Something a little different...

Now playing: Andy M. Stewart and Manus Lunny - Freedom Is Like Gold
via FoxyTunes


I was at the bookstore a few days ago and came across "Immortal Poems of the English Language." Intrigued, I picked up a copy and found many a good gem, though it seemed to be missing a few that I really enjoyed. In light of it only being 600 odd pages from about 150 authors, I can see why some of the more prolific poets aren't quoted in full. The "Anonymous" section has proved fertile ground for poems about love, and this one particularly caught my eye.

Love Not Me
Anonymous

Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face,
Nor for any outward part:
No, nor for a constant heart!
For these may fail or turn to ill:
   So thou and I shall sever.
Keep therefore a true woman's eye,
And love me still, but know not why!
So hast thou the same reason still
   To doat upon me ever.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Since School is fair to middlin'...

Now playing: Cris Velasco - Minotaur Boss Battle
via FoxyTunes

...I'll talk about leisure for a bit instead.

I finally finished the first God of War, and it really is quite a good game. I'd say it covers the "epic" base where Devil May Cry covers the "badass."

The three moments that I knew it was an awesome game are as follows...

- The beginning of the road to Athens, where you climb a large set of stairs to an overlook of an enormous plain where the host of Athens is gathered. And right there in the middle of the battlefield stands Ares, monstrously large, scooping up soldiers by the handful and crushing them. I knew I was in for a tough time when the camera crested the stairway and brought that sight into view.

- Near the end of the game I found myself (that is, the main character, Kratos) trapped by Ares in some trans-dimensional area with my resurrected wife and child, defending them from scores of doppelgangers. And the clincher was that the circle button, which had been used to deliver all sorts of pain to enemies and the occasional (off screen) sexual act (God of War definitely earned its "mature" rating) was now used to embrace his family, transferring some of his health to them in order to keep them from dying at the hands of the evil clones. After a full game of ripping, stabbing, dismembering, and otherwise annihilating scores of baddies, as well as many un-heroic acts on the part of Kratos, I found this tender mode of gameplay very touching, made especially so by the battle going on around his loved ones.

- Finally, the grand finale of the Challenge of Hades in Pandora's Temple: a giant, steampunk minotaur who can literally chew Kratos up and spit him out, all while the amazing soundtrack blasts hellishly in the background. Observe...



Enough, More Later.
- James

You know when it's a good time to blog...

Now playing: Rodrigo y Gabriela - Diablo Rojo
via FoxyTunes

...when you've got two finals back to back the next day, both in foreign languages. At least they're late in the day, so I can have the morning to study.

Good ol' Preston bounced me this link, and I found it wondrous fascinating...

http://www.thevalve.org/go/valve/article/the_prosody_of_itaking_the_hobbits_i/

If I may be so bold as to quote him (as he always does sum things up rather nicely), it's a "Perfect example of using something very accessible as a doorway into something that's not." Though the subject may be right up my alley, it certainly doesn't mean that it's everyone's.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Busy and Not Busy

Now playing: Solas - The Ploughman
via FoxyTunes

So what have I been up to? Uploading things like this...



and like this...



The whole collection can be found here. I'm quite proud of it, and still have more to add. And yes, I'm doing quite well in all my classes, thanks. :P

Enough, More Later.
- James

Catch Up

Currently in Earphones: "Partition" Soundtrack by Brian Tyler

So I had a wonderful time with the ladyfriend this past weekend, though I caught her cold. Though having pancakes for breakfast, lying in the grass in the Arboretum, and holding hands while drinking tea more than made up for it.

However, let it be said that I do like to get paid for work. Missing my normal hours on account of being told, in a good-natured fashion, to "Go away until you're not contagious," does make me worried. Especially since I had 7 perfectly good sick hours snatched away from me on account of the fact that they were earned in a different department. Robbery, I say.

Need to start work on my papers for Origins of Rhetoric and Medieval Latin. That AND the Berkeley Tournament this weekend AND me being sick may be a little much, but I'll be damned if I miss the third Collegiate tournament for the third time in a row.

And now, a wide change in topics due to my disease-addled brain: This looks really awesome and I want one. And it ages, like a fine wine. The light actually AGES. Flippin' sweet.

Also, my newest flash game fixation: Vector Tower Defense. I can't seem to get past level 40...on the easy maps. Anyone out there with some strategy?

Yeah, that's about it. More after the ensuing academic and athletic craziness.

Enough, More Later.
- James

For Those who would like a recap....

Now playing: E Nomine - Mitternacht
via FoxyTunes


Here's a fantastic video highlighting what's happened so far with the whole Anonymous vs. Scientology foofarow...

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x4cr9g_the-road-to-february-10-2008_politics

Enjoy!

Enough, More Later.
- James

Why I can't finish The Fountainhead

Currently in Earphones: "Walking with Dinosaurs Live" Soundtrack by James Brett

First a little section from a nicely translated version of the "Goliardic Confession" by the Archpoëta (if you're wondering about that spelling, see diaeresis, to which the umlaut is a young, upstart pretender)...

"There are poets, worthy men,
Shrink from public places,
And in lurking-hole or den
Hide their pallid faces;
There they study, sweat, and woo
Pallas and the Graces,
But bring nothing forth to view
Worth the girls' embraces.

Fasting, thirsting, toil the bards,
Swift years flying o'er them;
Shun the strife of open life,
Tumults of the forum;
They, to sing some deathless thing,
Lest the world ignore them,
Die the death, expend their breath,
Drowned in dull decorum. "

(Complete, yet oddly lengthly, translation here. Original Latin, strangely missing these verses, here)

Pertinent to the following? Perhaps.

So, it's been a good few months since I've put down The Fountainhead, mainly because I finally threw up my hands and read the plot synopsis on Wikipedia. I can't honestly say that it's a bad book: The story is intriguing and the characters original. I suppose one could say that my problem is with Rand's philosophy. Now I'm all for the celebration of the individual and all that jazz, but to me the protagonist, Roark, skirts too close a line to being altogether less-than-human.

What I find completely maddening is that the line is so widely blurred. One could argue that he functions as his character dictates and as Rand's philosophy dictates, which isn't hard to do considering how distastefully Rand paints all he stands against. I couldn't give you an example that couldn't be countered somewhere, but the closest I can come to is his brutal rape of Dominique. As her character twistedly compliments Roark's, proponents could argue that it was what she wanted and did her no harm. However, in the general sense, when was rape ever a good thing to begin with?

This may be a single point in a very large work, but for me it crests the wave of rationalizations and paves the way to firmly illustrating the bigger points of unease. Being true to yourself is a good maxim in general, but to pursue it past the point of social rationality to me denies an essential element of humanity. Sure, there are folk out there who function just dandy on no social interaction and a hermetical lifestyle. But they are a small slice of a very big, and very varied human pie.

I don't begrudge the people for whom Objectivism works and gives them happiness. But I DO begrudge the same system of philosophy which makes the greater majority of people alone and unhappy because it squelches social necessities under the guise of individualism. For those of you who skipped the Nathanial Branden article due to TL:DNR, here's an excerpt...

"...I re-read the opening chapter of The Fountainhead. It really is a great book. I noticed something in the first chapter I never noticed before. Consider these facts: The hero has just been expelled from school, he is the victim of injustice, he is misunderstood by virtually everyone, and he himself tends to find other people puzzling and incomprehensible. He is alone; he has no friends. There is no one with whom he can share his inner life or values. So far, with the possible exception of being expelled from school, this could be a fairly accurate description of the state of the overwhelming majority of adolescents. There is one big difference: Howard Roark gives no indication of being bothered by any of it. He is serenely happy within himself. For average teenagers, this condition is agony. They read The Fountainhead and see this condition, not as a problem to be solved, but as a condition they must learn to be happy about -- as Roark is. All done without drugs! What a wish-fulfillment that would be! What a dream come true! Don't bother learning to understand anyone. Don't bother working at making yourself better understood. Don't try to see whether you can close the gap of your alienation from others, at least from some others, just struggle for Roark's serenity -- which Rand never tells you how to achieve. This is an example of how The Fountainhead could be at once a source of great inspiration and a source of great guilt, for all those who do not know how to reach Roark's state."

Sic Dicta Est. And when it comes to The Fountainhead as a story, I found that it ended exactly as I thought it would. Sure, there were some character arcs I didn't expect, but I would have finished out the thousand-odd pages to nothing that a 5 minute perusal of a summary of Objectivism could tell me. The protagonist is finally recognized for the genius he is, despite the fact that he is stubborn, hermetical, and sociopathic. The antagonist fails miserably despite being competent, friendly, loving and flexible. Tell me this doesn't sound like some emo early-teen's wish-fulfillment fantasy. Rand's idea of a hero is too close to some dark alternate-universe version of a Mary Sue for me to take seriously.

