Next Up On Critical Me: Finding Dory, Passengers, and Rouge One, and the First Two Episodes of Sherlock Season 4 (Because I can't help it). And My Favorite Childhood Movies. And this post isn't as long as the title makes it out to be.

Finding Dory 

Honestly I had really low expectations for this movie.  I had already read the finding dory coloring book to some kids I was baby sitting, and I thought I had just read the whole movie.

I actually enjoyed Finding Dory.

The movie was over all very simple, and focused more on character and humor then it did plot.

The same characters from Finding Nemo were still well developed and lovable, and the new characters in Finding Dory were also well developed and lovable.

The dialogue was pretty good.  Had it's share of corny moments and cleaver moments.

Humor was great.  I've been rather disappointed with PIXAR humor ever sense they went through that dark faze (*COUGH* Brave *COUGH* Cars 2 *COUGH*) But I greatly appreciated the Finding Dory humor.

In my own personal opinion, I thought the ending was too happy.  It all wrapped up too conveniently.  I suppose I should cut a kids movie some slack, but still.

On a scale from 1 to 10, I would give Finding Dory a 7.

Passengers 

 Emotional.  Stressful.
This movie also surprised me.  According to the previews this movie looked like a cleche space romance.
Twas a romance, and twas in space, but it was also original, well thought through, clever, and very emotional.  They were unmerciful with conflict, keeping me cringing and wondering what I'd do in such a situation.
Dialogue was moderate (too many stereotypical romance catch phrases).  Characters were likable (the conflict of the movie drove me to liking them).
Romance was...Meh.  Although being a harsh person towards romance in the first place, I suppose you should let a romantic person do the judging.  Also some *cough* 'scenes' to be aware of, so don't say I didn't warn you.
On a scale from 1 to 10, I would give Passengers an 8.

Rouge One 

Rouge one was the story between Revenge of the Sith and A New Hope.

Twas well done, although honestly, I found it rather boring.  If I had never seen a sci-fi movie before, I might have thought it was exciting.  As far as action and plot and dialogue, Rough One seemed no different from any other star wars.  Which isn't a bad thing.  Especially if you like star wars.  But I was falling asleep during the fight scenes, which was rather disappointing.

Humor was well done.  Dialogue wasn't very good.

Acting was so-so.  Although I was still very impressed with the characters.  They were lovable, and weren't 'dummer and weaker then the tough girl' which made me very happy.  I wasn't a fan of female main character, but was very impressed by the other characters (and who were better actors then she).

Main character wasn't all that bad though.  She wasn't 'too cool' or 'too tough,' but was realistic and had some what of a soul.

Now, unlike Finding Dory, this ending was fantastic and realistic and heart ripping.

n a scale from o1 to 10, I would give Rouge One a 7.

The first two episodes of Sherlock, season 4 (and Sherlock in general)

Normally I'd wait till the whole season ended before blogging about it, but just these first two episodes of season 4 were so amazing and heart wrenching that I simply couldn't restrain myself.

I haven't seem something so fantastic and mind blowing in a long time. 

To begin with, Sherlock (and BBC in general, but particularly Sherlock) has the most amazing dialogue in all of story creation.  Just the conversations give me chills.

The characters are well developed, the acting is so perfect, they are all so realistic and lovable that it hurts.

Never yet has a Sherlock episode been deprived of inspiration or story or brilliance.  Every episode is so different and new and clever.  I don't know how they do it.  As much as I love Doctor Who, it runs out of inspiration and plot all the time.  But Sherlock never gets dull.

I can't find anything negative to say about these first two episodes, except maybe a general PG13 awareness.

I would suggest you watch it, but in a way I don't want you to watch it because often people don't understand my fascination with some of the things I fascinated with, and if you are not fascinated with this then that would hurt my feelings.  

On a scale from 1 to 10, I would give the first to episodes of Sherlock, season 4, a 10. 

Special addition!
My childhood movies.  Not all of them, just the ones that hit me most and still do.
Ten points, a tackle hug and a personal high five for anyone who can name ALL these movies. (Some two pictures are from the same movies.  Don't get too confused).

I'm sure there are so many more I missed.

