(Anti)Twilight Analysis: The Good Parts Version

Now playing: Tannahill Weavers - Ferrickside/The Laundry at Drummond Castle
via FoxyTunes


In this whole crazy mess that are the books and movie, I've found some great analysis by others on what makes Twilight so attractive/horrendous.

What is it About Edward? Smart Bitches, Trashy Books provides an insightful look into what makes many ladies go crazy. A choice cut...

"He tames his desire to kill her and eat her, but he still consumes her, which is the point that made me the most uncomfortable, but may also serve as a primary reference as to why Edward is so alluring a character. While Edward and Bella don’t knock boots in Twilight, Edward manages to insert himself figuratively into her life and become the center of every moment of Bella’s life – and she’s all for it. More than one person commented to me privately after reading my review that the manner in which Bella subsumes her identity and becomes absorbed by Edward almost symbiotically made them as readers profoundly uncomfortable, because it echoed abusive relationships they witnessed or experienced. It wasn’t romantic for them, that totalitarian management - it was creepy."

Lord Sin's Loinfire Club: The Loinfire Club doesn't read....Twilight. While a bit high in the snark area, it also calls out a lot of what doesn't work. Case in point...

"Meyer also notes...that 'Edward goes to great lengths so nothing bad happens to Bella, she is cared for so much. A lot of the book's appeal is the thought of being loved to that extent [...] There has been some antagonism from men about Edward. They are jealous because they don't want to try that hard.'

Of course men don't want to try that hard. And no man should. It's creepy. Edward seems to do nothing else but stalk her (and hunt for food). He spends all his sleepless nights sneaking into Bella's room and watching her sleep, seemingly immune to boredom. (Pillywiggin theorises that Bella's a one-woman radio station in her range of sleep-talking, but I doubt that's what Meyer has in mind.) He stalks her, literally following her about and finding out where is by reading the thoughts of those around her. And this is all before they actually get together and declare their love and all that."

Arzim's Compiled Twilight Rebuttals: Very in depth (if not angry) counter-arguments to the fan responses. This person has earned the title "English Major."

"Or, take Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre (1847) and its titular character. Like Elizabeth, Jane is faced with classism, sexism, lack of opportunity, and, like Bella, is faced with dealing with somewhat of a Byronic hero (brooding, dark, secretive, ‘superior’). Like Elizabeth, Jane basically gives a polite and cultured “fuck you!” to her antagonists, and unlike Bella, Jane doesn’t take any crap from Mr. Rochester. In fact, the feminist theme in Jane Eyre is so firm and pervasive that by the end of the book, Jane has completely turned the traditional gender roles on their asses. Together, she and Elizabeth represent two of the strongest female characters in all of literature. Bella? Bella doesn’t even deserve to be on the same bookshelf as them."


That's all for now. More meaty (and personal) analysis of other subjects to come!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Crossing the Pale

Now playing: Tannahill Weavers - Are Ye Sleeping Maggie
via FoxyTunes

Well folks, it's finally happened to me. I saw the code, then I saw the Matrix, and now all I see is the code again. In my wanderings around various DVD sites, I came across the phrase "edge enhancement." The first time I saw it, it didn't mean anything to me, and any usual complaints about DVD transfers having an abundance of it merely caused me to shrug.

One day, however, my curiosity got the better of me, and I took a spin around the 'net to see what I could learn about this strange effect. Luckily for me the first hit on the search engine landed this wonderfully informative explanation. After the copious examples provided, I began to see why edge enhancement wasn't only not what it appeared, but that it actually lowered the resolution on the images it affected. The subtle haloing effect also became more pronounced in my eyes. I could see why edge enhancement, to those who noticed such things, was more a detriment than a help.

And then it happened. I'd seen countless examples, I could recognize the signs on sight, but it wasn't until I bought my standard def copy of Hellboy II yesterday that it finally all came home. I popped the DVD into my laptop, booted up the DVD player, and started the movie. But what's this? The opening titles look kinda odd; there's something strange about this white/yellow text on this black background...nawwww, it couldn't be. But those are some crazy halos around the text, maybe it's just a fluke....::the next scene comes, with more text and more....:: AH MY GAHHHD!

