Thoughts from a science fiction and fantasy fan
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fenspar's LiveJournal:
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| Saturday, July 23rd, 2005 | | 12:05 pm |
What a week!
We served 3000 people for lunch all week, when a normal day is 1500 to 1600. Thank goodness they were a very mellow group of Unitarians - much nicer than the drunk football crowd we sometimes have to cope with during games. It was exhausting, though. Some days, I'd just crawl home and fall into bed rather than going anywhere near the computer. So today, I'm working in at least a quick catch up. Also motivating, the library is _much_ cooler, temperature wise, than the baking apartment. So an hour here is a nice break. Then I'll reluctantly scrape myself up and bus home with more cat food for Acey. He's declared that the breeziest window ledge in the place is his turf, so despite the heat, he seems to be doing OK. Me? I keep muttering, "Roll on, fall..." | | Wednesday, July 13th, 2005 | | 11:52 pm |
Real Life - It's so sad, sometimes...
Everywhere I have neighbors. And what's mostly a good summer, for me, is turning out to be one of intense, painful loss for others. The people who died in the London bombings on the seventh, and now, a family I know on one of the mailing lists I'm on, whose beloved baby boy, little Phoenix, died unexpectedly of menengitis. He was only 7 months old. His gift to this world was love. And now that he's gone, we miss him so deeply. They live on the west coast. Yet here in the east, I am grieving too. Unexpected loss reminds me - Tell everyone, my friends. Tell them you care about them, now, while you have time. We never know what may happen. Sometimes we don't get second chances. Tell them now. | | Wednesday, July 6th, 2005 | | 1:29 am |
FMA - the episode titled Words of Farewell
Spoilers warning - discussion of a turning point in the story. I knew it was coming. And tonight they showed it again, the ep where Maes Hughes gets killed. So close, they make you think he's going to get away from the homonculi, then at the last minute, *zap!* And that she takes the shape of his wife to kill him. Low. Really low. Yeah, I know, series villian, true to form. But still. And the whole thing with his little 4 year old daughter not understanding why they're burying him. Gets me every time. Yeah sure, I know it's a cartoon series. Yet that reflects the pain that real little kids go through in real life, losing a parent swiftly, and unexpectedly. I think of the kids that are going through that now, when their deployed parents are getting killed in Iraq. It's the human loss, in any war, that is so costly. And they let Major Armstrong cry. Good on yer, series creators! So often, the big guy in such a story is there to provide a strong back, and not much thinking. But along with Armstrong's strength, they allow him to be insightful - he gets it that Ed and Al head off on their own, trying to protect them as their bodyguards from becoming the next victim. And they allow him to feel. I appreciate that. Mustang too. "It's going to rain today." Too right. All down yer face. *sigh* I miss Maes Hughes. I'd say, even when I know it's coming, but it's more like, especially when I know it's coming. Savor every moment, because you don't know when they may suddenly stop short. Except, this time, I do know when. And it's tonight. *sense of resignation* Part of allowing myself to feel again means, letting myself feel the down sides too - the painful parts, the places that ache, and grieve. It hurts. And yet, I remember before, when it felt like I was living behind a stone wall. I didn't let pain touch me, but the price was, I couldn't touch what I wanted to, myself. Probably another resason why I relate to Al, trapped in his suit of armor. Although it's physical sensations he's lost - he still has his emotions, fortunately. That's more than I could let myself do, for a while. Except now, I've found a way back to them. And despite the places where it hurts sometimes, I'm glad I have. Being able to feel is better. Way better. I remember depression too - trapped inside a gray mist, it felt like. I could see out - the cool sunsets and beautiful parts of life still existed, and I knew they were there, but the joy of seeing them could not reach me. Felt nothing but despair. Felt like it was going to be that way forever, too. So glad I was wrong about that! Perhaps the value of loss is, that if you get lucky and get something back you thought was gone forever, it means you can really feel the deepness of its worth next time, the worth it merited having you notice all along, but maybe you'd missed at first. So we have thunderstorms most every afternoon here, these days. And there was a rainbow the other day. Beautiful strong arc of color curving across the entire southern sky. And this time, I could feel the wonder of it. A few brief, precious moments of singular beauty. Amazing. Not only that it exists in the first place, but also, that I am able to feel the wonder and awe that such transient miracles merit. So glad to have that back. | | Thursday, June 30th, 2005 | | 2:31 am |
