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Neil Gaiman's Graveyard Book

The Graveyard Book

Neil Gaiman

A riff off of Rudyard Kipling's Jungle Book, this is a middle grade reader sort of book that I really enjoyed. It doesn't have the torturous language or moralism of Kipling's 1897 book, but it does have the structure: stories within a story building up to the finale. Parts of the story seem to have been kept deliberately shallow. It may be that I don't judge the audience very well; since the Girl Unit isn't home I don't have her opinion to help guide me. As an adult reader I found myself thinking that he hadn't gone into more detail with one thing or another because its a middle grade reader. A middle grade reader might notice the lack of detail and feel talked down to, though.

Looking at the (very few in number) poor reviews on Amazon.com (I like to see what people didn't like about books that I like, I find it educational), the things that other people seemed to find most upsetting was a middle grade reader starting with a bloody murder and the supposed lack of happy ending. The ending is not unhappy and ends very much like Jungle Book. The story has ended well, but the boy's story is in many ways just beginning. We don't really need to know what happened to him after this. Chances are he finished growing up, became a tax accountant and now has 3 kids, a dog and an odd penchant for ouija boards.

The whole "how dare he start a book for children with murder?" crowd simply mystifies me. I've no clue what they've been reading or what reality they've been living in, but golly, everything from Snow White on up has that sort of stuff. Unless you're going to keep your kids reading Teddy Ruxpin flip out books for their entire lives, they *are* going to come across some unhappy scenes in literature.

If you don't mind reading middle grade readers, I highly recommend Graveyard Book to anyone.

Hooping- Finding Healing in the Hoop

Keep Breathing - Finding Healing In The Hoop from Lissa Angeline on Vimeo.

9th Circut Court of Appeals Says Pharmacists Can't Refuse Plan B

The three 9th Circuit judges found common ground despite differing outlooks: Two conservatives named to the court by President George W. Bush and a liberal named by President Clinton made up the panel.

The right to freely exercise one's religion "does not relieve an individual of the obligation to comply with a valid and neutral law of general applicability," the 9th Circuit panel wrote.

"Any refusal to dispense -- regardless of whether it is motivated by religion, morals, conscience, ethics, discriminatory prejudices, or personal distaste for a patient -- violates the rules," the panel said.

This is a great but fragile victory for women's rights. If you're a pharmacist and you don't want to dispense legal medications because of your religious beliefs, QUIT YOUR JOB and get one that doesn't require you to be a compassionate, non-judgmental person.

Allowing pharmacists to be religious bigots at work over Plan B could have lead to pharmacists refusing to dispense any other number of meds not even related to birth control. Anyone needing anything from psychiatric meds to insulin could have eventually found themselves in a position of not being able to get their prescriptions filled because of religious bigots refusing to do the job they signed on for.

Human rights win! I'm praying that it holds.

The Night Witches

Meklin

, Gold Star Hero of The Soviet Union
Soviet Era WWII Combat Pilot

Probably I should have put up Marina Raskova, the leader of the Witches, instead of Myeklin. I think that Myeklin was the youngest of the Witches, though with the exception of Raskova, they were all very young women when they joined the Soviet 588th fighter group. The Soviets had two all woman bomber squadrons and a squadron of all woman fighter pilots, as well as 2,000 women snipers in the field in World War II. In the cases of the air squadrons, every single member down to the mechanics were women.

The Nachthexen flew Polikarpov Po-2s, wood and canvas biplanes that didn't even have guns, on their bombing raids. It's easy to jump to the conclusion that they gave the women the bad planes because they were women, but the truth of the matter is that the Soviets were desperate to put anything that could fly into the air when Stalin's non-aggression pact with Hitler failed. The Witches flew over 23,000 sorties in their outmoded and fragile planes, sometimes flying 18 bombing runs in a night. Like all the Soviet military, they took terrible losses during the war.