Now, to be fair, the enhancement is only really noticeable around text, but there were a few times when I noticed it elsewhere. The very fact that I now notice it all on my own has made me one of THOSE PEOPLE. You know the ones, who know just a tad much more than others in a certain area, who know how it's all done, and because of their knowledge they focus more on the process that leaks around the edges than the actual product. It's also kinda happened to me with cinematic editing tricks, a condition brought about by exposure to a sheer amount of "making-of" documentaries and subsequent exposure to many, many movies.

This is, I think, my turning point for purchasing High-Def hardware. I've been a little ambivalent up to now about getting an HDTV/Blue-Ray Player/Replacing my standard def collection, mainly from the practical standpoint of the price. I've still be in the rut of "Wait a few more months to pass and see if the price drops..." and then, when a few more months have passed, repeat the mantra. I mean, I've seen high def before, and it's a fantastic thing to behold, but I've never really had a reason up 'till now. Time to start socking money away!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Back to Work

Currently in Earphones: "The Musketeer" soundtrack by David Arnold

Right, so I've finally gotten (reasonably) over my jet lag enough to post all the pictures on Flickr. I also finally broke down and got a "pro" account, as they were placing limit after limit on the free account I had. "Oh, sorry, you can't have more than three sets of photos...Whoops! Upload limit per month!....Drat, only 200 pics allowed in your photostream...why don't you upgrade?" Since it is pretty cheap, I went for it, and will probably be the happier for it. So, without further ado, the link...

http://www.flickr.com/photos/30553999@N03/sets/72157608817863135/

These'll have to do in place of finishing the travel narrative, it's been long enough that the memories are no longer as fresh, and I've forgotten most of the little details that would spice it up from a kinda okay travelogue to a pretty good travelogue. So! Photos for your perusal.

Finally got off my ass (a little) and applied for work at my old summer haunt, the Oakland Zoo. If I get it, it'll just be for a month, which suits me fine. Dunno how long I'd last doing the same thing I've done for a number of summers. I'm still on the lookout for other work (helloooo, craigslist), and am at least hoping for some different mind-numbing work than other jobs I've had.

Currently navigating the GRE site and (hopefully) signing up for one soon. I figure even if I don't know where or when I'll be attending grad school, I should take it early before all the knowledge I have leaks out of my ears.

Other than that, nothin's really happening. Oh, I gave my talk last thursday, and it went swell. Not really much else to say.

Bleh, I'll be back when more interesting things happen.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Back Home

Now playing: David Arnold - Fight Inn
via FoxyTunes

So I've made it back home in one piece, I had a blast in Italy. I'm a little annoyed at myself that I didn't do any write ups for my solo Ravenna trip, Florence, or Venice (not to mention the wonderful time I had in Ivrea!), but I'll be posting pictures soon, so hopefully that'll soften the lack of a finished travelogue.

I'm still getting over the jet lag, it's really weird to completely crash around 8 pm and wake bolt upright at 3 am. It definitely made things interesting for the author talk I had today as a follow up to winning the Prized Writing competition, but that went off well otherwise.

Right, I am completely zonked. Off to bed, and pictures later.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Who hit the gas?

Currently in Earphones: Nothing

Tonight I'd be writing about my solo trip to Ravenna and today's trip to Firenze (Florence), but of late we've been getting tired early and heading to bed likewise. We're heading to Modena and then Venice tomorrow, and the day afterward a ridiculously long trip to Ivrea and thence to Torino. I'll try to cover everything on Sunday (our designated day of rest, seemed like a good idea what with all the churches we've been visiting).

Also, they don't have automatic dryers here. My sodden laundry is currently airing out on a fold out clothes line. Luckily I have enough to last me through the next day or two, which should be enough time for the current damp clothes to fully dry. Also, delicious though prosciutto crudo is (that would be simply prosciutto to us Americans), I still maintain that it looks like it needs to be cooked more thoroughly before it's safe for consumption.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Bologna and Ravenna

Currently in Earphones: "Klendathu Drop" by Basil Poledouris

Been busy, as you can imagine, here's what's happened so far.

I've had time to explore a good amount of the centro, or downtown, area of Bologna. Virtually all the sidewalks are covered with stone vaults and columns, there's statuary everywhere, and all of the streets are cobble-stoned and look extremely European. It's basically a straight shot from the northern borough where Deepti lives to the centro, namely the Piazza Maggiore and surrounding churches and other places of interest. The western portion of the piazza features a large fountain crowned with Neptune and is aptly named the Piazza Nettuno. Just across from that is the Biblioteca Sala Borsa, built atop an old Roman forum, and the center of the library has a glass floor so one can see the ruins in all their glory.

