When is Third Number One?

On Christmas day, I received the third best gift possible.

If you had seen it, it wouldn’t have seemed as such. It wasn’t some fancy sport scar, trip to your dream location, or even a winning lottery ticket.  Nope, it was just an old action figure.

Specifically, it was a Mister Freeze figure from the Batman animated series.  It’s around 10-15 years old and still in its package.  Not even really a collector’s item.  But when I saw this, I broke down a little and teared up with gratitude.

You see, while there is no big demand for the figure, there is also not many of them to find easily.  I have been looking for some time for him- since I have always liked the character and the action feature this one had-and have never really had much luck acquiring him.  It was as more a joke than anything that I had put him on my wish list for Christmas.  Usually I just ask for gift cards, but I occasionally throw a ‘left field’ request in; a pony, a full sized drivable Back to the Future Delorean… or a Mister Freeze action figure.  I am always content with whatever I get, since I appreciate the thought.  Also, as I mentioned before, it’s more about what I can do for others than what is done for me.

But once in a great while it works in reverse.

It wasn’t the figure itself that caused the happy breakdown- it was what it represented.  It showed me that someone took a good amount of time and effort tracking this down for me.  It was someone really looking for something that was special.  It was someone looking beyond the easy and convenient to try for a bit more for this sad excuse for a human being. It was showing me that despite everything, people can and do pay attention to others, making the world- to me- a better place.

It was a renewal of the hope I sometimes find so lacking in myself.

So I thank you, Lois.  I don’t know if you knew how I felt receiving this.  Sometimes I have a hard time articulating thoughts when I am not being writing them down.  While I say this is the third best gift I could receive, this is not meant as an insult in any way.  Rather, since the two things I want more than anything this time of year (and most of my life in general) are impossible/improbable, it’s actually the main thing I want.  It was far better than I wished for, and possibly better than I deserved.

Not bad for an action figure, eh?

One

This is not going to be a happy post. I apologize in advance.

 Some of you may know that this is not my favorite time of the year. Some may even know why. The simple fact is that long ago I have given up trying to find real joy for myself this season. There are only two things I want that could change everything for me during this time, but I will never get them; one because it is truly impossible, the other so highly improbable that it might as well also be impossible.

 So until the day comes around that time travel becomes possible, I do the next best thing: I try to spread a little joy and happiness to others. You see, to me this time of year should be when hope for humanity is renewed. So I work to do that, even though mine is dangerously low. People should have reasons to laugh, to experience wonder, to forget their woes- to get that hope for humanity. To further that I don the mantel of Pagliacci.

 I try to spread joy to others, be it with humorous photos and cards (which I admit are a creative yet fun challenge to create), gifts to show that someone actually pays attention, offering assistance to those in need, to just being there for people. I could be a bitter person, full of bile during the holiday season, but I want others to feel better. I want them happy. I want them to see that the world is not all bad; that things can be good… to have some hope for the world. I figure if I work hard enough at helping others enjoy the season, just maybe some of it will rub off onto me.

 Some may think I am doing it wrong, that I shouldn’t hide my feelings for the sake of others. Maybe they are right, but I feel that it is better to do this than the alternative. The world already has enough trying to drag it down.

 Despite my darkness, I will fight for the light.

Two

People who know me may know that I am always really appreciative if I am given something, be it an actual item or even a simple act of kindness. What they probably don’t know is why.

For a long time I have never revealed this, because people may think that I am too cynical. But you can’t just keep things bottled up. I have tried, but things like this fester, growing and eating at you and your psyche. So I write it out. Sometimes I publish these thoughts. More often I don’t. What will be the fate of this one? Right now I have no idea…

In these now four decades of life, I have learned many things, both for good or for ill. One of the more… realist things I have learned and taken to heart is this:

 NEVER expect anything from anyone.

 You are not entitled to anything- you have to earn it yourself. Don’t think that the goodness of others will bail you out. Never count on people to return favors. I have no expectations of people ever paying me back, it’s all pretty much written off. Once I adopted this philosophy, life became far less disappointing. But despite this, I will still go out of my way to help others, being as giving and as generous as I can be. Just because many choose not to give doesn’t mean I have to do the same.

 So when someone does give me something, I am truly touched. It could mean that they too see fit to fight the inherent selfishness of humanity. Maybe they realize that we’re all we got. Could be that while they know we as humans have to make our own happy ending, it never hurts to offer a little assistance along the way. Or maybe it’s just not a big deal to give… to share. And I find that one of the best reasons of all, and I look forward to the day when I am not surprised to receive anything. Until that day I will continue on this path.

 I thank you for reading.

Torchwood: Miracle Day the review...FINALLY

Sometimes I tend to forget myself.

When I first decided to write a review of Torchwood:  Miracle Day (T:MD) I was going to go very thorough and create it for someone who has very little knowledge of the series.  And somewhere in that I got lost. I should have taken notice when I exceeded 5 pages and had not even gotten to the actual review.  But it wasn’t until I figured to break it into three parts of at least ten pages apiece that I realized I was going way overboard.

So I stepped away.

Did other activities.

Waited for my focus to sharpen again… which I think it has.  So now let’s do this.

I am going to assume that if you are reading this, then you have had at least some knowledge of the show.  So there is no need to rehash the particulars.  T:MD  takes place a year or two after Torchwood:  Miracle Day.  Torchwood is dead, Gwen and Rhys are in hiding with their daughter, Captain Jack Harkness is no longer on Earth, and our world continues along in its usual routine- until people stop dying.  And a single word appears on intelligence computers:

 “Torchwood”.

