| Unexpected Defender |
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| 06:25pm 23/11/2009 |
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Everyone can hate on the Twilight series as much as they want. That series is just a means to an end. No one is just willing to accept the fact that it's the fault of men and women. Men for not giving enough romance to women and women for accepting the lack of romance and not asking for it.
I'm not defending the series, per se. It's a signal to noise of how much our society's concept of literature has declined but we cant refute the fact that it provides what it promises. The fantasy of romance, one that is mostly forgotten in this day and age. Much like how Harry Potter and the Dan Brown books have captured the masses, it gives what it promises to a lot of people.
And I've noticed that a lot of people hate it even though they haven't read it. That's sad, very sad. It's what the Christians did with Darwin's "On the Origin of the Species". Seriously, do we really want the Twilight series to be the new literary martyr? I'd rather we didn't. Let's put it this way, whenever you think of hating on a book you've never read, think of Pat Robertson and the 700 Club (Or the Puritan Christian Fundamentalists). You've just become one yourself.
I still hate the series though. And yes, I have read the entire series. My dislike for it shall be elabourated on in the future when I get over the seething rage and disconcerting annoyance I got from it. |
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| Some of my fave Eeyore quotes... ^_^ |
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| 06:37pm 04/11/2009 |
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"Good morning, Eeyore," said Pooh.
"Good morning, Pooh Bear," said Eeyore gloomily. "If it is a good morning, which I doubt," said he.
"Why, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can't all, and some of us don't. That's all there is to it."
"Can't all what?" said Pooh, rubbing his nose.
"Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush."
They haven't got Brains, any of them, only grey fluff that's blown into their heads by mistake, and they don't Think.
They're funny things, Accidents. You never have them till you're having them.
A little Consideration, a little Thought for Others, makes all the difference.
Nobody tells me. Nobody keeps me informed. I make it 17 days come Friday since anybody spoke to me.
After all, what are birthdays? Here today and gone tomorrow.
One can't complain. I have my friends. Someone spoke to me only yesterday.
"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.
"So it is."
"And freezing."
"Is it?"
"Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately."
The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.
This writing business. Pencils and what-not. Over-rated, if you ask me. Silly stuff. Nothing in it.
When stuck in the river, it is best to dive and swim to the bank yourself before someone drops a large stone on your chest in an attempt to hoosh you there.
No Give and Take. No Exchange of Thought. It gets you nowhere, particularly if the other person's tail is only just in sight for the second half of the conversation.
"I don't hold with all the washing," grumbled Eeyore. "This modern Behind-the-ears nonsense."
Thank you, Pooh," answered Eeyore. "You're a real friend," said he. "Not Like Some," he said.
A tail isn't a tail to them, it's just a little bit extra at the back.
You don't always want to be miserable on my birthday, do you?
Eeyore, the old grey Donkey, stood by the side of the stream, and looked at himself in the water.
"Pathetic," he said. "That's what it is. Pathetic."
He turned and walked slowly down the stream for twenty yards, splashed across it, and walked slowly back on the other side. Then he looked at himself in the water again.
"As I thought," he said. "No better from this side. But nobody minds. Nobody cares. Pathetic, that's what it is." |
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| On the edge... by me... |
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| 08:42pm 11/07/2009 |
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mood:  anxious music: The rain...
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Have you ever stood on the edge of a precipice atop a tall building, stare downwards to see how high up you are, stretch out your arms and jump off? You feel the wind on your fave, your arms flailing as you desperately try to move it closer to your chest, unable to do so as if trying to completely embrace something far larger than you. You see the ground, clearer and closer. You feel that you are moving faster than you have ever done so in your life yet it seemed like an eternity getting halfway there. You see the people on the street looking up and glancing at you, only to quickly move on and dismiss you as they were waiting for it all along.
Then you hit the ground. No sound. No pain. No one noticing. Like a drop of rain as it crashes on the pavement. All of a sudden, nothing. Everything goes white and turns into nothing.
After a while, you feel wind on where your face should be and you have the urge to open what should be your eyes, to realize that you're still standing at the edge of the precipice. You look down again. You back away from the edge.
Who wants to jump and achieve nothing? When you jump, there has to be a point or at least somewhere to get to.
