Whitman probably would not have considered himself a teacher, let alone the guru of words and wisdom that the modern world has made him out to be.
In his own time, Whitman was, by all accounts, the simplest of men. He was not stuffy or pretentious, as we are when we sit in our classrooms debating the intellectual finer points of whether or not Whitman might have been gay.
He probably would have laughed had he known entire classrooms of students would spend hours dissecting the meaning of his punctuation and his reasons for ending a line. “Who was the 29th bather?!” we ask wretchedly, clawing at our eyes and throwing our hands to the sky in exasperation.
The funny thing is that Whitman probably didn’t even know.
Poetry is transmutation, an incarnation of abstraction into the tangible plane of mind and linear ideas, and poetry by its nature does not bend to our linear laws, nor is it defined by them. The laws serve poetry in conveying its purpose, and the way they fall and are constructed so delicately infers to us, like fingerprints, traces of the soul of the poem, but they are not in essence the poem itself- only fragments. A poem is not its words, symbols, punctuation breaks, or any other syntactical components. A poem is an energy above, within, and without all of that.
The poem is what you hear between the lines, that which can only be implied in words — that which speaks directly to the soul, like sacred wind chimes, an ancient siren cry of summoning to our inner self that knows more than world, “Wake up.” That is the part of us that receives poetry, if we are receiving it properly.
Much like music, which is not simply heard, it is utterly felt and inspires raw physiological and spiritual reactions within us, and draws out emotion endlessly like water from a well. Have you ever heard a song from your childhood, and tried not to feel anything as you listen? It is impossible.
Though we live mostly in mind (thanks to modern life) and to a small extent within the body, most of who and what we are is completely and utterly Soul.
Soul masters all of that, and mind can say, “Feel nothing,” but the Soul will not obey, as it cannot be extracted from its other manifestations. Soul is inherent in all things, the thread which flows within and between all entities, and we cannot escape it, for we are Soul. All of the universe is Soul.
It is to our Souls that Whitman speaks most directly and profoundly. It is our Souls upon which he impresses an indentation of exotic and primal laughter, and it is our Souls to whom Whitman sings. He flirts with our souls, mesmerizes our souls, challenges our souls, calls our souls into our bodies with his words like fast magnets zapping consciousness into our molecules and presence into our nucleotides and irrefutable magic into our moments. It is the Soul within us we find so entranced by the words of Whitman.
Whitman would not have called himself a teacher, for he laughed at the Men of Mind peddling words and playing Jenga with interlocking thoughts and dreams and transmutations endlessly, day after day, forever entranced with analysis and forgetting to live. Whitman would have said that it is better to play in the grass than to read a hundred books, or better to sing a song of joy than to study for hours and master the algorithms of matter and math.
He had this very Christ-like notion of drinking from the raw tap of human experience, a very Taoist ideal of this very moment and all that it contains being the infinite sum total of all things.
Such a mentality is the “Stop” at the end of the telegram; such fullness needs no motion. Yet through motion, and the interplay of opposites, smoke curls, flowers bloom … and the universe comes to know itself.
Every expression, every action, every entity, every tangible and intangible thing are simply the universe laughing, playing with herself, stretching her arms out, writing a poem in a thousand different languages and via a thousand different mediums.
Such is the myriad dimension and delirium of the canvas of life. Its nature cannot be known in mute, fixed laws. It is not mechanistic, dead, or inert. It cannot be known by grammatical structure or the arrangement of words within poetry.
It cannot be dissected by taking apart all the components of a radio, hoping to find music, or disentangling from the thoracic cavity all the organs of the body, hoping to find life. You will find only machines and matter there.
Life cannot be mapped, cannot be defined, cannot be extracted, cannot be indirectly known. You must know it yourself. You must meet it for yourself. You must hear it yourself, drink from its well yourself, and play with it yourself. Life cannot be taught, you must touch it yourself.
It is not earned, or learned, or acquired, and Whitman would have laughed at any who claimed him as teacher of elite sacred spiritual arts. Whitman’s spiritual truth was knowable to every human, and to every nonhuman despite their category, already.
Whitman’s spiritual truth was Being Alive. Whitman was, above all, truly the teacher of that. We can eviscerate and analyze his poetry for years yearning to tap the meaning from its component parts, but that is not where his teaching lies, and that is not how we will know it.
“Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?/ Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems” (section 2: line 18-19).
We have felt so proud of our meanings, but the joke is that there’s nothing to discover or extract from them that we don’t already have — there is nothing we can ever find whose origin is not the same as our very own.
“Stop with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems.” Stop with me, and feel for yourself. Breathe for yourself. Touch for yourself. Drink for yourself. Taste it yourself.
Do you feel that? That is meaning. Do you hear that? That is the poem. And of that, above all, we can be our only teacher.
I do not envy the modern lifestyle. Working a repetitive, soul-sucking job where humans are required to behave like machines makes me feel dead inside. As Whitman alludes to many times, there is no insignificant job, and in any job I can use my imagination and share goodwill with all the world.
However, modern society will absolutely make you feel like a machine, if you let it. If you inside your little box-house long enough, staring at your picture-box, and eating things out of boxes, and arranging all your ideas into boxes inside boxes into boxes. You will forget that things without boxes can exist. Humans were not made to live life out of boxes, and boxes are not our natural state. It chokes you, for a reason. You feel constrained, for a reason. You feel tired, for a reason. You forget that you can unplug the box any time.
At least, I forget.
I forget, sometimes, that I am not a machine. Everything I do and say is so task-like, preprogrammed, and empty. I have to entirely unplug myself from social convention to, as Whitman says in Section 5, line 3, “loose the stop from [my] throat.” How dangerous is such an act. How deviant it is to wildly abandon the groupthink, without hesitation or apology. Every day I find myself straddling the juxtaposition of these two opposing principles, awkwardly balancing a medium between the two, so I can be free and yet stereotypically functional within the world. Deep within, or really not so deep at all, I yearn to be wildly free. Yet one cannot be wildly free and still be nondescript about it. How dangerous it is to unplug oneself entirely. How fundamentally disruptive to modern society.
Whitman’s teachings are fundamentally disruptive to modern society.
The modern way does not “ask the sky to come down to my good will,/Scattering it freely forever” (14:18-19) nor “tenderly…use…curling grass” (10:12). To embrace the sky is absurd. Society regards the sky as an inert ceiling, not a door. The curling grass exists for lawns and is meant to be mowed, of course.
Not according to Whitman. In a highly controversial move, Whitman tells us in Section 5, line 3, “Loafe with me on the grass.” To loafe means to just kind of hang out without any objective at all. When was the last time someone told you to just go hang out aimlessly? We are more familiar with the scolding, “Work harder,” than with someone telling us to do the complete opposite of work. Work less, says Whitman.
The feeling of Song of Myself is songlike, and slow. It is rhythmic and unhurried, like a long summer’s day spent loafing in the grass, celebrating your own existence for exactly no reason at all.
In the modern world, we are discouraged from doing anything for no reason at all. Everything must be productive in some way. Everything must be busy, and fast. All of my life is fast. Even my mind is fast. Even when the noise and stimuli stop, still my mind is chattering away like a sick seizing ape bouncing neurons around, deluded with the importance of objects, drunk on the toxicity of Normal and Daytime. Better to be an animal, as Whitman frames so beautifully in Section 32, lines 3-6:
They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied with the mania of owning things.
We are erratic, thirsty, yet perpetually dehydrated beasts gone absolutely mad with the mania of owning things. Whitman makes an astounding proposition in Section 2, when he beautifully satirizes the fallibility of his own medium, poetry, which is revered and consumed by so many, who fuss over its mysteries, hoping to extract from it “the origin of all poems.” In line 20, he invites us, “Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems.”
In other words, how do you get where you are going? Stop.
II. Stop.
Can you imagine the implications if we were all to suddenly, stop? If we put down our books, abandoned our work, and decided to wildly, recklessly play? How ever could society function if we all just looked at flowers? How on earth could we ever produce a commodifiable good?!
Perhaps, instead, a better question, is why is the production of commodifiable goods the ultimate goal of society? Is that really the best we can do? Is productivity and efficiency and material output really the prime potential of the oh-so-great and sentient homo sapiens?
Do we not call ourselves “enlightened?” Do we not call the era of rapid philosophical development the Enlightenment, out of which, we are taught, sprang the modern material era in which we now live? And if that is so, and modern man is, unlike his planetary cohabitants, enlightened in his world of materialism, then I ask you, where is that light?
I do not see it.
I see a world that is hungry and sick in its soul. I see a world of consumers and producers. I see a world of souls hammered into commodifiable goods and dissected to extract their most profitable components.
I see minds like televisions that have been on mute for years, and don’t even remember they are capable of song, so they purchase a laugh track for $9.99 to distract them from the SILENCE that is ABSENCE that we have not heard in so long that we are terrified. We hear the sound of our own breath, and ask in horror WHAT IS THAT MONSTER. We hear the music of the mind and it is alien. It is raw and real, alien and un-plastic, the same electric ahhh that hums through all of nature, innervating every membrane of dimension into sensation and form, and we cringe at it, because we do not know it.
We cringe at it because, like an animal kept in a cage its whole life, we neither understand nor desire to know the world beyond the cage. We are penitent, pitiful pets of some sadistic extradimensional creatures who feed on fear and hatred and by god we keep them well-fed. How disgusted we are by anything that lives outside the cage. How fearful we are of those beasts. How wild they are. How uncontained. How unenlightened. How vibrantly and violently the electricity of Being Alive pulses through them like electric shock even to the blazing profusion of a growl or a shriek? How uncivilized their UTTER ALIVENESS.
Look into the eyes of your cashier clerk or picture of success and tell me we are not dead.
Do you regularly, as in Section 1, line 1, “celebrate [your]self”? How often do you do that every day? Do you, as in Section 1, line 4, “loafe and invite [your] soul”? Have you invited your soul to be in attendance today? Would you even know its address?
Look into your own soul, and tell me, do you even recognize it? Or is it a formidable foreign land to you, once whose labyrinths you have yet never to wander? Have you met yourself? If you did, would you like her? Have you yet to meet a flower? Have you met the acid sky, the spray-paint grass, even the soft warm woodness of your desk? Have you met it for what it is, stopped to feel it and only it and do no other thing, felt and breathed its every scent and color with the unjudging eager attention of a lover (Section 3: 20-21, 24:48)? Have you even met your own body so? Or do we know these things only to be Things, as extensions to be utilized for production, as inert meat and matter, COMMODIFIABLE GOOD? Where does commodifiable good end and Realness begin? Is it the physical objects in closest proximity for which we most greedily perspire? Is it with our bodies? Is it with our minds? Are any of these things even ours anymore?
In Section 30: 1-3, Walter reminds us:
All truths wait in all things,
They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it,
They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon.
These questions Alice raises, and these precepts Walt proposes, are absurd and dangerous. Of course modern life is fulfilling. To hypothesize that it is not will create an error in the algorithm.
III. Play.
Let us dissect this hypothesis with the obstetric forceps of a surgeon and extract the cancer of fragmented meaning that so errantly has grown here. The cancer of inspiration can prove fatal to the organism, and is almost universally malignant to the capitalist-industrialist paradigm when left unchecked. Passion unbridled and a wild MOAN, an errant SHRIEK, an existential YAWN, a SITTING ON THE TABLE AT THE AIRPORT have been known to rapidly metastasize into the infectious WILD of a Being-Poem; and men will awaken to their own breath and love the taste, and they will laugh, and women will realize they are men, and men will realize they are cats, and children will giggle at the poem of this in the airport, and everyone will run around; and no one with a PriceTagNameTagVeryImportant will tell us to “stop,” and if they do, we will not hear them; or if we do, we won’t know how; because we have unstopped, and now unlive our lives in a single molecule of stretched-out simultaneous moment.
All of essence is available to us Forever And Ever Always Now in every flower and each breath (“All truths wait in all things,” says Section 30: Line 1), we need not wait. We need not painstakingly throttle life by the throat, choking it, dying to extract a droplet of Essence to haphazardly drip from its sponge-like skeleton for … we are so thirsty and the world is dead, and sick, and we meet ourselves at night in the blank white walls, and we meet the kiss of God in the sinews of our sweat within the grinding mechanical motion between Must and Pain; we feel Her So-Invasive Intimate Kiss, and it feels profane, it is so Everything, and I have stared at this screen for so long. My eyes burn, I stare and see nothing. My wild dendrites of yearning and yes are numb, and clipped, and freshly manicured for academic-industrial-workplace Exhaustion; drink this cup until you fulfill you unless you’ll drink it or die (or maybe you won’t, but Nobody’s lived to tell the tale). Is this not nonsense?