 

The ten episodes follow the newly (and barely) reformed Torchwood as it tries to figure out what is happening and how to fix the problem.  A potentially gripping tale that would be willing to show the ramifications of a population that would no longer decrease and how to deal with it.  A noble effort, to be sure…

But it’s not QUITE what they ended up with.

To sum up T:MD in one word it would be ‘uneven’.  Brilliant highs, idiotic lows, and the one thing that nearly killed it:  Horrendous pacing of the first half of the series.  Let me put it this way:  I counted the days until the next episode of Children of Earth came out and would watch the episode twice.  Miracle Day I stopped watching it after episode 5 and didn’t resume for nearly 2 months.  I know they were trying to portray how the most likely scenario would play out, and a lot worked.  But oh Great Jebus, did it get tedious until episode 5.  There were other faults as well, but the pacing was the worst offender.

Now what I would like to talk about is some of the particulars of the series- what I liked, what I didn't, and what could have been done to improve the series.  To start off, let me talk about the one thing that would have dramatically improved this:

 Shorten the arc from 10 episodes to 7 (or 6).

 

They could have made a far tighter thrilling story if instead of making the entire season about Miracle Day, they had a couple stand alone episodes showing off the history of Torchwood.  This would have served two purposes- give newer watchers a sense of why Torchwood is how it is, and returning viewers a chance to see some of the old crew back in action.  To see an episode featuring Jack, Gwen, Owen, Toshiko and Ianto together again would have been a great treat.  Hell, they could have even had the single episodes tangentially connect to Miracle Day.  Rework the episode where Jack meets Angelo Colasanto into a stand alone whose importance to the arc becomes revealed later on.  I am just saying having the viewer realize that the 'filler' episodes were anything but would have been a great idea.

Speaking of Angelo, while that story arc was great to have for Jack, I kind of miss the 'ominsexual' tendencies he had.  One of the funnier running jokes in the series was that he would hit on anything that moves, and that no one was quite sure what his preferences were.  It's not a big thing, it just feels that a lot of potential was lost by making Jack strictly going for males of the species.  (It also fits, since it seems Jack still is mourning Ianto, which was a nice touch...)

Another small nitpick was the character of Ellis Hartley Monroe, the female politician seen trying to take advantage of Miracle Day.  I guess it is trendy to mock members of the 'tea party' movement, but this was rather petty and actually went against some of what the movement is about.  The character was wanting the government to get involved with this situation and to stop the pharmaceutical companies from profiting on this.  But since the tea party advocates for less government intrusion on people's lives and in business, it doesn't really work.  I would rather have seen her character be more motivated by religious reasons instead, because the moral majority seems more in line with her character.

While I loved Bill Pullman in this series, I got the feeling that they didn't quite know how to end his story arc in this series.  You have this great character who is the face of Miracle Day who is also a complete monster and how messed up our world becomes that he becomes that symbol.  And in the end they fumbled him.  (Don't get me wrong, his ending was pretty damned good and creepy.  It just seemed they had to find a way for him to be in the climax.)

One thing I really liked was that while in C.O.E. we see the evil that the bureaucratic governments were willing to do to restore order, in M.D. we see the results if we the people allow them to do it.  A place where people who are still living (at least technically) are incinerated 'for the greater good' is at first met with shock and disgust, but soon accepted and even expanded (class 0).  Where government workers terrorize the populace while 'doing their job'.  It was a frightening vision... and one we have unfortunately have become used to.

I will conclude this section by talking about two final things I wasn't a big fan of.  First, the overall story.  While I liked the idea of the series, in the end it really didn't make me feel this was  a story about Torchwood.  A few minor changes, it could have been an X-Files, Fringe, 24 or CSI story.  Granted, the whole 'not dying' thing would be a bit much on the more reality-based shows, but Torchwood was always about defending the Earth (and England specifically) from threats external to Earth.  C.O.E. showed this to great effect.  Miracle Day just didn't.  It was almost a bit TOO domestic.

The second thing I just could not really stand was the character of Esther Drummond.  I know that they wanted to have a relative novice in there to have someone for us to relate to, but did they HAVE to make her a complete tool?  It's almost as if she had a checklist of every stupid newbie mistake to make that she had to complete for her to win a kewpie doll.  I was mad when she finally died JUST because it took so long.

So was it worth watching?  I guess.  It is not the worst Torchwood has to offer, but it is also nowhere near the best.  And while it sets up a sequel hook with some potential, I just right now don't know if I would watch it.  I had high hopes for this, and I was let down by the amount of unevenness.  A shame...

Final thing on this:  one avenue I would have loved to see them explore because of its potential implications is the pregnancy situation.  How would no human dying have effected the right to life/ right to choose debate?  It would have been daring, even pretty controversial, but since they went to a lot of controversial places already, why not one more?

So there you have it.  I condensed 20 or so pages down into three.  I cut a LOT of fat, and hopefully got across most of the points I wanted to make.  Hopefully I made it a decent read, but if I didn't, well then I will have to try a lot harder next time...

Hugo

I decided today to go see a movie today; to get out of the house for something other than shopping for supplies and gifts for the upcoming holiday.  I had two choices that were high on my list:  Muppets and Hugo.  The theater I was going to see either at was next to where I was going to shop, so I checked the times and headed over.  Muppets was to show at 1:40, Hugo at 1:50, and since I arrived about 1:30. Muppets it would be…

But since this post is titled 'Hugo'  you can guess what happened.  I read the times wrong.  Muppets would be on at 2:40.

