Font Porn?

all fonts depicted here were found at dafont.com

I guess there is such a thing as font porn. And a font addiction. I woke up this morning groggy, bleary eyed and disoriented as if I'd been drinking all night at the club. My memories were vague about what exactly I was doing. There were a ton of songs in my head all jumbled around like 40 people at karake all singing a different song at the same time. Chaos. Then I opened my computer to install a "few" fonts and found that I downloaded an astonishing 30 fonts in one sitting.

Normally I just add fonts as the project dictates. But something about yesterday....

Oh I know. I started out sorting them and making exemplar pages for the categories. PicMonkey has a  new Hub feature where I can store information and have it at a glance. If I know the style I want I can just look at that page instead of scrolling, scrolling, scrolling...   At some point I realized one collection of styles was bit thin. Since my exemplars were supposed to be pretty as well I decided to beef up the selection. And then it was midnight. This morning I saw what I had done.

Thirty fonts. Thirty. I only installed a few today. The rest are sorted into a folder "to be installed" later. I'd like to blame Ed Benguiat. I sorted a page called "@the Movies". It will be later in this post. Remembered that Stranger Things bothered me because I knew the font but the name slipped my mind. So I looked it up. And then realized to my horror that it was one of the fonts that went missing with my latest Windows. I LOVE BENGUIAT! Loved it since design school. And I had to have it back. THAT! That is what started the whole thing.

And then I remembered Fritz. Absolutely love Fritz Quadrata. It is seldom used now, assuming it found stagnation a decade ago and just fell out of favor. But I still love it. So I started a collection of Quadratas in its honor. Little did I suspect all of the interesting places that a Quadrata would show up. Note the very "pirate-y" looking 1492 Quadrata.

And that beautiful Benguiat. You can't beat it for readability. Like most of the Old Masters of Type, the reading is the key. If I can't tell what a word is at a glance I won't like that font. And there are a lot of fonts to dislike out there. Be grungy but do not obfuscate. Thus I love the Angelica War at the top. Grungy and Readable!!! Best of all... you can make any letter at the start or finish with a swirly flourish! Genius.  Ginga is readably grungy too. I love that about these two fonts. And I wish there was more of it around. But you have to buy a commercial license for those and apparently businesses are too cheap to pay. I get hobby bloggers like me not paying for commercial licenses but businesses can write those off. Oh well. I'll have to popularize them myself.

I'm also low on brush scripts. I've been getting the free ones at Creative Market but I couldn't pass up Bakery when I saw it. With a solid selection of brush script there should be enough for me to work with for a while. But I'm not holding my breath on that one either. I'm sure I will find more to love.

Northumbrian, which for whatever reason I hear in Richard Armitage's voice, is one of those crisp, legible uncial letter forms that crosses cultures, Celtic, Viking, German, Roman, or Dwarven. At once Ancient and modern, there is a good deal that can be done with this one. I think that is what I like best about this particular uncial. When I look at it standing firm like so many soldiers upon a hill I see scenes from movies and books that I have read. It is a font full of memories.

Speaking of memories, Pilot and Strong Glasgow remind me of old favorites. Pilot looks very Calvin and Hobbes. And Strong Glasgow, which is undoubtedly based on Rennie MacIntosh's gorgeous craftsman style font Willow, reminds me of my friend Michelle. She developed a series of stamps around the Craftsman movement theme with Willow as the main typeface as well as the inspiration. Of course it also conjures American Horror Story. Yikes.

Jefferson adds to my handwriting collection. I missed out on Monet when it came out but PicMonkey had Santos Durant to sort of make up for it in their collection. Jane Austen will come next to round out the quill pen fonts without famous attribution that I have.

Which brings us to the funny little display font called SCIRCLES. It is very steampunk. It is also a bit Art Nouveau leading into the Art Deco thing. And that is where I am art artistically again. I am loving the late Nouveau and the Art Deco stuff. You can attribute this to all of the Mysteries I've been watching. Which were also the mysteries that I was reading as a kid. As a kid, the typesetting in those books made as much an impact as the stories. There wasn't an industry standard like there is today. Each publishing house had its own set of type styles. You knew by the look and the feel of the book as much as by the imprint logo in the face page.

Today Times Roman is the standard or some Arial nonesense. It is rare that I find a book with a unique print and I notice it. And invariably those are the books that I love best. This is one of the reasons that I am slow, nay, reluctant to hit the ebook trend. Never mind that I could save room with digital books. You don't get the whole body experience with digital books. Every sense is engaged when I read. I miss that.

I am hoping that this current obsession/love affair with typesetting leads my back to reading. I enjoyed the last book tremendously. It is such a sensory experience for me that I think the overload of the last two years just made it impossible for me to sit through whole books. Magazines have been easier. Still.... fonts. Typestyles. The printed word....

Musical Woes

So something weird happened on the way to my mailbox. Somewhere along the line, the USPS decided it could not actually deliver to me the package my penpal sent. So no new Matthias Reim in the que. I only have a few sound bites from the songs to hear. It is a shame to since I have all kinds of time to learn this CD. Pen pal is reshipping so hopefully the second time will be magic.

