I saw the new Blade Runner movie. The production was great; the plot was filled with holes. Below are the questions that I had after watching the film. These questions contain spoilers, so don't read this if you haven't seen the film yet and care about the plot not being spoiled.
Characters:
K (Ryan Gosling)
Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford)
Joi (Ana de Armas)
Luv (Sylvia Hoeks)
Lt. Joshi (Robin Wright)
Dr. Ana Stelline (Carla Juri)
Niander Wallace (Jared Leto)
Freysa (Hiam Abbass)
Mariette (Mackenzie Davis)
Questions:
1) How did K deduce that Dr. Stelline is Deckard's daughter? I think the viewer is supposed to make this connection by the fact that Dr. Stelline got emotional about K's memory of the horse when she confirmed its authenticity. But that is an incredibly weak connection.
2) Why was Luv trying to kill K? Perhaps she was only indirectly trying to kill him, as K impeded her in her pursuit of Deckard. But then why did her team attempt to blow up the old casino that K and Deckard were in, especially if she wanted Deckard alive?
3) Why did Wallace and K not work together? Both characters had the same goal--to find Deckard, although their motivations for doing so were different.
4) What happened with Wallace? Wallace did not have any additional screen time after his failed attempt at extracting information from Deckard. So as far as we know, he is still out there, attempting to accomplish his goal. This was a loose end that was not tied up.
5) What happened with Freysa and Mariette? Neither of these characters had any additional screen time after they rescued K and told him of the replicant resistance movement. They did not provide K with any assistance. So what purpose did that scene--really, even the existence of those characters--serve? This was a loose end that was not tied up.
6) Why did Deckard not just delete the DNA record of his daughter if he was trying to keep her hidden? Deckard clearly had not just access to the central database of DNA records, but also editing rights, as he was able to scramble his daughter's birth record and list her as dead. Why did he not just delete the record?
7) Why should K think that he was the child born of the replicant mother, Rachael? K had the memory of the toy horse with the inscribed date on it, which matched the date inscribed on the tree. This was how he theorized that he was the child of Rachael, I think. But K also knew that all his memories were implants. Why would the memory of this toy horse make him think otherwise?
8) Why did Mariette place the tracking device in K's coat? Why was K special such that she needed to track him? If it was to convince him to join the replicant resistance movement, does that mean that she tracked other replicants?
Related: Did Joi or K summon Mariette to simulate sex with K?
9) Why did K go to Las Vegas? Easy answer is because the wood that K's toy horse was made from was traced to Las Vegas. But so what? The wood could have been imported from anywhere. Did he really think that he would find his supposed father, who turned out to be Deckard, there? That is incredibly shaky reasoning. (But, fortunately, due to poor plot writing, K was able to find exactly whom he was looking for in the first building he entered. How convenient.)
10) Who stole the orphanage's records? What motivation did the thief have to steal these records? What information was in these records that was so valuable? This plot line was not at all pursued, and I suspect it might have been more important and helpful for K's search.
11) Why would K have the physical toy horse in his possession if the memory of the toy horse was not actually his?
12) What constitutes an acceptable replicant obedience test? As far as I could tell, the only difference between the first and second obedience tests administered to K at the LAPD office was the promptness of K's responses. Why would that force him to retire in 48 hours, as Lt. Joshi told him?
Related: How did that test ensure replicant obedience? The test seemed to require the replicant to say one-word responses, usually the last word that the reader said. Anybody could pass that test to give the illusion of compliance, and then immediately rebel.
13) Why did K have to run away after failing his obedience test? Who was coming after him? Why?
14) Why does Freysa have knowledge about Deckard's child? Naturally, she would have a vested interest in Deckard's child--a child of a replicant--but how did Freysa get access to that information? Was she in contact with Deckard? Does she have a connection to Deckard?
15) How did Luv's team know that Deckard would be with K in Las Vegas? Luv knew K was out trying to find the father of the replicant child (it's why she killed Lt. Joshi), but how did she know that K had found him when she pulled up his geolocation information on Joshi's computer?
