CAPE COD'S GRASSROOTS: OPINION

I've written about being rooted to the earth in my Shadowwater books, taken from Native American folklore. When the word "ground" is used to describe what we walk on, readers often picture grass, dirt or in urban areas, concrete sidewalks. On Cape, our "ground" in all the above examples covers sand, the peninsula where we live shifts, changes; erodes.

With time, the roots above give way, but not the spirit of Cape Cod's people. Whether they be indigenous, migrants from the Old World (called Cape Codders) more recent dwellers or "wash-ashores," among these inhabitants, those who fight to protect our natural resources represent a grassroots initiative that once thrived on Cape Cod.

(Google Images)

Coming to the Cape from upstate New York as a child, I saw a world that didn't exist in my small town. Our family began our regular summer visits during the early seventies as the counter-culture movement continued to flourish. A record store where I bought my only YES album, "Relayer"; a second-hand shop frequented by "hippies," where I purchased a denim choker, and protesters scattered among several towns for many causes, remain fixed to my memory. For a tween these experiences, along with my mother's activism in multiple causes, taught me to travel a different road where I could make the world a better place.

Since then, with the influx of new money, the Cape, to those who infrequently visit, may appear conservative. And there's no denying we have more right-leaning proponents than in the seventies. However, when I relocated here I learned that long-time activists, both Cape Codders and "wash-ashores" like myself, do exist, though in smaller numbers.

(#NoDAPL - Copyright 2016)

Some fight exclusively for Cape-based causes, such as shutting down the leaking Pilgrim Nuclear Plant whereas others broaden their reach to national movements, e.g. NoDAPL, and worldwide issues like climate change. Of course, Massachusetts has been the hot-bed of rebellion since the Boston Tea Party and the American Revolution.

However, like Nevada, for example, before water shortages forced homeowners to abandon their lawns, the Cape has also become an oasis for those who live in the past and ignore the future. Many here who can afford to replace their natural grounds with grass sod often maintain their yards with pesticides which seep into the aquifers and pollute our lakes. They choose to ignore their local impact, national environmental issues and our decaying world.

(Intrepid Protesters - Copyright 2016)

For social programs, cuts in our state budget including opioid prevention and recovery, and money for the Cape's most vital industry, tourism, the Cape will no doubt see a reduction of tourism-related jobs and services and increasing recidivism, homelessness, and fewer visitors (the Cape Cod Chamber of Commerce has lost 50% of its budget). Homeowners will have to pay more and wait longer for service providers because of locals being forced to relocate off Cape since the cost of living here will become even more prohibitive. The result? What many year-round- and snow-bird-conservatives seem to want by voting for Trump: a resort dwelling where opposing viewpoints are squelched, and the struggling working- and fixed-income-poor are swept under the rug.

What some on Cape don't see or wish not to acknowledge is that young and old, rich and poor, healthy and disabled who disagree with the abrupt turn this nation has taken toward the right have become more empowered.

And to Trump supporters who believe that "the Donald" will create jobs for the working class you have been conned. Instead, you will see reduced regulations which will put more money in corporate pockets and closet nationalists who want white supremacy to rise above our nation's melting pot. In essence, Trump's supporters have given rebels with a cause the ammunition to fight harder, have brought the grassroots movements to an even broader audience, not just Bernie Sander's supporters, and have made the disenfranchised even angrier.

In World War II terms, Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, Japan's Pacific theater naval commander after the attack on Pearl Harbor said, "We have awakened a sleeping giant." Trump conservatives heed the Admiral's warning. If grassroots' voices become overwhelmed by fake rhetoric and malicious discourse that have no merit in fact, our greatest ally and reason to continue the movement, planet Earth, will have the final say--sooner than later.

(Nauset Beach - All Rights Reserved 2016)

MOONLIGHT: THE HEAVINESS OF BEING

(Google Images)

The brilliant movie poster for Moonlight (2016) trisects the film's hero-- adolescent, teenager and man--in one photograph. Three skilled actors play Little/Chiron/Black, each embodying the states of metamorphosis--director, Barry Jenkins's description--a fitting analogy. Watching the child's misery you wonder what changes must he endure to become a man, let alone [SPOILER ALERT] a beautiful, free Lepidoptera.

The weight that the young boy carries on his shoulders--no father, a drug-addicted mother, having to care for himself--would daunt any child. But when others' have an inkling that Little is not like other boys, that he may be gay, the cultural taboo silences Little's voice. He becomes a victim before he understands why. Adolescence for the diminutive kid rarely involves child's play. When it does, Little usually gets tagged as the one to chase.