In the meantime there is Spotify, and a new app I added to my phone: 8tracks. It started, as so many things do these days with a Pintrest pin. Hot British guys reading Poetry and Prose. Mostly Cumberbatch (Happy Birthday, Old Man!) and Tom Hiddleston. There are a few other great voices; Alan Rickman to make you cry (still not over that), Richard Armitage (for those who miss a tortured Guy) Michael Caine (still waiting for that Alfred smackdown on Bratman), Kenneth Branaugh (because Shakespeare the movies) and David Tennant (expecting Don't Blink to punctuate the Sonnets). It's great fun. And I am sleeping better.

In fact, off the Lexapro and with these gents in me ear all night, not only am I sleeping through BUT I am also not having nightmares. Major HUZZAH! Those things were killing me. And not so softly either. The panic attacks that shoot me out of bed for literally no good & logical reason have stopped. I think this means that I will have to make sure I only watch them being good guys. Or in Armitage's case, the wishing he could be better Guy and not them being assholes about life and everything. Fortunately it will be a while before there is more Jessica Jones. And Netflix has taken the Doctor away until the new streaming BBC is ready. So the only danger is accidentally engaging the memory files and triggering some kind of avalanche of terror. I also skip Hiddles. Sorry Tom, but Loki.... I can't.

Now if only I could find Josh Brolin and Goetz Otto reading things, my audio library will be complete.

Any way. As I was cruising through this new app I realized it is a lot of playlists. And there are German playlists. Matthias playlists. I don't know how this all works. But somehow, there is a way to make my mobile music experience great again. And I shall do so while I await the new CD. In the meantime, well rested me is having a blast with the energy from actual restful sleep.

Storm Front

39 years ago we had a huge storm that resulted in what I call the Colorform Debacle of 1976 which resulted in one of my more entertaining Facebook notes. There have had zero storms of that magnitude right over Traverse City... until yesterday.

photo by Keegan Meyes. Used by permission m22.com

Yesterday when the green portion of this cell went over the hotel where I was working, I freaked out but not as much as when I was a kid. And since I am in charge I had to keep it more together than 6 year old me. I watched from the second story window overlooking the parking lot. I was looking for debris in the air. As I watched, the young maple at the head of the drive bent like a palm tree, it's downward growing branches wrenched upright.

When I came downstairs to gather crew and answer guest questions, everyone was a little panicky. So, as I am prone to do, I made a cheeky comment. "Where is Richard Armitage's butt when you need an anchor?" Only one of 6 people got my Into the Storm reference.

All I can say is that I am very glad that we did not experience the movie in it's truest sense. And I feel like I really should have known it was coming. The entire crew was sluggish for a good two hours before the storm hit. The air was heavy, the A/C was on and cranking but it felt like we were trying to freeze a dragon's throat! As I went up the stairs to get a look out of a second floor window I lost my breath.

There are a lot of things that let you know the storm will be bad. Dad rattled them off all the time when the sky threatened. The one that gives you the best warning if you are paying attention is the loss of breath. At some point the barometer drops and the air is moist enough that your lungs, for a split second, panic and you feel like you will suffocate. That is when you seek shelter. When you hear the freight train it is almost too late.

I'd had a barometric pressure headache for a while at that point. And it intensified for a few minutes. But when the green of that cell, which had gone from a Mountain Dew color to the color of a deep green glass bottle sitting in the shade, came over the hotel everything changed again. My adrenaline kicked in and I started rounding everyone up. It was intense.

The second that the adrenaline kicked in the headache was gone. And it hasn't been back even though the conditions this morning are still rather ideal for those kinds of headaches.

The hotel had no damage and we had no injuries so on that front all was well. Surrounding the property the neighborhoods were hit with very intense straight line winds. Guests watching the storm from the bank of windows shared stories of the adventure in crossing town from dinner to base camp. The 1.5 mile trip from the restaurants to our location on the strip was, to use a cliche, frought with peril.

Today, the day after, the town of Glen Arbor is closed. Glen Arbor sits at the base of the Sand Dunes that I wrote about recently. It sits in a little basin between the Dunes and the hills of the Homestead Resort property at Port Oneida point. When the storm cell came over the Dunes that drop from the first hill was enough of a gravity well to intensify the storm. On the lake side the Dunes have a 435 foot reach from shore to tip. On the Glen side the drop from the first Dune is about 100 feet. So the winds rushed up the face of the Dunes (gathered intensity) then the bottom dropped out as it zipped the scant 2 miles across the top of the Dunes. The energy was dispersed on the sleepy little town during the dinner hour on a busy tourist season Sunday.

Local papers report the entire community of Glen Arbor is cut off by downed trees on every single access road around either the Big or Little Glen Lake. No reports on extent of the damage to buildings or injury reports yet. Undoubtedly Pierce Stocking Drive suffered major damage along its pathway. Many old trees in town were uprooted, entire root balls lifted sidewalk. And that was without the benefit of several days worth of soaking rain as we have seen in the south this Summer. Pierce Stocking I am certain will have trees down with some damage done to the roadway. No idea how long it will take Park Officials to present their full assessment. But like I said in that last post, it's a trecherous area to be in when the weather turns foul.

