(This post is not written by an expert in anything. These are opinions and theories based on experience, not facts based on evidence. If you have a problem with anything said here, please begin a discussion, as I would rather be convinced that my theories are wrong than have someone think they're wrong and not tell me.)
So, it's 6:21 am CDT, and I am awake. This is an anomaly: do not be fooled into thinking I am a morning person. No, I'm waiting for the registration to open pottermore.com. There's been a window of about a half hour every day since Sunday, and the windows will officially close for a few months after Saturday, so I've dedicated the early mornings of the past couple days to waiting around for my opportunity to register for the site.
Yesterday was the first day I purposefully woke up early. I got to the site, found the clue, realized I didn't have my copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban, where the answer to the clue could be found, so defaulted and used the audiobook, since iTunes just happened to be open. (If I had had to open iTunes, it would have taken about five full minutes, if not more, and I think I would have imploded due to the building pressure.) I solved the clue, got to the website where the quill was supposed to be, and couldn't find it. Registration had closed. So I shrugged wistfully, yawned, and went back to sleep.
On Sunday, registration opened at 3 am in my time zone, on Monday, it opened at 4 am, and on Tuesday it opened at 5 am. So, I set my alarm this morning for a little before six and hopped online to wait around. Well...obviously, since it's 6:27 now, the trend has changed. It irks me a little and I find it unsettling that whoever is in charge of this website is making the fans jump through so many hoops to get to it. If it's just because they want the most dedicated fans to get on the site for this early registration dry run, I can maybe understand that, although I must point out that "Harry Potter Fan" does not directly translate to "Internet-Savvy, Scavenger-Hunt Extraordinaire" and that there are probably people getting on to Pottermore who were more intrigued by the process of getting there than they will be by the website. But if the reason for the manipulations comes from the fact that, Harry Potter being what it is to so many people, this is one fan base who would put up with almost anything, and this sort of registration process is more fun for the people in charge...that's just sick and they should stop. People are staying up egregiously late in some time zones, or waking up entirely too early, skiving off summer school or work...seems wrong to me. Dumbledore wouldn't let this happen.
Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about really.
In the excess time that I've been awake when pottermore hasn't been open (it's 6:35 now) I've been browsing the internet. It started on twitter where, since I'm following Pottermorefans, I was already sitting waiting for some news, perhaps on why regsitration wasn't open yet. I perused the past tweets, the @replies, etc, and I noticed a fervent energy present in every bit of the online conversations that revolved around this twitter account. People excited for pottermore opening, people preparing for each clue by quizzing themselves with similar clues they've made up themselves, people speculating about how access to the site is actually going to work, people sharing stories about the ridiculous things they've done for Harry Potter in the past, comparing Houses, etc. To some degree, it reminded me of the sort of energy I always felt at Harry Potter midnight showings, the energy that kept me coming back to the cinema every year, even though I didn't like the movies anymore.
But I started following links, and looking at other Harry Potter fandom things, and I remembered a book I saw for sale called Dear Mr. Potter which is filled with letters from people to Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling, telling them their stories about how Harry Potter made their life better in some way. A lot of them were touching, some were similar to mine, but a few of them sort of scared me in a way, and I stopped wanting to read them.
I've been called a nerd on several occasions, it feels like my mom calls me an "addict" every time I do anything for more than an hour for two days in a row (right now, this includes my obsession with ST:VOY), and I've gotten numerous questioning looks and scoffs, and even the odd demoralizing attack on my sanity from people who think I get "too" into things. Most of the time, these things are fandoms like Harry Potter, The Lord of the Rings, Star Trek, Twilight, and others. A few people have made fun of my T-shirt collection, but that's rare (because my t-shirt collection is universally awesome). Some people say I'm too Christian, too, but that's a different matter from my perspective, if not from theirs.
Harry Potter is different, because it is the one series I constantly return to. With others, I go through phases: I don't feel the same awe when I watch the Lord of the Rings movies as I did when I was in Junior High, I don't wish Lt. Commander Data were a non-fictional artificial lifeform anymore, and I certainly hate Bella Swan and her entire creepy family. But I've always loved Harry Potter, from the time I read the first book to the moment the credits rolled on the eighth movie, a timeline of almost fifteen years, my love for the series has developed from a phase-based infatuation into a sort of foundational love. Harry Potter is definitely a part of my life, and I'm sure I wouldn't be the same person if I hadn't read it. This is not true of all the other fandoms I've been a part of, including Twilight, Star Trek, Eragon, or The Matrix: take those experiences away, and the change in my character and person would be minimal.
The other fandom that captured my heart so thoroughly was The Lord of the Rings. I was in fifth or sixth grade when the first movie came out, and it took me a year to read the first book, but after that and until I got into high school, I was beyond obsessed. But it was not the same kind of obsession I had with Harry Potter. 2001, the year the movie came out, was a pretty hard year for me. It was a pretty hard year for the country, which certainly contributed to my year sucking. 2002 and 2003 were not much better. For this period of three years, I didn't have very many friends, my family life was more complicated and painful than I was used to, and I was doing terribly in school. The only thing that was going right, I thought, was The Lord of the Rings. Between reading the books, watching the movies, and obsessing over the details of both, I could easily occupy my mind with things other than my own life, and for the most part, that's exactly what I did for three years. I checked out of reality for the better part of Junior High, forgoing relationships with people around me, a better understanding of myself, and a first-hand knowledge of the world because there were things in my life that upset me and The Lord of the Rings allowed me to get away from them.
Sure, I turned out all right in the end, and yes, being a "fan" doesn't necessarily mean you're an escapist, and no, escapism is not always the same as hard drugs: sometimes it's just a coping mechanism, an outlet to plug in and recharge, and none of that scares me or bothers me. But reading some of those letters to Rowling and hearing the way those people were talking about the series as if it "saved" them from their terrible lives because they were able to read it long enough to wait out their problems and not have to deal with them every day...it feels dangerous to me.
Dumbledore himself said, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." Wishing Hogwarts is real, that you had friends like Hermione or Luna, that you could be a part of something special and important like Dumbledore's Army, that makes sense and I imagine is a natural response to a series that garnered so much love and attention for so long by so many. But I think that believing the books changed your life when all that happened was that you lived them instead of it is just incorrect. If thirteen years of your life you dwelled on Harry Potter, hoping it was real, living as if it was, and skipping out on what was actually happening around you, even if it was too terrible for you to live with, the series did not save you: it allowed you to lose thirteen years of your life that you will never get back.
I'm pretty sure I'm reading more into those letters than is there, since even my bout of living outside reality wasn't that deep or detrimental. But I wanted to voice my opinions about escapism, I guess, because I do think it's dangerous, and I do believe it's similar to, if not the same as an addiction. Some addictions are obviously unhealthy, and the family and friends of the user notice the signs and urge the user to seek help. Some addictions are less noticable, either because they are easily hidden (pornography and x-rated romance novels, anorexia and bulimia, etc) or because they are socially acceptable (caffeine, nicotine, etc). Some are more physically damaging than others (heroine, alcohol, etc) while some are more emotionally or psychologically damaging than others (eating disorders).
But all addictions are the same in that they give the addict a crutch to get through life, and the longer a person uses the crutch, the more the rest of their faculties atrophy due to lack of use or dependence. A person can become addicted to anything if they let that thing control their desires, dictate how they spend their time, or keep them from doing other things they used to enjoy or taking care of their responsibilities. The phrase "The more _____ you own, the more your _____ owns you" is not just a pithy attack on materialism. When someone goes camping and goes through television withdrawal, it's not just a useful metaphor. I'm not a psychologist, but in my personal experience, if there's anything in your life that you do regularly often without thinking, or because you "can't help yourself," or because you think it makes your life easier/simpler/better, you're forming a habit, and habits can easily become addictions.
The Lord of the Rings was my addiction. It didn't kill me, and I don't even necessarily regret it, but I do sometimes wonder what would have been different about my Junior High and high school experience if I had had a more healthy relationship with the books and movies. The difference, from what I can tell, is in the control. If you honestly determine when, where, and how you do something, if you really can stop any time, then you're in control. The moment you start feeling like you have to, like you can't afford not to, like it would be too hard to not do something, things start getting scary.
Aaaand I just went to the pottermore blog and realized that I didn't have to wake up until 22 minutes ago (it's 8:22 now) because they announced that registration would open sometime between 2 pm and 6 pm BST. Ugh. Obviously, I'm an example of an Internet-Idiot Harry Potter fan. But evidently, those in charge of pottermore don't really want me anyway.
I'm going back to bed. I hope I didn't offend anybody, but if I did, please tell me why. I'm just postulating throughout all of this: as I said, I'm not a psychologist and most of my experience with addiction diseases is second-hand, so I am not an expert.
If, though, you think there are things that control you more than you'd like them to, my amateur suggestion would be to tell someone you believe can help you: not necessarily a friend or family member, but someone you think will have the wisdom and guts to help you work through it. A counsellor, a mentor, a religious leader, a teacher...someone who either knows you or would know how to help you with your situation.
<3 spadeALLcross
EDIT: Wow...this post takes quite the journey. Probably reads a little strangely. I should edit it at some point, and I probably will later.
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movies. Show all posts
19.7.11
The time has come, [the Walrus said]...
It's been a few days since I saw HP 7.2, and I now feel solid enough in my opinion of it to review it. Not in-depth, as I don't think anyone who reads this blog really cares about the play-by-play of a movie they could easily watch themselves, but at least enough to discuss the parts that struck me the most.
WARNING: Spoiler City up in hurr.
I walked into the theater last November for the midnight showing of HP 7.1 with very low expectations. I've been to every midnight showing of a Harry Potter movie since Prisoner of Azkaban as a tradition, but have never actually liked the movies. But after HP 7.1 was over, I was incredibly and pleasantly surprised by its quality. The filmmakers had definitely made choices that I didn't understand, like not including the invisibility cloak, rushing through an introduction of Bill Weasley, and skipping over so much of Harry's Dumbledore-related angst. But the movie did a much better job than its predecessors of staying true to the depth, vision, and feeling of the book. Things were dark, scary, and hopeless, and the comic relief came in short bursts of smiles before nail-biting drama struck again.
So Thursday night, my expectations were high for a Harry Potter film for the first time in seven years. And when the credits rolled, I was less disappointed than I could have been. I think the movie did as good a job adapting the book as it could have, given the circumstances. Ending a series beloved by so many people and trying to include all of the bits that audience would expect--"The Prince's Tale," Molly-Bellatrix dueling scene, Neville's defeat of Nagini, many of the priceless bits of dialogue sprinkled throughout, etc.--while still creating an enjoyable movie that wasn't absolute Hell to sit through is a task that I do not envy.
Because the job was such a hard one, I'm quite happy with the way the movie turned out. It does, however, solidify in my mind that the books outstrip the films in every way that counts.