Friday, October 27, 2017
Thursday, October 12, 2017
A high school memoir
One day, the question, "Who is going to be worship leader next school year?" popped into my head.
"Well, hey...I could do it...if I just learned guitar..."
It was September 2009. I had recently begun my junior year at Berean Christian High School. I could play a G, a C, and a D on guitar. I knew how to make a bar chord (saying nothing about my ability to actually do so). And I was at least halfway decent at singing--hell, I was in the top choir at the school.
The idea of being worship leader was so exciting to me that I immediately pulled Grandpa Chet's old Martin guitar--the one that was apparently worth $X,000--out of the closet to start tuning and playing chords. My brother had left a piece of paper somewhere in our room which depicted the finger placement on the frets necessary to make common chords. It'll take a lot of work, I thought, but I have a year. I could do it.
Besides, I thought, even if it doesn't work out, I will have learned how to play guitar. And I could be worship leader for my church youth group.
Berean
The next few months, my mind was occupied with ideas and plans for how I would conduct chapels at school if I were worship leader. I closely observed what Melanie--the figurehead worship leader--and Travis--the actual worship leader--did, and I evaluated which aspects I wanted to keep or throw out. Every time my mind wandered to this topic, an overwhelming feeling of excitement welled up in me.
In November 2009, I scheduled an informal worship night at my church. It was intended to be a trial run for how my worship leading might go. I took great care in planning the set list and practicing for the event. I must have invited thirty or more people. Two showed up. Needless to say, it was disheartening.
But I kept on. I knew one failed event couldn't be what stopped me.
I needed an acoustic-electric guitar. The Martin didn't have a pickup, and there was no way my mom would have let me lug that guitar to and from school for chapel once a week anyway. I went to Guitar Center and tried various models out. I decided I liked best a black Ovation with a curved back. It wasn't too expensive ($300), but it also wasn't the cheapest, so I felt good about that. I added it to my Christmas list. Part of me felt guilty for asking for it since I was still far from an expert at guitar.
My parents bought me the Ovation for Christmas. I liked how it looked and how it felt; however, it had some pitch issues. Adjacent strings could be in pitch with each other at the fifth fret; but when the strings were open, each string got progressively more sharp. A source of the issue was the unusually high action. A Guitar Center employee helped me remove a half-millimeter-thick piece of plastic from under the saddle, which helped, but did not completely fix the issue.
Church
One Saturday in February of 2010, I showed up to my youth group's worship team practice to provide vocals. My goal was twofold: to break the stereotype of female backup singers in youth group bands, and to demonstrate (both to myself and to the group) that I could sing and had no problem doing so in front of the youth group.
Later that month, I accompanied a friend of mine who sang at a funeral at my church. This event not only gave me more practice, but I also viewed it as a marketing effort to my peers at my church that I could be my youth group's worship leader.
Berean
A couple weeks later, on a rainy afternoon after school, I spoke with Melanie and told her about my intention to audition for worship leader. I asked her some questions about her experience in the position, and she asked me about my interest. At the end of the conversation, she told me that a few people had come to her directly and told her that I would make a great worship leader. I was both baffled and encouraged. I had told very few people about my interest in the position; but it was also a good sign that my peers were endorsing me on their own.
It was Tuesday, March 30, 2010. I skipped the lunchtime musical practice to audition for worship leader in front of the student government. In addition to the usual speech, this year's audition also required candidates to lead the student government in a song. I gave a five-minute speech which I had loosely prepared for in which I explained where my desire came from and what I wanted to implement as worship leader. Then I led the student government in "Jesus Paid it All". I left the audition feeling fine. It was nothing spectacular, but as I thought, it was all in God's hands then.
On Friday, April 2, Good Friday, I was supposed to give "Noticias del Día" in Period 1 Spanish IV. I was nervous--not because I had to speak in Spanish in front of fifteen of my classmates, but because they were announcing the results of the student government elections on the intercom with the morning announcements.
"Worship leader is Jonathan Lim."
My heart did not stop pounding, even as the announcements finished and I walked up to the front of the room. My friend Curtis mouthed to me, "I'm sorry." I mouthed back, "It's fine."
