Guess what! (Note that is an exclamation point and not a question mark; that should indicate I’m about to tell you the answer without you having to ask; ie: A rhetorical question.)
Joss Whedon has filmed Much Ado About Nothing! And if that weren’t enough to make me stupid happy the ridiculous couple of Beatrice and Benedict are going to be played by Amy Acker and Alexis Denisof – that’s right, Angel‘s doomed couple of Fred and Wesley. Be still, my softly weeping heart.
Joss Whedon is responsible for how I viewed women at an early age. He successfully protected me from the angry poison of feminism while still empowering me to be bad-ass woman who dates who she wants, doesn’t take crap, and kicks vampire but. I watched Buffy every Tuesday night at the impressionable age of 13 quickly followed by Xena… I may have been overly violent as a teen.
In one of my “I live with my parent’s again” times of life, we watched Firefly. I had already seen the show, however as punishment for making me a Second Generation Trekkie, (as in I am the second generation), I hushed my dad’s “What’s a Space Cowboy?” questions and we got together once or twice a week and watched The Captain and crew. My dad still sings “Find me a horse! Find me a gun, I won’t rest until I’m done!” loosely in the tune of The Ballad of Serenity by Sunny Roads.
I’ve watched pretty much anything Joss has done over the years. I enjoy his snappy dialogue and the way he fleshes out a character to the point of realism. You can almost see the family like atmosphere he creates on his set between the crew. I am so happy to see the cast of characters in the upcoming Much Ado; it looks like a family reunion. Here are the one’s I recognize; there are about four more who I don’t from various Joss films etc.
Pass the popcorn.
I’ll see you two later.
I would like to dedicate this post to IMDB.
This weeks FF asks an interesting question, one I had to pause and think over for a whole night. I opened this new post up and was about to write down “Mrs. Coulter” as my answer when out of the blue the real answer hit me between the eyes.
Well my top two are: Shylock and Lady Macbeth. I know right? First of all, I will always remember the awe in which I read every word that came from the great Lady. She was strong, smart, she knew what she wanted and she took it. If her husband hadn’t been such a bumbling moron she may have gotten all she wanted! And Shylock, I don’t know, I always thought he was sort of the underdog. He was a Jew in Italy for crying out loud. The Christians had it out for him in his mind, and he was just trying to get by… sort-of.
So that’s it. Now I’m thinking I should really read more Shakespeare this year, despite my earlier intentions of canning him till the end of this NYR list. Ah conundrums eh? You know by definition, conundrum implies there is a solution? Ya, I’m smart like that.
[Now I have to clean my whole house...out out damn spot!]
So I’ve finally tried out Polldaddy, meh it’s okay. But I did compile a super fun buffy vs. shakespeare “last words” quiz. Check it out! Have a great rest of your day.
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,
Before high piled books, in charact’ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;–then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.
I spoke a while ago, here, on a poem I had been un-hurridly looking for. Well, I found it. I had been idly procrastinating and surfing this super cool website called “The Word Made Flesh“. It’s a website all on literary tattoos; one jumped out at me.
Her information said it was from a Keats’ poem. I started googling. Presto Bingo! This is one of my very favorite poems; one that has haunted me for a while. Oh and here’s one from Shakespeare that I think is lovely.
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith, being crowned,
Crooked eclipses ‘gainst his glory fight
And Time that gave, doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth,
And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow,
Feeds on the rarities of natures truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow;
And yet, to times, in hope, my verse shall stand,
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.