To the south of the Piazza is the Basilica of San Petronio, which would have been as big if not bigger than the main attraction in Rome, if the Pope hadn't had a "I see what you did, there" moment and halted construction. The two things that caught my eye were a huge fresco depicting Hell, which was interesting in that it showed Muhamed getting an eternal neck-crick from a demon. Evidently this was enough to justify some tightening of security in case any muslims took offence. I just thought it was kinda funny, in both that it seemed a kinda lame punishment and in that it was even labeled (a banner saying "MACHOMET" under him) . The other point of interest for me was the rather absurd amount of reliquaries they had. In addition to a very flashy nave filled with some really good ones (which were too far away to be identified), there was some overflow in a side room as well. Because in America you just don't see containers filled with saint's fingerbones, vertebra, and other assorted pieces, it was a rather novel experience for me. Given how reliquaries are usually about as trustworthy as pieces of the true cross are (and I having read Baudolino), I merely regarded them as curiosities, but interesting curiosities nonetheless.

Down the via to the east are the famous Two Towers of Bologna, the Torre de Asinelli and the Torre de Garisenda. Deepti informed me that the local superstition among the students of the Alma Mater Studiorum is that one shouldn't go up the Torre de Asinelli (the taller of the two) while still a student, or it would bring bad luck. I'll head up there when I have 3 euro in spare change for the fee. They don't let you in to the Torre de Garisenda, or the "what you have done in Pisa by accident we will do in Bologna by DESIGN."

The last building we visited was the Archiginnasio, which featured over 6000 coats of arms adorning the walls, along with the room in which Rossini composed his "Stabat Mater" and a really, really cool lecture hall that was used for anatomy. This teatro anotomico also featured some really neat skinless statues, along with carved representations of the Astrological figures along the ceiling, with a hanging carving of Apollo in the center of it.

We've had more adventures in the centro since the day we spent all day there, but I need to get on to the next day, which was only a few hours in Ravenna. We went to the stazione centrale (the Bolognese version of Grand Central) and caught an eastbound train whose final destination was Rimini, but which stopped in Ravenna, which is where I wanted to visit.

This was a classic example of me not doing my research, as I only had a vague idea of why I wanted to go. I knew that Ravenna was the capital after the fall of the Western Roman empire (and that Belisarius captured it from de Camp's Lest Darkness Fall), but I didn't really know of any places I wanted to go in Ravenna. Deepti likewise had little knowledge of the city, so she ended up buying a map and I a nicely bound guidebook and we started off.

We first visited the Duomo, which was a little smaller than San Petronio, but better lit and filled with lighter colors (not to mention more gilded in general). There were some spectacularly decorated naves (ok, the second picture looks like I lied about the lighting, but I have some pictures I'll be bringing back as proof) as well as some neat statuary featuring a headless emperor in porphyry (reminding me sharply of the Tetrarchs, which I also hope to see when we go to Venice).

We then saw that La Tomba di Dante was somewhere not to be missed, but we got there after closing and could only marvel at the outside of it. After that we wandered over to the Piazza del'Popolo, and finally found where everyone in Ravenna goes to have fun on a Saturday evening. Until then the streets that we traversed had seemed awefully empty, given the day of the week it was. But as soon as we hit the Piazza the crowd materialized, and all of the sudden it became a happening place.

There were a few places mentioned in the guidebook that looked like fun, but the day had ended and we needed to catch a train back to Bologna. I'm planning on taking a solo trip back to Ravenna tomorrow (yikes!) to revisit the tomb of Dante and take a look at the Mausoleum of Theodoric and St. Vitale. Luckily Deepti is putting together a little phrase book so I can order food (and not starve), and that I might finally get some vocabulary stuck in my brain that isn't "si, no, per piachere, grazie" and "prego."

Phew! That about covers the big events over the last few days. I definitely have more to tell, but I'll get back to that later. Our future trips will be Modena/Venice on Friday and Ivrea on Saturday, then hopefully Florence sometime before I come back.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Day 2: Cowering

Currently in Earphones: Nothing, Deepti's Italian iTunes settings were hijacking my iPod.