And jump when they least expect it. |
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| The Best Show Ever... |
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| 10:27am 31/05/2009 |
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mood:  high
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Kure Kure Takora (Gimmie Gimmie Octopus) is a messed-up kids program which first appeared on the Japanese Broadcasting Corporation's JOCX-TV on October 1st, 1973. Every episode is basically about Kure Kure Takora wanting something that belongs to the other characters and then tries to steal it. You don't even need to know Japanese to understand it, each ep is pretty self-explanatory.
While the episodes only run 2 and a half minutes each, you'll be treated to acts of:
* anti-social behaviour (always guaranteed)
* random violence (guaranteed)
* cannibalism
* Love triangles that cross not only species but also plant/animal classifications
* torture
* set decorations inspired by Fauvism
* suicide attempts
Getting to know the gang from Kure Kure Takora :
Kure Kure Takora.
Fact: His best-friend is a weak-willed squash* although he has no problems about leaving him for dead if he has to make a fast getaway.
Fact: Like everyone else in the world, he's in love with a fickle pink walrus.
Fact: Kure Kure Takora employs a type of Ninjitsu where he can turn into anything from a dopey iguana to a vacuum cleaner to a guitar.
Fact: Kure Kure Takora's greatest fear is being doused with vinegar and being served as Sudako (pickled octopus).
Chonbo.
Fact: Kure Kure Takora's best friend and toadie.
Fact: Is a squash-humanoid of the genus cucurbita, who is able to cough up coins for vending machines at will.
Fact: Although he is complicit in many of Kure Kure's schemes, he's just as often on the receiving end of Kure Kure's abuse.
Fact: Very mobile for a squash, Chonbo is often seen somersaulting and tumbling.
To Ro Ro.
Fact: Is a short jellyfish who squawks like Flipper.
Fact: Is able to spray vinegar out of the top of his head via a sprinkler (?!). Kure Kure often attempts to neutralize this super power (Kure Kure is deathly afraid of vinegar) by throwing hats on his head.
Fact: Can turn invisible and teleport at will.
Fact: Is even a bigger trouble-maker than Kure Kure Takora, and most of the other characters are frightened of him.
Monro.
Fact: Is pink walrus with a breathy voice and sexy theme music.
Fact: Acts as the female McGuffin, or little object a, that all the other male characters pursue.
Fact: Often demands unreasonable things from her suitors before she loses interest in them.
Fact: Has been romantically involved with every creature (even the repellent sea cucumber gang) on the show.
Debura.
Fact: A rotund badger who is often seen chewing on the stub of a cigar.
Fact: This tough cop runs the local jail.
Fact: He's the only character who wears clothes* gun belt, holster, truncheon, and sometimes a helmet.
Biragon.
Fact: A dumb, slow-witted iguana.
Fact: He is extremely lazy and spends most of his time sleeping.
Fact: Maybe the richest character on the show, he often has a new gadget or toy that is coveted by Kure Kure.
The Sea Cucumber Gang
Fact: Last, and certainly least, is the repellant Sea Cucumber Gang.
Fact: These dummies have their own theme song which they occasionally break in to.
Fact: I believe each of them refer to anger (Ikari), happiness (Hera Hera) and sadness (Shiku Shiku).
Fact: The Sea Cucumber Gang are on the very bottom of the hierarchy of the characters, and poor Shiku Shiku gets picked on the most!
Episode Highlights:
* Kure Kure is disgraced and is forced to commit harakari with Debora as his "backup".
* Kure Kure and Chonbo work out a scam where they beat the shit out of the other characters and then charge them exorbitant doctor's fees.
* Kure Kure uses his Ninjitsu to impersonate other characters in a bid to spring Chonbo out of jail.
* Kure Kure and Chonbo take over To Ro Ro's spiritual medium/fortune teller business (ie. they beat the shit out of him and take his business) with disastrous results.
* Biragon snaps! After Kure Kure and Chonbo attempt to steal his marbles, he captures Chonbo and threatens to dice him up with his katana.
* Kure Kure and Chonbo spy on one of the Sea Cucumber Gang dancing around in a grass skirt. What next transpires is one of the greatest battle royales in the show's history where nearly every character wants in on the grass skirt!
* Kure Kure and Chonbo find a fire extinguisher and go around spraying everyone's food with it causing some of the villagers to get upset with them.
