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Apologies to all who don't get the joke.
Showing posts with label Sandman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sandman. Show all posts
Friday, August 12, 2022
Monday, October 19, 2020
Helstrom: Mother's Little Helpers (Ep. 1.01)
Helstrom is a Marvel property. No, Marvel does not have their name attached to it. Horror is not what Marvel is known for, especially not these days with their bright and shiny super heroes having so much success. Marvel has never been exactly successful with doing horror in their comics. We can call it being a victim of their own success.
Marvel's well-defined universe and tight continuity never left a lot of room for horror. When you reduce hell to just another dimension, it takes the horror out of the evil. Lots of things are evil, after all (just look at the current administration).
I don't have a lot of knowledge about the origins of Daimon Helstrom in the comics (and I'm only, on purpose, going to go off of the knowledge I already have, pre-research, because most people won't have a clue about the character at all). I know that in his early iterations he was known as the "Son of Satan," or some such. I don't know if it was literally supposed to be Satan or not, and it doesn't really matter. Helstrom was a character who never really caught on. Which brings us up to the 90s...
The 90s brought us a new surge of horror in comics, something that had been absent, on the whole, for more than a decade at least. Marvel brought Ghost Rider back and, with him, a slew of "supernatural" beings and DC had The Sandman and Hellblazer and, then, the whole Vertigo thing. But, see, Ghost Rider, at its core, was still a super hero comic and so were all of the related titles that came after. Marvel wanted to get its feet into the horror genre and, so, they brought back Hellstrom. The comic was called, completely unironically, Hellstorm.
I have that series, probably the whole run. I don't remember it very well other than that I thought it was pretty good... at first... until it became what Marvel does: a superhero book. The art was dark and atmospheric, but Marvel just didn't have a grip on horror and how to cling to it. Their universe was too established and nothing was what we think of as "supernatural," except in the very literal definition of the word. The series didn't last and Daimon Helstrom faded back into obscurity.
That was then. I have no idea what's going on in comic books these days, so maybe he has a new series to accompany his new TV show. Yeah, I could look it up, but I try to keep my nose as much away from comics as I can, because I can't afford to get sucked back into them, not until I get rid of a buttload of the ones I already have. Look, if you saw my garage, you'd understand.
Let's just say that I was completely surprised when I saw this was coming out on Hulu and more surprised not to see Marvel's name attached to it. Because it is Marvel's Helstrom, not just Hulu stealing the name. But see, Marvel isn't known for horror or for shows with mature content, which this show is full of. You can't have a bunch of six-year-olds watching a show like this after being allowed by unsuspecting parents because it said "Marvel." Also, it gives Marvel a chance to test the waters in the horror genre again, in TV this time.
And this is an interesting thing because DC, who has always had a better handle on horror, has been failing with their darker shows the last few years. Hellblazer didn't last a season. Preacher... well, I don't know exactly what to say about Preacher. It's dark but it doesn't really get to horror. It's just vampires and gore and stuff. What I'm saying is that DC has been struggling in an area they have traditionally been much better at than Marvel, but, then, DC is just struggling. I bet they have a lot riding on this new Sandman series that just went into production.
So if this new Helstrom TV show does well...? Who knows. Maybe we'll get some dark, supernatural stuff integrated into the MCU, which would be an interesting ride if they can pull it off.
And if the first episode, "Mother's Little Helpers," of this new series is any indication, they will pull it off. It had me from the opening, which I'm going to spoil here, but it's, like, the first 10 minutes, maybe, of the episode, so I'm not going to feel bad about that.
We open with Daimon and some nun going to a house to perform an exorcism. Daimon is not happy and, from later context, we come to understand that he feels like his time is being wasted by the Catholic church and this nun in particular. They, the church, don't understand demonic powers and keep sending Helstrom to deal with things like this exorcism of a possessed boy.
So Daimon, after a quick trip to the bathroom, goes alone up to the boy's room without even a Bible or a crucifix, something which seems to be unsettling to the parents but, then, the mother is sitting at the dining table getting drunk, so who know. The boy in question comes scuttling out from under his bed spewing Latin when Daimon enters the room. The walls of the bedroom are smeared with shit, the boy's shit, and the kid goes off on how his parents aren't even worth that much.
Daimon pulls out a vial, tells the boy it's holy water straight from the Vatican, and flings it on him. The kid goes into convulsions... which is when Daimon tells him that he stopped in the bathroom for the water on the way to the kid's room, but not water from the toilet, because he's not that bad. Which is the point I was hooked on the show. Helstrom demonstrates some actual supernatural power and tells the boy to clean the shit up, literally, and to use bleach.
The boy was faking, just to be clear.
Pretty great opening for a show of this nature, I thought.
I'm two episodes in, and I think it's going to be a good series. It's doing what Marvel is good at: building a story. It's slow and brooding, so far, while still having plenty of action. It just doesn't have that rushed feeling that so much of the stuff from DC has. I did consider doing reviews for each episode, but I've decided against that. After watching the second episode, I couldn't decide what I'd talk about other than giving a synopsis, and you can get that from imdb. I'll probably re-visit the series when I finish the first season, and, no, I have no idea how long that will take. Even if I make it a priority. I could finish it before the end of the month (preferred) or, with me, I could still be working on season one next October. I guess we'll just see.
If you're looking for a good skin-crawling horror show for October, from what I've seen so far, this could be your thing.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
The Hand of Neil
Let me just start out by saying, Neil Gaiman owns his very own copy of Shadow Spinner.
"What?!" you may be asking, "How is that possible? And, if it was, how would you even know?"
Well, give me a moment, and I'll get there.
Gaiman has, perhaps, been more influential on me as a writer than anyone else, but it's not his writing that did it. Which is not to say that it wasn't something he wrote; it just wasn't any of his stories. As I mentioned waaay back in my post 400 Words, it was something Gaiman said about Terry Pratchett that finally convinced me to put my pen to paper and stick with it. If not for that one thing, that thing that gave me my "ah-ha!" moment, I'm not sure The House on the Corner would ever have been written. For that reason alone, Gaiman is important to me.
More specifically, though, and I talk about this more extensively in the author's note for "Part Five: The Police Car," Gaiman's character, Corinthian, was one of the primary sources of inspiration for The Man with No Eyes. When I got to the point that I needed a villain for Tib, I sat down (figuratively speaking, since I'm sure I was already sitting) and went mentally through the images that have most freaked me out in my life. The Corinthian is one of those images. So Shadow Spinner was directly influenced by Gaiman and his work.
