Time Consuming Trivialities

New Year's resolutions

2011-12-31T10:07:00.002-08:00

I usually keep these to myself because at least half of them are tossed out mid February. However, since most of my resolutions for next year have nothing to do with L.A. Fitness there's a big chance I might see them through. Let's see...

Yesterday I had the most inspiring dream. I was successfully completing an oil painting. My subconscious was kind enough to allow me to be am abstract artist, so I will stay a little longer, swayed by my imaginary world into all kinds of places before realizing I must be dreaming. And though I know that in the waking world my lines, colors and shapes will never reach the mysterious symmetry of the least understood of visual media, I guess I will give the brush a try. What is the worse that could happen? I'm old enough not to be disheartened if I don't see my work in a gallery... oh well, I am young enough to start a lifetime of addiction to turpentine,-ehhh- I'll just try to avoid that. Basically, I'll go to create something in the one medium I've never tried before.

I intend, by all means to start a journey. For a person whose favorite saying is "Places to go, people to annoy..." that might sound like a given. I basically have a yearly trip, be it in small or grand scale. Journeys though, are those instances in which travel becomes a revelation, when I come back older and wiser or rejuvenated and wilder. I need to learn something about myself I cannot learn at home. I need to find a place where I've never been and yet I believe, with all my heart a part of me is hidden there, on a stretch of road, in a painting, on a piece of overheard conversation between strangers that turned out to be a life lesson, at the shadow of a monument that will make me cry or laugh out of sheer amazement. I need a new lease on life.

I will keep delving in Judeo-Christian Theology, just because it fascinates me how people have dedicated years of effort to try and figure out Someone who, among His natural attributes, reside the word Unknowable. One of these days, I'll present may thesis: The Platypus and many other Inside Jokes: Humor in the Deity.

Just to complete the above and because I honestly believe His plans are well constructed and His ways are as awesome as they are mysterious, I'll keep on giving a shout out and showing His Love in a practical way because that beats thumping the Bible anytime, anywhere.

I will write. And once again, It sounds like I'm playing a broken record, because I write on a daily basis. This time though, I have a wonderful writing partner whose level of mischief and wonder are way out there... enough to make me want to acquire a Spanish keyboard. Yes, you heard it well. Voy a escribir en español. Eriiicccc, a donde vamos a llegar?

In general, I'll keep cooking with Angie, tasting with Izzy, doing the fine art critic thing with Michelle, having extravagant cups of coffee with my sisters, and finding creative ways to annoy my brothers in law. I'll celebrate Kendra's uniqueness, Lysanel's love of all things pink, Millie's outrageous take on life and Katya's adventures in all things college. I will find a way to spend more time with the elder peeps (because 24 hours is not enough time for mom and dad, gramps and titi).

I will cheer and jeer movie trailers with Robin, scream Viva la Deeva as often as I can while sharing cyber victories with Viv, Mark and the girls. I will dedicate time to discover the mysteries of something called "Tumblr" so I can finally reciprocate half of the jokes Mariah sends my way. I'll keep on discussing every twist and turn on our favorite fantasy series with Mayra until Snow White finds her ever after and will write mini sagas for Ismael's awesome fantasy pics on the side.

More than anything, I'll leave a blank slate for the unexpected and make sure to do something, at least one thing that scares me, and of course as I always do, I'll set some time aside to make friends out of wonderful strangers
LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE, take it seriously and life will be a lot easier.

The quote. as always, it is kick ass, deep and courtesy of the wonderful Mr. Gaiman. So here it is, a positive spin on one of those annoying things that make us all too human:

"I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something."

A passport to Weirdland... my adventures with Team 126

2011-11-29T16:41:00.007-08:00

Disclosure: One third of this is completely true, one third is an attempt at recording, without personal involvement the unfolding of one of the most successful social experiment to come about in the history of the Internet, the other third is comedic hyperbole... you choose.

Some people have been curious about my very secretive ways these past week or so. My presence in Facebook and other social media has been obscure at best- well, not really- I was in another page, conspiring with another people.

Certain members of my family were honestly worried, others were quite cooperative within their means and their abilities...(Batgirl, your identity shall remain hidden, I swear). As always, the midnight crew followed me into the mouth of madness, good soldiers of fortune willing to wake up in the middle of the night to follow a mysterious tweet or a furtive email.

I guess, close to 24 hours after the curtain fell, it is safe to say, being a puppet ain't that bad, when they make you dance tied to sugar string.

The Greatest International Scavenger Hunt the World Has Ever Seen (GISHWHES for short) is my latest entry into the bizarre section of my Curriculum Vitae. Honestly, given the chance; wouldn't you want to add Guinness Record Breaker to your long list of WTF?

The whole concept is the brainchild of my top deranged celebrity, Misha Collins and the mysterious Miss Jean Louis, a capricious artiste from the school of Marcel Duchamp, you know, that nice French bloke, who in a moment of lucidity uttered: "All in all, the creative act is not performed by the artist alone; the spectator brings the work in contact with the external world by deciphering and interpreting its inner qualifications."

If you mix this particular appreciation of life with the wonderful Mr. Collins point of view; constant optimist that he is, the man believes the world can be fundamentally changed, one random act of kindness at a time... then you have the set up for an interesting game indeed.

Who is in the line up, you might ask? Did I mention Mr. Collins has over 318,000 followers, willing to sign into his beck and call,one tweet after another? You might call them followers, he prefers the word minions, you know all potatoes and potatos will end meeting the same peeler.

The thing is that quite a good chunk of people world wide said I do and jumped blindly into a game of art, community and creativity without having the slight lest idea of what was expected of them.

I was apprehensive at first, because all of us are happy in our own little world, you see and Mr. Collins does not believe kids should play by themselves, so what I thought would be just another night at the movies with the midnight crew was more of an act of casting our lots with seven complete strangers, from all over the globe.

As I opened my inbox the first day, I discovered I had two Germans, two Poles, three Canadians, one of them chillin' in the California sun. Well guys, the world just expanded. We bonded, immediately and it is ridiculous to think that a week ago our common denominator was a kind of obscure Sci-fi/Horror series in the CW network and a certain trench coated angel. Well, not even that, Izzy usually avoids all plots involving handsome crying men, so we had to fill him in, and quick.

Today I can say that we laughed, stressed, provided feedback, send frantic emails in the middle of the might, fueled each others whimsy and even managed to dance together. I know that Torben is willing to raise to the roof, Finja is really a fairy in disguise, Monika hates Facebook but was willing to sign up for our sake (she has also been granted my the amazing ability to bring order to Chaos) that Ula knows exactly how low can GISHWHES go, that Michele and Danna can out dance anyone and anything in any setting, that Tamara will get her fingers and toes in a sticky situation, just to help the team advance; that Michelle and Hisriel are willing to get into a fight in an extinct language and that I can both rock kale in salad and above my head to light the dinner table.

Thank you guys for an awesome experience. It was a chance to raise something out of nothing and make it worth everything. Out of all the crazy stuff we cooked together, our little secret society was the best.

What is left to say to those who didn't take part on this experiment? There's always next year. In the meantime, if you see some oddball in a monkey hat, perhaps skipping a couple of steps down the road, singing in Enochian or smiling wide without apparent reason; smile back. There's a chance you are crossing paths with an artist, or someone who is compromised with a random act of kindness... well this person might also be a weird little hobo, but a smile never hurt anybody.

Luuuuuuvvvv to all.

OHHHH... I forgot, in the meantime, if you feel like spreading the love and have some change to spare, get to know the not so crazy side of the coin: www.therandomact.org

En Spanish... Calle 13 mientras mas lo digas...

2011-11-12T07:51:00.003-08:00

Los Grammys llegaron y se fueron y Calle 13 le demostró a el mundo que no se necesita una casa disquera para conquistar la industria de la música. No es fácil lograr semejante hazaña.

Una vez más Rene predico su evangelio de la playera (viste que así se dice t-shirt en español, que monstra soy cuando quiero) dejando saber su pensar en 100% algodón. Dijo lo suyo ante el micrófono y nos dejó con una canción que se ha de convertir en el himno no oficial de una Latinoamérica unida. Que bueno.

Mucha gente en Puerto Rico esta abanderada con este asunto y por lo general la división es de índole política. Aunque hay muchas excepciones a la regla, basandome en lo que he podido apreciar en los foros... si eres estadista es tu deber que te apeste Calle 13, si eres popular o independentista, entonces estas basicamente obligado a apreciar el estilo y el mensaje.

Advertencia: A mí me importa un comino el abanderamiento político sobre este tema. Por mi Rene puede expresarse como quiera en cualquier foro sobre cualquier persona. No es el primero ni el último que le ha dicho lo que piensa a un gobernante en una sociedad libre. Por mí que le ponga un blanco a la madre de Fortuño en la espalda y que se raspe un Free Willy si alguna vez se da el Delfinario de San Juan hacia el futuro. Si esa manera de expresarse lo hace feliz, una vez más, sea bienvenido.

Ahora, lo que me revienta de Rene, va más allá de mis 100x35. Me molestan las verdades a medias, la falta de compromiso del artista hacia las realidades de los pueblos. Me molesta que América Latina este corta de estrofas, que no se canten todas las versiones de la historia.

Yo tengo dos cuñados, uno Nicaragüense y otro Cubano, los cuales han vivido una historia que no aparece en las rimas de Rene, la historia que no conviene contar, porque no tiene que ver nada con los excesos del imperialismo Norteamericano, y si con el problema a el que enfrentan los disidentes de los gobiernos que Rene tanto protege y admira.

Oh sí, porque que bueno es recordar la cara de un desaparecido cuando es víctima de Pinochet, si tú sabes, aquel que los gringos treparon y después no supieron bajar. Pero qué me dices de los que desaparecieron bajo Sandino. Nicaragua tiene su buena y larga lista. Si, háblenme de los sandinistas que tomaron sobre un país y ofrecieron oportunidad de educación para todos, igualdad para la mujer y acceso a servicios de salud para todos a razón de expropiar tierras y decidir quién se queda y quien se va de su propia patria. Cántame Rene de la gente que tuvo que salir de su tierra corriendo por cometer el pecado de ser disidente de una ideología política en el poder. Tírame una rima bien sabrosa sobre la política de apartheid calladita que existe en Nicaragua donde los indios no valen nada. Usa esa musa para escribirle un himno a las madres Nicaragüenses que salieron de su país con lo que pudieron y llegaron a Estados Unidos sin nada a razón de haber recibido la “cortesía y consideración” de todos los países entre Nicaragua y Texas en donde se cobraban todo tipo de multas e incluso se jugaba con la noción de desaparecer tus hijos si no pagabas cuotas exorbitantes… esas lagrimas tienen valor también. Porque aquí en Estados Unidos están los que quieren, los que pueden y los que no tienen más remedio. Que esta de lo que hablo se quedó en los ochenta? Cántame de México y de lo considerados que siguen siendo con los “inmigrantes” Hondureños que ponen pie en ese país. Allí hay para cantar un rato.

Y hablando de los que están aquí porque no les queda más remedio. Qué lindo es ver un cañaveral bajo el sol de Cuba. Felicidades a ti que puedes verlo. Déjame sugerir una canción sobre Cuba y los cañaverales. Cántame la cancioncita del trabajo forzado impuesto en los que no están de acuerdo con Fidel. Y no te hablo de los alborotaos que tienen la política corriéndole por la sangre. Te hablo de los que no participan de la actividad política por causa de su consciencia. Cántame sobre la gente que como el padre de mi cuñado hicieron tiempo en prisiones cubanas a causa de que su religión no les permite tomar parte del proceso político… porque en Cuba la bella estar neutral hacia el régimen es tan malo como estar en contra.

Y si puedes, cántame de los que están en la cárcel por tirarse maromas como las que te tiras tú, querido Rene, porque más de uno le ha dicho hijo de puta a Castro y créeme, no ha sido celebrado como lo eres tú. Háblame de la situación de los cubanos que tienen que bregar tanto con el impuesto embargo como con la falta de humanidad de su propio gobierno. Que las cosas están cambiando con Raúl? Pregúntaselo a las damas de Blanco.

Que tienes guerra contra el Imperio… una vez más me importa un pito, este país aguanta esto y mucho más… que te vas a hartar con el billetaje cuando hagas la movida al mercado anglosajón, como lo anunciaste en Primer Impacto… probablemente. Aquí hay mucha queja de índole social a la cual sacarle punta. Es una pena que cuando te presentaste en Jimmy Kimmel perdiste el tiempo cantando en español para después reírte de los idiotas que te hacían coro sin entenderte. Sabes qué? Una vez más fue decepcionante, porque ese era el foro, ese era el momento, con la atención nacional para pararse y decirle a Jimmy al pan pan y al vino vino… this is what really bothers me about the politics of your country, that has mine by the balls, you know… pero tuvimos que conformarnos con tu camiseta y con tu lirica explosiva y con oírte mandar a los americanos a decir woooohoooo o algo entre coro y coro después de quejarte con un colorido puñeta de que no sabían español.

Sigue hablando de todo el mundo que de mí no recibes una ovación sincera hasta que no me cantes de las dos caras de la moneda. Latinoamérica es una canción hermosa pero le resta mérito estar inconclusa.

10 years...

2011-09-10T11:30:00.002-07:00

This is one of those days I never stop writing on... I've been doing it for ten years and it served both as a catharsis, you know, just another drop in the Ocean of grief that was September 11, 2001... as much as an experiment on personal perception, on how my views about something so earth shattering could change in time, if possible based upon the turns of the world around it.

Writing is something personal, and it is tainted or blessed by the imprint of the soul of the person who puts his or her thoughts on paper. Today I am sober, introspective; physical pain does that to you. Perhaps if I were not going through a flareup, my musings might be a little brighter, cheerful even. That I'll never know. Whatever comes out, I can assure you this is the one day I rather not be cynical, or bitter, or try to be a smart ass.

Some ten years ago I was sleeping late. I worked the graveyard shift in Capital One's Collections Department... (whenever we go to sleep in the East Coast, there are people in the West Coast that are coming home and deserve to be pestered with phone calls just like everybody else). Lee woke me up and I was not in my best mood. She told me a plane had crashed against one of the Twins and I answered "Oh Geez, poor plane, I mean those buildings can stand up to a 727" and she told me "I think is something bigger."

We sat in front of the TV and honestly I can't recall much on the whereabouts of the other people in my family. Instead of being one of those days everyone was just there, mom and dad were working and so was Lysania. Kenken at four years old was doing what she still does best- drawing - lost in a world of color and imagination, safe from it all by virtue of innocence. I remember Lee. My middle sister and I, we have never been too touchy feely, though we love each other dearly. I remember her hands, intertwined with mine and how we were both slightly trembling. Lee saw the second plane coming before the people who were covering the news noticed. i remember her nails digging in my arms as she pointed to the screen. She had barely screamed "another" when the man in the news echoed her. It was obvious then ans all I could say was "Mercy."

In a matter of minutes we had to internalize witnessing an event that was meant to change the world as we knew it and when KenKen asked why we were crying we were dismissive, after all what has a child to do with terror. Lee held her and told her "There was a big fire in New York." Kenken tilted her head, like most little kids do when they are trying to fit in something, it is almost comical, the tilt of the head and the meeting of the eyebrows... "but I love New York"- as if her statement could keep the city safe from harm. We all did baby, in fact the world entire were New Yorkers at the end of that crisp September day.

As names and possible culprits rose from the ashes, as heroes served and died in the blink of an eye, as the greatest strike to touch American soil since Pearl Harbor took shape, I remember being angry. Very angry. I've always been a fan girl of troops and though Osama bin Laden was not a household name to all I did remember the guy being linked to the USS Cole. We had a mastermind and a possible target in Afghanistan and I remember going to bed saying "Boy, they will soon enough change the topography of that fucking country." Some people might say, oh Lynnette that is not the Christian thing to do or say, but I've never been a hypocrite and nor will I rewrite what I said or felt in order to make it look better. If I am really a Christian then God is a witness to all. In His mercy he even cut of some slack for anger. As I prayed that night though, my initial word "mercy" stayed with me, soothed me, healed me, as I prayed for those that soon will be at risk on both sides: our troops and the innocents in the cross fire.

Ten years on and I will venture say the guys upstairs do not understand the scope of what it is to fight this type of war. Some people might say that being a secular government, we are not equipped to deal with religious ideology based violence. well, ten years ago I decided not to be left in the dark. I started with my Bible. I read it with the sole purpose to find the roots of the Arab bitterness. Guess what, I found none. Jewish scripture didn't shed much light either. In fact Ismaelites were quite loving of their brothers, the sons of Isaac, little rascal that he turned out to be and all. The next logical step would be to read the Koran, which I did- study guide and all- so no one can come and tell me about something I don't know. As I read the Bismillah, I cried, because Allah turned out to be merciful and compassionate and it really hit me how a few could turn something beautiful into a weapon of hate... Ten years on, we are to recognize it happens everywhere. The man who took it upon himself to execute the Norway massacre had, after all, a Bible among his possessions. Don't you dare to blame a book, nor a religion, let alone God for the actions of twisted minds. The sons and daughter of mercy shall prevail. Peace be with you, Shalom, as Salaam Alaykum, they all mean the same, you know.

Heroes. If anything that day, all who died, including those who were born in foreign soil, were considered American Martyrs and everyone who rose to the occasion was dubbed, without a second thought, an American hero. As my heart goes out to the first response workers, the fire fighters and the police that day, to the troops gone and hurt in the killing fields of Afghanistan and Iraq and through the world... it is flight 93 the one I rather write about today.

They didn't have to do it. They could have stayed placed in their seats, saying one last prayer, calling a loved one, asking why me... however these group of people, who comprised a random sample of America, took a stand that kept a bigger tragedy at bay. At that moment, they didn't stop to analyze in depth whether to include God in a brief prayer offended the sensibilities of those around them, nor did they took count of how many Republicans/Democrats were on the flight or whether or not they could reach a deal that will bring over the other in their objective. When Todd Beamer pronounced that "Let's Roll" that has been sketched in America's psyche, he didn't stop to question Mark Bingham's sexual orientation or whether or not he deserved certain constitutional rights, nor did the other one refused... they were side by side being men of the same stature. Some people say that death is an automatic passage to exhalation in the eyes of the living, after all I've never met anyone who hasn't been "a wonderful person" upon being laid to rest. However, looking at how we are living our lives today and the petty fights and the dirty politics we all get stuck with; I'll dare say, without hesitation that we lost a sample of our best and our brightest on that flight. I wish we had more people who are willing to do what is needed instead of weighing their personal agendas. Mercy was with them that day, as it takes a lot of love and purpose to lay your life for the sake of another.

Where am I going? I don't know... maybe I just want to remind all this is not a day for politics. It is a day for all of us.

I'm watching my TV screen, getting glimpses of what will be the grand reveal of the memorial tomorrow and I just hope that eventually that place will fill with laughter and vendors and crazy people playing guitar and the occasional colorful and scary bum, you know, 'cause it's New York and the city wouldn't have it any other way. Ten years on, and we still live and learn. Ten years on we are justified, critizised, both the best and the worse country in the world depending on who is asking or who is answering.... and I glimpse at my TV and see bits of green where ashes once stood and man made falls where so many tears were shed, and names, representing lives, carved in what seems endless rows and I know there is something we owe them...

As I type, I'm feeling a lot better, which means the piece, which started gloomy will not be at all cohesive. It is expected for me to go revise what I have written and make it sensical, structured. Not today, not even a spell check I swear. This day has always been dinamic for me, you know the one day I toss it all out the window and ask myself, what can be done for others, how is it that we can manage to live our lives with one degree of separation from one another... ten years on, no one should stand on the sidelines. Get out, donate, give your time, educate your children the best way you can with aims of making them better than you ever were. Never forget, but do forgive and let's go forwards and fix those things we've found are wrong. I know we might be on a rut, but we can rise above it.

Tomorrow I might or not go to church, if I do, my sister Lee will be there and there is a chance that we might hold hands and laugh. And thank for mercy. It will be a wonderful day, I bet.

Just for kicks: A very dissapointed review of Dead Reckoning

2011-07-06T12:31:00.007-07:00

In a world in which we are all forced to choose, I must say that I've successfully walked the thread between Truebies and Bookies (if you care for True Blood in any way shape or form you know what I'm talking about).

I believe the secret of my success derives precisely from understanding the workings of both series and books as two different animals.

While the world of Charlaine Harris has supernatural working and lurking in every corner, it is definitely a "fun read" type of experience. In all honesty, and perhaps because of her choice of POV, her vampires- as described by Sookie Stackhouse- don't come across as lethal as they should. Honestly, for book readers, ever since book 4 people had forgotten this is meant to be a supernatural series and it has turned into a pink coated paranormal romance in which the eager reader is much more engaged by trying to guess the pattern of long haired Eric's braiding than the next preternatural threat.

Still, it is a successful series and it has it's fandom. And yes, I enjoy Eric's golden hair in braids, and I get a kick out of his sitcom marriage to Sookie and I love Bill the King of Geeks with his uncanny computer knowledge and yes I even like Pam in pastel blue.

I have no qualms whatsoever to turn my TV on Sundays and thank his all mightiness of Ball for giving me lethal, sarcastic Eric, who might or might not be interested in "I don't know who I might be" Sookie Stackhouse, and I can deal with William Compton, King of Louisiana and Pam's drop jaw fashion sense.

That's why I was sorely disappointed when reading this book. I'm not much of a writer, but I've been a fan all my life. There is one thing all authors should know.... fans are bloodhounds, and they can smell fear. It is a rare and sad case when an author proves to be so weak she can be easily influenced by other people's interpretation of her characters. It has been established that Harris can do fun, campy without sliding into ridicule and can pull sexy in a tall glass of blond bombshell. One thing she cannot do is gritty, dark and multidimensional. That is Allan Ball's territory. It didn't keep her from trying, and failing terribly.

This ship started sinking with Dead in the Family. That's when Harris tested the waters for layered Eric. In her effort to create a background story for our favorite Viking- or as I lovingly call him, Po boy's Lestat- she created Ocella, a vampire master impossible to digest and probably her most despicable character to date. And precisely, because Ocella had no redeeming qualities the character didn't resonate with the readers, as most of us found it unreasonable for book Eric to hold any kind of sympathy for him, vampire fledgling rules or not. In other words: Ocella is no Allan Ball's "Godric". By playing the minimal allegiance to Ocella, Eric became... what is the literary term? Pussified.

After the fiasco of trying to show a softer, easy target side to Mr. Blond Fun, then there was no other route than to go grittier, darker with the next installment... that is easy to pull off, right? I mean HBO book Eric up a notch... cause fans of that darn TV show looooove short haired, quick witted, cocky Eric, so why not? Because there is a big difference between being assertive and being a douche bag.

The following will contain three brief spoilers-two Eric, one Bill- just to prove my point:

I believe the scene calls for " I do not negotiate Eric", which we have seen a dozen times in HBO, he who scared the living daylights out of the meth pushers in Hotshot, etc etc etc... well Ms. Harris decided it was time for book Eric to show his prowess by scaring a hair dresser- yes you heard me- a hairdresser within an inch of his life for not bringing a cutting cape. Said hairdresser was meant just to cut off a couple of inches of Sookie's hair WTF???!!!
But let's just wait a minute, book Eric is not unpredictable enough, not enough self absorbed, not selfish enough, so let's spice it up... in a move that runs counter both book and series characterization. Eric beats the heck out of Pam in a fit of rage. He did so in a preventive strike manner anticipating that Pam could reveal a secret to Sookie. Really... really? If there is anything between these characters it is- all puns intended- undying loyalty. It made me close the book and grab a drink, I swear.
And don't even let me start with Bill. And no, it is not a matter of teams, at this point in both book and series I'm team "Sookie is better off in fairyland." But I guess when it comes to sexy up quiet book Bill who has been out of the radar since book 3... well you know because those TV fans just loooove the tension, there's nothing better than concoct a scene in which a naked Sookie ends up atop Bill in his cubby. Honestly, I had to read it twice because I couldn't figure out how the hell this came to be, all while fighting that pesky cello in my head... you know Bill's theme, because the words that came out of Bill's mouth were HBO writing staff, guaranteed.

And God forbid I forget the "shout outs" through out... I mean one thing is Merlotte's having "Bad Things" in their jukebox selection, the other is Pam going verbatim on her clever "Are you picking up what I'm putting down?" that established her as the one badass lieutenant.... sigh.

All in all, I still look forward to my Sunday nights, as far as the written word; well, I have books stacked up everywhere. I'll get to Harris when I get there.

Pirates... stranger rants I have written

2011-05-21T15:57:00.001-07:00

There's a big chance this is my last post of Earth as today is May 20, 2011, close to 5:30 and believe me I'm writing Captain Jack because I have already exhausted all of my Theology ;)

There are movies I build hope about, you know the ones I wait with fangirl anticipation circling opening day in big bold red marker. I expect to love this movies to death and wear my midnight ticket stub as a badge of honor. When they don't deliver it is more than disappointing, it is heartbreaking. And because my heart is broken I can't bring myself up to kill this movie in fifteen bullets or less, so I'll just randomly go about the things I found out and try not to spoil it. Understand this, the movie was okay, if it were a stand alone movie I would have loved it, but it's PIRATES and it missed the mark.

This is my rant list:

The direction was weak. I am sorry, but they should have paid Verbinsky any ridiculous amount of money he demanded, because he was sorely missed. I don't know how they managed to make a straight storyline like this one seem choppy at best. The one story that could have played the best of the real life pirates; the might of the Spanish Empire, the logistic of the British against outlaws on both sides that were the stuff of legend... come on, how can someone manage to bore to tears with such material and a supernatural aspect on top?!. If you want a thrilling high seas chase go rent MASTER AND COMMANDER
I have said it before. Johnny Depp can do anything, even salvage Captain Jack from this wreckage. He was funny, nasty, charming and straight up sexy at times, but there are three far superior movies that you can rent to see him do this over and over.
He might be sexy, as Penelope Cruz is a goddess, but there was no chemistry... NONE.
I really hate when the tap into a great mythology and skim it through. The one good thing, the one perfect element of haunting horror and beauty was a ten minute scene involving mermaids. I wanted more, and ten minutes is what I got.
They also kind of introduced the Spanish Empire's idea of reigning by divine principle... the burden of Catholic Kings to rid the world of darkness... I know no one expects the Spanish Inquisition, but when you hint at it, you better show it all... the flare the big banners the red from head to toe... but once again, the Spaniards were in the background, more of shadow characters than the compelling force behind a quest I was promised on the opening scene.
And dear God... whose idea it was to make a Pirates movie without the Pearl? Let the ship be haunted, stolen, sunken to the depths of the Ocean into the Locker... but it has to be there!!!!!

I wish I could write more, but I don't feel it deserves an extra line even.... I'll leave you with a quote, sorta:

"It was an honest error, to mistake a Spanish Nunnery with a Brothel."- Captain Jack ( and I don't think he was truly sorry about the whole misunderstanding)

The cult of Gaga... or celebrities that piss me off enough to blog about

2011-05-10T10:14:00.002-07:00

I must confess the first time I saw her -probably before anyone else noticed: a scrawny blonde thing singing Just Dance on the Miss Universe 2008 Pageant- I thought she was fresh. I placed my bets on her being the future of Pop Music. I loved the concept of "Little Monsters"... a rag tag group of disenfranchised youth coming from all walks of life to rally behind an emerging star poised to deal with issues affecting us all. After all, her war cry was an alternative to staying home texting your frustration from teen mobile to mobile. But eventually it all became the same tired pattern of celebrity telling her fans it is okay to use your critical thinking, as long as you agree with all I am saying. Go forth little monsters and spread the Generic Gospel of Gaga.

Once again there is a reason why this blog is called Time Consuming Trivialities... it is here where I come and say enough on things no one cares for. Make your money biatch... piles of it, after all this is America; but please stop riding the cause of the week in the Pop Culture Carousel. You are not rebellious cotoure my dear, you are rebellious dujour; fabricated, spewing bland words for anyone to hear, no better than Britney, from whom your fans usually recoil in horror.

First it was the gay issue. Gaga rode that Coaster like there's no tommorrow... and along with it there was this ridiculous mystique emerging... is she s tranny?, could it be that in fact she is a man? ohhh nono nono, wait, she's probably bisexual because that's in vogue. And yes we must admit that she did the marching and the Proposition 8 speech and lets not forget that in her inspiring video ALEJANDRO she made sure to put in the image of a guy in military garb rocking some fishnets stockings because that was a frigging statement towards America's attitude about DON'T ASK DON'T TELL. And don't even get me started with BORN THIS WAY in which some idiot PR guy envisioned her as the Maddonna for the short attention span generation. It was dull, and the whole sampling music track thing had a bitter taste of Vanilla Ice saying... no I never used a track from "Pressure"... If you are with me in your old age you know what I'm talking about. For all you have "done" for the gay community. I don't know if I have to over compensate for being straight here and making an issue out of nothing; but I'm pretty sure my gay friends will agree saying Bette Midler, Cyndy Lauper and Cher, she is not.