* Debora decides to run a remedial math class for the village but he finds keeping discipline in the classroom to be a problem.
* Kure Kure sniffs too much incense at Debora's church and he begins to hallucinate about what married life with Monro might be like.
* Kure Kure proves once and for all that cowboys are tougher than samurais.
* Kure Kure begins cross-dressing in an attempt to impress the other villagers, but he's punished for gender transgression.
* To Ro Ro uses a magic lantern to produce a robot servant. Behind Kure Kure's back, Chonbo steals the lantern and gets the robot to do his laundry for him.
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Here's the lyrics to the theme song (and a translation):
KURE KURE KURE
KUREPPE
KURYARUKA
KURYARINKO
Nandemo hoshigaru KUREKURE TAKORA
Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie
Scheming win or lose
Scheming little thief (child pickpocket)
You?ll do anything to get what you want, Gimmie Gimmie Octopus
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| Alice... |
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| 02:21pm 16/04/2009 |
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music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAwR6w2TgxY
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4 November 1864
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Received confirmation from the superintendent that I will be given the opportunity to treat a very troubled and difficult patient. Dubious Honour! Her name is Alice, and her prognosis is not promising. After looking at her file, I'm astonished she has survived this long. She has been nearly comatose for a year.
"Would I have admitted her had I known then what I know now?" -3/10/73
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11 November 1864
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Mute on a stretcher, with her head curiously bandaged, Alice seems to cling precariously to life. Her burns have healed remarkably in the year since the fire, but she languishes in a deep trance-like dementia. It's as if the blaze consumed her senses wholesale. Deaf, dumb and blind to all stimulation, she's a fair match for the infirmary's gloom.
In a frenzied instant, a cankered feline pounced on Alice while she was about to be carried inside. Startled by the cat's yowl, the bearers lost their grip and dropped the wretched girl to the ground. Most curious to behold, the cat stood atop Alice as if claiming territorial right, or as if defending a rodent captured in the day's hunt from other hungry predators. Only when an orderly threatened it with a stick did the creature scamper into a nearby hedge. Even then the cat crouched beneath the shrubbery. With eyes agape, it fixed on Alice as if it had some vital interest in our proceedings.
"It pays to heed the feline--something I've learned over the years." -21/10/73
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14 November 1864
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Her one possession is a toy--a sooty, stuffed rabbit whose single button-eye dangles from a loose thread. Plaything from her time of innocence, and her only link to life before the fire, the rabbit is now sentinel to Alice's deepening Dementia.
"The rabbit may prove a valuable instrument for shock therapy. I should have noticed it sooner" -21/10/73
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8 December 1864
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When I hold a flame to her eye, nothing in her vacuous gaze betrays the faintest glimmer of response. I clap a pair of blocks at her ear. Nothing. Neither her sight nor her hearing appear to be damage, still she registers nothing at all. The rumour (passed on by Reverend Mottle amongst others) alleges that she feels nothing--not pain, or fear or other torments--is neither credible nor kind. Still, she is far, far gone, this one.
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10 December 1864
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Though she appears weak, she must have a strong constitution to have survived until now. Her fever persists, her breathing heaves violently at times and, even after more than a year of healing, burns so massive commonly cause great discomfort. You'd never imagine she's in any distress, though, the way lies there, as lifeless as a British Museum mummy. I daresay, however, that I'll stir her from her dreaming, even if the response is involuntary. I'll begin tomorrow with a steady treatment of cold plasters and bloodletting. The bleeding might cause some relief to her dementia. I also have a new shock apparatus that I'd like to try on her. I'm curious to see how she reacts to this treatment.
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6 January 1865
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Another patient died in the night. I'd been treating her with the same potion I intend for Alice. I had been quite certain she was improving with each subsequent vial, so this development is quite vexing. Perhaps the stronger mixture was too much for her chronically weak chest. A little more experimentation is in order before I feed this serum to Alice.
"A little less laudanum and a little more camphor might have spared her" -13/12/73
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23 February 1865
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Through the windows of my laboratory, I can glimpse the garden ward. Nurse D- is leading a group of children to the airing room. I listen to great shuffling of feet on the pebble path. Will Alice, I wonder, ever stroll the grounds with the others? Will she ever regain her senses? Or, for the rest of her days will she remain cloistered behind these thick, grey walls? Based on her progress so far, it seems futile to hold out much hope for a cure.
