Visit the Kelpforest (pt. 2)

My - haven't updated here in more than a year - please forgive me. That is if anyone was actually reading this. I'm thinking I should copy all of my public LJ posts over here (whereas up til now they were only picture posts), but that's a huge project, so I haven't started it.

I no longer use Compuswerve, that minion of evil AOL, so there's no longer a problem posting pictures at LJ, the reason I started this one. But I kind of like the different format here, so I think I'll keep both.

Here's Niccholas D. Wolfwood, late of Trigun, from that Bush spot. I managed to get a screen cap, although it's pretty low-resolution.




Looks like they put Yugi-oh's eyes on him. Just weird.

You can see the whole ad at the Bush/Cheney website (look under Yakuza). I don't think Wolfwood was even supposed to be Japanese. Although he was a pretty unorthodox preist...

Gurgled by: señoritafish / 11:22 PM
  0 Bubbles floated to the surface.

You are a Lazy Biznatch Neko. You like nothing
more than to curl up in a warm patch of
sunlight and sleep the day away. Quite how you
stayed awake long enough to finish this quiz is
impressive.


Which member of the Neko Hordes are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

If only I had a tail....

As I drive home along PCH, I notice there are at least a dozen ships anchored outside the harbor entrance. I've heard the Coast Guard is getting really sticky about inspecting vessels with foreign flags, but John tells me he's heard there's also an unofficial work slowdown because the harbor is allowing non-union labor. It's not quite as bad as October of a year and half ago during the labor lockout, when at least fifty were anchored along the coast, clear down to Huntington Beach, where I live.

When we went for a walk around the block last night, we found all these tiny pebbles on the sidewalk of the street at the end of the block. I noticed that the pebbles seemed to extend for a block on either side of ours. Avalon found them fascinating and was trying pickup every single one of them, a process that could've taken hours, had she not tired of it. I'm wondering if the residents are trying to discourage skateboarders. Anyway, I picked up a half cupful, and they are the prettiest shades of white, rose, peach, tan, pink and brick red, and rounded like river pebbles. Some of them are completely translucent, looking like a cloudy lens. They range from lentil to bean size and it seems a waste to just strew them over the sidewalk.

(slightly fiddled-with image)

"Did an angel whisper in your ear,
Hold you close, and take away your fear..."
- Lucinda Williams

I'm not religious. I'm agnostic at best, probably caused by an upbringing in a religion, which, for me, just didn't work, and the choice of a career path that actively encourages skepticism, if not downright disbelief without proof.

Why, then, am I so enamored with the idea of angels? They're really not even all that special a mythical (or mystical) beast. Simply take a human (or any animal, really) and add a pair of feathered wings. Big whoop. Well, I know the wings are not the most important part, and really isn't their true form, anyway.

I guess while I'm skeptical in real life, I have never had a problem with suspension of disbelief when it comes to stories. Maybe it's for this reason I saw no reason to pick holes in the science behind Darwin's Radio, although I'm sure there were some already there wide enough to walk though. Give me telepathy, talking animals, weird aliens of every shape and size, and a good story to go with it and I'm happy as a clam (what exactly makes a clam happy, anyway? The perfect texture mud to dig his foot in? The ideally shaped burrow with the optimum number and proportion of symbiotic species? Spawning season?).

"In the arms of the Angels, fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here"
-Sarah McLachlan

I guess I like the idea that they represent comfort, the easing of sorrow and pain, whether through taking the dying away from their physical bodies, or touching the living to pass support though contact. I'm not sure whether I believe in heaven, or that we become one of these creatures when we pass away, although the idea is attractive. Who wouldn't want wings and to be able to fly? The thought niggles at me that, biologically, where would all that wing musculature go? Were they real creatures, they would probably look quite different than just a human with wings sticking out of his/her back (for balance reasons, they would probably emerge at waist level instead of shoulder level, for instance).

But they make nice imagery, whether the plumage is actual or metaphorical.

I think my favorite angels are somewhat conflicted. I was compelled to look up R.A. MacAvoy's series Damiano, Damiano's Lute, and Raphael, (also sold as a single volume, Trio for Lute), thinking I'd like to reread them. Unfortunately, it seems like most of this author's books are out of print. They deal with a wizard's son, who wants nothing more than to play the lute decently. The only things he's used his powers for are to make his dog talk because he's lonely, and to call the angel Raphael to give him lessons. I wish I could remember it better, but I remember a major part of the story had to do with Raphael falling in love with a mortal woman who was also a witch, and having to make the choice to be with her or continue being a resident of heaven.



The film Wings of Desire similarly tells the story of an angel, Damiel, who after eons of merely observing, chronicling and attempting to comfort mortals, is restless and wants to interact with them. He too falls in love with a mortal woman, a circus performer, and decides he must become mortal as well. Peter Falk's character, senses his presence, and gives him some hints, before and after his transformation. It turns out he's been there. What I found charming out this movie was that as an angel, Damiel was dignified, calm, neatly attired, but as a human, is a big doofus who wears mismatched plaids, is not sure what money is worth, and who knows very little about what humans are really about. I love the opening poem:

Lied Vom Kindsein
– Peter Handke

Als das Kind Kind war,
ging es mit hängenden Armen,
wollte der Bach sei ein Fluß,
der Fluß sei ein Strom,
und diese Pfütze das Meer.