At break, Dawn and I were chatting. Apparently she had missed the announcement. She was one of the ones that knew I wanted to go for worship leader. When she heard that Jonathan had won the position, she was indignant. "What!? You could do such a better job!" She was more upset about it than I was.
Melanie found me later in the day. She said it was neither my speech nor my song that didn't get me the position. She still wanted me to be involved with the worship team, so she asked me to audition for the worship team. I declined. I didn't perceive myself as good enough at guitar alone or at singing alone to provide only one of those talents. I could provide both, together, halfway decently, coupled with the leadership aspect, and that was all I was willing to give. I also knew that Mrs. Hazelrigg--the choir director--Melanie, and Travis--the favorite son of the music department--would be involved in deciding who comprised the worship team, and I did not want to be subject to their scrutiny.
The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. Jonathan had never demonstrated any evidence that he had any musical ability. Conversely, I had been in the school's top choir, the Abundant Life Singers, for two years. Historically, the worship leader had never not been a member of ALS, probably because second period (when ALS was scheduled) always followed chapel, so the worship leader could return all the musical equipment to the music room and not miss a more academic class.
But most of my unhappiness came from the fact that I had managed to convince myself that worship leader was what God wanted for me. I thought I had seen so many signs pointing to that path. I began to think that the student government went against what God wanted. Enmity toward the student government, toward Jonathan, and toward Melanie began to build within me.
Church
I took some solace in the thought that I could still lead worship at my youth group.
I had sung in the church's youth group band twice. The first time was when I showed up on my own, and the second time was the following week, when Cory, the worship leader asked me to return. I was never scheduled to return again. Each week, I received an email from Cory with the list of musicians for the following Sunday. And each week, my name was not on the list. It bothered me that I was not able to demonstrate my ability and interest in the worship team; but I also knew that the youth group didn't have much of a choice for the following year's worship leader selection. The current worship band consisted entirely of graduating seniors, with the exception of one terrible vocalist and one electric guitar player, Brent. So I continued refining my skills on guitar, even though I had been rejected for the position at school.
Berean
One evening in June 2010, I had a hard time coping with my Berean worship leader defeat. I wanted a reason. So I reached out to Melanie on Facebook. I asked her what it was that disqualified me, if it was neither my speech nor my song. Her response, saturated with agitation, was that it was nothing personal against me; that student government collectively decided that Jonathan would be a better fit; and that I should talk to the student government adviser, because it was not her place to say.
Less than a week later, she deleted me as a Facebook friend.
Church
One Sunday in early June 2010, Cory was out of town. This is my chance to step up, I thought. So I offered to lead the youth group worship that Sunday. Cory left behind no instructions, no guidance, no access to sheet music. So of course none of the electrical equipment worked that morning, and I was left scrambling to figure out what to do in front of my peers and my youth pastor. It felt as though I had been deliberately set up for failure.
Brent and I got together another Saturday that summer to practice for Sunday's worship. As we were leaving his house, his mom called out, suggesting that I lead worship for the youth group during the school year. She said it seemed logical, as I was graduating and Brent was only an incoming sophomore. I admitted that I had been hoping to step into that role. The understanding at the end of that conversation was that Brent and I agreed that I could be worship leader that year, and then Brent could take over after I left.
I brought my guitar with me to camp that summer. Almost every night, I played and sang worship songs as my campers were supposed to be falling asleep. I co-led songs with Michael in front of campfire a few times. I took advantage of every opportunity I could get to practice my worship leading skills.
Then, in a communication that I had with my recently appointed youth pastor during late July, I was told that Brent was worship leader. I ignored the issue for weeks. Brent has zero singing ability and he's a sophomore--of course he's not worship leader. I kept thinking that there was going to be an application process, an open audition for those who wanted the position.
It was September 2010. I was a month into my senior year at Berean. I had been playing on the youth group worship team nearly every week. There was no audition.
I had been snubbed.
I later learned that over the previous year, Cory had apparently been "training" and "grooming" Brent--who was a freshman--to take over for him. He had never approached me about the issue. Conversely, I was unaware that I needed to ask him about it. Evidently, worship leadership was an insiders club that was invite-only.