A Birthday Party for Blog, and A Blend of Nightmares, Bad Poetry and Coffee

Me:  *Set's a coffee cake in front of blog with one candle sticking out.*  "Happy Birthday.  Ha!  You thought I was going to say happy new year.  No, this is the anniversary of the starting of my dear Blue Box in the Basement and a Cup of Coffee.  Happy anniversary blog."

Blog:  "Thank you."

Me:  "You're welcome."

*Me and Blog and hum in polite silence, looking around the room.  Not making eye contact.*
Blog:  I was kind of hoping for a present or something.

Me:  What do you want?

Blog:  I want a really bad picture of you.

Me: .......Why?

Blog:  Because it entertains me. Come on.  For me.  It's my birthday.

Me:  What if I don't want to?  You're my blog.
Blog:  And it's my birthday.
Me:.................

*Dr. Elemis Pott explodes in obnoxious fits of coughing, cleverly distracting her readers*

2016

2016 consisted of a grayish-blueish blend of talent shows, nightmares, poor poetry, wast land, and coffee.

What I learned about my self in 2016:
1:  I'm extremely dependent.  I hate making decisions.  I hate thinking for myself.  Just because I'm obnoxious doesn't mean I'm a leader, I'm a follower.
2:  I'm a little too influenced by my imaginary character.  This is something I haven't experienced before.  Perhaps if I created a more virtuous character this wouldn't be such a problem.  But when you start walking like him and involuntarily thinking through his point of view, you know somethings a little wrong.
3:  I'm romantic.
4:  I hate acting out the parts of shallow characters.  Tell you about it in a later post.
5:  I hate romance.

I might have done a lot this year.  If I did, it didn't feel like I did anything.  I've always considered myself to be such an advanced and accomplished kid.  2016 told me otherwise.
A normal day of 2016 (minus the social everything) looks like this:

Part 1: I wake up a too late and contemplate my existence.  If I die now, I don't care.  I already feel dead.
Part 2:  My soul wakes up after a cup of coffee, an overdose NF rap, a written prayer, and a Shakespeare monologue in the shower.
Part 3:  I offend someone.
Part 4:  I feel like dirt and contemplate my existence again.
Part 5:  I want to slaughter my emotions on someone, but I'm alone.  So I slaughter a book character instead.
Part 6:  I write a really cheesy love poem that I never read again.
Part 7:  I get lost in the house and find myself a half hour later closing cupboards in the kitchen and I accidentally make myself another cup of coffee.
Part 8:  I kiss Loki...No, really.
Part 9:  I get ready for bed and end up monologuing in the bathroom for an hour.
Part 10:  I spill morbid feelings into my journal.  I write a prayer, realizing how little I thought of God this whole day.
Part 11:  I turn out the light, and I'm attached by my imagination.  It used to be a lot worse, but I'm still recovering.
Part 12:  I can stand it no longer and turn on the light.  I spend another two or three hours of the night praying.  I fall asleep with the lamp light on, and me hugging my journal.
Part 13:  And then we do the same thing all over again.

Perhaps I'm too young to be feeling like a useless pointless human being.  I should be enjoying my child hood.  But why can't I have a life?  No one said you could only start living when your 21.
I feel like a walking corps.
But I'm too scared to do the things I'm inspired to do.  Because it's embarrassing.  Have you ever told someone what you wanted to be when you grew up and they look at you like,

The expression most given to Dr. Elemis Pott during the year 2016

I had a conversation with a professional actress.  She basically told me not to be an actress.  It's been maybe-kind-of-a-rather-sort-of lazy and discouraging year.
I'm complaining too much, aren't I?
Well it's my own fault.
Let me end on a lighter note.
I've had an equal amount of great things happen this year as the less-great.  Little things, like heavy NF rap.  Like when I was shivering in the basement, and Dad appears at my door with a cup of coffee for me.  Like monologues in the shower and singing and the last line of a poem and writing the first sentence of a new book, and getting-up-at-12:00-to-talk-to-God.

Happy Birthday Blog.  Live-long-and-prosper-and-may-the-force-be-with-you-and-what-ever-else-the-other-fan-girls-are-saying-these-days.....

