The Handmaid's Tale

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
Ballantine Books, 1985
Massmarket paperback, 396 pages

ISBN 0449212602

Very Highly Recommended - reread

Synopsis

In the world of the near future, who will control women's bodies?
Offred is a Handmaid in the Republic of Gilead. She may leave the home of the Commander and his wife once a day to walk to food markets whose signs are now pictures instead of words because women are no longer allowed to read. She must lie on her back once a month and pray that the Commander makes her pregnant, because in an age of declining births, Offred and the other Handmaids are only valued if their ovaries are viable.
Offred can remember the days before, when she lived and made love with her husband Luke; when she played with and protected her daughter; when she had a job, money of her own, and access to knowledge. But all of that is gone now....
Funny, unexpected, horrifying, and altogether convincing, The Handmaid's Tale is at once scathing satire, dire warning, and tour de force.

My Thoughts:

As I was unpacking books after our move I couldn't help but set aside A Handmaid's Tale to read again, especially considering how much I enjoyed re-reading Cat's Eye. The Handmaid's Tale is a dystopian novel that depicts a future society where religious fundamentalism has been taken to an absurd extreme. Woman are owned. The Handmaid's Tale is the sometimes rambling thoughts of a handmaid, Offred, describing her daily life as well as the memories she has of her life before, when she was a working wife and mother. It's interesting to note that The Handmaid's Tale is listed as one of the 100 "most frequently challenged books" from 1990 to 1999 on the American Library Association's website. While Atwood may have set The Handmaid's Tale in America, the truly chilling notion is not fighting over what religion or group inspired this cautionary tale but that it could happen, and surely has happened already, in some form or another in other countries, whether they be fundamentalist or fanatics.

No one can fault Atwood for her writing, because let's all face it, she is a phenomenal writer, so I suspect any criticism over The Handmaid's Tale is concerning the subject matter or perhaps the rather disjointed way Offred is telling us about her life. The way the story slowly unfolds, going back and forth through time, never bothered me and I think it fits the novel perfectly. This is a great dystopian novel. Let us all hope that we aren't working hard at living by ignoring what is going on around us. Very Highly Recommended, reread

Quotes:

We slept in what had once been the gymnasium. The floor was of varnished wood, with stripes and circles painted on it, for the games that were formerly played there; the hoops for the basketball nets were still in place, though the nets were gone. A balcony ran around the room, for the spectators, and I thought I could smell, faintly like an afterimage, the pungent scent of sweat, shot through with the sweet taint of chewing gum and perfume from the watching girls, felt-skirted as I knew from pictures, later in miniskirts, then pants, then in one earring, spiky green-streaked hair. Dances would have been held there; the music lingered, a palimpsest of unheard sound, style upon style, an undercurrent of drums, a forlorn wail, garlands made of tissue-paper flowers, cardboard devils, a revolving ball of mirrors, powdering the dancers with a snow of light. opening

We yearned for the future. How did we learn it, that talent for insatiability? It was in the air; and it was still in the air, an afterthought, as we tried to sleep, in the army cots that had been set up in rows, with spaces between so we could not talk. We had flannelette sheets, like children's, and army-issue blankets, old ones that still said U.S. We folded our clothes neatly and laid them on the stools at the ends of the beds. The lights were turned down but not out. Aunt Sara and Aunt Elizabeth patrolled; they had electric cattle prods slung on thongs from their leather belts. pg. 4

I know why there is no glass, in front of the watercolor picture of blue irises, and why the window opens only partly and why the glass in it is shatterproof. It isn't running away they're afraid of. We wouldn't get far. It's those other escapes, the ones you can open in yourself, given a cutting edge. pg. 10

The Marthas know things, they talk among themselves, passing the unofficial news from house to house. Like me, they listen at doors, no doubt, and see things even with their eyes averted. I've heard them at it sometimes, caught whiffs of their private conversations. pg. 14

But I envy the Commander's Wife her knitting. It's good to have small goals that can be easily attained. pg. 17

They can hit us, there's Scriptural precedent. But not with any implement. Only with their hands. pg. 21

We aren't allowed to go there except in twos. This is supposed to be for out protection, though the notion is absurd: we are well protected already. The truth is that she is my spy, as I am hers. If either of us slips through the net because of something that happens on one of our daily walks, the other will be accountable. pg. 25-26

There is more than one kind of freedom, said Aunt Lydia. Freedom to and freedom from. In the days of anarchy, it was freedom to. Now you are being given freedom from. pg. 33

