If you missed the “premiere” on Thursday, now might be a good time to watch my second-attempt at making a German movie. Both parts are embedded below. Enjoy. And please, anything you have to say to me, say it AFTER you’ve watched both segments.

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… and here’s part two.

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And if you’re interested in seeing the German version and testing out your German skills, here’s the same thing, but with subtitles only in German.

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… and here’s part two in German.

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And if you’re curious, or just feeling nostalgic, here’s also the first German “movie” I made in first year in England with Erin and Rachael. It’s a pretty horrible tale of a beautiful adventurous princess who is locked up by an evil but insecure witch and not-really-rescued by a stuck-up prince.

Prinzessin Snowinderpuniel (cannot be embedded, but this link works).

Today The Castle is operated by Betsey Mills Corporation and is dedicated to the education of the public regarding Marietta history as well as life in Victorian times. Tours of The Castle are given on a daily basis whenever visitors happen to arrive. The guides are very knowledgeable of the history of The Castle and share a lot of humorous stories that make the visit extra enjoyable. If you enjoy life in Victorian times, perhaps this glimpse inside will make you eager to visit there yourself.

Beginning in the Carriage House, which now serves as the Visitors’ Center, a video explains a brief history of the people who have resided at The Castle. Back in 1855, Melvin Clarke paid $2000 for two empty lots where the house was to be built. Ownership by prominent and influential citizens has changed quite often over the years from original owner/builder, who was an attorney and first city solicitor, and continuing with the person who established the Bank of Marietta,  the owner of Marietta Gazette, and even an Ohio State Senator.

Since taking pictures inside was not permitted, decided to buy a couple postcards of my favorite rooms. Walking in the front door, the spirit of Victorian Christmas surrounded you with beautiful poinsettias, decorated trees, and Victorian figurines and dolls. The first thing to catch my eye was the pump organ from Stevens Organ and Piano Company. Music was an important part of Victorian times, and there were two more pianos in their parlors, as well as an Edison music box from 1892, which played the cylinder records of hard black wax. The song, “Echo All Over the World,” was on display in its original case from Edison Gold Moulded Records.

Another item of special interest was a hat rack just inside the front entrance. Not only was there a place to hang your hat, but also a beautiful mirror to make certain your hair was perfectly in place…’hat hair’ would not be acceptable! The plate for calling cards still held those of people who had visited the house many years ago.

In the library, Captain William Holden had what they called the ‘first lap-top’ where he kept all his important paperwork and records. This was also the place, right next to the sitting room, where adults read while the younger ladies were having gentlemen callers. Even though their chairs were separated by a table, some of the elders in the family watched and listened carefully. The chairs themselves were intriguing as they sat very low to the floor so there was no possibility of a lady’s ankles showing, an act of disgrace during Victorian times.

Fascinating also were the items made of human hair. If a young lady or gentleman wanted to keep a remembrance of their special person close to them, they would weave their hair into a special design. Some were braided, then used in place of a watch chain to attach a pocket watch to the jacket, while others were intricately designed necklaces and broaches. All were quite beautiful.

All furnishings in The Castle were either original Victorian items, which had actually been used in the home, or furnishings from other Marietta homes of that time. Wood trim and doors were made of red oak downstairs where guests would be entertained, but upstairs were made of pine as only the family would be upstairs. According to the guide, one beautifully designed wall shelf had originally held a collection of Captain William Holden’s, who they called the original Spiderman. Captain Holden had collected 3,000 different spiders and actually kept them on display.

In the 1890′s, a water closet was built to include indoor bathroom facilities. This was originally upstairs only and could only be used by family members, while servants had to use the outdoor privy. Guests were not permitted upstairs so if they had been there long enough to need to use the bathroom, perhaps it was time for them to go home. Goodbye for now my friends!

If you want to hear more fascinating stories of The Castle, take a trip to Marietta on I-77 and use Exit 1 to Route 7 South.  Turn right on Fourth Street and The Castle is located on the hill at 418 Fourth Street. There is a handicap entrance in the rear with limited parking.

