DAILY PHOTO: Scenes from Kolkata
Reply
“What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why” by Edna St. Vincent Millay
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning; but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply, And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain For unremembered lads that not again Will turn to me at midnight with a cry. Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, Yet knows its boughs more silent than before: I cannot say what loves have come and gone, I only know that summer sang in me A little while, that in me sings no more.
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PROMPT: Should Know
What’s something you believe everyone should know.
At the risk of mixed metaphor and cliche: how to walk a mile in another person’s shoes while keeping in mind that no one is the villain of his or her own story.
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Fish Drift [Free Verse]
With lazy mazy motion the fish slips through its watery world. With no apparent purpose but to trace out a route through dreamland.
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DAILY PHOTO: Scenes from the Sundarbans
The Second Coming by W. B. Yeats [w/ Audio]
Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?
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BOOKS: The Batman Who Laughs by Scott Snyder
The Batman Who Laughs by Scott SnyderMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
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This volume plays on the spookiness of buffoonery that has made the Joker not only one the most well-known and effective villains of Batman’s rogues’ gallery but in all of comic books. However, while the Joker does play a role in this book, he’s not the villain. Instead, the book employs the popular comic book scenario of having the villain be a version of the hero, a version without moral compunctions or constraints. In this case, the central villain is a demented and mutated version of Batman with Jokeresque qualities, assisted by a Batman who is a bit more malevolent and vengeful, one who goes by the moniker Grim Knight.
How are there multiple versions of Batman? The multiverse, of course. That makes this a sci-fi heavy Batman story. If you like your Batman of the Matt Reeves / Robert Pattinson variety — i.e. in a plausible world, with fully human enemies, and with no freaky supernatural happenings, then this one may not be for you. That said, I don’t think the sci-fi elements detracted from the story, and they did allow for some compelling story elements. Snyder, wisely, avoids a problem that can readily plague sci-fi intense Batman stories, which is reference to (or cameos of) the god-tier DC heroes. (An occurrence that always begs the question, why wouldn’t Superman use his god-like powers to fix this debacle before heading to lunch.)
I enjoyed this story. I especially enjoyed that it wrapped up the narrative arc in a tidy package. It is often the case that comic book volumes end with a speedbump on the way to the next volume. This story felt like the central issue was resolved, while still leaving potential for future stories. I should point out that, with flashbacks and multiple Batmen, it does require one’s full attention while reading, lest one get lost between backstory and the present.
I’d highly recommend this volume for comic book readers.
View all my reviews
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PROMPT: Kid at Heart
What does it mean to be a kid at heart?
The capacity to see humor in flatulence, even when it’s your own.
Oh, wait, maybe I’m thinking of a “kid at fart.”
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Jack-O-Lantern [Free Verse]
Orange orbs cut with fearful faces: Burning brightly - daily & nightly - As menacing medicine for the cringe-impaired, The ones who never get scared -- unless a banal ball, blazing & brainless, (and in a manner all but painless) replaced the head of their town's barber.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 