Energy drinks, science, daring do, and boobies.

I went to an airshow this weekend at Davis Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson AZ. It was amazing! Saturday was ridiculously windy and freezing cold, so they had to cancel a few of the demonstrations, like wing walking and hang gliding. Yes, I said wing walking! Sunday's weather was perfect, so she could perform:



Unfortunately my camera battery died and I had to take this picture on my phone. If I could have zoomed in I would have gotten some shots of her in the air. Still, the Thunderbirds' F-16s behind the biplane look nice.

The other amazing thing was the Red Bull Aerobatic Team. Their pilot, Kirby Chambliss, is a madman, doing things in a plane that don't even seem possible. They also have an aerobatic helicopter. That's right. Aerobatic. Helicopter.



It's not the only helicopter that can do a barrel roll though. We were walking around the ground displays on Saturday in the rain, and there was an Apache.



Me: Ooh look an Apache. That can do a barrel roll.
Laurel (my aunt): Yeah right.
Approaches an airman.
Laurel: She tells me this can do a barrel roll.
Airman: It can.
Me: (smack) I told you!
Airman: (laughs)

I don't think an Apache can do all those tricks as close together as the Red Bull Helicopter, and maybe it can't do what on a plane would be an aileron roll, which is different from a barrel roll... Then again, the Apache was built to kill things, and the Red Bull Helicopter was built to do tricks.

Red Bull invests a lot of money in these machines and pilots, seeking out the best people to keep improving their show, and the state of the art of the aerobatic craft. They also promote science and math education. It's pretty awesome.

Rockstar, on the other hand, pays girls to take their shirts off. I remember when I was in film school, I drank a lot of energy drinks. One day on campus there was a big foamy hose sprayer thing soaking down girls on a Rockstar stage. It was pretty stupid. I stopped drinking Rockstar drinks. Monster coffee is better anyway. Red Bull is OK tasting.

Consider if Rockstar put money into something awesome too. The epic rivalry between these energy drink companies could fuel a revolution in American science education. But, no. Boobs.

Thoughts on Art.

I'm reposting a comment I left on my brother's blog about the types of stories literary critics like, versus good stories, and why there is that difference. I will probably write more on this, especially since I'm trying to stop being lazy and actually make some art this year. (New Year's resolution? Not going so well) But here's what I thought of. It relates to my thoughts on the Eisenhower Memorial too.... He asked why a bunch of spiritual bulemics are running our art world:

It's because they think the purpose of art is to challenge. I used to think they had it wrong, but since my is still blown from watching the last three DVDs of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood in one go, I'm actually ready to concede that point. But challenge what?

Critics steeped in critical theory who (surprise surprise) find themselves and their lives lacking something, think art ought to raise its fist and scream a challenge to God for making things so crappy. Or they would, if they weren't also wussy. And Marxists. So instead they raise their middle fingers and sneer an insult at the past, or the public, or anything that someone else might earnestly enjoy, for being, well, better than them. They tell us that stories about pathetic people being pathetic are realistic, because it's all they know, and they've settled for it.

But the purpose of art is to challenge. Us. To be heroic, not to give in when the odds are against us, to depend on our friends, to find and hold something or someone that makes us able to face down whatever life throws our way, to pick ourselves up when we fail. And not sneer at normal life and people, because that is what we are protecting, and what we will return to or start again when the story is over, until the next adventure.

We should accept art's challenge, not use it as an excuse to settle, and eventually decay and collapse, because the challenge is too much.