More than anything else, the psycho-lingual process of transformation of words into wordless emptiness (the final journey in silence/The Kafka’s Quest) or the archetypal process of existential salvation and the ying-yang binary fixations of stasis in action, are not the main key drivers in the narrative. In reality, the story leads us to understand the nature of man, his utter follies, misconceptions, the idiosyncratic class idioms that phrase his physical economic world and social status and his fragile and fake behavioural words that translate the tragedy of modern man’s degenerative metamorphosis into an insect or vermin.

When the others tick tock like the clock in the cupboard    

in between the books and the wall,

he is sleeping

he is dreaming

to become an insect with no trail

so he doesn’t have to take the burden

of the whole community

because they have ex communicated him

he is an outsider

a stranger without words

but with a single gaze in a dream

an insect dreams for its next cycle of life

to see that light in the salivating sun

pouring empty chains on stones, clothes and eternity    

Kafka not bearing his name, young and silent

in the shadows of the castle

after the trial

knocks the doors of the All absolute

a love that was not there pushed him towards the door knob

a love like light called him from inside

from a point to another point

he was frightened

His body shivered,

His body became numb motionless,

teleporting with that immaculate star of the compassionate one

he once stood there, still like the sky overseeing all

or like a glass watching the world from its inner own

writing the diary of the critique of man

as he crawled then, to sit on the other branches of the tree

Sri Aurobindo: 5th Dec, Maha-Samadhi Day

his body once again like an ancient man felt that love beating deep inside…

as he understood that ” All shall discover God in self and things…”

and knew that “he too must carry the yoke he came to unloose;

he too must bear the pang that he would heal…”. (Savitri, Sri Aurobindo)

The fake identity of man must pass through the shredder before a final copy can be made natural and having resemblance with the original. And there is no original oneness in things, all are many and different in many ways of their own but still persist the process of the final consummation with the Divine Body or the Radiance which is the final destiny of his quest.

Beatles, in the earlier albums talked about this fragile inconsistency in man, in his ways of life and in his mannerisms.

“I read the news today oh, boy

Beatles: MONEY CAN’T BUY ME LOVE

About a lucky man who made the grade

And though the news was rather sad

Well, I just had to laugh

I saw the photograph
He blew his mind out in a car
He didn’t notice that the lights had changed
A crowd of people stood and stared
They’d seen his face before
Nobody was really sure if he was from the house of lords…(A Day in the Life, The Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Beatles)

That life is more than your next hit song in the charts, or more, than your gross income from the concerts you do, is something that George Harrison probably had felt when he took a sabbatical to realize what was awaiting him, in the natural enclosure at Mayapur, India. That was an enchanting song which he penned in the November of 1970 directly expressing his prayers for the world, to Lord Krishna, to the Hallelujah – to that great ‘fidelity in freedom’ of  the compassionate one in the rock n’ roll of life, in the folk of life and in the many operas of life.

“My sweet Lord
Hmm, my Lord
Hmm, my Lord
I really want to see you
Really want to be with you
Really want to see you, Lord, but it takes so long, my Lord …” (My Sweet Lord, Album: All Things Must Pass, George Harrison)

THE LORD IS ALWAYS SERVING THE WORLD : “Dehi padapallava-udaram” – “Krishna bows down to touch the lotus feet of Srimati Radharani”. (Gita Govinda, Jayadeva) – this line as everyone knows was written by the Lord Krishna himself in the guise of the poet who went to take his bath thinking about how he would cope to write this verse which he was musing for quiet sometime. Amazingly, he understood upon return, that the Lord himself came as him, wrote the verse and took prasad/offering from his wife who thought that the poet hasn’t gone out at all.

Krishna Washing Radha’s Feet

Photo via The Caucus.

