When I was maybe five years old, my parents took us to a cozy farmhouse-cum-resort in the Poconos called Daniels Top-O-The-Poconos Family Resort (which, I am heartened to learn, is still thriving!)
Too young to be critical of much, I and my more discerning sister Liz attended its family-friendly (though admittedly somewhat lame) roster of activities with gusto... which included thrill-a-minute affairs such as "Snipe Hunting" (yes, really), and "Deer Feeding."
Liz was quick to call shenanigans on the Snipe affair, but the Deer situation ... well, that I'm sure was seen as just as ridiculous to most if not everyone else... but to us, it resonates even today.
You see, these were wild deer we were to feed.
And this required standing statue-still in a high-grass field with an open palm of doughy deer food, while the deer slowly edged their noses from the forest beyond. There were maybe ten or twenty of us to start ... And one by one, they all quit, hurling the pasty bits into the grass.
I have vague memories of our parents suggesting that we throw in the towel as well. But we didn't.
When they saw our determination, they were inspired to stick it out too.
My mother recalls we were there for at least a half an hour, though at that age I had no sense of time. I don't even recall my arm feeling tired, though I suppose it must have been.
The only thing I recall is the rough, gently slithery tongue of the deer as it slurped the food from my palm while it let me touch it's feathery ear with my other hand. A second deer gingerly lapped up my sister's offering before both sped back to the forest.
Over the years, as insecurities, doubts and anxieties crept into my personality, this level of patience began to desert me as that deer might have if I hadn't kept quietly still, stalwart in my belief that it would trust me. If, say, I'd rushed towards it, demanding it accept my gift -- as I have found myself doing in too many other situations -- I would have ended the day with a frightened deer and faithless disappointment in myself.
If, indeed, I had behaved that way, I would have revealed that even in giving, I would have been taking; that the desired interaction would have been for my sake, and not for the sake of the creature, or for the joy of our momentary interaction.
Now... at this time in my life, when many of my most deeply cherished dreams are starting to come true ... I recall that five-year-old self ... who knew how to place herself exactly where she needed to be, whose little foot rested steadfastly on the deepest, purest conviction in knowing that all she had to do ... is wait.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Projection Reflection
In yet another discussion about my recent "Projection" entries -- my Adventures in Projection and Projection Flashback -- a friend suggested that Alice (of the latter entry) was jumping to conclusions rather than projecting.
Which made me ponder: What is the difference between jumping to conclusions and psychological projection?
They are both related, as both create a full, defined image of a person or situation based on very little actual data. And in Alice's case, I would say she certainly engaged in "Mind Reading" (per the Wikipedia entry) as she decided she knew my intentions, when of course she didn't and couldn't have.
So, yes, her conclusions were jumpily unwarranted.
But the intensity of her anger towards me and the ridiculous scope of her accusation indicated something more at work than merely a conclusion, which is more a mental process: You take a small amount of data and fill in the rest with data from your bank of personal belief and experience.
Now, yes, emotion may play a role here, but it's secondary to thought. And if given convincing contrary data, that thought process can be adjusted to a more accurate conclusion. (One hopes).
But I've found that two key elements of psychological projection are (1) strong emotion; and (2) a vigorous refusal to see anything other than the projection. Indeed, any contrary data is either ignored altogether, or mindbendingly woven into the projection. (In other words, if you are someone's screen o'projection, you will be damned if you do and damned if you don't -- everything will be used against you in their court of craziness to shore up their image of you).
According to Jung, the refusal to let the projection fall is tied to the projector's need to deny in him/herself the very qualities he/she is projecting.
So denial of one's own qualities is the third key element to projection.
The projector NEEDS to project the qualities away from him/herself, to create a scapegoat to be sent off into the desert. This has a dual purpose: (1) it deflects attention of the projector's unwanted qualities onto another (as though others aren't smart enough to realize "whoever smelt it dealt it"), and (2) it creates the illusion that the projector can rid him/herself of those qualities simply by destroying the object of projection -- which is exactly what Alice did. Great for everything from teen cliques to genocide. Yay humanity.
In Alice's case, it turned out that she, in fact, was very destructive to the relationships of the people around her. Most likely, her sister's fight with her financé was caused by something she herself had said or done. But of course, she was not able to consider that possibility, especially when it was so much fun to verbally beat the crap out of a naïve teenager.
Of course, I can look back now and say, "Oh yes... of course I was completely innocent. How could I have thought otherwise?"
Easily.
Because when one is the object of projection -- especially in the midst of it, without the perspective of years and self-knowledge -- it is very difficult to tease out the real self from the projected image precisely because the projection often contains a hint of truth about the object.
As another friend noted, when he read the story about Alice:
"The same thing has happened to me more than once. Nothing I really care to share with the public but... yeah. I can relate!"
In the case of Alice, and from the vantage point of many years' growth and introspection, it is very clear that I was innocent. Although I didn't feel that way at the time... for weeks I believed I was exactly what she told me I was. Or worse, I didn't know what I was...
Usually in these situations, there is always the specter of: "Are they RIGHT?" Because a lot of the time the other person will be a tiny fraction right ... but they make it their entire vision of us.
As Jung observed: "Something that strikes [the projector] about [an] object [of projection] may very well be a real property of that object. …it frequently happens that the object offers a hook to the projection, and even lures it out. This is generally the case when the object himself (or herself) is not conscious of the quality in question."
And this is a curious thing...
If Jung is to be believed, Alice had in fact seen a part of me of which I was unaware, and which was calling both my and her attention to bring it into consciousness.
So what was this part of me? I believe it was related to sexuality -- or at least what sexuality represented to me at that time, in terms of being "grown up."
Although I was a "precocious" teen (as the Older Men who hit on me liked to say), I was extremely young psychologically and emotionally. Ironically, I had spent the bulk of my childhood intently focused on Being Mature -- to join the utopic World of Adults as soon as possible -- so in many ways I prevented myself from growing up.
I was very unpopular with boys my age (well, with just about everyone my age), but as I got tall and womanly, I seemed at least 10 years older than I was. And there is no shortage of Older Male fish looking for a taste of jailbait...
I think part of me must have sensed the negative aspects of sexuality -- that it is used destructively, to control, manipulate, even injure -- but I did not want to deal with that part at all.
I wanted the good part: affection and attention. Because affection feels so good, and attention looks an awful lot like love, because when we love a thing, we give it our full, adoring, undivided attention. Unfortunately, the reverse is rarely the case....
And this is the truth that was burrowing its way into my awareness, and which I was desperately suppressing: Sexuality is attractive, and it seems to bring love and connection, but it can also very often do the opposite, injuring and exploiting both parties.
So perhaps many women are completely unaware of these negative aspects, and so they don't form a compelling shadow that attracts the kind of projection that I was receiving; or they have no problem embracing the negative side and gleefully cock-tease their way towards ego fulfillment.
And maybe it works for them... I have seen many romantically successful women get away with all kinds of crap that would make me want to crawl into a sewer. And their men put up with it... dare I say, even want it. (Hence books like Why Men Marry Bitches).
Hell, my own grandmother's "feminist" advice was to marry a rich man, then divorce him and take all his money.
Ugh.
But that's not what I'm about.
And even at that age, as I was becoming aware of these negative aspects, I was also at deeper levels realizing that I did NOT want to be a part of that dynamic. Yes, I wanted attention and affection, but I wanted it to be real, to be personal -- not the result of a biological response, and not to be exploited for material gain.
And I suppose it took Alice's telephonic witch-burning to cast the first light on what I truly did want.
Which made me ponder: What is the difference between jumping to conclusions and psychological projection?
They are both related, as both create a full, defined image of a person or situation based on very little actual data. And in Alice's case, I would say she certainly engaged in "Mind Reading" (per the Wikipedia entry) as she decided she knew my intentions, when of course she didn't and couldn't have.
So, yes, her conclusions were jumpily unwarranted.
But the intensity of her anger towards me and the ridiculous scope of her accusation indicated something more at work than merely a conclusion, which is more a mental process: You take a small amount of data and fill in the rest with data from your bank of personal belief and experience.
Now, yes, emotion may play a role here, but it's secondary to thought. And if given convincing contrary data, that thought process can be adjusted to a more accurate conclusion. (One hopes).
But I've found that two key elements of psychological projection are (1) strong emotion; and (2) a vigorous refusal to see anything other than the projection. Indeed, any contrary data is either ignored altogether, or mindbendingly woven into the projection. (In other words, if you are someone's screen o'projection, you will be damned if you do and damned if you don't -- everything will be used against you in their court of craziness to shore up their image of you).
According to Jung, the refusal to let the projection fall is tied to the projector's need to deny in him/herself the very qualities he/she is projecting.
So denial of one's own qualities is the third key element to projection.
The projector NEEDS to project the qualities away from him/herself, to create a scapegoat to be sent off into the desert. This has a dual purpose: (1) it deflects attention of the projector's unwanted qualities onto another (as though others aren't smart enough to realize "whoever smelt it dealt it"), and (2) it creates the illusion that the projector can rid him/herself of those qualities simply by destroying the object of projection -- which is exactly what Alice did. Great for everything from teen cliques to genocide. Yay humanity.
In Alice's case, it turned out that she, in fact, was very destructive to the relationships of the people around her. Most likely, her sister's fight with her financé was caused by something she herself had said or done. But of course, she was not able to consider that possibility, especially when it was so much fun to verbally beat the crap out of a naïve teenager.
Of course, I can look back now and say, "Oh yes... of course I was completely innocent. How could I have thought otherwise?"
Easily.
Because when one is the object of projection -- especially in the midst of it, without the perspective of years and self-knowledge -- it is very difficult to tease out the real self from the projected image precisely because the projection often contains a hint of truth about the object.
As another friend noted, when he read the story about Alice:
"The same thing has happened to me more than once. Nothing I really care to share with the public but... yeah. I can relate!"
In the case of Alice, and from the vantage point of many years' growth and introspection, it is very clear that I was innocent. Although I didn't feel that way at the time... for weeks I believed I was exactly what she told me I was. Or worse, I didn't know what I was...
Usually in these situations, there is always the specter of: "Are they RIGHT?" Because a lot of the time the other person will be a tiny fraction right ... but they make it their entire vision of us.
As Jung observed: "Something that strikes [the projector] about [an] object [of projection] may very well be a real property of that object. …it frequently happens that the object offers a hook to the projection, and even lures it out. This is generally the case when the object himself (or herself) is not conscious of the quality in question."
And this is a curious thing...
If Jung is to be believed, Alice had in fact seen a part of me of which I was unaware, and which was calling both my and her attention to bring it into consciousness.
So what was this part of me? I believe it was related to sexuality -- or at least what sexuality represented to me at that time, in terms of being "grown up."
Although I was a "precocious" teen (as the Older Men who hit on me liked to say), I was extremely young psychologically and emotionally. Ironically, I had spent the bulk of my childhood intently focused on Being Mature -- to join the utopic World of Adults as soon as possible -- so in many ways I prevented myself from growing up.
I was very unpopular with boys my age (well, with just about everyone my age), but as I got tall and womanly, I seemed at least 10 years older than I was. And there is no shortage of Older Male fish looking for a taste of jailbait...
I think part of me must have sensed the negative aspects of sexuality -- that it is used destructively, to control, manipulate, even injure -- but I did not want to deal with that part at all.
