By Mona Van Duyn
Setting the V.C.R. when we go to bed
to record a night owl movie, some charmer we missed
we always allow, for unprogrammed unforeseen,
an extra half hour. (Night gods of the small screen
are ruthless with watchers trapped in their piety.)
We watch next evening, and having slowly found
the start of the film, meet the minors and leads,
enter their time and place, their wills and needs,
hear in our chests the click of empathy's padlock,
watch the forces gather, unyielding world
against the unyielding heart, one longing's minefield
laid for another longing, which may yield.
Tears will salt the left-over salad I seize
during ads, or laughter slow my hurry to pee.
But as clot melts toward clearness a black fate
may fall on the screen; the movie started too late.
Torn from the backward-shining of an end
that lights up the meaning of the whole work,
disabled in mind and feeling, I flail and shout,
"I can't bear it! I have to see how it comes out!"
For what is story if not relief from the pain
of the inconclusive, from dread of the meaningless?
Minds in their silent blast-offs search through space--
how often I've followed yours!--for a resting-place.
And I'll follow, past each universe in its spangled
ballgown who waits for the slow-dance of life to start,
past vacancies of darkness whose vainglory
is endless as death's, to find the end of the story.
A poem about movies in honor of George Lucas, who may or may not deserve it, but if it gives us nothing else, hopefully Episode III will give us a conclusion.
This is going to be a fannish post. When I wake up I'm going to see Revenge of the Sith with gblvr and perkypaduan. I am trying not to let myself look forward to it too much, just in case, though I am actually quite excited and expecting it to be...well, about as good at Return of the Jedi, at least, which while nowhere in the ballpark of A New Hope as far as I'm concerned is still a reasonably satisfying ending to that part of the Star Wars saga and I will be more than happy with something similar.
Today was sort of a geeky day anyway: in the morning I went running out to Suncoast, having been told that they had knitted Marvins in stock, but while they had knitted Arthurs, knitted Zaphods, knitted Trillians, etc., they did not have knitted Marvins at either White Flint or Lakeforest Malls. (There were many goslings in the parking lot at Lakeforest, however, which made the drive to Gaithersburg worthwhile although regrettably I did not have my camera.) I got my kids 3" Marvins and Arthurs and found a Father's Day present for apaulled, so all was not lost.
betareject, having been less than amused by my mail of last week describing "big ugly female fans" ruining fandom, decided that the B.U.F.F. brigade needed a logo and created one. *g* Here it is!
Doesn't this rock? Comments here. I need to figure out a way to make an icon from this to use on the TrekBBS. (The icon on this post, BTW, is her fault. *g*)
The Smallville season finale had some parts I enjoyed and some parts that made me roll my eyes so hard it's surprising they didn't end up on the floor. I think my favorite part was the opening wrap-up of everything relevant that came before, ending with Lex's announcement that he is the villain of the story, because he sounds like he wants to believe that so much more than he actually DOES believe it and he does such a lousy job at being a villain, he sucks up to Lana when he has the perfect opportunity to say, "OF COURSE I ONLY WANT THE STONE, YOU STUPID GIRL -- I HAVE NO INTEREST IN YOU WHATSOEVER!" His obsession with Clark is in full swing, which makes most of the episode tolerable while resurrected!Jason threatens Martha and Jonathan and regrettablynolongerpossessed!Lana snivels about having killed Genevieve, a scene I am ashamed to have enjoyed as much as I did (partly, I admit, because I don't believe that Genevieve will stay dead any more than I believed that Jason would last week -- again the old "show me the body and I'll believe we have a corpse" routine).
My favorite dialogue is the bit between Clark and Lex where Lex says that he had to stay in Smallville (with Clark) because some things are irreplaceable, and Clark looks touched, and then Lex adds, "...like the caves," and Clark looks crushed! Oh, Lex, if only you had courted the boy properly he might have asked you for the stone instead of trashing your nice living room to steal it. Chloe rocks, and I love her rescuing Clark and then covering for him though I feel extremely robbed that we did not get to hear their dialogue when Clark recovers from the kryptonite and he has to zip out right in front of her.
But then we get to the weird polar crap, where I was waiting for Mulder and Scully and the spaceship to launch out of the ice before Clark could use the big crystal ship-shape thingy to build the Fortress of Solitude (if indeed that's what he's going to do) and I was left feeling unsatisfied by the ending, particularly since we were also subjected to Lois and Lana prostrate on the ground, looking at smoking Smallville and a possible Clark II. And, you know, Lionel comatose with visions of Kryptonite dancing in his head does not make me happy; I want Lionel conscious and shooting the Jasons and Genevieves of the world.
All in all, not my favorite Smallville season but it held my attention much better than the last one did anyway. Big thumbs up to Lois, hurrah for more Chloe, thumbs down on all the Lana and please give Martha her brains back. Thank you.
Otherwise, I wrote four articles for TrekToday (since I intend to get next to nothing done Thursday in the midst of my Star Wars squee), had dinner with my parents since they are going to New York tomorrow night, and took the following amusing photos of my cats:
Rosie with a halo...well, actually with apaulled's sweatband dumped unceremoniously on her head. You can see her opinion of this.
Cinnamon parks herself on a shelf, apparently envious of the attention the books get.
Cinnamon comes striping past Rosie down the stairs.
ETA: Oh! And I completely forgot to link to this, courtesy vertigo66, on the Shatner/Spader bed scene from Boston Legal, apparently originally discussed on the Conan O'Brien show. Yes really. Spader said, "[It's a] very graphic, explicit, loving scene. Bill and I [are] spooning, wrapped around each other in bed." Then he says, "You can tell a lot about a person by that first impression, that first smell. [Bill] had a very sort of, a strangely very attractive sort of pungent sort of gamey, sort of a venison or a lamb sausage... and a little bit of rosemary with a touch of ranch dressing." *dies*