Motion Sickness Association of America Reviews Avatar

Unlike the Blair Witch Project which received 3 stars from the Motion Sickness Association of America and the latest Jason Borne installment which scored an amazing 4 1/2 stars on the Motion Sickness Scale, Avatar received an impressive and yet-to-be achieved 5 star rating. It will most definetly take movie goers a full five days to fully recover their equilibrium.

Avatar starts us spinning from the very first scene and spits us out with a terrible case of sea-sickness that would rival any rough-water dinghy ride in the Cayman Islands. (This movie reviewer's personal worst motion-sickness episode.) But Avatar is a such a mesmerizing and new ride with such special effects and amazing scenery, that no matter how sick you start to feel you won't ever want to ask to get off.

Avatar will be just like the Tea Cup ride at Disney World. You will both love and hate it.

First, the plot: Donning 3-D glasses in an IMAX setting, movie goers are introduced to Jake Sully, a paraplegic ex-Marine who is going to an alien-filled planet, Pandora, which is rich with natural resources. Sully's mission, along with other new recruits, is simple: take on an Avatar body like those of the natives, infiltrate the native's society, gain their trust and then betray them. It is the age-old story of white man taking what is not his. But much like Avatar's special 3-D effects, the plot takes its own expected twist. To no one's surprise, Sully falls in love with the native people and a certain native maiden named Neytiri, and a John Smith/Pocahontas/Dances with Wolves scenario is introduced.

And a total and complete nauseating sickness overtakes the 3-D movie goers.

Now to the dialogue: The most sickening part of the movie was not its special effects or cheesy plot, but the terrible dialogue lines and sterotypical roles assigned by writer/director and cheesy "King of the World" himself, James Cameron. Here are a few examples: The head scientist, Dr. Grace, who obviously hates meat-head Marine, Sully, tells him, "Let your mind go blank, that should be easy for you." Later, the hard-ass helicopter pilot Trudy (Anna Lucia from LOST) smacks her gum (of course), then smirks and triumphantly spouts off, "You guys should see your faces" as the new recruits are introduced to the visually breathtaking scenery of Pandora.


[Here Cameron tells Sam Worthington (Jake Sully), "Now go over there and say, 'You had me at hello.' It will be perfect.]

But the most gag-inducing dialogue was assigned to the bad guy, Colonel Quaritch. The queasy feeling begins to creep in right from the start when Col. Quaritch explains to the new recurits, "You're not in Kansas anymore" when they land on Pandora. How original. And you really feel the need to hurl as he rounds out his terrible dialogue perfumance with, "Come to Pappa" when challenging the hero to duel in the final scenes.

And finally, the most dizzying effect: Mother Nature. Compounding the motion sickness caused by the incredible visual effects, the gut-wrenching dialogue and unoriginal plot line is the appearance of the Mother Nature-diety character, Ewya. It's not the nature part that we turn "green" over, it's the obvious parallel to Oprah Winfrey that Cameron draws here.


[Because she didn't like her Avatar, Oprah obviously chose the next best character that she thought fit her the best: the all-knowing, all-controlling deity character, Ewya.]

Ewya is the spiritual leader. She is all knowing, she loves everything, runs everything and even gives and takes life. She's an expert on mating rituals and lifetime mates, although there's never a Father Nature in the picture. Instead there's just a stand-in "Stedman" tribe leader who lets "Gail," his wife, run the show. And Gail and Ewya are pretty close. I think Ewya is so excited when Sully comes back to save the day that you hear a "Jaaaake Sullllly!!!" coming from the Life tree at one point. Nauseating.

By the end of the movie, you just wish that it would all end. Like nighttime in the forrest, movie-goers are going to feel like they are taking a bad trip at a neon-lit Rave. You will be begging Ewya to make the ceiling stop spinning.

The final word: You will be sickened by Avatar, but you must watch it and you won't be able to look away. Take a few deep breaths, keep your eyes on the horizon and have a barf-bag at the ready. You're in for a visually stimulating and vomit-inducing ride.

My Inner Beyoncé

For the last few months I've been working on a "total life overhaul." It has been one of the happiest times of my life where I've just taken some time to really figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

Currently, I'm finishing my Master's degree in professional and technical writing. All I have left is a three hour class on linguistics and my Mater's thesis: "How to market yourself online as a freelance writer." Writing my thesis entails logging some serious research time at the library, learning the useful bits about Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and WordPress and a lot of writing time at my kitchen table.

I've also had the opportunity to do some freelance work on a tourism guide to Rwanda and I just started a serious book club called 10 x 12 with my good friend, MM. And for the cherry on top, I'm attending the "Woman on a Mission" bible study every Wednesday morning for the next ten weeks. God and I are working out my purpose in life-- and let me tell you I am excited about it.

I've never loved my life more.