I wanted the good part: affection and attention. Because affection feels so good, and attention looks an awful lot like love, because when we love a thing, we give it our full, adoring, undivided attention. Unfortunately, the reverse is rarely the case....
And this is the truth that was burrowing its way into my awareness, and which I was desperately suppressing: Sexuality is attractive, and it seems to bring love and connection, but it can also very often do the opposite, injuring and exploiting both parties.
So perhaps many women are completely unaware of these negative aspects, and so they don't form a compelling shadow that attracts the kind of projection that I was receiving; or they have no problem embracing the negative side and gleefully cock-tease their way towards ego fulfillment.
And maybe it works for them... I have seen many romantically successful women get away with all kinds of crap that would make me want to crawl into a sewer. And their men put up with it... dare I say, even want it. (Hence books like Why Men Marry Bitches).
Hell, my own grandmother's "feminist" advice was to marry a rich man, then divorce him and take all his money.
Ugh.
But that's not what I'm about.
And even at that age, as I was becoming aware of these negative aspects, I was also at deeper levels realizing that I did NOT want to be a part of that dynamic. Yes, I wanted attention and affection, but I wanted it to be real, to be personal -- not the result of a biological response, and not to be exploited for material gain.
And I suppose it took Alice's telephonic witch-burning to cast the first light on what I truly did want.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Projection Flashback
Discussing yesterday's Adventure in Projection with a friend, he remarked: "I would argue that projecting of a view onto others is not a male trait but a human one."
And I would agree.
In fact, my very first traumatic experience of being slammed with another's projection came at the hands of a woman.
The summer before I entered college, I met a graduate student of my new university whom I will call Alice, because that was her name.
Big-eyed, frizzy-haired and barely five feet tall, Alice was a good friend of a DJ at the radio station where I was an intern and took an immediate shine to me. I had not yet learned to be wary of immediate shines and, as a socially awkward and less-than-popular teen who craved any kind of friendly attention, I shined right back.
She asked if I wanted to go clubbing that weekend and, even though I was four years under age, I was six feet tall and looked 25, so I eagerly accepted her invitation. We traipsed through the then-hot spots like Limelight and The Tunnel and finished off at some gay bar in the West Village where I was mistaken for a transvestite. (I cleared the matter by putting my suitor's hand on my crotch; he recoiled in horror.)
Alice squealed with delight at my ballsy ball-lessness and asked if I wanted to go for a nightcap in her neighborhood. We got in a cab and emerged somewhere in Sunnyside. After a few more beers, we decided it was too late and too far for me to make it home to Brooklyn so she invited me to crash at her spacious one-bedroom.
"So the bathroom's there, and here's the sofa bed," she smiled warmly, "It's pulled out because the leg of my bed is busted so I've been sleeping out here. We can just crash together.... if that's OK...?"
"Um... sure..."
I bathed quickly, put on a long T shirt and passed out the moment my body hit the bed. I woke up only a few hours later to find her staring down at me.
"I was watching your eyes as you slept," she cooed, "I was wondering what you were dreaming about."
"I... I don't remember."
Now, to you, dear readers, I'm sure it's very clear what was happening here.
And even I, at that time, was dimly aware at an intuitive level. But my "rational" (or "rationalizing") side had Olympic-strength powers of denial. I vigorously argued down nearly every soul-saving impulse I had: "How can you judge her? She hasn't touched you or made any suggestive remarks. She just wants to be your friend!"
So we went to breakfast; she asked me to call her when I got home. I did.
She called me nearly every day for the next week or so. When was I available? Would I like to get together for this or that?
She belonged to a little poetry group in Park Slope and asked if I'd like to share some of my work. I agreed, and arrived the next Saturday at a prim Brownstone near Sixth Avenue. It belonged to a young sober but artsy couple, both decidedly diminutive.
There were a few others in that mould ... formless cotton dresses, colored khakis and polo shirts, but also tasteful, unique silver jewelry on both the men and women. (Can you say "Trust Fund"??)
We went around the circle reading our various poetical offerings. I was the only one who wrote in rhyme.
At the end of the session, I ran to the bathroom to evacuate the considerable amount of jasmine green tea I'd consumed. When I opened the door, the apartment was dark and the male half of the apartment's native couple stood in front of me.
"Are you OK?" he asked
"Sure ... uh ... sorry. Did I take too long?"
"Well, everyone's already gone."
"Oh. OK. Well, I guess I'll see you later."
I grabbed my bag and skipped down the long stoop.
Alice called the next day and asked if I wanted to come to her birthday party. "Sure!" I said, now fully enjoying the social life her friendship was bringing me.
The party was a lively chatterbox of even cooler artsy types. And Alice, apparently, had a new boyfriend -- a tall Bill Murray handsome-ish guy in a silky button-down that looked faintly creepy to me. Whew, I thought; she was straight after all.
More radio people showed -- including her friend the DJ whom I'd secretly been crushing on. There were actors and graphic artists, writers and sculptors, all seemed charmingly humble and even geeky.
My favorite conversation compared the original Star Trek with the then-new Next Generation. This playful argument dwindled to include only me and a young man who insisted that no bald, stiff-backed Bard-head could hold a candle to his James Tiberius.
Finally the man was pulled away by a woman whom I later heard crying and yelling in the hallway. I shrugged and went back to the beer table.
In retrospect, there was something very wrong with the party from around that moment on (and probably before). But my denial-side rationalized: People get silly and crazy at parties, so some emotion is floating around. So what. And it has nothing to do with me, anyway....
I and the other stragglers crashed on the couch, chairs or floor. As we groggily pulled ourselves up in the morning, it seemed there was a move towards a group breakfast.
"No," Alice said, "There isn't."
I got my stuff and left.
I didn't hear from Alice for a while after that.
On a Saturday morning, over an hour before I was supposed to be up for a Shakespeare class, the phone rang. My mother woke me urgently -- something she would never have done unless she had been told it was an absolute emergency.
It was Alice.
"I just wanted to tell you that you're a horrible person and I never want to see or speak to you again."
"Uh.. huh... Whaaa??"
"I invited you into my circle of friends because I thought you were nice and pretty and smart and I liked you. And all you have done is try to destroy my friendships and hurt the people who are important to me."
"What..??? What are you talking about...?" (I'm actually not sure I was articulate enough to say even this ... but the dumbfounded question repeated endlessly through my mind.)
"At the poetry circle you KNEW my friend and her husband were having troubles, and you stayed behind after everyone had left so you could hit on him, and they almost divorced! And at the party, my sister got in a HUGE FIGHT with her fiancé because of something you said!! And then you kept coming on to MY BOYFRIEND?"
Whaa..?? The creepy guy in the disco shirt?? Really??? Did I? Had I...?
"So I just want you to know I know what you're all about and I'm DONE with you!!"
And she slammed the phone down.
The back of my throat burned as tears surged down my face. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Was I that person?? Was I some vicious, destructive femme fatale? A fledgling Marquise de Merteuil determined to control and exploit everyone around me?
Um. No.
I was an insecure, earnest 17-year-old desperate to be loved and accepted.
But I didn't know myself well enough to be able to stand against her definition of me. For days and weeks I cried buckets, barely able function, feeling as though my innards had been ripped out and stomped on. How could my perceptions be so completely different from the story she was telling me...?? It made no sense....
If, indeed, I had had any self-awareness at all at that time, any ability to unpack that stinking load of horseshit she had dumped on my virgin ears, it would have been very clear:
She kept saying, "you knew" and "all your fault" -- about people and situations where I did not and could not have had any knowledge -- as she repeated, "I know all about you" and "I know who you really are"...
Of course she didn't; she didn't know me at all. Nor was she capable of doing so.
But such is the case with projections. To a narcissist, everyone and everything is a extension of themselves with no perspective or even life of its own. They believe the world sees and knows as they know, so in her mind of course I "knew all about" her, when the real me hadn't a clue.
Something inside of her was undermining her life, perhaps damaging her relationships. For all I know, there was no real damage in the relationships of her friends and her sister, but she was likely projecting her own inner state onto them too. And since she clearly could not bear to hold herself accountable for any of this discord -- real or imagined -- she needed a scapegoat:
Me.
"She wanted you and couldn't have you," observed my psych-major pal, "So she had to destroy you. Simple as that."
Years later, I came to know a mutual friend who confirmed that, in fact, Alice's life had been out of control, as she grasped towards unavailable people and things in her field of aspiration -- just as I had been doing, actually -- which is perhaps the similarity that had really brought us together.
But I was 17 and she was 23.
My friend described her as being sexually confused: occasionally bisexual, dating men, but in frequent pursuit of straight women. He told me about one in particular whom she deemed her "best friend," and whom she would manipulate with carefully doled out praise and criticism.
Many, many years later, visiting the psychiatric wing of St. Vincent's Hospital, I saw her. She smiled at me sheepishly, and turned away quickly. I wondered if she had realized the damage she had done to me...
Part of me wanted to scream, "You crazy fucking bitch! Do you realize you fucking traumatized me when I was a kid?!?"
But I didn't. I imagined she was probably there for treatment of some sort, so perhaps she was fixing whatever had been wrong in her life. And if she was, then she may have had some awareness of the pain she'd caused me and others.
And if she didn't, then my attacking her wasn't going to change anything. All it would do was confirm her projection of me.
And I knew: That's not who I was.
And I would agree.
In fact, my very first traumatic experience of being slammed with another's projection came at the hands of a woman.
The summer before I entered college, I met a graduate student of my new university whom I will call Alice, because that was her name.
Big-eyed, frizzy-haired and barely five feet tall, Alice was a good friend of a DJ at the radio station where I was an intern and took an immediate shine to me. I had not yet learned to be wary of immediate shines and, as a socially awkward and less-than-popular teen who craved any kind of friendly attention, I shined right back.
She asked if I wanted to go clubbing that weekend and, even though I was four years under age, I was six feet tall and looked 25, so I eagerly accepted her invitation. We traipsed through the then-hot spots like Limelight and The Tunnel and finished off at some gay bar in the West Village where I was mistaken for a transvestite. (I cleared the matter by putting my suitor's hand on my crotch; he recoiled in horror.)
Alice squealed with delight at my ballsy ball-lessness and asked if I wanted to go for a nightcap in her neighborhood. We got in a cab and emerged somewhere in Sunnyside. After a few more beers, we decided it was too late and too far for me to make it home to Brooklyn so she invited me to crash at her spacious one-bedroom.
"So the bathroom's there, and here's the sofa bed," she smiled warmly, "It's pulled out because the leg of my bed is busted so I've been sleeping out here. We can just crash together.... if that's OK...?"
"Um... sure..."
I bathed quickly, put on a long T shirt and passed out the moment my body hit the bed. I woke up only a few hours later to find her staring down at me.
"I was watching your eyes as you slept," she cooed, "I was wondering what you were dreaming about."
"I... I don't remember."
Now, to you, dear readers, I'm sure it's very clear what was happening here.
And even I, at that time, was dimly aware at an intuitive level. But my "rational" (or "rationalizing") side had Olympic-strength powers of denial. I vigorously argued down nearly every soul-saving impulse I had: "How can you judge her? She hasn't touched you or made any suggestive remarks. She just wants to be your friend!"
So we went to breakfast; she asked me to call her when I got home. I did.
She called me nearly every day for the next week or so. When was I available? Would I like to get together for this or that?