"Little could I have imagined her mind would eventually gambol in unimaginable forests and gardens" -27/1/74
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23 March 1865
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Nothing seems to aggravate the girl. I've tried restraint--handcuffs, leg-locks and straightjackets. I've tried solitary confinement. On the other hand, I've allowed her to smell freedom, leaving her for hours at a time unattended in the garden. Yet nothing stirs her. I still have a number of methods, some of which I haven't engaged in since the old days, but I'm beginning to doubt anything can bring about a change in this one.
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1 April 1865
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Each year on this peculiar day I pause--exactly at noon according to my pocket-watch -- to ponder the absurdity of such a day. Is it not ironic that we here should celebrate a holiday dedicated to fools?
The girl has shut down completely. If it were possible, I'd say Alice has retreated even further into what the European practitioners of psychiatry call her "psyche". I'll keep trying different methods, but unless there's some sort of marked improvement, there's no reason to hope. I'll document progress...if indeed there ever is any progress.
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7 September 1873
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After years of slumber, she chooses to speak to use with a picture, a drawing of some sort of cat. Really, though, it's nothing like any cat I've ever seen.
"Even a drawing so bizarre couldn't foreshadow the imaginings to come” - 29/3/74
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10 September 1873
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While Alice napped following her afternoon sedation, Nurse D- took it upon to replace the rabbit's missing eye. Even after living so many years in an infirm population, it can still surprise me when a seemingly trivial act can trigger such a remarkable reaction.
Alice woke from her nap and began to sob hysterically. "Tell me, child, what's wrong?" pleaded Nurse D-. "What is it, dear?"
In an instant of semi-awareness, Alice spoke a sort of poetry.
"Into the hole again, we hurried along our way. Into a once-glorious garden now seeped in dark decay"
She continued to cry, and it was only when Nurse D- plucked the newly stitched eye from the rabbit's face that Alice fell back into her customary state.
"With such behaviour, maybe it was a mistake to stir these waters and awaken her" -29/3/74
I don't know whether to cheer at this response--any response--or grow alarmed over the intensity of her emotional outburst. At least we discovered one thing:
She can speak.
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11 September 1873
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When she is so inclined, Alice can draw. This morning I was greeted by another of Alice's artistic phantasmagorias. What is it she's rendering? I can only think it's a depiction of her nightmare of Hell.
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15 October 1873
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Approaching Alice's room, I heard the muffled sounds of laughter. A pair of orderlies were cursing at her and threatening her with leather straps. It's easy to see that this pair was weaned from the same teat. Alice didn't respond to their tomfoolery; and the orderlies were not impressed by my reprimand. Good help is so hard to find.
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18 October 1873
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The Superintendent paid a visit. The smell of his perfumed handshake is still in my nostrils. He doesn't visit often, but when he does he arrives unannounced and remains overlong. Typically, he flounces through the infirmary pretending to be interested in this case or that. This time, he requested to see Alice and asked for the leeches. When she refused to stir, the Superintendent stretched wide his mouth in a yawn of infinite boredom. When I displayed some of her recent artwork, the Superintendent's attention was caught again as if someone jabbed his fatty palm with a hot poker.
"He was in a very agitated state when he departed" -7/4/74
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24 October 1873
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Nurse D- has been listening from outside the door. Alice, it seems, has been muttering inarticulately. Though no one can understand her, it's likely she's addressing the one-eyed hare.
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26 October 1873
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Her case is not overly remarkable...at least not when compared to the countless other patients who live within these walls. I am not minimising her tragedy-- the undeniable strain is enough to set anyone's mind askew. Imagine the horror of hearing the piteous cries of your entire family--trapped in their burning bedrooms--and being unable to help. Alice certainly heard such screams. I imagine she's been hearing them for ten years.
"Looking back, I retract this statement. Her case IS most remarkable" -7/4/74
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3 November 1873
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I hear the clock ticking onward, past midnight, and then I'm suddenly aware of other sounds. In the barren pit of the night, the most disturbed minds are alive throughout the asylum. Alice isn't stirring, so I listen to the blood- curdling shrieks, the haunting clank of shackles, the insane groaning, insufferable babble and lunatic mutterings.
