Ok, giant gripe with tonight's Heroes: How the hell was Meredith able to make a speech while Claire is suffocating? I mean, really? They are in an enclosed space, Meredith all flamey and speechy. Claire is flashing back on the attack from Sylar. "I want to help people!" Yeah, yeah. "I want to hurt him!" Ah, so we get to the heart of the matter. Claire is all sweaty and gasping for air. Meredith is cool as anything and seemingly able to function without a ready supply of oxygen.
Other than that, it was a pretty decent episode. The focus was primarily on HRG and Sylar rounding up the baddies from Level 5, with a few brief forays into Claire/Meredith, Tracy, Hiro/Ando story lines. Thankfully, there was no more awkward sex with proto-fly Mohinder and Maya. Ucky.
29 September 2008
23 September 2008
On Death and Dying
I am going to preface this post by saying that I absolutely do not want bad things to happen to the ones I love. Hell, that's why they are called "loved ones", right?
I've been thinking a lot lately about the inevitability of death. I haven't quite gotten to the fatalistic point, but I'm feeling very, I don't know, laid back about the whole thing. Here's what I've got.
People die. Once we reach a certain age, we know this. Some people deal with death earlier than others, or more frequently, but at some point it greets us all. My grandpa is 93 years old and while he is in pretty good shape for a nonagenarian, I know that sooner rather than later, he is going to be gone. I will miss him but I will not rage and scream about the unfairness of it all.
OK sure, it may be easier to face the death of an old person or a terminally sick person. How would I feel if something catastrophic happened to one of my friends, or my parents? I'm not going to be specific about the fatal incident because I'm a little superstitious about that sort of thing. Anyway, something fatal happens to someone I care about. Yes, I'm sad and I cry and I wish it hadn't happened. However, if the incident in question hadn't happened, if it was thwarted in some manner, it doesn't confer immortality upon said loved one. Follow me? They are still going to die one day. This isn't to say that I wouldn't like as much time as possible with my loved ones.
Another thing I've been thinking about is how I don't think people are so much afraid of death as they are afraid of dying. It's the anticipation, the possibility of pain that frightens them. Everyone wants to go quietly in their sleep, or in some other instantaneous, pain-free way. Also, it's the idea of leaving behind unfinished things. I'll tell you something; if you're dead, it doesn't matter anymore. I don't care what it is. You. are. dead. It is the people left behind who have the tough job of it. They are the ones who have to clean up the mess and deal with the shit.
I'm sure by this point you've convinced yourself that I am an unfeeling monster who doesn't deserve loved ones. This is not true. I feel things. I also feel that it is useless to rage against something we have very little control over. That way lies ulcers.
Looking back over this I realize that it could seem like I believe in fate and predestination. I don't. I don't believe that each person is born with the day they die written down somewhere. Death is inevitable, but the method of delivery varies.
I've been thinking a lot lately about the inevitability of death. I haven't quite gotten to the fatalistic point, but I'm feeling very, I don't know, laid back about the whole thing. Here's what I've got.
People die. Once we reach a certain age, we know this. Some people deal with death earlier than others, or more frequently, but at some point it greets us all. My grandpa is 93 years old and while he is in pretty good shape for a nonagenarian, I know that sooner rather than later, he is going to be gone. I will miss him but I will not rage and scream about the unfairness of it all.
OK sure, it may be easier to face the death of an old person or a terminally sick person. How would I feel if something catastrophic happened to one of my friends, or my parents? I'm not going to be specific about the fatal incident because I'm a little superstitious about that sort of thing. Anyway, something fatal happens to someone I care about. Yes, I'm sad and I cry and I wish it hadn't happened. However, if the incident in question hadn't happened, if it was thwarted in some manner, it doesn't confer immortality upon said loved one. Follow me? They are still going to die one day. This isn't to say that I wouldn't like as much time as possible with my loved ones.
