Shag

source: wikipedia

This is the Shag.
The Shag is a bird.
It's normal for blokes to shag birds.
Sometimes blokes shag blokes,
or birds shag birds, that's okay too.
Shags even shag Shags
but neither blokes nor birds shag Shags - it's frowned upon.
You may, however, bird the Shag.
That is all.

(Inspired by a post form Relax Max)

Parsifal

Day before yesterday, I saw my first Wagner opera: Parsifal. I have seen (and even enjoyed) quite a few operas - you have to, if you live in Vienna, or else they kick you out, but I had shied away from Wagner, until now.

Grand Théâtre de Genève

The venue was the Grand Théâtre de Genève, and quite nice. It's not the Staatsoper in Vienna, but then again, no opera is the Staatsoper, except the Staatsoper.

During intermission

I was a bit anxious about it beforehand - Parsifal is nearly six hours long, and six hours of Wagner at that. But I was most pleasantly surprised, not only did I not fall asleep, I enjoyed myself thoroughly.

The production was minimalist, with nearly no props, which led to the very amusing scene were Parsifal is brought before Gurnemanz for having slain a swan, a big no-no at Monsalvat, it being the resting place of the grail and all. Gurnemanz is supposed to confront Parsifal with the body of the swan, but in keeping with the minimalism of his production, director Roland Aeschlimann has Gurnemanz show a photo of the swan instead. From the ranks you can't really see whether it is photographic evidence, or just a photo of the swan Grunemanz happens to carry around with him. I, of course, chose to believe the latter, and dissolved into giggles imagining the relationship of Gurnemanz and his "unschuldiger Schwan". Ahem.

Another very weird thing was the stage setting in the hall of the grail. Here is a grainy photo of it (from the very end of the opera, Parsifal having returned the holy spear is just healing Amfortas):

If you want to find all the letters, you have to stir the blood a bit.

The thing in the back represents the holy grail, with the blood of Christ (sorry, the Redeemer, Wagner never mentions Christ in the opera) - and letter soup? It's the holy grail - it heals, it prolongs life, brings you salvation and it teaches you to read! Now, let's eat the A's first!

An efficient special effect was the semi-transparent curtain in front of the stage - lit by different lamps from various angles, it made for very effective simulations of fog, and nice fade-outs.

In the end, this has rekindled my interest in opera - I'll have to check out what's playing here in Lausanne!

Requiem for a KRZR

Sleek and blue,
your promise great -
none of it true,
I found out to late.

Your menus were,
labyrinthine,
a nightmare blur,
haunt dreams of mine.

From time to time,
you'd reset with glee
and then you'd chime
to inconvenience me.

Then you would,
refuse to connect,
because you could,
is what I suspect.

Maliciously I sat,
on you  anew and anew -
at last you have cracked
good riddance to you!

Monthly Book Haul

Ah, my good friend Amazon delivered my monthly book fix.

As usual, it is mostly fantasy and science-fiction, with one poetry book thrown in. I have become interested in poetry since I decided to leave comments in poetry-form on deviantart, so I thought I might learn something from the masters. I have never really read poetry before, except Milton's Paradise Lost, and a bit of Blake's Songs of Innocence and Experience, and I am curious if I will take to it.

Books from top to bottom:


Six Centuries of Great Poetry

The Blood King and
The Summoner, both by Gail Martin


Winterbirth, by Brian Ruckley

The Awakened Mage, by Karen Miller


The Elysium Commission, by L. E Modesitt

The Books of Martin and Miller (her second book should be along in a week or so) are somewhat of a rarity in the F/SF genre: duologies. For some reason most authors seem to prefer trilogies or monster series.

I may post some reviews once I am through them.

Some Alliteration

Another poem I wrote, to ~den-of-thieves "Dave".



Dave the dire dog,
dastardly demonic,
dare touch the dog-bowl:
Dave's teeth dig deeply!

Star Wars Poetry

The nice thing at deviantart is that you can give and receive comments, of course. Now most of the interaction that takes place are fairly inane "awesome!" comments. So I decided that I would leave little poems when I liked a picture. So far I've written about twenty, here is one about ~jarwarstudios' Sith Hunter:

It began, sighed Boba Fett,

as a bet.
There was this bar,
I was upset,
so I drank,
as to forget.
There was this guy,
black as jet,
I said I'd hit
any target.
He asked me,
voice'd velvet
what I would,
as wager set.
"I don't care,
my little pet,
I will win,
don't be upset!"
So I brag'd,
to my regret,
"I'll bet my balls,
do not sweat!"
So that guy,
a silhouette,
turned out a sith,
and did collect.
Which is why,
I have this set,
this pair of breasts,
and speak falsett'
But 'lest you laugh,
do not forget,
the best Bounty Hunter yet,
is now and ever
Bobette Fett!