Just a warning. I do recommend reading the previous post, Alternate_Lives:_Awareness. As it is part one to the story, it allows this post to make a little more sense (such as it is :).
Again, thanks in advance for reading, and I appreciate all of you that have taken the time to read this rather long story.
Interlude
The others signaled to her.
Time.
Ironic to use the word in such a matter considering, time was what was at stake. No, not ironic. Nothing was anymore. She sighed, as if it could be heard in this unrelenting void, the space she moved between. The others could barely be felt, they were so distant, waiting for the ultimate end. Still, they were quite aware of what had to happen, aware of his purpose. Like many of their experiments, though, he was not exactly moving according to plan. She considered the failures, though it pained her to recollect them.
Awareness… it came a little too late. Some of it was his doing, others environmental. Then, it took him too long to control his awareness; however, his control was at issue now. He had become too good at crossing the boundaries of time and space. They only wanted him aware, not able to control anything. She had warned them of the possibility. They refused to listen, of course. She knew… knew he would become like this. But then she had always known the best and worst in him.
The others grew impatient… they had waited so long. She simply recognized their thoughts and agreed. It was time, as it ever was in the realm between the seconds. She only hoped that this, too, would not backfire on them.
Part II: Falling Toward Eternity
snap
I watched them sleep. Such has been my curse, ever since I found… ever since I left her. Still, her happiness has always been most important to me, and in that place, with that um… me, she finally could be happy. So why have I kept coming back to this moment, the precise moment I left her with me? Transdimensional mechanics were far too confusing, and I had studied the subject for eons it seemed. I sighed, though they could not hear me. It seemed better that way. Pity, though, she still thought the person lying next to her was the real me, the one who brought her to this reality, our own Eden. Then why did I decide to leave her?
I pondered this question for some time, even while jumping from one reality to the next with a skill that would make any cross-dimensional traveler proud. Not that I had met any others beside myself, and those who decided to come with me. I wondered if I had been abusing my abilities, putting friends and family in the exact situation that they should have been in all along. I continued to check on them periodically, and with a few odd exceptions I could not control (like celestial mishaps and alien invasions), they all got on very well. I felt pleased with my work, almost like… well, almost like a beaming parent, or deity.
She stirred, sleeping a bit restlessly. Had I influenced the environment, caused her to emerge from the deep sleep of passion? No, she knew me better than anyone else, knew the real me, before my… emergence. She might have sensed me somehow. Perhaps it was a sort of dimensional attunement. We had traversed dozens of dimensions before settling on this one, a pastoral world that did not know the horrors that could lay in its future. Maybe… no. I doubt that could have been it. She was the catalyst, but was she ever aware?
Who’s chasing who?
What the…
I walked quietly out of the shelter and into the slight chill of the pre-dawn air. I heard… nothing. How I wished I… no. I turned back to her, watched her carefully, once the light in my eyes, now meant for other days. I started to reach to her, to touch her face one last time… but I could not.
‘Good night my love’, I whispered to the air.
I let them sleep, content in the moment. I let them have that at least. Morning would come soon, and they had this world to face… together.
snap
Something had bothered me about that night, watching them. I had these types of thoughts while traveling. It almost became an art, moving between the fabric of time and space. I could slow down, take my time if needed, or get there almost before I left. (I admitted that was a rather taxing trick) Normally, I gave myself about an hour or so, sometimes a little less, that way I could absorb some information about my destination. I had realized that this had been my problem early on in my travels. As I became aware, I was shifting between realities at a frighteningly fast pace, and hence my disorientation each time. Now, it was almost like walking through a door, except that I had been tearing apart the fabric of space-time. Occasionally, I thought of the consequences of my actions. Was I causing any rips in time and space, or accelerating the collapse of the universe, or several universes? I decided to leave that question for future generations to consider. Yet somewhere, in the depth of my being, I knew something was not quite right. Dimension hopping surely took its toll on some inherent nature of the universe. I really could not consider that. My purpose seemed set. I had learned so much, seen more than could be imagined. I could not stop, nor did I want to.
This one... this vision... had always intrigued me. One that got away, so to speak. She had a quality to her that I could not describe, even when I had known her, all too briefly. Had it been so long ago? Time, I thought, was irrelevant, yet my memories said otherwise. I really needed to look into that. Was I aging mentally? I had all but stopped the process of physically aging, one strange side effect of literally blasting myself apart and rebuilding myself with every transit. Did I die each time? I smiled slightly, bemused at my query. I had seen death. The answer really did surprise me.
I waited a little longer this time, almost as a ghost, observing patiently, perhaps more than I should have. I had my reasons, especially in this place. Through some strange twist of dimensional physics I could not even bear to comprehend, we only met in this dimension. How odd. And stranger still, it was the Prime… well, my Prime. The one I left, I suppose. Yet I still existed in Prime, even though the sum of my memories came from this dimension before my Awareness. How, then, was I functioning? Did I make a copy? Or did another me fill the void somehow?
These things continued to puzzle me as I watched our interaction, not long before I became aware. Ah, the answer. If I moved further into the future, would I still exist? No, I existed as myself, as this traveler.
What if we are all mirrors of the same soul, fragmenting more and more?
Right, waita… that voice again. I shook it from my mind focused on the task at hand, and decided to attempt something rather strange. This soul, this woman’s existence, was only in this reality. That had really disturbed me. No analog, how? It seemed as if I should do something about it. Maybe I could. What was that Einstein said once? Well, I’m not rolling dice, nor am I God. If I had such control of time and space, the ability to take others with me, could I not… yes. It would take a lot of doing. So be it. I hoped someone appreciated this. I concentrated and felt the fabric of space-time cry out in the pains of celestial birth.
Ow. That really hurt.
snap
Uh-oh.
The splendor of it all laid before me, literally diverging before my eyes. I was awestruck, really. Honestly, I thought it was a simple thing to create an alternate reality. I mean, we did it all the time it seemed. Every decision we made had another outcome, at least most of them, and therefore, an infinite number of alternate realities existed. So, why was the creation of this one so spectacular, and so… so… taxing. I simply suggested an alternate thought in her head. How bad could that have been? Maybe she was bound and determined not to have that thought. But there was only one of her. How? Why? And why did I feel as if I were drifting… quite fast actually, drifting back into… back into…Wait… I wanted to see what I had created, like all… I just wanted to see. I felt the divergence as if it were a part of myself, torn from my being. I saw through the universe’s eyes. I saw the lives I created. I saw…
snap
My room. What a terrible dream…too jumbled to even sort it out. I tried to clear my head, but could not. The world kept spinning. Was I out drinking? This would have been the usual result. I peered over at my dusty nightstand. No Gatorade, so intoxication was probably out. Sick… that was it. I was sick. The sense of nausea overwhelmed me, and I stumbled through the vertigo and into the bathroom, hoping not to create a terrible mess. I reached for the toilet, and the nausea left me. What the… that was quick. I stood up and noticed that the world had in fact stopped spinning. Good. Something was wrong, though.
I knew this place… my apartment, could smell the dust, the slight smell of dirty dishes, whatever take-out I had left in the sink, and the horrors that probably inhabited my refrigerator. I really needed to clean up. But that was not the problem. I was pretty sure I was a messy person. Not wrong… a little disgusted, but why should I have been if that was normal? I scanned the living room, looking for reminders, anything that would help sort my head out. The posters seemed right. TV, ok. Computer… again a little dusty. The books, ah… I fumbled through them, knowing a problem would arise. Medieval history, biography of Richard I, in English, um… Civil War battlefield atlas, ok, comic books, ah, light reading, and oh… how did that get in this pile? Nothing metaphysical or odd within the novels, though. I had hoped for something more. The realization sunk in. There was nothing more. Everything was fine, but why did it seem wrong?
Maybe I should have gone back to sleep. No, I did not need that… yet. A drink, maybe. I moved over to my windows and opened the blinds. The view over the pool was the same, though I could have sworn it was winter, and not the dead of summer. Hmm… the air conditioner was running full blast. Definitely summer. I sighed and sat down on my couch, hoping something, anything would come to my fragmented mind and answer some… any of my questions. If I only knew what the questions were, that would have helped as well. The longer I sat pondering, the more I wanted to drift… feeling a bit out of sorts, no more out of sorts, hearing voices that did not belong to me, seeing places I had no memory of. Loving those that I had never loved. It was becoming too much for me. A terrible, horrible thing. I did not want this, could not control the influx of emotion and memory.
That will cause problems very soon.
That voice… I knew it, but it was not the voice I thought it belonged too. How odd. Most of this was rather odd. It seemed as if I was expected to know some great truth and the world waited for me simply to produce the solution. Holding its breath, that’s how it felt. Why?
Because you have to make the decision.
I spun around as time seemed to slow, crawl to a stop. My apartment folded, shifted, and distorted. I even seemed to be out of place somehow. Her. But not quite… she reminded me of so many I had known… millions it seemed, but I know I could not have… or could I? She almost seemed ethereal, like I was confronting an angelic being. Her expression, though, was far less angelic.
“I know you… I think. No.” I was sure. “I do know you, but you’re… elsewhere.”
“Of course you do. Well, our souls know each other. And part of me is elsewhere, for now. And I am glad you’re not as confused I as I thought you would be.“ She spoke elegantly, almost with no trace of accent. “Oddly enough, we have very little time for discussion. I need to get you sorted out, and quickly.”
Funny, I had heard that before, too, but in real life…er… a life. “What’s happening… happened to me? I’m remembering far too much...”
“Are you? I doubt it. Your body is simply readjusting considering the strain you put it under.”
“Strain?”
“Congratulations. “ She waved her arms around my apartment, though she seemed to want to encompass more. “You managed to create your own reality. Even God needed a day’s rest after six days work. You’ve been asleep for weeks.”
“Oh…” I sniffed at the kitchen. “That explains a lot. No… wait… surely I’m not... “
“No… just in tune with the flow of space-time, but better than anyone else, I’ll grant you.” she smiled at that, as if she had something to do with it.
“Look… I feel like there is a grain, well, more than a grain of truth to all of this, but who the heck are you? Really? I mean, I know you, but I don’t. You should be having a happy existence in another lifetime with another… me. Pity that. “ I did not quite comprehend the memories flowing into me, but they were real enough.
“It’s really not important.”
“Yes. It is.” I shot her a cold glance. I had to know. Something, aside from the universe bending and collapsing around me, was not quite right.
She sighed, somewhat exasperated it seemed. I did not care. I wanted answers. “I’m an old… soul. We have known each other for a very long time and in many incarnations, in many realities, including this one. That’s the short answer. We don’t have time for longer explanations.”
Actually, it made sense, especially considering the memories and all that I had apparently done. I could not stop looking at her, feeling the emotion pour from her. Something was tearing at her with regards to me, and in turn, it tore at me. I continued to look into the mournful depth of her eyes. The longer I looked, the more I knew. The more I… Was she healing me? Making me remember?
No. You are healing yourself. Keep remembering.
And telepathic to boot. Wonderful.
Remember… I remembered. The core of my being, the catalyst. Her… a portion of her at least. What went wrong, then?
“A lot of things really.” she admitted. “There are others like us, though not with our ability. Except their awareness is a curse, not a boon. You see them all the time. Neurotics, sociopaths, politicians, history professors, others like that. “ She smiled wryly. I chuckled a little. I think she was joking, some. “They want this to end. The splitting of realities in every instant is painful beyond words to them. And in some ways, to all of us. Our souls cannot keep fragmenting this way.
Clearly understating the obvious I said, “So my act of creation did more harm…” I understood. Still, I wondered (and knew she could still hear me) about the positives. The knowledge that our decisions might have worked out for the best, the hope that our regrets did not have to be forlorn. I could see the beauty of many of the lives I had lived, and the sorrow of others. Funny, she existed in so many. Would it have been something more if only one of us existed? I sighed and looked to her again. What right had I to create others, but what right did we have to take them away?
What about the new soul? The ones who have not fragmented across time and space. What about the soul you tampered with out of ego alone?
“I did not create parallel universes. “, I glowered at her. “Besides, she would have made a decision eventually that would have caused a split… somewhere. It is a fundamental nature of the universe. Or is it? Could I… ” She sat, quietly, waiting for my own answer.
I understand.
snap
“It’s done…” I stammered, barely able to breath, to feel. I laid on my apartment floor, hardly able to move, the last of my strength fading. She was whole… I… we were whole again. But it did not matter. She looked down at me and caressed my cheek. I could see her, as she had always been, still angelic, and yet… she was fading too. We were whole and all I wanted… I could see… the light of the universe in her eyes, but all I wanted to see was her love, borne of so many lives together. Would we still… All I wanted…
“One more destination, my love.” she then kissed me with a gentle passion that reached beyond all the moments of our existence. A smile… her smile, and…
snap
Epilogue: In the Beginning…
I’ve been here before.
Not quite.
The brilliance of the universe unfolded in one chaotic, yet ordered instant. The universe was not dying, I knew that now. It was about to live... All my thoughts, my dreams, my lives faded into darkness, but within the darkness an ember burned bright. So bright… so… wonderful. Would it be right this time? Will what I have done, fade with me?
No… that’s why I’m here. That’s why I was here, mere moments ago. I laughed, if laughing were possible.
She was right, I thought, as I saw the rebirth… as my soul, my essence, became a part of what would be. I hoped… at the dawn of time I hoped for us all. She was right.
I hadn’t been here before.
C.
17 January 2007
Alternate Lives: Awareness
Prologue: Entropy
Do you finally understand?
Such a scene overwhelmed my senses, even in their present state. So vibrant, so electric… words, even if they could, did not escape my lips. Transcendent, the only way to begin to describe this event, an event I knew would come to be, just a sure as everyone else who came before me knew. Of course, no one could ever believe there would be a witness. Honestly, I was amazed at that fact. Yet, I stood, well… drifted really, within the mesmerizing show around me. It called to me, just as I called to it. I did not know how, only that it sought something primal within, as if it knew as well I would be here. Could a consciousness exist, even now? Perhaps not a true consciousness, but more of a collective understanding… a knowledge of what was, is, and, well… would be was something of a problem that needed sorting out. Unfortunately, no time remained, or seemed to exist for that matter. I laughed internally and realized that matter itself was about to cease. Fine time for me to think of the ironies of the universe. And the universe… it lay before me, collapsing into entropy. I had read many books, articles and papers on this subject thousands upon thousands of times. Still, the event never could prepare me for the inspiring wonder of it all. I guess if I could conjure an audience I might have written about the event. Since no audience existed, I let the inspiration pass and waited… waited for the last seconds of existence to spectacularly slip away.
Only one thing plagued me in this rather calm (really not near as violent as I thought) end to all that was, er… is… How did I get here?
snap
I knew that sound, should I have even heard one.
I think it is a convention you dreamed up.
That voice… thought. I knew it as well. I let what was left of my consciousness drift to the sound. I could feel an image form in my mind, and though the universe collapsed around me, I managed to be shocked one more time.
Don’t worry… I’m not so much who you think I am.
I thought I was the only one left, the only one who could be here… at this point.
Left? Perhaps you have forgotten… or you still don’t understand.
