July 4th, 2003

anime night

I have really wonderful people in my life.

And not just because they are so good at reassuring me about how wonderful and capable i am.
There's the wind and the rain, and the mercy of the fallen,
Who say they have no claim to know what's right.
There's the weak and the strong and the beds that have no answer,
And that's where I may rest my head tonight.

I saw all the bright people, in imposing flocks they landed, and they got what they demanded,
And they scratched at the ground. Then they flew, and the field grew as sweetly for the flightless,
Who had longing yet despite this, they could hear every sound.

There's the wind and the rain, and the mercy of the fallen,
Who say they have no claim to know what's right.
There's the weak and the strong and the beds that have no answer,
And that's where I may rest my head tonight.

...

There's the wind and the rain, and the mercy of the fallen,
Who say they have no claim to know what's right.
There's the weak and the strong and the many stars that guide us,
We have some of them inside us.
I neglected to mention that the last time i talked to Terry about my trip he talked, in that way that people do, about me meeting a nice French boy while i'm over there, "or a nice French girl" he added. [I didn't ask why the Brits weren't deemed worthy of my romantic intentions.] Can i tell you how happy the absolute blasé-ness of that statement made me? Especially from him.

Sharon, i wish you could see the birthday card the Mankins gave me. On the front is a woman in this wild purple getup (which is what first drew Cheryl to the card, purple being my favorite color, plus the whole "When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple" thing) and it says, "Someone like you makes this world a better place!" Then on the inside it says "Weirder... but better! Happy Birthday"

A woman i adore has breast cancer. My impression is that it's fairly contained, operable, hasn't spread. But still. Terry sometimes looks vulnerable and it's terribly precious, but she seemed, more than vulnerable, fragile. Like underneath she was breaking apart. She said to me, "Say a few prayers, if you pray. And if you don't... i don't know... do a good deed for someone else. Maybe that counts. I don't know what counts anymore." I find myself wanting to make her a prayer bracelet, light candles at every shine i can find in England. It's not that i fear she's going to die, or that i think the way to make God intervene is to pay homage to every incarnation/intercessionary which might be a true one. I don't know. I think i have this desperate feeling inside me, because i can't DO anything. It's helplessness that drives us to God, no?

We can do no great things, only small things with great love.
-Mother Teresa
Daddy was a soldier he taught me about freedom
Peace and all the great things that we take advantage of
Once I fed the homeless, I'll never forget
The look upon their faces as I treated them with respect
And
This is my Vietnam
-Pink, "My Vietnam"
evil hand

raging about the end of The Mill on the Floss

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It's your fire, it's your soul, you shouldn't have to go. (Dar Williams, "Your Fire Your Soul")

To have taken ****** by the hand and said, ‘I will not believe unproved evil of you: my lips shall not utter it; my ears shall be closed against it. I, too, am an erring mortal, liable to stumble, apt to come short of my most earnest efforts. Your lot has been harder than mine, your temptation greater. Let us help each other to stand and walk without more falling’ – to have done this would have demanded courage, deep pity, self-knowledge, generous trust – would have demanded a mind that tasted no piquancy in evil-speaking, that felt no self-exaltation in condemning, that cheated itself with no large words into the belief that life can have any moral end, any high religion, which excludes the striving after perfect truth, justice, and love towards the individual men and women who come across our own path.
-George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss
"A book is a version of the world. If you do not like it, ignore it; or offer your own version in return."
-Salman Rushdie
‘Character’ – says Novalis, in one of his questionable aphorisms – ‘character is destiny.’ But not the whole of our destiny. Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, was speculative and irresolute, and we have a great tragedy in consequence. But if his father had lived to a good old age, and his uncle had died an early death, we can conceive Hamlet’s having married Ophelia and got through life with a reputation of sanity notwithstanding many soliloquies, and some moody sarcasms towards the fair daughter of Polonius, to say nothing of the frankest incivility to his father-in-law.
-George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss