Do you hear the people sing?

 Sometimes we get lucky in our home movie watching. We may have wandered off to watch a bit of "A Team" or we wander on to this, Les Miserable, if we are lucky.

This is history, bloody and messy. The whole story is about surviving, being in love, fighting for beliefs, and having some tremendous music.

 

 Big scene, sets  up the conflict  and the students manning the barricade.  The   poverty of the poor is a shock for our sweet society.

 

 Of all the songs to watch, this one is a lynch pin.

As is expected, people will die tragically, lovers almost miss their window of love opportunity, the villain throws himself into water, the hero rescues the lovers. The music grabs a hold of the audience and will not let go until the curtain falls.

Victor Hugo was the author, THE author. There is so much that can be told about him and what he wrote.  

 

There are movies that are worth watching, several times.Okay, I could not leave this song, which every one in the music world enjoys. 

 

 

Colm Wilkingson is the famous performer that

set the whole tone of the musical.

This segment is 7 minutes long.

I know, long. But

Please

fast through bits.  

 

 So, there you go. I did not to make this a movie review, and is now. This is a review of how awesome the actors are and pure music.

 

Recess is hell.

 \

 

        Live long             

The teachers shivered as they watched the recess horde which never ever ended. It’s death or life, lies or truth. It's them or us. Their eyes glazed around the mob, knowing that some opportunity could lead to havoc.   

Like the crack of a jump rope, a type of sizzling chemistry suddenly burst around them, exploding loose. Screw philosophy and fact. Forget about instruction, all the facts from teacher education. Clothes? Who needs them when all hell breaks loose?

Somewhere, there is an agency, somewhere that will set the playground in order. Over near the swings there would be a huddled group of people, clutching boxes of books, reading as if their lives depending on it. The agency will know how to help them all. Soon.

I wouldn’t count on help coming anytime soon.

  This meme was started by Delores a long time ago.  Troubles led her to bow out, but the meme was too much fun to let go, and now Words for Wednesday is provided by a number of people and has become a movable feast. With Elephant's Child  and other blogger volunteers, Mother Owl's we will find the challenges. Underlined words are some of the words available.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind. My difficulty is using words that were just released. Grant me some forgiveness, greatness cannot be hurried.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words. Head on over to play with words

I am well versed in recess duty.  There is no joy in that place.

 

 

 

Sacred Sacrifice

 

Site of the Battle of Petersburg, Civil War, now just another field

There is sanctity of places and events that we tend to ignore.  There is no sign, or sound effects.  No actual fireworks announce the conception of a baby.  No arrow pointing to a place that says, “I almost got hit by a car, right here!”  No, unless there is a brass plaque that has been dedicated by a ceremony, we seldom know that anything momentous ever happened right there.

We visited places in Ireland, Wales, and Scotland some decades ago. Wandering around long lush woodlands, broad fields, I read one of the memorials which gave me an image of brutality and death.

 

In this field, 1200 men were brutally slaughtered, their blood drenched the ground. Over there, in a natural cave, Vikings savagely attacked the villagers who were hiding . 2,000 men, women, and children were brutally murdered.

I have been to many cemeteries, maybe too many.  Growing up in my community, the cemetery was frequently visited for a variety of reasons, not just to ‘plant a body’.  No, we went there to honor someone there, who was loved and cared for long after they died.

Died.  What a harsh word.  When my mother died in April, I came back to my home in California.  A man at church asked me how my mother was.  I had just returned the day before.  I looked him in the eye, and said, “Oh, she died the day we got there.”  He winced.  I saw it: a wince.

Do we all wince at the word?  It is much kinder to say, “passed away”, or “gone”, maybe “left us”.  But that is silly in my thinking.  She  died.

We were in Washington, DC, not too long ago.  We are history nuts, not buffs; “nuts” is the truth.  We stood in various places, and said “Over there, they built up a dirt berm to keep the British back” or “Here is where Jefferson said…”  We stood in the World War II Memorial, and walked around the circle. 

 

In honor of the Australian soldiers who died at Gallipolis

My father once told me about a conversation he had with a stranger, a veteran like himself.  They talked about the war, where they had been.   They talked about the proposed memorial.  Dad said, “Well, I don’t know… pause, he always had long pauses…look around us.  We got a whole country of memorials for what we done.”  He was referring to the economic boom and the building of modern America, that followed the big World War.

