Sunday, 21 March 2010

Ninja Assassin

Amazing, how having met/read/encountered Susan Sto Lat, I can barely look upon classical tale as if something rightfully wrong. Take Ninja Assassin for example. (The Rockstar toddler is visiting, hence the choice of entertainment). Classic tale. Orphan boy raised to become a ninja, rebelling against the brutal tutelage of his mysterious master only to have to deal with all the more susceptible pupils who didn't see right from wrong somewhere between nearly being murdered to being murderers themselves...
            Criminal Minds POV: HOW hard it is, exactly, to abuse a small child day in and day out and NOT create a sociopathic sympathy invalid, able to do only harm to others until, often soon, they die. Seriously. Short speeches that are suppose to make everything right because they include the words 'honor and family' and long beatings that are suppose to.. What, exactly? How is such a school for ninjas simply not a harem for a psychopath to abuse to no end a whole group of kidnapped and imprisoned preadolescents, inflicting upon them every sick form of torture the man wanted, unable to be taken seriously any other ay himself? HOW is that not beyond disturbed? If something like that happened where we could witness, a man killing children and beating them to cripplesy, just so that they'd not think before hurting others, would not exactly be called "Honor." As if "Honor", "Family" and "Blood" were something a psychopath had any right to use at all. No adult would fall for it, of course. That's why they have to be children. Poor kids fall for that kind of BS.

Am looking forward to Alice in Wonderland. The first few minutes of what I saw (Marton Csokas?? hello?!) were adorable!

Today's somewhere around the official start of spring. My once-was-best friend's birthday is also somewhere around here, but I've only ever known it's somewhere here, never down to specifics. Another amazing thing.. These people, these men, some of which were closer to me at the time than my own flesh and blood, feel SOOO distant now. I know they exist, I know they are well, but to have any desire to meet with them again? Everybody knows that following a good story for too long is never a good idea. We were young and wild once. The same rules applied to us few and as mad as they were, they made us feel grand. dDaniel may still have plowed before me, a gay prophet in his own right, but as he has become a normal person, I continue to be me. Not that I'm dissappointed or that I wouldn't wish him all this comfort, but he chose a different life and I have plenty to remember him by. After the book comes out, he won't be named again. Slowly and gradually he will drift out of my stories, which continue relentlessly and unafraid, replaced by more curiously flawed heroes. :)
      .... I really have to finish 'Heart is a hungry vampire' some day. Re-living the beginning of my affair with the General is SO warming.. :D

Funny thing indeed how a healthy relationship makes everything seem stabile. A friend just got a baby and they're calling her Ronja. I think they even read the book during labor! I've never heard ofsuch a thing and that name's just... imba :D One thing Piček's taught me above others, is that frenzied, mad adventures with hysterically erotic love-affairs are worth an entire life-time, but they tend to happen once, when we are in our fashionable prime, and they don't really last very long. It's usually enough for normal people. dDaniel's first boyfriend must have qualified. We've gone through him like a stellar storm, fading first into memory, then a dirty secret and eventually into a long-ago youth's folly. People like me, obviously, and the General, graciously, have to do a little bit better than that. We were infants once, and were wild. We were young and we were wilder. And now we're here... And it feels like we're just warming up. 
             You have to give it to the General.. Thinking about him becoming a law enforcer (his memory for faces, voices and details is absurd) isn't thinking of him as some village Officer Crabtree ('Allo'Allo, of course) but sooner a commendable agent of the Interpol. But my powers are such that I won't allow him any closer to harm's way than him being a postal engineer. Why would he have to prove himself to anyone? Being a slave to a posh job, even if it is humanitarian, takes way to much toll on one's peace of mind in the real world. I'm a woman: it's my job to keep my mad cushy and safe. Graciously.