I am one man. I have no power, influence, great wealth or popularity; only my thoughts, my words, trying to cut through the darkness of these days. But isn't that all any of us can do at the end of the day. One voice, one person is not able to change anything. I would say you are wrong. One voice plus one more and another and another.... It is like a stick, one stick can bend & break, but if you bring enough sticks together then they can become near unbreakable. That is our strength, working together, forming a community. That does not happen much anymore, does it? Ask yourself, do you know all your neighbors? Do you invite each other over? Do you know your kids' teachers?
Somewhere along the way many of us stopped caring, stopped being involved with the community, closed off, so we can worry about our own interests and rarely about others, often until it is too late. I am not speaking of invading anyone privacy, just plain civility & decency when dealing with one another. One of the greatest strengths we humans have is our ability to form communities, whether based on geography, religion, similarities, political views; that support of others helps provide a buttress thru life. Right now, there are far too few and those few are crumbling.
However, that doesn't mean the house is destroyed. It can still be repaired. How can something seemingly so complex, so insurmountable, be fixed? Look to Mr. Occam. It's so simple one wonders why we haven't done it....yet. We just need to talk to each other. Start a conversation....about anything, as long as we are having a dialog. We have to build bonds with each other, watch out for each other. We can't do it all ourselves, we need each other. Then we trouble starts we can help one another thru it. Or if, worse case scenario, we can be there to help each other deal with the aftermath. There is a solution if we want it.
How bad do you want it? Ask yourself if we can continue down this path of violence, devastating loss & unending grief. It is never too late to turn it around. The answer is not without, the answer is within. All of us. Just imagine if we all tried. Think of what we could accomplish....together.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
When you wish upon a star in a galaxy far, far away
Sometimes two very singular things meet in this crazy universe and a good thing happens. Other times, nothing happens and they pass in the night. Or they can repell each other. But once in a while those two can merge, forming a solid partnership, building on one another's strengths and supporting against each other's weaknesses. Each will bring different view points to this partnetship, adding unique perspectives and opprotunities the other might not have thought of, or been capable of, before this collison of egos.
It will not all be perfect, with smooth sailing. There will be some choppy waters. Supporters on both sides with choose. But ultimately it comes down to what's best for this new duo. These partners won't always agree, they may argue, but they will work it out, finding common ground that benefits both, bringing balance. The energy from both will surround & bind each other, bringing support. Extremism will accomplish little more than aggrivating both parties and will have no place in this shared venture.
You can wish, hope, pray for something better than the horrible mess that was before. Perseverance, patience, and not giving in to those dark sides of us, lurking to take over; that's what will pay off in the end. If you do not lack faith, you will be rewarded.
Although, the future is impossible to see, there is an improved, new hope.
It will not all be perfect, with smooth sailing. There will be some choppy waters. Supporters on both sides with choose. But ultimately it comes down to what's best for this new duo. These partners won't always agree, they may argue, but they will work it out, finding common ground that benefits both, bringing balance. The energy from both will surround & bind each other, bringing support. Extremism will accomplish little more than aggrivating both parties and will have no place in this shared venture.
You can wish, hope, pray for something better than the horrible mess that was before. Perseverance, patience, and not giving in to those dark sides of us, lurking to take over; that's what will pay off in the end. If you do not lack faith, you will be rewarded.
Although, the future is impossible to see, there is an improved, new hope.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
It’s the robo/zombie/alien/pandemic/cataclysm-pocalypse & I feel fine. …as long as I have my books!
We’ve all thought about it. Book lovers have made that imaginary list of which books they’d grab if all hell broke loose. But keep in mind that’s different than what you’d grab in a “normal” emergency, like say a fire. It’s completely different criteria. Have you noticed the last few years, right around 2000 C.E. to now, that there has been an overwhelming focus of end of the world scenarios in the global zeitgeist? (Fun word, zeitgeist. Say it…with a slight German accent. See? Fun!!) Is it because on some collective unconscious level we all sense something will happen? Or is it just influence from pop culture and media? Who cares! Let’s hop on that apocalyptic locomotive, relax in the dining car with some Soylent Green and have fun. I mean…if you can’t laugh at the end of the world, at least a little bit, then what’s the point?