I tried to contemplate a response, but none would come. Wait. I came here of my own accord. But why? She… yes, she… how? How, anything, really? No, I do not understand, I replied as well as I could.
You will.
Part I: Awareness
You have to remember… or be damned.
snap
I awoke with a start. Voices… dreams. All... a dream. Getting more intense though. Felt horribly real. Still dark. I looked over to the pale light of my alarm clock. Four AM. Typical. About when I have been waking up recently. I would not be able to get back to sleep, that much was certain. No rest for the sleep deprived. Oh… I noticed the book next to me. I must have been reading it, trying to take my mind off school and the paper I had to write. No wonder I was having crazy dreams. 12th Planet. Great read, but a bit out in left field… somewhere near Jupiter.
I sighed, vowing not to read any of Sitchin's books late at night, at least until the next time I did it. Disgusted, I tossed the paperback aside, and got out of bed. Even though it was still early, I turned on my computer and stared for a moment fruitlessly. I wondered if I would ever finish this latest research paper. Finish? Sure. Would it be any good? Well… I glanced at the biography of Richard I sitting by the computer. Interesting enough, but I needed more than a biography to support my conclusions. Something seemed odd about the title. I had not remembered seeing that before…
snap
Was I nodding off? My face felt like it hit the keyboard again? Damn. Never going to finish this paper. Thirty-five pages on the criticism of historiographical methods in Medieval History. I yawned thinking about it. Why wouldn’t they let me just do my research? I had enough to do without the extra... I stood up and shook the cobwebs out of my head. Felt a little… unsettled. Not enough to eat? I looked around at the squalor that was my small apartment. Hmm… leftover fries and a cheeseburger. I sniffed the burger. Still good, so I must have eaten recently. I lazily took a bite, more out of requirement than hunger. Setting the burger back down on the edge of my cluttered desk, I stumbled to the kitchen and peered into the wastes of my refrigerator, hoping not to be attacked by the leftovers before I retrieved a carbonated beverage. I succeeded, barely. What was that yellow mold on the cheese? Ew.
No time, never enough. Had to get this paper done, or I would fail this semester and lose my financial aid. Could not let that happen, for I had worked too hard to get back into school to finish my grad work. Shouldn’t have spent all that time gaming… ah, well. Not completely my fault. I was married to a gamer for a while. I sighed. Look how that turned out. I had been divorced for almost two years and she was still angry over details. Details... I was always lost in hers. Icy blue eyes... long, luxurious black hair that she occasionally dyed burgundy, and the way she moved... ah. Enough. After all that we had been through, I deserved a little anger too. Well, such was the way of things. I tried to move on... and it was working out so well. I took a drink of the soda and was thrilled to have the caffeine soon work its magic and keep me up long enough to finish. I shuffled over to my desk and sat back down, catching a glimpse of myself in the monitor’s reflection. Man, did I look that bad? I shrugged. I did not care. Nor did I want to.
A chill rolled up my spine, that feeling as if something is not quite right, but not quite wrong. It just seemed odd. I could not place it, and continued typing away while deciphering a journal’s bad French to English translation. Then the realization hit me. I was translating a journal from Latin, not French. I would swear by it. I may have been tired, not taken leave of my now rattled senses. I searched the mess that was my desk, my room and throughout my apartment, but to no avail. The journal I knew I was working on had disappeared. And the journal I had in front of me was one I had never seen before… I looked at an article in the journal. An author was examining the research of Richard the Lionheart’s latest biography, calling into question his attack on the Vexin in 1201. I dropped the journal and my heart skipped a beat. Richard I died in 1198 from a gangrenous crossbow wound at Chalus-en-Chabrol. He never attacked the Vexin, but something in the back of my mind told me it was so. As if I were remembering days that never were. But the logical part of my brain screamed what I was remembering was impossible. It had to be. No. Richard lived for ten more years and conquered the remainder of France. I muttered to myself, “C’est imposible!”
I was speaking French. I said some more words. French. I had never been able to speak French this well. English? I tried, but it sounded painful. Arrgh. Middle English. My memory reminded me that English was a dead language as much as Greek. Latin? Almost perfect. I knew the world was not right and I was becoming a part of it. I scanned the flat quickly (flat? Damn.) Everything seemed alright. The televisor was where it was supposed to be, so was the wireless. I looked over at my desk. The computation machine appeared to be in order. Even the Interweb was functioning. I decided to turn on the televisor to check the programmes. Five stations? Wait, it was a Sunday. New Bretigny United would be playing... but, what happened to the Cow...
snap
Thump!
“Ow… dammit!”, I yelped as I hit a hardwood floor. Hey, that was in English; however, I distinctly recalled my apartment not having hardwood floors. I was groggy, a bit calm, though. Nauseous? A little. That empty feeling in the pit of the stomach. Like from before… what the hell was happening? The smell... not right as well. I knew that smell. Oh God. I tried to regain my bearings and looked up from the floor. “Holy…”, I exclaimed as a not-quite clothed woman peered from over the bed at me. Waitaminute. She must have seen the abject horror in my eyes. My pulse quickened. I knew her… of course I knew her, but a long time ago. I thought… quickly. It had been that long ago. She looked so young.
“What the hell's wrong with you? Scare you off, did I?”, she inquired coyly in something of a Southern twang, somewhat amused. “You were just fine a minute ago, more than fine really.” She smiled mischievously at that, implying more than I could handle at the moment, but certainly less than I expected. I tried to say something… anything, but nothing could be formed. I was astonished, partly because of what happened between us. Nothing actually, hence my astonishment. At this moment though, she was in my… a bed, and reached out her hand to me and offered to pull me off the floor. I took that warm hand I had so longed for numerous times and stood, noticing I was a lot lighter than I should have been. I felt healthier too. It hit me.
I was younger. She was younger. But none of this happened, no matter how much I wanted it to. The woman dragged me back into the bed and lay against me, a bit forceful at that. “Now, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
“Um… er…”
“Not a good start.” Her tone flattened, eyes sharpening some.
“Sorry… must have hit my head or something.” I smiled sheepishly, hoping to extricate myself from this line of questioning. I did not know what was wrong, or what was right for that matter. I needed to know, though.
“Usually doesn’t happen to you in the heat of the moment." She grinned again, with the delight of a feline playing with her prey. Oh... I always wanted to be on the receiving end of that look.
“No... I suppose not." That answered one of my questions. We were a lot more than involved. Explained why I was lightheaded and a little calm. But that could be whatever was happening to me. Which was? I tried to think, but she kept looking at me and inched her way closer to my face. I could see the sparkling wonder and passion in her emerald eyes. Her breath…so warm, and she smelled like I remembered I thought she should. That made no sense. Nothing made sense. I felt her lips against mine. I did not care. For some reason, the kiss made sense, as if it were always a part of me. It was cold comfort, but comfort nonetheless.
I awoke in the dark, noticing it would be light soon. She was still asleep, her face buried in my chest and somewhat concealed by her long, auburn, almost red hair. I did not know what to think. My mind was reeling, but I knew… I felt… right, as I did before, as if I was remembering what should be but never was. And the longer I lay in her embrace, the more comfortable I felt. I think I was adjusting somehow. Could that be part of it? If I lingered too long, would my mind simply cease? What of the memories of… um… myself? Where is he… ah… am I? How could I get back? I looked down at her, nuzzled against me. Did I want to get back? I sighed. However wonderful this was, whatever she means to the me now… here… I felt differently. I closed my eyes and waited… for…
snap
Blue-green… skies, no... water!
That sickening feeling again, except it was enhanced by free-fall of… a wave? I felt something strike me in the head as I was thrown against the surf and smashed into the ocean floor, at least it probably was the ocean floor. The stinging in my eyes… yep, salt water. My arm hurt. Did I land on it wrong? Would it matter in a moment? I noticed I was drowning. How ignominious. I tried to surface, but was forced back under. Damn… how big was that wave?! I could feel myself waver, the blackness approaching… something… someone… grabbed me. I did not think. I hurt too much. Just as well. I needed to rest awhile.
I know you are waiting. I see you all. I want to awaken. I long to know you again, to know you for the first time. To forget the pain, to remember. I want to remember…
My cheek felt cool. A hand… brushing against me. Voices… English. Thank goodness for that at least. Odd. A bit of a drawl. I couldn’t quite make it out. No, not Texan. Almost British. Australian. It made perfect sense. I was home. Or at least where I thought home should be, where I always wanted to be. I never kept my promise to return. But I have… in this strange journey I have undertaken. Maybe I died. Sounded too easy. Besides, I hurt too much to be dead. Clichéd, but true. My head felt like something had pounded itself against it. A surfboard, maybe? My right arm was broken, I could definitely feel that. I wanted to open my eyes. I really did, yet the fear was overwhelming. I knew exactly what I would see. Not because I remembered to be so, but because I wanted it to be so. I felt her lips press against my forehead. I opened my eyes. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. All that I had lost returned to me in an instant. I knew this place as if I were born to it. The moment… the moment would last.
Ten years ago, I made a choice to leave her. It was the hardest and worst decision of my life. I had always hoped for another chance. I did not think it could ever be like this. Her smile was warm and tender and she rested her hand against mine… the good one. I sat up, checking my surroundings. As I thought… hospital. I was still a little dizzy, probably a concussion. Felt like a bad hangover, but a bit more kick. I looked to her. She was older than I remembered, but not much. I think I felt older, but it was getting hard to tell. How many times had I really done this? More than I remember? She noticed my puzzlement and asked, “Are you getting another spell? You had quite an experience.”
Her accent… something I always loved about her. I loved everything about her; every gentle curve of her flesh to the unconditional love in her heart. Strangely, she loved everything about me as well. I tried to form words, and this time I was finally capable of speaking.“Fine. More than you know. It’s so good to see you."
She looked amused. “Such a silly Texan. You see me all the time. “
“Never enough for me.” , I smiled sheepishly. She smiled back and kissed my lips gently. It… I could not describe it. Nor did I want to. “So much… I need to say.”
She kept smiling, bemused at my effort. “You hit harder than you thought. “ She leaned closer and whispered lightly in my ear. “You’ve said all you could ever need to say to me. You know that.“. I nodded. “You gave up everything to be with me. “ I continued to nod, thinking how I wished it were true. But in fact it was, and it made me ill.
“How long do I need to stay here?” I asked, trying to change the subject and assess the damage done to me.
“Not long… overnight I think. I’ll stay with you. I don’t have a lecture in the morning, so it’ll be fine.” I nodded again, wondering how far along she was with her degree. I knew, actually. The memories of this… of me, told me. But I knew another place as well. My memory. The woman as I knew her…
In the world I remembered, she did get her degree eventually but we did not speak of it. We drifted apart as long distance lovers often do. It would not last. I pushed away, wanting to wallow in self-pity, not caring for what I had done, nor for her. My life continued in the direction I wanted it to, for good or ill, and I heard nothing from the distant land I wanted to call home. I heard nothing from her, not for some time. We did speak again… had it only been a few months since we spoke? It must have been. She had gotten married, finished her degree and was happy. She had a daughter as I recalled. The conversation was pleasant enough. I apologized for what I had done, but she had forgiven me long ago and did not want to talk of such things. Instead, we chatted idly in the realm of small talk and did not concern ourselves with deeper things. She invited me to see her when I was in Australia next. I chuckled, wondering how long that would be.
“Something wrong?” she asked. Oh… I must have chuckled without saying anything. It happens when I get lost in thought.
“No… just reminiscing.”
“Of what?” she queried.
“Us… “
I looked to her and gazed into her soulful brown eyes. I wanted to stay there in that instant. She could see I wanted to say something. It hurt, but it was what had to be done. Something… deeper was telling me. Time. Fine… “You need to know how much I love you… that I will always love you. “ I stammered it out, trying not to break down. At least I had this… at least in this place, what was meant to be… would be. It was an odd sensation, being drawn away. I saw her… saw the confusion, and in one brief second… understanding.
snap
You must awaken. You must know. I want to be aware. But it must be yours.
Hot! Plate. Almost burned myself. Now this setting was familiar. I knew… almost instantly it seemed. I tried to discern why but I had other matters to attend to, most importantly trying not to burn dinner for a bunch of hungry people. Odd… I never wanted to come back here… of all places. I looked from the kitchen, into the den. They were all sitting around, laughing at some snide comment or joke. All of them. Those I left behind with a purpose. And the one who I felt left me… I heard her coming down the hall. Had I moved in time? Before, it seemed place was more a factor. Was time more an issue now? She stepped in front of me… startling me, batting her icy blue eyes at me in delight, knowing she had gotten the better of me. It was something she liked to do. I smirked and tried to hide my sense of disgust. I left joy and returned to banality. It was not that I did not care… far from it, but the laughter, the words, her movements. A reminder of something all too painful, and too recent.
And yet, something felt out of place. Not quite right. I excused myself quickly and left her with the kitchen details. She simply shrugged and took over. She enjoyed cooking to an extent. I stumbled down the hall and examined the bedrooms. Ours… ours was still there, messy and much like I remembered. Roommates? Yes… one… two… wait. The other girl. I wondered about that and checked what should be this woman’s room. Empty… well, a storage room. I stepped back into the kitchen and casually mentioned our roommate’s name. She looked at me oddly, puzzled in fact. She did not know what I was talking about. I nodded and apologized. I told her I was channeling some other life. Ironically, it was actually true this time.
Her best friend, at least the best friend that I knew of was not here. They never met, or she never existed. Either way, she was not a part of her… our lives. In a way, I was saddened. In another, I was relieved. Things between she and I were always... strained at best. I turned and asked another foolish question I realized I had the answer to. “What year is this?”
She pulled back her long, black hair trying to keep it out of the food while looking at me as if I were lost. “What do you mean by that?”
“Could you answer the question?” I asked. She was getting irritated. Great, I knew what that meant, or did I? She answered, and it did not surprise me. It was almost the present. I began to understand this place. The deviation was slim, but enough to keep us together. Was that the price for our happiness? Her best friend not even a memory. Well, I did not like her that much… but I was feeling guilty at any rate. I did not understand why, especially since I deserved a little happiness. Plenty of people got to be happy at my expense throughout my life, why not me?
“Why not me…” I muttered, just enough for her to hear.
“Why not you what?” she asked, a little concern in her voice. She stepped away from the stove and closer to me.
“I’m not sure you’d understand… really. I don’t myself.”
“We’ve been over this before. You can tell me anything, especially if you are having issues again with… “
“Trust me…that’s not it. “ I interjected quickly. It had nothing to do with our past issues, sort of. “I…”
“What, then?” she asked quietly.
I looked at her and saw… a glimmer of… tomorrow. I saw us, but not us. I kept looking into her and within her soul. The soul I always knew. I saw the person I shared so much with and cared for so long. I felt… awareness as if it was tangible and I could grasp it. I instead grasped her lightly and she looked into me.
“I remember…”
The core of her being remembered with me. All that I had seen, all that I had known, all that I would be was hers. Regardless of the pain we had caused each other, we always had a bond that I could not understand. Was this it? What was she? Time melted into a place without barriers, a world I understood… what I had given up to become.
