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Sunday, September 28, 2014

Three Things

Good Monsters
Funnily enough, after mentioning Mothra the other day, one of her movies came on the tube.

Confession — I’d never seen Mothra vs. Godzilla before. At least not that I can recall. I didn’t specifically remember:
  • Infant Island — the island in the South Pacific inhabited by Mothra worshippers.
  • The tiny Shobijin (AKA Mothra fairies)
The Fairies in all of the movies, from the Showa era, are called, Shobijin. They all have psychic abilities, including telepathy, & in Mothra vs Godzilla, they demonstrate teleportation while escaping from Torahata & Kumayama. Lastly, they can understand monster roars.
  • Or the unscrupulous, Gaia defiling condo developers who get whacked by Karma just halfway through the flick (why can’t real life be like that?).
Torahata clearly comes across as the most despicable villain of the picture, despite Godzilla's rampage. After all, Godzilla is, ultimately, just a dumb animal following his instincts.
Hells, I didn’t even exactly recall that Mothra was a hero, defender of Tokyo and ultimately a martyr. Mind you, her motivation maybe, probably, undoubtedly had way more to do with keeping her eggs from becoming Godzilla brekkie than saving 11 mil measly, pathetic humans. Outcome is the same. Mothra saved Tokyo AND her eggs!

What a great multi-tasker!

Oh the GUILT
Our man Rocco exploring new territory
Rocco was jonsin’ for the Beef in Gravy Friskies this morning. Normally he and Coco are totes down with the fish offerings but sometimes, well, only a bit of cow will do. That was this morning.

Yeah, I’m a vegetarian, my cats are not. I’m not gonna force them to be something that just isn’t in their natures.

So, what up with all the guilt? Is guilt one of my bad habits — a leftover from a Catholic school upbringing?

In other cat news, Rocco’s continuing to make progress. Yesterday morning he actually came into the living room and looked out a window for a little while. For the most part he sits on the steps down to the basement. If I sit down on the kitchen floor though, he races up and in to be patted and cosseted.

Slowly but surely he’s settling in.

This despite Coco’s less than Welcome Wagon reception. Our otherwise sweet, crazy, love monster kitten took a swipe at poor Rocco as he walked passed her (the nerve of him!) yesterday. How’d our fierce formal feral react? He didn’t. Just kept walking. He’s a cat of peace.


Just got the word that my friend Brian’s husband, John, has succumbed to the cancer that was eating him up. Before John slipped out, Brian wrote me this:
We are probably at the end of John's journey, we are in hospital, and they said have a party, so THAT'S what we'll do. Hugs! And may Vivaldi be in your internal juke box today!
Have a party? YES! There’s plenty of time for sadness, for mourning — let’s greet journey’s end with a big goddamn celebration of all that our loved one is, was and what they meant to us and so many others.

Ya know, I don’t generally get classical on the internal Wurlitzer (I think I need lyrics to goose the brain wiring) but, right now, the Four Seasons are playing big and beautiful.

I raise my cup to John McLoughlin of Rockdale, New South Wales and his awesome husband Brian.

Cheers mon ami!

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