And now, since the gay thing is wearing down (for her at least it seems) she has taken upon the latest red button issue: Illegal Immigration.

I cannot believe that she had the face to go to Mexico and say that ALEJANDRO was partly inspired by her fangirl attitude towards Alejandro Fernandez whom she was looking forward to meet. Oh wait a minute I thought Alejandro had something to do with don't ask don't tell and meat processing and so many deep metaphors the world can peel off like and onion... but of course, I forgot she was in Mexico at the time. How effing original.

While she's never said squat about US immigration policy while in the continental United States, it was convenient to address this issues while in Mexico, Not only that, she dedicated her new song AMERICANO to the struggle of people trying to cross the border and make a living in America. Hmmm, let me check the inspiring lyrics...

"I will cry for, I have fought for/ How I love you/I will die for, I have cried for

How I care/In the mountains, las campanas/Están sonando/Y los chicos, y los chicos
Están besando."

Ehhh, very profound indeed, just like JUDAS was meant to be powerful social commentary on our attitudes towards religion ( while I cough someone please google Madonna's LIKE A PRAYER)

Anyway, I can envision the video for AMERICANO: a whole bunch of migrant workers clad in glitter, leaving flesh, blood and sequins at the border to get to a Lady Gaga concert in Arizona... because that is worth fighting and dying for...

In nicer news... still like Katy Perry, let's hope she doesn't get ridiculous.

15 things I learned from Dylan Dog

2011-05-02T14:12:00.005-07:00

Once in a while a movie comes around that leaves me gasping for air. Well most of the time the source of my arrest is the sublime, in other cases is the ridiculous. Go ahead, say it...I can hear most of you chuckling in the dark, whispering I told you so. Well surprise, Dylan Dog does not fall in either category. Fun enough to blog about, bad enough to tell you go in at your own risk; this is one of those movies that fall in neutral territory. I like it enough not to hate it, I hate it enough to make fun of it, albeit lightly.

So instead of killing the plot in 15 bullets or less, I rather jot down 15 unexpected Dog lessons. Don't worry, it is not spoilery at all and even if it sounds like it, you'll need to see it in context:

Horror movies should be equal opportunity employers... though I am an avid rabid vampire fan, I'm starting to understand the werewolf community plea. I never thought I said this, but it needed more werewolves.
Peter Stormare can read the yellow pages and I'll be a happy camper... had they given him more screen time, I would have walked out of that movie a were-fan.
Brandon Routh is not as bad an actor as I judged him to be. My apologies Mr. Routh, you brought it, as far as it could be brought.
Zombies are people too and if we had an insight into their brains, we'll discover that they'd rather have a hold of our best resconstructor conditioner that our warm, quivering entrails.
I'll never walk into a greasy burger joint- EVER AGAIN- without giving respect and attention to the over worked teenager at the registrar
If they offer you a #9 at the said burger joint and there is only eight items of the menu, take it. You'll be kinda grateful later.
Vampires are not really known for great marketing strategies, they like their business straight, if the phrase TRUE BLOOD proved successful in HBO, why change it?
Werewolves are the "Vitte Corleoni" of meat packing in New Orleans
BTW New Orleans is not only a safe haven for the undead, it's frigging running over!!!
Zombies are world class diggers second only to naked mole rats
Beware of people who are fond of Latin
The best way to win the fanboy/fangirl crowd is to include some Italian dialogue. Is a nice tip of the hat though all nerds concur is better to leave subtitles off
If it ain't broken don't fix it, you managed to sail through your movie with old school make up, why oh why bring annoying CGI and kill my suspense of disbelief
I keep very accurate track of my monsters and for endless nights I watched MH1 (Monster Hists One) to try and find out a nice little Where are they Now on Legend's Darkness... forget it, I think I found him.
Don't ever leave your friends out of the loop when it comes to supernatural stuff, otherwise you'll end up responsible if he or she turns out to be made up as a dead hooker

The quote: "There's no room for heroes among Zombies, we have along, proud history of being cowards."

A very public introduction to Neil Gaiman's SANDMAN

2011-04-23T15:26:00.002-07:00

Hey baby, or should I say hey sweet young lady?

Time does fly by as you are to enter High School. Fourteen years... darn it. According to the Library reading guidelines you are mature enough to handle the material I'm about to put in your hands. I don't know, perhaps kids are more open to the world these days, but I found it really funny, as I read this Graphic Novel for the very first time in my twenties and it managed to screw my mind... but a promise is a promise.

I remember you as a four year old skulking into my library, that sacred little space comprised of two giant bookshelves and trying to reach with chubby little fingers an arrangement of books that looked colorful, inviting and fun, all of which were strictly forbidden. It frustrated you heavily, and though I tried to distract you with Wolves in the Walls and the outrageous idea of trading your Daddy for two Goldfish (quite a good bargain, I might add) I promised you then, that in time, my books would be yours.

I've seen you grow since then and although when you were smaller, you rabid attempts at recitations of The Raven and The Tyger made me chuckle and joke that you were made after my own image, I knew that in fact you'll grow up to be a completely different being. You have the drive of someone who wants to drink life in cup fulls, the mindset of a conqueror and the build of an athlete. Most people would be scared of these departures in character, I'm not. It is my faith that I'm granted a gift, the opportunity to see you reach places I never dreamed of.

But let's go back to the things we have in common: we both despise the mundane, the black and white outlook on life dictated by people who are too afraid to take a chance. We both like the idea of a world beyond our own where we can hide once in a while. Though I meditate in dreams and you seem to want to tear at the fabric of it all just to find what makes them tick, we both believe in that kind of magic.

With no further a do I give you a book that I knew will be yours since the day you were born. It is well preserved and taken care of and even though I had the chance to buy it brand new, I rather give you this one. It has character, little battle scars, it's been places you haven't been yet, touched by other people. It has left a palpable imprint is those who read it, and now it is yours.

Its is a story, not of a man, but of a being that is older than gods, from whose hands drip the sands that forge the dreams of mankind. You will not meet him at the top of his game though, in fact he is beaten, reduced to nothing, a prisoner fueled by revenge. But don't worry, as in any good story, nothing ever stays unmoving. Eventually you'll catch with what is going on... You know most men and women in comic books go from being regular Joes to having god like superpowers. This one works backwards and that makes it unique, is a hard, long journey towards being human.

I'll leave you now, to the dreams of gods and men and the stuff that lives on the edge of nightmares

Love, L.

The little Theology Corner Presents: let's play it one more time

2011-04-11T08:37:00.001-07:00

Holy Week/ Passover is almost upon us and it is time for that yearly ~~rant,~~ reflection I love to share with those willing to read. I usually jot down notes on the Jewish roots of Christianity as this is the best of time to understand and debunk the idea of Substitution Theology that has given a sort of carte blanc to many Christian branches to practice a very subtle and sometimes dangerous, albeit subconscious type of anti-semitism. However there are things that pertain to the Church that are pressing and at hand.

2012, You might ask? I care nothing for the date. God help me I'll be in Ireland, downing a pint with as many crazy peeps as I convince to go to the Emerald Isle. But I do see people talking about war and rumors of war and second comings. All of that is important to me, otherwise I wouldn't call myself a Christian. However, it is important to me, the conscientious traveler, not to loose the flight over a little mishap.

If you haven't noticed this little note is not meant for my fellow Christians, not for those who know not God. It is a heap load for those who live in the fringes of Christianity, calling themselves sons and daughters of God while walking farther and farther away with each deed and thought. Those who have grown way too comfy in their padded chair, praising with air conditioning, to the point of becoming complaisant, of taking for granted what was done for us and worse; having the audacity of denying it to others.

I heard someone say once that being a Christian is like playing Simon Says. You don't get to make up the rules, just wait for the commands. It is true, but let's not forget that of all commands there is one that trumps, one so definite that embodies the whole concept of our faith. "Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13: 34-35)

We are lacking, we are failing miserably, each time we judge, each time we separate ourselves and look down on the so called "sinners" like we are high and mighty. Each time we point our finger and say " I know with fervent proof that God will smite You." We have the audacity to climb to the cross, tear Christ's bloody hands from the beams and cross them upon His chest.

Just who do you think you are? I have no problem reminding you. You were a slave, an imperfect broken vessel and someone took pity on you, brought you home, cleaned your wounds and cut that iron cuff in your ankle that marked you as less than human. Too much was done for you and you look into your Master's eye and tell Him, "I'll never be able to repay you." Guess what if you can't pay it back, then pay it forward.

I know how to play my game, go ahead and try to hit me with your best shot. Simon says I gotta love you. I will, and the best thing is that if I learn to love the right way, not only will I nurture you, I'll grow too.

This post is dedicated to the West borough Baptist Church, the Koran burners, those who believe the gay have no hope in Christ , the Shepherds of America that dare say God abhors this country, the prejudiced, the modern Pharisees and money exchangers that are staining the image of our faith. Your time is running up, start playing the game right or face the consequences of loosing...

I used to have fit of ire over you, but now I just pray, until my tongue is sweetened and I'm able to say with all my heart, I love you, have a Happy Easter.

Words without end....

2011-03-29T14:33:00.002-07:00

It's been a while since I've jotted anything down. I have been seriously thinking about doing one of those little selfish excerpts I usually tag under "State of my Union." However, things have managed to be both hard and boring and it would hurt to revisit; even if I try to embellish events and make them pretty with big words I hunt long and hard in my Thesaurus.

So I did the second best thing, which is to go look for other people's point of view, far away from the mundane. Since I had no budget to buy me a ticket to a bonafide Irish Pub, be it in New York or in the Emerald Isle, I carpooled a trip to the local library and soon enough wound up with an assorted gang of books that range from the familiar comfort of Vampire Fiction and beautifully orchestrated collections by Neil Gaiman to the prospective challenge to read about Time Traveling Scabrous Scotsmen... which by the way its a delight of a subject to voice three times in a row, at the top of your lungs while searching in the Fiction aisle....

I'm going nowhere, except that right now my head is full of people and their stories and I need a break between books. Or perhaps is something deeper that I am trying to dismiss as trivial, I don't know. But as I browse through my books, I'm surprised and comforted by the thought that they are not solely mine. And I guess that is the wonder about Public Libraries, that the paperback I hold in my hand has been object to someone else's subjectivity. Maybe the little book that I so loved was tossed, mid-reading by someone else back into the library bag after been declared the crappiest piece of writing ever to soil a page... or that the slightly underlined sentence, with trembling pulse in almost faded blue ink contains an arragement of words that meant the world to someone, for the sake or misfortune of their soul.

And as I read, I internalize what a given author chose for me to see and also partake of something bigger, almost sacred. I graze the lives of others, as they will mine; all joined by an invisible thread, by that need to scape to another world.

I can't help but wonder if the person who left that trace of sultry, musky smell on my paranormal romance book found what she or he were looking for or if the careless reader that left a chocolate imprint on the fantasy collection I'm about to attack found the stories as sweet... As I said, I don't know where I'm going, other than perhaps I felt like singing an Ode to the wonder of Libraries or the fact that unbeknownst to us we might have but a degree of separation from that stranger that across the isle.

The quote:
"My books are very few, but then the world is before me - a library open to all - from which poverty of purse cannot exclude me - in which the meanest and most paltry volume is sure to furnish something to amuse, if not to instruct and improve."- Joseph Howe

Red looks more like washed out pink when exposed to Twilight

2011-03-12T14:45:00.005-08:00

Call me an idiot. I should have read the reviews or at least, my heart should have sunken low when I found out that Catherine Hardwicke was meant to direct this one... but when it comes to pointing out the source of all evil, I believed Meyers should have been the culprit and gave the Twilight director one more chance. Alas! I've been duped, the Twilight effect is an ever growing virus that eats at the core of everything it touches, tainting a director forever with the love of unexplainable out of the blue closeups of angsty revelry, and the box office poison that is filming on a closed, second rate set.

Taking in consideration that I am still under a feverish Nyquil Spell, I'll try to put it up in words and make some sense of it.

The one positive aspect- and I'm using the word positive for lack of another- is that each frame of this movie seems to be a love letter to Amanda Seyfried. She is beautiful, sweet innocent with a tinge of wild and it makes it all so much more painful to watch, that a character could have so much potential and yet when push comes to shove what should have been quite an interesting journey of self discovery turns into just another teen movie. She had the chops to make this movie dangerous, thrilling, a bit sexy and a lot scarier, like a good fairy tale should be. Instead she was given a script that called for lip pouting and sighs and a strange little medieval dance that looked like a night of clubing at Ybor City.

Thrown into the maelstrom of too many plot lines too little time, way too many stale shots is Max Irons- son of Jeremy-God Bless him. He is handsome and undoubtedly talented, he did what he could with the lines given and made the best about an "antagonist" that turned out to be quite likable, because he is the nicest guy you will ever meet. It is expected, in the honorable world of squeaky clean teen romance whenever Bella is in danger Edward and Jacob will team up and... oh, hold on that's another movie... is it?

The Glory that is Gary Oldman- strapped off cash -decided to sign for this glorious project. This is a man who obviously discerns Ham from Hamlet played his character accordingly. He delivered his lines bombastically and didn't seem to mind the hens that perched silently and content on top of balconies during a fierce snow storm... because even poultry will face the weather to learn off the Inquisitor what they need most... expository dialogue on werewolves.

Talking about hens in snow storms, cinematography was a pain, the opening shots were promising with beautiful dark green woods surrounded by rolling fog and dark edges and turns. However, the first five minutes give into closed sets that scream heavy plastic/ foam moldings that set the tone towards a crappy pixelated werewolf . Since the concept was wolf supersized they should have borrowed one of Eclipse's angry puppies or shot a real gray wolf in scale. It was distracting ugly to watch and not scary in the least. For some reason the woods were intertwined with giant -over 5 feet in lenght- spikes of what seemed to be ashwood. It's a shame this story deals with werewolves and not vampires otherwise they would have been pushed into a tree and taken out of their misery in a snap.

I would continue and build upon a nice comparison against the best interpretation of this particular story to ever grace film, but I'm too sick to continue so I'll say... The Company of Wolves this ain't.

The Quote: At a given time Peter (Shiloh Fernandez) tells Red "We can't be together, I'm a danger to you" and it's giving me an ulcer to confess that Edward's stupid lamb and lion speech had way more resonance...

ANGEL TIME first rant of 2011

2011-01-06T14:10:00.006-08:00

Hello, Lynnette here; a fan through and through. Wherever I go, I carry and take care with utmost zeal of a number of books that never leave my side:

A King James Bible by God and all His inspired scribes, which comprise a kind of holy et all

Neil Gaiman's Sandman

and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles,

which kinda gives me the right to be a self proclaimed connoisseur about any of these titles, their authors or people's interpretations on the subject matter. Yes, in other words this is a geek rant about Anne Rice's latest endeavour: ANGEL TIME.

I took my sweet time to approach Mrs. Rice's Christian writings. I did it most of all due to respect of the author perse. I promised I will not read Christian Rice while my mind still conjured certain pervasive images linked to her name. I waited, patiently, until Lestat no longer rose from the page, loud, flamboyant, beautiful and damned. I gave Ms. Rice some time and filled Lestat empty spaces with other characters, replaced Ms. Rice with other authors. I left the books on the side while I pursued my own need to have certain Theological questions answered, questions that lead to solidify my belief and teach others the need to understand - and accept without condition- the Jewish root of the Christian faith.

Finally, after all was read, I guess, and I found it no longer a challenge, and picked the book off the shelf. I really, really wanted to love ANGEL TIME, mostly because what ever little excerpts I got from angels on Rice's ROAD TO CANA promised that complete understanding of messenger and message conveyed, of creatures that although not human deal in the most intrusive of fashion in human affairs. And I use intrusive on a positive light, because it is the work of angels to interrupt the flow of human life with a touch of the divine, a missive that carries a directive from God Himself. Sometimes is a message of comfort, sometimes is a message of joy and sometimes, those times that make us all think about the short span our little lives cover in the scheme of eternity; a message of judgement.

Maybe my disappointment with the book derives from mislead expectations. The title, illustrations and synopsis made me believe this was first and foremost a book about angels. And I am so tired of angels being misrepresented, that I got really excited about Rice touching the subject. If there is someone who knows details is Rice. For years I counted on her to take me to places I've never been to, describe the texture and taste of wines that never touched my lips and spend hours I couldn't spare mystified by buttons.

So when all felt like a promise of angels, I expected non the less. I wanted angels of mercy, guardian angels, those beings who do not know the soul, for lack of one, yet can understand human feeling linked through the Spirit that imparts life to all. I wanted war scarred angels, archangels hardened by battle, wings stained crimson in the fray. I wanted Living Creatures to leave our imagination baffled, with heads that carry four countenances, extraordinary chimeras that burn like burnished bronze. I wanted cherubs, not the round faced babies that adorn souvenir bags and chocolate boxes; I wanted larger than life Protectors of Glory, willing to slice with Flaming Swords through anything that could even pretend to offend the seat of God with its sinful presence. I wanted Seraphim, so touched by the Presence that in order to appear to humans, even in vision or dream they must cover their face, for their countenance reflects the face of God like a mirror and their mere sight is death to those who dare look with naked eyes. And I wanted of course, Fallen Angels, delving in Chaos, plotting destruction, striving in their vanity to hold on to a semblance of beauty...

ANGEL TIME gave me nothing of the sort. The Angel on this novel, a Seraph called Malchiah, serves mostly as a plot device and no matter how cleverly used, it is what it is. Malchiah is the omnipresent narrator on a otherwise first person account. It is there to cheat for the reader in a sense, giving insights into characters lives that cannot be derived off their own accounts.

SPOILER AHEAD, JUST IN CASE:

The matter boils down to a Seraph recruiting an assassin to have him travel back in time and save a family of Jews about to be put to trial on the 13th century for crimes against Christians. There is no reason for the angel to choose an assassin for this task, a good stage actor might have pulled it off, after all, the one thing required of the angel's human companion is to partake of something an angel cannot; to concoct a lie- a pious, white lie, mind you, but a lie nevertheless.

I'm not puritanical when it comes to fiction- or lies, for that matter. Being on that particular character's shoes I would have lied through my teeth to prevent an injustice without thinking it twice. However, it would have been more of a challenge, a challenge for a writer of Rice's stature to solve this problem solely by angelic intervention. I would have given anything to see Michael, Guardian of all Jews both in Israel and the Diaspora wage one of those epic battles in behalf of the People so that whatever was bound in the airs would inevitably be bound on Earth; after all the best stage for innocence is truth.

It was a fun fast read, but that is not what I look for when I pick up a book by Anne Rice. I'm sorry, still, after all this years, all experience counted, I believe that Lestat is, of all her characters, the best Theologian, and that Rice's angels, are effective, touching and true when- as Rice once said- they "are going in another direction."

My New Year Facebook Greeting

2010-12-31T15:21:00.005-08:00

There's quite a handful of people that will be with me tonight at midnight, those whom I hold dear and have blessed me with their presence through the year, my family. Of all reasons to be thankful, this is the main, the foremost. My parents and grandfather are healthy and enjoying all opportunities that God send our way, and so are my sisters, their husbands and children. To them, I'll be able to say "I love you" face to face and it is an indescribable feeling, a chance not to be taken for granted.

I will dedicate this post though, to a number of my facebook peeps that correspond with me through the internets, shortening distances. So, to those I won't be seeing tonite, but to whom I type away every other day... this one's for you, in no particular order whatsoever ;p

The Friends:

Mariah: May the New Year find you new wheels and give you a broader, bigger stage and may we find an opportunity to further our partnering in crime... I owe you one of those phone calls in which we check that we are not really mad at each other and just corroborate how lazy we both are :p. In the meantime lots of love and blessings.
Robin: May the New Year bring you that one cape you've been missing... I do believe super heroes come from all walks of life and you do inspire me with your pieces of advise that keep adding spice to life... okay, what the heck, with JC's approval, may the year bring you the chance at a cup of coffee with Ryan Reynolds
Mayra: I do wish the year will bring me a chance to go see you :) Let me tell you something that I might not have told you before, everytime you hit a "like" on one of my silly status, I feel like it is a bit of a push uphill, and I appreciate it. May the year find blessed and fulfilled and may it pay you back in joy whatever this one took away in tears.
Eric: You have everything you want as for you the simple things in life are enough and will suffice, may the year grant you absolutely everything you need, because life has a way to provide for those who know how to give to others, if there's anyone deserving, it is you.
Rafa: may this year find you with love and family and memories you'll cherish.. and ring your way lots of work, since you love what you do!!!
Vivian: You have your fortress, your Mage and two enchanted princesses... may the year grant you all you need to weave your awesome spells: faith, love in loads, your children's laughter and a double dose of courage, since you wield it so well as to make us all humble with your daily words and actions.
Yani: A mini cooper, of course, brand new and better than the one you lost!!!!! and health, lots of health and spare time to share with those you love
Angie: May the year find you with yet more reasons to spread laughter and joy to all of us and keep cooking and posting those wonderful plates of yours!!!! LOL
Rosa: What ever the year won't bring you, you'll squeeze it out of the sucker anyway!!!! Thank you for being a spark of crazy, sexy and cool. Keep marching to the beat of your own drum, because that is why we love you
Rosanna: May the year bring you warmth, more than anything, LOL. I've been horrid with phone calls I know, but I do love you, thanks for unexpected visits in the middle of the night and such, that is what crazy friends are for ;)
Eladio: I'm so glad to see the signature Pastor by your name, may God and this New Year keep granting you the wisdom and compassion to lead and open the gates to all His blessings over you and your family
Ricky: You get what everyone gets... 12 full moons baby, make the best out of each one and may this New Year find you that she-wolf to go howling mad about, among other things... thanks for keeping the bad guys in check
David: Mr. D!!!! We are all a work in process and God is really doing his best on applying a wonderful detail into your life, may the New Year find you following the light of that beacon you discovered and may it shine as brightly as the first time you found Him.
Ismael: May the New Year find you discovering new avenues to convey your talent ans share it with all... success, success!!!!

My family: (I'll kinda cheat on this one since there are some peeps I'll see tonite anyway, but I'll include them since they are also Facebook partners in Crime, LOL)

My daddy: May the year find you exactly where I plan to leave you tonight at midnight, by my mommy!!!! LOL. I have the blessing of seeing you everyday and believe me is something I do not take for granted, every word you ever told me is a treasure in itself, keep being a rock for all of us. I luv you my daddyyyyyy!!!!!
Titi: My second mom, with whom I hang about every week as part of my commitment to "El Club de Semi-Viejas" may the New Year find us with places to go and things to do to shake stress and boredom... and lots of points to accrue in JUST DANCE!!!!
Michelle and Izzy, because as I write I can't keep you separated: Thank you sweet, sweet cousin for putting up with my wacky, upbeat, gory writing and taking it all as if I actually paid you to proof read... may the year find you with a lot of patience 'cause there are more stories coming your way. Izzy, thanks for putting up with me dragging your wife into all things weird, one of these days I'll pay you with a movie we can ALL see LOL
Lysandra, Leo and Lysanel-though she doesn't have a FB page :p May the year find you keeping that open line with Jesus that works wonders for all of us, sister. To my brother in law, may the year find you sharing those lessons in life that you know how to impart so well, that mix of streetsmarts and compassion that makes you and unique addition to our family, and Ms Chinks, may the new year find you wearing one of your many crowns and filling us all with cheer all year long
Ken Ken: Fame doesn't wait, so I believe the new year will find you fighting for all you believe in and with the will of God, will come your way. Keep on being our little engine that could, smart undercover ninja, artiste extraordinaire, sports jock and altogether lovely young lady
Lysania and Eduardo: May the new year bring you further blessing, but I'll talk to you at midnight, since you have no facebook accounts, LOL
Frankie: Long lost cuz found through FB, may the year find you basking in the sun of beautiful Cali, counting your blessings and imparting those warm slices of luuuuv you keep sending our way, big, big hug.

AND TO ALL BEST WISHES IN 2011!!!! May the year find you remembering the date change, so you won't mess up your checks, letters and other documents, LOL

To the best friend in the whole world, counting down to her birthday

2010-09-28T16:15:00.007-07:00

Mariah:

I've known you for almost twenty years now, that's a long, long time. It's only fair to say though that it feels like you have been there through my lifetime. You know me, the real me, better than my sisters, than my parents ever will. Family is funny concept,there are the guys you love because they are blood and there are the ones you let in because they are your blood type.

Each year I wreck my brain trying to find a present that you will enjoy more than anything in the world. It's damn hard, almost impossible and as it turns out, I end up buying something that fits me like a glove. You'll open it and smile and thank me with the kindness of your heart, making a little mental note about my tendency towards the cult of personality.

If you have taken the time to notice how I is so prominent in this letter, then you catch my drift. This is, after all another egotistical missive. A musing of myself to myself praising my greatest accomplishment at a personal level: to score a friend like you.

There are lots of things you have done for me that turned out to be advantageous over the years, more than- I unashamedly admit- I have done for you. I might be self centered and a bit megalomaniac, but I curb myself enough to be grateful.

So, here it goes, Myself and I present the many reasons why you are my best friend and I love you, maybe not more, but as much as I love ME.

You are the oddest person I know. Take it as a compliment, wear it proudly. It has nothing to do with the way you look or the things you do, but with what you give. You are a beacon my dear, a crazy magnet. The wild, lost child that lives in me, saw you, held tight to your jean straps and never let go. Together we walked out of a Metal Mission Meeting, never looking back. After all, better than killer riffs God loves a twisted, dark sense of humor and we've been laughing at His jokes ever since then.

You are also the most patient person I've ever known. Back when I was twenty and decided I'd live my life, write the great American novel, have an extravagant affair and die, gloriously spent and filthy rich- or genius Poe poor, depending on the mood-at twenty five, you read all my stories. You read them, even though you secretly wanted to be a Rock Star as far from my prose as possible. You read them and gave me nice pointers that I found best to follow. As you did, you didn't wrinkle your nose or rolled your eyes. It might have crossed your mind to burst my bubble. More than once the stars were perfectly aligned for you to say: "Stop it, you pompous ass, Stoker sits in the Throne with Rice at his right and Brite at his left and this shit ain't worth a pass"- but you never did. Thank you

There's something that started back then and lingers today, oblivious to time and distance between us. It's scary now, as it was then and still a mystery. As I recall it all began with Louis de Pointe Dulac and his eventual incarnation in Brad Pitt. Ever since, we've shared the same fangirl obsessions. Our current fixations need not to be discussed as whatever rocks your boat will also make waves around mine, except for werewolves.

You are the most enduring friend I've ever had because you understand that I hate phones and will sacrifice hours on the line for thirty minutes of solid face to face interaction. Whenever I don't call, you know I'm fine and when I do, you know it's also well. When we meet in any given airport for one of our crazy escapades and I hug you really, really tight with complete disregard of breaking bones, it feels that I just saw you yesterday.

While at it, thank you for Florida, New York, New Orleans, a hazy weekend in Baltimore, a week in Rome and the best day I've had in the Island, trying to figure out whales from rolling waves and figments of overactive imagination at Rincon Beach. Fortuna and Bacchus know where my next drunken revelation will take us. You always say yes with ease and I end up having the best of times.

All in all you've been with me through thick and thin. Your eyes didn't hurt when I went through my monochromatic period of clothes and accessories back in the early 90's. Your delicate strides put up with my clumsy construction style boots while we made our way through College. Well, you made your way. I frantically ran through Physics and Psychology with long intervals of failure in Math until my weary brain decided to give up and go for Literature. Thanks for the long days of trying to burn into my psyche the numerical interpretation of the phrase ALL SILVER TEA CUPS while I fancied pouring delicious, sweet, steamy concoctions in each one of them.

You've been there in my comings and goings, my stepping in and falling on my ass off the diet wagon, my many changes of mood, surpassed only by my changes in hair color,my rants, comedic or not, my drama, my thinking I've found Mr. Right and my swearing off looking. It's been almost twenty years of tagging along, running scared, avoiding Karaoke, getting lost in parking lots, being the victims of alien life force, talking nonsense of great meaning, doing snail mail, email, Facebook, talking on the phone a lot less than we should, taking walking tours and museum exploring to new heights, guy, errr, bird watching and a whole bunch of miscellaneous stuff.

Through all and in truth, I don't know exactly how many times I've stopped to say THANK YOU, but since I don't remember I don't think there's been enough. I still have some twenty odd days to get your birthday present. I'm afraid I might not nail it in the head, old habits die hard after all.

Sometimes I look at Kendra who is right here and now the one person I love more than myself. Remember that day I forgot all about your birthday and dragged you through the mall hunting for a Tickle Me Ernie because I was so uber excited about my niece? My very best friend went presentless and elapsed because I had baby fever. I hit myself over the head for it through all the weekend, because of my forgetfulness and your gracious silence about it. Had it been me, I would have gone " Hell-Oh, it's my frigging birthday!!!!!!" I guess my point is she is growing up so fast and starting to differentiate between classmates, acquaintances and true and through friends. I hope, for her sake and for my peace of mind that she finds this one wonderful, uncompromised, crazy friend that will be as good as mine. A friend like you is good enough to be set for life.