More thoughts in the middle of the night
Life is full of a million little moments of experience. And we get conditioned to only focus on the aggravation and stressful parts. I'm lucky. I got a second chance to notice the good of even the simple little things. The cool fluid sliding of swallowing a mouthful of water. The freshness it brings, when I'm thirsty. The crispness of a saltine cracker and the crunch between the teeth of eating it with chunky peanut butter on top. The savor of the mild saltiness. And yeah, sure, I notice the aggravating parts, too. (Remembers wrestling to clean up Acey.) Yet I'm not letting the frustrating parts make me miss the good stuff any more. I can be right in the heart of a really good little moment, and feel it, notice it clearly. Meaningful progress! People may look at me from the outside, and think my life is uneventful. Proof yet again that there's more to our experience here than surface seeming! Because I could have lost the ability to walk, and yet I still have it. So I do not take it for granted any more. I think of standing, my muscles move, and allow me to do that. And I realise what a complex wonder that really is. Some of this musing is owed to conversation today with a younger co-worker who functions in a wheelchair. Yet he has a modified car, so he actually travels farther than I do, not being limited by the bus routes. I'm glad he has mobility, and am moved once again to remember the value of my own ability to move. Sure, it won't last forever. Must enjoy it while I got it, then. People may think I do not achieve much. Yet that is simply because they are unaware of how deeply it moves me, to have gained this ability to notice, and understand the value of these small good moments. I have been given a wonderful gift, in that. I am so grateful to have this time to experience that. | | 2:04 am |
FMA - vulnerability
I can barely begin to touch with words the way that the vulnerability of Ed and Al gets me to feel. Note, conventional wording would say, "makes me feel", but for me, more accurate is, allows me to feel. It does not force me, it offers me an opportunity. For someone who turned off feelings to survive, having them back in good ways is remarkable. Significant. And yes, sometimes painful. Yet so much better than emptiness. The end of yesterday's episode is still resonating with me. (Spoilers) When they are carried out, each hanging under an arm, damaged, yet alive. Such a relief that they're still here. Wounded, yet not gone. (I felt that way after the wringwraiths went at Frodo, too, in LotR.) And I'm also relieved this series shows recuperation, doesn't brush it aside lightly or have it take place offscreen. Because it underlines their humanity, their vulnerability is part of what makes these characters more approachable for me. As time goes on, and words surface, I will say more about this. | | 1:29 am |
FMA - the Birthday pary ep
Again, spoiler warning, just in case. Wow, I missed most of this ep, the first time they showed it - good to get to see it this time. It really shows a lot of what's to like about Maes Hughes. Sure, he's obsessed with the adorableness of his little daughter Elysha (not sure of the spelling on her name yet). And still he cares about Ed and Al as well, and has a knack for saying the comforting thing to Winry when she needs it. As my friend Chris says, he's the heart of the alchemists. Double spoiler warning - Yeah, gripes the grumbling side of me. Show how cool a person he is right before they're gonna kill him off! I can't stand it. Argh! knowing that the ep with his death is creeping closer and closer, and, being a work of fiction, there's no changing it, it'll just happen again like it did the first time. Hmm. How much fanfic gets written, I wonder, by people who'd desperately wish for an alternate ending? In the play The Elephant Man, the protagonist says, "If I werrrre Rrrrromeo, we would have got away." Yeah. Classic tragedy be damned. When you like someone, you want them to be happy. Even characters in stories. And it's a tribute to their authors that they portray the characters as so likable that you care enough about them to wish they *could* be happy. Of course, me, it was Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet that I wanted to live, and of course, whose death was pivotal to the story. Hmm. I wonder if Hughes' death serves a similar purpose in FMA? I suspect that I identify with secondary characters so strongly for several reasons. First, I feel like one - I could see myself as a supporting actor, but I don't credit myself with meriting the attention of a starring role. Also, secondaries are often allowed to be quirkier. Oooh! Oooh! Pick me! *wry grin* | | Wednesday, June 29th, 2005 | | 11:53 pm |
FMA - it's rough on brothers, both older and younger.