She belonged to a little poetry group in Park Slope and asked if I'd like to share some of my work. I agreed, and arrived the next Saturday at a prim Brownstone near Sixth Avenue. It belonged to a young sober but artsy couple, both decidedly diminutive.
There were a few others in that mould ... formless cotton dresses, colored khakis and polo shirts, but also tasteful, unique silver jewelry on both the men and women. (Can you say "Trust Fund"??)
We went around the circle reading our various poetical offerings. I was the only one who wrote in rhyme.
At the end of the session, I ran to the bathroom to evacuate the considerable amount of jasmine green tea I'd consumed. When I opened the door, the apartment was dark and the male half of the apartment's native couple stood in front of me.
"Are you OK?" he asked
"Sure ... uh ... sorry. Did I take too long?"
"Well, everyone's already gone."
"Oh. OK. Well, I guess I'll see you later."
I grabbed my bag and skipped down the long stoop.
Alice called the next day and asked if I wanted to come to her birthday party. "Sure!" I said, now fully enjoying the social life her friendship was bringing me.
The party was a lively chatterbox of even cooler artsy types. And Alice, apparently, had a new boyfriend -- a tall Bill Murray handsome-ish guy in a silky button-down that looked faintly creepy to me. Whew, I thought; she was straight after all.
More radio people showed -- including her friend the DJ whom I'd secretly been crushing on. There were actors and graphic artists, writers and sculptors, all seemed charmingly humble and even geeky.
My favorite conversation compared the original Star Trek with the then-new Next Generation. This playful argument dwindled to include only me and a young man who insisted that no bald, stiff-backed Bard-head could hold a candle to his James Tiberius.
Finally the man was pulled away by a woman whom I later heard crying and yelling in the hallway. I shrugged and went back to the beer table.
In retrospect, there was something very wrong with the party from around that moment on (and probably before). But my denial-side rationalized: People get silly and crazy at parties, so some emotion is floating around. So what. And it has nothing to do with me, anyway....
I and the other stragglers crashed on the couch, chairs or floor. As we groggily pulled ourselves up in the morning, it seemed there was a move towards a group breakfast.
"No," Alice said, "There isn't."
I got my stuff and left.
I didn't hear from Alice for a while after that.
On a Saturday morning, over an hour before I was supposed to be up for a Shakespeare class, the phone rang. My mother woke me urgently -- something she would never have done unless she had been told it was an absolute emergency.
It was Alice.
"I just wanted to tell you that you're a horrible person and I never want to see or speak to you again."
"Uh.. huh... Whaaa??"
"I invited you into my circle of friends because I thought you were nice and pretty and smart and I liked you. And all you have done is try to destroy my friendships and hurt the people who are important to me."
"What..??? What are you talking about...?" (I'm actually not sure I was articulate enough to say even this ... but the dumbfounded question repeated endlessly through my mind.)
"At the poetry circle you KNEW my friend and her husband were having troubles, and you stayed behind after everyone had left so you could hit on him, and they almost divorced! And at the party, my sister got in a HUGE FIGHT with her fiancé because of something you said!! And then you kept coming on to MY BOYFRIEND?"
Whaa..?? The creepy guy in the disco shirt?? Really??? Did I? Had I...?
"So I just want you to know I know what you're all about and I'm DONE with you!!"
And she slammed the phone down.
The back of my throat burned as tears surged down my face. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Was I that person?? Was I some vicious, destructive femme fatale? A fledgling Marquise de Merteuil determined to control and exploit everyone around me?
Um. No.
I was an insecure, earnest 17-year-old desperate to be loved and accepted.
But I didn't know myself well enough to be able to stand against her definition of me. For days and weeks I cried buckets, barely able function, feeling as though my innards had been ripped out and stomped on. How could my perceptions be so completely different from the story she was telling me...?? It made no sense....
If, indeed, I had had any self-awareness at all at that time, any ability to unpack that stinking load of horseshit she had dumped on my virgin ears, it would have been very clear:
She kept saying, "you knew" and "all your fault" -- about people and situations where I did not and could not have had any knowledge -- as she repeated, "I know all about you" and "I know who you really are"...
Of course she didn't; she didn't know me at all. Nor was she capable of doing so.
But such is the case with projections. To a narcissist, everyone and everything is a extension of themselves with no perspective or even life of its own. They believe the world sees and knows as they know, so in her mind of course I "knew all about" her, when the real me hadn't a clue.
Something inside of her was undermining her life, perhaps damaging her relationships. For all I know, there was no real damage in the relationships of her friends and her sister, but she was likely projecting her own inner state onto them too. And since she clearly could not bear to hold herself accountable for any of this discord -- real or imagined -- she needed a scapegoat:
Me.
"She wanted you and couldn't have you," observed my psych-major pal, "So she had to destroy you. Simple as that."
Years later, I came to know a mutual friend who confirmed that, in fact, Alice's life had been out of control, as she grasped towards unavailable people and things in her field of aspiration -- just as I had been doing, actually -- which is perhaps the similarity that had really brought us together.
But I was 17 and she was 23.
My friend described her as being sexually confused: occasionally bisexual, dating men, but in frequent pursuit of straight women. He told me about one in particular whom she deemed her "best friend," and whom she would manipulate with carefully doled out praise and criticism.
Many, many years later, visiting the psychiatric wing of St. Vincent's Hospital, I saw her. She smiled at me sheepishly, and turned away quickly. I wondered if she had realized the damage she had done to me...
Part of me wanted to scream, "You crazy fucking bitch! Do you realize you fucking traumatized me when I was a kid?!?"
But I didn't. I imagined she was probably there for treatment of some sort, so perhaps she was fixing whatever had been wrong in her life. And if she was, then she may have had some awareness of the pain she'd caused me and others.
And if she didn't, then my attacking her wasn't going to change anything. All it would do was confirm her projection of me.
And I knew: That's not who I was.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Assault by Projection, and Other Weird Adventures in the New Year
Last night I went to the birthday party of a musician who is an especially beloved member of the bellydance community.
The place was packed with dancers and musicians (some of whom had seen my solo show show the Sunday before), so there were a few discussions about it and I handed out flyers here and there to friends and friends of friends.
I also laid about 10 flyers on the counter near the bar (which is where people usually put promotional stuff), and three on the bar itself.
But most of the time, I was dancing along with everyone else. At one point, I picked up a votive candle and began dancing with it in my palm. Since the candle was little more than wick in oil, it was tricky to balance it perfectly to keep the flame from going out -- which it finally did.
I went to find a match, but a shortish young guy in a white button-down shirt gave me a freshly lit one. “Thank you!” I grinned, and returned to the floor.
About an hour later, a man from the table where I’d first taken the candle complimented me on my dancing and raved about how much they liked the woman who had performed professionally that night. He loved that, although she was “older,” she was truly ageless when she danced... The group was dumbfounded by her beauty and grace, because they did not know what to expect from a bellydance event (the guy I was talking to had met the birthday boy casually a few weeks before and agreed to swing by).
So I told them that this was the very topic I address in my solo show -- about how beautiful and empowering bellydance is -- that it isn't a dance of seduction (as is often portrayed) but of owning one's own strength, power and grace … They asked about my performance dates and I ran back to my bag to get some flyers and handed them to the guy and his friends.
Within seconds, the very guy who had given me the candle while I was dancing rushed up to me and barked, "I want you to stop handing out flyers! You put them all over the bar. You've been doing this all night, and you have to stop!" And he returned to the bar.
I thought about this for a minute... If I had been indiscriminately laying them on tables and forcing them on people I didn't know, then he might have a case. But I hadn't been. I was giving them only to people I knew, or people who had expressly asked for them.
I was not going to stand for being bullied and accused of doing something that I had not been doing.
So I strode up to Mr. Manager and said, "It was completely inappropriate for you to embarrass me in front of those people. I gave them the cards because they ASKED for them, and for no other reason. I have not been ‘handing them out all night.’ I have been giving them to friends only. You have no right to accuse me of doing something I wasn’t doing!! So FUCK YOU!"
I went back to my table and stuffed $40 in the billfold for a $30 check and went to the bathroom. I was in there for barely a minute when I heard a booming knock at the door.
When I got out, the manager huffed, "I want you to pay your check and leave!!"
"Excuse me??" I said.
"You are being very rude and are talking down to me and are using obscene language," he babbled, "and I want you to pay your check and leave!"
Then we went back and forth more about the flyers -- about whom I had given them to, when and why. "Well, I've removed all your flyers from the bar,” he pronounced, “They're torn up. Destroyed. Gone. They're in the trash. So pay your check and leave."
The waiter came back with my change. "Keep it," I mouthed, then turned to the manager. "I HAVE paid my check."
"Then get your things and get home safely."
"But.... " I added.
Now, even though I had planned to leave, now that this gentleman was digging in his heels and bullying me yet more, it was time for him to learn that my heels were longer and sharper.
"I am not ready to leave." I jutted my chin and went back to my table.
He bristled. “I want you to leave. So get home safely.”
"Well, I’m not going. So I guess you'll just have to call the police."
"OK!" He sniffed and went off to another area of the restaurant, presumably to call the police. I gathered my things and started making my goodbyes. But as I passed by the bar, I ran into a guy I'd been speaking to earlier who asked me to stay a little longer.
"I don't know," I grimaced, "This manager is kind of flipping out. He said he has called the police to have me thrown out."
"What?? Why?"
"For handing out flyers."
"But you know everyone here!"
"Yes.. I know. The guy's a nutcase."
"Oh come on.. the police aren't going to come. They have better things to do than indulge this fool."
And I realized, my friend was right. I wasn't being disorderly. He had no legitimate complaint against me. If the police were REALLY bored enough to show up, I would just say that the manager and I had had an affair a few weeks before, that he was bad in the sack and I had dumped him. And now he was getting his revenge.
But most likely, I knew, that would not be necessary. And it would have been kind of cruel on my part -- although not undeserved -- and I don’t like being cruel.
Anyway. It was clear he had no way to get rid of me. I knew it, and he knew it.
So when the manager finally strode up to me and said, "The police are on their way,” I responded, “Well then, I guess I'll just have to wait for them." And took off my coat.
Then I looked at him very level (or not so level since he was quite a bit shorter than me), and said, "You are a child and a fool. You need to learn how to pick your fights."
I tossed down my coat and my friend bought me a beer.
And then my friend said, "You know, I think maybe that guy likes you."
At first, this seemed quite crazy to me... but then I realized … maybe not....
This sort of thing has happened to me a lot... men find me attractive, but maybe not approachable. They assume I will reject them, or I am not the sort of woman they are usually attracted to, and so they get angry at themselves for their attraction.
And this brings out some very strange behavior in them.
It is as though they experience me -- albeit unconsciously -- as having some kind of power over them, so their response is to attempt to exert power over me. Sometimes it can be playful or not-so-playful teasing, but often enough it is vicious to the point of ruthlessness.
I thought about the evening. He had been watching me dance attentively enough to replace the candle. And he must have been watching me continuously when I was speaking to the birthday boy’s friend. I had not handed out any flyers in nearly an hour at that point, so he must have been waiting to pounce....
I looked over to where he was standing. The bartender was giving him a bear hug.
At the end of the night, having polished off my beer, I blew a kiss to this poor, sad man. "I love you!" I said, almost sincerely.