So I bought my ticket and headed in, avoiding the refreshment stand (after paying nearly $15 for a MATINEE show, I was rather less than willing to give them anymore money.).  Sat down and waited for the show to begin.

Hugo is Martin Scorsese’s newest film.  Set in a Paris train station in the 1930’s, it is about Hugo Cabret, a young boy whose parents have both died (at different times) who’s drunken uncle apprentices him in the ways of keeping the station clocks running.  Since Hugo’s dad was an expert clockmaker who taught him the ways of his craft, Hugo quickly learned the ins and outs of his uncle’s job- who then promptly left him to do the work so he could go out drinking.  Alone, he does the station’s work, avoiding the security to steal food and assorted parts for his special project:  an automaton his father had found in the museum he worked at that they had been restoring together before a fire at the museum he worked at claimed his life.  It’s the stealing of parts that starts the main story, since he was nicking clockwork pieces from a toymaker who had a shop in station- a man who is more than he first appears to be.  The man catches him and the story goes from there.  Turns out said man is Georges Méliès, a pioneer of filmmaking who has been trying to bury his past, since he thought he was nothing but a forgotten footnote in history.

This film is a love story from Martin Scorsese to the medium he has worked in for decades.  And it is very nearly a truly excellent film.  But there is a big problem with it.  What is it you ask?  This film has two firsts for Scorsese, and while one he succeeds in beyond expectations, the other proves the film’s downfall.

The first is that this is the first ever children’s film he has ever done.  I admit I was a bit worried about this, since the only film genre I would have a harder believing he would do is science fiction.  I guess the biggest reason I felt this way was that Scorsese has always tackled mature themes and issues, something I wasn’t sure would work in a children’s film.  I guess my thoughts on this were formed in what today passes for children’s films.  So used to the likes of “Baby’s Day Out’ and the constant stream of current event jokes combined with bodily functions that seems to be the standard that one forgets that sometimes mature issues and good storytelling can make a great film for all ages.  It’s like if you had told me that the director of the ‘Mad Max’ series would make one of my favorite children’s movies before seeing ‘Babe’ I would have laughed in your face.  But like George Miller, Martin Scorsese pulls it off.  From a stellar cast to beautiful location settings, you can see it was a film that he had his heart into, something I frankly missed in ‘Shutter Island’.  THIS is the Scorsese that Tony forced me to watch and love.

Before I get to the problem, I have to single out two actors for similar reasons.  I first saw Sir Ben Kingsley in Gandhi, and for a long time that was what I thought of when I thought of him.  Then I saw Sexy Beast, and my eyes were opened to the skills he had as an actor.  Now I have yet another standard to think of him by with Hugo.  He goes from bitter old man to almost childish glee in what he is doing with such smoothness and ease you really felt he was portraying his own life.  I also had this revelation with Sacha Baron Cohen.  He took what could have been a simple role and gave it a depth I did not expect.  To see him portray a man who has endured much who still cannot do the one thing he wants to do more than anything else was impressive.  I hope he does more (semi) serious work in the future.

Now to the big problem…

The second thing Martin Scorsese did for the first time in this movie was shoot it in 3D.  And this was NOT a good choice.  3D movies tend to be gimmicky to me, and yes, he went that route as well.  I wish I had seen this film in 2D, as I would have liked it far more.  The funny thing about this is Georges Méliès is considered the forefather of visual effects in film.  All the scenes that show Méliès working on his films were nothing short of breathtaking.  It was where Scorsese’s love shown through the brightest.  Recreating the practical magic Méliès did for his films was perhaps the greatest tribute one could do.  I just wish that Scorsese had gone for more traditional filmmaking for the entire film.  The 3D was not needed.  In fact, I will go a step further.  I would have loved to see this filmed with as much practical effects as possible.  I know that there is a lot the has to be done in CGI because of the setting, but some of it just was too obvious- in part since it was used for the 3D.  I will give a perfect example from Hugo, along with a similar example from another amazing director.

There is a scene near the beginning of Hugo where the camera flies through the station.  It flies through the crowd like a fish through water- all in 3D.  And it looked less than stellar to me, due to the obvious CGI.  And the sad thing is that it is not an impossible shot to do practically.  Terry Gilliam did it pretty effectively in 1988 in the film The Adventures of Baron Munchausen.  In fact, I see a lot of similarities to that film in style with the works of Georges Méliès.  Is the scene of the camera flying through the ranks of the Turkish army in Munchausen perfect?  No, but it IS real.  Maybe I am nitpicking, but it did drag down the experience for me.

So do I recommend this film?  Oh yes- but see it in 2D if possible.  I plan on doing that as well.  The film is worth a second viewing in theaters.  I think while I may have laughed more at The Muppets, seeing the love and reverence in Hugo more than made up for it.  Take the kids to this (if you have them) instead of dribble like Happy Feet 2.  Let them see a master at work and introduce them to GOOD films.

 

(A final note- I think the two reasons I am not a big fan of 3D are thus:

1.      They charge you more money for the privilege- EVEN if you bring your own 3D glasses.

2.      3D tends to give me a headache…)

Lordy, lordy...

It's strange to realize I have made middle-age.

I honestly cannot believe I'm that old, but the calendar doesn't lie. Come October 25, I will have been on this earth for 40 years. Trust me, I'm just as surprised as you will. I for some reason think I am still in my 30s. And looking in the mirror does not really dissuade me from that.