So, here are my top five books I’d take in the event the world as we know it ends. (note: must be books a person actually owns in paper form, no electronic stuff, it’s the apocalypse!)
The Dhammapada – This is the closest thing we Buddhists have to a bible. It collects a large amount of the Buddha’s own words in verse form, covering nearly all aspects of life. Now, I’m not presumptive to think I will use this to single-handedly help reclaim humanity from the darkness …etc….etc. No, this is primarily for me, to help me follow the principles of Buddhism in horrible times. If others happen to take something from it, then that’s all the better.
The Original Illustrated Sherlock Holmes – This hardcover collects all 37 Sherlock Holmes stories and The Hound of the Baskervilles , all as they appeared originally in the magazine The Strange, complete with illustrations by the great Sidney Paget. If the end of the world hits, I want plenty of stories to keep me busy and this will do that very well. Also, Holmes stimulates my analytical & observant portions of my brain, which might be helpful. Finally, this book is very important to me because I LOVE Sherlock Holmes’ stories and this was a once in a lifetime find for me. I paid about $3 for it @ a used book store.
Bradbury Stories: 100 of His Most Celebrated Tales – Anyone who knows me would not be surprised by this at all. Well…maybe only about why I didn’t choose Fahrenheit 451. In the event of the apocalypse, I think having a copy of it might be too little too late. That book is a forewarning; it does no good after the fact. Besides I’d like to hope I could remember the story from memory. Anyway…this collection has nearly all of Bradbury’s greatest short stories. Again, there’s lots of entertainment/learning/escapism to be culled from this book, in one phone book sized volume
Les Misérables – As of right now, I have not read this book. So, assuming the apocalypse comes, maybe I’ll have the time to finally read it all. It’s one of the greatest stories ever told. It’s as easy as that. :)
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay - This is a magnum opus, love letter to the golden age of comic books. There’s everything one could want in this tale of two Jewish immigrants creating comics & making it big, with; adventure, magicians/escape artists, romance, drama, war, tragedy & humor. I’d dare to say it’s a near perfect book. This would be a reminder of a more innocent, simpler time. It’s also a reminder of courage & strength when it pursuit of your dreams. It’s the story of America. I could easily read & re-read & read this again, never tiring of the true fictional legends behind our modern day mythology.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
The top 5 of the top 5. Or...I want to be Rob Gordon when I grow up
So, let's have fun, shall we? I believe you can get a better understanding of a person by knowing what they like to do and what matters to them. Here are my top 5 top 5
Top 5 movies
1. The Godfather/The Godfather, Part II
2. Seven Samurai
3. The Dark Knight
4. The Princess Bride
5. North By Northwest
Top 5 books
1. Fahrenheit 451
2. The Amazing Adventure of Kavalier & Clay
3. American Gods
4. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
5. The Dhamapada
Top 5 Musicians
1. The Beatles
2. Miles Davis
3. Johnny Cash
4. Bob Dylan
5. Buddy Guy
Top 5 TV shows
1. Doctor Who
2. The Shield
3. Battlestar Galactica
4. Farscape
5. The Venture Brothers
Top 5 most inspirational people
1. Thich Nhat Hahn
2. Nikola Tesla
3. Vincent van Gogh
4. John Walsh
5. Groucho Marx
Declaring peace on war. Or how I learned to stop the bomb and fire peace.
There is a well know Buddhist saying I’ve always liked, and try to keep it in mind, “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” This happens to us all in varying degrees. For most of us it passes and that’s that. For others, they hold on to that burning coal for so long, they suffer greatly and become consumed, resulting in scars that are hard to heal. Then that fire consumes, by way of violence, those around that person. And it spreads, just like a fire, if allowed. We must learn to let go of that hot coal, no good will come of it. Anger cannot stop anger. Hate cannot stop hate. Violence only begets violence. There is but one thing that can stop any of this and that is love. Just as the burning coal starts within a person and can spread outward; love does as well. If we do not have love for ourselves, we cannot send it out to others properly. As said by The Dalai Lama, love & compassion are necessary in order for us to survive. There are far too many in this world who attempt to survive on hate and violence. Feel pity for these people and their suffering. Anyone of us at anytime can help alleviate that suffering by offering the nourishment of love. The cycle can and must be broken. However, if you cannot or will not be able to help, then at least do no harm (Thanks Kurt!). All of this violence & hate is but an extreme outward manifestation of a person’s own terrible suffering. Maybe if that person can see that is possible to cultivate love, compassion and find peace in their lives, by seeing it done by others, then there is hope. If you want a real revolution that will truly make this world a better place, free your mind instead (thanks John & Paul).