Makes me wonder how Uncle Ole and his family really fared in Port Oneida. Farming can not be an easy thing when the weather gets like this. It is an idyllic farm setting on the best of days. But what is it like when the weather starts getting rough?

Perhaps I will take a drive out to see how the old farmstead fared in a couple of days. It will be interesting to see the before and after effects. It is rather interesting to note the before and after in myself.

When that storm hit when I was six I had nightmares for years. every storm made me paranoid and sick to my stomach. Now, almost 40 years later, I actually look forward to these kinds of events. I wonder if it is all the Weather Channel I have been exposed to as a hotel worker or if it is that I have a better developed "MacGyver" sense for being able to make quick assessments and execute plans. Some would say that you just grow out of those kinds of fears. Not me. I haven't grown out of my snake fears so I don't subscribe to the maturity resolution. Knowledge really must be the answer, the "wiser" part of the old equation. I know what is happening, I know what things I can do to make it okay and I am vigilant. No storm is gonna sneak up on me.

Though, it would be nice to have Richard Armitage around just in case.

Britain Hates the BBC

Why does the British government want to do away with the BBC? It's making money hand over fist. Someone is getting rich from the royalties on merchandising for its most popular shows and the world is in love with Britain in a way that I scarcely recall hearing of except in my mother's stories about living through WWII. So why do the Brits in the Houses want to do away with it?

Is The Doctor supplanting The Queen in popularity?
Is Sherlock showing up the Yard? Oh, wait, he always is but I don't mean that as literall... well, yes I do. OK so Sherlock could be an issue.
Are we upset that Moriarty's ringtone is reviving interest in the BeeGees? Who's afraid disco balls will come back into vogue?
Is someone upset that everyone knows the Top Gear guys names and no one can name more than 2 members of either House?
Or is it the theory that if the BBC doesn't produce it America can't steal it?

Most likely it is the infuriating fact that the people around the world have voted that the most valuable thing Britain can offer anyone is an excellence in programming that has garnered such favor and feverish devotion like no other product in Britain has done since Winston Churchill's PR machine went head to head with Nazi propaganda. If I'd been a kid in the 40s I would have wanted to be British. I am so in love with the BBC shows that come our way in the States that if I can't live in Germany I would live in Britain. It must hurt the pride somewhere close to either the greasy elbows in the House of Commons and the silver spoons in the House of Lords for television, of all things, to be the thing. And it is The Thing.

If we are going to have a Fahrenheit 451 life surrounded by four walls of chattering boob tubes then I vote that the BBC be in charge of the programming. I'd rather have Sherlock blathering on about how bored he is than deal with one more reality show from here in the armpit of mediocrity. Oooohh, better still. Four walls of televsions, the four walls of the TARDIS, being on the inside! Being up close and personal with The Doctor himself. You would never get me to leave the house if there was anyway in Hell that I would be able to be in a surround experience like that when Doctor Who is on. You want to rebuilt the British Empire? That's the way to do it.

Instead of building a broadcasting juggernaut that would topple Turner with the merest lift of an eyebrow, someone over there wants to dismantle the BBC. Being independent of advertising money has made the producers and writers work harder t have a quality product that attracts attention and gets the shares of the viewing audience. The competition from seemingly endless pools of funds has made them better. The BBC are the Olympic Athletes of the Broadcast World.

Oooohhhhh, that's it is it?  You've a bureaucrat who is being swayed by advertisers to ditch the BBC, force the shows onto commercial support channels and use the bribe of losing the fee to do it. Oh that's good. But you know what? It is stupid. Keep the fee. Keep the BBC. It makes them hungry to do well. And if the BBC is too much competition for the advert support channels then those channels need to up their game and make better shows. If you don't the whole of your entertainment industry will be nothing more than a glut of reality TV shows and you'll look like a bunch of lazy Americans.

On a personal note, the only TV I watch is the BBC on Netflix. I'd buy a license so that you can stream my shows right to me. People around the world being tortured by Sherlock and Doctor Who spoilers while waiting for their appearance on regular TV here would buy that license. Then the only thing I would watch would be the BBC and I wouldn't have to hit up youtube for my Graham Norton.

In other words, Britain....

I want my BBC! 

Living in the Future

As a kid in the 80s respirating the arts as much as oxygen, the world was a marvelous place. The news reports hyped the latest New York productions in such a way to make me think that Broadway was an entire city unto itself and not just a few blocks of a famed avenue. Cats was huge. I loved the four legged kind that watched soaps with me after school so it stood to reason that I would love the play. And when we got hip deep into PBS the Metropolitan Opera shared a few of its productions with the world. For a long time I was a total stage production junkie. I read about West End productions in London in the national new papers, listened to the public radio station for any word that a production might be shown on PBS. And I dreamed of one day seeing a show.

The only problem with that is living in northern michigan with a high school babysitters income and parents who were deathly afraid to let me be five blocks from the house without supervision. That fear also made it really hard for me as I became as fearful about being that far from home on my own. By the time I started to venture out into the brave new world of independence I was so excited by my local environs I forgot about theater shows. At least until there was the Internet.

