I woke up to this song playing on my radio, and thought it was pretty funny:
Who mowed the lawns of Eden? Who kept the garden trim?
Adam never volunteered, I'm sure it wasn't him.
Who pruned all the fruit trees to which Genesis refers?
Did the angel Gabriel have some secateurs?
Who mowed the lawns of Eden? Who kept the garden green?
Eve was not a gardener, and the Cherubs were not keen.
The angels and archangels, they were pretty much the same,
They refused to weed as well as magnify His name.
The Seraphim, they could have helped in several different ways,
But they had all their time used up with singing hymns of praise.
The Heavenly Host was small then, because nobody had died,
But none of them liked digging, even though they'd never tried.
I bet the saints and martyrs would have loved to dig and hoe,
For martyrs up in heaven are the same as here below.
Who mowed the lawns of Eden? Who helped the garden grow?
Who made of it a Paradise? I'll tell you, 'cos I know.
God. He fixed the garden, the first one that he made,
He pruned all the roses, and was handy with his spade.
On Sunday, nice and early He went out to smell the dew.
(There wasn't any Church then, so He'd nothing much to do).
He wandered to the potting-shed, behind the Tree of Life,
And got his spade and trowel out, His fork and pruning knife.
He looked after Eden, and He watched the lilies grow,
And Eden's still a Paradise where gardeners can go.
Who mowed the lawns of Eden? God mowed the lawns and more,
Adam couldn't help Him, for his rib was still quite sore.
The beasts that God created never helped in any way,
The lion lay down with the lamb, bone idle all the day.
God built all the trellises for clematis to climb,
Cut back the wisteria and trained the columbine.
He pruned all the fruit trees: apple, peach and pear,
He had so many jobs to do, you always find Him there.
So if I get to Heaven, I'll just ask Peter if I can
Potter about in Eden, just to help out the Old Man.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Cashew
Here's a story I didn't write for my blog but then remembered I haven't posted anything in a very long time, so decided to share it with you.
Cashew lay silently on her back, gazing up at the shadowed ceiling, wondering why on earth she had been named after a nut. When all of a sudden it dawned on her, as the sun crept through the windows, Cashew realised that she had to make a name for herself. What was the use of having such an off centre name if she wasn’t going to use it to her advantage? So she hopped out of bed, got dressed, brushed her teeth and did all those other routine things that normal people with normal names do in the morning, before stuffing a backpack full of clothes and food and declaring to her mother that she was “going on a wild adventure that no one has ever dreamt of” her mother said “be back in time for supper, dear” and Cashew swung her bag around her shoulders, leaving the house with nothing but excitement on her mind.
Standing outside in the morning air, the long grass under her elf like boots, Cashew came to the conclusion that there was no adventure to be had. She looked across the grassy field, it stretched on as far as she could see. It would be tiring to push through and she doubted it would ever end, but she’d promised herself an adventure and she never broke her word. She adjusted the straps of her backpack picked up a suitable sized stick to aid in walking, and set off.
“Once I’ve seen beyond the grassy field I’ll be famous and everyone will know my name!” she declared aloud to herself “when they hear the name ‘Cashew’ they will no longer laugh, they will instead be reminded of me and the greatness I have achieved!” it didn’t occur to Cashew that the world may already extend beyond her village, that there may actually be other civilisations beyond what she could see. But she was an explorer and was determined to be the first to discover the world beyond her town. Leaving her family and friends behind, she began her journey to “whatever it is that lies beyond the grass!”
After walking nonstop for several intense and exhausting minutes, Cashew threw her bag to the ground and lay on the ground staring up at the sun, she wondered “how long will it take for me to go blind if I continue staring at the sun like this?” but as her eyes began to sting and water she made the wise decision not to venture any further and find the answer. She rubbed her eyes until a gentle hand touched hers and a voice said “staring at the sun like that will make you blind.” Cashew opened her eyes and found a boy standing over her, his hand was outstretched to help her up, she took it and clumsily stood beside him. His hand was twice the size of hers, but he didn’t look nearly as old as her dad.
“Thanks” she said “I just wanted to know how long it would take”
“How long what would take?” the boy asked conversationally
“For me to go blind” she answer “but it hurt too much and I couldn’t bear it any longer”
“I’m not surprised”
“That I was so silly?”
“No. That you gave up”
“I didn’t ‘give up’ I just decided I would rather keep my vision than find out the answer”
“That, you see, is the reason why no one knows the answer. The smarter of us just presume we’ll go blind if we look at the sun, and don’t really care about discovering the answer to your query”
Cashew thought momentarily about questioning him, and arguing that maybe staring at the sun has never even been a cause of blindness. But she felt intimidated by the young man and began to nervously twiddle with the plastic Barbie watch around her dainty wrist.
“What are you doing all by yourself out in this open field anyway? Anything could happen to you and nobody would know” the man had managed to change Cashew’s outlook of a marvellous adventure down a path of self doubt.
“I... um... just wanted to go exploring?” she hoped very much for his approval
“Well you shouldn’t go alone. I wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you” but it was no fun anymore, he had taken the spontaneity and excitement away. “What were you thinking of doing?” he asked, half curious but half in anticipation to get it over with. This made Cashew feel rather stupid, how could she say ‘I was just going to roam around anywhere hoping something exciting would happen,’ he would just think her a fool.
“I’m.... looking for my pet dog...”
“Did he run away? I thought you said you were exploring?”
“Oh... yeah. Um, I’m exploring around to find my lost dog” she was partially satisfied with this response, as it seemed to give her an air of purpose although it didn’t fully support her ‘I just wanted to go exploring’ statement from earlier on, and she knew he was aware of that.
“Right then. Let’s get looking. We don’t want to boil away under the sun” the man began to scan the field with his eyes as he walked forwards. At least her adventure had some sense of direction now, Cashew concluded that this was a good thing, and happily followed the clever boy.
“Spot!” she called to the sky so their search would appear more genuine, he soon mimicked her calls. She was pleased that calling her (however imaginary) dog’s name had been seen as a good move to make.
“What’s your name by the way?” the man asked, after a tiring day of walking forwards and calling to nothing.
“Lucy” Cashew replied, for she didn’t think her name would sit well with the man.
“mm, that’s fairly ordinary” he said with a gentle smile. She wished she’d told him her real name, maybe he would have said ‘wow! That’s very unique and special! I love it’ but no, she had to lie. She was now seen as dull and ordinary and it was entirely her fault.
“I’m just going to go over there for a moment, I’ll be back shortly” the man informed her, pointing towards an identical area of never ending grass just over to the left. The town was no longer in sight, and the sun was beginning to set. Cashew didn’t ask what he was doing, in fear that his sentence would end with ‘...what else would I have been doing, you stupid child.’ He walked so far to the left that, in the hazy black sky, Cashew could no longer see him. She began to think about what he’d said earlier about something bad possibly happening to her if she were alone. The day had been warm, but the night was chilly. The moon shone bright enough that Cashew could make out the intricate details of the friendship bracelet around her ankle. This ignited her on a whirlwind of thoughts: if you wear a bracelet around your ankle is it still a bracelet? Do you call it an anklet even though it was made as a bracelet? Why can’t I tell which threads are purple and which are green in this light? Why is it that the night changes brightness and also colour? Does the sun hold all the colour? She continued to wonder as little girls do, until, very suddenly, she was knocked forward by a galloping horse.
“Shit! Sorry” said a voice, a tanned boy with dark hair swung off his horse and gently helped Cashew to her feet. He looked at her with a pure honesty, she could see into his soul and it was clear he didn’t mean to hurt her for he obviously cared. “Are you hurt? Would you like me to give you a ride on my horse? Where are you off to?” he asked tenderly, he looked at her as if he’d never cared about anything more in his entire life. Like she was special.
“No no” she reassured him “I’m fine”
“You’re shivering” he exclaimed “why didn’t you tell me? Here, take my jacket” and without waiting for her response, he gave Cashew his puffy brown leather coat.