They haven't fiddled with the gravestones, or the church either. It's only the more recent history that offends them. pg. 41

We lived, as usual, by ignoring. Ignoring isn't the same as ignorance, you have to work at it. pg. 74

Fierce

Fierce: A Memoir by Barbara Robinette Moss
Simon & Schuster October 2004
Hardcover, 256 pages
ISBN-13: 9780743229456
nonfiction, memoir

highly recommended

From the Publisher:

[A] compelling memoir about a single mother determined to break the patterns that she has been taught.
Barbara Robinette Moss grew up in the red clay hills of Alabama, the fourth of eight children, in a childhood defined by close sibling alliances, staggering poverty, and uncommon abuse at the hands of her wild-eyed, charismatic, alcoholic father. In Fierce, Moss looks at what happens when a child of such a family grows up [...and] paints a vivid, moving portrait of her persistent quest to reinvent her life and rebel against the rural indigence, addiction, and broken dreams she inherited from her parents.
With warmth, insight, and candor, Moss tells the poignant story of finally leaving everything she knew in Alabama to fulfill her ambition to become an artist.... As with many other children of alcoholics, the legacy of her father's alcoholism catches up with Moss, and an abusive relationship — an inheritance and addiction of its own sort — threatens to destroy all that she has accomplished. Ultimately, Fierce is a warm, honest, and triumphant story, from a writer celebrated for her Southern lyricism, about a woman determined to make it on her own — to shrug off the handicaps of her childhood and raise her son responsibly and well.

My Thoughts:

I haven't read Moss' previous memoir, Change Me Into Zeus's Daughter, which apparently provides more back story about her childhood and is more highly acclaimed than this follow-up work. Fierce does stand alone, however, and you needn't read the first to appreciate the second. Even though her life circumstances could lead many people to self pity, Moss never goes there and keeps the tone matter-of-fact. Several events are memorable. (I appreciated the garbage can story. For many readers, the neighbors involved will resemble a strict home owner's association and people like that are found all over.) The writing is not complex. There were times when the sharing of her story felt a bit disjointed, as if she hadn't quite reached a truly deep understanding of some of the events in her life or perhaps therapy and healing has softened some of the hard details in the re-telling. Many of the stories of her childhood seemed to be in sharper focus than the more recent events. This could be simply the difference of looking through the eyes of a child versus an adult. It could even be that after writing the first book which dealt with her childhood, this second part of her memoir lost some of the immediacy and drive to share her life history. I did struggle a bit with really understanding Moss' choices (her attraction to abusive men) but that's due to my background. Adult children of alcoholics will perhaps appreciate Moss more and have a greater understanding of her poor choices. It was nice to know that her life has reached a place of healing from her past and she is in a healthy relationship.

Highly Recommended, but it might be better to read her first book before this one

Quotes:

I thought about the night before. Dad had come home from the bar at 3 A.M. and gotten everybody out of bed to clean up the house and cut the grass. The police came and made my brother Stewart shut off the lawn mower. After they left, Dad yelled at Mother for not making Stewart cut the grass earlier that day. pg. 5

We got married at the chapel out at Fort McClellan. Dad was supposed to give the bride away, but the military police at the front gate arrested him for public intoxication. pg.14

He escorted me up the stairs to our second floor apartment, unlocked the dead bolt on the door, let me in, and locked it again. Through the door, he said, "I'll be back tonight. Late. Don't wait up." pg. 16

Instead he snatched the clothes out of my hand and tossed them to the ground, then grabbed my upper arms and shook me as hard as he could, snapping my head back and forth. "What did you think you were doing?" he shouted. "I've told you a thousand times! Never leave without my permission, and nobody comes in the house when I'm not home! Who else has been there?" pg. 23

Her eyes drifted to my swollen belly, to the bruises on my arms, and then back to my red-streaked face. "Why don't you go home to your mama?" pg. 25

Dad worked hard all week and celebrated every Friday night at the American Legion. Weekends felt like war zones. pg 35

I should have left a dozen times over, but I couldn't afford to. As the years passed, the transgressions grew. Like the TV evangelists, Clayton had such a special relationship with God that he was exempt from the strict code of moral behavior he imposed on the rest of us. By the time my second marriage ended, I felt so diminished that the spark in my own soul was in mortal danger. pg. 44

It was true that Stewart drank like Dad, much worse really, but I thought that maybe it was the heartache he'd inherited more than alcoholism. I recognized the heartache because I inherited it too; I didn't know how to soothe mine either. pg. 82

Admission

It is with a wee bit of embarrassment and consternation that I am going to admit I recently discovered the following:
I love Crocs.

