Happy Halloweenies invisible readers! Today, I thought I'd discuss the appropriate subject of Vampyres and Vampyria--and no I'm not talking about the politicians.
No, I'm talking about the real bloodsuckers-again, I am not talking about the politicians. Now, I know they're sexy (the vampyres, not the politicians, unless you're a wayward intern) mostly because they're forbidden and because they're forbidden, they're dangerous. Who wouldn't like to be seduced, against their will (and not having to admit responsibility for their behavior!) by hypnotic eyes, lovely haunting music in the background, and their deepest passionate desires literally sucked out of them?
I admit I used to be intrigued by them as well, when I was younger. Until I read and saw "'Salem's Lot" book by Stephen King, movie by Tobe Hooper (Director) when I got personally grossed out with the super ugly head Vampire dude (bald with hideous fingers). And then, I read the book and saw excerpts from "Interview With the Vampire" which really disappointed me. It was about then that I realized being undead was creepy rather than cool. Not to mention the eternal damnation of it all.
Flicks aside, why is it teenagers and early adults find Vampyrism so delicious? I venture a few opinions and ideas:
Teenagers, yearning yet frightened by their own sexual development, find in Vampyres a safe way to deal with their hormonal floods by having someone else force them into what they secretly want (read above statements) without admitting they are engaging in scary adult behavior.
Young adult women are pretty much the same way, only instead of burgeoning sexuality, they are more interested in the romance of Vampyrism. The faint, wan, young woman, virginally asleep, drawn from her bed by a dark and seductive lover of sorts. He bites her and she is eternally his, his Vampyre wife, slavishly in love with him and forced to do his bidding. What could be more 'romantic' than that?
I'll tell ya', it's a lot less bloodletting than the current political campaigns!
The Egypsy has spoken.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Large Hadron Collider-Was Nostradamus right?
Honestly, don't we have enough problems here on Earth? There so many ways we can destroy ourselves, ESPECIALLY with any type of nuclear energy (and I ain't talkin' about electrical sockets) do we really need to be bothered worrying about being sucked into a black hole? Is this all the physicists have to do--just go around thinking of ways they can make more problems? I completely failed to locate the exact REASON for this procedure--apparently, these physicists are seeking the "GOD PARTICLE". I only have ONE question:
WHY?
Is this going to cure pancreatic cancer? Is it going to stop drought and famine on the planet? Is it going to restore our abused natural world to its pristine original? Will it provide an antidote to the Ebola virus? Will it stop the AIDS epidemic?
So what is the point of this exercise? Tell me if you know. Oh, and while you're at it, why don't you give me the price tag on this overblown science class experiment?
I have to laugh out loud over the 'irony' of it all (just like most of you I am using that word incorrectly). People freak over the fact that Nostradamus predicted nothing after the year 2012 and believe it portends the end of the world. Gee, kinda looks like we may achieve that a little earlier if this Hadron collider surprises us. Rather like all those killer bees that accidentally escaped South America and have attacked and killed several people on their exodus to North America. Particle smasher or killer bees. One has the potential to escape our control and the other already has. Will we suck ourselves into a black hole of hell? I don't know.
All I can tell you is that if you're so inclined, make your peace with your Creator now. See ya' on Friday--maybe.
The Egypsy has spoken
WHY?
Is this going to cure pancreatic cancer? Is it going to stop drought and famine on the planet? Is it going to restore our abused natural world to its pristine original? Will it provide an antidote to the Ebola virus? Will it stop the AIDS epidemic?
So what is the point of this exercise? Tell me if you know. Oh, and while you're at it, why don't you give me the price tag on this overblown science class experiment?
I have to laugh out loud over the 'irony' of it all (just like most of you I am using that word incorrectly). People freak over the fact that Nostradamus predicted nothing after the year 2012 and believe it portends the end of the world. Gee, kinda looks like we may achieve that a little earlier if this Hadron collider surprises us. Rather like all those killer bees that accidentally escaped South America and have attacked and killed several people on their exodus to North America. Particle smasher or killer bees. One has the potential to escape our control and the other already has. Will we suck ourselves into a black hole of hell? I don't know.
All I can tell you is that if you're so inclined, make your peace with your Creator now. See ya' on Friday--maybe.
The Egypsy has spoken
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Rantings and Revelations
Good or not-so-good morning. It's nine a.m. in the city of angels and I've got a bone to pick on. Actually, a couple of them.