When I decided to be a part of the Kasteel Well program, I realized that would also mean the first time I voted in a presidential election would be overseas. But other than discussing the candidates with my friends and filling out my absentee ballot, I didn’t expect to hear much about the election.

It turns out that in many European countries, the people there were very invested in the America’s 2012 elections; some of the people I met were even more passionate about it than me. The first I heard of this was in my Intercultural Communication class, when my professor, Chester Lee, talked about how American foreign policy has an impact on Europe that many voters don’t think about. From that point until November 6th, and even after, the question of Obama versus Romney came up in more situations than I had expected to see in Europe.

On November 1st, the Office of Student Affairs at the castle ran an open forum on the presidential elections. Professor Dr. Evert van der Zweerde of Radboud University in Nijmegen, Netherlands came to facilitate the discussion. What I found most interesting was not his presentation or his theories about US politics, but how passionate the castle professors were when it came time to discuss and debate. In particular, the idea that Europeans should have a say in the US elections incited an intense discussion. “The USA is still the world’s largest power, affecting the life of people everywhere on the planet,” van der Zweerde explained. Later, Lee, the Intercultural Communications professor, added, “We all talk about this. But inside America I don’t think you have any idea [how this affects us]. This is not a domestic issue.”

I was in Monterosso al Mare, Italy a few days later when the election occurred.  We had no access to internet or television in this town, so one of my traveling companions’ mothers texted us the election results. Satisfied that Obama would be in office another four years, we continued on with our day. Later on, when hiking a local trail, I was approached by an older Italian couple.

“Are you American?” the man asked me. “Yes,” I replied. “Do you know who your new president is?” was the next question. “Yes, it’s Obama,” I told him. “Is that good?” He gave me a smile. I was a little surprised that the only thing he wanted to know was if Obama or Romney had won. The topic came up a few more times throughout the day when Italians we met asked who we had voted for or if we were happy had Obama won.

A few weeks later I had the opportunity to visit a Dutch high school. By this point I was very curious if younger people also cared about the American president. The students I spoke to very much did. One girl, Shelley, explained that Romney did not care about the world economy and he would have been very bad for Europe. She confirmed what I had been hearing throughout my time at the castle: Obama was good, Romney was bad, and Europeans had been far more worried about the election results than some Americans I know.

We had verse, song, and even a bit of opera. We also raised a little bit of cash for Manchester Peace Festival which was a lovely bonus. We’ll have pictures in our next blog post.

Join us on 17th January 2013 at our new home in the Northern Quarter: The Castle Hotel, Oldham St., Northern Quarter. We’ll be there once a month, every third Thursday, for acoustic poetry, music, performance and spoken word.

  It’s been pretty F&^%king wild lately. And red keeps coming up. Happy Holidays!

To celebrate, we’ve put together an incredible line-up featuring some of our personal highlights of the year. Rodge Glass performed at our open mic early 2012, reading from his novel ‘Bring me the Head of Ryan Giggs’, we helped him launch it in April at the first of our Waterstones events. He’ll be performing alongside writer Anneliese Mackintosh who recently featured at our stage at the Carefully Planned All-Dayer in October. At the same performance where we first saw Rodge, our headliner was the rather fantastic Socrates Adams who will also be appearing. He read from his debut novel (longlisted for the Not the Booker award) ‘Everything’s Fine’. This year he has seen that book released across the pond, and has starred in award winning film ‘Wizard’s Way’. Our final personal highlight is the incredible Claire Massey who launched two chapbooks through publisher Nightjar Press with us earlier in the year. She has been hard at work with Lancaster Litfest and her haunting prose is not something to miss.
But it wouldn’t be Bad Language without some amazing open-mic performers. Alongside all of Bad Language performing, there will be performances from:

Sian Rathore

Clare Conlon

Matthew P Lomas

Ste Price

Claire Symonds

Everything kicks off at 7:30 at The Castle Hotel on Oldham Street. It’s free entry, so get there early to grab a seat. Bring balloons.

the castle

While most visitors to Guernsey State Park come to fish, camp and explore, at this park near Guernsey, Wyo., they will find several high-quality examples of historic Civilian Conservation Corps architecture. These structures, made of local sandstone with hand-forged iron and hand-hewn logs, were built during the Depression of the 1930s as part of efforts by President Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Congress to put people back to work and preserve America’s natural resources.