When the modus operandi of logical truth is actually nonsense, is absurdity not the only way to defy it? Is it not revolutionary to be absurd? Are Whitman’s truths not absurd by the standards of society?
“I exist as I am, that is enough/ If no other in the world be aware I sit content,” he declares in Section 20: line 25. Wait, what? What about all the things you need? What about all the things you have to do, all the modifications you need to make to your body, all the goals you need to accomplish, all the toys you need to buy? What about all the friends you need to impress, all the legitimacy you need to obtain through the recognition of other people? To say “I am enough,” is a counterculture act.
Please, the world will say, package up your aimless abstractions and deposit them in the Recycling for they are simply cluttering up productive space which could be occupied by an advert. You’re not good enough, be hungry, and purchase some accessories on your way out the door. Nobody has time for your abstractions, Alice. They are absurd, and you will be expelled from the belly of the capitalist organism like an acidic virus we must vomit up. You will destroy it from within.
Would such expulsion really be horrific? Is freedom from containment, in fact, the worst we fear? If that is why we are not wild, then, by all means, please expel me! If that is all we fear, why don’t we do the ridiculous things we always want, and sit on tables supposed to be chairs? Stop showing up? Check out completely? Look at a flower? Drop our tools? Forget our plans? Put down our phones and drink the sky? Would that really be so bad?
We live inside of paper plastic prop-up houses fabrications of fabrications of fabrications of fabrications of something that resembled a Real Thing once. Now it is “more convenient,” and dead, and made of Styrofoam. Mankind is dead, and our minds are made of Styrofoam. We don’t dislike it, because we don’t remember how. We are Styrofoam bubble-wrap brains that pop Reaction at pre-programmed synapse site. We simulate original emotion, but oh, it has been ages since we have felt a real thing. We numb the impossibly potent penetration of syringical injection of love and dying (events that command us to genuinely feel) with So Sorry Feed Me Baby Eat Me Like A Rich Food (consume another person). We have packaged even that into commodity.
In the crevices between the tectonics plates of moment, we feel the ache of dissonance on occasion. It grinds like Old, though we are Yet Young, and have forgotten. Ever since we picked up tools and found our “civilization,” we’ve forgotten how to delicately finger the velveteen skin of a single blade of baby grass. We have forgotten how to loafe. We have forgotten that we are happy; and that this is not a test, this is a game; that we are not mute, we are laughter; and all the world breathes with us in this music we need only to hit
play
play with me, stay with me, flowy lotus of nonprocedural juxtaposition of chaos and complexity utterly devoid of catechism drippingly infused with sex-sweet nectar of holographic need (only, now.).
Such is my prayer, my invitation, and such was Whitman’s.
The invitation begins, “Forget your plans.”
This invitation is to my own soul, my own soul only. This song is to you, my soul.
I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you. (19:17)
I am telling you, my soul. Hear my invitation, for I love you. I recognize your presence. I have not heard your voice in so long. I have told you my secrets. Now, I can do nothing but listen.
Ludwig van Beethoven is one of the most renowned composers and pianists to walk the earth, even nearly 200 years after his death. Credited with writing 9 symphonies, 32 piano sonatas, 5 piano concertos, 16 string quartets, and countless other works, the man left quite an impact on the world. However, the life of this musician was not as splendid as one might be inclined to assume.
It is unknown for certain when Beethoven was born, but due to when the musician was baptized — December 17, 1770 — it is readily accepted he was born on or very near December 16, 1770. He was the oldest of three children born to Maria Magdalena and Johann van Beethoven in Bonn, Germany. Beethoven was introduced to music by his father at a young age, first in the form of the clavier, and then in the form of the violin. However, this was not a pleasant experience for the boy as his alcoholic father was often physically abusive toward him. There are multiple accounts of the little boy being beaten, deprived of sleep, or thrown into the family cellar by his father for any mistakes or hesitation while practicing music. Still, the boy developed not only talent but a love for music as well and performed his first concert at the age of seven on March 26, 1778. His father announced he was only six, because Mozart had been six at the time of his first performance. This ultimately led to Beethoven believing he was younger than he really was, even after being presented with his baptism certificate. It is unknown whether his brothers, Caspar and Johann, were also trained as musicians when they were born.
Meanwhile, the boy was attending Tirociniun, a local Latin school. He struggled to maintain proper grades, as school did not come easy to him. It has been theorized the composer might have been dyslexic. In his own words, “Music comes to me more readily than words.” Beethoven, however, did not have to struggle with school for long. He was withdrawn from school to study music full time with Christian Gottlob Neefe, the Court Organist, at the age of 10. Under Neefe’s wing, Beethoven published his first composition by the age of 12 and became the official Assistant Court Organist in 1784 at the age of 13. Finally, in 1787, the court sent him to Vienna to study music and composition. Legend states here Beethoven studied under Mozart, but there is barely enough evidence to support Beethoven having met Mozart, let alone studied music theory and composition under him during this short time. Only a few weeks later the boy returned to Bonn after receiving word his mother’s health was failing. By this point, he was the one supporting his family as his father’s drunkenness worsened and prevented him from being a productive member of society.
Beethoven returned to Vienna in 1792, hoping to study music under Joseph Haydn, who was accepted as the greatest living musician of that time. He did indeed study piano with the man, as well as counterpoint with Johann Albretchsberger and vocal composition with Antonio Salieri, both of whom were also considered top musicians of that age. Word spread of this rising musician with a gift for improvisation, and Beethoven made his debut in Vienna on March 29, 1795, supposedly performing his piano concerto in C Major. Soon after his debut Beethoven published his “Opus 1,” which turned out to be incredibly successful both in terms of monetary gain and critical review.
Still Beethoven’s success continued to grow, leading to his performance of his Symphony No. 1 in C Major at the Royal Imperial Theatre of Vienna. His performance was incredibly successful, leading to become even more famous and anticipated. This piece successfully established him as one of the top composers of the age, though the musician would later grow to detest that composition.
After this performance Beethoven continued to compose. His work of that era included a popular ballet titled The Creatures of Prometheus performed at the Royal Imperial Theatre of Vienna over 25 times and “Symphony No. 3” (also known as the “Eroica Symphony”), published in honor of Napoleon in 1804 directly after he declared himself emperor. The “Eroica Symphony” yet again established Beethoven as something spectacular. This piece was incredibly different from anything that had been composed up until that time. In fact, it was so different in style during rehearsals the musicians struggled to understand how it was to be played.
After this, Beethoven decided he was ready to leave Vienna. Before he could do so, his friend Countess Anne Marie Erdody struck a deal with him. As long as he stayed in Vienna he would be paid a large annual sum, allowing him to live without worry of supporting himself or his family. By accepting this deal, Beethoven became one of the world’s first independent composers, not working for a church or any other group. This granted him complete freedom over what he was allowed to write and when he would write. Between his musical freedom and the large sum he was receiving, Beethoven experienced some of the best conditions musicians had been granted up until then.
Unfortunately, things would not continue to be easy for the composer. Around this time, Beethoven realized he was going deaf, though he would do everything within his power to conceal this fact from the public knowledge for as long as he possibly could. The weight of this deafness caused the man to fall into a numbing depression and struggle with suicidal thoughts, as well as an anger and hatred toward mankind. The man had already been an introvert up until this point, but after this he became downright antisocial and hostile. He fought with everyone around him, and he even went as far as to attempt to break a chair over the head of on of his closest and only friends of that time, Prince Lichnowsky. He wrote:
I must confess that I lead a miserable life. For almost two years I have ceased to attend any social functions, just because I find it impossible to say to people: I am deaf. If I had any other profession, I might be able to cope with my infirmity; but in my profession it is a terrible handicap….O you men who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me. You do not know the secret cause which makes me seem that way to you and I would have ended my life — it was only my art that held me back. Ah, it seemed impossible to leave the world until I had brought forth all that I felt was within me.
Despite his increasing deafness and hostility toward the world and everyone who was occupying it, Beethoven continued to compose, at times claiming music was the only thing convincing him to keep going in life and not take his own life. He composed over 100 pieces during this era, ranging from overtures and trios to symphonies and concerti. His work during this time included the incredibly famous and beloved “Moonlight Sonata” and Fidelio, which was the man’s only opera.
One theory for Beethoven’s deafness is arterial disease, as it explains not only his deafness but also his quick temper and moodiness. It is more readily accepted, however, the cause of his hearing impairment and ultimately deafness was the nasty typhus he battled over the summer of 1796.
Beethoven’s challenges continued in 1815 after the death of one of his brothers. He engaged in an enormous custody battle with his sister-in-law over her son and his nephew, lasting for seven years. Ultimately, Beethoven won the legal feud but lost the respect of many of his family members, including his nephew. Soon after this, Beethoven lost the majority of his beneficiaries and began to struggle financially to support himself and the family he felt such loyalty to and responsibility for.
However, Beethoven’s challenges were not over even here. The musician, who was entirely deaf by this point, lost his eyesight as well. What would have ended the musical careers of most composers only seemed to spur Beethoven on. During this period of his life Beethoven composed some of his most beloved pieces, such as his Missa Solemnis. During this period he also composed what can possibly be considered his most famous piece of all time, his “Symphony No. 9,” simply referred to by many as “Beethoven’s Ninth.”
Before going blind, the composer fell in love with a woman by the name of Antonie Brentano. He wrote her a letter over the course of two days in 1812, but he never sent it. The letter stated: “My heart is full of so many things to say to you — ah — there are moments when I feel that speech amounts to nothing at all — Cheer up — remain my true, my only love, my all as I am yours.”
However, nothing would ever happen between the two. Unfortunately Brentano was already happily married when the composer developed feelings for her. It is believed she was the only woman Beethoven could ever bring himself to love.
The musician passed away on March 26, 1827 at the age of 56 in Vienna, Austria due to a post-hepatitic cirrhosis of his liver. Recently scientists examined fragments of his skull. They found high levels of lead, which causes some to believe the man died of lead poisoning instead. However, this theory is controversial and highly unpopular with most, as immediate evidence was found at the time of Beethoven’s to point to post-hepatitic cirrhosis of the liver. Yet another theory for Beethoven’s death is he died of a common cold, but once again this theory is not readily accepted, especially within the medical community.
He died without a family to bear his legacy or a son to carry on his lineage, as he never married or had children of his own, between his distaste for humanity and his supposed relentless heartbreak over Antonie Brentano. The closest thing he had was his nephew, Karl van Beethoven, who still hated him at this point in time. Though he didn’t have a family of his own, he had a large number of supporters. An estimated 20,000 people attended his funeral. The man’s last words were, “Plaudite, amici, comoedia finita est,” which translates from Latin to “Applaud, friends, the comedy is over.”
Beethoven faced many challenges over the course of his life; the odds were almost always stacked against him. Even so, Beethoven worked to overcome all he faced in order to produce the music he so loved. Through every situation, even overwhelming depression, he clung to music in order to find purpose. He faced financial peril, blindness, and deafness, and still the man is known as one of the greatest composers to have ever walked the face of the earth. Ultimately, Beethoven is a perfect example of why one should never allow challenges to stop one from achieving one’s dreams, even when those challenges seem like they should reasonably end all possibility of success, such as deafness to a musician.
Bibliography
“Beethoven Piece Is Discovered After 192 Years.” CORDIS. University of Manchester, 25 Oct. 2012. Web. 20 Sept. 2016.
“Biography: Beethoven’s Life — Ludwig Van Beethoven’s Website.” Ivbeethoven. Ivbeethoven, n.d. Web. 24 Sept. 2016.
“Ludwig Van Beethoven Biography.” Biography.com. A&E Networks Television, n.d. Web. 19 Sept. 2016.
It is important to be trustworthy. When you are trustworthy you tend to have more leeway in life and decisions. People viewed as trustworthy often get more privileges and more freedoms. If people find you untrustworthy, then you won’t be able to do many things in life that are worthwhile. Others won’t trust you with their belongings or want to hang out with you. They won’t trust anything you say or do. They will just think you are trying to get yourself to sound better than you actually are.
There are two primary ways others will begin to view you as trustworthy. One of these is through the character qualities you demonstrate. Some of these characteristics are honesty, dependability, sincerity, integrity, and selflessness. The other primary way is by your actions. Examples of these could be following rules set before you, always telling the truth, even when it gets you in trouble, finishing the tasks given to you, being a good student, and being consistent in work.