First off, let me get this huge monkey off my chest: Is it just me or are all of the NOW women being just a bit hypocritical in taking offense at Sarah Palin? I mean, I thought the idea was to empower women-ALL WOMEN-to be able to do anything they want. Come on, I grew up in the late 1960's-70's and all I heard was "women don't make as much money as men" and "women can do anything as well as men and should be given complete EQUALITY and the same freedom as men". So, at long last they have gotten exactly what they've been screeching for, and now they're upset about it. Sarah Palin is a woman, mother, governor, mayor, all-round politician, and vice presidential candidate. What? Are they upset she has kids AND a stellar political career? Uh, exsqueeze me, but isn't that the whole point of the exercise? I was under the apparently mistaken impression that ANY woman should have the COMPLETE RIGHT to live her life and carry out her career in any way she sees fit, mother or no, pro-choice or no. And, speaking of pro-CHOICE, the operative word here being CHOICE--whether the CHOICE is Pro-life or Pro-choice--the WORD here people is, again, CHOICE. If a woman chooses to have 27 children, then that is her right to choose--by the same token, if a women chooses to have innumerable abortions, then that is her right to choose.
Either way, you cannot exclude one choice for another. Either the choices are both acceptable or they are not. What's good for the Pro-Life goose is good for the Pro-Choice goose, like it or not. (And yes, I intended to put two "goose's" instead of a gander, the latter reference being male.) Either we have complete freedom of choice or we don't. Ugh. Politics. It all sucks eggs.
If you haven't muttered "a**hole" under your breath by now, here's another section and topic for my rants and revelations today: writers' inhumanity to writers.
I don't know if any of you belong to any Internet groups out there so if you have no idea what I am talking about, feel free to click yourself out of here. For those of you who do...
Writers have swarmed the world wide web, myself included. We blog and blog and blog ourselves ragged, then we join groups to announce our bloggings. While I think this is absolutely wonderful, there is a little habit that irritates me to no end. Writers ignore other writers' blogs. We just don't read 'em. Whether it's lack of time, lack of professional courtesy, or the ever-present egomaniacal mentality of "I can do better than that" I can give no solid opinion, since I admit I've done this myself.
However, every so often, I force myself to leave me and go visit someone else's site. I try to at least leave a comment every time, time permitting. Now, if I, the most self-absorbed bit of human flesh to ever crawl the Earth, can step out and attempt to be kind, I would love to experience some reciprocation.
But I don't. Usually, I don't even get acknowledgement that I've commented at all, let alone a reciprocal visit to my blogsites. Now I know people are busy. I know they all have lives and I also know they're busting their buns to promote their work any way they can. So am I. But if a writer can respond to a long collection of group posts with at least three 'Yes I do" or "I agree with you" responses, it means they've perused the other posts and taken time to give even a one-word response.
So, what's the problem? Most of my posts are not pages and pages long. I try to get out the point in the most concise way possible. And yet, despite all of the new post announcements and listing my links on every group possible, no one bothers to visit. Hell, at this point, I'd be happy with a 'screw you' comment. At least I'd know someone reads what I've bothered to write. Ah, but no. We're all so busy writing about being writers,that we don't read those same writings. Talk about a conundrum.
Speaking of conundrums, it's time for my breakfast. Cold cereal or something hot? Milk or coffee?(coffee) Denver omelette or breakfast burrito? Ha! Fooled ya'! I don't even eat breakfast.
I'm through now. Through begging people to visit my sites. Through trying to find some sanity in the political theatre. Through pretending I eat breakfast. I'm through.
The Egypsy has spoken.
First off, let me get this huge monkey off my chest: Is it just me or are all of the NOW women being just a bit hypocritical in taking offense at Sarah Palin? I mean, I thought the idea was to empower women-ALL WOMEN-to be able to do anything they want. Come on, I grew up in the late 1960's-70's and all I heard was "women don't make as much money as men" and "women can do anything as well as men and should be given complete EQUALITY and the same freedom as men". So, at long last they have gotten exactly what they've been screeching for, and now they're upset about it. Sarah Palin is a woman, mother, governor, mayor, all-round politician, and vice presidential candidate. What? Are they upset she has kids AND a stellar political career? Uh, exsqueeze me, but isn't that the whole point of the exercise? I was under the apparently mistaken impression that ANY woman should have the COMPLETE RIGHT to live her life and carry out her career in any way she sees fit, mother or no, pro-choice or no. And, speaking of pro-CHOICE, the operative word here being CHOICE--whether the CHOICE is Pro-life or Pro-choice--the WORD here people is, again, CHOICE. If a woman chooses to have 27 children, then that is her right to choose--by the same token, if a women chooses to have innumerable abortions, then that is her right to choose.
