inklingfair I may have made a grievous mistake last night. I wrote a letter that I never ought to have sent, but it was honest and heartfelt, and frankly it had to be written. Now, after that tiny bout with backsliding, I’m a bit more happy with myself because of a number of fannish news items I had missed out on due to living under the relationship rock:
1. Apparently, Ser Jorah Mormont also plays an unscrupulous newsman in Downton Abbey. I was rewarding myself with the DA Christmas episode, but only half paying attention when suddenly Jorah’s voice floated into the ether, saying something sneery about charades. And there he was, Sir Richard Carlisle. (random unrelated squee: Robert Carlyle, I love you and your ugly grey countenance and wicked Rumpelstiltskin chuckle)
2. Star Trek sequel with the lovely Mr. Cumberbatch. I don’t care if he’s not a Vulcan, though what a waste of fine angular facial features, J.J. Abrams.
3. The Hobbit finished filming. YES. And some time ago, Martin Freeman reportedly made a comment about Bilbo having sex. Oh Martin. You’ll learn.
4. The Apollo-Dionysus dichotomy. Story of my life. So four years ago I was Apollo, now I’m Dionysus? Go me. (This is related to the letter I wrote last night, except last night I still had some Apollo in me. But thanks to Nietzsche, that’s over.)
5. The cat is dead. What a lark. /BBT Schrodinger reference: more fun without the repeat storytelling.
Last week he took Shelob. I knew in my heart I wasn’t a spider girl. I knew in my heart he’d be a great dad. But what if I’m GINK? Also, I felt for the poor crickets and worms and tiny frogs. It’s awful being a mom to a vicious predator.
I’m watching the 10th and 25th Les Miz concerts side by side. Philip Quast got the disheveled crazy fugitive hunter hair down pat, but I will always love Norm Lewis’ confrontation scene. Also, he was Triton to Sierra Boggess’ Ariel. And his dream role is the Phantom. Cameron Mackintosh, DO IT.
Photo by Tamara Gore on Unsplash
