What color are the jokers eyes

So apparently it doesn't take much reading of fanfic to develop strong opinions about it. I just started reading Dark Knight fanfiction about a month ago - and I don't generally read fanfic, either. I was missing Heath Ledger and feeling pretty down about his death; how would you cope? But this is a problem for me:

It's not even close. I can't even chalk this one up to differences in color perception, because even someone completely colorblind could tell that Heath Ledger did not have green eyes. I can understand not knowing off the top of one's head what color eyes the Joker had in Dark Knight, as it's not something I usually notice, and the paint around his eyes obscures it, but that's not really an excuse. It's not like pictures of Heath Ledger are very difficult to find.

I don't know why this bugs me so much. I think I'm just intrigued by the audacity of someone going, "Yeah, that Heath Ledger guy made a pretty good Joker, but you know what he needed? Green eyes!" Meh. From what I understand, the logic of it is that the Joker had green eyes in the comics, but honestly he ends up with red eyes a lot, like a rat. Check it out. It especially amuses me immediately besides his listing of green eye color is a picture of him with red eyes.

Maybe brown hair and brown eyes just don't seem special enough, or maybe he somehow had the soul of someone with blonde hair and blue eyes because I've found more than one person who was convinced that was accurate despite all photographic evidence which brings me to my point, which has nothing to do with Heath Ledger at all. It's about how, in fiction and in real life, we neatly stack people into categories for hair and eye color, pretending it's not at all arbitrary and transient. Around here, eye and hair color are listed on photo IDs.

(And I'm not at all comfortable with that. My eye color has been listed about three different ways, to begin with; is that really my identity? If I dye my hair red, do I become a different person?)

And in fiction, people are often identified with a hair color and an eye color. Everyone knows Harry Potter has jet black hair and green eyes; we know because we are told that a hundred times. Ron has red hair, Hermione has brown hair, Draco is blond. But if they existed in real life, I'm sure there'd be some jagoff out there convinced that Harry has blue eyes, or that Ron is strawberry blond, or that Ginny really has light brown hair and Harry's hair is actually very dark brown. This is without going into the changes that aging and different lighting and hair-styling brings, which are enormous.

My point is if you say "Mike Smith had brown hair and blue eyes," you are attempting to represent a complex reality with a statement so simple it's a lie. But still, while I'm at it:

Seriously.

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I've had bad dreams three nights in a row. Not quite nightmares, but stress dreams.

Dream #1: My parents wanted to do something that was stupid. They knew it was stupid and unpopular, so they decided to put it to a fake vote, putting the ballot on the refrigerator, but it was a rubber-stamp election and everyone knew it. I unleashed my frustration on the ballet, underlining the sexist and stupid statements explaining the new policies in red and adding my own comments, but it didn't make me feel better.

I got ready to leave the house, even though it was already pretty late, but my dad said I couldn't leave. I was already frustrated. Something nagged at me; something was wrong about this situation. My mom told me to just take my cell phone and call them every ten minutes, but everyone ignored her because it's my mom and women are devalued in this house, and secondly the cell phone thing wasn't from my teenage years anyway. That was

gilesleary's past. I was mixing them up.

I said that he couldn't stop me. "I'm an adult," I said. I struggled to remember my age or my name. "I'm twenty-three." Yes, I was 23. "You can't stop me from leaving whenever I want and if you try again I will call 911 and report you for false imprisonment, to start with."

They laughed at me. I was cold. I was wearing shorts, and an oversized long-sleeve shirt because I was cold. I never dress like that and it was making me feel uneasy."Do you think I'm afraid of you?" my dad said. "Nobody is going to listen to you. You can't call for help because no one cares. And it doesn't matter how old you are; you're female. Females have to do what the male says."Then I woke up and realized what was nagging me. I don't live at home anymore. That's an old fear that doesn't apply anymore. Still I felt uneasy.