In contrast, certain actions can lead to a person being seen as untrustworthy. When you are deceitful to get yourself out of trouble, disobey rules set for you, leave tasks unfinished so others have to complete them for you, are inconsistent at work, in school, or at home, or are disruptive and self-centered, you are viewed as untrustworthy. As previously stated, both actions and characteristics can display trustworthiness or untrustworthiness.
Luke 16:11-12 talks about trustworthiness: “So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?” These verses are saying when we are not trustworthy in handling something obvious like the resources we ourselves have here on earth, other people will not let us use their wealth. They will also be far less likely to trust us with friendship and property they may give you, and instead take things back they had given you. Demonstrating you are worthy of people’s trust is an important task to grow in relationships.
Another great verse that helps us think about trustworthiness is Proverbs 22:1. It reads, “A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold.” This shows having a good name, which is also a good reputation, is one of the best things to have after a relationship with God. A good name is hard to repair once it has been established as untrustworthy. It is hard to replace that perception because you have to gradually show others they can trust you again. It takes time and consistency to make up what was lost. Your reputation precedes you, so if you have a good reputation, you will be known as a trustworthy person by others you may not even know.
One way to know about trustworthiness is to look at people who are and aren’t trustworthy. We can learn much from the examples of others.
Many politicians are known as liars and cheaters; therefore, we tend not to trust any of them. Many try to mislead voters about opponents so they can be believed as the better candidate and be selected for an office. When someone they are supporting is running for an office, they use their power to make them look like they are good candidates and vice versa with candidates they oppose. We know they often make promises, then it appears they don’t fulfill them. This leads to the impression politicians are just out for their own benefit, not for the benefit of the people they claim to represent. This has led people to the assumption many politicians are not trustworthy, coining the term “slimy politicians.” When asked who they trusted, people said politicians would be last, and only 13% of them said they would trust them. This illustrates the fact once trust is lost, it is extremely hard to regain. When promises are not kept, even when there might be really good reasons why because of the deals that must be made in politics, people’s views become established. Thus, the overall perception in our country politicians can’t be trusted exists.
But not every politician has a reputation of lying a lot. One politician who was selfless and definitely was not a liar was known by the name of “Honest” Abe, Abraham Lincoln. The name caught on when Abe was a young boy. As legend has it, it all started when he found some change on the ground and realized a customer had dropped it, so he had left that customer a few cents short. He took the change after work that day and walked all the way to her house just to give her a few cents. Another time, he had given a lady a little bit less tea than she had paid for, so he boxed it up and walked it to her house after work that day. The lady had never even realized she didn’t have all the tea she had bought until Abe brought the rest of it. This reputation followed him into his career as a lawyer and later as the President of the United States. He also stood by what he had said, even at great personal cost, such as his life, during and after the Civil War.
One person who was selfless, and was therefore very trusted, was Mother Teresa. She was trustworthy because people knew she would do what was right for everyone, not just her. At the young age of 18, she decided to devote her life to missionary work for God. In 1948, she founded the Order of Missionaries of Charity. Since she had given up all of her money to charities, she often had to resort to begging for food and supplies on the streets wherever she lived. She said her mission was to take care of “the hungry, the naked, the homeless, the crippled, the blind, the lepers, all those people who feel unwanted, unloved, uncared for throughout society, people that have become a burden to the society and are shunned by everyone.” Her order helped found orphanages, hospices, and charity centers worldwide. At the end of her life, Mother Teresa had founded 517 missions in over 100 countries. For her selfless work, she received numerous awards in multiple countries all over the world, including the prestigious Nobel Peace Prize in 1979. Being given this award among many others shows her selfless work was universal. She wanted to aid as many people as she could, no matter where they lived, and no matter how poor or rich they were or if they could give any money for her services. Mother Teresa is definitely a trustworthy person, as we can tell by her countless actions and deeds for the good of others.
George Washington was a well-known, dependable, and trustworthy man. He was one of the most powerful men in the 1700s. He led the whole army for the thirteen revolting colonies. He could have been the leader of one of the most powerful countries in the world. Instead he decided to turn the power down and let the people decide who they wanted to be the president. He was voted to be president, but after his second term, he decided to drop out of leadership and become a citizen because he had no want to be in power for long. He thought a dictatorship was what they had escaped from, so why go right back into one. He helped write the Constitution and he was the president of the Constitutional Convention where the Constitution was written. When he was faced with the decision to be all-powerful and lead a nation until he died, Washington did what almost no man on earth would do. He gave up endless power and let others take it while in certain limitations. This shows he was trustworthy because even though he had endless power under his finger, he chose to limit his and other’s power. This showed he was trustworthy because he led people for their good when others would have led for their own good, not of the people. He chose to make the power of him and others limited so evil would not reign over the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Being untrustworthy can affect you in negative ways. At home when your parents don’t trust you, they might restrict the freedom you have. They may take your phone or computer away, or they may not let you go places. Maybe they won’t let you do sports and other extracurricular things after school or they may not let you hang out with friends. This could also happen when you are hanging out with friends who don’t trust you. They may not want to tell you about things happening, they may not want to help you out when you need it, or they may just not even want to be near you. When you are at school and a teacher doesn’t trust you, he may make you have detention if he even thinks you are doing something wrong, he may assign you extra homework, or he might make you sit at the dreaded front of the class. All these things are ones you can avoid by just staying trustworthy and trying to always do the right thing.
One way you can become untrustworthy is when you exaggerate. When you do, people don’t believe you and they start not being able to trust you. When we exaggerate, we are trying to get people to believe something or someone is better or worse than it actually is. The same goes for when we have to correct ourselves when we are talking. When we correct ourselves repeatedly, even if the change is accurate, people think you again are just trying to make yourself sound better than you actually are. They think, “well why did he say the wrong thing in the first place? Did they just forget, or were they actually trying to make themselves sound better?” People find it hard to trust you because they cannot differentiate between the truth and what is false and made up. We need to make sure our words are precise and easily understandable, or we may find ourselves not trusted by others, even if we have neither said nor done anything wrong.
Being trustworthy earlier in life can be influential in getting a job and other big things later in life. If you are not a trusted person at a job as a younger kid and you are trying to get a job, you may not get a good reference from your previous employer. A poor report from a former employer doesn’t really help when you trying to get a job. It can also affect what happens in a job. When you are in a job and your employer has a shift they need picked up or they have a big project for somebody, if you are not seen as a good employee, you may not get the shift or project. When an employer has seen you as trustworthy, they will be more likely to offer you a promotion or give a good report to your next employer than if you were untrustworthy.
There are a few ways you can tell if you are trustworthy. One way to tell is to see if you seem committed to whatever you are doing. If you are not committed, then you may not be trustworthy to the people who are watching you work. If you have previously held a job and your employer has told you he or she was impressed with your work, then they may think you are trustworthy and capable of doing other jobs. If you are reliable with the little decisions and things asked of you, that will help you be seen as more trustworthy for the bigger things in life. When your actions speak louder than your words, and your actions speak loudly in a good manner, you will be seen as trustworthy, therefore be seen as someone who can take on big responsibilities. One other way is by just asking other people you trust to give you a straight answer about you being trustworthy or not.
There are many reasons someone might choose to be less than honest. Some reasons you may try and get by without telling the truth are because you want to look cool in front of your friends, you may want to escape punishment, you might want to get out of doing something, or you may want to get benefits you only get if you aren’t honest about something. You may think it helps in the short term, and maybe it does, but in the long term, it will only hurt you. I know some people are more trustworthy only around parents or only around friends. I personally think I am one of the people who are more honest around parents than friends. I think this is because I feel if my friends really knew about why I can’t do everything, they may not respect me or want to hang out with me at all. I feel like I can be more open with my parents because they can help me through anything that is happening, even if they are not happy with why it is happening.
This all leads back to what Jesus says and how He wants you to live. You should be trustworthy and not be lying or doing wrong things just to feel more accepted and to look cooler. Even if you don’t think anyone will see and it won’t be bad, little things turn into big things and God sees everything. You need to know we are being watched and judged by God even when nobody else is.
What happens in your childhood sticks with you when you are an adult. Variations of that statement are spread far and wide, so practically everyone understands it. When you grow up believing one thing you tend to keep those beliefs when you are older because it is all you have known or been exposed to. All sorts of things influence kids, whether it be their environment or their openness with their parents. Kids take things in and keep it with them. Now, practically everyone knows that, but not everyone knows the extent of things that make a difference in a child’s life.
In school, it is quite typical to know the questions that come first on your study guide better than the ones at the end. When you have a longer time to study a certain concept than a different concept, you should be able to recall facts about the first topic a little bit easier than the second topic depending on how much you have studied. This is like what happens when you are a child: when you are a child you are given a certain sphere with a specific amount of knowledge within it. Over time, they are given more information, but what they were first given stays with them. The impact the first nugget of knowledge had on them is bigger than the impact from later knowledge added on top of it.
Many things influence a child and that can make the kid grow up to be a great person or an awful person. It is unfortunately common many serial killers had some sort of trauma in childhood, whether it be abuse from an adult, an accident that brought death upon a loved one, or being close to a type of crime, which led to a mental break and brought them to murder. What happened to them when they were kids started the building blocks of a criminal to be stacked on top of one another. The bad stands out more vividly than the good things that happened. This is still the case for most people. It is easier to remember the bad things that happened during the day, is it not? People try to forget the bad things that happen because no one wants to remember sadness or embarrassment, but it sticks out against the good things that happen. It is like seeing one single blue paper laid out amongst a sea of yellow papers: your eyes quickly go to the blue paper that stands out. It is also hard to forget something when you are trying to forget it because you keep thinking about getting it out of your mind, therefore you still have it in your mind.
Your environment is a big part of what happens. It is an important part of the setting in a story. It can help or hinder a person’s journey and it can decide how far they get until they need to stop. Daycares and preschools try to be aware with how clean they are and how they can prevent the spread of germs. At home, however, if a kid isn’t in the richest family on the block then that is not entirely true. If a kid lives in a mobile home where their parents can’t afford all of the cleaning supplies a house should have, then they won’t always be in a clean environment. And when germs are spread around freely, they can get people sick. Children are more susceptible to illness and, depending on where they are, can be sick quite often. People aren’t happy when they’re sick. If you feel nauseous or have just the general cold then you won’t want to get up, go outside, and play with friends; you’ll want to stay inside and sleep off the pain. Kids are known for being rowdy and jumpy, always wanting to play with someone somewhere. A big part of being a kid is having the time and the leisure to play, but when that is taken away what kind of childhood is that? If a child is always sick, then when can they play? They can’t go out and run around when they feel like their stomach is going to implode on itself. They can’t push their friend on the swing when their head hurts so badly that their vision is blurred. How can a child who loves to play, play when they are always in pain? When someone grows up not being able to do the one thing they want to, then when they are all grown up they will most likely have an underlying belief they can’t do what they want to.
Mental illnesses are underdiagnosed in children. It is less common for parents to bring their kid in to a psychologist because they act like two completely different people, than for a teenager to be brought in. Kids emotions are often seen as over-exaggerated and played up. People who are taking care of them use the “I am acting like I believe you, but in reality I think that you are just speaking lies” voice and do not take them seriously. This can seriously hurt a kid when no one listens to them talking about what they feel. No one likes their words to be trampled over by others, but when whatever you try to say is always dismissed, you get used to it. When kids are told they are lying when they are actually telling the truth, it either makes them want to stay silent or makes them not want to tell the truth anymore. If you grow up keeping quiet because you are scared people will ridicule you and say you’re lying, then that mindset will stick with you until you have a reason to change it. Not saying things you want to can keep people from hearing.
Everyone has responsibilities they need to be aware of. New ones can pop up and old ones can no longer be your responsibility. People always need to take care of things. It is harder for some people to see the importance of their responsibilities than others, causing them to just not want to do them. If you grow up with things you have to do or others things won’t work, it allows you to be more prepared for the big responsibilities in adulthood, like bills and taxes. If you grow up without having to do anything for yourself, it will be incredibly hard to know how to do things you need to when you are on your own. The only time you won’t need to know how to do stuff is if you’re rich and have every type of servant there is serve you. Now seeing as that is highly unlikely for most of us, it is beneficial to know how to keep up with all of the responsibilities you have and if you have been taught how to prior to being in the actual situation, you can save yourself quite a bit of stress.