I started reading The Fountainhead because I wanted to get a better idea of Rand's philosophy and because I wanted to read a good story. Little did I know that I already had a fair idea of Rand's philosophy, and found myself not caring about the story halfway through. My last rationalization for reading her work is that Atlas Shrugged is an "important" book to have read. This may fall through if it's anything like The Fountainhead, but I'm willing to give it a try in the name of literature, just don't expect to see my thoughts on it unless it turns my thinking around. Considering all I've just said, not bloody likely.

Enough, More Later.
- James

Go, Anon, Go!

Currently in Earphones: "Robin Hood" soundtrack by Andy Price

I'm out there in spirit, and am greatly looking forward to the news and videos that are sure to pop up on YouTube shortly.

Also, as a preview for a more lengthly post later ("Why I can't finish The Fountainhead"), a link to something I've probably already posted before. The Benefits and Hazards of the Philosophy of Ayn Rand

Also, Dicewars! Kinda like Risk on speed. See how addicted you become.

Thirdly, Captain Disillusion. Another one (stylishly, and for the YouTube Age) joins the ranks of Randi and Carroll.

And finally, some wag created a database a la Bash for.....Limericks? It's everything I'd hoped it would be.

Enough, More Later.
- James

A little more on the subject....

Now playing: Marco Beltrami - Ben Takes The Stage / Dan's Burden
via FoxyTunes


WONDERFUL. I love this person's thoughts. Along with Wise Beard Man, required viewing for any and all Anonymous.


Enough, More (on this subject) later.
- James

Because I think it would be worth mentioning...

Currently in Earphones: "Tomorrow Never Dies" Soundtrack by David Arnold

(Arrg, Blogger isn't letting me embed the image, click it to see the whole animation)

This should be interesting.

Enough, More (Thoughts on the subject) Later.
- James

...the Fuck?

Currently in Earphones: The whacked out techno of the first video...


Seriously, what the fuck?

(Also, Fuck Yeah!)


Edit: Yeah, the first video does make some good points, I still give a bit WTF to the Engrish, among other things.

Also, concerning the second video, I'm simply happy that folk are hopping mad and not gonna take it anymore, not specifically that I laud Anonymous up one side and down the other. Case in point, I very much like this Robert Todd Carroll-like fellow: Epic Win, but yoar doin it wrong

Enough, more later.
- James

Another part of my childhood mutates

Currently in Earphones: Two Journeys by Tim O'Brien


So I had heard rumblings that a number of dinos had been reclassified as, indeed, being feathered creatures. It didn't hit home until today, when I was perusing Wikipedia and found the pages on our favorite raptors all of a sudden had new pictures. It was jarring only in that I'd known these guys from my dinosaur books of old for so long as scaly, grim lizards.

The bird/dino connection has been around for a while, and makes perfect sense. Archaeopteryx has stood as a testament to that since when I was a wee one. Despite it's faulty portrayal of Velociraptors, Jurassic Park made sure to point out how similar the Dromaeosauridae are to birds. Now I'm not sure what new discovery prompted the feathered shift that seems to have just occurred, if the cultural image was considered too ingrained or the new one too jarring. Whatever the reason, I wonder how the Walking with Dinosaurs aggregate (touted as damn-well researched series, which I quite agree with) will cope, given that they've now started their Live tour around the US with decidedly old-school dinos.

I don't feel robbed or anything, just slightly off kilter. Eventually I'll get used to it, but it certainly feels quite the shift, even though this is information about a species long since extinct. That's cultural relevance for you, I guess.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Belated Happy New Year and all that Jazz....

Currently in Earphones: American and British Folk Songs sung by the Westminster Choir


So winter break is drawing to a close, and what a break it was! The events in no particular order...

- I started to gather supplies to create a few bookshelves for my room in the Bay, and I'm currently waiting for the weather to dry out before I actually put them together.

- My lovely girlfriend came up to visit and we spent a number of days sightseeing.

- Christmas saw a good amount of loot. Damn I got a lot of CD's!

- I went and saw Walking with Dinosaurs: The Live Experience. My inner six year old was rejuvenated.

- My last grandparent died and my dad flew across the country to be with my aunt. The small glimmer of fun was that I helped him pick out a traveling laptop. That's life for you, I guess.

- I got a lovely pile of new books to read for pleasure, and more are on the way. This will come in handy because...

- I learn that the power is out in Davis due to these crazy storms we've been having. I'm actually somewhat titillated at the thought of using candles, but I bet it'll get old quick. At least it'll only be for a few days.

- I have gotten crazy hooked on The Wire. BEST DAMN SHOW EVER.


Yeah, that about covers it. Back to Davis and dear Academia soon.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Busy busy busy

Currently in Earphones: "Way Down in the Hole" by Tom Waits


So, between making some shelves (from scratch!) for my ever increasing book collection, playing an interesting game of Lexicon, getting addicted to The Wire, Alison visiting in a few days, Dickens Fair, running hither and thither with the parents, and the general hyper attitude of the holidays, I'm not going to have much time to post. See you all in the new year and the new quarter, most likely.


Enough, More Later.
- James

You know what's awesome?...

Currently in Earphones: "Ultraman: Towards the Future Opening Theme" by Shinsuke Kazato


...when you revisit something neat from you're childhood and find that it's still just as kick-ass now as it was then, even if you can see its flaws.

Case in point: back when I was a young thing in the early nineties, a show called Ultraman: Towards the Future came out, and after a few episodes, I thought it was the bees knees. Giant Monsters, a hero who shot laser beams out of his hands, futuristic weaponry and vehicles, and a sweet soundtrack. It had it all, and I watched the 3 or so episodes I had the forethought to catch on tape over and over again.

I had an inkling that it originally was Nipponese in origin, but the fact that it was in English made it seem like the rest of the sci-fi shows at the time. The difference being that my 6-7 year old mind thought it was the most AWESOMEIST THING EVAR.

Spring forward to today, when for some reason the show popped into my head again. In my "Should be studying for finals, thus goofing off," mode of thinking, I log on to YouTube and find a plethora of clips from the TV show. Despite the special effects looking rather dated and the Kaiju nature of the show looking silly in places (which is kinda the point), I still loved every second that I found. Here is my reasoning.

1. The Kick-Ass Orchestral Score: I don't know how many hours I wasted looking for the soundtrack to Ultraman at my local record stores, but it was a lot. The main theme may borrow a bit from Williams and his contemporaries, but it's still a magnificent song in it's own right.

2. They shot the monster slug-fests with juuuuust the right amount of slow-mo: Though I know that the appeal of most Kaiju is the camp factor, the camera-work for U:TTF gave the men in the suits enough weight to lend more credence to the idea that they're 10 stories tall. But then again, how much realism can you really have in such a show?

3. The rest of the generally high (at the time) production values: Really, those are some nice looking 'splosions. And the dialogue may be hammy at times, but the actors look like they're having fun, which makes up for it.

Anywho, I was pleasantly surprised to see that I still enjoyed U:TTF, even after the space of 15 years.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Thoughts on The Golden Compass

Currently in Earphones: Bioshock Score by Garry Schyman


Edit: Thanks for the notes friends, but I *did* see the trailer. Yes, I know they shot the original ending of the book and have decided to put it at the beginning of Subtle Knife. I thought that by mentioning how the general public was placated by end of the movie demonstrated my knowledge of the fact that they cut it for that purpose. I don't live under a rock! I have internet! Plus, if you're a hardcore fan (to whom this would matter), I don't need to mention something ya'll already know on my blog. Sorry if the above sounds snarky, for the couple of good friends who made the point, but I was getting a little tired of having my fanboy knowledge second guessed.


- A Full Theater = Awesome.

- Over half the audience having read the book = Super Awesome.

- The fact that those who read the book also didn't know about the major change to the ending = not so awesome.



So, all in all, I applaud Chris Weitz' work on adapting Pullman's novel to the big screen. It hit all the right notes for me and I was happy with all the trimming that had to be done for the sake of pacing. Of course, I'd have wanted more of the parts of the book that I enjoyed, i.e. more Iorek and Ragnar Iofur Ragnar, more Lee Scoresby (and a sadly neglected Hester!), and more Asriel.