The movie didn't really include anything about the Hallows at all. It registered their existence and sort of nodded to the fact that Harry possessed all three by the end of the war for Hogwarts, but it didn't show the struggle that Dumbledore had faced, like so many others within and -out of fiction have faced, throughout his life of trying to use them to overcome death. Dumbledore's ascension to the position of Hogwarts' Headmaster and decline of the position of Minister of Magic was hardly mentioned, if at all. Harry's choice not to try to beat Voldemort to Dumbledore's tomb and take the Elder wand didn't happen. Voldemort's fear of death was downplayed in favor of his fear of defeat. These choices changed the entire point of the Harry Potter story. The saga went from a relatable tale of young people overcoming internal and external obstacles by learning to think for themselves while still relying on others, a tale of friendship and bravery, of unity and mutual respect, of trusts lost and regained, to a coming-of-age story that no one can ever identify with, since it's set in a fictional world whose struggles are nothing like ours.
In the first book and movie, Quirrell/Voldemort says, "There is no Good and Evil; there is only power and those too weak to seek it." This is the theme of the Deathly Hallows; the internal battle between action and inaction, the conscious decisions Harry, Dumbledore, and Voldemort each make in their separate quests to "win," and each person's individual definition of what "winning" means.
All three of them have different relationships and responses to power. Voldemort obviously desires to increase his own power. As a child and a student he uses his innately strong magical power to bully and coerce those around him, to make them see how strong he was, to make others see how week they were. He also hones his social power to ensnare people who have more actual authority than he does in order to use their power to his advantage. But the only reason he wants any of this power is his fear of death. He fears the unknown that comes after death, and he spends most of his life ensuring that he will never have to face it. It is his search for ways to overcome death that brought so much of his power, and once he believes he has achieved immortality, he knows that he is better, stronger, smarter than everyone else in the world, including Dumbledore. Because, if anyone else were as talented and as driven as he was, they would have created horcruxes as well, they would have done the things he had done, because death was something everyone feared. How could they not? He could not see any other way of approaching the power he had discovered. He could not see why anyone would not want to live forever. What was the point of a whole and pure soul if it could be destroyed?
Meanwhile, Dumbledore also desires power his whole life. Similar to Voldemort, he sharpens his magic and knowledge from a young age. Perhaps it is Dumbledore's habit of (born out of his opportunities for) relying on other people that allow him to have friends at school who then keep him from becoming the lone-ranger that Voldemort is. Maybe Dumbledore's quest is more for knowledge and study than it is for power. But for whatever reason, Albus gets through school without attempting to take over the world. However, once school is over and his mother's death forces him to settle back in at home to take care of his younger brother and sister, he feels trapped in an inferior life. His belief that he could do more with his talents, should be allowed to move forward, fuels his friendship with Grindelwald, someone who agrees with Albus that he was made for better things. Maybe Gelert has a more straightforward desire for power for the sake of power than Dumbledore does, but Dumbledore, blinded by love and a feeling of partnership he probably didn't feel with anyone else and isn't getting from anyone in his broken family, dares to dream with Grindelwald.
Dumbledore's crippling fear that made him seek power wasn't death, but stagnation, discomfort, and intellectual restraints. Where Voldemort wanted the horcruxes primarily to ensure his eternal existence and only secondarily used the power he had gained from making them to subjugate those he thought were weaker than him, Dumbledore and Grindelwald wanted the Hallows primarily to place their superior intelligence and talent rightly on top where it belong, and only secondarily to allow themselves to live forever.
Albus is shocked out of his desire for power by the loss of his brother, sister, and best friend/boyfriend in one fell blow, and for a while, his fear overshadows his guilt. His grief over his lost loved ones and his knowledge that he is at least partly responsible keeps him from grabbing power where he can. But that fear of discomfort is something he struggles with his entire life, between desiring power over other, lesser people, as he exhibits when he borrows the cloak from James Potter, and wanting power over his grief, as he demonstrates by attempting to bring Ariana and his parents back from the dead with the resurrection stone. But he is always disgusted by his relationship to power, which is why the Elder wand is safe with him. He doesn't trust himself, and he doesn't trust the wand, so he remains headmaster of Hogwarts and keeps his own power and the wand's in check.
Unlike Dumbledore and Voldemort, Harry does not want power. All his life he is powerless, alone, and mistreated, much like Voldemort, but at school, he gains friends and fame, like Dumbledore. His fame does not treat him well; it makes him as many enemies as friends, and it gives him as many problems as solutions. Some of his fame is based on his own talent, and some of his success comes from skill, but he knows that an equal, if not greater amount comes from luck, chance, and the providence of others, and between this knowledge and the pains his fame gives him, he doesn't get as big a head as he could. Instead of focusing on overpowering others, he genuinely tries his best to do what he thinks is right. What he thinks is right is not always the most intelligent course of action, but he is only a teenager, and he is often dealing with the complex power schemes and magic of adults much stronger and smarter than he is. He knows that he isn't good enough to do everything by himself, but he also knows that doing something was too important to leave entirely to someone else. He is the perfect combination of Voldemort and Dumbledore, of relying on himself and relying on others, of choosing to act and choosing to wait, of having a will to live without putting it above everything else. If he has a crippling fear, it is that he was not worth dying for: that his parents and his friends loved him too much and for no reason. Instead of driving him to take power wherever he can find it, his fear dives him to be the best person possible, fighting for the best causes he finds. His fear makes him constantly reevaluate his actions and his goals, to know himself...something Dumbledore learned too late, and Voldemort never learned at all. Because of this, he gets all three Hallows and learns what it really means to be Master of Death. Not to live forever, but to embrace the inevitable end, to know that it's coming, and to not fight it once it arrives.
So many themes regarding life and what it means to be human float in and out of Harry Potter: persistence in the face of overwhelming adversity, unlikely forgiveness, the importance of friendship, the need for humility, and so on and so forth. A lot of them feel cliché when said aloud, which is probably why people call Harry Potter fans "nerds." The story is a coming-of-age adventure; how could it not be with a group of adolescents as the protagonists? But its fan base is proof that its characters and plots speak to more than just adolescents and that the series is more than a mere didactic fairy tale about the ideal human being.
The major overarching theme of the whole series is not cliché or nerdy, but a real question that people ask themselves constantly, whether they take note of it or not. The theme is expressed in that striking quote of Quirrell's: "There is no Good and Evil; there is only power and those too week to seek it." The question Harry Potter asks is whether Good seeks power, and whether not seeking power is a weakness. Harry, Dumbledore, and Voldemort represent three case studies in dealing with power that can show us our own feelings about the subject.
But the movies do not focus on that aspect of the books. It makes sense that they wouldn't: in order to do so, all of the movies would have had to have been much longer and probably would have included more scenes of exposition and talking than of action and excitement, and that's not exactly what a movie is best at. As it is, the movies portray a good story about children becoming adults and overcoming the obstacles their parents and mentors could not.
So, while I certainly can't say I love the movies as much as I love the books, I'm not surprised or upset by their inability to match up with each other. When I drink whiskey, I drink whiskey, and when I drink water, I drink water.
And I'm sad that Harry Potter is officially over, but I can't afford to care too much for too long. Everyone has different experiences with literature, and I have confidence in mine and shouldn't worry for anyone else's, since I can't control it anyway.
Here's to you, Harry. And here's to many happy years of your own immortality, one you gained without Hallows, without Horcruxes.
Now...if only Hogwarts were real...
<3 spadeALlcross
WARNING: Spoiler City up in hurr.
I walked into the theater last November for the midnight showing of HP 7.1 with very low expectations. I've been to every midnight showing of a Harry Potter movie since Prisoner of Azkaban as a tradition, but have never actually liked the movies. But after HP 7.1 was over, I was incredibly and pleasantly surprised by its quality. The filmmakers had definitely made choices that I didn't understand, like not including the invisibility cloak, rushing through an introduction of Bill Weasley, and skipping over so much of Harry's Dumbledore-related angst. But the movie did a much better job than its predecessors of staying true to the depth, vision, and feeling of the book. Things were dark, scary, and hopeless, and the comic relief came in short bursts of smiles before nail-biting drama struck again.
So Thursday night, my expectations were high for a Harry Potter film for the first time in seven years. And when the credits rolled, I was less disappointed than I could have been. I think the movie did as good a job adapting the book as it could have, given the circumstances. Ending a series beloved by so many people and trying to include all of the bits that audience would expect--"The Prince's Tale," Molly-Bellatrix dueling scene, Neville's defeat of Nagini, many of the priceless bits of dialogue sprinkled throughout, etc.--while still creating an enjoyable movie that wasn't absolute Hell to sit through is a task that I do not envy.
Because the job was such a hard one, I'm quite happy with the way the movie turned out. It does, however, solidify in my mind that the books outstrip the films in every way that counts.
The movie didn't really include anything about the Hallows at all. It registered their existence and sort of nodded to the fact that Harry possessed all three by the end of the war for Hogwarts, but it didn't show the struggle that Dumbledore had faced, like so many others within and -out of fiction have faced, throughout his life of trying to use them to overcome death. Dumbledore's ascension to the position of Hogwarts' Headmaster and decline of the position of Minister of Magic was hardly mentioned, if at all. Harry's choice not to try to beat Voldemort to Dumbledore's tomb and take the Elder wand didn't happen. Voldemort's fear of death was downplayed in favor of his fear of defeat. These choices changed the entire point of the Harry Potter story. The saga went from a relatable tale of young people overcoming internal and external obstacles by learning to think for themselves while still relying on others, a tale of friendship and bravery, of unity and mutual respect, of trusts lost and regained, to a coming-of-age story that no one can ever identify with, since it's set in a fictional world whose struggles are nothing like ours.
In the first book and movie, Quirrell/Voldemort says, "There is no Good and Evil; there is only power and those too weak to seek it." This is the theme of the Deathly Hallows; the internal battle between action and inaction, the conscious decisions Harry, Dumbledore, and Voldemort each make in their separate quests to "win," and each person's individual definition of what "winning" means.
All three of them have different relationships and responses to power. Voldemort obviously desires to increase his own power. As a child and a student he uses his innately strong magical power to bully and coerce those around him, to make them see how strong he was, to make others see how week they were. He also hones his social power to ensnare people who have more actual authority than he does in order to use their power to his advantage. But the only reason he wants any of this power is his fear of death. He fears the unknown that comes after death, and he spends most of his life ensuring that he will never have to face it. It is his search for ways to overcome death that brought so much of his power, and once he believes he has achieved immortality, he knows that he is better, stronger, smarter than everyone else in the world, including Dumbledore. Because, if anyone else were as talented and as driven as he was, they would have created horcruxes as well, they would have done the things he had done, because death was something everyone feared. How could they not? He could not see any other way of approaching the power he had discovered. He could not see why anyone would not want to live forever. What was the point of a whole and pure soul if it could be destroyed?