As his mother spirals out of control (the powerful Naomie Harris), Little appears doomed until an unlikely rescuer steps in, a father-figure for the nine-year-old who happens to deal drugs. The Oscar-worthy, Mahershala Ali inhabits this part. Mr. Ali said, when interviewed on CBS This Morning, that he took the often stereotypical role because it had been written to break viewers' perceptions of a black drug dealer. Indeed, his character, Juan, shows compassion toward Little without patronizing or dominating the boy. In fact, he shares the child's demons, also having been raised raised by a single, addicted mother.

(Google images)

Juan and his devoted, self-sufficient girlfriend, Teresa, (Janelle Monae), provide the love and home Little desperately needs. Each help the young boy navigate his way through troubled waters--literally and figuratively. In time Little summons the courage, the self-confidence to assert himself, such as his demand from Juan that Little be called by his given name "Chiron." This act becomes Chiron's rite-of-passage into the next phase of his life.

I'll leave you to discover what happens next, too many spoilers, and move on to Moonlight's themes. Not being an African-American or a gay man, I could never truly feel what it's like to be in Chiron's shoes, but Jenkins wisely finds a universality that many people can comprehend. Watching Little, then Chiron, this writer relived the painful memories of childhood: having been bullied for being awkward and too sensitive. Plus, I appreciated how the boy looks to escape his miseries through the power of nature if only for a moment. The night becomes Little's friend: standing on the beach with a full moon overhead, Little looks toward the stars and the bright light streaming through the darkness, to find comfort. Where daydreaming isn't an option for him, fantasizing at night is.

The director returns to the "moonlight" theme again during pivotal scenes in the movie (set and filmed in Miami). One night Chiron, the teenager, realizes his friend Kevin, shares a poetic appreciation for nature--the ocean lapping the shore; the sand beneath their fingers. The darkness in daylight is replaced by a brief lightness under the moon. The lovingly shot scene of awakening makes what follows even more painful.

There's a beauty in the dialogue, too--much of it street talk--nuances which may be missed by some who are unfamiliar with black dialect. The director, Jenkins, accentuates that poetry isn't lost on children who see its potential. Rap and Hip-hop music demonstrate how the impact of words, with their underlying musical intricacies, can express deep-seeded anger, fear, distrust and violence these children live with everyday. What surprised me is that Jenkins' screenplay (based on Tarell Alvin McCraney's story) emphasizes words over music. Not drowned out by a soundtrack, I could hear the rhythms in the dialogue which may have been lost in another director's hands.

In contrast, violence is a rite-of-passage in Moonlight, but Barry Jenkins skillfully tempers the expected bloodshed until one, life-changing moment. The intimacy, moreover, is implied, not explicit: impressions reveal more than forced romantic dialogue or nude scenes ever could.

(Google Images)

When I left the theater, like other reviewers I felt equally drained and uplifted. It's difficult to fathom how living under an unending, increasing heaviness, [SPOILER ALERT] Chiron finds his way clear; he finds his destiny. I later thought, "How long will it last?" Since then, I've realized that's the wrong question. No, better to ask: how does a little boy with no hope of surviving, discover solace; in other words, how did he retain his ability to love?

Langston Hughes wrote: Hold fast to dreams/For if dreams die/Life is a broken winged-bird/That cannot fly. Moonlight asserts that we all should have a right to be ourselves and to dream.

(Google Images)

For more information about my Shadowwater series and how to contact me directly, access: www.shadowwater.net

THE SILENCE OF MUSIC

(Symphony Hall - Boston, Google Images)

Hunched over, cane in hand, he hobbled along the stage, with an aide holding his right arm. Music had been placed on the piano rack and an additional sturdy cushion on the bench for the performer's frail body. During the man's slow advance some audience members gasped in awe until eclipsed by the majority who clapped and cheered.

The musician readied himself, nodding to the waiting conductor who stilled the orchestra and then directed the opening tempo of Mozart's "Piano Concerto No. 27 in B-flat, K.595."  Hands in perfect attitude, though pale and bruised with aging, the pianist began to play with command and subtlety. More legato than often interpreted by other soloists, the master performer seemed to treasure every note, with a flourish of fingers here and there--maybe to accentuate his passion and/or possibly to flex his stiffening muscles.

My friend and I sat in the Second Balcony, stage right overlooking most of the Boston Symphony Orchestra (BSO) with a clear, view of the pianist. At first distracted by the player's bald spot and wisps of gray/white hairs, I inwardly slapped myself to concentrate on the music, sometimes closing my eyes to listen to each phrase and movement, only adjusting my pained body for brief relief during pauses.