I was kind of grateful for the incident ... In the past, when I have been the object of these kinds of negative projections, I have folded. I've accepted or apologized and taken it all on myself. “Oh I’m so sorry for being the horrible person you are telling me I am (but which, actually, I am not...).”
Or worse, I've found myself living out their projections... as if their perception of me suddenly became my reality, that I could not help but live out (like when a person calls you crazy, you just end up seeming more crazy as you try to insist you are not crazy).
But now, because this ridiculous man had attacked me so strangely and inappropriately, he had given me the chance not only to stand up against the projection, but to completely disprove it in my own actions and the reactions of others.
I grabbed my bag and skipped off to the subway -- laughing all the way.
The place was packed with dancers and musicians (some of whom had seen my solo show show the Sunday before), so there were a few discussions about it and I handed out flyers here and there to friends and friends of friends.
I also laid about 10 flyers on the counter near the bar (which is where people usually put promotional stuff), and three on the bar itself.
But most of the time, I was dancing along with everyone else. At one point, I picked up a votive candle and began dancing with it in my palm. Since the candle was little more than wick in oil, it was tricky to balance it perfectly to keep the flame from going out -- which it finally did.
I went to find a match, but a shortish young guy in a white button-down shirt gave me a freshly lit one. “Thank you!” I grinned, and returned to the floor.
About an hour later, a man from the table where I’d first taken the candle complimented me on my dancing and raved about how much they liked the woman who had performed professionally that night. He loved that, although she was “older,” she was truly ageless when she danced... The group was dumbfounded by her beauty and grace, because they did not know what to expect from a bellydance event (the guy I was talking to had met the birthday boy casually a few weeks before and agreed to swing by).
So I told them that this was the very topic I address in my solo show -- about how beautiful and empowering bellydance is -- that it isn't a dance of seduction (as is often portrayed) but of owning one's own strength, power and grace … They asked about my performance dates and I ran back to my bag to get some flyers and handed them to the guy and his friends.
Within seconds, the very guy who had given me the candle while I was dancing rushed up to me and barked, "I want you to stop handing out flyers! You put them all over the bar. You've been doing this all night, and you have to stop!" And he returned to the bar.
I thought about this for a minute... If I had been indiscriminately laying them on tables and forcing them on people I didn't know, then he might have a case. But I hadn't been. I was giving them only to people I knew, or people who had expressly asked for them.
I was not going to stand for being bullied and accused of doing something that I had not been doing.
So I strode up to Mr. Manager and said, "It was completely inappropriate for you to embarrass me in front of those people. I gave them the cards because they ASKED for them, and for no other reason. I have not been ‘handing them out all night.’ I have been giving them to friends only. You have no right to accuse me of doing something I wasn’t doing!! So FUCK YOU!"
I went back to my table and stuffed $40 in the billfold for a $30 check and went to the bathroom. I was in there for barely a minute when I heard a booming knock at the door.
When I got out, the manager huffed, "I want you to pay your check and leave!!"
"Excuse me??" I said.
"You are being very rude and are talking down to me and are using obscene language," he babbled, "and I want you to pay your check and leave!"
Then we went back and forth more about the flyers -- about whom I had given them to, when and why. "Well, I've removed all your flyers from the bar,” he pronounced, “They're torn up. Destroyed. Gone. They're in the trash. So pay your check and leave."
The waiter came back with my change. "Keep it," I mouthed, then turned to the manager. "I HAVE paid my check."
"Then get your things and get home safely."
"But.... " I added.
Now, even though I had planned to leave, now that this gentleman was digging in his heels and bullying me yet more, it was time for him to learn that my heels were longer and sharper.
"I am not ready to leave." I jutted my chin and went back to my table.
He bristled. “I want you to leave. So get home safely.”
"Well, I’m not going. So I guess you'll just have to call the police."
"OK!" He sniffed and went off to another area of the restaurant, presumably to call the police. I gathered my things and started making my goodbyes. But as I passed by the bar, I ran into a guy I'd been speaking to earlier who asked me to stay a little longer.
"I don't know," I grimaced, "This manager is kind of flipping out. He said he has called the police to have me thrown out."
"What?? Why?"
"For handing out flyers."
"But you know everyone here!"
"Yes.. I know. The guy's a nutcase."
"Oh come on.. the police aren't going to come. They have better things to do than indulge this fool."
And I realized, my friend was right. I wasn't being disorderly. He had no legitimate complaint against me. If the police were REALLY bored enough to show up, I would just say that the manager and I had had an affair a few weeks before, that he was bad in the sack and I had dumped him. And now he was getting his revenge.
But most likely, I knew, that would not be necessary. And it would have been kind of cruel on my part -- although not undeserved -- and I don’t like being cruel.
Anyway. It was clear he had no way to get rid of me. I knew it, and he knew it.
So when the manager finally strode up to me and said, "The police are on their way,” I responded, “Well then, I guess I'll just have to wait for them." And took off my coat.
Then I looked at him very level (or not so level since he was quite a bit shorter than me), and said, "You are a child and a fool. You need to learn how to pick your fights."
I tossed down my coat and my friend bought me a beer.
And then my friend said, "You know, I think maybe that guy likes you."
At first, this seemed quite crazy to me... but then I realized … maybe not....
This sort of thing has happened to me a lot... men find me attractive, but maybe not approachable. They assume I will reject them, or I am not the sort of woman they are usually attracted to, and so they get angry at themselves for their attraction.
And this brings out some very strange behavior in them.
It is as though they experience me -- albeit unconsciously -- as having some kind of power over them, so their response is to attempt to exert power over me. Sometimes it can be playful or not-so-playful teasing, but often enough it is vicious to the point of ruthlessness.
I thought about the evening. He had been watching me dance attentively enough to replace the candle. And he must have been watching me continuously when I was speaking to the birthday boy’s friend. I had not handed out any flyers in nearly an hour at that point, so he must have been waiting to pounce....
I looked over to where he was standing. The bartender was giving him a bear hug.
At the end of the night, having polished off my beer, I blew a kiss to this poor, sad man. "I love you!" I said, almost sincerely.
I was kind of grateful for the incident ... In the past, when I have been the object of these kinds of negative projections, I have folded. I've accepted or apologized and taken it all on myself. “Oh I’m so sorry for being the horrible person you are telling me I am (but which, actually, I am not...).”
Or worse, I've found myself living out their projections... as if their perception of me suddenly became my reality, that I could not help but live out (like when a person calls you crazy, you just end up seeming more crazy as you try to insist you are not crazy).
But now, because this ridiculous man had attacked me so strangely and inappropriately, he had given me the chance not only to stand up against the projection, but to completely disprove it in my own actions and the reactions of others.
I grabbed my bag and skipped off to the subway -- laughing all the way.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Tandava's Guide to the Zone--2011-12 Version--Part III: New Year's Day 7pm to 5:30am
Moving right along, here is the third installment of Twilight Zone episodes to be aired on to be aired on SyFy from 7pm New Year's Day through 5:30am January 2nd.
This list continues from Part I (New Year's Eve, 9:30 AM through midnight) and Part II (midnight New Year's Day through 7pm).
First is the short list including the ever-changing Time Top 10, my personal favorites, and other noteworthy episodes. (By the way, you can go to Time's list and vote for your own!)
So, the categories are:
(1) Episodes on the Time Top 10 List – These are the acknowledged classics – in red.
(2) My Personal Favorite Episodes – These are underrated gems with strong scripts and beautiful performances – in green.
(3) Episodes Worth Watching – These have flawed scripts or execution, but often have strong performances and/or ideas – in blue.
Unfortunately, some of my favorites which were in last year's marathon are missing from this one, such as "A Quality of Mercy," "Mirror Image," "The Changing of the Guard" and "Nothing in the Dark." These were replaced with less-stellar offerings such as "The Jeopardy Room, "Caesar and Me", "Uncle Simon" (ugh!) and "The Brain Center at Whipple's." But at least SyFy did include faves like "The Silence" and "The Sixteen-millimeter Shrine" which were not in the 2010-11 marathon.
And, as with last year, Part III still has many gems worth setting time aside for. The run from 7:00 PM through midnight is particularly chock-full of classics.
Enjoy – and happy 2012!!
My Favorites – Short List
(Click the time to jump to the episode description.)
7:00 PM – The Odyssey Of Flight 33
7:30 PM – Living Doll
8:00 PM – The Obsolete Man
8:30 PM – Eye Of The Beholder
9:00 PM – Time Enough At Last
10:00 PM – The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street
10:30 PM – To Serve Man
11:30 PM – Nightmare At 20,000 Feet
1:30 AM – Mr. Denton On Doomsday
4:30 AM – Long Live Walter Jameson
Full List – With Descriptions
7:00 PM – The Odyssey Of Flight 33 – A 707 picks up a freak tail wind and travels back in time. Run-of-the-mill by modern sci-fi standards, but notable for its apparently realistic cockpit dialogue created by Serling's aviation writer brother, Robert Serling.
7:30 PM – Living Doll – "My name is Talky Tina – and you'd better be nice to me!" Telly Savalas takes on June Foray's creepy voiced doll. This one gave me nightmares. #1 on the Time list.
8:00 PM – The Obsolete Man – The superb Burgess Meredith is back to his book-loving ways, this time as a librarian in a dystopic totalitarian future, where both he and his books are declared obsolete.
8:30 PM – Eye Of The Beholder – A classic (#9 on the Time list) about the relativity of beauty, the lengths we will go to be beautiful – or to at least conform – and the dangers of conformity. Note: the girl at the end (Donna Douglas, of Beverly Hillbillies) is a different actress than the one under the bandages (Maxine Stuart), but she speaks in her own voice – doing a very good impression of Stuart!
9:00 PM – Time Enough At Last – Burgess Meredith at his lovable best as a devoted bookworm constantly thwarted by his boss, wife, and everyone else – until a touch of armageddon gives him new lease on life. #10 on the Time list.
9:30 PM – A Stop At Willoughby – Beleagured exec finds himself in his childhood hometown. Similar to "Walking Distance" but trades insight for sentiment. Some people really like this one; I can do without it.
10:0 PM – The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street – #4 on the Time list. The text of one is included in grade-school anthologies. Beautifully written masterpiece about fearing thy neighbor. The brilliant Claude Akins is considered the lead, though it is a true ensemble piece. Don’t miss it.
10:30 PM – To Serve Man – Aliens come to earth offering solutions to all the world's woes; their trouble-entendre mission: "To serve man." An undisputed classic, #8 on the Time list.
11:00 PM – Will The Real Martian Please Stand Up – This was voted 8.5 on the IMDB, but I think it’s dopey and ridiculous. Bus passengers are stranded at a diner – but there is one too many. Oh, and rumor has it that a spacecraft crashed nearby. Give me a break.
11:30 PM – Nightmare At 20,000 Feet – "There's a man out on the wing!!" Shatner at his whiteknuckle best. #6 on the Time list.
12:00 AM – The Shelter – "Maple Street" meets the lazy grasshopper. The industrious ant of this tale has built a bomb shelter for his (and ONLY his) family, and his neighbors scoff – until there is an emergency... Bloated prose and one-dimensional characters make this a must-miss.
12:30 AM – Mr. Bevis – Loser gets all he desires (money, nice apartment), only to learn he can’t be his true whackadoo self and keep up appearances. Moral: Enjoy who you are.
