Friday, October 26, 2007

Poem for Friday


Love VII
By Emily Dickinson


I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too—
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.

--------


These entries are likely to be fragmentary and boring for awhile. I talked to the TrekToday site owner; he may be angry that I am leaving but he is being very civil, in part because he wants me to stay until he finds a replacement. The good news is that I get to keep reviewing Next Gen. I told him I'm happy to fill in when he needs me, there are just certain stories about certain people that I won't write. *g* Today I wrote three trivial Trek articles that were completely painless, I guess because I don't feel like I'll be drowning in this stuff forever.

Had the contractor and his people here in the morning, discussing what insurance is and is not covering in terms of painting (every ceiling in this house is adjacent really, and most of the walls). Discovered we have to move a ton (possibly literally) of stuff in the living room so the walls can be painted. Had a lovely lunch with at Tara Thai, where we haven't been in months -- I was so in the mood for Tom Ka Gai and Pad See Ew! Came home, had entertaining discussion of ancient history over homework with Adam, saw via E! Online that Angels and Demons is scheduled to start shooting if they can get a script in before the writers' strike, which pleases me because I rather liked The Da Vinci Code, having no great literary expectations of it. Here are some photos from Lilypons -- I wish I was better at judging how much polarizing I need!













Before Smallville and the very silly Next Gen episode "The Outrageous Okona" that I somehow must review coherently tomorrow, we put on the second half of last night's Pushing Daisies, my current favorite show by a long stretch. I really adore everything about this series -- the cast, the visual style, the dialogue, the funny macabre storyline, the number of awesome quirky women -- but if I needed some other reason, Kristen Chenoweth and Ellen Greene singing They Might Be Giants' "Make a Little Birdhouse in Your Soul" would bring automatic adoration from me. What a brilliant moment of television, with those over-saturated colors in the background and the bejeweled pigeon and Charlie from Heroes and...oh, just bliss!

Smallville did not make me squee nearly so much, though this was one of the season's better episodes if one got over the "There's a whole segment of our fans who are obsessed psychos!" theme on the part of the writers. On any other show I'd be pleased that the writers don't see the superhero's girlfriend as so passive and brainless that she needs to be removed so the superhero can fulfill his destiny ("In the comic book world, when you're destined to save mankind, you're destined to be alone"), but on this show, since it's Lana...oh, at least she's acting like a Luthor this season, but UGH the Clark/Lana playing house and Chloe shoved off to the side and Lois practically not there...why, Gough/Millar, why! And when did Lana forget that she knew karate?

My favorite moment, naturally, was Lex's announcement that he stopped reading Warrior Angel once he realized that the world was not black and white, but shades of gray, something the show's writers often seem to have a hard time admitting. (This is obviously fantasy-land because in the Warrior Angel movie they got every complicated shot in a single take! I've seen some of Smallville's dailies and I know they can't do that even on a limited TV budget!)

At the end when the girl playing Lana Warrior Angel's girlfriend brought Clark the box, my son said, "I bet it's the phony red sheep!" (which is a joke from that Five for Fighting "Superman" song, "I'm only a man in a phony red sheet" that my son insists upon hearing as "phony red sheep"), and when Clark opened the box and the cape was in it and Clark hung it over the fence, I howled. Now I will forever have a mental image of Superman riding on a red sheep.

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