We could not speak. We did not need to. I simply kissed her good-bye.
snap
My backpack felt light. I felt light. I wandered the cavernous halls of the College, looking for the right room, even though it would be were it should. Still, I did my best to remember only what I needed, lest I be overwhelmed. The students paid me little heed, and some gave me some deference due to my age. In truth, I looked about as young as I did so many years ago when… well, when all that business occurred. In reality, I did not know, nor want to know how old I was. I suppose I could figure it out, but I had better things to do. Classes were starting to let out and I fought through the crowds scurrying to where they needed to be. I smiled, wishing I could impart to them… anything. But what would it change? I laughed aloud at the answer.
305… the lecture letting out. I leaned inside the doorway as the students continued to filter past. I nodded politely to them and they continued on their way. A few stopped to ask questions of the lecturer and she answered to the best of her knowledge. She did not see me, and turned to erase some notes on Chaucer from the board. She struggled a little, but she was getting older. Closer to 50, I thought. Her hair was still black, not dyeing it burgundy anymore it seemed. Did it really matter? The answer, as always, amused me.
“Excuse me, Professor…” I said in my worst impression of my old Texas accent. “Ah’m lookin’ for this here history department in this dang fancy College. “ She paused for a moment, then answered.
“That’s another college. Which history department, anyway?”
“Medieval, of course”, I said in my normal, flat accent. She turned quickly, not really surprised, but pleased.
We stood for a moment, not quite sure what to say. I walked into the lecture hall and reached out to her. We held each other for awhile, and I could feel her tears against my cheek. “I really wondered... if you would ever show. “, she said quietly.
“I know this sounds odd, but I got lost. “
“Oxford is confusing… oh… that kind of lost.”
She laughed, and leaned up to kiss my cheek. I smiled and kissed her back.“Yeah. I’d love to tell you about it after I get settled in. Maybe over some dinner?”
“Sure. Just call my office and we’ll set it up.”, she said. I started to agree, then decided.
“Come to think of it, I’m settled now. Shall we?” I outstretched my hand to her. She took it and we exited the lecture hall, talking of our fantastic days together, nights apart and the times in-between. She asked of my travels and the wonders I had encountered. I considered for a moment, then said, “Better I show you… “
Her eyes widened, and with a grin I…
snap
To be continued in tomorrow's post.
Do you finally understand?
Such a scene overwhelmed my senses, even in their present state. So vibrant, so electric… words, even if they could, did not escape my lips. Transcendent, the only way to begin to describe this event, an event I knew would come to be, just a sure as everyone else who came before me knew. Of course, no one could ever believe there would be a witness. Honestly, I was amazed at that fact. Yet, I stood, well… drifted really, within the mesmerizing show around me. It called to me, just as I called to it. I did not know how, only that it sought something primal within, as if it knew as well I would be here. Could a consciousness exist, even now? Perhaps not a true consciousness, but more of a collective understanding… a knowledge of what was, is, and, well… would be was something of a problem that needed sorting out. Unfortunately, no time remained, or seemed to exist for that matter. I laughed internally and realized that matter itself was about to cease. Fine time for me to think of the ironies of the universe. And the universe… it lay before me, collapsing into entropy. I had read many books, articles and papers on this subject thousands upon thousands of times. Still, the event never could prepare me for the inspiring wonder of it all. I guess if I could conjure an audience I might have written about the event. Since no audience existed, I let the inspiration pass and waited… waited for the last seconds of existence to spectacularly slip away.
Only one thing plagued me in this rather calm (really not near as violent as I thought) end to all that was, er… is… How did I get here?
snap
I knew that sound, should I have even heard one.
I think it is a convention you dreamed up.
That voice… thought. I knew it as well. I let what was left of my consciousness drift to the sound. I could feel an image form in my mind, and though the universe collapsed around me, I managed to be shocked one more time.
Don’t worry… I’m not so much who you think I am.
I thought I was the only one left, the only one who could be here… at this point.
Left? Perhaps you have forgotten… or you still don’t understand.
I tried to contemplate a response, but none would come. Wait. I came here of my own accord. But why? She… yes, she… how? How, anything, really? No, I do not understand, I replied as well as I could.
You will.
Part I: Awareness
You have to remember… or be damned.
snap
I awoke with a start. Voices… dreams. All... a dream. Getting more intense though. Felt horribly real. Still dark. I looked over to the pale light of my alarm clock. Four AM. Typical. About when I have been waking up recently. I would not be able to get back to sleep, that much was certain. No rest for the sleep deprived. Oh… I noticed the book next to me. I must have been reading it, trying to take my mind off school and the paper I had to write. No wonder I was having crazy dreams. 12th Planet. Great read, but a bit out in left field… somewhere near Jupiter.
I sighed, vowing not to read any of Sitchin's books late at night, at least until the next time I did it. Disgusted, I tossed the paperback aside, and got out of bed. Even though it was still early, I turned on my computer and stared for a moment fruitlessly. I wondered if I would ever finish this latest research paper. Finish? Sure. Would it be any good? Well… I glanced at the biography of Richard I sitting by the computer. Interesting enough, but I needed more than a biography to support my conclusions. Something seemed odd about the title. I had not remembered seeing that before…
snap
Was I nodding off? My face felt like it hit the keyboard again? Damn. Never going to finish this paper. Thirty-five pages on the criticism of historiographical methods in Medieval History. I yawned thinking about it. Why wouldn’t they let me just do my research? I had enough to do without the extra... I stood up and shook the cobwebs out of my head. Felt a little… unsettled. Not enough to eat? I looked around at the squalor that was my small apartment. Hmm… leftover fries and a cheeseburger. I sniffed the burger. Still good, so I must have eaten recently. I lazily took a bite, more out of requirement than hunger. Setting the burger back down on the edge of my cluttered desk, I stumbled to the kitchen and peered into the wastes of my refrigerator, hoping not to be attacked by the leftovers before I retrieved a carbonated beverage. I succeeded, barely. What was that yellow mold on the cheese? Ew.
No time, never enough. Had to get this paper done, or I would fail this semester and lose my financial aid. Could not let that happen, for I had worked too hard to get back into school to finish my grad work. Shouldn’t have spent all that time gaming… ah, well. Not completely my fault. I was married to a gamer for a while. I sighed. Look how that turned out. I had been divorced for almost two years and she was still angry over details. Details... I was always lost in hers. Icy blue eyes... long, luxurious black hair that she occasionally dyed burgundy, and the way she moved... ah. Enough. After all that we had been through, I deserved a little anger too. Well, such was the way of things. I tried to move on... and it was working out so well. I took a drink of the soda and was thrilled to have the caffeine soon work its magic and keep me up long enough to finish. I shuffled over to my desk and sat back down, catching a glimpse of myself in the monitor’s reflection. Man, did I look that bad? I shrugged. I did not care. Nor did I want to.
A chill rolled up my spine, that feeling as if something is not quite right, but not quite wrong. It just seemed odd. I could not place it, and continued typing away while deciphering a journal’s bad French to English translation. Then the realization hit me. I was translating a journal from Latin, not French. I would swear by it. I may have been tired, not taken leave of my now rattled senses. I searched the mess that was my desk, my room and throughout my apartment, but to no avail. The journal I knew I was working on had disappeared. And the journal I had in front of me was one I had never seen before… I looked at an article in the journal. An author was examining the research of Richard the Lionheart’s latest biography, calling into question his attack on the Vexin in 1201. I dropped the journal and my heart skipped a beat. Richard I died in 1198 from a gangrenous crossbow wound at Chalus-en-Chabrol. He never attacked the Vexin, but something in the back of my mind told me it was so. As if I were remembering days that never were. But the logical part of my brain screamed what I was remembering was impossible. It had to be. No. Richard lived for ten more years and conquered the remainder of France. I muttered to myself, “C’est imposible!”
I was speaking French. I said some more words. French. I had never been able to speak French this well. English? I tried, but it sounded painful. Arrgh. Middle English. My memory reminded me that English was a dead language as much as Greek. Latin? Almost perfect. I knew the world was not right and I was becoming a part of it. I scanned the flat quickly (flat? Damn.) Everything seemed alright. The televisor was where it was supposed to be, so was the wireless. I looked over at my desk. The computation machine appeared to be in order. Even the Interweb was functioning. I decided to turn on the televisor to check the programmes. Five stations? Wait, it was a Sunday. New Bretigny United would be playing... but, what happened to the Cow...
snap
Thump!
“Ow… dammit!”, I yelped as I hit a hardwood floor. Hey, that was in English; however, I distinctly recalled my apartment not having hardwood floors. I was groggy, a bit calm, though. Nauseous? A little. That empty feeling in the pit of the stomach. Like from before… what the hell was happening? The smell... not right as well. I knew that smell. Oh God. I tried to regain my bearings and looked up from the floor. “Holy…”, I exclaimed as a not-quite clothed woman peered from over the bed at me. Waitaminute. She must have seen the abject horror in my eyes. My pulse quickened. I knew her… of course I knew her, but a long time ago. I thought… quickly. It had been that long ago. She looked so young.
“What the hell's wrong with you? Scare you off, did I?”, she inquired coyly in something of a Southern twang, somewhat amused. “You were just fine a minute ago, more than fine really.” She smiled mischievously at that, implying more than I could handle at the moment, but certainly less than I expected. I tried to say something… anything, but nothing could be formed. I was astonished, partly because of what happened between us. Nothing actually, hence my astonishment. At this moment though, she was in my… a bed, and reached out her hand to me and offered to pull me off the floor. I took that warm hand I had so longed for numerous times and stood, noticing I was a lot lighter than I should have been. I felt healthier too. It hit me.
I was younger. She was younger. But none of this happened, no matter how much I wanted it to. The woman dragged me back into the bed and lay against me, a bit forceful at that. “Now, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
“Um… er…”
“Not a good start.” Her tone flattened, eyes sharpening some.
“Sorry… must have hit my head or something.” I smiled sheepishly, hoping to extricate myself from this line of questioning. I did not know what was wrong, or what was right for that matter. I needed to know, though.
“Usually doesn’t happen to you in the heat of the moment." She grinned again, with the delight of a feline playing with her prey. Oh... I always wanted to be on the receiving end of that look.
“No... I suppose not." That answered one of my questions. We were a lot more than involved. Explained why I was lightheaded and a little calm. But that could be whatever was happening to me. Which was? I tried to think, but she kept looking at me and inched her way closer to my face. I could see the sparkling wonder and passion in her emerald eyes. Her breath…so warm, and she smelled like I remembered I thought she should. That made no sense. Nothing made sense. I felt her lips against mine. I did not care. For some reason, the kiss made sense, as if it were always a part of me. It was cold comfort, but comfort nonetheless.
I awoke in the dark, noticing it would be light soon. She was still asleep, her face buried in my chest and somewhat concealed by her long, auburn, almost red hair. I did not know what to think. My mind was reeling, but I knew… I felt… right, as I did before, as if I was remembering what should be but never was. And the longer I lay in her embrace, the more comfortable I felt. I think I was adjusting somehow. Could that be part of it? If I lingered too long, would my mind simply cease? What of the memories of… um… myself? Where is he… ah… am I? How could I get back? I looked down at her, nuzzled against me. Did I want to get back? I sighed. However wonderful this was, whatever she means to the me now… here… I felt differently. I closed my eyes and waited… for…
snap
Blue-green… skies, no... water!
That sickening feeling again, except it was enhanced by free-fall of… a wave? I felt something strike me in the head as I was thrown against the surf and smashed into the ocean floor, at least it probably was the ocean floor. The stinging in my eyes… yep, salt water. My arm hurt. Did I land on it wrong? Would it matter in a moment? I noticed I was drowning. How ignominious. I tried to surface, but was forced back under. Damn… how big was that wave?! I could feel myself waver, the blackness approaching… something… someone… grabbed me. I did not think. I hurt too much. Just as well. I needed to rest awhile.
I know you are waiting. I see you all. I want to awaken. I long to know you again, to know you for the first time. To forget the pain, to remember. I want to remember…
My cheek felt cool. A hand… brushing against me. Voices… English. Thank goodness for that at least. Odd. A bit of a drawl. I couldn’t quite make it out. No, not Texan. Almost British. Australian. It made perfect sense. I was home. Or at least where I thought home should be, where I always wanted to be. I never kept my promise to return. But I have… in this strange journey I have undertaken. Maybe I died. Sounded too easy. Besides, I hurt too much to be dead. Clichéd, but true. My head felt like something had pounded itself against it. A surfboard, maybe? My right arm was broken, I could definitely feel that. I wanted to open my eyes. I really did, yet the fear was overwhelming. I knew exactly what I would see. Not because I remembered to be so, but because I wanted it to be so. I felt her lips press against my forehead. I opened my eyes. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. All that I had lost returned to me in an instant. I knew this place as if I were born to it. The moment… the moment would last.
Ten years ago, I made a choice to leave her. It was the hardest and worst decision of my life. I had always hoped for another chance. I did not think it could ever be like this. Her smile was warm and tender and she rested her hand against mine… the good one. I sat up, checking my surroundings. As I thought… hospital. I was still a little dizzy, probably a concussion. Felt like a bad hangover, but a bit more kick. I looked to her. She was older than I remembered, but not much. I think I felt older, but it was getting hard to tell. How many times had I really done this? More than I remember? She noticed my puzzlement and asked, “Are you getting another spell? You had quite an experience.”
Her accent… something I always loved about her. I loved everything about her; every gentle curve of her flesh to the unconditional love in her heart. Strangely, she loved everything about me as well. I tried to form words, and this time I was finally capable of speaking.“Fine. More than you know. It’s so good to see you."
She looked amused. “Such a silly Texan. You see me all the time. “
“Never enough for me.” , I smiled sheepishly. She smiled back and kissed my lips gently. It… I could not describe it. Nor did I want to. “So much… I need to say.”
She kept smiling, bemused at my effort. “You hit harder than you thought. “ She leaned closer and whispered lightly in my ear. “You’ve said all you could ever need to say to me. You know that.“. I nodded. “You gave up everything to be with me. “ I continued to nod, thinking how I wished it were true. But in fact it was, and it made me ill.
“How long do I need to stay here?” I asked, trying to change the subject and assess the damage done to me.
“Not long… overnight I think. I’ll stay with you. I don’t have a lecture in the morning, so it’ll be fine.” I nodded again, wondering how far along she was with her degree. I knew, actually. The memories of this… of me, told me. But I knew another place as well. My memory. The woman as I knew her…
In the world I remembered, she did get her degree eventually but we did not speak of it. We drifted apart as long distance lovers often do. It would not last. I pushed away, wanting to wallow in self-pity, not caring for what I had done, nor for her. My life continued in the direction I wanted it to, for good or ill, and I heard nothing from the distant land I wanted to call home. I heard nothing from her, not for some time. We did speak again… had it only been a few months since we spoke? It must have been. She had gotten married, finished her degree and was happy. She had a daughter as I recalled. The conversation was pleasant enough. I apologized for what I had done, but she had forgiven me long ago and did not want to talk of such things. Instead, we chatted idly in the realm of small talk and did not concern ourselves with deeper things. She invited me to see her when I was in Australia next. I chuckled, wondering how long that would be.
