Sunsets, Stars, West, Wind
The Avengers (2012)4 out of 5 stars
Fun. Early summer blockbuster. Popcorn for the brain. Terry and I loved every minute of it.
Gives a new meaning to ‘can’t we all just get along?’
I was disappointed for Thor. He makes a trip back to save the Earth (again) and still didn’t get to spend anytime with his girlfriend.
Ghost in the Shell (1995)3.5 out of 5 stars
After reading Scalzi‘s Filmcritic.com post this week, which featured nine science fiction movies I might have overlooked, I added several of them to my Netflix queue(s) (both disk and streaming) with the intention of watching at least one of them over the weekend. A few on his list I watched years ago. Since I didn’t get my last disk in the mail until last Friday, I decided to watch the cyberpunk anime almost cult classic Ghost in the Shell. I have Destination Moon (co-written by Heinlein, who also served as a technical adviser on the film) in the mail for Monday night.
I couldn’t have avoided anime if I tried with two artists for offspring. My son, Derek, especially fits the target audience for this subject matter, although I’m not sure the deeper philosophical ‘meaning of life’ questions would have been absorbed by his consciousness a decade ago (when he was a sophomore in high school). I remember my daughter being caught up in the Pokemon fad, even taking her to the movie theater to watch a film based on that character. My personal favorite remains Miyazaki’s post-apocalyptic fantasy adventure film Nausicaa of the Valley of the Winds. I not only own an unabridged subtitled (not dubbed) DVD but the manga as well. But I’m partial to post-apocalyptic tales.
Cyberpunk, on the other hand, just doesn’t do much for me. Several years ago, I read the classic Gibson novel Neuromancer as part of a group read for discussion. I still haven’t gotten around to reading the other cyberpunk ‘must read’ Snow Crash by Stephenson. So I started Ghost in the Shell with some trepidation.
I enjoyed the visuals. Kudos to mid-90s tech and the seamless integration of traditional animation (well, traditional for the Japanese anyway) and computer graphics. I focused on the deeper undercurrents, the ghostly whispers heard by the protagonist, Major Kusanagi, and her musings and conclusions derived therefrom.
I found it odd, and perhaps a bit ironic, that the climax erupts in an abandoned museum, riddling murals of dinosaur fossils and a tree of ‘life’ rooted in ectoplasmic ancient history and branching up to the pinnacle of hominids with bullet holes, culminating with the evolution of a new life form from the ruins and desolation of human endeavors.
But what really got me scratching my head came during the epilogue, with an awakened and evolved cybernetic child’s first image, seen dimly across the room, is her own image in a dark mirror. And just a few seconds lately, she explains to her ex-partner and rescuer, the meaning behind her previous whispers, and then quotes the Bible! Specifically 1 Corinthians 13, with just touch of artistic license to add some personalization for the character.
When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways.
But it’s the next verse that whispered to her earlier:
For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.
This verse is no stranger to science fiction. Philip K. Dick used it obliquely in the title of his 1977 novel A Scanner Darkly. I think there’s even an original Star Trek episode that includes some variation on this verse, perhaps it was Mirror, Mirror?
Other translations of the twelfth verse offer different reflections:
For now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
KJV
Now we see things imperfectly as in a poor mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God knows me now.
NLT
It is the same with us. Now we see a dim reflection, as if we were looking into a mirror, but then we shall see clearly. Now I know only a part, but then I will know fully, as God has known me.
NCV
I must assume the use of these quoted verses by the director and/or writers of Ghost in the Shell plucked them from First Corinthians and intended to use them completely out of context with the rest of the thirteenth chapter (more commonly known as ‘The Love Chapter’ and a frequent wedding vow inspiration). For there was little of love, an absence of faith, and a scarcity of hope, for humans at least, in the Ghost in the Shell.
So these three things continue forever: faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love.
Tor surprised me (and many other Wheel of Time fans) yesterday by releasing Michael Whelan’s cover art for A Memory of Light, just one week after revealing Darrell K. Sweet’s color sketch for the same final volume of that epic fantasy series.
When I first laid eyes of Michael’s painting, I knew this is what I’d been waiting to envision for more than two decades.
First, let me share the front cover as you’ll see it next January:
Next, the entire panel, sans lettering, synopses or endorsements, and a bit of a spoiler, if you can guess (or know) who the other two figures are (besides Rand who is front and center above):
Michael cleverly hid Rand’s missing left hand, yet I love the stance he’s chosen and the determination and tension emanating from Rand. I’m curious about the eclipsed sun though, and hope the author(s) didn’t fall for that overused cliche’ for this pivotal moment in the Last Battle.