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Darn it grampa..or how I learned to give my life over to coffee
It is estimated that over half the population in this country drink coffee daily. With such an obvious case of the odds being stacked against me, was it any wonder I eventually gave in to this roasted bean delight? We I was very young, thinking around 2 years old, I remember sitting on grampa Fred's lap as he drank a cup of black coffee. As all young people I was intensely curious about something new. Perhaps I'd encounterd coffee before, but not this closely. It was right THERE! He knew by the expression on my face I had a curiousity that could sated only one way....trying it! I am fairly certain he asked me something along the lines of, "hey buddy, want to try some of your grampa's coffee? It's really good"
[ I say fairly certain, because, after all, can we really trust the perceptions and memories of our 2 year olds selves? While our infant/childhood selves are mostly pure & naive, they are untrustworthy to our adult versions, so we fill in the cracks as best we can, without bothering to check if it's ok with our younger us ]
I don't recollect how the coffee tasted, just that I found it repulsive! What was grampa up to? Could he, a trusted guardian my entire life, such as it was, possibly betray me...with poison!?!? No. Probably not. He found my response rather funny. That intense negative reaction stuck with me for years and years, right up to my early adulthood. I hadn't really touched coffee at all, preferring my pop (specicially Mt. Dew) for caffeine/sugar fix. Eventually I gave up the pop and tried tea. I LOVE tea by the way, so don't assume I'm tea-basher. But as I was out in the world, working, building a life, going to school etc, I needed something to keep going, since willpower and happy thoughts are not enough. Ever since that time of trying one iced coffee frappe thingy I was hooked. I moved more away from such blended coffee drinks to liking just coffee, if done right (with cream/milk/half & half & sugar). I have approximately 1 cup a day or 2 if I'm struggling. I've also discovered all sorts of other coffee; espresso, mochas (my favorite), lattes, and so on. I always seem to be wanting to cut back but never really doing it. I suppose it could be worse. However, I am trying to get used to black coffee, as it is better to not put all that "crap" in it. I both love & hate coffee, perhaps in equal measure. I love coffee for waking me up, my eyes widening, my brain kicking in. But I hate coffee's hold on me. It is well aware of the arrangement we have: I will drink it occasionally without going over board. Both sides are satisfied with this agreement. There is one thing I will always love coffee for; the wonderful bonding moment with my grampa. However, it is the only moment I can recall, for I was too young and died not too long after.
So, thank you grampa Fred for starting off this whole love/hate relationship with the coffee bean.....I think? :)
[ I say fairly certain, because, after all, can we really trust the perceptions and memories of our 2 year olds selves? While our infant/childhood selves are mostly pure & naive, they are untrustworthy to our adult versions, so we fill in the cracks as best we can, without bothering to check if it's ok with our younger us ]
I don't recollect how the coffee tasted, just that I found it repulsive! What was grampa up to? Could he, a trusted guardian my entire life, such as it was, possibly betray me...with poison!?!? No. Probably not. He found my response rather funny. That intense negative reaction stuck with me for years and years, right up to my early adulthood. I hadn't really touched coffee at all, preferring my pop (specicially Mt. Dew) for caffeine/sugar fix. Eventually I gave up the pop and tried tea. I LOVE tea by the way, so don't assume I'm tea-basher. But as I was out in the world, working, building a life, going to school etc, I needed something to keep going, since willpower and happy thoughts are not enough. Ever since that time of trying one iced coffee frappe thingy I was hooked. I moved more away from such blended coffee drinks to liking just coffee, if done right (with cream/milk/half & half & sugar). I have approximately 1 cup a day or 2 if I'm struggling. I've also discovered all sorts of other coffee; espresso, mochas (my favorite), lattes, and so on. I always seem to be wanting to cut back but never really doing it. I suppose it could be worse. However, I am trying to get used to black coffee, as it is better to not put all that "crap" in it. I both love & hate coffee, perhaps in equal measure. I love coffee for waking me up, my eyes widening, my brain kicking in. But I hate coffee's hold on me. It is well aware of the arrangement we have: I will drink it occasionally without going over board. Both sides are satisfied with this agreement. There is one thing I will always love coffee for; the wonderful bonding moment with my grampa. However, it is the only moment I can recall, for I was too young and died not too long after.
