The Wrath of Dawn: September 2009

Funny Talking Animals - Walk On The Wild Side - Episode Three Preview - BBC One

0:16 sec in

Arrr... ye be knowin' what to sing...

Pirate, pirate, pirate, pirate, pirate, pirate, pirate, pirate, pirate, pirate, pirate, pirate, PARROT!, PARROT!

Pieces of eight, eight, oh pieces of eight...

Come the rapture...

Apparently, there's no monopoly...

Eternal Earth-Bound Pets, USA
The next best thing to pet salvation in a Post Rapture World

On the plinth

Oh, those crazy Brits!

Mike's Plinth Mix by miketd

Heh

Welcome to Myopia

We now return you to the usual vapid, self-centred style of posts you've come to know and love. Or read as a form of self-flagellation. Whatever.

It is time for new glasses. Oh dear, sweet Mother o' Jaysus help me. For I am TEH BLINED and CANNOT SEE. Although! I have been informed that my distance vision is improving. Yes! I am now only common-law blind (as opposed to legally). It happens that as you age, you become more far-sighted. This, if you are blessed with 20/20 vision naturally, is a BAD thing, but if you are TEH QWEEN of MYOPIA such as I, it is good. Of course, my distance prescription is still so strong that I cannot read through it and need a reading lens, but what the heck. I'll take what I can get.

Complicating the glasses thing is the currently au courant extremely narrow frames, which I HEART with the FIERCEST OF HEARTINGS and ROCK CASBAH-like, but cannot, Dear Readers, actually see well with them, as the schmunching (it's optician-speak, trust me. I 've spent more time in optical joints than most people do sleeping)... Where was I? Oh, yes. SCHMUNCHING. The schmunching of my two prescriptions in a PROGRESSIVE lens (as opposed to a backwards lens which allows you to see into the past but is not so good for driving) into these narrow frames results in a true Coke-bottle bottom effect, i.e. you cannot see through it. Or I can't see through it. If you looked through it, you not only couldn't see through it, you would rip the glassses from your face, grab your eyes and scream, "MY EYES!" just like anyone who's looked through my glasses for the last 15 years or so. Not that I've been struggling through life with the Coke-bottle thing going on for the last two years (damn you! P*****Vision!), oh no not me. *peers at the screen*

So. Pray for me. And lead me not into Harry Potter but deliver me from Elvis (Costello).

Eight years ago today around this time, I was in the costume bank of one of the local theatres, being fitted for a hat and picking out jewellery as parts of a costume I was to wear in a musical that was opening that weekend. They had a small portable TV there and it was tuned, like nearly every other TV in North America to the events in NYC. How incredibly surreal it was to be playing dress-up while thousands of people were dying. We do mundane things every day of life while others die, but the difference was I KNEW ABOUT IT.

Immediately after that, I did what I am doing now. Home for lunch, trolling the internets. But thankfully, today I am looking for LOLZ and LMAOZ, not nervously trying to ascertain if we are on the brink of WWIII and talking myself down from full-blown panic at the thought. And for that, I am very, very grateful.

I realize that part of what made 9/11/8101 so incredibly traumatic for those of us in North America was that it's one of the very few events of its kind in living memory in this part of the world. Mostly wars and terrorist attacks have happened elsewhere. And for that I am also very, very grateful. Not that I think you would ever get used to such a thing, but I think the shock might be a bit less.

Say an extra little prayer today for those lost in NYC, near Shanksville, Pennsylvania and at the Pentagon and those who lost them, if you're the praying type.