So after sleeping for an ungodly amount of time, Deepti took me to the Supermercato so that I might actually have some food. I can see why folk gush about the cuisine here, based upon what I saw, at least. All sorts of fresh meats, including Rabbit, tons of fresh bread, and something I've never set eyes on before, fresh pasta. Wonderful pasta of all sorts, looking like they just came from from the kitchen, sealed and stuck in refrigerated racks right next to the meats. I went with some "safer" fare (using the old college cuisine sense), bread, apples, Italy's version of instant soup and pasta dishes, chips (olive oil flavored!), and some yummy, yummy nutella.

Deepti's been good about getting some Italian vocabulary into me, though so far a lot of it has been of the "into the deep end" variety. Luckily, she responds well to my quailing looks, and to her credit, it hasn't been terribly difficult. Lets just say that I was never so relieved to see the price display on a cash register before.

Since I was still getting over jet lag, spoke only english, and was feeling quite a bit like Leonard Shelby when it came to reading a map, I decided to hole up in Deepti's apartment and equalize while she was in class. But though I'd decided not to say hi to Italy today, Italy decided to come in and say hi to me instead. Partway through the day a young man came in to fix some broken glass on Deepti's door. Having not met any of her apartment mates, I immediately went and introduced myself on instinct, though I quickly found out he was only there for the repair. He seemed to understand that I was at least the boyfriend of someone, but conversation was limited. It was only after he left that I found I could have dredged up enough Spanish to hold a basic conversation (if he indeed spoke it), but I at least made a saving throw of a "grazie!" as he was on his way out, and was rewarded with a grinning "prego!"

I'm still getting over jet lag, and found that I was quite ready for a long nap around 3pm, local time. When I did get up (and Deepti had returned), I had a really good combination of (apparently) veal ravioli and some tomato sauce that had diced olives in it. It almost seemed comical that something that tasted so good was thrown together the same way we'd boil pasta and add sauce back in the states. I guess I can see why folks get so worked up over the local cuisine here, and I can't wait to sample more of it.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Arrived in Italy (and 200th post!)

Currently in Earphones: "There is a Time" by Solas


Hop, thump, skid, and bumped my way into Italy over the past few days. Highlights were realizing that each leg of my flights was on a different airline, and that if I wanted to check in online, I had to do it through each company's website independently. Which would have gone off without a hitch, had the lady who checked in my bag at SFO (at the United terminal) hadn't been insistent that my printed boarding pass for my second leg on Lufthansa "wasn't valid." Never mind that it said on the pass "You are checked in, use this bar-code as your boarding pass." So I didn't get the desired "wheels-up" effect of having all my worries fall away as soon as we left the tarmac until I reached Frankfurt, and the nice lady at the gate confirmed that yes, I had a valid boarding pass.

The 10 hour hop from SFO to Frankfurt wasn't too bad, though losing 8 hours was mighty annoying. Trying to get some sleep because your plane pre-empted what you normally think of sunset by such a wide margin didn't really work all that well for me. I dozed as much as I was able, but didn't actually get sleep. Just how long the flight was was driven home to me when I realized that they were showing not 2, not 3, but 4 movies back-to-back, and THEN at least an hour of TV programming. Food was a little better than the usual toned down meals they've been serving since the airlines have been in decline. Luckily no-one was sitting next to me, so I could stretch out more than usual. Other than that, the first leg was relatively uneventful.

The second leg, from Frankfurt to Bologna was notible for two reasons. The first, they gave us some crunchy chocolate as a snack, which I've never had on any airline before (well, barring the first time I was on Lufthansa). Secondly, I had a bit of a thrill when the stewardess first asked me if I wanted food/drink in German. It was diminished a bit when I found that she asked nearly everyone in German first (except for those reading Italian newspapers), but all the same, I felt the better for not being so obviously an american tourist.

And for those who want to know, the Bologna airport is kinda like a scaled down version of our own Oakland Airport. I didn't see any terminals that had planes come right up to them (we had a rolling staircase and a bus to take us in), but it wasn't just a "control tower and a wind-sock" affair either.