All of that to say, when I found out that Neil was actually coming to my little town on his Ocean tour (the last signing tour he says he's ever going to do), I was very excited. In my normally subdued way. Meaning, you'd never be able to tell. Sometimes, that particular attribute of mine frustrates my wife. I'm sure it's related to why caffeine doesn't affect me. Or alcohol, apparently. The fact that I don't ever even get tipsy also frustrates my wife. Anyway...
I went to see Neil Gaiman. He read a bit from The Ocean at The End of the Lane, he answered questions, he read a bit from Fortunately, the Milk (which is not yet out), and, then, he spent the next four hours or so signing autographs. I know, because I was in the last batch of people.
By the way, Shirley MacLaine once pulled his hair. That was a funny story. And Gaiman thinks that everyone should have a hobby that could kill them. His is keeping bees. I'm not sure I quite agree with that, the killing potential of your hobby, but I think it's cool that he keeps bees. I like having bees around, especially when there are enough of them that you can hear their buzz in the trees. Or rosebushes. Or whatever. But I'm not thinking I'm going to take up skydiving or bungee jumping or, even, bee keeping, at the moment.
Yes, Mr. Gaiman was as entertaining as you might imagine. His stories were funny as were his answers, including the one to the question of whether he wears a hair piece, to which he responded with something along the lines of, "If I wore a hair piece, it wouldn't look like this." He was also polite and gracious, even at 12:30am, after he'd been signing for all of those many hours.
Other than The Ocean at The End of the Lane, I got my (1st Edition) copy of The Graveyard Book signed for my son. Neil drew a cute, little picture for him:
And I got the first two issues of The Sandman signed.
No, I did not go out and buy them special for this event, as I was asked by more than one person; I've owned those copies since they were the price on the cover. [I wanted to get my platinum edition of Death: The High Cost of Living #1 signed, but I'm not really sure what box it's in, and, once I had my Sandman issues, I figured that was good enough.]
The other thing I did was hand a copy, signed to Neil, of Shadow Spinner to him, which may be presumptuous, but I did lead off with, "...this is not a request for you to read this." Which it wasn't. Not that I would be upset if he reads it, but who knows if he will ever pick the book up again. What I did want to do is give him something back that would not exist if not for him. The House on the Corner might also not exist, but, maybe, it would; I don't know. Spinner, at least as it is, would not. So I thanked him for his stories and the stories they inspire and gave him the book.
He looked a bit surprised and, then, genuinely thankful. He began to look at it, but someone came and took it away from him and put it in a box with all of the other things he'd been given during the evening, none of which were books. Then, he shook my hand very firmly while looking me in the eyes and told me "Thank you." It was... nice. But, yes, I have washed my hands since then.
So there you go. Neil Gaiman owns his very own copy of Shadow Spinner with his name in it and everything. Not that he couldn't just write his name in it if he wanted to, but... well, I'm sure you get it. At any rate, it's nice to get the chance to say "thank you" and show your appreciation to someone that has meant a lot to you, so, even if it was presumptuous, I took my opportunity to show my appreciation.
And, well, at the least, I hope he loves Rusty's cover, because it's awesome.
Well, give me a moment, and I'll get there.
Gaiman has, perhaps, been more influential on me as a writer than anyone else, but it's not his writing that did it. Which is not to say that it wasn't something he wrote; it just wasn't any of his stories. As I mentioned waaay back in my post 400 Words, it was something Gaiman said about Terry Pratchett that finally convinced me to put my pen to paper and stick with it. If not for that one thing, that thing that gave me my "ah-ha!" moment, I'm not sure The House on the Corner would ever have been written. For that reason alone, Gaiman is important to me.
More specifically, though, and I talk about this more extensively in the author's note for "Part Five: The Police Car," Gaiman's character, Corinthian, was one of the primary sources of inspiration for The Man with No Eyes. When I got to the point that I needed a villain for Tib, I sat down (figuratively speaking, since I'm sure I was already sitting) and went mentally through the images that have most freaked me out in my life. The Corinthian is one of those images. So Shadow Spinner was directly influenced by Gaiman and his work.
All of that to say, when I found out that Neil was actually coming to my little town on his Ocean tour (the last signing tour he says he's ever going to do), I was very excited. In my normally subdued way. Meaning, you'd never be able to tell. Sometimes, that particular attribute of mine frustrates my wife. I'm sure it's related to why caffeine doesn't affect me. Or alcohol, apparently. The fact that I don't ever even get tipsy also frustrates my wife. Anyway...
I went to see Neil Gaiman. He read a bit from The Ocean at The End of the Lane, he answered questions, he read a bit from Fortunately, the Milk (which is not yet out), and, then, he spent the next four hours or so signing autographs. I know, because I was in the last batch of people.
By the way, Shirley MacLaine once pulled his hair. That was a funny story. And Gaiman thinks that everyone should have a hobby that could kill them. His is keeping bees. I'm not sure I quite agree with that, the killing potential of your hobby, but I think it's cool that he keeps bees. I like having bees around, especially when there are enough of them that you can hear their buzz in the trees. Or rosebushes. Or whatever. But I'm not thinking I'm going to take up skydiving or bungee jumping or, even, bee keeping, at the moment.
Yes, Mr. Gaiman was as entertaining as you might imagine. His stories were funny as were his answers, including the one to the question of whether he wears a hair piece, to which he responded with something along the lines of, "If I wore a hair piece, it wouldn't look like this." He was also polite and gracious, even at 12:30am, after he'd been signing for all of those many hours.
Other than The Ocean at The End of the Lane, I got my (1st Edition) copy of The Graveyard Book signed for my son. Neil drew a cute, little picture for him:
The other thing I did was hand a copy, signed to Neil, of Shadow Spinner to him, which may be presumptuous, but I did lead off with, "...this is not a request for you to read this." Which it wasn't. Not that I would be upset if he reads it, but who knows if he will ever pick the book up again. What I did want to do is give him something back that would not exist if not for him. The House on the Corner might also not exist, but, maybe, it would; I don't know. Spinner, at least as it is, would not. So I thanked him for his stories and the stories they inspire and gave him the book.
He looked a bit surprised and, then, genuinely thankful. He began to look at it, but someone came and took it away from him and put it in a box with all of the other things he'd been given during the evening, none of which were books. Then, he shook my hand very firmly while looking me in the eyes and told me "Thank you." It was... nice. But, yes, I have washed my hands since then.