“Thanks”
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, genuinely curious and genuinely concerned
“I was going to go on an adventure”
“Sounds fun! I’d be up for that” Cashew loved that he liked her for who she was and wondered if the other man would have been the same if she’d been honest, but then she remembered how intimated he had made her feel.
“Would you really!? We should go on an adventure together”
“Do you often go on adventures?” he asked
“No, I never have before”
“Then this will be your first real adventure?”
“Yeah, I suppose it will be! We’ll have to make it fun and exciting”
“Fun and exciting is my specialty!” he smiled and winked at her and she felt very content within herself.
“I love your horse” she commented, feeling that she could say anything without being negatively judged
“Why thank you” he bowed “she is the horse of the night, I call her Nightmare”
“She’s beautiful”
“Do you want to ride her?”
“I would love to ride her! That would be very fun and exciting!”
And with that he jumped upon his black mare and swept Cashew up with his hand. As they galloped off into the night Cashew remembered the other man and worried about whether he would feel left behind, but she figured he hadn’t really liked her that much anyway and would probably be better off without her around.
After only a very short while she noticed that the grass land was coming to an end and could see a forest just over in the distance
“Oh! Look! The grassland does end! This is a great adventure” she cried, holding onto his waste so she wouldn’t slip off the lighting fast horse.
“This is only the beginning my lovely” he announced and they sped even faster towards the tall trees. “What’s your name by the way?”
“Cashew”
“Bless you”
“Haha, no, that’s my name!” she laughed
“It’s sweet” he said earnestly. She was so happy she could fly. They were soon at the forest and the pair of them were very excited. He flung her off the horse and they went running about in the forest, she felt as free as a bird and didn’t hesitate to hold back as she leaped about and absorbed how wonderful the forest was. It was during this time, however, that she remembered her mother’s warnings ‘be back by supper,’ it was now long past supper, it was long past bed time. If only she’d stayed with the other man, he would have got her safely home. Even though she couldn’t be honest or herself around him, he would surely have made certain she got home in time. Now she was more worried than she ever had to be, she no longer even felt safe. She knew she couldn’t trust this boy.
“What’s wrong?” the boy asked
“I think I should go home now”
“But we’ve only just started having fun! There’s so much more I need to show you” but Cashew had never wanted to go beyond what was beyond the grass field, she had merely wanted evidence that it ended. She knew it would be fun to stay but never the less it was too much excitement for her to deal with, she was already late and would have to go home.
Without question he saddled up Nightmare and took Cashew home
“Goodnight. We’ll have to do something fun and exciting again someday” she said as she stumbled off his horse and handed him back his jacket
“No problems. I’ll catch you round” he waited until she was safely inside her house and then galloped off into the night. She doubted he would even remember her, he would continue to go on many adventures without her. Cashew felt bad. Not bad as in sick or upset, but bad as in naughty. Her mum felt much the same. She went to bed straight away without supper.
The next morning there came a knock at the door. “It must be the boy with the horse!” Cashew thought when her mum announced that it was for her. But it wasn’t. It was the other man. She was very excited to see him, although she couldn’t fathom why, he seemed a much better friend to have than the ridder of Nightmare
“Hi Lucy” he said sweetly, smiling gently “I just wanted to say sorry for walking off so far. I hope you’ll forgive me, I never meant to abandon you”
“That’s fine, I understand” she said, feeling incredibly guilty for abandoning him and running off with the other boy. She wished very much that she hadn’t left him behind, even if it meant she may not have seen the forest.
“My name isn’t Lucy, by the way” she added impulsively “It’s Cashew” for a second he was confused and shocked, but then he said “I wish you’d told me that earlier...that’s the most wonderful name I’ve ever heard, and I shall never forget it for as long as I live.”
Cashew lay silently on her back, gazing up at the shadowed ceiling, wondering why on earth she had been named after a nut. When all of a sudden it dawned on her, as the sun crept through the windows, Cashew realised that she had to make a name for herself. What was the use of having such an off centre name if she wasn’t going to use it to her advantage? So she hopped out of bed, got dressed, brushed her teeth and did all those other routine things that normal people with normal names do in the morning, before stuffing a backpack full of clothes and food and declaring to her mother that she was “going on a wild adventure that no one has ever dreamt of” her mother said “be back in time for supper, dear” and Cashew swung her bag around her shoulders, leaving the house with nothing but excitement on her mind.
Standing outside in the morning air, the long grass under her elf like boots, Cashew came to the conclusion that there was no adventure to be had. She looked across the grassy field, it stretched on as far as she could see. It would be tiring to push through and she doubted it would ever end, but she’d promised herself an adventure and she never broke her word. She adjusted the straps of her backpack picked up a suitable sized stick to aid in walking, and set off.
“Once I’ve seen beyond the grassy field I’ll be famous and everyone will know my name!” she declared aloud to herself “when they hear the name ‘Cashew’ they will no longer laugh, they will instead be reminded of me and the greatness I have achieved!” it didn’t occur to Cashew that the world may already extend beyond her village, that there may actually be other civilisations beyond what she could see. But she was an explorer and was determined to be the first to discover the world beyond her town. Leaving her family and friends behind, she began her journey to “whatever it is that lies beyond the grass!”
After walking nonstop for several intense and exhausting minutes, Cashew threw her bag to the ground and lay on the ground staring up at the sun, she wondered “how long will it take for me to go blind if I continue staring at the sun like this?” but as her eyes began to sting and water she made the wise decision not to venture any further and find the answer. She rubbed her eyes until a gentle hand touched hers and a voice said “staring at the sun like that will make you blind.” Cashew opened her eyes and found a boy standing over her, his hand was outstretched to help her up, she took it and clumsily stood beside him. His hand was twice the size of hers, but he didn’t look nearly as old as her dad.
“Thanks” she said “I just wanted to know how long it would take”
“How long what would take?” the boy asked conversationally
“For me to go blind” she answer “but it hurt too much and I couldn’t bear it any longer”
“I’m not surprised”
“That I was so silly?”
“No. That you gave up”
“I didn’t ‘give up’ I just decided I would rather keep my vision than find out the answer”
“That, you see, is the reason why no one knows the answer. The smarter of us just presume we’ll go blind if we look at the sun, and don’t really care about discovering the answer to your query”
Cashew thought momentarily about questioning him, and arguing that maybe staring at the sun has never even been a cause of blindness. But she felt intimidated by the young man and began to nervously twiddle with the plastic Barbie watch around her dainty wrist.
“What are you doing all by yourself out in this open field anyway? Anything could happen to you and nobody would know” the man had managed to change Cashew’s outlook of a marvellous adventure down a path of self doubt.
“I... um... just wanted to go exploring?” she hoped very much for his approval
“Well you shouldn’t go alone. I wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you” but it was no fun anymore, he had taken the spontaneity and excitement away. “What were you thinking of doing?” he asked, half curious but half in anticipation to get it over with. This made Cashew feel rather stupid, how could she say ‘I was just going to roam around anywhere hoping something exciting would happen,’ he would just think her a fool.
“I’m.... looking for my pet dog...”
“Did he run away? I thought you said you were exploring?”
“Oh... yeah. Um, I’m exploring around to find my lost dog” she was partially satisfied with this response, as it seemed to give her an air of purpose although it didn’t fully support her ‘I just wanted to go exploring’ statement from earlier on, and she knew he was aware of that.
“Right then. Let’s get looking. We don’t want to boil away under the sun” the man began to scan the field with his eyes as he walked forwards. At least her adventure had some sense of direction now, Cashew concluded that this was a good thing, and happily followed the clever boy.
“Spot!” she called to the sky so their search would appear more genuine, he soon mimicked her calls. She was pleased that calling her (however imaginary) dog’s name had been seen as a good move to make.
“What’s your name by the way?” the man asked, after a tiring day of walking forwards and calling to nothing.
“Lucy” Cashew replied, for she didn’t think her name would sit well with the man.
