HAPPY THANKSGIVING Y'ALL

go eat turkey and cranberry sauce!

and give thanks with a grateful heart :)

:: back and there again ::

hahahaha. I slay me.

my job (tea parlor, remember?) is going amazingly well, and it's great. fantastic. wonderful. stupendous. I mean, next week I have to dress up like a princess. what's not to like?? 

*ahem*. however well my job is going, it's taking a lot of my time (really because I'm still in training), so I'm shamefully neglecting these writing responsibilities. like, last night, instead of posting something -- I got home, took a bath, and watched roman holiday.

yeah, I like gregory peck better than you. who doesn't. (that's a rhetorical statement: one to which the answer is obvious.)
   I have nothing more of real value and content to say. ...happy thanksgiving! may you always dress like a princess. 
   seriously, it's ridiculous how much I'm looking forward to that. 

:: the hot zone ::

ever heard of marburg? well, it's a virus, and until I read the hot zone by richard preston, I hadn't either. here's an excerpt explaining it. 

"Marburg is one of a family of viruses known as the filoviruses. Marburg was the first filovirus to be discovered. The word filovirus is Latin and means 'thread virus.' The filoviruses look alike, as if they are sisters, and they resemble no other virus on earth. ... In Germany, the effects of the Marburg virus on the brain were particularly frightening, and resembled the effects of rabies: the virus somehow damaged the central nervous system and could destroy the brain, as does rabies."

also, marburg kills one out of four people who get it. 

creepy, huh? 

surprisingly, the hot zone isn't about marburg, but a specific outbreak of another virus, a new, previously undiscovered "sister" strain. 

"Marburg was the mildest of the three filovirus sisters. The worst of them was Ebola Zaire. The kill rate in humans infected with Ebola Zaire is nine out of ten. Ninety percent of the people who come down with Ebola Zaire die of it. Ebola Zaire is a slate wiper in humans."

so what happens when a man from the african wilderness goes to the big city for treatment, crashes and bleeds out in a roomful of people -- with a deadly virus that is airborne and untreatable? or when a shipment of monkeys arrives in washington, d.c. and begin to die and people don't find out it's a strain of ebola until too late? what do you do? (well, we're all alive now, so nothing too bad could have happened, but the possibilities are terrifying.)

   the hot zone is about both the scientific and personal sides of the contraction of these viruses. richard preston covers the stories of several inside people; well-known victims, first-hand witnesses, and one man who actually survived, layering science and facts with objective viewpoints and a pretty fast-paced narration.
   beginning with the first in a train of victims, he describes "charles monet" as he gets ebola and dies of it. the rest of the book follows nancy and jerry jaax -- a married couple in a biological unit of the army -- and their part of the mid-80s outbreak, interspersed with other sides of the story: who and what led to the culmination of it all at the reston monkey house, and the scientific dangers and political undercurrents swirling around that final "hot zone". at the climax, a level 4 biohazard operation is kicked into effect as monkeys are dying, covered in blood, and... we couldn't stop it. 
  quite the book to read at midnight.
  richard preston's short, terse sentences add a lot of tension to the storytelling. the interspersed scientific facts really helped me understand the underlying causes (as far as we know them) and added a layer of horror, since this actually happened, and actually does scary things to people. it's not just some what-if fantasy story: we really don't know how it spreads -- though it appears to spread in every way possible, from blood to breathing -- nor do we know how to stop it, since we don't even really know how it does what it does.
   it is a riveting book.

as far as warnings go... there is some language. not a lot, but it's definitely there. neither is this a book for the squeamish: there are some graphic descriptions of what the virus does to the human body (if you can't handle the wikipedia page on vomito negro, don't even start this book. an [uncredited] excerpt is here, if you're still unsure). fascinating, but gross. 
   the hot zone might inspire nightmares and fears of worldwide pandemics. it might inspire disgust and horror. it might inspire relief, or a fear of airsickness bags forevermore. if you're courageous enough to read about all the horrific things this parasitic virus does to the animal called homo sapiens, be prepared to be awestruck that such variety exists in our world and for thoughts of, "what would I do if that were me?"
   and enjoy the ride. it's not every day that you can come into contact with such fascinating, deadly diseases, nor the realization that modern science doesn't always have the answers. 
   yes, it must have originated from somewhere in kitum cave; but where? how does it spread? and... what would we do if it came back? 

