Mmmm, football and a roaring fire, and snow, snow at last! This is lovely.
Okay, I made ash. I've always had a fascination with burning fires. Most of my meals in the Philippines were made on a big wood stove. I used to poke at it a lot, crouched between the wall and the door. The maids usually didn't stop me though my parents told me to stop. Almost got seriously burned once or twice. As though that stopped me. There's something amazing about the way flames work. Sparks are fun too. I used to swish an embering twig around, making figure eights in the air, afterimages in my retina.
Thoughts of primal history, mankind, and saving on utilities for today.
Dude, you raised me: "How long've I been down?" "Eight months. I had to wait till the stars aligned." "Man, got a lot of catching up to do. 'Walker, Texas Ranger'?" "Taped every one."
7:25 PM He won't eat his vegetables, but he will eat his enemies
Steve of Blue's Clues... meeting up with hot blond Jewish chick. Blue has a present for Orange Kitten. Purr. And then, the next stop is Kwanzaa Man, aka Tyreice. Rowr! Bare head, has Purple Kangaroo. Mmmm.
Yu-Gi-Oh! Eh. A little seme/uke stuff, not much other than that.
X-men: Evolution. Brotherfic. Ggggh. Kurt's a girl. Hah...! Ggggghhh.
7:24 PM Let's show them how it's done, old school style!
I love this episode! Shy Ken! Awkward Cody! TK stays over at Davis's a lot... and the scene that had me up and screaming like a banshee, Mrs. T accosted by Evil Freak Guy! Kari complimenting Ken's smile! Strip poker! Laughing at the cuts from the commercials (of course *everyone* bathes with their digimon!) Jyou holding up the computer for Izzy! And who's that girl with Jun? I saw fanfic where she's Yolei's older sister. Kickass group shot I'd love to cap in full.
Even the het moment was palatable. I wanted to glomp that cheesy opening. Tamers is a slick machine but Season Two went to work and in about fifty shows, I spotted only two or three duds. Tamers, man. They rruuuule *shakes devil's horns*.
Anyway, the latest guilt gifts -- I say that now with lots of certainty because they're piling up and only about half the stuff is what I actually want -- a lovely knife set (that I *did* ask for), a couple of boxes of mail-order potstickers, and a box packed with a make-up set, chocolate (including liquored chocolate), some decaf(!) tea, and a card. Three different packages. I'm gonna bring the liquored ones on January.
By the way, the potstickers are simply fabulous with a sauce made of 2-3 tablespoons of brown sugar, and about the same amount of vinegar and of soy sauce. I'd recommend some crushed hot peppers for a little spice, and perhaps some garlic if you like. I also added the oil that I fried the potstickers in.
Man, I've needed to go to the grocery for days. I shan't have any cookies for Christmas at this rate.
I watched another special about the Eleventh. I think some time I'll go to New York. This time last year we went to Manhattan. We stayed mostly uptown, but I think I saw the towers from the plane and from the Empire State Building, at night. We were closest when we went to the U.N. Look, the subway token machines. Look, Radio City Music Hall. Look, Wall Street. I've been there. I *know* that place.
Is it so horrible to miss the landmark rather than the people? I mean, I didn't know any of them. The sheer numbers are awful. So are gang killings. So are drug overdoses. So are missing and exploited children. So is death by starvation.
Let me explain. I've always thought of my best friend and myself as Will Holloway and Jim Nightshade. I'm the one with darkness in my veins. I take the hits and I don't wonder why. I just know it's going to happen. Probably why I have problems with depression and she doesn't. Anyway, the weight of history touches me more. Do people understand how much energy, how much power they have? I'm scared people will forget not what the World Trade Center and Pentagon attacks mean, but that there is a real danger that those people died in vain. Go back to work, they say. Stay calm, hold those you love close, give more. But do we really want to return to the way it was? Do people see past the shock, the grief, the anger to the changes that need to happen? We are starting to be good at acting locally. Americans are notoriously bad at thinking globally. That day, the most prevalent comment was "It was just like Hollywood." As though the world held no frame of reference for not just an attack of this scale, but any kind of cruelty.
