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

Your Very Own Daemon! (W000t!!)

Currently in Earphones: "The Pipe on the Hob / The Hag at the Churn" by The Bothy Band.

So, the official website for The Golden Compass movie has included a new section about Daemons and, coolness of all coolnesses, a Daemon matcher in the form of a personality quiz. The neat part is that you can ask people to do a quick evaluation of the match you get, and thus alter the Daemon if things don't quite match up. Here's a little Widget (that I had to wrestle with, HTML powers for the win!) to fiddle with.



I've only got 12 days before it settles, so help me out! It'll be fun! Go and get a Daemon of your own!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Halfway out of the hole...

Currently in Earphones: The actually underwhelming score (punctuated by the now ubiquitous Lady of Soundtrack Sorrow) to The Passion of the Christ by John Debney


Gah! I hate being sick! I managed to make it to at least one of my classes today, but I still slept through the first two of them. Let's see how the rest of the week goes.

First off, some links for y'all...

Movies in 15 Minutes - Somewhat short and hilarious summaries of Current movies by the wonderful and talented Cleolinda Jones. I'd love to get her book (which encapsulates 10 older movies), but until then will be constantly amused by her renditions of 300, Troy, and V for Vendetta (Not to mention Phantom of the Opera).

VisualDNA - Because we need another site that charts your personality and matches you up with others, but this is more clever.

Secondly, I'm frikin' tired. Bed and I will update more when I'm not so bone-weary.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Sick as a Dog

Currently in Earphones: Early American Choral Music; Volume 2, by Various Artists.


So Sunday evening I went over to the other side of the house to play some rounds of Super Smash Brothers Melee with Bishop and Toes, but when I went back to my side, I started to feel that familiar tickle and ache in my throat that signaled and oncoming malady.

Over the next few days I was alternately completely laid out and unable to do anything, or just barely functioning enough to attend a class or two before crashing. It was particularly nasty because every other day I felt like I was on the verge of kicking it, but then I started to spiral down again the next day and had to cancel all my plans.

And of course, this weekend is the UCD Fencing Tourney, which I'm having to miss such that I might get better faster. I'm hoping to be able to be well enough to attend the team events Sunday, but I honestly don't know how I'm gonna feel when the time comes.

In other news, classes are going as well as can be expected. The Baroque Ensemble is going to have it's performance on the 29th, and I've got rehearsals for it Monday, Wednesday and Friday next week, so that should be fun. The upshot is that we're performing some pieces that feature the fantastic bass singer who joined the EME last year for the Rossi Oratorio (the bass that made Anja's Cello strings vibrate in sympathy when he sang). It looks to be neat, but we've got a lot of music to cover between now and then.

Other than that, everything is fine and dandy. My parents will be coming up to feed me chicken soup and get me more medicine, and I'm just gonna take it easy. I'm a little worried about the shindig that will be happening tonight, namely in the amount of people coming and how late it will go. We'll get to that when I comes, I suppose.


Enough, More Later.
- James

On your feet, Sam!

Currently in Earphones: "Suite from X-2" from the X-Men 2 Soundtrack by John Ottman.


Out of the pit and back on my feet. You can stop sending me worried messages, I'm fine.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Going Down?

Currently in earphones: A Dance played on a reconstructed Cithara


Being depressed fucking sucks.


Enough, More Later.
- James

The Need for Solitude

Currently in Earphones: The soft susserations of a party down the hall.

Well, as long as I'm taking a break from the hullabaloo, I might as well write a short journal entry as to my character concerning the subject.

I have often found myself at the cusp of some group event, perhaps one I didn't have much interest in, but always in these instances with a sense of disquiet. It's the oddest feeling, almost like the flight response, but calm and collected. At these times I seek the refuge of a quiet room, or a quiet place, away from the noise and jollity, and the only way I can articulate this feeling and desire is to say that my senses need a break.

If it comes on strong enough, I'll sneak away as soon as the coast is clear, often abandoning companions in mid-walk. I don't mean to say that I don't enjoy their company, or would not enjoy a shindig or get-together, it is simply that, at that point, I have no desire to be trapped in a large group. Call it claustrophobia, call it anti-social tendencies, it is all and neither. I don't bear any ill-will toward the event or people that I run away from, I simply need to be alone.

I have explained as much to my good friends, and they are of the highest character in accepting and supporting this odd tendency when it comes up. Perhaps it is just part of who I am, but I feel such anxiousness and a growing sense of things not-being-right that sometimes I wonder if such things are products of something in the past.

Regardless of origin, it is simply something that is who I am. I wish I could explain it better, but until then, if I'm around a party or some such and disappear, nothing is wrong, I merely crave solitude.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Thank you and goodnight!

Currently in Earphones: The ripoff-tastic yet strangely satisfying score to 300 by Tyler Bates

And another quarter under my belt. Back home for west and wewaxation at wast.

Hit me up if you're in the Bay!


Enough, More Later.
- James

EPISTVLÆ HEROIDVM SELECTÆ

Currently in Earphones: Pan's Labyrinth Soundtrack by Javier Navarrete

Time: Mid-finals

Status: Crashing

Currently on hiatus: Post about Photog Rally (may never happen, just ask me about the hijinks), Story of Swords.

Done: Classics 1 Final, Classics 190 Term paper.

To be done: Study and wordlist for Latin 11oN, Music 10 quiz, short essay and final.

Audio: Sound of an airplane doing a tailspin.


Enough, More Later.
- James

To shed some more light on the situation

Currently in Earphones: Enemy of the State Soundtrack by Trever Rabin and Harry Gregson-Williams.

What with Casino Royale coming out on DVD, there's one little nitpick that isn't explained in the movie that I'd like to address.

It appears that Le Chiffre is not asthmatic, though it would be awfully neat if it was shown in more detail that is was so. We associate the mouth-inhaler he uses with Asthma because that image is linked in our cultural psyche; the poor, fat asthmatic kid taking multiple hits off of his Albuteral (or Ventolin, way back when) during phys-ed.

However, our devious villain uses Benzedrine, which acts as a mild euphoric stimulant. Surprise! He's a druggie, but nothing that will severely debilitate him, as he needs his wits about him. You ever notice how he never seems to get out of breath? Either while getting the crap beaten out of him of beating the crap out of Bond? In the novel he uses it in recreationally through a nose inhaler, which eliminates all doubt that he's not taking it for any physical debilitation (the filthy brute).