The first Allegro enlivened my spirits, for, like many I imagine, I clamored for escape from the world's unwelcome noise. The musician seemed to have anticipated this need from his audience as he played with gusto. The second movement, Larghetto, elicited more ardor from the soloist: each finger produced brilliant sounds, underscoring every note with intoxicating richness. The final Allegro movement set my adrenaline into overdrive. My heart beat faster as I watched the pianist's hands scurry across the octaves and produce effortless glissandos. Then, coordinated silence: the conductor, soloist, orchestra and audience exhaled the resonance and inhaled, for nano-seconds, the calm.

A nod to the seasoned orchestra and assistant conductor, Moritz Gnann, who did what they should by supporting the great musician's performance yet not interfering with it. Earlier, the Boston Symphony had re-affirmed their own well-deserved reputation with an opening piece--the Overture to "The Hebrides" by Mendelssohn. Later, they would go on to impress with their individual solos and seamless unity performing Dvorak's "From the New World," Symphony No. 9 in E Minor, Opus 95.

(Front -Menahem Pressler - Google Images)

Nevertheless, the afternoon belonged to a man who with his parents had escaped Nazi Germany to grace us with his gift. A soon-to-be 93-year-old (not kidding, skeptics), Menahem Pressler, wooed his audience who lovingly demanded an encore (Chopin's Mazurka, No 4, Opus 17).

My touched friend, a woman whose life-spirit shares Pressler's boundless energy, predicted what I believe to be true: that what we had seen would no doubt be one of Pressler's final performances (he would play once more with the BSO but his website doesn't list future dates at this time). And when, after his last bows, the virtuoso exited stage left, a younger woman embraced him and kissed his cheek. Whether she was Pressler's daughter, I don't know; however, the gesture moved this writer.

I could elaborate on Pressler's "soft" hands, a compliment. Or, I could mention a few tentative notes and his facial ticks (I suspect more of a distraction for those in the orchestra seats, though judging by their instantaneous eruption and ovations, not an issue). But to latch onto the deconstructionist trend by some reviewers would be to assume the professional critic's mantle, in classical music, not my forte. Instead, I'd like to end with this observation: since that stellar afternoon at Symphony Hall, I continue to hear Menahem Pressler's notes or see his hands hovering above the keyboard during rests. In essence, he creates music even in silence.

FILM: FANTASTIC BEASTS & WHERE TO FIND THEM

Spread your wings and fly!

Swooping evil (a devilish name for a metamorphic wonder), Thunderbird (of flying creatures, my personal favorite) and Billywig (tiny wasp-like insect) will take you on a dazzling trips. These aviators hold their own among other magical creations via J. K. Rowling's imaginative screenplay. Since Avatar's release in 2009, many 3-D films have disappointed with limited effects but not Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2016). At last, I felt as if I were in the story not a casual observer of sparse 3-D tidbits and welcomed Billywig's buzzing near my face.

(Google Images)

J. K. Rowling's writing more assured; her setting ripe for political intrigue, the height of the Roaring Twenties in New York, Rowling and director David Yates entertain but also evoke pathos. A sunlight skyline morphs into a dark metropolis of corruption, child abuse (Dickensian nod) and unrelenting evil emanating from the righteous who choose not to spare the rod to politicians that instill fear without substance and undermine the disenfranchised. Careful not to inundate audiences with too much dreariness, Rowling inserts playful, unexpected moments, e.g. a jazz club with a swarmy owner, Gnarlack, (versatile actor Ron Perlman delivers the voice cameo) that attempts to outsmart our hero.

(Google Images)

And, anticipating longing for a character-driven fantasy, Rowling's story delivers. The movie opens with Newt (Eddie Redmayne) passing through Ellis Island with a briefcase filled with beasts, including one ready to spring at any moment, but Newt has the upper hand when he encounters a customs' inspector. A hurdle conquered, Newt tentatively resolves to find his way amidst the dizzying crowds, skyscrapers and din of early 1920s' New York. His intent becomes clear as he encounters Kowalski, a No-Maji (Rowling's American parlance for Muggle) and would-be-baker whose ended his dreary factory shift, and unwittingly helps Newt and the wizard's "fantastic creatures." Completing the foursome of reluctant heroes are two witches: Tina (Katherine Waterston), a disgraced, former Auror, who enforces the law for the Wand Permits Office and her alluring sister, Queenie (Alison Sudol), who works in the same office doing menial tasks yet cloaks an enchanting talent.

