With Apologies to Alan Moore

Over the weekend, Jeff and I sat down to watch the movie Watchmen. The previous weekend it had been The Dark Knight so apparently we’re on a dark superhero/supervillian kick. I’d been hesitant to watch Watchmen. I’d loved the graphic novel and movie adaptations tend to disappoint. Plus I knew that Alan Moore had been unwilling to even have his name associated with the film. So I went in with lower expectations. And I have to apologize to Alan Moore. I enjoyed the film, quite a bit.

The movie had the same gritty feeling as the novel and that’s what I liked. The characters were perfect, particularly The Comedian and Rorschach. It is exactly how I imagined they would sound. In fact, I thought most of the characters were pitch perfect. The plot had some significant changes from the graphic novel including cutting out an entire storyline. But many people thought the novel was unfilmable so I know that they had to make some big choices on what to include and what to cut out. Like most action films of the current day, this was bloody and violent. But the graphic novel was as well and I think I can almost say that the film-makers downplayed some of the violence of the story by leaving out the secondary storyline. The ending was very different. But this is one of those rare, rare times when I will say that the movie might have improved on the book. The ending to the novel was a bit out there, a bit far-fetched. The ending to the film made total sense. It tied the entire Dr. Manhattan plotlines together.

The visuals were fantastic. Like many others have said before, the opening credits were just amazing. I don’t know how they shot those but I want to learn. The darkness and grime of the city was perfectly captured. The movie still kept a bit of a comic book feel to it though. The fight sequences were a bit over the top though. These are mortals who donned masks to play vigilantes, not superheroes. Some of the fight sequences would have been better served with a touch more realism. Over all I was really impressed by the film. I enjoyed the endings and the overall story. I enjoyed the characters and the visuals. It was a fun film that I was not disappointed with.

Plus it was nice to watch a movie that had more male nudity than female nudity. A rarity in Hollywood. J

The Straw That Broke the Camel's Back

I've finally managed to do it. I broke a bookcase. I knew it was just a matter of time. I'm nice to my books, hard on my cases.

I have five bookcases in my library: one for books I still have to read, one and a half for fiction, one and a half for nonfiction, and one for children's books. My children's book bookcase decided that it had had enough this past week. The second shelf, which holds picture books, broke and dropped its contents to the floor. Jeff was watching TV on Friday when he heard a loud crash and the cat come running down the stairs. He went upstairs to find my books all over the floor.

Here you can see where the shelf had been

He piled my books up on the bed we have in the library and called me. So now I have to go out and find a new bookcase. My idea is that this next one will be a quality case. Something that will move with me from house to house. Something I can show off. Not the cheap plyboard ones I bought from Target years ago. They've held up, but my bookcases have to be strong. I finally pushed one to the breaking point. Who knows how long the others will last. Particularly with this load.

Poetry Friday

It's been a long time since I posted a poem to the blog. I've been missing Poetry Fridays. And since my last post was so rambling and incoherent, I figured I would share a very beautiful and sparse little poem that touches me every time I read it. I read poetry and books and discover the secret on a regular basis. But I always forget.

The Secret
by Denise Levertov

Two girls discover
the secret of life
in a sudden line of
poetry.

I who don't know the
secret wrote
the line. They
told me

(through a third person)
they had found it
but not what it was
not even

what line it was. No doubt
by now, more than a week
later, they have forgotten
the secret,

the line, the name of
the poem. I love them
for finding what
I can't find,

and for loving me
for the line I wrote,
and for forgetting it
so that

a thousand times, till death
finds them, they may
discover it again, in other
lines

in other
happenings. And for
wanting to know it,
for

assuming there is
such a secret, yes
for that
most of all.

Wanderlust

We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls--Anais Nin

I need a vacation. I actually have one coming up. I'm going to Gen Con in August. It's a gaming convention in Indianapolis. I'm so incredibly excited that I've started a countdown. And of course time slowed down. I realized today that it's been an entire year (almost to the day) since my last real vacation. And for a traveler like myself, that's a long time. I'm not really a gypsy but I have an odd wanderlust. I don't like to stay in one place too long.

I have lived in my house for six years. That is way too long by my standards. I'm not a nester. I once told my boss that I'd prefer to move every year. Not just because I like the change, but because I'm more likely to live simply that way. I've worked at my job for five years and I find myself longing for something new. I once read a writer say that she wrote so that she could live many lives. That's how I am. I tell myself stories so that I can live multiple lives.

When I found the quote from Anais Nin, it just struck me. This is why I travel. This is why I tell stories. This is why I move. I'm searching. I'd say that I hope I find what I'm searching for but I don't really want. It's the search that draws me. To borrow another quote from another brilliant (and feisty) writer: The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity--Dorothy Parker.