I spent most of my time stumbling through the streets of Bologna with Deepti in order to get back to her apartment (well, stumbling on my part), and I slept for a few hours at a time throughout the late afternoon. I feel a bit more refreshed this morning, and will be heading out shortly to acquire some groceries so that I don't starve when Deepti has class. Oh, and a toothbrush, which I managed to forget.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Copypasta tastes good

Now playing: Solas - Vital Mental Medicine/The Pullet
via FoxyTunes


Because I'm lazy, and because Scalzi says it better...

http://whatever.scalzi.com/2008/10/13/oh-wait/


Enough, More Later.
- James

Quote-age

Now playing: Michael Giacchino - Roar!
via FoxyTunes

I've had this one kicking around my desk for the past year, and thought it deserved a shout-out on the blog...

"Moral certainty is always a sign of cultural inferiority. The more uncivilized the man, the surer he is that he knows precisely what is right and what is wrong. All human progress, even in morals, has been the work of men who have doubted the current moral values, not of men who have whooped them up and tried to reinforce them. The truly civilized man is always skeptical and tolerant, in this field as in others."

- H.L. Mencken, Minority Report (1956)

Enough, More Later.
- James

Return Snippets

Now playing: Jerry Goldsmith - Masada - Main Theme
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Back from the East! Plane flights were surprisingly uneventful. After a number of months with the laziest waking schedule ever (before we left, that is), being three hours ahead of California time is just strange. Woken up and ready to go at 8? Hungry for lunch at 9? I've been transported to crazy land!

I beat my dad at Carroms, which is a big thing, considering he never beat his father (nor had I, my gramps was both annoyingly *and* admirably unforgiving in not giving us an inch with his mad carrom skillz). I still have yet to beat my aunt, and still contend that my pop wasn't at his top game. But hey, there you have it.

I'm going to Italy! Got my plane ticket and everything and will be staying for two weeks in Bologna and wherever else I'll be allowed to go. I was surprised that my Passport hasn't expired yet. I got it in 2001 (and boy, does my picture show it) and evidently it lasts for 10 years. So cool.

I now have about two weeks before I leave, and a fair amount of socializing to fit in. Gotta call Mary (who I haven't talked to in ages, an old YPSO buddy) about those P.D.Q Bach Tickets. Gotta call Sascha so I can return her "Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" DVD set (and possibly ask if she'd be interested in an upcoming Davis Shindig). And I need to call Will and finally meet the guy! AND I've got the Prized Writing Awards to go to next week AND Coach's B-Day party! How the heck did this all pile up?

Maybe all this will keep me from return to my old eating habits. But being jet lagged definitely doesn't help when you feel hungry at the wrong hours of the day. Anywho, back to business.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Lancaster Snippets, Part 3

Now playing: Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard - Like A Dog Chasing Cars
via FoxyTunes


One word: Carroms

This game has been played by my father, grandfather, great grandfather, and so on. We use the American board, but not the cues. Because, you know, that wasn't how the original game was played.

Anywho, got back from Burlington last night. Ate dinner at a wonderful Irish pub called Ri Ra after spending another day at the Shelburne museum. Now we're recovering back at Lancaster, and have reached the end of my writing energies. Sorry y'all, I'll try to be more detail oriented on the next post.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Teeny Rant

Now playing: James Newton Howard - Abby Comes Calling
via FoxyTunes


To all people who review DVDs on Amazon. Please, PLEASE, stop reviewing the damn movies instead of the DVD. There are over a hundred people who have already given the 3 paragraph plot encapsulation, I don't need to you re-cap it. Especially if this is some special edition/box set...STOP REVIEWING THE MOVIE AND REVIEW THE GODDAMN PRODUCT.

There are many, MANY other places I could go if I wanted to find out about the film itself, you're not doing anyone any favors.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Lancaster Snippets, Part 2

Now playing: James Newton Howard - The Belly Of The Beast
via FoxyTunes


We took a drive a few days ago to see the pretty fall colors, and two things struck me. The first was the variation in the spectrum of leaf color. I had expected to see reds, yellows, and maybe even oranges, but what I didn't expect was the healthy amount of greens mixed in. The fact that it didn't look completely one or two colors gave it an almost alien aspect that was gorgeous to look upon: I can see why my mom was going on and on about fall color. The other thing was how my first reaction was "This would be totally cool to put on film! Look at those colors! No-one's ever seen something like that before!" I then checked myself as I realized where I was from and the fact that, last I checked, New England was fairly well populated. I did take a small consolation that I had indeed not seen any such color on film before, and that there might be some novelty left in such things.