Many happy, happy returns, my sister from another mister.

9/11 and those who won't let the collective get some closure

2010-09-09T07:49:00.007-07:00

It started a bit reflection, ended a bit Theology Corner, but it always happens to my with this particular day...

I am done with my grief. I am ready to move forward. I said so last year on the first anniversary of the event in which I was able to watch footage of it all without hot tears streaming down. Last year I was able to discuss it with my niece, who was barely 3 years old at back then, for the very first time, because I wanted to do it with a clear sense of history, without chocking or sobbing.

It doesn't mean that I will forget the clothes that I was wearing on that day, or the fact that Lysandra dug her nails deep into my left arm as she screamed "oh my God there's another plane coming" as we watched a live feed. And I'm still grateful to God that the initial word that escaped my mouth after measuring act and consequence was "mercy."

Yes I went through the motions. The cursing, the raging, the wishing the US Military will change the landscape of whatever country was behind it forever... the attempt at understanding a a new war that was to be waged that is tinged with a religious aspect that the Western World does not seem to understand completely, the quiet mourning for people I didn't know, that the world didn't know and yet in an instant, we all had but one degree of separation. I've witnessed as through the years it has all become a note on political landscape, yet another reason to play the blame game every four years. I also saw the heart of a city catch it's beat again, never stopping, unbreakable. I'm just glad that through all this, "mercy" stayed with me.

Which brings me to the latest point of contention and you know this is coming. "Park 51 Project" was going to take center piece on my little musing today, until it's crazy brother "International Burn a Koran Day" reared it's ugly head in my own backyard.

Before anyone starts thinking how the hell can I raise two disparate things to the same level, well I was never good at math, but one thing that I really liked about numbers it that they all had a lowest common denominator. At the heart of the matter of these two separate issues lies a simple truth: just because you are granted to do something, doesn't mean you have to, doesn't make it right.

Lots of people have risen up to criticize president Obama on his declarations about Park 51 Project (that's how it's called although it is AKA Ground Zero Mosque). Obama might not be my cup of tea as many know, but I will grant him the fair chance to go over ALL his words in the matter. I will paraphrase boys and girls since you are smart enough to look up your sources, The President granted the right to build, but also declined to comment on the wisdom behind the decision.

Everyone knows that nothing will stand if the ground is not ready and although NYC rises on a bedrock, the emotional landscape is not ready, not yet, because the collective has not found their peace.

My advise to the people behind Park 51, build it if you must, but build it as a bridge, open it to Jews and Christians and openly condemn those who thirst for violence. In order for all to heal, you can't keep your religion and your intentions veiled from the city (ALL puns intended). If you have to build it there, then do so and preach it hard, for the world to hear:

"Oh man kind , you where created from a single soul, male and female, and made you into nations and tribes, so that you may come to know one and other. Truly the most honored of you in Allah's sight is the greatest of you in piety. Allah is all knowing, All aware." The Quran 49:13

It is time, in the best interest of all, that moderate Islam articulates heavily and vehemently their opposition to the radicalization of their religion. I would have given my right arm to hear the words Mecca condemns you, the Prophet abhors you and Allah will show no mercy in relation to Osama bin Laden back then, or even now. That alone would have won the war on terror. It is the challenge to those behind Park 51, they owe it to us all, to live by their book in it's purest undiluted interpretation. It is not my book, it's yours, it is not my opportunity, it's yours. Use it, and do so well. If you can't live up to what the city expects of you, of what is right to all, you have the right to build, just not there, as easy as that.

MY book says a couple of interesting things too, things that I will gladly share with "Pastor" Terry Jones, here in sunny Florida.

I will go off and I'll do so harder than I could go on crazed Muslims, because it is my Bible, my religion, my responsibility towards fellow men and my Christ on the line here.

Stop the hatred and the thinly disguised bigotry. That is not the path to healing. Stop the vicious rhetoric and the false idea that acts like this will strengthen Christianity and unite people of faith.

Christians are loosing ground in this Country because of people like you, a vocal minority that is selling us all out as grade A lunatics. I am a Christian and I live by a simple act of faith that comprises believing that Jesus is both God and His anointed one, that he came to Earth, lived, died and resurrected and will come back again to judge both living and dead.While that moment comes, as His follower, it is my call to prevent judgement by bringing about His message:

"LOVE one and other, as I have loved you" (John 15:12) It is so simple, yet so direct that the word love appears 554 times through and through... I guess my book is not your book.

Giving into this ridiculous act of mock patriotism and pseudo religious piety will not only endanger troops overseas- (Dear Pastor Terry Jones and your Yosemite Sam mustache, get ready for your Al Qaeda closeup, you'll be their recruiting poster boy, you fruitcake)- it will destroy any good faith between religions. Go ahead and burn your bridges to dialogue, if you want, but don't do it in the name of my God and my Savior, do not tarnish my faith as some other crazies in the Middle East have tarnished theirs.

If you can't speak in love if you can't walk in love, you still have the right to spew your idiocy, but take God out of the equation, place the root of you actions where they truly belong, as easy as that.

For the sake of all lost and those who are still in harms way, let's keep this day, September 11, holy to all, open to all. It is our tragedy, it is our right to rise above it without people raising their own standards in the name of us all. I'm done with my grief and will wait for the time when we all forgive the acts and never forget the lessons of 9/11.

En Español para el mundo o que carajo paso en Puerto Rico ayer

2010-07-01T05:48:00.004-07:00

El titulo nada mas les dejara saber que estoy espantada, indignada, con el muy folklorico ojo cuadrado tratando de organizar las piezas del rompecabeza informativo ( inserte su chiste alegorico a la fuerza de cho que aqui) que pude observar ayer.

Advertencia, si mis comentarios iniciales me hacen sonar como Neanderthal PNP corazon del rollo y pity-yankee residente de la Florida, no pierda su fe y siga leyendo, voy a llegar a algun lado.

Voy a cubrir el aspecto de la noticia que nadie ha cubierto. Desde ayer se esta hablando de abusos en contra del cuerpo estudiantil por parte de la Policia de Puerto Rico. Aparentemente el titular que me perdi fue "Policia arremete contra jovenes que pasivamente jugaban Monopolio frente a las escalinatas del Capitolio"... alguien debe sacar a colacion de que esto no fue una protesta de desobediencia civil a lo Martin Luther King. Nadie le solto los perros a gente que pedia o exigia (si porque el que protesta en razon tiene derecho a exigir) hacer escuchar su voz. Hubieron incidentes que dieron paso a la trsite y vergonzosa violencia que se desencadeno un poco mas tarde. No olvidemos que entre las imagenes que se vieron ayer, por lo menos aqui en Florida, se pudo observar:

Gente removiendo las barreras de seguridad y tirandolas contra la policia... porque las barreras se ven feas y hay que reacomodarlas

Individuos "bañando" a varios mienbros de la fuerza de choque, porque no hay nada mas refrescante que recibir un buen vaso de agua en la cara con 95 grados de calor... supongo que hay que ser agradecido

No nos olvidemos de mis favoritas, la boricua bestial que cruzo linea de piquete para darle un cantazo por la espalda a un guardia (si porque valen 10 puntos cada uno y te gana "street cred" en el Departamento de Humanidades) y la que decidio vaciarle su potecito de MACE individual a otro agente de la fuerza. Que ganaste con eso, mi hermana, que el tipo sacara su santo pote industrial y te lo vaciara encima.

En perspectiva, si yo hubiese estado en Puerto Rico, probablemente fuera simpatica con los asuntos de estudiantado, apesar de todo soy de las personas que piensa que la educacion es clave. De igual manera no hubiera recibido ni un cocotazo, porque aun estando ahi , hubiese entendido que el respeto es tambien clave. No hay que tener varios PhD's en serie para entender que si te pones a joder demasiado con el individuo que tiene la macana... traer esta lucha a la calle tratando de fajarse con el policia no es la respuesta. No me piensen cobarde, pero este tipo de "guerras" las gana la estrategia, no el "martirio".

Sacando esto del medio ahora le toca la zurra a la Policia de Puerto Rico y la presente administracion. El cielo se abre, hay un cataclismo, Lynnette Santiago, PNP, pity-yankee por excelencia e hija de policias esta apunto de decir, se pasaron carajo.

Quien me conoce lo sabe, en mi casa mientras vivi en Puerto Rico se veia, respiraba, y de vez en cuando comia policia. No estoy hablando de guardias guillaos, estoy hablando de que mi santo padre paso a los anales de la historia de la Policia de Puerto Rico como Top Notch hijoeputa (love u daddy). Capitan en el area de Ponce no era facil y sin embargo sobrevivio treinta años con una reputacion del carajo y sin nada inmoral o ilegal que manchara su paso por la Fuerza. Cuando se es Policia de esa manera, de carrera, se desarrolla una vocacion que de convierte en un respeto profundo hacia la comunidad que se sirve. Por supuesto que no todo el mundo le caia bien a nivel personal o politico, pero a la hora de coordinar, proteger y servir lo hacia ne beneficio de TODO el pueblo de Puerto Rico, porque eso es lo que sucede cuando un policia se reconoce a si mismo como un representante del gobierno. Trabajas para la Administracion y protejes a los que estan en su contra ideologica de igual manera.

La policia que vi ayer no es la Policia de mi papa, si bien se establecio que hubo causa, la retribucion fue sin lugar a duda brutal, desmedida e innecesaria. Verguenza, verguenza y hasta lagrimas es lo que provoca alguna que otra foto que esta dando vueltas por ahi. Es verdaderamente impactante observar una foto donde un policia tiene a mano su arma de reglamento, afortunadamente no paso a mayores, pero es imperdonable. Un arma no es un metodo de contencion, por el amor de Dios, que hubiera pasado si se hubiese descargado un disparo? Cuando aquellos que estan dispuestos a proteger y servir se convierten en un cuerpo de agresion, no se queje mi amigo si la conducta civil se vuelca en caos.

Cosa que me deja preguntando, donde carajo esta Fortuño en todo esto? Aparentemente el Sr. Rivera-Shatz es el gobernador de este triste 100x35 que alguna vez se conocio como La Isla del Encanto. El mundo esta apunto de acabarse, porque voy a hacer un endoso extraño. Fortuño, es hora de bregar como Obama, si en realidad va a ser "your way or the highway" es tiempo de encarar a tus constituyentes y poner las cartas sobre la mesa. Es obvio, cariño, que no vas a ser re-electo, coño, no lo jodas para los demas. Toma las riendas de tu gobierno y haz algo. Demonstraciones como la de ayer merecen atencion. Louis D. Brandeis, un tipo mas interesante e inteligente que tu y que yo lo dijo ya una vez " Si quieres respeto por la ley, haz la ley respetable"

Adios desde Florida donde ys es suficiente con el bendito derrame de petroleo que llego hasta Sarasota!!!!

Twi-fy... choose your monster

2010-06-26T17:34:00.003-07:00

Eclipse is about to be released and I have renewed my Twilight feud, as always. The other day I was having this discussion with a guy at my job, hardcore zombie fan, you know and he had the face to tell me that vampires were nothing but cry-baby bitches. Point being that both vampires and werewolves (specially vampires, since Anne Rice penned Interview) have been lending themselves to this ideals of stoic romanticism that lead to Twilight, etc, etc, etc.

I told him that paper will carry any crap people write on it and he told me that certain monsters has a street cred that could just not be " Twi-fied", whatever that means.

I told him that the tween demographic was so frigging unreasonable that they could buy anything, as long as it followed Stephanie Meyers, rule of thumb: that monsters are not really monsters, but supernatural people with acceptance issues. That all you need to do in order to Twi-fy anything is use certain code words and deprive your monster of one basic characteristic, vampires no longer lust for blood, werewolves no longer thrive on violence and zombies simply wont eat brains. I told him that I could twi-fy a zombie in 200 words or less and here it is, for your displeasure. I didn't even bother giving them another name, Bella and Edward in TWIBIES, two hundred words or less.

The smell of earth lingered in his clothes as he clawed his way out of the grave. His once beautiful hands are now scarred and welted. The hunger pangs and fast, flashing memories are competing for supremacy. Unlike many affected by the virus, Edward has discovered a trace of reason still, and all his thoughts, however brief, are about her. He'll drag himself tonight, as he did so many times before when he was alive, to her window. He'll watch her sleep and fight the need to tear her apart. He will be strong, for her, because one day they'll be together. He tries to utter her name and the guttural sound that emanates from him is both surprising and saddening...

Bella woke up to the smell of mud and formaldehyde, running towards her half opened window. The wind battered the old frames and through the night, she'd hear a sound that was almost a whisper. The rising sun was cruel, playing it's tricks. He stood there, so close, so dream-like. She couldn't know he was nothing more than a lump of rotten flesh. The dead, standing in the sun, look like statues of china white and smell like hyacinth.

There ya go, zombies twi-fied in 200 words using the Meyer's formula, shitty, incomprehensible blabber and something nice to take your mind off the unpleasant sight of the living dead, you gotta love the smell of zombie in the morning!!! Pay up Mike!!!

On Gods and Nostalgia, or why I dont buy into Titans...

2010-04-02T15:55:00.006-07:00

It's deja vu all over again in Hollywood land and the remake du jour is Clash of the Titans. It is by no means an unwatchable film, in fact it's quite enjoyable if you are in for an action packed movie. However, if you are a big fan of the Hero's Journey and certain gods of the Greek pantheon, well... it is a grand action packed movie indeed.

Must start by saying I am not a purist. I mean, I loved the original as a child, but even then I found Bubo the owl the ridiculous and without purpose. When this movie was marked for reincarnation, I was flipping with joy. I honestly believed that digital, CGI magic could do justice to the world of myth I loved. I was wrong. This "Clash" is a whole different ball game and it only made me feel a bit of nostalgia for the 1981 version that gave me, if not great special effects, a hero with a heart, gods who shared our imperfections and, although campy at times, a step by step hero's journey.

Both movies are a free interpretation of the myth of Perseus and Andromeda, one so deeply engraved in tales of old that it's main characters were literally exalted into the stars. (Check your constellations, boys and girls, while the nights are still crisp and clear.)

The one thing that I liked about the gods in the original 1981 is that all characters were played straight, as they were designed by the ancients. On this version, maybe in order to achieve a measure of plot "originality" the writers decided to shift the weight of the events from the whim of a number of gods to an evil machination from Hades, of all deities.

As I said, not a purist film wise, but the decision to make Hades the bad guy in this one tore me apart. There is a reason why Hades was not in the first movie and it's simple. Of all gods in the Greek Pantheon, Hades didn't play games. Unlike his brothers, he hardly frolics around chasing skirts. He ruled over the dead, which was quite a handful and showed himself to be the most passive and compassionate of the Olympians. KNOW YOUR GODS, PEOPLE and spare me the discomfort of watching Ralph Fiennes delivering a wonderful performance completely out of place!!!!!! That is only the first of a few pet peeves that kept me going hmmmmmmpppffft... but I'll get to them later.

Three minutes into the film, anyone with the least amount of knowledge of Greek myth knows they writers dug a whole from which it will be difficult come out of. We get to meet Perseus (Sam Worthington fresh out of Avatar, I guess as he has an unexplainable buzz cut in a world in which all men sported long locks) anyhooo, boy Perseus has problems, anger management problems, and daddy issues that do not allow him to see beyond his rage. He is set on an impossible task: to kill the God of the Dead. Knowing it is a given fact that gods are eternal, well... duh.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a hopeless romantic, but romance is meant to be at the core of this myth. To quote the best of cliches, it is understandable that they didn't paint the new TITANS the least shade of pink because it is impossible to love another if you can't love yourself. And Perseus loathes himself, or at least the god part in him. It is impossible to go through a journey of self discovery if you insist on rejecting 50% of your findings, no room for growth. Perseus is a hero I don't care about because he whines and bitches way too much. He is good with the sword though, and that will deliver really cool actions scenes, scenes that would make me go wheeeeeeeeeeeeee if this were any other Greek guy, but he is supposed to be Perseus. Once the motive of the quest is fueled by revenge there is no room for wonder, or fun, or even love. There is peril, a couple of chuckles courtesy of quest companions and sexual tension between Perseus and... I wont tell you anything about the new addition, but it is not Andromeda and she might as well have a big neon sign that reads "Hi, I'm the new and improved Bubo the owl, I'll get in unnecessary trouble and bring info back and forth."

Well, our wound up hero meets the designated monsters:

Calibus, Giant Scorpions, Stygian Witches, Medusa, Calibus again, the Kraken and finally the dreaded mano a mano with Hades. I would go over each one of these encounters one by one, but I rather keep the two that really caught my eye, even as a child. There is not a single person that saw the original TITANS that didn't think Medusa was the coolest monster ever. I loved her, and I loved the witches as well. As a child it was just a fascination that emanated from sheer creepiness, but growing up, I learned to respect the girl power behind the Gorgon and the Grey Ones. You see, there nothing more fearsome than women who know too much or women who wont mind looking at men straight in the eye, and turn them to stone... no wonder these were monsters of old. My greatest disappointment were the witches. They were not women, in fact they seemed clones in process of Pan's Labyrinth's Paleman. Medusa was cool, but not really scary, in fact she looked- and vocalized- like a spoiled rich girl with a bad hair day. Perseus saw nothing, learned nothing, respected nothing as he advanced through the desert and met with DJINN!!!!!

Errrr... either someone was trying to exploit a tie-in with Prince of Persia or someone didn't tell the stupid writers that DJINN are part of Middle Eastern mythology. Now that I think about it, there might be a slight political message behind it, as the djinn hardly spoke but to say "together" as in "let us band together to defeat Hades who is the harbinger of the real terror war" ( I'm not even drinking, I swear) Congratulations Shiek, you are the token friendly Arab....

Must say, I did love the Kraken- who is a Nordic monster by the way, but let's forget about it and rally behind the fact that he is a sea creature son of Hades... I guess Poseidon was shooting blanks. Arrghhh, let me stop the hatin'... the Kraken IS magnificent in design and execution and perhaps the one monster that sorely needed and met the required improvements from the original.

All and all it is a great action film that showcases Worthington's ability to play someone who is half human half something else, yet again and will no doubt solidify his action hero status. But when in a movie, the most memorable and lively character is the God of the Dead, well something's gone amissing.

The quote: Is not really a quote, just that we all got a kick out of watching Liam Neeson, strike a GQ pose and say " Release the Kraken." I've tried it several times running through different accents and nothing yet beats the puertorrican " Meeeeeeeeeeera aqui noy mas que hablal, sueltate al Kraken"

Goodnight boys and girls

Good Friday

2010-04-02T07:07:00.002-07:00

Today is one of the most important days in Christendom, second only to Easter Sunday. As I do my daily web round, I'm bombarded by all kinds of religious sentiment, much of it asking to stop and mediate in the matter of Christ's death. After reading five of these writings or so, I came to the conclusion that the writers were confusing the word meditation with mourning.

All of these lectures were aimed to make me feel guilty of sorts, thus proving to be completely ineffective. A true Christian should not be saddened by this day, let alone go back to the never ending "mea culpa" for 24 hours.

See, this is the heart of the matter. There is a man, who is also God. I'm talking in present tense because the basic tenant of my faith is that this man, called Yeshua, came about some 2000 years ago and gave his life for me, and rose from the grave. Upon doing so, he gave everyone who cares for it, the most intense taste of freedom ever given to mankind: the complete assurance of eternal life.

Eternal life will happen sometime, somewhere, in the mean time, this rich, crimson liquid gift of His has a strange side effect. Jesus made us passengers, strangers in a strange land, until we are called home. Some people see this as a challenge and they live their lives grim and in the sour side of Christianity, asking for deliverance of this world and it's absurdities. I am more of a Travel Channel kind of girl. I carry my passport, yes I do, but I will travel.

Stop meditating in sorrow and go out there. We were never meant to grief, not for ever. There's a lot of laugh and laughter in the Gospel, most of all, loads of forgiveness. Go out and explore, meet people you think challenging and try to fit them into God's Plan (after all you didn't design it and in His infinite wisdom He included EVERYONE!!!!), throw in a random act of kindness, enjoy the beauty this place called Earth has to offer live life simple as it was meant to be lived: loving one and other.

To Kendra on her Birthday

2010-03-25T07:04:00.003-07:00

If memory serves me right, it was a Wednesday, trapped between the joy of Palm Sunday and the sorrow of Good Friday. I traveled one hour and a half to see you come into this world, and got there in the nick of time. (Well thank your mother as always, with her rushes, no one thought a first timer would deliver so quickly!!!) Anyhoo, I got to the hospital wing as they brought you out. I must say, and I'm not lying, that you were the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. Those brown eyes of yours were open wide, wanting it all, welcoming the world as much as it welcomed you.

You are the only person I ever wrote a poem for. You are made after my own heart and I've certainly got a kick of getting you to recite Poe and Blake at 3 years old. While most people were doing "Twinkle Twinkle," you kept going "Tyger, Tyger"... the point is, I am grateful to God and your mother for whatever hand I've had in your life. I told you once, since I don't have any of my own, TAG KIDDO, YOU ARE IT!!!!

So, to Cookie, the Great Ken Ken, our own Private Rockstar and the Little Monster we all know and love, Happy B-Day. You are officially a teen!!!!

Keep it up, keep working for those dreams, love always and many many blessings,

Lynnette

Something funny happened on my way through Bruce B. Downs

2010-03-13T16:08:00.002-08:00

The following, as most of my ramblings is based on a true story, the embellishments are all mine as well, although it is not intended to count as short fiction.

I was going back home after a long day at work. Though I must not make boast of my little vices, I was all over the place, with phone and radio and thoughts for the weekend while trying to keep alert for that space of consciousness that will spare me half a second to react to road peril.

Somewhere between making an overnight deposit and assuring myself via Flixter that Clash of the Titans was not set for this week's release, something made me wind down and slow my steady 65 mph pace.

Thinking back, I shouldn't have been as distracted as I was by what I saw, after all, I live in a place called Land O' Lakes. There's bodies of water everywhere. Bodies of water and patches of wild.Even in a matter of 24 hours when it rains as hard and as long as it did yesterday, a simple puddle will be exalted, you know, cause puddles dream too.

Anyhoo, as I said there was a vast, extension of water that was not there yesterday, right in front of a construction site. There she stood, completely out of place, walking betwen the still waters and discarded timber and trash. She was no more than a girl , eighteen to early twenties perhaps. I cannot say wheter or not she was beautiful because I could not see her face. She was thin and tall and her hair was long and straight and dusty blond. Although I didnt get to see them, I bet her eyes were cold and blue.

I tried to concentrate on her, blocking both the traffic and Michael Hutchence, dead and gone for over ten years who was trying to tell me that we all have wings but some of us just don't know why, and as everything flashed before me: people and song and patch of wild and long haired girl holding to her long sleeve black sweater as to dear life, it crossed my mind that I was not seeing someone, but something.

As a matter of seconds, as she moved the sky went from weak blue to gray, to silver streaked purple, I held my breath with the unmistaken feeling that I was in the presence of something that is bigger than I. It happens like that with me, and I know God forgives me when sometimes I become a little pagan and I sing a little song to the wind and the long, cold, starry nights.

The DJ mentioned not to forget to spring forward tonite, he whined a scripted grievance about loosing an hour of sleep and announced the next song. And I said, thanks, and I'll see you next year, in the meantime, your younger sibling will come, and take your place and bring light and life to us all...

Mad Hatters and other matters

2010-03-05T18:19:00.007-08:00

It seems as of late I've been doing nothing but watch movies. Anyhooo... got around to see Alice in Wonderland in 3D. I understand why this movie is either a hit or miss and will divide critics and audiences alike. Haters will conjure their own failed expectations, as far as myself, I left the theater loving a tale that I didn't care for as much as I should have when I was a child.

First time I really, really read a decent bit of Alice in Wonderland I was in college, well in my 20's, trying to get a grip of Literary Nonsense in the 19th Century... I breezed through it as I did through Chomsky and his colorless green ideas, if you catch my drift. The funny thing is that back then, as a twenty something i was able to make connections that I just couldn't figure out as a child, and I came to the realization (back then I thought it was my great stroke of genius) that the original story with it's excessive meanings, formal discourses and hyperboles was not meant to be a children's story. Alas, I was not alone, apparently Tim Burton thought the same...

I don't know if it is because I just had a birthday, but lately I have been thinking about my own childhood and how adulthood and experience distorts memories or creates fears that were not there before. Sometimes things are sacrificed in the altar of maturity, things no one should ever part with: imagination, true bravery, fearlessness and simple faith.

Alice has grown, and as expected, she had dismissed it all as a dream, until one day she falls through a hole again and visits a world she thought forgotten. It is there she learns that she is not the only girl to ever fall through, yet the only one crazy enough to make sense out of madness.

I loved the introductory arc, as she faces friends and fiends from the past and tries to fit them into what is meant to be the frame of mind of a Victorian Era young lady. I loved the sense of self discovery and fear of not fitting in what she though was the world she belong to while slipping deeper and deeper into places she initially reacted against.

The following will make no sense....

For a child who once was fearless, or perhaps in the verge of madness (watch out for the spinster aunt as Burton indicates in his adaptation that Alice could have some genetic disposition to buy real state in Wonderland) the place she visited as a child was full of magic and adventure. As an adult, it is a nightmare from where she constantly asks to wake up until she notices it's time to nut up or shut up... (yes I liked Zombieland as well).

For those who wonder where did the fun go... it is meant to be this way. After all is it a process of discovery and those are never fun filled. After years of automated waking up, heating the tea, going out to make some money at a corporate job, going back home and catching movies in the weekends, Alice finds a caterpillar that tells her "you are not Alice." Of course the woman will insist saying she is, but deep inside she knows she is but a subject with a high table of expectations and a very well traced path before her, and that was one rabbit hole she should have never fallen through. Sorry my dear, but when your boss gives you an order, you just paint the roses red without hesitation, if you know what I mean.

It takes her a lot of pain and agony to break from the design and believe in herself, unfortunately, we are not given the chance to see what Alice will do with her second chance as we are offered but a glimpse of her real world plans. Second chances, after all, like the blue caterpillar said, might come in disguised as painful, scary matamorphoses, but they might as well lead you to another life, and it's a chance worth taking. Would it be much to wish for a sequel? For Alice to return perhaps in her 40's... I believe Ebert proposed it and I an rallying behind him :)

There were just a couple of things that I hated... after all the fireworks and stunts AVATAR had to offer the 3D in Alice was bland in comparison. It is the type of 3D effect that offers depth instead of jumping out of the screen, and it is understandable as Burton relied a lot on the eyes of certain characters, like the Hatter or Chesire Cat.

Stop>>>>> I just remembered. Let's sing an Ode to Johnny Depp, who can be anyone and do anything and not repeat himself. His weirdly dilated pupils indicative of massive brain damage and impressive carrot top could have reduced any other actor to a caricature, but he pulled it through!!!!... Okay, I'll keep the hating now, it's but a little bit, though...

Crispin Glover!!!!! The man's a freak by himself, let him be!!!! I hated that they animated his body with a CGI technique that made him look paper thin (like the card he is meant to represent) but damn, it took so much away, completely distracting and unnecessary.

All in all it was a better experience than anything I've seen this year, including Frigging Avatar, that will probably sweep the Oscars anyway... Sheez is cold in here, gotta go now.

The Quote:

The hatter: Have I gone mad?

Alice: I'm afraid you are completely bonkers, but let me tell you a secret, all the best people are...

The Wolfman 15 bullets or less

2010-02-21T17:18:00.003-08:00

My Spanish attempts at writing 'bout movies failed. Maybe is just that I don't feel like writing in Spanish about this one, on fear of disgorging a never ending ramble.

I really, really wanted to love this movie. The fact that I just plain liked it instead of hating it completely furthers more the sense of disappointment.
It's a full moon out on Hollywoodland, gather round your rifles and load them up in silver boys and girls....

The following disclosure ensues. I hate werewolves as much as I love vampires. I guess it all started with THE HOWLING, back in 1982, wrong, movie, wrong time to watch it; and the frail psyche of a nine year old girl was torn forever. Perhaps is because, psychologically, I like my monsters subtle. I rather plot my sweet revenge with words that cut deep than rip your heart to shreds literally. However, it is not the gore that drove me away from the film. The gore is in fact, the expected amount out of a flick about a guy that turn into a beast every 28 days. I was bothered by other type of furry, horrid creatures: plot bunnies.