And, evidently, Brent went back on our soft agreement that I could be worship leader that year.
So all that time I spent practicing was for naught? I thought. Why did I bring my guitar to camp?
I had been snubbed.
Berean
Jonathan's worship leading was mediocre. His team was the worst out of the four teams I had seen during my time at Berean. Each week during chapel, I identified something he did that either was a mistake or that I disliked. And each week, it did not get any less painful for me.
In October 2010, I was notified that there was a leadership-based scholarship application open. Only one student from Berean would be permitted to apply, so I completed a "pre-application." The College and Career Counselor would use these pre-applications to decide who would actually get to submit the application. Jonathan and I were the two pre-application finalists. The Counselor met with both of us together. She said that we were equally qualified; however, they gave the opportunity to apply to Jonathan because he had the official title of "worship leader."
I had been snubbed.
Church
I felt guilty. Had my parents wasted money getting me that guitar for Christmas?
I desperately held onto the wildest imagination of hope I could come up with: that if I talked to my youth pastor, he would replace Brent and put me in the position for which I had pined for so long. That hope was dashed to pieces in November when I heard the youth pastor describe his vision of having Brent as worship leader for the next three years of his high school career. He stated his intention of watching Brent grow and improve in the position. Why would you want a crappy worship band now, I thought, when I can already sing?
Berean
I spoke with a school friend of mine about my struggle to get over not being selected for worship leader. I asked her if she thought it would be worthwhile for me to talk to the student government advisor to get closure.
"Do you know why they chose Jonathan?"
"No."
"Student government said that during his audition, they felt the Holy Spirit in the room."
That changed the game for me. It broke my assumption that worship leader was what God wanted for me. Why did no one tell me this? I thought. That could have saved me six months of anguish.
Church
In December 2010, I told my youth pastor that I was quitting the worship team. I couldn't take it anymore. It was too painful.
Seriously, had my parents wasted money getting me that guitar?
* * *
I wish there were a better way to end this story. But any ending that neatly ties the story together and resolves everything is merely fictional.
"Well, hey...I could do it...if I just learned guitar..."
It was September 2009. I had recently begun my junior year at Berean Christian High School. I could play a G, a C, and a D on guitar. I knew how to make a bar chord (saying nothing about my ability to actually do so). And I was at least halfway decent at singing--hell, I was in the top choir at the school.
The idea of being worship leader was so exciting to me that I immediately pulled Grandpa Chet's old Martin guitar--the one that was apparently worth $X,000--out of the closet to start tuning and playing chords. My brother had left a piece of paper somewhere in our room which depicted the finger placement on the frets necessary to make common chords. It'll take a lot of work, I thought, but I have a year. I could do it.
Besides, I thought, even if it doesn't work out, I will have learned how to play guitar. And I could be worship leader for my church youth group.
Berean
The next few months, my mind was occupied with ideas and plans for how I would conduct chapels at school if I were worship leader. I closely observed what Melanie--the figurehead worship leader--and Travis--the actual worship leader--did, and I evaluated which aspects I wanted to keep or throw out. Every time my mind wandered to this topic, an overwhelming feeling of excitement welled up in me.
In November 2009, I scheduled an informal worship night at my church. It was intended to be a trial run for how my worship leading might go. I took great care in planning the set list and practicing for the event. I must have invited thirty or more people. Two showed up. Needless to say, it was disheartening.
But I kept on. I knew one failed event couldn't be what stopped me.
I needed an acoustic-electric guitar. The Martin didn't have a pickup, and there was no way my mom would have let me lug that guitar to and from school for chapel once a week anyway. I went to Guitar Center and tried various models out. I decided I liked best a black Ovation with a curved back. It wasn't too expensive ($300), but it also wasn't the cheapest, so I felt good about that. I added it to my Christmas list. Part of me felt guilty for asking for it since I was still far from an expert at guitar.
