John Mayer...Room For Squares Bjork...Greatest Hits Beth Orton...Daybreak Coldplay...A Rush of Blood to the Head Counting Crows...Hard Candy Score for The Two Towers
bubble gum tongue
Friday, January 31, 2003
You are 45% geek
You are a geek liaison, which means you go both ways. You can hang out with normal people or you can hang out with geeks which means you often have geeks as friends and/or have a job where you have to mediate between geeks and normal people. This is an important role and one of which you should be proud. In fact, you can make a good deal of money as a translator.
Normal: Tell our geek we need him to work this weekend.
You [to Geek]: We need more than that, Scotty. You'll have to stay until you can squeeze more outta them engines!
Geek [to You]: I'm givin' her all she's got, Captain, but we need more dilithium crystals!
You [to Normal]: He wants to know if he gets overtime.
a hopeful question calmly followed by, "i love you."
honest. spontaneous. worth more than i could ever articulate to him.
"i was just calling to see how your Christmas went."
a voice mail. priceless. seven years after the first question. seven years of the loss of one. seven years of the finding of the other. not together. not by a standard definition. not by any definition, really, except perhaps, a metaphysical one. linked in a way that's completely unexplainable. a derivation of strength that few would understand, and even less approve of. the disapproval was surprising in fact, coming from a source i would never have guessed. it stung bitterly, left me breathless. i recovered, forgave even, but a wall went up. a wall i thought i hadn't needed any longer. i would just keep it protected and it couldn't be broken again. he hadn't been there, didn't understand the connection, the need, the time, or the timing. i was convinced the wall was impenetrable. i was, of course, wrong, as i usually am about such things.
the breach came from a place entirely unexpected, which is why it was so effective. i stood helplessly as the wall crumbled, wondering why the Universe derived such pleasure from the perpetual torment of my psyche. the damned thing had only been up for five days. the wall, not my psyche.
"if this doesn't work, i'll find you."
sweet God, i didn't just hear that. the din of the surrounding conversations expanded to a dull roar, or it could have been the rush of blood in my ears. i did my best to forget what i'd just been told. took over the neighboring friendly banter, hiding in oft-told stories like they were deep shadows in a dark alley. the evening over. fresh air at last. i thought i'd escaped. cogitation, in my hands, is highly overrated.
"you think i was kidding before. i wasn't. one day when it's just you and me, i'll tell you things."
"i meant what i said."
a look. right down to my soul. "i know you did." closed fist to closed fist, we shared a touch. a street gesture. oddly appropriate. he drew me into a hug. tightly. my senses were overwhelmed for just that minute.
no feeling of loss, or regret now. no quiet anger with the irony of timing. unintentionally, i'd connected with someone. someone worth connecting to. it left me feeling....worth loving.
he gave me that gift. seven years ago.
do i want that future promise? i don't know. probably not. maybe. if it's honest. the vaguaries of fate. i don't know. it's not important, though. not really. the love is already there. that much i know. that's all that matters. love is never wasted.
0428hrs. i write because i can't doodle. just so that's clear.
and in a dose of reality
how can one argue with the girl's choice of reading.
the RB is home. Twice Shy was groovy. had Persian for lunch with the triBrain. it don't get much better. life, of course, would be perfect if all bits of Brain were occupying similar space at the same time, but one can't have everything.
Scorpy's comment to Sikozu in the tag? about the Scarren in him being a "fortuitous reminder". Fortuitous. odd choice of words don't you think?
Special Message to the Congress on Urgent National Needs
...For the adversaries of freedom did not create the revolution; nor did they create the conditions which compel it. But they are seeking to ride the crest of its wave--to capture it for themselves...
...First, I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth. No single space project in this period will be more impressive to mankind, or more important for the long-range exploration of space; and none will be so difficult or expensive to accomplish. We propose to accelerate the development of the appropriate lunar space craft. We propose to develop alternate liquid and solid fuel boosters, much larger than any now being developed, until certain which is superior. We propose additional funds for other engine development and for unmanned explorations--explorations which are particularly important for one purpose which this nation will never overlook: the survival of the man who first makes this daring flight. But in a very real sense, it will not be one man going to the moon--if we make this judgment affirmatively, it will be an entire nation. For all of us must work to put him there....