There were also Soviet lady snipers who parachuted in behind enemy lines with their male comrades. 3/4 of the female snipers were killed in action; some were caught, tortured and killed by the enemy. Fear of capture led many of the women pilots to refuse to carry parachutes, prefering to die in a crash rather than end up in enemy hands.

It would have probably been better to put up a picture of Marina Raskova, the organizer of the women bombing units and commander of the 588th. From what I can tell, Raskova was made of nuclear-enhanced titanium willpower. Once, when she and two of her women pilots were going for a non-stop distance record, she jettisoned herself into the wilds of Siberia when their plane's wings started icing up. She lived to tell that tale, and was KIA on a bombing run in the war.

The women fighter pilots of the 586th flew over 4,000 sorties. A great many of them were also KIA. We don't know the names of Lilya Litvyak and her sister pilots any more than we know Raskova or Myeklin, because, I think, the powers that be do not like to bring up the specter of successful women in combat.

Some Friends asked why I knew about the Russian women pilots. I'm interested in Russian History, though mostly the earlier eras. I'm interested in female pilots because my elementary school nurse was a retired WWII test pilot, a WASP. She was a quiet, kind and amazingly strong woman. And also, although I don't look like a feminist, I am a feminist. Those Commie women kicked ass and didn't bother to take names. Whatever else was wrong with the Soviet Union (lots and lots and LOTS), they did for a while get this one thing right. While the women of the RAF the USAF were consigned to positions for "freeing up men for combat", the Russian women were doing whatever they were able to do.

Why is this relevant in 2009? Because in 2009 we still have people saying that although modern military equipment has "leveled the playing field", women don't belong in the pilot's seat. Tell that to the Witches in their PPo2s, or to the Soviet women aviatrixes who flew planes initially thought to be "too hard" for a woman to fly. Because in 2009, we have revisionist Historians saying that the women of the Soviet armed services were all just a bunch of pretty faces for publicity shots, not real soldiers or pilots or cosmonauts. If I can make even the one person who was bored enough to read all the way to the end of this post aware how courageous these women were, and how many of them were KIA defending their country alongside their men, then my job here is done.

Maybe the ghosts of the Nachthexen will go haunt the skeptics. :-)

Go See Some More Soviet Flying Ladies

Cantebury Tales ala LOLCat

The Son Unit recently read Canterbury Tales. For his Canterbury Tales activity, he translated The Prioress's Tale into LoLCat. Why the Prioress's tale? Because the singing zombie boy thing really weirded him out. Why LoLCat? Because it's ridiculous and anti-Semitic piece and we felt it deserved to be made fun of. ETA: I realize that a lot of scholarly work has been done on the subject of anti-Semitism in The Prioress's Tale. Son Unit is 14, so for the moment we're pretty much taking it at face value. We might talk about authorial intent later, but at the moment we're mostly exploring the satire angle.

Teh proiress tale: tranzlatd
Tranzlashun by Son Unit.

Her begins teh priores tale: in Asia, in large city populatd mainly by Christianz, thar wuz Jewry establishd by lord ov teh land 4 evil purposez ov usury an excesiv gain, which r hateful 2 christ an his peeps. Wan wuz able 2 ride or walk rite thru dis ghetto, 4 it wuz open an unlockd at eithr end. Lil skool 4 Christianz stood at teh farthr end, attendd by lotz da children ov christian dessent, hoo yer aftr yer lernd in dat skool such teachings as wuz needd in dis land; dat iz, 2 sing an 2 read, as small children r accustomd 2 do.

Among thees children thar wuz widows son, lil choirboy 7 yeers old, hoo dai aftr dai attendd teh skool; an he had been taught teh habit , whenevr he saw an image ov christs mommy as he went on his wai, ov kneelin down an repeatin his ave maria. Teh widow had thus instructd her lil son always 2 worship r blesd lady, Christs dear mommy, an he nevr forgot, 4 happeh children lern vry quickly. Whenevr i recall dis situashun, St. Nicholas seems 2 stand before me, 4 he as child did reverence 2 christ.

