Monthly Archives: March 2005

Maybe this explains it.

I was going to write something deeply introspective explaining why I’ve never really seen myself as someone who’s likely to have children, but I’ve just taken this little quiz to find out what book I am and, rather unexpectedly, it’s explained everything.


You’re Lolita!
by Vladimir Nabokov
Considered by most to be depraved and immoral, you are obsessed with
sex. What really tantalizes you is that which deviates from societal standards in every
way, though you admit that this probably isn’t the best and you’re not sure what causes
this desire. Nonetheless, you’ve done some pretty nefarious things in your life, and
probably gotten caught for them. The names have been changed, but the problems are real.
Please stay away from children.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

That pretty much sums it up. Or not. Any questions?
(Oh and if you take the quiz, tell me what book you are please! After all, I’ve shown you mine.)

Cure for the blues

As some of you have no doubt noticed, I’ve been a bit down lately.  I’ve found some cures recently.  Katamari Damarcy, which Paul has already blogged about is great — nothing like rolling eveything on a playstation screen into a giant ball to relieve the blues.  The sun’s come out the past week too which always helps.

But the best cure may be something I stumbled on tonight.  I’d try and explain it but I think you should watch for yourself. This boy is young enough to be my child (well, maybe if I’d started sooner than I really did) but I think I may be falling in love.  Each time I’ve watched it I’ve ended up grinning. 

Oh joy for this strange girl. 

Who would you call?

Yesterday Paul and I planned to go the Arclight see the film Shi mian mai fu (House of Flying Daggers), a nicely surrealistic martial arts film I’ve been wanting to see.  But as these things go we got stuck in traffic on Sunset and arrived 10 minutes after the film had already started.  As an alternate choice, Paul surprised me and asked if I still wanted to see Hotel Rwanda, a film I’ve wanted to see for several months, but that I thought I’d see alone as it isn’t really his sort of picture.

The film is wonderful in a way — Don Cheadle’s performance is fantastic.  It, the film I mean, suffers a bit through its effort to garner a PG13 rating.  I say suffers because we end up hearing about acts of horrific violence, but we never have that moment of crystalized horror (in contrast to the moment in The Pianist when the father in his wheel chair is thrown from the upper floors by laughing Nazis when his family says he’s unable to leave the apartment).  I’m not big on gore, but I know what happened in Rwanda and feel, despite its desire to raise the consciousness of the West who looked away from the horror when we should have interveined, it inadvertantly filtered a bit too much.

That said, one of the most thought-provoking moments was the scene where Paul Rusesabagina, the hotel manager and hero of the film, tells the 1000+ people he’s sheltering that they must save themselves, that the West and UN have forsaken them.  He tells them to make calls, to tell people that might be able to help them that if they cannot, that this is goodbye.  The caller and their family will be killed.  I found myself wondering on the ride home what I would do.  Could I help this person who reached out through the phone asking me to save them from death?  Who could I call on their behalf?  I’d try everything, even if I thought my effort was doomed as I suspect most people would.

These thoughts merged into a discussion I’d had earlier about the notion that one life is worth more than all the world.  That the individual life had to matter.  And so, why do I need a phone call?  I haven’t made calls, I knew what went on in Rwanda and, though frustrated at my nation’s inaction, I did nothing more than feel frustrated.  So many died.  Paul Rusesabagina has said repeatedly as he has received humanitarian awards that he only did what he thought he had to do.  He’s also commented that "never again" are the two most misused words of our century.  For indeed, genocide is allowed to happen again and again (witness Sudan) as our leaders discuss whether "genocidal acts" constitute "genocide."

So my question for myself, and for my small circle of readers is were someone to reach out to you/me through the phone begging for your/my help to save their life and you knew you were their only hope, who would you/I call?  Then having throught that and knowing the situation Darfur, why do we wait to be personally asked?

Dealing in death

It’s been a while since I’ve posted thoughts here. Maybe too long since I’ve had thoughts worth sharing. I’ve also gotten far too interested in watching the extras on our Lord of the Rings DVDs and re-reading the trilogy. Perhaps that’s why my first thought in reading an irate rant against today’s decision by the SCOTUS to disallow the execution of minors were this quote from Tolkien:

“Many that live deserve death. And some who die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends.”

There hasn’t been much for me to celebrate politically in the United States for a long time. As anyone reading my blog might imagine, I’ve been a foe of the death penalty since I was a young teenager, arguing against it with my parents. Well, with my mother. My father has always been opposed to it. Though I’ve wandered far afield since my Catholic school days, this opinion of mine that it’s wrong for the state to take a human life, that such deaths are done in my / everyone’s name is definitely an outgrowth of my Catholic roots.

So today I’m celebrating a small victory for justice. Human rather than Texas style.

Oh, and did anyone else notice that all of the 18 states with laws on the books allowing the execution of minors were red? ::gloat::