The Lyre: Guest Post By Dominic Deep

I lie.
It helps me think.
And I think it's very important that you know I'm a lyre, or you would find me very confusing.  Although, you'll find me very confusing any way.  It's not my fault.  I was born that way.
I was born dead.

She's in front of me.  Walking like a penguin on stilts.  Only short.  It would be entertaining to watch if I were the type to be entertained.
I can only see the back of her head, her knitted hat, but I know her face is tilted up, looking into the sky.  I better catch up with her before she runs into a lamp post.  It wouldn't be the first time.
I take wider strides, till I'm by her side.  I stay close to the side walk edge, but stiffen, feeling her too close.  Always too close.  Never close enough.
"Good morning Domino!" Her raspy, but high and happy voice chimes.
"Morning Qym."
It's the same thing every morning as I go to school and walk Qym to work.  Morning Domino.  Morning Qym.  And no other sound in the early morning but her breathing and the soft squeaking and clicking of her metal legs.
Qym lost her legs five years ago, but that's not the important thing about her.
Here's something that may come as a surprise to you.  So I'm warning you in advance.  I also want you to pay close attention to what I'm about to tell you.  Your not going to understand.  But maybe you'll salve the mystery if you look very very close.
Qym is dead.
I'm talking to a dead girl.  She doesn't know she's dead, she's still stuck in the past.
I listen to her breathing.  The very faint, squeak  of her metal knee joints bending.  Click-click  of her bent, plastic feet.  Things I hear every morning and never pay attention to.  I say goodbye to every move she makes.
It throbs in my head like a clock.  Gone.  Gone.  Gone.  Gone.
Maybe living people really are just dead people.  Maybe everyone's a ghost.  Not just me.  They're all ending up like me in the end any way.
All ending up like Savy.
We're passing the grave yard on our left.  It's small and pathetic.  A wired gate surrounds the grassy garden of stones.
I can't make myself not glance through the gate at the little flat stone.  I can just barely see it.  It's the closet one to the gate, probably not important enough to get a place in the middle, or a stone taller then the tips of the grass.
I've memorized the lable.
Selvester E Burns  2016-2029  Rest In Peace
I wish I could have written Savy a better epitaph.  No one would let me though.  He would have liked it if I wrote his epitaph.  I guess Savy and I never really discussed the subject of death until two minutes before it came.
Here's another thing you need to know that you wont understand, and I don't understand it either.  So if you don't want to read any more after you read this, I understand.  If I had to read my own life as a book, I would have stopped reading.
Here's the thing.
Savy isn't dead.
It's wrong, I know.  It's been wrong from the beginning.  For one thing, I can't be dead.  It's obvious because you've just witnessed me walking and talking.  Qym also cannot be dead, for the same reason why I can't be dead.  And lastly, Savy can't be alive because...Well...He is dead.
I'm starting from the beginning.  I'm going to sum all this up in a few sentences.
My name is Domino.
I don't exist.
And that's how I broke reality.

Cat's, Whales, and Alligators

The following dialogue twas recorded from a true event.  More like, many true event's all compiled into one.

"So, Dr. Elemis, what's your favorite animal?"

"Cats."

"What?  You like cats?  What's so great about a cat?  Cat's are evil!  All they care about is sleeping and tarring you apart!  I once heard of a cat that almost murdered a child!  All cat's deserve to be burned in hell!"

"But that's what makes them so fantastic."

I normally don't like answering the 'what's your favorite animal question' because it makes me feel like a five year old.

So next up, an entire blog post on my favorite animals!

Weeeeee!!!!

Cats.

Perhaps they match my personality.  We have much in common I suppose.  (Small, hairy, stuck up, skittish, takes little matters too seriously, etc.)

"How could you like cats?  Cats are evil!"

Oh course they're evil!  That's what makes them so complete!  Imagine what Loki would be like if he weren't evil!  He would be bland, boring, and unreal.  But his evilness adds to his spunk, his cuteness, and his soul.

Thus if a cat were sweet and perfect, they would be a thousand times less wonderful.

"Dogs care about people.  Cat's don't care about people."

Yes, dogs can save your life, and cats normally can't.  But I haven't been in a lot of life threatening situations (Except that time Squimp and I were trying to be ninjas and we landed on our heads on the tile floor...)

...What was I talking about again?

Oh yes.

