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Today's Date :
times are noted with daylight savings and the pacific time zone in mind
One more post afore I take myself off to bed on the living room sofa. (You wouldn't catch me dead for all the books in America in the bedroom my two sisters share - that'd be fair insane!)
*ahem* I finished 1916 with a hollow feeling in my throat, but I was pleased with the ending of the story and the action that took place during the Rising itself. M. L. captured the heat of the fighting very well, and the story was told in her usual intense style. I wouldn't go so far to say that I could see the whole thing happening in my head as it was narrated, but it came really close to that. Did I mention before that Llywelyn is an awesome writer? Yer probly sick of hearing her name by now, huh? Hehe, just wait 'til I get the sequel!
I think my dad got a little irritated with me, 'cause most of the time I was riveted to my book and reluctantly did anything he asked me to do. But that's how I am when my attention's caught solely by a book. In the words of the latest Carl's Jr. commercials, "Don't bother me. I'm reading."
Wanna share another section from 1916 with ya that nearly got me crying (and yes, I'm serious) :
"Does it have to be that way? What makes men hate each other so much?"That is unfortunately the case when it comes to any sort of war, ain't it? Between groups or nations . . . it's still the same thing, esp. when hostilities and hatreds have existed for hundreds or thousands of years. What kind of animals have we turned into?
Clarke adjusted his spectacles with his forefinger. "In a war you don't necessarily hate the poor bastard on the other side. You don't even know him, though you may have a lot in common. You just go on fighting because fighting has come to be the way you live. The way your father and his father before him lived, maybe. You don't think about the morality of it, right and wrong, good and evil. You don't think at all; you don't dare. It might unman you."
Ach, the day's been passing by too swiftly to be believable! Ditto for the week . . .
Despite it all, though, I'm glad we have no control over the hands of Time - that'd be disastrous.
The more I read this book, the more I simmer inside. I dunno why, but I'm suddenly feeling very patriotic, and I think it's kinda weird. Why? Well, if you think about it, America is something of a "house of many nations," with many ethnic groups under her roof. I'm sure each of these groups feel some pull towards their native homelands, but what about the country as a whole? Has America ever had an identity crisis of some kind?
We've had many empires rise and fall during the course of history, and I wonder what prompts man to think that he's so high and mighty that he can turn on his own neighbors and force them to do his will. That's how tyranny works, doesn't it? Violent force, secrecy, fear : all of these are a tyrant's weapons. What one empire has never resorted to these to instill "unity" into its subjugated nations?
Call me idealistic, call me pacifist - I could care less.
Poetry and patriotism seem to be a good match. Check out this piece by Mr. Pearse : Mise Eire.
Added a piece of my own in the poetry section.
When I was in middle school, I remember reading about five Hardy Boys novels in a single day. I don't say this to boast, but I think back then I probly did it just to see how many books I could read in a span of 14 wakeful hours. Kawazy, huh? I guess I bring this up 'cause I finished two little books yesterday, and I felt like I'd been reading too fast. Hate it when that happens . . .
I'm now swimming through Llywelyn's 1916, and my gosh, this book is awesome! A part I would like to put forth by poet/Uprising commander-in-chief Padraic Pearse :
O wise men, riddle me this : what if the dream come true?Patrick Henry Pearse was executed for his part in the 1916 Irish Rebellion. His co-conspirator, friend and fellow poet Thomas MacDonagh, also executed in that fateful year, wrote the following :
What if the dream come true, and if millions unborn shall dwell
in the house that I shaped in my heart, the noble house of my thought?
Lord, I have staked my soul, I have staked the lives of my kin
on the truth of thy dreadful word. Do not remember my failures,
but remember this my faith.
There is no moral to my song,Beautiful stuff, and by a patriot no less.
I praise no right, I blame no wrong;
I tell of things that I have seen,
I show the man that I have been
As simply as a poet can
Who knows himself poet and man.
(Sorry, y'all, this holiday weekend totally screwed me up.)
verse of the week : "the Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. he will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." zephaniah 3 : 17
blog of the week : Ingenious and Ingenuous
word of the week : humble. definition : not proud or haughty, not arrogant or assertive; reflecting, expressing, or offered in a spirit of deference or submission.
I am a bookworm and dang proud of it. Maybe I should start a Bookworms Anonymous chapter while I'm in town?
Went to the library and spent the better half of the day there, scouring the place for the rest of the Hitchhiker series and other kool M. Llywelyn selections and just ski-hopping over books I pulled off the shelves to read on the spot. Yes, I'm bad. No, I don't care. And yes, Danielle, I would love to read your thesis!
Well, so far, today hasn't been very eventful. I woke up late and washed up, expecting something to happen - and, well, nothin' did. But it's all gravy! I'm home for a week before I go back on Friday to check in at school, at my brand spankin' new apartment (YES!!). And then it's off to hunt for a summer job. I was expecting to bug at least two people this week, but I guess now I'm only gonna pester one person : the managing editor at the magazine I'd like to get an internship for. (Hehe, watch out, Mr. Erickson . . .) Otherwise, I'm gonna kick back and relax this entire week, and maybe curl up and finish the rest of Teatime.
M. Llywelyn is one heckuvan author! I loved Bard a lot, and I'm really looking into getting 1921 pretty soon, too. There're certain sections of the book that are so compelling, like this part :
Nial undertook the arduous task of giving muscle to Amergin's memory, reciting histories and sagas and then having the young man recite them back, again and again, correcting him sternly if even one word was altered or one shading changed. "Nothing must be mis-said when bards hand on the past to the future," Nial warned an exhausted Amergin for the twentieth time that day. "Yours is a sacred trust ?if you become a bard at all. The great ones who precede you leave truth in your hands and you must not tarnish it."That's some amazing stuff! It's stuff capable of whisking me away to that time and place, to observe and wonder. It's one of the joys of reading for me. And, well, I guess it helps that my imagination is pretty vivid, too!