It is well-known military families tend to move a lot. They are stationed different places in the United States or in different countries across the world. Some people who don’t have anyone in the military move around just as much as those who are a part of the military community. When you move, you have to leave friends behind along with everything familiar to you. You lose many connections you had with people, and the ones you do keep are hard to keep strong because of the distance. Many military kids, who have lived in multiple places, stop making connections other kids their age make because they know it is just a matter of time before they move again. This causes them to never have a true feeling of trust. This doesn’t just pertain to military families, it could be people who have some other job responsibility or just like to move around often. Trust is hard to build and takes time, but when you are unable to obtain the time to work on trust, you never build trust. When kids grow up lacking the ability to trust others, they are found to be disconnected and isolated. They might think they don’t need trust, that trust isn’t worth the time, or they will never be able to trust others. They block people off and disable deep connections that could be formed in fear of those bonds being broken later on, because it is what they have known for the longest time.
It is a regular occurrence in many homes for parents to ask their kid(s) how school went today and how they’re feeling. I know a lot of kids lie and say school was good that day and they’re tired because of this and that, when they actually had a bad day because they failed this and was called that. They don’t tell their parents everything that happened because they feel like they would overreact and say something that wouldn’t help their case, not understand in the slightest, or ignore what they say they are feeling and call it “just a phase” or “teenager problems.” Now, I’m not saying everyone does this, I actually have a friend who tells her mom practically everything, but it is a common thing that takes place. Saying someone is lying about their struggles doesn’t make you want to speak about them; it makes you want to stay quiet and act like nothing happened. It isn’t beneficial to keep all of your emotions inside, but when someone misinterprets what you are saying or dismisses it, you might think it is better to hold everything. This kind of mentality is hard to break. Once someone starts to think like that, it is hard to switch that viewpoint.
It is common for babies and toddlers to have separation anxiety. They don’t like it when their parent leaves them and so they end up crying and throwing a tantrum type of thing. Children just don’t like being away from the people who are most familiar to them: their parents. Most of the time, parents just walk away and don’t look back when a crying session occurs, which is beneficial to whomever is watching the child because the baby no longer sees the parent and eventually “forgets” about them. However, there is always that one parent that won’t leave or they will look through a window. This doesn’t help the baby because they can still see their parent and they don’t understand why they can’t just go to them and definitely doesn’t help the person who is watching the child because the baby continues to freak out. Over time, the parents learn to just walk away and out of sight. There are some parents that don’t stop looking through the window, though, and it causes the anxiety to continue on as they grow up.
Everyone gets mad at or at least annoyed with someone at some point in their life. There is always going to be that one person who just gets on your nerves. Now, to be completely honest, kids can be annoying, from toddlers to teenagers and those kids who are about ten. They just seem to get on everyone’s nerves. Some kids can make you mad, whether because they disobeyed you and did something stupid or they made a bad decision. It’s okay to be mad at kids, but while you’re mad you still need to show them love. It is almost universal for kids to think if someone is angry with them then they aren’t loved by that person anymore. Kids need to be shown unconditional love through the mistakes they make. You can’t let them get away with making bad decisions over and over again, but you need to love them through their problems and help them not make the same mistake twice. Kids aren’t the only people in the world who need unconditional love; adults do as well. To have a good family structure, you need to be able to love each other through the problems another person may make. If a kids grows up thinking they will stop being loved when they make a mistake, it is likely for them to have the underlying thought that when they mess up people will leave them because they made a mistake, whether it be simple or catastrophic.
Children’s opinions can be seen as meaningless to those who are older than them. People say kids don’t understand what is coming out of their mouths and dismiss what they have to say. Therefore, to fill up the empty space, they talk about their opinions and what they think is right. Some adults can be quite forceful and get mad if the child doesn’t agree with what they are saying. They just want the kids to believe what they have to say is the only option, when in reality, there are so many different thoughts and expressions they could have that are completely unique compared to other ways of thinking. Having your own opinion can give you confidence in yourself and your abilities. It can make you more passionate about the things you love and more willing to share your point of view with others. But if you are never given the opportunity to form your own special views, then it will be incredibly hard for you to think for yourself. Taking someone else’s opinions and using them as your own never allows you to express what you think and what you want. You can’t express the changes you want to make or the passion you have. And if you grow up being an impassionate slate who takes everything in but doesn’t give anything out, you won’t really want to share what you think when you’re older. You won’t necessarily know how to, seeing as you were used to adults always giving you way to think. That would make it hard to create things that are special to you. You won’t be able to have your own thoughts, and that is not a good way to go through life.
It is common knowledge children collect all sorts of information and keep it with them as they grow up; however, I don’t think people understand how much of it they actually keep. I mean children, as a whole, are curious and want to know all sorts of things about every object, topic, or even person they can get their hands, or mind, on. It has been said children are like sponges: they soak up an abundance of knowledge as a sponge collects a large amount of some type of liquid. Children take in the things they see, hear, and experience then bring them with them as they grow out of childhood. We need to be gentle and loving to kids, because they matter. Just because they aren’t adults doesn’t mean what they say is invalid. They have importance and value in God’s eyes, so they should have importance and value in ours. We should do everything in our power to help them get through the struggles imminent to them.
Nancy Drew! The Hardy Boys! But mostly Nancy Drew! It really is mostly Nancy’s story, with the occasional visit from Frank and Joe, who are concerned with their own side-mystery for most of the story. Nancy is trying to enjoy a little vacation with her buddy on a cruise ship, but suddenly your typical American CIA-kid snob clique shows up and spoils the whole thing, what with their espionage, treason, murder, and the usual CIA-kid snob clique shenanigans. I haven’t read a lot of either Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys adventures (I was mainly a 3 Investigators guy growing up), but this does bring an immediate since of much-welcome nostalgia. Sure, there is mayhem and murder and other unpleasant things (with a bizarre undercurrent of romantic flirtation between Nancy and Frank, despite her immediate commitment to put the kibosh on that … until the next chapter), but this takes us back to the good ol’ ’80s spy adventures of Remington Steele, Scarecrow and Mrs. King, and the like. It was a good time, and this “super mystery” (not all that much of a mystery, really, since the author gives us enough obvious clues and red herrings throughout so we can figure it out fairly easily) sends us back there for a good romp. Though, we are left wondering why Nancy keeps allowing herself to get trapped, bamboozled, and tricked at the end of every chapter.
Agatha Raisin and the Quiche of Death (Agatha Raisin #1), M.C. Beaton ⭐⭐
The title of this book, combined with the early protagonist characterization of Agatha Raisin starting to read lots of Agatha Christie novels, lends one to think this is going to be a humorous spoof romp of a mystery, filled with Magnum-like winks to the audience, classic mystery callbacks, quirky sidekicks and townsfolk, and a whole lot of fun.
That’s not what this book is, however. Agatha Raisin is rather petulant, cranky, and self-centered, despite her purported attempts at self-improvement. Roy, the former employee-turned-periodic sidekick/plot catalyst, seems like he is going to become a fun and helpful foil, but he ends up being a self-serving potty-mouthed jerk. The idyllic townsfolk are somewhat helpful and kind — disappointingly, Ms. Beaton makes the village parson the meanest hypocritical jerk of the regular community, not including the “townies” element. Yet, one must be patient. The poor lady (our “hero”) has just ended a rather long span of her life and is trying to begin a new life, and it sort of looks like she accidentally killed a beloved neighbor guy her first week of her new life, so getting to know people and secure a fresh start is rather challenging. Plus, the first book of a new series is always a bit of a jumble. Fer-de-Lance is certainly not the most enjoyable Nero Wolfe adventure. Thus, if Ms. Beaton tones down the “see how I am suffusing this book with authentic directions and topography because I live there?” descriptions, tones down the unnecessary saltiness, and increases the light attitude the title and heroine’s name intimate, this series may become something interesting. (Since I know there are 20-some entries in the series by now, apparently some people think this character is worth treasuring.)
If Death Ever Slept, (Nero Wolfe #29) Rex Stout ⭐⭐⭐
Another “Archie has to move to a client’s home to do inside investigation story,” this has a bit more to it than some of the others in that Wolfe sub-genre, though at times it does suffer from that sub-genre’s middle-slowdown pacing. The “extra” this one has is mostly at the beginning, with the very humorous clash between Archie and Wolfe about Archie even taking the case or not, eventually leading into Wolfe getting dragged further and further into a case he never wanted in the first place. Another twist is the client is absolutely sure who the guilty party is and insists Archie finds the proof. Naturally, Archie is opposed to this sort of thing, and his personal quest becomes another strange layer of “proving the client wrong” — a client he, too, is not keen on but got mostly to get Wolfe’s goat. Archie investigates the only likely group of suspects in the case, stumbling accidentally onto the title, a line of poetry written years ago by one of the suspects (a mostly unrelated expression at the time of its arrival, considering the crime Archie is investigating is insider trading having nothing to do with death). The case takes menacing and deadly turns, eventually, and Wolfe is dragged fully into it, leaving us guessing the identity of the guilty party (or parties?) more so than usual. Not too shabby, despite the slowdown in the middle.
So mostly fantasy, mystery, some kid books, and a teensy-weensy bit of grown-up history — basically, the book version of the other list I did in this issue. Ah, well. C’est moi. In any event, it’s very nice to be back with you again, friends! See you at Christmas!
A Game of Thrones (A Song of Fire and Ice #1), George R.R. Martin ⭐⭐⭐
I’ll go with 2.5 stars rounded up, how’s that. I’m not really sure I “liked it,” since there is very little content in here (including characters) we are really supposed to “like” in any traditional sense. As the high-school toddlers who recommended (and leant) it to me warned me at the outset, “all the characters take turns playing the bad guys.” And by jingo, they were right. Sure, you may say this is more “realistic and gritty” for a medieval-fantasy-type story, when life is hard and smelly and morals are subsumed under survival. That’s fine. This is a “grown-up” fantasy.
My two main issues, apart from the gratuitous stuff (which is likely the main reason why it is popular on television), are 1) there’s no overt point — the characters are just doing their thing, living their lives, reacting to what has been decided around them. That may add to the “realism” of the world, but I can’t help but contrasting it with The Wheel of Time. That series is much different, and I like it better for those differences: there is a goal, the story is heading somewhere intentionally (even if at a languorously snail’s-crawl pace) — there is a clear “bad side.” The “good side” of TWoT is not so straightforward, so I’m not necessarily faulting GoT for not having “pristine, angelic-like John Wayneish heroes.” TWoT has flawed, “shades of grey” heroes all over the place, possibly just as “Biblically unmoral” as GoT (though much less explicit about it).
Perhaps you’ll say “oh, there’s definitely a point to GoT: Dany is going to reconquer the Seven Kingdoms, marry Jon Snow, destroy the Lannisters, raise Tyrion as Ruler of Everything Else” and all sorts of other stuff only you know about having seen/read beyond book 1. Well, maybe. But I don’t get any of that sense from the book itself. Things just happen. Which leads us to my 2nd issue.
2) most of the book is reaction, not action. Yes, a few key things happen “on screen” (still talking about narrative focus in the novel), but so much of the book is just “apparently some time has passed, and here’s what they are thinking about now.” The passage of time is horribly haphazard, it seems to me (perhaps Mr. Martin has everything calendared out, which would be swell). We get hundreds of pages setting up to Ned Stark’s climax … and it barely is mentioned indirectly when Arya is sort of not looking. Out of seemingly nowhere, armies have started terrorizing the countryside … why, because Catelyn snatched up Tyrion? Is that why? A bit unclear, really. (Maybe I’m just a bad reader.) I understand this can be a fine way to move the story along without going over every single detail (in stark, so to speak, contrast with TWoT), but so much of the “action” in this novel was “reaction,” reaction to things we haven’t really experienced. Maybe you real fans like that; I found it a bit niggling. That’s me. I’m probably wrong. I’ll keep reading the series, though, mainly to see how it ends, I guess (I hear some unspeakably grotesque things will happen soon, so we’ll talk about that when I get there).
A Clash of Kings (A Song of Ice and Fire #2), George R.R. Martin ⭐⭐⭐
Continuing shortly from A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings broadens both the character base and geographic areas of Westeros. New characters such as Stannis Baratheon, Davos Seaworth, and Brienne of Tarth give us more people to actually root for (well, maybe not Stannis) in an otherwise grim and unfriendly land. The Starks continue to encounter nothing but problems: Arya is trapped between King’s Landing and Winterfell, Sansa is trapped in King’s Landing, Robb is doing his thing (he spends almost no time in the forefront of the action in this book), Bran is still crippled though gaining special dream powers, Rickon is still a whiny baby, Jon is still unsure of himself in the wintry regions beyond the Wall, and Catelyn is still choosing to be with her father instead of returning to be with her own helpless children. Meanwhile, things aren’t going much better for Tyrion, even though he has a great deal of power and influence now. Since no one trusts him or credits him, everything he does to save the situation for his family and the city is largely ignored. Daenerys is still over in the sands, trying to find passage to Westeros. The only significant aspect of her storyline this book is the expansion of our understanding of the diverse cultures of Esteros. Other than that, her story is rather uninteresting this time around.