“mm, that’s fairly ordinary” he said with a gentle smile. She wished she’d told him her real name, maybe he would have said ‘wow! That’s very unique and special! I love it’ but no, she had to lie. She was now seen as dull and ordinary and it was entirely her fault.
“I’m just going to go over there for a moment, I’ll be back shortly” the man informed her, pointing towards an identical area of never ending grass just over to the left. The town was no longer in sight, and the sun was beginning to set. Cashew didn’t ask what he was doing, in fear that his sentence would end with ‘...what else would I have been doing, you stupid child.’ He walked so far to the left that, in the hazy black sky, Cashew could no longer see him. She began to think about what he’d said earlier about something bad possibly happening to her if she were alone. The day had been warm, but the night was chilly. The moon shone bright enough that Cashew could make out the intricate details of the friendship bracelet around her ankle. This ignited her on a whirlwind of thoughts: if you wear a bracelet around your ankle is it still a bracelet? Do you call it an anklet even though it was made as a bracelet? Why can’t I tell which threads are purple and which are green in this light? Why is it that the night changes brightness and also colour? Does the sun hold all the colour? She continued to wonder as little girls do, until, very suddenly, she was knocked forward by a galloping horse.
“Shit! Sorry” said a voice, a tanned boy with dark hair swung off his horse and gently helped Cashew to her feet. He looked at her with a pure honesty, she could see into his soul and it was clear he didn’t mean to hurt her for he obviously cared. “Are you hurt? Would you like me to give you a ride on my horse? Where are you off to?” he asked tenderly, he looked at her as if he’d never cared about anything more in his entire life. Like she was special.
“No no” she reassured him “I’m fine”
“You’re shivering” he exclaimed “why didn’t you tell me? Here, take my jacket” and without waiting for her response, he gave Cashew his puffy brown leather coat.
“Thanks”
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, genuinely curious and genuinely concerned
“I was going to go on an adventure”
“Sounds fun! I’d be up for that” Cashew loved that he liked her for who she was and wondered if the other man would have been the same if she’d been honest, but then she remembered how intimated he had made her feel.
“Would you really!? We should go on an adventure together”
“Do you often go on adventures?” he asked
“No, I never have before”
“Then this will be your first real adventure?”
“Yeah, I suppose it will be! We’ll have to make it fun and exciting”
“Fun and exciting is my specialty!” he smiled and winked at her and she felt very content within herself.
“I love your horse” she commented, feeling that she could say anything without being negatively judged
“Why thank you” he bowed “she is the horse of the night, I call her Nightmare”
“She’s beautiful”
“Do you want to ride her?”
“I would love to ride her! That would be very fun and exciting!”
And with that he jumped upon his black mare and swept Cashew up with his hand. As they galloped off into the night Cashew remembered the other man and worried about whether he would feel left behind, but she figured he hadn’t really liked her that much anyway and would probably be better off without her around.
After only a very short while she noticed that the grass land was coming to an end and could see a forest just over in the distance
“Oh! Look! The grassland does end! This is a great adventure” she cried, holding onto his waste so she wouldn’t slip off the lighting fast horse.
“This is only the beginning my lovely” he announced and they sped even faster towards the tall trees. “What’s your name by the way?”
“Cashew”
“Bless you”
“Haha, no, that’s my name!” she laughed
“It’s sweet” he said earnestly. She was so happy she could fly. They were soon at the forest and the pair of them were very excited. He flung her off the horse and they went running about in the forest, she felt as free as a bird and didn’t hesitate to hold back as she leaped about and absorbed how wonderful the forest was. It was during this time, however, that she remembered her mother’s warnings ‘be back by supper,’ it was now long past supper, it was long past bed time. If only she’d stayed with the other man, he would have got her safely home. Even though she couldn’t be honest or herself around him, he would surely have made certain she got home in time. Now she was more worried than she ever had to be, she no longer even felt safe. She knew she couldn’t trust this boy.
“What’s wrong?” the boy asked
“I think I should go home now”
“But we’ve only just started having fun! There’s so much more I need to show you” but Cashew had never wanted to go beyond what was beyond the grass field, she had merely wanted evidence that it ended. She knew it would be fun to stay but never the less it was too much excitement for her to deal with, she was already late and would have to go home.
Without question he saddled up Nightmare and took Cashew home
“Goodnight. We’ll have to do something fun and exciting again someday” she said as she stumbled off his horse and handed him back his jacket
“No problems. I’ll catch you round” he waited until she was safely inside her house and then galloped off into the night. She doubted he would even remember her, he would continue to go on many adventures without her. Cashew felt bad. Not bad as in sick or upset, but bad as in naughty. Her mum felt much the same. She went to bed straight away without supper.
The next morning there came a knock at the door. “It must be the boy with the horse!” Cashew thought when her mum announced that it was for her. But it wasn’t. It was the other man. She was very excited to see him, although she couldn’t fathom why, he seemed a much better friend to have than the ridder of Nightmare
“Hi Lucy” he said sweetly, smiling gently “I just wanted to say sorry for walking off so far. I hope you’ll forgive me, I never meant to abandon you”
“That’s fine, I understand” she said, feeling incredibly guilty for abandoning him and running off with the other boy. She wished very much that she hadn’t left him behind, even if it meant she may not have seen the forest.
“My name isn’t Lucy, by the way” she added impulsively “It’s Cashew” for a second he was confused and shocked, but then he said “I wish you’d told me that earlier...that’s the most wonderful name I’ve ever heard, and I shall never forget it for as long as I live.”
Friday, August 28, 2009
Magic Coffee Story
This was meant to be a story about a man who has a magical adventure with a coffee cup that gives him whatever drink he desires, depending on what he presses down on the top of the plastic take away cup lid. This story, however, is nothing like that. Enjoy anyway.....
He fumbled around his pockets for his wallet, he was wearing a new jacket and was unfamiliar with the whereabouts of the pockets, more specifically the whereabouts of his wallet. The cosy little cafe was deserted and quiet except for the gentle, agitated tapping of the waitresses’ fingers against the cash register. “Just a moment” he reassured her “it’s here somewhere” eventually he thought to try his back jean pocket, and was somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t looked there first.
“Two dollars fifty” the waitress reminded him expecting his memory of all things to be pitiable, but he placed the correct sum of money on the counter before she had finished speaking. She begrudgingly set to work constructing the caramel flavoured hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and cream, which he had previously ordered.
“Thank you” he said with great sincerity, trying to make his smile as suggestive as possible. The waitress seemed oblivious to his emotions (or else she simply didn’t care) and continued to read her murder mystery novel to pass the time while waiting for the next costumer she knew wouldn’t be coming. After six years of coming to the same cafe, he had never gone as far as leaving a suggestive smile and was rather pumped with adrenaline as he took a seat in his usual corner. He had been preparing for the all revealing smile for some time now, and wasn’t sure what to think of her indifferent response.
Once seated, he took another glance in her direction, she must have felt the lingering stare because she looked up from her novel after a few minutes “what’s that you’re reading?” he asked her spontaneously. He was astounded at himself and it took him several moments to release the words had left his mouth. Why, after years of planning a smile, had he suddenly asked a personal question? His heart accelerated to beyond what should be healthy, and he wondered if she could hear it.
“Just something I picked up from the library” she replied casually, and continued reading to avoid talking further. She goes to library! he thought with intense excitement. He had no real reason for being excited, but he was undoubtedly over the moon.
“It’s funny you should say that” he said not thinking twice, or even once “because I went to the library the other day, and got a book as well!” he immediately realised how foolish his comment was and closed his eyes in anguished embarrassment. She looked up at him briefly and as their eyes met he wished he could bottle the moment and revisit the connection at a later date. It didn’t last long and she had a why-does-my-only-costumer-have-to-be-so-strange look on her face, but he placed it high on his list of heaven like moments all the same.
His usual cautious self kicked back in and he averted his gaze, leaving her to read. Read the book she always read. The book she picked up from the library. The same library he goes to. Maybe one day he’ll bump into her there.... maybe they’ll talk again there.... perhaps things would be better in a different context... he went on to imagine the pretty waitress falling to her knees by his feet, in the murder mystery isle of the library, declaring her love and begging him to go out with her. His daydreams never involved him making the first move. He couldn’t even imagine doing such a thing.