I'm scared it won't happen. Unlike The West Wing, history teachers don't run the government. The global market is still driven by American teenagers with credit cards. It's just like... I have a bad vibe about this. People don't know how this happened. My friend and I woke up that day and said, "This makes sense." We almost predicted the chain of events. We shook our heads at those who, weeks afterwards, still wondered "Why did this happen?" We knew the history. Will or Jim, we're educated and perceptive. I hope somebody talks about _why_. But I'm afraid it won't happen, not in a whole hearted way, especially as more time passes.
Those people who died deserve that discussion. They deserve the question of "Is it right to fight war with war?" They deserve to have an active drive for peace, as well as a war on terrorism. God, if there's one thing I want for Christmas, I want children to stop learning the language of war. You've heard it. It's on the evening news every night. Why am I hearing it on both sides? I know the reasons. Why don't the majority of Americans understand? I know those reasons too. I've lived through a lot of them.
I've done this before. I weep every time I see footage of the Challenger explode. (Same way I cry when I see those planes crash into the towers.) I cry first for the people. I still see the twin plumes of smoke, parting in the Florida sky. When I first saw it, I was too young to know where Florida was. But I remember, distinctly, that it didn't horrify me that these young astronauts, and this teacher, died up there in the cloudless sky. It scared me that the space program would be curtailed; that mankind would forget how to fly. Yep, that's what I was thinking, ten and under. I was living in the States when the space shuttle Discovery launched from Cape Canaveral at the end of the suspension. And then I cheered.
And the World Trade Center attack? I cry first for the people. Then my blood runs cold for those who only see jet planes slamming into buildings.
So I think some time I'll go to Manhattan. I want to feel how the city has changed. How it has not changed. The subway token machines. Standing in the middle of Times Square as Tom Brokaw signs off. Wandering around Chinatown. This is what history feels like, to me. A living city... whose breath was taken away one day.
I think people in this country are finally connecting history to this... to people, faces, stories. Hopefully they'll take some time to learn how it works.
Separate two eggs. Beat the whites till they form light peaks. Beat the yolks with some milk. Add a fourth cup of flour to the yolk mix. Now, I think I either need baking soda or less than the half cup of flour I eventually put in, total. It quickly got very glutinous and sticky. Gently fold in the egg whites. Pour the batter on a hot pan, *very* lightly greased. Make small cakes about two inches in diameter. Flip it only when the sides are firm and the top begins to bubble up. The finished hotcakes will have an even brown side and a large bull's eye spot on the other side, the "heads" side.
Nothing better than a theatre full of people who've read the book. The FX dudes were addicted to dizzying pans; my friend closed her eyes, they were so disorienting. Alas, Lothlorien seems to be the part that was cut the most... couldn't they have gotten there when the sun was shining? That's how I think of it, golden and light and beautiful. And one of the most important contrasts is Galadriel of the morning and Arwen of the evening. We were left hanging on the Gimli joke and Cate Blanchett's lovely blondness was wasted, in my opinion. Aragorn and Gandalf's long friendship was also glossed over, too -- Legolas and Aragorn seemed closer. The full shot of Sauron in the beginning was disconcerting (he's barely got a form, I thought) and there seemed to be five different pronunciations of "Isildur." And why, why, after Saruman used the Dwarvish name for Moria, did *Gimli* call it Moria more than once??
Otherwise... a masterful adaption. Kickass. An excellent action movie. Really amazing performances. And, oh, sooo many slash moments. Took a great effort not to shout out every time. I am such a well trained fan girl. Anyway, I think I'll be seeing that baby again. Those three hours just flew by. New Zealand was perfectly cast! Boromir's slice of the script was damned impressive. And best of all, almost everything was almost exactly what I imagined. Even down to the orientation of places on the map. Plotwise, lots of things actually worked *better* than the book. Completely adapted to the medium, and just a wonderful film experience.
This is after watching a "Nature" on ravens. Damned interesting stuff. Really must buy more Celtic type music. Anyway, I'm not too happy with this tidbit... it's raw enough to be called a bunny, but since I won't be around for a time, thought I'd leave it with you guys.
Columns of steam swirled into the freezing wind, inscribing patterns in Touma’s mind. It was well below zero Celsius in the shade, but all he felt was his bow in hand and the bison in sight.
Snow gathered on the side of his parka like a great white dune. He’d achieved stillness hours ago. The cold had seeped past the layers of synthetic fabric to dampen his heartbeat. It wasn’t so much discomfort as reassurance.