Maybe such a tidbit wasn't explained either for pacing or otherwise, but perhaps leaving it unexplained gave either option equal credence. I just find it funny he doesn't show any signs whatsoever of a medical need for the inhaler. Even light cases of asthma have symptoms, and he displays none of them.

Anywho, my two cents on the whole deal.

Enough, More Later.
- James

Procrastinaaaaation

Currently in Earphones: the delicate, melodic magic of Danny Elfman's score to the newest incarnation of Charlotte's Web, The Bothy Band!


What better time to post than when you should be doing other things? At least I have one paper out of the way, and the second one is coming along nicely, and the third got it's due date pushed forward by almost a week. Why not goof off and post another entry in the ol' blog?

The quarter is once again coming to a close, what with all these papers come due at the same time. On that subject, I regretfully mention that I'll be missing the Berkeley Tournament for a second time on account of my big "Senior" seminar paper being due virtually the day after I would get back. I'm going to the Davis Tournament this year if it frikin' kills me!

I'm working on expanding my swashbuckler section in my DVD collection, and I'm just about to round out the "golden age" of Errol Flynn: I've got Captain Blood and The Adventures of Robin Hood, and am about to nab The Sea Hawk the next chance I get. The Mark of Zorro is also on my list, though I have yet to explore the Tyrone Power or Douglas Fairbanks niches.

I've now got around 13 titles in my "Swash-swash, buckle-buckle" section, and below, an annotated list, from the least-qualified to most in terms of swordplay realism (in my opinion).

13. The Musketeer - Not even Tim Roth can save this poor pile. Pluses: some acrobatics (seeing D'Artagnan do a butterfly kick off of a table is rather neat). Correct fencing lunges. Tim Roth as the batshit insane Febre. Minuses: choreography was better in theory. Calvin-Klein model Justin Chambers. Not nearly enough of Stephen Rea as Richelieu.

12. Cyrano de Bergerac - I love the story, but the swordplay is at a bare minimum. What is there is lots of fun, and good production values. Pluses: a great sense of humor. Cyrano an extremely sympathetic character. story driven choreography. Minuses: heavy-handed melodrama. Things get really serious without any levity halfway through.

11. The Three Musketeers - Better than I expected when I revisited it after years and years, and surprisingly dark for a Disney movie. Pluses: a suitably cocky (and young, very young) Chris O'Donell as D'Artagnan. A suitably troubled (and mentor-ish) Kiefer Sutherland as Athos. Good swordplay. The incomparable Michael "Kill you with my voice" Wincott as Rochefort. Minuses: that screechy Paul McGann (who I'd love to see tackle something more weighty). The overly slimy and not-nearly-strategic-enough Tim Curry as Richelieu. The Lady de Winter who totally wimps out at the end.

10. The Count of Monte Cristo - incredibly well done and fairly recent adaptation of Dumas' classic. Pluses: Richard Harris as frail yet tough Abbe Faria. Michael Wincott strikes back! The genuinely funny Luis Guzman as Jacopo. Choreography with smallswords! Minuses: Jim Caviezel waxing almost too naive more often than not, but other than that, not much!

9. Rob Roy - because we didn't know Scotsman were tough-as-nails before. Pluses: Liam Neeson as always. Tim Roth strikes back! Gritty and realistic swordplay. The incomparable John Hurt. Minuses: the non-graphic yet rather crude way sexuality is handled. It's the bad guy who's well versed in rapier fencing. The tad-long running time.

8. The Princess Bride - C'mon, who doesn't like it? "I see you are using Bonetti's defense!" Pluses: Memorable comedy. Memorable swordfight. Fun for the whole family. Minuses: a tendency to be over-hyped by those who love it. Cheese, cheese, cheese. Silly and movie-fied swordplay.

7. The Mask of Zorro - A surprisingly fun bit of popcorn with better-than-average swordplay and good humor. Pluses: Cold steel, and lots of it. Anthony Hopkins doing his thing. Catherine Zeta-Jones....wowzers (She's Welsh, by the way, same as Hopkins). Minuses: Matt Letscher as an equal to Banderas?..Maybe in the creepy factor. While a step in the right direction, still very movie-fied swordplay. The requirement that we suspend disbelief even past the crazy acrobatics and riding (the heroes and a couple of hundred oppressed peoples all outrunning the explosion in the end?).

6. The Adventures of Robin Hood - a Classic tale very well told. Watch it when you want some pure escapism and fun. Pluses: Errol Flynn, the only man who can swashbuckle with flair and not have us laugh at him. Swordplay with classical fencing roots easily seen, though it's hack-'n-slash. Basil Rathbone as the most likable (but still sneeringly evil) bad-guy you've ever seen. Olivia de Hallivand. Minuses: Can be a tad too upbeat for some. When did all those pastels exist in nature?

5. Captain Blood - another great golden age swashbuckler, and most of Sabatini's story kept intact! Pluses: a more grounded (but equally suave) Errol Flynn than in the previously mentioned movie. Olivia de Havilland looking much better without the head covering from the previously mentioned movie. Swordplay more reminiscent of actual fencing. Basil Rathbone. Minuses: A long running time. This is a darn good movie.

4. Scaramouche - Another classic from the 50's. Pluses: Longest, Swordfight, ever! Extremely classical swordplay. Swordplay oozing from all the cracks. The sultry and saucy Eleanor Parker (love those redheads). Minuses: I didn't know France looked so much like San Francisco's Golden Gate park! Really, I've got nothing else bad about it.

3. The Three Musketeers and The Four Musketeers - Richard Lester's best-yet telling of Dumas' classic story. Pluses: Oliver Reed as a pitch-perfect Athos. Realistic swordplay. Christopher Lee bringing a debonair touch to Rochefort. A surprisingly good Charlton Heston as a cool, strategic and calculating Richelieu. Fay Dunaway as the ice cold and eeeevil Lady de Winter. Minuses: The overtly slapstick (and bordering sexist) portrayal of Constance, some scenes played for laughs that shouldn't have been. Not much else.

2. On Guard (Le Bossu) - An almost Shakespearean story with damn good swordplay. Pluses: A very theatrical botte segrete described in classical fencing terms?..Score! A likable Daniel Auteuil as the protagonist. Cool, cool swordplay. Minuses: a somewhat convoluted story. A few bordering-on-"eew" elements, including the ending (though it be a happy one). European languor in storytelling.