In the months to come, I will be launching my freelance writing business, appropriately named, The Tiger Lilies. Much like this blog that points out contradictions, my freelance writing business will focus on my contradiction as a writer and a person-- both technical and creative, "Type-A" and Diva all wrapped into one.

But as my "Type-A," technical writing personality checks off items on my to-do list, I've noticed that my inner Beyoncé is beginning to growl. She began getting antsy when American Idol started, and as we get closer to the top 24, she's feeling the need to perform. I mean, Ellen will be there!

I've always said that the first thing I'd like to do when I get to heaven is to be shown to the dinner table. And after about a decade there with dozens of Community Bakery's iced sugar cookies and Way out Willie's fajitas, St. Peter will be showing me to the stage.

Tiger Lily to my inner Beyoncé, she is being so patient.

Tiger Lily to Angst, Sallinger Style

A Rare Re-Post in Honor of the Late Sallinger.

About two weeks ago, Matt and I went on a much-needed vacation to Mexico. I was looking forward to eating too much at our all-inclusive resort and basking in the hot Cancun sun while washing away the swine flu with every hand-wash. And as part of my normal vacation ritual, I brought along a couple of books to read. (I am on this kick where I'm trying to read classics.) So as I was browsing the "required summer reading" shelves at Barnes and Noble, I ran across The Catcher in the Rye.

This particular edition of the "American Classic" didn't have a synopsis printed on the back or on the inside cover and I decided to take a gamble. I had no idea what the book was about, but I knew it was a classic and the first page caught my attention:

“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. In the first place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece if I told anything pretty personal about them. They’re quite touchy about anything like that, especially my father.”

The story opens with a depressed and angry 16-year old named Holden Caulfield, who has just been kicked out of his third or fourth prep school. The remaining 100 or so pages follow his trip home to face his parents who Holden expects will be very disappointed with him, yet again. The more the story continued to do nothing but follow this kid, the more engrossed I became. I empathized with this "screw up" who was terribly whiny and foul-mouthed. And as he described every adult he saw as a "phoney," I began to adopt his cynical views and became a little unhappy-- even on vacation. If I hadn't picked up Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons before we left, I might be in therapy right now.

The more I tried to figure out why The Catcher in the Rye was such an American Classic, the more baffled I became. And now, after two weeks of reflection, I have decided that this story of a young man's angst must have been cutting-edge in the 1950's. I'm sure this book was banned not only for the language and the mention of "feeling sexy" around a prostitute, but also because no one in America would have wanted little Johnny to adopt such a negative outlook on life.

All in all, I quite prefer Ferris Bueller's teen-angst to Holden Caulfield's. While I can relate with both characters, Ferris provides a more playful and hopeful view of what comes next in life, where Holden just depresses the hell out of you.

In response to all of this, I have begun trying to really focus on the "glass-half-full" approach to life. That, and Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons has really brought me out this loathing for all mankind and I'm starting to recover. Tiger Lily to Salinger's teen angst; it has caused me to focus on being happy.

Expectations and I are Facing Off.

This Tiger Lily is dedicated to Jennifer Anniston. (I'm sure she faced off with her Expectations years ago...)

Tonight I attended one of my good friend's weddings and caught myself really concentrating on what the preacher had to say. He gave a homily of sorts, but on the shorter side, (which we all can appreciate) and then ended the service with a simple prayer. He prayed that the couple would experience "peace" in their marriage.

Well, HELLO! Did the preacher say that at my wedding and I just wasn't paying attention? Tonight, it finally hit me. I've been expecting perfection all my life, and I'm not just talking about my marriage-- which is actually pretty great, thanks to my husband-- But instead, I should have been asking God for "peace" instead of expecting Him to deliver "perfection."

So what are these things, "EXPECTATIONS"? And why have mine been so out of control? I guess I stubbornly expect everything to be perfect, to be on my timeline and to work out beautifully. But tonight, I began to realize that I should be praying for more "peace" as life usually delivers the unexpected.

For instance, in 2009:

1. Michael Jackson passed away. Totally unexpected. And, further on this note, I loved This Is It. Also totally unexpected. (If you haven't seen it, you should. "God bless you.")

2. Taylor Swift won The Country Music Association's Entertainer of the Year Award. Have you heard her sing live? Totally unexpected.


She named her album, "Fearless." Because you would have to be to go to her concert.

3. Oprah announced she will retire. Wait, she's not God? She won't live forever? Again, unexpected.


Here she is praying. I guess that should have tipped me off that she wasn't deity incarnate.

4. The public is now loving Kate and hating Jon. Well you could knock me over with a feather.

5. The Octo-Mom did not sign on for a reality television show. Unexpected.




6. Obama wins the Nobel Peace Prize. (Settle down everybody, I'm just saying it was unexpected!)


Here he is after that great bank bail-out decision.

So Tiger Lily to Expectations. They almost never turn out the way you planned.

And kudos to Jennifer Anniston. From what I can see, she must have kicked Expectations to the curb and started asking for peace a long time ago.