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The Fables of RH

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7/25/05 09:50 pm - Loopy

"bent as a nine bob note"

Only the British could invent such a wonderful phrase to self-acknowledge homosexulaity!

R.

7/25/05 02:55 am - A Date?

OOOHHHHH,

What a NICE day it turned out to be!

Looks like I've found myself to be going on a date here very soon....

And boy has it put me in a good mood!!!

R.

7/24/05 01:11 am - Good Epicurus

"It is not so much our friends' help that helps us
as the confident knowledge that they will help us."
-- Epicurus


Isn't it amazing how we so often forget...

7/24/05 12:55 am - Cortez The Killer

Evening,

You all know me well enough to know that there is nothing quite so impacting to me as music (that's a small lie, but it IS very important). I've heard so much different music in the last 4 years (working at the 2nd largest music store in the world will do that to you!) that I am seldom deeply moved by something new. But lo and behold! Today was just such a day!

I've been on a huge Neil Young kick lately (post Dylan no doubt...) and have been rediscovering some songs off some of the albums I have by him that I had never gotten all the way through. Anyway, I've been really keen on the "Weld" live album. The old man just loses it through the thing! He's totally psycho! But there is this one song on the thing - "Cortez The Killer" that is just out of this world. The playing is SO perfect. I just can't do it justice. It's a deeply spiritual experience...

Ryan

7/21/05 01:05 am - Songs for 'Only The Lonely'...

Each place I go only the lonely go
Some little small cafè
The songs I know only the lonely know
Each melody recalls a love that used to be
The dreams I dream only the lonely dream
Of lips as warm as May
That hopeless scheme only the lonely scheme
That soon somewhere you'll find the one that used to care
And you recall each fun time
Those picnics at the beach when love was new
It well could be the one time
A hopeless little dream like that comes true
If you find love hang on to each caress
And never let love go
For when it's gone you'll know the loneliness
The heartbreak only the lonely know

--

Hey drink up all you people
Order anything you see
And have fun you happy people
The laugh and the drinks on me

Try to think that love's not around
Still it's uncomfortably near
My poor old heart ain't gaining any ground
Because my angel eyes ain't here

Angel eyes, that old Devil sent
They glow unbearably bright
Need I say that my love's mispent
Mispent with angel eyes tonight

So drink up all of you people
Order anything you see
And have fun you happy people
The drink and the laughs on me

Pardon me but I got to run
The fact's uncommonly clear
I got to find who's now the number one
And why my angel eyes ain't here

Excuse me while I disappear

--

What's new?
How is the world treating you?
You haven't changed a bit
Lovely as ever, I must admit

What's new?
How did that romance come through?
We haven't met since then
Gee, but it's nice to see you again

What's new?
Probably I'm boring you
But seeing you is grand
And you were sweet to offer your hand

I understand. Adieu!
Pardon my asking what's new
Of course you couldn't know
I haven't changed, I still love you so

--

It's a lonesome old town, when you're not around, I'm lonely, as I can be.
I never knew how much I missed you, but now I can plainly see.
It's a lonesome old town, when you're not around,
How I wish you'd come back to me.
I never knew how much I missed you, but now I can plainly see.
It's a lonesome old town, when you're not around,
How I wish you'd come back to me.
How I wish you'd come back to me.

--

Willow weep for me
Willow weep for me
Bend your branches green along the stream that runs to sea
Listen to my plea
Hear me willow and weep for me

Gone my lovers dream
Lovely summer dream
Gone and left me here to weep my tears into the stream
Sad as I can be
Hear me willow and weep for me

Whisper to the wind and say that love has sinned
Left my heart a-breaking, and making a moan
Murmur to the night to hide its starry light
So none will see me sighing and crying all alone

Weeping willow tree
Weep in sympathy
Bend your branches down along the ground and cover me
When the shadows fall, hear me willow and weep for me

Oh, Weeping willow tree
Weep in sympathy
Bend your branches down along the ground and cover me
When the shadows fall, hear me willow and weep for me

--

There is no great big ending
No sunset in the sky
There is no string ensemble
And she doesn't even cry
And just as I begin to say
That we should make another try
She reaches out across the table looks at me and quietly says good-bye
There is no big explosion
No tempest in the tea
The world does not stop turning round
There's no big tragedy
Sitting in a coffee shop
With cheesecake and some apple pie
She reaches out across the table looks at me and quietly says good-bye
Good-bye
Said so easily
Good-bye
Said so quietly
Good-bye good-bye good-bye
Just two always strangers avoid each other's eyes
One still make believing
One still telling lies
She tells me that I'm not to blame
But when I ask the reason why
She reaches out across the table looks at me and quietly says good-bye
Good-bye
Said so easily
Good-bye
Said so quietly
Good-bye good-bye good-bye
She reaches out across the table looks at me and quietly says good-bye