After the initial convulsions, Alice's body again appears lifeless. If it weren't for the sporadic utterances in her sleep, I'd hold the mirror to her mouth. It's impossible to comprehend what she says. It sounds like "too glum" or "through him" or "boo-jum". Nonsense really. Is it a person's name? A place? Or simply some conjuring of this raving delirium? I yell the utterance into her ear and prick her shoulder with a needle--she gasps, but her speech does not become any clearer.
"Boojum! But how does she construct such fantasies?" -11//4/74
The potion courses through her blood. Sitting in this cold room reminds me of the last treatment here. The shredded padding recalls to my mind the patient who believed rats spoke to him--they lived in the padding, he said. Indeed, he believed the spirits of his ancestors spoke to him through the rats. After the trepanation, he stopped having such delusions and was removed to the Dormitory.
Alice remains quiet.
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21 November 1873
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Once again, the orderlies were up to their usual pranks. Weary of prying open Alice's mouth, the orderlies started "feeding" Alice's toy rabbit, spooning porridge onto the stuffed toy.
"My suspicions are confirmed. Those oafish orderlies are the Superintendent's misbegotten nephews" -13/4/74
While engaged in this feeding, the orderlies learned an essential lesson in asylum protocol--never turn your back on a patient...no matter how docile she seems. From information I've gathered, Alice woke from her comatose state and attacked the orderlies. Quite venomous in her outburst, she pursued one of the twins with a spoon. Even in her condition, she was able to deliver quite a gash. She clutched the spoon like it was a butcher knife, gouging into his fleshy cheek. Ceasing in mid-attack, she turned the spoon on herself, digging it into her wrists, trying to open up her veins. I stitched her wounds and tended to the orderly. Alice shouldn't suffer any permanent physical scars; it's too early to say the same about the orderly.
"An outburst such as this shouldn't have surprised me" -13/4/74
She has returned to her dormant state. Nothing I say or do can entice her to relive her early morning animation.
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7 December 1873
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Here's been a slight change. Her mouth is now relaxed, and we can feed her without force. When it's time for her elixir, she seems to part her lips slightly as if she's inviting the new potion into her belly. Hardly a cure, but any change symbols progress.
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8 December 1873
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A mangy cat was licking at Alice's cheek. It hissed when I entered, and pounced onto the windowsill--it must be flesh and bones only to squeeze through the grate. I could almost perceive a smile on its scabbed face. It's curious how an animal's countenance can appear almost human. There are so many feral cats on the grounds. I wouldn't be surprised if they outnumber the patients.
"It reminds me of the cat that pounced on Alice when she arrived here. More emaciated though." -26/4/74
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13 December 1873
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Something in the outdoor air may have stirred he imagination. On her return she produced an intriguing sketch. Once again she proves she is capable of doing something other than staring at the yellowed paint on the ceiling.
"At times there's talent in her madness" -26/4/74
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15 December 1873
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It's been three days since I removed the rabbit from her room. We can hear her screams growing louder through the closed door.
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25 December 1873
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She has returned to her trance-like state, with one notable exception--her mouth stretches very wide whenever anyone enters the room. Whether it's for the potion or for the food, she's definitely inviting more.
"What she means by repeatedly whispering "Eat me" and "Drink me" still eludes me” -23/7/74
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17 April 1874
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Months pass and still nothing.
Nurse D-, having lost patience with my treatments, insists on trying a "cure" of her own. She stitched the rabbit together and tucked it into bed with Alice.
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18 April 1874
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Interesting development! Alice has returned the gift, presenting Nurse D- with a drawing of a rabbit, though it's quite different from her toy.
"My watch?" -10/5/74
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1 June, 1874
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Out of nowhere, and as shocking as a bolt of lightning across a sky of purest azure, Alice greeted me with a strange grin. And then, lightning bolt upon lightning bolt, she began to converse quite freely as if we'd been speaking to each other like this for decades. I'll include just a smattering of remarks as evidence, not that the burden of proof is with me in this foul courtroom.
"Beware the Snark's poisonous spit...roll the Demon Dice wisely or the game turns on you...note the Centipede has a tender underbelly...I enjoy the taste of mushrooms, but not the ones that bite back."
Regrettably, I cannot regard this maniacal outpouring as an improvement in her condition.
