Alyssa Rosenberg has got me thinking about Game of Thrones and its portrayal of disability in a rigidly hierarchical society. She writes:

But one of the things the Game of Thrones universe does best is to shake up the fantastical expectation that it’s reasonably easy for unusual people and people with unusual ambitions to make a place for themselves in rigid societies. The show insists that its difficult enough to fit into pre-approved roles if they’re available to you, and even harder to find a place for yourself if you’re unlucky enough not to slot into a pre-approved role at all.

The series features two primary characters with disabilities: Bran and Tyrion. Bran becomes a paraplegic after a tragic fall and Tyrion is a dwarf (reasonable people can argue whether dwarfism is a disability, but it clearly is viewed as such by the denizens of Westeros). Both are lucky enough to be members of wealthy nobility, which offers them distinct advantages in a society whose regard of people with disabilities is decidedly medieval. In one early episode, Tyrion, upon hearing of Bran’s injury, remarks, “If you’re going to be a cripple, it’s better to be a rich cripple.” But even their families’ wealth cannot completely compensate for their status as outsiders. Both Bran and Tyrion, despite their difference in years, are keenly aware that they will always be objects of pity and scorn.

How Bran and Tyrion cope with their outsider gimp status is one of the more interesting narrative threads to be found in the series. Tyrion embraces his otherness, throwing it back in the faces of potential tormentors while unapologetically living the life of a bon vivant. Tyrion also treads perilously close to becoming a disability caricature. His only sexual relations are with whores and he seems to have completely ruled out any chance of having a relationship with a woman that isn’t based on commerce. Despite his best efforts to the contrary, Tyrion seems to have accepted his outsider status to a certain extent. Bran’s path has yet to be explored with the same depth (something that the next book will hopefully remedy), but both the show and the books hint that he has some untapped second sight dwelling within him. Bran also experiences some of the depression and loss that accompanies an acquired disability.

Along with Arya, Bran and Tyrion are two of the most sympathetic characters in the series’ sprawling cast. The world they inhabit is one much more hostile to disability than ours, but their efforts to find a place in the world ring true for gimps like me.

Mike Huckabee, potential presidential candidate and defender of national wholesomeness, is concerned that our kids are learning American history all wrong. Rather than learning that America is the bestest country ever, our youth are being taught that America has sometimes exhibited questionable judgment and poor impulse control. Huckabee’s counterweight to all those ponytailed hippies teaching history: cartoons about time travel! Kids will understand the true significance of the Reagan Revolution after watching it through the eyes of a bunch of time-traveling Young Republicans.

I feel deep pity for kids trapped with the kind of parents who would order this stuff. If the preview is any indication, even the animation is laughably awful. As for the content, it’s the standard Reagan=Jesus propaganda that conservatives can never seem to get enough of. I’m pretty sure the hippie history teacher has nothing to worry about. Unless Huckabee becomes president.

I’m at my computer and debating whether to move away from my windows. Sirens were going off a little while ago and the skies were looking a little queasy. I think the immediate danger has passed, but summer has apparently arrived in Minnesota. Last summer was notable for the frequency of violent weather around these parts and we seem to be wasting no time in following the same pattern this year.

Republicans in the Minnesota Legislature seem distracted as of late. They should be finalizing budget bills and opening negotiations with the governor. Instead, they’ve allowed themselves to be distracted with efforts to ban gay marriage, impose voter identification requirements, and getting into disputes with local authors. Republican legislator Matt Dean recently singled out novelist Neil Gaiman for accepting a $45,000 speaking fee from a local library that was paid out the state’s conservation and arts legacy fund. Dean put it more succinctly when he said that Gaiman is a “pencil-necked little weasel who stole $45,000 from the state.”

Gaiman responded to the charges on his blog, pointing out that he charged his customary speaking fee and donated all of the money to charity. I’m a big fan of Gaiman’s writing and I’ll admit that he comes across quite better in the blog post than the Strib article in which he sounds just a tad pompous. That may just be selective editing, though. The library might have exercised a little more thoughtfulness about the politics of paying a substantial speaking fee with public dollars, but it’s hardly an offense that should provoke name-calling. Even though our citizen legislators work on a part-time basis, a modicum of decorum that exceeds schoolyard standards should be expected.

Duncan Jones wrote and directed a smart indie science fiction movie titled Moon that attracted some critical praise a couple years ago. Source Code is Jones’ big-budget debut and it’s notable for how skillfully it melds action-movie brawn with the brains and heart of geekier fare. The movie begins Army captain Colter Stevens waking up on a commuter train and sitting across from a young woman he doesn’t recognize, but who seems to know him. He has no memory of how he got there and he soon discovers that he’s occupying a stranger’s body. Before he can figure out what’s going on, the train ride comes to an abrupt and grim end.

Colter wakes again to find himself in something resembling a space capsule and speaking to another military officer via a video screen. She informs him that he is part of a military project whose urgent mission is to identify the individual who bombed that same train earlier in the day. The man whose body he inhabits in the simulation died in the bombing and Colter is interfacing with that man’s recovered memories to recreate those last few minutes on the train. The movie is essentially a locked-room puzzle and Jones gives the viewer several false clues before revealing both the identity of the bomber and the true scope of Colter’s predicament.

It’s a clever story, but the characters are what gives the movie its weight. Gyllenhaal is certainly a dashing presence and he has the acting chops to convey the fear and confusion he feels throughout his mission. Jones also wraps up the story with a resolution that any science fiction afficionado will see coming long before most of the audience, but it’s still effective and even a little moving.