:: another word ::

conglobe:  to assume a globular shape; to form into a ball
     verb, from latin: con + glob (us) sphere + are,  infinitive ending

pronunciation: ...seriously? (con-globe). yep.

"Darkness profound covered the Abyss; but on the watery calm, His brooding wings the Spirit of God outspread, and vital virtue infused and vital warmth, throughout the fluid mass; but downward purged the black, tartareous, cold, infernal dregs adverse to life: then founded, then conglobed like things to like; the rest to several place disparted, and between spun out the air, and Earth self-balanced on her centre hung."
     john milton 

:: I've got da, da, da inside my head ::

my sister reread a tree grows in brooklyn the other day. she reads that book about fifty times a year, I think.
   she was thoroughly disgusted by the idea of a movie, and in talking it over with me, came up with a fantastic idea. well, wait: she was disgusted by the idea of a movie directed by anyone other than us (I'm sure you have those). we thought it would be a hoot to dream-cast ATGIB, and it was fun -- though discouraging: no one alive is stupendous enough to play neeley, I swear -- but her fantastic idea was the music.
   every good movie needs an even better soundtrack. truth probably universally acknowledged. ATGIB is great for music because 1. music is such a huge part of the book; 2. early 20th-century music is still familiar today -- and accessible; 3a. its several 'title tracks', if you will, are perfect for background music; 3b. also for adding symbolism and layers to the storytelling. (besides, how can you go wrong with "molly malone"?)   
   we got so into this that we actually made a song playlist on grooveshark ("for francie" :') ) which we listen to when we feel especially like thinking about neeley and ben and... well, yeah, neeley and ben. which is frequently. heh.

here is our fantastic song list. we have it dramatically arranged elsewhere (duplicates for plot climaxes, and cetera), but I've cut it to the short and sweet. my posts tend to drag on for too long, anyway :)

- "molly malone" (emerald isle ensemble)
- "sweet adeline" (weezer)
- "annie laurie" (john mcdermott)
- "when irish eyes are smiling" (bing crosby)
- "sidewalks of new york" (joe newman)
- "you're a grand old flag" 
- "o holy night" (andy williams)
- "molly malone" (dubliners)
- "annie laurie" (phil coulter)
- "I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier" (bill carrothers)
- "auld lang syne" (scottish fiddle orchestra)
- "silent night" (brian culbertson) 
- "when you wore a tulip" (alex welsh)
- "I'm sorry I made you cry" (frank sinatra)
- "k-k-katy" 
- "mother machree" (101 strings orchestra)
- "till we meet again" (doris day)
- "my wild irish rose" (the starlite singers)

we actually included another version of "molly malone" at the end, but I'm not sure who performed it. (if you, too, want to experience ATGIB in music, follow this list and add your favorite version on the end.)

my hair is in dire need of a wash. that's also just an excuse for me to end this post, because I've run out of factual and on-topic things to discuss. 

*abrupt end*  

:: in which, I get a life ::

I've seriously been posting like a crazy person for the past, like, two weeks. because I was focusing on oliver twist there was enough material for me to write like heck and I can't resist posting when I have a ready-to-go draft just sitting there under my 'posts' tab; but this is all going to change.
   why? I got a job.
   yes, a job. please pick your jaw up off the floor.
this isn't going to significantly cut down on the time I have to read/blather about what I read, I'm pretty sure, but I'll be pretty tired so my posts will probably become less frequent. ...although I just got home from my first day (at ze tea parlor! woo!) about an hour ago, and here I am, so who knows.

a really great book I just read last week, if anyone is interested: the shuttle, by frances hodgson burnett (also wrote secret garden and a little princess). it's got an american heroine and a british hero (OH YEAH) -- kind of your typical turn-of-the-century story in some ways, with the all-capable woman who has strength of character and purpose, an evil villain who is seemingly unstoppable, and lots of really sappy unliterary parts that are essentially fluff (it's like woman in white for kids).
   I am so comfortable with myself that I can admit I read fluff sometimes for the sheer fun-ness of it all. okay? and this is sweet fluff. not like cotton candy, which has zippo nutritional value; no, this is like cracker jack because it is sweet, has some nutritional value (POPCORN IS GOOD FOR YOU LA LA LA LA I'M NOT LISTENING), and a little prize hidden in the box. ...that last one doesn't exactly count. the shuttle is kinda... predictable.
   oh, and this is also a small box of cracker jack. the kind that you pig out on, finish in an embarrassingly short amount of time, and then realize if you had any more you'd probably throw up. ...was that too graphic?

anyway, it was totally enjoyable. it really speaks to that "if I were a millionaire I would go around sprinkling wealth on the poverty-stricken and grateful" wish that resides in my heart. I lived vicariously through bettina vanderpoel and was happy, until the end when I had to stop.
   *sighs for hard lot in life
   also, it's available free through gutenberg.org, if you're interested.

well, I'm going to see our town performed tonight, so I need to go get ready.
   hm. five-thirty here in kentucky. -- you get a good rest, too. good night.