Either way, you cannot exclude one choice for another. Either the choices are both acceptable or they are not. What's good for the Pro-Life goose is good for the Pro-Choice goose, like it or not. (And yes, I intended to put two "goose's" instead of a gander, the latter reference being male.) Either we have complete freedom of choice or we don't. Ugh. Politics. It all sucks eggs.
If you haven't muttered "a**hole" under your breath by now, here's another section and topic for my rants and revelations today: writers' inhumanity to writers.
I don't know if any of you belong to any Internet groups out there so if you have no idea what I am talking about, feel free to click yourself out of here. For those of you who do...
Writers have swarmed the world wide web, myself included. We blog and blog and blog ourselves ragged, then we join groups to announce our bloggings. While I think this is absolutely wonderful, there is a little habit that irritates me to no end. Writers ignore other writers' blogs. We just don't read 'em. Whether it's lack of time, lack of professional courtesy, or the ever-present egomaniacal mentality of "I can do better than that" I can give no solid opinion, since I admit I've done this myself.
However, every so often, I force myself to leave me and go visit someone else's site. I try to at least leave a comment every time, time permitting. Now, if I, the most self-absorbed bit of human flesh to ever crawl the Earth, can step out and attempt to be kind, I would love to experience some reciprocation.
But I don't. Usually, I don't even get acknowledgement that I've commented at all, let alone a reciprocal visit to my blogsites. Now I know people are busy. I know they all have lives and I also know they're busting their buns to promote their work any way they can. So am I. But if a writer can respond to a long collection of group posts with at least three 'Yes I do" or "I agree with you" responses, it means they've perused the other posts and taken time to give even a one-word response.
So, what's the problem? Most of my posts are not pages and pages long. I try to get out the point in the most concise way possible. And yet, despite all of the new post announcements and listing my links on every group possible, no one bothers to visit. Hell, at this point, I'd be happy with a 'screw you' comment. At least I'd know someone reads what I've bothered to write. Ah, but no. We're all so busy writing about being writers,that we don't read those same writings. Talk about a conundrum.
Speaking of conundrums, it's time for my breakfast. Cold cereal or something hot? Milk or coffee?(coffee) Denver omelette or breakfast burrito? Ha! Fooled ya'! I don't even eat breakfast.
I'm through now. Through begging people to visit my sites. Through trying to find some sanity in the political theatre. Through pretending I eat breakfast. I'm through.
The Egypsy has spoken.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Melancholy Musings.
Hello, Darlings.
Have you ever had one of those days? Weeks? Years? Decades? What do you do other than obsess over it with paranoia and deep breathing? I don't know why but the pattern for me has been that the last two years of a decade are the most upsetting, turbulent, traumatic. And yet, there is something bittersweet about the ending of a decade. You aren't quite at the end, but you're definitely not at the beginning. And for me, it's a time to look back not only of the decade past but of other decades past. This being 2008 for some reason brings back memories of 1968. Perhaps it is because that was an emotionally forming year for me and also a traumatic one. For some inexplicable reason, I think back on the music I listened to, the artwork I did, the interim school friends I hung out with. I miss them, not that they were my best friends, but they were there during that small, short year of development between middle school (nee' junior high) and high school; between childhood and adulthood. I only remember one of the girls' names, Sammy, and she had this great little room in her house (my grandmother had one in her house too--must have been a quirk in Craftsman houses back then) where a few pop posters were hung and a stereo system was set up. There was a small couch, big pillows and if I recall correctly, at least one beanbag chair. I only recall one conversation ("When Crimson & Clover came on the radio, and it started to reverberate the vocals, my dad thought something was wrong with his radio!") but as we lounged around the room listening to music, we had deeper conversations about life and what was important in it. I remember feeling deep emotions actually growing inside me although they were not sad ones, again only bittersweet. Somehow I knew, that even when I left these girls, for different schools and friends and interests, that I was developing in more ways than physical. I remember those few days as sweet. We connected deeply, somehow someway knowing that this was a momentary convergence and would end once our immediate needs were met and then we would disperse into what would become our lives. So, as I look forward with much trepidation, I also look back with much longing for those simple and deep times where I found a place to grow a part of myself.
