So I've just started to delve into Wicked, the literary remodeling of the Land of Oz. It takes the beloved story of a girl and her misfit friends and adds controversy, excitement, and evil. It's really quite an interesting view into the potential history of the Wicked Witch of the West.
I'm not terribly far into it, but I'm starting to think of other fairly well-known fairy tales which I could possibly manipulate in such a way to create a "Wicked" version. Any ideas?
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Never Forget 9/11
It's too bad that patriotism only shines through on days such as this, only to hide in the shadows until the next national holiday. We cannot be weekend patriots.
On this day eight years ago, our world changed. America, the nation founded upon principals of freedom, constructed atop a rock of ever enduring hope and prosperity, was brought to its knees. Three thousand souls perished, and reminded us all just how fragile our world is. Fear, something our generation has not known, was introduced with such shocking force that no one could anticipate its power.
Yet this fear, the objective of terror, was quickly exterminated as millions of Americans bonded together in patriotic unity not seen in half a century. This time, the war was not on foreign soil, thousands of miles from our peaceful suburbia. This time, they brought the war home, to our land, to our country.
And now as the years fade into history, Americans forget the importance of that dreadful day. A new generation rises, too young to remember the live footage and feelings of disbelief and despair. It is our fault that they do not remember. It is our fault if we let ourselves forget. Why must we always fall before we rise up in unison? Why must we suffer consequences before we see the light?
Let us remember, always. Let us forget the meaningless things in life, that we may seek after the goodness which our country allows. Let us pursue our dreams, develop our talents, and most of all, let us seek to do good. If we do not these things, we take our freedoms for granted.
May we never forget 9/11 and what it means to be American.
On this day eight years ago, our world changed. America, the nation founded upon principals of freedom, constructed atop a rock of ever enduring hope and prosperity, was brought to its knees. Three thousand souls perished, and reminded us all just how fragile our world is. Fear, something our generation has not known, was introduced with such shocking force that no one could anticipate its power.
Yet this fear, the objective of terror, was quickly exterminated as millions of Americans bonded together in patriotic unity not seen in half a century. This time, the war was not on foreign soil, thousands of miles from our peaceful suburbia. This time, they brought the war home, to our land, to our country.
And now as the years fade into history, Americans forget the importance of that dreadful day. A new generation rises, too young to remember the live footage and feelings of disbelief and despair. It is our fault that they do not remember. It is our fault if we let ourselves forget. Why must we always fall before we rise up in unison? Why must we suffer consequences before we see the light?
Let us remember, always. Let us forget the meaningless things in life, that we may seek after the goodness which our country allows. Let us pursue our dreams, develop our talents, and most of all, let us seek to do good. If we do not these things, we take our freedoms for granted.
May we never forget 9/11 and what it means to be American.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
The First of Many, I Hope
This is a home for my randomness, or so that I may encourage my own randomness.
"Where never lark, or even eagle flew" is a line from a poem entitled "High Flight," by John Gillespie MaGee Jr. The title is to infer that this blog will allow me space to present thoughts and ideas that are different from many, and similar to few. Beyond the lark and the eagle's domain, there is something remote and highly sought after, something mysterious and gratifying.
It is, I hope, a place where creativity can grow, and a place where I can seek refuge from reality.
"Where never lark, or even eagle flew" is a line from a poem entitled "High Flight," by John Gillespie MaGee Jr. The title is to infer that this blog will allow me space to present thoughts and ideas that are different from many, and similar to few. Beyond the lark and the eagle's domain, there is something remote and highly sought after, something mysterious and gratifying.
It is, I hope, a place where creativity can grow, and a place where I can seek refuge from reality.
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