Dis lil boi, studyin his small book as he sat in da skool wif his primr, herd teh othr children singin teh alma redemptoris as they wuz taught frum their anthem-book. As soon as he dard, he crept closr an closr 2 them, an listend closely 2 teh werdz an teh music til he knew teh furst verse by hart. He did not understand wut teh latin meant, 4 he wuz 2 young an 2 tendr ov an age. But wan dai he beggd schoolmate 2 explain dis song 2 him in his own language, or 2 tell him 4 wut purpose dis song wuz usd. Lotz da tiems on his bare kneez he beggd his comrade 2 explain dis an mak it clear 2 him.

His schoolmate, hoo wuz oldr than he, anzwerd in dis fashion: "dis song, so i has herd, wuz made 4 r blesd, generous lady, 2 salute her, an also 2 pray her always 2 be r halp an succor when we dye. I cant explain dis mattr any bettr; i doez lern 2 sing, but i no knoe mutch grammar."

"Den dis song wuz made in reverence ov christs mommy?" askd teh innosent boi. "nao, certainly, i shall werk mah hardest 2 memorize it all before christmas iz ovar. Though i cud be punishd 4 not lernin mah primr, an even cud be beaten 3 tiems in wan hour, im goin 2 lern it in honor ov r lady!"

Dai aftr dai his schoolmate secretly taught him as they went home frum skool, til he knew teh whole song by hart. Den he sang it clearly an well, werd by werd in keepin wif teh music. Twice dai it filld his throat: as he went 2 skool, an as he returnd home. His complete attenshun wuz fixd on Christs mommy. As i has sed, dis lil boi, when he pasd thru teh Jewry, goin bak an forth, wud regularly sing o alma redemptoris happily an loudly. Teh sweetnes ov Christs mommy had so piercd his hart dat in ordr 2 pray 2 her he cud not choose but 2 sing 2 her as he walkd along.

Teh fuzzy evil, basement kat, r primal enemy, hoo has his wasps nest in Jewish hearts, swelld wif angr an sed, "oh, Hebrew peeps, alas! Iz dis ting which iz worthy ov u, dat such boi shall go along as he pleasez, spitin u by singin song which doez dishonor 2 ur religion?"
Frum dat tiem on, teh Jews plottd 2 rid teh earth ov dis innosent child. Consequently they hird murderr, hoo had hidin place in da alley. An as teh boi walkd by thar, dis cursd Jew grabbd him, held him tightly, cut his throat, an threw him in pit. Threw him, i say, into privy, wer thees cursd Jews emptid their bowels. Oh, cursd peeps ov herod, born again, how can ur evil intenshun halp u? Murdr will out-- it nevr fails., especially wer Ceilin Cats glory shall thereby spread. Teh blood criez out against ur cursd act.

Oh, martyr, confirmd in virginity, nao cud u sing forevr in da company ov teh wite lamb celestial--sed teh priores--concernin whom teh great evengelist St. John wrote in Patmos. He sed dat dose hoo nevr experience women in da flesh go before dis lamb an sing song evr new.

Teh poor widow waitd all dat nite 4 her lil child, but he did not return. Therefore, as soon as it wuz dailight, she sought him at skool an elsewhere, her face pale wif fear an her thoughts busy. Finally, she wuz able 2 lern dat he wuz last seen in da Jewry. Her boob full ov mommys sorrow, an half out ov her mind, she visietd evry spot wer she thot thar wuz any likelihood ov findin her lil child. An steadily she crid out 2 Christs mommy meek an kind, hoo at last causd her 2 seek him among teh cursd Jews. She askd an beggd pitifully evry Jew hoo livd in dat place 2 tell her if her child had pasd thru thar. They told her "no"; but aftr tiem Jebus-kat in his grace so guidd her dat she call out 2 her son frum spot near wer he wuz thrown into teh pit.
Oh, great Ceiling Cat, whose praize iz effectd thru teh mouths ov innosents, herein we c ur mite! Dis gem ov chastity, dis emerald, an also teh bright ruby ov martyrdom, lyin thar upright wif cut throat, began 2 sing alma redemptoris so loudly dat teh entire place resoundd. Teh Christian peeps pasin thru teh street gatherd 2 marvel at dis fact, an sent at once 4 da provost. He came immediately without delay, an praisd Christ, teh King ov heaven, an also his mommy, teh glory ov mankind. Aftr dat, he had all teh Jews imprisond.