:: and what happened after (chs. 52-53) ::

truth be told, the last two chapters of oliver twist seem like an epilogue to me. the wrap-up is really in the few chapters before (see last post. I have reasons for my titles), and these last two are just and-here's-what-happened-to-everyone-after-they-calmed-down-a-little.
 
chapter fifty-two is called "the jew's last night alive"; well, um, yeah. that pretty well sums it up.
   I know it could seem like why do we care what happened to fagin at his trial? he's going to die for his crimes, and that's good, but so what? I also know I was going to try to read this as if it were my first time; but you know, that's so hard and I kept seeing new things in the book all because it was my second time through. ...sooooo, knowing the essentials of the chapter meant I could focus more on the writing (which is amazing and descriptive and powerful and I loved it!). it really brings together the themes of dark versus light that -- I realized -- have been there throughout the book.
   yes: the 'darkness as death/life and goodness as light' idea is painfully obvious and I would look smart and literary if I picked something a little more subtle. life/death, light/dark... original, right? this isn't one of those 'universal' themes you find in, like, every good book, you know? you've never read any other books with those themes going on, have you? *coughcough heartofdarkness lordoftherings crimeandpunishment coughcough* nope! didn't think so!
   however, universal doesn't have to mean trite and clichéd and stupid; I mean, it's universal, so we can all obviously relate in some way, or such international writers wouldn't pick up on it by themselves (polish joseph conrad, english j.r.r. tolkien, russian fyodor dostoevsky). 
   
   some very general outworkings of this theme that I noticed: 
   most of the evil that occurs is done under the cover of darkness. when sikes kills nancy, he tries to get away from the light -- "[The sun] lighted up the room where the murdered woman lay. It did. He tried to shut it out, bit it would stream in. If the sight had been a ghastly one in the dull morning, what was it, now, in all that brilliant light!" oliver, when recovering from his injury at the housebreaking, recoups in the spring and summer; all things are "glad and flourishing" and the countryside is "steeped in sunshine". now, fagin is condemned to death, and he both longs for and dreads the light: longs, because the dark is oppressive, evil -- but the light means he is all the closer to death.

        To be hanged by the neck, till he was dead -- that was the end. To be hanged by the neck till he was dead. As it came on very dark, he began to think of all the men he had known who had died upon the scaffold; some of them through his means. They rose up, in such quick succession, that he could hardly count them. ... Some of them might have inhabited that very cell -- sat upon that very spot. It was very dark; why didn't they bring a light? The cell had been built for many years. Scores of men must have passed their last hours there. It was like sitting in a vault strewed with dead bodies -- the cap, the noose, the pinioned arms, the faces that he knew, even beneath that hideous veil -- Light, light! ... [several pages omitted] ... Day was dawning when they again emerged. A great multitude had already assembled; the windows were filled with people, smoking and playing cards to beguile the time; the crowd were pushing, quarrelling, and joking. Everything told of life and animation, but one dark cluster of objects in the centre of it all -- the black stage, the cross-beam, the rope, and all the hideous apparatus of death.

chapter fifty-three: in which everyone lives happily ever after but the bad guys. hooray!
   one note on charley bates's new leaf: I was all for him when he tries to turn sikes in. if I don't think about it too hard, it doesn't seem utterly sudden, unexpected, and out of character (quite as it would be if it were the artful, or something).
   and everyone else is exactly what you'd think. 

        It is a standing and very favourite joke, for Mr. Brownlow to rally [Mr. Grimwig] on his old prophecy concerning Oliver, and to remind him of the night on which they sat, with the watch between them, waiting his return; but Mr. Grimwig contends that he was right in the main, and, in proof thereof, remarks that Oliver did not come back, after all: which always calls forth a laugh on his side, and increases his good humor.

so we come to the last pages of oliver twist. 

        I have said that they were truly happy; and without strong affection, and humanity of heart, and gratitude to that Being whose code is Mercy, and whose great attribute is Benevolence to all things that breathe, true happiness can never be attained.