Dream #2: I was driving the van when I was in an accident. I thought it was the other car's fault, but I had been distracted when it happened. I was distracted because I was lost, and I didn't know where to go to get unlost. The children also distracted me. Now they were hurt; whiplash from the impact, and some of them were already whining. They weren't scared. They were mad. They knew I couldn't do it, that I wasn't competent enough to do this. "You can't do anything right, Rebecca," they started to say. "You can't even drive the dumb van. Now look at us." My youngest brother was bleeding from the nose.

I couldn't leave the van where it was, and I couldn't comfort the kids from the driver's seat. I didn't know what to do, so I drove home again. Let them bleed and cry until we reached our destination. I left them in their safety seats, strapped down and unable to free themselves, and went inside to try to explain the situation to my mother, but she just didn't understand. The words weren't making sense to her. I didn't have time for this, though I was sure the children weren't in any danger of bleeding to death. I had a nagging feeling I needed to get them out of the car as soon as I could. My mother kept asking if I had called the police, something about a witness or insurance or anything. "No, it was the other car's fault," I explained. "So their insurance will cover it. We could sue them." But I didn't get what she was saying.

When I woke up I remembered that it's illegal to drive away from an accident; you're supposed to pull over and call the police. It really bothered me that I had forgotten this in my dream. I had committed a dream hit-and-run. I think that's a dream felony. It's only as I write this that I realize that I also left kids in the car, which you're also never supposed to do. I swear I behave better when awake.

Dream #3: Rachel Maddow (or Rachel Re: as everyone was calling her) was shot, and my parents were behind it. Well, that's not entirely true, they were just part of the organization that was responsible for planning, threatening, and then carrying out this crime. They hadn't loaded the bullets into the gun or pulled the trigger, but I knew that they were, in some small way, responsible for it and it made me sick. I watched it on TV, crying. I realized that I hadn't watched her last show and that she would never make another one again. I realized that I hadn't been watching it for weeks now. I realized I would never meet her or talk with her, that death was horrifying final. And then I was hauled in before people and they demanded an explanation from me, demanded I explain my parents' actions, but more importantly give some kind of coherent explanation for the entire organization and everything they stood for and why they did what they did.

"It's not because they're homophobic," I began, because that was the speculation, and then I realized I was stumbling badly. "I mean they are but that's not the reason they hated Rachel. Well, I think they did hate her for that, but it wasn't an over-weening, murderous hate, it was an I'll-let-you-stay-in-the-guest-house-and-act-friendly-to-you-but-I'm-also-going-to-say-things-about-you-behind-your-back kind of hatred. I don't think they hate lesbians that much, especially if they were family. And it wasn't because she was a liberal, because they can put up with that. They have liberal friends. Or because she was a woman.

"It was the things she said, not the actual words but the fact that she spoke her mind and didn't censor herself. She was just so blatantly, unapologetically, herself, and they couldn't stand that. That had to be stopped. But she couldn't be intimidated so they had to kill her. But I can't explain what everybody thought because I don't know. I don't know what my parents were thinking, really. You're demanding an explanation from me like I have magical powers, but I don't. It's just speculation. These people are not hard to understand. You want them to be alien, you want them to be different, but they're not. They're just like you. They are you."

When I woke up, I wasn't sure that it was just a dream.

I know what the dreams mean. But I don't like this.

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♦Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people right now.♣Day Two: Nine things about yourself.♥Day Three: Eight ways to win your heart.♦Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.♠Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.♣Day Six: Five people who mean a lot.♥Day Seven: Four turn offs.♦Day Eight: Three turn ons.♠Day Nine: Two smileys that describe your life right now.♣Day Ten: One confession.Damn, I want to do a meme, but this one is kind of stupid. Let's see if I can't improve it:*Day One: Ten random MP3s and how you feel about them.*Day Two: Nine things you want to say to people.*Day Three: Eight things you're avoiding.*Day Four: Seven regrets.*Day Five: Six loves.*Day Six: Five hates.*Day Seven: Four turn offs.*Day Eight: Three turn ons.*Day Nine: Two unpopular opinions.*Day Ten: One religious belief.Ha ha ha! I love messing with things.1. "I Put A Spell On You," Creedence Clearwater RevivalLook, I love the original song, by Screamin' Jay Hawkins, which is bluesy and rock'n'roll. This cover sucks. I only have it on my Zune because it was on CCR's "greatest hits" cd and I haven't deleted it yet. And yeah, I have the original on my MP3 player, so I don't need this one.The original is a great song, though. It reminds me of living in Memphis, and Halloween; rough sex, cigarette smoke, the aftertaste of beer; haunted voodoo dolls, lucky rabbit's feet, crawfish gumbo, cheerful longing; unending, unsated, unabated, unrequited lust. Now I hope that the original doesn't come up in the next nine songs, or I'll feel like a ninny.2. "The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill," the BeatlesI have a lot of Beatles songs.