The upshot of having so many fans of the book at the theater was the enthusiasm. I love it when people get so into a movie that they cheer or vocalize. I may have been spoiled by watching the particularly gory Planet Terror right before, but I actually found the shocking end to the polar bear duel almost clinical. I was happy that the majority of the audience gave a collective "PHWOAH! Did I just SEE that?" when Iofur's Ragnar's jaw went flying past the camera, and I still think that Ian McShane's culminating "IS THAT....ALL?!?!" speech was the shit (matched only by Iorek's response).

Speaking of the panserbjørne, I love me my Ian McKellen. But I always felt that Iorek would have been more middle aged, and as full of gravitas as McKellen's voice is, it just sounded too old to me. I really would have liked to hear Nonso Anozie's work (and he was slated for a while, you can hear him for about two seconds on the "contract with a child" line in one of the teaser trailers).

Also, Derek Jacobi is awesome, even as a bad guy. And did Christopher Lee know he was only getting one line? Or have I become so used to him being a major player in any film I see that I find it hard to believe when he gets a cameo?

Bravo for the most part, Mr. Weitz. But boo on you for making all the wrong people (fans of the book) mock, deride, and outright laugh at the criminally hacked ending. Yes, the general public went out going "Well that was new and interesting;" I guess it was simply the luck of getting a large amount of people familiar with the book in the same screening as I.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Filmic Rant

Currently in Earphones: Beowulf soundtrack by Alan Silvestri


So, lots of academia on the plate and the siren song of the Blog calls once again. Next time I'll stuff cotton into my ears and have Moose tie me to a bedpost. You'll pardon me if I descend into a ZeroPunctuation-style rant, but I've had a healthy dose of Croshaw's wit and the snarky, venomous metaphors in me are aching to see the light of day.

I'd like to take a moment to voice my inherent dislike of any film by Wes Anderson. I'll begin with a caveat that I have never seen any of his films in full, but I have caught the last 15 minutes of The Royal Tenenbaums and even then I had no desire to know what happened for the first 90. Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate character driven work, but I'm always getting this odd vibe from Anderson's films. There's this glum apathy that seems to ooze from every poster, the characters lined up and staring straight ahead blankly, that begs for attention: "Look at me! I'm trying SO HARD to be a French-influenced tragicomedy!" Who knows, the films may indeed succeed in that aspect, but I'm not a snobby film student who gets a high from watching reel after reel of depressing conversations.

OK sure, most films of this genre tend to have some good moments of absurdist comedy thrown in to balance out the downers, but I really couldn't find any sort of release in the few trips to the Department of Strange Back-story that the director makes. Really Wes, while you don't need to have a stand up comic pop up out of nowhere to deliver a few jokes, please try have moments that will at least get a rise out of me. Maybe I'm just spoiled by the ultra-absurdist stylings of Beckett and Stoppard that are so off-the-wall that they become funny, or perhaps they simply have a better sense of humor than Anderson does. Call me strange but I'd be more inclined to see a film about the bleak way that the gears of life turn if a friend mentioned in the same breath that it was also somewhat humorous. Having never heard such a thing from the few friends of mine that enjoy these films, I'm more likely to shun these celluloid tales like a black turtlenecked, beret wearing art student sitting smugly in the back of a coffee shop.

Maybe I'm just a starry-eyed dreamer with his head in the clouds, but I was under the impression that we watched movies to be entertained, to be taken somewhere and shown something that normally doesn't happen. I'm not saying that every film needs to be some foolishly hopeful escapist fantasty, but I don't settle down in the theater to relive the experience of seeing promising people stuck in dead end jobs, chafing under a dysfunctional family, or dealing with the everyday gremlins of boredom and purposeless. Really, real life does that fine for me, I don't need to re-tread those paths by sitting in a dark room with a giant image in front of me for an extended period of time. If I do go see a tragic film, you can be damn sure there will be characters I can root for to whom bad shit will go down.

In sum, I think I might start going to see Wes Anderson films the minute the promotional materials stop looking like oddly placed police line-ups. However, since there seems to be little chance of that happening, I'll continue to see the unrealistic, rose-colored and implausable films that I wouldn't mind paying a wad of cash for.


Enough, More Later.
- James

The Deep Breath before the Plunge

Now playing: George Fenton - The Beach in Patagonia
via FoxyTunes


So what does one do when you're in the 9th week of classes, got papers and projects due soon, and have those few days when you don't really need to start anything, but really should? You Blog!

The Cal Poly Turkey Tourney was all right, fencing wise. I placed middlingly and hope to do better in the upcoming collegiate events. What made it really good was that my girlfriend came up from Santa Barbara to visit, and I spent a wonderful evening in downtown San Luis with her after the tournament.

Ironically, a few days later I returned to SLO to spend the Thanksgiving vacation with my family. I had hoped to piggyback a trip to visit my girlfriend in LA on the last few days, but transportation fell through. And speaking of transportation, I'm still grateful to Daniele giving me a ride there and back. Hopefully I didn't bore her too much with my overly-Tim-O'Brien-ed travel mixes, and hopefully I have found a new Cribbage buddy in her. I'm itching for a good go with the pegs, and perhaps I can get a game or two out of her once school calms down a bit.

The Davis Photo Rally is this Saturday! Toes and I are trying to get at least 3 teams going, though we're rocking the "resource less college student" card, as the scoring ceremony will be at our house, on my laptop. Please let me know if you are interested!

Crap, I just spent half an hour looking at fonts to spice up the Photo Rally packet. Time to get to some real schoolwork!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Observations

Now playing: Solas - Boy / Girl Tune
via FoxyTunes


- Next time we throw a party, we're having more food, or more control over the bar.

- I really want a USFA rating. Evidently I'm good enough, but it looks like I'm really gonna have to earn it through multiple tries at rated events. Look for me at DFA when open tournaments roll around, I should have a new body cord by then (for the record, it's really frightening when you're in your DE's and it looks like all your equipment is failing due to a single wire being out of place)

- I need to start my Latin paper and finish it in a week, and as usual, I'm being a lazy bastard. I'm getting on it as soon as I finish writing this post, damn it.

- I'm really warming up to Umberto Eco. I devoured The Name of the Rose and a collection of his short articles, and am now relishing (mostly) Baudolino. I should get back and finish Focault's Pendulum one of these days.

- Whenever I have a sip of green Chartreuse, I tend to wig out like Stansfield after a dose. It's that damn intense. I'm switching to the yellow because the taste is darn interesting, but I don't want to feel like I'm drinking straight Absinthe (which is roughly the same proof).


Enough, More Later.
- James

The Rally Cometh!

Currently in Earphones: "Wandering" by Tim O'Brien


It's official! Toes and I have gotten our acts together and the first Davis Photo Rally will commence on December 1st of this year. Here is the janky website I threw together solely to host the better constructed and thought out leaflets.

http://www.geocities.com/davisphotorally/

I've already created a Facebook group and sent out the invites, but if any of you all are interested, please don't hesitate to call me or Toes. Though it's gonna be somewhat close to finals for the Davis folk, I hope it'll allow sufficient time for studying. Besides, it's only the one day. I have hope that we can get at least 3 if not 4 teams going, which should be enough, but I hope to be pleasantly surprised by more. It's a whole month and then some away, so that should be enough time for all the maybes to figure things out.

In other news, things go well with Lovely Weird Girl. We talked for almost an hour on the phone tonight, and that makes me happy. I'm very much looking forward to seeing her at Cal Poly next month, and hope that we can visit each other at some point over Christmas break. At the moment, life is good :).


Enough, More Later.
- James

The Reckoning is at Hand

Currently in Earphones: Fiddler's Green by Tim O'Brien


I now have my new phone, and have buckled and used Facebook to get numbers back. Hopefully I can re-populate the list in a short time and have this whole mess behind me.

Things continue to go well with Lovely Weird Girl (a play on her name for me, as she has deigned to mention me in her own blog). Hopefully things will also go well when we meet in the near future. I'm confident about the whole thing: the attraction is definitely there, and while we both may be cautious, I think it'll be all right.

Back to fiddling with my new phone. Why do they always change the phone OS just as I get used to using the old one? Bahhh.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Time for a big ol' bowl of crow....

Currently in Earphones: Transformers score by Steve Jablonsky


I suppose a perk of Facebook is that you have the ability, should it befall you, to message everyone you know and ask for phone numbers should your own phone go down in flames. However, it has always seemed to me that everyone and their brother has created a group "Help, my phone just died!" or "I need everyone's number again, please" or "Oh n0ez!!1 Mai f0ne justz got br1kzed!!!1H@X!!!" and I can't help but shake my head and sigh whenever yet another one of those pops up on the news feed (which itself has latched on to me like some crustacean-like parasite, at first ugly and grim, but now which gives me magic update powers that I am loath to give up).

