First off, I'd like to take this opportunity to remind every citizen of the US who is of age and eligible to register to vote. If you won't be in your area on election day, register to vote absentee. Just to remember, we live in what's pretty much a democracy. (Sort of a democracy. Sort of a republic. Trust me, I've heard of people expound on this. I won't.) Remember, as Shaw said, “Democracy is a device that insures we shall be governed no better than we deserve.” Or, more to the point, to quote H.L. Mencken, "Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want and deserve to get it good and hard." So, let's vote people. Register, and vote!
Moving on...
I wanted to share two pieces of video phenomenon.
First: Positive Pranking.
I'd like to help this concept spread, and I've already got some wonderful plans to positive prank my local area. Hope you can spread the love in your area. :-)
Also: A new concept -- A Book.
I've recently received the One Lovely Blog Award from Carolyn Snow Abiad. Thanks so much for thinking of me, Carolyn.
Rules:
Acknowledge the blogger who gave it to you
Pass it on to 15 bloggers you have recently met.
My list comes in no particular order, but I'd highly advise checking 'em out.
I recently saw an absolutely fabulous production of Cymbeline by Mr. William Shakespeare. I loved it. (Please, pause while I take a moment to relive the Theater-Induced-Ecstasy. Okay, I'm back now.)
One thing that struck me during the production was the director's reinterpretation of the play'sDeus Ex Machina elements (For my thoughts on Deus Ex Machina, you can click here). While the script called for the chorus of the play to call on Jupiter to alter the fates of the characters and ensure a happy ending, in this version the exposition was given over to a narrator and 'twas to her that the chorus appealed for a happier end.
The narrator attempted to justify the pain of the characters, but when handed a pen by the member of the chorus, she conceded and rewrote the end to a happier one. The audience rejoiced.
I loved this interpretation. It struck me, as a writer, and put me to think of the power that the writer has over the events of the story. Indeed, Shakespeare could have elected a tragic end to the tale, for there was enough sadness it in, but instead it was quite happy, and the audience laughed and cheered for the main characters.
We, as writers, are powerful beings. We create these worlds before us in our stories, create peoples and animals strange to us, and create the past, present, and future as we see fit. We are the gods of these new worlds, even if our characters cannot plead with us, in person, at least, for a different end than the one we choose to give them.
Okay, while I was in Orlando, I did the coolest thing I have ever done in my life so far. (This either means that I'm young, that my life is boring, or that this really was as cool as I think it was. So far, no consensus.) I say so far in the optimistic hope that I'll do other things equally or more amazing, but it was astounding.
Okay, see that couch -- yes, the one behind/under John Lennon. They have that couch in the room in the Lennon room at the Hard Rock Cafe in Orlando. I got to sit on it during the tour.
Yes, some might not think this is cool, but I think people who think that are wrong. To quote Joey, our tour guide, "If you don't know who John Lennon is, not only should you be shot, but you probably think it's not as cool." Yeah, it's that cool.
Today, my biology class had an unofficial party to celebrate Darwin's 200th Birthday. You know why? Because he was important. All controversy aside, what he did mattered. Do you know how I know? Because 200 years after he was born, we still talk about his ideas. Even the things he said that we now know to be incorrect are remembered, because he said them. Isn't that incredible? People today all seem to be striving for 15 minutes of fame. (yes, even me. I blog and hope people will read it.) People tell the world about their affairs, childhoods, and dreams in the hope of eking out two more minutes of someone else's time. Almost none of us will ever achieve the kind of lasting fame that we secretly crave. But he did. 200 years ago, he was born. He's long dead. Yet, we still remember him. That's fame. That's making a difference. That's amazing.
I am a closet writer easily identifiable by the presence of multiple pens or pencils stuck in my hair. I can often be found in unusual places posing (unsuccessfully) as a normal person.