For the most part when I look in the mirror I do not see an old man or at least middle-aged man. I see no left lines I see no wrinkles I do see a few gray hairs; actually a lot a gray hairs. The only real physical difference I notice is the weight gain. I like to say it's just because I'm too lazy, but sometimes, in my more morose mods I think to myself I was trying to fill a hole that tore open my soul several years go. But I digress-that hole is nearly disappeared.

You wouldn't be able to judge my age by my attitude and behavior. In fact, the one thing I can never be accused of is acting my age. For example, about a week ago I was paying some bills at the local bank when I heard a frog croak. I spent the next 5 min. after hearing that looking for the frog  just so I can see it and possibly hold it for a bit. Not really a mature thing to do but it was kind of fun looking for it. No, I never really act my age. I can, if I want to, but really why? It's not as much fun.

No, there's only one time I actually feel my age, if not a little bit older. That's usually first thing in the morning. Maybe it's just not wanting to get out of bed (or the arthritis) but man do I just feel ancient. Then again, I think that's actually universal, so maybe I shouldn't worry about it.

So here I stand, about to enter my fourth decade of life. I look at it like the man who fell off the building and can be heard saying as he falling " so far, so good". I know my life is not nearly complete, that I have much more to do. Hopefully I'll get most of what I want done in life done, and enjoy doing it. We shall see...

Mushmouth?

Hello.

I have just recently purchased and installed Dragon Naturally Speaking on my laptop.  I have been slowly configuring it to me, but still posts I write using this have a bit of errors which I have to keep correcting.  For shits and giggles, I decided to just talk and not correct what was being said to show how bizarre it can get.  So without further ado...



And in an old tag and I am now used Estrella NaturallySpeaking ramp for products and in lien of half awake for five days. And what I decided doodled this is negative Hoshino show what exactly it looks like on Antonin on frustratingly corrected when I speak right now. I'm still larding nanomachines Gretchen the system is still learning from the town I noticed to do this little posting the show what it looks like on an ad on rock and hopefully people may understand.

It's rather unusual that I've done this I had to switch between three different headsets before finally deciding on using what my bloomed the reason I chose this is because it's wireless on and turn my head not look screen all eponymous horse I need to. Plantation WriteNow to look at the screen and make sure nothing is messed up is great but I won't do it. It's, like madeleines in a way. I won't know what actually says when it's all done because I probably will forgotten what I said average. Most like the bead undecipherable mess, but it instilled that funding more to laugh at least. 97 agonist. And so far I have noticed and problems with this. Problem number one is that I talk way too loud minds is but then again I do not mind, all subtle I should expect that is not smart on with me and thing else. And the promises sometimes it picks up words from people speaking on people speaking. A lot has been limited with the jawbone but still occasionally happens sure when no you cannot use this I am not only played my game and sometimes I forget that I'm talking to someone else… And if you're in.

Sun is delete is unedited let people see it as his hoping that. Disabled allow looking back in. And in an and in an and. I've also noticed for some reason when I use the heck the Bluetooth it keeps inserting the word and.

Hopefully all get this thing down pat soon...

Yes-man? NO.

Hello.

A couple weeks ago I was having a conversation with a young lady I consider a friend.  Throughout the course of our conversation, she started talking about how she was going to stop caring about people and only worry about herself. And then in the very next breath, she would complain that nobody ever seem to care about her and what was going on with her life. Well I called her on it, and as a result she got very mad at me. She got so mad she stopped talking to me, saying that if I was a true friend, I wouldn't be talking like that to her. And this conversation got me to thinking.

People have been saying that they want friends, but it's not friends they are looking for. They are looking for people who will agree with them. People who will never doubt them. People who'll never confront them. People who will always enable them. In short, they are looking for yes-men.

Now maybe I'm an unusual case, but I've always had a different opinion about how friends should act towards each other. True friends are willing to face the negative consequences of being truthful. A friend is someone who will call you on your bullshit . The problem is that one of the things people hate more than anything is being called on their bullshit and flaws. It seems honesty is not always the best policy. And I speak of this from experience.

It's never a pleasant experience to be called on your shortcomings. But I am also a realist enough to know that sometimes it is a necessary thing. In fact, I am ultimately grateful that someone is willing to do that for me. It is a high sign of respect from a friend when they are willing to face my potential anger to steer me in the right direction. Ultimately, the results of a friend willing to do that is that it helps me grow as a person. And that's not a bad thing.

A yes-man, on the other hand, just wants you to be as you are-or more accurately, as you wish you are. They may think they are being helpful, then they think they're doing the best thing for you. But ultimately they are doing nothing but harm to you. For how can you grow as a person when you are being told you are already at your best? While having yes-men around may make you feel good and short-term, in the long run they are detrimental to you. They allow no growth in a positive direction. In fact, by glossing your mistakes they allow said mistakes to grow and become worse, making you lesser. And that's not something I wish to be part of.

So while I consider it an honor that you would consider me a friend, I must be up front and let you know that I will be honest towards you, for good or for ill. I do not do this out of maliciousness. I do not do this to cut you down. I do this because it is the right thing to do. I can never be a yes-man.

You'll have to look elsewhere for that...

A dream that became a fairytale

A preface before I post this.  

I have mentioned in the past that I tend to have rather vivid dreams.  While the exact story was fogged when I woke up, the visuals from this dream remained vivid.  After I woke up and quickly went to my computer and wrote this down, almost stream of conscious style.  After letting someone I trust to tell me the truth read it, I added paragraph breaks and did a final bit of cleanup.  From waking up to final editing, the total time writing this out was about 20 minutes.  Not bad.