But before the the Internet there was Star Trek the Next Generation. A new Enterprise with new gadgets and new toys. The best new toy... the Holodeck. And with the advent of the holodeck my dreams of being able to travel without leaving home were finally possible. At least, it was possible in theory. And validating. Others were thinking what I was thinking. See the worlds without leaving home. But in 1987 that was still just a fantasy, we didn't have the technology.

It is 2015 and we have the technology.
We don't always have the cooperation of international trade, production houses and individual producers. But we have the technology.

Today we are watching a production from the Old Vic Theater in London, Arthur Miller's Crucible. We read it in school. I didn't really understand much of it when we were in school. And with Richard Armitage's appearance on stage I understand what it is I missed. Every girl in Salem had a crush on John Proctor. And the whole thing revolves around one crazy girl with a crush and a man who couldn't let go of a spirtely teenager. That is the crux of the story. And it is little wonder that I didn't understand it when we were in school. But I understand completely now, looking at Richard Armitage on the stage, just exactly what is happening here.

My God, I hope there are very few crazily obsessed fans in his army as this nutter is obsessed John Proctor. Armitage will have no peace if the fans go nuts like this.

Happy Birthday Richard Armitage

There are a good many things that I could say to you for your birthday, all of which I am sure everyone will say anyway. So I shall leave this simply: my wish for you is that now that you have ventured into the twitterverse that the twitterverse will e kind to you.

The internet can be a wonderful place full of beauty, absurdity and wonders beyond what your imaginatio currently allows you. But it can also be a terrifying place where all that is cruel and inhumane lie in wait for the kind hearted and well meaning. Don't let them get you down. Don't let the crazy people poison you. But above all.... have fun. Be, unapologetically, yourself. Be yourself and the the tribe you belong to will find you. 

There are kindred spirits out there. My wish for you on your birthday is that you find many of them. 

More Random Thoughts

Tomorrow is Desolation of Smaug with my fellow Richard Armitage fans. Then Tuesday is Festival of Trains with a look at the replica Traverse City, my hometown. And somewhere in all the action I am going to be taking lots of photos and writing lots of blog posts across both blogger and wordpress. I had a tough we with MidWinter Depression sitting on my chest like a 500 pound cat. And it isn't even MidWinter. Hell.... technically Winter hasn't even started!

And if we have learned anything from Uncle Wil and Aunt Jenny it is that depression lies. It lies like a Politian. Fortunately I only had one really bad day where I actually believed its shit and was able to recover with the celebration of a life passed & "kibbutz" with my pen pal. Which reminds me:

I found the book I want for Christmas. It's Ben Schott's new book Schottenfreude. I saw a snippet in USA today yesterday and thought it was perfect since my pen pal and I just had this conversation about awesome German words for things that the English language is too afraid to admit to.

For some reason, the Germans are much more honest about the human condition than we are in America. Oh, make no mistake, we will show off with the use of big fancy psychology words that we learned from any number of TV quacks experts. And we will pretend we know exactly what it means and that we are correctly applying the terms. We will go to a therapist to learn these terms and feel smarter about both ourselves and mental issues because we can throw a big word or complicated concept at it as if we were Hermione Granger waving a wand over Ron's head and shouting "Expeliarmus!" (Because that trick always works.)

I think that my Grampa would probably have rolled his eyes right out of his head by now at my need or desire for regular therapy sessions. He could always tell me what was wrong and why. And he didn't need to have a fancy degree (which he did. In engineering.) or an office (which he did. The garage.) to be able to pronounce the diagnosis & cure. He just had to do what Germans do best: observe, plan & execute the plan. We Americans are very good at pretending that nothing is wrong with us while we cry about every little thing on facebook. We distract ourselves so much on the outside that we can never really be honest about anything on the inside. I think we might be the least authentic people on the planet... collectively. There are some stunning examples of honesty and compassion that most of the world will never know.

The Germans have words for things that most of the word won't admit to doing: looking up dirty words first when learning a language, weight gain from grief eating, the feeling you get from a cold pillow.... yep. Pay attention to your sleeping habits and you will know what I mean. You haven't paid attention. Your face on a cold pillow feels so happy that your skin could dance. You feel the feel and ignore it not thinking to acknowledge it. Much. And the Germans have a word for that!

I love that language. Mark Twain and every other language bigot can hate on it all they want to but it is truly expressive if somewhat blunt while doing its best to eliminate ambiguity that the American English loves. And it encourages one to be aware. Of course you can take awareness a little too far and singlehandedly be considered the father of mass suicides or suicide bumps.

I still want Speckschild to be a word. (Eating for protection from elements, economic scarcity or violence.)

But really I want Schottenfreude for Christmas.
We'll see how the finances go.

Fianlly Saw the Hobbit

So yesterday's frustration for trying to fix the hospital bill problem found me on the couch at a friend's house. She is a fellow Armitage Army enlistee and so since I have yet to see it, we watched the Hobbit.