Yoko's on this track, and she sounds pretty awful, but that's Yoko for you, right? Anyway, this song is about big-game hunting and it's pretty straightforward. It reminds me of the earliest Tintin comic books, where he went to Africa, spread the message of colonialism, and blew up a rhinoceros with TNT. That happened. I think big game hunting was one of the most pathetic dick-measuring contests to ever occur.

3. "Hovering Sombrero," They Might Be GiantsI also have a lot of TMBG.I've heard it claimed that sombreros are inherently funny.4. "High Life," Daft Punk

This is from Discovery, the album that they made into an anime movie for no apparent reason. This isn't my favorite song from the album, but it's okay. It's just that I can't understand what the singer is saying. Sometimes it sounds like "Viacom." Sometimes like "Buy a bong." Sometimes like "Varna phone." Or "Barna foam." Or maybe "Va na bomb." Maybe it's French. I dunno. Only three syllables in this song, repeated like a hundred times, and I can't understand it.

5. "Dinosaurs," BonoboOoh, I've never heard this song!Well, that was interesting. I liked the sample at the beginning.6. "Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Part I-V)," Pink FloydStand back, people! This one is thirteen and a half minutes long!

My brother got me hooked on Pink Floyd. All their songs sound the same to me, but they all sound like a song I like, so that's okay. True story: I thought that the lyrics were "Shine on, you crazy guy." For years. They let me have a driver's license, y'all.

7. "The Joker," Steve MillerWhy is there a wah-wah noise after he says "Some people call me Maurice"? Maurice is a perfectly acceptable name. And what is the pompetous of love and how do you speak of it?Not gonna lie, I only have this one because it amuses me to imagine the Batman villain singing it. Actually goes back to my childhood, when I didn't know how dirty it was. "You're the cutest thing that I ever did see. / Really love your peaches, want to shake your tree."Mmmm.8. "Man of Constant Sorrow," O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack

This soundtrack sold like ... like the Soggy Bottom Brothers' hit single "Man Of Constant Sorrow." My mother owns a copy. My mother owns a copy. If you lived in the South and were of a certain age, you had to have this, even if you thought that the movie had too much cussing in it. Profanity isn't clever, but that's just how Hollywood does it. Yeah, the movie was a little foul-mouthed, but that old-timey music hit the spot, didn't it? They don't make country music like this anymore!

So, yeah. My grandparents (on both sides, I believe) have this album, as well as ... everyone else that I know. With the possible exceptions of cheapriboflavin and aesiron, just because they like to be contrary like that.

I'm not sure if the Coen brothers were paying homage to or making fun of people who like old-timey country music; probably the latter, but the liner notes are completely sincere. But then again, the Coen brothers didn't write the liner notes. I want to be a Coen brother when I grow up.9. "Speak to Me/Breathe," Pink FloydSounds exactly like "Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Part I-V)."10. "(She Was A) Hotel Detective," They Might Be GiantsI feel like I'm missing the joke on this one. And I usually understand TMBG, because I'm faux-intellectual. "She's a hotel detective / Why don't you / check her out," the chorus goes, and it's almost a pun. Like, you check out of hotels, maybe, when you leave them. Though of course you don't check out with the hotel detective, who probably leaves you alone unless you commit a hotel crime. Anyway, TMBG has a minor obsession with this hotel detective. They also have a (completely different) song called "She Was A Hotel Detective", and then "She Was A Hotel Detective In The Future," which I don't have a copy of but was released on their podcast.