1. The Duellists - a film about obsession and it's ramifications, but of good caliber. Pluses: Hands down, the most realistic swordplay and consequences-of-swordplay on film (duels over in seconds, long recovery times between duels). An engrossing story. Keith Carradine a likable protagonist. Minuses: a somewhat dreamlike way of storytelling. Other than that, not much.


And there you have it, my collection at the current moment. Hope that was all informative. And now, time for bed, Procrastination has been accomplished with flying colors!


Enough, More Later.
- James

Waaaaaait for it.....

Currently in Earphones: "The Curlew / Sean Og's / The Sligo Maid" by Ciunas

Errrr, sorry. Still don't quite have the time to write up a full post about the Photo Rally. In short, all the work that I eschewed in favor of the photo rally is now threatening to drag me out the front door and beat me senseless in the streets. This might take a while.

In the meantime, here's a passage (in translation) from a little something I've been reading. There are probably more than a few ladies who can associate with this...

"He indeed is ungrateful, and regardless of all my good offices; and I am a fond fool, not to tear him instantly from my heart. In spite of all his ill-usage, I have not power to hate him. I can only complain of his baseness; and, when my complaints are over, love him more than ever. Pity, O Venus, your daughter-in-law; pierce, O Cupid, the unrelenting heart of your brother, and teach him to fight under your banners. Teach me also, who have already begun the pleasing task, (for I deny it not,) and let him prove an object worthy of my tenderness and concern. I rave; and the enchanting image deludes my eager mind; nor does he retain any portion of the softness of his mother. You are certainly the offspring of rocks and mountains, or the hardened oak that rises out of the hanging cliff. A savage tigress, or the tempestuous ocean, such as it is now when swelled by gathering storms, gave thee birth. But whither can you shape your course, or how stem the force of opposing billows? You prepare to set sail, a stormy sea forbids: let me enjoy the blessing which a rough winter offers."

This is, of course, a fictional letter from Dido, Queen of Carthage to her lover Aeneas. It was written as part of a series of letters by Ovid, each one from a famous heroine in Greek and Latin literature to her absent husband or lover. Just goes to show you how good Ovid was as a writer.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Prelude to a Legend....

Currently in Earphones: "Supermoves" by Overseer

Two words about Patrick and Zach's Photo Rally III: Velociraptors at the Gate...


WE. WON.


Pics are all up on Facebook in their gaudy glory.

I'll relate the full days adventures after I get back to Davis.


Enough, More Later.
- James

Celsus, Porphyry and Julian, Oh My!

Currently in Earphones: The Double Cross by Tempest

Man oh man, so what the heck has been going on?

Oh yeah, there was that lovely shindig on the 16th that was hosted at our place. Phil pulled out as many stops as he could and made a Formalish with wine (and wine, and wine, and wine....and beer) and cheese. Everyone had a blast, and we finally got to see Liz in her red dress. Needless to say all the men had to pick their jaws up off the floor after she came in and took off her coat. Check out those photos on Facebook, one album posted by Phil and the other by our own Sascha.

The next day we had a smaller get together to celebrate Kristen's 21st birthday. We all went to Strings and ate and made merry. We finally got to play the House drinking game: Luckily for us, the episode we picked was somewhat slow, so we all came out the other end comfortably muzzy as opposed to completely smashed. Well, I can't speak for everyone, but I know I was still mostly there.

As usual, I took advantage of the three day weekend by goofing off for the most part. I did manage to throw together an assignment for Music 10 in a night. I still have to finish my paper topic presentation in Classics 190 for Thursday, which shouldn't be too hard, but I also have two papers to start doing preliminary work on. Ahh, Acadamia.

Final note: cleared out some unused music on my hard drive, freed up at least 3 gigs on my ever shrinking-in-space laptop HD. That should last me for another couple of CD's!

Oh, and XKCD once again illustrates the voice I don't say in public but secretly yell in my mind. (Long text, take your time and read it)

http://xkcd.com/c137.html

Enough, More Later.
- James

I dunno, a ridiculous mouse would be kinda cute...

Currently in earphones: The bizarre stylings of the Medieval version of Carmina Burana, sung by the Clemencic Consort, and the soft rain outside.

First off, last night and evening were a little less cool that I would have liked them to be. I got at least 3 pairs of pants soaked through in my various comings and goings, hither and thither, and both on business and for fun. It would have been four, but I was getting tired of being wet and my rendezvous was coming down with a headache, so we called it off.

Secondly, I borrowed a lovely batch of MST3K from a good friend, and no-one showed up to watch! Mr. Muehlner and myself were the only recipients of such stylized humor. Hopefully we can coax more people over tonight for some "Space Mutiny" and "Manos: The Hands of Fate"

I should probably be studying, but damnit, it's Saturday!

Side note, I convinced Patrick Thomas that German can sound very pretty, a la J.S. Bach. He now has one of his cantatas sitting on his hard drive, thanks to the power of Gmail. Another one joins the ranks!

Enough, More Later.
- James

His Swing music is interrupting my melancholy!

Currently in Earphones: X-Ray Dog Production Music up the waz

So, I went and saw the Chieftains at Mondavi on the 30th, and it was a blast. They have such great energy, and although I was initially worried that the venue would be ill-suited for such music, I was quickly proven that that all depends on the group. My only regret is that I came with a handful of cashy money to throw at the vendors and get more of their CD's, but they didn't seem to have any of them. Oh, and they played an awesome encore piece that I could only find part of on their Celtic Wedding Album. Ah well, 'twas fun anyway.

Then we had a get together on Friday evening that grew from about 4 of us to at least 10 people. It looked at first to be somewhat scary in how fast it all came together (more by chance than by planning on my part), but everything worked out well and we all had a blast. I think I'm still recovering from staying up 'till late-o'clock.

The Father unit came up on Saturday (and would have been accompanied by the Mother unit, except she had come down with something), and we took a stroll around the Covell Greenbelt. Later my Pop treated me to dinner and groceries, and I showed him the money vortex that is Armadillo Records. Fun was had by all and the Parents will probably be back up again when Mumsie has recovered.

I then proceeded to become entirely too distracted on both Sunday and Today, in that I had a Latin midterm that I did the barest amount of studying for while downloading music/watching comedy on YouTube/Facebooking/Webcomicing/Anything else that distracted me. I seemed to do all right on the test, but I think I bombed on the Scansion portion (i.e., figuring out where the feet in poetic meter go in certain lines).

Going to try and go to fencing tonight, though I feel rather sluggish. I haven't had a chance to repair my torn knickers (just some broken Velcro) and will probably be joining the sweat/workout pants club for the time being (Back into the ranks, Mr. Chen?), that is, until I go make some friends in the costume shop and pick up some sewing tips.

