By now everyone knows about the death of acclaimed cellist Mstislav Rostopovich at age 80. Funny enough, I knew of him first as a strong figure in the anti-Soviet movement before I realized he was also a incredible musician.
He was a friend of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, and helped investigative biographer Edvard Radzinsky get ahold of some technically off limits documents. (For those of you who don't know Radzinsky's work, I would recommend his The Last Tsar, by far the best biography of Nicholas II I have ever read. He also has written great works on Rasputin and Stalin.) Rostopovich also performed Shastakovich's unmistakably rebellious symphonies with relish.
With Boris Yeltsin dead, Russia has lost two products of the Soviet dominated 2oth century, men who were willing to stand up and fight against injustice. Not too encouraging, given the troubling inclinations of her current president.
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
I think Eliot spelled cruelest with two l's because he was mad that his name only had one. That's my stab at being a poety critic.
I love this time of year...colors are all intense and varied, the weather alternates between heavenly and apocolyptical, and I feel like I'm receiving some cosmic stream of energy. Maybe it's from a whirling dervish!
I refereee soccer games every Saturday, and absolutely love watching the ten year old boys playing their hearts out. Especially when it's a tubby Mexican kiddo who can't run very fast but has better footwork than anyone else on the field. That was hilarious. He may have been un poco gordo, but could dribble circles around all the skinny white kids. He even chipped it over one guy's head, spun around him, and kept going. Incredible.
It probably results from my love of spectacular sports stories, and Man O' War's record (21 starts, 20 wins) and fabulous name made a definite imprint on my memory. The other horse I remember kind of growing up with (stories of him, I never saw him race) was Secretariat. I used to love hearing the story of his winning of the Triple Crown and especially the famous Belmont Stakes race. Which was why I was so excited to find this. I finally got to see it! (Ah, I love YouTube) And then this was pretty awesome too, considering that those are just about the only horses I really was at all attached to. (You just have to ignore the appalling spelling in that one).
So that's about as far as me and horses go, but I do think that those guys were way cool.
I just remembered that TIE fighters make an excruciating screeching sound when they go flying around...in space. Isn't space a vacuum? Shouldn't there be...no sound? And you shouldn't be able to hear the lasers either. It doesn't make any sense. And then (surprise surprise) I was watching Star Trek last night and the intrepid crew started panicking because they were....low on fuel??? You're in space, for crying out loud! Why don't you just turn on the engine, and then turn it off? There's no air resistance, and nothing to slow you down.
It frustrates me.
For those of you who notice "distinct veins" in my writing, my deepest apologies. I had been brooding about this and needed to let it out.