Needless to say, my own day of reckoning has just arrived, in that my trusty cell phone of two years has finally decided to start croaking on me. I had thought myself safe from having a dead phone, as the brick I had owned before my current one functioned right up to the day I replaced it. This leads me to two crotchety conclusions...

1. They really DON'T make things like they used to.
2. There most likely IS a big conspiracy out there to manufacture things that break on a schedule, thus forcing the consumer to buy even more souped up products that they, in all likelihood, don't need.

This point is driven home by the fact that I just took out my old phone, and it STILL works, even claiming to have a half-charge of battery left after slowly combining with the surface of my desk drawer for years.

In conclusion, I don't think my foolish pride will make me resort to Facebook to solve my ills, but to all few of you who read my blog, know that I may need your numbers again soon. Although I am getting sporadic interludes of work-itude from my dying phone, I have a sinking feeling that this is the end.

And watch me go back for a second helping of crow when I find out that the only real way to get most of my numbers back is to go on Facebook. Gah!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Back to the old rhythms once again

Currently in Earphones: Live Wizardry: The Best of Silly Wizard in Concert


So, class has started up again, and I hope that I haven't signed a death-wish by taking both Latin and Greek at the same time. I figure I only have one more year, and have been told numerous times that I should at least have a little Greek under my belt if I plan on continuing with the Classics into grad school. So, Greek 1 it is, and so far, quite fun! The alphabet is just alien enough to instill a sense of cool in learning it, but is also familiar enough not to be totally incompatible with English (though the lowercase Nu (v) and the uppercase Eta (H) still goof me every once and a while). I'm guessing that I'll be cursing it come the second or third quarter, when its many moods (i.e. indicative, subjunctive, optative) come into play.

Latin looks to be more of the same, though Sallust writes in a really short and halting style. This inconcinnitas is evidently what he was aiming for, though it's fun when you have to figure out what verb he hasn't included in the rambling sentence devoid of anything but nouns and adjectives. And by "fun" I mean "rather annoying, yet still strangely enjoyable."

Classics 10: Mythology looks to be a blast, and only two exams to be accountable for! No homework or papers or anything! And it's all about classical myth, what more could you want?

(un)Fortunately, UWP 104C: Journalism takes up the writing slack. The prof. is wonderfully down to earth and blunt, which is greatly refreshing after endless bland professors over the past few years. He's good natured about it too, so no-one gasped when a straggler showed up 10 minutes late and he wryly quipped "You're late, damnit!" The amount of writing doesn't look terribly much, but enough to drive off the snooty sorority chicks looking for an easy A.

I had a good scare when I found out that the last class that I need to take for my degree isn't offered this year. I had a day where the next two years were up in the air until I chatted with my adviser. Luckily, the Classics department is fairly lenient on the subject, and they'll allow a sensible substitution, of which the Rhetoric class or Greek Tragedy course was offered as an option. I think I'll take the former and be done with it, though I'll stay through spring in order to finish out lower division Greek and maybe take a few more music courses. Still, a mighty weight off my mind, that.

I also chatted with Michael Sands, head of the Baroque Ensemble, when between classes today. He mentioned that we might be doing Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, which would be wonderfully cool. I got a recording of it my freshman year and fell in love with it, so it would be neat if we got a chance to give it a whirl. The first meet is tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to that with excitement.

Fencing has recommenced, and with what a send off! We had at least 20 new newbs show up on the first practice, which is a record since all the way back when I first started with the club 3 years ago. All the officers and elder fencers were ecstatic to see so many fresh faces, I was absolutely extroverted with giddiness. And to boot, a bunch of the elder fencers fenced (and look to be fencing for much longer) Epee, so much that we had two strips going for a time. Toeswas being his usual self; in that he managed to miss my entire body and peg me in the off-hand that I was deliberately holding up and out of the way. On a closing note, it's only taken me 3 years to realize the perks of showing up late, past the unreasonably strenuous warm ups, such that I actually have the energy to fence when free fencing comes up. You'll be seeing me show up on the half-hour this year, folks, and make no mistake! Maybe this time I'll have the energy to learn some quickness and finally be somewhat decent on the strip.

That's about it for the time being, I'll fill in on the ladyfriend when more comes up: If I'm lucky, I'll get to see her at the Cal Poly Fencing Tournament. Until then, folks!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Lyrics again? Sheesh!

Currently in Earphones: "Corazon Espinado" by Santana


Don't know how often I'll find a song that takes me back to how I felt so long ago, but I can't seem to stop finding them...


Corazón Espinado

Esa mujer, is taking my soul
Left a thorn inside my heart
The more I try to forget her
The more I...I fall apart

Corazón abandonado!
Nobody here, just my shadow
She took my heart, my soul
She took it all
Now she's gone, she's gone and left me alone.

Chorus:
Ah, Ah, Ah, corazón espinado
Come back baby, I'm falling apart
Ah, Ah, Ah, She left a thorn in my heart

Ah this hurts, how hurts this corazón!
When you completely surround her,
I know it's always been said
Every rose has it's thorn
Ay ay ya! Can't take this pain anymore

Chorus

How it hurts me el olvido,
How it hurts el corazón,
How it hurts me estar vivo,
'Cuz I can't stand this pain anymore,

Corazón Espinado!


Thank goodness life moves on, and though we may never forget the past (and why would we throw out the bad with the good?), it's always good to know there are still others out there who like you.

Enough, More Later.
- James

Changes, mostly for the interesting

Currently in Earphones: Ilan Eskheri's score to Stardust, once again, and X-Ray Dog's Cerberus


So as the summer winds down, things start happening as people return from vacation, jobs hit the home stretch, and everything else that's been in a holding pattern starts to descend to the runway seemingly to keep the rest of the goings-on company.

Firstly, and most recently, Moose has returned to the house on Scripps Drive. I'm thankful for the company as the past few days have been rather forlorn, though with brief flashes of sunlight as people come and go. Phil has been doing his usual popping in and out existence, and I had the pleasure of Sophia's and Nichole's company for all of half an hour as they stopped by for a quick shower on their way to and from the Draft Horse get-together. It'll be nice to have a more permanent house-mate for the next few days, even if the difference in our sleep schedules causes me to growl occasionally.

Second, we're finally cleaning things up at the job for the last time, as we will wash our hands of keeping the dorms tidy once the freshman move in. There's something satisfying about cleaning, checking, re-checking and finally locking for good rooms that you've spent your entire summer cleaning over and over and over again. I've never quite felt more like my parents as when I would come in to clean with my co-workers and think (for the umpteenth time) "I just cleaned this! Honestly, some people...." Nor indeed have I ever felt so thankful to see rooms that tenants had left in a good state of repair after their departure. Yet another blue collar job experience under my belt, and hopefully more money in my pocket as I finish out by helping the little ones move in and perhaps getting tipped by a few grateful parents.

Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly in my book, I have had the wondrous good fortune to meet a lovely lady who seems to like my company just as much as I like hers. As a visiting high school friend of one of my fencer friends, she showed up to a little soirée that Phil hosted at our place on Saturday night. I stayed with the revelers (a good bunch that night) for the obligatory gulp of alcohol and the real (!) Absinthe that Mr. Wild brought along, but I found myself most drawn to this new (and very tall) young lady and spent a good part of the evening with her. Let us say that I never felt quite as much of a serenader as I did then.

We both had the same love of antiquities, though she edged me out in the knowledge of history (and why not, as she has two academic years and a degree on me), while I fancied that I had a squidge more experience in the languages, though not by much. The next day a group of us went hiking in Muir Woods, and aside from having lots of fun traveling on trails and Indiana Jones-ing through the underbrush, I had an opportunity to display my clumsy gallantry as she accidentally twisted her ankle, and I gave her what moral and physical support I was able on the narrow trails of the canyon. Apparently my gallantry wasn't as clumsy as I thought, for we throughly enjoyed each other's company on the car trip back to Davis.

Though she goes to school in Santa Barbara, each of us has expressed a desire to see each other again, of which I am very happy about. Though the where-to's and the why-for's are still only a nebulous fancy, we are continuing to get to know each other better. I hope these first few steps are a sign of good things to come, for her company and conversation have become very dear to me over a very short period of time, and that has to count for something.

I apologize for the lack of details on the whole subject, but I found that she enjoys a good amount of privacy (seriously, try to find her on Facebook, I dare you), and don't want to blab any potentially traceable information on my blog, as the internet is a highly public place. Friends and family, you know to ask if you want clarification.