Meanwhile, Dumbledore also desires power his whole life. Similar to Voldemort, he sharpens his magic and knowledge from a young age. Perhaps it is Dumbledore's habit of (born out of his opportunities for) relying on other people that allow him to have friends at school who then keep him from becoming the lone-ranger that Voldemort is. Maybe Dumbledore's quest is more for knowledge and study than it is for power. But for whatever reason, Albus gets through school without attempting to take over the world. However, once school is over and his mother's death forces him to settle back in at home to take care of his younger brother and sister, he feels trapped in an inferior life. His belief that he could do more with his talents, should be allowed to move forward, fuels his friendship with Grindelwald, someone who agrees with Albus that he was made for better things. Maybe Gelert has a more straightforward desire for power for the sake of power than Dumbledore does, but Dumbledore, blinded by love and a feeling of partnership he probably didn't feel with anyone else and isn't getting from anyone in his broken family, dares to dream with Grindelwald.
Dumbledore's crippling fear that made him seek power wasn't death, but stagnation, discomfort, and intellectual restraints. Where Voldemort wanted the horcruxes primarily to ensure his eternal existence and only secondarily used the power he had gained from making them to subjugate those he thought were weaker than him, Dumbledore and Grindelwald wanted the Hallows primarily to place their superior intelligence and talent rightly on top where it belong, and only secondarily to allow themselves to live forever.
Albus is shocked out of his desire for power by the loss of his brother, sister, and best friend/boyfriend in one fell blow, and for a while, his fear overshadows his guilt. His grief over his lost loved ones and his knowledge that he is at least partly responsible keeps him from grabbing power where he can. But that fear of discomfort is something he struggles with his entire life, between desiring power over other, lesser people, as he exhibits when he borrows the cloak from James Potter, and wanting power over his grief, as he demonstrates by attempting to bring Ariana and his parents back from the dead with the resurrection stone. But he is always disgusted by his relationship to power, which is why the Elder wand is safe with him. He doesn't trust himself, and he doesn't trust the wand, so he remains headmaster of Hogwarts and keeps his own power and the wand's in check.
Unlike Dumbledore and Voldemort, Harry does not want power. All his life he is powerless, alone, and mistreated, much like Voldemort, but at school, he gains friends and fame, like Dumbledore. His fame does not treat him well; it makes him as many enemies as friends, and it gives him as many problems as solutions. Some of his fame is based on his own talent, and some of his success comes from skill, but he knows that an equal, if not greater amount comes from luck, chance, and the providence of others, and between this knowledge and the pains his fame gives him, he doesn't get as big a head as he could. Instead of focusing on overpowering others, he genuinely tries his best to do what he thinks is right. What he thinks is right is not always the most intelligent course of action, but he is only a teenager, and he is often dealing with the complex power schemes and magic of adults much stronger and smarter than he is. He knows that he isn't good enough to do everything by himself, but he also knows that doing something was too important to leave entirely to someone else. He is the perfect combination of Voldemort and Dumbledore, of relying on himself and relying on others, of choosing to act and choosing to wait, of having a will to live without putting it above everything else. If he has a crippling fear, it is that he was not worth dying for: that his parents and his friends loved him too much and for no reason. Instead of driving him to take power wherever he can find it, his fear dives him to be the best person possible, fighting for the best causes he finds. His fear makes him constantly reevaluate his actions and his goals, to know himself...something Dumbledore learned too late, and Voldemort never learned at all. Because of this, he gets all three Hallows and learns what it really means to be Master of Death. Not to live forever, but to embrace the inevitable end, to know that it's coming, and to not fight it once it arrives.
So many themes regarding life and what it means to be human float in and out of Harry Potter: persistence in the face of overwhelming adversity, unlikely forgiveness, the importance of friendship, the need for humility, and so on and so forth. A lot of them feel cliché when said aloud, which is probably why people call Harry Potter fans "nerds." The story is a coming-of-age adventure; how could it not be with a group of adolescents as the protagonists? But its fan base is proof that its characters and plots speak to more than just adolescents and that the series is more than a mere didactic fairy tale about the ideal human being.
The major overarching theme of the whole series is not cliché or nerdy, but a real question that people ask themselves constantly, whether they take note of it or not. The theme is expressed in that striking quote of Quirrell's: "There is no Good and Evil; there is only power and those too week to seek it." The question Harry Potter asks is whether Good seeks power, and whether not seeking power is a weakness. Harry, Dumbledore, and Voldemort represent three case studies in dealing with power that can show us our own feelings about the subject.
But the movies do not focus on that aspect of the books. It makes sense that they wouldn't: in order to do so, all of the movies would have had to have been much longer and probably would have included more scenes of exposition and talking than of action and excitement, and that's not exactly what a movie is best at. As it is, the movies portray a good story about children becoming adults and overcoming the obstacles their parents and mentors could not.
So, while I certainly can't say I love the movies as much as I love the books, I'm not surprised or upset by their inability to match up with each other. When I drink whiskey, I drink whiskey, and when I drink water, I drink water.
And I'm sad that Harry Potter is officially over, but I can't afford to care too much for too long. Everyone has different experiences with literature, and I have confidence in mine and shouldn't worry for anyone else's, since I can't control it anyway.
Here's to you, Harry. And here's to many happy years of your own immortality, one you gained without Hallows, without Horcruxes.
Now...if only Hogwarts were real...
<3 spadeALlcross
14.7.11
Today is Slytherin Day!
I must confess, I have a huge soft spot for Slytherin, and I can't really explain why. Severus Snape is one of the most complex and exciting characters I've encountered, especially in young-adult-style literature, and I really like what J.K. Rowling did with him throughout the series. Perhaps this explains my love for Slytherin. Because I am certainly no Death-Eater.
So today I was Snape. Obviously.
Status:
"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.
"Yes," said Snape quietly.
"But you were unsuccessful?"
Snape's lip curled.
"Obviously."
Caption:
"After all this time?"
"Always."
And now, my outfit.
I choose to portray Slytherins, the ambitious little buggers, as business-extremely-casual. I have a forest green men's button-down from Salvation Army as well as a green tie, and I'm wearing a grey ribbed tank under it. I would wear slacks or something, but it's way too hot outside. I used to have a silver snake ring that I would wear, but I think I gave it to a friend.
Tonight's the big night. I'm not wearing this outfit for that (I'm representing all four houses instead) and I guess I might update you on what I do wear, but probably not because it's nothing special.
Wish me luck!
<3 spadeALLcross
So today I was Snape. Obviously.
Status:
"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.
"Yes," said Snape quietly.
"But you were unsuccessful?"
Snape's lip curled.
"Obviously."
Caption:
"After all this time?"
"Always."
And now, my outfit.
I choose to portray Slytherins, the ambitious little buggers, as business-extremely-casual. I have a forest green men's button-down from Salvation Army as well as a green tie, and I'm wearing a grey ribbed tank under it. I would wear slacks or something, but it's way too hot outside. I used to have a silver snake ring that I would wear, but I think I gave it to a friend.
Tonight's the big night. I'm not wearing this outfit for that (I'm representing all four houses instead) and I guess I might update you on what I do wear, but probably not because it's nothing special.
Wish me luck!
<3 spadeALLcross
13.7.11
Today is Hufflepuff Day!
I have complained openly to many people about how I think Hufflepuff is the house for die Reste, the place where you go when you're not smart enough for Ravenclaw, not brave enough for Gryffindor, and not ambitious enough for Slytherin, but too wizard to stay home.
But, over the course of this past year, I've reread all of the books in a row, and I've learned something: Hufflepuffs are the activists. The environmentalists, the inner-city teachers, the social workers. They're hardworkers, and they're just and fair. They'll do anything they can to stand up for a cause they believe in. And they probably will put two and two together fast enough to realize that it's smarter to live for a cause than to die for one if you can help it, unlike some Gryffindors.
Maybe I'm overblowing it. They are all under 17, after all. But they're not as bad as I made them out to be before.
Anyway, there aren't many Hufflepuffs I idolize (I didn't even swoon over Cedric. Sorry.) and I had already picked Dumbledore to represent today, which is okay, because he's a headmaster: he can represent any of the houses. Wild card. Woo.
Caption: "In fact, being - forgive me - rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger."
Status: "I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment, but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."
I actually had a ton more quotes I wanted to find some way to use--
Well – it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to – what is the phrase – 'Come quietly.' I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course – but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing.
"I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. "I am with you."
"What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally the whole school knows."
“Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?”
“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”
And next, my outfit.
Hufflepuff is yellow and black. So far, my least favorite color combination, but I still think it works pretty well. The shirt is something from LOFT...or at least, that's what the tag says. I bought if from a thrift store. Shorts are black and from Primark. Necklace is from Modcloth. Jubilant expression is from me feeling awkward in front of a camera, trying to squish my whole body in there.
Tomorrow is the big day, guys. The big day. Good luck, God bless, and I'll see you when I see you.
<3 spadeALLcross
But, over the course of this past year, I've reread all of the books in a row, and I've learned something: Hufflepuffs are the activists. The environmentalists, the inner-city teachers, the social workers. They're hardworkers, and they're just and fair. They'll do anything they can to stand up for a cause they believe in. And they probably will put two and two together fast enough to realize that it's smarter to live for a cause than to die for one if you can help it, unlike some Gryffindors.
Maybe I'm overblowing it. They are all under 17, after all. But they're not as bad as I made them out to be before.
Anyway, there aren't many Hufflepuffs I idolize (I didn't even swoon over Cedric. Sorry.) and I had already picked Dumbledore to represent today, which is okay, because he's a headmaster: he can represent any of the houses. Wild card. Woo.
Caption: "In fact, being - forgive me - rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger."
Status: "I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment, but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."
I actually had a ton more quotes I wanted to find some way to use--
Well – it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to – what is the phrase – 'Come quietly.' I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course – but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing.
"I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. "I am with you."
"What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally the whole school knows."
“Tell me one last thing,” said Harry. “Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?”
“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”
And next, my outfit.
Hufflepuff is yellow and black. So far, my least favorite color combination, but I still think it works pretty well. The shirt is something from LOFT...or at least, that's what the tag says. I bought if from a thrift store. Shorts are black and from Primark. Necklace is from Modcloth. Jubilant expression is from me feeling awkward in front of a camera, trying to squish my whole body in there.
Tomorrow is the big day, guys. The big day. Good luck, God bless, and I'll see you when I see you.
<3 spadeALLcross
12.7.11
Today is Gryffindor Day!
I thought I wasn't going to like this day. I don't really like Gryffindor. They're dumb a lot. Honor and glory and stuff, you know? Those kinds of people get on my nerves. I am that kind of person a lot, and I get annoyed at my idiocy.
But then I remembered that Hermione was almost a Ravenclaw, and I remembered what the Sorting Hat said about how sorting isn't always a good thing, because severing ties so thoroughly is dangerous, and I remembered that there's probably a little bit of every house in every person, and I grew to love Gryffindor more...
...but mostly I just remembered that I like Hermione a lot. She's one of my heros. Also, I have a fair bit of Maroon and Gold to use today.
So, facebook = Hermione today. Caption = "You said to us once before that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?" (Oh man, Hermione's so hard core...) Status = "Imagine losing fingernails, Harry! That really puts our sufferings into perspective, doesn't it?" (Oh man, Hermione flips a shit so well...)