I am keeping this in the simple style, in the vein of the fairytales it is an homage to.  (Not Grimm, though.  More like Hans Christian Andersen.)  I hope you enjoy this and let me know, as that will encourage me to write more like this.

(A side note-  I actually had two vastly different dreams during this time.  the fairy tale was the first.  the second had more a sci-fi feel.  It was also a twist on a common theme in the genre, and I may write it down as well...)

Once upon a time there was a hero. 

  He was all a hero was expected to be- dashing, brave, handsome, and in general a pretty decent fellow.  He spent his days doing heroic deeds, and eventually he attracted the attention of a beautiful princess.  She was the fairest maiden in the land and when they met, people far and wide sprung into songs of joy seeing the two of them together. 

  Except for an evil wizard.  His jealousy of the hero and desire for  the princess gnawed at his dark heart and mind until finally he took action and kidnapped the princess.  The people were devastated, and the hero inconsolable.  But a hero never stays down for long.  He gathered himself and prepared to face the wizard and rescue his beloved princess- but first he went to fetch his secret weapon.

  It wasn’t a magic sword, an invincible shield, a powerful talisman.  No, it was his friend.  His friend was a man of great intelligence and cleverness.  Preferring to stay in the shadows of his more impressive appearing friend, he nonetheless was always there for the hero, helping him see the correct pathway for victory.

  The two set off, the hero planning the attack as the friend planned the rest.  Many challenges were met with and surpassed by the friend’s cleverness.  He deduced to use an ice boat to cross the lava flow.  He saw through the trickery of the trickster ursines and their meddling ways.  While the hero drove them forward through the desolate woods, the friend poured through ancient texts, eventually finding the location of the talisman needed to defeat the wizard.

  He guided both of them to the giant lake, where the water giant lived.  She alone had what it was they needed.  The hero issued a challenge to her, standing bravely ready for conquest.  She wouldn’t come.  While the hero continued issuing challenges, the friend snuck through the shallows, coming to the hill the giantess hid behind.  He saw her there, crying.  Any thoughts of fighting fled his mind, and he was overtaken with her sadness.

  ‘Why are you crying?’  he asked earnestly.  The giantess, never before confronted in such a way, looked at the friend quizzically.

  ‘No one has ever asked me before.  They all just wish to fight or conquer me.’

  ‘Why is that?’ the friend asked.

  ‘Because I am a monster!’  she wailed.  ‘Look at me, I am a hideous creature!’  And he looked at her and really saw her.

  ‘You may be ten times my size, milady,’ he proclaimed, ‘But you are NO monster.’  Indeed, for other than her gigantic size, she was in fact an attractive woman.  ‘You are beautiful.’  He said to her earnestly.  The giantess looked at him, expecting mocking looks and ready to pummel him, but stopped when she saw his eyes.  She saw he was telling the truth.  She looked back at him, confused.

  ‘Why do say this?  How do you see this?’  He looked at her and told her the truth.

  ‘My lady, I have spent my life living in the shadow of my friend, the hero.  As long as I was able to help him and others, I was happy.  I myself kept to the shadows because I felt I was never going to be his equal in the eyes of others.  He was always the shining one compared to the drabness in me.  I may be far more clever, but you can’t see clever.  I lived my life observing others and helping.  You have lived in isolation because you feel you do not fit into society proper.  They never came to know you.  They just saw your size and ran.  It is why no one ever claimed the talisman.  People believed the legends, not the reality.  I see the reality, and I see a beautiful woman who is lonely, who wants someone to see that.  I am that someone.’  She stopped crying and wanted to believe, but suddenly turned cold.

  ‘You just want the talisman!  You are trying to trick me.  Be gone, and tell them the monster will not be tricked thus!’  She started to leave, to hide deeper in the lake.  He followed her, having to slightly tread water as it got deeper.

  ‘Milady, please listen!  It is true that I need the talisman to help the hero rescue his beloved.  But I won’t fight or trick you for it.  I make this vow:  please allow me to use it and I swear I will find a way for you to never be lonely again!’  She turned, ready to be a beast to him, but again stopped when she saw his eyes.  She saw truth there, and… pain.  A pain she also suffered.  In that moment she believed.  She reached up to her neck and unclasped the chain there.  She removed the tiny (to her) talisman and handed it to him.  He accepted it gratefully and looked into her eyes.

  ‘I thank you, milady.  I swear I will return.’  He left her and found the hero, who had tired of issuing challenges and was sitting dejectedly.  The friend produced the talisman and many thanks were laid upon him.

  They headed to the wizard’s castle, where the hero defeated and slayed the wizard and won back his princess.  As the three of them stood at the entrance to the wizard’s keep, the friend wished them well and a happy life.  The hero, confused, asked what did the friend mean.  The friend told him that he could not go with them on the rest of their journey.  He could no longer be part of their tale.  He had business here in the wizard’s keep, and a promise to fulfill.  The hero was greatly saddened, because the friend was like a brother to him.  The friend said that sometimes one must go their own path, despite how it saddens him.  He told the hero that this was not the end- just a divergence.  They would see each other again.

  ‘Besides, I think your princess will keep your days filled for some time.  Be with her and enjoy life’ the two men embraced, expressing their love for each other, then parted.  The hero and the princess left, and the friend got to work.

  He pored over the magical tomes, trying to find that which he sought.  And soon enough, he did.