Erebor took my breath away.
I was only 13 when I first read the book. Tolkien is very descriptive and we kind of mock him a bit for it now because descriptions are "boring". However, my very fertile 13 year old brain was able to see Erebor clearly, distinctly and magnificently in my mind's eye. And that is one reason that I am always loathe to see a book made into film in the fantasy genre. It is bound to be disappointing. And thus, was part of my reticence to see The Hobbit. The other part was that I knew the cartoon was not able to keep up with the plot of the book in its allotted time and I did not want the movie to be as disappointing as the cartoon. Hence the 3 part solution to the contracting time problem. Yea, Peter Jackson! But how would the settings look? I should have known from the Lord of the Rings treatment of Rivendell that there would be no issue with the dwarven kingdom. The dwarven kingdom was the first foreign land I'd been introduced to in the Hobbit. Yes, I know the Shire comes first. But the Shire isn't foreign.
The Shire is little different than the rolling English countryside; or the rolling farms of Leelanau County where my dad grew up. And as for the Hobbit homes.... ever been to Charlevoix? Hobbit homes are not that new to me. Subterranean dwellings as described by Tolkien? That was new. And that is what stuck with me. Dwarves are miners and architects unparalleled in the world of Middle Earth. Yes the Elvish buildings are etheric and mesmerizing, rising to the heavens in dizzying fashion. And no... when I was 13 there was nothing I knew in my world to compare. But when the dwarves talk about their home of Erebor with its foreign sounding name, its mazes of gems and gold and the statuary... Thorin's obsession had become my own. And since I had just learned how the middle of our Earth was made I was fascinated with the idea that these constructs could exist below the surface. I mean we all build above ground... that is our everyday life. I had wanted something foreign and I found it under the Lonely Mountain.

You see, I'd spent most of my Summers reading the encyclopedia... looking at the pictures and reading the attached article of the most colorful entries is more like it. The Summer I was 13 I had gotten to G. Just before picking up the Hobbit at the library I was immersed in the world of the true middle earth: gemstones, geography & geology. The World Book Encyclopedia we had at the time dazzled my eyes with sparkling pictures of cut and polished stones, raw stones and geodes. Geodes, small scale models similar to the earth itself. At least that is what I had figured out when I got to geology and saw how the earth is actually made. While we did cover this a bit in science class the Encyclopedia's information is more encompassing (pun intended). Geography came in the pages between the two. How mountains and rivers form was absolutely fascinating, as was learning how to decipher the topographical maps. It made all kinds of sense when I got to the geology parts with the bit about mantles and crusts, magma and vents, continental shelves and whatnot. My brain swirled with the vast amount of information I had input. And no one in my house wanted to talk about what interesting things I had learned.
Cue grampa. He came into town and took me to the library. I had a reading list for things we would be reading in high school and went through the list looking for something like the Martian Chronicles that I had read the Summer before. The Librarian recommended the Hobbit but warned Grampa that it might be too advanced since I was only just going into 8th grade. But I had all of that knowledge freshly embedded in my brain and once the rhythm of Tolkien's voice became familiar I was transported. I lingered over the descriptions of Erebor with all the geological visions from the encyclopedia right there.

These were not the Dwarves of a Disney world with their restrained personalities and banal aspirations. They did not live in messy but unfussy cottages as if they were on par with human men. These were dwarves of gritty determination, pride of craftsmanship and heritage, courageous in the face of difficulties and standing up to both beings and issues that were bigger than they were. These were dwarves whose home reflected every facet of their being: stalwart, strong with firm foundations and bold aesthetics. And they reflected their home. Erebor is not separate from the dwarven community nor from the individual dwarves. Erebor is Thorin. Thorin is Erebor. In my mind as I read the stories the dwarves seemed to be actually larger than life.

I was small of character and voice as a child. I hid my convictions and passions to avoid being subjected to the torment of those who were larger than my life in every sense of the word. Thorin would not bend to injustice nor would he react with thoughtless aggression. And he would not leave anyone behind. I would not say that I was ever in love with Thorin Oakenshield. But if anyone could or would ever at that time been my personal body guard I would have had it be him. Not only for the protection and for the honorary title of dwarf with the invitation to Erebor at my convenience but because he would have taught me to look into myself and see where my own weaknesses lie. Similar to the way we were taught introspection in Catholic school. But in the book Thorin seemed more compassionate and realistic about being self disciplined.

As the movie began with an overview of the kingdom below the Lonely Mountain, my awareness of the world I actually live in dissipated for a time. I would have liked the tour of Erebor to have been a tad slower and lingering.

And the rest of the movie went by too quickly for me. It was as nerve wracking as I remember the book. It seemed that the company did not rest after one catastrophe before being plunged into another. The spider's were downplayed. THANK GOD! I hated that part of the book. The trolls were a lot funnier than I remember... it was a bit like watching Monty Python. I was slightly confused by my reaction though. I remember the Eagle rescue absolutely taking my breath away. As I read that I could feel the cold night wind on my face and smell that oily down smell in my nose as Bilbo hunkered into the bird to keep his place. But I did not get the soaring majesty of that sensory experience in the film. The only thing besides Erebor to really make my breath hitch was...

gratianads90.wordpress.com: borrowed the photo from here.
I knew SOMEONE would have to have done a screen capture
 of this scene. It was absolutely breath-taking after the chaos of
dwarves in a feeding frenzy.