And now, to fold some laundry.

Enough, More Later.
- James

Edit: Didn't end up going to fencing: I started to repair my knickers and suddenly my throat felt sore. Looks like I'm coming down with something, perhaps whatever it is my mom has. This might end up sucking. Early bed for me!

Casino Royale via AICN

Currently in Earphones: "Never Drink 'Em Dry (Johnny Tarr's Funeral)" by Gaelic Storm

Drew McWeeny (aka Moriarty) from AICN wrote a very smart review about the recent James Bond installment, and I particularly appreciate this one gripe/praise he has concerning the book vs. the movie...

"My biggest problem is one that I’ve had since the script stage: the change from baccarat to poker. It’s literally pointless. The poker in the film doesn’t matter, and having knowledge of the game doesn’t matter. At all. Not even a little bit. Because card games in movies are inherently boring. You know there is no chance involved because it is scripted. The cards are going to be dealt according to drama, not chance. The reason that baccarat simply works better is because it’s so uncommon. No one knows how to play baccarat. Le Chiffre has a fetish for the game because of its obscurity. And when MI6 decides to send someone in to play across from Le Chiffre, there’s really only one guy inside the agency that knows the game well enough to compete. You think it matters what cards turn over on the table between those two guys? No. What matters is what happens between them, and the film gets it right. Campbell directs the poker the best way he possibly can, by making it inconsequential. He’s got the dealer to explain every hand, so you don’t have to know anything about the game, and he directs everything so it’s about the way Bond and Le Chiffre play off each other. It’s just Mads Mikkelsen and Daniel Craig, every gesture loaded with meaning. No invisible cars, no creepy dudes shooting lightning out of their fingers, no CGI or snowboarding. Just two men, both desperate to accomplish something, depending on this civilized warfare across a card table."

- "Moriarty", Link

Amen!

Enough, More Later.
- James

Gaelic Storm!!!

Currently in Earphones: Bring Yer Wellies by Gaelic Storm

The song "Kelly's Wellies" by the above mentioned group always makes me smile...


When I was a young 'un, I knew a lad from Ballybunyon
He hadn't got a single penny to his name, you might say,
He had a raggedy coat, and like two rubber boats
He kept his Wellington Boots on from December until May.

(Chorus:)
It was Kevin Kelly, with his chopped off Wellies
In the middle of the Summertime, he was lookin' fine!
His pants had holes in the knees, but he was proud as you please
With his old Wellies...he'd keep strollin' along!

As we got older, and slyer and bolder
And the girls we had our eyes on, they got older as well.
With paint on their faces, and curves in nice places!
Well we were dressed to impress them and we thought that we were swell!

Well our duds were in fashion to kindle the passion
And there was Kevin on the dance floor looking anything but neat.
He was tryin' to flirt, in his hand-me-down shirt,
With the same old Wellies on his two big feet!

(Chorus)

Well we teased him and we mocked him, but sure that never shocked him,
He painted on some laces and cut them down to look like shoes.
He was poor but he had style, he made everybody smile
He wore his ol' wellies, He wore his ol' wellies, He wore his ol' wellies....
Like he had nuthin' to lose!

The next time we found him, well the girls were all around him
He was busten' out the moves, he was as happy as can be!
One of the girls came near, and whipsered in my ear,
"Only boys who wear their Wellies have a chance wit' me!"

(Chorus x2)


You know it's a fun song when the lead singer starts giggling through the last line of the chorus!

Enough, More Later.
- James

A Story of Swords, Part 6

Currently in Earphones: Whiskey Supper by The Wicked Tinkers

Sorry, I lied last post. I was too wiped by the end of Thursday to post the next installment of my short story. Then Friday in all of it's tough glory came around. Here's how it went down...

On Wednesday I realized for the first time that the concert conflicted with my work schedule, seeing that I had to play at noon and usually work from 9am-1pm. No big deal, I think, I'll make up the extra hours the next day. The only problem was that my only free hours were between classes during my only break, so my Friday schedule looked a little something like this:

9am - 10am - Music 10 (with listening quiz)
10am - 11am - Classics 1
11am - 1pm - Work
1pm - 2pm - Latin 110N: Ovid
2pm - 3pm - Cicero

Yup, on campus for six hours straight and no sign of a break. I managed to snag a few snacks during work, but I was laggin' pretty bad by the time I got out of Cicero. I spent the next hour at home going "God! Why am I so depressed? And why am I so tired?" Of course, when I finally lurched into the kitchen for a sandwich and got something in my stomach, I felt so much better.

As for this weekend, I'm going to drag myself to the library for some initial research on my Classics 190 paper, then study for two midterms, one in the previously mentioned and one in Classics 1. Thankfully I'm off the hook for Ovid, seeing that I translated twice as much as we went over on Friday: luckily our Prof assigned up to the line where I originally stopped for Monday, so I can coast for the time being.

And now, without much further ado, the next chapter of my Story of Swords. Despite the fact that I initially skipped writing the chapter before this because I wanted to write this one so bad, I'm not sure I'm entirely satisfied with it as it currently stands, even after some initial editing. I will be going over the chapters again later on, but here it is for the time being.

(Oh, and for those of you wondering what the hell Helmrune is talking about when he first speaks in this chapter, I've begun to draft a Chapter 3.5 that delves more into some interaction between him and Touchstone. It'll all make sense in the end, but for now, enjoy the swordplay!)


Chapter 6: Steel and Sweat

The small figure that strode toward Touchstone gradually resolved itself into the figure of Helmrune, the black-hilt of Coinspinner prominent on his hip. Touchstone took a deep breath and released it, loosening Doomgiver and readying himself for what was to come.

The young Lord stopped a few paces from Touchstone and regarded him coldly. “You have a habit of making things difficult, Master Fool. You tell me one thing, and then do another. You make life difficult for Esther. I wonder if it not be better that you leave.”

“I think you’ll find that these complications are more than just my influence, friend,” Touchstone replied, “Besides, there is more to this world than what is within the walls of the Keep.”

Bitterness crept into Helmrune’s voice, “And you would be the one to turn me out? To point me outwards under the guise of wise advice, to turn me away from something I finally found that matters to me?”

“This is not the end of your life, nor should you think it so,” said Touchstone, struggling to find words to appease the young Lord, “Perhaps it would be better to leave things be here, perhaps it would be beneficial to start anew, to find something less complicated.”

