Life as an Extreme Sport

Atlantis – The Siege, Part Three

Stargate

Meh.

That basically sums up my feeling on Atlantis. It was nice to see continuity with SG-1, and there were a few good lines, but overall it didn’t leave me with warm or fuzzies. Then again, it has the very difficult task of being an entertaining season opener, plus episode arc finale, plus platform to getting rid of one of the main characters from the first season. Tall order, and it’s not surprising that they didn’t quite succeed.

The win of the episode: Dr. Beckett as a full time cast member.

SG-1 – Avalon

Stargate

I was prepared, with all my might, to hate the new SG-1. I disliked O’Neill’s promotion, the disbanding of the team, and etc. You know, the typical complaints.

So the season starts from the point of view of Mitchell, the new guy assigned to lead SG-1, and to a lesser degree, the new general, Landry. But they’re actually taking us through the process of Mitchell not knowing the team he wanted to work with was gone, and thus mirroring our own loss. And damnit, it’s effective. And I like it, and am willing to give it a try – if they’re going to be this aware of fan reaction, then they deserve the chance.

consuming knowledge

Summer 05, Summer Institute

I was in lecture from noon to 1:30, group meetings on porject proposals from 1:30 thru a little after three, tea until fourish, then happy hour at Flowers until about 20 minutes ago. It’s a very good thing I adore the majority of the people I’m working with. In particular, I would love to open Brian Reed’s skull and consume his brain, and the knowledge contained within.

Intimacy

...and everything else, life and living

Intimacy is not sex, is it not love, it is not even touching. Intimacy is connection. It can be a foot resting on the chair of a partner, of washing and drying dishes in tandem, a look on the subway or the brush of a sleeve against another in passing. Intimacy is created not through the ordinary of daily exchanges but through the extraordinary, that which is out of place. It is the hair of a stranger playing across your face, fingers touching from check to pen to cashier, two people sitting on the floor and surrounded by those in chairs. It is the quick look that acknowledges the other person out of bounds with you, both of you vibrating with the secret knowledge of your transgressions, shared, connected, intimate.

Academic

Summer 05, Summer Institute

“Grissom, do you ever worry about professional suicide?”
“Not while I’m committing it.”

Brian Reed and I had a lovely talk this afternoon, first at Aqua Verde and then on the bus ride home. Our conversation ranged from corpse flowers to constellations and our axis of perceptions, and of course my project. He’s intrigued, which is nice, and willing to work with me, which is excellent. What I most wanted to document, though, was talking about how I feel like such a fraud when I teach. I mean, who’m I to know enough to teach about any subject. Brian told me that this is the mark of a true academic – to be aware of those borders of knowledge, and to know when you’d come upon them. That it is those borders of knowing where our knowledge ends that allows us to teach to begin with. Then he reiterated thinking that I’m an academic – a true one, not one of those fakes wandering around. (I say this in jest. Mostly.)

It was also very nice to be reassured that I don’t talk too much in class; there are some that do, but I am not one of them.

Being at the level of having a relationship with a professor, one of interested equals talking instead of a power hierarchy of command, is very… I don’t want to say refreshing, because that implies I’ve not had that sort of relationship with Phillip. Rather, with Brian (and Ellen and Arianna, the other SI professors), it’s reaffirming. It’s not just Phillip, it is that I’ve reached a level in academia where I can have this cooperative exchange. It’s nice, validating, reassuring. This is the right place for me.