Mildly surprising / intriguing = There is a Dragonball movie in the works slated to be released this year.
Geekily enticing = It will be live action.
WTF Pop Culture Clash of the day = James "Spike" Marsters will be playing Lord Piccolo.
Wow. Just, wow. I am speechless. Read what you will from my silence.
Letter from our IT person at work:
"In accordance with our new company IT policy, please set up auto-archive for your Outlook so that all email older than two weeks will be saved to your C:. This will free up server power so that Exchange will process your mail faster."
"Will do. Will this archived email be backed up anywhere on the server other than locally on my C:?"
"No, but the server will be going faster."
Me (in a follow up conversation):
"So what happens if my hard drive crashes?"
Them (and this is not a paraphrase):
"...well, you're kinda screwed there. But on the plus side, the Exchange server will run faster."
It's not my own email I'm worried about. I at least know how to reroute auto-archive to my personal storage space on the server. It's people like, I don't know, the owner, or the artistic director, who won't know how to do that. Our company is now at risk of partially catastrophic data loss, and our IT manager knows it, but deems it acceptable.
Yet another chance for me to apply the new lesson I've learned in life: "Sometimes, in the world of middle management, the best course of action is to set back and let things blow up in people's faces. THEN they'll listen to you the next time you warn them of an impending expolsion."
...for apparently landing the major villain lead in the new Bond film, Quantum of Solace.
And you managed to keep it secret from us all this time, you dog.
Now I know what those gaps in your rehearsal availability for Tempest were...
It is a wonderful, glorious day, as so many of us in the livejournal community have already said so beautifully. The future lies before us, and suddenly it seems like anything is possible.
At this crucial point in history, I'm reminded of what Abraham Lincoln said during his second inaugural address, when he too faced a nation that had seen years of bitter division. He said that we had to proceed "With malice toward none, and charity to all."
Those words are especially true for us now. So while we celebrate, please remember how important it is for us to be gracious victors. The urge to mock, to 'in-your-face' some of the people who have been doing the same to us for so long may be high. It's understandable to feel swells of righteous anger and satisfaction along with our joy.
But there are good people out there who voted for McCain. Smart people who voted for McCain. People who, by admission of our own president-elect, we need in order to return America to its glory of the shining city on the hill, the beacon of hope for the world. People who do not yet trust Obama, but who *could* if given the chance.
Any unkind word, any triumphant jeer, any condemning remark made at this time will only serve to worsen the wounds many Americans are feeling today, and will make it harder for our president (and God, it feels so good to be able to say that with pride) to do what he so desperately wants to do: unite us all as one nation, one family.
Reach out. Forgive. Let go of the anger we've held onto for so long. Let it be the first sacrifice that we place on the altar of our country's good.
"Yes, Virginia, there is a Jeb Bartlett. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Jeb Bartlett. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished."
I've been waiting to be able to say that for a long, long time, and now I finally can.
So in the mail today I received the gas card that you all got for me. And discovered the actual amount that the gas card was for.
I'm truly speechless. Thank you guys. Thank you thank you thank you. Your gift, quite literally, means I won't have to eat nothing but Ramen for the next month.
Once again, even weeks after the show's closed, I'm reminded how fantastically lucky I was to have the chance to meet and work with all of you.
To quote Opus from Bloom County: "I've got the best friends in all of explored space!"
I am sick. I have the gunk in my throat and the achiness everywhere else to prove it.
In a way, I'm proud of holding this beast at bay as long as I did. Aside from a slight sniffle during Tempest, I was hale and hearty the whole way through. And truthfully, I knew this was lurking around the corner... the old black dog waiting to pounce... kept back only so long as the Faustian contract I'd made with the universe was in effect: "Let me get through the show, then do what you will..."
It's a bit of a relief, almost, now that the moment is here. I feel a bit like that elderly mariner who put to sea every day of his life, knowing that someday Mother Ocean would reach out to claim him as her own. Now that I feel her salt-brine touch first caressing my brow, there's a sense of completion, and of peace.
Your work is done, old salt... let go into the warm darkness of oblivion, and may the gentle tides washing o'er you rock you to sleep.
Sorry for having dropped off the face of the earth for many of you... once the Faire opens I'll have more spare time on my hands, hopefully... Till then, reason number 24 why you should come to the fair, "Knights riding black chargers through a wall of fire while Carmina Burana plays in the background."