“Something wrong?” she asked. Oh… I must have chuckled without saying anything. It happens when I get lost in thought.
“No… just reminiscing.”
“Of what?” she queried.
“Us… “
I looked to her and gazed into her soulful brown eyes. I wanted to stay there in that instant. She could see I wanted to say something. It hurt, but it was what had to be done. Something… deeper was telling me. Time. Fine… “You need to know how much I love you… that I will always love you. “ I stammered it out, trying not to break down. At least I had this… at least in this place, what was meant to be… would be. It was an odd sensation, being drawn away. I saw her… saw the confusion, and in one brief second… understanding.
snap
You must awaken. You must know. I want to be aware. But it must be yours.
Hot! Plate. Almost burned myself. Now this setting was familiar. I knew… almost instantly it seemed. I tried to discern why but I had other matters to attend to, most importantly trying not to burn dinner for a bunch of hungry people. Odd… I never wanted to come back here… of all places. I looked from the kitchen, into the den. They were all sitting around, laughing at some snide comment or joke. All of them. Those I left behind with a purpose. And the one who I felt left me… I heard her coming down the hall. Had I moved in time? Before, it seemed place was more a factor. Was time more an issue now? She stepped in front of me… startling me, batting her icy blue eyes at me in delight, knowing she had gotten the better of me. It was something she liked to do. I smirked and tried to hide my sense of disgust. I left joy and returned to banality. It was not that I did not care… far from it, but the laughter, the words, her movements. A reminder of something all too painful, and too recent.
And yet, something felt out of place. Not quite right. I excused myself quickly and left her with the kitchen details. She simply shrugged and took over. She enjoyed cooking to an extent. I stumbled down the hall and examined the bedrooms. Ours… ours was still there, messy and much like I remembered. Roommates? Yes… one… two… wait. The other girl. I wondered about that and checked what should be this woman’s room. Empty… well, a storage room. I stepped back into the kitchen and casually mentioned our roommate’s name. She looked at me oddly, puzzled in fact. She did not know what I was talking about. I nodded and apologized. I told her I was channeling some other life. Ironically, it was actually true this time.
Her best friend, at least the best friend that I knew of was not here. They never met, or she never existed. Either way, she was not a part of her… our lives. In a way, I was saddened. In another, I was relieved. Things between she and I were always... strained at best. I turned and asked another foolish question I realized I had the answer to. “What year is this?”
She pulled back her long, black hair trying to keep it out of the food while looking at me as if I were lost. “What do you mean by that?”
“Could you answer the question?” I asked. She was getting irritated. Great, I knew what that meant, or did I? She answered, and it did not surprise me. It was almost the present. I began to understand this place. The deviation was slim, but enough to keep us together. Was that the price for our happiness? Her best friend not even a memory. Well, I did not like her that much… but I was feeling guilty at any rate. I did not understand why, especially since I deserved a little happiness. Plenty of people got to be happy at my expense throughout my life, why not me?
“Why not me…” I muttered, just enough for her to hear.
“Why not you what?” she asked, a little concern in her voice. She stepped away from the stove and closer to me.
“I’m not sure you’d understand… really. I don’t myself.”
“We’ve been over this before. You can tell me anything, especially if you are having issues again with… “
“Trust me…that’s not it. “ I interjected quickly. It had nothing to do with our past issues, sort of. “I…”
“What, then?” she asked quietly.
I looked at her and saw… a glimmer of… tomorrow. I saw us, but not us. I kept looking into her and within her soul. The soul I always knew. I saw the person I shared so much with and cared for so long. I felt… awareness as if it was tangible and I could grasp it. I instead grasped her lightly and she looked into me.
“I remember…”
The core of her being remembered with me. All that I had seen, all that I had known, all that I would be was hers. Regardless of the pain we had caused each other, we always had a bond that I could not understand. Was this it? What was she? Time melted into a place without barriers, a world I understood… what I had given up to become.
We could not speak. We did not need to. I simply kissed her good-bye.
snap
My backpack felt light. I felt light. I wandered the cavernous halls of the College, looking for the right room, even though it would be were it should. Still, I did my best to remember only what I needed, lest I be overwhelmed. The students paid me little heed, and some gave me some deference due to my age. In truth, I looked about as young as I did so many years ago when… well, when all that business occurred. In reality, I did not know, nor want to know how old I was. I suppose I could figure it out, but I had better things to do. Classes were starting to let out and I fought through the crowds scurrying to where they needed to be. I smiled, wishing I could impart to them… anything. But what would it change? I laughed aloud at the answer.
305… the lecture letting out. I leaned inside the doorway as the students continued to filter past. I nodded politely to them and they continued on their way. A few stopped to ask questions of the lecturer and she answered to the best of her knowledge. She did not see me, and turned to erase some notes on Chaucer from the board. She struggled a little, but she was getting older. Closer to 50, I thought. Her hair was still black, not dyeing it burgundy anymore it seemed. Did it really matter? The answer, as always, amused me.
“Excuse me, Professor…” I said in my worst impression of my old Texas accent. “Ah’m lookin’ for this here history department in this dang fancy College. “ She paused for a moment, then answered.
“That’s another college. Which history department, anyway?”
“Medieval, of course”, I said in my normal, flat accent. She turned quickly, not really surprised, but pleased.
We stood for a moment, not quite sure what to say. I walked into the lecture hall and reached out to her. We held each other for awhile, and I could feel her tears against my cheek. “I really wondered... if you would ever show. “, she said quietly.
“I know this sounds odd, but I got lost. “
“Oxford is confusing… oh… that kind of lost.”
She laughed, and leaned up to kiss my cheek. I smiled and kissed her back.“Yeah. I’d love to tell you about it after I get settled in. Maybe over some dinner?”
“Sure. Just call my office and we’ll set it up.”, she said. I started to agree, then decided.
“Come to think of it, I’m settled now. Shall we?” I outstretched my hand to her. She took it and we exited the lecture hall, talking of our fantastic days together, nights apart and the times in-between. She asked of my travels and the wonders I had encountered. I considered for a moment, then said, “Better I show you… “
Her eyes widened, and with a grin I…
snap
To be continued in tomorrow's post.
C.
Introduction to Alternate Lives
I decided to post this brief introduction to the story that will follow in two parts. I am breaking it up because it naturally follows the format, and it is rather long. Originally, I did not want to post it because of the length, but after posting 'Oblivion', and the fact I have mentioned this to others on more than one occasion, I have decided to go ahead and post it. I am probably going to reduce the font a little, so I can save some space.
One other thing I forgot to mention. Originally, the story was only the first part (the next post) minus the prologue, but due to the nature of alternate lives and realities, I came up with an alternate ending, hence part II. The story, on its own I think stands well without part II, but I like the philosophical questions that I ask in the culmination of the story and is tuly, a metaphor for my own journey through the realms of idealism, romance, pragmatism, regret, and acceptance.
Do enjoy and thanks in advance for reading,
C.
One other thing I forgot to mention. Originally, the story was only the first part (the next post) minus the prologue, but due to the nature of alternate lives and realities, I came up with an alternate ending, hence part II. The story, on its own I think stands well without part II, but I like the philosophical questions that I ask in the culmination of the story and is tuly, a metaphor for my own journey through the realms of idealism, romance, pragmatism, regret, and acceptance.
Do enjoy and thanks in advance for reading,
C.
16 January 2007
Oblivion
For all the mean game I talk about writing, I have not posted anything (fictional at least) other than my poems. Admittedly, scripts would be difficult to post as would my longer stories, unless I broke them up (which is certainly a possibility in the future). But for today, I leave you with a short-short piece of fan fiction from my favorite sci-fi show (and my only piece of fan fiction), Babylon 5. For those that know the story, it is pretty obvious where and when it takes place, and is sort of a combined perspective from the episode and one of the novels (The Technomage Trilogy). It is a little more internalised, which is harder to get in TV and certainly a departure from what I have normally written. For those that do not know the story, I admit it really does not stand on its own as it takes a fragment of the end of the third season episode 'Z'Ha'Dum' and expands upon it, if one calls something this short expansion :)
'Oblivion'
He finally understood…
If you go to Z’Ha’Dum, you will die.
John knew the price, standing above the chasm, the Enemy behind him, calling his name. The Enemy, his wife, but not his wife. A monster, pulled from one of those Ships… a shell of the woman she was. They told her what to say, and the lie was almost convincing… almost. The Enemy closed around him, behind her, their glowing eyes, yearning for him to join them. Join… the Shadows. They asked him to turn his back on everything. His family, friends, his duty, her… the woman that Anna was, and the one, now… racing in his mind. He only wanted to be with her, but that would not be. They would kill him, and Kosh, as usual, would be right.
Damn them… If I’m going to die, then you bastards are going to hell with me.
He sent the signal…
It would be over in a moment, not that the Shadows would know. Not that he would feel. An instant of destruction, and the war… would it end? What would his sacrifice be worth? Enough to save Babylon 5? Surely the Shadows and their terrible vessels would be poised to strike, for John refused to join the Enemy. They would destroy the station and all he held dear. At least the Enemy would feel this sting.
They continued to close on him, though one of the creatures had stopped, occupied for some reason. Then it fell, and John could not understand why. He thought he saw a.... no, it did not matter. He saw her face, smiling, but her countenance betraying the control of her masters. She would kill him herself if she could. He knew he could stop her, but no matter what she had become, John could never kill Anna. He glanced skyward. At least... not face to face.
Any second now.
Another Shadow fell from behind Anna. Again, he thought he should have been confused, his tactician’s brain telling him something… someone else was at work. Unfortunately, his human instinct told him the end would soon render the thought moot.
He turned away from her and stared into the abyss…
Jump…
What… that voice. Piercing into his soul, but from where? How? Impossible. He had held the remnants of the encounter suit in his hands, even spoken to him before he passed. Kosh perished so that the fledgling Alliance would survive, ordering a strike against the Shadows at the cost of his own life.
He glanced into the darkness. It tore at him, but called to him somehow. Still, he was afraid. She advanced toward him, begging him to reconsider. He tried to blot her voice out, but he had loved her so. No, not her. A monster, created by them… the Enemy. His link beeped. The White Star was coming.
Jump… Now!
He jumped…
John felt the voice leap at him, literally drawing him over the ledge and into the darkness. Anna’s voice faded, and he said his final goodbyes. The chasm looked like it would not end, and continued to speak to him, in His voice somehow. Above, the world sounded as if it shattered. Screams… no. The White Star… its engines howling, preparing to unleash the thermonuclear fury contained within. Though fear encircled him, John forced a smile. He almost wanted to see it happen, but imagining was enough, and the reality would consume him all too soon.
Or would it?
He welcomed the abyss…
The voice fell silent. Only the darkness remained. He could not even hear what he thought he might. He must have been too close, destroyed in an instant. Or was he? Images raced through his mind… images of yesterday, the present, tomorrow… even if tomorrow would not be. He saw her… all that he knew, could hold on to, in the descent into the beyond.
Delenn…
Oblivion claimed John in the abyss beneath Z’Ha’Dum.
C.
'Oblivion'
He finally understood…
If you go to Z’Ha’Dum, you will die.
John knew the price, standing above the chasm, the Enemy behind him, calling his name. The Enemy, his wife, but not his wife. A monster, pulled from one of those Ships… a shell of the woman she was. They told her what to say, and the lie was almost convincing… almost. The Enemy closed around him, behind her, their glowing eyes, yearning for him to join them. Join… the Shadows. They asked him to turn his back on everything. His family, friends, his duty, her… the woman that Anna was, and the one, now… racing in his mind. He only wanted to be with her, but that would not be. They would kill him, and Kosh, as usual, would be right.
Damn them… If I’m going to die, then you bastards are going to hell with me.
He sent the signal…
It would be over in a moment, not that the Shadows would know. Not that he would feel. An instant of destruction, and the war… would it end? What would his sacrifice be worth? Enough to save Babylon 5? Surely the Shadows and their terrible vessels would be poised to strike, for John refused to join the Enemy. They would destroy the station and all he held dear. At least the Enemy would feel this sting.
They continued to close on him, though one of the creatures had stopped, occupied for some reason. Then it fell, and John could not understand why. He thought he saw a.... no, it did not matter. He saw her face, smiling, but her countenance betraying the control of her masters. She would kill him herself if she could. He knew he could stop her, but no matter what she had become, John could never kill Anna. He glanced skyward. At least... not face to face.
Any second now.
Another Shadow fell from behind Anna. Again, he thought he should have been confused, his tactician’s brain telling him something… someone else was at work. Unfortunately, his human instinct told him the end would soon render the thought moot.
He turned away from her and stared into the abyss…
Jump…
What… that voice. Piercing into his soul, but from where? How? Impossible. He had held the remnants of the encounter suit in his hands, even spoken to him before he passed. Kosh perished so that the fledgling Alliance would survive, ordering a strike against the Shadows at the cost of his own life.
He glanced into the darkness. It tore at him, but called to him somehow. Still, he was afraid. She advanced toward him, begging him to reconsider. He tried to blot her voice out, but he had loved her so. No, not her. A monster, created by them… the Enemy. His link beeped. The White Star was coming.
Jump… Now!
He jumped…
John felt the voice leap at him, literally drawing him over the ledge and into the darkness. Anna’s voice faded, and he said his final goodbyes. The chasm looked like it would not end, and continued to speak to him, in His voice somehow. Above, the world sounded as if it shattered. Screams… no. The White Star… its engines howling, preparing to unleash the thermonuclear fury contained within. Though fear encircled him, John forced a smile. He almost wanted to see it happen, but imagining was enough, and the reality would consume him all too soon.
Or would it?
He welcomed the abyss…
The voice fell silent. Only the darkness remained. He could not even hear what he thought he might. He must have been too close, destroyed in an instant. Or was he? Images raced through his mind… images of yesterday, the present, tomorrow… even if tomorrow would not be. He saw her… all that he knew, could hold on to, in the descent into the beyond.
Delenn…
Oblivion claimed John in the abyss beneath Z’Ha’Dum.
C.
15 January 2007
The Female Soul
Continuing my thoughts on relationships and people gone, though many of those thoughts are in older posts, I am keenly interested in the concept of the soul and how it connects us in whatever capacity we want it to be. In the case of the following poem, I wrote it as a response to another(and in response to a particular format), but I think it certainly stands on its own, and is effectively my take on what a relationship might and could be.
'The Female Soul'
My soul, borne of starlight,
Reaching toward a moment,
Sensing your heart.
My heart, gentle in spirit,
Giving though burdened,
Needing your touch.
Your dreams, tender yet yearning,
Soothing a turbulent mind,
Freeing my heart.
Your heart, enfolding and warm,
Loving even in discontent,
Nurturing my soul.
C.
'The Female Soul'
My soul, borne of starlight,
Reaching toward a moment,
Sensing your heart.
My heart, gentle in spirit,
Giving though burdened,
Needing your touch.
Your dreams, tender yet yearning,
Soothing a turbulent mind,
Freeing my heart.