1:30 AM – Mr. Denton On Doomsday – Touching old west tale about top-gunslinger-turned-town-drunk finding redemption. Fine performances by Dan Duryea, Martin Landau and Doug McClure.
1:30 AM – The Fever – Well-acted but ultimately hokey morality play about gambling addiction.
2:00 AM – Nightmare As A Child – Freaky, annoying brat spooks schoolteacher. Or does the marm have more to fear? Find out, if you can stay awake through this snoozer. Features TZ's favorite female child actress Suzanne Cupito (aka Dallas' Morgan Brittany); also featured in "Caesar and Me" 1:30 PM 12/31).
2:30 AM – What's In The Box – Lame and ridiculous episode about a couple’s bickering leading to accidental murder and capital punishment. Freaky TV predicts it all. There, now you don’t have to watch it and aren’t you glad?
3:00 AM – The Prime Mover – Compulsive gambler cajoles his telekinetically-enabled pal (an enjoyable Buddy Ebsen) into to helping him cheat Vegas. Doesn't work out too well, but could be worse. Moral: Be happy with what you have; know when to quit.
3:30 AM – Mr. Garrity And The Graves – A more humorous take on the “value of mortality” theme explored in "Long Live Walter Jameson," "Escape Clause," and others; add to this "be careful what you wish for” of "A Short Drink from a Certain Fountain," "A Nice Place to Visit," etc.
4:00 AM – Perchance To Dream – Neat psychodrama with some freaky felinesque dream sequences. Not bad; not great.
4:30 AM – Long Live Walter Jameson – TZ's most successful working of the "morality of mortality" theme features fine performances, a strong script and a touch of righteous revenge.
5:00 AM – What You Need – Magical peddler who can give people exactly "what they need" moments before they need it is menaced by a small-time thug. Comeuppance awaits the thug, and the peddler reveals a refreshing hint of cold-bloodedness, uncharacteristic of the Zone. Mixed feelings about this one mostly due to the script's weak dialogue. Based on a superior short story by Lewis Padgett.
This list continues from Part I (New Year's Eve, 9:30 AM through midnight) and Part II (midnight New Year's Day through 7pm).
First is the short list including the ever-changing Time Top 10, my personal favorites, and other noteworthy episodes. (By the way, you can go to Time's list and vote for your own!)
So, the categories are:
(1) Episodes on the Time Top 10 List – These are the acknowledged classics – in red.
(2) My Personal Favorite Episodes – These are underrated gems with strong scripts and beautiful performances – in green.
(3) Episodes Worth Watching – These have flawed scripts or execution, but often have strong performances and/or ideas – in blue.
Unfortunately, some of my favorites which were in last year's marathon are missing from this one, such as "A Quality of Mercy," "Mirror Image," "The Changing of the Guard" and "Nothing in the Dark." These were replaced with less-stellar offerings such as "The Jeopardy Room, "Caesar and Me", "Uncle Simon" (ugh!) and "The Brain Center at Whipple's." But at least SyFy did include faves like "The Silence" and "The Sixteen-millimeter Shrine" which were not in the 2010-11 marathon.
And, as with last year, Part III still has many gems worth setting time aside for. The run from 7:00 PM through midnight is particularly chock-full of classics.
Enjoy – and happy 2012!!
My Favorites – Short List
(Click the time to jump to the episode description.)
7:00 PM – The Odyssey Of Flight 33
7:30 PM – Living Doll
8:00 PM – The Obsolete Man
8:30 PM – Eye Of The Beholder
9:00 PM – Time Enough At Last
10:00 PM – The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street
10:30 PM – To Serve Man
11:30 PM – Nightmare At 20,000 Feet
1:30 AM – Mr. Denton On Doomsday
4:30 AM – Long Live Walter Jameson
Full List – With Descriptions
7:00 PM – The Odyssey Of Flight 33 – A 707 picks up a freak tail wind and travels back in time. Run-of-the-mill by modern sci-fi standards, but notable for its apparently realistic cockpit dialogue created by Serling's aviation writer brother, Robert Serling.
7:30 PM – Living Doll – "My name is Talky Tina – and you'd better be nice to me!" Telly Savalas takes on June Foray's creepy voiced doll. This one gave me nightmares. #1 on the Time list.
8:00 PM – The Obsolete Man – The superb Burgess Meredith is back to his book-loving ways, this time as a librarian in a dystopic totalitarian future, where both he and his books are declared obsolete.
8:30 PM – Eye Of The Beholder – A classic (#9 on the Time list) about the relativity of beauty, the lengths we will go to be beautiful – or to at least conform – and the dangers of conformity. Note: the girl at the end (Donna Douglas, of Beverly Hillbillies) is a different actress than the one under the bandages (Maxine Stuart), but she speaks in her own voice – doing a very good impression of Stuart!
9:00 PM – Time Enough At Last – Burgess Meredith at his lovable best as a devoted bookworm constantly thwarted by his boss, wife, and everyone else – until a touch of armageddon gives him new lease on life. #10 on the Time list.
9:30 PM – A Stop At Willoughby – Beleagured exec finds himself in his childhood hometown. Similar to "Walking Distance" but trades insight for sentiment. Some people really like this one; I can do without it.
10:0 PM – The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street – #4 on the Time list. The text of one is included in grade-school anthologies. Beautifully written masterpiece about fearing thy neighbor. The brilliant Claude Akins is considered the lead, though it is a true ensemble piece. Don’t miss it.
10:30 PM – To Serve Man – Aliens come to earth offering solutions to all the world's woes; their trouble-entendre mission: "To serve man." An undisputed classic, #8 on the Time list.
11:00 PM – Will The Real Martian Please Stand Up – This was voted 8.5 on the IMDB, but I think it’s dopey and ridiculous. Bus passengers are stranded at a diner – but there is one too many. Oh, and rumor has it that a spacecraft crashed nearby. Give me a break.
11:30 PM – Nightmare At 20,000 Feet – "There's a man out on the wing!!" Shatner at his whiteknuckle best. #6 on the Time list.
12:00 AM – The Shelter – "Maple Street" meets the lazy grasshopper. The industrious ant of this tale has built a bomb shelter for his (and ONLY his) family, and his neighbors scoff – until there is an emergency... Bloated prose and one-dimensional characters make this a must-miss.
12:30 AM – Mr. Bevis – Loser gets all he desires (money, nice apartment), only to learn he can’t be his true whackadoo self and keep up appearances. Moral: Enjoy who you are.
1:30 AM – Mr. Denton On Doomsday – Touching old west tale about top-gunslinger-turned-town-drunk finding redemption. Fine performances by Dan Duryea, Martin Landau and Doug McClure.
1:30 AM – The Fever – Well-acted but ultimately hokey morality play about gambling addiction.
2:00 AM – Nightmare As A Child – Freaky, annoying brat spooks schoolteacher. Or does the marm have more to fear? Find out, if you can stay awake through this snoozer. Features TZ's favorite female child actress Suzanne Cupito (aka Dallas' Morgan Brittany); also featured in "Caesar and Me" 1:30 PM 12/31).
2:30 AM – What's In The Box – Lame and ridiculous episode about a couple’s bickering leading to accidental murder and capital punishment. Freaky TV predicts it all. There, now you don’t have to watch it and aren’t you glad?
3:00 AM – The Prime Mover – Compulsive gambler cajoles his telekinetically-enabled pal (an enjoyable Buddy Ebsen) into to helping him cheat Vegas. Doesn't work out too well, but could be worse. Moral: Be happy with what you have; know when to quit.
3:30 AM – Mr. Garrity And The Graves – A more humorous take on the “value of mortality” theme explored in "Long Live Walter Jameson," "Escape Clause," and others; add to this "be careful what you wish for” of "A Short Drink from a Certain Fountain," "A Nice Place to Visit," etc.
4:00 AM – Perchance To Dream – Neat psychodrama with some freaky felinesque dream sequences. Not bad; not great.
4:30 AM – Long Live Walter Jameson – TZ's most successful working of the "morality of mortality" theme features fine performances, a strong script and a touch of righteous revenge.
5:00 AM – What You Need – Magical peddler who can give people exactly "what they need" moments before they need it is menaced by a small-time thug. Comeuppance awaits the thug, and the peddler reveals a refreshing hint of cold-bloodedness, uncharacteristic of the Zone. Mixed feelings about this one mostly due to the script's weak dialogue. Based on a superior short story by Lewis Padgett.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Tandava's Guide to the Zone--2011-12 Version--Part II: New Year's Day Midnight to 7pm
Continuing the list from yesterday's entry, below is a complete list of Twilight Zone episodes to be aired on SyFy from midnight New Year's Day through 7pm.
A third entry will follow covering 7pm through 5:30am Sunday morning.
First is the short list including the Time Top 10, my personal favorites, and other noteworthy episodes.
So, the categories are:
(1) Episodes on the Time Top 10 List – These are the acknowledged classics – in red.
(2) My Personal Favorite Episodes – These are underrated gems with strong scripts and beautiful performances – in green.
(3) Episodes Worth Watching – These have flawed scripts or execution, but often have strong performances and/or ideas – in blue.
My Favorites – Short List
(Click the time to jump to the episode description.)
12:00 AM – The Midnight Sun
12:30 AM – People Are Alike All Over
1:00 AM – Walking Distance
2:00 AM – Two
3:00 AM – A World Of His Own
4:00 AM – The Lonely
5:00 AM – A Thing About Machines
6:00 AM – The Sixteen-millimeter Shrine
7:00 AM – Judgment Night
11:00 AM – King Nine Will Not Return
12:00 PM – The Grave
12:30 PM – Death's-Head Revisited
1:00 PM – One For The Angels
2:00 PM – It's A Good Life
3:00 PM – The Hitch-hiker
3:30 PM – The Dummy
4:30 PM – The Invaders
5:30PM – The Midnight Sun
6:00 PM – The Masks
Full List – With Descriptions
12:00 AM – The Midnight Sun – Earth has been knocked off its orbit and is gradually approaching the sun. Thermometers pop, a painting melts off its canvas (this is actually a painted wax tablet on a hot plate!), but this apocalyptic tale is most interesting for its relationships – an excellent script, beautifully acted.
12:30 AM – People Are Alike All Over – Astronaut Roddy McDowall crashes on populous Mars, and consoles his fears with the thought that Martians (who include the radiant Susan Oliver) and humans must be "alike" ...
1:00 AM – Walking Distance – I LOVE this episode, a classic (#2 on the Time list) about a frustrated exec who, longing for his boyhood days, visits his hometown – only to find himself a grown-up amidst his own childhood. Insightful lesson about valuing the present and not romanticizing the past.
1:30 AM – I Shot An Arrow Into The Air – Three astronauts survive a crash on an asteroid (where the atmosphere and gravity are the same as on Earth, but no one notices this). Limited provisions stir bloodthirsty behavior. Yes, Rod, people in crisis are just no darned good.
2:00 AM – Two – Apocalypse survivors Charles Bronson and Elizabeth Montgomery approach each other warily in this sparsely written, beautifully acted episode.
2:30 AM – Uncle Simon – Two despicable people in a screeching, unredeemable story. Sadistic eponymous Uncle berates greedy, gold-digging niece caretaker into an "accidental" (and fatal) lapse in care. Twist ending? Yeah, but who cares. By the time it's over you'll want to twist off your head. Geeks may get a kick out of the brief cameo of Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot; the ambulatory prop also appears on "The Brain Center at Whipple's" (6:30 AM 1/1) and in miniature in "One for the Angels" (1:00 PM 1/1).