I had all needed to love this movie: a glorious Gothic setting, a haunting score, Sir Anthony Hopkins and Benicio del Toro... yummy. What went wrong, you might wonder:

The elements of the original are all there, they even have props straight out of the Universal lot (hellooooooooo cool silver tipped Wolf cane) they have the elements of what is perhaps the best put together mythos in Hollywood history, the wolfsbane, the full moon, the silver, the gypsy curse, the mark of the beast AND THEY DO NOTHING WITH IT. Who ever penned this movie, gave honor to the fanboys and fangirls of Universal Horror by not going into details all of them know, however, they are pandering to an audience whose only affection for the werewolf lore is sporting "Team Jacob T-shirts." If you are going to give me the real Gothic sense of a tortured soul, put some background to it. Do not assume I understand, make me!!!
One other thing, Benicio del Toro is a juggernaut of an actor. Sir Anthony Hopkins is a force to be reckoned with as well, it is not Emily Blunt's fault at all, that they just chew her up, - all puns intended- she just disappears between the two. I never bought it, the angle on Gwen, and there is no point of a love interest if it's not going to be pivotal. They point to a certain rivalry between father and son that sparks out of this character, and yet I am not convinced enough she was worth it. It all felt too rushed and kind of confusing.
I loved the score, although I could swear I hear a bit of Bram Stoker's Dracula in there.
Hugo Weaving was nothing but a plot device and badly placed of all things. I just hated the way things turned out for his character.
NOT ENOUGH GYPSIES!!!!!!!! I've had my say

I loved the construction of Talbot's character in general, that ability of Del Toro to emote, even through layers of make up. I loved the old school feeling of it, you know, the prosthetics instead of the over the top CGI. I loved they used that haunting rhyme that sounds ancient although it never existed prior to Curt Siodmak "Even a man who is pure at heart and says his prayers by night may become a wolf when the wolf bane blooms and the Autumn moon is bright." That little lines says more about human nature than anything else.

Better than I expected, not as much as I would like it to be. I'll watch it once more out on DVD, and that is all I can promise.

The Little Theology Corner Presents: Of Saints and Charlatans

2010-01-28T20:23:00.002-08:00

God loves me and I love Him. Some people just don't get the fact that that statement is bigger than anything you might find weird about me- i.e. God loves me and I love Him even if I've read a vampire book too many or if I freely and creatively use the F word in ways and forms civilized people were never meant to.

But I am not talking about my work in progress. This is a rant derivative of observation of human conduct in general as it affects the perception of a faith I hold dear.

See, there are people that actually believe they carry God in their pocket, that Jesus just put up a show and that the Holy Spirit can be commanded to go on 3,2,1... as is it where some carefully planned 4th of July Firework extravaganza. For those people I couldn't care less, against those people I will rant to the death, I will hunt them down and expose them for what they are because they deserve what is coming to them. In other words, excuse my French, because this is gonna get ugly.

These piss me off dudes not only follow their own weird understanding of the Bible, but use it with the purpose of manipulating and extracting money out of the faith of the weak minded. These bastards live by the good old motto "Misery loves Company" and they sell themselves as men of God as the Skin Oil Salesmen would sell themselves as men of medicine in the once Wild West. They know they are preaching lies and they don't care, it is a game to them. The people who are listening though, believe and in their ignorance they let themselves be dragged by these charlatans into following emotion. " Yessssssssssss, brothers and sisters, come to the 8:00 PM sermon to Power of God Shake you like a Polaroid Picture!!!!! Bring your wallets."

For every poor, miserable soul that converts in these Carnivals of Faith, there are at lest 10 that will abandon church when these charlatan preachers are exposed for what they are: FUCKING LIARS WITH NO CONCEPT OF SCRIPTURE WHATSOEVER.

At this point, it is pretty obvious that I am mad.

Sometimes I think of Jesus in his aspect of Man. I see a guy traveling on foot through one of the most inhospitable terrain on Earth, bringing forth a message. He knows that He has a limited time: 3 years to reach out to the world. It will just not happen, not by itself. So he leaves his disciples saying " You will do greater things than I" (John 14: 1-12) Guess what you morons, let me tell you a few of those greater things that you can do:

You can spend more time reaching to those in need of the Word of God

You can, with a random act of kindness, preach more than words can say, you know, there is something about showing God's love in a practical way that appeal to the masses.

Go forth and preach it, to the ends of the world with kindness in your heart and truth in your speech.

Under no circumstance Jesus said "You will do greater MIRACLES than I did." or "go about, boys and girls, boast about turning water into wine and make money off it while you are at it."

This post is dedicated to so called Evangelist Dionny Baez, the preacher of the "new Generation" when God's word is not enough. The man of Signs without Logos. I think about this bastard and how he laughs his way to the bank turning bottled water into wine and parading Bibles glued with " Divine Glitter" and it makes me cringe. If I am pissed, I cannot even imagine how the Lord must feel. While hundreds of idiots follow this guy blindly wherever he goes like Deadheads on an eternal Summer Tour, there are people who are risking life and limb by preaching a simple message of faith in countries where it can cost their lives to do so. As I type this, there are churches around this country, of all walks of Christendom that are receiving the bodies of their dead missionaries, who lived through thick and thin and eventually died along with the people of Haiti.

Don't take this the wrong way. I honestly believe that there is a supernatural element at work within the Church (Mark 16:17-20), heck, I've seen things that look like ripped out of the pages of John Constantine's journal, or Neil Gaiman's Silver City. Scary, beautiful, edifying stuff. The key to it all is that the experience is just part of a process of internalization of the word of God. If after the sermon the only thing you remember is that the preacher turned the water into wine or showed you a glittering page of the bible, there is something wrong, wrong, wrooooooooong with the message and the messenger. If you are in for tricks Criss Angel is the man for you, his illusions will kick Dionny's parlor tricks into Kingdom come, it will blow your mind away.

Everybody knows it, come one repeat after me John 1:1 "In the beginning there was the WORD and the WORD was with God and the WORD WAS GOD." It is not about the emotion of the delivery, but about the content of the message. This guy is playing with ignorant fools and so called seasoned church goers alike because they have lost their way, because this world has become less inclined to faith and more inclined to acts. Prove it, Prove it Lord, they say. I have a word for you. GOD is God and HE owes shit to no one. He doesn't have to prove Himself to Atheists, he doesn't have to prove Himself to church goers. To demand of God a parlor trick each time His name is called upon is to cheapen Him an equate him to your trained poodle who will dance for a treat, or your adoration, in this case.

I guess what I am trying to say, is that I am waiting for the day this charlatan is put to shame, in the mean time, I'm on a Crusade sign up and let's keep this imbecile from further diminishing the Word.

A true story...

2010-01-18T15:08:00.005-08:00

Tossing and turning... somewhere something hurts, but it is a dull pain, so I ignore it. I have places to go, things to do, but before I must meet someone at this bar.

At first I don't seem to recall who is it that I am supposed to talk to, but I have the feeling I'll know as soon as I see her, and there she is.

It's been a while and although I stay the same she had changed, a lot, but then it is her nature. Her frame is much like mine, wide, thick boned, but somehow she managed to make it look like she's at least 50 pounds lighter. I roll my eyes and fake a deep sigh... yeah I know. I gotta find out how to loose pounds of my own, but is so easy for her, I'm not even going to bring it up.

Her getup is black on black as expected, the only traces of color come from a shirt with digital clocks fading into a silver landscape. A Dali motif would have sufficed, but she had to make sure it is drained of personality, spark or life.

I smile, a mechanical customer service smile. She dismisses my gesture while finishing a cigarette just to start another. Her hair is blond with a hint of platinum highlights. It looks carefully disheveled. I've been planning to lighten a couple of tones for at least a month now, but something tells me she knows about it and beat me to it. It will never look as good in me, not after she's done it. A perfectly manicured hand with long silver tipped nails hands me a glass. She's been drinking Bushmills. I decline.

"What's up?" - she says, with perfect British accent. And it crosses my mind how come she sounds like this? Perhaps is because it is plain bad ass, or because of recent exposition to one Guy Ritchie film too many.

"You tell me" - I replied, in Spanish and I do so quickly and with the confidence she will understand , she always does, no matter what or how I say it.

" Today's conversation is sponsored by the word mediocrity." She stretches, as to compose herself and I can see an intricate tattoo that was not there before. A Celtic knot. I feel like I have to go someplace, but right now I don't remember exactly where is it I was meant to go.

" Don't get distracted now lassie" she tells me and I am positive she is using the word with the intention to mean bitch instead of as a term of endearment. "You are getting soft, have been standing in the same place for too long. Comfortable in your skin, that's what you say. I say you need to move on or drown."

I hated her for a second, I swear, but I had to let go. I even smiled when I noticed she was wearing an ID sticker with big bold red letters that read HELLO my name is LITTLE MS. JUNG. To fight her is to give myself a headache good enough to carry into my waking moment.

" Quite the sense of humor there you bastard" - I said dryly.

"Right back at ya" was the last thing I heard.

I woke up with a sense of whiskey and cigarettes, annoyed at my shadow and pissed at myself.

PROCRASTINATORS>>> UNITE/ EL MUVI BLOG

2010-01-15T15:11:00.002-08:00

Hmmm... it's been a while since I posted anything. As always life gets in the way of all the trivial stuff that should be filling these cyber pages. There ya go, reason #123 on why I will never be a successful writer. Nevertheless I keep typing away for peace of mind's sake and out of sheer boredom... Sometimes, however, people just challenge me to do something worth my while. Today the honor becomes the divine Ms. Michelle, my tireless movie companion and partner in passion for fashion crimes.

Short, sweet and simple, Michelle dared me to try out the vernacular for a while. She challenged me to be constant and true with it. Hell, the girl even gave me a subject. There are several things that I love which I never get tired of: writing,-although I am a pussy of a writer, prone to chronic procrastination- and movies. Michelle asked me to do my movie reviews in Spanish for a while, just for kicks, just to get reacquainted with the language of my birth. You know, to stop using my long list of Anglicisms, like "rulear" and "refusar" etc., etc., etc. No, I'm not a slob "comemierda" that has forgotten the Spanish language, it is just that I am darn lazy about it...

My first try will be DAYBREAKERS, which I would usually welcome with open arms, however I have this things about blood suckers and Spanish, they just don't translate well. There's something about the verb "chupar" that just doesn't cut it, but I'll do it nevertheless, for the next six months all my reviews will be in Spanish... vamos pa' alla en el "muvi blog"

Ultraviolet.... no one expects the British Inquisition

2009-12-29T07:11:00.006-08:00

Right now I'm typing on a borrowed computer , while suffering a bit of cabin fever, confined in the perimeter of Palm Cove during what could be the most boring Christmas vacation ever .
A couple of things saved me from suicide of the mind... the fab 42 inch flatscreen/home theater combo (thanks Santa) and Mariah's yearly reminder that in fact I will watch all vampire films/ series ever created. Thanks my friend. I really loved this piece of the BBC, and in other circumstances I would write a through, insightful review, but I need to entertain myself... so here it is, a brief trivial list on HOW MUCH I LOVE ULTRAVIOLET

Emotional relationships with vampires, are almost by canon, doomed to fail miserably. Usually the relationship is romantic, either straight or gay. ULTRAVIOLET brings about the coolest BROMANCE ever, and congratulations to the male subjects of each species, somehow, bromance just survives, almost unscathed...
The Spanish Inquisition never made much sense, the British Inquisition, however...being as composed as they are, will manage to successfully combine government bureaucracy and religious fervor, kinda the X-Files with holy license to kill. For once, even if I don't like the Inquisition, this series made me root for the Grand Inquisitor, more than once. I just loved the cool marriage of stream data and faith. As much as it hurt this happy vamp camper, 98% of the decisions toward extermination were right on the spot.
The other 2%, though, bothered me enough to get me thinking. Of course it is fiction, but it is the scariest fiction I've seen in a while. A simple question: How far would you go to protect someone you love? If someone told you that the guy who has in his hands the opportunity to eradicate AIDS, CANCER, and all frigging blood borne patogens in the world is a guy on the top ten terrorist list of all time... would you negotiate or take him down on the spot? As I told you, I have cabin fever...

Ohhhhhhhhhh... the trivial list, yep, the cool stuff...

You will never get over your BFF being a vampire, and you know it, because you love that man... here to chicks and pints, mate!!!
If you have more than $58,000 pounds in the bank the British government might think you are a vampire.
When it comes to hunt for pedophiles, and your choices are a priest and a vampire... go after the priest, even if the vampire seems reasonable, it will shorten your investigation.
Man Bangs rocked ten years ago, in fact they did look hot, but it's time to let go, Mr. Moyer, you might have played a vampire twice, but time alone says you are not immortal.
Hurray for the vamps who run against time to produce artificial blood!!! Thanks to your clever investment in worldwide research, we got TRUE BLOOD.

Gotta go now... the quote:

"Code V, cannot be killed, only reduced to ashes..." the fun thing is to find out how they regenerate

15 things I learned from New Moon

2009-11-26T16:09:00.003-08:00

The picture on the left hand side is the sole reason why I'm not dead of boredom, so let's give a round of applause to the Ballsy Vampires of the Emo Vamp saga... since they will not get their own awesome vampire movie series... well I'll just sigh deeply and tear apart the Second installment of the Twilight Saga.

I wanted to kill this movie in 15 bullets or less, but that would be doing the world a favor, and there are not 15 plot points for me to spoil in this linear, predictable, nauseating fest anyway.

Intro: Why am I watching this? After all, I have sworn once and again to destroy everything Twilight... well, I love my nieces more than I love classic kick ass vampire movies and although I have persuaded Kendra not to loose her time around the Godforsaken book series, I just can't deny her an afternoon at the movies... after all she is too good to be the one person in her whole wide school who didn't catch the flick during the weekend.

Without further ado... these are the 15 things I learned from New Moon:

Digital cameras are evil. This horrid contraptions were made with the sole purpose of facilitating your recording events in your sad pathetic life and be a witness on how the years roll by without pity. A picture is never taken for fun or to create a cherished memory- nah- pictures are means to torture and bring about grief, even the happy ones.
After your 18th birthday, there is nothing but death and desolation in the horizon. If you don't have a man secured by your 18th birthday, you will die and old, barren woman with no life experience worth mentioning.
When there are vampires in your birthday party, please, ask for the presents to be unwrapped... paper cuts are a risk you don't want to face.
When a guy is honest enough to tell you, "the issue is not you, it's me'... you must bitch and bitch and bitch until everyone around you secretly whispers, girl, the issue is soooooooo you is not even funny.
It's good to keep a Native American friend close by, you never know when you'll need to emotionally exploit someone, and you know Indians are such an easy target... duh
There is no need for a K9 unit in your backwards town, as long as you have werewolves hanging in the woods.
By the way, never, ever slap a werewolf and while we are there... domestic violence is always right, hell it's even fun if your fiancee is a werewolf.
Go ahead, introduce a smart comment about consumerism inside the greatest merchandise juggernaut movie of the decade and keep a straight face... anyhooo, 95% of your audience wont catch it.
There is a small town in Italy were people celebrate a festival in honoring the destruction of vampires in the middle ages, and that is exactly where the Volturi decided to set their coven. Ballsy, I tell you...
If you are a sparkly vampire, you have no right to go and bother the cool Italian vamps with your sobby, mopey stories of unrequited love, if you do, then don't be surprised if they want to kick your ass for it. While I am at it... never console yourself thinking this movie might have a glimmer of hope because Dakota Fanning and Michael Sheen are in it and they are extremely talented people, because some moron will cut their scenes to about 7 minutes at all why you cry whyyyyyyyyy, whhhyyyyyy, whyyyyyyyyy!!!!!
By the way, if you see a Vampire Tour announced in at least 7 languages, do not go, is errrr, literally, a deadly tourist trap (with a bit of inside Italian Vacation Humor). While I'm at it, props to the idiots in the audience who said... OMG, are they going to kill those people? Nah....they just meant to shower them in sparkly delight, I'm sure (insert eye roll here)
Please, always pay attention to what your friends have to say, stop thinking about your obsessions. Maybe one of them dropped a big hint about being a werewolf and you just didn't notice because your mind is full of sparkle.
Sometimes people are not able to read your mind because you have a strong psychic shield, sometimes, it is because you are an airhead.
Why should you have an emo vampire after you when you can have both an emo vampire and a sick puppy of a werewolf? When your feelings are solid for one of the guys, pleeease keep the other close enough to hurt him.
And finally, the end of all troubles is, whenever you have an argument you cannot win against your guy, get his sister to vocalize her rocking humble opinion, because getting everyone involved in a very private argument is the leveled, mature road to travel.

I'm going back to my cave and hide away from the sparkle. If anything , the one thing that consoles me is that the great Ken Ken found this a scrambled plot mess, now go baby, be a good girl and finish Bram Stoker's Dracula... make auntie proud.

"Bella is alive after all... what a wonderful surprise, I love a happy ending"- Aro (Michael Sheen) being, of course kind of sarcastic.

plot bunnies

2009-11-22T10:53:00.007-08:00

I haven't eaten or slept in the last 24 hours in an effort to put things in order. Usually at this point in time I would be writing under the banner The State of My Union. The thoughts would be collected and flow steam-like. Not this time. I have so many things in my head right now that instead of a cohesive story, I'm nothing but plot bunnies hopping around, which makes for crazy rants and more trivial stuff to consume my time and honor this blog's name.

I am not mad as much as I am disappointed. The level of disappointment is high because I was let down by myself. See, I try to look for good in all, specially people. Sometimes people are complete idiots, and yet I can find a connection. With idiots, I usually go for the nurturing side of me. I do my best to help them adapt and shine in their brief moments of possibility. Now, when people pose as idiots and I don't sniff it in time, I leave myself exposed in all my vulnerability. As of late I have been covering some one's ass in order to avoid them trouble, because I thought this person to be a lovable idiot, a pet project. Against all my sensors, the lovable idiot was nothing but a scum sucker out to get me, and I just recently found out. I went through the stages: surprise, outrage, immediate response, hurt, and finally, that big, deep feeling of disappointment that's been bothering me. I hate to go on the war path, but the gloves are off. If you have me in the cross wire baby, better make sure that I'm blown away, 'cause if I make it out unscathed, I'll take my time and come for you. I'll fuck you every which way, and you will see me coming, and I won't pretend to be what I'm not to get you.

I love my perfect pink and whites, haircut shampoo blowdry style... when I feel like it, I'll flash a smile that will touch your heart, and when I really, really want to, on the chubby side and all... I have a rack and I know how to use it. However, when it comes to the very complicated dance/battle between the sexes, I tend to think like a guy, which is kinda scary, but I find it fun. So, don't even try it if yours are not bigger than mine, boy.

I change moods according to my hair color. When I'm a brunette is all shy and withdrawn. Any shade of red will be fun, fun, fun. Blond, I tend to keep away from because it will make me crash diet and use my wits for evil purposes. It will unleash my tongue, to over compensate for the possible dumb jokes. As of late, the word platinum is buzzing and burning like a neon sign in the back of my head.

Today's classic cheer is be aggressive, be, be aggressive... darn it's been a while.

I have two Eric's in my Facebook. Both of them are quite striking. One of them is a fictional character- I'm a fangirl- shout out to Viking vampires!!!, woot, woot. The other one is quite real and much the stuff of legend. Self described as a "young, elegant guy who likes to make the best out of life and who is otherwise, very much compromised" Eric Perez is God's gift to Earth, I swear. Which brings me to think, God loves us all, who are we to hate one and other? This last couple of days I was shaken to the core as I followed an incident of hate crime in the Island, and caught myself with a knot on my throat thinking, it could have been anybody. It could have been my friend. Damn you, damn you to hell, all of you that corrupt principles of love to conceive your own ill willed theologies and create monsters filled with hate.

Talking about friends, they do keep me grounded and help define me. My goal in life is to be half as faithful and true to them as they are to me, even when I'm going through one of those cult of personality phases and seem completely obscure.

A final thought, random? Not if you know me.... Remember when the cover of NEAR DARK looked like this...

How come now it frigging looks like this?!@##...

I soooooooooooo hate the Twi-Effect, ten years from now, people will look back and think, what the heck we were smoking???? Come on join me... AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!

The Quote:

"It's only possible to live happily ever after on a day to day basis."

- Margaret Bonnano

Cirque du Freak.... no spoilers

2009-10-25T07:25:00.005-07:00

Yep, there I was front line and center, because I just don't learn.... What the heck am I doing on a Saturday watching a PG-13 vampire movie? We all know how it all ended the first time around (Throw in some sparkle and screams of delight here- duh) Anyhooo, thanks to John C. Reilly, who scared the hoards of screaming fangirls with his solid acting and not so charming good looks.

First and foremost, I might have the dubious reputation of watching every single vampire movie ever made, but don't have yet the honor and the time to read all books, so no. I am not a fan of the books. I don't think the movie will turn me into one. I went for a good ol' time with a nice popcorn flick and got exactly what I wanted.

Plot wise it is simple to follow. Typical teen movie about finding your place. There were two boys who were friends, one was obsessed with vampires, the other one with spiders... once they met a vampire that had a spider for a pet and things started unfolding.

It was not the theme. but the peculiar setting of it all I found fascinating and fun. The whole morbid Cirque served as a heck of a place to start a journey of Discovery. I am not a freak, is Darren's (Chris Massoglia), marching anthem. And yet, the more he time he spends with the deformed and the odd and in cases the truly supernatural, the more alienated and sad they make him look. The crew at Cirque has come to terms with their place and function, having overcome their "emotional" adolescence. I thought the freaks wonderful, and my only regret is that I wanted more of them , ( yes I wanted to know what made the Little Biter Tick.)

Of course there will be no Vampire Assistant without the vampire who needs the assisting, which brings me to John C. Reilly. He might not be tall, dark and handsome, but he will sell it and 5 minutes into his lines, you will buy it. (Hurray for average folk creatures of the night) Single handedly the man takes apart the myth without hacking it to pieces. Crepsley, the Ring Master maintains the integrity of the vampire, while making intelligent choices.

First and foremost, they do drink blood. The consumption of blood is at the core of the vampire. Not only it is a base of sustenance, but it is the one thing that marks the moral path of the character. In Cirque's case, you can either splatter or sip it, but it's there. Crepsley's little number about the less violent approach will save you an eternity of pitchforks and fire, albeit funny, is quite logical.
Yes, we all know vampires are lonely, predatorial creatures stalking the night, but so are most of the Big Cats. And yeeeeeeeeeeees, we must all strive to hold on to our humanity... errrr the same way we did when we were alive, because there are enough man made horrors out there to make you think twice about it. One thing that I loved about this movie is the idea that the vampire itself is an extension of the human being they once where... if you were shy and withdrawn, why the heck would you turn all of a sudden in a volatile diva? There are enough bloodthirsty humans to make horrid, "vampazines," as there are average good hearted joes to make sensible vampires. Which brings me to the main point of this movie...

Be it vampire, accidental executive assistant, president of the United States, or Catholic nun... is not who you are, but what you are in this point in time, you can always embrace it, or find a way to learn from it and walk away.... did you hear that?, moping vampires of the Emo Teen Saga? your current condition, no matter how permanent might seem, will never cripple your spirit, unless you allow it too. This is a better message than love is pain and I'm an idiot, but since it was not delivered by the likes of RPatz, this will be the lesser vampire movie...

Did I mention Willem Dafoe is here, and that I'm still trying to figure out what the heck did he do? The moustache gave me nightmares though....

The quote:

Crepsley: Looking amused "Ohhhhhhhhhhh Bloooooooood"

Darren: Looking Scared ( bares his neck)

Crepsley: Mocking... "from your jugular, can't take blood from an artery, I'll just kill you that way"- and all conventional vampire stuff goes down the drain, Rilley's style....

Touch of Dead and other matters

2009-10-16T15:35:00.008-07:00

October is here, more than half way already. I didn't really notice due to minivac agenda... however, along with my thoughts, October is here again.

October is the month of convergence. No matter how much I try to avoid it, there's a happy little pagan that rejoices in me, there is also a bit of Judaism that squeezes in to bring spice to my Christian faith.

October is Sukkot and Tabernacles and being a stranger in a strange land and hoping to cross paths with people bound to change our lives. It is also a time of everlasting dusk and orange, black, crimson old and Irish. It also marks the Anniversary of my leaving New York and my promise to comeback in better shape than when I left. Nine years and counting, something tells me 2010 will bring me back to it in October to take in that particular smell, a mix of edge of winter, spark and mass transportation. It's hard to describe, and sounds nothing romantic, but it's there and belongs solely to the heart of New York. As of late, I just want it.

Anyhooo, I've been doing some light reading to deal with my True Blood separation anxiety, which lead me to pick up A Touch of Dead by Charlaine Harris. It's a short story collection taking place in the Sookieverse, sorta in between book whereabouts of Ms. Stackhouse. It is a fun read, like all things Harris, but as I read, I couldn't help but wonder how much has the HBO adaptation influenced her writing style, if only at an unconscious level.

Best example is perhaps DRACULA NIGHT in which Ms. Harris took the bold step ( and made my fangirl heart beat 3 times faster than usual) to give a shout out to Louis through no other than Pam.

By far, that was my favorite story, kinda a wacky retelling of It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, courtesy of the staff of Fangtasia and an Eric Northman shivering with antici... pation!

The fact that this particular incarnation of Pam is fiercely loyal, yet as not adoring of her maker as in the books and that Eric is a little bit somber and broodier than usual made it even funnier. This woman needs to have a talk with Anne Rice and send me straight to vampire heaven... LOL.

I did miss, and it will sound weird coming out of my mouth, the weres. I find Harris' take on high-end shifters fascinating and was looking for sorta of a Smoky Mountain Christmas at Hotshot instead of the Christmas bit GIFT WRAP, which in my opinion was the weakest of the shorts.

I'm done with my reading, and it's still October, although no one has told the State of Florida yet, 'cause it's hot and muggy and bright and I still need to wait a half hour for nightfall...

Minivacs... random thoughts

2009-10-13T20:15:00.007-07:00

Yes, it happened. I finally got some days off with cash to spare. The agonizing countdown to my I'll sleep when I'm dead weekend is done and it was worth it. Here are the shimmering

highlights:

The safe arrival of Mariah Cotto is an event all in itself. She is my BFF and to have her around guarantees a wonderful time through and through. My sisters are a triumph, the ones that life game me as well as the one God made me cross paths with. As soon as we made sure there was no post traumatic flight syndrome, it was on with the agenda....

Howl-O-Scream 2009 brought along the presence of the divine Ms. Michelle who was happy to bring her crazy peep antics and whom I just noticed, managed to dodge pics of herself... hmmmphhhfff. Although the idea of House of Vayne and vampire fashion smashion was brilliant, I found the Scarezones were not effective, in fact the werewolf scarezone which appears in the promos was nowhere to be found.... I guess the scariest thing of all is the recession we are still trying to conquer. We had fun though, laughing more than we should have. Suggestion to the organizers, for next time around...The idea of a vampire Clubhouse with a $10.00 cover fee and drinks bought on the side was not too appealing. In the words of Mariah, for an extra cover fee with no fringe benefits, they better turn us!!!! And besides, since one of the vampires in Taste of Blood dared say "You are Mahhhhnnn, now", I just didn't want to be disappointed at a Fangtasia ensemble in the Marrakesh Theater... which brings me to
TRUE BLOOD Marathon... yes, getting anyone hooked on True Blood, even if they are secretly team Sam is worth it!!!! One thing of notice that sent a shiver... at an unconscious level I have more in common with vampire BEEEEELL than I had noticed before, like I've been channeling red bangs... note to self... self, change the style as soon as you can. LOL
The only thing worthy of separating us from an unfinished TRUE BLOOD Marathon was of course U2 360. I can dedicate word after word to the funny parts that will bring about a quasi-panic attack and vertigo for the sheer height of our assigned seats... ( not only I started a U2 savings account as of yesterday, but I swore not to procrastinate when it comes to buying tickets). To the wild goose chase that was running around the four glorious corners of the Raymond James Stadium looking for the frigging car (yes, little aliens, you have won the battle of wits, you and your dizzy spell ray). The thing is all that could go wrong was nothing compared to the religious experience and all that the Gospel of Bono entails. And before someone says it is all one of my infamous hyperboles... it is religious as in the Latin RELIGARE... to reconnect with something thought to be hopelessly lost. I left that concert with a sense of community (you could actually count the countries about by listening to people around you, in fact as we ran through the concourse I captured a mental pic of a father and son wearing the same concert shirt ans said to my self, coolest way to bridge the generational gap EVER, and more than once I felt it was cool to live in the USA and believe me, as things are, sometimes people just need to remind me). Of course in every religious experience one waits for that moment of revelation and for me it was Sunday Bloody Sunday. I've always loved this song, in fact I fell in love with U2 because of it. Back in the 90's when the peace talks began and the cease fire looked feasible, I thought, well, the song is Rock n' Roll history now. Unfortunately, ever since at least one country has taken the turn to adopt that tune as their own and human nature turned the question " How long must we sing this song?" into a rhetorical one. It just broke me down and schooled me in so many ways that of course I cried, like I unashamedly cry in the presence of genius and in the presence of God. There you have it without a bit of heresy. Note: if you haven't seen Paul Greengrass' documentary style film about what started it all... rent it. Now. Going back to my mini vac train of thought there are religious experiences and then there are just plain nut, you have to be there 'cause I just don't feel like recounting...
Yes, we went to a theatrical presentation of the ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW, and there is a reason why there is no photographic evidence. I'll leave you with this http://www.cheaplittlepunks.org/index.php If you think your mind is dirty and you have extracted every single double entendre out of Tim Curry and Co. you are fucking wrong.... wrong, wrong, wrong I tell you!!!!!! The phrase "elbow sex" will haunt me for ever.
Big Cat Rescue was a little Tampa Treasure that I wouldn't have discovered if it wasn't for Ms. Lightshadow's obsession with the feline, and I'm grateful for it. Besides the beautiful wild things, I learned that J-lo and Beyonce are in fact monsters of legend. Well, I shouldn't say I learned, just corroborated.
The Dali Museum allowed us to drag the Great Ken Ken along, who was not feeling as artsy as she was feeling silly, but unfortunately, that is one of those places you need to visit to grasp, Larger than life and sublime and of course, surreal. Sorry Lysania, you just can't eat your way out of this one... and it is worth the price, even if there are no fritters involved. LOL
Opa! Tarpon Springs came courtesy of Dad, just because I didn't want the little aliens to get me lost in a place where the streets are hard to pronounce. I was a little ticked off because we got there late, after we had already eaten Greek food , when most of the shops were closed, after the last boat tour had departed and specially when the handsome, olive skinned Greek guys had gone to do whatever Greek guys do on Sunday night and left their grandpas behind :(... LOL

In all, it was fun fun fun, thanks to all who lend a hand and Ms. Lightshadow, I haven't been able to sleep thinking I owe you the easiest thing there was to get.... a SONIC shake!!!!