Your heart, enfolding and warm,
Loving even in discontent,
Nurturing my soul.
C.
13 January 2007
A Small Beach Outside Of Sydney
The following is one of my oldest poems I am alright with sharing with others, written not long after I got home from Sydney the first time in 1992. I had been meaning to add it anyways, but other entries and other details simply got in the way. Another entry of mine touched on this earlier, but dealt with a person revisiting the issue with hindsight. This poem still feels raw, more in the present than anything.
Oh, for any Aussies or those familiar with Sydney, the beach mentioned is actually Queenscliff, but I've visited the majority of the ocean beaches, and I am quite fond of all of them.
'That Small Beach Outside of Sydney'
Do you remember that small beach outside of Sydney?
Walking where waves caressed the fine sand.
We laughed and passed away our cares
Just to the North, toward the Broken Bay,
I know it was that small beach outside of Sydney.
We sat... watching the sun rise
Feeling the warmth course into our hearts.
I was happy, lying in the morning sun
Holding you in my arms, never wanting to let you go.
I did, though.
We did.
It was for the best we both agree;
Our lives taking different paths.
We said goodbye on that small beach outside
Of Sydney.
On the plane,
I watched the skyline melt into the sea.
I focused on a small piece of earth,
Just to the North, toward the Broken Bay...
Outside of Sydney.
C.
Oh, for any Aussies or those familiar with Sydney, the beach mentioned is actually Queenscliff, but I've visited the majority of the ocean beaches, and I am quite fond of all of them.
'That Small Beach Outside of Sydney'
Do you remember that small beach outside of Sydney?
Walking where waves caressed the fine sand.
We laughed and passed away our cares
Just to the North, toward the Broken Bay,
I know it was that small beach outside of Sydney.
We sat... watching the sun rise
Feeling the warmth course into our hearts.
I was happy, lying in the morning sun
Holding you in my arms, never wanting to let you go.
I did, though.
We did.
It was for the best we both agree;
Our lives taking different paths.
We said goodbye on that small beach outside
Of Sydney.
On the plane,
I watched the skyline melt into the sea.
I focused on a small piece of earth,
Just to the North, toward the Broken Bay...
Outside of Sydney.
C.
12 January 2007
Belvoir St. Typecasting Blues
It is possible and probable I have mentioned some of my theatre experiences, limited though they may have been. I was thinking about them the other day, and rather bore everyone with a long, detailed post of all the things I have done, I figured I would impart some bullet point wisdom of my experiences in condensed form. But first, a tiny bit of background. Most of my work occurred from 1990-1998 and not all years then and I have worn pretty much every hat in the business except costume designer and make up (though I can do my own make-up, pretty easy for men). Mainly, my background is in acting, directing, writing and producing. I have written a couple of one-act plays, though I have lost my favorite one and need to write it again some day (a then homage now tribute to Douglas Adams and other science fiction writers), but never actually directed them. Strangely, my writing includes dramatic criticism and I won an award for it at a festival I originally was not going to attend. Even though I have not been in a production in several years, I would like to revisit the stage in some capacity, simply for the enjoyment. And I think, if finances ever suited, I would like to open my own theatre someday as well. As for the rest, I offer what few pearls of wisdom I can and perhaps a few anecdotes from those strange and enjoyable days.
1) You never know when you might be working with a future Academy Award winner: In 1992, while at the University of New South Wales, I managed an internship at the Belvoir St. Theatre in Sydney. I had already done one production that fall (more on that later) and was attempting another that wound up falling through, and was rather keen on seeing what this production was all about. It was an adaptation of Aristophanes' Frogs that was written in Aussie vernacular. Basically, my job boiled down to doing whatever the production company wanted me to do and I pretty much learned a great deal than I had ever known about lighting, sound, set design, stage management, rehearsals and blocking in those 9 weeks. As it turned out, the cast was delightful, and far more professional than my experiences in theatre had led me to believe. During rehearsals, when I was not assisting in manual labor (like building the set, putting up lights, etc), I got to know some of the cast, and of course the director, Geoffrey, who wound up winning an Oscar for his performance in Shine, and has been brilliant in most everything I've seen him in. Oh, also in Frogs was a young woman named Toni, who became known for her role in The Sixth Sense and, more recently, Little Miss Sunshine.
2) You never know when your real accent will be considered a poor imitation of said accent: While it is true I have a very flat accent for an American, and therefore non-existent as a Texan (which has helped at times overseas), I should hardly think I sound like I am trying to put on an American accent, especially when I was using my normal speaking voice. Admittedly, some have mistaken me for a Canadian or Californian, but I would have thought my continuous use of y'all in conversation would at least give away something. In any event, I was in another Greek play when I was in Australia so many moons ago, and we were doing the less humorous Medea, and I had the part of the tutor of Medea's sons. From a historical point of view, my accent should have fit since in Greek times, many foreigners were used as tutors of nobility. However, one of the musicians relayed to me at the wrap party that a friend of his, in a very authoritative way, complained that my American accent was so fake. The musician then replied 'Really? That's so funny to know, considering he's from Dallas'. Needless to say, the lad's smugness dissolved faster than a slug in the Dead Sea.
3) Injuries and emergencies: You never know... Sometimes an injury or emergency surgery can change a performance, lose you a part, or force some serious improvisation. In my case, I have been the beneficiary of all three, if one can call it that. During the casting for a musical called Little Me (made famous for Sid Ceasar's performance as all the main male parts), I suffered through an emergency surgery (the details are not important except for the fact it was exceedingly painful) that forced me to miss the end of the auditions, although I had read well for one particular part that I had expected to get.(so well that almost the entire cast, even the guy who eventually got the part agreed I was best for it) I failed to call in the next day for class and the final auditions (silly me, I was unconscious from the pain), so the director/professor gave the part to someone else, who was a better singer no doubt. In the end, I wound up with multiple 'accented' parts (meaning I did something like 6 accents in the play, sort of a running gag), which to me, turned out to be more fun in the end.
When doing Romeo and Juliet, my best friend had the parts of Romeo and Mercutio on alternating nights, and I was playing Balthasar, his faithful manservant, so Ihad more dialogue with him than any other person I was involved with, including an important scene in the last act. During the third act one night, just after Romeo kills Tybalt, Benvolio is supposed to rush him off stage. In a fit of adrenaline, the Benvolio pushed a little too hard causing Adam to severely sprain his knee (he later found he had a slight ACL tear I think). Thankfully, we had an intermission, but he was in excruciating pain during the rest of the performance, shortening the play considerably. In the early fifth act, about all he could say was 'I defy you stars!' negating any pertinent information I was supposed to tell him... I will tell you improving iambic pentameter is rough. He gutted it out and finished the run, though we had to modify his fight scenes some due to his knee.
4) You never know when you have to direct a play that has already been cast: 'Grease: You're the One that I Want' notwithstanding, in theatre, the director makes all the casting decisions (unlike say, film). However, I had just finished one play and was requested to direct another at the behest of the writer of the play I had just directed. The problem the play was already cast and I had to begin immediately (I had not quite 5 weeks of rehearsal). Being masochistic back then (1998), I agreed and embarked on one of my more bizarre theatrical experiences. First off, the cast was not quite what I wanted, but I had no choice, since I was lucky that the whole play was cast. It had 15 parts (and all 15 had to be on stage at once) I think, and that was immense for a one-act. So, I did the best I could, but with all the school schedule conflicts and such, the only time we could rehearse was after 10pm at night, and I even had to deal with conflicts on the day of dress rehearsals (so I turned our tech into a full dress to help those who had to miss), and since the conflicts were school conflicts, I had to deal with it. Secondly, the staging was tricky because it was set in a high school classroom and I was in a thrust stage, therefore someone was always going to have their back to the audience. Thankfully, I was able to minimize it, and the play turned out pretty well... in fact, had a full house both nights. I admit, I was pretty proud of the show all things considered.
5) Finally, I think Stage Combat Instructors are jealous of Fencers: In stage combat, the object is to make a deadly art look flashy. In fencing, the idea is to 'kill' your opponent. Needless to say, Stage Combat people don't care for fencers that much, mostly because it is tricky to unlearn your footwork. Either way, I am sure it is jealousy :)
That should cover the high(and low)lights of a sort, and I am still fond of the experiences. Maybe I will return to the stage in some respect one day.
C.
1) You never know when you might be working with a future Academy Award winner: In 1992, while at the University of New South Wales, I managed an internship at the Belvoir St. Theatre in Sydney. I had already done one production that fall (more on that later) and was attempting another that wound up falling through, and was rather keen on seeing what this production was all about. It was an adaptation of Aristophanes' Frogs that was written in Aussie vernacular. Basically, my job boiled down to doing whatever the production company wanted me to do and I pretty much learned a great deal than I had ever known about lighting, sound, set design, stage management, rehearsals and blocking in those 9 weeks. As it turned out, the cast was delightful, and far more professional than my experiences in theatre had led me to believe. During rehearsals, when I was not assisting in manual labor (like building the set, putting up lights, etc), I got to know some of the cast, and of course the director, Geoffrey, who wound up winning an Oscar for his performance in Shine, and has been brilliant in most everything I've seen him in. Oh, also in Frogs was a young woman named Toni, who became known for her role in The Sixth Sense and, more recently, Little Miss Sunshine.
2) You never know when your real accent will be considered a poor imitation of said accent: While it is true I have a very flat accent for an American, and therefore non-existent as a Texan (which has helped at times overseas), I should hardly think I sound like I am trying to put on an American accent, especially when I was using my normal speaking voice. Admittedly, some have mistaken me for a Canadian or Californian, but I would have thought my continuous use of y'all in conversation would at least give away something. In any event, I was in another Greek play when I was in Australia so many moons ago, and we were doing the less humorous Medea, and I had the part of the tutor of Medea's sons. From a historical point of view, my accent should have fit since in Greek times, many foreigners were used as tutors of nobility. However, one of the musicians relayed to me at the wrap party that a friend of his, in a very authoritative way, complained that my American accent was so fake. The musician then replied 'Really? That's so funny to know, considering he's from Dallas'. Needless to say, the lad's smugness dissolved faster than a slug in the Dead Sea.
3) Injuries and emergencies: You never know... Sometimes an injury or emergency surgery can change a performance, lose you a part, or force some serious improvisation. In my case, I have been the beneficiary of all three, if one can call it that. During the casting for a musical called Little Me (made famous for Sid Ceasar's performance as all the main male parts), I suffered through an emergency surgery (the details are not important except for the fact it was exceedingly painful) that forced me to miss the end of the auditions, although I had read well for one particular part that I had expected to get.(so well that almost the entire cast, even the guy who eventually got the part agreed I was best for it) I failed to call in the next day for class and the final auditions (silly me, I was unconscious from the pain), so the director/professor gave the part to someone else, who was a better singer no doubt. In the end, I wound up with multiple 'accented' parts (meaning I did something like 6 accents in the play, sort of a running gag), which to me, turned out to be more fun in the end.
When doing Romeo and Juliet, my best friend had the parts of Romeo and Mercutio on alternating nights, and I was playing Balthasar, his faithful manservant, so Ihad more dialogue with him than any other person I was involved with, including an important scene in the last act. During the third act one night, just after Romeo kills Tybalt, Benvolio is supposed to rush him off stage. In a fit of adrenaline, the Benvolio pushed a little too hard causing Adam to severely sprain his knee (he later found he had a slight ACL tear I think). Thankfully, we had an intermission, but he was in excruciating pain during the rest of the performance, shortening the play considerably. In the early fifth act, about all he could say was 'I defy you stars!' negating any pertinent information I was supposed to tell him... I will tell you improving iambic pentameter is rough. He gutted it out and finished the run, though we had to modify his fight scenes some due to his knee.
4) You never know when you have to direct a play that has already been cast: 'Grease: You're the One that I Want' notwithstanding, in theatre, the director makes all the casting decisions (unlike say, film). However, I had just finished one play and was requested to direct another at the behest of the writer of the play I had just directed. The problem the play was already cast and I had to begin immediately (I had not quite 5 weeks of rehearsal). Being masochistic back then (1998), I agreed and embarked on one of my more bizarre theatrical experiences. First off, the cast was not quite what I wanted, but I had no choice, since I was lucky that the whole play was cast. It had 15 parts (and all 15 had to be on stage at once) I think, and that was immense for a one-act. So, I did the best I could, but with all the school schedule conflicts and such, the only time we could rehearse was after 10pm at night, and I even had to deal with conflicts on the day of dress rehearsals (so I turned our tech into a full dress to help those who had to miss), and since the conflicts were school conflicts, I had to deal with it. Secondly, the staging was tricky because it was set in a high school classroom and I was in a thrust stage, therefore someone was always going to have their back to the audience. Thankfully, I was able to minimize it, and the play turned out pretty well... in fact, had a full house both nights. I admit, I was pretty proud of the show all things considered.
5) Finally, I think Stage Combat Instructors are jealous of Fencers: In stage combat, the object is to make a deadly art look flashy. In fencing, the idea is to 'kill' your opponent. Needless to say, Stage Combat people don't care for fencers that much, mostly because it is tricky to unlearn your footwork. Either way, I am sure it is jealousy :)
That should cover the high(and low)lights of a sort, and I am still fond of the experiences. Maybe I will return to the stage in some respect one day.
C.
11 January 2007
Thursday Thirteen 3 or 4
This is either my third or fourth Thursday Thirteen. I am not sure, so I will simply be vague. As most of my habitual readers know (and we know who you are... hello?), I am quite the fan of an increasingly obscure science fiction tv show called Babylon 5. It came out in the mid '90's and still has a strong fan base, but it is now being overwhelmed by newer shows that a) have been on so long that you have to mention them (Stargate and its derivatives... used to be Trek and its derivatives, but no more 'Enterprise') or b) just really good (Battlestar Galactica and the departed Farscape). Still, much of the plot cohesion you might see in these shows (BSG in particular) is a tribute to B5 and its writing, which to me, is still the best written sci fi show out there. And the show has had some great writers from J. Michael Straczynski, the series creator and main writer, to such fine guest writers as Neil Gaiman, Harlan Ellison, DC Fontana, and Peter David. Because of such great writing, naturally, a lot of good quotations are the result... some philosophical, some funny, and other poignant. In any event, here are 13 of my favorite Babylon 5 quotations.
1) 'The avalanche has already begun. It is too late for the pebbles to vote.' -- Kosh. My all time favorite and one of those enigmatically cryptic ones that lets you know how powerless you can be sometimes to the gears of history.
2) 'We know... The true secrets, the important things. Fourteen words to make someone fall in love with you forever. Seven words to make them go without pain, or to say goodbye to a friend who is dying. How to be poor, how to be rich, how to rediscover dreams the world has stolen from you.' -- Elric. I mentioned this one a few posts ago regarding the also enigmatic Technomages. I think the quote says it all about what they are.