Probably should note this contains spoilers, in the unlikely but not impossible event that someone who hasn't seen the series happens onto this post. So far, three brother pairs have turned up in my viewing of FMA. Ed and Al, Scar and his older brother, and the mass murdering pair who both got blood sealed into armor. Ed makes the choice, driven by the intensity of grief, from losing their mother to death, and he and Al try to revive her. That goes horribly wrong and loses Al his body and seals his soul into the suit of armor. (Side note - good job there was something potentially mobile nearby. Not like, say, a bread box. "Wups, sorry, Al, I sealed your soul into a bread box?" Much shorter series, that'd be. Especially since Al's the one who has to get Ed over to the Rockbell's, after, so he doesn't bleed to death from limb loss. And as a note, limb loss that high along the limb, in real life places a person in extreme risk of death.) So Ed's got massive guilt about losing Al his body, and sets out on a quest to reverse that. And Al's got the angst of, "Am I real, now my body's gone?" Scar's got the whole "Our God Ishballah says alchemy is evil" thing going on, but meanwhile his nutcase older brother has covered himself in alchemical symbols in an attempt to resurrect a beloved, as well. And I'm not yet clear about how Scar winds up with his older brother's alchemically patterned arm - maybe that's revealed in later episodes? It is clear that Scar starts out, post arm transfer, to destroy all state alchemists, and yet winds up with a kind of sympathy toward Ed, who is one, because of how Scar sees him relating to Al. When Scar has them both at his mercy, Ed begs him to take Ed's own life and spare Al's. His willingness to die to protect his younger brother moves Scar to promise that Scar will never hurt Al - a significant gesture. And it's Ed's refusal to treat the murdering brothers as things that's also definitive, even though their villiany got them both sealed together into a second suit of armor. Then last night, the homunculus Lust scraped away the older murderer's blood seal. There goes another older brother. This show uses them up, actively. And soon, I get to see what happens next. Yeah! | | Sunday, June 26th, 2005 | | 11:08 pm |
Scary driving
The worst scary drivers are the ones you know... I just can't ride with Al. He's at it again, going around bragging to everybody how he beat some "poser" in a drag race, and how he was riding on their bumper until he whipped past them, and the rotten things they were shouting at each other. And he thinks this is a good time? He does this for fun? He wasn't in town yet when Benny wrapped one around a tree (and lived, thank Heaven!) That was different - freak accident. Scared the crap out of me when I saw it, after. It was the horrible wreck from driver's ed movies made real. And my *friend* was in that thing when it mangled. I couldn't stop shaking for a while, it gave me the shivers so bad. Said I never wanted to see another wreck like that in my life. And now Al's out there, running around crazy, risking himself *on purpose*. I just have such a bad worried feeling about him. Hope I'm wrong, though, I really do. I don't ever want to see another familiar paint job by the side of the road, all crushed. I've tried telling him. I won't get in if he's going out to race. I've told him I worry about him. He just laughs at me and calls me a wuss. Rather be a wuss than a stat, though, that's certain. I don't know what else I can do. Man, I just hope he outlives this stage. Current Mood: worried | | Saturday, June 25th, 2005 | | 9:33 pm |
Justice League
Physically perfect, impossibly beautiful people. How is someone like me supposed to relate? | | 7:25 pm |
Acey and the Battle of the Bath
He started out as Alarmclock Cat, because he jumps on my shoulder and wakes me, early. (Chow? Nowwwww! Nowwwww!) And then became Acey for short. He's a long haired tabby, which leads to physical problems now and then. He managed to (sorry if this is TMI) muck his own butt fuzz. Revolting. No way around it, we had to have a bath. True to his cat heritage, Acey hates water. Best compromise I can manage is, hold him in the shower with the water running off, not pooling up. This means, I get as wet as he does. But today was a scorcher, so that part I could cope with. The hard part is, wrangling eleven pounds of outraged barbed wire while attempting to wash tail of whirlwind. Who howls like a banshee. Even with two full sized adult bath towels, he still snaked an arm loose and nailed me. Owwww. Then he bit me on the thumb. Little varlet. Here I am, trying not to hurt him, and he's like, "To @#$%^& with that - roll damages!" I was never so glad to get done. Hair plastered to face, clothes plastered to torso, but he's clean, and the long tail fur is snipped shorn to prevent it reoccurring (I devoutly hope!) So he's glowering at me from under the bed, but that will wear off as soon as I feed him. Half a can of tuna, and much, if not all, is forgiven. *wry grin* Still, I think I'll let myself rest and watch anime, after that. Earned it. | | 5:23 am |