And my outfit.
I think of Gryffindors as world-traveller types, thrill seekers, and people who fancy themselves bad-asses, whether they actually are or not. But maybe that's just me...
This Gryffindor is also, as it happens, rather thrifty. The t-shirt is just a maroon shirt I picked up from the dollar store for the fabric, originally, and then never got around to using it. The yellow vest is a second-hand store find. The lightning necklace was 79p at a flea market in Leeds, the headband was £1 at a going-out-of-business sale in Edinburgh, the shorts are from Primark (the ones I mentioned yesterday, actually) and the glasses I stole from my cousin. The Anchor necklace, though, I bought a couple years ago from Modcloth. I thought it would add to the Magellan Chic look I was going for.
Envy me and my fashion sense. You know you do.
Until tomorrow!
<3 spadeALLcross
P.S. I am really enjoying myself here. Please tell me what you think of my choices...and if you want, tell me how you're celebrating!
But then I remembered that Hermione was almost a Ravenclaw, and I remembered what the Sorting Hat said about how sorting isn't always a good thing, because severing ties so thoroughly is dangerous, and I remembered that there's probably a little bit of every house in every person, and I grew to love Gryffindor more...
...but mostly I just remembered that I like Hermione a lot. She's one of my heros. Also, I have a fair bit of Maroon and Gold to use today.
So, facebook = Hermione today. Caption = "You said to us once before that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?" (Oh man, Hermione's so hard core...) Status = "Imagine losing fingernails, Harry! That really puts our sufferings into perspective, doesn't it?" (Oh man, Hermione flips a shit so well...)
And my outfit.
I think of Gryffindors as world-traveller types, thrill seekers, and people who fancy themselves bad-asses, whether they actually are or not. But maybe that's just me...
This Gryffindor is also, as it happens, rather thrifty. The t-shirt is just a maroon shirt I picked up from the dollar store for the fabric, originally, and then never got around to using it. The yellow vest is a second-hand store find. The lightning necklace was 79p at a flea market in Leeds, the headband was £1 at a going-out-of-business sale in Edinburgh, the shorts are from Primark (the ones I mentioned yesterday, actually) and the glasses I stole from my cousin. The Anchor necklace, though, I bought a couple years ago from Modcloth. I thought it would add to the Magellan Chic look I was going for.
Envy me and my fashion sense. You know you do.
Until tomorrow!
<3 spadeALLcross
P.S. I am really enjoying myself here. Please tell me what you think of my choices...and if you want, tell me how you're celebrating!
10.7.11
The last week of our lives...
Okay, so maybe that's a bit dramatic. But this does feel like a momentous week for me. Why?
Harry Potter 7.2 comes out on Friday. And then, besides the enigmatic pottermore, there will be nothing new that is Harry for the rest of my forseeable life. Some people reading this are rolling their eyes: Mary, it's just a book series. There are hundreds of thousands of millions. Just pick up a new one. And to those people, I say, I have. No, my life is not ending, and books are not ruined for me forever (thank God...as they are my livelihood at this point). But this is like...a symbol. My childhood is over.
I'm 21. I guess I should have seen this coming.
But when I went to the 4th of July carnival in my town this year and rode all the rides I wanted to in under an hour...or when I went with my best friend to Great America last year and took a nap in the parking lot...or when I bought a friggin' mutual fund...it became more real than it was when I blew out those 18 candles or recovered from my first hangover or had to start going to the grocery store by myself. Adulthood requires new forms of fun, it has its own new challenges, new temptations, new disappointments. Just when I was getting the hang of the old ones.
And Harry Potter's vanishing into the void of literary and cinematic used-to-be is the most painful and final reminder of all these changes.
Because Harry was my childhood. I went to see the first movie for my 11th birthday party. I was seventeen when I read the final book. I was Harry Potter for Halloween in fourth grade. I've gone to the midnight showings of every movie since The Prisoner of Azkaban, even though I didn't like the movies until 7.1 came out last November.
So naturally, I'm a little vexed by default.
But I've decided that, instead of mourning a loss, (which is dumb, because I'm not actually losing anything: I mean, I wasn't in the movies, they weren't paying my salary or anything. In fact, I'm probably gaining a lot of money, since I will be spending less on Harry Potter miscellany) I'm going to celebrate hard and happy and not miss a minute of it.
So, starting tomorrow, I'm doing my four-day countdown of my favorite characters on Facebook, using their Leaky widgets (by Makani) as my profile pictures, their best quotes as my status, and their house colors as my wardrobe. I'm also listening to my meager supply of Harry-Potter-esque music, which is comprised of Draco and the Malfoys, Harry and the Potters, Hank Green, and Jim Dale from the audiobooks, as well as two versions of one gem.
Tune in tomorrow for pictures and smiles!
<3 spadeALLcross
P.S. Oh, were you wondering if I was just going to ignore the past two months or whatever that I didn't post, and the fact that I didn't even finish my Easter Holiday blogs? Why yes, yes I was. Thanks for your concern.
Harry Potter 7.2 comes out on Friday. And then, besides the enigmatic pottermore, there will be nothing new that is Harry for the rest of my forseeable life. Some people reading this are rolling their eyes: Mary, it's just a book series. There are hundreds of thousands of millions. Just pick up a new one. And to those people, I say, I have. No, my life is not ending, and books are not ruined for me forever (thank God...as they are my livelihood at this point). But this is like...a symbol. My childhood is over.
I'm 21. I guess I should have seen this coming.
But when I went to the 4th of July carnival in my town this year and rode all the rides I wanted to in under an hour...or when I went with my best friend to Great America last year and took a nap in the parking lot...or when I bought a friggin' mutual fund...it became more real than it was when I blew out those 18 candles or recovered from my first hangover or had to start going to the grocery store by myself. Adulthood requires new forms of fun, it has its own new challenges, new temptations, new disappointments. Just when I was getting the hang of the old ones.
And Harry Potter's vanishing into the void of literary and cinematic used-to-be is the most painful and final reminder of all these changes.
Because Harry was my childhood. I went to see the first movie for my 11th birthday party. I was seventeen when I read the final book. I was Harry Potter for Halloween in fourth grade. I've gone to the midnight showings of every movie since The Prisoner of Azkaban, even though I didn't like the movies until 7.1 came out last November.
So naturally, I'm a little vexed by default.
But I've decided that, instead of mourning a loss, (which is dumb, because I'm not actually losing anything: I mean, I wasn't in the movies, they weren't paying my salary or anything. In fact, I'm probably gaining a lot of money, since I will be spending less on Harry Potter miscellany) I'm going to celebrate hard and happy and not miss a minute of it.
So, starting tomorrow, I'm doing my four-day countdown of my favorite characters on Facebook, using their Leaky widgets (by Makani) as my profile pictures, their best quotes as my status, and their house colors as my wardrobe. I'm also listening to my meager supply of Harry-Potter-esque music, which is comprised of Draco and the Malfoys, Harry and the Potters, Hank Green, and Jim Dale from the audiobooks, as well as two versions of one gem.
Tune in tomorrow for pictures and smiles!
<3 spadeALLcross
P.S. Oh, were you wondering if I was just going to ignore the past two months or whatever that I didn't post, and the fact that I didn't even finish my Easter Holiday blogs? Why yes, yes I was. Thanks for your concern.
11.3.11
Here we are now, entertain us...
Sorry about the lack of post last week. Aren't you glad I was moved enough by my church service to post twice the week before?
I've been keeping two journals for my entire trip: one imposed by myself (in order to facilitate the recollection of fond memories and because I find that I am less likely to let days slip away from me if I have to own up to my own listlessness at the end of the day by writing it down) and one imposed by my Calvin professor to prove that I'm learning something while here.
In both of these, I sometimes write very interesting things (if I do say so myself) so I think I'll put some here for your perusal. That way you don't have to put up with another itemized list of my week's adventures, but can instead enjoy a magnified bit of my life from one or two days that I found important.
Enjoy!
25th February, 2011
Tonight at the Bratts’, we watched The Young Victoria. Its main focus is the romance between Victoria and Albert, their courtship and early marriage, and how Victoria overcame the trials of her childhood only with Albert’s help.
A lot of the movie romanticized a life that was quite a bit more depressing than Hollywood would like it to be—the industrial revolution in England was a heartrending time for the people, and Albert’s early death, and the early deaths of many of their children were nigh unbearable for Victoria herself. But from what I’ve learned, Victoria and Albert were at least very close to being as much in love as the movie portrays, and they probably had something very similar to the courtship shown in the movie.
To think about that made me wonder about relationships today and how everyone pushes for compatibility while Victoria and Albert met twice and exchanged tons of letters before they decided to get married. How could they have known how compatible they were?
Maybe we should all care more about finding someone we love and learning, through patience, faith, and practice, to love the parts of them that don’t quite mesh with our own. There’s a minimum of compatibility that needs to be reached, a happy medium that must be struck, but maybe searching for perfect every time is just selfish and, ultimately, unsatisfying. What is life, and also love, if it does not involve conflict and resolution, as well as constant reform?
26th February, 2011
We went to Fountains Abbey today, the ruins of the richest Abbey in England before the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII. In the 19th century, the lord of the neighboring estate took up gardening to pass the time, made the beautiful water gardens that are there now, and his son bought the ruined abbey to complete the picturesque landscape.
It was a gorgeous, warm, sunny day, perfect for wandering the grounds, and I was completely swept up in the place. I climbed trees and rocks and up muddy embankments and tried to walk over waterfalls…it brought out so much of an old, lost version of myself that has been lying dormant since early in high school. The me of my childhood that loved camping for the sake of playing in dirt, and who wanted to sit on the bank of every river and dip her feet in. Fountains made me miss my old spring breaks spent in Eagle Rock, Missouri growing up. Some of my fondest memories come from those trips, when the leaves were first beginning to turn, and the sun would work to burn through the clouds each morning, having just enough energy afterwards to keep the day moderately warm.
I’m finding that a lot with travel in England; it is turning me into a new person; a more culturally aware person, but also a more self-aware person. A person who knows who she is and all of what she can be, and is seeking to reconcile those two beings. England has taught me a lot about the world and about myself, and the sunlight and water sounds at Fountains Abbey helped me to actually feel that for the first time.
10 March, 2011
Yesterday, Josh D, Abby, Gabe, and I went to All Saints Church just before their Ash Wednesday service to look into doing it for our upcoming museum reports. The church building itself was a bit smaller than St. T’s and the congregation was significantly smaller—however, this being a midweek and seasonal service, and with there being the option of an Ash Wednesday service later that night, there was no way of telling how large the actual full congregation would be.
We walked in to look around, and a man at the back of the church who was sitting, waiting for the service to begin noticed us with our cameras and notebooks, and just stood up and gave us a sort of impromptu tour, delineating for us the whole history of the building, from the Medieval times all the way up to a fire in the 1950s and the beginning of his own attendance, some fifty years ago.