(Carmen Ejogo as Seraphina Picquery -
Google Images)

Other notable performances and characters include a restrained Colin Farrell as Graves dancing on the edge of dark forces as a high-ranking Auror; a regal Carmen Ejogo as Seraphina Picquery, President of the Magical Congress of the United States; Samantha Morton as Mary Lou Barebone (perfect surname for this cold-hearted mother), and a "break-out" appearance by Ezra Miller as Credence Barebone, soon to join the DC franchise as The Flash in Justice League (2017).

Some critics have balked at the character, Newt, and Eddie Redmayne's portrayal, as if a meek and socially awkward man shouldn't take center stage. My response? Tolerance, people, as fans of shows such as The Big Bang Theory or Ron Weasley in the Harry Potter series will applaud Newt. Within the span of the film (2 hrs, 13 m), David Yates cautiously reveals Newt's transformation so that the character grows as the film unfolds. Sympathetic movie-lovers will appreciate Newt's eccentric ways. Besides, given pieces of Newt's background (Newt's heart has been broken by a mysterious woman in his past) the man retains his child-like qualities, endearing him to anyone who wants to believe.

Discover a fanciful adventure that will entertain your weary mind and touch your open heart.

Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them may be disturbing and sometimes frightening for young children (I recommend tweens and older).

WHITE MAN'S FEAR: THE UGLY TRUTH OF THIS PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION

Please read the following opinion as a blanket indictment of those who refuse to see:

The Talented Mr. Ripley, book by
Patricia Highsmith (1955) and film directed by Anthony Minghella (1999), involves a young man stalking and studying a successful wealthy man's every move to, in essence, become him. For a millennium, white Americans like Mr. Ripley, have aspired toward the top of the world using any means necessary to

(Matt Damon, The Talented Mr. Ripley)

get there. Some have succeeded, others have failed, but the "old boy network" hasn't buckled, until eight years ago with the election of President Obama.

Those who have vilified our president have revealed their dismay that a black president could flourish--readers have you seen the surging economic numbers, lately? President Obama did what others were unable to achieve: his policies and advisors ended the Great Recession and invigorated a stagnant economy, a highlight of many other accomplishments. Moreover other people of color have made in-roads, e.g., Senator Corey Booker (D-N.J.), once mayor of Newark and a role-model for turning around a seemingly hopeless urban community. He overcame and continues to face insurmountable obstacles. Many others, however, who've have striven toward financial or political apexes have been thwarted by established rules that favor the elite, opportunities are rare.

Blinded by racism, insecurity or both, some of the detractors alluded to above were happy to join Donald Trump's circus train. These denigrators wish to return to a time when minorities had little say in the future of our country. For example, women began their long, unending journey toward parity after obtaining the vote, with the unspoken understanding that to succeed in a man's world they should act, dress and behave, like a successful, heterosexual white man. Only recently has that begun to change where women in all colors, preferences, shapes and sizes have made significant in-roads from Oprah Winfrey to Sonia Sotomayor. Yet, equal pay and an equal voice remain troubling sticking points.

Case in point, several years ago, as a temporary worker in the corporate offices of a scenic design company in New York State, I was warned not to discuss any topic considered to be "political," even during my lunch break, with other employees because the company's higher echelon had made it known that the majority of executives were Republicans. In essence, if I'd supported their politics, which they didn't hesitate to broadcast, I'd have a chance of being hired permanently. Needless to say, other minority groups were often overlooked as potential employees.

Looking at the larger picture, the GOP right and its supporters, see anyone knocking on the gates of their private club, including immigrants, as a threat to their way of life and the future of their children's.

In contrast, so many liberal friends throw-up their hands in disgust at the current presidential election. How did Donald Trump become the Republican Party's candidate? The answer, to me at least, is simple: fear. Many men and some women see a woman, a Democrat, and the most-qualified candidate ever to run for the highest office, a.k.a. Hillary Clinton, as threat to the establishment.

(Taming Corporate Power, The Guardian,
Nicola Jennings, illustrator - Google Images)

Vladimir Putin seems to agree, as do those allegedly apolitical reformists from Wikileaks who've released Clinton's private e-mails that weren't meant to be seen publicly (Is anything sacred anymore? This could happen to anyone seen as a threat to the status quo) . And why hasn't Trump's private server been hacked?