I haven't been in a lot of life threatening situations.  But I have been depressed.  There's not a lot you can do to comfort yourself when your depressed I've found out, and company is usually scarce.

I don't know what it is with cats, but they always know when I'm sad.  Maybe God whispers in their ears, "Go jump her lap.  She'll like that ." 

And they do.  It's so comforting.  Once I went through a rather scary time, and in the same moment my one dear orange kitty (Mulligan) ran away, never to return.  I've found out that cat's add much to the comforts of life.

A while later,  I was in the animal shelter, surrounded by cute fluffy kittens.  All with large eyes and little paws like tinny pom-poms. Mewing and cocking they're heads in casual, kitten manner.

But I could look passed this cuteness, because I was rather distracted by a different cat.

He was gray, small and weeny, but larger then a kitten.  He extended his little arms as far out the bars as they could go, toes separated, claws extended, and he screamed at me.  The room was filled with his pitiful mews like sirens. The little fluffy kitten below his cage gave me a sweet little mew, but the loud one over head reached down from the bars and smacked him in the face.

Hes perfect.

I scratched his soft gray face, and he purred like a lawn mower.

I melted.

Purring is my dope.

We named him Loki.
I once heard that cat people are the lonely, unsocial, single, geeks with no lives....
I wouldn't say I fit that description really...
But who cares any way??
There's a reason lonely, unsocial, single, geeks with no lives like cats!  Because cat's are medicine for loneliness!  That doesn't mean they'll cure you, but they help a great deal!

My next favorite animal:

Alligators.

I don't know why they're so special.  Maybe because I used to be scared of them...Which made me love them more...It's logic. You wouldn't understand.

I think it started with the book, 'An Alligator Ate My Brother" that I would always get at the library at Alabama when I was about 3.  Twas a thrilling book about an alligator what got into the house, and none of his family believed him when he said there was an alligator in the house.  Then the alligator ate his toys.  And his little brother.  So the kid jumped from his bed onto the alligator's back, causing the alligator the vomit back all his toys.  And his little brother.

I haven't found that book sense I was 3, but ah!  I can see those illustrations like it was yesterday!  The kid with his determined sneer, his knees tucked up for a canon ball, and the alligator with his eyes bulging out of his face and a confetti of toys exploding from his wide open jaws!
So any way, that sprung my love of alligators.
And it spread.
A boring movie would automatically become exciting as soon as an alligator appears!
I created Puddle the Alligator for a kids book I wrote.  My main character was Cricket Betel Bug (the little girl) and her pet was Puddle. (The alligator). And he was so cute and fat and loving and loyal and gray and melancholy, just what my dream pet alligator ought to be!

My next favorite animal:
Whales.
Whales!!!!
When I think fantastic and beautiful and aw striking, I think whales.
And you're thinking of the little chubby cartoon painting on your dentists wall.
Look at this.

It's.  Huge.
Looks at this:

It gives me chills.  Goosebumps.  Imagine sitting in your little boat, fishing, out on a the flat open ocean.  It's quiet.  The sea is black.  You can't see under it, only the sun reflecting off the waves.  But you're right on top of a huge, endless world of water.  Your on the roof of a world of creates you may not even know exist.
Then BOOM!
THOSE explode from the water!
Look back at that picture.
Feel small?
I like the feeling.  I like fantastic, scary things that makes your skin crawl, makes you feel like a little helpless morsel on a big ride.
I love all whales.  The largest ones are the best, but then you get these guys:

It's like an underwater panda!  Sure, they're dangerous, but they're also extremely cute.  

I live in the mountains, and have never really experienced a lot of ocean.  Maybe that's what sparks my interest of it, and the creatures in it so much.  It's mystical.  Alien.  Dangerous.  Beautiful.
What do you think of when you think God?
He's great and powerful and created the heavens and the earth and yata yata yata...
Sometimes when I think God, I think something wimpy like:

But I should think of the most fantastic, huge, magnificent thing I know that makes me feel small.  Like the ocean.  And whales.  And the universe.
I should have that same feeling when I think of God.

What's your favorite animal?