That’s something I’m noticing in England, and I don’t know if it’s just me or of it’s an actual cultural difference: people seem to have a better grasp on history, especially the general history of their country dating back to antiquity, but also specific histories of important buildings and cultures within their country. I don’t know how true this is of the younger people (although my flatmate who’s from Colchester did learn about Boudica in primary school and recalled making a portrait of her out of macaroni noodles on paper) but many of the older people are able to recount events from the Medieval times and earlier, specific details about the Minster and even Eboracum. I don’t even know when my hometown was founded, and I often forget that the Articles of Confederation ever existed.
It seems counter intuitive that people whose country has millennia worth of history have less trouble recounting it than people whose country is less than three-hundred years old, but that is a trend I’ve been noticing.
In other news, I posted a new snidget today. If you missed last weeks...don't worry about it. Not much to see there.
Have a stupendous weekend.
<3 spadeALLcross
I've been keeping two journals for my entire trip: one imposed by myself (in order to facilitate the recollection of fond memories and because I find that I am less likely to let days slip away from me if I have to own up to my own listlessness at the end of the day by writing it down) and one imposed by my Calvin professor to prove that I'm learning something while here.
In both of these, I sometimes write very interesting things (if I do say so myself) so I think I'll put some here for your perusal. That way you don't have to put up with another itemized list of my week's adventures, but can instead enjoy a magnified bit of my life from one or two days that I found important.
Enjoy!
25th February, 2011
Tonight at the Bratts’, we watched The Young Victoria. Its main focus is the romance between Victoria and Albert, their courtship and early marriage, and how Victoria overcame the trials of her childhood only with Albert’s help.
A lot of the movie romanticized a life that was quite a bit more depressing than Hollywood would like it to be—the industrial revolution in England was a heartrending time for the people, and Albert’s early death, and the early deaths of many of their children were nigh unbearable for Victoria herself. But from what I’ve learned, Victoria and Albert were at least very close to being as much in love as the movie portrays, and they probably had something very similar to the courtship shown in the movie.
To think about that made me wonder about relationships today and how everyone pushes for compatibility while Victoria and Albert met twice and exchanged tons of letters before they decided to get married. How could they have known how compatible they were?
Maybe we should all care more about finding someone we love and learning, through patience, faith, and practice, to love the parts of them that don’t quite mesh with our own. There’s a minimum of compatibility that needs to be reached, a happy medium that must be struck, but maybe searching for perfect every time is just selfish and, ultimately, unsatisfying. What is life, and also love, if it does not involve conflict and resolution, as well as constant reform?
26th February, 2011
We went to Fountains Abbey today, the ruins of the richest Abbey in England before the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII. In the 19th century, the lord of the neighboring estate took up gardening to pass the time, made the beautiful water gardens that are there now, and his son bought the ruined abbey to complete the picturesque landscape.
It was a gorgeous, warm, sunny day, perfect for wandering the grounds, and I was completely swept up in the place. I climbed trees and rocks and up muddy embankments and tried to walk over waterfalls…it brought out so much of an old, lost version of myself that has been lying dormant since early in high school. The me of my childhood that loved camping for the sake of playing in dirt, and who wanted to sit on the bank of every river and dip her feet in. Fountains made me miss my old spring breaks spent in Eagle Rock, Missouri growing up. Some of my fondest memories come from those trips, when the leaves were first beginning to turn, and the sun would work to burn through the clouds each morning, having just enough energy afterwards to keep the day moderately warm.
I’m finding that a lot with travel in England; it is turning me into a new person; a more culturally aware person, but also a more self-aware person. A person who knows who she is and all of what she can be, and is seeking to reconcile those two beings. England has taught me a lot about the world and about myself, and the sunlight and water sounds at Fountains Abbey helped me to actually feel that for the first time.
10 March, 2011
Yesterday, Josh D, Abby, Gabe, and I went to All Saints Church just before their Ash Wednesday service to look into doing it for our upcoming museum reports. The church building itself was a bit smaller than St. T’s and the congregation was significantly smaller—however, this being a midweek and seasonal service, and with there being the option of an Ash Wednesday service later that night, there was no way of telling how large the actual full congregation would be.
We walked in to look around, and a man at the back of the church who was sitting, waiting for the service to begin noticed us with our cameras and notebooks, and just stood up and gave us a sort of impromptu tour, delineating for us the whole history of the building, from the Medieval times all the way up to a fire in the 1950s and the beginning of his own attendance, some fifty years ago.
That’s something I’m noticing in England, and I don’t know if it’s just me or of it’s an actual cultural difference: people seem to have a better grasp on history, especially the general history of their country dating back to antiquity, but also specific histories of important buildings and cultures within their country. I don’t know how true this is of the younger people (although my flatmate who’s from Colchester did learn about Boudica in primary school and recalled making a portrait of her out of macaroni noodles on paper) but many of the older people are able to recount events from the Medieval times and earlier, specific details about the Minster and even Eboracum. I don’t even know when my hometown was founded, and I often forget that the Articles of Confederation ever existed.
It seems counter intuitive that people whose country has millennia worth of history have less trouble recounting it than people whose country is less than three-hundred years old, but that is a trend I’ve been noticing.
In other news, I posted a new snidget today. If you missed last weeks...don't worry about it. Not much to see there.
Have a stupendous weekend.
<3 spadeALLcross
25.2.11
How much is that doggy in the window?
Happy Friday, World!
This week has been a blur...I don't really know where it went. But there were some definite highlights, so I'll just hit those up and let you go on your way.
Saturday, as I mentioned before, we went to Cambridge with the York St. John University international department. We met up with Paul Chaplin, my RA from last year, who's been living there for five months, and he showed us around. It was a great day, even though it was raining and freezing and I was wearing precisely the wrong shoes for walking around (I'd woken up five minutes after I was supposed to leave to catch the bus, thanks to my alarm clock being analogue and in Roman numerals...).
Sunday was church at St. Thomas with St. Maurice. I love that church so much. I wish I could take it with me back to the states.
After church five of us went to the Bratts' house for Sunday dinner/lunch. So much food. So much delicious food. And I love those people. Such a good day.
A little while after that was tea and toast (a fortnightly tradition at St. T's) which was mostly inhabited by Calvin students, but it was great to talk to everyone about their spring break plans, and talk to Stephen, Laura, and Hannah, who go to St. T's and organized the event. Stephen used to work on the railways before he became a vicar, I guess, and he has some great stories about the old steam trains (including the Hogwarts Express! He rode the real thing!) and is generally just a great and funny guy.
Monday, we went to Leeds. [Insert excitement here.] It was fun, but I'm kind of sick of talking about it. We saw the Royal Armoury Museum and the Leeds Art Museum, which were fun to see in conjunction with each other, because there was some interesting overlap between the wartime exhibits in the art museum and the parallel exhibits in the Royal Armoury. And both were free. Brilliant.
Tuesday...Wednesday...
Thursday! (This one's a long one...)
A bunch of us went to the National Railway Museum on Tuesday to ride the Hogwarts Express (just the engine was available, since the cars are just regular steam-engine cars, as I understand it), and while we were there, we saw that they had actors dressed up as Harry, Hagrid, and Dumbledore. We didn't manage to get pictures with them, and some people had to leave to be on time for a meeting, so we left without any bounty.
But Lea and I weren't done trying. We went back Thursday morning specifically to get pictures with Harry. That's right; it's a half-hour walk one-way, plus we didn't know how long we'd have to wait for him...you only wish you were this hard core of a fan...of HP impersonators...
We got there around 10:30 because we knew that he would be in the 11:00 magic show and we didn't know if he'd be available for that first bit. Turns out he wasn't, so Lea and I just hung around awkwardly, making jokes about how awkward we felt because this whole NRM wizard week was meant for primary school children on half-term holiday, and there we were, 19 and 21 years old, more excited about this than those kids, just because we wanted to take a picture with a guy who marginally resembled the guy who plays Harry Potter in the movies.
[The Magic show was awful. Totally bastardized all the HP themes, made a fool out of Dumbledore, and made up all sorts of lies about Hogwarts and Muggle-Magic relations. Very not okay.] Then, after the show, the actors said they'd be right back to take pictures with people. This was around 11:20. From 11:25 to 12:00, we stalked Harry. Hard core (parkour! almost...).
[When they came back, Dumbledore was first, and he sot of knocked over the rope line around the little stage right next to where Lea and I were standing--everyone else had left--and he looked at us and said, "That's the Domino theory for you. Except worse." It was funny, but his voice was kind of creepy...] Harry Came out eventually, and we just stared at him. Neither of us had the guts to ask him for a picture, so we were just staring. [He asked if we were using "Muggle image capturing devices." Wtf? Harry was raised by muggles. He knows what cameras are...] He told Lea she looked like a Weasley. Then he walked into the throng of children that had swarmed up behind us. Lea and I, kicking ourselves for not being Gryffindors, followed him as best we could. After a few moments, though, they said they had to go to the other end of the museum. So they cut through the narrow path through the diner that stood in the middle of the room between Queen Victoria's train and a train marked "Winston Churchill" (whether it was his or not, I do not know).
The crowd of children was following them, so Lea and I made to cut around the diner. As Harry Cut in front of us, he looked at us and said, "There are two girls who look just like you back there." We started cracking up. I felt so silly, but it was such a good feeling to laugh at myself for doing something stupid because of a book I've loved for half of my life. I don't know how to explain it...
We walked around the side of the diner, which had half walls with frosted glass at the top that were just at the right height to make it look like we were trying to be sneaky. We probably looked like such creepers as we kept perfect pace with Harry. Once we got to the end, they started taking pictures again, and we tried to get in, but were too cowradly. After a moment, they started working their way back through the diner, so we walked around again, crossed paths yet again, and got funny looks from Harry and Dumbledore. Once they reached the platform stage thing again, they climbed up and started posing. So dumb. Weird looking, too. Like synchronized slow-motion disco.
Then finally, as they made to walk outside, Lea and I both, at least, managed to yell, "Harry! Can we get pictures?" He said, "Sure, just follow us." So we did.
Out into the sunlight, onto the platform of the Hogwarts express, where we finally got our pictures. There were still crowds trying to get pictures with them, but Harry pointed at us and said, "These girls have been following us for a long time." Facepalm. As I took Lea's picture, Dumbledore asked her, "Where are you from?"
"Michigan."
"Oh, that's a long way to travel by broomstick."
Best. Morning. Ever.
Later that night, I made scrumptious homemade mac and cheese using real cheeses, mushrooms, onions, garlic, oregano...ahhhh. There's some left over that I'm having for dinner. I'm exited about that.
And last thing...I cut my own hair. Below is my demonstration of what it looks like.
Tomorrow, we're going to Fountains Abbey and Ripon. And next Thursday, Katri's coming!
There is so much to love about this world. Being this far away from the people and things that I care about, from everything that's familiar, and watching other people's lives unfold without me while I sit in England, feeling like I'm not doing enough to experience the culture...there have been a lot of downer times. With everything awful that's been going on in the world recently, in New Zealand, Libya, Egypt, and daily awfulness that happens everywhere, it's been so easy to see the terrible. Life has never been a squeefest. But this trip is teaching me to appreciate the little things, like the sheer ridiculosity that happens when you cut your own hair, because sometimes they're all you've got.