He looked down to his coffee cup. He wondered for the five hundredth time why she always gives him a take away cup. Surely she must know by now that he always stays in the cafe to finish his coffee? Why not give him one of the deep blue mugs that hang above the coffee machine? She hates me, he thought fiddling with the plastic lid, she gives me a take away cup because she wishes I wouldn’t hang around. She hates me. Deciding that his thoughts were unmistakably the truth, he stood up, pulled out the gun he kept in his inner jacket pocket, and shot her square in the head.
He fumbled around his pockets for his wallet, he was wearing a new jacket and was unfamiliar with the whereabouts of the pockets, more specifically the whereabouts of his wallet. The cosy little cafe was deserted and quiet except for the gentle, agitated tapping of the waitresses’ fingers against the cash register. “Just a moment” he reassured her “it’s here somewhere” eventually he thought to try his back jean pocket, and was somewhat embarrassed that he hadn’t looked there first.
“Two dollars fifty” the waitress reminded him expecting his memory of all things to be pitiable, but he placed the correct sum of money on the counter before she had finished speaking. She begrudgingly set to work constructing the caramel flavoured hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and cream, which he had previously ordered.
“Thank you” he said with great sincerity, trying to make his smile as suggestive as possible. The waitress seemed oblivious to his emotions (or else she simply didn’t care) and continued to read her murder mystery novel to pass the time while waiting for the next costumer she knew wouldn’t be coming. After six years of coming to the same cafe, he had never gone as far as leaving a suggestive smile and was rather pumped with adrenaline as he took a seat in his usual corner. He had been preparing for the all revealing smile for some time now, and wasn’t sure what to think of her indifferent response.
Once seated, he took another glance in her direction, she must have felt the lingering stare because she looked up from her novel after a few minutes “what’s that you’re reading?” he asked her spontaneously. He was astounded at himself and it took him several moments to release the words had left his mouth. Why, after years of planning a smile, had he suddenly asked a personal question? His heart accelerated to beyond what should be healthy, and he wondered if she could hear it.
“Just something I picked up from the library” she replied casually, and continued reading to avoid talking further. She goes to library! he thought with intense excitement. He had no real reason for being excited, but he was undoubtedly over the moon.
“It’s funny you should say that” he said not thinking twice, or even once “because I went to the library the other day, and got a book as well!” he immediately realised how foolish his comment was and closed his eyes in anguished embarrassment. She looked up at him briefly and as their eyes met he wished he could bottle the moment and revisit the connection at a later date. It didn’t last long and she had a why-does-my-only-costumer-have-to-be-so-strange look on her face, but he placed it high on his list of heaven like moments all the same.
His usual cautious self kicked back in and he averted his gaze, leaving her to read. Read the book she always read. The book she picked up from the library. The same library he goes to. Maybe one day he’ll bump into her there.... maybe they’ll talk again there.... perhaps things would be better in a different context... he went on to imagine the pretty waitress falling to her knees by his feet, in the murder mystery isle of the library, declaring her love and begging him to go out with her. His daydreams never involved him making the first move. He couldn’t even imagine doing such a thing.
He looked down to his coffee cup. He wondered for the five hundredth time why she always gives him a take away cup. Surely she must know by now that he always stays in the cafe to finish his coffee? Why not give him one of the deep blue mugs that hang above the coffee machine? She hates me, he thought fiddling with the plastic lid, she gives me a take away cup because she wishes I wouldn’t hang around. She hates me. Deciding that his thoughts were unmistakably the truth, he stood up, pulled out the gun he kept in his inner jacket pocket, and shot her square in the head.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Snow White
Today is a bad day. Today is the day I realised that life isn’t at all like a movie. In reality exciting things are rather rare and adventures even rarer. This morning it was raining and the umbrella I bought to replace my disintegrating old one, was locked away at school. I had no choice but to use my former, less caring, ‘umbrella.’ It looks identical to my new one, so I tend to call it the ‘evil twin’..... actually, I don’t, I just made that up then. I think the world must have a personal grudge against me, why else would it rain on the one day I didn’t have a whole umbrella. So, I was walking from the train station to school with the protection of half an umbrella above my head. I mean quite literally ‘half’ an umbrella, as it stays moderately stiff and umbrella-ish on one side and the other side simply droops down and dangles pointlessly from the stiff half. Well, not pointlessly, the dead half’s purpose is to tip the water collected from the solid half and drain it onto me and my bag (my little non-waterproof bag, which was a substitute for the normal bag I left at school along with the ‘good twin.’)
So I’m walking down the street, drench in rain, people are pointing and whispering at my mutated ‘umbrella’, I’ve ruined my non-existent reputation and I’m freezing cold because my blazer is also in my locker at school. Then it happened. The dead half of the umbrella swung down and hit me in the face. It didn’t hurt. But I cried. It was the strangest moment of my life. It took me a while to figure out why I was crying, but I came to this conclusion: this moment in my life was like the opening to a film, where they introduce the protagonist as having a bad day or possibly just as being an unlucky person in general, this film will involve the main character going on an adventure of some kind, falling in love, accomplishing things she never dreamed she could, finding out she’s magic and will finish with her walking down the same street on a sunny day with a big smile on her face. That won’t happen to me.
This somehow reminded me of fairytales (specifically, Disney princess fairytales) and so I thought I would share with you a more realistic ending to the Snow White film. The setting and time period remain the same:
Snow White was lying unconscious on a bed covered in rose petals. She had been in this state for quite a while now and the dwarfs were all very worried that she may never wake up again. They feared her to be dead. But, alas! Who should come galloping to her rescue but Prince Charming! He flung himself swiftly off his gallant steed and strode passionately to Snow White’s side. Upon kissing Snow White, she fluttered open her eyelids and sat up, her strength was miraculously back to normal.
“Are you alright?” asked the prince “do you need some water or something? I could dash back to the palace and get you some medicine?”
“You fool!” she hissed through closed teeth “you’re supposed to just sweep me off my feet and ride off with me into the sunset, so we can live happily ever after!”
“Oh. OK. Sorry. So do you want me to do that now then?” he asked, simply trying to give her what she wanted.
“No. You’ve ruined the moment now. Idiot. It’s supposed to be a spontaneous act of love. You’ve just stuffed the whole thing up by discussing it” she was now disgusted at his lack of spontaneity and could think of no way he could fix the situation.
“Spontaneous love? Do you love me?” Price Charming was astonished at the thought.
“You daft, dim witted moron” she replied calmly “only true loves kiss could have woken me up. We obviously love each other”
“I don’t even know you” argued the prince delicately “could we not get more acquainted first?” this last sentence enraged Snow White and she stood up from her coffin of a bed.
“This is just stupid. I’m going back inside. I’m sure the dwarfs will appreciate me more than you do” but she didn’t move.
“Alright. Well, I’ll see you around then..... er.... what was your name?”
“Snow White” she replied, almost in tears. He got back on his horse before she went on to say “we could try again” and then “I could pretend to be dying again and you could come and whisk me off to your kingdom in the hills”
“Look... I’ve actually got a lot of prince things to deal with at the moment. You know, ordering people to be beheaded, that kind of thing. I don’t really have time for all this” his horse was slowly trotting away with him.
“I can still come with you! You can do your prince stuff and I’ll do my princess stuff! We’ll both be busy but we can still be together. This is true love Prince Charming”
“Princess stuff?”
“Singing to birds. Knitting. Waiting for my prince to come.... oh, well that will have already happened. But I can do the other princess things”
“Fine. Whatever. Get on. I’m in a bit of a hurry” little did he know that this was the wrong thing to say
“Do you love me?” Snow White asked, realising that he may not
“I don’t know you!”
“But you kissed me!?”
“You were dying! I couldn’t just let you die!”