Teh child wuz taken up wif piteous lamentashun, steadily singin his song, an, honor him wif great proceshun, teh peeps carrid him into teh nearby abbey. His mommy lay faintin beside teh bir; scarcely cud teh peeps lead dis second rachel frum his side.

Without los ov tiem teh provost had all teh Jews slain hoo knew ov dis murdr, wif torchur an shameful death 4 each. He wud not tolerates such evil-doin. “evul shall has wut evul deservez." therefore he had them drawn by wild horsez, an afterwordz he hangd them accordin 2 law.

Teh innosent child lay on his bir before teh high altr while mas lastd. Den teh abbot an his convent hastend 2 bury him quickly. When they cast holy watr upon him, he still spoke; when they sprinkld him wif holy watr, he still sang o alma redemptoris mater.

Teh abbot, hoo wuz holy man--as monkz r, or else shud be--began 2 implore teh young buy an sed, "Oh, dear child, i beg u, by virtue ov teh holy trinity, tell me how u r able 2 sing when in mah jugdement ur throat iz cut?"

"Mah throat iz cut 2 teh bone," sed teh boi, "an accordin 2 nachural law i shud inded has did sum tiem ago. But jebus-kat, as u cud find written, wishez dat his glory shall last an shall be rememberd; 4 da honor ov his dear mommy im still able 2 sing o alma loudly an clearly. Dis well ov mercy, Christs sweet mommy, i always lovd accordin 2 mah ability. When it happend dat i lost mah life, she came 2 me an bade me 2 sing dis song even as i did, as u has herd me do. An when i began 2 sing, it seemd dat she placd kernel upon mah tongue. Therefore i sing, an must sing, in honor ov dat blesd, generous maid til teh kernel iz taken frum mah tongue. Latr she spoke thus 2 me: mah lil child, i shall come 4 u when teh kernel iz taken frum ur tongue. Be not afraid; i shall not forsaek u"

Dis holy monk--i refr 2 teh abbot--drew forth teh bois tongue an liftd off da kernel. Den his spirit left him peacefully. When teh abbot beheld dis miracle, his salty tears trickld liek rane. He fell down prostrate upon teh ground an lay as still as if he had been tid thar. Teh convent lay also weepin upon teh pavement, praisin Christs dear mommy. Latr they rose an went out bearin dis martyr frum his bir. They placd his small sweet body in tomb ov clear marble. Thar he remains nao--Ceiling Cat grant dat we meet him!

Oh, young Hugh ov Lincoln, also slain by cursd Jews--as iz well known, since it happend not long ago--pray 4 us hoo r unstable sinful folk, dat in his mercy teh merciful Ceiling Cat shall multiply his mercy upon us, in reverence ov his mommy Mary. Amen. Her endz teh Prioress tale.

Eyeballs bleeding yet?

:P

Memorial Day

When I was growing up, every Memorial Day most of the people in my hometown went to the cemetary to put flowers on their departed friends and family graves. Memorial Day was originally enacted as a national day to honor our fallen war dead (previously known as Decoration Day, to honor those who died in the U.S. Civil War).

My town seemed to have misread the memo. Everyone decorated all their relatives and friends' graves, no matter when or from what causes they had passed on. War hero graves and the graves of veterans got little American flags along with the flowers, or poppies from the older folks. Other graves got mums and roses, lilies and daisies or bouquets of the favorite flowers of the deceased. The cemeteries were blanketed in flowers.