Red poppies in Flanders Fields, France

So many millions died during that War.  Are all those towns, fields, forests, and jungles marked by plaques?  No. 

Sanctity—we need to remember there are places and events that need to be remembered as sacred, or holy.  Why?  Because someone died there, something enormous happened.

This was written during WW1.

Keep these sacred, before some group decides to torch or tear down the headstones.

Bad Movies: Gotta love 'em

source

Three months have passed and good entertainment is limited.  BUT, there are still movies few have seen.  The worst film titles with their movies are worth a giggle. And Lord knows that we all need to have some of a chuckle, giggle, or wonder.

Saving the World

My husband is veritable encyclopedia of awful movies with their awful titles. When we trolled through his knowledge, I discovered a treasure trove of really bad movies.

Warrior Nun
Strives to kill.
She came from where
She is Surrounded by Death.

Hardcore Henry
Fighting AKAN
Alive but dead
Finding his way home.

Thong Girl
Battling a villain
vs. Xalta
Where to destroy?
In Outer Space.

Snakes 
Seeking food
On a plane.
Who dies?
Who wins?

I actually loved
this. Samuel L. 
Jackson

Birdemic
Shock and terror
Cringe and gasp
It is what it is.

The Constant Gardener
Seeks with shears,
Sun goes down,
No one is safe.

Look and you will find them, sadly, but grab some popcorn, beer, and lots of wine. Darkness will fall, life goes on. Good or bad movies, they are all the same. Give your mind a rest.

Wednesday Words: Emilia, precious Emlia

Tom Conway, 1905-1967

While James appeared to be non-chalant to the point of being flippant at this sad funeral, his insides churned with the anxiety that consumed him.  No one would have ferreted out the source of his distress except Emilia, precious Emilia.

And she lay in the coffin.  Emilia.  How James had loved her.  She held the essence of beauty even now, cold in death. 

Just days before, when truth had come speeding through her understanding, Emilia had faced him.  “It was you!  You poisoned me over time, with mercury.  Why?  Why?”

James stepped out from shadowed staircase.  

Rachel Roberts 1927-1980

”Simple, my love.  You are the only one who truly understood me.  Others labeled me ‘arrogant’, but you knew, you knew…”  

With a final gasp, Emilia crumbled to the floor. 

What was James' secret?  Why did he poison

Emilia?  What.....

Every Wednesday Delores presents 6 unrelated words and asks participants to create prose, poetry, flash fiction, etc.  No date limit.  These may be posted in her site comments or in your own post (please link back to Delores).  Click on the lonely train tracks in my right sidebar to find the list of participants!

Death Washes the Past

This was Janie C.--she traveled to Oregon in a covered wagon, hated it, came home. So I have been told.

It is said that death bestows gifts upon all.  I won’t try to name them, but the one I like is: Death washes the past and gives sanctity to the dead.

Julia, Nora, Bessie, and ?

At least, so I thought.  Recently I visited my favorite and remaining Aunt Vada in Macon, Missouri.  It was the first week of October, with all the beauty of fall giving glimpses of what colors were to come.  We visited non-stop, words filling the air.  Aunt Vada is a gifted writer, with a way of placing words exactly where they need to be. 

James W. Shive, died at age 3 years, 3 months, and 16 days.

One of our days involved traveling to my mother’s hometown, across the Mississippi River into Pike County, Illinois. 

We visited Crescent Heights Cemetery high on the bluffs in Pleasant Hill, IL, where Mom’s parents and relatives were buried.  Each time I have been there, I vowed that this place has the most incredible view of any cemetery.  

It is also the only place I can get cell phone coverage in the whole of Pike County.

We stood silently over Grandma and Grandpa’s graves, and then examined a family pillar on which Grandma’s side of the family were recorded.  I have seen that thing hundreds of times over my life there, but I never knew.  I never knew the stories that Aunt Vada shared with me.

My grandparents

Oh. Really?  No, not back then…  Those were my words and reactions as she touched each name and told the highlights of some very rowdy, randy, and raunchy ancestors. 

Martin Van Buren Shive, patriarch with the names of his children carved on all sides of the monument.  Lots of children.

Moonshiners, fornicators, adulterers, underhanded politicians, swindlers—they broke every sin listed in the Bible. 

I tell you, check out your ancestors while you still have relatives who know the whole story about them.  And, it might be a good idea to look at your own life, since someday you’ll be the ancestor about whom stories will be told.