My parents bought me the Ovation for Christmas. I liked how it looked and how it felt; however, it had some pitch issues. Adjacent strings could be in pitch with each other at the fifth fret; but when the strings were open, each string got progressively more sharp. A source of the issue was the unusually high action. A Guitar Center employee helped me remove a half-millimeter-thick piece of plastic from under the saddle, which helped, but did not completely fix the issue.
Church
One Saturday in February of 2010, I showed up to my youth group's worship team practice to provide vocals. My goal was twofold: to break the stereotype of female backup singers in youth group bands, and to demonstrate (both to myself and to the group) that I could sing and had no problem doing so in front of the youth group.
Later that month, I accompanied a friend of mine who sang at a funeral at my church. This event not only gave me more practice, but I also viewed it as a marketing effort to my peers at my church that I could be my youth group's worship leader.
Berean
A couple weeks later, on a rainy afternoon after school, I spoke with Melanie and told her about my intention to audition for worship leader. I asked her some questions about her experience in the position, and she asked me about my interest. At the end of the conversation, she told me that a few people had come to her directly and told her that I would make a great worship leader. I was both baffled and encouraged. I had told very few people about my interest in the position; but it was also a good sign that my peers were endorsing me on their own.
It was Tuesday, March 30, 2010. I skipped the lunchtime musical practice to audition for worship leader in front of the student government. In addition to the usual speech, this year's audition also required candidates to lead the student government in a song. I gave a five-minute speech which I had loosely prepared for in which I explained where my desire came from and what I wanted to implement as worship leader. Then I led the student government in "Jesus Paid it All". I left the audition feeling fine. It was nothing spectacular, but as I thought, it was all in God's hands then.
On Friday, April 2, Good Friday, I was supposed to give "Noticias del Día" in Period 1 Spanish IV. I was nervous--not because I had to speak in Spanish in front of fifteen of my classmates, but because they were announcing the results of the student government elections on the intercom with the morning announcements.
"Worship leader is Jonathan Lim."
My heart did not stop pounding, even as the announcements finished and I walked up to the front of the room. My friend Curtis mouthed to me, "I'm sorry." I mouthed back, "It's fine."
At break, Dawn and I were chatting. Apparently she had missed the announcement. She was one of the ones that knew I wanted to go for worship leader. When she heard that Jonathan had won the position, she was indignant. "What!? You could do such a better job!" She was more upset about it than I was.
Melanie found me later in the day. She said it was neither my speech nor my song that didn't get me the position. She still wanted me to be involved with the worship team, so she asked me to audition for the worship team. I declined. I didn't perceive myself as good enough at guitar alone or at singing alone to provide only one of those talents. I could provide both, together, halfway decently, coupled with the leadership aspect, and that was all I was willing to give. I also knew that Mrs. Hazelrigg--the choir director--Melanie, and Travis--the favorite son of the music department--would be involved in deciding who comprised the worship team, and I did not want to be subject to their scrutiny.
The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. Jonathan had never demonstrated any evidence that he had any musical ability. Conversely, I had been in the school's top choir, the Abundant Life Singers, for two years. Historically, the worship leader had never not been a member of ALS, probably because second period (when ALS was scheduled) always followed chapel, so the worship leader could return all the musical equipment to the music room and not miss a more academic class.
But most of my unhappiness came from the fact that I had managed to convince myself that worship leader was what God wanted for me. I thought I had seen so many signs pointing to that path. I began to think that the student government went against what God wanted. Enmity toward the student government, toward Jonathan, and toward Melanie began to build within me.
Church
I took some solace in the thought that I could still lead worship at my youth group.
I had sung in the church's youth group band twice. The first time was when I showed up on my own, and the second time was the following week, when Cory, the worship leader asked me to return. I was never scheduled to return again. Each week, I received an email from Cory with the list of musicians for the following Sunday. And each week, my name was not on the list. It bothered me that I was not able to demonstrate my ability and interest in the worship team; but I also knew that the youth group didn't have much of a choice for the following year's worship leader selection. The current worship band consisted entirely of graduating seniors, with the exception of one terrible vocalist and one electric guitar player, Brent. So I continued refining my skills on guitar, even though I had been rejected for the position at school.