3) 'We're all born as molecules in the hearts of a billion stars, molecules that do not understand politics, policies and differences. In a billion years we, foolish molecules forget who we are and where we came from. Through desperate acts of ego, we give ourselves names, fight over lines on maps, and pretend our light is better than everyone else's. The flame reminds us of the piece of those stars that live inside us. A spark that tells us: you should know better. The flame also reminds us that life is precious, as each flame is unique. When it goes out, it's gone forever. And there will never be another quite like it.' --Delenn. Ok, this is more a monologue. It ties in well with my own philosophy of the universe and reads very well, though the acting was good too.
4) 'May gods stand between you and harm in all the empty places you must walk.' -- Ivanova. This was in reference to an old Egyptian blessing, and actually used in season 2 as well (this reference is from season 3). Though more of a deist these days, I like the way these words feel.
5) 'Only those, whose lives are brief can imagine that love .. is eternal. You should embrace that remarkable illusion. It may be the greatest gift your race has ever received.' -- Lorien. One of my favorite quotes about love, and who knew the wisdom of a sci fi tv show? :)
6) 'How is it all going to end?'
'In fire.' -- Kosh to Centauri Emperor Turhan. Even Kosh could see the writing on the wall, but Vorlons are supposed to know those things.
7) 'All my life, I've had doubts about who I am, where I belonged. Now, I'm like the arrow that springs from the bow. No hesitations, no doubts. The path is clear.' - Sinclair/Entil'Zha. I like to look at this one now and then to remind me to stay on the right path... I can understand completely on this one.
8) 'You do not understand... but you will.' -- Kosh to Sheridan. Again, Kosh at his cryptic best, though rather pointed, like a parent trying to get a kid see the forest for the trees and knows that it will all come in time... he hopes.
9) 'Now get the hell out of our galaxy!' -- Sheridan. Nothing like telling some First Ones that we don't need them anymore.
10) 'G'Quan wrote: 'There is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities, it is against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender. The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition, to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain.'" -- G'Kar (end of season 3 monologue). Ah, G'kar... from thug to diplomat to philosopher, his evolution is one of the great treats of watching the series from beginning to completion, and not the least to watch the acting of the late Andreas Katsulas as the Narn ambassador.
11) 'Why is that we always break up our history by the wars, not the years of peace?' -- Garibaldi. I always found this observation to be astute, and somewhat sad, but as as a student of history, and military history as well, I understand all too well.
12) 'Who are you? What do you want? Why are you here? Where are you going?' -- Lorien. The final piece of First One wisdom, this time, by The First One (um, First Ones are technologically superior beings with abilities that lesser beings, like us, would presume to be god-like in less enlightened days.). I've also written a series of essays on these questions... I will have to post them some time.
13) 'If you go to Z'Ha'Dum, you will die.' -- Kosh. No one ever listens to the Vorlon.
Well, that should do it and I hope I haven't confused most of my readers...
C.
1) 'The avalanche has already begun. It is too late for the pebbles to vote.' -- Kosh. My all time favorite and one of those enigmatically cryptic ones that lets you know how powerless you can be sometimes to the gears of history.
2) 'We know... The true secrets, the important things. Fourteen words to make someone fall in love with you forever. Seven words to make them go without pain, or to say goodbye to a friend who is dying. How to be poor, how to be rich, how to rediscover dreams the world has stolen from you.' -- Elric. I mentioned this one a few posts ago regarding the also enigmatic Technomages. I think the quote says it all about what they are.
3) 'We're all born as molecules in the hearts of a billion stars, molecules that do not understand politics, policies and differences. In a billion years we, foolish molecules forget who we are and where we came from. Through desperate acts of ego, we give ourselves names, fight over lines on maps, and pretend our light is better than everyone else's. The flame reminds us of the piece of those stars that live inside us. A spark that tells us: you should know better. The flame also reminds us that life is precious, as each flame is unique. When it goes out, it's gone forever. And there will never be another quite like it.' --Delenn. Ok, this is more a monologue. It ties in well with my own philosophy of the universe and reads very well, though the acting was good too.
4) 'May gods stand between you and harm in all the empty places you must walk.' -- Ivanova. This was in reference to an old Egyptian blessing, and actually used in season 2 as well (this reference is from season 3). Though more of a deist these days, I like the way these words feel.
5) 'Only those, whose lives are brief can imagine that love .. is eternal. You should embrace that remarkable illusion. It may be the greatest gift your race has ever received.' -- Lorien. One of my favorite quotes about love, and who knew the wisdom of a sci fi tv show? :)
6) 'How is it all going to end?'
'In fire.' -- Kosh to Centauri Emperor Turhan. Even Kosh could see the writing on the wall, but Vorlons are supposed to know those things.
7) 'All my life, I've had doubts about who I am, where I belonged. Now, I'm like the arrow that springs from the bow. No hesitations, no doubts. The path is clear.' - Sinclair/Entil'Zha. I like to look at this one now and then to remind me to stay on the right path... I can understand completely on this one.
8) 'You do not understand... but you will.' -- Kosh to Sheridan. Again, Kosh at his cryptic best, though rather pointed, like a parent trying to get a kid see the forest for the trees and knows that it will all come in time... he hopes.
9) 'Now get the hell out of our galaxy!' -- Sheridan. Nothing like telling some First Ones that we don't need them anymore.
10) 'G'Quan wrote: 'There is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities, it is against chaos and despair. Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender. The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition, to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future, or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain.'" -- G'Kar (end of season 3 monologue). Ah, G'kar... from thug to diplomat to philosopher, his evolution is one of the great treats of watching the series from beginning to completion, and not the least to watch the acting of the late Andreas Katsulas as the Narn ambassador.
11) 'Why is that we always break up our history by the wars, not the years of peace?' -- Garibaldi. I always found this observation to be astute, and somewhat sad, but as as a student of history, and military history as well, I understand all too well.
12) 'Who are you? What do you want? Why are you here? Where are you going?' -- Lorien. The final piece of First One wisdom, this time, by The First One (um, First Ones are technologically superior beings with abilities that lesser beings, like us, would presume to be god-like in less enlightened days.). I've also written a series of essays on these questions... I will have to post them some time.
13) 'If you go to Z'Ha'Dum, you will die.' -- Kosh. No one ever listens to the Vorlon.
Well, that should do it and I hope I haven't confused most of my readers...
C.
10 January 2007
Forgiving What is Unrequited
This entry is for 'Poetry Thursday' (a little early for it here, but it's already Thursday elsewhere, and this way I can do a 'Thursday Thirteen' later tonight :) The idea is to do a poem base on a cliche, and what can be more cliched than unrequited love...
'Unrequited'
Currents of time and soul simply cannot wait
In the face of what might never be,
Holding fast to memories incomplete
Dreams so fragmented
Knowing the truth of days lost to your heart.
I want to say so much...
The price, so dear.
Hopes of wonder pulsing in a forgotten instant
Sensing realization within this crucible,
Reaching beyond a vision forlorn
Tears so common
Understanding a curse in yearning for you.
I feel embers that remain...
The silence, so still.
Nights of longing drift toward a morning lament
In the shadows of what could be,
Believing words uttered so long ago
Love so unrequited
Seeking a balance to the fire in my heart.
I want to tell you so much...
The cost, so dear.
It all remains... unrequited.
C.
'Unrequited'
Currents of time and soul simply cannot wait
In the face of what might never be,
Holding fast to memories incomplete
Dreams so fragmented
Knowing the truth of days lost to your heart.
I want to say so much...
The price, so dear.
Hopes of wonder pulsing in a forgotten instant
Sensing realization within this crucible,
Reaching beyond a vision forlorn
Tears so common
Understanding a curse in yearning for you.
I feel embers that remain...
The silence, so still.
Nights of longing drift toward a morning lament
In the shadows of what could be,
Believing words uttered so long ago
Love so unrequited
Seeking a balance to the fire in my heart.
I want to tell you so much...
The cost, so dear.
It all remains... unrequited.
C.
Unknowns Revisited
Sometimes when I read my more recent stuff, I see the person I most recently was and how much I have progressed since then. Long ago, I was truly a hopeless romantic, and I knew that love was so incredible it could be eternal and did not care much about the unknowns. Indeed, there are times I wish it to be still true.
I wrote the following after much soul searching following my divorce, so I started to think being a romantic was increasingly futile. Later, I learned how wrong I was. I still have not found my 'true' love, but I know now I do not need to do so. Perhaps understanding is enough. I revisit this only to see what I almost became, and to some extent, how it helped me move beyond it.
'Unknowns'
This place, familiar and unreal
Knowing I have been, yet never will be
Glancing askance at such fearful and joyous days,
Reaching into the unknowns of love.
A moment out of sync, and proper,
Realizing we could do more though nothing remains.
Drifting apart while clinging to the forlorn,
Facing the melancholy of the unknowns of life.
Your heart broken and healed,
Seeing me as I was, dismissing who I am
Fading away from our tumult and our wonder,
Standing upon embers of dying love.
Years gone and futures hence,
Feeling all that could be felt,
Hoping reduced to tired words on a page,
Lingering amid the doldrums of the unknowns of love.
C.
I wrote the following after much soul searching following my divorce, so I started to think being a romantic was increasingly futile. Later, I learned how wrong I was. I still have not found my 'true' love, but I know now I do not need to do so. Perhaps understanding is enough. I revisit this only to see what I almost became, and to some extent, how it helped me move beyond it.
'Unknowns'
This place, familiar and unreal
Knowing I have been, yet never will be
Glancing askance at such fearful and joyous days,
Reaching into the unknowns of love.
A moment out of sync, and proper,
Realizing we could do more though nothing remains.
Drifting apart while clinging to the forlorn,
Facing the melancholy of the unknowns of life.
Your heart broken and healed,
Seeing me as I was, dismissing who I am
Fading away from our tumult and our wonder,
Standing upon embers of dying love.
Years gone and futures hence,
Feeling all that could be felt,
Hoping reduced to tired words on a page,
Lingering amid the doldrums of the unknowns of love.
C.
09 January 2007
Top 5 Satire Songs
I haven't done a Tell It To Me Tuesday from over at Janet's blog, so I figured I would add these satirical parody songs, mostly by Weid Al Yankovic... still I enjoy them :)
1) The Saga Begins by 'Weird Al' Yankovic: Just a classic and it parodies another favorite song, 'American Pie'. My favorite bit is the end 'And the Jedi I admire most, met up with Darth Maul and now he's toast, Well I'm still here and he's a ghost... I guess I'll train this boy.'
2) The Contra Rap by Rich Little: From the 'Dr. Demento' days.. this parody is a little dated, but so darn funny, and if you suffered through the Iran-Contra hearings, this helped.
3) Star Trekkin' by The Firm: Such a strange, almost dead on parody of the Original Series. Always loved 'We come in peace. Shoot to Kill! Shoot to Kill!'
4) Jerry Springer by 'Weird Al' Yankovic: Another great parody of a good song, this one is just terribly funny and makes fun of ourselves and Springer at the same time. And lyrically, it's too good to miss.
5) This Land by JibJab: A flash parody, but again so darn funny, especially how it makes fun of Kerry and his 'but I won three purple hearts'... actually it makes fun of everyone involved in the process, which is good. Political satire is healthy even if we don't agree with it :)
Honorable Mention: Star Wars Gangsta Rap: A late entry, but if you are a Star Wars fan you should check this out...' We got Death Star!'.
C.
1) The Saga Begins by 'Weird Al' Yankovic: Just a classic and it parodies another favorite song, 'American Pie'. My favorite bit is the end 'And the Jedi I admire most, met up with Darth Maul and now he's toast, Well I'm still here and he's a ghost... I guess I'll train this boy.'
2) The Contra Rap by Rich Little: From the 'Dr. Demento' days.. this parody is a little dated, but so darn funny, and if you suffered through the Iran-Contra hearings, this helped.
3) Star Trekkin' by The Firm: Such a strange, almost dead on parody of the Original Series. Always loved 'We come in peace. Shoot to Kill! Shoot to Kill!'
4) Jerry Springer by 'Weird Al' Yankovic: Another great parody of a good song, this one is just terribly funny and makes fun of ourselves and Springer at the same time. And lyrically, it's too good to miss.
5) This Land by JibJab: A flash parody, but again so darn funny, especially how it makes fun of Kerry and his 'but I won three purple hearts'... actually it makes fun of everyone involved in the process, which is good. Political satire is healthy even if we don't agree with it :)
Honorable Mention: Star Wars Gangsta Rap: A late entry, but if you are a Star Wars fan you should check this out...' We got Death Star!'.
C.
How I Spent My New Year's Eve
It was sooo horrible, let me tell you.... :)Thanks to Maria (the host and the lovely lady to my immediate right) for such an awesome party and for always opening her home to the neigbors, and um... her Brazilian friends. Yeah, never a bad thing.
C.
08 January 2007
Book Reviews:
Since I read so many books, and some that are obscure to the average reader (and some that are obscure to the average history or poli sci student for that matter), I thought I would review a couple tonight, a pair that are wildly different in scope and presentation, but splendid in their own right.
First off we have The Rising Tide by Jeff Shaara. Many of you might be familiar with the name and may have even read his other books as well. His father, Michael, wrote the classic The Killer Angels that later became the movie Gettysburg, and after his father's death, Jeff Shaara finished the trilogy of Civil War novels, writing Gods and Generals and The Last Full Measure. Later, Shaara continued the historical novel of our country's wars by writing Gone for Soldiers (about the Mexican War), two novels of the American Revolution and To the Last Man, a novel of the Great War. Now, a word about my usage of novel (and indeed Mr. Shaara's usage as well). The historical events he describes are for the most part accurate and many of his sources come from letters and other primary sources of the participants; however, because he utilizes dialogue that may or may not (more likely not) have been accurate, the books are considered fiction taking place in the context of the events he describes. For his part, most historians find his representations fairly accurate, and I would contend he captures the spirit of the characters he portrays.
The Rising Tide is the first in a series of novels about the United States' involvement in World War II. It begins with the United States forming a coalition with the British, and to a lesser extent the French (who had not been liberated at the time and were mostly exiled or collaborating), moving through Operation: Torch in North Africa and the invasion of Sicily and Italy. It is presumed the next book will begin with D-Day. Shaara utilizes two main protagonists, General Dwight D. Eisenhower and General (later Field Marshal) Erwin Rommel, though Generals George S. Patton and Mark Clark are featured supporting protagonists. He also captures well the perspective of the enlisted man with chapters devoted to an American tanker as he progresses through the first fight in North Africa, the disastrous battle of Kasserine Pass.
The action in the novel is played out well, with dueling perspectives of the commanders and the enlisted men, and gives the book a gritty, realistic feel. And his characterization of Erwin Rommel is one of the best I have ever read. Further, Shaara captures the intense pressure Eisenhower was under in building a coalition of two (later three) major allies and trying to stop the German war machine. From the German side, we see how hamstrung Rommel and his contemporaries were because of Hitler's increasing insanity and the delusions of Fascist Italy. On the side of the Allies, we also see Eisenhower's frustration with his two best field commanders, Patton and Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery. In the end, it is amazing, with all the conflicting and outrageous personalities, that the Allies were ever able to coordinate their forces.