Another thing I've been thinking about is how I don't think people are so much afraid of death as they are afraid of dying. It's the anticipation, the possibility of pain that frightens them. Everyone wants to go quietly in their sleep, or in some other instantaneous, pain-free way. Also, it's the idea of leaving behind unfinished things. I'll tell you something; if you're dead, it doesn't matter anymore. I don't care what it is. You. are. dead. It is the people left behind who have the tough job of it. They are the ones who have to clean up the mess and deal with the shit.
I'm sure by this point you've convinced yourself that I am an unfeeling monster who doesn't deserve loved ones. This is not true. I feel things. I also feel that it is useless to rage against something we have very little control over. That way lies ulcers.
Looking back over this I realize that it could seem like I believe in fate and predestination. I don't. I don't believe that each person is born with the day they die written down somewhere. Death is inevitable, but the method of delivery varies.
18 September 2008
Life Was A Beach; Now It's A Bitch
Vacations are lovely. I just got back from Bethany Beach, DE and if it weren't for the fact that my car died in the Wawa parking lot, I'd still be all zoned out and relaxed.
The beach is a funny place. I used to go a lot when I was a wee'un and I loved getting buried in the sand and body-surfing. I got to eat ice cream and pancakes and play skeeball. As I got older, the beach started to have new possibilities. Namely, boys.
Now, I don't know about all of you, but I have seen lots of movies and read books where people go to the beach and magical lovely things happen. You know: boy meets girl, sparks happen, boy and girl begin tentative relationship, uh-oh! plot device to drive the couple apart, whew! it was all a misunderstanding. Kisses on the beach, fade, and done. This would be the point where I tell you that that has never happened to me.
So, regardless of my previous beachy experiences, as I drove into the first in a line of Delaware beach towns, I got all twitchy. Ooooo, the possibilities! Maybe this trip would be THE trip. Maybe I'll have the magical moment. Picture it: waves crashing, my hair perfectly tousled by the salt breeze, my cheeks nicely rosy from the sun. He is tall and bronzed and sensitive yet manly. I am the girl he has been waiting for. He cups my face in his strong hands, gazes into my eyes, and...well, you've seen the movie.
I'm sure you've figured out that this did not happen. I spent a very nice and relaxing couple of days with my parents. I read some beach-type books, ate some good food and had ice cream for lunch one day. I got a bit of a tan and managed to destress. Which was almost ruined by the fact that my car died as I was leaving Wawa earlier with my cibatta melt and iced tea. Waiting for the AAA tow truck for over an hour is a buzz kill. Much thanks goes out to my neighbor for coming out and 1) giving me a jump, and 2) hanging out with me when my car died again and giving me a ride home.
The beach is a funny place. I used to go a lot when I was a wee'un and I loved getting buried in the sand and body-surfing. I got to eat ice cream and pancakes and play skeeball. As I got older, the beach started to have new possibilities. Namely, boys.
Now, I don't know about all of you, but I have seen lots of movies and read books where people go to the beach and magical lovely things happen. You know: boy meets girl, sparks happen, boy and girl begin tentative relationship, uh-oh! plot device to drive the couple apart, whew! it was all a misunderstanding. Kisses on the beach, fade, and done. This would be the point where I tell you that that has never happened to me.
So, regardless of my previous beachy experiences, as I drove into the first in a line of Delaware beach towns, I got all twitchy. Ooooo, the possibilities! Maybe this trip would be THE trip. Maybe I'll have the magical moment. Picture it: waves crashing, my hair perfectly tousled by the salt breeze, my cheeks nicely rosy from the sun. He is tall and bronzed and sensitive yet manly. I am the girl he has been waiting for. He cups my face in his strong hands, gazes into my eyes, and...well, you've seen the movie.
I'm sure you've figured out that this did not happen. I spent a very nice and relaxing couple of days with my parents. I read some beach-type books, ate some good food and had ice cream for lunch one day. I got a bit of a tan and managed to destress. Which was almost ruined by the fact that my car died as I was leaving Wawa earlier with my cibatta melt and iced tea. Waiting for the AAA tow truck for over an hour is a buzz kill. Much thanks goes out to my neighbor for coming out and 1) giving me a jump, and 2) hanging out with me when my car died again and giving me a ride home.
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