“Spare me your sermonizing!” Helmrune cried, ripping Coinspinner out of its scabbard. The meteoric steel rang harshly in tune with his shout. “Too long have I stood silent, fearful of failing. Too long have I let good things pass me by; I will not simply stand and watch while happiness is taken from me again!”

Touchstone grimly drew Doomgiver, the cold sound of the blade sounding an uncomfortable dissonance with the fading ringing of Coinspinner. His anger at the young Lord was paralleled with a great swell of pity, aroused by Helmrune’s pained speech that had so often echoed through Touchstone’s own head.

With that feeling of fellowship strong in his mind, the young Fool didn’t believe the words that came through his mouth. He felt a similar righteous outrage at the doctrine of near-endless patience he was wont to believe in as the young Lord as he said, “We still have time to discover new things. Hastiness can only bring conflict.”

“Fortune favors the brave, my lord,” growled Helmrune, coiling himself to strike, “And I no longer fear to be brave with luck on my side. Luck that your sniveling ‘Justice’ would do well to note!” And with that, the young Lord sprang at Touchstone, Coinspinner at the ready. The last thing Touchstone remembered before Doomgiver cleared his mind for the oncoming fight was that he rather agreed with his opponent, though steel would have to be tested before words could once again be of use.

The Sword of Chance came at him in a simple, but savage, thrust, which he parried to his outside. Touchstone’s mind was ready for the next action, when the young Lord’s momentum accidentally carried him further forward, Coinspinner’s point angling toward his arm. Before he could react, Doomgiver acted for him, extending the parry further outward while the offending point slid harmlessly past Touchstone’s body. Both men, stunned by the swords influence, leaped back out of range. Each regarded the other for a moment, and Touchstone knew that the young Lord, immediately charging at him again, understood The Sword of Chance’s power. If he faltered, even for a moment, the advantage would leave him. In order to have a chance of winning against such a force as Doomgiver, he would need to press his luck.

Helmrune charged again, Coinspinner extended in the same savage thrust. Touchstone knew it to be something more as the point rushed toward his body, and he made as if to parry it in the same manner as before. As he had thought, Helmrune disengaged, circling the tip of Coinspinner around the oncoming edge of Doomgiver, and into the unprotected hole above his moving arm, straight at his chest. Almost as a reflexive afterthought, Touchstone retreated back a step, moving in time with Helmrune’s blade and keeping it a few inches from his chest, simultaneously moving his hand back across his body. Touchstone’s training made him fast, but not fast enough to counter the luck of the Sword of Chance. As the two swordsman moved as one, the young Fool backwards and the young Lord forwards, the tip of Coinspinner grazed Touchstone’s upper arm as he moved his opponent’s blade to his right, away from further harm.

Grimacing, Touchstone planted his feet, preparing for the impact of Helmrune’s charge. Glaring at his opponent, he snapped the wrist of is sword hand down into a more comfortable pronated parry, shoving Coinspinner aside and firmly away from him. Using his momentum as before, the young Lord barreled into the young Fool, knocking his opponent onto his rear despite his good footing. Helmrune had remained standing, and Touchstone watched in horror as he began to lift Coinspinner for a final blow.

However, as the young Lord began to heft his sword into the air, he let out a cry of pain and dropped the point to the ground. At first amazed, but then with growing understanding, Touchstone saw blood bloom on the same part of Helmrune’s arm as his, where Coinspinner had made a lucky cut earlier. Looking down at his own arm, the young Fool saw only rosy flesh, and no cut or scar marred the place where Coinspinner had passed earlier. Doomgiver had delivered justice, as it was wont to.

More out of reflexes than anything else, Touchstone sprang to his feet and lunged, angling the point of Doomgiver low, toward Helmrune’s leg. The young Lord, also reflexively, retreated back a step and parried from the draw, his hand and arm at chest level and his sword pointing straight down, almost locking the young Fool’s blade out. At the last moment, Touchstone circled his sword underneath Helmrune’s defense and angled his blade upward, avoiding the defending sword and catching the young Lord’s left arm with Doomgiver’s point.

They both leapt backwards and paused, recovering breath. Touchstone smiled ruefully at his successful attack, only to realize that the same twisting smile was growing on Helmrune’s face. The young Fool noticed a growing pain in his left arm, and looked down to see that the same wound he had inflicted on the young Lord had appeared on his arm as well. Looking back at Helmrune, Touchstone saw that the spot on his left arm where the Sword of Justice had inflicted a wound was clear and healthy. Doomgiver truly did not discriminate, and the swords wielder realized with growing fear that there was no way to harm his opponent without harming himself. Though he could play a defensive game, he would need to work hard not to counterattack so that the Sword of Justice couldn’t work against him. And if it was blood that Helmrune wanted to quench his anger, he would not get any of Touchstone’s

Whether such a realization concerning the interaction of the sword’s power had occurred to Helmrune, Touchstone couldn’t tell, he only just had time to parry to his inside once again as Coinspinner came edge-wise at his wounded left arm. Stepping forward and moving the two blades away to lock out his opponent, Touchstone grabbed the wrist of Helmrune’s right hand to further prevent him from attacking, and Helmrune did the same to the young Fool’s sword arm.

So locked, Touchstone spoke, breathing heavily, “All is not what it seems, my friend.”

Helmrune, emboldened by Doomgiver’s impartiality and Coinspinner’s luck, laughed. “You hide behind your words as you hide behind your Sword of Power. I wonder if you were not in my position once. Did you hide then as you did now, letting what mattered to you slip away on account of your weak philosophy? Know that I will not make the same mistake.”

“Fool!” Shouted Touchstone, enraged at the young Lords biting insight and mockery, “What do you know of pain? What do you know of denying your own happiness for someone else’s?”

Each young man’s rage feeding his opponents anger, Helmrune bared his teeth and bellowed, “EVERYTHING!”

In unison, they drew back their heads, then slammed them forward, meeting forehead-to-forehead with tremendous force. Stunned, they reeled, releasing their hold on each others hands and staggering backwards.

Recovering, they shared a look that said much. There was respect and new found brotherhood as each began to grasp their similarities on a subject that meant much to them. At the same time, anger still burned for the apparent contempt that each young man had shown for the other, and relishing the refreshing rage that boiled within, they abandoned themselves to their swords and charged at each other anew.

To be continued in Chapter 7

Enough, More Later.
- James

The Roman Empire did what now?

