Firefly, or Rather, Perfection

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     Sometimes when I watch something, and more often when I read something, I get this strange fluttery feeling.  Its not like this giddy feeling, but its something that I feel when my mind says That was really good.  To be honest, I don't get that feeling a lot.  In fact I get it rarely.

     One thing that gives me this indescribable feeling is a show that I was introduced to a while ago.  The person who introduced me was my wonderful mother.  She was the one who said we should start watching Firefly together.  However, I watched the first episode with my Grandpa, mom, and dad.  The first episode is awesome.  It is also about 85 minutes long.

     The first time I watched it I was sitting next to my Grandpa.  I still don't know if the fluttery feeling was because I really liked that first episode or if it was because I was really happy to be watching something while snuggled up next to my Grandpa... whatever the reason it was amazing.

     That was two years ago though.  So, in February (If I'm remembering correctly) I re-started watching Firefly. When I say I re-started I mean that I watched the 1st episode again.  But guess what?!  It gave me the same exact feeling... again.  And every episode has given me the same feeling at one point or another.

     My conclusion: Firefly is Perfection.

     Second conclusion: The people who stopped funding it clearly had/have no brain... and if they do it just makes it worse.

     My heart is breaking over the fact that there is only 14 episodes/1 season.  Every moment of those 14 episodes are worthwhile.  My Grandpa loved Firefly, and I can see why.  It is perfect because of the just how deep the characters are.  River and her brother Simon are perfect together.  Mal's loyalty to his crew, and how they return that affection is beautiful.  The relationships between the different charecters are amazing.  And this is only half of it.  There is also the setting, and plot which makes everything more interesting.

     Firefly, you are perfection.  Netflix, thank you for having it on instant play.

     Everybody, if you have time to watch a little less then 1,700 minutes of perfection then you should watch Firefly... if you don't I am sorry for you.  Truly sorry.  However, you should at least watch the sequel movie, which makes perfect sense even if you haven't watched what there is of the show.  It's perfection to, although it's called Serenity, not perfection.

Short Story: Shadows Passing

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     Sometimes I just want people to read what I write.  Mostly I want my wonderful family to read what my mind makes up.  But other times I just wish that it could float out there, for people to read sometime, when boredom sets in and they have nothing better to do.  So here is one of those stories, that I wrote sometime ago and wish to let float.  So if you have time and want to read this, or are simply really bored, here it is.  Read it, if you want to, and hopefully you enjoy it too.

          Shadows Passing

     This event is happening as I write; and I will share with you what I see.  Two rivers run through a wood, that we would call paradise, almost exactly perpendicular to each other.   It is a place where no humans have ever been, at least nothing that was truly and fully human.  In the wood is a clearing, one of many, that rests on the side of a river.  The river bubbles and foams, however, it only adds to the beauty of the place and leaves the place quiet and peaceful.  

     The sun begins to brush the tree tops in the west, and the animals that live there are preparing their beds and nests for the night.  The sun’s rays still light the clearing and it is alive with color; however, the brightest thing in the clearing is the silver glow of the harp which stands upright atop a grey-brown stone which lays on the rivers bank.

     A dark shape moves through the woods that lay on the opposite side of the river.  It travels towards the clearing; and as it comes closer, it looks less and less formidable.  Suddenly it emerges from the woods.  It stands still on the edge of the rivers opposite bank. The figure stands for only a moment and then leaps from the edge to a rock only a couple feet away from it.  It leaps stone to stone across the river.  And when it reaches the side where the clearing is it stops.  The figure holds its head high but the large hood of the cloak keeps the figure’s face in shadow.  

     The person glides over to the harp and slips its arms outside of the cloak and unclasps it.  The figure slides the cloak off and the dark black fabric of the cloak billows to the ground and settles around the personage's feet.  The now-revealed figure is a girl.  Her straight, black hair hangs down to her slim waist; and she wears a form-fitting white dress which brushes her ankles and has long sleeves.  She bends and spreads the black cloak over the rock in front of the harp.  She then sits on the ground by the harp.  She lifts her hands to the strings and begins to play.

     The music is eerie and yet beautiful.  After a few minutes wisps of smoke start to come off of the strings.  She playes until the sun goes down and the sky darkens, and she continues.  The whips of smoke float away from the strings and lengthen into the shadowy representations of people.  Hundreds of shadowy figures surround the girl in the clearing by the river, and she plays on and on.  The moon comes out and still shadow people are forming in the woods that directly surrounds the clearing.  The stars come out and the music slows and then stops.  The wisps of smoke vanish.  Yet, the shadowy figures remain.  

     The girl stands and steps away from the harp.  Her dress stands out, bright against the dark night and the shadows of people.  She takes the hand of a little shadow girl who stands next to her and then whispers something to her.  The little girl nods and then the white clothed girl lets go of the little girls shadowy, smokey hand.  The little girl then walks through the harp’s frame and the strings seem to slice her as she enters the next life and her soul, which is like a shadow, leaves earth.  The rest of the shadowy souls seem to understand that they too must enter the next world through the harp.  Slowly, one by one, each of them walk through the harp into the next world.

     When all the souls are gone, the girl picks her cloak off of the ground and drops it onto her shoulders, closes the clasps, and lifts the hood.  She, Death, seems to glide away, her beautiful figure covered by the cloak and her head held high.  Death then slips into the woods, out of the clearing, and into pure, unmarred darkness.  Her work is done for the time being. 

Age Equals Wise?

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     We age as the clock ticks steadily onward and around the clock.  But what does our age mean? Why does it matter. Does it make as much sense as measuring time?

     Schools divide kids up by age, determining which aged children are ready for learning this kind of stuff and that the younger kids are ready for other stuff.  Our society divides people up by age.  21 year old's can drink.  In New York 16 year olds can get driving permits.  Children suddenly becoming teens when they turn 13, and thus are thought to do certain things, because they are "that age."

     Our culture thrives on categorizing by age.  But why?

     I think most people like to think that the passing of time, and becoming older, gives you wisdom.  That with the higher numbers come a higher level of wisdom.  We determine that school aged children aren't yet wise.  Where as Grandparents are wise.  I think people now are starting to begrudge this system.  Teens dont like how parents always think they are right, and parents don't like their kids grandparents to barge in and try to help them parent.  We like to think that we already are wise, that we know enough to get by all right.

     But isn't it childish to think yourself wise?

     Maybe wisdom shouldn't be measured by age then.  For you can be an adult and still act like a child.  But perhaps our wisdom, our capacity should be measured by our ability to make decisions.  Perhaps the question shouldn't be is my child old enough to make that decision but do I think my child has the wisdom to properly make this choice.  Or perhaps we should let our children make choices and then judge future things by how well they made the last choice.

     Age of course is something important but maybe we should adjust our views of what a child, teen, and adult are.

     Perhaps we shouldn't look at a 15 year-old and say "They are a teen."  Perhaps we should get to know the said 15 year-old and then judge by how wise and capable of making decisions.  Although we will probably always have to rely on age to help us divide kids up in school, and such things.
And now, I have officially over thought this.