So there you go. Neil Gaiman owns his very own copy of Shadow Spinner with his name in it and everything. Not that he couldn't just write his name in it if he wanted to, but... well, I'm sure you get it. At any rate, it's nice to get the chance to say "thank you" and show your appreciation to someone that has meant a lot to you, so, even if it was presumptuous, I took my opportunity to show my appreciation.
And, well, at the least, I hope he loves Rusty's cover, because it's awesome.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Comic Shop Girls
Way back a long, long time ago, a girl in a comic shop was... I can't even say it was rare, because it just didn't happen. I mean, it was almost the equivalent of a sign of an impending apocalypse. And, if you believe in apocalypses (apocalypsi?) the way Joss Whedon does, maybe they were signs of various impending dooms all headed off by some special group or another. At any rate, it just didn't happen. I didn't know a single girl that read anything beyond Archie comics (or the equivalent) until my mid-twenties, like almost two decades ago.
Let me make it clear that I had had pretty extensive experience in and around the comic's industry by that point. I started collecting comic books during middle school. All the way through the end of high school, I never once saw a girl in the shop I bought comics at except for the one time I took one with me, and, although she agreed to go, it was more out of boredom than anything else, because her other option was to hang out at our church alone (not alone, alone; there were adults there, but there were no other teenagers). During college, I worked in a comic shop, and we had no female customers. At all. Ever. The only girl that ever came in was the girlfriend of one of my friends and only because he always trapped her into it. Then, I had my own comic business and worked in another shop, and neither place had any female customers.
The last shop I worked in in Shreveport (while also running a kind of sub-business under that shop (yeah, it was complicated, but it increased the owner's circulation, so he was good with it)) had a total of two female-type people that came in with any regularity. One of them was a girlfriend of a guy that had been one of my students (this was my last year in Shreveport, and I wasn't teaching at the time), and she always looked like she'd rather be at the dentist, especially since one of the other employees, Mark, would always try to hit on her while her boyfriend was busy talking comics. Yes, I do say that he tried hitting on her, because he never actually quite succeeded. He just made her uncomfortable and followed her around the shop as she tried to avoid him. The other was an "older" woman (to us) around 50(?) that actually played Magic and came in for tournaments. She sort of creeped everyone out, especially since she often "went home" with Boogie (and, yes, he had earned that nickname), and, if you can't figure out that euphemism, there may be no hope for you. That was it...
Until The Day...
It was a Wednesday, and I was shelving the new comics for the week (I was in charge of comics and CCG stuff), and a girl walked in. Alone. Not a mom (okay, she was a mom (of a not-quite toddler), but she wasn't a mom looking for a gift), not a girlfriend, just a girl walking into the comic shop. Alone. I took note of her, but I was busy, and I kept doing what I was doing. However, one-by-one, every other guy that worked in the shop made his way over to her and asked her if she needed any help. Every one of them: Mark, Rick, Scott, Tony. She turned each of them down, browsing through the comics until she made her way over to me and asked me if I could help her. Hmm... and that's a story for another time. Anyway, her ex-boyfriend (the father of her child) had been into comics, and she's picked through them occasionally, so she was looking for some suggestions about comics that she could get into. After listening to the types of she was into, I suggested The Sandman and Strangers in Paradise. She became our first (and only) weekly female customer, coming in to see what new comics were in and trying things out every now and then.
Flash forward to last week. I was sitting in the local comic shop (editing and reading) waiting for a Magic tournament to start up. At one point, I glanced around the room and noted the number of -- hmm... my wife doesn't like it when I call them "girls," although I'm certain some of them must have still been in high school -- young ladies that were hanging out in the store. I mean, hanging out on their own because they wanted to be there. There was one that was definitely a girlfriend, but the other more-than-half-dozen were obviously there because they wanted to be there. Some were playing Magic, one was browsing the comics, there was even grandmotherly type that was obviously looking at things for herself rather than looking for a gift (yeah, you can tell the difference when you've been in the environment). I was struck by the difference a couple of decades had made. Sure, it was still 80-90% guys, but, two decades ago, it would have been 100% guys.
I mentioned it to my wife, and she noted to me that there are a lot of guys that are against girls being in this kind of environment. It's like some group of 10-year-olds with a clubhouse and big "no girls allowed" signs stuck all over it. No girls in comics. No girls in gaming. Of any kind. Evidently, girls shouldn't play Magic and the certainly shouldn't play video games. According to these guys.
Which brought up the whole SFWA thing that happened a couple of weeks ago where a group of male sci-fi writers was proclaiming how writing science fiction is no place for women.
And I just don't get it. I mean, I really don't get it.
Maybe, this is me thinking as a retailer (from back when I did that), but the goal, then, was always to try and figure out how to open the doors of comic books to girls. It was an ongoing thing with Marvel (and other companies, but Marvel talked about it the most) in the late 80s through the mid-90s: How do we get girls interested in comics? And I was all for that, because, well, more business. So this idea that girls don't belong there is really puzzling to me.
And, well, my favorite sci-fi book was written by a woman: The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell. And you can't discount The Doomsday Book, a more than excellent sci-fi novel also written by a woman: Connie Willis. I'm sure I could go on, but I don't think there's a need.
At any rate, the idea that some of these things are "boys' clubs" just doesn't make sense to me. Why would that be so? I never had a "no girls allowed" clubhouse as a boy; maybe, that's because one of my main playmates as a kid was a female cousin; I don't know. One of my best friends was also a girl; we started kindergarten together and went all the way through to the end of high school, the only person I did that with, and we're still friends, today (well, you know, the kind of friend that only speak to each other every few years, because you don't live anywhere near the other person, but, still...).
And, well, despite the fact that I did a lot of what were pretty exclusively "guy" things when I was younger (like comic books and gaming), I would never have even thought that girls shouldn't be there, because, hello, I spent most of time hanging out with guys, and having some girls around would have meant, well, having some girls around.
So I don't get the attitude that women shouldn't be involved in gaming or comic books or science fiction. Or politics or science or math. Or whatever. I'm glad to see that there are girls hanging out in the comic store, and, after my wife told me about all of the hate that women get online about that kind of stuff, I'm glad to see that the dudes in the store seemed totally at ease with the fact that there were girls. I mean, there weren't lines of guys trying to hit on them or pick them up. They were just part of the environment, like everyone else. Maybe, there is some hope for the future.
I hope...