Yesterday we visited one of the Stinehours, a family the Keiths have known for years and years and who ran a press for years and years at which both my father and grandfather worked. It recently came to be that the Stinehour press had closed down, but we visited the eldest Stinehour boy (well, man, he and my dad have been good friends) at his own studio. Aside from having hundreds upon hundreds of books, wonderful art and neat printing machines, there was also a stylized cutout in his loft that read...

ΨΥΧΗΣ ΙΑΤΡΕΙΟΝ

...which he told me was the apocryphal inscription on the main entrance at the Library of Alexandria. There was also a neat poster which had a really cool saying about Printing Offices, and I should have taken a picture of it.

And today we drove over to Burlington, VT, stopping on the way (as usual) at Ben and Jerry's HQ. The one thing that tickled me was a shirt in the gift shop that had, printed in the slightly faded Abercrombie lettering, "Body by Ben and Jerry's." I almost got the shirt, but settled for a button instead, as such a statement straddled the line between humorously self-referential and woefully true.

Right now we're currently staying in a wonderful, two leveled suite just across the way from Lake Champlain, and considering staying another day (we're only booked for the night) to take in the sights.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Lancaster Snippets, Part 1

Now playing: Hideki Sakamoto - prime #59
via FoxyTunes


So this first part isn't exactly in Lancaster, but it is the journey towards, so I'm weaseling it under the title. The second leg of the flight confirmed my suspicions that all you need to travel First Class is plenty of moolah (or unused miles). There was this crazy character that sat about three rows ahead of us. It was bad enough that it was one of those old people who dress like they're present day teenagers, but this lady also LOOKED all of 85, which wasn't pretty. I was itching to point her out to my parents (horrendous platinum blond wig and all), but that proved hard as we couldn't quite get away from her until we were all out of the airport. The last thing I wanted to do with my jet-lagged brain was go "LOOK MA, IT'S THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON!"

The second story is our first night at the local hotel, where we'd been before and had a good time. This time, however, we managed to get a craptastic room: stains on the carpet, paint peeling from the ceiling, a slightly acrid smell, and the most uncomfortable couch I've ever sat on. To compound the problem, at least 5 flies managed to find their way into the room, and we were having a hell of a time trying to get rid of them. I got a few of them by hand (Thanks for the technique, gramps!), but we finally called the front desk and asked for a flyswatter.

So I was expecting one of those cheap, plastic numbers that seem to have a top speed that's just a tad slower than the fly, but I was surprised when they brought us the mistress of all flyswatters. This sucker had a simple, coiled metal handle and, I kid you not, a tooled leather swatting end. This thing had WEIGHT. I tried it out on one fly and the room rang with one of the loudest THWACKS! I've ever heard. The hilarious thing was, I found that I no longer heard any more buzzing from the rest of the flies in the room, and I had to work to hunt them down. A couple of loud noises later, our room was free of flies. We got moved to a far better room, but we're holding on to the swatter for good measure.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Greetings from Stevens Terrace

Now playing: Yuichi Tsuchiya - Vampire Killer
via FoxyTunes


Made it safe and sound to the ol' Keith Family house in Lancaster, NH. The red-eye was long but cushy; we finally made use of our many, many accumulated miles and upgraded the longer legs of our journey to First Class. You get some actual food! for the cost of your plane ticket! Admittedly it's no longer in the vein of "actual roast beef sandwiches" that my previous (and first) encounter with First Class was, but it was still pretty good.

I'll be updating with stories as I have time, I'm still getting used to the time difference and shaking off the jet lag. There will be stories, oh yes there will :)


Enough, More Later.
- James

Remembrance

Currently in Earphones: Memories of "Corazon Gitano" by Pimpinela


At the top of my bookshelf, now way up near the ceiling of my old room, there lies a book. It's an interesting book, as the majority of the pages are nearly pristine. Hardly grounds for individuality, given the number of books I own, but the odd thing is that the cover bulges out, like it's been well thumbed numerous times. Despite this there are no creases along the spine. I remember looking for it by name, years and years ago, hundreds of miles from home, and buying it without question, for I had been told there were answers in it. No, it wasn't a philosophy book, I got it from the sci-fi/fantasy section. The person who recommended it was in to codes and ciphers, and liked to be roundabout in explanations.