EUREKA!!! I've found it

2009-08-15T20:51:00.017-07:00

This weekend came across as a great leap in the advance of my TV Land influences as I proved myself able to answer 32 out of 35 questions correct in a Test regarding Ethics in Medicine just by watching re-runs of THE PRACTICE and because it happened... Finally, I can scratch out that pesky note on the things I have to do before I die. I have found the vampire show that will save Western Civilization.

Well actually, my quest is more about the media that will bring about the definite return of the Vampire, because 8 years of zombies is too much to take. I'm just sooooooooo happy it is not TWILIGHT, though I must concede EMO TEEN SAGA definitely reigns supreme in it's own little world, but being me, I need my vamps with a little more depth and whole lotta meaning, things I never thought I would find it in the Louisiana backwoods. After tonight's episode however, I can assert, hands down that TRUE BLOOD is not only must see TV, but one of the most poignant contributions to the vampire myth since the arrival of Interview with the Vampire some 30 odd years ago.

It is in fact a pleasant surprise since I've never fully trusted adaptations, let alone material that was not originally conceived for TV, but Allan Ball and a very talented group of writers took Charlaine Harris original concept and knocked it out of the park.

As a Literature fiend first and vampire fangirl second, Southern Vampire Mysteries by Harris proves to be a fun read. However as it happens with pieces of writing that are not shattering in their own category, it reads like a PoBoy's guide to The Vampire Chronicles in which our heroine is involved in a weird love/hate triangle with the most pathetic version of Louis you'll come across ( vampire Bill screaming Sooookiiiiiieee is mihne!!!, more than we can bear ) and Lestat's inner child, you know, the one who should have stayed a rockstar instead of looking for spiritual insights (because Eric will always have his way or the highway with his long blond hair and his devilish smile).

What HBO delivers every Sunday is something different altogether. It is a blend of witty and funny, a hell of a lot sexier and much more social/political/humane in general than one might expect. They had reverted the vampire to what it has always meant to be, a dark mirror of the human psyche, the manifestation of Freud's infamous Id or Jung's often misunderstood Shadow.

Once in a while pop culture, when placed in the rights hands, can provide a world of insight. In this show, it's premise alone has opened a window of opportunity to bring about a whole series of subjects, some of them pleasant, most of them not. Funny thing is that for once in a long time, the point of view of both the human being and the supernatural entity are on the same level. By dragging the undead "out of the coffin" and throwing them into the daily (nightly grind), the figure of the vampire no longer needs to lurk in the shadows, or in this case, the fringe of society. They are front an center patiently waiting for mere mortals to face their fear, that when confronted with monsters of legend our humanity more often than not proves to be just "so called".

Season One was basically character set up with a bit of spice thrown in the mix, after all, it is HBO. Season Two has been coming at it as a freight train and all of the sudden, the audience finds itself questioning set views on human interactions-family dynamics of all things- morality, religion, fanatical extremism, justice, choice, compassion and forbearance. There is a lot to learn about ourselves from the archetype still, and HBO is taking us to school one Sunday at a time.

And yes because I'll be a hypocritical scholar wanna be if I didn't say so... looking at Alexander Skarsgard doesn't hurt either... I would place a quote, but I'd rather leave this... is funny as hell and will give you a True Blood fix if you happen to (GASP!!!) miss your weekly episode.

http://bloodbonds.wordpress.com/

Randomness of Thought in absence of a computer

2009-07-19T08:52:00.003-07:00

Hmmm... typing away furtively in a loaned computer.... trying to keep up with my promise to write something, anything, at least once a month.

Not that it is the most important promise to self I've ever made (shut up, you diet, don't be a bitch now!!!) It's just that this is one of the most fun to keep.

Sooo... if I were to condense the three most significant things that happened this week, I'd have to say....

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee... made if through 90 days unscathed . I'm grateful for a job I love, even if it means wearing makeup on a daily basis.

OPA!!!! Had a wonderful time in Tarpon Springs, which is the closest I'll get to the Greek Isles in quite a while. A cup of Greek Coffee can carry you through ANYTHING, I swear, and the pagan in me couldn't help but play around with the notion of reading my future off the sludge in the bottom. Everything will be a OK.

As part of my Summer " inducting the child in their due course" responsibility, I picked up THE SANDMAN: PRELUDES AND NOCTURNES. This time, I read it with the critical eye of an aunt trying to decide if her 12 year old quasi Gothic niece can handle it. Decided to wait, maybe it will make a cool Christmas present. Anyhooo, taking one volume in is not enough, so I decided to re-read the story. Off the pages of FABLES AND REFLECTIONS, fell a dedication I wrote some 11 years by. I didn't remember writing it, but it turns out that I had decided, a long time ago to give the Sandman Compendium to Kendra. My dedication was sorta dark and cryptic, like everything I wrote back when I was 24 and lived with the certainty that I would be dead by 30. It hit me, like it usually does that THE SANDMAN that I was reading at the moment is the same story I read 11 years ago, that it is me that has changed. It was quite a deep moment, a reflection on my personal changes while reading a story that is a at heart, the rippling effect of CHANGE, our need and fear of it. I tore up my cryptic and dark dedication of 11 years ago and wrote another; something to do with the wonders of being human and living here and now, not really knowing what tomorrow brings. If it's good enough for an all powerful being to forsake everything in order to be drawn to finally meet his humanity, then it is good enough for us, to enjoy what it is that even the gods can't grasp, that behind every human endeavour, no matter what the consequences, there is always a glimmer of hope and that is a beautiful thing.

Ahhhh, the quote:

" Everything changes, yet nothing is truly lost" SANDMAN, THE WAKE

Terminator Salvation... NO SPOILERS

2009-05-22T17:50:00.006-07:00

I fell in love with this Franchise at 12 years old. Pound by pound, TERMINATOR is the best movie of it's kind, in my eyes, there was no action mega star before Schwarzenegger and no visual effect magic prior to the glory of Stan Winston. The score is embedded in my psyche as the match for things larger than life.

This is the expectation I carried when I stepped into the theater today. I wanted a piece I've been craving since I first so a flash back (a future glimpse- actually) of a certain resistance leader, both physically and emotionally scarred, leading a group of ragtag humans to victory against insurmountable odds.

Those who know my cinematic preferences, know that I lean towards villains. However, John Connor is my kind of good guy: the conflicted hero with a tinge of either madness or glory. Let's face it this is one of the best developed characters on a sci-fi franchise ever, played by seven actor across 25 years through five storylines (counting, of course the TV series). I craved to see the story of John Connor delivered by Bale, you know, 'cause he is the man that does no wrong.

I got something slightly different, and after the first shock, I actually liked what I got. Although the purist in me wanted a straight forward story to be wrapped up nicely in 2 hours or less, the movie freak in me understands the window of opportunity towards reopening a successful franchise. McG took a gamble and for what I saw, it might pay off.

It is serious business to mess with the structure of a story everyone knows so well and I am still wondering about why the "big twist" was paraded around on the trailer... I should have known this movie was a set up, but what a grandiose set up it is. Flame all you want against it, the movie falls within cannon, that is the marvel of plots in which alternate time lines are a feasible reality.

This is not John Connor's movie, not yet. Once you come to terms with that it is possible to get a kick out of it. This is Connor trying to figure out a game that he believed he knew by heart. It is also the story of Marcus (Sam Worthington) and how he -errrr, literally- found his heart. In a world that looks black and white Marcus is that uncomfortable shade of gray that throws away all conviction and makes you think twice. Yes, there are lessons for Connor to learn yet, at this point in the story line. My rushed need to see him vanquish all evil in two hours or less will have to wait.

It is also the story of a very young Kyle Reese. Let me stop here for a sec and give a shout out to Anton Yelchin who will quickly become the next "IT" boy and with good reason. He alone manages to infuse the film with a certain nostalgia. Yelchin did his research and manages to capture mannerisms and expressions from his predecessor, Michael Biehn, while keeping control of his performance. That kid is just amazing and I hoped he had more screen time.

No one, purist or not will dare cross McG when it comes to action, the scenes were clean and full of all those wonderful details that a T movie should have. Then, there are the tribute moments, some subtle, some just for the fun of it, the most obvious brought cheers from my peeps at the theater.

The conclusive scene if a little bit iffy, and definitely, the weakest link , but then, after watching two hours of non stop killing machines a little further stretch of the imagination should pose no problem :p

The quote: "He saved my life. I saw a man, not a machine" - Blair Williams (Moon Bloodgood), just to make things clear...

Wolverine in 15 bullets or less

2009-05-03T18:54:00.006-07:00

It's been a while since I've slayed a movie, and honestly I really, really wanted to love this one. For a couple of hours I thought I did, but I guess it was just the company more than anything. Left to my own devices I started thinking about it and decided it's off with the critter. The following is spoilerrific, just to prove that I can kill this 2 hours of entertainment in 15 short points or less...

Hi, I'm Jimmy, future Logan and this is my brother Victor. I went all crazy and killed my dad...run guys, run, run through the opening credits (which are quite cool to be honest, perhaps the best thing about it all... someone watched the Watchmen, I guess)
These are our friends, their names are not important. Pay attention to Ryan Reynolds, he is the funny one with a bit of dialogue.
It's me Jimmy again. I just gave up this army business, changed my name to Logan and became an axe man. yes and axe man... the one nerd in the audience laughed, because it sort of sound like X-man.
I'm in love with a girl that might or might not love me, but it's OK, Victor killed her and now I'm all pissed and want adamantium infused bones.
Running naked through the woods, yes I'm running and naked until I find Superman's parents, farm and all and they give me a bike and a leather jacket.
Trying to get to Vic I meet Gambit in New Orleans which is the second coolest scene in this movie after the opening credits. gambit fangirls/boys rejoice.
I get to the place I need to find ,free the captives, fall out of love, fight Ryan Reynolds, get close with Vic. Kill Ryan Reynolds.
Now I hate Vic again, but for a little while because, bang I've lost my memory. I don't remember meeting a teenage cyclops nor did he really got to see me, so it's alright we'll hate each others guts in the future.
Where am I, what the heck, did I just forget it all ... I guess I did. Heigh- Ho off to Canadian Wilderness we go...

Nine bullets, darn that is a record. The intent was there and Jackman played it with his heart. Liev Schreiber was really good too, but Fox dropped the ball once again. This time the culprit is the dialogue and that need to make it rain mutants everywhere. There is no need for a cast of thousands, specially when you will say absolutely nothing about it. They gave the impression that this one would be of epic scale and it was so condensed, it bordered on choppy editing. I can only wait this thing is reverted to Marvel ... but one can only wish.

The quote: "No one kills you but ME!!!!"- Victor to Logan in the weirdest expression of brotherly love, ever.

100 Days of Barry O.

2009-04-29T20:52:00.002-07:00

Of course there is people far more qualified than yours truly to analize this, but I got caught in the spirit of the moment with the 2008 election and right then and there I promised to come back to President Obama within the first 100 days.

This is me and my issues. I'll try to be fair.

The war in Iraq is not over yet, but then, that is exactly what I expected. At least the parameters towards the final safe return of the troops have been established . It has been a suprising turn of events worthy of mention the change of strategy in regards to Afghanistan, which is perhaps, the greatest achievement of this administration in foreign policy.

Latin American issues do not seem to be moving fast enough. The promise of a comprehensive immigration reform within the first 100 days has been delayed, rightfully so in order to deal with more pressing issues, like the economy. That can be forgiven. However, and I consider this the great border fumble is the escalating situation in regards to the cartels. I honestly do not think money should be invested (on USA's part) to try and combat this situation without a guarantee that these contributions will not fall in the wrong hands. Mexico should have more accountability, the USA should not be stuck with the bulk of the effort.

Israel relations, the war on terror that is no longer called War on Terror... thesse issues have not yet been put to the test. I'm just happy... however the ill predictions of Joe Biden still loom over our heads .... LOL

The economy, is a gamble and we all know it. I just hope it all works out. You know W. is not the only cowboy... as Obama has shot a couple of the hip when it comes to dispose of money. It is a 50/50 and I hope it all succeeds, for our own sake.

Then there are the things the press have been covered for good or ill...

Finally there is a first dog... the good about it, the girls are happy... the down side it was not the mutt everybody was hoping for, but is their loss if they didnt get a sato...

Chavez, the hand shake., the book... who the hell cares, had Obama not said hello, then he would have had no manners (palo si boga...)
The Castro brothers are another thing. I guess the big lesson to be learned out of the negotiation table is that all negotiations should be bilateral and that Fidel actually rules the place still.
On the bright isde, it is good to see families being able to connect again.
North Korea... good it didnt come to much, but it wouldn't hurt to be able to get a binding resolution next time.
For the love of God, do not massage the Queen and the King of Saudi is not a dwarf, keep your back straight!!!!
Airforce One is a flying house sir, make sure you know who is at the wheel all the time an don't fly it close to the Statue of Liberty... EVER, AGAIN.

Looking forward to the next 100

Fangirl Attack presents DEATH NOTE

2009-04-20T19:41:00.002-07:00

Once in a while I get to police the ventures of the great Ken Ken, when it comes to reading choices. I get to ask the tough questions.

You see, I was meant to review her manga collection and chastise any choices that might be tainted with violent tendencies, etc, etc.

The title "Death Note", sorta rung a bell, so after I sat her down and asked for an explanation, I decided to give the book a try, ended reading it all in one sitting and finding the obviously necessary movie adaptation, becoming an instant fangirl before I could correctly utter the word "Shinigami"

It's been a while since I watched something that is both engrossingly complex and entertaining ant the same time, sorta Agatha Christie for the web generation.

The premise is simple enough: Outside of our range of cognition, tucked away and safeguarded by "folklore" there are death gods. Sometimes, out of boredom or unexplainable need of validation, they will show themselves to humans. These gods carry notebooks around, simple, leatherbound pampleths in which they write the names of people who are meant to die. Once in a while, to feel relieved of their responsibility, they will entrust these notebooks to humans, giving them the mantle of the Grim Reaper for a while, at a very sensible price...

One of these books falls into the hands of a young Law student called Light, who decides to become judge and jury in cases involving unrepentant criminals that had fallen through loopholes and found their way back into the streets.

What starts as one person's definition of justice, quickly becomes a moral dilemma for all : when the dispensation of justice stops being so and becomes a crime itself? Light stares one time too many into the abyss and all hell breaks loose.
Up comes a reclusive detective by the name of L. (played in a disturbing/beautiful/ almost unearthy fashion by Kenichi Matsuyama) and his ultimate goal is to uncover the evil of this Killer of Killers, no matter the cost.

To say anything else about this movie is to delve into plot twists and it is too good a thing to give away. If you have the chance to catch this little piece, please do so. Even if it is a made for TV movie, even if the CGI leaves a tinge of sour note, the story and character development are worth it. Please see it before some studio decides to make it a big budget movie starring Zac Efron and Shia LaBeouf.... I know it will happen

Concerning my judgement on Kendra's reading choices... well, I can be taught a lesson or two by the queen of tweens. In fact I was very proud of her exposition about the actions of people given the opportunity and the responsibility to make the right choices for themselves, as well as for others. She's keeping the book.

The quote:
"The Law has it's limits, as EVERYTHING should"- Shiori

The Little Theology Corner Presents: The Saturday no one ever talks about

2009-04-11T14:42:00.002-07:00

It is Holy week again, although it didn't quite feel like. For the first time in a while I had to work on Good Friday. I find myself typing away on Saturday (Sabado de Gloria in Puerto Rico) and for the first time perhaps, I'm just thinking about what this space between Good Friday and Easter Sunday means for me. Looking back, and as close as this week's schedule, I don't recall a single church activity whatsoever. Saturday is a blank slate, what seems to be a meaningless space between the agitation of Friday and the joy of Sunday. And then it hit me.

I read a Psalm this morning . I've read it before- Psalm 88- in fact is a favorite of mine. I call it the Goth Psalm as David was feeling quite comfortable with the whole dark aesthetics concept: "You have taken my companions and loved ones from me; darkness is my only friend."

What a desperate feeling, to be devoured by oblivion and loss.

That is why we do nothing on Saturday, it makes perfect sense. It is a dreadful day, worse than Friday. It is the first day without the Master for his disciples, the day in which all bets are off... if nothing happens tomorrow, then what? It is that moment after the doorposts have been marked in blood, the looooooooooong wait between promise and deliverance... Saturday is a day of choices between uncertainty and certitude. Saturday is a very personal day, to overcome doubt and experience faith. That is always a good thing.

We all have our Saturdays, it is the human thing to do, to fear and doubt and cry bitter abandonment, but it just doesn't stop there, after all we all came to the foot of the cross bound by perfect love and perfect love banishes all fear and opens doors to wonders.

The State of my Union

2009-03-31T17:38:00.002-07:00

I haven't post in a while, just waiting for things to fall back into place. Well, "peoples of the internets", as I promised, it's time to shout it onto all : I'M BACK WITH A VENGEANCE BABY!!!!!!

Let's see, where can I start... YES, YES, YES I've got a a job. Full time at a decent pay rate. After almost a year of struggle trying to survive in the worst job market environment I have ever faced, I have a lot of people to be thankful for.

Let's see... I don't want to sound like a Hip Hop artist, but it wouldn't be fair if I didn't say first and foremost THANK YOU JESUS!!! As in any other time of trial, I have learned a couple of spiritual lessons from this one. It's been a while since I had to put on the war paint and pray with conviction. I'm not talking about the "Thy will be done" with a defeatist attitude. I have learned that the will of God is unknown to us, but there is something we do have power over. We can shake it, stir it, cry out to heaven and ASK for it with the belief that it is ours by birthright.

I've also learned not to bargain with God for what I want, but to thank Him in advance for what He'll do, and it is awesome.

Thanks to my family. This last year I had to go through what no adult should ever... I went back to mom and dad. It's more than living with the folks, is that dreary feeling of hitting rock bottom and have daddy take care of your finances for a while or crawl into a ball and wail out all my frustration while mom told me I had it in me. It was relying on my sisters, aunt and cousins, even Gramps and finding that spark, that warmth, that unconditional love. It has been a blessing to be born among people that Rock, crazy as they might be.

Thanks to my friends, with special honorary mention going of course to the one and only Mariah Cotto who fearlessly opened my desperate emails and bravely listened to my feverish phone calls and never failed to respond. Thanks even to those whom I seemed to have forgotten on the course of this year. You know who you are. If at a given time I didn't answer a call or was mysteriously absent of our MSN chats, I pray forgive me, but I needed to get back on my feet.

Thanks to life in general, for being patient and kind to me, for teaching me lessons in humility that I will never forget. The odd jobs were crazy enough to be remembered fondly. Now I am venturing into something I have never delved in... I'll be a Campus Coordinator for a Beauty School. Feel free to wish me luck in my endeavor, as my idea of a spa is Apricot Scrub and an extra five minutes in the bathtub. However, I'm in it to win it, and I'll give it all I've got.

"For many people a job is more than an income, it's an important part of who we are"- Paul Clitheroe

Just because....

2009-03-17T03:49:00.001-07:00

There is not enough vampire talk on this blog. I wonder is the future of vampire movies lies far away from our shores.... this one looks good. Translation is courtesy of Aint it Cool News :p

Please grant my following requests under the name of Jesus Christ.

Please make everybody keep away from me as if I'm a leper with rotting flesh.

Please constrain the movement of my body like a patient whose arms and legs have been dissected.

subtitle: Time of death, 3:31PM

00:37

Please make everybody keep away from me as if I'm a leper with rotting flesh.

Please constrain the movement of my body like a patient whose arms and legs have been dissected

Please let me be in hell.

subtitle: A priest that became a vampire.

00:53

subtitle: You shall not kill

subtitle: You shall not commit adultery.

1:01

subtitle: You shall not covet your neighbour’s wife.

subtitle: The tempation of blood that shakes one's soul.

1:19

"Bat"

Vampire is not an immortal being.
Do you still want my blood?:

Sometimes God just asks for a chance to bring forth a Miracle

2009-03-11T16:21:00.005-07:00

Hello. I'm trying to keep up the spirit here. You see, this afternoon I had to call my Pastor to ask for Prayers. It had nothing to do with me. My requests are never too complicated. It was about Katya, Eduardo's daughter. Katya is one of the most brilliant, funny, well centered and goal oriented kids I've ever met. In the last couple of days she came across something that was not in the program, not for her or for any of us.

It turns out that she has a pretty aggressive lymphoma. What started with a severe cough some 48 hours ago has degenerated in an unexpected diagnosis and downward prognosis. There is however, no chance for shock. I shed my tears from the moment I hung up the phone with Lysania, until I dialed the Pastor's number. That's when he told me "Sometimes God asks for a chance to bring forth a Miracle." That really hit the spot, you know it's all I've been thinking about. I've never needed to cry, let alone beg to move my father to do something for me. Guess what I don't need to cry or to beg of God either. If my dad, who is but a mere creation in God's semblance is willing to give his life for his children, the what God wouldn't do?

What I want though, is to do something for Him as I usually do for my dad when I know I'm gonna get my way. I make a point of saying Thank You, I know you don't have to do it, but you do it 'cause you love me.

So, if you are reading this, join me in reminding Dad that He has a chance to bring forth a Miracle and Praise Him because He deserves it. I will be forever grateful.

"We are brought down to the dust;our bodies cling to the ground.
Rise up and help us; redeem us because of your unfailing love." - Psalm 44: 25-26

Watchmen in less than 10,000 words, I swear :p

2009-03-08T15:02:00.005-07:00

The following contains spoilers from the book, which translates in spoilers from the movie, because damn, it is almost frame by frame faithful....

First of all, thanks to the divine Ms. Michelle for venturing into geekland with me. She kept her dignity, her composure, her critical eye opened until the Comedian jumped out of Archie into the crowd and she said something in the lines of Mother@#*%@$... and became an instant fangirl. Girly girls that we are.

Seriously, it was good to tag along with Michelle. She didn’t have an idea of what was in store and I needed the fresh perspective of someone not familiar with the source. Me? I’ve got too much baggage.

I’ve read the Graphic novel quite a few times, dissected it at least twice for an essay and a blue book exam. It lived with me on my days working at the Warehouse, as Dr. Manhattan’s other worldly glow was my only companion in that Troll Cave. I love these characters and of course, they found a place where ever I might wonder.

WATCHMEN traveled with me to New York and never saw the light of day while I lived and worked there. After all, I worked at a Library and was never short of books. However, it is 2001 and as America and the world clung to one and other trying to find an explanation to what happened on September 11- in the midst if ash and chaos- as people around me said it was unreal, I thought it happened once, sorta. As time progressed and humanity showed both it’s best and it’s worst, there were an unsurmountable amount of conspiracy theories... Wackos here and there called for an inside job... As they spoke and both Right and Left carried it all into action, as it all degenerated in sophisticated violence and fear, I found myself wondering about Adrian Veidt’s “dream” and it’s very real waking moment. You know when he asks Dr. Manhattan whether or not things will change and Doc, pragmatist being that he is answers they never really do.

I guess what I am trying to say is that I’m closest to a WATCHMEN purist that I care to be. I usually hate purists, since they suck the life off adaptations, but in this case we are talking about a turning point in Literature. The text is sacred by it’s own merit and because without Moore, there wouldn’t be Gaiman. When I heard about a movie, it was both excitement and dread. The consecutive promo shots and trailers were either hit or miss (I wanted rounder belly in Nite Owl, found Silk Spectre sans the silky tunic too ludicrous and definitely wanted Dr. Manhattan to sound like God on the Sinai) However, the final trailer won me over. There was something about the choice of music and visual, seeing the Comedian smile with the joy of a nihilist in a Vietnam jungle, Dr. Manhattan willing himself from the void and Rorschach’s voice tinged with madness that calmed my agitation.

Still I had to see it, and I have. Since I am trying to put this into perspective without reaching the 10,000 word mark, I’ll say the best way to tackle it is as a fan of the original media. Yes, you have all heard about the wonderful special effects and you have invested quite a great amount of time in arguments either loving or hating Zack Snyder’s use of slow mo, so I will not even touch that.

After all, at the heart of a story, no matter how much they razzle and dazzle, both the true fan and the new comer will rely on characters as their starting point. The way I see WATCHMEN as a narrative is the same way I looked forward to grasp it as a movie, dichotomy between certain characters and perfect symmetry through the whole cast.

The main pair are the two guys that are most out there: Rorschach and Dr. Manhattan.
It’s hard to get across pixels, but Billy Crudup did it. He plays Dr. Manhattan as an entity that deliberately removes every human element about himself, finding the experience quite liberating. His voice is not the rolling thunder that I imagined, but soft and paced, coldly detached. It’s beautiful and scary to process.

When it comes to gritty realism, however, Jackie Earl Haley takes it and runs away with it. While Crudup’s Manhattan observes events in a non linear form, with the advantage of a god like approach, Haley’s Rorschach is in deep shit most of the time, witnessing things that will certainly disturb our precious suburban sleep, should we encounter them. He has the audience at bay. I mean honestly, I don’t think there will be single person that could identify with his Rorschach, in order to do so, we would need to cease and desist several aspects of what defines us rational beings. Even for a marvelous piece of fiction, that is too high a price to pay. At given moments though, he will reach out and let you understand. I must confess that in one of his interviews with the Psychiatrist, my eyes watered and my nose sorta flared up a little bit. I frigging choked. I walked out of the theater saying man, the academy did it once, could they do it back to back? I mean nominate someone playing a comic book character? That is how good he is, how convincing. There is not enough Rorschach. The character I read in the book as a strict psychiatric case, projected in the movie as the guy who had to carry the burden of dealing with humanity first hand.

The second pair is Silk Spectre and Night Owl II. Did I get what I expected out of Patrick Wilson and Malin Ackerman?
This is the couple that will ground the film to reality for many in the audience, specially for the uninitiated. Alternate universes, government sanctioned super heroes, the lifetime Commander in Chief Status of honest Dick???, it is easy to swallow once you rest your bewildered eyes on the resident nerd and the delicate, lonesome, beautiful woman. I mean they are just like you and me. Nah- not really- God help we never find ourselves in their situation.

The pathos of this characters is that unlike every working stiff around them, they had a taste of glory and had to live with the fact that is no longer meant to be. Theirs is the delivery of emotional content, as they try to make sense of the world while desperately trying to connect to one and other. Theirs is the dilemma between doing what is right versus acting within the dictate of what is permissible. Dan fits Wilson like a glove. I mean, the quiet intellect, the frustration, that fear of doing what is right. Ackerman came across a little stiff, like the character is a tad too big for her. Nevertheless, she is the one with less dialogue and that kinda compensates the flaw. Maybe it is just a reader’s prejudice, as I saw Silk Specter as arm. candy until that little Deus ex Machina revelation that turned her into the reason why Manhattan decides to give humanity a chance. In the movie, as in the book, that is her most convincing scene.