Let me make it clear that I had had pretty extensive experience in and around the comic's industry by that point. I started collecting comic books during middle school. All the way through the end of high school, I never once saw a girl in the shop I bought comics at except for the one time I took one with me, and, although she agreed to go, it was more out of boredom than anything else, because her other option was to hang out at our church alone (not alone, alone; there were adults there, but there were no other teenagers). During college, I worked in a comic shop, and we had no female customers. At all. Ever. The only girl that ever came in was the girlfriend of one of my friends and only because he always trapped her into it. Then, I had my own comic business and worked in another shop, and neither place had any female customers.
The last shop I worked in in Shreveport (while also running a kind of sub-business under that shop (yeah, it was complicated, but it increased the owner's circulation, so he was good with it)) had a total of two female-type people that came in with any regularity. One of them was a girlfriend of a guy that had been one of my students (this was my last year in Shreveport, and I wasn't teaching at the time), and she always looked like she'd rather be at the dentist, especially since one of the other employees, Mark, would always try to hit on her while her boyfriend was busy talking comics. Yes, I do say that he tried hitting on her, because he never actually quite succeeded. He just made her uncomfortable and followed her around the shop as she tried to avoid him. The other was an "older" woman (to us) around 50(?) that actually played Magic and came in for tournaments. She sort of creeped everyone out, especially since she often "went home" with Boogie (and, yes, he had earned that nickname), and, if you can't figure out that euphemism, there may be no hope for you. That was it...
Until The Day...
It was a Wednesday, and I was shelving the new comics for the week (I was in charge of comics and CCG stuff), and a girl walked in. Alone. Not a mom (okay, she was a mom (of a not-quite toddler), but she wasn't a mom looking for a gift), not a girlfriend, just a girl walking into the comic shop. Alone. I took note of her, but I was busy, and I kept doing what I was doing. However, one-by-one, every other guy that worked in the shop made his way over to her and asked her if she needed any help. Every one of them: Mark, Rick, Scott, Tony. She turned each of them down, browsing through the comics until she made her way over to me and asked me if I could help her. Hmm... and that's a story for another time. Anyway, her ex-boyfriend (the father of her child) had been into comics, and she's picked through them occasionally, so she was looking for some suggestions about comics that she could get into. After listening to the types of she was into, I suggested The Sandman and Strangers in Paradise. She became our first (and only) weekly female customer, coming in to see what new comics were in and trying things out every now and then.
Flash forward to last week. I was sitting in the local comic shop (editing and reading) waiting for a Magic tournament to start up. At one point, I glanced around the room and noted the number of -- hmm... my wife doesn't like it when I call them "girls," although I'm certain some of them must have still been in high school -- young ladies that were hanging out in the store. I mean, hanging out on their own because they wanted to be there. There was one that was definitely a girlfriend, but the other more-than-half-dozen were obviously there because they wanted to be there. Some were playing Magic, one was browsing the comics, there was even grandmotherly type that was obviously looking at things for herself rather than looking for a gift (yeah, you can tell the difference when you've been in the environment). I was struck by the difference a couple of decades had made. Sure, it was still 80-90% guys, but, two decades ago, it would have been 100% guys.
I mentioned it to my wife, and she noted to me that there are a lot of guys that are against girls being in this kind of environment. It's like some group of 10-year-olds with a clubhouse and big "no girls allowed" signs stuck all over it. No girls in comics. No girls in gaming. Of any kind. Evidently, girls shouldn't play Magic and the certainly shouldn't play video games. According to these guys.
Which brought up the whole SFWA thing that happened a couple of weeks ago where a group of male sci-fi writers was proclaiming how writing science fiction is no place for women.
And I just don't get it. I mean, I really don't get it.
Maybe, this is me thinking as a retailer (from back when I did that), but the goal, then, was always to try and figure out how to open the doors of comic books to girls. It was an ongoing thing with Marvel (and other companies, but Marvel talked about it the most) in the late 80s through the mid-90s: How do we get girls interested in comics? And I was all for that, because, well, more business. So this idea that girls don't belong there is really puzzling to me.
And, well, my favorite sci-fi book was written by a woman: The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell. And you can't discount The Doomsday Book, a more than excellent sci-fi novel also written by a woman: Connie Willis. I'm sure I could go on, but I don't think there's a need.
At any rate, the idea that some of these things are "boys' clubs" just doesn't make sense to me. Why would that be so? I never had a "no girls allowed" clubhouse as a boy; maybe, that's because one of my main playmates as a kid was a female cousin; I don't know. One of my best friends was also a girl; we started kindergarten together and went all the way through to the end of high school, the only person I did that with, and we're still friends, today (well, you know, the kind of friend that only speak to each other every few years, because you don't live anywhere near the other person, but, still...).
And, well, despite the fact that I did a lot of what were pretty exclusively "guy" things when I was younger (like comic books and gaming), I would never have even thought that girls shouldn't be there, because, hello, I spent most of time hanging out with guys, and having some girls around would have meant, well, having some girls around.
So I don't get the attitude that women shouldn't be involved in gaming or comic books or science fiction. Or politics or science or math. Or whatever. I'm glad to see that there are girls hanging out in the comic store, and, after my wife told me about all of the hate that women get online about that kind of stuff, I'm glad to see that the dudes in the store seemed totally at ease with the fact that there were girls. I mean, there weren't lines of guys trying to hit on them or pick them up. They were just part of the environment, like everyone else. Maybe, there is some hope for the future.
I hope...
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Getting the Wrong Message
We live in an age of t-shirts. They're like membership badges. You wear a shirt, and people comment on it, and it let's you know whether or not they're in your club. Unsurprisingly, I have several Star Wars t-shirts. I used to have a lot more, but most of them have been retired. Okay, so, yeah, I still have them; I just don't wear them anymore, because an awful lot of them are 20 years old and not really fit for wearing anymore. A have a couple of Sandman t-shirts, I have Animaniacs and "Pinky and the Brain" t-shirts, and I have this t-shirt:
(I also have a lot of other comic book related shirts, but I don't really have time to list all the shirts I have!)
I imagine that emblem is familiar to most of you out there, but, surprisingly, it's one of the least recognized shirts I have. It's also one of the most commented on shirts I have. Whedon fans will almost always say something, but, frequently, people who don't know anything about Firefly will say something like, "Nice message. We could all use more serenity." I just sort of nod and grin and say, "Yeah, we could," while thinking something like "if you only knew."