They aren't even real Crocs but some inexpensive knock-off. I know, I know... I have come late to this party - way too late. All the other guests have gone home and there's only the confetti left on the floor. You can't even easily find the knock-offs anymore. I avoided Crocs like the plague when they were the rage and found everywhere, easily available in a rainbow of colors and assorted sizes in every store. See, I thought they were ugly and stupid looking so I never even considered trying on a pair. I most certainly never thought I'd wear a pair. I have only very recently realized the error of my ways and embraced fake-Crocs.

It went down like this...

We were packing to move and Just Me had an almost new dark blue pair from several years ago. She was going to just toss them out or into the give-away bag. Instead, I tried them on and... oh....oh my.... the love was almost instantaneous. They are roomy and cushy-soft. I've been wearing them whenever possible for a month now. You can hose them down, for goodness sakes. If you go through a puddle, they won't become sopping wet. They can be easily slipped on and off. Just Me laughed at me when she realized how often I was wearing them. They are still ugly and stupid looking, but I don't care. They sort of remind me of Earth Shoes. The last time I loved shoes like this was back in the seventies when I had a real thing for Dr. Scholl's exercise sandals, the original wooden ones, but even those were never immediately comfortable.

It's probably for the best that the craze for Crocs has come and gone. I know I won't be replacing these when they wear out - unless I can find some very inexpensive source for fake-Crocs. I certainly won't pay much for a pair of "foam" shoes, even if they have all sorts of great attributes. But, if I'm honest, I have to admit that they are so very, very comfortable.

Backseat Saints

Backseat Saints by Joshilyn Jackson
Grand Central Publishing, June 8, 2010
Advanced Reading Copy, 324 pages
ISBN-13: 9780446582346

http://joshilynjackson.com/backseat.html

Very Highly Recommended

Synopsis

Rose Mae Lolley is a fierce and dirty girl, long-suppressed under flowery skirts and bow-trimmed ballet flats. As "Mrs. Ro Grandee" she's trapped in a marriage that's thick with love and sick with abuse. Her true self has been bound in the chains of marital bliss in rural Texas, letting "Ro" make eggs, iron shirts, and take her punches. She seems doomed to spend the rest of her life battered outside by her husband and inside by her former self, until fate throws her in the path of an airport gypsy---one who shares her past and knows her future. The tarot cards foretell that Rose's beautiful, abusive husband is going to kill her. Unless she kills him first.

Hot-blooded Rose Mae escapes from under Ro's perky compliance and emerges with a gun and a plan to beat the hand she's been dealt. Following messages that her long-missing mother has left hidden for her in graffiti and behind paintings, Rose and her dog Gretel set out from Amarillo, TX back to her hometown of Fruiton, AL, and then on to California, unearthing a host of family secrets as she goes. Running for her life, she realizes that she must face her past in order to overcome her fate---death by marriage---and become a girl who is strong enough to save herself from the one who loves her best.

My Thoughts:

As a long time fan and avid reader of Joshilyn Jackson's blog, I knew before even opening the cover of Backseat Saints that I was in for a good story. I knew this because Jackson is a great story teller. She has a quirky way with words, a gift of describing events that are sometimes horrifying, sometimes titillating, but always honest and truthful. Often she does this with an amazing twist of phrase. How Jackson manages to add hilarity in many of her descriptions while telling a serious story is a gift and gives her a truly unique voice. The subject matter is dark, a young woman who suffered abuse as a child subsequently marries a man who abuses her. She knows, even before the airport gypsy told her, that her husband, Thom, is going to end up killing her if she doesn't kill him first. Between the abuse and sex, as Jackson herself would note to younger members of her family, there's a lot of adult material so it's not for their eyes.

The basic story, an abused child becomes an abused woman and subsequently tries to leave her abuser, has been told before. Where Jackson shines is in the unique way she tells the story, in her descriptions, the insights she has her characters voice. I absolutely did not guess what would happen at the end. Without giving away any spoilers, I had a few minor problems with the novel: the gypsy was a stretch for me and I had a hard time understanding Rose's acceptance of the beatings, knowing the fight we see in her personality.
All in all, though, Backseat Saints is Very Highly Recommended.

Many thanks to Hachette Books and Henry Choi for providing me with this ARC.