Berean
One evening in June 2010, I had a hard time coping with my Berean worship leader defeat. I wanted a reason. So I reached out to Melanie on Facebook. I asked her what it was that disqualified me, if it was neither my speech nor my song. Her response, saturated with agitation, was that it was nothing personal against me; that student government collectively decided that Jonathan would be a better fit; and that I should talk to the student government adviser, because it was not her place to say.
Less than a week later, she deleted me as a Facebook friend.
Church
One Sunday in early June 2010, Cory was out of town. This is my chance to step up, I thought. So I offered to lead the youth group worship that Sunday. Cory left behind no instructions, no guidance, no access to sheet music. So of course none of the electrical equipment worked that morning, and I was left scrambling to figure out what to do in front of my peers and my youth pastor. It felt as though I had been deliberately set up for failure.
Brent and I got together another Saturday that summer to practice for Sunday's worship. As we were leaving his house, his mom called out, suggesting that I lead worship for the youth group during the school year. She said it seemed logical, as I was graduating and Brent was only an incoming sophomore. I admitted that I had been hoping to step into that role. The understanding at the end of that conversation was that Brent and I agreed that I could be worship leader that year, and then Brent could take over after I left.
I brought my guitar with me to camp that summer. Almost every night, I played and sang worship songs as my campers were supposed to be falling asleep. I co-led songs with Michael in front of campfire a few times. I took advantage of every opportunity I could get to practice my worship leading skills.
Then, in a communication that I had with my recently appointed youth pastor during late July, I was told that Brent was worship leader. I ignored the issue for weeks. Brent has zero singing ability and he's a sophomore--of course he's not worship leader. I kept thinking that there was going to be an application process, an open audition for those who wanted the position.
It was September 2010. I was a month into my senior year at Berean. I had been playing on the youth group worship team nearly every week. There was no audition.
I had been snubbed.
I later learned that over the previous year, Cory had apparently been "training" and "grooming" Brent--who was a freshman--to take over for him. He had never approached me about the issue. Conversely, I was unaware that I needed to ask him about it. Evidently, worship leadership was an insiders club that was invite-only.
And, evidently, Brent went back on our soft agreement that I could be worship leader that year.
So all that time I spent practicing was for naught? I thought. Why did I bring my guitar to camp?
I had been snubbed.
Berean
Jonathan's worship leading was mediocre. His team was the worst out of the four teams I had seen during my time at Berean. Each week during chapel, I identified something he did that either was a mistake or that I disliked. And each week, it did not get any less painful for me.
In October 2010, I was notified that there was a leadership-based scholarship application open. Only one student from Berean would be permitted to apply, so I completed a "pre-application." The College and Career Counselor would use these pre-applications to decide who would actually get to submit the application. Jonathan and I were the two pre-application finalists. The Counselor met with both of us together. She said that we were equally qualified; however, they gave the opportunity to apply to Jonathan because he had the official title of "worship leader."
I had been snubbed.
Church
I felt guilty. Had my parents wasted money getting me that guitar for Christmas?
I desperately held onto the wildest imagination of hope I could come up with: that if I talked to my youth pastor, he would replace Brent and put me in the position for which I had pined for so long. That hope was dashed to pieces in November when I heard the youth pastor describe his vision of having Brent as worship leader for the next three years of his high school career. He stated his intention of watching Brent grow and improve in the position. Why would you want a crappy worship band now, I thought, when I can already sing?
Berean
I spoke with a school friend of mine about my struggle to get over not being selected for worship leader. I asked her if she thought it would be worthwhile for me to talk to the student government advisor to get closure.
"Do you know why they chose Jonathan?"
"No."
"Student government said that during his audition, they felt the Holy Spirit in the room."
That changed the game for me. It broke my assumption that worship leader was what God wanted for me. Why did no one tell me this? I thought. That could have saved me six months of anguish.
Church
In December 2010, I told my youth pastor that I was quitting the worship team. I couldn't take it anymore. It was too painful.
Seriously, had my parents wasted money getting me that guitar?
* * *
I wish there were a better way to end this story. But any ending that neatly ties the story together and resolves everything is merely fictional.
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