If I had one misgiving, it was that I had the feeling I had seen this before, especially in Shaara's realistic portrayal of Patton. Indeed, at times, I thought I was having flashbacks to the movie 'Patton' because much of how Patton is characterized is dead on with the movie. It may be that Shaara paid homage, or that both the movie and the book were fairly accurate in that regard. In any event, I still recommend the book, especially for the casual student of World War II history, as it does not overwhelm the reader with details of battle but instead focuses on those who fought the war and how the war affected them.
Switching gears, we have What Kind of Nation by James F. Simon, a study of the constitutional struggles between Thomas Jefferson and John Marshall. At first, I thought it would be more of an analysis of their confrontations as President and Chief Justice respectively (though the book goes into that in great detail), but it is more a narrative of their lives in relation to the early growing pains of the young Republic. The book begins with Jefferson joining Washington's Cabinet and his early conflicts with Alexander Hamilton, a man diametrically opposed to Jefferson. Indeed, the heart of the book is less the conflict of Jefferson and Marshall to me, but the struggle of the early political ideologies of the nation.
Simon also makes some interesting insights into the character of Jefferson, especially his desire for secession during the presidency of his former friend John Adams, and shows how John Marshall emerges from relative obscurity to basically determine how the Supreme Court would be seen in later generations. Indeed, for good or ill, John Marshall is the reason the Supreme Court exists in the manner it does today. Further, it can (and is) argued that his legacy is perhaps more important to modern America than Jefferson's, if only because Jefferson was a product of the Enlightenment and could never escape the idea that the United States should remain an 'are' and not an 'is' (with apologies to Shelby Foote). Marshall's America heralds the 20th century, while Jefferson's longs for simpler times. The problem is that Marshall understood that the Federal system might have been better for America in the long run, while Jefferson continued to scream States Rights until his death.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, mostly because I am intrigued by the philosophy of political ideology and how it has evolved to the present day. And this book delivers in that regard. If you are interested in the early political struggles of the United States, I recommend this book.
Well, I hope these reviews are ok, as I have not done a real review in a couple of years. Do enjoy whatever books you choose to read, and again, I do recommend these two fine books.
C.
First off we have The Rising Tide by Jeff Shaara. Many of you might be familiar with the name and may have even read his other books as well. His father, Michael, wrote the classic The Killer Angels that later became the movie Gettysburg, and after his father's death, Jeff Shaara finished the trilogy of Civil War novels, writing Gods and Generals and The Last Full Measure. Later, Shaara continued the historical novel of our country's wars by writing Gone for Soldiers (about the Mexican War), two novels of the American Revolution and To the Last Man, a novel of the Great War. Now, a word about my usage of novel (and indeed Mr. Shaara's usage as well). The historical events he describes are for the most part accurate and many of his sources come from letters and other primary sources of the participants; however, because he utilizes dialogue that may or may not (more likely not) have been accurate, the books are considered fiction taking place in the context of the events he describes. For his part, most historians find his representations fairly accurate, and I would contend he captures the spirit of the characters he portrays.
The Rising Tide is the first in a series of novels about the United States' involvement in World War II. It begins with the United States forming a coalition with the British, and to a lesser extent the French (who had not been liberated at the time and were mostly exiled or collaborating), moving through Operation: Torch in North Africa and the invasion of Sicily and Italy. It is presumed the next book will begin with D-Day. Shaara utilizes two main protagonists, General Dwight D. Eisenhower and General (later Field Marshal) Erwin Rommel, though Generals George S. Patton and Mark Clark are featured supporting protagonists. He also captures well the perspective of the enlisted man with chapters devoted to an American tanker as he progresses through the first fight in North Africa, the disastrous battle of Kasserine Pass.
The action in the novel is played out well, with dueling perspectives of the commanders and the enlisted men, and gives the book a gritty, realistic feel. And his characterization of Erwin Rommel is one of the best I have ever read. Further, Shaara captures the intense pressure Eisenhower was under in building a coalition of two (later three) major allies and trying to stop the German war machine. From the German side, we see how hamstrung Rommel and his contemporaries were because of Hitler's increasing insanity and the delusions of Fascist Italy. On the side of the Allies, we also see Eisenhower's frustration with his two best field commanders, Patton and Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery. In the end, it is amazing, with all the conflicting and outrageous personalities, that the Allies were ever able to coordinate their forces.
If I had one misgiving, it was that I had the feeling I had seen this before, especially in Shaara's realistic portrayal of Patton. Indeed, at times, I thought I was having flashbacks to the movie 'Patton' because much of how Patton is characterized is dead on with the movie. It may be that Shaara paid homage, or that both the movie and the book were fairly accurate in that regard. In any event, I still recommend the book, especially for the casual student of World War II history, as it does not overwhelm the reader with details of battle but instead focuses on those who fought the war and how the war affected them.
Switching gears, we have What Kind of Nation by James F. Simon, a study of the constitutional struggles between Thomas Jefferson and John Marshall. At first, I thought it would be more of an analysis of their confrontations as President and Chief Justice respectively (though the book goes into that in great detail), but it is more a narrative of their lives in relation to the early growing pains of the young Republic. The book begins with Jefferson joining Washington's Cabinet and his early conflicts with Alexander Hamilton, a man diametrically opposed to Jefferson. Indeed, the heart of the book is less the conflict of Jefferson and Marshall to me, but the struggle of the early political ideologies of the nation.
Simon also makes some interesting insights into the character of Jefferson, especially his desire for secession during the presidency of his former friend John Adams, and shows how John Marshall emerges from relative obscurity to basically determine how the Supreme Court would be seen in later generations. Indeed, for good or ill, John Marshall is the reason the Supreme Court exists in the manner it does today. Further, it can (and is) argued that his legacy is perhaps more important to modern America than Jefferson's, if only because Jefferson was a product of the Enlightenment and could never escape the idea that the United States should remain an 'are' and not an 'is' (with apologies to Shelby Foote). Marshall's America heralds the 20th century, while Jefferson's longs for simpler times. The problem is that Marshall understood that the Federal system might have been better for America in the long run, while Jefferson continued to scream States Rights until his death.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, mostly because I am intrigued by the philosophy of political ideology and how it has evolved to the present day. And this book delivers in that regard. If you are interested in the early political struggles of the United States, I recommend this book.
Well, I hope these reviews are ok, as I have not done a real review in a couple of years. Do enjoy whatever books you choose to read, and again, I do recommend these two fine books.
C.
Military/ War Movies
After watching 'Patton' last night, and using this as a sort of pretext to my next entry (which will likely be a review of 'The Rising Tide' by Jeff Shaara, then I may bore everyone with some more poems and the like), I compiled a list of fifteen war/military movies that I really, really liked, inspired me, or affected me deeply. I would put Ken Burn's 'Civil War' on the list, but it is most certainly a documentary and not a Hollywood release, which all of these are, or at least eventually made it to Hollywood and American release. This also does not cover any newer movies, though I am sure 'Letters From Iwo Jima' will be up there when it is all said and done. As far as what qualifies as a military/war movie, it is pretty simple. If fighting between rival armies occurs, it can qualify, so there might be a few that are not quite what you might consider a war movie, but I do because it happens during the backdrop of war. Also, because I like so many of these types of films, I also have a category at the end called: Also Receiving Votes, much like the Top 25 polls in College Sports.
15 War/Military Films:
1) Glory (1989): Starring: Matthew Broderick, Denzel Washington, and Morgan Freeman. Some would surely place this lower, but for sheer spectacle and inspiration, this is far and away my favorite, and though it did not win for best musical score, it should have, probably deserving of more Oscars than the two it received.
2) Last of the Mohicans (1992): Starring: Daniel-Day Lewis, Madeline Stowe and Wes Studi. While this is at times a romance, it is most assuredly a war film, set during the backdrop of the Seven Years/French and Indian War. The soundtrack to this film is simply amazing, and elevates it on the list for inspiration alone.
3) Dances With Wolves (1990): Starring: Kevin Costner, Mary McDonnell, and Graham Greene. One of my favorite westerns, and as a military film, captures the post civil-war military very well and one of the most beautifully photographed films ever.
4) Full Metal Jacket (1987): Starring: Matthew Modine, R. Lee Ermey, and Vincent D'Onofrio. The first half of this film is almost perfect, with R. Lee Ermey's performance one of the most memorable in any military film. The film's sometimes slow second half (though the siege of Hue was done nicely) keeps this from being in the top spot.
5) Patton (1970): Starring: George C. Scott and Karl Malden. Scott's performance as Patton is the most memorable in any military film and won him an Academy Award (and the film garnished 7 others). This film grows on me every time I see it, and even after reading accounts of the real George S. Patton, I enjoy it even more (even though Scott thought his portrayal did not do the real Patton justice). And as General Omar Bradly, Karl Malden plays the perfect counter to the larger than life Patton.
6) We Were Soldiers (2002): Starring: Mel Gibson, Barry Pepper, Greg Kinnear, and Sam Elliott. The first of two Gibson films on this list. He may be reviled, but he is in great war films, and this is the most accurate of his films (since he did not direct it). One of the most brilliant films about the soldier's burden, showing both sides in the first major battle of the Vietnam War. A fascinating move, and even better book.
7) The Last Samurai (2003): Starring: Tom Cruise and Ken Watanabe. I probably should have listed Watanbe first, since his performance is mainly the reason this film is on this list, though the masterful score and cinematography help. An impeccable film, even if one has to endure Cruise.
8) A Bridge Too Far (1977): Starring: Michael Caine, Sean Connery, Laurence Olivier, Edward Fox, Anthony Hopkins, Ryan O'Neal, James Caan, Robert Redford, Maximilian Schell, Gene Hackman, and Liv Ullman. Perhaps one of the most star-studded films of the last half of the 20th century, and to me, the only reason it is not more well known is because of another 'War' film that premiered in 1977. Based on a book by Cornelius Ryan (who also wrote 'The Longest Day') and directed by Richard Attenborough, this is a splendid film about Operation: Market Garden, which was one of the most ambitious operations of WWII.
9) The Longest Day (1962): Starring: Richard Burton, Sean Connery, Henry Fonda, John Wayne, Rod Steiger, George Segal, Robert Wagner, Robert Mitchum and Roddy McDowell. The movie that Saving Private Ryan could have been, and the definitive movie about D-Day, with a cast comparable to A Bridge Too Far and in many ways better. Only winning two Oscars, perhaps deserving of more. Fantastic movie.
10) Gallipoli (1981): Starring: Mel Gibson and Mark Lee. Directed by Peter Weir, this Australian film about two runners who wind up at Gallipoli, is one that is at times idealistic and haunting. Perhaps not as polished as other films on this list, it makes up for it in the power and tragedy of the invasion of the Dardanelles at Gallipoli where the ANZAC's (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps), in their first battle of the Great War, were annihilated.
11) Platoon (1986): Starring: Charlie Sheen, Wilhem Dafoe and Tom Berenger. Oliver Stone's famous Vietnam film is a great one, but always felt a little impersonal to me and focused too much on the degenerate attitude of many of the soldiers (whether true or not). Still, filled with powerful imagery and great acting.
12) Tora, Tora, Tora (1970): Starring: Jason Robards, E.G. Marshall, and James Whitmore. Perhaps overshadowed by Patton, but the movie that 'Pearl Harbor' could have been, and easily better acted though without the benefit of the CGI scenes of the later movie. Still, a classic and worth watching.
13) Black Hawk Down (2001): Starring: Ewan Mc Gregor, Jason Isaacs, Josh Hartnett, Tom Sizemore, Orlando Bloom, Eric Bana, and Sam Shepard. Perhaps a modern day A Bridge Too Far in its casting, this film by Ridley Scott about the ambush in Mogadishu, Somalia of Army Rangers is one of the best films dealing with modern combat. Once the fighting starts, it is unrelenting, at times harrowing, and very realistic. Some would call the operation a failure, and perhaps so, but it belittles the courage of the 100 some-odd men who faced off against thousands of Somali rebels and to my mind, prevailed.
14) Saving Private Ryan (1998): Starring: Tom Hanks, Matt Damon, Vin Diesel, Barry Pepper, Tom Sizemore, Edward Burns and Giovanni Rbisi. Some might call the film a bit nationalistic as it appears to give full credit to the D-day invasion to the US, but the scene of the landing at Omaha Beach is one of the most powerful in movie history. Further, it is still an extremely well acted film.
15) The Thin Red Line (1998): Starring: Sean Penn, John Cusack, Nick Nolte, Jim Caviezel, Adrien Brody, Woody Harrelson and Elias Koteas (plus numerous other 'star' cameos). A lot of folks did not like this film, but I felt the existential feel of much of the film was very inspirational to me, and allowed it to creep up on this list. The combat scenes were not in the league of Saving Private Ryan, but they did not need to be.
Honorable Mention: Grave of the Fireflies (1988): I was reminded by this of another blogger's post, and totally forgot to add it. This film by directed by Iso Takahata is an anime, but the fact it is animated does not detract from its power and simply ability to tear you up inside. This is the heart-wrenching story of a brother and sister who struggle to survive the Tokyo firebombings in WWII. One that stays with you.
Also Receiving Votes (in no particular order): Braveheart, Gettysburg, Gods and Generals, In Harm's Way, The Patriot, The Green Berets, Gladiator, Bridge on the River Kwai, Breaker Morant, Lawrence of Arabia, Heartbreak Ridge, Spartacus, and Apocalypse Now.
That should cover it, and though it is late, hope to get the review sometime tomorrow :)
C.
15 War/Military Films:
1) Glory (1989): Starring: Matthew Broderick, Denzel Washington, and Morgan Freeman. Some would surely place this lower, but for sheer spectacle and inspiration, this is far and away my favorite, and though it did not win for best musical score, it should have, probably deserving of more Oscars than the two it received.
2) Last of the Mohicans (1992): Starring: Daniel-Day Lewis, Madeline Stowe and Wes Studi. While this is at times a romance, it is most assuredly a war film, set during the backdrop of the Seven Years/French and Indian War. The soundtrack to this film is simply amazing, and elevates it on the list for inspiration alone.
3) Dances With Wolves (1990): Starring: Kevin Costner, Mary McDonnell, and Graham Greene. One of my favorite westerns, and as a military film, captures the post civil-war military very well and one of the most beautifully photographed films ever.
4) Full Metal Jacket (1987): Starring: Matthew Modine, R. Lee Ermey, and Vincent D'Onofrio. The first half of this film is almost perfect, with R. Lee Ermey's performance one of the most memorable in any military film. The film's sometimes slow second half (though the siege of Hue was done nicely) keeps this from being in the top spot.
5) Patton (1970): Starring: George C. Scott and Karl Malden. Scott's performance as Patton is the most memorable in any military film and won him an Academy Award (and the film garnished 7 others). This film grows on me every time I see it, and even after reading accounts of the real George S. Patton, I enjoy it even more (even though Scott thought his portrayal did not do the real Patton justice). And as General Omar Bradly, Karl Malden plays the perfect counter to the larger than life Patton.
6) We Were Soldiers (2002): Starring: Mel Gibson, Barry Pepper, Greg Kinnear, and Sam Elliott. The first of two Gibson films on this list. He may be reviled, but he is in great war films, and this is the most accurate of his films (since he did not direct it). One of the most brilliant films about the soldier's burden, showing both sides in the first major battle of the Vietnam War. A fascinating move, and even better book.