That's it for now, catch you on the flip side, when classes (finally!) begin to start up around the end of the month.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Much needed rest, and a Late Anecdote

Currently in Earphones: "Tomorrow Never Dies" video game soundtrack by Tommy Tallarico


So now I'm back in Davis after a wonderful, restful week at home. Not only did I manage to get on to a decent sleep schedule, but I got a handful of fantastic presents for my birthday on the 7th, many well wishes by Facebook and by phone, and a great day gallivanting about San Francisco with Toes, Moose, and Sascha.

For the record, I need to find out what the hours are at Boudin's Bakery on Market Street. I have been thwarted the past few times I've gone there looking for a yummy bread-bowl full of soup, and I can't seem to figure out their cryptic system of opening and closing. I can understand them not being open on Sundays, but when we arrived there at lunchtime on a Saturday, needless to say I was perplexed.

In the end, much fun was had by all, and I believe I speak for all who came that the playground at Yerba Buena Gardens is one of the best out there.

As to the other order of business, and as surely most of you know by now, I had a rather embarrassing goof at work a few weeks ago. It was 3 o'clock and we had all of 20 minutes left before we took off to our respective homes. Our supervisor asked us to go take out the trash in a couple of rooms that had been used by a Conference group who had just checked out, but the only snag was that there were two rooms (i.e., suites) that still had not been vacated yet.

Now, groups that use the dorms as Summer Conference housing need to check out by noon on their last day. That's policy. However, we try not to be hard-asses about it, because we know it can be difficult to get everything ready and out if there are other things planned. As such, if people still aren't out by 1 or 2, we don't raise a fuss. Apparently we don't raise a fuss if it's 3 either, but that's starting to push the limits of our kindness.

Needless to say, it was well after a full 3 hours of slop-over time that we came through these rooms, and even then, we were initially told to skip the two rooms that still appeared to be occupied. I went with a couple of my co-workers to collect the trash, and found a lady outside the rooms on a cell phone, who probably was with the group who had stayed and had almost all left. I kindly informed her that we were custodians and simply taking out the trash, and would it be all right if we simply popped in and popped out with it? She agreed that it wouldn't raise a fuss, and I made for the first suite, figuring that I'd ninja through and no-one would tell the difference anyway.

Bear in mind that we go through rooms with people's stuff in them for the "Deluxe" services (i.e., fresh linens every day) all the time, so we were accustomed to sweeping through and getting things changed without difficulty. Sure enough, the first suite had suitcases and the like sitting around, but everything looked like it was on it's way out. I collected the trash from each of the two bedrooms and made my exit, happy that I had taken the initiative.

I was given the master key to the building so we could get into the rooms we needed, but I found the front door of the second suite completely unlocked, which will become my Exhibit A in this soon-to-become sordid affair. After a small knock and querelous "Hello?" on my part and utter silence on the suite's part, I noticed how belongings and trash were scattered all over the rooms, like the occupants hadn't even considered moving out yet (Exhibit B). I made my way over to the first room and found it unused.

When dealing with rooms that could be potentially occupied, there are two ways to go about it. The first is to be obviously noisy, such that if there are any people in compromising situations they have time to give fair warning. The second is to be silent in all respects, such that if there are people who need quiet (that is, are sick or sleeping), you don't disturb them with your work. While we usually marry the two together, in that if we come across a locked door, we call out before opening it, but maintain silence otherwise, I tend to be more on the quiet side. That way I can ninja about and get things done without disturbing anyone, which is almost always the case.

It was in such a stealthy respect that I approached the second room. The suite is set up to have a single bathroom with toilet and shower, conjoined by two washrooms that have a sink and a mirror, each belonging to either bedroom. While you need to cross the miniscule hallway to get from the first bedroom to the first washroom, the second bedroom is conjoined with the second washroom, and is usually immediately off to the left or right as soon as you enter it. The door to the bedroom was wide open (Exhibit 3) as I stepped in and looked about, noticing the same lack of order and packing that had plagued the common room of the suite.

The trouble started when I took two steps into the room and turned to my right to take a look into the washroom. Much to my consternation, I found myself staring at the back of a naked woman, who (thankfully) was obscuring an equally naked man. Despite getting completely flustered, I managed to keep my mouth shut just long enough to turn on my heel, and as I tore ass out of the suite managed a "Oh God, I'm so sorry!" over my shoulder. I heard sounds of surprise as I dashed out, but was so full of fear that I took off out and around the building itself.

I sprinted my way back to the break room, which happened to be in the same building, and took a few moments to calm myself. "Alright," I said to myself, "Catch your breath. Just lay low here for a bit. They didn't see you, and chances are they're just as embarrassed as you are. This should blow over in a bit, so just relax." Just as I begin to calm down, my co-workers come in with perplexed looks on their faces:

"James?"
"Yeah?"
"There's an angry woman out here, and I think she wants to talk with you."
::Oh, FUCK::

At that point, I start to get the shakes, and stammer out that I'm in no shape to confront her, and that I need to speak with our supervisor and get the whole thing straightened out. Luckily for us, we are in really high standing with the higher-ups, and as such the boss came right over to the break room and asked me what happened. After relating the story as best I could, he went to go talk with her.

I was feeling pretty horrendous as I waited for him to return, fearing the worst for my job, even though such things have been known to happen. He eventually did, and while he did chide me for my mistake, he was sympathetic and comforting as well, seeing how shook up I was. "However," he said, "You might want to lay low for a bit, say, head over to the next building and fold some clean linens." From this, of course, I caught that this woman was still stalking around looking for my head on a platter, and I was able to at least crack a smile at the absurdity of it.

Later on, I learned from my co-workers that this woman evidently didn't even have the grace to be embarrassed, as she immediately threw on a t-shirt and went after me, going so far as to accost my poorly uninformed work mates as to my whereabouts, and hover around our break room as our supervisor explained the situation to everyone else. Although I felt justified only in hiding from the whole thing, my feelings on the matter quickly went from shame to light indignation as I tallied up the facts. Not only were they hours overdue from departure, but lack of any precautions on their part and the gnarly behavior on the woman's part (though I felt a little bit better about the man, who I heard later on at least was a little shamed at having been walked in on) decidedly outbalanced the indiscretion on my part.

So, in conclusion, I walked in on a naked couple and had quite the adventure for it. The ironic thing is, of course, that if I had just kept my fool head about me and backed away slowly, the two wouldn't have noticed me, given my predilection to stealthiness. As I said at the time, "It would have been freakin' hilarious, had it not been so utterly terrifying." With time and perspective on my side, now it is simply hilarious.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Defending a lonely outpost?!?

Currently in Earphones: Tannahill Weavers IV by the Tannahill Weavers

Firstly, I'd like to direct your attentions to Preston's blog, which he has just started posting on again after finally moving into DC to attend Law School...

http://ready-fire-aim.blogspot.com/

Though he may say that he has nothing interesting to relate, I beg to differ, as his two new posts are full of excellent prose, not to mention the stellar job he and his brother did on the Rambling Rovers blog, which is a gem of a travelogue.

In the vein of people heading back to school, I once again find myself the odd man out as the majority of my friends in the Bay and those not attending UC Davis start heading back to class. While it may be nice to have the whole extra month of September to decompress, it sure as heck gets annoying when you're the only one around to enjoy it.

I almost wish school would start up soon, as I would have a dearth of friends to hang out with, and no doubt better things to relate in this blog of mine aside from lonely whinging and empty posts.

Actually, I do have a good work anecdote, possible the most interesting my work has been so far. But seeing as I'm currently in the middle of my usual small pilgrimage to the Bay for family visiting and boredom quashing, I think I'll leave that to the next post when I'm more firmly settled back in Davis.

'till next time, then!


Enough, More Later.
- James

"...There would be neither land nor sea / But yon rede brae and thou"

Currently in Earphones: "Capernaum" by the Tannahill Weavers.


First of all, the lighter news, Yes. Yes "Tonight We Shall Work" is original, of which I am extremely happy to know that people are duly impressed by my doggerel verse.

Secondly, my usual saw....


I couldn't keep the softness from my voice as I bid her farewell for the first time in ages.

What am I do to?


Enough, More Later.
- James

Had Enough of Empty

Currently in Earphones: "Inside" by Event Horizon (Gotta dig that cello opening)


Enough of grief and sadness, it's time to move on. Time to let go and begin anew, step on to a new path, and stride forward. These old roads may have many a pleasant memory in them, but no more can be gained by treading them. While these new adventures could go good or bad, the new road shall give me renewed energy. And with that energy I can look forward instead of down, and perhaps smile again as the horizon of possibility comes back into view. Yes, it is time.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Tonight, We shall Work.

Currently in Earphones: "The Twa Corbies" by Old Blind Dogs


Tonight, We shall Work.