Richard Armitage as Thorin standing at Bilbo's door. The man is gorgeous to be sure. But he also has a wildness to him that fits Thorin as well as that brooding dedication to self discipline and community building. Thorin is the embodiment of all that we would come to know of Klingon Honor later in Star Trek: the Next Generation. And I believe that on a personal level Richard Armitage is the embodiment of Thorin son of Thrane.

Reality had come crashing down around me with the arrival of the other dwarves. As poor Bilbo is trying to play host to a pack of rowdy eaters I kept expecting him to yell, "Mrs. Hudson! Mrsssss. Huuuudsooooooonnnnnnn!" for a little assist in the serving department. It was chaos and Martin Freeman as Watson was so fresh in my head from a marathon of Sherlock it could not be helped. But there then is Thorin to restore order. And restore order he did.

Until I wanted to punch him for yelling at Marty, calling Bilbo all sorts of names because he'd gotten separated and subjected to Gollum (and THANK GOD that wasn't in the movie) in the midst of their flight from the Goblin King. If he hadn't admitted to being so wrong.... well... you know.

And then I remembered what it was about Thorin that I admired so much. He has the same raging passion for justice, integrity, honor and reliability that I had as I child. And Thorin expects the same bitter disappointment I had always expected. I was so difficult to get along with because I expected so much from people and was always so disappointed. It was not hard to behave properly and I never understood why people failed to do so on so regular a basis. Thorin watched his grandfather be consumed by his own weakness as I was watching my own parents' slow descent into a coming madness. I needed Thorin to lead me. As one of the last of the dwarves of Erebor he became the older brother in the family. And with the title of Eldest Sibling there is so much responsibility, so much worry, so much work.... and vigilance. Who else was supposed to help me do my job?

Watching the Hobbit, remembering what it was like to read the book if not recall it exactly, was an emotional trip. I think that I will have to go and read it before we watch the second installment. And I will have to actively separate Richard Armitage from his character. He is so good at immersing himself in the role, I suspect that comes from being a Geeky researcher, and tapping into the parts of himself that so closely reflect the characters flaws and all. It is no wonder that he is so reticent in interviews. It must seem as though he already has given away too much of himself in the role.

#FangirlIssues

So this being my first day off of the week I am trolling facebook for all the geek-worthy news and updates from friends and family that I missed because of work. All in all it is a good day for trolling. There is a controversial new book written by Rezi Aslan that has Fox News in a lather. Along with all the Christians who like to conveniently forget from what humble beginnings their savior comes. It's food for thought, a matter to mull over until I can compose a suitable essay on the matter. Religious studies is one of my long term Geek Studies that makes me happy happy to explore. Then there is this absolute travesty of Geek Matters: http://www.bbcamerica.com/anglophenia/2013/07/vote-in-the-anglo-fan-favorites-tournament-men-of-2013-round-1/2/

BBC-America is having us (ANGLOS) vote for man of the year. Round one is between Benedict Cumberbatch (zing zing zing) and Richard Armitage (zing zing zing). How in the name of all that is dear to the heartstrings is a fangirl supposed to chose between the two of them?! HOW? Dear God... I could no sooner chose my favorite star in the Heavens. Oh wait that is a lie. I am quite partial to Rigel in the Orion star cluster. But then there is Aldebran in Taurus. And Deneb in Cygnus...

See!!!!!!!!!!!! I can not chose!

I've been part of the Armitage Army since 2006 before I even knew we were an army. And I am a Cumberbitch. I can not chose in terms of first come first served because the intensity of the fandom is so strong in this one.

New Kirk old Kirk is easy. New Kirk. But I'd rather no Kirk at all.
New Spock Old Spock? Old Spock.
Enterprise-A Enterprise-D? D
Kirk or Picard. Duh... Picard.
Pepsi or Coke? Dr. Pepper.
Four, Ten or Eleven? The choice in Doctors is difficult. Four will always be my first love. And both 10 & 11 are endearing. But Ten is really the one that I'd watch over and over again.
Bond? Connery and Dalton.

Ugh! There goes the ambivalent Aquarius rearing its ugly yet indecisive head. And it isn't like you can do a legit pro and con list for Richard or Benedict. I like them for entirely different reasons. They are the two sides of the Force. Richard is admittedly "bad tempered and moody" and thus the Paragon of the romantic notion of Tall Dark and Handsome. Classic features and piercing eyes and that voice... slices right through me every time. And Benedict has classic features, granted they run toward the "quirky" side of British looks, piercing eyes and a voice that would slice through granite too. Also a Paragon: Tall, Dark and Winsome. Both are self proclaimed Geeks, "square" by Richard's description having spent a good deal of time with their noses in books as kids. In fact, if my math is correct, Richard and I read the Lord of the Rings Trilogy during the same Summer vacation.

What's not to love?