Not so for the bison. They huddled near the geysers even as the warm mists froze on their fur. Touma could feel their breath running sluggish through their bodies.
The air exploded with a brief jet of water. Once more Tenku flared. This was the only distraction from his vigil. All the elements in concert were too much like the currents in his soul, the trembling earth, the deep fire, the twin jewels of sunlight and water flung into the open sky.
Touma breathed in the stinging cold. There. He raised the bow slowly, frowning in concentration. The bison staggered forward, and at once he felt its failing heart, the cold which sought to squeeze its spirit from its body. The great animal faltered. There was a soft crunch of snow as it fell. Touma shuddered, feeling the whiteness turn to dark, the last breaths of agony forced from its lungs.
A whisper. His own. “May the gods of this land hallow your spirit.” He aimed the bow.
He had no arrows.
His kanji cast a bluish light on the snow as he shaped the chi. A long inhale. And then he let it go.
The bison’s dying breath was snatched from his mouth.
Touma breathed in, the freezing air shocking him out of trance. As the power ebbed away he began to shiver. He sat back in the snow and stared at his handiwork. Dead bison.
His senses were still humming when just behind him the shadows gathered up and grew. There wasn’t even a crunch of weighted snow, only a rush of air flowing out of the way. Anubis. Even after all this time, Touma could not banish the flashes of darkness and fear. Kujuurou never complained. He’d ventured into Touma’s dreams and likely seen more disturbing things. Besides, he rarely took offence.
When he did, he killed.
They stayed still for several more minutes, watching. Ravens gathered around the carcass like black-cloaked mourners. One of them spread its wings and cawed.
“What are they waiting for?”
Impatient. Touma smirked. In such deep winter Kujuurou’s body temperature wasn’t much higher than the air, but he still huddled closer. More ravens landed, coming out of nowhere.
Then the trees bowed down and out stepped a lone grey wolf. Touma felt a shiver run down his spine. Kujuurou wound his arms around him. “Watch.”
The wolf tore into frozen hide, its eyes darting about. Touma grimaced as the ravens dug into their meal. They hopped comically in the snow before snatching some morsels. Touma was drawn to the wolf, a scruffy thing that looked glad to have a meal.
“Reminds me of you. Scrappy.”
Kujuurou laughed lowly. For the first time Touma’s numbed sense of smell could pick up his musky scent.
I killed that animal.
Is that why you waited here for so long?
He was in pain. Years ago he could not have imagined himself in this situation. Even in his battles he’d been disabled but never seriously tortured. Touma was an urban kid, used to comfort and sophisticated things.
Death is simple. “I’m glad Seiji isn’t here.”
Kujuurou’s breath steamed out. Touma knew he was a puzzle to the other man, and he waited for the question. The wolf ripped a choice piece from the mid-section. “Are you afraid of what you have become?”
That was not what he’d expected. “I was always more afraid you’d end up with Seiji.”
And Kujuurou held him closer because he could not laugh too loudly. “You remember those eagles we saw?”
Practicing courtship, flying straight up and then locking talons, wheeling, whirling wings half-folded in a tailspin, falling... A beautiful, dangerous love.
“At least he has someone else now,” Touma whispered. “Seiji should not see this. He’s old-fashioned; an easy death is no mercy for him.”
Kujuurou snorted, letting his thoughts on a merciful death be known.
But if you are the wolf, what am I? “The raven.”
“...what?” That carrion-bird was what Kujuurou scented in his soul? He looked out at the decimated carcass across the field.
“Ch, ch. Look.”
On the far end of the clearing, there was a slope leading up to a stand of trees. A couple of birds lit at the top. Touma’s sharp eyes followed them as they capered up the hill... and then flopped over and rolled down, wing over claw. They acted like big black puppies rather than gloomy scavengers. Touma grinned at their play, delighted.
Kujuurou’s mouth moved over his skin. “Wise, long-lived, but also brazen thieves. Always thinking of food and mischief.” Companions to coyotes and wolves. One bird shook itself off and stared right at Touma.
“I guess they are pretty intelligent,” Touma allowed. "Legends say they’re also shapeshifters and spies. Magicians’ familiars.” Death. “I have heard tales of ravens leading wolves to a kill.” His hands on him now, chill fingers breaching his layers, tingling on his skin. “You might have been an eagle, Touma. A bird of the sun and sky. You chose.” I am glad. Touma breathed in. The bison would be gone in a day, returned to the earth. The wolf would eat its fill and move on. The eagles would hunt their prey and prepare for the matings of spring. Ravens mated for life.