“You’ve messed everything up” Snow White concluded “if you aren’t capable of romantically sweeping me off my feet, then I’m just going back inside”
“Good!” he bellowed and galloped off into the distance. Snow White sat down and cried.
So I’m walking down the street, drench in rain, people are pointing and whispering at my mutated ‘umbrella’, I’ve ruined my non-existent reputation and I’m freezing cold because my blazer is also in my locker at school. Then it happened. The dead half of the umbrella swung down and hit me in the face. It didn’t hurt. But I cried. It was the strangest moment of my life. It took me a while to figure out why I was crying, but I came to this conclusion: this moment in my life was like the opening to a film, where they introduce the protagonist as having a bad day or possibly just as being an unlucky person in general, this film will involve the main character going on an adventure of some kind, falling in love, accomplishing things she never dreamed she could, finding out she’s magic and will finish with her walking down the same street on a sunny day with a big smile on her face. That won’t happen to me.
This somehow reminded me of fairytales (specifically, Disney princess fairytales) and so I thought I would share with you a more realistic ending to the Snow White film. The setting and time period remain the same:
Snow White was lying unconscious on a bed covered in rose petals. She had been in this state for quite a while now and the dwarfs were all very worried that she may never wake up again. They feared her to be dead. But, alas! Who should come galloping to her rescue but Prince Charming! He flung himself swiftly off his gallant steed and strode passionately to Snow White’s side. Upon kissing Snow White, she fluttered open her eyelids and sat up, her strength was miraculously back to normal.
“Are you alright?” asked the prince “do you need some water or something? I could dash back to the palace and get you some medicine?”
“You fool!” she hissed through closed teeth “you’re supposed to just sweep me off my feet and ride off with me into the sunset, so we can live happily ever after!”
“Oh. OK. Sorry. So do you want me to do that now then?” he asked, simply trying to give her what she wanted.
“No. You’ve ruined the moment now. Idiot. It’s supposed to be a spontaneous act of love. You’ve just stuffed the whole thing up by discussing it” she was now disgusted at his lack of spontaneity and could think of no way he could fix the situation.
“Spontaneous love? Do you love me?” Price Charming was astonished at the thought.
“You daft, dim witted moron” she replied calmly “only true loves kiss could have woken me up. We obviously love each other”
“I don’t even know you” argued the prince delicately “could we not get more acquainted first?” this last sentence enraged Snow White and she stood up from her coffin of a bed.
“This is just stupid. I’m going back inside. I’m sure the dwarfs will appreciate me more than you do” but she didn’t move.
“Alright. Well, I’ll see you around then..... er.... what was your name?”
“Snow White” she replied, almost in tears. He got back on his horse before she went on to say “we could try again” and then “I could pretend to be dying again and you could come and whisk me off to your kingdom in the hills”
“Look... I’ve actually got a lot of prince things to deal with at the moment. You know, ordering people to be beheaded, that kind of thing. I don’t really have time for all this” his horse was slowly trotting away with him.
“I can still come with you! You can do your prince stuff and I’ll do my princess stuff! We’ll both be busy but we can still be together. This is true love Prince Charming”
“Princess stuff?”
“Singing to birds. Knitting. Waiting for my prince to come.... oh, well that will have already happened. But I can do the other princess things”
“Fine. Whatever. Get on. I’m in a bit of a hurry” little did he know that this was the wrong thing to say
“Do you love me?” Snow White asked, realising that he may not
“I don’t know you!”
“But you kissed me!?”
“You were dying! I couldn’t just let you die!”
“You’ve messed everything up” Snow White concluded “if you aren’t capable of romantically sweeping me off my feet, then I’m just going back inside”
“Good!” he bellowed and galloped off into the distance. Snow White sat down and cried.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Murder Mystery
The gate outside slammed heavily against the brick fence, the wind bustled amongst the moonlit leaves like an empty switched on blender and a delicate black cat arched her back before hastily tiptoeing away. So, now that we’ve set the scene for a place entirely devoid of the actual story, I feel it’s time we began..... Becky sat on a sopping wet towel, her moist legs enjoying the rays of warm sun that were beating down against her already tanned skin. A boy and what appeared to be his girlfriend were busy building a sand castle, laughing tipsily every time the waves washed their work away. Not far from the couple a little boy splashed his friends, one of which got salty water in their eye and raced ashore to report this to his all caring mother, who was reading a book under the shade of an umbrella rather close to Becky. A middle aged man jogged along the picturesque shoreline, looking happier than a squirrel with several hundred acorns in its possession. His large Border-collie dog bounded beside him looking, just when it were thought impossible, even more happy than the man. An odd looking women, dressed in black from head to toe, stood about three metres away from the water, staring blankly out to sea.
Becky heard a sudden shuffling come from the bushes behind her, and automatically spun around to see what it was, her sunglasses flying off in the process. The sun momentarily blinded her and by the time her eyes had adjusted, whatever she had heard, was gone. A bellowing scream came from the water, echoing across the beach and possibly right round to Sweden as well. Becky instantly stood up and squinted down towards the sea, she rushed down to the water as quickly as she could, so did the mother.
As Becky got nearer, she could see that the young women was standing knee deep in water, her boyfriend lying head down in the shallow water. Her hands were dripping with diluted blood, which Becky was surprised to find smelt of rusty iron. The sea around the boy was gradually becoming more and more dense with red, he was obviously still bleeding and bleeding a lot. The women had not stopped screaming. She howled continuously as if a giant penguin with razor blades for teeth was chasing her. Then she stopped. The noise ringed around Becky’s head even after the bellowing had seized. The women collapsed feebly onto the water.
The running man was shock frozen, several meters away from the dead couple. Yes, the dead COUPLE, meaning both halves of the couple were dead. Deceased. The two of them. The man and his girlfriend. Yes, the girlfriend as well. His dog barked furiously, tugging at his lead, trying to get a closer sniff of the action. The mother had gathered up the little boys and they stood together in a cluster, she failed to shield all of their eyes at once. The gothic women began to approach the ever growing pool of blood, she checked their pulses and turned to Becky “they’re dead” she whispered, and casually strolled off. Once the jogger realized that something ought to be done, he pulled out his phone, called the police and ambulance and that was the end of that.
Now it’s up to you! Solve the murder and you shall win the Luna Mooney Detective Prize. Good luck!
Hint: every little thing in this post can help you unravel the mystery of the deaths.
Becky heard a sudden shuffling come from the bushes behind her, and automatically spun around to see what it was, her sunglasses flying off in the process. The sun momentarily blinded her and by the time her eyes had adjusted, whatever she had heard, was gone. A bellowing scream came from the water, echoing across the beach and possibly right round to Sweden as well. Becky instantly stood up and squinted down towards the sea, she rushed down to the water as quickly as she could, so did the mother.
As Becky got nearer, she could see that the young women was standing knee deep in water, her boyfriend lying head down in the shallow water. Her hands were dripping with diluted blood, which Becky was surprised to find smelt of rusty iron. The sea around the boy was gradually becoming more and more dense with red, he was obviously still bleeding and bleeding a lot. The women had not stopped screaming. She howled continuously as if a giant penguin with razor blades for teeth was chasing her. Then she stopped. The noise ringed around Becky’s head even after the bellowing had seized. The women collapsed feebly onto the water.
The running man was shock frozen, several meters away from the dead couple. Yes, the dead COUPLE, meaning both halves of the couple were dead. Deceased. The two of them. The man and his girlfriend. Yes, the girlfriend as well. His dog barked furiously, tugging at his lead, trying to get a closer sniff of the action. The mother had gathered up the little boys and they stood together in a cluster, she failed to shield all of their eyes at once. The gothic women began to approach the ever growing pool of blood, she checked their pulses and turned to Becky “they’re dead” she whispered, and casually strolled off. Once the jogger realized that something ought to be done, he pulled out his phone, called the police and ambulance and that was the end of that.
Now it’s up to you! Solve the murder and you shall win the Luna Mooney Detective Prize. Good luck!
