Gloomy thoughts for a nice, sunny morning.

Had a restless night last night: Couldn’t seem to fall asleep, and when I did drift off, the dreams jolted me awake. I’m not really one of those that believe that dreams are prophetic, but (even though I can’t remember the exact content,) last night’s dreams left me with a feeling of dread. It felt as if something big was coming down. I don’t think it’ll be particularly bad in and of itself, but whatever is coming has the power to alter my life in a major and long-lasting way. I just wish I could remember more.

All in all, last night has left me feeling sluggish and foul tempered. I can’t help but dwell on a quote from Oscar Wilde (as I often do when I’m sluggish and foul), “There are two great tragedies in life: One is to lose one’s heart’s desire and the other is to gain it.” Looking at this statement, (and with all due deference to Oscar,) he didn’t quite get it right. While gaining and the loosing something wonderful is indeed tragic, even more devastating is to get just a taste, just a hint of some wonder but to never be able to attain it.

Did You Have One Of Those Days Today?

Did you have one of those days today, like a nail in the foot? Did the pterodactyl corpse dropped by the ghost of your mother from the spectral Hindenburg forever circling the Earth come smashing through the lid of your glass coffin? Did the New York strip steak you attacked at dinner suddenly show a mouth filled with needle-sharp teeth, and did it snap off the end of your fork, the last solid-gold fork from the set Anistasia pressed into your hands as they took her away to be shot? Is the slab under your apartment building moaning that it cannot stand the weight on its back a moment longer, and is the building stretching and creaking? Did a good friend betray you today, or did a good friend merely keep silent and fail to come to your aid? Are you holding the razor at your throat this very instant? Take heart, comfort is at hand. This is the hour that stretches. Djam karet. We are the cavalry. We're here. Put away the pills. We'll get you through this bloody night. Next time, it'll be your turn to help us.

- Harlan Ellison, Eidolons

You know who you are.

There Goes Two Hours Of My Life That I Can't Get Back...

Last night Mags picked up a copy of "The Fantastic Four" and she and I sat down to watch it. I remember when the movie had first come out I had cautioned Nibs not to take the boys to see it. From what I remember of the comics, Dr. Doom was the most interesting character in the series. Dark and brooding, always doing the wrong things for the right reasons, possessing a sense of honor without a smidgen of compassion or humanity, Doom was the perfect, twisted soul.

Now I'm glad I warned Nibs off, but for differect reasons.

The first thing that hit me as the movie started was how badly the actor playing Mr. Fantastic fit the role. Too young, too pretty, and working with a script that took Reed Richard's primary character flaw, over-analyzing, and elevated it to a nerosis.

Jessica Alba was likewise given a flawed interpretation of Sue Storm to work with. Instead of the conciliator, this Sue Storm was all about being a child of the aughts. I know that the Human torch was supposed to be her little brother, but it was almost as if the script writers confused the two personalities.

At least Johnny Storm and Ben Grimm behaved like they had in the comics, but I found myself with an almost overwhelming urge to throttle Reed and Sue.

As if this wasn't enough, the writers destroyed Doom. Instead of the amoral monarch that Stan Lee had created, this Doom was a self-obsessed uber-yuppie. Ignoring what was done to the heroes, this offense alone should merit the writers being strung up with their pens driven through their hearts.

Don't get me wrong, the effects were marvelous, and the potrail of the haunted Ben Grimm was masterfully done. Still, all in all, the movie left me hungry to dig up the old comics.

Here we go again

Here comes the 2nd winter storm of the season. It's supposed to be even worse than the first one, so I'm probably going to be stuck at home without any power. Still, it'll be a good eveneing to read and snuggle with Mags

Let It Snow

Looks like the first real snowstorm of the season has started. The forcast is calling for up to 12" which probably means we'll get 3-4" total. Still, there was that 36" "dusting" we had a couple of years ago. Looking forward to getting home ASAP and holing up.

No High Ground

Running through my head all day....

No High Ground
By Leslie Fish

Up to the dusty attic, out with the trusty gun,
The lawyer and the lawbook only go so far.
Sooner or later, push gonna come to shove.
Don’t think that it can’t happen where you are.

You don’t need committees or statistics to be sure,
How much the rich and powerful abuse the weak and poor,
And just as sure as nothing stops the world from turning ‘round,
The victims rise up in the end and throw the masters down.

Up to the dusty attic, out with the trusty gun,
The lawyer and the lawbook only go so far.
Sooner or later, push gonna come to shove.
Don’t think that it can’t happen where you are.

No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.
No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.

The masters know it’s coming, they try to keep it back,
With buying off, or scaring off, or deflecting the attack.
They may succeed for centuries in holding high their crown,
But soon or late the people rise , and the avalanche comes down.

No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.
No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.

They veil their chains in pretty words of God and Truth and Right,
They ban the poor folks’ weapons and teach them not to fight.
They play divide and conquer, “Go hate the Jews or Blacks!”
Until their victims stand up tall and dump it off their backs.

Up to the dusty attic, out with the trusty gun,
The lawyer and the lawbook only go so far.
Sooner or later, push gonna come to shove.
Don’t think that it can’t happen where you are.

No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.
No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.

The law can never make you free, for look who makes the laws.
The shark makes rules to sweep the smaller fish into its jaws,
And God will never make you free, for look who speaks for God.
The shepherd fleeces every lamb that he guided with his rod.

No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.
No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.

Ain’t no freedom here, not unless you take it.
Ain’t no justice here, unless you make it all.
Ain’t no safety anywhere unless you keep your rifle near.
Signs of change are everywhere and you gotta rise or fall.

No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.
No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.

The only friend that poor folk have is truth that can’t be killed,
For victory goes not to the strong, but mainly to the skilled.
So always question what you’re told and ask who does it serve,
And if that someone isn’t you, give ‘em what they deserve.

Which is up to the dusty attic, out with the trusty gun,
The lawyer and the lawbook only go so far.
Sooner or later, push gonna come to shove.
Don’t think that it can’t happen where you are.

No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.
No high ground, no high ground, no high ground any more.

Story time - A New Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was a race of small creatures that lived at the bottom of a fast rushing river. They spent their whole lives clinging to rocks on the bottom, resisting the rushing current that tried to pull them free.

One day, one of the creatures said to himself, “I don’t know where this current is going, or what it intends, but it seems so much bigger than me, and obviously wants me to go somewhere. Perhaps I should trust in what it has planned for me.” So he let go of the rock that he had spent his entire life clinging to.

At first he was bounced along the bottom of the river, smashed by stones and beaten by sticks. Soon, however, an eddy picked him up and tossed him high into the river’s flow, where he guided along safe and serene in the water that was warmed by the sun.

After a time, he found himself passing over another colony of these creatures. They looked at him gliding over them and exclaimed, “Look, there is a creature just like us, except it is flying!”

He called down to them, “You can do this just as well as I can! All you need to do is let go of your rocks!”

But the only stared at him blankly, and did not let go of their rocks, for clinging was all that they knew. Soon he passed from their sight and was gone forever.

“Come to the edge.” he said.
“But we’ll fall.” they said.
“Come to the edge!” he said
“But we’ll die!” they said.
“COME TO THE EDGE!” he said.

So the came to the edge.

And he pushed them.

And they flew.