Strange dreams
I dreamed I was staying with my Uncle Howard (actually great uncle - he was Mom's mother's brother. He's been dead for years, after losing lower limbs to diabetes. Is that why this is surfacing now, after watching FMA and thinking about limb loss? I wonder...) My stuff was in a car in an old, poorly paved driveway, with wheel ruts sunken in it by tire pressure and winter frost heaving. Something/someone had spilled a flat of my rock collection onto the ground, and then run the tires over my fluorites. Being only a hardness of 4, they'd broken the tips off the octahedrons. It was spring by then and the car had been rolled back. The ground was soft and muddy. I was digging the fluorites up out of the mud. I was relieved to have found them - I kept holding them up and saying, "See? Still good." Yet at the same time, I was grieved that they were irreparably broken, and I felt like it was my fault. Oh. Perhaps the fluorites represent my memories. That would fit. Or feelings. I got through school by turning them off, to survive. Now, watching FMA, I find they're coming back, resurfacing. I'm glad I've got them back, but it's complicated, dealing with them. Feeling numb was so much simpler. Wasn't good for me, though. It's something like when a foot wakes back up - tingles like blazes, to start. But you can do more with it, afterwards. So, feelings return, and it stings now. But if it lets me do more with my life - well worth it. So, maybe this makes more sense than I thought. Now that I've spent an hour and a half sorting it out, awake. | | Thursday, June 23rd, 2005 | | 4:00 pm |
| | 2:48 am |
Full Metal Alchemist - it does good things for me
I hadn't expected this. I started watching FMA because it looked like a cool show, and I was sleepless one night, so why not? But now I find, it somehow taps me into a deeper place in myself, and even more unexpected, gives me the way to talk about what I'm finding there. There's a strong theme of loss and regaining in the series, with Ed's artificial limbs symbolic of that. And it reminded me of something that happened with me, in daily life, on the bus. (I'm exhausted from work, still, despite sleeping most of the evening, so my brain is fuzzy. And I'm thinking, sluggishly, why is it that I'm lying here restless, why *must* I get up and write this, and then, like a blast from a Futurama spice weasel, *bam!* I get it. Loss, regain, artificial limbs. Of course.) Now to tell what happened, more understandably. I work on a college campus. Big place, thousands of people, lots and lots of buildings. And a commuter bus that runs an express route around campus. Now I'm not, and never have been an athlete. Also, I hate crowds. So big time sports sets me running the other way, mostly. But I do read the campus paper. So I was sad to read about this young black woman athlete who came down with some terrible illness while a freshman here. (Was it menengitis? Something very scary like that...) She was desperately ill, and to save her life, they amputated all 4 of her limbs. OK, now you see why FMA is reminding me of this, though Ed only lost two. Then there's a followup article. This young woman now has prosthetics, and she's done so well with them that not only is she back up and walking, going to classes - she's playing sports again. Wow. That takes guts. And I feel for her, because I know people will stare, like they stared at me in school, and I hate being stared at. They stare at everybody who's different, and she's different a lot now. Like I said, this place is huge, and I don't go to the gym, so I never thought about meeting this lady, or even seeing her. But then one day, I'm on the bus, and she gets on. I look up from my book, and she's putting away her bus pass. With hook prosthetics hands. I feel myself startle, and I look down, not wanting to stare. Down glance reveals double prosthetic legs, as she's wearing shorts. It's her, the one in the articles. Wow. Now, there's