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2 June, 1874
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It's a world of sheer, chaotic terror and unmitigated bloodshed--that's the world she inhabits. So severe are her delusions, so fantastical and absurd, that at times it's difficult for me to listen. She speaks of a nightmare realm where everything seems bent on her destruction. Gigantic Bayonet-toting ants and flesh rending flowers. Carnivorous fish and fire-spewing abominations. The range of hellish creatures populating her world is dizzying. They are, on balance, more deranged than the most demonic triptych Hieronymus Bosch ever painted.
It's as if I have been waiting and waiting for water to pour from a spigot. Now, the water has finally started pouring, and I cannot staunch the flow, nor discover its poisoned source.
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7 June, 1874
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More and more, she confides in me. She drones on and on. I think the elixir is at the proper dosage now. At times, she seems to fear and loathe my presence, yet she speaks as if she can't help herself.
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8 June, 1874
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She spent the afternoon telling of a grisly siege between life-size chess pieces. Having been hounded by a cyclopean pawn, it seems she dispatched the one-eyed monster only to be chased mercilessly over the living chessboard by a pair of renegade rooks. As usual, her description was vivid beyond comprehension, a story decidedly more compelling than anything in Froissart's chronicles.
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11 June 1874
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Dozing off for a few minutes only, I woke to the sight of Alice's freed hands tugging at my watch fob. Shackles might be required for future sessions--at least until she behaves. I'm taking her pencils as well. Let's see if this punishment provokes a response.
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12 June 1874
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I should have predicted this. Without pencil, she turns to poetry.
"Mange-ridden to the core, he leads me through the fray
With the toss of a Jack bomb, I clear abominations from our way"
I asked her to describe a "Jack bomb". Cunning and clever girl, she asked me to return her pencil.
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15 June 1874
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Her conversation contains flashes of lucidity. Certain powerful words, however, cause her to dip back into her fantasy world. And a word like "fire" can, for obvious reasons, set her tumbling into an abyss of sadness.
"Her conversations can be clear, but her drawings show no such progress." -20/7/74
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17 June 1874
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Alice hurled the teapot across the room.
"How many times must I tell you? I only take tea with friends!"
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18 June 1874
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At times, she can be quite civil, and sometimes disgustingly vile. As an experiment, I've decided to suspend all medication, except for a heavy dose of laudanum when she's in the foulest of tempers.
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25 June 1874
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Perhaps more cold saltwater treatments will cleanse some of the chaotic thinking from her mind. She has been ranting. In particular, she's been spouting violently against someone she refers to as the Red Queen.
"Though the Queen dominates much conversation, Alice refuses to describe or draw the monarch. Her anger, though, knows no limit when she talks about what she'd like to do to the Queen." -20/7/74
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19 July 1874
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In her most disturbing outburst in quite some time, Alice attacked one of the nurses while being bathed. Called her "Duchess".
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22 July 1874
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From a recent conversation with Alice:
"What have you been doing, Alice?"
"Attending the tea party of course."
"Was it a grand party?"
"Oh most grand, dear doctor. I fear nothing and soon the Keep will be in reach."
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25 July 1874
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Her sleep is very restless one night, and then calm as an infant's the next. She's become consistently unpredictable.
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27 July 1874
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Alice delivered another verse to her puzzling rhyme.
"They taunt me about the burning as if I were to blame,
I clear them from my conscious with the eloquence of my blade"
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28 July 1874
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She spoke at length of a place called the Fungiferous Forest. It's a place filled with mushrooms the size or large trees; fungus and foliage that grabs those who trample it; cavernous wastes filled with creatures who are as disturbed as any I've ever heard of.
"She's drawn a picture of a place like this, I seem to recall." -2/8/74
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10 August 1874
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It's difficult for me to connect the massively passive Alice to the aggressively assertive, powerful person she describes in her dreams. Her exploits with the knife conjure images of a musketeer's swashbuckling panache; her acts of courage those of a selfless hero. These are not "delusions of Grandeur". This is no simple madness. But what?
"How does she really see herself then?" -24/8/74
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12 August 1874
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"Off with her head!"
Those were her only words today. She wouldn't explain what this meant, though her face betrayed the violent anger that is usually associated with her tales of the Queen of Hearts.