Quotes:

Note: This was an ARC (advanced reading copy) so I'm not supposed to quote from it. Normally there is usually a first chapter of a book online that I can use for quotes under these circumstances (which doesn't hamper me because I try to limit quotes to the first 50 pages or so of a book), but, alas, not in this case. Since direct quotes are an important part of my reviews (they give you a good feel for the author's style), I'm going to include a few forewarning you that the quotes are from an ARC. And oh, please tell me that the last one made it into the book...

It was an airport gypsy who told me that I had to kill my husband. She may have been the first to say the words out loud, but she was only giving voice to a thing I'd been trying not to know for a long, long time. opening

I'd been pinned, limbs flailing helpless sideways, while he ran four fast punches down one side of my back. then he'd let me go and I'd slid down the wall into a heap and he'd say, "Lord, Ro, why do you push me like that?" pg 4

Thirty seconds after the front door shut, I was butt-up under the kitchen sink, digging my Pawpy's old .45 revolver out from the stack of rags behind my cleaning products. pg. 6

Ten minutes after she came into a place, Rose learned, was the best time to steal things.

Not to keep. It was more about moving things, getting objects to the place they most belonged. Rose had an eye, even then, for what went where. pg. 32

....a drunken barn cat could fart out better advice than I would expect to hear coming out of the other end of that man. pg. 141

Guest House

Guest House by Barbara K. Richardson
Bay Tree Publishing, March 2010
Trade Paperback, 218 pages
ISBN-13: 9780981957715
http://www.barbarakrichardson.com/index.html

highly recommended

Synopsis:

Driving home from work on a summer afternoon, Melba Burns witnesses a nightmare collision. The wreck ends her pursuit of success at any cost—Melba parks her car, quits her job and stops driving. She retreats into her beloved old farmhouse, yearning for a simpler peace.
But peace and Melba’s new roommate, JoLee Garry, have never met. A shallow, self-absorbed stunner, JoLee magnetizes messes and trouble. She brings boyfriends, booze and a tag-along son with her—a series of unexpected guests who transform Melba’s solo life into something different, daring and richer.

My Thoughts:

Guest House is a beautifully written debut novel by Barbara K. Richardson. The title is taken from Rumi: “This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival…” I'll admit that I approached Guest House with a wee bit of trepidation. I accepted a review copy because I thought I would enjoy it from the description, but I was nervous it would be too chick-lit for me. Those worries were soon negated. You know what? Guest House is a really good book. I'm surprised I haven't read more reviews raving about it. This was the perfect choice to read after the last novel.

This is the story of a woman redefining her life, a dysfunctional family disintegrating, and what happens when their lives converge. Richardson's characters are realistic, flawed, and struggling in some way. I swear I know a few of these characters. Each character clearly has an individual voice and point of view. I sympathisized with Melba and wanted her to get her confidence back. My heart broke for Matt. I wanted to slap JoLee. Gene needed a good talking too. In the end I appreciated the message about love. The best recommendation could be that I stayed up late to finish reading it since I knew I could not sleep until I knew the outcome. Richardson is an author to watch. I expect big things from her in the future.
Highly Recommended

My review copy was courtesy of Anne Staszalek from The Book Report Network. I must thank her for introducing me to an exciting new author to follow.

Quotes:
Melba Burns did not mean to buy the boxy old farmhouse on one-quarter acre in the worst neighborhood in Portland. She’d simply driven down Simpson Street ogling its tall trees and seen the For Sale by Owner sign and stopped. Wading through shin-high grass, Melba laughed. The dirty windows. The gabled roof. She felt the tilting rush the ocean gives when tides are going out, taking your footing with them, and life seems stupendously fine. Melba turned, attempting professional distance. opening

Melba wrote her offer inside the Volvo, sweaty as a kid bearing her testimony in church. She knew her business partners would be appalled. Her friend Ellie would laugh out loud. The move would uproot her urban life, gut her grueling work schedule. Somehow that was the beauty of it.