When I was in college, I was in this writing group. A lot of (pretentious) poetry was batted around during the meetings. One of the rules was that you were not allowed to claim your own work. We were also encouraged to comment on our own work so that no one would know it was ours by our silence. Non-committally comment, of course. That was hard for a lot of people, so most everyone just sat silently when one of their pieces was being read and commented on.
One night, there was a particular poem that was read. I don't remember what it was about, but, evidently, no one was getting it. The author of the poem was trying to restrain himself, but I could tell he was getting frustrated, and he was really fighting with himself to keep from blurting out how wrong everyone was. Including the professors. One professor in particular. Awkwardly enough, I was the one that caused him to explode, but it was because I got it right. I gave my interpretation, and he slapped the table, jumped up, and pointed at me yelling "Yes! Finally! Someone gets it!"
I felt kind of bad. Bad in that it was my fault he lost his cool. It was kind of weird that he lost it over his message getting through when he'd managed to hold it together through everyone getting the "wrong" message. But that's kind of the point: there is no "wrong" message. There is a failure to communicate the intended message, but it's hard to say that a message pulled from a reading is wrong. Unless, of course, you're Barney Stinson rooting for the bully in The Karate Kid. Barney just gets it wrong, but it's not like that for most of us.
No, most of us carry away a valid message even if it isn't quite the one the author intended, and you know what? That's okay. None of the people giving the "wrong" interpretation of the poem that night had messed anything up; they just didn't quite understand the point the author was trying to make. That doesn't mean those other points weren't there, because we weave into our writing things we have no idea are there until someone else points them out to us. And that's okay, too. That's why other people can see things about us that we can't always see, and it's why we can learn about ourselves through other people and the way other people read what we've written.
You know what else? I don't think Joss would be upset about people coming away with a message of serenity because if the t-shirt based on his movie. I think he'd say, "That's okay."
I imagine that emblem is familiar to most of you out there, but, surprisingly, it's one of the least recognized shirts I have. It's also one of the most commented on shirts I have. Whedon fans will almost always say something, but, frequently, people who don't know anything about Firefly will say something like, "Nice message. We could all use more serenity." I just sort of nod and grin and say, "Yeah, we could," while thinking something like "if you only knew."
When I was in college, I was in this writing group. A lot of (pretentious) poetry was batted around during the meetings. One of the rules was that you were not allowed to claim your own work. We were also encouraged to comment on our own work so that no one would know it was ours by our silence. Non-committally comment, of course. That was hard for a lot of people, so most everyone just sat silently when one of their pieces was being read and commented on.
One night, there was a particular poem that was read. I don't remember what it was about, but, evidently, no one was getting it. The author of the poem was trying to restrain himself, but I could tell he was getting frustrated, and he was really fighting with himself to keep from blurting out how wrong everyone was. Including the professors. One professor in particular. Awkwardly enough, I was the one that caused him to explode, but it was because I got it right. I gave my interpretation, and he slapped the table, jumped up, and pointed at me yelling "Yes! Finally! Someone gets it!"
I felt kind of bad. Bad in that it was my fault he lost his cool. It was kind of weird that he lost it over his message getting through when he'd managed to hold it together through everyone getting the "wrong" message. But that's kind of the point: there is no "wrong" message. There is a failure to communicate the intended message, but it's hard to say that a message pulled from a reading is wrong. Unless, of course, you're Barney Stinson rooting for the bully in The Karate Kid. Barney just gets it wrong, but it's not like that for most of us.
No, most of us carry away a valid message even if it isn't quite the one the author intended, and you know what? That's okay. None of the people giving the "wrong" interpretation of the poem that night had messed anything up; they just didn't quite understand the point the author was trying to make. That doesn't mean those other points weren't there, because we weave into our writing things we have no idea are there until someone else points them out to us. And that's okay, too. That's why other people can see things about us that we can't always see, and it's why we can learn about ourselves through other people and the way other people read what we've written.
You know what else? I don't think Joss would be upset about people coming away with a message of serenity because if the t-shirt based on his movie. I think he'd say, "That's okay."
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
A Game of Shadows & Stardust
Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows
First, let me just say, I love the subtitle. I tend to be fond of subtitles, but A Game of Shadows is a great title or subtitle. I wish I'd thought of it. [Because, if I had, I might would use that for my Tib stories, which are still untitled.]
Second, I'm a big fan of Sherlock Holmes. I've read (and own) all of the Holmes stories, so, when I say I like Holmes, it's not just some vague notion of Holmes formed when I was a kid from watching movies and television shows about Sherlock.
Having said that, Guy Ritchie has done an excellent job of adapting the stories into movie format. There have, of course, been some changes (like with Sherlock's fastidiousness), but, overall, he kept all the fundamentals of Holmes and has made a faithful adaptation rather than just making some detective story and calling the character Sherlock as in many of the previous incarnations of Holmes.
Of course, the acting by Robert Downey, Jr. is superb. Looking at these movies through a James Bond lens, I would say that Downey is the Sean Connery of Sherlock Holmes. He's more rugged and less refined. More of a brawler than a fencer, which, actually, also holds true to the character; although, I'd be interested in seeing someone do a Roger Moore version who is more of the gentleman and fencer. This also falls within the realm of Holmes. Okay, so, maybe Pierce Brosnan for those of you out there hating on Roger (but I grew up with Moore Bond films, and I love them most). However, I can't actually think of anyone that would be better at Holmes than Downey has been.
Add Jude Law to that, and you have a pretty perfect team. I'm not a huge Jude Law fan. Not that I dislike him, but I think he often comes off the same from movie to movie. However, I think he's been the perfect pairing for Downey in these movies. Their combination is... well, they make an excellent team.
I've heard a lot of mutterings about how this one wasn't as good as the first, but I don't know that I can agree with that. Sure, they've removed the romantic element (and I was sorry to see Rachel McAdams go), but, really, the romantic element is not exactly appropriate as an ongoing thing in Sherlock Holmes. In almost all ways, Holmes is above romance. Adler was the only woman Holmes was ever interested in even remotely and that was because she bested him. They do add the tension of Watson's wife to the mix, and I think that serves adequately as a substitute for any romance for Holmes. His romance is with "the game."
Jared Harris was an excellent choice for Moriarty. He's not someone I would have thought of, but he was great. Quiet and under spoken, rather like a spider. He was quite chilling.