3:00 AM – A World Of His Own – Sweet story about the reality of reality features the only time Serling interacts with his characters.
3:30 AM – Hocus-Pocus and Frisby – A braggart gas station attendant's tales of prowess are believed by some seriously gullible aliens who want to take him home as a specimen of Earth's finest.
4:00 AM – The Lonely – Convict Jack Warden spends lonely days on an asteroid until his supply ship pal brings him a realistic robot – in the ethereally beautiful form of a young Jean Marsh (best known as Rose from Upstairs, Downstairs). A touching, romantic story. Features Ted Knight as an obnoxious crew member.
4:30 AM – A Short Drink From A Certain Fountain – Here we go again with the be-careful-what-you-wish-for theme. Rich geezer wants to keep up with his greedy vain young wife; comeuppance awaits them both.
5:00 AM – A Thing About Machines – One of my all-time faves about a guy who beats up on his machines – which, in 1960, included his typewriter, electric razor, TV and car – and they gang up to have their revenge. The dawn of Skynet... ("Now, why don’t you get out of here, Finchley!!")
5:30 AM – The Arrival – Mystery plane lands itself at airport. Could it all just be an illusion? Ummm... maybe...
6:00 AM – The Sixteen-millimeter Shrine – Luminous Ida Lupino as a reclusive aging movie star, immersed in the films of her youth. Sunset Boulevard, served up Zone-style with a bittersweet dose of wish-fulfillment. Score is by Sunset Boulevard's composer/conductor Franz Waxman. Catch Lupino's deft direction in "The Masks" at 6:00PM.
6:30 AM – The Brain Center At Whipple's – CEO Whipple automates manufacturing with low-maintenance machines. Does he understand "the value of a man"? Go tell it to Skynet. Features the second of three cameos of Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot in the TZ; others include "Uncle Simon" (2:30 AM 1/1) and "One for the Angels" (1:00 PM 1/1).
7:00 AM – Judgment Night – Nehemiah Persoff just knows a nearby U-boat will blast his passenger steamer. But no one one board will believe him! (And exactly how does he know anyway...?) Excellent performances, great ending and a sweet cameo by The Avengers' Patrick MacNee
7:30 AM – The Last Rights Of Jeff Myrtlebank – Small-town good ol' boy James Best wakes up at his own funeral, and seems much improved by the experience! Cute, folksy tale.
8:00 AM – The Four Of Us Are Dying – Guy who can change his face learns he can’t change his scumbag nature.
8:30 AM – The Jeopardy Room – Defecting ex-KGB Martin Landau has three hours to find the bomb in his hotel room planted by his former Commissar, sniper-rifle-wielding John van Dreelen: If he tries to leave, he gets shot; if he doesn't find the bomb, it goes off (or is he supposed to get shot then, too?). Poor writing, overwrought direction and too many plot holes make this episode unsalvageable even by Landau's typically fine acting.
9:00 AM – Black Leather Jackets – Evil leather-clad alien (dressed this way to "blend") falls for local Earth girl in this poor man's Avatar.
9:30 AM – A Piano In The House – Enchanted ivories reveal uncomfortable secrets; akin to "What's in the Box" (2:30 AM 1/1) and "A Most Unusual Camera" (6:30 PM 12/31), and slightly better than either.
10:00 AM – A Nice Place To Visit – Another be-careful-what-you-wish-for morality tale about the true nature of Heaven and Hell. In 1960 it might not have been painfully predictable...
10:30 AM – Twenty-Two – Recovering dancer is troubled by prescient dreams. "Room for one more, honey!" Shrill performances, flat writing. Mediocre tale best suited to Internet urban myth.
11:00 AM – King Nine Will Not Return – WWII B-25 Captain Robert Cummings finds himself stranded in the desert with only the carcass of his King Nine, lost 17 years before. Is it a hallucination? Time travel? Both? The de rigueur twist ending is now a TZ cliché, but still worth watching for a strong script and Cummings' excellent performance.
11:30 AM – The 7th Is Made Up Of Phantoms – Spooked National Guard tank crew gets drafted into Custer's 7th Cavalry. Big whoop.
12:00 PM – The Grave – Spooky old west tale of a dare gone bad, featuring James Best, Lee Van Cleef and Lee Marvin. Also recycled on the internet.
12:30 PM – Death's-Head Revisited – Former Nazi captain's trot down memory lane via Dachau brings him to some unexpected denizens. Top-notch performances by Joseph Schildkraut and Oscar Beregi Jr.
1:00 PM – One For The Angels – One of TZ's more successful dark comedies features Ed Wynn as a fast-talking salesman who must use his skills to save a child's life. Features the third of three cameos of Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot (miniature, in this case) in the TZ; others include "Uncle Simon" (2:30 AM 1/1) and "The Brain Center at Whipple's" (6:30 AM 1/1).
1:30 PM – The Old Man In The Cave – Confused story set in a post-apocalyptic future of 1974 (!!!). Town listens to the “old man” until soldiers tell them not to be superstitious – and it doesn’t work out well for anyone. What’s the message? Don’t trust your own perceptions? Ugh. Only worth watching for a young James Coburn.
2:00 PM – It's A Good Life – One of the most famous episodes (#3 on the Time list) featuring little Billy Mumy as a terrifying child who can create and destroy at will. The brilliant Cloris Leachman is his petrified mother. ("That’s a good thing you did… A real good thing… Now please wish it into the cornfield!").
2:30 PM – Dead Man's Shoes – Bum dons dead gangster's wing-tips and finds himself stepping into the thug's revenge-thirsty ex-life. You might feel bad for the bum if you find yourself caring about anything in this one.
3:00 PM – The Hitch-hiker – A driver keeps seeing the same hitch-hiker thumbing a ride as she heads west…. A deliciously Hitchcockian morality/mortality play about fear and acceptance of the inevitable. #5 on the Time list.
3:30 PM – The Dummy – Cliff Robertson as a troubled ventriloquist whose creepy dummy will simply not stay in the box.
4:00 PM – Third From The Sun – Trigger-happy world leaders have their finger on the button! Doomsday is near! Time for a select few to secretly gather their families to escape to a nearby planet. Hm... now what planet would that be..?
4:30 PM – The Invaders – Agnes Moorehead's virtuoso 25-minute wordless monologue; riveting with a slick twist at the end. #7 on the Time list.
5:00 PM – The Bewitchin' Pool – Worst. Episode. Ever. Even To Kill a Mockingbird's Oscar-nominated Mary Badham couldn't save this dismal excuse for a story. Spoiled brats escape manipulative divorcing parents by finding their way to SuperGrandma via an enchanted pool. Now, if Grandma dumped the tots in an oven, then we might have a story....
5:30 PM – The Midnight Sun – [Not sure if this is a schedule error; the episode is also listed at 12:00 AM.]
6:00 PM – The Masks – One of the GREAT underrated episodes, and the only TZ episode to be directed by a woman, Ida Lupino (she also stars in “The Sixteen-Millimeter Shrine” 6:00 AM 1/1 ). A crusty millionaire geezer tells his greedy family he will die before Mardi Gras is over – but they must wear freaky custom masks through the evening if they want to claim their inheritance. Gives the term "know thyself" new meaning....
6:30 PM – The Howling Man – A visitor to a monastery is disturbed to find the monks have a screaming guy locked up. Well, they must have a good reason… A lot of people like this one. I think it’s pretty meh. Features John Carradine as a monk.
A third entry will follow covering 7pm through 5:30am Sunday morning.
First is the short list including the Time Top 10, my personal favorites, and other noteworthy episodes.
So, the categories are:
(1) Episodes on the Time Top 10 List – These are the acknowledged classics – in red.
(2) My Personal Favorite Episodes – These are underrated gems with strong scripts and beautiful performances – in green.
(3) Episodes Worth Watching – These have flawed scripts or execution, but often have strong performances and/or ideas – in blue.
My Favorites – Short List
(Click the time to jump to the episode description.)
12:00 AM – The Midnight Sun
12:30 AM – People Are Alike All Over
1:00 AM – Walking Distance
2:00 AM – Two
3:00 AM – A World Of His Own
4:00 AM – The Lonely
5:00 AM – A Thing About Machines
6:00 AM – The Sixteen-millimeter Shrine
7:00 AM – Judgment Night
11:00 AM – King Nine Will Not Return
12:00 PM – The Grave
12:30 PM – Death's-Head Revisited
1:00 PM – One For The Angels
2:00 PM – It's A Good Life
3:00 PM – The Hitch-hiker
3:30 PM – The Dummy
4:30 PM – The Invaders
5:30PM – The Midnight Sun
6:00 PM – The Masks
Full List – With Descriptions
12:00 AM – The Midnight Sun – Earth has been knocked off its orbit and is gradually approaching the sun. Thermometers pop, a painting melts off its canvas (this is actually a painted wax tablet on a hot plate!), but this apocalyptic tale is most interesting for its relationships – an excellent script, beautifully acted.
12:30 AM – People Are Alike All Over – Astronaut Roddy McDowall crashes on populous Mars, and consoles his fears with the thought that Martians (who include the radiant Susan Oliver) and humans must be "alike" ...
1:00 AM – Walking Distance – I LOVE this episode, a classic (#2 on the Time list) about a frustrated exec who, longing for his boyhood days, visits his hometown – only to find himself a grown-up amidst his own childhood. Insightful lesson about valuing the present and not romanticizing the past.
1:30 AM – I Shot An Arrow Into The Air – Three astronauts survive a crash on an asteroid (where the atmosphere and gravity are the same as on Earth, but no one notices this). Limited provisions stir bloodthirsty behavior. Yes, Rod, people in crisis are just no darned good.
2:00 AM – Two – Apocalypse survivors Charles Bronson and Elizabeth Montgomery approach each other warily in this sparsely written, beautifully acted episode.
2:30 AM – Uncle Simon – Two despicable people in a screeching, unredeemable story. Sadistic eponymous Uncle berates greedy, gold-digging niece caretaker into an "accidental" (and fatal) lapse in care. Twist ending? Yeah, but who cares. By the time it's over you'll want to twist off your head. Geeks may get a kick out of the brief cameo of Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot; the ambulatory prop also appears on "The Brain Center at Whipple's" (6:30 AM 1/1) and in miniature in "One for the Angels" (1:00 PM 1/1).
3:00 AM – A World Of His Own – Sweet story about the reality of reality features the only time Serling interacts with his characters.
3:30 AM – Hocus-Pocus and Frisby – A braggart gas station attendant's tales of prowess are believed by some seriously gullible aliens who want to take him home as a specimen of Earth's finest.
4:00 AM – The Lonely – Convict Jack Warden spends lonely days on an asteroid until his supply ship pal brings him a realistic robot – in the ethereally beautiful form of a young Jean Marsh (best known as Rose from Upstairs, Downstairs). A touching, romantic story. Features Ted Knight as an obnoxious crew member.
4:30 AM – A Short Drink From A Certain Fountain – Here we go again with the be-careful-what-you-wish-for theme. Rich geezer wants to keep up with his greedy vain young wife; comeuppance awaits them both.