And they both have very interesting senses of humor. Benedict has a similar sense of humor to mine except he is better at physicality, mugging for a camera than I am. And Richard has the same shy, retired approach to humor with people he is not oft around. So if it is true that we are attracted to those that are most like us (or our earliest role models) I'd not be able to chose between them based on humor either.

So what then shall be the tie breaker? Both of them are absolutely appreciative of the fans. And are generous as the Wheaton with them. So the element of sweetness is not a clear determination. There is no way to chose.

And then if I could chose, in subsequent rounds they would be pitted against Ten and Eleven. It is a hopeless thing to have to chose the parts of my heart to celebrate. I am an Aquarius. We are the epitome of "wanting everyone to get along and feel loved. Loyal to a fault."

What might sway me is knowing there are uncommon shared interests. For instance, if I knew one of them listened to some of the not very mainstream music I like. But neither of them can admit to liking musicals. As the backstage talk for ST:NG indicates that busting out into broadway hits was something that Frakes did a lot, I tend to think that is something that most actors do. Not because they are swishy but because the high school musical production is where most of them start acting so it is a common enough language. And there is, admittedly, nothing funnier than singing familiar lyrics wrong just to piss the purists off. Not saying Riker did that as Wil has never said that was the case... but... it is within the realm of possibility.  Maybe knowing someone likes Eurodance versions of classic 60s, 70s and 80s music (Let's Dance from Vinylmoverz on the 80s Reloaded album is playing on Spotify- you know, cause I am weird like that).

I don't know. Something has to help me decide when it comes to polls like that.

But I would never chose otherwise. I like my FangirlDanceCard to be completely full.

Film Festival Cometh

Traverse City is relatively new to the film festival scene. I think this is the 6th or 7th one that we have done. Michael Moore, instrumental in refurbishing our old State Theater, started it and it's been a huge deal. Like most things in our area it started out as a way for us locals to celebrate something that we love. Cherry Festival was to celebrate the completion of the harverst for most of the 87 years that we've had it. And the film festival was to celebrate the thing we love and where we love to watch it- Movies at the State. But you can't keep movies to yourself. And you can not keep a gorgeous venue to yourself... it's just plain selfish. So the Film Festival going viral was bound to happen.

Now a lot of locals will say that they wish it would have stayed local, that they wish is would have taken longer for the world to find us and come in droves to suck up tickets so that it is harder for the "po' folk" to get there. But seriously.... if that is what we wanted we should have gotten behind restoring the theater back in the 80s before it sat vacant for 20 years. That's one of the funny things about our locals... Bitch about an eyesore but offer no constructive ideas about what to do with it. Then bitch twice as hard when someone else takes care of it and makes it more than a  great place for offensive graffiti. There is just no pleasing the Old Garde sometimes.

Personally I find the best part of the Festival the Ginormous Screen on the Open Space. Three stories of Ty-fighters battling X-wings and the Death Star going kaplooey. Free movies at dusk. With the water behind it I am not all that thrilled when they show Jaws. And you can bet every hair on Cumberbatch's head I will be there when Into Darkness graces that big screen.

I'm not sure of the movies showing this year. I might want to see Across the Universe. Or Austenland. I don't know. I usually get stuck with night shifts since I am the single chick and everyone else comes first. I do know that there will be lots of activity in town and a handful of celebs and with that kind of pressure the carefree geek in the last post will want to hide.

Coming out of Introversion and stepping into the cold hard light of day is not easy. And no matter how often you succeed in being better than your limitations there will always be those days where you chant "trizzle trazzle trozzle trome" and thank God for solitude and move Introversion from the Limitation column to Crowning Glory. I am glad that I'm not scared of every shadow and that reveling in all those wonderfully geeky things that I love no longer feels like an act of heresy. And I hope for the painfully shy whose career paths have thrust them into a cutting spot light (Armitage, Cumberbatch et all) that it is less unnerving as time goes by. I do have to remember though that God made me introverted for a reason....

it is an early warning system for the sensitive that is more subtle than a 7 foot robot with flailing arms that screams out a warning every time the wind blows & thinks everyone's name is Will Robinson. Nothing like telling your enemies you are on to them. Subtlety Robot. Subtlety. Or is it decorum?

Anyway... if I get to brave the crowds I shall revel in all the fantasy that Hollywood can give me with people who share my passion for storytelling and fantasy, escapism and wonderment.

General Quarters: All Hands to Battle Stations!

The klaxons have been going off in my body for a while now. From the moment that I started the process of forcing my brother to finish up the terms of Dad's will with a lawyer of my own, my body has been telling me that there are Romulans to Port and Klingons to Starboard. I can not see an enemy vessel in my vicinity. What that usually means then is that the attack is spiritual in nature.

Someone I love is going to need my emotional support and any positive energy for defense and encouragement that I can send. I hate that. I hate it because that means someone that I love is going to need to go through one of those horrible life experiences that build character. It is always a lot of pain. And while the pain is as temporary and fleeting as a bit of gas following baked beans it still stinks to high heaven. And there is almost nothing that I can ever do to prevent it.