Currently in Earphones: Songs from Carmina Burana (Medieval and Renaissance set), Whiskey Supper by the Wicked Tinkers

Went and saw the Wicked Tinkers and Tempest this past saturday and had a blast with Preston, Maya and family. We unfortunately had to hoof it near the end on account of how INCREDIBLY loud Tempest was (awesome music tho) and because my sister was starting to feel rather asthmatic. All in all, however, it was awesome. My parents got me a Tinkers shirt and their newest album.

Currently I'm trying to blitz through the reading for Classics 190, which essentially says that "Yeah, those guys who somewhat recently claimed that the Roman Empire 'transformed' rather than 'fell' are wrong, wrong, wrong." I'm tending to agree with him, and it makes me want to read Gibbon's The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

And don't ask me how this all got started, but we, the Baroque Ensemble, will be opening for the Gospel Choir of all people. Evidently Michael and Calvin (the respective leaders of each group) had wanted to do something like this for some time.

I'd write more, but I gotta get ready for that performance. I'll post the next installment of my Story of Swords later tonight.

Enough, More Later.
- James

Random Bits and Pieces

Currently in Earphones: The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, The Complete Recordings by Howard Shore

First off, Karaoke with the fencers was lots of fun. There were a few little snags and bumps along the way, but overall it was pretty neat. We got everyone to sing, even if it was all of us belting out songs at once. My only problem was that we had just a tad too many people, in that we couldn't satisfy every ones musical wishes in the time we had. Make no mistake, we picked songs that (hopefully) everyone knew so as to get everyone involved. But as Preston said to me, it would have been nice to see some smaller groups go up there. Two highlights were a group of guys and a group of girls singing "Phantom of the Opera" (I very much enjoyed being part of that one), and Preston finding "Dragostea din tei" (which, for some reason, was on one of the lists that was in Korean and not on the English list. The english list had Rammstein, for crying out loud!). Suffice to say, I'd love to do it again (perhaps in a smaller group). I wait with baited breath for the pictures from last night to surface, as well....

Secondly, I've noticed that whenever I'm in a conversation with more than one person. I have this habit of being overrun by the other participants. We'll be talking along, there would be a pause, and I'll begin to say something only to be talked over by someone else. I, being the guy that I am, stop and let the other person say what they want, then try again at the next pause or break. Sometimes this happens more than once in a row, and it's very strange. I really would like to understand just why this is happening. Am I horrible at reading some sort of social cue? Am I not a forceful enough presence in conversation? Is what I have to say really that boorish? Help me out here, because even though it may be a natural part of conversation to accidentally talk over each other, it seems to happen to me far more frequently than I'd like.

Thirdly, and lastly, I learned an interesting bit of information in Music 10 a few days ago. To start at the beginning of why this was so, we go to San Luis Obispo, home of my grandparents. There's a restaurant/hotel/place called The Apple Farm in northern SLO that I've gone to since I was a young lad, and they have what I would call the coziest gift shop ever. It's spread across 3 levels: more adult things on the bottom level, the middle connecting with the restaurant, and the top having the greatest little nook of children's toys and books that I ever saw. I'll always remember that nook as it was 10-15 years ago, because at that point it had all the usual wooden and plastic doodads and jimcracks that a young boy could want, and a book rack full of Berenstain Bears and Golden books. It has changed over time, but that's the way I really liked it. Small and cozy, with a bay window looking out to the creek filled with clear shelves of toys, and the final topper was that they always played Baroque music in the background, which made it feel very classy.

I remember first getting into classical music, and always having in mind the atmosphere and sound of the toy nook in the Apple farm. At first what seemed to fit perfectly was the first movement of J.S. Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, but later I stumbled upon another small piece by Bach called Badinerie for flute and strings. Even later I would find out that it came from his Orchestral Suite No. 2, but suffice to say that that piece fit my memory even better, and if it were not for the malleability of memory, I would swear that I remember that very same song playing as I fooled around with wooden toy soldiers. The cap on all of this was when we were going over the selfsame movement in Music 10, and I found out that the title literally means "Plaything." How satisfyingly fitting!


Enough, More Later.
- James

A pair of ragged claws...

Currently in Earphones "Main Theme" from The Ususal Suspects Soundtrack by John Ottman (on endless repeat)

"Me miserum! certas habuit puer ille saggitas. / uror, et in vacuo pectore regnat Amor."
- Publius Ovidius Naso (Ovid), Amores 1.1, lines 25-26

"Miserable me! That boy has precise arrows. / I burn, and love reigns in my empty heart."

While Ovid wasn't considered the most honest poet about love (seeing that his Amores are highly sarcastic and his Ars Amatoria are essentially a guide to getting laid), I find pieces of his poems fitting out of context.

In the above mentioned, he very wittily writes about how he was going to write an epic poem, but Cupid came down and took a metric foot away from the second line of his couplets, transforming the poem from a Heroic dactylic hexameter to a Lyric construction.

"Damn you, Cupid!" he says, essentially, "Now I'm in love but with no-one to be in love with!"

I feel his pain on a Catullus-like level.

Enough, More Later.
- James

A Story of Swords, Part 5

Currently in Earphones: The Ususal Suspects soundtrack by John Ottman

Wow, big burst of creativity has got me through the initial drafts of the next two chapters of my Story of Swords. You will only get to see the first of them for the time being, as I wrote the second one (and am writing this) through a haze of fatigue. As such, here's chapter 5.


Chapter 5: Conflict

Touchstone’s gaze wandered toward the Keep, from which he saw a lone figure emerge in the distance. It wouldn’t be long until it and the sword it wore would confront him on the small hillock. The young Fool began to recall the past few weeks that had led up to this coming moment…

Touchstone and Esther were sitting side by side on the hearth of the great hall, their backs to the warmth of the dying fire. The winter was moving away from its most bitter, and they both had a large blanket thrown about them. They had been talking quietly about many things, their hands intertwined with each other under the warmth of the cloth. During lulls in the conversation, Esther would lean her head against Touchstone’s shoulder and he would rest his scruffy chin on the top of her head. Lady Ginndem bustled about the hall, making sure that every speck of dust was removed from the various tapestries, her watchful glances toward the young couple belying her real reason for lingering in the great room. Touchstone, catching her watchful gaze, was relieved to see the Lady smile approvingly every now and then, and he continued to talk without fear of reprobation.

The young man and woman had finished a spirited talk concerning the properties of medicinal herbs when Esther quieted and adopted a look of worry.

“What is it?” asked Touchstone.