5:00 AM – A Thing About Machines – One of my all-time faves about a guy who beats up on his machines – which, in 1960, included his typewriter, electric razor, TV and car – and they gang up to have their revenge. The dawn of Skynet... ("Now, why don’t you get out of here, Finchley!!")
5:30 AM – The Arrival – Mystery plane lands itself at airport. Could it all just be an illusion? Ummm... maybe...
6:00 AM – The Sixteen-millimeter Shrine – Luminous Ida Lupino as a reclusive aging movie star, immersed in the films of her youth. Sunset Boulevard, served up Zone-style with a bittersweet dose of wish-fulfillment. Score is by Sunset Boulevard's composer/conductor Franz Waxman. Catch Lupino's deft direction in "The Masks" at 6:00PM.
6:30 AM – The Brain Center At Whipple's – CEO Whipple automates manufacturing with low-maintenance machines. Does he understand "the value of a man"? Go tell it to Skynet. Features the second of three cameos of Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot in the TZ; others include "Uncle Simon" (2:30 AM 1/1) and "One for the Angels" (1:00 PM 1/1).
7:00 AM – Judgment Night – Nehemiah Persoff just knows a nearby U-boat will blast his passenger steamer. But no one one board will believe him! (And exactly how does he know anyway...?) Excellent performances, great ending and a sweet cameo by The Avengers' Patrick MacNee
7:30 AM – The Last Rights Of Jeff Myrtlebank – Small-town good ol' boy James Best wakes up at his own funeral, and seems much improved by the experience! Cute, folksy tale.
8:00 AM – The Four Of Us Are Dying – Guy who can change his face learns he can’t change his scumbag nature.
8:30 AM – The Jeopardy Room – Defecting ex-KGB Martin Landau has three hours to find the bomb in his hotel room planted by his former Commissar, sniper-rifle-wielding John van Dreelen: If he tries to leave, he gets shot; if he doesn't find the bomb, it goes off (or is he supposed to get shot then, too?). Poor writing, overwrought direction and too many plot holes make this episode unsalvageable even by Landau's typically fine acting.
9:00 AM – Black Leather Jackets – Evil leather-clad alien (dressed this way to "blend") falls for local Earth girl in this poor man's Avatar.
9:30 AM – A Piano In The House – Enchanted ivories reveal uncomfortable secrets; akin to "What's in the Box" (2:30 AM 1/1) and "A Most Unusual Camera" (6:30 PM 12/31), and slightly better than either.
10:00 AM – A Nice Place To Visit – Another be-careful-what-you-wish-for morality tale about the true nature of Heaven and Hell. In 1960 it might not have been painfully predictable...
10:30 AM – Twenty-Two – Recovering dancer is troubled by prescient dreams. "Room for one more, honey!" Shrill performances, flat writing. Mediocre tale best suited to Internet urban myth.
11:00 AM – King Nine Will Not Return – WWII B-25 Captain Robert Cummings finds himself stranded in the desert with only the carcass of his King Nine, lost 17 years before. Is it a hallucination? Time travel? Both? The de rigueur twist ending is now a TZ cliché, but still worth watching for a strong script and Cummings' excellent performance.
11:30 AM – The 7th Is Made Up Of Phantoms – Spooked National Guard tank crew gets drafted into Custer's 7th Cavalry. Big whoop.
12:00 PM – The Grave – Spooky old west tale of a dare gone bad, featuring James Best, Lee Van Cleef and Lee Marvin. Also recycled on the internet.
12:30 PM – Death's-Head Revisited – Former Nazi captain's trot down memory lane via Dachau brings him to some unexpected denizens. Top-notch performances by Joseph Schildkraut and Oscar Beregi Jr.
1:00 PM – One For The Angels – One of TZ's more successful dark comedies features Ed Wynn as a fast-talking salesman who must use his skills to save a child's life. Features the third of three cameos of Forbidden Planet's Robby the Robot (miniature, in this case) in the TZ; others include "Uncle Simon" (2:30 AM 1/1) and "The Brain Center at Whipple's" (6:30 AM 1/1).
1:30 PM – The Old Man In The Cave – Confused story set in a post-apocalyptic future of 1974 (!!!). Town listens to the “old man” until soldiers tell them not to be superstitious – and it doesn’t work out well for anyone. What’s the message? Don’t trust your own perceptions? Ugh. Only worth watching for a young James Coburn.
2:00 PM – It's A Good Life – One of the most famous episodes (#3 on the Time list) featuring little Billy Mumy as a terrifying child who can create and destroy at will. The brilliant Cloris Leachman is his petrified mother. ("That’s a good thing you did… A real good thing… Now please wish it into the cornfield!").
2:30 PM – Dead Man's Shoes – Bum dons dead gangster's wing-tips and finds himself stepping into the thug's revenge-thirsty ex-life. You might feel bad for the bum if you find yourself caring about anything in this one.
3:00 PM – The Hitch-hiker – A driver keeps seeing the same hitch-hiker thumbing a ride as she heads west…. A deliciously Hitchcockian morality/mortality play about fear and acceptance of the inevitable. #5 on the Time list.
3:30 PM – The Dummy – Cliff Robertson as a troubled ventriloquist whose creepy dummy will simply not stay in the box.
4:00 PM – Third From The Sun – Trigger-happy world leaders have their finger on the button! Doomsday is near! Time for a select few to secretly gather their families to escape to a nearby planet. Hm... now what planet would that be..?
4:30 PM – The Invaders – Agnes Moorehead's virtuoso 25-minute wordless monologue; riveting with a slick twist at the end. #7 on the Time list.
5:00 PM – The Bewitchin' Pool – Worst. Episode. Ever. Even To Kill a Mockingbird's Oscar-nominated Mary Badham couldn't save this dismal excuse for a story. Spoiled brats escape manipulative divorcing parents by finding their way to SuperGrandma via an enchanted pool. Now, if Grandma dumped the tots in an oven, then we might have a story....
5:30 PM – The Midnight Sun – [Not sure if this is a schedule error; the episode is also listed at 12:00 AM.]
6:00 PM – The Masks – One of the GREAT underrated episodes, and the only TZ episode to be directed by a woman, Ida Lupino (she also stars in “The Sixteen-Millimeter Shrine” 6:00 AM 1/1 ). A crusty millionaire geezer tells his greedy family he will die before Mardi Gras is over – but they must wear freaky custom masks through the evening if they want to claim their inheritance. Gives the term "know thyself" new meaning....
6:30 PM – The Howling Man – A visitor to a monastery is disturbed to find the monks have a screaming guy locked up. Well, they must have a good reason… A lot of people like this one. I think it’s pretty meh. Features John Carradine as a monk.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Tandava's Guide to the Zone--2011-12 Version--Part I: New Year's Eve
Welcome back to The Zone!
Once again this New Year's Eve corks will fly and balls will drop, and we will all get a chance to spend some time in The Zone (at least those of us with basic cable...).
This year, SyFy (formerly the Science Fiction Channel, or SciFi) will air 81 episodes for its New Year's Twilight Zone marathon (down from 88 last year), starting 9am on 12/31 and ending at 5:30am on 1/2. So that's a lot of Serling for your dollar... but how do you tell the quality from the clunkers?
Unfortunately, SyFy is again not airing any of the beautiful hour-long episodes from Season 4, but there are still classics aplenty among the half-hour episodes. Just like last year, all ten of Time Magazine's Top Twilight Zone Episodes will be featured (they are in red, and alas there are none on New Year's Eve...), along with some lesser known beauties like "The Masks" (6:00 AM 1/1) and "In Praise of Pip" (9:30 AM 12/31), (in green), and finally a few that are not perfect, but have notable performances (in blue).
So what follows here is a short list of my favorite episodes which will be aired on Friday, December 31st, linked to a full list of all episodes, with brief descriptions and hopefully not too many spoilers. Celebrity names and other items of interest are bolded and linked.
In a few days, I'll post a rundown of episodes to be aired from 1/1 through the morning of 1/2.
Happy Zoning!
My Favorites – Short List
(Click the time to jump to the episode description.)
9:30 AM – In Praise Of Pip
10:30 AM – And When The Sky Was Opened
Full List – With Descriptions
9:00 AM – Escape Clause – I only like this one because I like David Wayne, but it’s not a great episode, just a grim morality play about the value of mortality. *Yawn!*
9:30 AM – In Praise Of Pip – I LOVE this episode. I REALLY love this episode (and did I mention I love this episode?). Jack Klugman delivers a top-notch, tragic performance as a dying no-good trying to do right by his serviceman son, Pip (a much less fearsome Billy Mumy). Sweet, sad magical ending.
10:00 AM – Ring-a-Ding Girl – Medium episode about movie star returning to her home town and throwing a “celebrate me” party. Or is she? Even though it’s not great, I always find myself watching this one all the way through.
10:30 AM – And When The Sky Was Opened – Well played, creepy episode about astronauts returning to earth… or did they? Or were they ever here? Or were you?? TZ makes us question our grasp of reality.
11:00 AM – The Silence – Tense, beautifully acted study in interpersonal dynamics and irony. Based loosely on Chekhov's The Bet, there is no supernatural hocus-pocus in this one. And there is no need for any.
11:30 AM – The Hunt – This mediocre folksy tale by The Waltons creator Earl Hamner Jr. has been recycled as internet glurge. Guy and dog have died and are walking along the road to heaven. Guy at pearly gate says, “No dogs allowed.” Guy says, “I ain’t going nowhere without my hound…” Sheesh.
12:00 PM – I Am the Night–Color Me Black – Murderous bigotry, hatred and fear are bad things. OK. We get it.
12:30 PM – The Rip Van Winkle Caper – It's Treasure of the Sierra Madre with suspended animation and blah writing. Good performances and a fun twist at the end make it sort of worth watching.
1:00 PM – Queen Of The Nile – Dopey episode about life-sucking millennia-old Egyptian queen. Blah blah blah. Skip it. "Long Live Walter Jameson" (4:30 AM 1/1) handles the material much more skillfully.
1:30 PM – Caesar and Me – Satan-spawn dummy drives hapless ventriloquist Jackie Cooper to a life of crime – matched in evilness only by tormenting then-child actress Morgan Brittany (later of Dallas fame). The same material is handled much better in "The Dummy" (3:30 PM 1/1).
2:00 PM – Probe 7 Over and Out – Stranded astronaut Richard Basehart, meets hostile alien female on deserted planet. She hurls rocks at him. Or maybe it's just foreplay. Now, what shall we call this place...? The same story is better told in "Two" (2:00 AM 1/1).
2:30 PM – Mr. Dingle, The Strong – Loud-mouthed salesman pisses away alien gifts on trivial feats. Worth watching for an adorable Burgess Meredith and amusing (and very young) Don Rickles.
3:00 PM – A Kind Of Stopwatch – Blabbering bore gets comeuppance via magical timepiece. Even The Girl, the Gold Watch and Everything was better than this turkey.
3:30 PM – The Little People – Ego and physical relativity clash in this memorable (though mediocre) episode, which has been lampooned in The Simpsons, South Park, and Futurama. Good performance by Claude Akins.
4:00 PM – A Hundred Yards Over The Rim – Underrated episode featuring a very young Cliff Robertson as a pioneer dad who will go yards, miles and years to heal his ailing son.
4:30 PM – The After Hours – Stunning Anne Francis finds herself wandering the non-existent floors of a creepy department store. (Wait... is that mannequin watching me??)