So Melba Burns—a highly realized woman of independent means--stood on the broad front porch with the spider nests and squashed newspapers looking at the neighbor’s tarped RV, feeling both dizzy and drunk. An idiot might have resisted. Melba knew houses. This house chose her. This house and these neglected grounds. pg. 2-3

Matthew Anderson Garry had spent ten years observing the habits of parentus nondomesticus, and it seemed he would never be manly enough to make his dad proud. pg. 5

HeShe said nothing as usual. Invisible sidekicks were great that way. Matt knew what a fall his dad had taken, driving the Wonder van around Portland for a living. Two years of full time humiliation. Humiliation was one of the creepiest requirements of love. pg. 6

He did it for love. But having her husband home full time made JoLee even crazier than having him gone. pg. 9

Bus routes became familiar in the two weeks since Melba had sidelined her car, quit her job, comforted her partners at their loss, said good-bye to paychecks, to her social life, night life, travel. One event could knock you off your life path, if you let it. That one event, for Melba, was the cyclist's death. pg. 13

Melba took that boy's death like a Teleflorist delivery from God. She would make his death count. pg. 36

She had heard, once, that the secret to any relationship was finding the right distance. Melba felt great empathy for couples, even awe. She'd seen firsthand that partnering was nearly impossible.

The heart is a garden, Melba believed. She happily weeded and pruned hers alone. pg. 112

The War after Armageddon

The War after Armageddon by Ralph Peters
Tom Doherty Associates, September 2009
Hardcover, 384 pages
ISBN-13: 9780765323552
highly recommended

Publishers Weekly:

Military strategist Peters applies the predictions of his nonfiction Wars of Blood and Faith to this outstanding cautionary tale of a near-future war set in the Middle East. Lt. Gen. Gary “Flintlock” Harris commands troops hitting the beaches of what was once Israel before it was nuked into total destruction. Muslim extremists have exploded dirty bombs in Las Vegas, Los Angeles and most of the major European cities in an attempt to bring about “the Great Jihad.” America reacts by voting in a radical Christian government and reorganizing the National Guard as the Military Order of the Brothers in Christ (MOBIC). The fighting most resembles that of WWII as electronic jamming equipment cancels out the high-tech weaponry of each side, reducing the level of combat to suicide attacks and bayonet charges. Compelling characters, thrilling small-unit battle scenes and the terrifying possibility that it could all come true make this a must read. Copyright © Reed Business Information

My Thoughts:

This powerful cautionary tale is chilling simply because there are so many elements of truth in the background that lead to the "final" battle it depicts. Peters is masterful at portraying the complexities of battle scenes where the military finds itself essentially limited to hand to hand combat. Personally, I originally was disappointed that this isn't really as much of a science fiction selection as I hoped and had a legitimate concern that the actually plot was not as well developed and broad in scope as it could have been. However, once I started reading I could see that Peters deliberately chose to deliver his message through his novel exactly as it is written. I think fans of military fiction are especially going to appreciate the accuracy in Peters' story as it stands. Peters certainly has the background and expertise to accurately and realistically portray this scenario with a great deal of insight. In the end this novel delivers a very powerful message that overrides any little quibbles I might have over the plot.

highly recommended, especially for fans of military fiction

Quotes:

I could be jailed for writing this. But I am old and must set down the truth. opening.

Lieutenant General Gary "Flintlock" Harris was no traitor. That is a lie. There. I have written it. In black ink. And I will say more: He was not only a magnificent soldier, but a better Christian than those who brought him down. pg. 15

Science had undone itself. Harris tried to visualize the wild electronic war playing out in the darkness, with each side canceling the other’s capabilities with hyperjammers, signal leeches, and computer plagues. Only a handful of his country’s satellites remained aloft, and the devastating effects of electromagnetic- pulse simulators destroyed every electronic system with the least gap in its shielding. pg. 18

The simultaneous detonation of dirty bombs in Berlin, Hamburg, and Frankfurt, as well as in Paris, Brussels, Amsterdam, Barcelona, Milan, Rome, London, and Manchester, had been the signal for the Great Jihad. Muslim radicals told their kind that Europe had lost its will, that it needed only a push to topple and leave a new caliphate standing.

It had been all madness. The Islamists hadn’t had the numbers. The majority of their fellow Muslims in Europe wanted no part of the violence. But enough rose up to seal the fate of the rest.pg. 20

Within a month, the counterattacks on Europe’s Muslims spread so widely and grew so brutal that the United States led the world in demanding that Europe’s governments end it. But the governments answered to the people, and the people wanted blood. Mobs ruled, even in parliaments. It was as if the rebellion had broken a dam behind which decades of fury had been rising. pg. 21

They opened the door. And the stench hit everyone like a fist. Even the Germans winced.