Finally, solid strength vs. the cerebral being : Ozymandias and the Comedian.
Edward Blake’s death is the force that sets this story into motion. Although we get but glimpses of his personality through flashbacks, Jeffrey Dean Morgan gives him the intricate character status he deserves. Both physically and verbally abusive, cynical beyond repair, and all together aggressively self assured, Morgan’s Comedian is the means to the ultimate end. In this fictional time not to be confused (ahem) with prior or recent Republican Reigns, he stands for all that America was/ is? strongly disliked for: expansionism at gun point, hostile internal politics and even scarier plots abroad. Quite the animal, however, he does carry a certain intuition about the workings of the world that makes him as honest as he is raw. His most brilliant scene is one that show cases both the brutality and quiet understanding the Comedian is capable of... If you had read the book, you know what transpires with the Vietnamese girl and how the Comedian snaps out of a trip of extreme cruelty to recognize that Manhattan is starting to disconnect from humanity and grimly sees the consequences of it all. I swear this is the very last time I refer to Jeffrey Dean Morgan as Bardem and Downey’s love child. He just earned my respect.

Matthew Goode as Ozymandias plays his part straight out of the field manual for Comic Book Villains, or at least he does it on the third act, which was the weakest in his execution of an otherwise worthy interpretation.
I liked him better when he plays the business man/ dreamer who kinda likes to channels Bowie once in a while. In the world of WATCHMEN politics, idealists are far more dangerous than the hardcore realists that bleed or better yet, make others die in behalf of their agenda.
Unlike The Comedian who saw his role as that of protecting the certain elements (ermmm.... the better half?) from others not as “Red white and Blue”as himself, Veidt would rather eliminate the threat completely, making all pay. What if it meant using key points of the planets inhabited surface as his tabula rasa? His is the end, that justifies all means.

However when they are face to face in Antarctica and he wears the mask... that is, as I said, the weakest point. I read Veidt in the book as the man who paves the road to hell with good intentions. Goode chose to play him megalomaniacal. His “dislike” for violence is in reality, a thinly disguised contempt for humanity, as seen through the eyes of one who counts himself as superior. He is more tyrant than “paternal” in his perceived role towards the world. It didn’t help that I didn’t see a bit of remorse, a shadow of doubt as the book illustrates. Michelle said it was there, but I wanted that “Tales of the Black Freighter” feeling, the realization that you just traveled on the corpses of your friends to your ultimate destruction. ( I know, it’s another 40 minutes to be included in the extended version and then I will be happy). That’s the only thing that bothered me, he never asked THE QUESTION, I couldn’t care for the squid.

I guess most importantly, did I get my symmetry? Was there an anchor to hold this magnificent piece together? Let’s forget about the visuals wether it be CGI, digitalized magic or plain good old make up. Cinematography is superb, sometimes conjuring impossible landscapes right out of Dali’s canvas. I’m here for the story. And it is amazing, how they drove the nail right through the heart of Moore’s impressive drama. You know how they say that Stan Lee cut through the bullshit and wrote the golden rule of Super Heroes in a simple phrase?- “With great power comes great responsibility”. Well Moore took in into the next line... with great responsibility comes the realization that at a given time we are only human.

Whoever commits the mistake of believing this is a super hero movie must take in account the common thread that flows through each character. The realization that they are helpless. Empowered, yes, nevertheless just flesh and blood and the weight of the world is a heavy burden. Even for Dr. Manhattan God-like in his power, that need to interfere in human affairs leads (in Snyder Squid less vision) to an unexpected outcome. This movie is the mirror of that perfect deconstructive tale I read once almost ten years ago. It will probably not be a box office success. It might not even bring about the praise recently held by The Dark Knight, because at heart is a tale of despair, meaning less, purposeless and beautiful enough for those who dare look into the abyss and put up with it looking back into them.

The quote:
Rorschach [to prisoners]
"I'm not locked in here with you! You're locked in here with ME! "

Poshland, USA

2009-02-23T08:42:00.004-08:00

I've been a security guard for two weeks now and I guess it has given me enough savvy to record impressions. As I said before my profession dujour comes from hard times asking for drastic measures. However been blessed beyond my merits, I've found myself enjoying the company of a great working staff who are willing to embrace a notoriously dazed and confused rookie and whip her into shape.

The choice of location for my first assignment would make me a firm believer in the goddess Fortuna if Jesus wasn't my homeboy already. Although I am restricted to mention this community by name- paranoia, please, set in- I must say other than the absurd that comes from the requirements of the rich and anonymous, it is all pretty normal.

Mornings are usually spent escorting golfers to the Club House, making sure they arrive well before their assigned Tee Time. The earlier they get there, the more they will spend and at $5.00 the soda serving, I guess some people are not as shaken by the derailed economics as other.

Afternoon is the College round with the local Universities completing the Physical fitness courses in either the Tennis or Golf Course. Most of our clients belong to the local Catholic and are either completing a Bachelors in Art or a master in Theology. Since they are not quite infected with the need to push security personnel in the "evil that we need"category, they usually stop, smile and chat away the pressures of what they believe is the real world.

Graveyard shift is undoubtedly my favorite, in which the only thing to care about are the dizzy antics of late night revelers and raccoons the size of the Beast of Bray Road.

Procrastinating? Hell no. No matter how idyllic this seems, I'm looking at my syllabus right now as I'm ready to tackle the whole Medical Management business. If Barry O' delivers on his promise of Universal Health Care, in 8 months or so I'm outta here and back with a vengeance.

In the mean time I've decided to make Tequila with this whole storm of lemons that rains over me :p

2009 Oscar Opening~Hugh Jackman

2009-02-23T08:32:00.001-08:00

I guess the title of the youtube link says it all... if you missed it, it's eight minutes worth watching :p

The Girly girl film of the month presents... Inglorious Basterds

2009-02-14T08:44:00.001-08:00

First of all, Happy Valentine's Day.

And yes, this is one of the reasons I am still single. I will not get involved with anyone until I find the guy that is willing to understand that once in a while a girl will want to see a period film about nerdy Jewish boys turned fully automated killing machines under the orders of an obviously crazy commander as envisioned by Quentin Tarantino... hmmm gorgeous.

A day with the Queen of Tweens and some cinematic matters

2009-02-06T20:43:00.001-08:00

Kendra:
She works a lot, worries too much and just for being my sister's eldest child, she deserves a holiday.

As it happens this day off comes at least once a semester and it's generally known as Titi's Day - in honor of she who pays the tab :p

Nah, seriously, it is Titi's Day because it is mine as much as it is hers. It is the day I look forward to, sharing X amount of hours, unbound of parental restrains with the heir to all my lunacy.

Ken is going through that rough and complicated stretch of life in which you are abandoning childhood and yet you still believe in a whole bunch of stuff many adults will find ridiculous.

I smiled and nodded when she told me that her plans are now shifting ( I miss the simple times in which she wanted to be a Police Officer). As it turns out my almost 12 year old niece plans to study Graphic Design and Animation, live for a couple of years in Canada and the move to Japan and become a full time Ninjitsu Trainer. To what will be the general relief of her mother, she added she plans to eventually get married- in her late 20's-to a Canadian Skateboarder who of course will be both fearful of God and faithful to Martial Arts Discipline.

It is not my job to roll eyes or build emotional fences. God knows there's enough people in my clan who'd do that unaware and with the best intentions. The funny thing is that when I tell her it can be done, I really mean it. There is something about her eyes, big brown and sparkly that I hope she'd never loose.

The theme dujour was Neil Gaiman, properly discussed over California Rolls, as Ken tried to convince me that it is time for her to move into my comic book collection, having read Coraline, Stardust and Dream Hunters. I told her I'd think about it.

As I mentioned before, Kendra worries too much as the next subject proves... I never thought I would end my Strawberry Lemonade over the upcoming doom scenario of 2012. I promised on my honor and all my commulative knowledge of Thelogy that the world will not end, and reminded her kindly that we were running late if she wanted to go to the arcade before the movie.

It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of throwing away quarters for no other purpose than to be able to spell my name out in the top ten player's list. I did a victorious round of Time Crisis, a not so excellent Fast and Furious course and quite a humilliating episode of Dance Dance Revolution after which I not so gracefully threw myself into the iron bench of oblivion - the arcade's waiting room-while Kendra kept jumping and shuffling her feet like there's no tomorrow.

Finally we got to CORALINE. I made the point of seeing it in 3D as it should be. What can I say? This is set to be the most succesfull Gaiman adaptation so far. Stop motion animation was the wisest course of action and a live action flick would have scared the parents shitless.

I found it funny that grown ups where a little disgruntled with the film as I could hear distinctive YUCKS and AWWW NO SHE DIDN'T and a couple of IS THIS FOR KIDS? coming from the responsible parties. Children, at least the ones over 7 years old seemed to be in heaven.

Kids saw it for what it seemed to be, an adventure, a journey to self discovery. I guess adults saw the more horrific aspects to it. You know, about how strange elements can make your children feel at home when you are not there, doing what it is that you need to do besides bringing home the bacon... I dunno, to me CORALINE is a hard book to classify, and I guess is the same with the movie. It is the type of book that I wish I could have read as a child, so I could see it through Coraline's eyes. Reading it as an adult, even if I indulge in the fantastic element, there is always a part of me that finds Coraline parents a little repulsive. I cannot understand how some people just dont enjoy their kids, how easy it is for them to ignore and dishearten and plain loose them. As a parent, Neil Gaiman coudn't have given a better advise than that written in those pages...that is is up to both children in their mind's eye and parents in real life to have the wisdom to discern good and evil and make the right choices at the right price.

As far as the animation goes, the scene that will be worth your admission is no doubt the "Other Garden", as it blooms under moonlight. And of course, the Mouse Circus.

The purists will argue about the introduction of an unecessary character -Wybie- but as I explained to Kendra, some one just has to cover the narrative, fill in the gaps that the author's omniscience provides for the book.

After all is said, done and jumping off the screen, CORALINE is an instant classic, worthy of the title that inspired it.

We got home, tired, broke and happy and the big hug and kiss that I got out of it was worth nursing a sore DDR ankle. As I walked Kendra home Ms. Chinkis came out to greet us with a HIIIIIIIIIIIIII TENDA, HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII TITI and all of a sudden I saw myself some three years in the future dragging this one about on a Pink Ribbons and Unicorns Titi Day and a chill ran down my spine.... it might have been the weather.

the quote
"I see a strange hand in your future... I also see a giraffe. Coraline you are in great danger."- that's wacky enough

the video comes courtesy of you tube and it's called THE HUMBLE BUTTON

To Observe and Report

2009-01-29T18:16:00.006-08:00

Ah life! It will take you places. As I type, I'm coming to terms with the words that soon will be here for cyber eternity: As of today I am a Security Guard.

And what, you may ask yourself is a woman who graduated from one of the most prestigious Universities in Puerto Rico with -of all things- a B.A. in Literature, doing working this type of trade?

Simple, when things get tough, the tough will fall under Florida Statute 493.

There are lots of reasons, the most obvious my good for nothing B.A. does not qualify me to be a teacher and honestly, I've never been the greatest of communicators. It has always been my cross to bear that subjects that I love with a passion are solely mine to explore and contend with. Last time I tried to teach, my contract was sorta not renewed on the basis that I told off most of my conceited Junior High School students and refused to bestow Literature Medal on the non worthy. That is me, can't help it.

The choice was not difficult. It is guaranteed good money (Florida pays decent salaries for Security) the benefits are superior, which is good for any single person living with an autoimmune disease. Besides it will give me plenty of time to catch up with the Medical Management Training I've postponed for way too long.

The way I see it, there is always a Romantic side to it all. The frustrated poet in me cannot help but paint a picture of terrible times in which the weakest of peoples will lack the moral stamina to uphold the law. It will be my job to make sure they don't cross the line using my really neat citizen power of arrest in the event of a Felony.

There is not a stint of irony in my words I swear. I will raise to the occasion and comply with my duties as to excel, not only buying time, but making a mark. If the Fates decided that I will be a Security Officer, even if for a brief amount of time, I'll be the best damn one there is.

The quote:
"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." -John Lennon

The countdown is over

2009-01-20T15:23:00.005-08:00

I am one of thousands- nah- millions making observations on this day. Still I am compelled to write my own little footnote in one of the most poignant events in recent US history.

There are few moments in time in which we can feel it beckoning- a sense of destiny. History brought us all here today and it was embraced, celebrated and witnessed through the world as an event that could only take place in our soil. I believed it before Barack Obama and I will die believing this country excels among nations- that is our heritage and the standard that we must carry. I just hope that the people who gathered in Washington DC today, as well as those watching will wake up to the need of restoring America.

To the eyes of many, we are not the best or most loved of countries, and it has nothing to do with our political affiliations. It will take more than a transition of power to gain back what we have lost. No matter what people might think, it didn't start with George Bush, nor will it magically end with Barack Obama. Tomorrow is the first day of many ahead. It is tomorrow when we must start acting out on all the emotions we displayed today. Tomorrow, with a combination of passion and level headed attitude, we all should do our best to see this man succeed.

I am still a Republican and unashamedly still believe that George Bush was a faithful servant, who met and rose up to a challenge the best way he knew how. However, first and foremost I am an American and I cannot help believing in the promise and the premise of this land.

Congratulations to the new Commander in Chief, a tip of the hat to one of those instances that make people smile and say "only in America."

The quote:

"In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted - for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things - some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom"- Barack Obama

The State of my Union

2009-01-14T13:20:00.002-08:00

Current level of stress: Intermediate

Job Status: Less

Hope level: Increasing :p

It's been a while since I posted and since I've made one of my New Years resolutions not to become a hermit, I've decided to type away.

So far 2009 has treated me kindly as I finally decided what to do with my life at a professional level. Kill me dead, I've shuffled with so many options I should have at least two PhD's, if I followed through. That is me though: the Queen of Procrastination, the Great Duchess of never putting my knowledge to good use and the Town Idiot of Salary Scales, it serves me right.

The poison of choice will be Health Care Management. In the meantime, I will entertain myself with some menial odd job, interesting enough to give me some insight of self.

On the other hand, I have been stuck to a pile of books, literally, as Ms. Lightshadow generously gave me the best Three King Day present ever: Charlaine Harris' SOOKIE STACKHOUSE CHRONICLES, the original source for HBO's TRUE BLOOD. I must confess I have not seen a single episode of TRUE BLOOD ( I tend to discover these HBO Gems on unexpected Thursday afternoons waaaaaaaaaaay after they have been enjoyed by the rest of the world)-if the series is anything like the book, I'm missing on something grand. I've never had this fun with dialogue in years, although something tells me I must brace for some kind of terrible out come.

In the meantime, I'll keep reading, getting engrossed in it all and absentmindedly burning things that should have looked golden brown instead of charred black and smoky... too long a story but you should catch my drift.

Let the Right One in- no spoilers

2009-01-03T07:15:00.008-08:00

Mini rant Disclosure. I just came upon details concerning a remake of this movie intended for American audiences. It will be helmed by Matt Reeves of Cloverfield fame.

I am tired, completely fed up with this need to spoon feed the American people with custom made stories. One of the lamest excuses to "Americanize" this film is that the film is "too Swedish" is scope (duh). Go ahead, worry the American public will never get over the culture shock of people eating "smorgas" instead of burgers and playing "soccer" instead of football. In the mean time throw aside one of the most endearing- yes that is the word, tales about human nature concocted in this decade and turn it into horror spam for the masses. Please, pleeeease, people in Hollywood, allow us for once to discover, to marvel and enjoy a movie that surpasses the expectations of it's genre to convey a rare gift: a character study in loneliness, gut wrenching fear and the lifting power of love. What the hell is so inherently Swedish about that?

I am also tired that in their effort to sell an idea, studios and ignorant people in general conspire to make us believe that just because some stories have elements in common, they are exactly the same. You know where I'm going with this people. I will personally make a kebab of the next person that dismisses this movie as the "Norwegian Twilight." Off my chest, now to my review...

Do not make yourself believe otherwise, just because I used the word endearing in the beginning, it doesn't mean this is not a genre movie. It is as conventional and shocking as vampire movies are meant to be. There is gore, violence and buckets of blood. These are vampires from Eastern European Tradition. Undead with aversion to sunlight, relics, a knack for solving puzzles, even if it stops them in their tracks and a relentless need to sustain themselves on human blood at any cost. In fact, the title Let the Right One In plays with the notion of vampire folklore that prohibits the undead to enter places uninvited. However, it is the intelligent use of all these plot devices that makes this movie worthwhile.

Long before the EMO revolution, vampires were perceived as raw manifestations of the ID, insatiable in more ways than one. Selfish creatures spawned in the bowels of hell who lived for the kill. These monsters were a craze in the eighties, at the peak of the " greed is good" sentiment. Intelligent film makers saw beyond the obvious choice of declining European aristocrats and used the image of the vampire to embody a metaphor for the deepest, darkest, guiltiest pleasures a society on the verge of hedonism had to offer- The Hunger, anyone?

Just like metal gave way to boys in flannel shirts singing about life as it is, vampire lost their punch in the nineties, they became, if anything, beautiful, alluring creatures at odds with their immortality, and filmmakers portrayed them as such. As of late, it's even worse, they have been sugarcoated.

Let the Right One In, however, rescued vampires from the trappings of sentimentality, bringing them out into the open as the dark mirror they are meant to be. It is a genre story that dares, once again brush against the human psyche. Once again, horror is not there solely for shock value. There are things to learn about ourselves, if we wish to dare to.

It is a story aligned with the Universe of Guillermo del Toro, in fact, it was not difficult to think about The Devil's Backbone. Oskar, the protagonist keeps the story grounded onto a familiar and painful reality: the trials of growing up as an outcast. Eli, even as a preternatural being, superior to Oskar in wisdom and strenght is haunted by her youth and apparent frailty, condemmed to never reach physical adulthood. It is the tragic story of a boy who cannot wait to grow up and a girl who, a long time ago was forced to come to terms with the idea that she never will. In this case, the vampire is devoid of a soul, yet still human enough to yearn for contact and the human being is willing to do anything, even leave reason behind in order to achieve the same.

The cinematography is not complicated, nevertheless it is effective, the barren, never ending white wasteland the characters move about is but a shadow of their emotional isolation. Most sensitive people might find it shocking that the main characters were so young to begin with. Once again, in the hands of intelligent filmmakers the urgency of blood and the innocence of love is beautifully woven. Children, after all are willing to believe, undergo and accept circumstances that would be just bizarre to grown ups, Oskar's is a world in which wonder and terror can coexist naturally.

All in all it is an intelligent, well thought film that is both unapologetic of it's use of genre as it is uplifting... yes, this is a feel good vampire movie, even if you know that in time, everything that can go wrong, will be, for the moment, in the brief expanse of perhaps a human lifetime, love will conquer all.

The quote:

"Be me for a while, be me" - Eli

Anno Domini 2009

2008-12-31T17:02:00.005-08:00

May it be joyful and bountiful, may it find you in the company of those you love...

I have nothing better to do presents: Gabriel- Theology Vampirica

2008-12-21T12:22:00.008-08:00

General disclosure:

If you are a Puertorrican woman in your thirties, you know about the eternal struggle. Mostly all of the Island's pop fandom is forced to choose, or walk the path carefully. Allow me to explain:

Ricky Martin__________?_________Chayanne

I've mostly chosen ?, which means that between Ricky and Chayanne I'll always choose Brad Pitt. However, when there is no in between, I'll go for San Lorenzo.

The point is I guess, even if I find him easy on the yes, I am not a Chayanne Fan, so when they told me he was going to be making a mini series, I said good. When they told me the series subject was vampires I signed in with a trembling hand.

This will be a loooong one peoples...

I went into GABRIEL with low expectations, not because of their choice of cast (although Jose Luis Rodriguez sent a bad shiver down my spine), but because of my fear of a weak script. Other than Guillermo del Toro, I haven't stumbled upon a writer that could spin a horror flick in Spanish without turning it in to a ham and cheese sandwich. It is the peril of the Spanish language. Too old, too rich; and people tend to forget that vampires are malleable creatures, chameleons of sort whose business is adapt or die. I really feared to hear what these vamps had to say. I was bracing for the 18th century brain on the streets of South Beach. I was pleasantly surprised that the dialogue was neither excessively cliched, nor ridiculously casual ( I'm still struggling with TWILIGHT, I'm sorry, it was a traumatizing experience).

Still I couldn't believe how they managed to avoid all the trappings and pit falls of the genre while sticking to a classic story. I am not being negative about the production, but I did start with doubts, so my review is kind of a photographic exposure one... bring out the light outlined by the negative.

Lots of things could have gone wrong, for example, the supernatural within itself. Not only did we have vampires, but also witches, ghosts and psychics. However, the writer took all in consideration and triangulated the three women in a sort of maiden mother and crone formation that pushed the narrative forward. One character knows the past, the other deals with the present and the third woman looks into the future with the knowledge and strenght provided by her two confidants.

Another well balanced element is that of the original source of the vampire. In this case, this being a Latin American production, they gave the old European aristocrat it's well deserved twist as vampirisim is a curse born of a land tired of being bathed in the blood of the innocent victims of "La Conquista." It also fits perfectly with the idea of an battle that can span ages, the conquistador trying to eradicate a mongrel bloodline that thrives even as the world he once believed an empire slowly collapses and dies.

And then there is the point that separates this particular series from any other, a character exploration venue that Anne Rice learned to master with subtlety and hardly no other writer dares to tackle: the theological implications of eternal life in a mortal plane. I was hit unexpectedly by a tale of redemption that managed to give good it's place without turning out to be excessively preachy.

I've always had a problem with the portrayal of the forces of good in vampire fiction, specially when it comes to spiritual matters. Good is always represented by the hunter, or the priest, the problem with these characters is that somewhere along the way, they become failing archetypes. They either loose their way or their faith, and in turn, dig their own graves.

In GABRIEL, the power of good and evil are complementary in the scale of things. They manifest themselves no more in the realm of monsters and the supernatural, than they do in our own. Vampires are just thrown into the mix, they are no greater than the best of sinners or more mystic than the best of saints. They are creatures of choice and consequence. For the first time, since Anne Rice injected this piece of cannon into the vampire mythos, someone else has the stones to flesh it out. Vampires are body, spirit and soul, just like anyone under a Western Theological Dogma. The only difference resides in their souls being infected by an unwanted (well most of the time- it's not like everybody wakes up wanting to be a bloodsucker) demonic element that inflicts both upon body and psyche. Yet, this element, although powerful, is still ultimately bound to the self and that double edge sword of a gift that is Freedom of Choice.

The theme that holds this series together is not the quest for a long lost and unretreavable humanity- subject that plagues most of the "romantic" vampire subplots- but the coming of terms with a monstrous existance, via spiritual reconciliation. It's after all a story about chances, you know those that I'm a sucker for.

All and all the character development was excellent, the story, although traditional in a sense was well developed and the resolution.... well, I am not spoiling but as in all vampire stories witha tinge of romance- it is satisfactory.

The Quote: "El destino es la excusa de los debiles"/ "Fate is an excuse for the weak" -Padre Miguel

Billy

2008-12-16T18:08:00.008-08:00

I have written way too many sad entries on this blog. I refuse to write another.

William Velez died today. He was a wonderful human being, an excellent teacher and the best Theologian I have met. He was once pastor and always friend. Quite the Renaissance man, he was also a gifted musician, with an inclination towards Tropical Rhythms and Jazz. His sense of humor was unparalleled and his interpretation of the Gospel raised more than an eyebrow once in a while.

He taught me that one must be ever fearful, never afraid of God and although it is fun to play the cynic once in a while, it is refreshing to believe that there is a bit of good in everything.

He embraced life freely, lived it whole heartedly, confronting those who believed Christianity must be worn with a frown. His idea of stewardship was that it is our privilege as sons and daughters of God to enjoy what this place has to offer, be it art, literature, travel, good food, friends and the occasional cocktail. Our only obligation lies on paying it forward, grateful of the talents we are granted.

There were few things that shocked him and his doors were open to all: crazy mofos, starving artists, goths, gays, straights with complicated lives, people who still lived in the 70's, Austin Power Fans, even stern Pentecostals who were willing to give it a try, 30 days, free of charge :p. After all, no matter where we come from or what we do to entertain ourselves between cradle and grave, at a given point we have all been "heavy laden and full of labor" and it is up to God to give us peace, break us and make us new and better and improve our capacity to love without question.

It was amazing to cross paths with you on this journey, it'll rock to see you again when we reach our final destination.

The quote:

As I said I will remember this man with the respect he deserves and avoid tears, there is absolutely no Bible verse I can quote that he couldn't dissect better than me so I'll reach for one of his comments in between sermons. Billy used to say he was waiting for the day to get hold of the "promised transformed body, 'cause then I mold myself like a GQ Model." Enjoy the ripped abs, bro :p

Can I get a Hell, followed by a NO!!!!!!!!

2008-12-15T19:05:00.002-08:00

The following is a reprint from Variety Magazine, but before you get to it, excuse my rant... I'll be screaming for a while, really screaming, so pardon the caps

WWWWHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY WOULD ANYONE IN THIS FORSAKEN PLANET BELIEVE THERE IS AN URGENT NEED TO REMAKE THE CROW?

THEY TRIED TO CONTINUE THE FRANCHISE AND IT FAILED MISERABLY. BUT NOOOOOOO, ONE BLUNDER IS NOT ENOUGH.

I CAN SEE THE PITCH FOR THIS ONE...

WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF FRESH IDEAS GUYS... WHAT IS NEXT ON THE AGENDA?

DUNNO BOSS, WHATTABOUT TOSSING ACTION AND SUPERNATURAL INTO THE BLENDER. YOU KNOW SOMETHING ANGSTY THESE EMO KIDS CAN RELATE TO... WHAT ABOUT REFRYING THE CROW? THE CROW, YOU MEAN THE ONE WITH BRANDON LEE? MAYBE, I DON'T KNOW IT'S TOO VIOLENT AND TOO DARK. DON'T WORRY WE'LL WATER IT DOWN, THROW IN A LITTLE MORE CHEESE, BECAUSE YOU KNOW THAT ED CULLEN THING WORKED WONDERS FOR THE "NEO GOTHS" AND THEN WE'LL SHOOT IT DOCUMENTARY STYLE... ALA CLOVERFIELD!!!!! IT WILL FRIGGING ROCK. DON'T YOU MEAN FUCKING ROCK? HECK NO, THIS WILL BE PG-13, THIS WAY WE CAN TIE IT IN WITH BURGER KING.

SHOOT ME DEAD. I MEAN THERE ARE FEW THINGS IN MY GEEK UNIVERSE THAT I HOLD SACRED, AND THIS IS ONE OF THEM. JAMES O'BARR CREATED THE PERFECT GOTHIC TALE, A LOVE POEM WRITTEN IN VIOLENT STANZAS. ALEX PROYAS' VISION TRANSLATED IT BEAUTIFULLY TO THE SCREEN AND BRANDON LEE AND MICHAEL WINCOTT JUST DELIVERED. IT IS A STORY IN THREE ARCS THAT ENDS WITH A PICTURE OF DEATH AS THE FINAL RECONCILIATION. IT WAS NOT MEANT TO HAVE A SECOND INSTALLMENT, LET ALONE A REINTERPRETATION.

THE QUOTE:

"Quick impression for you: Caw! Caw! Bang! Fuck, I'm dead! "- HOPE THE SAME THING HAPPENS TO THIS IDEA

I'LL GO CRY NOW...

Norrington flies with 'Crow' franchise
Filmmaker to write, direct reinvention of series
By MICHAEL FLEMING

“The Crow” will fly again.
Stephen Norrington has signed on to write and direct a reinvention of “The Crow,” based on the comic created by James O’Barr.
Ryan Kavanaugh’s Relativity Media is negotiating with producer Ed Pressman to acquire the film franchise and finance the film.
Pressman produced the 1994 Alex Proyas-directed screen transfer, in which rock musician Eric Draven is murdered trying to rescue his girlfriend from thugs, and returns from the dead one year later to exact vengeance. Though the original became a gothic-style hit that grossed nearly $100 million worldwide, it is primarily remembered for a tragic accident in which star Brandon Lee was killed during filming.
For Norrington, “The Crow” deal marks the end of a long screen sabbatical. After making his breakthrough with the Marvel Comics hero “Blade,” Norrington took on a big-budget comic transfer with “The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.” Neither the director nor his star, Sean Connery, has made a film since.
Norrington said he felt demoralized by that experience, and the accomplished sculptor spent the next five years writing and working on his art. He made a deal to direct “Clash of the Titans” for Warner Bros., but left the project, he said, because he was “unable to excite Warner Bros. with my take, or influence the screenplay to any comfortable extent.” That pic goes into production early next year with Louis Leterrier at the helm.
Norrington resolved to focus on independent projects, and sparked to an approach on “The Crow” from Relativity production chief Tucker Tooley and Pressman. Norrington had a relationship with Pressman when they came close to making “Mutant Chronicles” several years ago. Both embraced Norrington’s vision of the antihero, which Norrington said will be different than the film Proyas made.
“Whereas Proyas’ original was gloriously gothic and stylized, the new movie will be realistic, hard-edged and mysterious, almost documentary-style,” Norrington told Daily Variety.
Norrington is repped by Endeavor.