"What does it say about me that I've grown accustomed to such outbursts?" -11/9/74
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13 August 1874
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Everything I can think of, I have done. Treatments, remedies, discipline and pleasures--nothing makes a difference. Alice speaks when and about what she wants, recites poetry on a seeming whim, draws pictures at her own pleasure. She does nothing at my command, instruction, entreaty or request. She's become very willful, and nothing I do or say makes a difference. I truly do, however, become immersed in her fantastic tales of Wonderland. I wait for the day when she claims victory over the Red Queen and her minions, when Wonderland will be restored. Perhaps by this Alice will cure herself, regain her balance and leave this place of her own volition. Sometimes she appears to be so close, but at other times I'm certain it’ll never happen and she'll spend the rest of her life housed behind Rutledge's gaunt brown walls...with me.
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24 August 1874
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"If it's my keen invention you'd like to destroy
I'll withstand your best shot; I've got the right toy"
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What can we draw from this? Alice is in decent care at a Mental Hospital, and a Nurse is keeping a diary of her progress. Alice's fight with the Red Queen is visible even in the Real World, and she is making a constant progress from complete retreat into self-awareness. Everything up to and including the 13th August, 1874 makes sense.
The small quote at 24th August, 1874 is just a question mark. Who exactly spoke those original words, and directed at whom... |
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| Here I thought I was done with these things... Or they were done with me... |
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| 06:42pm 12/04/2009 |
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mood:  pissed off music: The Pipettes
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In a cold, dark place...
Girl: You know, I'm a Wiccan... *giggling*
Me: Really? I haven't met any new Wiccans in a really long time. What books are you reading now? I'm partial to the Necronomicron and Anton LaVey's bible.
Girl: Oh, that's old school, right? I read the new stuff... Harry Potter! All 7 books! Cool, no?
Me: *stunned... for a good minute* :::walks away:::
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Damn it, I thought I was free from stupidity of this magnitude? ~_~ Apparently not. |
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| No one ever expects it... |
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| 10:10pm 05/04/2009 |
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mood:  bored
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Chapman: Trouble at mill.
Cleveland: Oh no - what kind of trouble?
Chapman: One on't cross beams gone owt askew on treadle.
Cleveland: Pardon?
Chapman: One on't cross beams gone owt askew on treadle.
Cleveland: I don't understand what you're saying.
Chapman: [slightly irritatedly and with exaggeratedly clear accent] One of the cross beams has gone out askew on the treadle.
Cleveland: Well what on earth does that mean?
Chapman: *I* don't know - Mr Wentworth just told me to come in here and say that there was trouble at the mill, that's all - I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
[JARRING CHORD]
[The door flies open and Cardinal Ximinez of Spain [Palin] enters, flanked by two junior cardinals. Cardinal Biggles [Jones] has goggles pushed over his forehead. Cardinal Fang [Gilliam] is just Cardinal Fang]
Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise...surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Our two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... Our *three* weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope.... Our *four*...no... *Amongst* our weapons.... Amongst our weaponry...are such elements as fear, surprise.... I'll come in again.
[The Inquisition exits]
Chapman: I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
[JARRING CHORD]
[The cardinals burst in]
Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope, and nice red uniforms - Oh damn!
[To Cardinal Biggles] I can't say it - you'll have to say it.
Biggles: What?
Ximinez: You'll have to say the bit about 'Our chief weapons are ...'
Biggles: [rather horrified]: I couldn't do that...
[Ximinez bundles the cardinals outside again]
Chapman: I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
[JARRING CHORD]
[The cardinals enter]
Biggles: Er.... Nobody...um....
Ximinez: Expects...
Biggles: Expects... Nobody expects the...um...the Spanish...um...
Ximinez: Inquisition.
Biggles: I know, I know! Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. In fact, those who do expect -
Ximinez: Our chief weapons are...
Biggles: Our chief weapons are...um...er...
Ximinez: Surprise...
Biggles: Surprise and --
Ximinez: Okay, stop. Stop. Stop there - stop there. Stop. Phew! Ah! ... our chief weapons are surprise...blah blah blah. Cardinal, read the charges.
Fang: You are hereby charged that you did on diverse dates commit heresy against the Holy Church. 'My old man said follow the--'
Biggles: That's enough.
[To Cleveland] Now, how do you plead?
Clevelnd: We're innocent.
Ximinez: Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
[DIABOLICAL LAUGHTER]
Biggles: We'll soon change your mind about that!
