It’s funny (funny sad, not funny haha) how I can simultaneously feel both smart and stooopid. I’m reading Leaves of Grass and have come to “O Captain! my Captain!”. I feel like an idiot because I didn’t know this was written by Walt Whitman, nor did I know any of the poem past that opener. I feel quite brilliant though because now I can say with pride that I know who wrote it and that I have actually READ the damn poem. Woot.

O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
by: Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up - for you the flag is flung - for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

The Lamplighter is a crime novel set in Edinburgh, circa 1866. The characters are reminiscent of a Sherlock Holmes story, and reading about streets and destinations that I’ve been to really drew me into the story. Throw in a little philosophy and a dash of the supernatural and you have a book that is just plain fun to read.

for anybody who has “owned” a dog—this is a happy and heart wrenching read. Marley reminded me so much of our passed dogs (Sadie and Braxton) that I both laughed and sobbed as I scrolled through the pages (pdf version on my laptop). For those who have never had a dog in their life, this book goes a long way towards explaining the, um, inexplicable attachment people get for their dogs.

From imdb trivia: “This was one of the first major productions filmed in Paramount’s then new Astoria Long Island studios. Opened in 1919 the studios underwent a major soundproofing renovation when talkies arrived in 1929.”

I really like how the older movies (this one made in 1920) rely on facial expressions and body-language (instead of dialogue) for great storytelling.

This is my kind of horror story—rather more a suspense thriller than a grotesque bloodbath. The story is one we are all familiar with, but it was fascinating to watch it acted out in that original manner.

It’s also bizarre to think at the technological progress. In 1920 you couldn’t make a movie with actor voices but just (nearly) 100 years after the movie was made, here I was watching it from the comfort of bed after simply downloading it from the library onto my laptop. Now that’s spooky.

from page 238
“The tears we shed in our sleep are the only genuine tears we shed in our lives. The waking tears are self-pity.”

I knew this was an older flick, just didn’t know it was a silent one (really Gertie, you didn’t know a 1925 movie would be silent?). There IS music,which is quite nice, and the basic dialogue is displayed on title cards. As a hard-of-hearing individual used to reading subtitles, having a short sentence onscreen for an average of 10 seconds is a loooong time. Also, due to the age of this thing, the sound (music) quality goes in and out a bit.

Despite all that, I found this a hoot to watch. Lon Chaney was fabulous, and his makeup still caused a twinge of discomfort (versus actual horror) when his face is unmasked. Although I adore the songs provided in later productions of The Phantom, I have to say that this version is now my favorite.

an excerpt:
“We may be powerless to alter certain events, but we remain free to choose our attitude towards them, and it is in our spontaneous acceptance of necessity that we find our distinctive freedom.”

normally I wouldn’t deliberately choose a piece of fiction about a young widow, but I’m glad I did. This book had a lot of humour, and was a nice read.

Tonight I received some personal news that although not devastating, it did make my lower lip pop in and out AND it made me call my mother. I was feeling sorry for myself, and decided to sit down and watch this video that I had downloaded from the library. Less than one minute later I became painfully aware of the minuteness of my woes, and another minute later I felt uplifted by this amazing story.

This is the story of a small town class project focused towards teaching tolerance. The kids were learning about the holocaust victims but couldn’t grasp the enormity of six million people. In doing some research, they discovered that during WWII many people in Norway wore paper clips on their lapels as a symbolic protest against the Nazis.

The kids decide to collect six million paperclips to represent those killed in the holocaust. And so begins the Paper Clips Project. They receive letters and paperclips from famous actors, politicians, German school kids, and families of survivors. They get to meet survivors and hear their stories.

There is more to the story, but I don’t want to “spoil” it for you. Its a powerful documentary, one that I think is a must see.

page 577
“Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat. Our fate is to beome one, and yet many—This is not prophecy, but description.”