this whole unwritten social thing about how to behave on the bus. Some people don't want to talk at all, so don't bother them if they got earplugs in, or have closed body language. But this young woman speaks to the driver, and sits relaxed, smiling slightly. I'm in a side facing seat at the middle of the bus, across from the back doors and she sits diagonally from me, across the aisle, to my right. I just boggle. What she's been through amazes me, and that she's doing so well in spite of everything - that's wonderful. I want to say something to her. This is probably the one time I'll ever see her, even, when we're both on the express bus. But I have years of tongue-tiedness holding me back. But I really want to tell her that her comeback means something good to me, even if I am a complete stranger to her. It's the last stop. We start to get ready to get off. And I work up all my nerve, and manage to say, "I'm glad you made it back after all that." And she looks at me like she really sees me, and smiles again and says, "Thanks." Then we go our ways. Most of my life, I'd have said nothing, too afraid to speak. I'd have missed that moment. But this time, I actually did it - I actually said something good. I got it right. Such a little thing. Such a milestone for me, though. And then I get swept up in all the daily grind at work, and I forget to even jot it down, until watching FMA reminds me, and puts me back in the place of feeling, so I can talk about it. Feels good. | | Wednesday, June 22nd, 2005 | | 2:19 pm |
Just call me Knave of Cups
Work is getting zooey. 1700 people eating lunch from 11-1:30 = run and refill drinking cups. Run and refill ice cream cups. Run and clear tables (of cups) and then get pulled onto emergency trash duty, pulling (wait for it) dirty cups. The cups runneth over. Too literally. Meanwhile, I have a new team member, Mike-o. He's tidy, efficient, and incidentally, half a head taller than me. New tall buddy! Cool. Got to shift end and my lunch break, and next thing I knew I was hunched down in a booth shoveling 2 plates of food into myself as if there was no next Wednesday. I swear, had anybody waved a fork near my tray, I'd have gone into Throk Smash! mode. Food! Fooooood Nowwwwwwww! *My* Fooooood! Finally caught my breath, long about dessert. *wry grin* I also feel like I've got Feet of Undead, right now. Roll on, bus for home... | | 4:29 am |
Full Metal Alchemist - brief comments
Excellent series - I'll be saying a lot more about it when it's not 4:30 a.m. Tonight's ep was very much Ed and the Temple of Doom. And contained younger brother Al offering a phrase I can so relate to - "It's not my fault I'm big." Yeah. Mine either. Tell 'em, bro. I want to stay up and comment. But I drowsed through the first showing, managed to catch the second, which just finished now, so next, I really need to fall over asleep. Need enough hours rest, or work has the potential to bite like a badly fitted denture. Wargh. This is one time when I actually hope Alarmclock Cat will stomp on my shoulder and wake me. The birds are already starting in on the morning chirp soundoff, outside. I'm a lunatic. But I love this series. So staying up is worth it. 'Night... G'morning... something like that. *wry grin* | | Tuesday, June 21st, 2005 | | 4:19 pm |
Good ol' June :)
Got a storm building up to the south of us, big gray clouds and all, but it's not here yet, so maybe I can get in a quick post. Work was work, and whatever I have for supper, let's just say it will not be fried potatoes, and leave it at that. You can guess where I saw way too many trays of them, today. But the bonus right now is outdoors. Being a rockhound has a pleasant side effect - I know where all the local wild berry patches are. And we've had good rains, so they're nice and plump. So I get off the bus at the upper stop, and pick my way down the hedgerow behind the apartments, eating black raspberries as I go. Yum! So yeah, I *like* this time of year. It's early in the season, so they've just started bearing. When they really get cranking, I may have to have another go at jam making. I decidedly lack the knack for it, I never seem to get the pectin right, and it winds up being fruit syrup instead. But since my limited home culinary skills group does include ability to produce reasonably edible pancakes, it's OK, I can use fruit syrup. My Mom was good at jam. It's probably the least of the reasons why I miss her - it's just the one I'm thinking of, right now. | | 9:54 am |
Feels like the world is spreading out before me...