This second book still has the ubiquitous graphic content, no doubt for some sense of “authenticity” of this fantasy world in a sort of Late Middle Ages setting, but it’s not any more than the first book. It’s best to just skim/skip over that stuff and try to focus on what’s going on … which isn’t all that much. This is mostly a reorganizing of players and plots sort of book (until the slam-bang finish).
Like the first installment, a great deal happens between chapters, since we are given the limited perspective of a handful of characters who are usually away from the major events themselves. The “Clash of Kings” is a bit of a misnomer as well, unless by “clash” Mr. Martin means some sort of group, such as a “murder of crows” or “pride of lions.” There is certainly a brief “conference between kings” toward the middle, and a definite clash happens in the slam-bang finish, but it’s not really between kings. Even so, the general story does get a bit more interesting thanks mainly to the new characters. The aftereffects of the poor decisions in the first book continue to resound. Some mysteries are sort of explained, new possibilities for old characters are finally enabled, and desperate situations force our “heroes” into life-altering (again) situations, setting us up for a very exciting third installment.
A Storm of Swords (A Song of Ice and Fire #3), George R.R. Martin, ⭐⭐⭐⭐
Well, that was a bit of a roller coaster. I give it 4 stars not necessarily because I think it is a great book, but it is certainly superior to the first two in the series, acknowledging of course it does not have to do the same things the first two do and benefits from their scaffolding tremendously. Yet, Mr. Martin did not disappoint with that underpinning, which is why it deserves its merit on its own. Some people seem to revel in the “woah, I didn’t see that coming!” aspect of the series — though, taken literally, were that completely true, that would be a sign of poor writing on Mr. Martin’s part, so while most of the surprises are unexpected and we didn’t see them coming, the well-craftedness of them upon further reflection demonstrates them as wholly believable and consistent (even the last page, yes).
This book reminds us more than the first two Robb Stark is not a main character. At best, he is a supporting character. He never has any POV chapters, he spends almost no time “on stage” during Clash of Kings, he is always seen in relation to his mother (not a bad thing, but not a sign of his individuality or importance), and clearly he is young and makes mistakes — but when you are styling yourself as a king, making mistakes along the lines of betraying your most populous supporters is a really bad mistake to make.
Catelyn Stark, likewise, doesn’t seem terribly capable of making proper decisions either. She laments she is far from her two children who need her, acknowledges she doesn’t need to be with Robb, yet she doesn’t go back to protect Rickon and Bran and stays with Robb, effectively selfishly staying with her own father (for whom she does no good either) and away from her family who needs her. In other words, she’s not really any different from her sister. And she may be worse, since she makes almost all of it worse from what she did in book one to Tyrion.
Speaking of Tyrion, this guy really has a rough time in this book. We know he is the hero of the Battle of Blackwater and is effectively single-handedly responsible for saving King’s Landing, but no one else seems to. And things get worse for him throughout the book: everyone abandons him, people who know better allow their minds to be changed about him, and he is literally in the pits as the book closes, with him having lost just about everything.
Meanwhile, Dany has gained quit a bit … but her storyline is again wholly uninteresting and possibly less interesting than Bran’s storyline. She feels betrayed by practically everyone, becomes a misguided social justice warrior (not that I think freeing slaves is a bad idea, of course, just that she is easily distracted from her purpose without thinking through what the next step after freeing the people is — how will they live?), switches heroes, and effectively abandons her main goal by the end. The only good thing about her story is the reintroduction of a noble man we haven’t seen for a while.
Jon Snow does some things in this book as well. They are somewhat interesting and sad, as usual. Sansa is also in this book, mostly passive, as usual.
The new characters in this book are engaging (the new characters usually bring a vivacity to the new book), especially as we get a clearer pictures of the southern kingdoms around Highgarden and Dorne. Truly the highlight of this novel is the Adventures of Jaime and Brienne storyline. It is such an odd pairing but somehow Mr. Martin makes it work very well. The only bad part about it is it ends. Not only is it a very welcome addition to finally get inside the head of Jaime Lannister, but hearing from him what happened before the first novel began sheds some interesting light on these people and their recent history (which is still a bit confusing). Jaime, though, is also part of the saddest moment of the whole book, his final parting from Tyrion — this is such a disappointing moment for many reasons (which is probably why Mr. Martin wrote it the way he did). “Weren’t there other, sadder, more shocking moments in this book!?” you exclaim. Sure, sure, I suppose — but, frankly, none of them (by “them” we mean “deaths of seemingly major characters”) were all that surprising, and more frankly, some of them were rather welcome.
The other odd pairing is certainly Arya and Sandor Clegane, an odd couple that doesn’t have the same vivacity as the Jaime and Brienne Story, but it is much more interesting than, say, everything with Robb, Catelyn, and Sansa, that we are a bit sad when it ends, though glad Arya is finally going somewhere with the possibility of some meaning.
This book is replete with “so close”s — many of the characters who have been trying to reconnect with others are a gnat’s wing away in space and time from achieving some sort of positive reunion … but that’s not how Westeros operates. The spatial proximity is likely supposed to add to the bitterness within us when the planned salvation/reunion occurs, but by this time we have become so inured to it, most of them just end up being obvious foreshadowings of inevitable failures and (perhaps unintentionally) actually cushion the blows.
Let’s see, what else … oh, yes. Davos is in this one as well, being a great bulwark for morality and honor, having lost his “luck” in the Battle of Blackwater (and most of his children) but gaining perhaps a clearer vision of what is right and somehow presses that upon Stannis. Good for him.
We finally get a better look at Wildling life, which isn’t so bad, but discipline, it turns out, is indeed superior to sheer numbers after all (one of the few things Ned Stark seemed to get right). What we don’t get any good look at this time is the Iron Islands. In fact, Balon Greyjoy turns out to be truly the most disappointing facet of this book. Dany is likely the most dull, Jaime and Tyrion’s parting is the saddest, but the Balon Greyjoy facet is certainly the most disappointing.
On the positive side, this book clears up a few mysteries that have been hanging around from the beginning of book one, and we even get an eyebrow raising confession about the incident that started the whole thing even before book one, another of the “we didn’t see it coming … but we should have!” delicious twists. By the end of this book, we have the feeling it’s time for a whole new story. Major shifts have occurred for every major character/location, significant political events will drastically alter the direction of most nations and rulers, magic is increasing in potency, the Others are starting to make their move (though why that is we still have no idea), some wars are over but others are just beginning … the potential at the end of book two has certainly paid off rich dividends in book three, and now we are in for something very different indeed.
Oh, and then the epilogue happened … say what?!
The Fires of Heaven (The Wheel of Time #5), Robert Jordan ⭐⭐⭐
Continuing the sensation of “the end is nigh but we have enough time to sail on ships for a few weeks,” The Fires of Heaven has very little to do with its title, but it does give us the impression things are burning, slowly in some parts of the world and quickly in others. For the first time, one of the major characters, Perrin, is not present in a novel (though Rand was out for most of The Dragon Reborn) — perhaps because some of his events in Shadow Rising occurred during the events of this novel (hard to tell at times) — though he is referenced a couple of times by Mat and Rand. This gives Nynaeve and Elayne more “screen time,” though fans of the series who don’t like Nynaeve will likely find this tedious, especially as most of her storyline in this book feels like a bizarre side-mission (more so than usual with her). Strangely, Nynaeve somehow becomes subordinate to Egwene, who herself becomes a bit of a jerk toward the end, and there is a fair amount of “men are imbeciles” before this book is over (again, more so than usual from the Aiel women).
Pacing is certainly the burgeoning trademark of this series: many would say it doesn’t have any, but they’d be impatient and wrong. As indicated in other book reviews of the series, Robert Jordan patiently spends time with characters, giving us great details on their experiences, far more than most fantasy tales, focusing on that character until, usually, he or she departs the present town for another. This continues for most of this book as well, whether you like it or not: by now, you should be used to it. If you don’t like such focused attention, you probably haven’t gotten this far in the series. This book is about 500 pages of slow-burning set-up, followed by a fairly intense double-climactic pair of showdowns. Some may not like it, but again, that’s what this series is. Oddly, the first of the climactic showdowns happens mostly off-screen, and while that may seem anticlimactic to some, it actually relieves us from a lengthy and tedious battle description, none of which would help advance the characters or stories — perhaps we’ll see it in the movie/series adaptation.
Things get a little saucy in this book, beyond the recent descriptions of female anatomy in the last couple of books, but Jordan is likewise abstemious in his details (while at the same time continuing the fairly ribald attitudes among the Aiel). Some may not like that, but there it is.
While it’s easy to call this another Aiel-heavy book (which it is), we do get the occasional relief by spending time with Suian and her female posse, including Logain, as they have to deal with being stilled, how to survive, what to do next, how to retake the White Tower, and more. This sidestory is both enjoyable (as it brings Gareth Bryne back into our field of vision) and irritating (as the Sisters in Exile treat our heroes poorly, which is always irritating when characters you are rooting for are mistreated especially by “good” people who should know better) … but that irritation gives us a keener look into the world in which these characters live. It matters almost nothing that Suian used to be Amyrlin Seat: she is now stilled — she herself virtually does not matter. She has fallen as far as possible, but she will not let that stop her from protecting The Dragon Reborn … in her own way, of course.
Similarly, there is a bit of a cessation of Moraine’s seemingly-endless secret keeping from Rand, as she finally starts to tell him things, though most of those lessons occur offscreen. At least she is finally explaining things to the Dragon Reborn instead of always trying to run him like a puppet master. By the end of the book we find out why she has changed so drastically, which takes us in a significantly different direction at the end (quite literally for Lan, especially), but at least it is refreshing while it lasts.
The villains don’t get a lot of time here, and in fact the first Trolloc attack doesn’t happen until several hundred pages into the book. This is more of a “there are different kinds of villains” entry in the series, I suppose, as former friends seem to shift their allegiances (or reveal their true colors, shall we say). We get to spend a lot of time with the good guys (except Perrin), and even Mat gets to be heroic again (without ever wanting to). Pretty good book, even if it feels like “nothing happens until the end.” But, whew, when stuff does happen, it’s big stuff.
And we aren’t even halfway through the whole series, yet.
Lord of Chaos (The Wheel of Time #6), Robert Jordan ⭐⭐⭐
It’s possible the Lord of Chaos wrote this book himself. I’m not saying it’s bad — it was pretty good. A few things we’ve been wanting to happen for a number of books finally happen in this one, if in unexpected (possibly less than satisfactory) ways, such as Elayne, Egwene, and Nynaeve reuniting and becoming Aes Sedai and Rand and Perrin meeting again. We have been waiting for these things for a long time, but we still have to wait for Nynaeve to overcome her block (this is really taking too long), Rand is still having trouble communicating with Mat and Perrin (you’d think they’d be used to being ta’veren by now), plus a few other things here and there. Mostly we are irritated (as we always are in series such as this) by the non-heroes getting in the way of what our core group of heroes are trying to do, especially the Tower Aes Sedai, the Rebel Aes Sedai, the Children (obviously) … basically, we are almost cheering for some of the bad guys to start wiping out some of these second- and third-tier characters (is that wrong of me?).
I said the Lord of Chaos may have written this book because structurally a lot of what we have become used to in the previous installments are out the window here: most chapters have multiple points of view (sometimes switching back-and-forth between characters in a single chapter), the prologue also covers several character groups, the Forsaken get a whole lot of screen time (after being mostly mysterious and obscure characters up until basically the previous book) — including POV chapters!, we leave POV characters before characters leave their locations (though, admittedly, not a whole lot of movement happens in this book, not including Rand’s teleporting between cities frequently), and even the Dark One gets a few lines. He is the one who brings up the Lord of Chaos, so I don’t think he (the Dark One) is the eponymous character — who is it? I don’t know. The characters seem to, so that’s fine.
Some fans seem to dislike this one because not a whole lot happens (which isn’t all that true, but it does sort of feel like it more than the last couple) and it seems more like it stops suddenly rather than wraps up a complete tale-within-the-tale like the last few did so well. It’s almost like it’s a part one with Crown of Swords being part two. I liked it, but I, too, sort of felt like something was a bit missing with this story, but I did enjoy a good deal of the moments in it.