So, thank you grampa Fred for starting off this whole love/hate relationship with the coffee bean.....I think? :)
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Death. Or How I learned to unfold my wings as I fall
Initially, after a string of deaths about lately, this was about death as a concept, an idea and how we all deal with it. Then, as with any written work, it morphed into something else. It was all sort of impersonal, how I view others dealing with that ultimate, mysterious motivator. Then Ray Bradbury, my all time favorite author died on June 5th, 2012.
I could try to list all the ways his stories impacted my life ever since that first taste of “Fahrenheit 451” back in junior high, but that doesn’t seem to fit quite right. Instead, I’m going to the story my way, which seems more appropriate.
Once more I’ve learned an important lesson from the master. I’ve been reminded of how I deal with death; rather I should say how I don’t deal with it, or that’s how it seems to me anyway. In my life I’ve not had a person really close to me die. It’s mostly been friends’ relatives, friends, etc. There have been a few key deaths, those of my grandfathers, but I was so incredible young it’s as if they were never real, existing only as stories. That’s not to say that when someone close to me has a death or is still dealing with a death, that I don’t feel compassion or sympathy or try to help how I can. I’ve always been able to have a certain amount of detachment when dealing with it, always deflecting it, glancing at it, but never facing it head on. And this worries me a bit. Throughout my teens and into my adult life I’ve been fortunate; I suppose you might say, however crude that sounds. The closest person that has died was my maternal grandmother, Susan Jane Robinson. I was not as close to her as my sister was, at least not in my adult years. As a kid it’s different, with grandparents and their auras of wonder. Things can change when you lose the naivety of childhood. Out of respect that is all I shall say. During the process leading up to her death and the entire whirlwind after, again my detached analytical side kicked in. I’d like to think this helped my sister, my mother & her brother as they took the death hard, each in their own way.
So why does the death of an amazingly gift writer seem to affect me harder? It’s because of what he showed me, what he leaves behind and the fact that there will be no more new stories. That’s what it’s about though, isn’t it? What we leave behind and how we lived our life. Ray Bradbury left behind so many fantastic, scary, wondrous, touching tales that will last many centuries after he’s gone. He lived life to its fullest, never settling or doing anything he didn’t love doing. Something I ask myself nearly every day. Am I doing what I love? He didn’t tell us anything new, anything we didn’t already know, not really. It was all there for us to see, if we just looked. Deep down we know but refuse to see, to accept the truths we’ve buried. For example, go read one of his books, “Fahrenheit 451”, “Something Wicked This Way Comes”, its companion “Dandelion Wine”, “The Martian Chronicles” or “The Illustrated Man”; and I dare you not to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of denial and ignorance. It wasn’t just about what we are, but also who we could be, who we might or never were. He saw the pain and horror of life, but thru a filter of child-like glee and wonder. He didn’t do this to block out all the bad things in life, rather to act as a balance and more so, a reminder that we must enjoy what we can of life while we’re here. I hope that we can ALL do this more often. I will wrap this up with a quote from, arguably, his greatest story, and my all time favorite book “Fahrenheit 451.” After all, who other than Ray, himself, could sum up what his death means.
“And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn’t crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them the way he did. He was individual. He was an important man. I’ve never gotten over his death. Often I think what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands? He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on.”