We shall put on our boots with loathing, step out into the cold,
Retrieve our old love where it lies buried in the snow,
We shall carry it in and place it, in the dark once again,
And hasten to our work, to cleanse us of our pain.

Tonight, We shall Work.

We shall step to the forge, kindle the fires, heat the coals,
And try to blaze out the emptiness of our soul.
Give over our minds to the hammer and tongs,
And hope (with such sweat) to feel better before long.

Tonight, We shall Work.

We shall sit at the loom, speed the shuttle, begin to weave,
To lose ourselves and forget how to grieve,
Our souls we shall pour into the pattern laid bare
With deft fingers and quick mind, to lose all our care.

Tonight, We shall Work.

We shall spin the wheel, start the mould, work the clay
That we may smooth out the worries of the day.
As we wash the shape anew, so wash hate from our hands
And shape our souls like the clay, as stern fate commands.

Tonight, We shall Work.

After, we shall return to our hearth and our home
How we’ll feel, we shan’t know, either stay or to roam.
We’ll sleep as we can, at the end of long day,
And as to our dreams, they’ll come as they may.

Tonight, We shall Work.


Enough, More Later.
- James

A Story of Swords, Part 7

Currently in Earphones: George Fenton's score to Deep Blue

Well now, it's certainly been a while since this old chestnut has been wheeled out, hasn't it?

I finally dug back into my documents and found that I indeed had written full drafts of the final two chapters in my old fanfic, and figured I might as well post them in all their clunky and unrefined glory. I mentioned in a previous post concerning this little yarn that I was writing an interstitial character chapter, but I found that I simply couldn't make a full run of it on the single handful of dialog I'd come up with. As such, Chapter 3.5 will probably never see the light of day, so you can check that off your lists.

In any case, here is the final portion of the duel and the aftermath, in this seventh installment (sixth chapter) of my Story of Swords...



Chapter 6: Chance and Doom

The two young men gave themselves over to the power of their swords, swinging at each other without reserve and letting the magical knowledge and ability of the blades take over. Like tides did the powers of the swords flow against each other.

Coinspinner would press the offense, finding a lucky opening and wounding its opponent in a flash of disbelief. However, the Sword of Chance could not defend against the savage backstroke of Doomgiver, and where the power of Coinspinner receded, the Sword of Justice flowed forward, hurling back the injuries from whence they came. Whenever Touchstone lost the small shred of concentration in his reckless abandon, however, his blade would over-extend in its desire to right the wrong and wound his opponent, which then was reflected back at him by the selfsame power.

There was still a savage grace to their swordplay, their attacks and defenses becoming wide and exaggerated as their energy began to be depleted. Small wounds appeared on each swordsman as one of the swords, then the other temporarily gained the upper hand. After a particularly fierce exchange, the two opponents staggered backward and stopped, both hunched forward and breathing hard with the effort.

“Why!” panted the young lord, “Why is Doomgiver not ending me?”

“You hold the Sword of Chance, and I the Sword of Justice,” rasped Touchstone, “Either your luck is stronger than you think, or Doomgiver recognizes our feud as having no clear victim, or maybe both are true. All I know is that I see no end to this.”

“I’ll end this now!” grated Helmrune, and charged at Touchstone with his sword raised in both hands, aiming a savage downward cut at his opponents head. The young fool had time to bring his sword up and slash down at a slight angle to intercept the young Lord’s blade. The two god-forged swords clashed and locked, the two combatants snarling wordlessly over the clenched blades. Then, in pure luck, Touchstone lost his footing and tumbled backwards, landing flat on his back. As he fell, he noticed Helmrune had, in a stroke of justice, tripped in a similar fashion and likewise landed supine. Both men lay there, exhausted with the effort and accumulated wounds of their duel.

“Foolishness!”

Both young men heard the grunted word, half-spoken aloud and half-spoken softly. Each turned their head towards its origin and found Lord and Lady Ginndem standing nearby with Esther looking on from within her mother’s embrace. The Fool and the young Lord had been so absorbed in their duel that they had hardly noticed their approach.

“Foolishness!” repeated Lord Ginndem, “to see two young idiots hacking madly at each other with perhaps the most dangerous weapons to ever grace this land.”

“But…I…didn’t….” began Touchstone weakly, but was interrupted by another grunt for the Lord.

“Fah! Whatever you did or did not do doesn’t change the recklessness I saw you two wallowing in.” The young Fool thought he caught pity softening Lord Ginndem’s eyes as he approached the two fallen combatants and looked at them in turn, but it was gone in a flash. The Lord’s mouth was set in a hard line and a mixture of annoyance and anger radiated from his features.

Seeing enough, Lady Ginndem released Esther and moved forward. She appraised both of the young men and turned toward her husband, “Your displeasure notwithstanding, My Lord, these young men need rest and care. Though they have made some foolish choices, have they lost the opportunity to recover in our halls once more?”

Lord Ginndem sighed, but nodded and replied, “They haven’t, but I fear that they need to leave and grow more before they can receive a warm welcome again.” He turned to return to the Keep, while Esther and Lady Ginndem took turns in setting Helmrune and Touchstone on their feet.

Esther came to the young Fool first, but she only wordlessly bound his more major wounds with strips of cloth torn from her outer garments. He didn’t try to explain the circumstances of the duel, knowing that he would look more the fool if he did, but merely kept his eyes on the ground in shame, at both Lord Ginndem’s words and the uncomfortable silence that emanated from Esther. The one time he did look up to meet her gaze, he saw tears glistening in the corner of her eyes, and a blend of fear and sympathy widened her eyes and drew her eyebrows together. She moved away to tend to Helmrune, and Touchstone was almost relieved to hear the soothing litany of reassurances that poured forth from Lady Ginndem.

“Don’t you mind what the Lord said there; you’re not the first boy I’ve seen do foolish things when a girl is concerned. And give my daughter some time to recover: she’s never seen how dangerous such confrontations can be. Oh, these wounds are nothing serious, you’ll recover quickly, very lucky of you and the young Lord to get by with only minor cuts and punctures. We’ll need to sew a few of them up, but you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Though my husband might take a while to warm up to you again, and you would probably do well to find another place of lodging, I have seen that you’re good at heart. You’ll always get warm food and a clean bed from me if or when you return. But don’t worry about all that now, you need rest and time to heal, let’s get you back to the Keep.”

Touchstone stood with the help of Lady Ginndem, and sheathed Doomgiver into the scabbard on his left side. He turned to look at Helmrune, who was likewise being helped up by Esther, and who groped around to find Coinspinner. Finding that the blade had disappeared from his hand, bitter tears began to streak down the young Lord’s face. Esther, her sympathy winning over her fear that she likewise had for him, threw her arms around Helmrune, but he remained oblivious as he leaned against her for support. Touchstone barely had the energy to ponder his loss as he was helped to the Keep, and only had time to appreciate the circularity of being placed in the same bed that he recovered in when he had first arrived, for he knew that this was the last night he would be spending with the Ginndem Clan.

He didn’t see any of Esther as he was attended during the evening by Lady Ginndem, who washed his wounds and brought him food. Doomgiver had done a good job of countering Coinspinner, as the wounds he received were small and healed quickly. As he lay in bed, he could imagine how Helmrune and Esther were most likely being drawn closer together through the aftermath, he in his grief finally opening up to her and she thus finding out his good qualities. The young Lord was a good man, Touchstone finally admitted to himself, although bitterly, and Esther would make a good choice in choosing him.


Enough, More Later.
- James

The wind will blow aye forever mare...

Currently in Earphones: Old Blind Dog's album, Close to the Bone

Well, time for an update methinks.

First off, I'd like to plug Preston and Patrick's hilarious, informative, and wonderfully written Rambling Rovers, a fantastic travelogue of their current wanderings across western Europe. It gets better with every new entry, and golden prose flows just as easily from the pen of one as it does the other. Check it out, you'll be glad you did.

Secondly, I've found myself returning home more often than not these past weekends. Don't get me wrong, I love the time I spend with my parents, going out to eat and watch movies, spending time and generally taking part in family bonding (though my sister has her own life which makes her rather absent on the weekends, something that makes my visits all the more appreciated by ol' mum and pop). It definitely eases on my wallet, as my wonderful parents are more than willing to take me grocery shopping upon my usual return on a Sunday afternoon.

There sadly has not been a lot keeping me in Davis; although there are a number of friends of mine still in cow town, more often than not there have been too many un-synchronized schedules. One of these days I'll get to have lunch with Julia, hang out with Lisa, or go see a movie with Lauren, but it sadly has not been any of these past weekends or even weekdays (For those of you casting a inquisitive eye toward the female roster reproduced above, I say 1. They are all purely friends or are taken, and 2. I challenge all of you to name any male friends of mine staying in Davis this summer). However, I hope to get my ass in gear and start being more sociable soon as I get some space in my schedule.