Bumper Cars

Murphy's Law seems to say that the better your self-confidence is, the more likely you are to have something bring you back down to earth. I've been having a good week. A great week really. So of course Murphy decided to remind me that I'm only human. With the most bone-headed move in the history of bone-headed-ness.

I hit a gravel pile. Not only did I somehow manage to not see a 3 foot high pile of gravel but I ran into it hard enough to put a significant dent in my bumper. I was driving over to Wild Birds Unlimited this afternoon to pick up some seed. Traffic had been slow on the way there and I was a bit nervous after watching the person in front of me swerve repeatedly into the next lane. So I should have been ultra-cautious. Instead, I was so relieved to get away from them. I turned into the parking lot which was having work done. I drove around a gravel truck that was almost too far into the intersection to let me in. I was still thinking about my brush with the truck, when my car stopped. Okay well first there was a loud bang, then I stopped.

My first reaction was that I'd found the deepest pothole imaginable. That's when I realized that my front drivers side tire was up higher than the others. And right in front of me was a gigantic pile of gravel. In my defense it was the same color as the pavement. But I should have seen it. I should have been able to easily avoid it. But I didn't. I'm not proud of this fact. I'm just saying.

I put the car in reverse and stepped on the gas lightly. Nothing. I could hear my wheels spinning but no traction. I rocked the car and hit reverse. I was just about to get out and call Jeff when two of the construction workers working on the parking lot came over. They pushed the car off the pile and checked out the damage. The plastic front bumper had been pushed in at least a foot. There was gravel in every nook and cranny. I offered the guys money, got back in the car, called Jeff, and immediately broke into tears. I drove home without bird seed and we took the car in for an estimate. Luckily the mechanic was able to pull it back mostly into shape. We're still getting a new bumper but at least I'm not constantly reminded of the disaster. Thanks Murphy. Now I'm back to normal.

Where No Man Has Gone Before

I have to admit that I always thought that NASA would have a shuttle program. I took the launches for granted having grown up well after a man had walked on the moon. We sent up astronauts. On a regular basis. That is just what we did.

So yesterday feels a bit like an end of an era. With the last launch of a space shuttle for the foreseeable future, I feel a strange sense of loss. Like the future that Science Fiction writers have predicted for decades just won't be coming true. When SciFi writers in the 50s started writing about space travel it was because it was becoming a possibility. When writers talked about long distance space travel or space station living, it was because those things were on the horizon. In a way this end of the program, induced by budget cuts, feels like the end of those dreams. What will we shoot for now?

I know that budgets are finite. I know that cuts have to be made or taxes raised (I'm all for taxes by the way). What I wonder is why we make the cuts we do. I know that NASA's program seemed less immediately necessary. But I still can't help but lament the death of dreams. Will children still grow up wanting to be astronauts? Will we still look to the stars and hope to reach one? Will we ever find the cold still expanses of space? I know I'm being melodramatic. But space made me dream. I grew up on the words of Bradbury and Niven and Roddenberry. I grew up with dreams of new life and new civilizations. And today the universe feels a little more closed off.

Happy Fourth of July

It's Independence Day and you know what that means. We get to blow things up. I love fireworks. I become about four every time I go to a fireworks display. I giggle and ooohh and ahhh. I'm normally standing there with my mouth open. So here's to fireworks and the fourth. Happy Birthday America.

PS. I'm not sure how but I don't have a single fireworks photo in my iPhoto. I'll have to check the other computer. Trust me, there will be a photo. Until then, stay safe and have a great holiday.

Weltanschauung

Generally if I don't know what a word means I'll read it in context and see if I can figure it out from there. I'm not a huge "let's go to the dictionary" person, although that would certainly increase my vocabulary. I can sometimes figure out the latin roots of a word and that will help me understand it, but I'm not likely to spend a ton of time digging. English would be a far easier language if I learned Latin.

But this past week a German word sent me to the dictionary. Weltanschauung appeared in a book I was reading and I marked it with a book dart to research. See even then I don't go to the dictionary right away. I did after I finished the book though. Weltanschauung translates to "world wide view". It is the fundamental way that we view everything that happens in the world. For the last couple days I've been trying to figure out my weltanschauung. I suspect I'm a glass half empty kind of person but I'm not sure I want to see myself that way.

Publicly I tend to be a very optimistic person. I've had people tell me that I'm one of the more positive people they've met. And most of the time I do believe that things will work out for the best. But privately I'm a worrier (I get that from my mother). I waste a significant amount of time worrying about things that most likely will never happen. And in those moments I'm certainly not "the glass is half-full" type.