At the moment it's propping up a number of trade paperbacks. You see L. Sprague de Camp, Michael Crichton, Charlie Stross, Neil Gaiman, and probably get an idea of the theme of this shelf. Pulling it from it's horizontal position, you probably prop up "Rivers of Time" as it begins to teeter, no longer supported. Taking this odd book, bulging on either end with the cover curled but the pages white with un-use, you clamber down the ladder you used to get to the eyrie of books and sit down, the book on your lap. The cover shows an illustrated woman in a dark dress hovering over muted text and a brown, featureless landscape. The title is a rather obvious nod to Yeats and the author currently has a monopoly in the "D-E" section of every sci-fi/fantasy bookstore shelf. As you can see, I shared the indirect habit of the person who pointed me in the direction of the book.

The curved cover lifts to show two two sheaves of paper, folded in two. The first is actually two pages folded together, white printer paper with the tell-tale alternating red-and-blue text that can only be an IM conversation. It's a muted argument, that seems to end well but on uncertainty. The young boy (clearly the name in red) must have had an inkling as to it's importance: He took the trouble to print it out. The second sheaf of paper confirms your suspicions as to the person who owns the book. It's a piece of lined notebook paper, the kind you can tear out of a spiral-bound, and the edge is all raggety. They never do come out clean, despite the perforations. On it, scrawled and crossed out, is some of the most pretentious romantic doggerel you've ever seen. There's some good rhymes and maybe a few lines scan properly, but good thing it looks like a preliminary. It also is all over the place, some lines break and meters change. There's feeling in it, as most poetry has, but make no mistake, it is sophomoric.

Having seen everything that the front cover has to offer, you stuff the hastily folded sheets back in and open to the next gap, about halfway through and past scores of pristine, untouched pages. Another folded sheet of paper, some more doggerel scrawled on it, and a pin holding the folds together. You see part of a darkened rectangle and text in the corners, clearly a printed out picture from long ago. You remove the pin and unfold the paper, and on it is a picture of a girl. Her black, curly hair reaches down past her shoulders, her skin a light brown and dark brown eyes that have managed to catch the light of the flash such that they look a deep, soft reddish color. The most ghostly of Mona Lisa smiles graces the edge of her lips. You can see bookshelves stuffed to brimming behind her. You think what you will of her before re-folding and pinning the paper, then placing it back where it was. You notice, as you move on, a light dog ear on the page the picture was marking. There is nothing else to indicate why this page, but you've only just opened the book, haven't you?

Near the end there are two marked pages. The first has a small piece of red-folded paper, a drawing done in silver ink: a tree with a swing on it, on a hill during a starry night. There's a name on the bottom right hand corner, but it's been worn partially away. On the inside are a quote, an expanded "Love like you've never been hurt" excerpt, and a message about meeting somewhere at this time and this place. The writing is small and elegant, a girls hand. On the back, you notice with a smile, is "P.M. Publishing," handwritten in the same silver ink with a crescent moon and starts. Very carefully done, as the simple line borders on the front and back attest. Tucked within this note, maybe or maybe not having anything to do with it, are a ticket stub for a 3:35 pm showing of "The Last Samurai," and a pink copy of a receipt. The only interesting thing on the receipt are the printed words "SR BALL." You replace them in the red note and stick it back between the pages from where it came.

You come to the last gap, only a few pages later. This page is interesting in that it marks the beginning of a story, as you find that the book is not one tale but a collection of shorts. The one thing that springs out at you is the title, "TALLULAH." There are some light print marks, indicating that this was the only thing read in full, and you see that the paper marking the pages looks similar to the picture from earlier. It's folded the same way, another pin (long with a spherical black head, like the other) holds it together and contributes to the strange bulges in the book. You can see that it's another picture, and un-pin and un-fold it to get a good look.

It's a picture of a boy and a girl. You recognize the girl from the previous picture, but her hair has been coiffed and runs in ringlets down her back. A delicate white necklace is draped around her neck, accentuated by the dark satin strapless gown she's wearing. Next to her, the boy is just visible, his upper body blocked by the head of another young man in the foreground of the picture. Both the boy and the girl are sitting down and leaning forward, only the girls arms, crossed and resting on her knees, are visible. A corsage with white flowers is around the girls far wrist, and if the young man in the foreground was gone, you'd see a similar boutineer on the boy's shirt, held in place by two long, black-headed pins.