Hint: every little thing in this post can help you unravel the mystery of the deaths.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Children's Story
Here is a little children’s story I whipped up when I couldn’t be bothered doing homework:
Matthew appeared to be an average boy. He was an average height, an average size, had average brown hair, lived in an average house with an average family, had an average pet dog, got average marks in all his average VCE subjects, brushed his teeth in the morning and afternoons (which is a fairly average thing to do) and he even ate his meals at the average time of day. But Matthew was anything but average.
At the beginning of high school the other boys were kind to him and welcomed him warmly into their lunch time conversations, but Matthew didn’t like wasting time talking about the latest computer games or how complicated maths class was getting, and so he turned down their offers of friendship and went on a mission to find someone more fun. He missed primary school profusely, he longed for a game of chasey, hide and seek, four square or British Bulldog, but mostly Matthew just wanted to play adventure games. At his old school the boys tended not to play imagination games and were more into running around or playing sport, so Matthew almost always played with the girls. There were no girls at his new school, but his older sister had wisely told him a few days before he finished primary school “when kids go to high school they stop playing games, Matt. No one runs around and no one plays adventure games. Everyone sits and talks” Matthew couldn’t believe what he was hearing
“What do they talk about?” he asked his all-knowing sister
“Boys” she sighed gloomily as if she was rather sick of talking about boys all the time. On his first day of high school Matthew soon realised that his sister had been right, everyone did sit and talk at play time. So he sat down with a friendly looking bunch of boys and said
“There’s a boy who works at the bakery near my house. His name’s George and he’s worked there for fifty years” the other boys stared at Matthew for a second or two and then burst into a flood of laughter. Matthew couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong, George was one of the most interesting boys he knew and if his sister had been right (and his sister was always right) then striking up a conversation about boys should have been a great way to start.
One afternoon Matthew’s sister had a friend over, her name was Clarissa and she was very pretty. Matthew told Clarissa all about his first day of high school and she laughed when he said “I don’t know why they didn’t want to talk about George, Phoebe told me that high school kids just talk about boys”
“Don’t be silly” she had said “boys don’t talk about boys.” This had made Matthew very confused, and it took him a whole two years of solitude to understand it. At the start of year 9 Matthew fell in love with Clarissa, he had never seen his sister’s best friend the way he did at the Christmas party that year. After a fairly awkward conversation with his mother, Matthew realised that he wasn’t ‘in love’ with Clarissa but was simply experiencing his ‘first crush.’ Apparently his mother had been waiting several years for this moment, Matthew blushed and promised himself he would never like another girl again. He had decided that girls were far too complicated (it had, after all, taken him two years to understand that girls talk about boys and boys talk about completely different things entirely.) He was still disappointed that girls, as well as boys, didn’t play adventure games anymore.
Another couple of years passed until Matthew entered his final year of school. He still hadn’t managed to make any friends, the other boys still just talked all the time and no one had signed Matthew’s “Adventure Game Players Club” poster, which he had pinned up on the notice board. He knew that he had been by himself for too long now to make any friends anyway, he had lasted five years alone, surely he could last just one more? But no, Matthew was tired of being called a ‘loner’ and wanted to fit in, so he went to his sister for help.
“I’ve decided that I want some friends”
“Is that right?” his sister replied, not looking up from her college report which was due in two weeks
“Yeah. I’m sick of spending lunch time and play time by myself”
“When will you stop calling recess ‘play time’ what are you, 5?”
“I wish” he mumbled under his breath
“Look” she said, putting her pen down and facing him “you can either be normal and get yourself some friends, or stay the way you are and..... pretend to have friends... whatever.” What Matthew’s sister hadn’t expected was that he would take ‘pretend to have friends’ incredibly seriously.
Matthew had a very productive holiday. On his first day of year 12 he walked to school with his new best friend: Archibald. Archie was a dashing young man and was in the same year as Matthew, luckily he was enrolled to start at the same school as Matthew, this made the two of them very happy indeed. Archie’s family was still living in the Himalayas and so Matthew let him stay at his place over the summer “we should find you a place to stay once school starts” Matthew had told his friend, but he knew that Archie would have no were to go and so added “you’re welcome to stay at my place until everything’s certain, of course.”
Archie was a lot of fun. He enthusiastically played adventure games with Matthew all through play time and lunch. They took all the same subjects, Archie was very smart and Matthew encouraged him to contribute to class discussions but Archie was simply too shy. One day Archie banged his leg rather hard on the teacher’s desk, but the nurse refused to treat him. Matthew was furious and stood up for his quite friend “this is because he’s from the Himalayas isn’t it!? You’re just a prejudiced old cow!” this bought Matthew a trip to the principal’s office.
“Archibald doesn’t fit in, just like me. He’s too different to play-I mean, talk- with the other boys. It’s bad enough that no one but me pays him any attention, and then the school nurse goes and refuses to fix his leg!”
“Matthew” began the principle, a concerned look had spread across his face “you’re far too old for imaginary friends. I’m going to recommend you see a good friend of mine, his name is Dr Carter, I think he might be able to help you” Matthew’s eyes widened, was the principle accusing him of being mad? “You’re a bright student, Matthew” he went on, flicking through what appeared to be Matthew’s files “but not very social, I see”
“I don’t want to be friends with any of the other boys!” Matthew sobbed “all I want to do is play the adventure games I used to play at primary school with the girls, but there are no girls here, and even if there were they would just sit and talk about boys” the principle looked overwhelmed with confusion “but Archie’s different” Matthew continued “he doesn’t tease me for calling recess ‘play time’, he doesn’t laugh when I play in the playground on the way to school, he doesn’t judge me for wanting to escape this world and create my own, he’s always there for me and he always supports me” Matthew whipped back the tears which had uncontrollably streamed down his face “but most importantly” he paused to swallow down some tears “Archie misses playing games as well.” There was an intense silence as the principle absorbed all that had been said, Matthew concluded by saying “don’t call me mad. Don’t call Archie imaginary. Because, if you do, then I’ll go back to having no one.”
Matthew appeared to be an average boy. He was an average height, an average size, had average brown hair, lived in an average house with an average family, had an average pet dog, got average marks in all his average VCE subjects, brushed his teeth in the morning and afternoons (which is a fairly average thing to do) and he even ate his meals at the average time of day. But Matthew was anything but average.
At the beginning of high school the other boys were kind to him and welcomed him warmly into their lunch time conversations, but Matthew didn’t like wasting time talking about the latest computer games or how complicated maths class was getting, and so he turned down their offers of friendship and went on a mission to find someone more fun. He missed primary school profusely, he longed for a game of chasey, hide and seek, four square or British Bulldog, but mostly Matthew just wanted to play adventure games. At his old school the boys tended not to play imagination games and were more into running around or playing sport, so Matthew almost always played with the girls. There were no girls at his new school, but his older sister had wisely told him a few days before he finished primary school “when kids go to high school they stop playing games, Matt. No one runs around and no one plays adventure games. Everyone sits and talks” Matthew couldn’t believe what he was hearing
“What do they talk about?” he asked his all-knowing sister
“Boys” she sighed gloomily as if she was rather sick of talking about boys all the time. On his first day of high school Matthew soon realised that his sister had been right, everyone did sit and talk at play time. So he sat down with a friendly looking bunch of boys and said
“There’s a boy who works at the bakery near my house. His name’s George and he’s worked there for fifty years” the other boys stared at Matthew for a second or two and then burst into a flood of laughter. Matthew couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong, George was one of the most interesting boys he knew and if his sister had been right (and his sister was always right) then striking up a conversation about boys should have been a great way to start.