The author I was reading mentioned that his weltanschauung was that people were essentially good and that each day had a chance to be amazing. I will agree that I believe each day has the possibility to be great. The dawn offers a chance to change my life and change the world. But somewhere deep there is a worry. I appreciate all of the kindness I see around me. I believe that many people are like me, wanting to do good. I believe that there is more human goodness than badness. But there is still a part of me that watches and sees a breakdown of civility. Or a general indifference that nags at me. I can't read the news without testing my faith in human goodness. And when it comes to the animal issues that I'm so passionate about I become a complete pessimist.

Perhaps I'm oversimplifying a very complex weltanschauung. I do believe in human goodness. And most of the time I believe that we are heading in the right direction. I see little random acts of kindness all around me. I see friends who have other's best interests at heart. I believe that it is possible to make a difference (most days, don't catch me on my bad days). And when it comes down to it I don't know if anyone could say that they have a straight forward weltanschauung. We all have little half-empty, half-full sides of ourselves. Or maybe that's just me. And that's okay too.

Ear Worms

I've had a song stuck in my head since May. It's actually starting to drive me crazy. When I start to sing anything, it's always this song. I can't even think of a different one. And I sing all the time. I mean all the time. I sing in the shower. I sing while I'm doing dishes. I sing as I walk down the street. I even sing at work. I'm sure I drive my coworkers insane. Not loud. Just singing under my breath. And for the last month it's been this one song. So in an attempt to rid myself of it, I'm posting it here. Nothing else is working. It's a great song but...really...a month!

Damn you Joe Purdy for writing such fantastic lyrics!

Joe Purdy's The Pretenders (the link is just set to the album. You'll have to select the song.

Out of a Forest

Out of a Forest

I have no idea if I've shared this animated video before. If I have, I apologize. I just love it too much not to share. This is Out of a Forest, the bachelor film from Tobias Gundorff Boesen. The song is Slow Show by The National, a haunting song that gets in your head and stays there. The animation is so incredible that I go back again and again to watch it. I'm in love with the style. This film made me a fan of The National, made me buy this song, and made me watch this little scene over and over. Tobias just recently created a blog and it looks like he's sharing a bunch of other work. I'm excited to see his other films.

Warning: This video might be a tad too scary/sad for small children or the sensitive. Like me. But I still love it.

Plunderers

I woke at 4 am this morning. With the windows open any outdoor noise wakes me up, although I don't think that's what got me. I woke from a horrible nightmare with a start and then, only then, did I notice the odd thunking sound. It sounded like someone pounding on my fence. I stood up and glanced out the window to see plunderers attacking my bird feeder. Two raccoons decided to make a feast of my seed and were practically pulling the feeder off the shepard's hook. I hissed at them from the upstairs window but they didn't even bother to look up. I woke Jeff up who had the idea of going downstairs and trying to scare them away from there. He flipped the light on and off, opened and slammed the door and the bigger one didn't even bother to jump off the fence. It was only when he went outside (not ten feet from them) that they scurried away. But they were back within seconds. He finally went out and collected the feeder before they went away.

It was eerie, standing there watching them. They don't seem mammalian. Or at least not the type that I'm used to. And they were big. Bigger than I expected. I've only had one other run in with a raccoon before and that was way too close for comfort. I didn't get a good look at its body as I backed away hurriedly from the bushes it had been hiding in. I just remember screaming. Raccoons will not hesitate to go for the eyes if they feel threatened. So I had forbidden Jeff to go outside last night. He didn't listen and I'm very thankful. They would have easily ripped the hook down (it was loose this morning) and destroyed my feeder. The cat, wisely perhaps, chose to watch from the safety of the upstairs window. They easily had a good 20 pounds on her.

I tried to get pictures but none turned out. If I had been thinking (it was 4 after all) I would have just turned on the light and clicked away. Instead I tried to get shots with and without the flash, none of which turned out. After the feeder was in we went back to bed, only to be woken twenty minutes later by a woodpecker who was trying to break through my neighbor's metal gutters. It's become a daily habit with the stupid bird. I hiss at him and he goes away but is normally back within half an hour to try again. I'm not sure how well his tiny little brain is working. Or mine. I'm beginning to think that the feeder might not be such a good idea.

Folds

It's been quite a while since I last wrote about an artist I'm interested in. That used to be a weekly feature but since I've been posting only twice a week or so I've been cutting them out. So today I thought I'd share the utterly amazing work of Simon Schubert.

I found Simon's work through Lines and Colors, a blog that I have been in love with ever since I found it. Simon works in the medium of paper. Or more to the point he folds paper. He creases, he smoothes, and he creates intricate architectural masterpieces on single sheets of paper. There are no lines drawn on the paper above. That is all shadow and fold.

I love how he creates these architectural scenes that are all so structured yet he's also playing with perspective. They look vaguely 3-D. It's breathtaking in it's construction and elegance. They look so much like drawings, yet the are done one painstaking crease at a time. I wonder how long they take to created. And how often he has to take a step back to look at the full sheet. He manages to make a very simple medium, incredibly complex. If I haven't mentioned it, I'm in awe of this man's work.