...It is a most important decision that we make as a nation. But all of you have lived through the last four years and have seen the significance of space and the adventures in space, and no one can predict with certainty what the ultimate meaning will be of mastery of space.
...I believe we should go to the moon. But I think every citizen of this country as well as the Members of the Congress should consider the matter carefully in making their judgment, to which we have given attention over many weeks and months, because it is a heavy burden, and there is no sense in agreeing or desiring that the United States take an affirmative position in outer space, unless we are prepared to do the work and bear the burdens to make it successful. If we are not, we should decide today and this year.
...This decision demands a major national commitment of scientific and technical manpower, materiel and facilities, and the possibility of their diversion from other important activities where they are already thinly spread. It means a degree of dedication, organization and discipline which have not always characterized our research and development efforts. It means we cannot afford undue work stoppages, inflated costs of material or talent, wasteful interagency rivalries, or a high turnover of key personnel.
...New objectives and new money cannot solve these problems. They could in fact, aggravate them further--unless every scientist, every engineer, every serviceman, every technician, contractor, and civil servant gives his personal pledge that this nation will move forward, with the full speed of freedom, in the exciting adventure of space.
John F. Kennedy spoke those words before Congress. Three years and one day before I was born. One man had imagination, and faith, and hope, and he spurred a nation and captivated a world.
how much hope do you have? how much imagination? how much faith?
i am stunned. appalled. blown away. befuddled. scratching my head in confusion. apparently, there is some giant furor over the so-called treatment of the character DK in Terra Firma. for frell's sake people, the character is a jackass. he's been a jackass since the beginning. what's the question? the guy is who he is. nothing more. so there wasn't some giant funeral scene. so what. that's not what the ep was about.
i'll let those angry fans in on a little secret. listening? you don't know that John doesn't grieve, that there wasn't a funeral, that it wasn't sad and poignant, blah blah blah. but there's only so much story time to go around. the guy was bitter and jealous and petty. he had no qualms about cheating on his SAT's, for frell's sake. he's ridden Crichton's coattails since day one and doesn't have the sense to not be bitter about it. why? because he's too busy lying to himself. i could, quite frankly, care less that he and his *lovely* wife got gnawed on by a creature.
grip people. get one.
feel better now, thanks. we now return you to your regularly scheduled whatever.
i take that back. just a sec.
the ratings are coming in. Tom Selleck kicked everybody's ass. don't bitch about it. remind yourselves that nobody said this campaign was going to be easy. but we give up now...cuz it's gotten hardddddddddddd....and guess what? Farscape loses, and so do we. it *is* hard. it *is* an uphill battle. there are *no* guarantees. but we're not done yet. at least i'm not. ratings across the board were down. Magnum garnered a 5.86 for TNT. that's huge. that's Taken's ratings.
I drive a Mitsubishi. I've leased a new one every few years for over a decade. I'm typing on an HP ZT1170 laptop. I love the pepper in the gravy at KFC. I send Hallmark cards. Not because they are the very best, but because they get it right a great deal of the time.
I've been a police dispatcher for 15 years. I'd like to say that I've lost track of all of the people I've heard die over the telephone, but that would be a lie. I remember them all. I remember them in detail. I remember the children beaten to death by their drugged out parents. I remember the woman calling one Christmas morning to report her husband of 57 years had died; the kids who called to report their 12 year old friend had just shot himself in the head, with a shotgun that his parents thought they'd locked in a safe. I remember the homicides, the suicides, the fatal car accidents, the innocent bystanders that became victims, and the suspects who wouldn't be if the world had been a different place for them. I am a fan of Farscape. I don't want to forget.
I love Farscape. I love the characters, the cinematography, the direction, the music, the irony, the comedy, the tragedy and the love. I love John Crichton. I love John Crichton for all the ways he isn't Jim Kirk, Jean-Luc Picard or Katherine Janeway. I love John Crichton for all the ways he is Benjamin Sisko. I love John Crichton for all the ways he isn't Jonathan Archer, but is Frodo Baggins and Aragorn, son of Arathorn.