One afternoon Matthew’s sister had a friend over, her name was Clarissa and she was very pretty. Matthew told Clarissa all about his first day of high school and she laughed when he said “I don’t know why they didn’t want to talk about George, Phoebe told me that high school kids just talk about boys”
“Don’t be silly” she had said “boys don’t talk about boys.” This had made Matthew very confused, and it took him a whole two years of solitude to understand it. At the start of year 9 Matthew fell in love with Clarissa, he had never seen his sister’s best friend the way he did at the Christmas party that year. After a fairly awkward conversation with his mother, Matthew realised that he wasn’t ‘in love’ with Clarissa but was simply experiencing his ‘first crush.’ Apparently his mother had been waiting several years for this moment, Matthew blushed and promised himself he would never like another girl again. He had decided that girls were far too complicated (it had, after all, taken him two years to understand that girls talk about boys and boys talk about completely different things entirely.) He was still disappointed that girls, as well as boys, didn’t play adventure games anymore.
Another couple of years passed until Matthew entered his final year of school. He still hadn’t managed to make any friends, the other boys still just talked all the time and no one had signed Matthew’s “Adventure Game Players Club” poster, which he had pinned up on the notice board. He knew that he had been by himself for too long now to make any friends anyway, he had lasted five years alone, surely he could last just one more? But no, Matthew was tired of being called a ‘loner’ and wanted to fit in, so he went to his sister for help.
“I’ve decided that I want some friends”
“Is that right?” his sister replied, not looking up from her college report which was due in two weeks
“Yeah. I’m sick of spending lunch time and play time by myself”
“When will you stop calling recess ‘play time’ what are you, 5?”
“I wish” he mumbled under his breath
“Look” she said, putting her pen down and facing him “you can either be normal and get yourself some friends, or stay the way you are and..... pretend to have friends... whatever.” What Matthew’s sister hadn’t expected was that he would take ‘pretend to have friends’ incredibly seriously.
Matthew had a very productive holiday. On his first day of year 12 he walked to school with his new best friend: Archibald. Archie was a dashing young man and was in the same year as Matthew, luckily he was enrolled to start at the same school as Matthew, this made the two of them very happy indeed. Archie’s family was still living in the Himalayas and so Matthew let him stay at his place over the summer “we should find you a place to stay once school starts” Matthew had told his friend, but he knew that Archie would have no were to go and so added “you’re welcome to stay at my place until everything’s certain, of course.”
Archie was a lot of fun. He enthusiastically played adventure games with Matthew all through play time and lunch. They took all the same subjects, Archie was very smart and Matthew encouraged him to contribute to class discussions but Archie was simply too shy. One day Archie banged his leg rather hard on the teacher’s desk, but the nurse refused to treat him. Matthew was furious and stood up for his quite friend “this is because he’s from the Himalayas isn’t it!? You’re just a prejudiced old cow!” this bought Matthew a trip to the principal’s office.
“Archibald doesn’t fit in, just like me. He’s too different to play-I mean, talk- with the other boys. It’s bad enough that no one but me pays him any attention, and then the school nurse goes and refuses to fix his leg!”
“Matthew” began the principle, a concerned look had spread across his face “you’re far too old for imaginary friends. I’m going to recommend you see a good friend of mine, his name is Dr Carter, I think he might be able to help you” Matthew’s eyes widened, was the principle accusing him of being mad? “You’re a bright student, Matthew” he went on, flicking through what appeared to be Matthew’s files “but not very social, I see”
“I don’t want to be friends with any of the other boys!” Matthew sobbed “all I want to do is play the adventure games I used to play at primary school with the girls, but there are no girls here, and even if there were they would just sit and talk about boys” the principle looked overwhelmed with confusion “but Archie’s different” Matthew continued “he doesn’t tease me for calling recess ‘play time’, he doesn’t laugh when I play in the playground on the way to school, he doesn’t judge me for wanting to escape this world and create my own, he’s always there for me and he always supports me” Matthew whipped back the tears which had uncontrollably streamed down his face “but most importantly” he paused to swallow down some tears “Archie misses playing games as well.” There was an intense silence as the principle absorbed all that had been said, Matthew concluded by saying “don’t call me mad. Don’t call Archie imaginary. Because, if you do, then I’ll go back to having no one.”
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
“I have to do this!” Draco whimpers as he holds his wand at the ready towards a defenceless Dumbledore. “I have to do this!” I say to myself when I foolishly realise what a good idea it would be to write a Half-Blood Prince review, almost a week after actually seeing the film.
If you’re reading this then you’re either one of my many(~) blog readers or you typed ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince film review’ into Google and read so many reviews that you’ve now reached page 14 where this little blog post was waiting for you. This means you would have read a lot of other opinions and are looking for something new, if you’ve stumbled across my blog in a desperate attempt to find more things Harry Potter then you’ve also probably seen the film. So, I won’t try and hide important climax’ or sensor anything. I actually already wrote a page long review for a friend and that was only describing the first half hour, so it will be tricky to narrow this review down to an internet browser friendly length. I shall try my best:
1. If you haven’t seen the film, watch out for the Hogwarts Express. Everyone I know who has seen it didn’t notice, but the train seems to have lost its magic. In the other films the Hogwarts Express is a shiny, bright crimson, in this film it’s a faded red. It’s almost as if the film makers misplaced the old train (as trains are very easy things to lose~) and had to make do with spray painting an average train from the undergrounds of London... although the trains in London are double deckers. It was like they were amateurs trying to mimic the Hogwarts Express of the first films. Why on earth would we care about your dislike towards the new Hogwarts Express? You may ask. I might ask myself the same question.
2. Lupin and Tonks. Being the Lupin fan that I am, I was glad to find that my favourite sub plot of the book was one of the main focuses of the film ~. Throughout the book we are given clues as to why Tonks has undergone a personality change (from her optimistic, fun self to something quite the opposite.)Tonks features heavily in the novel and even shows up at Hogwarts a few times. In the end we find out that Tonks loves Lupin and has been upset because he claims he’s ‘too old, too poor and too dangerous’ for her. In the film Tonks and Lupin appear for about five minutes, within those five minutes Tonks calls him ‘sweetheart’ and we are to assume they’re together. Never mind, I’m sure we’ll see plenty of the couple in The Deathly Hallows, just as we saw plenty of Bill and Fleur in this one ~.
3. Draco Malfoy. I must say that I thought Tom Felton was the standout actor of this film, having said that I should mention that I’ve never been a fan of his (just in case you thought I was being biased), he’s always been one of my least favourite characters and I never really thought a great deal for or against Tom Felton’s acting. I wasn’t expecting a lot from him and was surprised by how much I liked Malfoy in this film. I think I’ll go as far as to say that he was better in the film than in the book. Maybe not ‘better’ but I certainly felt sorrier for him in the film. For example: in the book when Harry uses Sectumsempra against Malfoy, I was more concerned that Sectumsempra was an unexpectedly dark spell for the Half-Blood Prince, in the film I was more concerned for the welfare of Malfoy and was actually kind of glad that Sectumsempra wasn’t as extreme as it is in the book. Of all the humorous lines and magical moments, my favourite part of the film was the look on Malfoy’s face when Bellatrix all but obliterated the Great Hall.
4. Several people in this world will roll their eyes when they read the next few sentences. Why was Neville’s role so incredibly small? He was little more than an extra.
“Good luck at the game, Ron!”
“Drink, Harry?.... I didn’t get into the Slug Club, but it’s alright.”
And that was it for the wonderful Matthew Lewis and his great acting (note that there is no ~ at the end of that sentence.) They gave Luna a lot of bonus camera time though, which was nice even though sometimes she appeared only to fill in for the disregarded Tonks.
5. I fully accept the change of script in regards to the cabinet. I think that telling the audience that it was a cabinet from the beginning and exposing its purpose gradually, served as a good way to adapt this part of the story into film. By doing this we didn’t have to watch Harry trying to get into the room of requirements again and again and we had some visual stimulus to keep us guessing and thinking about what Malfoy was up to.
6. Harry and Ginny. “You’re shoelace” she says and then bends down to tie it up for him “Merry Christmas” she adds “thankyou Ginny, I’ve always wanted someone to do up my shoelace for Christmas, you must have found that Christmas list of mine I left lying around.” The pause between Ginny’s ‘Merry Christmas’ and when she leans in to kiss him was a little long and made several people in the cinema laugh.