It has a lot more humor than the last couple, perhaps the most since The Dragon Reborn, and a lot of it comes from, as usual, Mat, who is increasingly becoming a great character, despite his flaws (and despite the fact most of the other heroes wholly misunderstand and undervalue him; very frustrating, that). Another of the great humorous scenes involves Loial (finally he returns!) and an unexpected arrival of his fellow Ogiers. Though, the humor of it is somewhat dampened by a seemingly dropped plot point: Rand delivers the Ogiers to where he thinks Loial is, finds out later that isn’t so, and instead of trying to rectify it they seem to be just forgotten … I trust Mr. Jordan enough to believe this is not the end of this storyline.
Even though, as I said, it doesn’t “feel” like a lot of movement or progress happens, enough does to feel like we have turned a serious corner (or are a gnat’s wing away from completing the turn) and a new phase of the Wheel of Time saga is about to happen: finally, Rand is getting the attention (and fear) of Aes Sedai (thanks to the appearance and involvement of Mazrim Taim!), progress is moving on Rand’s three wives situation, dissension may be popping in the Children, Elayne and Avienda have reunited (and revealed some needed facts), Egwene has told the truth to the Wise Ones, and a few other conversations we’ve been wanting to happen have occurred (not all of them, of course). Some good things have happened to our characters, though, as always, they have come at a price. And Rand is sort of coming to terms (not the best way of putting it) with the Dragon Reborn … since it may be more accurate to say the Dragon has been reborn inside him and not just as himself!
And, oh yes, the Forsaken are really starting to make some big power play moves. And the Lord of Chaos is out there doing something (maybe). And the Dark One is intentionally allowing Rand to live and fight. That is perhaps the scariest part of this series. Boy, I am enjoying this a good deal.
The Crystal Shard (Icewind Dale Trilogy #1), R.A. Salvatore ⭐⭐⭐
If you are looking for a generally good-natured romp through DnD fantasy, you could probably do a lot worse than the mildly-beloved The Crystal Shard. Sure, in the last almost thirty years, this has become noted for being “the first Drizzt story!” even though he is supposedly a supporting character here before his famed skyrocketed him to greatness. I don’t agree with the idea he is a supporting character here, though: he is in it just as much as everyone else, possibly even more than any other individual. He is single-handedly responsible for the most important “big plot” occurrences, which is not to diminish the important deeds his buddies (Bruenor, Wulfgar, and Regis) do throughout the adventure. He is very much a main character in a novel about these four ragtag outsider buddies.
This is the kind of DnD fantasy I would write, or at least the kinds of characters I usually create: outsiders, yes, but all are generally kindhearted and atypical members of their races/classes; only Regis is really flawed (I don’t use Halfling thieves anyway), and Drizzt, Bruenor, and Wulfgar all show their strong-yet-sensitive sides frequently in their adventures. Because of this absence of nonsensical character conflict (there is some, with some supporting characters, but that’s expected), the book is all the more enjoyable: the good guys are good, the bad guys are bad, people learn their lessons (except Regis), and it’s all very clean, very straightforward, very enjoyable (for what it is, a goofy DnD fantasy romp).
Streams of Silver (Icewind Dale Trilogy #2), R.A. Salvatore ⭐⭐⭐
The second of this trilogy is rather darker than the first: not only are our heroes in much more peril, the peril is far more personal than the hordes of the first book. Poor Cattie-Brie is terrorized for much of the book in very dark and intimate ways, making her sections of the book more disturbing than the general slaughter throughout. Our main quartet of heroes likewise go through personal losses throughout, resulting in a very different ending from the first installment.
Even with the darkness (perhaps because of it), this book feels more like Dungeons and Dragons, likely because the scale is much smaller than the grand battling armies and squabbling nations of the first book. This is a small group of adventurers fighting some battles (not too many), sneaking around gathering supplies and information, facing mysterious forces everywhere they go, and then suddenly a huge dragon shows up and things fall apart quickly.
Bruenor is a bit of a jerk for most of the book, learning too late his friends and comrades today are more important than trying to revive the past, but at least others can benefit from what the friends have learned and suffered throughout this installment. Our heroes are at a very low point at the conclusion of this book, but despite their warranted glumness, we have the sneaking suspicion things will get all straightened out by the end of the final part.
The Road to Oz (Oz #5), L. Frank Baum ⭐⭐
We seem to find ourselves on a bit of a formulaic track by this time. Once again Dorothy and some new people (who don’t really matter) find themselves on a magical trip to who-knows-where that eventually becomes the road to Oz (as the title makes a bit clearer this time). At least there is a bit of a better payoff this time: instead of just getting to Oz then leaving right away (as in the previous book), this time Dorothy and friends get to celebrate Ozma’s birthday (how they know it’s her birthday considering her/his life story is anyone’s guess — perhaps they just declared it is her birthday, which is fine). Toto is back this time, and so are some of the other ol’ friends we haven’t seen for a bit (most notably Jack Pumpinkhead), and most of the A-list friends are back, though just briefly at the end (though “the end” is a rather drawn-out affair). Along the way we meet new sorts of wild and wacky characters, most of them annoying, but all the trials and obstacles are overcome with a snap, a shake, and a sure-why-not and all is well. If you are interested in seeing the ol’ gang again, this is nice, but it’s again mostly a showoff of Baum’s diverse character creative abilities (including some stars of other novels of his, such as Queen Zixi). Not the worst, I suppose, but you are likely going to find the first half far more tedious than the second half.
Oh, hello again. So nice to see you. Here we are, back as a class for the first time in donkey’s ears. I dunno, it’s a saying, I heard. Anywho, it’s great to be back for another season of Redeeming Pandora. We’ve got some fresh voices, some familiar faces, and another season of tricks and treats just waiting to be explored. As is sometimes our wont, we close our season opener with a brief history of some of the books I’ve read over the summer (including some late spring entries, just for giggles). This smattering of reviews is a bit shorter than usual for two main reasons: I read mostly very long books, and I spent a preponderance of the summer playing Final Fantasy XII (while drinking too much Oberweis sweet tea and eating too many miniature pretzels),to be explored next time. For now, sit back and perhaps get motivated to read a few of the works reviewed for your enjoyment.
The Inimitable Jeeves (Jeeves & Wooster #2), P.G. Wodehouse ⭐⭐⭐⭐
In a strange way, picking up a novel-length Jeeves and Wooster story is a bit intimidating: the humor seems best in compact, focused installments such as short stories — why try to expand it to a whole novel? However, Mr. Wodehouse encourages us immediately: this novel, while loosely connected, is mostly a series of vignettes, as efficiently compact and contained as one can hope. What periodic imbrication occurs brings more humor, not prolonged suspense or boredom. Fans of the Fry and Laurie adaptation will recognize a good number of the episodes from this book, as many of the early episodes of the series are taken from the chapters within. It’s difficult to go wrong with a Wodehouse book about Jeeves and Wooster: read this one and find out why.
Airborne Carpet: Operation Market Garden, (Battle Book #9) Anthony Farrar-Hockley ⭐⭐⭐
Another engaging Ballantine Illustrated volume, this brief overview of Operation Market Garden provides a limited eagle-eye view of both sides of the conflict (though mostly the Allies). Having somewhat recently read It Never Snows, wholly from the German perspective of the battle, this Allied-heavy perspective is a helpful counterpart. Farrar-Hockley has certainly read a diverse number of primary sources, quoting frequently from first-hand accounts and diaries of those whose experiences don’t regularly get presented in the grand versions of this engagement. The Polish soldiers and many of the British troops with significant roles are mentioned here, even those who do not get mentioned in other accounts, so Farrar-Hockley’s coverage is widespread (if also somewhat terse, considering the limitations of the picture-dominant format). It’s a good survey of this battle, especially of the Allied leader conflicts in planning and executing the massive endeavor. Ballantine’s Illustrated History of the Violent Century was a great series of series that should not be out of print. Bring it back! (Or, buy every copy you find wherever you go and give them to me.)
On Conan Doyle, Michael Dirda ⭐⭐⭐
Though the title page tells us the subtitle is “The Whole Art of Storytelling,” the real subtitle of this should probably have been “But Mostly On Dirda’s Experience with Doyle’s Works,” instead of its purported subtitle, which is only addressed briefly toward the end. This is not a criticism, mind, simply information for you, the unsuspecting future reader: a good deal of this is a personal reflection of Dirda’s reading youth, his early experiences with Doyle and other mystery/sci-fi/fantasy/pulp adventures in those halcyon days of dime-store magazines and the freedom of youth to travel their hometowns without worry or danger, as well as his later-life experiences with the Baker Street Irregulars, and how he has lead the best life possible (as usually comes across in his collections of book reviews) without sounding too snobby about it.
As usual, Mr. Dirda suffuses his commentary with lists of authors and works you’ll want to track down, which is not always as facile as one might suspect in the Digital Age. You’ll likely want a pen and paper (or word processor) close by to enumerate the suggested readings throughout in addition to the recommended works at the end of his reflections.
The only other flaw (if you might consider Dirda’s personal histories an intrusive flaw) is Dirda’s awkward inability to balance his general enthusiasm for Sir Conan Doyle with his (ACD’s) flaws as Dirda sees them, especially Doyle’s Spiritualism. Toward the end, Dirda attempts to say he respects Doyle’s religious/spiritual beliefs and his willingness to write and act on them so much, but since he (Dirda) clearly disagrees with it, his respect is tepid and nominal at best. He is clearly embarrassed by Doyle’s belief in fairies and even goes so far as to encourage us not to read some of Doyle’s work in certain areas.
The rest, however, comes off as an energetic, enthusiastic appeal to us to delight in more of Conan Doyle’s oeuvre than just Sherlock Holmes (though he clearly wants us to read those works again and again as well). He does mention Jeremy Brett briefly, with mild approbation, perhaps not as much or effusively as some of us may prefer, especially as it is only in passing with Robert Downey, Jr. and that newer BBC modern version. He discusses Basil Rathbone’s movies, too, but his delight is hampered by Nigel Bruce’s Watson (or, at least, the writers’ treatment of the character). On the whole, Dirda is dissatisfied with the history of Sherlock Holmes on radio and screen, which is why he continues to enjoin us to use our imagination with the real stories themselves (along with a few other adaptations he recommends), and especially increase our awareness of the wide range of Conan Doyle works as well: the autobiographies (not the fairy ones), the Challenger stories, Gerard, the historical adventures, the White Company, the horror short stories, and more. But not the fairy works.
Rough patches and all, this is a fast-paced read that does its job well: it motivates us to go read a lot of diverse Sir Arthur Conan Doyle works.
Welcome to part 1 of a non-committally “multi-part” series exploring a few television-related topics. As we all know, in today’s break-neck-speed world of ratings, advertisements, and politically-correct-only viewpoints, sometimes shows get axed before they get a chance to shine. Sometimes, this is a good thing. I don’t watch a lot of contemporary programming, but I’ve seen a few halftime advertisements for programs that have made me (and surely us all) reflect “that won’t last,” and rightfully it doesn’t. The other times, though, the decisions of powerful, nameless, soulless executives are just plain wrong: shows with great premises and engaging potential are ripped from our bosoms too soon and dashed upon the rocks of Impatience and Pecuniary Gluttony before our tear-sodden eyes. I would like to reflect now upon a few of these shows that left us far too prematurely, either during their first season or only after one season (in mostly no particular order).
Honorable Mention: Firefly
I know, I know. “Only honorable mention?!” you say. “That’s the worst and/or best example of this problem!” you say. Such have the people been saying for 15 years, including the other 75% of my birth family. To be honest with you, loyal readers, I never watched Firefly until a few months ago, fifteen years “late.” My family had even purchased the digital video discs of the series when it came out, which I have been carrying around for over a decade across three changes of address. Finally, though, I popped them in and watched the series. You know, it’s not too shabby after all. It is a very rich universe with a great deal of potential, interesting conflicts and backstory, and a ragtag crew of disparate desperados, all led by the least-likable character on the show, Malcolm Reynolds, played by the least likable actor on the show, Nathan Fillion. That his character is openly antagonistic toward religion is only icing on the cake. I could never watch Castle, either. I’m just not a Fillion-atic. It breaks my heart he is portraying one of my favorite Marvel characters, Simon Williams (a.k.a. Wonder Man) in the upcoming Guardian of the Galaxy sequel (though, since they aren’t the real Guardians of the Galaxy, and the Ultimates Universe is mostly shash, it doesn’t matter). Anyway, the series and the universe, despite Malcolm Reynolds, are intriguing. The “everyone speaks Chinese” thing seemed farfetched for the not-too-distant future, but I suppose if some catastrophic event results in the West and China uniting, I could see it happening, sure. The thing that bothered me the most about the show is the best character, Kaylee, is treated horribly by practically everyone, including the writers/producers. No one appreciated or talked to her appropriately, and the backstory and occasional dialogue by and from her from the lesser-skilled writers was really a low point. On the other hand, as I said, the interesting universe and its many layers of conflicts, especially the absence of aliens, the sci-fi/Western milieu, the odd mix of moral codes in the crew and universe as a whole, plus the “who are they really?” about most of the crew all indeed make for a good time and an experience that should have lasted much longer than it did. I agree. It’s not the bee’s knees, but it is a good idea. It certainly could be easily expanded by books and cartoons and comics and a whole slew of things, but if mastermind Joss Whedon wants to keep it all locked up in his secret vault where only he can take it out and pet it and hug and kiss it, so be it.
