Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Potterpuff

Been having a flu and fever past several days. Mostly been sleeping. And embarrasingly enough reading Harry Potter number 7. Whether it was the delerium from sickness or the curiousity from watching the movie i do not know. But i tell you what, *whisper* i kind of enjoyed it. *Softer whisper* Except the ending which sucks arse.

To its credit it was better written than the others that preceded it. You didn't really feel like strangling the protagonist half the time you were reading. Potter's grown up and it shows. His internal conflicts mirror ours yet his actions reflect a person we can admire and hope to emulate. Its a delicate balance of realism and idealism. Which is of course thrown into the chute at the end. But its a delight to read while it lasts and you almost didn't want it to end. And then it did. (Minor spoilers ahead) Like a jigsaw puzzle you just couldn't put together till at last it fits perfectly in a flash to reveal the picture of ...
Yes its a happy ending. And i will admit, i have a small bias against these sort of things. The world isn't a happy place. Most of us aren't completely contented. Sure fiction can be escapism, but its got to be subdued with a sense of honesty that links us to it. Our journey with the characters is suddenly halted by their sudden, rousing, and hastily explained success. Read on only if you've read the book or can't be bothered about minor spoilers.

Harry's attainment of the "Hallows" or his 'conquering' of death had been something the climax heavily vested into. But the finality and significance of death seems rather banal if its revealed we all get to live on in some kind of train station heaven or equivalent. It rather belittles the victory that had been coming for seven tomes. Plot holes suddenly had to be plugged in the span of a chapter and the whole tone of the book changes as you sense the author doing it. The wholesome and somewhat contrived ending seemed to bend the patient buildup to its will. Towards the final chapter its like J.K just got abit tired. And found out about a word called
'rent' (2) n.

1. An opening made by rending; a rip.
If you can be bothered, or are a big enough Potter fan to be offended, just count the number of times she uses it towards the end. The air rented with screams. Rented with laughter. Rented with miscellaneous magical bolts. Rent a wider vocabulary Rowling. I wanted to rent the pages apart.

Potter is an immensely likeable fella though. All the way till he becomes some sort of martyr/God/Neo. He must have been lecturing Voldemort about an hour as they circled each other, wands pointed. The buildup slowly wasting away as you realized Potter armed with knowledge from a helpful ghost (he just had to come back didn't he) would bring about Voldemort's inevitable doom.

Dont get me wrong, happy endings can be alright. I started having a warm fuzzy feeling towards the end. But then that fuzzy feeling stuffed my insides and exploded with the force of a hundred carebear love rays. The epilogue took the cake. Rowling makes sure her fans arent left longing for more by stuffing them with enough happy visions of all her characters to make them beg her to stop. They all get married and have kids. And their kids recycle the names of other beloved characters. Fine, its a wonderfully blossomy gesture and all, but did their personalities have to be recycled too? Id cringe if that part materialized on the big screen.. I thought the 6th movie installment was actually pretty decent. If the last one sucks, i called it. But no matter, we're all still going to watch it anyway. And that's some skillfull hocus pocus right there.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

It tastes like droppings.

Been an entirely uninspiring week. Daily doses of tiny fried chicken, loudmouthed humourless morons, mundane lessons, rat eaten bread. Yes bread eaten by fucking rat. Mustave been a goddamn ninja one too, it avoided my chair, jumped/climbed/reppelled into the high shelf of my slightly opened locker, manouvered around my shaving cream, water bottle, wholemeal loaf and nibbled its way through all the corners of my raisin bread. I had to eat mysterious yellow pasted baos for two days. Lest you think that is hardly punishment, as Samuel kindly enlightened me; these baos, when thrown on the floor? They bounce back up. I have since confirmed this observation. Will write more soon but for now i have to go back to the LAND OF THE RAATS. GRARRH

Fuck you...



Oh this is a must see spoof...