[DIABOLICAL ACTING]
Ximinez: Fear, surprise, and a most ruthless-- [controls himself with a supreme effort] Ooooh! Now, Cardinal -- the rack!
[Biggles produces a plastic-coated dish-drying rack. Ximinez looks at it and clenches his teeth in an effort not to lose control. He hums heavily to cover his anger]
Ximinez: You....Right! Tie her down.
[Fang and Biggles make a pathetic attempt to tie her on to the drying rack]
Ximinez:Right! How do you plead?
Clevelnd: Innocent.
Ximinez: Ha! Right! Cardinal, give the rack [oh dear] give the rack a turn.
[Biggles stands their awkwardly and shrugs his shoulders]
Biggles: I....
Ximinez: [gritting his teeth] I *know*, I know you can't. I didn't want to say anything. I just wanted to try and ignore your crass mistake.
Biggles: I...
Ximinez: It makes it all seem so stupid.
Biggles: Shall I...?
Ximinez: No, just pretend for God's sake. Ha! Ha! Ha!
[Biggles turns an imaginary handle on the side of the dish-rack]
[Cut to them torturing a dear old lady, Marjorie Wilde]
Ximinez: Now, old woman -- you are accused of heresy on three counts -- heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action -- *four* counts. Do you confess?
Wilde: I don't understand what I'm accused of.
Ximinez: Ha! Then we'll make you understand! Biggles! Fetch...THE CUSHIONS!
[JARRING CHORD]
[Biggles holds out two ordinary modern household cushions]
Biggles: Here they are, lord.
Ximinez: Now, old lady -- you have one last chance. Confess the heinous sin of heresy, reject the works of the ungodly -- *two* last chances. And you shall be free -- *three* last chances. You have three last chances, the nature of which I have divulged in my previous utterance.
Wilde: I don't know what you're talking about.
Ximinez: Right! If that's the way you want it -- Cardinal! Poke her with the soft cushions!
[Biggles carries out this rather pathetic torture]
Ximinez: Confess! Confess! Confess!
Biggles: It doesn't seem to be hurting her, lord.
Ximinez: Have you got all the stuffing up one end?
Biggles: Yes, lord.
Ximinez [angrily hurling away the cushions]: Hm! She is made of harder stuff! Cardinal Fang! Fetch...THE COMFY CHAIR!
[JARRING CHORD]
[Zoom into Fang's horrified face]
Fang [terrified]: The...Comfy Chair?
[Biggles pushes in a comfy chair -- a really plush one]
Ximinez: So you think you are strong because you can survive the soft cushions. Well, we shall see. Biggles! Put her in the Comfy Chair!
[They roughly push her into the Comfy Chair]
Ximinez [with a cruel leer]: Now -- you will stay in the Comfy Chair until lunch time, with only a cup of coffee at eleven. [aside, to Biggles] Is that really all it is?
Biggles: Yes, lord.
Ximinez: I see. I suppose we make it worse by shouting a lot, do we? Confess, woman. Confess! Confess! Confess! Confess
Biggles: I confess!
Ximinez: Not you! |
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| ... |
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| 04:15pm 19/03/2009 |
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mood: angry
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I'm going nowhere fast. Why am I even here? |
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| 03:55pm 17/03/2009 |
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I feel so fucking useless... |
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| Weirdest Random Memory Ever... |
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| 12:25am 13/03/2009 |
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mood: depressed music: Weirdly enough... My Chemical Romance
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I don't know why I suddenly remembered this...
It was my first day of the first grade. I was excited, complete with hopping and skipping. I went to my assigned classroom as fast as I could. When I got there, I could see an entire class being given a lesson. I was scared. I was freaked out. I was aghast that I was late on my first day of grade school. I started to cry. I was protesting why they couldnt wait for me. The teacher was panicking trying to explain something to me that I couldnt understand cuz I was crying so hard. It took her awhile to make cry less and explain that she was still teaching the AM class and I was really early for the PM class (of which I was part of). I blocked out that memory. I didn't even tell my mom. That's when I learned to keep the bad things that happened to me from my mom. And true enough, a lot more would follow over the years. But I cried less and less til I ran out of tears. I don't feel much nowadays but that memory reminded me of weaker and more innocent times. |
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