There doesn’t have to be an
apocalyptic back story. Or even
an end-of-the-world apocalyptic
climax in your narrative at all.
The genre of “fantasy” is about as
serious a genre as one might encounter
in the world of fiction (we’re still in the
fiction section, okay). Whatever adaptation,
and they have been multiply significant, which
characters are at one point or another conclusive whether they
held the control, whether the wives were androids, being replaced by androids,
and when and how the audience is cognizant about anything the characters (wives or husbands or whomever) were unaware of (Are there separate realities for the sexes?) - Is there any omniscience within the story?
Are the Stepford wives cognizant? When and how and on what level are they relatable? How about when Glenn Close
begins stepfordizing [the other sex, the men;]? And do the women then get real POWER? Does the addition of
this line in this stanza destroy the sonnet-ness of this piece about the wives’ subservience, and
the characters’ willingness to either play along (Were they robots unable to play along,
each and all? No, this doesn’t seem to be the case?). And again, has Close provided new deep meaning
in the switch of the role of the sex of the automatons from female to potentially male? What if
Rose Byrne and Ted Danson played roles in this all-star more serious less campy but funnier version, doesn’t the timeframe allow for the possibility that these
three actors had worked together before the dystopian Damages? Why’d I just pigeonhole Damages into dystopian (subgenre, right, no need to genrify dystopian this way)?
Nah. Milk the fantasy, rewrap the bleak, be Matthew Broderick nerdily in charge of the subservient wife fantasy;
of being able to control Nicole Kidman by the various methods vaguely referenced earlier (scroll up). Close with the sort of feminist
fantasy. This is not what we call the genre of fantasy, am I not right? I know there are android bleeps
and bloops mixed throughout some of these individual plot-lines. But what about the dragons of phantasy as they blobbily move from Ursula LeGuin to George R. R.
Martin. The way of which author is best? How about Robert A. Heinlein (*let’s start bringing him up a lot; his was my favorite science fiction writing, I was 9-11 years old when I ate up all of his middle school and high school library tomes...),
the most relatable to me at the time of my reading; (there was an admixture of fantasy with the sci-fi I called it.). Maybe I’m thinking about how sc-ifi turned
so dark after the 1970s and 1980s. The optimism dissipated, even if it was that rare apocalyptic-themed,
iconic milestone. In general, optimism disappeared. All of this stuff. All of this relatively insignificant stuff (to anyone else I knew)
of being able to control Nicole Kidman by the various methods vaguely referenced earlier (scroll up). Close with the sort of feminist
fantasy. This is not what we call the genre of fantasy, am I not right? I know there are android bleeps
and bloops mixed throughout some of these individual plot-lines. But what about the dragons of phantasy as they blobbily move from Ursula LeGuin to George R. R.
Martin. The way of which author is best? How about Robert A. Heinlein (*let’s start bringing him up a lot; his was my favorite science fiction writing, I was 9-11 years old when I ate up all of his middle school and high school library tomes...),
the most relatable to me at the time of my reading; (there was an admixture of fantasy with the sci-fi I called it.). Maybe I’m thinking about how sc-ifi turned
so dark after the 1970s and 1980s. The optimism dissipated, even if it was that rare apocalyptic-themed,
iconic milestone. In general, optimism disappeared. All of this stuff. All of this relatively insignificant stuff (to anyone else I knew)
was meaningful (and yet) to me because of my very personal and precocious relationship with these writers/characters, and my act of engaged reading at that young age, of so much of it, strapping in with the endless optimism in the bogs of science fiction. But it would take
so many more years before I could ever begin to understand camp and its relation to this stuff. This is
what I glom onto now, but what of it? I’ll tell you what of it. I can’t quite get to the apocalyptic dead-end science fiction and fantasy, the bleakness it inevitably would be, is. This is fine because I don’t have a clue about many things here. And yet, who’s the narrator of this. Nerdy 80s jokes? And the scolding of people into voting. There. Let’s end it this way. With tut-tuts meant well, if at all.
One five-lined stanza. With more lines than that. But in essence thanks to a lack of length of white space but still it's one page: Five lines. So long they might be split up. Where do we find the hope we have (I have) created by opening it all up just so?
so many more years before I could ever begin to understand camp and its relation to this stuff. This is
what I glom onto now, but what of it? I’ll tell you what of it. I can’t quite get to the apocalyptic dead-end science fiction and fantasy, the bleakness it inevitably would be, is. This is fine because I don’t have a clue about many things here. And yet, who’s the narrator of this. Nerdy 80s jokes? And the scolding of people into voting. There. Let’s end it this way. With tut-tuts meant well, if at all.
One five-lined stanza. With more lines than that. But in essence thanks to a lack of length of white space but still it's one page: Five lines. So long they might be split up. Where do we find the hope we have (I have) created by opening it all up just so?