“Well, it’s both you and Helmrune. I’m so glad we have become good friends over the last month, and I enjoy spending time with you and him. It’s flattering to have two young men vying for your attention," she paused, adopting a more pensive look, "but you both confuse me.”

“I know I have been less than straightforward with you,” admitted the young Fool, “But Helmrune’s intentions are easily seen. He’s quite taken with you.”

“I suppose, but he goes back and forth. I start to talk with him about this subject and that subject, to learn what he thinks and who he is, but I don’t learn very much. Other times he writes me poems and proclaims his love for me, but all I can do is to tell him that I need to know him better if I am to give him a similarly straight response.”

“A solid rock, that one,” Touchstone wryly commented. Esther smiled briefly, and then continued.

“With you, it’s the other way. I know so much about you, you’re almost like a brother to me. I feel comfortable talking of anything and everything with you. I do admit,” and she blushed slightly, squeezing his hand, “I enjoy being with you. But with you, I don’t really know what you want. You did finally tell me about your ring, and that much I know.”

“Oh, yes. That dramatic tale,” the young Fool said dryly, and felt the silver band encircling his finger, something he’d of late grown so used to as to forget about.

“But what do you want for the future?” she continued. “You like me well enough, but we don’t talk much of such things beyond that.”

Touchstone became more serious and sighed quietly. “I still am not too sure myself. As you say, I like you very much, and you fill a hole in me that has been empty for too long. I am content as I haven’t been in a long while, but I don’t think this is the end of my journey. I still have more things to do, things I need to return to and resolve. It will be a long while yet before my story has ended.”

They were quiet for a moment, the crackling of the fire the only noise, and the occasional soft footstep of Lady Ginndem. He then continued, “But, until then, I would desire to stay with you, as it were: if you would have me and know that, eventually, I would go.”

Esther’s hand loosened in his. “I would, for the most part,” she replied “But I wonder if the pain of your eventual leaving would be lessened if we parted sooner.”

Her words echoed in Touchstone’s mind, stirring old memories. He let go of her hand and fingered his silver ring. “Perhaps it would be better,” he said, “I’ve not had such things go well before.” He turned to look at her and found her eyes full of concern.

“Her?” she said simply, and he understood who Esther was referring to.

“Yes” he replied, and started to look away, but found her hand cradling his cheek. He looked back into her eyes as she turned his face back towards her own. He drank deep of her green eyes as she drew his face towards hers, and for the moment let all care fall away as they shared a kiss. He could have spent eternity in such a comfort, but they were both startled by approaching footsteps.

They sheepishly broke away from each other and turned toward the noise. Touchstone was surprised to see not Lady Ginndem striding forward, as he expected, but the young Lord, carrying a sword and scabbard in his hand. The young Fool stared at the black hilt, wondering at first if Helmrune had taken Doomgiver from his room, but upon catching sight of the twin white dice upon the handle realized that Coinspinner had found its way to the Keep.

Helmrune’s eyes betrayed an undercurrent of jealousy as he approached, and Touchstone realized that the young Lord had seen more than simple conversation go on between Esther and himself.

“It came to me,” said Helmrune, his voice half filled with wonder and half with approving, “The Sword of Chance.”

“It could not have found a better recipient,” said Touchstone, “But a sword such Coinspinner…I would still argue caution in its use.”

Helmrune’s face became less animate, scorn mixing with the jealousy behind his eyes. “I believe I know enough about this sword too keep myself from harm, Master Fool,” he replied, and then shifted his gaze to Esther, his expression softening, and spoke to her, “With this blade, I could become someone. I could find a place to settle into, perhaps become a metal smith, and start a good life.” His eyes betrayed the final, unsaid phrase, with you.

Esther, catching what wasn’t said, glanced at Touchstone and then looked back at Helmrune, “Perhaps so, but I agree that you should consider its abilities further before acting. Touchstone is not wrong in urging caution.”

Surprise and hurt flickered across Helmrune’s face, quickly replaced by unmistakable anger. He narrowed his eyes at Touchstone and said “Perhaps if things were a little more…simpler, things would be for the better.” With that, he whirled about and stalked off.

After the young Lord had left, Esther turned to Touchstone, saying “I’ll talk with him after he calms down. I hope he doesn’t do anything rash on account of Coinspinner, and me.” The two said their goodbyes for the time being and retreated to the comfort of their own rooms.

Later, Touchstone encountered Esther in a hallway on his way to the kitchens. She had been to Helmrune’s room in order to talk with him, but found his door locked and he unresponsive to her attempts to enter. Upon visiting the kitchens, the young Fool learned from the head cook that Helmrune had entered earlier and taken food to his room in place of joining the Ginndems for dinner. Touchstone returned to his room full of unease at the continuation of events, and felt his worry deepen at the sight of a small, handwritten note on his bed.

Picking it up, he noticed that it was in Helmrune’s hand, and stated, simply, “Meet me on the drumlin hills outside of the Keep an hour after midday meal tomorrow. Come armed. Tell nothing to Esther. All will be settled.”

The young Fool heaved a sigh, it looked to be that this would be finished the way most conflicts are finished by foolish men; by the sword. While combat was not the solution that he would have liked, Touchstone had confidence in his ability to keep both himself and Helmrune out of most harm and subdue his opponent without bloodshed. Things would be settled in one way or another, and though he would not admit it to himself, the young Fool secretly relished the thought of ending the conflict quickly with steel; avoiding the long, tedious and uncomfortable process of bandying words, accustomed to such a thing as he was.

He slept.

To Be Continued in Chapter 6

Enough, More Later.
- James

Cold Steel '07

Currently in Earphones: Crimson Tide soundtrack by Hans Zimmer

On the 6th a small contingent of UCD fencers, including myself, attended what appeared to be the first of a hopefully annual Fencing tournament held at the Santa Rosa Junior College, self-dubbed "Cold Steel" for it's occurrence during the bitter transition between December and January.

All in all, it was a good tournament: a non-league event with a small but fun showing and good times. What was somewhat unfortunate was that even though things should have gone quickly with the minimal attendance, some fencers gummed up the works by fencing more than one weapon. Now, usually this is taken in stride, and the fencers have to take the lumps with the good by being yanked back and forth between bouts with different weapons. However, when you only have a small amount of fencers in one weapon to begin with, and most of them are doing more than one of them, then things start to get annoying.