I grew up in a very conservative western state, which makes the liberal explosion of flowers even more mystifying. I don't know how these people, some of whom once walked out on one of my high school choir concerts because we sang a medley of songs by "that commie hippie" (known as John Lennon to most of you), decided en masse that Memorial Day wasn't big enough. But they did, and the day became a day of solemn remembrance for all our departed. Most of us never set foot in the cemetery any other day of the year, except for the kids who risked going straight to hell for playing baseball on the huge section of immaculately mowed grass reserved for future graves. On Memorial Day, we were rounded up and taken out to the cometary to visit graves. It always felt like church to me.

Occasionally an outsider would move in and complain about this catholic application of Memorial Day tribute. One year it was a teacher. We were instructed to go home and inform our parents that Memorial Day was for war heroes, not random dead relatives. Like the teacher who had us sing commie hippie music, that teacher was not invited to return the following year. My mother, my foster mother, my friends' mothers all said the same thing: "This is what we do. We remember our dead. It doesn't matter how they got that way. What matters is that we remember them." Occasionally we would go to the grave of someone we didn't know at all, because, our mothers said, they remembered the people who had remembered those graves, but the rememberers themselves had passed on. They would lay flowers and remember someone by proxy in honor of those who had remembered them before.

And so this is my hometown's personal Day of the Dead. If you have deceased loved ones, and especially if they fell in war, they remember them today for you. I will remember too.

3 Play

3 Play

I just watched an interesting little movie, 3 Play. It's not often that we see menage a trois movies that are about the relationship instead of the sex, and when we do, it's usually portrayed in a very negative way like in The Duchess or End of Innocence. This movie has the triading of a female bi-sexual couple and the man they both love. That they're a Latina/o threesome makes it a bit different from usual Hollywood fare. The threesome gets a HEA, along with a semi-thoughtful exploration of some of the problems and joys of triadic relationships.

Poly friendly movies are a rare thing indeed. Thinking back, I could only come up with one and a half, or maybe they should each count as one half. First was the Substitute Wife, a movie starring Lea Thompson as a dying prairie wife who recruits one of the local girls from the brothel (played by an aging, amazing Farrah Fawcett) to be her replacement wife. The husband falls in love with the replacement wife, the original wife rallies for a bit and they get along as a threesome for a bit, but then the original wife conveniently relapses and dies to let the new couple have their two person happily ever after.

Vicky Christina Barcelona, which came out last year, also has an almost functioning triad with Christina, her artist lover and his crazy ex-wife. But it all ends in tears and gunshot wounds, suggesting that such things might work for a while, but ultimately, it's just a phase that young people pass through.

I'm looking forward to Edge of Love, which holds out some possibility of portraying triadic relationships in some other light than porno or mentally ill.

3 Play is not the best made film around and it definitely suffered in its forays into pseudo-documentary style, but overall I liked it. I'd like to see a triad relationship movie that was three relatively straight people who get along, or two bisexual guys and the woman they love. Probably going to be waiting a bit on those. :)

A Tale of Two Movies

Poverty, True Love, Overcoming Extreme Odds, Reaching your Dreams, Getting the Girl. . .

How many times have you seen/read that story?

People complain about predictability all the time. It's a sad fact of life, if you're over 25 you probably know every story. Hell, if you were alert as a child, you knew every story before you finished puberty. Many successful writers handing out free advice to noob writers on the internets say something like: "It's not how original your story is, it's how brilliantly you tell it!" That's true, up to a point. Then come politics, fashion and audience caprice. My cases in point are two movies with the exact same themes stated above:

Slumdog Millionaire, winner of 8 Oscars

Zack and Miri make a Porno, winner-- not so much

I can hear the howls of indignation already. Slumdog Millionaire is, after all, a beautifully filmed and told story, full of social relevance, with an uplifting ending. Zack and Miri is embarrassing, crass, and full of snarky social commentary. How can I dare to compare them? *Points to Above* Because they're the same story. Because both of them are brilliant, even though they're both desperately predictable if you've been alive for more than a decade or two. Neither of these movies is Bladerunner (beautifully filmed, full of social relevance and snarky social commentary, groundbreaking in too many ways to count, not very predictable), but they're both really good movies. They both also rely on a lot of Deux ex Machina.