7. And then there’s Dumbledore’s death. I can imagine Alan Rickman (Snape) spending hours in front of his bathroom mirror practising the Avada Kedavra that sends Dumbledore to his end. Holding his toothbrush at the ready and shouting the killing curse at his reflection. Unfortunately, I actually did imagine this at the moment of Dumbledore’s death, as he fell from the tower I wasn’t thinking ‘this is sad’ or ‘Michael Gambon seems to be pulling this off alright’ I was thinking ‘Alan Rickman must have tried a million different ways of saying that.’ Anyway, you’ve probably had enough of my odd little so called ‘reviews,’ but I do need to mention how nonsensical I thought it was that Harry wasn’t under his invisibility cloak and/or paralysed when Dumbledore died. The words of Dumbledore (“It is imperative that you stay hidden, Harry. Trust me”) was the only thing stopping Harry from saving his headmaster and good friends’ life. Knowing Harry (which of course I do, as I’ve met him numerous times ~) he would have tried with all his might to save Dumbledore’s life, regardless of a few words of caution and Snape saying “shh.” I think it was a fair enough decision to dispose of Dumbledore immobilising Harry, but when Snape came across Harry in hiding, it would have been a perfect moment for Snape to simply say Pertificus Totalus so that there would be no one standing in his way as he finished of what Malfoy couldn’t.
8. The credits. Who cares about the credits? I do. I was just wondering how they decide who gets to go before who in the credits at the end of the film. One at a time the names of the actors appear on the screen: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Helena Bonham Carter, some other adult actors who are barely in it including David Thewlis and then Tom Felton’s name pops up onto the screen accompanied by some other, virtually unknown, actor. Why does David Thewlis’ name get to be shown before Tom Felton’s? I’m a bit of a David Thewlis fan, so this isn’t a biased comment. Malfoy features way more than Lupin, and Tom Felton’s name wasn’t even by itself. I considered that they may show the names alphabetically after the main three, but then Thewlis wouldn’t have come before Felton. I think they show the more famous actors first. You don’t care? I didn’t expect you would.
If you’re reading this then you’re either one of my many(~) blog readers or you typed ‘Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince film review’ into Google and read so many reviews that you’ve now reached page 14 where this little blog post was waiting for you. This means you would have read a lot of other opinions and are looking for something new, if you’ve stumbled across my blog in a desperate attempt to find more things Harry Potter then you’ve also probably seen the film. So, I won’t try and hide important climax’ or sensor anything. I actually already wrote a page long review for a friend and that was only describing the first half hour, so it will be tricky to narrow this review down to an internet browser friendly length. I shall try my best:
1. If you haven’t seen the film, watch out for the Hogwarts Express. Everyone I know who has seen it didn’t notice, but the train seems to have lost its magic. In the other films the Hogwarts Express is a shiny, bright crimson, in this film it’s a faded red. It’s almost as if the film makers misplaced the old train (as trains are very easy things to lose~) and had to make do with spray painting an average train from the undergrounds of London... although the trains in London are double deckers. It was like they were amateurs trying to mimic the Hogwarts Express of the first films. Why on earth would we care about your dislike towards the new Hogwarts Express? You may ask. I might ask myself the same question.
2. Lupin and Tonks. Being the Lupin fan that I am, I was glad to find that my favourite sub plot of the book was one of the main focuses of the film ~. Throughout the book we are given clues as to why Tonks has undergone a personality change (from her optimistic, fun self to something quite the opposite.)Tonks features heavily in the novel and even shows up at Hogwarts a few times. In the end we find out that Tonks loves Lupin and has been upset because he claims he’s ‘too old, too poor and too dangerous’ for her. In the film Tonks and Lupin appear for about five minutes, within those five minutes Tonks calls him ‘sweetheart’ and we are to assume they’re together. Never mind, I’m sure we’ll see plenty of the couple in The Deathly Hallows, just as we saw plenty of Bill and Fleur in this one ~.
3. Draco Malfoy. I must say that I thought Tom Felton was the standout actor of this film, having said that I should mention that I’ve never been a fan of his (just in case you thought I was being biased), he’s always been one of my least favourite characters and I never really thought a great deal for or against Tom Felton’s acting. I wasn’t expecting a lot from him and was surprised by how much I liked Malfoy in this film. I think I’ll go as far as to say that he was better in the film than in the book. Maybe not ‘better’ but I certainly felt sorrier for him in the film. For example: in the book when Harry uses Sectumsempra against Malfoy, I was more concerned that Sectumsempra was an unexpectedly dark spell for the Half-Blood Prince, in the film I was more concerned for the welfare of Malfoy and was actually kind of glad that Sectumsempra wasn’t as extreme as it is in the book. Of all the humorous lines and magical moments, my favourite part of the film was the look on Malfoy’s face when Bellatrix all but obliterated the Great Hall.
4. Several people in this world will roll their eyes when they read the next few sentences. Why was Neville’s role so incredibly small? He was little more than an extra.
“Good luck at the game, Ron!”
“Drink, Harry?.... I didn’t get into the Slug Club, but it’s alright.”
And that was it for the wonderful Matthew Lewis and his great acting (note that there is no ~ at the end of that sentence.) They gave Luna a lot of bonus camera time though, which was nice even though sometimes she appeared only to fill in for the disregarded Tonks.
5. I fully accept the change of script in regards to the cabinet. I think that telling the audience that it was a cabinet from the beginning and exposing its purpose gradually, served as a good way to adapt this part of the story into film. By doing this we didn’t have to watch Harry trying to get into the room of requirements again and again and we had some visual stimulus to keep us guessing and thinking about what Malfoy was up to.
6. Harry and Ginny. “You’re shoelace” she says and then bends down to tie it up for him “Merry Christmas” she adds “thankyou Ginny, I’ve always wanted someone to do up my shoelace for Christmas, you must have found that Christmas list of mine I left lying around.” The pause between Ginny’s ‘Merry Christmas’ and when she leans in to kiss him was a little long and made several people in the cinema laugh.
7. And then there’s Dumbledore’s death. I can imagine Alan Rickman (Snape) spending hours in front of his bathroom mirror practising the Avada Kedavra that sends Dumbledore to his end. Holding his toothbrush at the ready and shouting the killing curse at his reflection. Unfortunately, I actually did imagine this at the moment of Dumbledore’s death, as he fell from the tower I wasn’t thinking ‘this is sad’ or ‘Michael Gambon seems to be pulling this off alright’ I was thinking ‘Alan Rickman must have tried a million different ways of saying that.’ Anyway, you’ve probably had enough of my odd little so called ‘reviews,’ but I do need to mention how nonsensical I thought it was that Harry wasn’t under his invisibility cloak and/or paralysed when Dumbledore died. The words of Dumbledore (“It is imperative that you stay hidden, Harry. Trust me”) was the only thing stopping Harry from saving his headmaster and good friends’ life. Knowing Harry (which of course I do, as I’ve met him numerous times ~) he would have tried with all his might to save Dumbledore’s life, regardless of a few words of caution and Snape saying “shh.” I think it was a fair enough decision to dispose of Dumbledore immobilising Harry, but when Snape came across Harry in hiding, it would have been a perfect moment for Snape to simply say Pertificus Totalus so that there would be no one standing in his way as he finished of what Malfoy couldn’t.
8. The credits. Who cares about the credits? I do. I was just wondering how they decide who gets to go before who in the credits at the end of the film. One at a time the names of the actors appear on the screen: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Helena Bonham Carter, some other adult actors who are barely in it including David Thewlis and then Tom Felton’s name pops up onto the screen accompanied by some other, virtually unknown, actor. Why does David Thewlis’ name get to be shown before Tom Felton’s? I’m a bit of a David Thewlis fan, so this isn’t a biased comment. Malfoy features way more than Lupin, and Tom Felton’s name wasn’t even by itself. I considered that they may show the names alphabetically after the main three, but then Thewlis wouldn’t have come before Felton. I think they show the more famous actors first. You don’t care? I didn’t expect you would.
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