Initially, after a string of deaths about lately, this was about death as a concept, an idea and how we all deal with it. Then, as with any written work, it morphed into something else. It was all sort of impersonal, how I view others dealing with that ultimate, mysterious motivator. Then Ray Bradbury, my all time favorite author died on June 5th, 2012.
I could try to list all the ways his stories impacted my life ever since that first taste of “Fahrenheit 451” back in junior high, but that doesn’t seem to fit quite right. Instead, I’m going to the story my way, which seems more appropriate.
Once more I’ve learned an important lesson from the master. I’ve been reminded of how I deal with death; rather I should say how I don’t deal with it, or that’s how it seems to me anyway. In my life I’ve not had a person really close to me die. It’s mostly been friends’ relatives, friends, etc. There have been a few key deaths, those of my grandfathers, but I was so incredible young it’s as if they were never real, existing only as stories. That’s not to say that when someone close to me has a death or is still dealing with a death, that I don’t feel compassion or sympathy or try to help how I can. I’ve always been able to have a certain amount of detachment when dealing with it, always deflecting it, glancing at it, but never facing it head on. And this worries me a bit. Throughout my teens and into my adult life I’ve been fortunate; I suppose you might say, however crude that sounds. The closest person that has died was my maternal grandmother, Susan Jane Robinson. I was not as close to her as my sister was, at least not in my adult years. As a kid it’s different, with grandparents and their auras of wonder. Things can change when you lose the naivety of childhood. Out of respect that is all I shall say. During the process leading up to her death and the entire whirlwind after, again my detached analytical side kicked in. I’d like to think this helped my sister, my mother & her brother as they took the death hard, each in their own way.
So why does the death of an amazingly gift writer seem to affect me harder? It’s because of what he showed me, what he leaves behind and the fact that there will be no more new stories. That’s what it’s about though, isn’t it? What we leave behind and how we lived our life. Ray Bradbury left behind so many fantastic, scary, wondrous, touching tales that will last many centuries after he’s gone. He lived life to its fullest, never settling or doing anything he didn’t love doing. Something I ask myself nearly every day. Am I doing what I love? He didn’t tell us anything new, anything we didn’t already know, not really. It was all there for us to see, if we just looked. Deep down we know but refuse to see, to accept the truths we’ve buried. For example, go read one of his books, “Fahrenheit 451”, “Something Wicked This Way Comes”, its companion “Dandelion Wine”, “The Martian Chronicles” or “The Illustrated Man”; and I dare you not to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of denial and ignorance. It wasn’t just about what we are, but also who we could be, who we might or never were. He saw the pain and horror of life, but thru a filter of child-like glee and wonder. He didn’t do this to block out all the bad things in life, rather to act as a balance and more so, a reminder that we must enjoy what we can of life while we’re here. I hope that we can ALL do this more often. I will wrap this up with a quote from, arguably, his greatest story, and my all time favorite book “Fahrenheit 451.” After all, who other than Ray, himself, could sum up what his death means.
“And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn’t crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them the way he did. He was individual. He was an important man. I’ve never gotten over his death. Often I think what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands? He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on.”
Monday, March 19, 2012
is that a tambourine?
As I enter deeper into my 3rd decade on Earth, I feel as though I've accomplished much...yet not enough. Some necessary changes are starting. They will be tough, there is no doubt of that. I've decided to cut back on my bi-polar meds for a variety of reason I won't get into, but I will say it is for good reasons....right reasons. Also, I finally got a part-time job to earn more $$$ to, hopefully, improve my financial situation. It's new. It's different. I am a fish out of water. I am the new guy. All completed opposite to my full-time job. I'm now averaging around 60-65 hours per week. My weeriness amazes me, I'm worn out, sleep deprived, tired, out on my feet, sore....oh you get the idea. Everyone around me from my fantastic girlfriend to my sister to my friends all think I can do this. Why can't I? I suppose, as with all new situations, there is be some time for adjustment. I just want that over, as of 2 weeks ago. haha. I'm looking, as ever, for that balance. It's like trying to tune a radio to a station but you don't know where it is on the dial. I know it's out there. That one song that I will know when I hear it. And here's the thing, no one can find it for me. Maybe guide me a bit or give slight direction. Only I know the melody. Only I understand the lyrics. As I keep pushing thru and pushing on, I will keep listening. Here's hoping I never go deaf.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
The Seeker or... Roger & Pete, please don't sue me.