Tense, tired, sweating, wishing he were anywhere else, Amergin recited the slippery words again. And again and again. And when he had them right, Nial summoned the other druids to listen and requested them to talk loudly to one another throughout Amergin's recitation, forcing the young bard to stand his ground and learn to project his voice until he could command their attention.
The exercise was torture for a shy young man, but Nial was without mercy. I cannot do this, Amergin told himself. I cannot.
But he kept on trying. And the day came when his voice rang out clear and strong, full-bodied and resonant with power. A manly, mighty voice, flawlessly clear.
And the others stopped talking. They listened.
The heard only the splendor of the old tales, the vivid phrases, the musical alliterations. It was not a man but a living poem, a living history, who stood before them, and when Amergin realized this the last of his self-consciousness fell away. With the bardic gift, he could be bold.
I hate PMS. Why? Well, lemme give you a clue : us girls went shopping yesterday for the bridesmaids' dresses, and a few of 'em were not happy campers by the time the trip to the mall was over. Now as I understand it, no I don't think it's a really good idea to wear a strapless dress in a church, esp. in front of a very conservative crowd. But pleeeeeeease - this is gonna be a summer wedding, for cryin' out loud! Which means no long sleeves! Argh! It didn't help that the PMS was out in full force (I hope you realized by now that I was not one of those happy campers), so that by the time I came home, my mood was so bad that even my sisters wouldn't come near me. PMS sucks.
More tomorrow, if we ever get home . . .
Whew! Home sweet home - I just remembered that I'm part of a wedding in July (yes, I know, I know : "How the heck can you forget about something like that!?" - trust me, I can do it very easily if I put my mind to it), so tomorrow us gals are gonna go shopping for bridesmaids gowns. I've been more or less a spectator when it comes to weddings, not a participant, so this should be a fun and exciting change. (Don't I sound excited? Huh? Huh?)
Haven't touched the Driver's Handbook since we got the new car, and my dad has reluctantly allowed my sister Mir to make use of our new set o' wheels for our shopping spree tomorrow. Koo-el!
Was reading Melissa's blog just now and remembered that it's time for graduation for a lot of college folks. (Congrats, btw, Melissa.) My brother will be graduating from high school close to the end of next month, and I don't blame him for feeling relieved. (And an early congrats to you as well, bro - I know you've only read this page maybe twice, but it's all gravy.) And yet for some reason, I still wish I was starting high school all over again . . . *wistful sigh*
Went to the mall and had dinner (McDonald's). I guess I got hungry for somethin' more (I meant hungry to read new literature, not literal food!), 'cause I wandered over to Borders and browsed for a bit. The latest by Anne McCaffrey, The Skies of Pern, is on my "To Read List," as well as Morgan Llywelyn's 1921. For now, though, I'm gonna set aside Douglas Adams's The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul to read Llywelyn's Bard. Until my friend L.T. mentioned this author earlier today, I had never heard of her. Yes, I'm a bookworm - got a prob with that!?
On the links page, you will find a list of sites on Ancient Greek history. Hmmm . . . I just might be adding links for pages that deal with the histories of the Celtic, Chinese and Mesopotamians pretty soon. I am so fascinated by all this stuff that it's unbelievable . . . and yet it's too fun learning new things. I'll never quit!
Looks like I'm stuck here another day ?which ain't a bad thing. I'm gonna read, pack, tinker a bit with my site, and generally act like a freeloader until tomorrow morning. No more cafeteria food ; I'd prefer a burger from McDonald's any day over that crud. Tomorrow I'll head over to the library and find some other books by Douglas Adams. What a way to begin a vacation . . .
Oooooh boy. I am school free, baby! Tomorrow I move out of the dorms and head for home for the first time in . . . well, several weeks. And Memorial Day weekend is right around the corner. It can't get any better than that!
Sheez . . . what a twist! Just finished watching the Buffy finale, and the ending was not at all what I expected it to be. Someone definitely dies . . . who dies exactly is the surprising part. (And yes, I've been a longtime fan of both Buffy and Angel - I just never have time to watch it.) It's a great finale and an equally great epilogue to Buffy's run on WB.
I forgot to mention yesterday that there was a huge food fight in the Dining Center, and it started a little while after I walked out. I got back from dinner about ten minutes ago, and it is supremely quiet in there - and the staff members are out in full force. Now that I can understand, but calling in a few police officers is kind of ridiculous. So far nobody who was there at the time will say who started the whole thing. I guess my prob is that I missed the fight itself! Dang.
verse of the week : "if I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I am nothing." 1 corinthians 13 : 3
Blog of the Week : story of my life
word of the week : chatoyant. definition : "Having a changeable luster, like a cat's eye or the gem of the same name." usage : "The adjective may be used as a noun to refer to chatoyant gems, e.g. the moonstone is a radiant chatoyant. 'Chatoyancy' is the noun referring to a chatoyant quality, e.g. the chatoyancy of her hair in the moonlight."
Jocelyn was cleaning out our mini fridge earlier, and the little freezer compartment was slowly melting, causing water to drop on to our floor. Now, mind you, I unplugged the fridge before I left for Winter Break in December, and when I came back there was a huge, dark spot that covered our floor. It wasn't fun getting my socks wet everyday, that's for sure. So what Jocelyn did was attack the freezer with her hair dryer, and soon we had big ole slabs or ice coming off the compartment walls. Smart idea, no? Thankfully, our fridge will be the standard size and won't have to be turned off next year.