On the material front, I blitzed through the newest Harry Potter in about a day (that would be all of Saturday evening and all of Sunday morning), mostly due to the fact that I only had my hands on it for this past weekend and that it was the most gripping installment to date. I will admit that my interest was similarly piqued two other times in the series: once when getting into how dark and twisty Chamber of Secrets was, and once when I finished Goblet of Fire and found out that JK Rowling had taken the gloves off. While this series has never made me fear too badly for the lives of its protagonists (unlike, say, George R.R. "I'll kill off whoever I jolly well please" Martin's Song of Ice and Fire series), I do have to say that Deathly Hollows made me pretty twitchy and misty, the former before and the latter after it's numerous casualties.

Though they might seem minor in comparison to the giant bomb that was dropped at the end of Half-Blood Prince, I found myself more affected by the deaths in the following book. Why, you ask? I can't rightly say. Perhaps it was the logical peak of the pyramid after killing off a character a book since Goblet of Fire, maybe because we had virtually no background to such a central character and thus no great reason for sympathy (must....not....give away....spoilers!), but the climax of HBP didn't do terribly much for me. I definitely had a bit of a jaded streak going there before the final installment, but have been fairly well mollified by this last chapter in the series. For those who may have thrown up their hands somewhere around GOF/Order of the Phoenix, keep reading. You will be rewarded.

Can't wait for the Encore Edition of Guitar Hero, it's gonna be ten tons of fun, even though I don't generally like 80's pop. I'm sure the great taste of Harmonix will find some diamonds in the rough for my enjoyment. I'm already excited about Dio's Holy Diver, as Phil can most likely attest to my gushings on the subject.

As to the return of Anja, I am still ambivalent, but have been falling into the cold acceptance of whatever may come being simply an epilogue to our story. Should I abandon the last sliver of hope that remains, before it is crushed out of me? Or should I keep it alive, for that one small voice in my head that continues to say "Perhaps you are mistaken....perhaps...."

She has suffered enough, and though I have select barbs I may wish to say, I cannot bring myself to say them, for it would only be salt in a wound that no doubt has seen enough re-opening. Gah, I cannot assuage my own pain at the expense of hers. It's all so twisted. I want to be her friend, but I don't yet know if I can handle simply being that, if I will want to be completely hers again. I'm such a fool.


Enough, More Later.
- James

A thousand times Ugh

Currently in Earphones: Plunkett and MacLean soundtrack by Craig Armstrong


Ugh. It's been fairly quiet in the house as of late. Had a nice weekend back at home and have had a few visits by fencing friends (usually invited over by Phil, and heartily endorsed by me). However, no amount of that, Ian Fleming, Sir Walter Scott or Susanna Clarke can lift my current funk.

As most of you know by now, I had to let go of a wonderful relationship about a year back, and she who left for the green land shall be returning in the matter of a few weeks. Though she has felt horribly about the whole situation and much grief was to be had on both sides, she wishes to continue the friendship we once had. As you all also know by now, I am still very much in love with her, but despite her good will towards me and though it has not been stated outright, I do not believe she would wish to continue where we left off.

A series of slow revelations has shown her to have moved on, becoming involved with another and from the looks of things, continue to carry on her relationship upon her return. I have only wished for her happiness, and though it tears me in two to know that I am not the one to give it to her, I know that it is for the best that she does what she does. The last thing I would want would be to cause her grief, for she deserves happiness. I cannot be the one to deny it to her.

Yet still a small part of me hopes that perhaps I still mean enough to her to rekindle what was old, but it is a slim and foolish hope, and one that will most likely need be snuffed. I still have two long weeks, and I fear I shall not improve by stewing upon the matter.

Good friends, I implore you: give me your time as you are able that I may improve by your company. I have brooded enough upon this matter of the heart and could use more cheerful times. All of your thoughts, conversations and laughter are sorely missed in my solitude, and any time you could give me would lighten my spirit. Contact me however you will, for I eagerly await your company.


Enough. More Later,
- James

Smoke n'Oakum

Currently in Earphones: "Glanfaidh Me" and "Hebden Bridge" by Kila


I was rifling through my documents folder for forgotten files, when I came upon this random scribbling that I thought might be fun to post. I was trying to either categorize or give stand-out quips to all the titles in the swordplay section of my movie collection, and ended up banging this out over the course of the evening. So, without further ado...


The James Cinematic Swordplay Awards


"Attack! Parry! Quip!" Award -

First Place: The Prisoner of Zenda (1937)
Second Place: Princess Bride (1987)
Third Place: The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)

"Close-Quarters Fury" Award -

First Place: The Mark of Zorro (1940)
Second Place: The Mask of Zorro (1998)
Third Place: The Prisoner of Zenda (1937)

"Shadows are Cool" Award -

First Place: The Sea Hawk (1940)
Second Place: The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Third Place: The Prisoner of Zenda (1937)

"Grimacing over Clenched Swords" Award -

First Place: The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Second Place: The Sea Hawk (1940)
Third Place: Captain Blood (1935)

"We'll Duel in the Aisles, on the stairs, on the balcony!" Award -

First Place: Scaramouche (1952)
Second Place: The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938)
Third Place: The Mask of Zorro (1998)


And the last few because I wanted to give other such quips, but the only ones I could come up with were applicable to single movies.


"You call that Fencing?" Award: The Musketeer (2001)

"Real Dueling, But where's the Panache?" Award: The Duellists (1977)

"No Matter how Skilled Evil is, Good Always Wins" Award: Rob Roy (1995)

"Outrageous Death Blow" Award: On Guard (1997)


And that's all for now, until next time.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Ah, so this would be the "Bad Acid"

Currently in Earphones: the dull roar of silence in the house


For the record, the novelty of having a house all to one's self wears off in about a day. Also, when the few remaining friends who say they'll be in Davis for the summer are busy or totally not, that tends to complicate things. Throw in one roach too many and you'll find me sitting in the center of an exceptionally clean kitchen, rocking back and forth and clutching a can of RAID, while simultaneously talking aimlessly to myself in an effort to remain sane from the lack of human contact.

Off to work at the crack of dawn again.


Enough, More Later.
- James

'Cuz you haven't heard enough whining from me already

Currently in Earphones: the highly apropos Silly Wizard album, So Many Partings


It's interesting to note that every album by Silly Wizard I have bought has had at least one lonesome song that I immediately take a liking to. Such Scottish solitude strikes a similar chord in me, and while it may or may not be personally applicable, it at least illustrates the heartbreak that confronts us all in many of it's facets. The newest song is as follows...

~~~

"Bridget O'Malley"

Oh, Bridget O'Malley, you've left my heart shaken
With a hopeless desolation, I'll have you to know
It's the wonders of adoration your quiet face has taken
And your beauty will haunt me, wherever I go.

The white moon above the pale sands, the pale stars above the thorn tree
Are cold beside my darling, but no purer than she
I gaze upon the cold moon til the stars drown in the warm sea
And the bright eyes of my darling are never on me.

My Sunday it is weary, my Sunday it is grey now
My heart is a cold thing, my heart is a stone
All joy is dead within me, my life has gone away now
Another has taken my love for his own.

The day it is approaching when we were to be married
But it's rather I would die than live only to grieve
Oh, meet me my darling ere the sun sets o'er the barley
And I'll meet you there, on the road to Drumslieve.

Oh, Bridget O'Malley, you've left my heart shaken
With a hopeless desolation, I'll have you to know
It's the wonders of adoration your quiet face has taken
and your beauty will haunt me, wherever I go.

~~~

A interpretive point; the second line of each verse ends on a very plaintive minor chord, but the final line ends on a quasi-major chord, almost like a deceptive cadence, but more subtle. It speaks to me of the fact that the man in the song is riven by the loss, but still takes succor in the fact that he always has his memory of her love, even in this dark time.

Anyway, off to bed so I can work on a Saturday, ugh.


Enough, More Later.
- James

WORK. BOOZE. WORK.

Currently in Earphones: "Go Go Power Rangers" by the Power Rangers Orchestra (You laugh, it was a cool-ass show back in the day!)

Well, I'm back from my two day stint back home in the bay, and I've caught all of an hour of a shindig before I head to an early, early bed so I can wake up for my first day of work tomorrow. Damn, how I hate the early start up of Student Housing. At least I'll get some good pay for all the hours I put in.