“The raven also stole the sun,” he said. “He flung it into the sky.” And Touma wrapped himself in the winter-heart of his lover, he knew it meant more than darkness and light, raven and wolf. It was the snow stillness in his heart, the dream of an end to pain, the discerning eye of a hunter... a stealer of warmth.
The ravens watched as they vanished into the shadows on the snow.
This is when I really have to watch myself. I was on a roll three days ago, getting things done, keeping to a schedule... and then in the past two days I've slept in, messed up my schedule, and generally hypnotized the hours away. It was really crunch time in terms of a lot of things, too. My immune system was fighting something off, I think, but damn it, it's forty degrees out there, it's beautiful, and I'm not out there doing stuff. Dangerous, dangerous time, if I'm having trouble engaging. I'm even having trouble calling up the boys.
It may be just holiday blues precipitating the crash. Probably. This is my first Christmas alone. I'm okay with mood swings, but this was just a spiral. Yuck. Okay, gonna try hard to undo this. Maybe I'll go to the Science Museum and see the shark exhibits. Mmm.
Sooooo... I can afford a DVD player. However, I cannot afford a TV / VCR combo. Um? Problem.
The Rams beat the Saints in their house. ^^ Whee! Gods, I've missed Rams football. Warner is superhuman, no one should be able to throw a football while being rushed by several three hundred pound dudes not only at a moving target but *at the receiver's eye level* so they don't have to stop running. That's fuckin' beautiful. Saw all m'boys, Marshall, Az, Torry, Aeneas, Ricky, Bruuuuuce, Grant, Orlando, and started learning some of the new guys' names.
Alas, there were many penalties called (what, some 200 yards in penalties?) and at one point some idiots in the N'awlins crowd started throwing bottles on the field. Okay, firstly, that was a holding penalty, even I saw that. Secondly, *nothing*, not even that debacle at Cleveland where the official really did screw up, justifies that kind of behavior.
In other news, I'm a sucker for Monday Night Football's violin crescendo. I'm thinking once I get money I should start buying cool violin solos.
Also, I loved seeing all the Budweiser commercials. Not the dumb ones, but the ones where Auggie Busch... er, number 5? Number 6? Lost count. Anyway, where they have the Clydesdales in the snow and show the old taverns. I've never even *had* a Bud, but I love the tradition of it: seeing that old brewery downtown, in sight of Busch Stadium, the stables for the Clydesdales, the old houses, knowing how many people depend on the brewery for jobs, and have for generations. I guess wherever I go, I'll always be a St. Louis girl. I'll never want to live there again, but my allegiances will drift back to that city.
Nickleback. You've probably heard it, it's the most played song in the country. Yohji-song. Bad, bad Yohji. Go back to your Clapton and your "Wonderful Tonight" angstiness. Shoo.
it's not like you to say sorry, i was waiting on a different story... this time i'm mistaken for handing you a heart worth breaking
i've been wrong, i've been down ito the bottom of every bottle
Adrian Paul.... on UPN on Sunday, at the 8 PM Central hour... playing some super sensitive alien who can feel and channel energies with his hands... Adrian Paul! Kill me now... oh my god, his shirt is hanging off his pecs... tighter pants, you idiots, tighter pants! Playing naive and determined and he comes with a collar... nnnnnn! He carries it around. Yesssss, I like my Adrian in the desert, ow ow ow... Oooh, disable the soldier before the cell phone hits the ground. It's so weird, this Cole guy he plays has electric powers and has special senses. Fights taken outside where no one can disturb 'em. Cool martial arts. Duncan clone! Am I complaining?
Did I mention he comes with a collar?
Okay, it doesn't belong to him, but gwaaaaahhh...
Forget the sucky script, that is so hot in so many ways. It's called "Tracker." Be careful, it's on UPN, but... rrrrrr... oh gawd...
Woah, he's executive producer! That explains a few things. Rawr. Wai! Based on a short story, I missed it. trackertv.com apparently has all the lowdown.
~60K of graphics :: Koani by
Alice in Wonderland :: Scorpion by Ushikai Background and buttons by Triple Orbit Graphics ~ Sadly it's no longer at its former website.
