It was a dark and stormy night. Somewhere in the world, I'm sure. Not here in San Diego. It's warm and beautiful here! Must be global warming! Run! Run for your lives!!!
Phew, that was close. A beautiful, icy cool picture (taken conveniently from National Geographic... shh! Don't tell) restores peace and order to the blog...
Still, something is not right... hmmm... I think I know what it is... can you feel it? Somewhere in this house, the Wagner women are watching American Idol. This is not good, not good at all...
Well, another Monday has spun itself out, unraveling like fishing line. It was a good day. Not a great day, but good. Hey, I'll take good over miserable any day!
Hooked the screaming beast up today. It's a beauty, that's for sure. When I get my new monitor tomorrow (knock on particle board), I will post a pic of my setup. My old high school pal Carey is going to come over tomorrow, and we're going to go to Fry's and pick up some networking equipment (a router, cat 5 cable, etc.) so I can get all my systems online. Whee!
Harsh segue! Ouch!
I was reading The Blade Itself the other night, and I came across a terrific monologue that I'd love to perform onstage some time. The character is a barbarian named Logen Nine-Fingers, and he is lamenting the bloody path his life has taken. Here's the passage; it's kind of long, sorry...
I've fought in three campaigns. In seven pitched battles. In countless raids and skirmishes and desperate defenses, and bloody actions of every kind. I've fought in the driving snow, the blasting wind, the middle of the night. I've been fighting all my life, one enemy or another, one friend or another. I've known little else. I've seen men killed for a word, for a look, for nothing at all. A woman tried to stab me once for killing her husband, and I threw her down a well. And that's far from the worst of it. Life used to be cheap as dirt to me. Cheaper.
I've fought ten single combats and I won them all, but I fought on the wrong side and for all the wrong reasons. I've been ruthless, and brutal, and a coward. I've stabbed men in the back, burned them, drowned them, crushed them with rocks, killed them asleep, unarmed or running away. I've run away myself, more than once. I've pissed myself with fear. I've begged for my life. I've been wounded, often, and badly, and screamed and cried like a baby whose mother took her tit away. I've no doubt the world would be a better place if I'd been killed years ago, but I haven't been, and I don't know why.
There are few men with more blood on their hands than me. None, that I know of. The Bloody-Nine they call me, my enemies, and there's lots of them. Always more enemies, and fewer friends. Blood gets you nothing but more blood. It follows me now, always, like my shadow, and like my shadow I can never be free of it. I've earned it. I've deserved it. I've sought it out. Such is my punishment.
Anyway, it's not that I'm into violence, per se, but I am kind of big on self-reflection and self-discovery. I think you could pack a lot of nuance into performing this piece, which would make it interesting to watch, methinks. He's a great character, actually, and I'm looking forward to seeing how he develops throughout the series.
I'm always on the lookout for good monologues. You never know when you'll need one, right? I mean, you can never be too prepared, right? Right? Sometimes the opportunity to perform impromptu monologues just present themselves in daily life, right? Or am I the only one? :D
I have other monologues saved; perhaps I'll share another when the mood strikes...
OK, here is today's episode of These Are A Few of My Favorite Scenes. It's a scene from the movie Tombstone, which has a brilliant back-and-forth between Wyatt Earp (Kurt Russell) and Johnny Tyler (Billy Bob Thornton, in his chubby phase).
Tombstone is a terrific film, with many great performances that aren't immediately evident on the first viewing. The first time you watch it, Val Kilmer's performance as Doc Holiday really captures you, but on subsequent viewings, other roles begin to shine. I'm of the opinion that Russell's performance as Earp is actually stronger and deeper than Kilmer's Holiday.
Another harsh segue! Ouch! Stop it, Dave!
Random Political Observation: Inauguration Day is upon us. I'm kind of neutral when it comes to Obama. I don't think he's the savior, but I don't think he's the antichrist either. I'm certainly willing to give him a chance to get in there and get his hands dirty under the hood, so to speak. What I find intersting is that he's universally referred to as "the first black President" even though everyone knows his parents were mixed, black and white. He's as much white as he is black; why isn't he also called "the 44th white President"?
I'm certainly not saying his race affects the way I view him, or the way he'll be able to perform as President - I mean, back in the '04 elections, when he spoke at the Democratic convention, I remember being impressed with him (like everyone else), and I thought "Someday, this guy might make a good President." I thought it was a huge mistake to run so soon in '08, instead of waiting to get a few terms as senator under his belt first, but hey, he won, so there it is.
I just find it amusing that such a disproportionate amount of focus is placed upon the more politically correct half of his racial composition.
That reminds me, I saw a great T-shirt today on Boing Boing.
It's probably more amusing to those (like me) who were fans of Run DMC back in the mid-eighties. It's put out by pro-Obama people, so it's not meant to be negative in any way.
Well, I wish I had something witty, amusing, profound or entertaining to say today, but this is it. A mellow mood produces a mellow post.
Until tomorrow, God save the Queen!