If you saw the first Holmes with Downey and liked it, this one is definitely worth seeing. For those of you that haven't read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, be aware that many of the smaller details are actually from the stories and not just inventions for the movies. Those kinds of things being included made these movies a very enjoyable experience for me. If you haven't read Doyle, you should.
But don't spend a lot of time looking for Moriarty. He's really only in two of the stories and was an invention by Doyle to provide an adequate nemesis for Holmes in order to kill him off. Which he did. And, then, brought him back later because of public demand. See that thing with bowing to public pressure in writing goes back a long way.
Stardust
Stardust is another excellent title, but, then, Neil Gaiman tends to come up with some pretty excellent titles. Neverwhere and The Graveyard Book come to mind.
As I've stated previously, I've been a fan of Gaiman for quite a while. For much longer than he's been writing novels. I was introduced to The Sandman fairly early on (definitely before 1990) and often described Gaiman to friends as the best writer in comics (as opposed to Peter David (who also wrote novels) whom I described as the best writer of comic books writing novels)). I waited a long time for Gaiman to get around to the whole novel thing. And, then, sort of missed out on some because I was busy having kids. Good Omens is one of my favorite books, and I caught it right away, but Stardust and Neverwhere slipped past me, and I'm only now catching up.
But I loved the movie! Stardust is a beautiful movie, and I've been wanting to watch it again for quite a while (but it's buried in a box in the closet that still needs to be unpacked). Reading the book, finally, has only heightened that desire.
The problem here is that the movie and the book are not exactly the same thing. Rather like with Coraline. I really enjoyed reading Stardust, but I loved the movie. The book is less streamlined. It has a lot of fairy tale type elements in it, like people showing up to help at just the right moment. But, then, it is set in fairy land, so I'm sure those things are that way on purpose. They do add so amount of whimsy to the plot.
What I like most about the book is that it is unconventional in telling its love story, which is, also, unconventional. The movie makes it more of the kind of love story we expect from a movie, but the book, although containing the same love story, approaches it completely differently and doesn't really provide a happy ending. Not that it's not happy... well, you'd just have to read it to understand, because I'm not giving that away.
At any rate, if you like Gaiman, Stardust is definitely worth a read. I don't think it's as good as what he's been putting out more recently, but the same elements are there, and it's a good story with interesting characters. Be warned, though, if you're a fan of the movie, it's not quite the same.
First, let me just say, I love the subtitle. I tend to be fond of subtitles, but A Game of Shadows is a great title or subtitle. I wish I'd thought of it. [Because, if I had, I might would use that for my Tib stories, which are still untitled.]
Second, I'm a big fan of Sherlock Holmes. I've read (and own) all of the Holmes stories, so, when I say I like Holmes, it's not just some vague notion of Holmes formed when I was a kid from watching movies and television shows about Sherlock.
Having said that, Guy Ritchie has done an excellent job of adapting the stories into movie format. There have, of course, been some changes (like with Sherlock's fastidiousness), but, overall, he kept all the fundamentals of Holmes and has made a faithful adaptation rather than just making some detective story and calling the character Sherlock as in many of the previous incarnations of Holmes.
Of course, the acting by Robert Downey, Jr. is superb. Looking at these movies through a James Bond lens, I would say that Downey is the Sean Connery of Sherlock Holmes. He's more rugged and less refined. More of a brawler than a fencer, which, actually, also holds true to the character; although, I'd be interested in seeing someone do a Roger Moore version who is more of the gentleman and fencer. This also falls within the realm of Holmes. Okay, so, maybe Pierce Brosnan for those of you out there hating on Roger (but I grew up with Moore Bond films, and I love them most). However, I can't actually think of anyone that would be better at Holmes than Downey has been.
Add Jude Law to that, and you have a pretty perfect team. I'm not a huge Jude Law fan. Not that I dislike him, but I think he often comes off the same from movie to movie. However, I think he's been the perfect pairing for Downey in these movies. Their combination is... well, they make an excellent team.
I've heard a lot of mutterings about how this one wasn't as good as the first, but I don't know that I can agree with that. Sure, they've removed the romantic element (and I was sorry to see Rachel McAdams go), but, really, the romantic element is not exactly appropriate as an ongoing thing in Sherlock Holmes. In almost all ways, Holmes is above romance. Adler was the only woman Holmes was ever interested in even remotely and that was because she bested him. They do add the tension of Watson's wife to the mix, and I think that serves adequately as a substitute for any romance for Holmes. His romance is with "the game."
Jared Harris was an excellent choice for Moriarty. He's not someone I would have thought of, but he was great. Quiet and under spoken, rather like a spider. He was quite chilling.
If you saw the first Holmes with Downey and liked it, this one is definitely worth seeing. For those of you that haven't read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, be aware that many of the smaller details are actually from the stories and not just inventions for the movies. Those kinds of things being included made these movies a very enjoyable experience for me. If you haven't read Doyle, you should.
But don't spend a lot of time looking for Moriarty. He's really only in two of the stories and was an invention by Doyle to provide an adequate nemesis for Holmes in order to kill him off. Which he did. And, then, brought him back later because of public demand. See that thing with bowing to public pressure in writing goes back a long way.
Stardust
Stardust is another excellent title, but, then, Neil Gaiman tends to come up with some pretty excellent titles. Neverwhere and The Graveyard Book come to mind.
As I've stated previously, I've been a fan of Gaiman for quite a while. For much longer than he's been writing novels. I was introduced to The Sandman fairly early on (definitely before 1990) and often described Gaiman to friends as the best writer in comics (as opposed to Peter David (who also wrote novels) whom I described as the best writer of comic books writing novels)). I waited a long time for Gaiman to get around to the whole novel thing. And, then, sort of missed out on some because I was busy having kids. Good Omens is one of my favorite books, and I caught it right away, but Stardust and Neverwhere slipped past me, and I'm only now catching up.
But I loved the movie! Stardust is a beautiful movie, and I've been wanting to watch it again for quite a while (but it's buried in a box in the closet that still needs to be unpacked). Reading the book, finally, has only heightened that desire.
The problem here is that the movie and the book are not exactly the same thing. Rather like with Coraline. I really enjoyed reading Stardust, but I loved the movie. The book is less streamlined. It has a lot of fairy tale type elements in it, like people showing up to help at just the right moment. But, then, it is set in fairy land, so I'm sure those things are that way on purpose. They do add so amount of whimsy to the plot.
