There Be Dragons(and Mummies)!

Dragons and other mythical serpents mark dangerous or unexplored territories on some maps produced in or before medieval times; contemporary satire sometimes invokes this practice by labeling a contended or controversial region with 'Here Be Dragons' on a modern map or mock atlas. If I could slap that phrase across Hull on every tourist map, bus route pamphlet, and map quest printout in the province I would. I'm almost tempted to go right off the topical rails and talk about how tempted I was to just swim across the river back to Ontairo after a half hour of fruitless searching failed to turn up a serviceable Ottawa-bound bus route, but instead I'll go with the dragon thing.

Civilization's 'Mythic Beasts' exhibit, which I visited with M and Tim, was a treat. Since it was designed to appeal to all ages it's necessarily a little shallow insofar as analysis of these myths goes, but most of the creatures 'on display' were accompanied by artifacts depicting them, which did alot for me insofar as contextualizing these legends went. Given the amount of necklaces, cloak clasps, dresses and paintings humanity has produced in homage to dragons, mermaids and gremlins I'd have to say that fascination, rather than fear, drives our attitude toward the half hidden wonders of the natural world.

And many of these monsters, which seem so outlandish in form to our eyes, grew out of life's debris; cyclops for instance are thought by some scholars to be the product of ancient speculation on mammoth skeletons. Giant Squid are based on slightly less giant but still decently huge squid. The legendary Roc, a bird so massive that they could make off with an elephant without much trouble, may be the mythological decedent of the now extinct 'Elephant Bird' or Aepyornis. The creatures were organized thematically rather than chronologically, depending on their defining element, so it's hard to work out a time line of how mythology and mythological creatures 'evolved'. Still, I'd say there's a shift from the metaphysical, demi-divine fairies of certain cultures to the simply unusual, slightly symbolic animals that populate some medieval bestiaries, such as the unicorn.

But I don't really know much about the subject. Either way, the exhibit was well crafted and we all enjoyed it very much. After passing through that particular cave of magic and wonder(and the gift shop set up right outside the exhibit exit), we took in the much less crowded series of displays on Egyptian afterlife mythology and burial practices.

Looking back, all I can think is: if these guys wake up in the afterlife, they'll be eating with their hands, because we made off with all their kitchenware a looooooong time ago.

Along with their jewelry(that goes without saying) and miniature servants. There's a bloody army of tiny clay(or whatever; the museum was kind enough to list the construction materials of each piece so I could forget them immediately) cooks and soldiers idling behind glass panels down at Civ; who's looking after Pharaoh?

On a more serious note, it was rather incredible to contemplate the actual mummies on display. To imagine that these dessicated museum pieces were alive once, and to consider the journey they've made in death, leads me to wonder who will be reading this 10,000 years from now, as an example of what some nobody thought of those things called mummies that we used to have before Komodo dragons evolved into actual dragons and wiped out 90% of humanity.

There was a prayer at the end of that exhibit, recommended by the Museum for those who wished to honor, by name, the mummies present and those whose tombs had been raided for artifacts. I found it touching, partly because it was frankly unnecessary considering the slightly more carnivorous attitude researchers have held at times toward the ruins of Ancient Egypt and our utter disconnect from their religious beliefs. I said a prayer from the Christian tradition for the souls of the long(long) departed.

And that was that; the Museum was closing so we didn't the traditional look at Canada Hall, but perhaps next summer. We did walk about the grounds for awhile, which while excellent would benefit from de-pooping near the river. Nice throwing rocks, though. ^_^

The Filial Bond

In lieu of something more substantial, I present a quote from earlier this evening:

Dad: You can't bullshit me, alright? I invented you.

It's pretty much true, too; whenever I've tried to trick or deceive my dad I've just ended up feeling transparent and clumsy. xD

Coming soon: museum and outing reviews! I think the summer of culture has come to close, though there's one more Wednesday left. ^_^

Once Upon a Time in Nazi Occupied France

That's the title of Inglorious Basterds' first act; it embodies the tone of Tarintino's grimly whimsical, romantic dramatization of a historical period rarely approached with anything besides solemnity. Since I suspect Anna and M haven't seen the movie I'll keep this review brief and speak in general terms, but I can say right from the start that I highly recommend it.

The flim's structure is theatrical; each act is a masterfully detailed episode in which very little time is wasted on pointless transitional scenes. All of that energy has gone into populating each scene with interesting characters and unconstrained, un-contrived dialogue which follows the pacing dictated by the scene rather then by timing or 'plot development', which sometimes seems to degenerate into over-explication of the directors favorite element of the storyline. It's very natural and, in my opinion, engrossing.

Tarintino has certainly taken hold of the historical material at hand and bent it to his vision; I call Basterds' 'romantic' because it places nations and armies at the mercy of individuals, rather than the other way around. I'd like to say that there are heroes and villains in sharper relief than what we're used to in movies concerned with WWII, but villainy is incarnated more clearly than heroism, strictly speaking. The Basterds', who are 'the good guys', are also casually cruel and by nature vengeful. Their Jewishness seems a little like a vehicle for a remorseless, usually unconsidered brutaility toward every and all Nazi's encountered in the film.