7) The Last Samurai (2003): Starring: Tom Cruise and Ken Watanabe. I probably should have listed Watanbe first, since his performance is mainly the reason this film is on this list, though the masterful score and cinematography help. An impeccable film, even if one has to endure Cruise.
8) A Bridge Too Far (1977): Starring: Michael Caine, Sean Connery, Laurence Olivier, Edward Fox, Anthony Hopkins, Ryan O'Neal, James Caan, Robert Redford, Maximilian Schell, Gene Hackman, and Liv Ullman. Perhaps one of the most star-studded films of the last half of the 20th century, and to me, the only reason it is not more well known is because of another 'War' film that premiered in 1977. Based on a book by Cornelius Ryan (who also wrote 'The Longest Day') and directed by Richard Attenborough, this is a splendid film about Operation: Market Garden, which was one of the most ambitious operations of WWII.
9) The Longest Day (1962): Starring: Richard Burton, Sean Connery, Henry Fonda, John Wayne, Rod Steiger, George Segal, Robert Wagner, Robert Mitchum and Roddy McDowell. The movie that Saving Private Ryan could have been, and the definitive movie about D-Day, with a cast comparable to A Bridge Too Far and in many ways better. Only winning two Oscars, perhaps deserving of more. Fantastic movie.
10) Gallipoli (1981): Starring: Mel Gibson and Mark Lee. Directed by Peter Weir, this Australian film about two runners who wind up at Gallipoli, is one that is at times idealistic and haunting. Perhaps not as polished as other films on this list, it makes up for it in the power and tragedy of the invasion of the Dardanelles at Gallipoli where the ANZAC's (Australia and New Zealand Army Corps), in their first battle of the Great War, were annihilated.
11) Platoon (1986): Starring: Charlie Sheen, Wilhem Dafoe and Tom Berenger. Oliver Stone's famous Vietnam film is a great one, but always felt a little impersonal to me and focused too much on the degenerate attitude of many of the soldiers (whether true or not). Still, filled with powerful imagery and great acting.
12) Tora, Tora, Tora (1970): Starring: Jason Robards, E.G. Marshall, and James Whitmore. Perhaps overshadowed by Patton, but the movie that 'Pearl Harbor' could have been, and easily better acted though without the benefit of the CGI scenes of the later movie. Still, a classic and worth watching.
13) Black Hawk Down (2001): Starring: Ewan Mc Gregor, Jason Isaacs, Josh Hartnett, Tom Sizemore, Orlando Bloom, Eric Bana, and Sam Shepard. Perhaps a modern day A Bridge Too Far in its casting, this film by Ridley Scott about the ambush in Mogadishu, Somalia of Army Rangers is one of the best films dealing with modern combat. Once the fighting starts, it is unrelenting, at times harrowing, and very realistic. Some would call the operation a failure, and perhaps so, but it belittles the courage of the 100 some-odd men who faced off against thousands of Somali rebels and to my mind, prevailed.
14) Saving Private Ryan (1998): Starring: Tom Hanks, Matt Damon, Vin Diesel, Barry Pepper, Tom Sizemore, Edward Burns and Giovanni Rbisi. Some might call the film a bit nationalistic as it appears to give full credit to the D-day invasion to the US, but the scene of the landing at Omaha Beach is one of the most powerful in movie history. Further, it is still an extremely well acted film.
15) The Thin Red Line (1998): Starring: Sean Penn, John Cusack, Nick Nolte, Jim Caviezel, Adrien Brody, Woody Harrelson and Elias Koteas (plus numerous other 'star' cameos). A lot of folks did not like this film, but I felt the existential feel of much of the film was very inspirational to me, and allowed it to creep up on this list. The combat scenes were not in the league of Saving Private Ryan, but they did not need to be.
Honorable Mention: Grave of the Fireflies (1988): I was reminded by this of another blogger's post, and totally forgot to add it. This film by directed by Iso Takahata is an anime, but the fact it is animated does not detract from its power and simply ability to tear you up inside. This is the heart-wrenching story of a brother and sister who struggle to survive the Tokyo firebombings in WWII. One that stays with you.
Also Receiving Votes (in no particular order): Braveheart, Gettysburg, Gods and Generals, In Harm's Way, The Patriot, The Green Berets, Gladiator, Bridge on the River Kwai, Breaker Morant, Lawrence of Arabia, Heartbreak Ridge, Spartacus, and Apocalypse Now.
That should cover it, and though it is late, hope to get the review sometime tomorrow :)
C.
07 January 2007
Points Of No Return
Thought I would post something different to take my mind of tonight... I did watch 'Patton' and that always helps... nothing like war movies to sooth a troubled heart :)
I have made it fairly clear that my favorite musical is 'Phantom of the Opera'. At one point, I was fairly obsessed with it, going so far as memorizing the libretto (from listening to it so much). It was also a musical I always wanted to be in; however, my crappy singing voice prevented such things... I can carry a note, I just do not sound good. In any event, these trials do not detract from my love of the musical, which I have seen three times, once in Los Angeles and twice in Dallas, all times with remarkably good seats, the best being in LA, when I had sixth row dead center. I think I only paid fifty-six dollars each for those (back in 1992), which would be significantly higher now I am sure. Anyway, with all that obsession I have written a couple of items regarding 'Phantom', and one in particular I always liked, though edited over the years. When I was younger, I also saw this as a sort of metaphor, thinking I was filled with some internal darkness that could not be cured... eh, I was young. In any event, hope you enjoy it.
'Ode'
From the shadow, I will haunt you
Monstrous, pitied by none...
Night hides my imperfections,
A torment, borne from fear.
Look not, lest you fall.
Dare you to see
What lies beyond this mask?
In this moment, I will love you
A loathsome creature, destroyed by hate...
Your visage soothes this pain,
A madness, lost in your eyes.
Speak not, lest you weep.
Dare you to feel
The beat of this mournful heart?
In the 'morn, I will yield
Even if the thought is agony...
Your love heals these wounds,
A joy, made whole in your smile.
Remember, lest you forget.
C.
I have made it fairly clear that my favorite musical is 'Phantom of the Opera'. At one point, I was fairly obsessed with it, going so far as memorizing the libretto (from listening to it so much). It was also a musical I always wanted to be in; however, my crappy singing voice prevented such things... I can carry a note, I just do not sound good. In any event, these trials do not detract from my love of the musical, which I have seen three times, once in Los Angeles and twice in Dallas, all times with remarkably good seats, the best being in LA, when I had sixth row dead center. I think I only paid fifty-six dollars each for those (back in 1992), which would be significantly higher now I am sure. Anyway, with all that obsession I have written a couple of items regarding 'Phantom', and one in particular I always liked, though edited over the years. When I was younger, I also saw this as a sort of metaphor, thinking I was filled with some internal darkness that could not be cured... eh, I was young. In any event, hope you enjoy it.
'Ode'
From the shadow, I will haunt you
Monstrous, pitied by none...
Night hides my imperfections,
A torment, borne from fear.
Look not, lest you fall.
Dare you to see
What lies beyond this mask?
In this moment, I will love you
A loathsome creature, destroyed by hate...
Your visage soothes this pain,
A madness, lost in your eyes.
Speak not, lest you weep.
Dare you to feel
The beat of this mournful heart?
In the 'morn, I will yield
Even if the thought is agony...
Your love heals these wounds,
A joy, made whole in your smile.
Remember, lest you forget.
C.
06 January 2007
Defeat From The Jaws Of Victory
Well, football season is over for me. The Cowboys managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory... a botched hold on what was basically an extra point (plus a questionable reversal on a first down play, the play before). It wasn't the only crucial mistake but it was the last. A decent, exciting game, but one we probably should have one... too much of that this year. At least I should be looking forward to a good Mavericks run this year.
C.
C.
More Wisdom From Babylon 5
Sorry don't have much today, but I am distracted by the likely Cowboys loss tonight (hope I am wrong, but...).
'We know... The true secrets, the important things. Fourteen words to make someone fall in love with you forever. Seven words to make them go without pain, or to say goodbye to a friend who is dying. How to be poor, how to be rich, how to rediscover dreams the world has stolen from you.'
Anyway, this is one of my favorite lines from B5 (hmmm, maybe for a future Thursday 13 I can throw out my 13 favorite line from Babylon 5... that would be different), and comes from the esoteric Technomages. What they do is really unimportant, though cool (using technology to appear as magic), but what is said in this bit is. It sort of explains the Technomage philosophy and definitely a unique perpsective... and I always liked the way it sounds.
Have a great weekend,
C.
'We know... The true secrets, the important things. Fourteen words to make someone fall in love with you forever. Seven words to make them go without pain, or to say goodbye to a friend who is dying. How to be poor, how to be rich, how to rediscover dreams the world has stolen from you.'
Anyway, this is one of my favorite lines from B5 (hmmm, maybe for a future Thursday 13 I can throw out my 13 favorite line from Babylon 5... that would be different), and comes from the esoteric Technomages. What they do is really unimportant, though cool (using technology to appear as magic), but what is said in this bit is. It sort of explains the Technomage philosophy and definitely a unique perpsective... and I always liked the way it sounds.
Have a great weekend,
C.
04 January 2007
Disquiet Notions
I just noticed I'm nearing the 100 post barrier... not bad for just around 3 months... I think I am a little over a post a day, but I've had a few days where I had multiple posts, and a couple of 2 or 3 day gaps... so it evens out.
One of the things I find interesting is growing as a writer and the changes of style over the years... for example, the following piece is something I would never have considered in regards to style or subtext. I suppose that is the wisdom of hindsight and of course, hopefully being better at this than I used to be. .
Anyway, this piece is a bit chaotic, and it is intentional, mostly an experiment in writing without considering the verse form, something I rarely do. Still, I kind of liked the way it turned out and reminds me that a funk can be just as much philosophical as physical or emotional.
'Disquiet Notions'
Empty spaces closing advancing upon shadow
Tenuous nervous accord
Believing irrelevance drifts aside toward
Distinct yet bellicose revelations
Resigning events feigning happiness
Suppressing action desire reaction
Forcing smiles glancing askance
Though smoldering remnants consume
Distinction resolution incapable inevitable...
My price for contemplation
A welcome hope for joy
But whose...
All that I would give
Have given...
Moments inescapable soothing disquiet nights
Memories beaming through laments
A regret
All I have left to give...
And yet...
Not even regret erases these stains.
C.
One of the things I find interesting is growing as a writer and the changes of style over the years... for example, the following piece is something I would never have considered in regards to style or subtext. I suppose that is the wisdom of hindsight and of course, hopefully being better at this than I used to be. .
Anyway, this piece is a bit chaotic, and it is intentional, mostly an experiment in writing without considering the verse form, something I rarely do. Still, I kind of liked the way it turned out and reminds me that a funk can be just as much philosophical as physical or emotional.
'Disquiet Notions'
Empty spaces closing advancing upon shadow
Tenuous nervous accord
Believing irrelevance drifts aside toward
Distinct yet bellicose revelations
Resigning events feigning happiness
Suppressing action desire reaction
Forcing smiles glancing askance
Though smoldering remnants consume
Distinction resolution incapable inevitable...
My price for contemplation
A welcome hope for joy
But whose...
All that I would give
Have given...
Moments inescapable soothing disquiet nights
Memories beaming through laments
A regret
All I have left to give...
And yet...
Not even regret erases these stains.
C.
03 January 2007
Empty Dreams of Empty Nights
As long as I was on the subject of insomnia, lying awake waiting for the wolf of the middle of the night to nip at my heels, I thought I would add another piece about lying awake and thinking of all the wrongs in my life and the what might have beens. Still, writing this has helped me understand that I can use those what might have beens to help understand what is and what may yet be.
'Emptiness'
'Hope is a waking dream.' --- Aristotle
I lie awake wanting the image to come back to me,
yet knowing it will not.
If I could reach to you again,
perhaps we might both forgive,
yet I know you will not.
I linger in the restless night hoping for resolution,
but knowing it will not come.
If you could understand what I feel
then we might both let go,
yet I know I have not.
I lie awake, but your image fades
as I knew it would.
If I could just sleep,
perhaps we shall both meet again,
yet I know we will not.
C.
'Emptiness'
'Hope is a waking dream.' --- Aristotle
I lie awake wanting the image to come back to me,
yet knowing it will not.
If I could reach to you again,
perhaps we might both forgive,
yet I know you will not.
I linger in the restless night hoping for resolution,
but knowing it will not come.
If you could understand what I feel
then we might both let go,
yet I know I have not.
I lie awake, but your image fades
as I knew it would.
If I could just sleep,
perhaps we shall both meet again,
yet I know we will not.
C.
02 January 2007
Hour Of The Wolf
Lat night, as I lay awake, I was thinking of the following piece and the Hour of the Wolf, so named for those restless hours before dawn when one wakes up and cannot get back to sleep (And also the title of a 4th season Babylon 5 episode for the citation minded :) . In my case, I had not been to sleep, which is about the norm these days. That time of night, though, is strange and wondrous, and as one becomes more sleep deprived, little things change. Sounds, thoughts, even what you see shifts a little. Strange, but I've seen it enough to know that perception shifts late at night, or early in the 'morn, however you wish to view it.
Not surprisingly, I've written a lot in the middle of the night, those times when memory wants to consume you and all you can do is regret, wonder, and worry. The following is an older stream of consciousness piece that to me, sums up those memories and the danger of what might have been and what was.
'Hour of the Wolf'
Lying awake....
Gentle sighs between nervous tensions of
Passionate tenderness eschewing
A disquiet memory of longing for that sweet
Ecstasy belying its own beauty hoping for
That enduring but fleeting instant
Which cannot be worn away.
Whispers of words lost in moments of heightened
Revelation which are forgotten and
Remembered between the seconds of
Overwhelming intensity lasting as
Needed or wanting for more.
Simple passion yet complex rhythms on
Nights time slipped into wonder culminating in a
Singular movement filled with driven
Amazement as surreal and real collide enveloping
Sensuality bringing it to that place
Within the wellspring of souls.
The image fades...
Haunting the hours before dawn.
C.
Not surprisingly, I've written a lot in the middle of the night, those times when memory wants to consume you and all you can do is regret, wonder, and worry. The following is an older stream of consciousness piece that to me, sums up those memories and the danger of what might have been and what was.
'Hour of the Wolf'
Lying awake....
Gentle sighs between nervous tensions of
Passionate tenderness eschewing
A disquiet memory of longing for that sweet
Ecstasy belying its own beauty hoping for
That enduring but fleeting instant
Which cannot be worn away.
Whispers of words lost in moments of heightened
Revelation which are forgotten and
Remembered between the seconds of
Overwhelming intensity lasting as
Needed or wanting for more.
Simple passion yet complex rhythms on
Nights time slipped into wonder culminating in a
Singular movement filled with driven
Amazement as surreal and real collide enveloping
Sensuality bringing it to that place
Within the wellspring of souls.
The image fades...
Haunting the hours before dawn.
C.
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