What I like most about the book is that it is unconventional in telling its love story, which is, also, unconventional. The movie makes it more of the kind of love story we expect from a movie, but the book, although containing the same love story, approaches it completely differently and doesn't really provide a happy ending. Not that it's not happy... well, you'd just have to read it to understand, because I'm not giving that away.
At any rate, if you like Gaiman, Stardust is definitely worth a read. I don't think it's as good as what he's been putting out more recently, but the same elements are there, and it's a good story with interesting characters. Be warned, though, if you're a fan of the movie, it's not quite the same.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Quilter or Weaver?
"I think, writing-wise, I am probably more of a quilter than a weaver because I just get a little scrap here and a little scrap there and sew them together." -- Rich Mullins
Rich Mullins was a man that I admired very much. He was one of the greatest song writers most of you have probably never heard of. His song "Awesome God," was voted the greatest Christian song of the 20th century, and some consider it the greatest Christian song ever written. The thing that really set him apart, though, as a person, was that he really lived what he believed. I mean really lived it.
-At an awards ceremony where he was to receive a prestigious award, he took up a position in the serving line for the dinner that was being served and helped to serve the food. He did not call attention to himself while doing this, and most people failed to recognize him, thinking he was just part of the staff.
-Instead of living the life of a big time singer and song writer, he set up a trust that all of his money went into. He received only the average amount that a single man would make in a year as his salary. He lived in a trailer house on a reservation in New Mexico where he taught music to children (for free). The rest of his money went to charity.
-He said this at a concert not long before his death in 1997, "Jesus said whatever you do to the least of these my brothers you’ve done it to me. And this is what I’ve come to think. That if I want to identify fully with Jesus Christ, who I claim to be my Savior and Lord, the best way that I can do that is to identify with the poor. This I know will go against the teachings of all the popular evangelical preachers. But they’re just wrong. They’re not bad, they’re just wrong. Christianity is not about building an absolutely secure little niche in the world where you can live with your perfect little wife and your perfect little children in a beautiful little house where you have no gays or minority groups anywhere near you. Christianity is about learning to love like Jesus loved and Jesus loved the poor and Jesus loved the broken..."
I could go on, but I'm not really here to talk about Mullins. I just wanted to give you some background on the person I'm quoting so that, maybe, you can understand why it's important to me.
I have often thought about his quote about writing. He was one of those people that would be inspired to write a few lines about something and that would be all he would have. Often, these were written on some scrap of paper he had handy. He saved all of these. I imagine that many, probably most, of these little fragments of verse that he wrote went completely unused. However, there would be times when he would become inspired to combine these fragments he collected into a song. As he puts it, he quilted.
In thinking of my poetry, I can completely relate to this. I have fragments of verse scattered... well, I'm not even sure where all I have them scattered. Somewhere, in storage, I have all of my notebooks from high school and college with snippets of things I've written. Someday, I'll find these and go through them, and, maybe, some of them will inspire new things or new combinations, and I will quilt something from them. Possibly joined with some of the things I have in the notebook by my computer or in the file on my computer. Fragments of verse.
My prose, on the other hand, possibly tends more toward the weaving. But I'm not sure. I think I have so many ideas and themes from other places in The House on the Corner that it may be just an elaborate quilt. In fact, I sort of intended it that way, since I modeled it on the imaginations of children. So there are bits of things I took from other places stuck here and there throughout the book all sewn together with my own thread. My big project, though, the one that is still just mostly in my head, is definitely a weaving.
Tolkien, he was a weaver. A grand and glorious weaver. I don't think many people can do what he did. If they could, there would be more of it. Lewis was also a bit of a weaver. Not to the extent of Tolkien, though. Except that he said he was largely inspired by George MacDonald and games he played with his brother when he was a kid. There's Gaiman, but he says that Dream (from The Sandman) is based on his image of Moorcock's Elric. Maybe it's like Tolkien said and all of these things spring like mushrooms from the detritus of childhood and life. After all, Beowulf was a huge influence on Tolkien, and it's sprinkled throughout Middle Earth. Maybe, in the end, it's all just quilting.
Culturally, we tend to have a dim view of quilters. People who take scraps from other works and sew them together into something different. But, really, is that a bad thing? Sure, sometimes, the quilts aren't very good. We can see where the pieces came from and see that the original was better. But then there are the times where we can see what the scrap came from and see how the quilter took something from a work that was not very good and made it better. And, sometimes, the quilter is so good that you can no longer pick out from where the original pieces came.
Really, there are just too many books to sort who's weaving what and who's quilting from whose work. Maybe it's not even important. Not many people can come up with something completely new. Weave something original. As Bono says, "Every artist is a thief." Maybe we would be better at we do if we would just embrace ourselves as quilters and do the very best job of that that we can do. Take the pieces and make new pictures with them. Like a kaleidoscope but with words and themes and ideas.
Not that we should give up on the weaving, but Tolkien spent his whole life in Middle Earth. Those stories began in the trenches during World War I, and he was still working on them when he died in 1973. That's a long time to spend in the same place, and, in the end, many people believe Middle Earth was more real to him than the real world. But why shouldn't it have been? He made it. Most of us, though, aren't going to aspire to something like what he made. Which is not to say that we can't do a bit of our own weaving. It just probably won't end up being a tapestry as elaborate as Tolkien's.
Anyway...
I'm not sure, exactly, what I'm getting at here. I think it's actually more about the question than the answer. I mean, I've been thinking about this question on and off for over a decade and still don't have an answer for it. I do know it's important to know what you're borrowing. No, let's be honest, stealing. But it's okay to steal. That's what art's all about. Making new things from the old. Or, if you're one of those lucky few that does have a completely original idea, like Gibson with Neuromancer (Although, if you take the time to look, you'll see that it wasn't so original, after all... at least, the pieces weren't. It's what he did with them.), count yourself fortunate and weave away.
I suppose what it comes down to is being skillful at whatever you're doing. Quilting. Weaving. Whatever you want to call it. Do it well, and make it yours.