I love the way that Farscape isn't afraid to fail; the assumption that its audience has an intellect and prefers to use it; the way Farscape doesn't settle for pushing the envelope but strives to finds ways to reinvent it instead. I love that all the women are strong, with fully realized hearts and fears; that they are the equal to any other creature that occupies the Uncharted Territories, and that their gender really doesn't matter at all, except to the men that love them.
I love Farscape because I love science fiction, a genre that at its very best reflects the human condition. A genre that takes our world and clothes it, layers it, wraps it in a different universe, allowing us to view our own lives with the clarity of an outsider, the innocence of a child. A genre that dares to dream. Farscape dares to dream.
I stayed at work last night to watch Terra Firma, the latest Season Four episode of Farscape to air in the U.S. When I walked outside I looked up. The moon was full, almost blinding. The clouds looked like so much creme swirled through blueberry sauce. I thought of my stepfather who died of cancer this past April, of how much I missed him, of his love of our country, his service to it as a pilot in the Air Force, of how much John Crichton reminds me of him. I looked up at the moon again. I remembered when I was a child and my father would wake us up to watch the Apollo mission launches. That light in the sky, that satellite of my home planet, holds the footprints of man. We walked up there. Watching John Crichton's homecoming in Terra Firma, seeing his father's love for his son, I thought of my mom. I wanted to call and tell her I loved her. Just because I do. Just because I can.
Science Fiction is about hope. Farscape is about hope. "Hope digs its roots into the future," said she. The future, the imagination; these are the playgrounds of science fiction. Hope, faith, endurance, love; these are the fuels of the soul. Imagination teaches us to dream. Hope and faith give us the strength to strive for those dreams. Love eases the pain of the striving, the enduring. Farscape is these things.
i was gonna blog about the ratings for Kansas. but, ya know what? it's too much effort about something i can't get worked up about. not because it's not important, but because i can't control it.
go write letters. go recruit viewers. watch next week and the week after and the week after that. watch with joy. nit pick if you must. but for frell's sake, focus on stuff you can do and don't stress about the dren you have no control over....like who buys what network, or what the ratings are for an ep that's already aired.
you have control over how many letters you write. you have control over how many folks you try to convert to Farscape. you have a say in what channel your tv is on next Friday at 8pm. your time is valuable. your energy more so. use it productively. be good to yourself. enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts.
on La Femme Nikita
strange, (which, by the way, is not spelled with an 'i')....strange where ideas come from. i've been stuck on the throwdown mission for 610. i can't quite get it right. still. grrr. but i think i've got it solved, and of all things, while brushing my teeth. the cup i have in my locker at work is one i swiped from my ex. (i only lied about being a thief.) it's from an intelligence service. it's official. i had an "ah ha!" moment. i was happy. this is me being happy. i think i'll retire to the library and try and tame MovieMagicScreenwriter with my LFN whip.
i've been a tomboy pretty much since birth. mom stuck me in frilly dresses. i got them covered in mud. could have something to do with being one of only two girls on the block. as such, i developed an extreme distaste for squealing, weak women, and petty games, and a lifelong love of football, baseball and hockey. also rather fond of Australian Rules Football. mmmmmmmm, men. hysterical overreactions tend to propel me, fist first, towards the offender, and if it's a female, i'm lookin' for a convenient trash bin.
i'm an odd mix then, at least from my perspective. very in touch with the masculine aspects of my psyche and yet still very much a woman. i like being a woman. i like the softer aspects of the gender. i'm not above getting all oogly over the latest fall colors. i'm a complete sap for bubble baths, flowers, candlelight dinners and men's cologne. on the other hand, i find feminism, for the most part, obnoxious, and feminazis an insult to the gender. don't get me wrong. i'm all for equality, but i think true equality would remove gender from the equation. true equality would remove racism from the equation for that matter. equality is an absence of bias. going out of your way to put women in positions of power, or whatever, simply because they are women is just as sexist, and just as offensive to me, as its male opposite.
where am i going with this, anyway?
one of the magazines i subscribe to is Real Simple, because it's, well, simple. and not mentally, you munchkins. it's elegant, it strives to uncomplicate one's life, to get the reader to appreciate the small moments in between, the precious fragility of time. it's the only magazine i get that i'd call a "woman's" magazine. the rest of that ilk bores me stupid. i know how to give a guy a blow job, thanks. that's not what i want to read about in a magazine.