Breaking the glass political ceiling brings consequences, and, Hillary Clinton being within days of winning the election has elicited unprecedented attacks by those working to see her stopped. Those whose predecessors put the glass ceiling in place. What's worse, there has already been talk from Republican leaders that they will forestall any Supreme Court nominee Clinton would name for her entire first term.

But its the economic stagnation from overpopulation, meteoric technical advances, climate change and greed that the white, male elite has supported for decades which has led to fewer opportunities for the working class, e.g., to achieve the American Dream. As with Adolph Hitler's rise mainly white men, and some women, have become blinded by false promises of a potential demagogue, Donald Trump, who has no qualifications to govern (Atlantic Magazine, Meyer, 2016). The fear that Trump incites taps into the intrinsic dread among the uninformed who want easy answers to difficult questions and looks to blame other groups for their insecurities.

(Fast Company/Chaos - Google Images)

What's more, let us assume that these conservatives worst predictions become realized. Minorities, get empowered and white men must relinquish their tenuous grasp. Well, though racial/gender strides have been made, I'd estimate that it could take decades before any major turn-around would occur. Only problem, what will be left for them or and/or the struggling working and middle classes, the disenfranchised, the disabled and the forgotten who were ignored by the Republican-controlled Congress during Obama's presidency and the Congress and George W. Bush during his?

For Native Americans, the stand-off in support of the Standing Rock Sioux against the pipeline (#NoDAPL)--their sacred burial grounds have already been bull-dozed--represents a potential environmental catastrophe. The pipeline has been deemed a safer alternative by the so-called experts than shipping oil via trucks ("Do your math," re spillage, guys!).

A planet decimated by global warming, famine at an unparalleled rate, techno-terrorism, limited open space, polluted drinking water...The policies forged by the industrial revolution and capitalism which have run amok, with little regard for planet Earth, will doom our country; our global village. Economically, "redistribution of wealth" for those who have been suppressed for centuries, may never happen; their time in the sun may never come.

Of course, other ethnic groups have conservative supporters that believe their moral values will be threatened by left-wing politicians, but I've been happy to observe many have seen the light and have switched their allegiance to Hillary Clinton. And some white Republicans, women in particular, have also understood how dangerous electing Donald Trump would be.  

So, yes, narrow-minded White Americans (whether they be the working, middle or upper class; men or women) and others who support their conservative, border-line extremist agenda; right-wing Europeans, and potentates across the globe should be shaking in their boots: because down in the depths of their consciences they know who's truly to blame for their fear.

TRAIN OF THOUGHT

"Why don't you write about..." Yes, friends offer their advice as to topics for my blog, experts proffer reasons why a blog should focus on one topic, and my over-active mind has an abundance of suggestions. This week, more than most, I've been flummoxed. My eureka moment happened five seconds ago as the ideas kept chugging--train travel, a la Wendy.

Americans rarely get to enjoy an immersive experience riding along the rails. Amtrak does provide sterile comfort in its Acela cars. In contrast, summer 1982, my friend and I rode a British Rail Sleeper train from London to Edinburgh (ed-in-bruh or ed-in-buh-ruh, Quora.com). A night journey leaving at 22:30 (10:30 pm), we didn't have much time to admire the locomotive. And being a morning person, I could barely keep my eyes open until widened by the train's interior. Our attendant led us to our cabin. No sliding glass or metal doors: the polished oak portal with its brass handle invited us in as the uniformed gentleman provided the necessary details about our sleeper and the w.c. down the corridor.

(Caledonian Sleeper Train compartment -
Google images)

I took dibs on the upper bunk and gladly climbed up wearing my (then) Lanz nightgown and thrust my feet under the hospital-cornered sheet and blanket, preparing myself to relish the joy of being lulled to sleep by the train's motion imagining "clickety-clack, clickety-clack."

After the engine lurched the locomotive forward, later that night I got a wake-up call, literally and figuratively. Unbeknownst to either of us, the sleeper was also a mail train. With every break squeak and lunging progression, my circadian rhythm went amok: think of Stephen Glass vs. Brahms or in current music circles, Foo Fighters vs. John Legend. So in time, I surrendered to the experience and tried to count the number of stops until my body acquiesced. Two hours, give or take, sleep and then the train came to a complete stop.

That moment brought relief, like the easing of the steam engine, pure silence, eyes leaden and heavy, "Ah, at last!" I thought.

"Knock, knock!" The firm announcement that our attendant, I'd believed, had wanted to enter.

A "One moment, please," from me, in behalf of my friend, and we scurried to collect ourselves.