  The giantess sat in the lake, alone.  It had been two months since the friend had made his vow, and she had heard whisperings of their success and the hero and the princess’ triumphant return to their land.  She cursed herself as a fool for believing the friend.  He used her, she thought; he plied on her weakness for his own gain!  She started crying angry tears, doomed to be alone forever.

  ‘Milady, it always pains me to hear you in such pain’ said a familiar voice.  She stopped and looked in disbelief.  There was the friend, finally back from the wizard’s keep, a small bottle in his hand.

  ‘I thought you had tricked me!’  She cried.

  ‘I am so sorry.  I worked as quickly as I could.  I studied many of the wizard’s tomes, to find a solution.  I first searched for an incantation or potion to shrink you to normal human size.  I must say I did not find any such thing.  I found no way to change you, but then I realized why should you change?  With that in mind, I created this.’  He held up the bottle.  He removed the stopper and drank its contents.

  ‘What was that?’  She inquired.

  ‘Since I would not change you,’ he said ‘that means I have to change me.’  He slowly started growing.  ‘I found a potion to make one ten times their original size.  It is permanent.’  He continued to grow.

  ‘Why would you give up everything for me?’ she asked amazed as he started to reach her size.  His growth stopped when he was but slightly larger than her.  He offered his hand, helping her up to face him and looked deep into her eyes.

  ‘Because you are worth it.  Now neither of us will ever be alone again.’  He embraced her and they kissed passionately, both ecstatic that they have finally found what they were looking for- each other.

And they lived happily ever after.

Breaking the Cycle

This is a post about 9/11 but it’s NOT going to be the usual…

I planned on writing a post to talk about this day, but I realized I had talked about it several times before. I have already talked about where I was and what happened on the day of the attack. The little ritual I do every year? It hasn’t changed, except that I got ‘United 93’ on blu-ray now. In all honesty, there really isn’t much that I can talk about that either I, or someone else, will have said. (And probably more eloquently than I…) then I realized there was one thing I could talk about- about rejoining.

With the exception of the morning and evening of 9/11, I have not worked on that day the last 10 years. (Back when it happened I worked overnights, hence the morning and night.) Mostly it was the luck of my days off coinciding, but there were a couple times I took personal leave days. My justification was that I used the time to honor those who died, to spend time reflecting on what happened and what I could possibly do to make sure it never happened again. It sounds good…

But it’s not really the truth.

If I had a face to face with you the last 10 or so months, one thing I have mentioned is that 2011 is the year everything changes for me. For the first time in a long time I feel optimistic about the future, kinda ironic considering the state of the world. I have a viable long term plan. I am moving onto better things and a better station in life, even though one of the big changes will actually now happen early next year, due to my own stupidity. A lot has gone for the better for me. And last March I woke up and realized I needed another change:

I had to take 9/11 back.

You see, the truth was I wasn’t taking the day off out of respect. I have the morning ritual to do that. No, I wasn’t working it out of fear. I was afraid how I would act working that day. The last time I did work it, the evening that happened, I have very little recollection of the shift. I was just an emotional wreck. The only thing I DO remember was nearly (verbally) tearing the head off one of the store supervisors for being rather chipper and having the gall to ask me why I looked so tired and upset, like he was oblivious to what had happened 18 hours earlier. So I steeled myself to do this. It was time to deal with this. Time to truly heal.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut-

A funny thing happened between then and now. As part of changing myself for the better, I seized and opportunity to transfer to a better position that I liked. One of the advantages was the new days off: Sundays and Mondays, meaning I now got at least part of the weekend off and since most holidays fell on Mondays, extra personal holidays to use at my leisure. The unintended side effect is that since 9/11 falls this year on a Sunday…

Oh well. And so go the great plans of mice and men.

But this will not deter me from my goal. When my schedule has me working on that day, I will work it. Because sometimes the best ways to honor the dead is not by stopping your life-

But actually LIVING it, even the mundane parts.

The End of an Era… or more accurately- a notebook

Time marches forward. Sometimes at a pace quicker than expected.

A few years ago I bought a couple notebooks to keep in my backpack. (I have done this for some time.) Mainly to write down ideas that pop into my head and to rough out potential posts. Unfortunately one got destroyed due to my clumsiness and a chai tea latte. The other one, though, has served me well and today I am writing my last posting in it.

This notebook has been with me to San Diego Comicon, to the hospital, classes and lectures of various types… what have you. Its pages are filled with random notes, many now unknown to me of their original intent. There are completed postings, half (or less) ones where the idea just did not work, and some posts finished that I decided for different reasons not to put up. Recipes, phone numbers, even random doodles adorn the pages- some of them DEFINITELY not safe for work. (I get bored and horny sometimes- SUE ME!) Attempts to improve my penmanship, rebellions against the same, sometimes on the very same page. Experiments with different types of pens to find what I like best. (For the record, I prefer Tasche brand fountain pens.) But again, time has marched on and the pages are completely filled to the last.

So as I write this last posting in this notebook, I begin again the process of getting the next notebook in line ready. As usual, I got one with a pocket in it to hold a few items I like to keep with me; my sheets of Decepticon decals, drafts I tore out but want to keep safe, a letter given to me some time ago from a special someone (I may talk about that one in a later posting). They all go into the new notebook, along with my pen of choice, which in turn will go into my backpack. The old one will have its last words written in it, closed up, and placed into my file cabinet… which one day I will hopefully fully organize.

So thank you, loyal notebook. You did your duty most admirably. May the next hold up as well as you did.

The Superman/Batman conundrum

Hello.