Als das Kind Kind war,
wußte es nicht, daß es Kind war,
alles war ihm beseelt,
und alle Seelen waren eins.

Song of Childhood

When the child was a child
It walked with its arms swinging,
wanted the brook to be a river,
the river to be a torrent,
and this puddle to be the sea.

When the child was a child,
it didn’t know that it was a child,
everything was soulful,
and all souls were one.

This is probably the last movie made showing the Berlin Wall, and all the artwork painted on it, still standing. Wings of Desire, which was originally in German, was remade in English as City of Angels.

There's a sequel to this film, titled Faraway, So Close. It deals with Damiel's friend Cassiel, who suddenly jumps to the same decision to save a child from an accidental death. He has a far less positive experience, coming in contact with the darker side of human existence. It's definitely not as warm and fuzzy. I remember my friend Mike telling me, "That was almost a good sequel."

Angels: God's thoughts, passing to man.
- Mary Baker Eddy, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures

Alan Rickman embodied this in Dogma, where he played the Metatron. While I only saw the version that aired on television, I loved how this angel was the Voice of God, yet was endearingly cranky and sarcastic and loved his tequila (even though he couldn't swallow it). Kevin Smith's angels are quite a bit more worldly than previously portrayed. I know there's a picture somewhere of the Metatron flipping off the camera (apparently the wings got painful after a long day of filming, and Mr. Rickman was sick of people taking his picture). (Ah, here it is, thanks to the kind folks at .)



And in Michael, one of the few movies I've actually like John Travolta in, an angel makes no bones about the fact that he's come to earth to have a good time. Most of the women in close proximity with him say he has a wonderful smell, like their favorite baked goods. He wears a dirty trenchcoat from under which the occasional feather falls, is rather unkempt, and has no problem with gorging himself, drinking and smoking. All of this makes the three people with whom he spend most of his time rather doubt his celestial origins, even though the evidence is quite often right in front of them.

Fully 78 percent of us believe in angels, which is up from 72 percent in 1994. Eighty-four percent of women believe in angels, compared with 72 percent of men... - CompuServe

Angels even show up in science fiction. Sharon Shinn's series of books, beginning with Archangel, deal with a society that has emigrated to another planet. Here, angels are real physical beings, who interbreed with humans but live apart in luxurious Eyries usually only accessible by air. Angels can actually hear the prayers of humans as they fly above their planet, and intercede if they see fit. Every so often, the archangel takes a human mate, called the Angelica. The two are supposed to raise their voices together at an annual Gloria, to inform Jovah that the world is still in harmony, otherwise it will be destroyed. Of course, angels still have an alliance with the church which is to their advantage, but one angelica discovers that the angels origins may not be as heavenly as the church lets on. It's been a while since I read these so I may be misremembering it a bit.

I just finished reading Philip Pullman's The Subtle Knife, the second book in His Dark Materials, in which angels also play a part. They are simultaneously subatomic particles, humanoid beings made of light, and architectural structures that penentrate the finest corners of the multiple universes. They are Watchers, who are compelled to act when they sense the appearance of an entity who will challenge the Authority (God). I'm not quite sure whether they mean to help 12-year-old Lyra and Will, the main characters, in their quests, or hinder them. They seem to have their own agenda, since they are intent on helping Lyra's father, who murdered her best friend in the first book, The Golden Compass. I guess I'll find out in the next book (The Amber Spyglass).

"Angels were singing,
Didn't you hear?
I wish I'd listened close
When they whispered in my ear..."
Paper Wings, Gillian Welch



Trigun's main character, Vash the Stampede, seems to be somewhat angelic as well. Whether he and his twin are immortal is not quite clear, but he's at least 150 years old and still looks like a young man. He's mortal enough to be injured and suffer anguish, quite often at his brother's hands. Like Damiel, he's also a big goof, when people aren't trying to kill him. While he seems to be a created being (and if you believe in a creator, aren't we all?), his mentor Rem refers to him and his brother as an angels who've come to help them, and he's shown with wings in the manga (whether real or imaginary). One of his most fearsome weapons is an "angel arm" capable of destroying entire cities (certainly some angels are capable of that) and putting a crater in one of the planet Gunsmoke's many moons. And yet, he's a gentle soul who likes to play with children, who constantly hits on women without much success, and has never killed anyone, even in self-defense (at least very late in the series).

As far as other anime, probably the first thing that got me interested Dragonball Z was all the guys with halos. I have a picture of Goku as an angel on my desktop at work, as well as an action figure of him with wings. I'm especially fond of it because it's the only one I've found where he's not scowling, and Goku smiles more often than he scowls.