Really. The chaiwalla just happens to know the answers because of circumstance and occasionally dumb luck. Zack and Miri are both helped and hindered by extreme and capricious fate. You can see these moments coming in both movies as though they were semi-tractor trailer rigs pulling double trailers bearing down on you, horns blowing and lights flashing. But the way these moments are executed are so masterful that you're left with that all important element of surprise even so.

Both movies wrap up in ways that are upbeat, popular ways to end this sort of story. The Deux ex Machina gets turned off so that the heroes have to win their ending, making for more satisfying conclusions.

So why did one movie win eight Academy Awards, and the other gets regularly panned as predictable, even though it's less predictable than the winner? I suspect here is where politics, fashion and puritanism come in.

Slumdog Millionaire

Slumdog Millionare is set in a setting (India) and addressing issues (sex slave trade, caste discrimination) that are current pet issues with the left (traditionally the political inclination of artistic types), while simultaneously producing a story that's palatable to the the political right-- likable boy rescues tragic girl, sex is bad, sweet as cotton candy true love forever and ever happily ever after.

Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2-Disc Edition)

Zack and Miri is set in Yankeeland with characters that you alternately love and despise and has both a sex positive message (only acceptable to freaks on the far left) and a bunch of send-ups for everyone, spoofing the concept of childhood sweethearts, gay romance, racism in porn, the extremes of chasing the American Dream and a bunch of other things too numerous to mention. It probably has something to offend pretty much everyone on the planet. It's excellent Burlesque.

I recommend Slumdog Millionare to anyone and everyone. Zack and Miri, however, I'm more careful about. You have to be either an oblivious observer who likes porny stuff or someone who is really smart and groovy to get this film. And that may be the other reason, beyond the politics, fashion and puritanism that Zack and Miri is problematic. It's not an easy movie. Slumdog is easy. People *like* easy. I guess this means if you want a bestseller on the NYT list or a hit movie, you should go for predictable, easy, fashionable and yet with enough vision and sparkle to keep your audience surprised. Not an easy recipe!

I'll be over in the other corner, enjoying the "hard" stories. ;)

Happy Earth Day

Care2 has a challenge for Earth Day (Earth Week for them, because they like to live large):

1) Give up all single use drink bottles. (Bottled water, sodas, etc.)
2) Not use paper or plastic shopping bags. Instead, bring your own canvas bags.
3) Save electricity by cutting back TV to an hour a day and turning the thermostat down by two degrees.
4) Replace two car trips with walking, biking or public transportation.
5) Go vegetarian.

Hmmm.
1) We've already been working on this one. We have a stack of refillable soda cups for when we want soda, and refillable water bottles. We're not at 100%, but we're close. We could probably make 100% for this week with ease.

2) Except when we leave the #^!&ing bags at home by accident, we've been doing this one for a long while.

3) My a/c doesn't go on until the temp goes over 84F. And 84F with the high humidity here is not 84F up north, so you only get bragging rights about not turning on your a/c EVAH if you live in a similarly wet climate. :P So anyhow, check.

4) The ritzar takes the bus to work more than 2 mornings a week right now, and will be for the foreseeable future. Check again.

5) This is really problematic. We just spent 40 days being vegetarian for Lent. My kids might murder me if I tried to get another week out of them. I have been thinking serious thoughts about cutting down on the number of meat dishes we eat year round, but there's no way my family will agree to going vegetarian all the time, and vegan is right out.

QotD

"We have a choice in how we live our lives," he said. "You wake up every single day and have a choice as living as a victim or a victor. When you choose to be a victor, you have so much more positive impact on how people view you and the way you want to live your life."

~~Patrick Ireland, the "Boy in the Window" at the 1999 Columbine, Colorado mass school shootings, on why he forgave the boys who shot him.~~