“Pet peeve time: for the contingent out there who sneer at heroes like Superman and Wonder Woman and Captain America, those icons who still, at their core, represent selfless sacrifice for the greater good, and who justify their contempt by saying, oh, it’s so unrealistic, no one would ever be so noble… grow up. Seriously. Cynicism is not maturity, do not mistake the one for the other. If you truly cannot accept a story where someone does the right thing because it’s the right thing to do, that says far more about who you are than these characters.”—Greg Rucka (via unicornicopia)
“Look, I like gritty. I write gritty. There is a time and a place for gritty. I’ll take my Batman gritty, thank you, and I will acknowledge that such a portrayal means that my 11 year old has to wait before he sees The Dark Knight. But if Hollywood turns out a Superman movie that I can’t take him to? They’ve done something wrong. Superman is many, many things. Gritty he is not, something that Richard Donner certainly understood.”—
My mom sent me two emails in ALL CAPS demanding that I call her.
The first one was like “WE JUST HAD AN EARTHQUAKE AT WORK!!!!! CAN”T REACH YOU ON THE CELL AND THE 944 JUST KEPT RINGING! WORRIED ABOUT YOU!!!!” and then the second one was like “In case you didn’t get my first e-mail, we just had…
Is your mom MY MOM?
My mom is on vacation in Florida and she is e-mailing and calling the land line like every half hour.
The cat was kind of… agitated when I went upstairs to take a shower. I figured it was because she misses my mom, who is in Florida this week.
So I take my shower, and I hear a weird clanking/thudding noise. So I turn off the shower, and I figure out it’s a noise coming through the pipes, like water dripping almost. I turned the shower back on, and then suddenly THE ROOM STARTS TO SHAKE AND I was like UHHHHHHH WHAT.
So that’s my earthquake story. IT WAS ACTUALLY A PRETTY AWESOME EXPERIENCE, I’M NOT GONNA LIE.
> I light my torch and find my coat that had fallen out of my backpack before I looked in there. I notice the storm is letting up. By the time I put on my coat, the storm might let up altogether. I'm worried about my horse. I'll explore the cave later. Besides, I can't wait to dress Andrew as a cactus! So I start to run towards home.
[Ed. note - my sister said that she talked for like an hour about dressing up her brother as a cactus. Her brother wasn’t as keen on the idea.]
Sorry, you don’t own a coat. You do own a hooded cloak, but you left it at home. Oh well.
You get out the flint and light the torch. Ahh, that’s better. Now you can see so much better! The pale blue glow of the cave entrance is a nice contrast to the golden light of the torch.
You look around the cave for a few moments. You glance at the stone “waterfall” back down the tunnel, but you decide to look for the secret tunnel (and possibly explore other parts of the cave) later.
For now, you’d like to check on Silver. She knows where she lives and has galloped back to her barn on her own plenty of times before, but you really want to make sure she’s okay. And you’d love to dress up Andrew as a cactus. You’re not sure exactly sure what a cactus looks like (you’ve seen a few pictures, and you’ve heard that there are some down on the eastern slopes of Scyth Mountain), but you think you can figure something out. You giggle, imaging how goofy he will look. Hopefully he’ll let you dress him up — he’s 6 feet tall now!
You really can’t wait to try out your idea, so you head for the cave entrance. You probably won’t get hit by lightning on the way home — right? You’ll get soaked in rain, but you don’t care. You hold your torch in the cave with one hand (you don’t want the rain putting the light out!), and lean out the entrance. Sticking your head through the film of water pouring over the cave entrance, you peer through the mist.
Oh dear. It’s flooding now. There are streams of water rushing along the rock at the bottom of the ridge. It looks very dangerous, and it doesn’t seem like it will stop very soon. BOOM! Lightning just hit a tree nearby. CRACK! The lightning jolt was powerful enough to split the tree at the top! Uh oh. Creeaaaak. A large branch snaps off and falls to the ground.
You’re stunned for a few moments, when suddenly you think you hear shouting in the distance again. Except this time it sounds like it’s getting closer. You have the feeling that it’s not the good kind of shouting.
“The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pendants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.”—
“Gaston is so bad. I don’t like him. He wanted to make her marry him and he didn’t respect her at ALL.”—my 8-year old niece randomly talking about Beauty & the Beast on the phone. (She then went on to say that “My favorite movie is Rapunzel,” and went on to describe the entire plot of Tangled over the next half hour.)