Next Up On Critical Me: Doctor Strange, Scarlet, and Tarzan

Doctor Strange:

Doctor Strange is about a guy named Stephen Strange, a brilliant neurosurgeon.  But after an accident, he is left with a shaky-hand problem (for lack of a more intellectual scientific name for it).
He is unable to be a surgeon any more, and is left feeling a lack of purpose.  He hears about the magical people of what-ever-they-are-called, and joins them in order to get his hands healed.  As he is being trained in the ways of the magical-what-ever-they-are-called, he is approached with much larger problems then his hands, and ends up fighting an invisible battle apart from the real world.
I very much enjoyed Doctor Strange, and was worth watching in theaters.  The acting was good.  I mean, Benedict Cumberbatch.  Everyone else was as good as american actors can get.  But Benedict Cumberbatch. 💗
Character development was fairly good.  Main characters were lovable.
Dialogue was so-so.  Some cheesy Marvel liners, which is typical.
I loved the story, and the cleverness of it that branched off from the Marvel norm.   More focused on theme and emotion then on breaking-down-building scenes, which I thought was lovely.
Villain was dumb.  Unmemorable.  With any normal villain qualities and goals.  Probably the worst part of the movie.
I rarely enjoy romance.  But I thought the slight romance in Doctor Strange was sweet and well done.
Although Doctor Strange and the creators of Marvel are clearly not Christian, I found it lovely that they added some Christian elements.  Or perhaps that was just me.  I like to find Christian elements in things that weren't intended to be.  See if you catch what I'm talking about if you choose to watch the movie.
On a scale from 1 to 10, I would give Doctor Strange a 8 1/2.  
(PG13 WARNING!  For some cussing, head loping, violence and surgery scenes.  Maybe a couple inappropriate references.  Certainly much less gruesome then many other Marvel movies.)

Scarlet (the Lunar Chronicles)

Scarlet is based on the Little Red Ridding Hood story.  Scarlet's Grandmother is suddenly missing, and Scarlet is determined to find her.  She meets with a street fighter, Woolf, who assists her in the finding of her Grandmother.  On their journey, Scarlet learns just exactly who Woolf really is, and her Grandmother.  This book also continues on the story from the previous book, Cinder.  Cinder, after being imprisoned, runs into Thorn, a fellow prisoner.  They help each other escape, and begin life as refugees.

I enjoyed Scarlet.  Full of action, suspense, and kept me turning the pages.  The writing was very well done, I'd give a special complement on the descriptions.

I loved Cinder, Thorn, and Iko, and  the characters from the past book are much more lovable in Scarlet.  I didn't like the main character of this particular book, but was developed well enough. 

Story and plot well developed.  Although based on fairy tales, has it's own story.  Villain's plot is pretty cliche', but the character herself is becoming more and more likable in the hateful sort of villain-y way.

Some good liners, but I wasn't a huge fan of the dialogue.  Definitely had it's good moments though, I just wish it was continued through the whole book.

Romance was slightly disturbing.

But over all, I really enjoyed this book, being an action and emotion junkie. I also enjoyed it better then Cinder, although I'm liking Cinder's story more through Scarlet's book.  I'm excited to read the next book.

On a scale from 1 to 10, I would give Scarlet a 6.

(WARNING!  Some inappropriate references, and some very slight cussing, and violence.)

Tarzan:

 Tarzan was about...Well...Usual Tarzan stuff.  A shirtless orphan adopted by gorillas.  This was the first version of Tarzan I've seen, so I'm not sure how much of the story was changed.  So I'll spare you the story and move on;

I liked it.  I didn't love it, but I liked it.  Again, I love action.  Had some pretty cool action scenes. 

Dialogue was actually pretty good.  Some dumb humor, but when they weren't trying to be funny, it was good.

Acting was also well done, minus the fact that most of the characters were having a really hard time keeping there american accent steady.  I imagine they were all British.  Well done.  Couldn't hold an accent though.

Characters were likable.

I'd say that Tarzan was good entertainment for one night, but I'm not sure I'd watch it again unless I had to.

On a scale from 1 to 10, I'd give Tarzan a 5.

(WARNING!...Pretty much all of the above.  You get it).

The Moon Told Me A Secret

The Moon told me a secret.

It whispered through the trees.

Just between me and the Moon, 

And the hushing of the breeze.

