire to offend someone, or the anger involved.
When an actor swears in a movie, then he doesn't have the attitudes that generally provoke it, hes only simulating them for his character. So, objectively, this isn't any more wrong than when any other actor depicts any other sin.
However, swearing is one of the most contagious and hard to stop sins that I can think of. I know MANY Christians who have stuggled with this at some point in thier life, and part of that may be because we see it so often in movies, and it works its way into our thoughts. When we get angry, we lose some self-controll and swear. If we show it in movies, then it may become harder to avoid, as we hear it more often.
So the question seems to be whether there's a need for the swear word in the plot or events of the movie. Though some might be insignificant, I do believe there are reasons for swearing that MIGHT be valid.
1. Realism -- Some movies want to show the world as it is, or at least how the filmmakers see it, and the fact is that people swear. To make a movie with people that don't swear wouldn't be as realistic or believable. Now if it's a kid show, then they needn't have belivability, and therefore no swearing.
2. Characterization -- I'm not gonna lie, my opinion of people is usually affected by their language, and I doubt that I'm the only one (Yet another reason I don't swear). Same applies in movies. In a show such as Smallville, there's an innocence seen when one character rarely, if ever, uses a dirty word in a show in which other characters do. And some characters show thier loss of innocence (by alien influences or general corruption) when they use swear words. The same works in reverse, I see chacters as flawed if they swear, such as Will Smith's characters or Jack Baur.
3. Humor -- Not a huge thing, but the fact is that many lines or jokes are funnier if they use swear words, if nothing else than for shock value. Infamous Will Smith quote: "ACHOO! Oh sorry, I'm allergic to bulls***." from I, Robot. Or the running gags in Hancock with the "Your heads going up his a**." and "Call me an a**-hole one more time." Admitedly, there might be cleaner words for the joke, but the shock value and characterization added to the humor give it some points.
4. People should know them -- This one even I don't buy. Though you could argue that embarassing or akward situations can arise if you don't understand an inappropriate word, it's the job of THAT individual to find out about such things, not the movie to tell them.
So the question becomes what's more important, the above advantages, or the negative side effects? I, personally, have mixed feelings about this. I am interested in writing movies and tv shows as a career, but as of now don't intend to impliment swear words in any stories I write. Though I do admit that the realism does appeal to me, I don't think it's worth "tainting" my stories and making them inappropriate for younger kids, especially since my main areas of interest are SF and fantasy, which have little to no realism to beging with.
Ending queston: What about the thriller writers who DO write about Earth and more terrestial threats that are intended for older audiences? Is it preferable, okay, or even excusable for them to implement cursing and swearing into thier stories so that they can better depict thier world?
What does anyone think? Comments on swearing in movies? Swearing in general?
-Caleb
Monday, January 3, 2011
Old Writing - Am I an Essay or Am I a Poem?
This month, I'm hoping to post a few times with thing's I've written in the past. Today I'm going to post something I'm sure a lot of you I've known for a while have seen. I wrote it a year and a half ago and am still quite proud of it.
As you read me, I must wonder – Am I an essay, or am I a poem? Looking upon myself, it seems I am simply an essay. My simple words, basic components of a larger work, form sentences in a simple prose and organize themselves as paragraphs do, with each larger part connecting the rest and serving the whole. I have not stanza nor meter nor rhyme, and as I reason with myself, as a scholar with his companions, I present reasoning to reach a conclusion, regardless of whether I find it.
However, upon a second look, I wonder if I am a poem. Though prose, my words have been carefully chosen, designed beautifully and artistically to fulfill my purpose. I convey and contain as much emotion as information and intelligence. My pattern, my style, my tone – they are neither academic nor professional, and they often contradict themselves. I may lack the meter and rhythm of the great poets of the past, but did even they always use rhyme and rhythm? Perhaps I am no more flawed than they. Perhaps my paragraphs are stanzas; perhaps my sentences lines.
Whatever I am, and whatever my purpose, it seems I am only here for the sake of my author. I do not understand why parts of myself exist, and I often feel weaker because I lack the beauty of other works, but I trust my author. I trust that he has a plan for me, and that I can do credit to his purposes. I was made to do what he intended, though I may not always know what it is. Perhaps I am not an essay, and perhaps I am not a poem. Created to fulfill a purpose I do not completely understand, and to bring credit and praise to my creator, perhaps I am merely a human.
Let me know what you think.
-Caleb
As you read me, I must wonder – Am I an essay, or am I a poem? Looking upon myself, it seems I am simply an essay. My simple words, basic components of a larger work, form sentences in a simple prose and organize themselves as paragraphs do, with each larger part connecting the rest and serving the whole. I have not stanza nor meter nor rhyme, and as I reason with myself, as a scholar with his companions, I present reasoning to reach a conclusion, regardless of whether I find it.
However, upon a second look, I wonder if I am a poem. Though prose, my words have been carefully chosen, designed beautifully and artistically to fulfill my purpose. I convey and contain as much emotion as information and intelligence. My pattern, my style, my tone – they are neither academic nor professional, and they often contradict themselves. I may lack the meter and rhythm of the great poets of the past, but did even they always use rhyme and rhythm? Perhaps I am no more flawed than they. Perhaps my paragraphs are stanzas; perhaps my sentences lines.
Whatever I am, and whatever my purpose, it seems I am only here for the sake of my author. I do not understand why parts of myself exist, and I often feel weaker because I lack the beauty of other works, but I trust my author. I trust that he has a plan for me, and that I can do credit to his purposes. I was made to do what he intended, though I may not always know what it is. Perhaps I am not an essay, and perhaps I am not a poem. Created to fulfill a purpose I do not completely understand, and to bring credit and praise to my creator, perhaps I am merely a human.
Let me know what you think.
-Caleb
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