12. Ellery Queen
This may be the least-painful entry on the list, not because it is first but because the safety net is indeed the largest: even though the fantastic 1975-1976 television show Ellery Queen lasted for only one season, the only entry on this list I wasn’t alive to see the first time around, the entire Ellery Queen Universe consists of, what, a couple of radio series, a couple of television series, some films, comics, a magazine that’s been going on since World War 2, and a whole lot of novels and short stories. This may be of small comfort (as it is with the heart-breakingly-too-soon-cancelled Nero Wolfe series), if your main attraction to the Ellery Queen series is the performance of Timothy Hutton’s dad Jim Hutton and David Wayne as Ellery Queen’s father Richard Queen. Much like the interplay of Timothy Hutton and Maury Chaykin in Nero Wolfe, the highlight of the show is the two leads acting with each other. The mysteries are usually interesting, sure, and the semi-regular guest appearance of John Hillerman as Simon Brimmer (created just for this incarnation of Ellery Queen) is marvelous (especially as it adds to this series’ more comical-but-not-slapstick interpretation of Ellery Queen), and the “hey, it’s that one used-to-be-famous guy and gal!” seven times over per episode guest cast (like Murder, She Wrote used a decade later) is delightful for fans of television-radio-movie history. But the real treat, as I said, was the chemistry between Jim Hutton and David Wayne, and we, frankly, deserved several more seasons of it than just one. The stories already existed. The Used-To-Be Actors and Actresses were aplenty. It could have lasted.
11. 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo
Surely, several one-season-only fine cartoon shows could qualify for consideration here, especially if made by Hanna-Barbera: Herculoids, Hong Kong Phooey, Hair Bear Bunch (and others that doesn’t start with “h”). Pirates of Dark Water, for example, was the impetus for this article, but since it technically is more than one season, it ironically does not qualify (and deserves its own article for its sheer greatness anyway — stay tuned). 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo only qualifies for this list because, while it may have been complete as a one-season show, it did not get its chance to finish the story, which is horrible. As you know, I’m not a huge fan of scary things, but this show, a few notches above the usual dark mystery of Scooby-Doo shows that almost always say “supernatural dangers have naturalistic explanations,” is distinctly in the vein of “supernatural dangers are supernatural indeed” and works very well, even though it should be a prime example of everything we harangued against a few issues ago (sixteen ago, to be precise). With Vincent Price along, Scooby and Shaggy and Velma and some kid named Flim Flam put right what once went wrong (you can probably guess who’s to blame) in the harried nether realms of the Himalayas. All we needed was a few more episodes and it would have been all finished — why cancel a show three or four (or possibly even only 2 very full) episodes before it could finish telling its story?
10. Push, Nevada
This rather bizarre gimmick of a show mixed iceberg-like mystery (there’s much more under the surface) with play-at-home game show. This one’s definitely not for kids: it’s possible the inhabitants of Twin Peaks, Washington would feel uneased in this goofy ol’ town. A mysterious fax (I think that’s Old Tongue for “printed out e-mail”?) shows up in mild-mannered IRS Agent Jim Prufrock’s office and right away you’re thinking “hey, that’s a name from that poem” and suddenly things get weird. But not only is it a show about a mystery and bizarre things going on in Push, Nevada (things of Modernist Poetry and Classical Greek Drama subject matter, which can never be good for anyone involved), it is also a play-along-at-home follow-the-clues adventure. This gimmick (and I don’t use that pejoratively here) was pretty clever — not original, not unique, but clever. The show had a self-determined end point: it had a whole mystery to uncover and reveal, an end and purpose, but that was apparently not good enough for the impetuous Decision Makers and Plug Pullers of 2002. Oh, sure, they revealed the rest of the clues for the play-at-home game show, and some eagle-eyed viewer won a thousand bajillion dollars, but for me that was not the point of the show. I wanted to know where the show was going, and I didn’t care too much about the prize money. Apparently, I was alone. Not even co-creator Ben Affleck seems to have anything to say about the show part, such as where the mystery was going. Pity, that. I still want to know what was supposed to happen.
9. Police Squad!
I admit this is the one show on the list for which I was alive but not old enough to watch when it first came out, which is partly why the list is limited in its way, but having seen the episodes multiple times, I still cannot fathom why this series is only six episodes long. Sure, it has running gags, but those running gags do not prevent anyone from understanding 99.9% of that particular episode. Surely its appeal to me is its alignment with the kind of verbal, intelligent humor I prefer, but its admixture of nonsensical visual gags is somehow over-the-top without being too much or too obvious. It is a sort of intelligent slapstick that does not resort to the painful Three’s Company-type “humor” (no offense to Three’s Company fans). It must be the only series to be longer (total minutes-wise) in its motion picture incarnation than in its episodic television incarnation. As Barney Miller proved, a humorous cop show has great potential and longevity — and Barney Miller almost never left the squad room in eight seasons! This series had so many positive things going for it. It was just too smart for its time, apparently. For those who have trouble associating “smart” with Naked Gun, go back to the original Police Squad! and see what comedy gold was there from the beginning.
8. Space Rangers
Another but six-episode series, this science-fiction romp likewise had great potential. It has not aged nearly as well as Police Squad!, that is true, even though it is a decade younger, and it has clearly been surpassed by others of its ilk (obviously Deep Space Nine and Babylon 5), but Space Rangers had a certain I-don’t-know-what. Perhaps it tried too hard: the production demands with a technology that wasn’t quite there yet, the terminology of the universe, the outfits … but still. Its main cast is a veritable “hey, it’s that one guy/gal!” collection. It’s about the space station and dangers of the frontier and enemies close to home, but it’s also a world that isn’t nearly so refined as either the Star Trek or even Babylon 5 universes, and that ruggedness had a wide-open field for storytelling and character development. This show should either never have been made or allowed to go for many seasons.
7. Covington Cross
The 1992-’93 television season was an interesting time. Some excellent shows began then: Batman: The Animated Series, X-Men, Highlander: The Series, Goof Troop, among others. Some not great shows began then (let’s not mention any). And there was #8 on our list as well as #7, Covington Cross. Speaking of “hey, it’s that one guy/gal!” shows, this is Britain’s version, with famous British people, starring the great Nigel Terry. With the freedom of Generic Medieval Setting, Covington Cross had no historical boundaries or chronological limitations requiring it do this or not do that other than Be Medieval. With Nigel Terry. Unlike all the Serious Time Dramas with Some Comedy, Covington Cross did not have a set story it had to tell: it could just be something fun and different and clever, and boy was it clever. Go read the plot description of the pilot episode and most of you will think “oh, that’s like that other popular medieval drama that’s all the rage these days,” but then you’ll see the date and realize, “oh, that’s four years before the first book came out!” Like Police Squad!, Covington Cross was just ahead of its time — too good, too clever, too expensive. Ironically, the thing that seemed to irk Thomas Paine so much, about England ruining America (or whatever he called it) because England was running America from afar seems to be the inverse of this show: America ruining England’s Covington Cross because American ran England’s Covington Cross from afar. This was a good show, and if I could understand that before my teens, surely other people could have understood that as well. Did I mention it had Nigel Terry?
6. Dark Skies
Similar to and unlike what we just said, Dark Skies took on the challenge of telling the story of modern America from a different perspective: the right one, in which so many of the major events of modern America happened because of … aliens. I’m not a huge fan of alternative history, but Dark Skies was a good mix of history and revision and scary alien menace. Perhaps you think I’m describing some X-Files knock-off. No, you’re thinking of X-Files seasons 9 and 10. But seriously folks, Dark Skies should not be remembered as an X-Files knock-off. It had some similar ideas, sure, but unlike X-Files, which was all some secret malarkey that changed every couple of seasons and our heroes were never to know about it, in Dark Skies our heroes get on the inside track from the very first episode and spend the whole time trying to learn more about it and get better prepared to actually fight it. It’s like a sensible fan’s response to what we wanted to see in X-Files: the good guys actually being allowed to fight the future. If this got cancelled because it was “too much like X-Files,” whoever made that decision clearly did not understand either X-Files or Dark Skies. Recently, I saw a soupçon of the five-year plan for this show: twenty years after the show came and went too soon, I was re-angered by the idiocy of the Decision Makers who cancelled this show, knowing as they did what was in store for this show and what incredibly intelligent places it was going (significantly different from how it began in season one). It was going to grow and change and re-invent itself and do all the things J.J. Abrams’s shows get credit for inventing a half a decade before Felicity.Dark Skies took one of the clever-but-not-even-original ideas X-Files presented in a horribly frustrating way and did it in a more engaging and rewarding way, took what Falling Skies was going to do 15 years later and did it 15 years before, and a whole lot more. It was going to be five seasons; it knew where it was going; it knew the story it had to tell. What went wrong? Where was the faith? Where was the love?
5. Crusade
Speaking of 5-year plans, we should know by now if a show has a solid five-year plan and is allowed to work it to its fruition, we end up with something magical and exquisite. Clearly, as always, I’m speaking of Babylon 5. Farscape may or may not have had a five-year plan, but it needed its fifth season to finish telling its story fully, but, sadly, it didn’t get it. NewsRadio as well. Battlestar Galactica may or may not have had a plan, but it got to finish telling the story it wanted to tell, and those of us who are intelligent appreciated and enjoyed the conclusion to the story. And then: sequel. And/or: prequel.
I haven’t seen Caprica. I probably won’t. Ah, but Crusade! Why was this cancelled? If you are a sequel to the greatest show of all time, which, as we all know, Babylon 5 is, why would Decision Makers not give the Creative Team the benefit of the should-not-even-have-existed doubts and say “you just made us forever rich and famous and happy by giving us the best show ever, and since you want to continue the story/universe in a new and fresh way and actually know what you want to do and where you want to go, full speed ahead!” and instead say “you just et cetera et cetera et cetera too slow, I change my mind, it’s over before we can get to know everyone”? Why would you (the third of the three different unnamed antecedents of “you” in the previous sentence) do such a ludicrous thing? Have you (I’m talking to you, now, faithful reader) seen the cast list for this show? This show discovered everyone! (You’re probably thinking that argument will be used again soon in this list.) I don’t understand. No, Crusade is not Farscape — but even the first couple of post-pilot episodes of Farscape are “not Farscape” just yet anyway. Even that show had to find its identity. And after Babylon 5, come on. Crusade knew where it was going, and the Creative Team already proved it knew what it was doing. This is possibly the most irksome entry on the list for me, since I know deeply it could have become something great given the opportunity, even with the monumental task of being a sequel of sorts to the greatest show of all time.
4. Mr. and Mrs. Murder
This is the most recently enjoyed series by me on the list, one my parents introduced to my wife and me earlier this year. Coming to us from Australia, reminding you we at Redeeming Pandora are truly international, Mr. and Mrs. Murder was and is and always will be a very clever character-driven mystery show about a loving husband and wife couple (rather rare on television these days) who clean up crime scenes for a living. Not like the CSI clean up teams, mind you, the actual cleaning up cleaning up people: the ones with mops, vacuums, wet wipes, and lots and lots of gloves. Like most good mystery shows, the characters are very smart (another rare thing on television these days), well-read, well-rounded, somewhat flawed, quirky, very much in love, and very fun to watch. Because the show comes to us from Australia, none of the American Television Company mantras and flaws are there (whether traditional or contemporary), and so even though it seems from afar to be overly-familiar-television-mystery fare, it uses those traditional mystery show tropes in fresh and clever ways. It’s quite good. Making the pain of its premature non-renewal even more painful, aside from how clever and enjoyable the show was right from its first episode, by the end of the season it had potentially given us a nemesis for our hero, Charlie (the “Mr.” of the title — the loving couple of cleaners-turned-amateur-sleuths). And while shows like Bones and NCIS have proven the “nemesis of the season” idea can get tedious rather quickly, at least they had the opportunity to work it through. This is a quintessential example of the “not enough viewers gets even very clever shows cancelled” heartbreaking disease so prominent today. This show could have and should have gone on for quite some time. Come on, Australia — what happened here?