Two words before I begin.  First, when I get started on a project, I usually channel all my creative energies towards it.  It’s the main reason I have not written blog posts lately; I have a physical project I have been working on.  The ideas this posting will become have been circling inside my head for some time, untouched because of the other project.  However, sometimes at work delays happen and I have some free time to work on a personal project.  But since I do not have the materials to paper mache or Bondo at work, I instead bring pen to paper and let the ideas form; the other project now circles around, finding ways to be improved.  (I just hope I can finish it in 3 weeks…)

Second.  What I am going to talk about comes from three individual ideas I have had on my mind for different times.  The problem was that combining the two older ideas came dangerously close to one of the few topics I will NOT talk about.  I was frustrated at this and was about to breech what I did not want to, when a third view came to me from a valued source.  I now know how to work this into a topic I can talk about without giving away too much of certain beliefs.

There comes a time when you have to realize that there is only so much you can do- that you can’t just save everyone.  And that sometimes, for the right reasons, that is for the best.

Let me back up a bit…

I once wrote about the steadfast rules I adhere to when it comes to dating.  One of the reasons I did that was that a young lady I work with broke most of them in one fell swoop.  I tried to warn her, but as per usual, my words went for naught and she soon started dating a man she worked with every day who was over 10 years her senior and married.  Comes to pass he divorced his wife and got engaged to my lady friend.  So I was wrong and it turned out to work out very well for both of them…

But I wouldn’t be writing about this if that was the case.

Cut to a few months ago.  After switching to another position, I finally saw her again, and saw that my worst fears with regards to her relationship choices had come true.  He had left her with no explanation of why he was leaving her.  Shortly after she left I got a bit more information on what happened.

Now I knew my lady friend (known from here on out as ‘Happy’) had some ‘personality problems’.  I attribute a lot of it to her sheltered life and youth.  I just didn’t understand the extent of her peculiarities.  She made him, among other things, stop associating with his family and children, and claimed his background was of French descent, because it turns out she has a rather slight dislike of those who are of Latino ancestry- and by slight dislike, I mean bordering on racist.  She was VERY vindictive to him if he didn’t agree with her.  It almost seemed like a dominatrix-submissive relationship more than anything.  And she thought he wouldn’t dare defy her.  Which he did, and it devastated her.  Evidently she was not used to being the one dumped, and she did NOT like it at all.  She was an emotional wreck, constantly crying and being miserable.  I tried to comfort her, maybe forget her woes for a bit, but it was too great a task.  Still, I tried, and she would tell me how she had no idea why he left, that she was a good person; then immediately start cursing his kids and making veiled threats against them.  I was torn- she is a friend, but she was showing me pure venom and her darkness with what had happened.

One day she told me how while at her work area she saw him, and she freaked out until he left.  Then she would ask me if I had seen him and was he miserable from what I could see.  Truth be told, he seemed to be more professional about it, and he even brought his children around a couple times.  I kept most of that from her, and she kept believing in her near denial as to the most likely real reason this all happened.  After a month of this, it took a turn for the worse.

Happy was about to be bumped from her position by someone with more seniority than her.  She could have become the relief, but instead she chose a different position:

One that had her working every day with him.

It doesn’t take a genius to see what would happen, with her acting the way she was.  For the first time, I was afraid of her losing her job and more by taking this course of action.  She claimed she could handle it, but I know she has a real lack of self control.  I’ve seen it in action numerous times before, and she barely kept her job then.  So I did something I rarely do- I BEGGED her not to do this.  I warned her and told her clearly why I felt this was a horrible idea.  She seemed genuinely touched, but said she had to do this.  So I left her to her thing, dreading that this might be one of the last times I would see her in a professional environment. 

Fortunately he saw the same thing I did, and acted accordingly.  The next time I saw her, she was bragging that he switched positions as soon as he saw what she was doing.  She called him a coward for refusing to face her.  She didn’t grasp he did it as an act of kindness to her.  It was at that moment that I realized there was nothing I could do.  And I did something I rarely, if ever, do:

I washed my hands of the entire affair.

I seem to be one of a dying breed:  someone who genuinely wants to help others.  A nice guy, in other words.  I hate seeing others down and in need. I will do all I can to help out others if I can.  I don’t do this out of some smug sense of satisfaction or superiority.  I don’t do this out of guilt.  I do it because it is the right thing to do.  And every day I pay the price for this, since most times it seems that the order of the world is cruelty and coldness.

Look, I am not condemning looking out for #1.  I think a bit of selfishness is a necessary and beneficial trait for humanity.  But it only gets you so far.  As much as I sometimes like to believe, we are not a reclusive species.  We ultimately need others at times.  We are social.  The problem is most people’s ideas of social are in the realm of pure douchebaggery.  We are scared, unsure creatures that have generally decided that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pre-emptively hurt others.  It’s easier, in the words of the Harry Potter novels, to do what is easy rather than what is right. 

It almost seems at times the slogan for our society is ‘Cui bono’, which basically translates to ‘who benefits’?  WHY help others, what does it benefit me?  Those that help are weak; why NOT take advantage of them?    It’s ALL about my own world; the rest is of no importance.  In short, fuck ‘em.  This is the world we live in, and it always seems so few of try to fight for it to change for the better.  It wears on one, to try and stop the ocean with a thimble, and more often than not I wonder why DO I keep on this path?