--

My mama done tol' me, when I was in knee-pants
My mama done tol' me, " Son a woman'll sweet talk"
And give ya the big eye, but when the sweet talkin's done
A woman's a two-face, A worrisome thing who'll leave ya to sing the blues in the night

Now the rain's a-fallin', hear the train's a-callin, "Whooee!"
(My mama done tol' me) Hear dat lonesome whistle blowin' 'cross the trestle, "Whooee!"
(My mama done tol' me) A-whooee-ah-whooee ol' clickety-clack's a-echoin' back th' blues in the night
The evenin' breeze'll start the trees to cryin' and the moon'll hide its light when you get the blues in the night
Take my word, the mockingbird'll sing the saddest kind o' song, he knows things are wrong, and he's right

From Natchez to Mobile, from Memphis to St. Joe, wherever the four winds blow
I been in some big towns an' heard me some big talk, but there is one thing I know
A woman's a two-face, a worrisome thing who'll leave ya to sing the blues in the night

My mama was right, there's blues in the night.

--

The torch I carry is handsome
It's worth its heartache in ransom
Now when that twilight steals
I know how the lady in the harbor feels

When I want rain, I get sunny weather
I'm just as blue, blue as the sky
Since love has gone, I can't get myself together
Guess I'll hang my tears out to dry

My friend ask me out, but I tell them I'm busy
I've got to get a new alibi
I hang around at home, and ask myself: "Where is she?"
Guess I'll hang my tears out to dry

Dry little tear drops, my little tear drops
Moving on a stream of dreams
My little memories, those precious memories
Remind me of our crazy schemes

Then somebody says, just forget about her
But I gave that treatment a try
Strangely enough, I got along without her
Then one day she passed me right by - oh well
I guess I'll hang my tears out to dry

--

First the tide rushes in
Plants a kiss on the shore
Then rolls out to sea
And the sea is very still once more

So I rush to your side
Like the oncoming tide
With one burning thought
Will your arms open wide

At last we're face to face
And as we kiss through an embrace
I can tell, I can feel
You are love, you are real
Really mine

In the rain, in the dark, in the sun

Like the tide at its ebb
I'm at peace in the web
Of your arms

--

Once there was a thing called spring,
When the world was writing verses like yours and mine.
All the lads and girls would sing,
When we sat at little tables and drank May wine.
Now April, May, and June are sadly out of tune,
life has stuck a pin in the balloon.
Spring is here! Why doesn't my heart go dancing?
Spring is here! Why isn't the waltz entrancing?
No desire, no ambition leads me,
maybe it's because nobody needs me?
Spring is here! Why doesn't the breeze delight me?
Stars appear! Why doesn't the night invite me?
Maybe it's because nobody loves me,
spring is here, I hear!

--

Gone with the wind, just like a leaf that has blown away.
Gone with the wind, my romance has flown away.
Yesterday's kisses are still on my lips,
I had a lifetime of heaven on my fingertips.
But now all is gone, gone is the rapture that thrilled my heart.
Just like a flame, love burned brightly
Then became an empty smoke dream that has gone,
Gone with the wind.

--

It's quarter to three,
There's no one in the place 'cept you and me
So set 'em' up Joe
I got a little story I think you oughtta know

We're drinking my friend
to the end of a brief episode
So Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road

I know the routine
put another nickel in that there machine
I'm feeling so bad
Won't you make the music easy and sad

I could tell you a lot
But you gotta to be true to your code
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road

You'd never know it
but buddy I'm a kind of poet
And I've got a lot of things I wanna say
And if I'm gloomy, please listen to me
Till it's all, all talked away

Well, that's how it goes
And Joe I know you're gettin' Anxious to close
So Thanks for the cheer
I hope you didn't mind
My bending your ear

But this torch that I found
It's gotta be drowned
Or it soon might explode
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road

--

Sleep warm, sleep tight, when you turn off the light,
Sleep warm, sleep well, my love.
Rest your head on your pillow, what a lucky pillow,
Close to you, so close to you all night.
Sleep warm, sleep well, let dreams within you dwell,
Sweet dreams of me, my love.
Close your eyes now and kiss me, and whisper you miss me,
Sleep tight, sleep well, sleep warm.