Case in point, we had 22 Epeeists in total for the whole tournament. That was all fine and dandy, but when you consider that only 5 or 6 of us were fencing Epee exclusively, then problems started to occur. The Epee pools started up, but we literally didn't have enough people available to do the pools as we're supposed to, which is in a pre-determined order such that people don't have to fence a bunch of bouts in a row. Now, this wasn't too much of a problem, we simply dis-regarded the order and worked with what we had. Even then, we could only get through 3-4 bouts before we had to wait for all the rest of us to get dis-entangled from their Foil pools. I literally had to go read a book and have a snack before things could continue.

To be fair, there were two Epee pools, and the one that I wasn't in was able to progress in a fairly orderly fashion and finish out in good time. But the pool I was in that should have taken no more than 30-45 minutes took at least 3 hours to finish. I realize that this was more a problem regarding the fencer's decisions and less the set up by the event coordinators, but I was miffed nonetheless.

Aside from that hiccup, the fencing went quite well. I did middling well in pools, going 2-4 and only getting thwacked by Billy Carson (a very nice fellow, by the way) and to a smaller extent by Andrew Kleinerman. I touched base with Robert Belanger, who's acquaintance I made at the Santa Cruz tournament, but he was in the other Epee pool and I didn't meet him in DE's.

In the DE's I first squared off with Brian Harness, who had narrowly beaten me 5-4 in the pools. I was surprised to take him with little difficulty, landing a square 10-6 and continuing on. My second DE was against Billy, and I planned on getting my ass handed to me, but to go down swinging anyway. Things started off pretty evenly, but he zoomed ahead to 8-(4 or 5, I can't remember my score) and things looked to be wrapping up. Keeping calm, I managed to make a comeback and snatch the victory out from under his nose, 10-9. I was extremely surprised to see that I'd instinctively stopped being sedentary and found chinks in Billy's defense, ending with a face shot that I'm not particularly proud to mention on account of my opponent being such a good sport.

Then came the mirror match DE; I went up against James M. Whenever we fence during practice, our matches are always close, but he usually ends up the winner by a small margin. When we began the DE he got a good lead on me, eventually culminating in 6-1, his favor. Buckling down, I pulled my points on par with his, matching his sweeping parries and wide arm shots with some very precise and delicate hand shots. In the end, he won 10-7, but it was a neat and well fought match, punctuated by the equal-opportunity and wry shouts of "Go, Davis!" and "Go, James!" from the team-mates.

I regret to say that I didn't catch as much of the Sabre pools and DE's as I would have liked, and as a result missed out on how Mr. Preston Thomas did. Toes was a good sport in coming along with us, but a screwed up back and only one set of Sabre gear had him pass it off to Amy Chi, who did fairly well, as I seem to recall. She may say differently, but she gave her opponents a run for their money, even being sick and unsure of herself. I'm anxious to see how she does in Berkeley, when she ISN'T feeling under the weather!

Some shout-outs to the novices; Will, Laura and Lizzy, who placed highly in the Newb Foil section. Also to the incomparable Mike Jumper, who whupped ass as usual in Sabre. Also of note was that the Epee semi-finals were dominated by UCD, with Me, James M., Chris Wild and Vinnie filling the slots. Vinnie placed first, James M. second, and Chris and I tied for third.

Anecdotes of note include watching the slow-motion train wreck that is Chris Wild, who even being the exceptional fencer that he is, does all three weapons and cramps up like a mother near the end of every tournament. He fenced Vinnie for the same position in the semifinals of both Foil and Epee, the former of which happened after the latter. Vinnie toned down his speed so as not to totally break Mr. Wild, but there were some fun touches and moments on the strip as the two teammates fenced.

The first was during the Foil match, in which Wild's movements were severely limited due to the cramping in his leading thigh muscle and sword arm. Vinnie charged in for some in-fighting, standing abreast with Wild for some close parries and behind-the-back ripostes. After a few clashes, however, Wild stopped, or they both reached a stalemate in that neither could get a clear shot. Then the both kinda paused and looked at each other, Wild clearly in pain and Vinnie concerned, and Vinnie reached his off-arm around and gave Wild a pat on the back, then retreated a few paces and snapped back into en guarde. Everyone laughed and Andrew Kleinerman (who was reffing) did a double take and scratched his head.

The second, and more fun anecdote, was a textbook example of what not to do on the strip. This was once again during the Foil match between Vinnie and Wild. They once again were infighting, and Vinnie had thought he scraped a point off on Wild's chest. No light had gone off, and the box was behind Vinnie and to his left. He pauses, turn around to his right, the long way around, to try and look at the box. Just as his eyes reach it, Wild thwaps him smartly on his exposed chest and Wild's light goes off. Cue uproarious laughter and and a hearty "AW CRAP!" from Vinnie as he realizes his juvenile mistake.

It's too bad this wasn't a league event, seeing as I did pretty well in it. I'm even getting a medal to boot! And now back to homework, for Monday is drawing nigh.

Enough, More Later.
- James

"Good things never last, Mr. Denham"

Currently in Earphones: Imaginarium by Terry S. Taylor

And so begins a new quarter. Music 10, or Music Literature looks to be neat, but a lot of listening and concert going, not like that's any different from what I do anyway. Classics 1, or Early Greece and the Near East, will most likely be informative and interesting, but not as highly charged as Prof. Stem's Classics 3. I have yet to have my Senior Seminar, that's later on today, but Latin 110N: Ovid looks like fun and I'm auditing Prof. Stem's Cicero class.

I'm sorry to report, but A Story of Swords is now on indefinite hiatus. I'll endevour to finish it at least by the end of the year, but I've seriously been lacking the writing impetus for the past few weeks. You will see it get posted once I get another creative streak, but until then, don't hold your collective breaths.

Point of interest, I had a honest-to-goodness nightmare last night, and I can't remember when I last had one. It wasn't anything connected to any real life situation, but more like a "boo!" moment from a horror movie. The only problem was that after I was jolted awake from the surprise, I had a hard time getting my mind on some other, more calm subject so I could fall asleep again. I even remember reciting the Bene Gesserit Litany against Fear (which is a damn good piece of writing, lemme tell ya) in an effort to knock out. For the first few minutes, however, it was one of those horrible, fear-feeding-on-fear moments, where every little sound could be some creature waiting in the dark, even though it probably wasn't. My brain decided to take pity on me and gave me some nice dreams afterward, and all I'll say about those was that there was smooching involved that will probably never occur in real life. I think I'm feeling more down that the latter dream was only a dream, and less that I had a nightmare.

Fuck.

Enough, More Later.
- James