They call me the seeker. Actually....no they don't. I'm called many other things ranging from the obvious to the esoteric, nothing so cool or specific. It is true though, I am a seeker. I seek knowledge on anything interesting that might pop up in my life. I seek understanding of this chaotic world and all of us, seemingly, brain-damaged apes that dominate it. That one often results in another type of seeking, that of peace/contentment/happiness/calmness/leave-me-the-hell-alone-for-just-30 minutes-but-don't-be-offended-I-still-care-ness. What's interesting is seeking knowledge can both help & hinder that 2nd type. But, it's all in how it's used, isn't it?
When I find some knowledge I think will be useful I hold it close; writing it down or sharing it with others I feel will benefit, continuing the age-old tradition of the oral story. (that's my story and I'm sticking to it) Though it sometimes bothers people who don't have time or patience to hear it. I try to keep my enthusiasm in check base on what I've learned.
When I seek the 2nd type I most of the time do NOT find what I'm looking for. (maybe call me Bono?) So, the result is finding just enough to make me less miserable with just small doses of order to fight the virus of chaos. It's a one side battle, ladies & gentlemen. Sometimes. I can't balance the world, so I try to balance myself and how I view things and, especially, how I deal with them.
The 3rd type I seek is rarely found, much like owl's teeth. When I do find it, whether within myself or with someone else, I try to hold on to it, cultivate it into something potential wonderful. I've been finding that more with other people, new friends I've met, and with my amazing (not a good enough word, really) girlfriend. Now, before you say "wait! you shouldn't look for such things only in others!" This is true. And I don't. However, by finding it in others it shines a light or starts a spark of something within me. What I have found in my seeking within others reminds me of things I've forgotten or once thought lost.
With all of that being said, I'm not done. Not by a long shot. I will always continue to seek under chairs, tables, in music, books, people, animals, plants, space or deep within my well lighted and/or heavily shadowed inner spaces.
When I find some knowledge I think will be useful I hold it close; writing it down or sharing it with others I feel will benefit, continuing the age-old tradition of the oral story. (that's my story and I'm sticking to it) Though it sometimes bothers people who don't have time or patience to hear it. I try to keep my enthusiasm in check base on what I've learned.
When I seek the 2nd type I most of the time do NOT find what I'm looking for. (maybe call me Bono?) So, the result is finding just enough to make me less miserable with just small doses of order to fight the virus of chaos. It's a one side battle, ladies & gentlemen. Sometimes. I can't balance the world, so I try to balance myself and how I view things and, especially, how I deal with them.
The 3rd type I seek is rarely found, much like owl's teeth. When I do find it, whether within myself or with someone else, I try to hold on to it, cultivate it into something potential wonderful. I've been finding that more with other people, new friends I've met, and with my amazing (not a good enough word, really) girlfriend. Now, before you say "wait! you shouldn't look for such things only in others!" This is true. And I don't. However, by finding it in others it shines a light or starts a spark of something within me. What I have found in my seeking within others reminds me of things I've forgotten or once thought lost.
With all of that being said, I'm not done. Not by a long shot. I will always continue to seek under chairs, tables, in music, books, people, animals, plants, space or deep within my well lighted and/or heavily shadowed inner spaces.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Shawn Johnson and the Adventures in The Wild Wizardy Imagination of J.K. Rowling
While I'm familiar with the Harry Potter movies, I've not read the books until now. Yes I've been told of the extreme greatness of the novels, so I'm checking it out. This first book was just ok. Not bad or great, just alright. But that is fine as this an intro the HP world and its fascinating characters. I know that as the series goes on and builds I will see more of the hype I've heard of. I was reminded of how annoying Hermione was to start with. Also, Neville Longbottom! I love seeing the building blocks forming for one of the best characters. The same can be said for my all-time favorite HP character, and one of the greatest, tragic characters in literature; Severus Snape. Onward and upward!
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/252207291
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/252207291
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)