Humanity: It's Still Out There Somewhere

  I was working on some web updates and blog posts on Monday afternoon when I got a strange tweet on my text alerts. This was the first I heard of it, and I'm sure if my other text alert Twitterer, @ElizaDushku, a Mass. native, had been in the country, she would have been the first.

I am saddened and sickened by what fucking maniacs exist in this world.Boston, we are with you. #bostonmarathon
— Jenny Mollen (@jennyandteets) April 15, 2013

    I didn't know what had happened, but the second I headed over to Twitter, and the second I opened up my Yahoo homepage, it was clear something terrible had happened. I was overwhelmed with sadness and fear--I have a friend living and working in Boston--and I didn't know what to say. I couldn't put anything into words even to say something supportive or nice or heartfelt. All I could do was retweet.

    However, as I followed the news throughout the day, I was overwhelmed once again not by horror, but by compassion and awe. So many people in Boston, in New York, and from around the world were pouring out their kindness and solidarity for those injured and affected by the bombings.
    These people, and as I understand, they've tracked down one of the men responsible for the tragedy, always seem to think that they're going to hurt us, destroy us, and bring us to our knees by doing something terrible. They never realize, or remember, that we will get back up again, we will come together, and we will stay strong, no matter how much they do to try to tear us apart. We don't give up. We stand.
    Sometimes, and it's unfortunate that it happens this way, it takes a tragedy to remind us all that we are one nation, one people, and one humankind. We may disagree about religion, politics, and sports teams, but we are all affected by loss, and we are all filled with compassion for others who experience loss. That is universal.
    We all have the capacity to love, and to offer that love and support and compassion for others, especially when we see they need it most. I have my complaints about the people and the laws and the ideologies in this country, but if there's one thing I know to be true, it's that we are never short of love and compassion in the face of tragedy, and that makes living in this country worthwhile.
    So, instead of revenge, instead of more violence, I want to focus on the compassion and on the solidarity and support for all those affected by Monday's events. It's those things that will make us strong, not brute force or military power.

Make love, not war. Even when war seems warranted.

5 Reasons Why George Lucas Sucks

  Oh, George Lucas, how do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways. On the one hand, I must congratulate you for putting together the original 3 Star Wars films that I and so many others around the world love so much, but on the other hand, I really wish someone had put a leash on you about fifteen years ago.
    Reason 1: We could have avoided those horrible "prequels" where Yoda is CGI and Samuel L. Jackson is a Jedi. And I don't think I need to get into everything wrong with the decision to cast Hayden Christiansen as Anakin. Seriously. But I could.
    Reason 2: You wouldn't have rereleased the original films in special edition three packs (or four-packs) in which you digitally remastered and added extra scenes, including a brand new CGI Jabba the Hut--scenes that weren't necessary in the first place.
    Reason 3: We wouldn't have an animated version of Attack of the Clones.
    Reason 4: Jar Jar Binks. 
And I'm just getting warmed up. As much as I'd love to give you a free pass on the original Star Wars films, I really wish you'd gotten someone else to write them. (Reason 5) When you can't come up with another way to say: "I've got a bad feeling about this" (count how many times they say this or a strikingly similar term in the original 3 films--go on, I dare you), I think it's time to bring in another creative head.
    I could go on, but I'll leave it at that. The story and the characters in Star Wars are too enjoyable for me to tear the entire empire apart (pun intended). The trilogy has some of the best qualities a good film (or set of films) ought to have, a love story--even a love triangle (however incestuous that one may be--thanks for that one, GL), action, terror, an excellent villain, good triumphing over evil, suspense, and some excellent twists. Darth is Luke's father?? I don't know anyone who saw that one coming.
    So, it's really a love-hate relationship. If we could only get you to stop trying to milk this idea for all it's worth, Mr. Lucas, I think we might actually be able to get along someday. I can watch my DVDs in peace and ignore the CGI scenes interjected into them. (I also hope you have a sense of humor about some constructive criticism.)

Pleeeeease don't deactivate me!

Seeing Double

I think I'm going to switch up the format a bit today. Have a chill. Or a laugh. Whichever comes first.

Annie lay in bed, reading The Murder of Roger Ackroyd and listening to some Nirvana. She didn't like bright lights, and as it was eleven o'clock at night, she only had the bedside table lamp on to read by. The plot thickened seemingly with every page, and even though she became more and more tired, she couldn't bring herself to put the book down. Her eyelids got heavier, and heavier, but the story was so good, she forced her self to push forward through the exhaustion and keep turning pages.
    She didn't know what time she had finally drifted off. But the book was still in her hands, the lamp was still on, and the radio still playing, when she awoke again. Her husband was already lying in bed next to her. She hadn't woken up, even though he had to climb over her to get to his side of the bed. Their bedroom was so small, one side of the bed had to be pushed up against a wall if they were to have any floor space whatsoever. She was used to him climbing over her in the middle of the night, and he had gotten pretty good about not waking her up when he did so. She noticed that he had already fallen asleep, jaw slack and snoring slightly, sprawled on what was more than his share of their bed.
    She shook her head, and was about to sit up to close her book, turn the radio off and put out the light, when she saw her husband coming to climb over her to get into bed. She froze, terribly confused. He was already in bed, asleep, right next to her. She'd seen him. How could he be on the other side of her, climbing into bed over her again? She cringed, shrinking away from the impostor. She thought if he touched her, she might scream. Or she might be tainted with the alienness of this impostor. The impostor stayed quite close, climbing over her body rather than just her feet, and her eyes darted back and forth from her husband beside her to her impostor husband climbing over her, and she had a horrifying premonition of what might happen should they meet.
    Perhaps it would be like in time travel stories when one kills the other one, or maybe it would turn out that the impostor was really a ghost or a spirit of some kind who would possess him and turn him into a completely different person. Or perhaps, somehow, his soul had somehow been torn away from his body and was trying to reincorporate itself now.
    It slithered, she thought, as it climbed over her. And she felt like shrinking into the bed itself if she could have, to distance herself from this thing that so resembled her husband, but wasn't.
    It gave her a grin as it finally made it to the other side of the bed--a hollow, joyless grin that seemed to be the grin of something dead, before slipping into? behind? disappearing altogether? the body of her sleeping husband. She gasped, and her breath caught in her chest, like an air bubble that refused to burst or escape. She was shaking, trembling fiercely, and now sobbing, so much that he finally woke up.
    'Annie? Jesus, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost.'
    Her shocked frozen breath now released, and destabilized into hyperventilation.
    'I thought I had,' she panted.

Creepy enough for you? Or just silly? Talk amongst yourselves.