Simon also does sculpture although I would say that it is not for everyone's taste. His sculpture has an interesting mix of disturbing and intriguing though. It's the kind of thing that I want to examine closer but I know I'll have nightmares later. If you like oddly creepy sculpture check it out. Otherwise, you need to see the rest of his elegant paperwork at his website above.

Down Memory Lane

I received an email this past week from a good friend of mine in high school. She had managed to track me down using the marvels of Google and had taken the chance to email me. To make this feat a bit more amazing I've undergone a name change (last name and nickname) and my friend lives in Japan. I was a bit shocked that she found me and even more excited that she remembered me.

This friend was an exchange student from Japan and we became good friends almost instantly. I have some fantastic memories of the time we spent together. But I didn't remember everything. When she sent me a second email and mentioned some of her memories, it sent me scrambling back to my old yearbooks. There were things I had forgotten. So for the last two days I've been looking back at old pictures and reliving my high school years. I'm shocked at how porous my memories of that time have become (then again it was 16 years ago). I feel a bit old lately.

I was not a particularly popular kid in high school but I had a couple of good friends. I am remembering lunches spent with a candy bar and a notebook. The faculty trusted me enough that if they caught me out of the lunch room and in the building they left me alone. I'm remembering awesome days listening to 8 Tracks in the Journalism Room while laying out a newspaper. I'm remembering driving friends home and to events (I was one of the early ones with a car). I remember the hallways and the choir common room where I spent a ton of my free time watching MTV. Mostly I've been remembering friends who I haven't thought about in a long time.

The city recently remodeled the high school and it looks nothing like the school I went to almost two decades ago. The last time I drove by I didn't even recognize that it was the same school. And in a way that makes me sad. I realize that probably very few of my favorite teachers are still there, but I kind of want the halls to look the same.

It's been a bittersweet couple of days. I've been reminded of some of the amazing times I had in high school. I've been remembering old friends and old teachers. I've been reminded a bit of that passionate youth I used to be. And at the same time I'm reminded that I've gotten older and that nothing has stayed the same. But I have to thank Fumiko. I would never have gone back to those old yearbooks. And for that doumo arigatou gozaimasu.

Nerd Strong

I've read Doonesbury for years. I love both Trudeau's characters and his great political satire. I've saved a couple of the good ones over the years and bought a couple of the books, but there's one that's tacked up on my bulletin board at my desk and I thought it was finally time to share it.

I'm a nerd, a geek, an oddball. I've been so all my life. In middle school I was called every name in the book. By high school I worried a lot less about the names. I was just happy doing my own thing. By college I was comfortable enough with my oddness, and now I downright embrace it. One of my coworkers this week called me a "super crazy geek" and I took it as a compliment. I have no idea if he meant it as a compliment (I actually think so) but that's how I'm going to take it. I'm a bit different. And I'm not worried about that.

So this comic strip about Nerd Strong resonated with me. I've started using the phrase myself. I'm impervious to insults. I'm comfortable being called a geek or nerd. I revel in my oddness. I find myself hanging out mostly with geeks and nerds. I find it makes life more interesting. And I think most adult geeks do the same. I think deep down we're all a little odd. It's just a matter of how much we let it show.

P.S. If the image is too small to read, you can always find the original here.

I'm Late, I'm Late

The White Rabbit by Sir. John Tenniel

I'm a huge Alice in Wonderland fan. I've read the books a couple dozen times and wrote a post about the Annotated Alice which Keith (one of my wonderful readers) had recommended. So I could think of nothing better to kick off this post than the white rabbit's mantra. I'm so late at getting posts out that it's not funny. I'm falling behind. I keep worrying that my posts aren't perfect so I don't post a damn thing.

So today that changes. I'm going to post crap some days. Be warned. These last three weeks I haven't posted because I am feverishly reading children's books and young adult novels. Several years ago my mother purchased the book 1001 Children's Books that You Must Read Before You Grow Up. So I'm trying to read them. So far I have about 200 under my belt. And I apparently want to finish the other 800 this week. I've made five trips to the library in the last two weeks. All of them (except one) have included more than a dozen books. I read a chapter book today.

Now I'm not likely to finish anytime soon. Many of the books are international stories that might be a bit tricky to find. But I'm going to try. I like having a goal. Even if it is a bit on the outrageous side. But I'm going to try not to let this take me away from everything else. "Everything in moderation." A lesson I still haven't learned. I'll keep you posted.

PS. If you haven't managed to read Lewis Carroll's brilliant but odd Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, you need to find a copy. Start tonight. Then let me know what you think.