(Aside: Why wasn't the site loading? Ah, I see - cat walked on caps lock key. *unclick* There, better.) So, I've sort of been living under a rock. ("Would yer get a load of der strata on dat one?" *Obligatory Pratchett ref*) Didn't know people did e-toons on LJ, until I found this one: http://www.livejournal.com/users/get_medieval/And also discovered it has comments. Lots and *lots* of comments. Put down the link and back away slowly, oh me of easily distractedness. (Yes, I'm ADD. Shows, don't it? *wry grin*) But then I realize, my own LJ is a place I can keep all my comics links too - fun! I'm glad I found this thing, and that they let people like me have free accounts. Good of them. And one link leads to another, so there's also this: http://www.narbonic.com/But I do have to limit myself. No more comics than I can read in the time it takes to eat brunch. Which is grilled cheese captain's wafer crackers with spiced tomatoes. I'm a big fan of open and eat. But please note, I did work in a vegetable. So I do manage to inflict nutrition on myself at random moments. OK, food's done. Back to work. | | Monday, June 20th, 2005 | | 6:29 am |
| | 5:38 am |
*sigh* Sometimes, I just can't get back to sleep.
It's too early. I don't want to be awake, but after half an hour of tossing around, I gave in and got up. But enough about that. I'm enjoying having a place where I can write down some of my responses to anime, even if my local friends probably won't read it. Well, anime's just not their interest. Al's totally obsessed with fast cars. If a show doesn't have a lean, sleek piece of metal in it, he's like, "Hey, feh, whatever," and goes back to his hubcaps and racing videos. Ah well. But we do go to the movies together sometimes. Except I am so not going to the Dukes of Hazzard remake, while he can't wait to see it. To each his own, I guess. *wry grin* We did enjoy seeing Madagascar together. That falls into the silly fun friend flicks category for me, but hey, I like one of those every now and then. Then there's Harry and Tracy. They live near me. Nice neighbors, I met them at pizza night in our apartment complex. But they're mostly into riding mountain bikes and playing pool. I fell off one too many times as a kid to ride bikes for fun - tore a big ol' scar into my knee. So now, I'd rather walk. And one lungful of the smoke in a pool hall sets me gasping for breath, so no pool for me. But we watch videos together, like LotR. It's just that, to them, movies are for watching, and that's it. They don't see spending time writing about them - watching is enough. So, good thing I've got the internet. | | Sunday, June 19th, 2005 | | 10:55 pm |
If characters' worlds did cross over
Despite the fact that I do not, personally, write fanfic, I still sometimes find myself wishing I could introduce characters created by one author to those of another. The irony of that is, people do that in fanfic all the time. But fanfic would be me putting my own words into somebody else's character's mouth, and the only mouths my words belong in are those of my own characters. Personal view - others are welcome to write fanfic if they so choose. What would have to happen, to suit me, is a crossover where the original authors, writing the characters in their own original voices, chose to communicate with each other. Which is unlikely to happen, in the extreme. Still, eccentric being that I am, I wish I could introduce Prince Zuco (Sp? Only heard the name spoken) from Avatar: the Last Airbender to Lois McMaster Bujold's Aral Vorkosigan. Because Zuco would benefit from getting a clearer perspective on honor, and Aral gave his son Miles, who is that series protagonist, a well thought out discussion of honor's true meaning. Basically, it is what you know of yourself, not what others say of you. Fortunately, in his own series, Zuco is mentored by a wise and kindly uncle. Hopefully Uncle will be able to give Zuco that same concept, in his author's own words. Meanwhile, perhaps I'll set two of my own characters to having that discussion, in my own words, as well. |
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