Dixieland

2008-12-14T08:11:00.004-08:00

I live in Florida, located in the Southern United States. However, after years of being the recipient of the New and the depository of the Old, Florida is no longer The South. It is too cosmopolitan, too artificial, too inviting. This is neither good nor bad, and by no means I am getting into deep rooted political discussions about whether or not the South is right or wrong in all it's idiosyncrasies. I'm just saying that living in Florida does not prepare you to face what stretches to the West as far as Texas and to the North as far as Virginia. It's a whole different ball game.

Our trip started somewhere around 5:00 AM on Thursday and it went without interruption from Wesley Chapel, Florida to Hamilton City, Georgia. It was a nice place to stop for coffee, after all it gave us a sense that our trip really started. A huge Confederate Flag waiving without a bit of shame announced our arrival to Dixieland . The coffee hit the spot as the temperature was dropping accordingly (we were going through part of the cold front that brought some snow to New Orleans that same day). Outside, impervious to the cold, a woman smokes a cigarette and talks to herself as the rain starts falling softly.

Reaching Hawpond Rd., we got the sight of cotton fields stretching for miles. The earth smells different, rich in minerals with shades of orange and brown we hardly ever see at home, where the best of the soil manages to have a touch of sand.

With some 5 hours ahead the trip divides between stretching stops, casual conversations, snacking, our enforced no cell phone policy, which dad kept breaking ( Dear Dad, the point of vacationing is leaving your job behind!!!!!) and quiet contemplation of billboards. I've always thought that bill boards speak volumes about a place and our way from Georgia to North Carolina seems to be the tightest fit of the Bible Belt.

God is in every other billboard along the road. Literally, Billboards signed by the Almighty. Sometimes He is gentle, reminding us all of John 3:16, others, He's all fury, shouting from high in big, bold, black letters that our sins will be visited upon our children.

Six cups of coffee, three stretches, four call backs, ten trivial conversations and forty billboards later, we arrived to the Smoky Mountain Tourist Center. It was cold, but bearable as the mountain range seemed to stretch into forever with the help of the mist left behind by the previous storm.

Maggie Valley proved to be quite the place to unwind, Eduardo really hit it on the head with this one. The air is crisp, the sun hides around four thirty, leaving it all enveloped in purple and soft blue until the night literally falls upon you in a matter if seconds.

We stayed at Castlewood a cozy, beautiful lodge right by Ghost Town (no kidding!!!) What can I say, the combination of people and place is hard to find anywhere else. As I said before, it only takes a little venture into the unknown to find the heart of Southern Charm and Hospitality.

As day broke, we were cheated off the promised snowfall by a sudden rise in temperature, but the ground was covered in frost and the sky clear of clouds as we made our way up to the Mountain. Had fun, even if the snow was not freshly packed, we got some pictures with white background, bonded over the several uses people of Spanish descent could give the word "creek"and let the day lazily go by before heading home again.

The South Carolina Border proved to be a Tourist Trap of Grand Design... did our best to avoid it.

Spent the night in Savannah, vowed to return, when time allows it.

On our way back home, our stop dujour was St. Augustine. We have been there before, but it was sort of a thank you note for Gramps, who was in excellent behavior through the trip. He loves the city and it's Seafood and thus, he was handsomely rewarded.

Now I'm back home, with all the responsibilities of a cell phone carrying fiend and still looking for a job. Whenever things look grim, I'll think about Dixie and how people just seem not to struggle against the tide, and yet they arrive the same way.

The quote, not really:

This trip was sponsored by "Werewolves at Cozy Creek" and "I hate you guys", which actually means I love you more than words can say.

The road to Nowhere presents... Family Vacation 2008

2008-12-09T18:56:00.007-08:00

It happens at least once a year. Mr. Eduardo Zelaya, great soul and believer in the possibilities of the human spirit, graceful addition to our emotionally dyslexic clan via marriage to my little sissy, puts together a plan.

As it's known to all, the Road To... Interesting places is paved with good intentions and thus, in the Spirit of the Season, Eduardo has decided to carry us all to try and unwind, somewhere far, far away from Wesley Chapel. Don't get me wrong. I love my family to pieces, and I'm crazy about travel. It is the combination of both that's really worrisome.

The Santiago's are awesome for activities centered around a table, be it formal or informal dining, Monopoly, movie watching or general conversation, the brevity of the moment works some kind of magic that makes us feel better and closer to one and other. However, if you place us peas in a kettle for hours on end, it'll boil.

So far we've got

A grumpy Grandpa that has expressed his opinion in matters such as

Psycho Killers in the Woods in South Carolina
The excessive amount of sugary confections that come from Georgia, which he knows my father will consume in alphabetical order until there is no more
Vampire cultists who pretend to be junkies who pretend to be voodoo kings in New Orleans
The feeding habit of Catfish through all the Gulf Coast (don't get me started)

which will certainly guarantee at least half an hour rant about any projected destination other than Guanica, Puerto Rico.

Unfortunately Titi had to cancel us out due to illness. Her "briscas" playing antics and lively chatter will be missed.

Dad seems OK with it all, but the that's the way everything starts, until he gets all possessive about driving and such.

Mom... God bless her, she is a saint, He will have mercy on our souls just because she is there.

Lysania, pump up on the Prednisone, and get wild doing the Fast and Furious thing against the resident 84 year olds ( somewhere, somehow there is a geezer that will not be able to out walk you) and pleeeeeeease, be impressed by something!!!!

Eduardo, best of luck, since you are on the wheel in the Road to Nowhere.

Me? I'll make kick ass club sandwiches, catch up with some classics, take pics and make mental notes :p

29 hours and counting...

The quote:

"The family, that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor in our innermost hearts never quite wish to." -Dodie Smith

Terminator Salvation

2008-12-09T11:30:00.001-08:00

Hi, it's me with the Girly Girl Pick of the month. It was either this or AUSTRALIA, but I find the idea of Nicole Kidman sporting a rifle so... unlady like.
Anyway, I've always been a fan of the Terminator Saga, even if I must confess I saw RISE OF THE MACHINES only once and I rather keep it like that in order to avoid the destruction of any false cherished memory.
I'm looking forward to this one with the same amount of anticipation and dread. I've just noticed that the only hard core
Sci-Fi movie franchise that has successfully avoided the traps of "time travel" is about to take a plunge into the most feared of plot devices : the alternative future. It looks good, but still this is one of those make it or break it things. In the mean time Christian Bale!!!!! yyeeeeeeaaaaahhh

I had to copy it from Ms. Lightshadow

2008-11-30T18:25:00.007-08:00

Her blog is cooler than mine. She also knows how to do the trick that allows you to try the link right off the page, if you are reading me, you'll have to click it.

Anyhoo, went about her blog and found this link.... that will analyze your typing and tell give you new insights to add to your long list of psychological ailments.

http://www.typealyzer.com/index.php?lang=en

In summary:

I am an artist (woohooo ?)
Who worries a lot and people often try to take me for a sucker (I'm not fighting that one either)

The complaisant side of me says : "Good that I'm not doing artsy things right now because something tells me that I would go through the Starvation Road. May be that's it, darn it, there is an anemic writer in me waiting to come out!"

The compromised, Literature lover on the other hand, is scolding me for being a coward. Seriously, I have the utmost respect for people who are willing to what it takes to pursue their dream, maybe it's time for me to take that risk and stop taking it lightly.

The quote is what it really said (they left out the excessive drama aspect of it all)

"ISFP - The Artists
The gentle and compassionate type. They are especially attuned their inner values and what other people need. They are not friends of many words and tend to take the worries of the world on their shoulders. They tend to follow the path of least resistance and have to look out not to be taken advantage of.

They often prefer working quietly, behind the scene as a part of a team. They tend to value their friends and family above what they do for a living. "

TWILIGHT.... no words can describe

2008-11-30T18:11:00.001-08:00

So many people are putting down this movie that I find it excessive to give my two cents.

Let's put it this way, if you like VAMPIRES in your VAMPIRE movies, then this is not your cup of tea.

However, if you like pale kids with emotional problems and control issues who happen to have a knack for deer blood and Glitter, then indulge!!!!!

I would write something coherent about the message of misinterpreted traditional values and the perpetual damsel in distress= tragic heroine= female incapable of self reliance= good girl by all means, but I am too depressed.

Did I mention they sorta become glittery when they are exposed to sunlight... MY EYES, MY EYES!!!!!

Thanksgiving 2008

2008-11-26T17:54:00.003-08:00

The odds are definitely against it. I can mention at least 5 events on this past week alone that guarantee this is not the best year ever.

Nevertheless, I wouldn't be me and I'm bound to fail God and myself if I can't find something to be grateful for.

One year ago I was in Italy spending time and money because I could. Today I'm fixing a sweet potato casserole on a budget. The fact that Kendra woke up early to go shopping and take notes on my kick-ass rolled oats strudel topping and stayed to make it all with me is good enough to be thankful.

I had a loss in my family exactly a week ago. It has not been easy. Nevertheless, the chance to open up a box and look over old pictures surrounded by people we love and breaking out in laughter between quiet periods of reflection is enough to start healing.

I'm thankful for friends who are always there, even if I disconnect for longer periods that allowed by standard friendships. I'm grateful that they get me and once I call back, after 5 seconds of a lame excuse for my negligence, they are kind and gracious enough to keep it rolling.

I have a family worth looking towards heaven for, crazy as we might be. I'm grateful that we all get one and other- sharp edge puzzle that we are.

I'm grateful for faith itself, because it will see me through and for the fact that God has everlasting love and a great sense of humor and has never, ever failed, even if I do once in a while.

I guess I've covered it all, to all of you reading, have a wonderful Thanksgiving, surrounded by family and all kinds of good stuff comprising of complex, delicious and sweet carbohydrates. Atkins can wait, South Beach will always be there, those guys from the Weight will be Watching the day after tomorrow... give a chance to food and love and fun and life will take care of itself.

The quote:

"Some people complain because God put thorns on roses, while others praise Him for putting roses among thorns." Anonymous

I read your name on the paper today

2008-11-19T11:58:00.004-08:00

I read your name on the paper today, it was attached to a summary statistic: Male, 28 years old, murdered. It didn't quite process at first, after all, these things just don't happen everyday, not to us.

It was a strange feeling, being granted the ability to detach myself from it all as I read. I was a stranger, reading a piece on the paper, going over details of yet another violent case in an Island that seemed distant. However, it started pulling me in. The name and the stats were not only familiar- they were mine, ours. It all became an unwelcome feeling as I realized that hundreds of people grazed through the pages of the paper today, reading your name giving it no more than a passing thought. Your name, your 28 years, the circumstances of your death were wiped away for a second to hundreds of memories that are unique. For the love of all that's holy, I was there when you were born.

Male, 28 years, murdered. A little boy with a bright smile and beautiful blond hair runs through the garden and hands Lysania a small wild flower. An eight year old tags along with his dad, because the day is way too long and there are things to do, business to attend and then maybe later, a chance to catch up with the cousins at Mama Elisa's, and boy are you planning to have fun. A young man way too thin for his frame who against all odds manages to throw our way a smile that is sincere and warm waves goodbye before speeding away in his bike. We loved you, we couldn't help it.

Today I mourn your death and it's been all stages. I was mad for a while, really, really pissed as I struggled to contain my mother's tears and then inevitably, I gave way to some of my own.

I will celebrate what is worth celebrating because we are beyond if, what or why. I will celebrate the boy you were, and the man you might have been. If anything John, I'll do my best.

You'll always be remembered cousin.

Veteran's Weekend 2008

2008-11-08T06:07:00.003-08:00

In my lifetime, I’ve seen many. I was not aware of them as they came from Vietnam, since I was barely starting to scream and kick my way into this world, but as I grew up, I knew all about them. They were a weird bunch, some of them too quiet for comfort, others not quite. They hardly spoke about IT, and when they did- strange enough- they didn’t regret it. Don’t get me wrong, some of them were bitter, obsessed, angry with a country that did not get it. They might have frowned upon the circumstances, but none of them to whom I spoke to would have done differently. They fought their way through hell and madness for their buddies. Looking back on it, they made me redefine friendship.

As a little girl I over heard my grandparents talking about it. It was everywhere, from the Philippines to the heart of Europe. It was a war that was justified and uncontested in it’s righteousness. They served aboard ships and as foot soldiers and established the United States of America as a beacon among nations. They did it because it was in their hands- the hands of brave men who walked into harm’s way, not only for their country, but for all countries. Those men who took the step achieved their goal, destroying the enemy and shaping the world as we now know it. Besides being eternally grateful and looking back on it, they made me redefine courage.

I was 17 years old when my father told me it was his duty to leave. The Gulf was a short war, perhaps one of the shortest and just when we thought it was time to return, he stayed. He served for a whole year because no matter if people try to convince you otherwise, there is compassion and duty and honor and all the best is brought forward when the last shot is fired. My father served and then stayed with the Army Corps of Engineers, not only because it was required, but because it was the right thing to do. Sometimes the idea of winning hearts and minds is not a cynical political statement, is a exercise of humanity. That is what keeps you going, even if you miss the comfort and the warmth of home. Looking back on it, my dad made me redefine compromise.

On September 11, 2001, as I came out of the initial shock, the first word to escape my mouth was "mercy"... and in a moment of pure selfishness I thought "Thank you, thank you dear Lord, dad is not active anymore". However, I still saw them leave- friends, family, complete strangers. They signed their lives into Afghanistan and Iraq to fight a war as we have never seen. As I see them come back and hear their stories, it strikes me how similar they are to those before them. Those who return are blessed with their lives and afflicted by that they leave behind. However, they keep going back as we wait for a final safe return. In all honesty, they have it all against them. Most outlets savor every opportunity to point out the strategic failures, the collateral damage and the ill intents. And yet they keep going back, doing their thing, keeping us safe, earning the right to be a US Veteran, because they don’t do it for themselves, they don’t do it for 15 minutes of cable news fame. They do it for duty, for country, they do it for the guy standing beside them and they do it for us, so we don’t have to go through what they have to. Looking back on it this ongoing generation of veterans it made me redefine pride.

Thank you.

"As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them." ~John Fitzgerald Kennedy

PS- Courtesy of the Litte History Corner: I did not forget the "Forgotten War" (Korea) it is just that this is sorta like a chronological essay that relates my connection to family veterans and none of my guys ever went there. Nevertheless, if some one gives you a a tiny flower at a supermarket this weekend and tells you to remember, dust off your history books, they did their part, fighting the "commies" when they were really scary....

Historic Indeed...

2008-11-04T19:30:00.003-08:00

Congratulations are in order for Barack Obama.

In what has been a record turn out, Senator Obama has been elected the 44th President of the United States and the first African American to hold the Office. It all has the appeal of Sense of Destiny.

As you know I am part of the more than 20 million who voted against him on this election. It was my right, and I don't regret it. After all, I voted just like Martin Luther King told me to, not by color of skin, but by content of character. I swear I wanted to like him enough to vote for him. I must admit that I rode the Obama wagon for a while, after all I've crossed lines before (The world knows I love me some Bill Clinton). It took me a lot of discipline not to be swayed by the speeches and carried away by the rhetoric. Most of all it took a lot of to cast a ballot "against history." As part of a minority, I've longed for this "first" forever, but it was not enough.

As celebration unfolds as it is expected, I reexamine my position to see if there is something I could have done differently and find myself saying absolutely nothing.

This is not the lonely rant of a bitter American who clings to her gun and her Bible . It is a plea to the new man in charge, please, please, prove me wrong. Nothing would make me happier.

Mr. Obama, the majority of the United States of America, in their wisdom is putting in your hands the biggest economic debacle since the Great Depression. Don't feed me the idea that you will try to solve it by sheer will power and magic... Prove me wrong and make people accountable, because it is not only W.'s war expenses or the fat cats in Wall Street, it is also the people that were meant to look out for our interests, people that we empowered and trusted to look out for us. Don't just slap them in the wrist CUT THEM DOWN AND MAKE THEM PAY; even if some of them turn out to be from your own party. That will be a heck of a start. While at it, be upfront about the repercussions the 700 billion will have on your original plan for this Country, tell me the new measure, so we can hold our ground.

As far as MY issues go, don't worry I'm not that hard to please.

You may do as you see fit with the situation in Iraq, after all, you will be the President. But please, take care of the troops. You are about to be Commander in Chief of the same people you said went overseas to air-raid villages and kill civilians. As a person who is closely linked to the US Army, I found that statement deeply disturbing. In fact it was the one statement that guaranteed the total loss of my sympathy for you in this race. Call me out, make me wrong and give them their place. Supply for them while they are still in harm's way and bring them safely home. After all, unlike many of us who can still say hell no to you or your policies, these men and women are subject to you. They have freely sworn to bleed and die upon your command. Don't forget it, until the last one of them is safely back home.

Allow me to remind you that there are countries other than Venezuela and Cuba. In fact there is a whole bunch of countries collectively known as Latin America. Extend your hand in partnership, please don't forget Colombia- a lot of issues, including a possible economic and political debacle depends upon the Free Trade Pact you have carefully avoided discussing. As far as illegal immigration goes, leave out the drama. The idea of families separated breaks our heart, however handing out pretty driving licenses to illegal immigrants or chewing on the same recycled ideas will solve nothing. I know there are a lot of things on your agenda, however in honor of those Latinos who could vote and did right by you in states like Florida and New Mexico, bring the start of the comprehensive reform within the first 100 days of your administration. My bet is it won't even be brought to mind, I beg of you, make me wrong.

I love my knish with a lot of mustard, my corned beef sandwiches in rye bread and my prayers facing Jerusalem. Hell, I am a strange breed of wacky Puertorrican Zionist. Sue me. Please, reconsider your idea about Iran being a tiny country that poses no threat. Look, I am not going the the extreme that other people went on this campaign, questioning your commitment to Israel. I'm just saying that a threat as palpable as that of Ajmadenijad is not to be taken lightly. While you are at it, and since the stance of Israel in teh Middle East is so linked to America, take in consideration that whole business of no preconditions. I really hope you could prove me wrong, but the odds are against you. You know it well, you have said so yourself, Ajmadenijad is not the true leader of Iran, it is the Ayatollah Khamenei, the same man who a couple of weeks ago expressed deep hatred for America based not on political grounds, but in religious philosophy. To sit down with these bozos without preconditions is to open the door for a public humiliation of every principle the United States stands for, based on the silly premise of their concept God being better than ours.

I've had my say. Does this mean that through this next four years I'll turn into an ultraconservative, sore looser, solely Fox News watching, Rabid Bible Thumping, NRA carding Obama hatin' gal? Not at all. If something we have learned of this campaign, is that the things that define us as a country are bigger and better than the things that we pride as individuals. Country First is more than a slogan to me, I'm here to do my part. After all, hating the player is divisive and amounts to nothing. I'll do as I always do once the last vote is counted. I'll stand at the center - good moderate girl that I am- and scream only as needed.

Please, Mr. O., do right by us all proving me wrong. Win me over. I guess it won't be difficult. You have been granted all, having the House, the Senate and the Judges on your side of the court!!!!!

God bless you and Good night.

PS: Props and love to McCain, it was an honorable retreat, my friend :p

It's almost Halloween...

2008-10-30T12:50:00.001-07:00

I am kind of coming down with something- again- and I'm afraid I might not make it to the computer tommorrow, with all I have to do. So, in the eve of the eve, I'll leave this short Tim Burton's film, narrated by the one and only Vincent Price...happy haunts

You can vote however you like - Students of the Ron Clark Academy

2008-10-29T10:54:00.001-07:00

Sing it! I've always reserved the highest admiration for people who dedicate themselves to service and do it right. In this case, kudos to the Teachers at Ron Clark Academy who came up with this amazing idea. It is really cool to see kids involved with a hands on approach in the political process and most of all, HAVING FUN while they learn!!!
In the spirit of coming elections and in honor of those who debate the issues without running the risk of cardiac arrest... here's to ya, lyrics and all

Obama on the left
McCain on the right
We can talk politics all night
And you can vote however you like…

(McCain supporters)
McCain’s the best candidate
With Palin as his running mate
They’ll fight for gun rights, pro life,
The conservative right
Our future is bright
Better economy in site
And all the world will feel our military might

I want Obama
FORGET OBAMA,
Stick wit McCain you gone have some drama
MORE WAR IN IRAQ
Iran he will attack
CAN’T BRING OUR TROOPS BACK
We gotta vote Barack!

(Obama supporters)
But McCain and Bush are real close right
They vote alike and keep it tight
Obama’s new, he’s younger too
The Middle Class he will help you
He’ll bring a change, he’s got the brains
McCain and Bush are just the same
You are to blame, Iraq’s a shame
Four more years would be insane

Lower your Taxes - you know Obama Won’t
PROTECT THE LOWER CLASS - You know McCain won’t!
Have enough experience - you know that they don’t
STOP GLOBAL WARMING - you know that you won’t

I want Obama
FORGET OBAMA
Stick with McCain and you’re going to have some drama
We need it
HE’LL BRING IT
He’ll be it
YOU’LL SEE IT
We’ll do it
GET TO IT
Let’s move it
DO IT!

I’m talking big pipe lines, and low gas prices
Below $2.00 that would be nice

But to do it right we gotta start today
Finding renewable ways that are here to stay

Democratic left
Republican right
November 4th we decide
And you can vote however you like, I said
You can vote however you like, yeah

Alas! It is unclogged...the HELLSING SAGA CONTINUES

2008-10-25T20:36:00.001-07:00

This is the measure of my madness. For almost a month now I have been working on the never ending essay. At this point in time I don't know if I'll ever present it for consideration, since a bit of an economic downturn is leading me to put the idea of a Master's aside and go for a good old plain certification as a Medical Billing Specialist (choices, choices- money or fun- while there's debts to pay I'll be a happy little ho').

However, as this is therapy, I keep on writing as if it's serious business. Of course because I need no more stress in my life, I write myself into a corner... is Hellsing a reinterpretation, a continuation or a whole new approach to Bram Stoker's Dracula?

Continuation seems like the chosen path as the main character is in fact, eternal and seems to consistently fight against madness by trying to reconstruct a pattern that he is comfortable with- re-planning what he sought as a winning strategy once.

See, Alucard is kind of a hot-headed stubborn monster who doesn't like to loose. It took him a little over a hundred years to put it all in place, there's Lucy and Mina and Renfield, they just don't know it... and this is no Romantic vampire trying to redeem himself either. This is back to basics personification of the id monster unleashed, so that means that this time around everyone is in when he goes and cashes the IOU's.

The stage was perfect for my little theory and then, a complete block...DAMN IT!!!!
And here I've been until today, when all of a sudden it hit me. This is a graphic novel you twit, as much it is said in the panel as in the images...bless your heart Hirano, you bastard, keeping the character's integrity until the end even if it all "reads" other wise.

10-4 Boys and girls, I have to give shape to this, and finish it or burst.

No quote today, the video is from youtube, called Alucard's Story, not of my making, pretty cool though.

The Scarlet Letter

2008-10-24T19:37:00.005-07:00

How do I start this without restraining to use the words FUCK and YOU in one sentence? I wouldn't be me. I don't know... Perhaps I'll try to find a little joy in my heart and turn this into a thank you letter to Ms. Ashley Todd.

Dear Miss Todd:

Thank you for making all of our lives a little better with your creativity and ever flowing well of imagination. Meaning I hope someone puts you in a straight jacket, for your own sake and sends you right away for a psychiatric evaluation...

Did you really think your 2 1/2 minutes of fame would sway the election or gain anybody's sympathy? Really? Did you even sit down and think the shameful consequence of your actions?

We find ourselves trying to prove what we are made of, amidst an election that is under the world's scrutiny, in which the both the issues and the content of the character of those involved are constantly discussed. Unfortunately in some sectors of our society, it is all walking the thin line of racial tension. Knowingly, you made up a story about a black Obama supporter, tracking you down, beating you up and carving a B on your face as if you were a piece of cattle? It is more than a shame, but I'll keep on the positives so, thanks.

Thank you. Your resolve speaks volumes about your commitment to the Republican cause and the level of respect you hold for people who differ of your point of view. I guess you got what you wanted, a personal phone call from McCain and Palin giving you emotional support in what they believed was your hour of need. That is one to tell your children about!!!

As I said you dumb witted piece of humanity: there are issues to be discussed, legitimate concerns to be raised, a country to salvage from a financial deficit that can take us all to hell in a hand basket and this is the way you leave your mark- all pun intended in case you didn't get it!!!. In the name of all of us who think the political process is a serious subject, in the name of those of us who actively and proudly take part and are willing to engage in respectful debate, Bless your plump cheek and it's bright, bold B!

The quote... There is no quote. I haven't found a quote about idiocy fitting enough. However, I must give props to my boy Nathaniel Hawthorne and to Ms. Lightshadow's Swift Prod Corner for the inspiration for this entry's title.

IS that time again in Florida....

2008-10-20T19:57:00.003-07:00

Disclosure: I'm a Gen X voting Republican- shoot me- but before you do, pay attention to my Public Service Announcement...

It is 15 days to general election and advanced voting centers are open through the state of Florida as well as many other states through this nation.

To call this election a milestone in US history doesn't even begin to describe it. However- and it happens ALL the time- we all tend to get over excited about our hardcore affiliations, we get a kick out of turning "politico" and somehow it all ends with us forgetting to get to the polls. I would like to remind everyone who thinks voting is a right you might as well bypass- just look at certain countries around the world in which a vote is becoming more of a privilege, on it's way to be nullified. People, get going. Put your money where your mouth is.

Be it through absentee ballot, advanced voting or good old fashion Election Day, have your say. It is imperative. Hoist your colors high, drag your elephants and donkeys, put on your "Barack the Vote" or "Red State University" shirt and bring it.

"Always vote for principle, though you may vote alone, and you may cherish the sweetest reflection that your vote is never lost." John Quincy Adams

Crazy Train

2008-10-08T18:55:00.003-07:00

Lots of stress, everywhere. This time it was dad's turn. He had an episode yesterday- stress induced angina that placed him in the hospital overnight. Fortunately, it was not a heart attack. After Mom's scare, I guess one is enough. And we must all count on the fact that unlike my delicate flower of a mother, dad is actually not make of iron. Being a man, his nature tends to high maintenance clinging to all. It was all funny, after the scare was gone, he was so much like a child. Bless the "weaker" sex, that's all I'm saying. However, daddy, this was a warning to stay away from all things leading to cardiac arrest, and that means changing habits in your diet and getting mobile!!!! I know we all tend to be fat cats, but we all need to work on it. Geeeeeeeeez, if I sound like not making much sense, it's because I'm really, really spent. My plan for yesterday night was to watch McCain and Obama make a display of magic wand solutions for the economy and ended up being a trial at the ER.

God is good, that's all I'm saying and goodnight boys and girls.

Ahhh Children of the Night Class...

2008-09-01T17:47:00.002-07:00

I haven’t written a serious essay since my undergraduate thesis. Funny enough, the subject was, yes, you guessed it right: vampires. When the Hunter becomes Haunted: the fall of Lestat is my baby. Twenty pages of blood sweat and tears that guaranteed my graduating with honors and my winning a bet against a certain annoying, freckle ridden-red headed fellow student who almost died of disgust when I started out to write a semi dissertation on a series of books I could pick up at the local Walgreens.

Things didn’t follow the way of the scholar for me, and after trying out a couple of unsuccessful short stories, I decided to call it quits. However there is a part of me that became fascinated with the subject of my essay at an academic level that will never let me go. Sometimes I disguise it as fangirl appreciation. In sunny, happy days it is my quest for the best vampire movie ever made. In other occasions, I baffle mere mortals with obscure trivia that will guarantee winning every single question of Jeopardy in a row if the subject were: Things you didn’t know about Stoker.
And then there are days like these. It is against my will I swear. I’ll find a book that no one knows about, and I feel I need to make them notice- even if them is just me, trying to put my thoughts in order. My brain works overtime and in a discriminating manner. It throws full passages, long forgotten stanzas... it reminds me that if I really set my mind to it, I could take out that dusty MLA Citation Guideline and spin away, facing the challenge to create something original to go along with my rigid and sacred quotations.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I finally found it, the book that brought me off the shadows- or dragged me back into them. I am writing like the desperate, as if my life depended on it. I don’t know where my essay will get me. I have no idea if I’ll succeed, given the object of my affection: a Japanese graphic novel, written by an ex-hentai mangaka - not the wisest literary choices, but then, I like my diamonds in the rough.

I’m at a crossroad, and at thirty-five I might give it another chance- college, you know, it’s in my blood; all pun intended- I’ll write about vampires again, knock on their door and walk in if invited.