The stars are lockets of memories,

Holding fast to time.

Time for you to look to the sky,

For this twinkling of a rime.

Where the dark ones are,

The stars will be there too.

Breaking through the darkness,

Unlocking time for you.

In The Wings

Last night I lay awake with a terrible, twisting feeling that ripped my guts to shreds.

What if this play I'm in, Pride and Prejudice, is the last play I'll ever be in?  

I've always had this notion that, of course, I would be in other plays.  Like how we think we always have another day to live.

But what if we don't?

It hit like a bullet, straight to the most sacred parts of my soul.

Like a flash back, I starting seeing my last plays.

All of the sudden I'm back in my Shakespeare play.  We only had one week to pull off a professional performance of As You Like It.  But it felt like a whole life time.

The stage is light up in a dim blue light.  The actors on stage are trembling through their words, and the audience is still.  I'm in the shadows, watching, waiting to enter.  That black curtain and newly painted stage and clusters of props, like a little boys toy box, I've never felt so at home.  I don't want to go.  Right here, in the shadows, I feel purposeful.  Like that feeling I got when we found our house in the mountains, I've finally come home.

Once one comes back from an experience like that, life just feels like mud.  I had a repeat of that experience after I came back from a writing camp. 

But what if it was all just a fluffy feeling?  That acting is all fluff and fun, and there's no point or depth to it?  It's all pretend any way. 

It's easy to hear about a missionary who made a difference in peoples lives, but rarely will you ever here about an actor who made a difference in peoples lives.

I exist to serve God and help people.  And he's given me a passion for acting.  Now what?

My mind went back to another play.

I'm in Our Town again.

I'm the stage manager, so I'm supposed to introduce the play and set the scene.  The feeling for the play.  A dry humored, somber, real kind of feeling.

But we're all a bunch of high school/middle schoolers, and half of us have never even been in a play before.

I sit on the chair, behind the curtain.  The spot light shines through, giving it a red glow.  It looks like Christmas.  Squimp is the only other person on stage, waiting in the corner to pull back the curtains.  I listen to the voices in the audience talk, and I try to recognize some of the voices.  My legs are numb.  My hands can't stay still.  I've forgotten how to breathe.

I've been praying about this play for a long time time.  Gods given me a part, he's given me these few words to say, and I want to make the most of it.  I want them to walk out of this auditorium like I did when I first saw this play.  Changed. 

So I pray again, behind that curtain, a few seconds before the light went down and the curtains drew back.

The stage light is blinding.  The audience below are darkened and disappear as the rows go back, like smoke.

I'm not me any more, I'm the narrator and I don't know anyone in the audience and they don't know me.  I dust a few chairs off and make then look straighter, and I smile with satisfaction, looking into the audience.  All at once, they giggle.

I did it.  I've caught my audience.  

I've hooked there attention and they're interest, and they giggle although I've done nothing very interesting or funny.  

"This play is called Our Town." I said.

I say many speeches throughout the play, and more then likely they wanted me to stop talking and move on to the actual story.  I'm not even a technical character in the play.  But they look at me.  They leaned forward.  They laugh.  They nod.  And not everyone in the audience was attentive to the dull things I was saying, but for those few people who were, it was all worth it.

I've gotten people I've never even seen before come up to me with they're thumbs in their pockets like I did on stage and say, "This play is called Our Town."

And it wasn't just me.  It was our whole cast.  The audience talked about how they loved the characters, and how it effected them, and cried when Squimp started singing, or Emily enters through the crowd, or George kneels by his wife's grave.  Simple things.

I've been in many plays.

But the Shakespeare play changed my life.

And Our Town also changed my life, and gave me the opportunity to share the change with others.

So I go back to the question, is acting really worth it?  Or if this is my last play, was acting really worth it?

Yes.

Does God want me to continue acting?  That's up to him.  I have absolutely no clue.

If I die today or tomorrow, I think people would think I was a simple person.  She didn't do much.  She just sort of, existed.  But maybe they'll remember my simple things, like, "This play is called Our Town."

"Machines never come with nay extra parts.  They come with the exact amount they need. so I figured out, if the world is one big machine, I couldn't be an extra part.  I had to be here for some reason."

-Hugo