Let me just leave you some of my favorite quilted lines from some songs by Rich Mullins:
from "If I Stand":
And there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiments
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
from "Home":
And now the night is fading and the storm is past
And everything that could be shaken was shaken
And all that remains is all I ever really had
from "Calling Out Your Name":
Well the moon moved past Nebraska
And spilled laughter on them cold Dakota Hills
And there's fury in a pheasant's wings
From the place where morning gathers
You can look sometimes forever 'til you see
What time may never know
from "Peace":
...may peace rain down from Heaven
Like little pieces of the sky
from "We Are Not As Strong As We Think We Are"
We are frail, we are fearfully and wonderfully made
Forged in the fires of human passion
Choking on the fumes of selfish rage
And with these our hells and our heavens
So few inches apart
We must be awfully small
And not as strong as we think we are
When you love you walk on the water
Just don't stumble on the waves
Rich Mullins was a man that I admired very much. He was one of the greatest song writers most of you have probably never heard of. His song "Awesome God," was voted the greatest Christian song of the 20th century, and some consider it the greatest Christian song ever written. The thing that really set him apart, though, as a person, was that he really lived what he believed. I mean really lived it.
-At an awards ceremony where he was to receive a prestigious award, he took up a position in the serving line for the dinner that was being served and helped to serve the food. He did not call attention to himself while doing this, and most people failed to recognize him, thinking he was just part of the staff.
-Instead of living the life of a big time singer and song writer, he set up a trust that all of his money went into. He received only the average amount that a single man would make in a year as his salary. He lived in a trailer house on a reservation in New Mexico where he taught music to children (for free). The rest of his money went to charity.
-He said this at a concert not long before his death in 1997, "Jesus said whatever you do to the least of these my brothers you’ve done it to me. And this is what I’ve come to think. That if I want to identify fully with Jesus Christ, who I claim to be my Savior and Lord, the best way that I can do that is to identify with the poor. This I know will go against the teachings of all the popular evangelical preachers. But they’re just wrong. They’re not bad, they’re just wrong. Christianity is not about building an absolutely secure little niche in the world where you can live with your perfect little wife and your perfect little children in a beautiful little house where you have no gays or minority groups anywhere near you. Christianity is about learning to love like Jesus loved and Jesus loved the poor and Jesus loved the broken..."
I could go on, but I'm not really here to talk about Mullins. I just wanted to give you some background on the person I'm quoting so that, maybe, you can understand why it's important to me.
I have often thought about his quote about writing. He was one of those people that would be inspired to write a few lines about something and that would be all he would have. Often, these were written on some scrap of paper he had handy. He saved all of these. I imagine that many, probably most, of these little fragments of verse that he wrote went completely unused. However, there would be times when he would become inspired to combine these fragments he collected into a song. As he puts it, he quilted.
In thinking of my poetry, I can completely relate to this. I have fragments of verse scattered... well, I'm not even sure where all I have them scattered. Somewhere, in storage, I have all of my notebooks from high school and college with snippets of things I've written. Someday, I'll find these and go through them, and, maybe, some of them will inspire new things or new combinations, and I will quilt something from them. Possibly joined with some of the things I have in the notebook by my computer or in the file on my computer. Fragments of verse.
My prose, on the other hand, possibly tends more toward the weaving. But I'm not sure. I think I have so many ideas and themes from other places in The House on the Corner that it may be just an elaborate quilt. In fact, I sort of intended it that way, since I modeled it on the imaginations of children. So there are bits of things I took from other places stuck here and there throughout the book all sewn together with my own thread. My big project, though, the one that is still just mostly in my head, is definitely a weaving.
Tolkien, he was a weaver. A grand and glorious weaver. I don't think many people can do what he did. If they could, there would be more of it. Lewis was also a bit of a weaver. Not to the extent of Tolkien, though. Except that he said he was largely inspired by George MacDonald and games he played with his brother when he was a kid. There's Gaiman, but he says that Dream (from The Sandman) is based on his image of Moorcock's Elric. Maybe it's like Tolkien said and all of these things spring like mushrooms from the detritus of childhood and life. After all, Beowulf was a huge influence on Tolkien, and it's sprinkled throughout Middle Earth. Maybe, in the end, it's all just quilting.
Culturally, we tend to have a dim view of quilters. People who take scraps from other works and sew them together into something different. But, really, is that a bad thing? Sure, sometimes, the quilts aren't very good. We can see where the pieces came from and see that the original was better. But then there are the times where we can see what the scrap came from and see how the quilter took something from a work that was not very good and made it better. And, sometimes, the quilter is so good that you can no longer pick out from where the original pieces came.
Really, there are just too many books to sort who's weaving what and who's quilting from whose work. Maybe it's not even important. Not many people can come up with something completely new. Weave something original. As Bono says, "Every artist is a thief." Maybe we would be better at we do if we would just embrace ourselves as quilters and do the very best job of that that we can do. Take the pieces and make new pictures with them. Like a kaleidoscope but with words and themes and ideas.
Not that we should give up on the weaving, but Tolkien spent his whole life in Middle Earth. Those stories began in the trenches during World War I, and he was still working on them when he died in 1973. That's a long time to spend in the same place, and, in the end, many people believe Middle Earth was more real to him than the real world. But why shouldn't it have been? He made it. Most of us, though, aren't going to aspire to something like what he made. Which is not to say that we can't do a bit of our own weaving. It just probably won't end up being a tapestry as elaborate as Tolkien's.
Anyway...
I'm not sure, exactly, what I'm getting at here. I think it's actually more about the question than the answer. I mean, I've been thinking about this question on and off for over a decade and still don't have an answer for it. I do know it's important to know what you're borrowing. No, let's be honest, stealing. But it's okay to steal. That's what art's all about. Making new things from the old. Or, if you're one of those lucky few that does have a completely original idea, like Gibson with Neuromancer (Although, if you take the time to look, you'll see that it wasn't so original, after all... at least, the pieces weren't. It's what he did with them.), count yourself fortunate and weave away.
I suppose what it comes down to is being skillful at whatever you're doing. Quilting. Weaving. Whatever you want to call it. Do it well, and make it yours.
Let me just leave you some of my favorite quilted lines from some songs by Rich Mullins:
from "If I Stand":
And there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiments
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
from "Home":
And now the night is fading and the storm is past
And everything that could be shaken was shaken
And all that remains is all I ever really had
from "Calling Out Your Name":
Well the moon moved past Nebraska
And spilled laughter on them cold Dakota Hills
And there's fury in a pheasant's wings
From the place where morning gathers
You can look sometimes forever 'til you see
What time may never know
from "Peace":
...may peace rain down from Heaven
Like little pieces of the sky
from "We Are Not As Strong As We Think We Are"
We are frail, we are fearfully and wonderfully made
Forged in the fires of human passion
Choking on the fumes of selfish rage
And with these our hells and our heavens
So few inches apart
We must be awfully small
And not as strong as we think we are
When you love you walk on the water
Just don't stumble on the waves
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