I am one step closer to knowing the answer (on January 8, 2013) to the question posed over two decades ago (on January 15, 1990) in Eye of the World. I plan to while away the remaining months re-reading the entire Wheel of Time series. The real challenge will come next January, when I should be re-reading Crossroads of Twilight, but may not be able to resist the undeniable pull of A Memory of Light.
My last two posts on Remembering Roxy dealt peripherally with her main fascination with anything remotely food-like. Actually, let’s be completely honest, Roxy had an overriding addiction to food and anything closely resembling it. She had a particular obsession with paper products (paper towels and facial tissues, but not toilet paper … thank goodness!) and never passed a trash can she didn’t like (or that she didn’t want to root around in).
Roxy, like most if not all of the Rottweilers we’ve had over the years, lived for meal times. She was incapable of self-feeding herself (I’ve heard that some other breeds of dogs actually know when to stop eating and therefore can have more food put in their dish than they would likely (or should) eat at one meal). Most mornings, I would measure out a cup or a cup and a half of dry dog food and wait for Roxy to settle down (either sitting and laying down). Then I would dump the food in her dish, stand back and give her the signal that she could proceed. By the time I walked over to Apollo’s dish with his cup of food (a matter of a couple of steps), Roxy had finished her breakfast. I ignored her and gave Apollo his breakfast, encouraging him to eat it (unlike Roxy, you have to cheer Apollo on or he won’t eat). I’d then let Roxy out, and watch Apollo watching (and sometimes growling) at Roxy to keep her from snatching away his breakfast (which she would try to do if Apollo got distracted). Never mind that Apollo probably wouldn’t eat it or would take his own sweet time to consume his breakfast, he was not going to let Roxy anywhere near his dish.
I remember one weeknight when the band was over for practice and Terry demonstrated Roxy’s snarfing ability for the disbelieving guys. She convinced them of her food ferocity.
Several times over the years, if Terry or I forgot to close the door securely to the band room (where we kept the fifty pound bag of dog food and the dog dishes), Roxy would wait for Terry to take a nap and sneak downstairs for a snack. We could always tell when she’d succumbed to her stomach, not only because the dog food bag would be tipped over or otherwise disturbed, but also by the evidence of her distended belly. Roxy never learned to resist the bottomless pit that was her stomach, even though she would suffer for most of the day.
During the year before we rescued Apollo, Roxy would clear the kitchen counters for us whenever we left her home alone. She particularly liked my fresh baked bread. Terry got so frustrated with her they got into a scuffle over her behavior. I learned to put the bread (and anything else remotely edible) up in the cabinets with the plates before we left the house. Roxy eventually learned we weren’t going to let her starve and she didn’t need to raid the pantry, the counters or the trash can.
Both of Roxy’s dishes stand empty in the corner of the band room now. The bag of dog food I bought at the end of February still has plenty left in it. Most days I can only get Apollo to eat one meal, unless I bribe him with a can of ‘beef cuts in gravy’ dog food. You can tell he’s lost some weight, but some of that may be the both of our increased physical activity with my walking regimen. Every morning, I miss not putting the food in her bowl and making her wait, impatiently and with the drool polling on her paws, until I let her have at her food. You could definitely hear the sound of the wind created by the vacuum left in her empty dish a split second later.
I came home last night to a sweet surprise waiting on my dining room table from my wonderful husband: Beautiful roses, a thoughtful card and a gift card to my favorite local clothing store. I thought I’d share the flowers with friends and family here.
Since Terry hasn’t been feeling well the last few days, we relaxed around the house, watching an episode of Chopped All Stars we’d recorded on the DVR and a couple of last week’s Jeopardy episodes. We ended the evening playing nine holes of Frisbee golf via Wii Resort Sports. Just like we did last year when we played real miniature golf, we tied (one under par for both of us).
Tonight, provided Terry feels up to it, we will meet up with a couple for dinner and attend the annual KCKCC Jazz night at Spirituality and All That Jazz, hosted at Unity Temple on the Plaza.
Here’s more on tonight’s performance:
A full night of Jazz is in store by the Kansas City Kansas Community College Jazz Department, under the direction of Jim Mair. They will be showcasing their 17-piece Big Band Jazz Ensemble, and the 9-piece Latin Jazz Band. These groups have performed at the Montreaux, Switzerland Jazz Festival and are the first and only Community College Jazz group to perform at the New York City JVC Jazz Festival. They’ve also received invitations to play at the Puerto Vallarta, Hawaii and Morocco Jazz Festivals. They will also be featuring the chorales of the #1 Vocal Jazz Ensemble in the Kansas City Metropolitan area directed by John Stafford.
Terry and I celebrate 26 years together today. May Day! (it’s an old joke with us).
Happy Anniversary to my wonderful hubby. Love You!
Click here for last year’s ‘Way Back Machine’ post I wrote for our 25th anniversary.