Bug; Ritual; Feline Hockey; LOTR

At long last I've been able to celebrate the holidays. I was beginning to think I would never get over the tummy bug. I kept hoping I'd get better, but I didn't. So yesterday afternoon, I went to the clinic. They did some blood work which indicated it was not viral but most likely bacterial. Which means it would respond to antibiotics. Of course, I'd not gone to the doctor because I thought it was virual and therefore would not respond to antibiotics.

Oh me. Oh my. This is very frustrating. It means that if I'd gone last week when I first noticed a problem, I would have had merrier holidays.

What I really hate about a situation such as this is the severe depression it causes. Everything is blank, nothing holds any interest, all memories are painful, and you don't even remember what it's like not to be this way. This happens even though I'm taking a fairly steady regimen of antidepressants. Crap! Crap! Crap!

These have always been glorious liturgical events filled with much symbolic ritual. Although there are doubts in my mind as to the certainity of Christian dogma, I'm willing to appreciate the efficacy of the ceremonies. (I'm convinced that the process of discernment may have more meaning than the actual results.)

My big present had arrived several weeks earlier in the form of a new Sony Vaio. It's amazing to me how far advanced it is over the last one I had which was a present two years ago. And a great present the Vaio is.

Momsy gave me some yarn balls and cat toys for the felines. When I got back, I threw them out on the floor, and they immediately began to bat them around. For about 15 minutes there was this mad scene like some form of feline hockey with multiple pucks. My one reservation about leaving them out is the fear they will swish them onto the floor furnace.

By the way: all five are snoozing next to me on the couch.

I was there at 4:15, but so were 500 other people. When I finally got to the booth, I was told there were only 15 seats left for 4:30. So I opted for the 5 o'clock showing.

As I was standing in line, a kid behind me asked if I was a Tolkien fan. I told him I was and that I'd first read the books before most people had heard of Tolkien. (I can even remember finding a copy of "The Two Towers" at the library, and it looked like it had never been read.) I wound up having a great conversation with the kid and his younger brother. He had actually read some of Tolkien's other works that I'd tried and gave up on. By chance, we sat close to each other, and the younger brother asked me if I knew how it ended. When I say I did, he quickly told me not to tell him. (In a way, I was surprised they would be so talkative with someone they didn't know. Hmmm. But then I'm also surprised I was so talkative with someone I didn't know.)

The movie is incredible! I'd read some of the comments and reviews at IMDB, so I thought I was prepared. But by the end, I was silently weeping. It was that powerful.

There's a splendid sense of what I'd have to call emotional accretion. You start off feeling slightly distant from the characters, but you rapidly become more involved, and then you're totally hooked.

The battle scenes are vast beyond anything ever seen on the screen. Massively detailed. Armies that look like real armies. Fighting that is terrifying and chaotic. Akira Kurosowa was a genius at portraying battle, but this is beyond that.

There are many other parts worthy of note. One of the most magical involves the lighting of signal beacons across the mountains.

Movies are possibly the most communal of events. As I sit and watch in a theatre here, there are those doing the same in London, or Tokyo, or Pretoria or Wellington or Rio. On a day of reserved for universal brotherhood, that's most comforting!

PAX!