Granted, England, Harry Potter, Katri's visit, and macaroni leftovers are no little things. We can't forget those, either.
Tell me how your life is! This blog is all about me, but I don't want my life to be all about me. Email me! Facebook me! Skype me! Send me a link to your blog! I want to know what is going on in your lives, too.
<3 spadeALLcross
This week has been a blur...I don't really know where it went. But there were some definite highlights, so I'll just hit those up and let you go on your way.
Saturday, as I mentioned before, we went to Cambridge with the York St. John University international department. We met up with Paul Chaplin, my RA from last year, who's been living there for five months, and he showed us around. It was a great day, even though it was raining and freezing and I was wearing precisely the wrong shoes for walking around (I'd woken up five minutes after I was supposed to leave to catch the bus, thanks to my alarm clock being analogue and in Roman numerals...).
Sunday was church at St. Thomas with St. Maurice. I love that church so much. I wish I could take it with me back to the states.
After church five of us went to the Bratts' house for Sunday dinner/lunch. So much food. So much delicious food. And I love those people. Such a good day.
A little while after that was tea and toast (a fortnightly tradition at St. T's) which was mostly inhabited by Calvin students, but it was great to talk to everyone about their spring break plans, and talk to Stephen, Laura, and Hannah, who go to St. T's and organized the event. Stephen used to work on the railways before he became a vicar, I guess, and he has some great stories about the old steam trains (including the Hogwarts Express! He rode the real thing!) and is generally just a great and funny guy.
Monday, we went to Leeds. [Insert excitement here.] It was fun, but I'm kind of sick of talking about it. We saw the Royal Armoury Museum and the Leeds Art Museum, which were fun to see in conjunction with each other, because there was some interesting overlap between the wartime exhibits in the art museum and the parallel exhibits in the Royal Armoury. And both were free. Brilliant.
Tuesday...Wednesday...
Thursday! (This one's a long one...)
A bunch of us went to the National Railway Museum on Tuesday to ride the Hogwarts Express (just the engine was available, since the cars are just regular steam-engine cars, as I understand it), and while we were there, we saw that they had actors dressed up as Harry, Hagrid, and Dumbledore. We didn't manage to get pictures with them, and some people had to leave to be on time for a meeting, so we left without any bounty.
But Lea and I weren't done trying. We went back Thursday morning specifically to get pictures with Harry. That's right; it's a half-hour walk one-way, plus we didn't know how long we'd have to wait for him...you only wish you were this hard core of a fan...of HP impersonators...
We got there around 10:30 because we knew that he would be in the 11:00 magic show and we didn't know if he'd be available for that first bit. Turns out he wasn't, so Lea and I just hung around awkwardly, making jokes about how awkward we felt because this whole NRM wizard week was meant for primary school children on half-term holiday, and there we were, 19 and 21 years old, more excited about this than those kids, just because we wanted to take a picture with a guy who marginally resembled the guy who plays Harry Potter in the movies.
[The Magic show was awful. Totally bastardized all the HP themes, made a fool out of Dumbledore, and made up all sorts of lies about Hogwarts and Muggle-Magic relations. Very not okay.] Then, after the show, the actors said they'd be right back to take pictures with people. This was around 11:20. From 11:25 to 12:00, we stalked Harry. Hard core (parkour! almost...).
[When they came back, Dumbledore was first, and he sot of knocked over the rope line around the little stage right next to where Lea and I were standing--everyone else had left--and he looked at us and said, "That's the Domino theory for you. Except worse." It was funny, but his voice was kind of creepy...] Harry Came out eventually, and we just stared at him. Neither of us had the guts to ask him for a picture, so we were just staring. [He asked if we were using "Muggle image capturing devices." Wtf? Harry was raised by muggles. He knows what cameras are...] He told Lea she looked like a Weasley. Then he walked into the throng of children that had swarmed up behind us. Lea and I, kicking ourselves for not being Gryffindors, followed him as best we could. After a few moments, though, they said they had to go to the other end of the museum. So they cut through the narrow path through the diner that stood in the middle of the room between Queen Victoria's train and a train marked "Winston Churchill" (whether it was his or not, I do not know).
The crowd of children was following them, so Lea and I made to cut around the diner. As Harry Cut in front of us, he looked at us and said, "There are two girls who look just like you back there." We started cracking up. I felt so silly, but it was such a good feeling to laugh at myself for doing something stupid because of a book I've loved for half of my life. I don't know how to explain it...
We walked around the side of the diner, which had half walls with frosted glass at the top that were just at the right height to make it look like we were trying to be sneaky. We probably looked like such creepers as we kept perfect pace with Harry. Once we got to the end, they started taking pictures again, and we tried to get in, but were too cowradly. After a moment, they started working their way back through the diner, so we walked around again, crossed paths yet again, and got funny looks from Harry and Dumbledore. Once they reached the platform stage thing again, they climbed up and started posing. So dumb. Weird looking, too. Like synchronized slow-motion disco.
Then finally, as they made to walk outside, Lea and I both, at least, managed to yell, "Harry! Can we get pictures?" He said, "Sure, just follow us." So we did.
Out into the sunlight, onto the platform of the Hogwarts express, where we finally got our pictures. There were still crowds trying to get pictures with them, but Harry pointed at us and said, "These girls have been following us for a long time." Facepalm. As I took Lea's picture, Dumbledore asked her, "Where are you from?"
"Michigan."
"Oh, that's a long way to travel by broomstick."
Best. Morning. Ever.
Later that night, I made scrumptious homemade mac and cheese using real cheeses, mushrooms, onions, garlic, oregano...ahhhh. There's some left over that I'm having for dinner. I'm exited about that.
And last thing...I cut my own hair. Below is my demonstration of what it looks like.
Tomorrow, we're going to Fountains Abbey and Ripon. And next Thursday, Katri's coming!
There is so much to love about this world. Being this far away from the people and things that I care about, from everything that's familiar, and watching other people's lives unfold without me while I sit in England, feeling like I'm not doing enough to experience the culture...there have been a lot of downer times. With everything awful that's been going on in the world recently, in New Zealand, Libya, Egypt, and daily awfulness that happens everywhere, it's been so easy to see the terrible. Life has never been a squeefest. But this trip is teaching me to appreciate the little things, like the sheer ridiculosity that happens when you cut your own hair, because sometimes they're all you've got.
Granted, England, Harry Potter, Katri's visit, and macaroni leftovers are no little things. We can't forget those, either.
Tell me how your life is! This blog is all about me, but I don't want my life to be all about me. Email me! Facebook me! Skype me! Send me a link to your blog! I want to know what is going on in your lives, too.
<3 spadeALLcross
5.2.11
Don't wanna be an American Idiot
First week is up! And now it's about time for a proper update, what do you say?
England is shaping up to be brilliant, and York is absolutely corking. I don't mind saying that there have been some pretty rocky moments (usually hours...when I'm sitting alone in my room) when I have fleeting wishes to return home where everything is comfortable and familiar--if you'll remember my description of "my element," you'll understand why. But I think those moments are mostly fleeting now.
Some highlights from this week:
- We went to Whitby last weekend (that first batch of uploaded pictures were from there). I loved the coastal city so much. It, not surprisingly, reminded me a lot of New England coastal cities like Boston, which have always been my favorite places in the world. We had fish and chips, and I bought a set of "Royal Heritage" playing cards, where each card has a rendering of one of the kings or queens of England. They're brilliant.
- I obviously started classes this week. Aside from the courses "Studies British Culture" and "Rome and its Legacy in Britain" that are taught by a Calvin professor, I'm taking two courses through York St. John: "19th Century Writers" which is specifically British writers, and "Gender, Sexuality, & Popular Culture and Media" which is about a lot of things, primarily the way society and the media reflect back on each other regarding the way we look at genders and sexualities. Both courses have so far proven to be both really interesting, with students and tutors who are talkative and interesting, and rather easy in terms of workload. That's good, because the two Calvin classes are rather intense.
- I walked around the entirety of the open sections of wall around York. Very exciting.
- I went grocery shopping.
- I had my first crumpet. And my second. And my third. And that was before I started buying my own. I've already gone through seven of those, as well. Crumpets are amazing. Especially with blackcurrant jam.
- I went to tea. Twice. Like, there was an event on Sunday called a tea, and I went to it. Then there was another event on Wednesday called a tea, and I went to that as well. I went to tea.
- I saw the movies The King's Speech and The Queen. I have decided to make it my life's quest to study the British royalty, because they are fascinating to me.
- I got a 16-25 railcard. Very good stuff.
- I got ranted at by an older woman on the street. She had a very thick accent and was mumbling a bit as we walked down the street, so I don't really know what she said, but I think she was "damning [me] to the level of the Chinese theif" at one point, so I'm not sure I really want to know the rest.
- I made stir fry.
- I saw a street performer juggle footballs in the city centre.
I'm fully enjoying myself, and I hope all of you are enjoying yourselves as well. I've posted a third snidget to YouTube. Feel free to indulge if you feel so inclined.
<3 spadeALLcross
England is shaping up to be brilliant, and York is absolutely corking. I don't mind saying that there have been some pretty rocky moments (usually hours...when I'm sitting alone in my room) when I have fleeting wishes to return home where everything is comfortable and familiar--if you'll remember my description of "my element," you'll understand why. But I think those moments are mostly fleeting now.
Some highlights from this week:
- We went to Whitby last weekend (that first batch of uploaded pictures were from there). I loved the coastal city so much. It, not surprisingly, reminded me a lot of New England coastal cities like Boston, which have always been my favorite places in the world. We had fish and chips, and I bought a set of "Royal Heritage" playing cards, where each card has a rendering of one of the kings or queens of England. They're brilliant.
- I obviously started classes this week. Aside from the courses "Studies British Culture" and "Rome and its Legacy in Britain" that are taught by a Calvin professor, I'm taking two courses through York St. John: "19th Century Writers" which is specifically British writers, and "Gender, Sexuality, & Popular Culture and Media" which is about a lot of things, primarily the way society and the media reflect back on each other regarding the way we look at genders and sexualities. Both courses have so far proven to be both really interesting, with students and tutors who are talkative and interesting, and rather easy in terms of workload. That's good, because the two Calvin classes are rather intense.
- I walked around the entirety of the open sections of wall around York. Very exciting.
- I went grocery shopping.
- I had my first crumpet. And my second. And my third. And that was before I started buying my own. I've already gone through seven of those, as well. Crumpets are amazing. Especially with blackcurrant jam.
- I went to tea. Twice. Like, there was an event on Sunday called a tea, and I went to it. Then there was another event on Wednesday called a tea, and I went to that as well. I went to tea.
- I saw the movies The King's Speech and The Queen. I have decided to make it my life's quest to study the British royalty, because they are fascinating to me.
- I got a 16-25 railcard. Very good stuff.