--

When you're awake the things you think
Come from the dream you dream
Thought has wings, and lots of things
Are seldom what they seem

Sometimes you think you've lived before
All that you live today
Things you do come back to you
As though they knew the way

Oh the tricks your mind can play

It seems we stood and talked like this, before
We looked at each other in the same way then
But I can't remember where or when

The clothes you are wearing are the clothes you wore
The smile you are smiling you were smiling then
But I can't remember where or when

Some things that happened for the first time
Seem to be happening again

And so it seems that we have met before
And laughed before, and loved before
But who knows where or when.

7/20/05 09:15 pm - Demelza

Evening,

Still have Potter on the brain. So, I should like to point out two of the things that set me a twitter when reading the book!

At one point Ron is called "Rupert" by a confused Professor.

A nice nod!

But the one that really tickled me was the introduction of a character named "Demelza."

Dan Radfliffe seems to be a pretty special kid (by all accounts), and it has never surprised me that he is always imploring his young (and old) fans to donate to charity rather than sending him gifts, birthday stuff, etc. The charity is The Demelza House(www.demelzahouse.org). It's the only children's hospice in the southwest of England. It seems as though Dan's interest in The Demelza House earned a special enough place in J.K.'s heart for her to name one of her characters after the place.

I'm still looking for the sly nod to Emma Watson. But I'm sure that since Rupert and Dan got one...

Ryan

7/20/05 07:55 pm - J.K. Loves West Wing

Little things like this make me pleased as punch when I see them:

Ms. J.K. Rowling loves The West Wing!

She also says that Sorkin is her fav. show writer.

Imagine that! Class and skill liking class and skill!

Ryan

ps - well, it'd in the open now, so I don't mind saying that one of my fav. bits about Harry Potter is that all of the good guys (including Harry himself) are all liberals!

7/20/05 05:56 pm - Mr. Roberts

Evening,

Well, the "Red States" can rejoice! Bush, as he always promised, nominated a CONSERVATIVE to the bench. Wonder if he'll be Scalia or Souter? Who knows? But what I do know is that Democrats should shut it unless something extraordinary comes out about this guy. He's insanely qualified, respected, and capable. And even if they pitch the biggest fit ever known in the realm of politics... well, there will still be a conservative nominee presented. Even if they scuttle Roberts.

Now, am I at all happy that the High Court is going to go from a 5-4 or 4-5 standard to a 6-3 or 5-4 standard? No, I am not. If it's often unwise to have the legislative and the executive all controlled by the same party, it must be VERY unwise to add the judicial to that group as well. Now, of course, American voters are not leaning heavily in one direction. But they have seemingly leaned to the right for long enough now that it is now the case that the three branches of government have all aligned. This is deeply problematic.

So, the solution for now is to realize (if you're a DEM) that elections do have consequences. And this is one of the consequences. I think it is past time for Democrats to fight. Since the Vietnam era the White House has generally been a Republican home. And the lawmakers have generally been majority Democrats. The Electoral College just sets itself up better for Republican victories these days. Democrats would be wise to strike now, and strike fast while Bush is weak. No, not at the White House - at Congress. And the nation would be wise to return them to power in the legislative branch. You see, with the Court now leaning right, with the White House in better shape to claim for Republicans, and 11 years in the legislative wilderness it is safe to say that the country would do well to start remembering checks and balance systems. Of course, that's assuming the Democrats don't keep seeking pyrrhic victories in the form of filibusters (in which case they may not deserve election...).

Some of my Democrat friends will no doubt be upset for me having made these comments. They know that I am much more concerned with ideology in government than I am with actual governing. But I'm afraid that voting against well-qualified judges for ideological reasons isn't very agreeable to me. Judges should be voted on based on ability. If they are appointed by ideological men because of their practices... well, as long as the practices are fair and just inside the law, tough. The Court has both conservatives and liberals sitting on it. That's just fine. They are all (with the probable exception of Thomas) exceedingly well-qualified. You want to fight the ideology of the appointment? Fight when it comes time to vote for those that appoint. Naturally, they will appoint with ideological issues in mind. They are the ones to fight if ideology matters so much, not exceedingly well-qualified appointments.

So, my suggestion to Democrats is thus: get back congress, take a shot and the White House, and see what happens. After all, you get back the White House and you get to appoint your own ideologues. And wouldn't THAT be nice?

Besides, it will do the country well - not being controlled by the same party. Really.

Just my two cents,

Ryan

ps - note that I did mention that if there is extraordinary information that comes forth regarding a judge that different evaluations must be taken. If someone digs up something awful on Roberts, or he answers at his hearing in appalling ways (blatant misuse of the law, for example) than all bets are, and should be, off. Right? Right.

7/19/05 03:30 am - Sea Change

I love Beck's album "Sea Change."

Really do...

7/18/05 09:48 pm - An excellent HP review

BOOK REVIEW
Harry and his readers must be brave
The latest installment is not a book for babies. Children of mettle will be rewarded richly.