With his delightful, somewhat bemused West End accent, the gentleman, instead, remained outside the door and gave us a genuine wake-up call of 7 am, along with "Ladies, breakfast will be served in ten minutes." My favorite part of the trip as he entered with trays carrying our continental meal--Earl Gray tea, crusty rolls, English, and orange marmalade and jams.

In short time, we freshened up using the in-cabin sink and then joined the queue for the loo (Couldn't help that one, a recovering Anglophile).

When the conductor came along to give us our disembarkation time, my normally cranky self after little sleep, felt disappointed. I wanted to stay longer to absorb every detail now revealed in daylight. Not to be, as the attendant reminded us politely, we had to leave. Cheers!

(Class 56 diesel loco - Google Images)

PROFESSIONALS, FRIENDS & ACQUAINTANCES, please support my weekly blog with a one-time or weekly contribution. I hope to parlay this blog into a paying gig. Please click on link and send what you can. Thank you! paypal.me/WShreve71 Funds will go toward marketing, publicity of blog and soon-to-be published third book.

For more information about the Shadowwater series and how to contact me directly, access: www.shadowwater.net

WHAT MAKES A GREAT DISASTER, MOVIE?

Inserted the comma above on purpose. Foremost, the disaster should catch our attention. Why should we care unless the depiction shows a "true" event? Second, any actor, take B movies from the 50s e.g. This Island Earth, can react but to make the audience care about their character and their imminent peril requires talent.

(Google Images)

                   

Having sat through or watched at home many films in that action sub-genre, I have compartmentalized the hits and misses. Writers and directors rarely portray real-life catastrophes with historical accuracy, having to insert enhanced or fictionalized scenes that heighten the suspense. Case in point, Deepwater Horizon (2016), where the filmmakers chose to put in the opening titles, "Based on true events." Smart decision as that statement gave the director liberty to add more explosions, imperiled characters and daring rescues which may or may not have actually occurred.

(Google Images)

Still, Deepwater Horizon succeeded where many disaster flicks have failed--it grabbed me from the beginning and didn't let go until the final rescues. The actors, including Mark Wahlberg as the site engineer, Mike Williams, has come a long way as a performer and for this film at least perfectly cast, keep the momentum building. Even those less-emphasized rough-necks, whom we only glimpse intermittently, pulled me in and made me care.

(Google Images)

Other outstanding performances included Kurt Russell as Mr. H., Kate Hudson, whose been underused for years, as Mike William's wife, John Malkovich's calculating BP well-site leader, and Gina Rodriguez, the rig's only woman who steered the "helm" of the platform which could be maneuvered when needed. Each of these actors found an arc in their characters, surprising us at unexpected moments.

Blending the action and the portrayals seamlessly takes an experienced hand, and although delighted the actor Peter Berg helmed this story (an actor's director) I believe the realism went amok at the story's climax. Confession: I have some familiarity with oil rigs, what I learned from living in Singapore and briefly dating an engineer, and, my boyfriend, a retired 30-year fireman who later provided his viewpoint, sat next to me. Therefore, I had higher expectations of the movie's realism than others may have. You will need to see the movie to judge for your yourself how realistic the action-sequences were toward the movie's end.

Despite this, Deepwater Horizon moved me. Very difficult these days, as I've become more inured and cynical. No matter the rationalizations and attempts at objectivity, however, and, having followed the aftermath on the news and read about the real disaster's unfoldment, the loss of any crew working on that rig could've been prevented had the workers' lives been paramount in the BP camp.

Some have objected to the movie not citing the historical, environmental aftermath of the Deepwater Horizon tragedy. Within the movie, the director, Berg, did show overt examples--gushing oil out of control spewing into the stratosphere, a seabed plunged into darkness; a seabird in agony--trickles yet harrowing nevertheless.

The devastating ecological consequences of BP's negligence, as I see it, should be told on the big screen as a separate drama, so that audiences can process and absorb the gravity of what they have seen without cutting the tether to the initial man-made cataclysm.

Pull in your gut and go see the film, Deepwater Horizon. The somber images will linger in your mind, the tragedy will burn your senses, but the heroism of the rig's crew will give you hope.

PROFESSIONALS, FRIENDS & ACQUAINTANCES, please support my weekly blog with a one-time or weekly contribution. I hope to parlay this blog into a paying gig. Please click on link and send what you can. Thank you! paypal.me/WShreve71 Funds will go toward marketing, publicity of blog and soon-to-be published third book.

For more information about the Shadowwater series and how to contact me directly, access: www.shadowwater.net