- I got ranted at by an older woman on the street. She had a very thick accent and was mumbling a bit as we walked down the street, so I don't really know what she said, but I think she was "damning [me] to the level of the Chinese theif" at one point, so I'm not sure I really want to know the rest.
- I made stir fry.
- I saw a street performer juggle footballs in the city centre.
I'm fully enjoying myself, and I hope all of you are enjoying yourselves as well. I've posted a third snidget to YouTube. Feel free to indulge if you feel so inclined.
<3 spadeALLcross
6.1.11
The power is yours!
So, I'm taking a class this month about film noir, primarily those movies that came out the forties and fifties in America, but we'll be touching on neo noir and some foreign films as well with the same overarching themes. Today, though, we watched Christmas in Connecticut, which, if you've ever seen it, you should know it's definitely not a noir film. Ironically, it came out a yearish after Double Indemnity (which we watched in class yesterday), which is generally considered to be one of the archetypal noir films, and Barbara Stanwyk played the leading lady in both movies.
In both movies, Stanwyk played a woman who was weaving a web of deceit around her in order to better her own situation: either to be alone and rich and comfortable, or to have a mink coat and a job. The parallels aren't perfect, but they are there, and it's kind of unsettling to think about them.
Because were it not for the bright lighting, happy music, all the stylistic differences, and the last ten or so minutes of the movie, Christmas in Connecticut could be a noir film. Terrible things are going on, a flimsy lie is falling apart all over the place, people's livelihoods hang in the balance, and no one is in control, least of all the people who think they are.
Isn't that interesting? A classical hollywood film so close to tripping over the line of the dark, painful hollywood tragedy, the noir. But that's all classical film ever does...the conventions of the happy ending, the comical spin on ridiculous events, the tricks of light and sound...that's all that's keeping Meet the Parents from turning into a murder suicide.
In one style, people are considered to be generally good on the inside. In the other style, they are considered totally depraved. That's the fundamental difference: the way we look at the people, the way we're made to think about them and their lives and their motivations. Are they good natured or cruel at heart?
My question to you, my dear readers, is does this apply to real life, too? In what ways are the arguments between optimism and pessimism the same as the arguments between classical film and noir? In what ways are they different?
<3 spadeALLcross
In both movies, Stanwyk played a woman who was weaving a web of deceit around her in order to better her own situation: either to be alone and rich and comfortable, or to have a mink coat and a job. The parallels aren't perfect, but they are there, and it's kind of unsettling to think about them.
Because were it not for the bright lighting, happy music, all the stylistic differences, and the last ten or so minutes of the movie, Christmas in Connecticut could be a noir film. Terrible things are going on, a flimsy lie is falling apart all over the place, people's livelihoods hang in the balance, and no one is in control, least of all the people who think they are.
Isn't that interesting? A classical hollywood film so close to tripping over the line of the dark, painful hollywood tragedy, the noir. But that's all classical film ever does...the conventions of the happy ending, the comical spin on ridiculous events, the tricks of light and sound...that's all that's keeping Meet the Parents from turning into a murder suicide.
In one style, people are considered to be generally good on the inside. In the other style, they are considered totally depraved. That's the fundamental difference: the way we look at the people, the way we're made to think about them and their lives and their motivations. Are they good natured or cruel at heart?
My question to you, my dear readers, is does this apply to real life, too? In what ways are the arguments between optimism and pessimism the same as the arguments between classical film and noir? In what ways are they different?
<3 spadeALLcross
20.11.10
Lots-o-Huggin' Bear
Firstly, gotta clear something up about my NaNo calendar to the right there. It says I didn't get to 1667 yesterday, but in fact, I got to 1703 by about 8:00 pm, but didn't have internet to post it, and when I did have internet, I forgot until I got home from work at 1:00 am this morning.
So I still only owe Ben $5.
On to other things.
I've been posting a ton of videos lately, and I'm sorry if that's messing with your browser, but I'm going to post one last one, and I'll wait until these other ones go away before posting any more.
I personally don't believe it's a good idea to make abortions illegal, because that won't make them stop, it will just force people to go through other, potentially more dangerous channels to get them, which would only be worse for both mother and child. But I do believe that abortion is a terrible thing, and there are very few circumstances in which I can see the need at level with the cost. Of course, my entire argument gets very convoluted when people bring up the idea of abortion as murder, because I can't get beyond the fact that it is, but I can't believe that it can be treated the same way.
Anyway, government shouldn't be the regulator, but some greater effort should be made to keep people from making this choice. The woman in this video has some points I don't agree with and is kind of kookie at points, but her story is amazing, and people like her, as well as people who support people like her, should be in charge of a privatized movement to end the demand for abortions.
Granted, she doesn't agree with me. But that's neither here nor there, because we're probably never going to meet.
Gianna Jessen from LMF CAM on Vimeo.
<3 spadeALLcross
So I still only owe Ben $5.
On to other things.
I've been posting a ton of videos lately, and I'm sorry if that's messing with your browser, but I'm going to post one last one, and I'll wait until these other ones go away before posting any more.
I personally don't believe it's a good idea to make abortions illegal, because that won't make them stop, it will just force people to go through other, potentially more dangerous channels to get them, which would only be worse for both mother and child. But I do believe that abortion is a terrible thing, and there are very few circumstances in which I can see the need at level with the cost. Of course, my entire argument gets very convoluted when people bring up the idea of abortion as murder, because I can't get beyond the fact that it is, but I can't believe that it can be treated the same way.
Anyway, government shouldn't be the regulator, but some greater effort should be made to keep people from making this choice. The woman in this video has some points I don't agree with and is kind of kookie at points, but her story is amazing, and people like her, as well as people who support people like her, should be in charge of a privatized movement to end the demand for abortions.
Granted, she doesn't agree with me. But that's neither here nor there, because we're probably never going to meet.
Gianna Jessen from LMF CAM on Vimeo.
<3 spadeALLcross
18.11.10
Oh yeah...
...I also remember how much I love Avatar: The Last Airbender. Not the movie. Never the movie.
<3 spadeALLcross
<3 spadeALLcross
9.10.10
I couldn't possibly fit my big stuffed Eeyore through the eye of a needle...but I can't just leave him behind, either. He and I have spent fewer nights apart than my mother and I have...
This week has been hitting me over the head. In general, it was one of the longest weeks I've had in a very long time: the days dragged on and there seemed to be no respite, except for Thursday, which was glorious, but also tumultuous for its own unique reasons. More specifically, though, this week seemed to have an agenda.
It's like, Sunday said to last Saturday, "Hey, if you could go back, get the buddies together, and get one message through to this kid, what would it be?" and Saturday told Sunday, and Sunday--a more enterprising Sunday than I generally have--found a way to rally the troops, and this week has been themed.
And it all boils down to this: I don't deserve anything that I have. Nothing. 80% of the world lives on less that $10 a day. I just got a pay check of eight times that, and most of it went into savings, because I don't have to live on that. I bought a Prius this summer with money that I didn't work for, I'm living in a house that I don't pay for, and half the books I own are technically someone else's.
But it's not just about money. I don't deserve the life that I have. I don't have any debilitating illnesses, any massive emotional trauma, anything that stops me in my tracks and I have to shovel myself off the floor before I can continue my life. I don't have half the emotional strength of some of my friends, and yet the amazing force of will that they have is often not even enough to deal with their problems--problems to which I cannot relate.
I've never really had to work for anything my entire life. This isn't news to me or anything, I've known it for a very long time. I'm privileged beyond belief, but I've just now, this week, several. times. over. gotten a glimpse at just how far beyond belief.
And it's not fair. As much as I wish I could give everything away and make everything equal, that's not actually possible. And I can't honestly say that I wish that at all, because I like my life and I like my money and happiness and crap.
This week has just been a steady realization of my own pointlessness as a human being.
Okay...wow. That sounded way more depressing and angsty than I meant it to...but I'm leaving it there, because that's what it feels like. It's a gaping hole, an empty pain in my chest. It's a consistent thing that makes it very hard to feel good about anything.
But I don't think it's the end of the story, either. I mean, being depressed about how awesome my life is and wallowing in my relative wealth in both wealth and status would only make matters worse. The problem is, I don't know where to take this revelation. Sitting with it and rolling it around in my hands over and over again each day is fruitless and demoralizing; it won't get me anywhere. But I can't see an avenue through which I can satisfy my urge to fix something.
It's sad. I approach problems, conversations, friendships, workshops, Bible studies, naptimes, lunch breaks...everything with the intention of fixing whatever is broken. And here is the brokenness to end all brokenness, and naturally, this is not a problem within my range of fixing. This is so far beyond me.
And whoever is reading this, saying the whole, "Give it up to God; let Him take care of it, because He can do everything," in their heads, I want you to not speak. Because that's not an answer, and you know it. It's a dodge. If God wanted us to wait around on him to fix everything himself, Martin Luther would have said, "Corrupt church? Meh." and Jesus would have built houses for a living. God works through people, not around them.
Basically...I feel like the past 20 years of my life have been a festival of Mary. I'd like to get past that now, finally. Start new.
Dear World,
Mary has had her own inflated sense of self and purpose erased from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again.
Thank you,
<3 spadeALLcross
It's like, Sunday said to last Saturday, "Hey, if you could go back, get the buddies together, and get one message through to this kid, what would it be?" and Saturday told Sunday, and Sunday--a more enterprising Sunday than I generally have--found a way to rally the troops, and this week has been themed.
And it all boils down to this: I don't deserve anything that I have. Nothing. 80% of the world lives on less that $10 a day. I just got a pay check of eight times that, and most of it went into savings, because I don't have to live on that. I bought a Prius this summer with money that I didn't work for, I'm living in a house that I don't pay for, and half the books I own are technically someone else's.
But it's not just about money. I don't deserve the life that I have. I don't have any debilitating illnesses, any massive emotional trauma, anything that stops me in my tracks and I have to shovel myself off the floor before I can continue my life. I don't have half the emotional strength of some of my friends, and yet the amazing force of will that they have is often not even enough to deal with their problems--problems to which I cannot relate.
I've never really had to work for anything my entire life. This isn't news to me or anything, I've known it for a very long time. I'm privileged beyond belief, but I've just now, this week, several. times. over. gotten a glimpse at just how far beyond belief.
And it's not fair. As much as I wish I could give everything away and make everything equal, that's not actually possible. And I can't honestly say that I wish that at all, because I like my life and I like my money and happiness and crap.
This week has just been a steady realization of my own pointlessness as a human being.
Okay...wow. That sounded way more depressing and angsty than I meant it to...but I'm leaving it there, because that's what it feels like. It's a gaping hole, an empty pain in my chest. It's a consistent thing that makes it very hard to feel good about anything.
But I don't think it's the end of the story, either. I mean, being depressed about how awesome my life is and wallowing in my relative wealth in both wealth and status would only make matters worse. The problem is, I don't know where to take this revelation. Sitting with it and rolling it around in my hands over and over again each day is fruitless and demoralizing; it won't get me anywhere. But I can't see an avenue through which I can satisfy my urge to fix something.
