urbanamazon: (Maji - Joy)
[personal profile] urbanamazon
No picture of the day today. Instead, I come bearing this:

The only words that come to mind are a rather geekily enthusiastic 'Hells yeaaaaaah!'

Complete with accompanying hand gestures.

And... okay, maybe 'Opening weekend, motherfucker', too.

There are crazy, crazy and scary things happening in the world. There are things that I have no control over, no power over, and sometimes all I am reduced to is hoping that things work out favorably for all. It makes me feel very small.

Which is why I like the escapism of these genres... and even though I've never lived in a place where I could participate, or never had the money to go to a con, or have had to put priority in trying to make my own life function, I love seeing things like these movies and stories start spilling out and playfully blurring the borders of reality. I love the illusion of fantasy and its escapism, and I love it when the illusion gets pushed a little further... because it makes me believe that such wonder just might... just might be out there, just beyond my reach.

I might turn the corner tomorrow and see it with my own eyes, a bit of magic.

Sometime believing in the possibility of that magic makes the world less scary, less terrifying. Sometimes it makes the world feel bigger and you feel small, but only so you can realize just how much real wonderment is out there, waiting for you... and things might work out okay.

(no subject)

Date: 2011-03-14 03:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wickedorin.livejournal.com
I'm always two seconds away from making "Opening weekend, motherfucker" my voice mail greeting. I'll bet it cuts down on pretty much all calls. I could put it to music and make it a ringtone, hm...

Lunatic question, I know, but are you familiar with MYST? (I feel so strangely old, asking that.) Every so often I'm thrown back to the time where, for one heart-stopping moment, there was a linking book in the middle of the road in the rain. It doesn't matter that it turned out to be a perfect little rectangle of wood when it was picked up; for one second it was a linking book, and the possibility of opening it up and going to a mysterious connected world was absolutely beyond description.

Strangely, there never was disappointment in finding that it was wood. There exists the possibility that it really wasn't at some point, I suppose. Or I'm just one hell of an optimist.

(no subject)

Date: 2011-03-14 06:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kouryou.livejournal.com
Oh god, that interview. Firmly entrenching Michael Sheen in my mind as a dirty, dirty man.

See, my familiarity with MYST only really extends to the point of knowing what kind of a game it was, and I think owning one of the novels that I've never got around to reading. Everything I've ever heard about it indicates I should get off my ass, though.

My habit of blurring reality with some of my favorite stories is an old and unavoidable one. Let's just say I was unavoidably nervous for the month of August 1997. I tend to blame one of my uncles nicknaming me 'Sarah Connor', always pronounced in Schwarzenegger monotone.

(no subject)

Date: 2011-03-15 03:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wickedorin.livejournal.com
I'm always glad to see someone who also has the "anything and everything can be made terribly dirty" syndrome who is actually successful. ...Not that there's any reason behind that of course, ha ha. Ha. Ahem.

Should you ever want them, I have MYST and Riven sitting next to me looking for good homes amid a large pile of random software. Of course, they're both the original versions, so I have no idea how much pain it would take to get them to work on modern computers. I have Vista. Vista is not compatible with Vista. (And there's the understanding that you'd probably want to get to know me better before giving your address out, yeah. *grin*)

Terminator 2 is one of those movies that I can watch anytime, from any point, and enjoy thoroughly. But then my memory is pathetic and recalling anything about 1997 is nearly impossible.


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