I thank Sammy and those girls wherever they are and hope that in some small second they remember me with the same feelings. They probably don't even remember my name or of being there at all. Doesn't matter. I remember them and I think that is what matters most--they touched me, my life, my future. I thank them all and wish them the best for the next decade.
All right, I will stop with the melancholy musings and get on with my life.
Thanks for listening. And, oh, I would love to hear your stories too!
The Egypsy Has Spoken.
Have you ever had one of those days? Weeks? Years? Decades? What do you do other than obsess over it with paranoia and deep breathing? I don't know why but the pattern for me has been that the last two years of a decade are the most upsetting, turbulent, traumatic. And yet, there is something bittersweet about the ending of a decade. You aren't quite at the end, but you're definitely not at the beginning. And for me, it's a time to look back not only of the decade past but of other decades past. This being 2008 for some reason brings back memories of 1968. Perhaps it is because that was an emotionally forming year for me and also a traumatic one. For some inexplicable reason, I think back on the music I listened to, the artwork I did, the interim school friends I hung out with. I miss them, not that they were my best friends, but they were there during that small, short year of development between middle school (nee' junior high) and high school; between childhood and adulthood. I only remember one of the girls' names, Sammy, and she had this great little room in her house (my grandmother had one in her house too--must have been a quirk in Craftsman houses back then) where a few pop posters were hung and a stereo system was set up. There was a small couch, big pillows and if I recall correctly, at least one beanbag chair. I only recall one conversation ("When Crimson & Clover came on the radio, and it started to reverberate the vocals, my dad thought something was wrong with his radio!") but as we lounged around the room listening to music, we had deeper conversations about life and what was important in it. I remember feeling deep emotions actually growing inside me although they were not sad ones, again only bittersweet. Somehow I knew, that even when I left these girls, for different schools and friends and interests, that I was developing in more ways than physical. I remember those few days as sweet. We connected deeply, somehow someway knowing that this was a momentary convergence and would end once our immediate needs were met and then we would disperse into what would become our lives. So, as I look forward with much trepidation, I also look back with much longing for those simple and deep times where I found a place to grow a part of myself.
I thank Sammy and those girls wherever they are and hope that in some small second they remember me with the same feelings. They probably don't even remember my name or of being there at all. Doesn't matter. I remember them and I think that is what matters most--they touched me, my life, my future. I thank them all and wish them the best for the next decade.
All right, I will stop with the melancholy musings and get on with my life.
Thanks for listening. And, oh, I would love to hear your stories too!
The Egypsy Has Spoken.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Numero Uno
First off, welcome my friends, real or imaginary.
Second, come on Media! It's Brangelina, not The Immaculate Conception!
Well, now I've either alienated you completely or made a fan of you. Your choice, as always. And, am I alone in thinking "Mamma Mia" is on the slightly skanky side?
"It's about everything good!" gushes Meryl Streep. Not knowing which of three men is the father of your child ranks as 'good'? Now, granted, I have not seen this film/broadwayshow/whatever so this is only my impression but truthfully, I hesitate, if not downright recoil, from plunking down money for this set of on-screen shenanigans. If you see it, let me know.
However, this blog is not about my Hollywood opinions. At this point I'm not even sure what it will be about. I'm thinkin' a sort of rambling, bitchy kind of vent about the general condition of this particular world. Don't know. Maybe I never will. More likely, you never will.
In any case, I had to post something to keep this little bitty ditty alive, so go ahead, do your worst.
The Egypsy Has Spoken.
Second, come on Media! It's Brangelina, not The Immaculate Conception!
Well, now I've either alienated you completely or made a fan of you. Your choice, as always. And, am I alone in thinking "Mamma Mia" is on the slightly skanky side?
"It's about everything good!" gushes Meryl Streep. Not knowing which of three men is the father of your child ranks as 'good'? Now, granted, I have not seen this film/broadwayshow/whatever so this is only my impression but truthfully, I hesitate, if not downright recoil, from plunking down money for this set of on-screen shenanigans. If you see it, let me know.
However, this blog is not about my Hollywood opinions. At this point I'm not even sure what it will be about. I'm thinkin' a sort of rambling, bitchy kind of vent about the general condition of this particular world. Don't know. Maybe I never will. More likely, you never will.
In any case, I had to post something to keep this little bitty ditty alive, so go ahead, do your worst.
The Egypsy Has Spoken.
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