It's sad. I approach problems, conversations, friendships, workshops, Bible studies, naptimes, lunch breaks...everything with the intention of fixing whatever is broken. And here is the brokenness to end all brokenness, and naturally, this is not a problem within my range of fixing. This is so far beyond me.
And whoever is reading this, saying the whole, "Give it up to God; let Him take care of it, because He can do everything," in their heads, I want you to not speak. Because that's not an answer, and you know it. It's a dodge. If God wanted us to wait around on him to fix everything himself, Martin Luther would have said, "Corrupt church? Meh." and Jesus would have built houses for a living. God works through people, not around them.
Basically...I feel like the past 20 years of my life have been a festival of Mary. I'd like to get past that now, finally. Start new.
Dear World,
Mary has had her own inflated sense of self and purpose erased from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again.
Thank you,
<3 spadeALLcross
8.9.10
All I know is my steak tastes better when I take my steak-tastes-better pill
Mary: So, Jared, how are the Timmer apartments?
<3 spadeALLcross
Jared: Oh, they're great. Well, crappy in comparison to KHvR, but still pretty good. And I have an awesome roommate, so I'm enjoying myself.
Mary: Oh yeah? I remember you were worried last year about your roommate...
Jared: Oh, well, I got a different one actually.
Mary: Yeah? Why?
Jared: Well, he's still in jail, so he couldn't come.
Ahh, the first day of school. Quite enjoyable, actually. Things went generally well. I enjoyed my classes ("Intro to Creative Writing" and "Shakespeare"), and though they will certainly prove challenging, I look forward to their continuation throughout the semester. I got a ton of odd-jobs done that I needed to get done, and even made good headway on my homework.
In my creative writing class, the professors made some off-hand comment about workshop groups, and it made me realize that, in my brief history as a serious fiction (and ill-fated poetry) writer, writing groups have been the one thing that ensure that I write. Not only does the pressure of creating work for others to read spur me into writing just anything as long as it's something, but the pleasure of getting feedback from those others often spurs me to take new risks and really enjoy my writing in a way writing on my own never does. This revelation is...well, huge. It's why NaNoWriMo, though grueling, is so much fun for me. It's why my Creative writing class last semester (ironically a higher-level course than the creative writing class I'm taking this semester) was by far my best experience as a writer ever.
In summary: I need to find a [semi]-permanent home in a writing group.
Work started tonight, too. It was actually very fun. Evidently, I was put in charge of all the gym floors and the stairs in the Hoogenboom Health and Rec center. I dust-mopped all the gym floors, and then swept and mopped the stairs. I worked with a freshman media-productions major named Taylor and listened to a post-modernist philosophy lecture on my iPod.
Now to bed!
Well, first a word from our poor, neglected sponsors.
P.S. I actually wrote most of this either before the end of the day, or during the day/night of the eighth. Sorry if my insincerity and outright lies bother you.
5.9.10
We gotta stop meeting like this, hun.
Another crazy dream, not as terrible as the last, but still kind of hard to stomach in places. Americans had been enslaved, I think by some European nations, and we had pretty much given up hope of ever being rescued, since we'd never been very nice to anyone but the Europeans, I guess. Anyway, there was a class system among the slaves, and one guy in his twenties or thirties had a lot of "money" that he had used to build himself a really nice hut that stayed out of the heat, and a little corral for his car. He had also used it to buy one of the slaves; I think it was Megan Dincher. He had her stay in his hut all day while everyone was working, because he was afraid of this other slave who was in love with her and might have tried to steal her.
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Meanwhile, Ben Verhulst, Ben Niewenhuis, Carley, and I watched all of our friends die off one by one [in a weird movie-like montage] from a plague that the slaves were all prone to for some reason. We carried of J$ and Jasmine, Breems and Luke, some of my more remote high school friends, etc. And then the four of us were all relocated and we thought we'd never see each other again.
I got to hang out with all the old people and the little tykes, which was creepy, because this wrinkly old woman [whom I shared a sleeping bag with because the nights got really cold] was evidently a very...excited lesbian. Then, one day, while working, I came across Megan Dincher's prison hut, and saw that there was a guy trying to break into it. I went to go stop him, and found Ben, Ben, and Carley, as well as some more of my remote high school friends had already tried to stop him.
Eventually, we were all crammed into this little hut, and I some how figured out that it was this guy who was in love with Megan (though she did not reciprocate) who had bought her prison hut and everything, by giving Megan's owner all the money he needed.
We decided that instead of turning the one guy in, we'd all try to escape. Somehow we made it to South America in a matter of a couple hours of a train ride. But there was still slavery down there; there were training camps for children who would one day be old enough to be slaves. We got stuck in one of those; they were going to hold us there until one of the camp overseers could come and pick us up and take us back to the states. So we tunneled our way out of there, and discovered all these wonderful places, including a place where Chilean children chase penguins into ice caves. We were all really scared that someone would find us, so we were soaking up as much of the landscape as we could, since it was much more temperate in Chile than it was in America, where it had gotten unbearably hot.
Then my phone went off and I decided it was not a good idea to try to go back to sleep in a dystopian society.
Other than that, today went pretty well. I washed off my new bookcase, packed up my car, finger painted with Annabelle, showered, watched some Royal Pains with Dennis and my mom, watched the beginning of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, ate dinner, then left Illinois. I listened to the tail end of The Prisoner of Azkaban and then switched to music for the last 45 minutes of the trip. Now I'm back in my Michigan room that smells like Thai Dragon Fruit or something like that. And I'm not dying of heat exhaustion. Life is good.
Goodnight, World.
1.9.10
If I close my eyes tonight...
I've been in a weird funk all day. This morning was great, when I woke up and was all well-rested and stuff, and it was even raining a little so the humidity wasn't as bad, and I even got to use my blanket for the first time since moving in. But then it went steadily downhill all day. My guess is that I was just lonely for most of the day, watching Psych by myself on usanetwork.com and waiting for the UPS guy/Ben to come.
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Ben came first, and when he did, I got really tired all of a sudden. And then the UPS guy came, and I was hyper. Then we went to see Inception, but ended up going to a later show than we had anticipated, so we went to Meijer first (yes, I've been there every day this week except for Sunday...) to get some screws for Ben's foosball table. Then we saw the movie, and it was great. Again. Then I went home, ate some dinner, tried to watch The Guild, failed, and went over to Ben's, and ended up just watching Psych on TV. Only this time, Nelson was there, so it wasn't all bad. And then I fell asleep. Ben woke me up in time for the Colbert Report, but I fell asleep during that too.
Funk. Gah. Obnoxious. I really wanted and tried to be awake tonight. Failed.
Anyway. Tomorrow, I'm going to Calvin to pick up an employment slip, playing some Mario Kart with some friends, and then going home for the weekend. Then classes start on Tuesday.
Summer is officially over.
21.8.10
You fill up my senses...like a walk in the rain...
Today was pretty laid back. My feet and hair were washed while the rest of me went pathetically without. Also, I did pack all of my clothes, with only a little foresight into my clothing needs for the next few days, so I'm probably going to be rummaging around to find stuff to wear. Ah well.
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Also, I babysat, and while doing so, I watched Lucky Number Slevin. And while Slevin Kalevra is a great name, that movie was far from re-watchable. It was a well-made movie, and I definitely heartily enjoyed parts of it, but I do not enjoy watching people getting their heads blown off from a close-range pistol, nor do I particularly relish the idea of people suffocating due to a plastic bag duct-taped over their head. Maybe this is a weakness...I choose to disagree. I also watched an episode of Adventure Time, which is probably one of the weirdest things I've seen in quite a while.
As I was leaving, Mr. Schaefer told me that he had been going through some old papers, including my "What Does it Mean to be Human?" paper that I wrote for him over two years ago. I did not want to talk to him about school work, (because that might involuntarily turn into a conversation about how much I had hated him as a teacher) and I didn't remember having to write a paper; I remember making a movie...but whatever.
Goodnight, world.
19.8.10
How could I dance with another when I saw her standing there?
Today was a lovely day! I got so much stuff done, and had fun, and spent money, but not too much...lovely day.
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Got home from Cari's, showered, then went out with my mom. We went to Khol's to get me some professional clothes for both any job that I might get and for my upcoming semester of observing students in their natural habitat. I fit into everything I tried on, and had enough money to buy a good amount of clothes. We also went to PNC and opened a new bank account for me! Hooray! Now I can deposit money into my account while I'm in Michigan, and get money from ATMs instead of just the cash-back at Meijer. That was always a challenge...I had to buy, like, a pack of Ramen or something just so I could get money to pay someone back for something.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, as I recall. I finished ripping Dune Messiah and started Children of Dune. I also started watching a TV show called Life that a friend had recommended to me. The characters do creepy facial expressions sometimes, and the main character has a weird mouth/lisp thing, but it's a pretty good show.
Tomorrow, I'm getting a haircut and a pedicure, and babysitting. I should also pack up my clothes.
And now, a word from our sponsors.
18.8.10
Psst...can you keep a secret?
...I'm not actually posting this on the 18th. I slept over at Cari's house on the 18th, so I didn't have my computer. Don't tell anyone...
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But it was a very productive day, all things considered. Ripped another audiobook (Nineteen Minutes) shipped a sold textbook, packed up the rest of my books, and burned a [non-functional, but who knew that?] DVD. Then we celebrated RC and Dennis' birthdays over an excellent steak dinner, which was fun. After dinner, Cari and I went to Best Buy to get her TV for school, which was also kind of fun, and then we went to her house and watched The Office. I am now almost completely caught up, except for the last two episodes from the fourth season, and I don't know how many episodes from the sixth season. I'm not über excited about those, though, so whatever.
Cari leaves Friday for school. Carney leaves Thursday. Summer is ending. Curses.
Tomorrow (Thursday), I'm going shopping with my mom, and I need to rip some more CDs.
14.8.10
Better Late than Never
Schwoops. Didn't update last night. It was a combination of forgetting and being out until 4:00 in the morning, so not really wanting to delay my rendezvous with my bed. I'm going to write this post as if it's still Friday...
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I watched Dylan for the last time, although I'm going to be watching him tonight, too. But he'll be asleep, so we won't have our routine from the week. But we'll always have ... well, not Paris, certainly. But something, I'm sure.
Then I deposited that check ($$kaching!$$ now I actually have money to spend this coming semester!) and came home to do some stuff with paying my parents back for stuff, making more lists, and eating dinner.
After that, I went over to Carney's house to steal from his magical mystery hard drive of many cinematic wonders. And we went to Cuba Marsh...still don't know why. That was his idea, and it resulted in about seventy mosquito bites all over my foot...so restitution may be in order.
Finally, there was The Ripper. Oh gosh. Not going to lie, I was kind of dozing off during most of it, but still, it was the most ridiculous thing I've seen in a while. 1996 ideas of the future + attempts to make a video game fun and challenging + the often-poignant commentary by spoony of spoonyexperiment + Christopher Walken = hours of laughter.
Oh dear. Hilarious. Just sayin'.
And now a word from our sponsors.
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