And I don't know who is suffering. I can not help. And yet the red alerts have been going off for a year now. So for a long time I expected to hear Matze would divorce. That is something that my righteously indignant self can rally behind to send comforting energy. But there is not any reason to think that will happen. Thankfully he seems to have found in Sarah the best match of his life. Which is great because he truly has had to suffer enough at the hands of the fickle. So then I thought that maybe the doom that falls next would be something with my sister. I've been out of contact with her for almost  year because she lost technical support.

But no. She is back up and running and the whole family is great and there have not been any issues. And she has filled me in on all I've missed from the people on her end who I do like but do not keep in touch with. And they all seem to be doing great. So this sense of doom that has been lurking around me seems definitely to come from the realm of "Things that I am a Fan of".

Which meant that my heart dropped when Randy Travis went into the hospital last week. You would think if that was it that when the announcement was made, having identified the possible cause for that warning that the warning would stop. It is not stopping. Matze is fine. Randy is doing better. There is nothing on the radar of possible heartache or physical pain for Armitage, Cumberbatch, Tennant, Smith or anyone else that has captured my attention so intensely. Wheatons are doing great. So what is it?

What is making me feel defensive? What is making my batleth hand twitch for action?

The last time I felt this cagey was the week leading up to September 11. And nothing about that last time felt personal. Something terrible is headed my way and I can not see what it is.

Obsessions

They are part and parcel of geek life. Most of mine are healthy obsessions, outlets for creativity or inspiration for my art work. I am not one of those people who likes fan fiction. I wrote my share when I was younger. When I realized that all I was creating was 1 new friend and 1 or 2 new enemies for the Enterprise-D and just parroting the crew I gave up. Not because it wasn't good to exercise my writing muscles, but because they were not the stories that wanted to come out of me. And the stories that want out are taking their time getting here. But that is fine. They will come when they are ready.
I am however one of those people who likes to learn all there is about the thing for which I am a fan and to experience the creative fan love of other fans.

My latest obsession, if I haven't mentioned it before, is Richard Armitage. And as usual, I find none of my immediate geek friends even know who I am talking about... until we mention the Hobbit. But apparently in my little recessed corner of Geekdom, because Thorin is not the hot bodied character that the elves or Aragorn are no one has noticed him. Of course I notice him because I spent 3 seasons drooling over Guy Gisbourne. But I can't seem to convince my girlfriends a. that he really isn't a dwarf, b. that if he is a dwarf he is the tallest one in history, c. that of all the dwarves he is the cutest one and that d. no actor is ever the sum of a single role and he totally deserves a thorough look see. To prove my point, I posted this picture from the internet (I honestly have not figured out how to link back to anyone. So should the copyright holder like to come forward I will gladly give proper attributions)

I guess since I have not been terribly persuasive I will have to enjoy his artistry along with the fans in other parts of the world who think that I am slow to board the Armitage Train. And thus I am brought back to one of the prickly parts of the Geek puzzle: how? how is it that I am so alone in my obsessions?

 I know that I do not comprise the entirety of the Armitage Army, I am not the only RDA fan on the planet. But apparently in my little corner of Michigan I am the only Matthias Reim fan and the only Richard Armitage fan and the only one who can watch BBC programs and recognize character actors on sight. Oh, did I mention that I have a horrible habit of listing a nearly complete filmography in the processs of OMG OMG OMG OMG-ing?  I did get my roommate to join me on the last few episodes of Robin Hood. And while she concurs that he is the most likeable and sympathetic of Gisbournes, this is not her kind of TV. Which might mean that I will have to have her watch North and South. Between the two of us we might have all the most recent versions of English Lit on Film. So that would be worth sitting through. Can't help it, I love a good swashbuckler.

In my expanded geek circles, the circle that encompasses the group of friends I had in high school who went some where outside of Michigan to seek their fortunes it is quite a different story. I was the only trekkie in the group. But I am not alone in my love of British TV.... except that I am still the only one on this side of the pond who actually knows who Jeremy Brett is and mourns his loss even with the wonderful new Holmes that we have in Benedict Cumberbatch.

I guess that is always going to be the way of the Geek. The Venn Diagram just can't cover everything and everyone. But does that center shape have to be so friggin empty? Who knows, may be by being the geek that I am and loving the things that I love the way that I do and without apology, without hiding it from family who will not understand, I will meet more people who share the things that I love. And the magic will happen with the gift of the Internet if it will not happen with the blessing of physical proximity.

At any rate, if you have never met one of his characters you do yourself a disservice. He is wonderfully in tune with every character that he has portrayed that I have seen. It is said that once in character he does not come out of character until filming is over. That kind of dedication to the craft is very much evident and makes him all the more valuable in an ensemble. And he is also one of the most fan-friendly stars. It seems to be the way of the non-American types. If you get a chance to meet him, be respectful of his time. But at least smile and send a cheerful wave of support his way. People don't like to have tea interrupted or be groped by strangers, but a show of solidarity is always good karma for both parties.

Well off to find more RA videos on You Tube. Guy and the Sheriff mashed with Pinky and Brain is priceless.

Narf!