The quote:

"It is only when you refuse to give in with all your heart that you begin to transcend your humanity." Hellsing: Red Rose Vertigo. Dir. Umanusoke Iida. Writ. Kohta Hirano. Per. Crispin Freeman, 2001

The State of my Union

2008-08-24T19:56:00.003-07:00

It seems I've not been doing much these days... that is not exactly true. What I have been is heavily depressed. It has been a rough patch for the last four months or so, illuminated by some instances of sheer joy that came about as quickly as they faded away. When I stepped on to weigh in and discovered that I had put on 20 pounds in the last four months, I just had to say "Bitch, stop it and start working it!!!!!"

I'll get back on track, as I promise myself to leave all worries and disappointments, both at a personal and professional level, behind. There are places to go, people to annoy and bridges to cross (and burn, depends on the mood). I am the best, frigging Medical Administrative Assistant this town can afford, and that is exactly how I'll sell myself. If I got sidetracked, then it was just for a brief spell. I'm back, and it feels great to be back.

If something I had learned from Miss Chinkis (pictured above) is that life is too precious to spend time brooding... I've got into a 3rd degree boo boo situation... what the heck, it does hurt, but it will hurt the less if I keep moving.

LOST BOYS: WTF RANT TO THE DEATH!!!!

2008-07-30T16:19:00.004-07:00

It is Summer... still on movie blog mode...
I am guilty, yes it's mea culpa, massima culpa and so on so forth. I had to do it, after swearing off it and avoiding the "bring it to the big screen plea" like the plague, I decided to give LOST BOYS THE TRIBE a chance.
Reasons? mainly boredom and the fact that I thought that introducing Kiefer Sutherland's baby brother Angus as the lead vampire was kinda cute. So I said to honor good times and goofy classics, I'll give it a try. It can't be that bad.
I was wroooooooooooong. Who ever penned this craptacular toilet paper of a script thought he was capturing the spirit of the original and took himself seriously.
It is not a matter of me not catching the drift, last time I checked, I was alright with surfer dudes. It would have been interesting to see the whole vampire mythos introduced, even tongue in cheek to a life loving, free spirited pseudo stoned subculture. These surfers, however, are boring as hell. Each of these characters come in with their own little story that of course never gets developed. How could you go so wrong by mixing blood lust with adrenaline junkies, manic depressives and circuit legends on it's their own right? Don't ask me but they did it, the most interesting thing these idiotic blood suckers would do in an average night is stab each other to watch their guts spill...
If you cannot follow the level of depression I sunk into after watching this wasted can of film, I'll leave you with this... Corey Feldman was the best this movie had to offer, although not enough to justify Corey Haim's cameo which was like frigging out of the blue while the credits rolled... I'm still trying to figure that one out.
The point is this sad film is enough to keep me from vampire movies for a year, and let me say in self defense that I watched ANKLE BITERS and came out of it unscathed!!!
I would leave a quote as always, but blocks of this entire movie dialogue were borrowed and refried from the original.
Well, at least I reminded my self why LOST BOYS became an instant classic: cool vamps with the perfect blend of scary , fun and thrills. Oh and there is that quasi incestuous theme song a la Fall of the House of Usher... you know Cry Little Sister... which by the way is used over and over again on this installment with no reason or effect at all.

Why so... well you know TDK

2008-07-18T17:40:00.005-07:00

Okay, let's face it, this is the 1,000,000th review you have read about The Dark Knight. However, when it comes to my reviews, I must say that I am surprisingly cool headed going into this movie. I left the fangirl hat at home and after seeing this film, I have no need to wear it.

When critics hype up a movie I tend to stand back. I stopped reading reviews the moment the words Oscar and Ledger were combined in one sentence. I hate to deconstruct expectations. I rather build upon certainties once I've seen it all. There are several things that are certain in this movie, and help me God, I'll go over them without a glimmer of fandom in my eye.

Christopher Nolan will not allow us to forget that he once directed a movie called MEMENTO. The Dark Knight does not conform to superhero movie style, it takes itself seriously. This is a crime drama and it has moments of suspense and edge of your seat tension. It is effective in it's reach, connecting the audience with a city that usually acts as a backdrop to the story, however in this particular installment is brought out in the open as the main component of the film.

It holds no bars tackling a very delicate subject for the Batman aficionado... it unmasks the superhero without taking the cowl off his face. This is a brilliant character study about what makes Batman tick. While movie versions usually avoid getting their main character's hands dirty, this one throws it all at Bats. The audience is left to ponder whether it's hero will endure, will he concede or will he need to reinvent himself in order to keep going. The line between righteous vigilance and criminal insanity of blurred deeper and further than in any other film. Christian Bale reprises his role and once again it is perfection, you can see him taking the pressure in, trying to keep Bruce Wayne to cross paths with his alter ego. He struggles to balance his moral and his ethics against the opportunity of saving countless lives by walking into a downwards spiral. And of course all this insanity is brought about by ...

The Joker. I'll get into Ledger a little later. Right now I am just amazed at what they did with the character. This is not Romero or Nicholson. This is a level of perversion that barely showed through Allan Moore's "Killing Joke". It is a Jungian nightmare. Allow the nerd to elaborate:

According to Jung, the archetype of the trickster- in this case the clown- functions at a very primitive level as a messenger, essential to contact the sacred. This from the happy train of thought that sustains that peoples of the old world could not commune with the gods without the liberating power of laughter. Beautiful, ain’t it? Now imagine our jolly, universal clown gone insane. He is still in a sense a messenger and a mirror, however the message conveyed is one of undiluted terror. This movie pushes the boundaries of PG 13 and successfully exceeds them avoiding the censors because the nature of the violence develops, not from the graphic source but from the ailment of the mind. The Joker does not come off as much of as an individual but as the personification of a chaotic, traumatizing event that takes both characters at a personal and city at a global scale unaware and unprepared for the devastation at hand.

I have to stop myself from converting this into a Anarchy 101 lesson, but that is how fundamental this character is to the story line. Even if he is not consuming screen time, he is ever present.

Heath Ledger did an outstanding job as the Ace of Knaves, Oscar worthy, although I will not place my hopes too high with the Academy. I'm not a crazed fangirl, but I know fans when I see them and this is how I came to my conclusion: I went to see the movie late, late at night, you know it's my favorite show of them all. Yes, that's when the crazies act out; the people who will laugh riotously at the "amazing pencil disappearing trick" ; I went, and waited for their moment of silence. See, Ledger's dialogue is witty, but his monologues are terrifying. He looses himself fearlessly in a character that wants to "watch the world burn". There is one particular rant in which even the hard core joker fans were not cheering, and that is when he delivers the speech about introducing chaos in a society of rigid order. As I heard it I thought, dear God, one hour and a half of the scrawny JJ Abrams monsters tearing up the city of New York could not achieve the emotional impact of these two minutes of dialogue... yes, there is a bit between the lines about us all and what became of us all during and in the aftermath of 9/11. I'll leave it to you to caliber, but it is worth a statue in my book. Ledger's performance is a gift, and of course, it hurts a little to step out from the theater into the real world and know that we will not see him again, but that is another story.

But is is not all about the Joker as you might think. This is far and foremost the story of Harvey Dent, the man who stands between the criminally insane mastermind and the uber-righteous vigilante. It is his fall from grace, not Batman's ability or inability to deal with the unexpected what drives it all home. Don't forget Aaron Eckhart, he did his character justice.

All in all, brace your self for an unexpected movie par with any decent cop drama or high stakes thriller set in a world too close to ours for comfort, even if it's the play ground of the Batman and the freaky guy with the insane clown posse. It is a world exposed to blunt trauma and given alternatives, not the ones they think they deserve, but the only available to choose... either walk away from in all putting their faith, or lack of there of in chance, join the insane parade bent on destruction, or endure in the face of it all and rise the hero.

This is the most I can say without spoilers , so I'll leave it at Best movie of the year so far.

The quote:

" Madness, as you know, is just like gravity, all we need is a little PUSH"- the Joker, trying to get Batman to catch in on the punchline.

Aw Crap! Hellboy and the Golden Army is awesome

2008-07-12T17:27:00.005-07:00

Hmmmmmmm... how to begin this one. I am a Gullermo del Toro fan. I didn't arrive there in a hurry. Long before Pan's Labyrinth, made him Hollywood's fantasy darling, I saw a movie that both repelled and fascinated me. It had all to do with a mechanical scarab able to give eternal life and an insatiable taste for blood to who ever unlocked it's secret. Cronos simply won me over and then it was a matter of waiting for the world to notice. While some people had reservations about Mimic and Blade 2, they were all winners in my book.

Then along came Hellboy. I'm no coward I would recommend this movie in a heartbeat, but I am also aware is not every one's cup of tea. Deep down this is the type of film that make some people uncomfortable. It is not your regular superhero movie, it is not even rooted in reality at a minimal level. The world from which Hellboy comes and that in which he operates is precisely the place that most people instinctively turn away from. And I am sorry guys, if you like your fantasy in a box, this is not for you. Del Toro builds a bridge, gets you to cross it and then burns it behind you.

For those of you who like things that go bump in the night, grab your popcorn and get your freak on. Golden Army promises a lot in the trailers and it delivers. There is action galore, kittens in peril for our hero to save and gallons of Tecate beer. There is also a wonderful, original and imaginative world that gives Neil Gaiman a run for his money.

When I first heard that Hellboy 2 had something to do with fairies, it sorta made me cringe. Even as a fan girl, I had my doubts, you know, dew drop stuff, beautiful, yet soulless beings against Big Red sounded like a mess, but then I saw Luke Goss in full attire and I smiled and said: you bastard!

These fairies come from the most primeval sources, before the Irish sugarcoated them for mass consumption, we are talking Michael Moorcock material... okay geeks, come forward, you know what I am talking about, Prince Nuada is a nod, nah is a freaking neon sign honoring elves who know how to get their hands dirty.

Kick ass sword wielding fairies is not what this movie is about though. This movie is a jackpot. You see I went to see a good action/fantasy flick and came back with a movie that had heart, meaning and gave Del Toro the chance to explore his signature subject: choices, the ones that we are expected to take, the ones we are forced to make and most important the ones we might regret.

In a world of darkness, colors fade away and sometimes good guys pave the road to hell with good intentions and bad guys actually have a perfectly comprehensible end to justify their means. There are a couple of key scenes in this film that will make you think, and that is not what you expect from an intended summer blockbuster. I found it priceless. I thought it an unexpected gift that I could watch this movie with my 11 year old niece and after leaving the theater we were not only wowed by the special effects but able to carry on a conversation about how we felt about the reasons behind the actions of the characters and what would we do if dealt the same cards. Believe me people in order for a preteen to see beyond the explosions, there is need of serious storytelling and detailed character development. I guess Ken- Ken's thumbs up and serious debate about Abe Sapiens is the best tribute to the genius of Del Toro. Keep them coming.

The quote: "Let me remind you why you were once afraid of the dark"- Prince Nuada, right before introducing unsuspecting New Yorkers to the cute, yet vicious and Calcium loving Tooth Fairies

Here there be....

2008-06-18T06:15:00.004-07:00

Dragon Millipiedes? Well, until they discover something that will ground my belief that D&D is actually based on true events... here are the top ten new species for 2008, courtesy of Yahoo News...

Top 10 New Species Named
Jeanna Bryner Senior Writer Live Science.com

Thousands of new plant and animal species were discovered in 2007, though only 10 were bizarre enough, lethal enough or just plain cool enough to garner spots on a new Top-10 list.
Each year, the International Institute for Species Exploration (IISE) at Arizona State University issues the Top 10 New Species list, which spotlights flora and fauna described during the previous year, so in this case 2007.

The new list includes lethal animals like a box jellyfish (Malo kingi) - named after Robert King, who apparently died after he was stung by this species - and the Central Ranges Taipan (Oxyuranus temporalis), now thought to be one of the most venomous snakes in the world.
And a dragon millipede, whose shocking-pink exterior would put a 1980s fashionista to shame, gets a spot on the list. Rather than setting trends, the arthropod uses its gaudy coloration to alert predators of its toxicity.

Some species made it onto the list due to their modern monikers, including the Michelin Man, a succulent plant from Western Australia that resembles the rotund tire guy. Also on the list: an ornate sleeper ray from the east coast of South Africa that was named after the Electrolux vacuum cleaner brand due to the animal's ability to suck up prey in the water.
While scientists discover thousands of species each year, with an estimated 16,969 species considered new to science in 2006, plenty of plants and animals are waiting to be found. Scientists estimate 10 million or so species exist on Earth, with 1.8 million species described since Carl Linnaeus developed the modern system for naming plants and animals in the 18th century.

"Most people do not realize just how incomplete our knowledge of Earth's species is or the steady rate at which taxonomists are exploring that diversity," said Quentin Wheeler, an entomologist and director of IISE.

The international committee was chaired by Janine Caira of the University of Connecticut, and included scientists from across the globe, including the United States, United Kingdom, South Africa, Spain and New Zealand

Stan Winston 1946-2008

2008-06-16T18:36:00.006-07:00

This is a sad day for Hollywoodland as a true, uncompromised artist will no longer share an amazing gift with the world.

I'm a movie geek, plain and obvious, and this man has been behind the most fun I've ever had a movie theater. Most people remeber him for this:

I am particularly grateful for this one though:

Hmmm tasty... I mean tastefully done.

The genius of Stan Wiston will be missed. Thank you sir, for amazing flights of fancy.

Geek Alert! Watch out for the Big Green guy

2008-06-13T19:38:00.006-07:00

Finally got a job, and of course there is no better way to celebrate the joy of pay check than getting back to the best popcorn-fun summer ever.

I'm not much of Hulk comic book fan, a big green angry guy who could barely put two words together never cut it for me. I was how ever as any kind growing up in the late seventies and early eighties a fan of the TV show. I lived and died for both Hulk and Isis- kudos if you know about her.

The reason why I connected to the show is that even at a young age I've always had it for conflicted individuals, see- I was not a fan of The Hulk as I was a fan of Banner and his misadventures on hitchhiking. That is why I decided to go watch this movie, long before it caught on with the hype. The moment they told me Edward Norton would be Banner, I was in, hook line and sinker. There is only one way to put it and this might be something that sounds like a broken record, because it has been the geek word on the street since they dressed up Robert Downey in red hot and gold: Marvel is doing it right.

The bar has been raised to the point in which serious actors with amazing gravitas are engaging these characters and bringing out a human, sensitive side that links all of us to the world of superheroes. After all, it is the heart of the guy behind the mask, inside the suit or in this case within the beast, that allows us to suspend our disbelief.

Other than Norton's ability to take me there, I must confess that what really worked it for me, is of course, the company. Movies like these should be seen with the geeks squad, with people who will point out details and giggle like little kids when they see a certain super soldier serum or an awesome device courtesy of Stark Enterprises, people who know the name address and social security numbers of the head honchos at SHIELD and who will unashamedly applaud at a cameo by Lou Ferrigno.

The movie offers these little moments galore and it also has Tim Roth people, the biggest underrated badass ever!!! Forget about Abomination, when he goes one on one against the Hulk as Emil Blonski, there is so much determination and raw hatred that you know the green guy better watch it. It buils up powerfully towards the climax, which is quite brutal, for CGI... Liv Tyler does her part, as she usually does, sweet and speaking so softly it's like she is almost out of breath. Her chemistry with Norton is believable, as you can see it is heart wrenching to be in love with someone who despises himself .

All in all, it is very, very good. Unlike Iron Man, who took us all by surprise, it is inevitable to pinpoint stuff in this movie that goes beyond the immediate subject matter...I really got a kick about these guys in front of me who where discussing the unfolding of Marvel's master plan. I guess it was a matter of trial and error, but they finally did it we are all in a collision course with the Marvel Universe. Yipeeeeeeeee!!!!

The quote:

[Betty and Bruce need to get across town in New York City]

Betty:" The subway is probably quickest."

Bruce Banner: "Me in a metal tube with hundreds of people in the most aggressive city in the world?"

Betty: Right. Let's get a cab.

No more than a foot note comment

2008-06-04T09:28:00.003-07:00

IN ONE OF THE BIGGEST ENTRIES EVER in history books. For the first time in 232 years of history as a Sovereign Nation, the United States of America grants a presidential nomination to a person of African descent.

You might ask your self why the heck I am not being ultra politically correct and calling Senator Obama an African-American? Because the dash is precisely what bothers me.

Are you a citizen of the USA, be it by birth or by choice? Have you done your part in whatever way for your country? Congratulations, you are an American. Unfortunately that is not the case with all of this US and A- thus the dash initiative, at least that is the way I see it.

As I said, as an American I am proud as hell that a chance was given not based on the color of the skin but in the content of the character (know your MLK peoples). As a woman I am happy that Hillary Clinton got a milestone of her own, girl power! -Now Ms. Clinton, we all know that it is a worthy battle cry not to go gentle into that good night (know you Thomas, peoples) how ever, it is dignified that once you've lost, to go in gracefully.

As a Republican-yesssssssss Pinky-(you all know that one...) all I have to say is hats off to a worthy opponent and see ya at the polls.

The quote:

"A politician thinks of the next election - a statesman of the next generation". - James Freeman Clarke

Indiana Jones and you know the rest...

2008-05-24T14:44:00.008-07:00

There are a lot of things I am not meant to be, movie critic is one of them. As soon as the words FAN GIRL cloud my ability to distinguish right from left, all my understanding of the film industry goes to the dogs.Yes, I've seen a movie that had a surprising carelessness in editing and shallow traits on characters that should be pivotal. It is by no means closure to a series that set the standards of adventure and captured the imagination of audience and aspiring filmmakers for years to come. I could dwell on the pet peeves and get all nerdy about it, but this is INDIANA FRIGGING JONES and if I have to choose a side, I rather be a geek this time. Gimme the hat, Gimme the whip, Gimme John William's Raider's March an I'll be 8 years old again. I'll sit, too excited for popcorn and look adoringly into the eyes of the man that survived the wrath of God.

Knowing this, and trying to be as partial as possible I decided not to get to this venture alone. I had the pleasure of taking in the motley crew

The divine Mrs. Michelle who is a fan, but not a rabid fan girl.

My mom who will tear up at any crumb of spiritual insight

My aunt who is the action barometer (there are never enough bullets or explosions to impress her)

The wonderful Mr. Izzy, who is catching up with all things an 80's child of the free world had at his finger tips just now (damn you Fidel)

And the great Ken Ken who for some reason or another had watched all of the Indiana Jones' Lego adventures and non of the films- go ask her.

These were the people who will keep it real for me, if I were to hyperventilate at any given moment.

IT DIDN'T WORK. That's why it took me so long to write this one... there were good things, there where bad things, but the FUN of seeing Indy once again won't let me think straight. So I'll just do a little of what I liked, what I didn't and what made me raise an eyebrow and say WTF just for a couple of seconds.

What I loved:

Thank you Steven Spielberg for keeping the integrity of the piece. This installment was not meant to be a revamping of the series, nor was a trip down memory lane meant to turn us all in movie emos- shit it was not even meant to convert people to the Gospel of Indy. This was one last awesome fun ride for the fans. It was like catching up with a long lost friend- he might be older, his life might have lead him into another direction, geography and lifestyle might have taken you as apart as you could go and yet, once you are done with that shaky (or should I say EXPLOSIVE) hello, you'll find your self right at home. However because of time passed as it is meant to, and the audience has grown along with the character, there are things that ask for resolution that are happily accepted . We come to terms with half a smile that the rugged hero of our youth was also a man with a severe Peter Pan complex of sorts. Twenty years ago, it would have given me shivers thinking of Indiana Jones getting all his mess straightened, but now I kind of agree that it is time to.

What I hated:

Besides the obvious nerdy pacing and editing stuff that I should mention- leave that to the people who actually make a living out of this, the only thing I truly regretted was how Cate Blanchett was wasted. By rule of thumb, Indy villains must be ruthless, scary bastards. Blanchett's character was no more than a caricature of a Soviet element. She got the robotic behavior product of Communist upbringing, but she never got to really show the cold, calculating, fierce intelligence and willingness for country that kept the US in the edge of their nuclear bunkers during the height of the cold war. Leave the comic relief to the sidekicks, keep my villains neat and clean, so their demise will be equally proportionate to their deeds.

WTF?

I said I love you Mr. Spielberg, but let Lucas handle the aliens. You should know in your heart that there is a reason why there was no CLOSE ENCOUNTERS II. Why, Why , Why... did they have to challenge the X files is a question that will haunt me...

All in all, it is not perfect, but then, nobody promised me it will be better than RAIDERS, heck nothing is. What is important is that I am content just now, HOURS after watching it. What I found really, really cool is that while I was there I couldn't help to grin ear to ear and jump and laugh out loud and go arrrrrghhhhh that is disgusting! once in a while, and grind my teeth and cheer for the man in the Fedora.

As far as my movie crew

Michelle thought it was acceptable and within cannon

Mom laughed more than she cried, which is good, I think

Auntie got her bullets and explosions galore

Izzy had a deep discussion about the advantages of owning a FRIGIDAIRE in the event of a nuclear catastrophe

and Ken Ken reminded me why Indy is Indy... now she wants to be an archaeologist and thinks that Senior Citizens Rock - for some reason she didn't get all hyped up for LaBeouf, which means that Ford's job was done.

The quote:

Spalko: "Any last words Dr. Jones?"

Jones: "I Like Ike"

Things to do in Tampa when you are dead

2008-05-22T19:02:00.004-07:00

or Unemployed which is basically the same...

Kill me people, but I just let go of the proverbial bird in hand to chase the flying one, so I'm waiting for a promising corporate job that will take me straight to Ireland in 2009.

Anyhoo... in the meantime I keep

Watching movies, catching Summer Blockbusters (INDY... I'm so there this weekend) ans getting reacquainted with classics (I'm watching NIGHT OF THE LEPUS as I type and there is nothing better than giant blood thristy rabbits to make me understand that drugs are BAD-what where they thinking/smoking?)Janet Leigh can never go wrong, can she?

I'm getting to spend time with my family and have pictures to prove it. Unfortunately the quality of the pictures is not the best since I always forget my damn camera and end up shooting away on my cell phone... one of the many reasons I'll never make it as a photographer. It is not their fault that they end up in Facebook looking like the cover for DUH Magazine, it's all mine.

I hang around MSN at all the wrong times, like 6:30 AM or the stroke of midnight

Sometimes I feel like I'm going insane and then I happily remind myself that it is not a case of self discovery, but self awareness... I've always been crazy, it is just that when I'm occupied I tend to forget about it

So if you don't see me or hear me...if I am not interrupting your cyber life with pop up windows or spamming your email or dialing your phone... if I don't show up on your doorstep not quite sure what I was meaning to do there, excuse me. And love me, because as soon as I go back to work and forget I'm crazy, you'll get a load of my so called sanity.

The quote

"Attention, Attention there is a herd of killer rabbits coming your way,and we desperately need your help roll up your windows, turn on your lights and follow the police car"- shit I should have written that, but it's from the classic I told ya I am watching.

Prince Caspian:The good, the bad, the bit of theology that drive people mad

2008-05-17T05:26:00.007-07:00

Ahoy peoples of the internet, it is Summer, gas prices are ridiculously high, a recession is on the horizon as they say and it is soggy and hot as ever in the beautiful state of Florida, which means that for a while, this will be the movie blog...

Saw a late night screening of Prince Caspian yesterday, and boy I'm glad I didn't wait for the DVD release. Don't worry the following has no spoilers of the major kind. This is a big movie, and as it usually happens with installments the second tends to let loose a lot of plot that at the moment swamps the mind and makes little sense, so I will not get all deep for fear of drowning. Instead I'll just go over what the child, the adult and the weekend theologian in me got out of it, straight and sweet.

I'm sorry but the seven year old in me wants to go first and who am I to deny the one that holds the popcorn?

Sweeeeeeeeeet Narnia, the gryphons and centaurs are back and this time they get more screen time... yikes, they even get lines!!! I want a gryphon, I want one, I want one!!!!

Is that Puss in Boots? no! It's a sword master mouse! The people who created Shrek bring you, once again a bit of comic relief via small, furry and cute.

To be honest- and remember I am seven years old, I was kind of freaked by the White Witch and her minions this time around. It made me remember The Never Ending Story...

Did I mention there is sort of a sweet but slow bear that will say things when you least expect them? Retarded bears.... Yiiiipppppeeeeeeeee!!!!

The adult in me chuckled at a couple of things

Narnia will never be as effective as Lord of The Rings, no matter how much they match in allegory and content. I must admit I do miss the violence, although this installment is darker, much more than I expected, the consequence does not translate to the screen as well as in the book. There is something about the absence of blood on a big battle sequence that gains PG ratings at the expense of suspense of disbelief. My bloodlust aside, the movie does target a certain audience and it still does a wonderful job teaching kids about perseverance, courage and plain faith, so I'll shut my mouth and believe that a teenager could survive a mano a mano with a mean, conniving and plain brute with nothing more than a scratch.

What is it with Caspain, he is behaving like Harry Potter... damn, the movie has his name on it and he is doing squat. Allow me to explain: to all of you nerds, who very much like myself use you kids and nieces to follow the adventures of Mr. Potter, it is inevitable for us as adults to notice that at all given points, especially in the beginning, Harry ends up as the hero and no one notices Hermione and Ron sweating it off in the back ground. Same with Caspian, he doesn't do much and what he does is not too promising, but somehow, there is a certain lion with a certain design who works in a certain incomprehensible way we'll need to wait to find out.

I know this third entry makes it more than a couple of details, but I'll just have to say it because it made me laugh out loud... what is it with the bad guys on this movie? It seems they crossed into Narnia from Spain some time in the 16th Century, some of them behave like Antonio Banderas- you know, I'm too sexy for this armor- the king is a pain as he was conceived as a bad imitation of King Leonidas stuffed on paella...

Now the very brief theology. Suck it in people. It is there whether you want it or not. Narnia is after all a film adaptation of a book that comes straight off a guy who used to be an atheist, converted and held no responsibility towards Queen, Country or Political Correctness. One thing that I loved about this movie is how easily it places a bit of puzzling and annoying manifestation of the Godhood for all to enjoy: God is God and He will be whether or not you believe in Him or not. For those of you who think me crazy, the best expression of infinite being and God's sense of humor is in Exodus when Moses asks his name and he plain responds "I am who I am"- priceless.

He owes nothing to none, especially explanations. He did His bit you know, he came and died and rose again and that is enough or are all of us really pretending that He will do it twice?

There is not a lot of Aslan in this movie and it has nothing to do with the King Lion at all, the reason why Aslan does not physically interfere is because in their confusion, pride or blinding hurt, Narnians believed he had abandon them. They didnt catch on the design of things, that once the sacrifice was made it was their turn to prove their worth before he who gave his life for them. They forgot that there is a responsibility involved in their deliverance. It slipped them that God is Love and will answer when His children call- and sometimes He will deliver like the US ARMY- you know, it is guaranteed no man will be left behind, but in order to bring it, you'll need to leave a little bit of blood, sweat and tears in the process.

The quote:

"Things don't happen the same way twice"- Aslan

My Chemical Romance - or Old but Happy

2008-05-12T15:15:00.001-07:00

I'm so 80's is not even funny. Once in a while Ms. Lightshadow brings forth something that will push me through the threshold of the 21st century and compel me to listen... however this one comes from a different source altogether.
Kudos to Kendra for finding this on her own and spreading the cheer. Now I know how Lestat felt about his lovely Claudia. I feel old for not unearthing this on my own, yet so frigging proud, rock on you magnificent niece of mine- err- don't get any ideas about throwing auntie in the swamp, ok... :p

Mind the State of My Union Address

2008-05-07T19:24:00.005-07:00

It's been a while since I wrote anything that truly mattered. I don't owe it to important sort of stuff, hence the very fitting title of this blog... However, there is something liberating about struggling to put words together when it really counts.

I am at a point in my life in which I do not wish to be. I am not depressed, I can deal with depression easily. The fact is that I am worried, and a little scared.

The truth is I am a control freak at heart. I never found this to be a point of contention in my personality, to anyone who has a bit of understanding of the wheels that make my family turn, it might even count to my advantage. (Some times it's fun to play wrangler to a bunch of wild Mustangs.) However, there is an aspect of life a person like me cannot face on her own terms, and that is related to health, or lack of thereof.

When I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis I was pissed at first. It all lasted about a week while I got over the words "chronic" and "illness". After that it was a matter of finding out what it was and how to take care of it in such a way that it would seem it never happened. Those who know me know I got my way.

However it has not been the same for my sister, and it is driving me crazy. I see her as her immune system goes haywire, having flare ups, muscle spasms, joint pain and stiffness as her physician changes and adjusts medications and it is tearing me apart.

Those who know me be assured that my faith and resolution is not faltering and neither is Lysania's, I've always trusted God before anything else and I am not questioning. I am simply trying to put stuff on paper as I usually do when things get tough for me, when I am at my wit's end and words fail me... this is in fact my prayer.

Let it there be a resolution and grant me the patience if it not a prompt one...

Ah, there is a quote, there always must be a quote and for the many times I didn't say more than a simple "there you go again, silly little sissy", I'll leave you with this:

"Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart - oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape - of your sister. " ~Katherine Mansfield