No other new news, except that everyone is splitting for the summer, or at least most of them are. I'll get to more info as I get to it, but right now the bed is calling me. 'Till something more interesting comes up, then, y'all.


Enough. More Later,
- James

You got some of your '80s in my Fantasy flick!

Currently in Earphones: Brian Tyler's score for Timeline


Well, I finally saw the first Highlander movie last night, courtesy of Sophia, and after watching it, I can see why there has been so much follow up in the form of sequels, TV miniseries and comic books. While the plot may not exactly be high concept, it opens up a huge realm of storytelling possibilities.

I won't bother to dive into the whole Highlander universe, but I do have a piece to say concerning it's first incarnation in '86. The movie is basically a whole lot of cool with a couple of pieces of giant suck in it. However, the cool is so cool that it wins out over the crap more often than not, but every once and while I just have to cringe.

First, the awesome. The cinematography is absolutely amazing. In a time when any sort of CG simply did not exist, there are beautiful establishing shots and impressive group shots that work very well and that I can only wonder at the logistics of their construction. The camera work should be a touchstone for all action movies, as it was dynamic enough to liven up otherwise static scenes, but not so over the top as to fall into parody. Also, although the special effects (done optically or hand animated, which are quite a feat) may look a little old, they work very very effectively. To top it all off, it has sword fights, which are always awesome in my book.

So what's the bad? How could anything detract from the neat stuff mentioned above? Well, part of it may be prejudice for me, but I really don't like pop, especially during that decade. And of course, it comprises a good amount of the score. There is something about that trademark '80s synth that just oozes cheese, and says more to me about the time the film was made than transporting me in the story. Thankfully, Michael Kamen provides a decent symphonic score to fill in the gaps, but I had to stop my ears whenever The Kurgan hopped into his car and rode around, as it was always accompanied by lame '80s rock.

And as the crowning jewel of what nearly broke this movie, some really horrendous dialogue and the love story that felt like it was being shoehorned in with a sledgehammer. Well, actually, it was all the dialogue within the love story that sucked, because the rest of it was all right. The stately Scottish diction of Sean Connery lent some gravitas to the more flowery Villa-Lobos, and Christopher Lambert pulls off a reliable mix of accents that actually serves the tale. But my god, any scene between the characters of Conner and Brenda roll along like a square wheel. The scene in the bar and the "It's late in the movie and we haven't had any nudity yet" sex scene are absolutely groan inducing, clunky dialogue and virtually no chemistry completely detached me from the movie.

The poor points aside, the sword fights are decent, if a little slow by today's standards, and the dynamic camera makes up for the few more mundane "slash left, slash right, rinse, repeat" shots. Thankfully they have the right to be anachronistic with Immortal humans, so seeing a katana in Scotland isn't particularly head scratching.

So aside from the bad, Highlander is decent and fun movie, well worth it in my opinion, even if it's '80's-tastic.


Enough, More Later.
- James

. . .

Editeditedit (written 6/3/07, effective 6/2/07): And bounced back again, thanks once again for the sympathy all. Being shaken out of a shell is a jarring experience, and though I'm still looking at it longingly, I'm feeling better for being the more free.


Editedit (Early Morning, 6/1/07): FUCK, NEVERMIND.

Fortunae plango vulnera / stillantibus ocellis, / quod sua mihi munera / subtrahit rebellis. / verum est, quod legitur / fronte capillata, / sed plerumque sequitur / Occasio calvata.

In Fortunae solio / sederam elatus, / prosperitatis vario / flore coronatus; / quicquid enim florui / felix et beatus / nunc a summo corrui / gloria privatus.

Fortunae rota volvitur; / descendo minoratus; / alter in altum tollitur; / nimis exaltatus / rex sedet in vertice / caveat ruinam / nam sub axe legimus / Hecubam reginam."
- Carmina Burana

"I grieve the wounds of Fortune with flowing eyes, because her gifts she has treacherously taken back from me. It is truly written that she has lovely hair, but it follows that she is bald when needed most.

On the throne of fortune I had sat, elated, crowned with the varied flower of prosperity; For however much I flourished, happy and blessed, now I have fallen from the peak, deprived of glory.

The Wheel of Fortune turns; I sink, debased; another is raised on high, far too high, a king sits at the peak. Let him beware ruin! For under the axle it is written: 'Queen Hecuba'"

The above link is for reference.


Edit (Late afternoon, 5/31/07): Every time you die a little, it becomes easier to bounce back. I'm better than I was, thanks all.


Original Post:

Currently in Earphones: "Poor Twisted Me" by Metallica


You fucking, fucking fool. The hell were you thinking? And why so surprised?

Fucking, fucking fool.

Now if y'all will excuse me, there's a rock I need to go hide under.


Enough, More Later.
- James

I defer to the more experienced, here...

Currently in Earphones: Corvus Corax's Tritonus

So, about a month ago, a fairly good friend sent me an e-mail that took me a bit off guard in that it was fairly odd, even for her. The subject matter itself was nothing big or worrisome, but it was somewhat strange, and I couldn't quite tell what to make of it. Was she just goofing around? Being sincere? Something else? In any case, I was unsure how to respond, but did so anyway, and in a my usual wry fashion, or so I thought.

I could go on and on about how Computer Mediated Communication is a "lean medium," in that vocal and physical subtleties are easily lost in it. Hell, I wrote my final paper on it for Communications 3 in my Sophomore year, so you would figure that I might know better. The long and the short of it was that she took my response to be far more dry and sarcastic than I had intended it to be, evidently on the point of being insulting, and her following response was very clear that she wasn't pleased with what she had gotten out of my missive.

I found myself at a stand-still: Being the guy that I am, I hate confrontation, and this chain of communication was making me more and more uncomfortable. However, she was a good enough friend that I was upset by what had befallen, but I found myself not caring enough to immediately rectify the situation. Exhibiting the typical guy behavior, I didn't touch the matter further, and of course I haven't resumed any form of communication with her since then.

Currently I've been reminded that she's still around, and the fact that we haven't talked in ages, and I've reached a conundrum that is most likely a lost cause. I keep going back and forth: On one hand, I do miss her company and conversation, but on the other, I wonder if I truly care enough to work at resuming this friendship. However, I've probably screwed myself royally by divesting myself of the situation to begin with.

For those of you older and wiser than myself, all I ask is if you've had such experiences yourself, or if you have any advice on the whole subject. Try to keep any "told-you-so's" to a minimum, I know I've most likely been an ass about the whole thing. Anything else would be appreciated, though.

Thanks, all!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Quis custodiet ipso custodem?

Currently in earphones: Corvus Corax's Cantus Buranus

Well, let me just say that I'm quite pleased with how Phil's 21st B-day Bash went, not that it was entirely different from the other house parties we've been having, but that I've finally found my place among them.

Earlier I posted about how I like to have some time to myself, how I can only handle so much at a time. This still kinda applies, but another side of it was that getting drunk and making a fool of myself that usually constitutes "partying" (when it comes to this type of shindig) doesn't appeal to me (well, the getting drunk part, at least, I can be a goofy son-of-a-gun dead sober to begin with).

After the real party peoples started showing up last night, I made my usual retreat to my room, but after a while realized I was still up to socializing. After all, there were some really good friends of mine out there who I would have loved to stay and hobnob with (not that I didn't do so beforehand, the crowds triggered my solitary sense). After going out and aimlessly standing about, I realized that there were quite an abundance of empty bottles and cups sitting around, so I did what I do best and cleaned them up.

As I did so, and noticed that the trash needed to be taken out as well, I realized that I was feeling better in the act of cleaning up. I normally take pleasure in keeping things clean to begin with, and I suddenly found a new place within the festivities. I could keep things in a reasonable order, therefore giving me a sense of purpose within the shindig, and use that to amble around and chat with people. Without that sense of purpose, I felt like a vagrant, joining in conversations here and there, but without any real sense of belonging. Suddenly, I had a reason to be hanging out with a bunch of people I didn't know (not to mention those who I did, but that wouldn't have stopped me to begin with). It felt wonderful.

Maybe it was also because I didn't have to deal with any over-enthusiastic drunks, maybe it was because the party was smaller than before. But whatever the reason, I have suddenly found my calling. It probably also helped that there were people there from all over, so I wasn't the only one who was standing off to the side. I had fun assuring the new arrivals that I would be remaining sober for the evening, and if they needed anything to simply ask. It felt so good to find my niche, that of responsible host, and doing so was awesome.

Also, I'm getting used to the fact that when I tell people I only have a drink or two at parties, they treat me with pity. As if I didn't enjoy remaining sober! "All the better to remember your shenanigans, my dear."


Enough, More Later.
- James