By Emily Green, Times Staff Writer


'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince'
J.K. Rowling
Arthur A. Levine/Scholastic: 660 pp., $29.99

Harry who?

The rest of the world may have been following Harry Potter's progress since owls began flying by day in the first Harry Potter novel in 1997, but at least one person in the book-buying world resisted the bespectacled little wizard. Me.

Granted, even here in L.A., 6,000 miles from its original setting in Privet Lane, the hype generated by the books, and then movies of the books, tapes of the books, books about the books, was unavoidable. For the last seven years, TV networks have insisted on showing us footage of books from Britain being unloaded from planes onto trucks, from trucks into shops, then from shops being stuffed into the hot little hands of children.

Yes, the hype is a bit much, concede the fans, who then invariably proceed to mount an earnest lecture about how the Potter books and their author, J.K. Rowling, introduced a generation of children to the joy of reading. One of our book editors even gave it a historical wash. Isn't it remarkable, he noted, that when Harry Potter books are released, American children still line up at midnight outside bookstores for first copies, much like the followers of Alexandre Dumas thronged squares in France for the latest installments of "The Three Musketeers" and "The Count of Monte Cristo" more than a century ago.

"Let them watch TV," I thought.

As if in a cosmic gesture to slay the last living skeptic, I was asked to review the sixth and supposedly penultimate book: "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince."

"Whatever," I said.

Colleagues whose children were reverently reading volumes one through five to prepare for the new book made jokes that I might be an agent of someone called Lord Voldemort. From their tone, one could surmise that he was not the hero. I was given primers about the moral codes of Harry Potter. If memory serves, there were two books, one written by Professor Too Much Time on His Hands and a second by Professor Way Too Much Time on His Hands.

A neighbor decided a cold start on volume six wouldn't do. Her 10-year-old son could lend me his collection: "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets," "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban," "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" and "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix." Each book was thicker than the last.

I managed only enough of the first story to become pixillated by Rowling's magical scene-setting: cats who read maps and showers of shooting stars from London to Dundee. Then the emails from the mothers of Potter devotees started:

"Are you reading any H. Potter? Do you know what you're in for? ... You may find yourself surrounded by dementors (a reference to Book 3) and no amount of chocolate will help you. No patronus, no avada kedavra (Book 4) — even your quidditch skills won't help you — you'll be petrified, literally by a basilisk (Book 2) and then not even a mandrake (Book 2) can save you. GET READING!!!"

When the highly coveted (and tightly guarded) review copy for volume six arrived a mere 24 hours before deadline, I started smugly enough. Oh, yes, here was a witty little hybrid of a parliamentary farce and Arthurian legend, I thought.

By Chapter 2, however, fireside goblin play gave way to chill foreboding and a scene in which pale women rush by night through an industrial wasteland in order to forge a deadly pact. By the end of the 652 pages, I was exhausted. Were children up to this kind of high drama? Could all those millions of copies be put back in those boxes, back on those trucks, back on those planes?

No. No, they can't. As the sun rises this very morning, our children have this book already, and they will have to be brave.

This much can be said about "Half-Blood Prince" without spoiling the plot. Once Harry was 10 and stars rained down on England to augur his arrival. Now he is 16, and as the book opens, bridges are collapsing. Wizards from the Ministry of Magic are popping out of the Prime Minister's fireplace to explain that the cause is not bad construction. It's evil. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back.

In what even a newcomer can detect as an alarming cabinet reshuffle, the charming Cornelius Fudge has been replaced as Minister of Magic by the shrewd Rufus Scrimgeour. Harder times demand harder characters.

Relief comes in the form of well-observed personality quirks and some first-class toilet humor. Bored figures in paintings are not above picking their ears. Amid the potions in Fred and George's magic store, there is a sign that reads "Why are you Worrying about You-Know-Who? You should be worrying about U-No-Poo — the constipation sensation that's gripping the nation."

Then there's the romance. Yes, yuck, love — which turns out to be a liability when fighting evil. The days are too dangerous to become bogged down by sentiment. There is simply too much treachery afoot in the Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardy, unsecured portals, secret enemies. As Harry accompanies Professor Dumbledore into the heart of darkness, tolls are not money, but blood. Corpses line lake bottoms, not kelp. His ability to obey his mentor is pushed to the limit.

The good news is that Harry is courageous and true. The bad news is that Voldemort's agents have more than Peruvian Vanishing Powder on their side. This is a book for children of mettle. It will reward them richly, but they must not whine, they must be sunny and true and above all brave. The ending is almost too much to bear. I haven't cried so hard since Charlotte the Spider died.
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