5:00 PM – Little Girl Lost – Little girl has slipped into another dimension. Can her parents and their conveniently present physicist pal rescue her before the portal closes forever? Decent script but bland acting. Tune in for the final 10 minutes for all you need to know.
5:30 PM – A Game Of Pool – Taut two-person drama about winning and losing, and what's really important in the game of life. Fine performances by Jack Klugman and Jonathan Winters. Not crazy about the ending; the real (and better) ending was done in the 80s TZ version.
6:00 PM – Long Distance Call – Creepy dead grandma wants her favorite grandson to be with her forever, and conveys her wishes via a toy phone. (Now if only Billy Mumy – TZ's favorite child actor – could wish her into the cornfield!) Nice performance by Philip Abbott as the kid's dad.
6:30 PM – A Most Unusual Camera – Lame-assed episode about three greedy morons undone by a magic camera. Hokey, ridiculous, predictable ending. Skip it.
7:00 PM – Stopover In A Quiet Town – At least it was quiet until this nattering couple woke up in a strange house with no memory of how they got there, and no one to ask where they are, or why the grass is made of papier-mâché. And if they'd shut up for two seconds, we just might care....
7:30 PM – Number Twelve Looks Just Like You – Dystopic utopia where everyone is beautifully identical and lifts their pretty mugs with a glass of Instant Smile. Mediocre script saved by Collin Wilcox's terrific performance.
8:00 PM – A Penny For Your Thoughts – Not a classic, but one of my favorites, featuring a young Dick York (the first Darren from Bewitched.)
8:30 PM – I Sing The Body Electric – Sweet story about a robot nanny lovingly bonding with tots.
9:00 PM – Night Call – Originally called "Sorry Right Number," this careful-what-you-wish-for tale features calls from beyond and a beautiful performance by Gladys Cooper. It has also been recycled as internet glurge.
9:30 PM – Five Characters In Search Of An Exit – A soldier, a clown, a tramp, a bagpiper and a ballerina wake to find themselves in a doorless empty room. Well-played and engaging.
10:00 PM – Nick Of Time – A charming script and low-key performance by pre-Kirk William Shatner (yes, I used "low-key" and "Shatner" in the same sentence) grace this cautionary tale about superstition and self-determination.
10:30 PM – Night Of The Meek – Down-and-out department store Santa, Art Carney, loses his job but finds a bag of gifts and plays Santa one last time for the neighborhood kiddies. But is it just an act? Beautiful, touching episode.
11:00 PM – Kick The Can – Timeless story about rest home residents learning that you are indeed as young as you feel. "Look! Think! Feel! Doesn't that wake some sleeping part of you?!"
11:30 PM – Where Is Everybody? – Guy finds himself alone in an empty town, with hints of residents recently present (lit cigarette in ashtray, etc.). Eerie and amusing, most worth watching because this is the pilot that sold the series to CBS.
Once again this New Year's Eve corks will fly and balls will drop, and we will all get a chance to spend some time in The Zone (at least those of us with basic cable...).
This year, SyFy (formerly the Science Fiction Channel, or SciFi) will air 81 episodes for its New Year's Twilight Zone marathon (down from 88 last year), starting 9am on 12/31 and ending at 5:30am on 1/2. So that's a lot of Serling for your dollar... but how do you tell the quality from the clunkers?
Unfortunately, SyFy is again not airing any of the beautiful hour-long episodes from Season 4, but there are still classics aplenty among the half-hour episodes. Just like last year, all ten of Time Magazine's Top Twilight Zone Episodes will be featured (they are in red, and alas there are none on New Year's Eve...), along with some lesser known beauties like "The Masks" (6:00 AM 1/1) and "In Praise of Pip" (9:30 AM 12/31), (in green), and finally a few that are not perfect, but have notable performances (in blue).
So what follows here is a short list of my favorite episodes which will be aired on Friday, December 31st, linked to a full list of all episodes, with brief descriptions and hopefully not too many spoilers. Celebrity names and other items of interest are bolded and linked.
In a few days, I'll post a rundown of episodes to be aired from 1/1 through the morning of 1/2.
Happy Zoning!
My Favorites – Short List
(Click the time to jump to the episode description.)
9:30 AM – In Praise Of Pip
10:30 AM – And When The Sky Was Opened
11:00 AM – The Silence
4:30 PM – The After Hours
5:30 PM – A Game Of Pool
6:00 PM – Long Distance Call
7:30 PM – Number Twelve Looks Just Like You
8:00 PM – A Penny For Your Thoughts
9:00 PM – Night Call
9:30 PM – Five Characters In Search Of An Exit
10:00 PM – Nick Of Time
10:30 PM – Night Of The Meek
11:00 PM – Kick The Can
11:30 PM – Where Is Everybody?
4:30 PM – The After Hours
5:30 PM – A Game Of Pool
6:00 PM – Long Distance Call
7:30 PM – Number Twelve Looks Just Like You
8:00 PM – A Penny For Your Thoughts
9:00 PM – Night Call
9:30 PM – Five Characters In Search Of An Exit
10:00 PM – Nick Of Time
10:30 PM – Night Of The Meek
11:00 PM – Kick The Can
11:30 PM – Where Is Everybody?
Full List – With Descriptions
9:00 AM – Escape Clause – I only like this one because I like David Wayne, but it’s not a great episode, just a grim morality play about the value of mortality. *Yawn!*
9:30 AM – In Praise Of Pip – I LOVE this episode. I REALLY love this episode (and did I mention I love this episode?). Jack Klugman delivers a top-notch, tragic performance as a dying no-good trying to do right by his serviceman son, Pip (a much less fearsome Billy Mumy). Sweet, sad magical ending.
10:00 AM – Ring-a-Ding Girl – Medium episode about movie star returning to her home town and throwing a “celebrate me” party. Or is she? Even though it’s not great, I always find myself watching this one all the way through.
10:30 AM – And When The Sky Was Opened – Well played, creepy episode about astronauts returning to earth… or did they? Or were they ever here? Or were you?? TZ makes us question our grasp of reality.
11:00 AM – The Silence – Tense, beautifully acted study in interpersonal dynamics and irony. Based loosely on Chekhov's The Bet, there is no supernatural hocus-pocus in this one. And there is no need for any.
11:30 AM – The Hunt – This mediocre folksy tale by The Waltons creator Earl Hamner Jr. has been recycled as internet glurge. Guy and dog have died and are walking along the road to heaven. Guy at pearly gate says, “No dogs allowed.” Guy says, “I ain’t going nowhere without my hound…” Sheesh.
12:00 PM – I Am the Night–Color Me Black – Murderous bigotry, hatred and fear are bad things. OK. We get it.
12:30 PM – The Rip Van Winkle Caper – It's Treasure of the Sierra Madre with suspended animation and blah writing. Good performances and a fun twist at the end make it sort of worth watching.
1:00 PM – Queen Of The Nile – Dopey episode about life-sucking millennia-old Egyptian queen. Blah blah blah. Skip it. "Long Live Walter Jameson" (4:30 AM 1/1) handles the material much more skillfully.
1:30 PM – Caesar and Me – Satan-spawn dummy drives hapless ventriloquist Jackie Cooper to a life of crime – matched in evilness only by tormenting then-child actress Morgan Brittany (later of Dallas fame). The same material is handled much better in "The Dummy" (3:30 PM 1/1).
2:00 PM – Probe 7 Over and Out – Stranded astronaut Richard Basehart, meets hostile alien female on deserted planet. She hurls rocks at him. Or maybe it's just foreplay. Now, what shall we call this place...? The same story is better told in "Two" (2:00 AM 1/1).
2:30 PM – Mr. Dingle, The Strong – Loud-mouthed salesman pisses away alien gifts on trivial feats. Worth watching for an adorable Burgess Meredith and amusing (and very young) Don Rickles.
3:00 PM – A Kind Of Stopwatch – Blabbering bore gets comeuppance via magical timepiece. Even The Girl, the Gold Watch and Everything was better than this turkey.
3:30 PM – The Little People – Ego and physical relativity clash in this memorable (though mediocre) episode, which has been lampooned in The Simpsons, South Park, and Futurama. Good performance by Claude Akins.
4:00 PM – A Hundred Yards Over The Rim – Underrated episode featuring a very young Cliff Robertson as a pioneer dad who will go yards, miles and years to heal his ailing son.
4:30 PM – The After Hours – Stunning Anne Francis finds herself wandering the non-existent floors of a creepy department store. (Wait... is that mannequin watching me??)
5:00 PM – Little Girl Lost – Little girl has slipped into another dimension. Can her parents and their conveniently present physicist pal rescue her before the portal closes forever? Decent script but bland acting. Tune in for the final 10 minutes for all you need to know.
5:30 PM – A Game Of Pool – Taut two-person drama about winning and losing, and what's really important in the game of life. Fine performances by Jack Klugman and Jonathan Winters. Not crazy about the ending; the real (and better) ending was done in the 80s TZ version.
6:00 PM – Long Distance Call – Creepy dead grandma wants her favorite grandson to be with her forever, and conveys her wishes via a toy phone. (Now if only Billy Mumy – TZ's favorite child actor – could wish her into the cornfield!) Nice performance by Philip Abbott as the kid's dad.
6:30 PM – A Most Unusual Camera – Lame-assed episode about three greedy morons undone by a magic camera. Hokey, ridiculous, predictable ending. Skip it.
7:00 PM – Stopover In A Quiet Town – At least it was quiet until this nattering couple woke up in a strange house with no memory of how they got there, and no one to ask where they are, or why the grass is made of papier-mâché. And if they'd shut up for two seconds, we just might care....
7:30 PM – Number Twelve Looks Just Like You – Dystopic utopia where everyone is beautifully identical and lifts their pretty mugs with a glass of Instant Smile. Mediocre script saved by Collin Wilcox's terrific performance.
8:00 PM – A Penny For Your Thoughts – Not a classic, but one of my favorites, featuring a young Dick York (the first Darren from Bewitched.)
8:30 PM – I Sing The Body Electric – Sweet story about a robot nanny lovingly bonding with tots.
9:00 PM – Night Call – Originally called "Sorry Right Number," this careful-what-you-wish-for tale features calls from beyond and a beautiful performance by Gladys Cooper. It has also been recycled as internet glurge.
9:30 PM – Five Characters In Search Of An Exit – A soldier, a clown, a tramp, a bagpiper and a ballerina wake to find themselves in a doorless empty room. Well-played and engaging.
10:00 PM – Nick Of Time – A charming script and low-key performance by pre-Kirk William Shatner (yes, I used "low-key" and "Shatner" in the same sentence) grace this cautionary tale about superstition and self-determination.
10:30 PM – Night Of The Meek – Down-and-out department store Santa, Art Carney, loses his job but finds a bag of gifts and plays Santa one last time for the neighborhood kiddies. But is it just an act? Beautiful, touching episode.
11:00 PM – Kick The Can – Timeless story about rest home residents learning that you are indeed as young as you feel. "Look! Think! Feel! Doesn't that wake some sleeping part of you?!"
11:30 PM – Where Is Everybody? – Guy finds himself alone in an empty town, with hints of residents recently present (lit cigarette in ashtray, etc.). Eerie and amusing, most worth watching because this is the pilot that sold the series to CBS.
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