Real Simple has a page in the beginning of the magazine called "Thoughts". the magazine chooses a word and finds quotes. in February's issue, the thought is beauty, which leads me to my point. i don't have "girl power" moments very often, but when i do, it's usually spurred by some collective gender issue. today's is beauty.
Voltaire, by the way, was a pretty sharp guy.
"Ask a toad what beauty is...His female, with two large round eyes sticking out of her little head, a large and flat snout, a yellow belly, a brown back." ----Voltaire, Philosophical Dictionary.
take time to see your beauty.
the world ceases to exist without us. we are the keepers of life. we are the keepers of empathy, of true courage, of love...of forgiveness...of endurance...of hope.
be good to yourself. give yourself the empathy, the kindness, the forgiveness, that you would grant another. remember though, that even in our fabulousness, we aren't perfect, as Lily Tomlin so amusingly points out....."If truth is beauty, how come no one has their hair done in the library?"
tonight's the premiere of Farscape. the last 11 eps of Season Four. since i don't see no fat lady singing, possibly because i've locked her in a trashbin out back, please visit maayan's to see that the lady doesn't wriggle her way free.....a rather ugly mental picture, i might ad. *shiver*
take quality television into your own hands. make your voice counted. you are not Nielsen, you, are Farscape.
the first time i heard this song, i thought of John and Aeryn....of the simple joy and playfulness that is their love in its safest, easiest moments. the lyrics are literal and figurative, as love is literal and figurative, as relationships are lyrical and subtextual. on the drive home from Colorado, Interstate 70 takes you through some of the finest skiing in the country. Vail has seen several feet of snow in the last month and the landscape was stark and yet technicolor. snow on the ground looked like meringue frosting, white and glinting in the afternoon sun. trees were a deep, deep green, contrasting with the red earth exposed on the mountainsides. there were places along the drive that almost literally took my breath away. Colorado is proof of the existence of the Divine....but i'll leave that for another day.
Coldplay had just finished spinning and John Mayer's Room For Squares was up next. hearing the song again, Farscape still came to mind, but this time it was Pip i was thinking of, not the uber-duo. Pip's fire, her tenacity, her fear, that fabulous irreverent streak, her ability to love, her unconventional nature, so complicated and yet so simple, her tendency towards cutting her own nose off to spite her face....i still see John and Aeryn when i hear this but....well, you do the math.
We got the afternoon You got this room for two One thing I've left to do Discover me Discovering you
One mile to every inch of Your skin like porcelain One pair of candy lips and Your bubblegum tongue
And if you want love We'll make it Swimming a deep sea Of blankets Take all your big plans And break 'em This is bound to be a while
Your body Is a wonderland Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands) Your body Is a wonderland
Something 'bout the way your hair falls in your face I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase You tell me where to go and Though I might leave to find it I'll never let your head hit the bed Without my hand behind it
You want love? We'll make it Swimming a deep sea Of blankets Take all your big plans And break 'em This is bound to be a while Your body Is a wonderland Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands) Your body Is a wonderland
Damn baby You frustrate me I know you're mine all mine all mine But you look so good it hurts sometimes
Your body Is a wonderland Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands) Your body is a wonderland Your body Is a wonderland
p.s. next time, the rest of the brain goes along for the drive.
back from a road trip to Colorado. much to wax blogic about but i need some more sleep first. that drive was insanely long, but beyond worth it. changed the blog title too, btw. i'll muse on that particular streamofconsciousness deal later, as well. cheers for now.