Brimmer Point, the Castle and the Guernsey Museum offer excellent views of the park as well as opportunities for close-up looks at the fine craftsmanship of the CCC buildings, known for reflecting the natural beauty that surrounds them.

The museum, on a high cliff overlooking the water, boasts a roof of hand-split cedar shakes and a floor of smooth flagstones. The Castle, with its giant fireplace and winding steps, leads to an observation area with a great view of the park and reservoir.  gu

cited:  http://www.wyohistory.org/encyclopedia/guernsey-state-park

Congratulations to Morgen Montgomery ’15, winner of the Nobles/Milton Instagram Challenge! In honor of this year’s Nobles/Milton Weekend, the Graduate Affairs Office invited the Nobles community to share photos “that capture the spirit and tradition of the rivalry.” Morgen’s photo was chosen from more than 100 entries; to see the finalists’ photos, visit the Nobles Grads Facebook Page.

Do you have a great idea for our next Instagram contest? Email greg_croak@nobles.edu with your Nobles-inspired challenge.

I’ve wanted to curate a performance series for over a year now. My requirements? Performers from multiple disciplines, so that the audience isn’t sitting through 90 minutes of one thing. Or even an hour. At least some kind of visual art element (preferably one that can be easily purchased). Beer and wine, because shows are more fun that way.

When my singer/songwriter friend Kristen Graves told me she was coming to town– and then wondered if we’d offer up our house for a concert– I figured it would be a fun way to hear Kristen, as well as motivation to unpack any remaining boxes from our move.  Then I decided to invite a couple more folks to perform: my friend Brad Liening, who writes poetry about celebrities (among other things). And choreographer Emily Gastineau, who does a lot of living room dance performances (modern/post-modern dance). There will be visual art showing on the first floor of the duplex, too.

So, November 30: Ben and I will bring the beer and wine, you bring some money for the performers and sit in our living room. I’ll be posting more little updates about the artists and what to expect. If you live in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area and want to come, drop me a line at mildlyminnesotan@gmail.com.

A couple of years ago, when I was living in Scotland for the summer, I had the privilege of having a man named Don Snyder caddie for me at The Castle Course. It was one of the most incongruent moments of my life because Snyder is an author of some acclaim having written, most notably I guess, the novel Fallen Angel and the subsequent TV movie that starred Gary Sinise.

There I was at that moment writing a piece for Golf.com and developing In The Burn, the book featured on this website’s right-hand column. And the man serving as my assistant, i.e. my caddie, had already accomplished the things I was hoping to achieve. It put me at a bit of a loss. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

I mostly put the situation out of my mind. I continued to see Snyder around town and visit with him occasionally. But his presence sort of made me feel superfluous in what I was trying to accomplish, so maybe I didn’t become as good of friends with him as I could have.

Nonetheless, something he told me came to mind this week. We were playing one particular hole on the back nine at The Castle. The fairway sloped from right to left and the farther left you strayed, the more difficult the shots became. So Snyder stressed that I should fight for the right side of the fairway.

I mean he really stressed it. To the point that it was sort of off-putting. Internally, I was kind of like “OK, I get it. Stay to the right. How dense do you think I am?” Inevitably, though, my execution fell short of my understanding and I didn’t stay as far right as needed.

The reason this came back to me recently is that sometimes it’s hardest to do what seems the most necessary and the most straight forward. I’ve noticed or re-noticed or finally just learned or, well, I’m not sure how to categorize it, but the point is it’s difficult to maintain a good attitude. And I think maybe the good attitude (the right side of the fairway in this metaphor) is necessary to make possible the approach to the green (general peace and joy). So you really have to fight for a good attitude. The middle of the fairway (establishing your attitude according to life’s events) won’t get it done. You have to be committed to the right side.