Is it masochism?  Do I LIKE getting sense of hope in humanity constantly crushed?  I should just stop, go the easy way and just say fuck all y’all.  I would love nothing more than to do that, since this life hurts my very being.  But when I get like that, I get glimpses that maybe, just maybe I am making a difference.  Case in point:

My brother also writes a blog, which I try to read when I can, but due to the summer travel season, I have fallen behind.  He writes about those who he thanks for being the ones who make life better.  And unknown to me, one was about me.  Here, take a look. (Also, give the rest a read, it’s pretty uplifting.)  This is the nicest thing ever written about me. And its things like this that make me realize I can’t quit, or more accurately WON’T quit.  

You see, we are all we have.  We choose to make life worthwhile or not.  The rest is but cruelty. 

And that it the closest I will ever come to talking about a certain subject.

So why did I title this ‘The Superman/Batman conundrum’?  Because the character of Superman is someone who HAS to save everyone; and when he cannot, he feels like he is a complete failure.  Batman realizes that sometimes you have to choose.  “I won’t kill you, but I DON’T have to save you’ he said once.  And I realized that as much as I try to be like Superman, sometimes you have to follow Batman’s path.  Hence why I walked away from my lady friend’s situation:  I can still be her friend, but since she is set and determined to follow a path to destruction, I won’t stop her from doing it.  I hope when this is all said and done, she will be a bit more mature and wiser in life- if it doesn’t destroy her.

As for me, I will keep fighting.  I do not care the consequences.  Maybe it is a fool’s errand- but I would rather be a fool fighting for the right reasons than a genius who does nothing.

A postscript- it has recently come to my attention that both my lady friend and the other employee who were seeing each other are in fact with each other again.  If I was a more cruel man, I would take him off to the side and tell him what I had listened to from her.  It might stop the train wreck that will inevitably happen, but most likely it would result in lives ruined.  So I won’t.  I cannot help those who do not want help…

Emotional Reactions to Art

I originally was going to do a posting giving my reviews of the plays I had seen while at vacation at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, but sometimes things do not go the way planned.  I have spent the last couple days trying to digest something I had witnessed, and realized that I had to write down my thoughts.

They say art is something that provokes a reaction in you.  Could be good, could not.  And I saw two instances of this from the same play.  And it is because of this my mind has been lost in thought.

On Saturday afternoon, I went, by myself, to see the play 'The Language Archive', one of the more modern plays being preformed.  Written by Julia Cho, it's story is of a linguist who finds he cannot talk to his wife, an assistant who is willing to learn a new language to show her love for the linguist, and a couple who are two of the last speakers of their language.  It deals with how difficult it can be for people to truly communicate, in spite of all the different ways we can.

For the most part it was an enjoyable production.   The acting was top-notch, the directing excellent.  The only problem I had was that I felt the script itself was lacking in spots.  In particular a scene on a train and the epilogue.  I know they both were really needed, but they both just didn't seem to flow as well to me as the rest of the play was.  But the actors rose above this easily.  And in two spots, the performance hit me harder than I expected.

The first scene that knocked me for a loop was in the second act.  The research assistant, who has longed to become romantically involved with her partner, the lead male actor in the play, has been studying Esperanto specifically to tell him she loved him.  Since his wife has left him, she feels it is time to let him know, and for the first time in the play you can see her confidence and happiness soar.  But as she is racing to the lab to tell him how she feels, she runs past a newly opened bakery.  Enticed by the smells, she goes in...

And see's his wife baking.

She leaves and heads back to the lab.  She can still do it- she just doesn't have to let him know.  But when he appears, she tells him to go check the bakery out, without telling him why.  Even though she could have had all she has been looking for, she chose instead to due the right thing.  And you could see her very being dying because of it.  She gets no happy ending, instead she just... functions.

There are those of us who will never get the happy ending we so desire.  We must make do with what we are given.  Sure, there are chances, but the cost is too high.  Would I love a wife and children?  Yes- but the price I nearly paid for that dream would have most likely have taken everything.  Have I let go things I desired more than anything, because it was the right thing to do?  Yes, and I have felt like my being died as well.  But we still continue; we still... function.

The second scene...

The second scene has two parts to it; the lie told and the truth revealed.  Near the beginning of the play, when the main character and his wife are having a disagreement about being sad, she mentions that he has never cried.  And one example she brings up is when his grandmother died.  He brings up a plethora of reasons why he just didn't feel too bad when she passed:  she was old and ready to go, people die all the time, she was senile, and he wasn't too close to her.  He rationally explains it to his wife.  It is later when the structure of his life, his routine is torn from him that we get to know the real reason why:

It turns out his grandmother was the last speaker of a language, and she tried to teach him it.  Being a younger child, this (for him) unusual behavior scared him, and made him pull away, isolating her and letting the language die with her.

He realized it was the greatest mistake of his life.

Because of this major lapse in judgment, he ends up spending his life dedicated to cataloging and saving dying languages.  Saving dying ones and yet never developing properly his own ability to communicate.

So we have a man who, for all the wrong reasons, makes a HORRENDOUS choice that can never be taken back or forgiven, and as a result dedicates his life trying to rectify and atone for it?

Remind you of anyone you know?

Watching this revelation and it hitting me had the unintentional effect of putting me in a mood that is normally prevalent in me during the Christmas season:  moody, melancholy, quiet, and a bit dark.  For that, I apologize to my family who was with me that weekend.  I tried to shake it off, but that performance shook me to the core, even more so than the first scene.

So by the very definition I stated at the beginning of this post, this performance was art- at least to me.  While it didn't elicit happy emotions, emotions it DID invoke.  I have no intention of seeing this play again, once was enough.  But I will never forget it, flawed as I thought it was, because of how it connected with me.

And I thank it for that...