Monday, September 23, 2013

When The Creator Forsakes His Creation

Giancarlo Esposito on Vince Gilligan v. Walter White... makes you think about Hell:

You might get your wish. Vince made it clear that he has no sympathy left for Walt. 
To hear Vince speak about Walt in this disparaging way makes me sad! [Laughs] I've always had this feeling that, as a writer, you love all of your characters. And at some point, I imagine that Vince has turned against Walter, and Vince is going to exact his revenge. There is a horror coming, and let's hope it's one that will  remind us that this road is not one to be traveled by the faint-hearted. 

Read more: 

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

I Remembered Everything

I Remembered Everything
(Inspired by the writings of George Sand)

Once my heart was captured,
I stopped, staggered, unsure,
like a man in a tragic story,
knocked roughly to the floor
by a sudden turn of comic rapture –
and straightway, doubt was shown the door,
deliberately, and with a sort of frantic joy.
And I was the man who was once again the boy:
flush with life: life worth living,
and I remembered everything, and more,
and I accepted everything, and believed everything
without struggle, without suffering.

And the song awoke, then the poetry,
I remembered, and relished, again
the fondness of forgotten friends. Then,
for the first time since the flood came,
my heart found song,
and my voice rose in strains happy, strong,
and I could feel, within, the symphony:
moment by moment new songs to me came –
and I had a new name.

Afterward, I never was the same;
my future was different, neatly arranged 
and though I thought history was in stone writ,
even my past was changed,
revised anew with Shakespearean wit:
a comic clarity, reached back, and reframed
all that had passed as tragic;
the remaining restless regrets, I framed
behind dark glass, in cardboard bins,
and stored them in the attic
next to a box of things to mend.

And then, with new name armed, I became
an innocent again; free of crimes  –
and for the first time in a long time  –
blameless of all blame;
a man who knew not shame.

My heart raced, and I felt freedom, bold and pure:
freedom greater after slavery endured.
I was true as true; I was forever sure;
I was rich for being poor;
I was less, but I was more.
My armor shone to never rust,
and I found trust when I gave trust.
I was busy, but never rushed,
and happy: so happy that I blushed –
not with shame, as I always had before –
with pride, as one by kindness crushed,
as one adores who is adored.