Incidentally, I was having lunch downtown with my friend Jeremy on Monday, which was Veterans Day. To our surprise, our town actually has an extensive Veterans Day parade. So we were watching the parade out of the window of the sandwich shop where we were eating when Jeremy commented that there wasn’t much cynical you could say about a parade. I replied that I had already thought of something and thought better of saying it. He laughed and I revealed that I thought if you were to explain a parade to someone from another planet, you’d have to say something like, “It’s when people line up on the side of the street and watch other people walk down the street.”

See what I mean? I’m naturally pretty cynical. So I really need to fight for that right side of the fairway.

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Follow The Live Ball on Twitter @live_ball.

In the evening I went out to the Film Guild where I saw a movie called Devil’s Nightmare, a 1971 Belgian and Italian horror movie in which seven tourists (each representing one of the seven deadly sins) spend the night in a creepy castle where they are attacked one by one by a succubus. It was really bad and so inept it was actually quite hilarious.

Today I went out to look at Kindle Fires and bought the new Iris DeMent CD Sing the Delta.

What I find myself wondering today is when does the bullying end? Indeed, does it ever end for some of us?

patti dawn swansson

As much as we tend to view bullying as strictly an issue of youth, it isn’t.

Bullying is without age-related boundaries or borders. Bullying doesn’t recognize or acknowledge that there will be 62 candles on my next birthday cake toward the end of this very month (gifts are optional, money is preferred).

I have been bullied on numerous occasions in the past half dozen years. Just as I was bullied on numerous occasions during my childhood and teenage years.

There are, of course, limitless reasons for being bullied. Perhaps you walk funny. Perhaps you talk funny. Perhaps you can only afford to wear hand-me-down clothing or thrift store attire. Perhaps you are shy, timid and tiny, like I was in my youth. Perhaps you are gay.

Gay men, lesbians and the transgender are forever being bullied, both physically and emotionally. They are taunted, harassed, demeaned, ridiculed, beaten up, driven into poverty…you name it, they’ve experienced it.

What, however, are we to make of it when it is the gays who do the bullying?

I’ve spent a great many hours of my time, both at leisure and at labor, in Victoria’s LGBT community since 2007 and I’ve met many loving, caring, supportive people. My best male friends are gay.

But let me tell you, the LGBT community can very much be a bully pit.

Call it my naivete if you like, but this is something I hadn’t anticipated when I began my male-to-female transition in 2008. I truly believed that the gay community was a sanctuary, a safe haven from the element of society that preys on people who are brave enough to be themselves.

Wrong.

Here is a small sampling of what I have experienced:

• I was told that I shouldn’t be allowed to sit at the bar because I was not a gay male.

“This is where the boys sit,” a patron advised me. “You should respect that and sit somewhere else.”

That’s bullying.

• I have heard men stand up in a gay bar and declare “Women shouldn’t be allowed in here,” when I was the only female in the room.

That’s bullying.

• I twice was threatened with physical harm, once by a drag queen and once by a drag king.

That’s bullying.

• One patron repeatedly uses the male pronouns “he, him, his” when talking about me. And he has called me Patrick.

That’s bullying.

• I wrote a very positive article about the three gay nightclubs in Victoria for Monday Magazine, and a gay man who regularly attends those very clubs challenged my standing as a member of the gay community. He demanded to know why a “straight woman” was writing about the LGBT community.

That’s bullying.

(Quick aside: How this fellow determined I am a straight woman remains a mystery. I wouldn’t share my bed with a man if Brad Pitt walked into my boudoir.)

• I have been harassed and taunted by (now former) employees of a gay club. My depression has been traced back to the treatment from those fellows.

That’s bullying.

• A patron walked by my table one day and said, “You’re ugly.”