All right, I forgot what point I was trying to make here. Maybe I didn't have one. These are just my favorite angels, and I had no idea I'd read or seen so damn many. So far.

And then there's this (thank you, Darby Conley):

Gurgled by: señoritafish / 12:32 AM
  1 Bubbles floated to the surface.

All of these were taken during the last 8 months or so. Angus took the first and last images, although I cropped them a little...

...that we had loved too well perhaps...

Bob Laughlin

Also known as Yessirree Bob, Bob-Bob-a-Ree-Bob, Bob-Not-My-Dad-Bob and Get Offa There, Ya Damn Cat.

?/1988 - 7/6/2004 11:30 pm

I know I've sent this to to some of you when you lost a pet, and you've probably seen it so often it seems trite. This time it's for myself.

In Memory of Our Cat, Ralph

When we got home, it was almost dark.
Our neighbor waited on the walk.
"I'm sorry I have bad news," he said.
"Your cat, the gray-black one, is dead.
I found him by the garage an hour ago."
"Thank you, " I said, "for letting us know."

We dug a hole in the flower bed,
The lilac bushes overhead,
Where this cat loved to lie in spring
And roll in the dirt and eat the green
Delicious first spring buds,
And laid him down and covered him up,
Wrapped in a piece of tablecloth,
Our good old cat laid in the earth.

We quickly turned and went inside
The empty house and sat and cried
Softly in the dark some tears
For that familiar voice, that fur,
That soft weight missing from our laps,
That we had loved too well perhaps
And mourned from weakness of the heart:
A childish weakness, to regard
An animal whose life is brief
With such affection and such grief.

If this is foolish, so it be.
He was good company,
And we miss his gift
Of cat affection while he lived,
The sweet shy nature
Of that graceful creature
Who gave the pleasure of himself:
The memory of our cat, Ralph.
- Garrison Keillor

We love you, Bob. We always will.

I was actually planning to go to Anime Expo today, but alas, my husband spent all the cash we had for the 4th, I don't have an ATM card right now, and the banks are closed today (since the 4th was on Sunday). Pooh. I was feeling a bit guilty about leaving Bob for that long anyway.

Bob does not seem to be in pain, but has not left the bathroom on his own since we brought him home Wednesday. That day, we brought him out in the front yard for some air, since he loved being outdoors, and the kids and I took him for one last walk around the block. He did this under his own power only a week and half ago. I carried him this time. Maybe this was for my own benefit, but he didn't protest being in my arms. Angus took this picture of us - he's becoming quite the photographer.



Since then, I've tried tempting him with fresh sardines I brought home from work, baby food, and some Nutri-Cal type paste that's supposed to stimulate appetites. The only exception was Friday night when Dad brought home some fried chicken. I set aside some small pieces and offered them to him and he actually ate them out of my hand. It was the first thing I'd seen him eat for almost a week. He is still moving around and able to use the cat box, although he's constantly getting weaker. He's always been one to keep us company in the bathroom. It breaks my heart that he is still trying to do that. We come in to use the facilities, and he comes over, lies down and puts his head on my foot. His purr, for now, is as strong as ever, and he still stretches out his neck and ears to be scratched. I want to record it. His fur is just as soft as it ever was. I try to go in every once a while and just sit with him, and pet him. He seems to enjoy it, even if he doesn't want to lay in my lap or on the bed with me.

I've tried to tell the kids. Gareth definitely gets it and he's sad, but being a trooper. Angus is vehemently in denial, which is how he usually deals with these kinds of things. I think Avalon is too little - she understands that Bob doesn't feel well, but still needs to be reminded to be gentle with him. While he was in the front yard the other day, he decided to move over and lie in the shade of the car, in the gutter. I let him, and while I checking some settings on my camera, Avalon went over and put her feet on him. Bob bit her on both heels, hard enough to draw blood - something he's never done before. But we've always told her the cats are allowed to defend themselves, and in any case, they weren't deep. I cleaned them out and bandaged her heels, and she forgave and forgot almost immediately.

I don't know if this is a good idea or not. I was thinking of an episode of the animated version of Star Trek. There was a story where Spock had to time travel to save himself as a child, when he had run away because the other Vulcan children were teasing him. When the young Spock is attacked by a le-matya, his life is saved by his pet sehlat (an animal his mother described as a 6-foot Teddy Bear...with fangs), but was mortally injured in the process. A healer tells the young Spock he is unable to save him, and he will have to make the decision to do the right thing. I was thinking of having the kids watch this to help explain what will happen with Bob, but I can't find my copy of the the tape. I was quite sure I had that one, since it was one of the better episodes.

I also don't know if they should come with to the vet. I don't know if I can handle it myself, despite what I told after she lost her dog.

I know I'm going to have to say good-bye soon. It's so hard to let go of such a dear friend.

Gurgled by: señoritafish / 7:49 PM
  0 Bubbles floated to the surface.