The corpses rose almost to the middle of the car’s interior. Men.Women. Children. Stiff. Wide- eyed. Mouths agape. pg. 23

So much had happened in the five years since he looked into that boxcar that the world in which he now led troops to war seemed unrecognizable. Dreamers had changed the world, but their dreams were grim. The great American effort to evacuate Europe’s Muslims had turned into a debacle. None of the states from which their ancestors had come would accept the refugees. Islamist firebrands declared that all that had transpired in Europe had been an American plot to oppress Muslims. Overcrowded ships lay at anchor in the Mediterranean or in the smack- down heat of the Persian Gulf. Arab governments took their cue to blame Washington for the suffering, unwilling to welcome Muslims who had lived in Europe amid liberal ideas. American counterarguments were mocked. The global media accused the United States of making pawns of the refugees. When a riot aboard a converted cruise ship turned deadly, the Europe an pogroms were forgotten as if they had been an embarrassing soccer match. All agreed that Washington was the true enemy of Islam. pg. 26

At that fateful moment, Iran launched a barrage of nuclear missiles at Israel, killing two million people. On the same day, nuclear devices exploded in downtown Los Angeles and on the Vegas Strip. pg. 27

With bewildering speed, the Military Order of the Brothers in Christ and their supporters had gotten their crusade against Islam, an invasion to retake the Biblical heartlands from the infidel. And as the favored MOBIC forces battled toward Jerusalem, Lieutenant General Flintlock Harris had the mission of taking Damascus with what remained of the Army and Marines. pg. 28

Aliens vs. Avatar and Zombies

We watched two movies for Movie Dude weekend.

Aliens (1986)

Starring: Sigourney Weaver, Michael Biehn, Carrie Henn, Lance Henriksen, Paul Reiser
Director: James Cameron

We actually watched Alien a couple weeks ago and wanted to continue the series. While we all enjoyed Aliens, the second film in the series (OK, I hide my face and didn't watch some parts, but I'm a known whimp), what really became quite apparent to all of us after recently also watching Avatar was the similarities between Aliens and Avatar. James Cameron directed them both but you'd expect some new ideas, right? (Or is that just us?) Anyway, we sat down and all started listing the very obvious tie ins between the two movies.

Obviously, in Avatar, Cameron is beating us over the head with his message. He's more subtle in Aliens. He doesn't explore the idea that the aliens could be sentient beings in Aliens, but makes it quite clear that the Na'vi are sentient (and preferable) in Avatar. The two movies appear almost, but not quite, polar opposites in their message. The aliens destroying the human settlement is bad in Aliens, good in Avatar. Destroying the alien hive is good in Aliens, bad in Avatar. Very simply humans have opposite roles; they are, very basically, good in Aliens and bad in Avatar.

The design of all human structures and technology is analogous. The ship design and interior seemed interchangeable in both movies. The military scenes were parallel, practically indistinguishable in spots, as were the weapons and military shuttles. The mecha suit/robotic walker was a startling, almost identical connection between the two movies. The final battle was practically the same. No wonder we all felt we had watched Avatar before, thinking it was just the noble savage storyline at the time when the actual root of this feeling goes much deeper and far reaching.

Both movies involve a corporation (bad, greedy) planning to use a planet for it's resources. The company is always bad and is acting only in its best interests. The military is depicted as short sighted in both movies. Another obvious connection is the casting of Sigourney Weaver in a tough woman role in both movies. We noticed other casting choices for recent roles in Avatar that seemed to correspond with choices Cameron previously made in casting Aliens.

Clearly the roots of Avatar are found in Aliens. Then, when looking around to see if anyone else noticed the obvious connections between the two movies, I read that visually Avatar and the Halo games are quite similar and that Halo borrows from Cameron’s Aliens. When asked about this, Cameron claims since he originated it, he's allowed to reference it, or recycle it, depending on your point of view. Apparently Cameron has a little problem coming up with new, original ideas and other people have also noticed that Avatar uses many recycled concepts from his Aliens film. Interesting...

I Am Omega (2007)

The Asylum movie

Starring: Mark Dacascos, Geoff Meed Jennifer Lee Wiggins
Directed by Griff Furst

This is another last man on earth, Omega Man movie based on Richard Matheson's book I am Legend. Originally a SciFi channel movie, the most obvious weakness of I Am Omega is a lack of character development, but we weren't watching it for the plot or character development. There are some great zombies in this movie. Mark Dacascos is a martial arts master (and the Chairman on Iron Chef America) so he fights zombies with weapons, as well as roundhouse kicks and nunchuks. Dacascos is actually a decent actor, so he elevates this B movie. We liked it, but you know us...

Quotes:

Movie Dude: If you pee on a zombie does it die?

Lori: I'd like to think that, at least for a little bit, we could all fight our way through a zombie hoard.