Which brings me to the issue of violence; I found it violent but not spectacularily so, and Alex seemed to disagree. Without spoiling anything, I can say that there are violent acts which, while not being particuraily bloody, are still cringe-inducing by virtue of what they are. But it's not a protracted bloody mess.

All in all, one of my favorites without a doubt: I think I'll pick it up on DVD when it's avaliable, which would be pretty rare for me. =O

Not Really an Update

Hello! I've decided to implement a Monday/Friday update schedule for my blogs, so I will have something up tomorrow; that being said, I've updated my other blog and figured I'd let ya'll know.

So, 'The Damascine Roadside' now has an intro post; check thou it out. ^_^

Tonight, on Tales from the Crypt Keeper...

...an exquisitely horrifying, chilling, mind-boggling bit of blog-fiction concerning a deceptively unassuming house and the people drawn into it's grim orbit.

The Dionaea House.

You can look forward to two or so hours worth of reading that will pay immense dividends in sleeplessness and paranoia. =D

The story is told over the course of several blogs, which are linked to each other in chronological order; you'll know which links are story relevant based on where and when they appear. It really is fantastic; I look forward to discussing it with everyone. ^_^

Smooth Criminal

Hm, it's been a little while, hasn't it?

I'm hoping to get a more regular update schedule going, and we might as well start it off by discussing some local news: Mayor Larry O'Brien is not a crook!

Or so he says. And Justice Douglas Cunningham apparently agrees, given his dismissal of the bribery charges leveled against O'Brien in relation to offers made by our councilor-in-chief to one Terry Kilrea, which may have concerned something to do with a post that might have been on the parole board. Possibly in exchange for Kilrea's dropping out of the race. And maybe some money too, either by way of cheque or a wad of bills slipped coyly into Kilrea's quarter open shirt...

*ahem* Anyway, even though I couldn't resist titling this post as I did, it's not really a fair to label O'brien as such for two reasons:

Firstly, in the eyes of the law he is not a criminal, and I don't presume to credit my own personal distrust of O'Briens Lex Luthor-esque appearance over a well considered legal ruling.

Secondly, even if a crime took place, by no means can it be described as having been 'smooth'. It's like robbing a bank and sliding away on a banana peel so quickly that the cops can't ID you; the main reason O'Brien got off was that the content of the meetings weren't corroborated by any independent sources and all the ancillary testimony(concerning things O'Brien may have said to others concerning a job for Kilrea) was confused and unreliable.

There are some interesting questions about the nature of bribery percolating at the core of all this: O'Brien defense, in an early motion for a direct verdict which would have sidestepped all this trial business, insisted that the law was designed to prevent cash incentives from being offered for political advantage, not political offices in and of themselves. The judge rejected this rather narrow concept of 'bribery' and I'd have to agree, especially in light of the fact that most political offices guarantee a salary and thus can be construed as carrying a financial value.

And so concludes the all time high point of my interest in municipal politics. We'll finish with a quote from O'Brien concerning the speed of his campaign and election, offered up to explain his hazy recollection of some of the finer details of his meetings with Kilrea.


"I fell asleep on my boat in July drinking a beer and when I woke up I was the mayor of Ottawa. That's how fast it went."

Imagine what he might have woke up as if he'd actually had a proper sleep in his own bed.

In Search of a Dignified Pencil Case

I enjoy order, organization, and categorization to a downright anal degree; unfortunately I am also a little lazy and more than a little absent minded, so pretty much everything I'm responsible for tends to develop along a frankenstienian filing scheme that neatly labels and sorts and re-sorts and cross sorts a narrow selection of what needs to be sorted while the rest is allowed to pile up in the corners until I skim a layer off for over-sorting.

So needless to say, I like for everything to have a home of some kind, so I can funnel any sort of overflow into the system quickly and easily. I love cases and containers; the more little partitions they have, the better. I had a great one for my Warhammer 40K minatures back in the day, which could ferry my poorly painted hordes across the city in red packing-foamed splendor.

But what I've been interested in for awhile now is a classy pencil case; most of the ones you see in stores are loudly colored enough to double as reflective signals for avalanche stranded skiiers or mini traffic pylons. Never mind bringing these things to school; I don't even like the look of them on my desk.

So when I saw a decent compromise between my expectations/desires/hopes and what is exists in actual fact at Grand & Toy the other day, I jumped on it: a Vaultz(that's right, with a z dawg) locking pencil case. It's sturdy and professional looking, but still not quite my ideal pencil repository.



So I'm still on the hunt and open to suggestions; my next avenue of inquiry will be into Cigar boxes/humidors, though the latter may be a little expensive and over-equipped for my needs(they tend to have some kind of humidity moderating device installed inside the lid). I'm looking for James Bond's pencil case, really, though mine won't need to shoot anything or blow up on command. Won't need to, mind you.