Anyway, it's a rockin' song that always reminds me of this episode of Monk about a hotel detective (check 'er out!) because my mind is literal like that. "That's why I want to know you!"

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♠Day One: Ten random MP3s and how you feel about them.
♠Day Two: Nine things you want to say to people.♠Day Three: Eight things you're avoiding.♠Day Four: Seven regrets.♠Day Five: Six loves.♠Day Six: Five hates.♠Day Seven: Four turn offs.♠Day Eight: Three turn ons.♠Day Nine: Two unpopular opinions.♠Day Ten: One religious belief.九: I got drunk last night, on ... some ... weird wine stuff? I don't even know. The thing is, I really liked how it tasted, so I drank one and a half glasses in about five minutes, and I would have had more when I abruptly realized my vision was blurring and I needed to lay down. You would have laughed so hard. We need to girl-chat on Google, young lady. I have even more to tell you, which I durst not put on the livejournal.八: I think I was a lousy student, but you seemed to really like me. And not in a creepy way, of course. You weren't the only one to encourage me or talk to me after class, but you were the most attached to me. And I was such a jerk. The thing is ... I was going crazy. I really was. I was barely able to pretend to function. I'm pretty open and willing to talk about it, but there are some things I can't explain even to myself, much less everyone else. And I don't know if explaining this to you will make you feel uncomfortable, or if you even care, and I don't want to bother you. 七: I don't understand you. I never have. I expect one day I will wake up, when I'm forty, and then suddenly you will make perfect sense. I also don't like you very much. But I love you.

六: I think you think that I think that you're stupid. I don't, and I never have. I know you're smarter than me and I'm a big enough woman to admit I'm jealous of that, though not as much as you seem to think. I also think you'd be a pretty cool person if you weren't so thoroughly awful to me. I don't know what your problem is, but it's hardly fair to take it out on me.

Did I ever hurt you? If so, I've completely forgotten about it. That probably enrages you, that to you it was hugely significant, but to me it was Tuesday. I've basically given up on placating you, even not provoking you, and I've resorted to low-impact avoidance. Because, seriously, you seem to hate me in a completely irrational way, and you are the only person who can do anything about it.

五: I love the way you write sentences. I'm studying you.四: (Oh noes! the number of death!) Sometimes I can't believe we share the same genes. Because you are getting ripped. Like, how do you do that. I guess it all comes down to hormones, because honestly. I know it's not genes.三: You should probably stop drinking.ニ: I have run out of things to say.

一: Whatever.

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♠Day One: Ten random MP3s and how you feel about them.♠Day Two: Nine things you want to say to people.

♠Day Three: Eight things you're avoiding.

♠Day Four: Seven regrets.♠Day Five: Six loves.♠Day Six: Five hates.♠Day Seven: Four turn offs.♠Day Eight: Three turn ons.♠Day Nine: Two unpopular opinions.♠Day Ten: One religious belief.Well, this oughta be easy.1. I overdrew my checking account ... I guess two weeks ago, and I need to go deposit money from my other account in the bank. I am avoiding this because I don't want to talk to a teller and don't know how to do drive-by deposits if such a thing even exists.2. I need to tell my mom to send me my winter clothes because I'm cold.3. I need to buy new underwear. Like, I already bought some cheap sets from Wal-Mart, but as it turns out, their sizes for cute pairs only go up to 8. I mean, Wal-Mart considers my butt to be plus-sized. It's kind of weird, because I usually wear medium tops and I'm wearing size 10 jeans, which aren't usually in the plus size department. I shouldn't have been buying underwear from Wal-Mart anyway.4. I need to go to Walgreens and buy ... whatever's good for nipple cream.5. I guess before I do that I need to research nipple cream. Hey, I live in the desert. My skin is dry.6. Ugh. I guess I have to call my mom, too, just to talk ... I don't know why I'm dreading this one. I usually enjoy our conversations! I just hate the phone.7. There's two surprise items I need to order from the Internet, but it's such a pain, entering my credit card information. Seriously. I hate that part. It would probably go faster if I just memorized the number already, right?

8. I have to go return some videotapes. /obscure joke