Both of their faces are shiny with perspiration. The girl is smiling, and it's part camera smile and part real smile: stiffness of the corners of the mouth look forced, but the faint lines from the corners of her nose to the corners of her mouth denote some real happiness. The boy looks unused to smiling, at least for a camera, and only the small curve at the one visible corner of his mouth hints at the smile to come. The last thing that catches your eye are their two visible hands: her un-corsaged left hand crossed over her lap to his left hand draped across his kneecap. They're not holding hands, but you can see that they're touching. You concede it might be a trick of perspective, but all you've seen up to this point might lead you to believe otherwise.

You look to the print on the marked pages, and find snippits about lost love, about change and about about remembering the good. You find an emphasis on female characters asking the male ones to remember how things were, not how things became. All told it's not any more than a couple of hundred words, but the theme is clear. Perhaps you can understand why the rest of the book is pristine.

Having taken what you can, you close the book and climb back up the ladder to replace it on my high bookshelf. You pick up the de Camp and the Crichton and the Stross that have inevitably fallen over and stand them up straight, lying the strange, bulging, pristine-worn book on its back. It does a good job of holding up the others.

Perhaps you have enough pieces of this little puzzle, perhaps you want more. You might be driven to ask me about it, but I would only smile and say "She would probably like it that way."


Enough, More Later.
- James

Ahh, wondered when this might happen...

Now playing: The Corrs - My Lagan Love
via FoxyTunes


And I was so sure that I could get through life with a modicum of faith in humanity. Mind you, it's not Scalzi's fault, but this entry truly made a little part of me die...

http://scalzi.com/whatever/?p=1734

Is it just me, or is that really, really depressing?


Enough, More Later.
- James

Not Brothers for Nothing

Now playing: James Newton Howard - Deacon's Speech
via FoxyTunes


Mainly I just wanted to post this to show off a nifty image capture program I found online (and will probably buy), but I've recently been going through the Granada TV Sherlock series and have taken a liking to Mycroft. Pictured above is the man himself (left, portrayed by Charles Grey) and Sherlock (right, the wonderful Jeremy Brett). The liner notes of the box set I got for my birthday lament the fact that Conan-Doyle used Mycroft sparingly, a sentiment I share wholeheartedly. I suppose the main reason like the character is that he's a creature of habit, something I can relate with, as well as being rather lazy. What I really like is how he's a foil for Sherlock, the latter being full of nervous energy and craving constant stimulation, and the former sedentary and prone to napping frequently. Despite these differences, they're both intellectual equals (though as the article says, Mycroft might exceed Holmes in this department, the one trait I don't claim similarity with).

I think what makes these characters continue on is how this character dichotomy can be found in a great number of relationships, be they familial, friendly, or otherwise. I definitely know a pair of brothers who have Sherlock/Mycroft qualities (and have oft imagined myself as the more awkward, but competent Watson following close on their heels). And like Conan-Doyle, I've definitely spent more time with the Sherlock than with the Mycroft, but have enjoyed both their companies immensely. Such immediate applicability seems to lend to their longevity as characters, as well as their appeal.

Anyway, I've run out of insights (or brain droppings, take your pick), and I want to go play with this new program more. Expect to see more pictures accompanying posts in the future.


Enough, More Later.
- James

A Musical End note

Now playing: Maroon 5 - Tangled
via FoxyTunes

If I were more articulate, I might have made use of this early-college (for me) song...

(See Now Playing for info)

I'm full of regret
For all things that I've done and said
And I don't know if it'll ever be ok to show
My face 'round here
Sometimes I wonder if I disappear

Would you ever turn your head and look
See if I'm gone
Cause I fear

There is nothing left to say to you
That you wanna hear
That you wanna know
I think I should go
The things I've done are way too shameful

Your just innocent
A helpless victim of a spider's web
And I'm an insect
Goin' after anything that I can get

So you better turn your head and run
And don't look back
Cause I fear

There is nothing left to say
To you
That you wanna hear
That you wanna know
I think I should go
The things I've done are way too shameful

[x2]
And I've done you so wrong
Treated you bad
Strung you along
Oh shame on myself
I don't know how I got so tangled up


Sic est.


Enough, More Later.
- James