3. Earth 2
For some inexplicable reason, Television Executives, those unimaginative soulless fiends to which we’ve been referring throughout this journey, continue to “green light” (as they say in the “biz”) science-fiction programs, even though these same Decision Makers apparently hate them passionately. Travel back with me to the Golden Age of TV Sci-Fi, the late ’80s to the early ’00s, a time that gave us really great shows like TNG, DS9, Babylon 5, Farscape, Lexx, Quantum Leap, Stargate SG-1, and others. We also had this overlooked gem. Before Voyager, Lost, Terra Nova, and all the other more recent series that copied some of this potential great show (that, admittedly, borrowed from Battlestar Galactica, which is just the Aeneid in space anyway), Earth 2 gave us a diverse, intelligent show that fell prey to the Low Ratings Disease. Shame on you, audiences: we had something potentially great in our hands and you (not me, since I watched it all) let it slip away. This show had a little bit of just about everything you need for a good science fiction show: a ragtag crew far from home, religious conflicts, misunderstood aliens, cyborgs, disasters, internal strife, children as the last hope for humanity, and so much more. Sure, when I put it like that it may sound like a hodgepodge of every science fiction show, but somehow it came across (to me, and not just because I was young) as something different, something that could have lasted much longer than one season. There was great potential for so much, not just on the new planet but also back home — this could have given us many seasons of intrigue, mystery, action, adventure, romance, science, ecology, anti-colonialism, and so much more. I guarantee if this show got rebooted intelligently today (by which I mean not in a heavy-handed “social issues are more important than people of faith” sort of way), it could work very well and perhaps tell its whole story, which surely would be an enjoyable story indeed.
2. The Good Guys
Clearly we live in a day in Television Land in which “fresh, clever, morally upright ideas” are anathema, and “shoddily-rehashed superhero ideas” and “viscerally-appealing basest aspects of humanity are ‘good’” shows are praised and “green-lighted.” Again. And again. And again. It’s an odd mix, perhaps trying to tell us “normal people are bad but hey, that’s okay,” so “only supernatural beings are good, and since the supernatural is a hollow lie, no good exists for real.” Inexplicably to intelligent people, the other people in this world tell us shows like Breaking Bad, Damages, Guilt, Scandal, Revenge, Dirt, Dexter, The Sopranos, Desperate Housewives,and a whole slew of other shows focusing on protagonists doing horribly evil things are “great” and “groundbreaking” and other sorts of positive superlatives, and these same people then ask in all sincerity, “why are human beings so bad and hateful and angry and selfish all the time?” These are the same people, mind you, who tell us “people are cosmic accidents from dust and monkeys with no purpose or hope” and then, still in all sincerity wonder “why do people kill and hate and lie and steal and destroy?” Then they usually mention the calendar year, as if that has some bearing on the argument.
Enter (six years ago at the time of this writing), a very fresh and entertaining (if somewhat saucy at times) relief from such a world: a show in which the heroes care about doing good, making the world a better place, and keeping us safe from people who want us to be unsafe. The show was a frenetic mix of a lot of different things: you’ve got the beloved ’80s mismatched cop duo idea (one cop is stuck in the ’70s days of shoot first, massage the evidence, drive fast, smoke and drink and be foxy, and, if time, ask questions if it’s not too late but since your intuition is usually right you don’t need to ask questions anyway sort of cop, combined with the young, up-and-coming technology savvy, politically astute, by-the-book cop), an ethnic lady of ethnicity in charge of the police force that should have appeased the group that needs appeasing by that sort of thing, heroes with lots of flaws and moral ambiguity, a quirky cast of characters beyond the quirky heroes, and the villains! My heavens, the villains are possibly the second most enjoyable part of the show, in that week after week the villains are, well, sort of the opposite of stereotypical villains: they are intelligent, funny, and come very close to being the stars of the episode (sort of reminiscent of Barney Miller), yet we don’t end up rooting for them in any way (except for villain-turned-ally Julius). Bradley Whitford as Dan Stark, the out-of-time cop who, like me, distrusts technology and proper procedure (after all, didn’t we learn from thousands of episodes of Law and Order and CSI and Psych warrants usually are just for sissies after all?) is so unlike every other role we’ve ever seen him in, the sheer zest and enjoyment of watching him be funny and free and wild and reckless should have been enough of a reason to keep this show around for several seasons. Plus it’s got wit (akin to Police Squad!, in a way), Colin Hanks, romance, special effects, and I honestly don’t know why this show stopped … oh, wait, yes I do. It was good.
1. The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr.
Here we are, full circle. You know who made Lost the good show it was? Nope, not J.J. Abrams — Carlton Cuse, that’s who. Where did he get his training? Brisco County, Jr., that’s where. I think it was Benjamin Franklin who said, and I quote, “The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr. may not be a perfect show, but it’s as close to a perfect show as imperfect people can make,” unquote. Before Firefly came along with its Western Sci-Fi Comedy Adventure (that at times takes itself a bit too seriously), there was the great Brisco County, Jr.: a Western Sci-Fi Comedy Adventure that never took itself too seriously. Before Nathan Fillion came along being pseudo-manly and pseudo-complicated heroic, there was … Bruce Campbell. Manly. Heroic. And manly. I don’t want to get all libelous and whatnot, but Bruce Campbell, for me, is the antithesis of Nathan Fillion, mainly in the “I want to watch a show with him as the star” category.
Let’s talk briefly about how many fantastic things this show had going for it: I believe we have already mentioned Bruce Campbell as the eponymous Brisco County, Jr., Harvard educated son of the West’s most famous and successful lawman (Brisco County, Sr.) bounty hunter (who, MacGyver-like, almost never uses violence) extraordinaire. Do you want more? We have already mentioned Western Sci-Fi Comedy Adventure. How about the late great Julius Carry as Brisco’s rival-bounty-hunter-turned-best-friend Lord Bowler? Christian Clemenson as Socrates Poole, lawyer and confidante. Kelly Rutherford as Dixie Cousins, gangster moll/sort of love interest for Brisco. Comet the Wonder Horse as himself. Every episode lovingly recalls us to those halcyon days of serials, much like the Indiana Jones movies, in which plots moved quickly from crisis to crisis, but BCJ allowed for plenty of character, humor, intrigue, romance, heart, intelligence, and more good things. Let’s not forget John Astin as Professor Wickwire, the knowingly anachronistic scientist always encouraging Brisco (and us, the science-loving audience) to be on the lookout for The Next Big Thing. (Before you think it’s just some Wild Wild West rip-off, trust me when I say “it isn’t.”) And the villains! Billy Drago as main antagonist John Bly (no one does villain like Billy Drago). M.C. Gainey as Big Smith (a diabolical Little John). Oh, and you know that rousing theme you hear all the time during the Olympics, not the fanfare but the other rousing get-up-and-go-with-gusto music? Yeah, that’s actually the theme music to Brisco County, Jr.
Having established this show has practically everything you need for success (i.e., Bruce Campbell with bonus elements), let’s talk a little about its premise, especially if you think John Astin’s inventor-scientist character is the sum total of the Sci-Fi in Western Sci-Fi. U.S. Marshall Brisco County, Sr. has just successfully rounded up all 12 of the notorious John Bly gang, but for some reason the Robber Barons and Government Decision Makers have put them all on the same train together, and somehow the bad guys escape, kill Brisco County, Sr., and flee in all directions. The Robber Barons hire his bounty hunter son Brisco County, Jr. (and a few others, such as Lord Bowler), to track them down and restore order to the West. And that’s just the opening credits of the pilot. Then comes … The Orb. I don’t want to spoil it for you, but The Orb is one of the most intelligent pieces of television history I’ve ever seen. Brisco County, Jr. showed me television series can be intelligent — I had already known that from Star Trek and Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood and a few other things, of course, but BCJ showed me television shows, if handled by intelligent people such as Carlton Cuse, can plan ahead, come up with engaging story arcs and intentional character development, and quality episodes that not only entertain but also demand an intellectual response as well. Brisco County, Jr. did not just come up with neat ideas and change directions to make the story bigger and better, oh no: BCJ worked out ideas and directions in advance and started heading on that cohesive path from the beginning — just like all writers are supposed to do anyway. As you know by now, that’s one of the key factors in why Babylon 5 is the best show of all time (and my favorite), and it’s one of the key factors in why The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr. is the most heartbreakingly early-cancelled show of all time. It could have gone in several engaging directions, and from what I’ve learned about the plans Mr. Cuse and Co. had for where the show could have gone, beyond just “nabbing the Bly Gang” and understanding The Orb, it had as much possibility as The Ol’ West itself — and that’s a vista of great and wondrous and plentiful possibilities indeed. So I’m going to file my claim for The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr. as the most regrettably-prematurely cancelled show of all time (real fans saw what I did there).
But Let’s Not Wallow in Regrets
In one sense, this has become a self-perpetuating problem. As mentioned throughout, we, the mindful viewers, having caught on to the wiles and dastardly habits of this abominable practice are reticent to even watch new programs until after a season or two is safely on some streaming service so we don’t get our hopes and hearts attached to some new cast of characters only to have them teleported into the Nether Realms of Cancellation all too soon. And because of this reticence, shows get low viewership, unsatisfactory ratings, and cancelled. It’s a terrible cycle.
Another facet of the problem is the mind-blowingly nonsensical decision by the Creative Teams and their Advertising Buddies not to let us know “hey, there’s actually a cohesive story here you’ll want to dig into from the beginning.” That’s one of the reasons I didn’t start watching Lost until a few seasons into it: the show looked interesting, but all the initial commercials made it seem like Gilligan’s Island: The Drama. Now, had I known there was going to be a very interesting story arc to the whole thing, I may have started watching it from the beginning. Thankfully, this is one of the few shows that had a faithful following enough to allow it to tell its complete story (and yes, most of you are still wrong about its ending and the point of the whole show). But some shows are not so fortunate: take Pan Am, for example. All the advertisement for it was just “here’s a period piece drama about aeroplanes!” Now, if they had said, even briefly and quietly, “but wait, there’s more: there’s an ongoing story of espionage and conflict,” I might have given it a look — and so, likely, would have thousands of others. I’m not saying you have to spoil all the surprises, but don’t expect me to watch a show just hoping to be pleasantly surprised there’s more to it than what all the millions of advertising budget monies have made it out to be. I did that with Brisco County, Jr., and Fox Executives broke my heart.
“But wait!” you shout. “What about Freaks and Geeks and The Prisoner and My So-Called Life, and all the other great cancelled-too-soon shows you haven’t seen yet?” Whoops. Let the cat out of the bag at the end there. No, I have never seen Freaks and Geeks, and since I’m not in any way impressed with the output of these stars today, the thought of watching a show with them before they were stars does not grip me. I remain ungripped (also because I staunchly refute the eponymous appellations, a subject for another time). I do want to see The Prisoner, definitely, and I surely should, but since they sort of knew it was going to be cancelled, it had the chance to wrap up its story albeit hastily, I’m told (this is somewhat similar to BCJ, at least, in that it does come to a nice conclusion, but it could have gone on for so much longer). And godspeed trying to get me to watch My So-Called Life.
Maybe this was just a subconscious yearning to return to the halcyon days of the early ’90s, when life seemed simple, and quality science-fiction shows were coming at us left and right, video games were done in glorious 8- and 16-bit majick, Comic World was on 16th and Central, Mystery Science Theater 3000 was still being made, the sky was blue, birds were singing, and people seemed to laugh more, then. Well, maybe. But that’s a topic for another time. Let’s not wallow in regrets or the past. Life is mighty good today, in its own way.
Today we live in a fantastic-in-its-own-right age of excellent board games and Vanilla Coke and honey wheat braided pretzels and hula hoops and fax machines, an age in which we can revisit these prematurely ended shows of yesteryear and so many more, thanks to the advent of digital video discs, streaming services, and The Next Big Thing. The joys and potential joys of these series live on in our hearts and minds and collections and clouds.
So there’s that. And that’s my list. What’s yours?
Redeeming Pandora 