That’s bullying.

• One former employee spread false gossip about me.

That’s bullying.

All of this in the gay community, yet I can attend a mainstream watering hole, where the staff and all the regulars know I’m a transgender female, and I am never bullied.

Does that make sense to you? I didn’t think so.

As much as I believe we should protect our gay youth from bullying, it’s time gay adults stopped bullying gay adults. I mean, how can we protect our gay youth from bullying when the adults can’t protect themselves from it?

It would be special and refreshing if all three of Victoria’s gay venues—Paparazzi Show/Nightclub, The Ledge and The Castle—formed a unified front and created a community-awareness campaign against bullying. All bullying.

Do it with theme night fundraisers. Do it with awareness posters and literature. Bring it to the forefront of the community. And do it together.

So, who wants to step up and be a leader? 

This afternoon, the Outdoor Adventure program took their gear to the Castle, where they rappelled down the field-facing wall. With the exception of last year (due to construction), students have tackled this campus tradition every year for the past 20 years.

“Battles that last five minutes spawn legends that live a thousand years.” - Stephen King, The Dark Tower

About two weeks ago I woke up and felt the soft pulse of restless frustration I’d been feeling every day for a few months. Today I’ll write at least five pages, I promised myself.

Five pages may seem like nothing to most people reading this, unless of course they’ve ever tried to seriously write a novel. It’s strange how just about anything can become terrifying simply because you’ve decided to take it seriously. A lot can happen in five pages. The world can end in five pages. Hell, it could end in less than one.

Writing, to me, is about discipline and perseverance. I can find dozens of excuses on any given day to justify why I didn’t write one sentence, couldn’t write a single word. Excuses are easy to find. Motivations on the other hand, are sly beasts. I used to obsess about every sentence, every line, every damned character twitch in my stories. It got to the point where writing a short story took me months. It was maddening. It was a form of OCD so developed that I could hardly put pen to paper for fear of the process that would follow.

Then I read a quote by Iain Banks which allowed me to take a step back and breathe. Of course what he said seems obvious now, but things feel very complicated when you’re intimately close to them.

“Writing is like everything else: the more you do it the better you get. Don’t try to perfect as you go along, just get to the end of the damn thing. Accept imperfections. Get it finished and then you can go back. If you try to polish every sentence there’s a chance you’ll never get past the first chapter.”- Iain Banks.

So following this advice I’m finally making progress on something that should have been completed two years ago.

What struck me recently is how applicable this advice is to playing vertical shooters or shmups, as they’re also known.  Not all of the quote of course, but the feel of it. It’s the same as the first time I read the sentence “Don’t be afraid to use your bombs regularly” in a review of Mahou Daisukusen by Malc. Until reading that I’d ben hoarding bombs as if they were the entire point of the games.

Shmups have become my personal form of martial arts, my Mount Wudang if you will, with Cave as my shifu. Martial arts instill discipline in one’s mind through physical and mental exertion and concentration. You need that discipline and balance in order to gain a bit more control of your life. I know this because I watch about 110 kung fu movies every week! Don’t argue!

Together with renewed motivation in writing I have taken my first steps towards one credit clearing my first Cave shooter. It seems an impossible task right now to be honest and I’m filled with doubt as to whether I can even do it. I haven’t played a lot of shmups in my life but they’ve always held a special place in my heart. I’m 30 years old and this in itself seem to be a bit too late (if I listen to all the younger gamers out there).

The thing is that vertical shooters take dedication and discipline. You will not beat a shmup on your first attempt if you aren’t familiar with the genre. Fact.

You may wonder why I chose Cave as the mountain I must climb. The answer is simple. I played Dodonpachi at a friends house once upon a time and it blew me away, quite literally. Since then I’ve had an eye on the company and follow their works keenly. I’m not a Cave elitist though. I’m a huge fan of G.Rev, Treasure, Raizing and a lot of other companies too.

“The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.” – Confucius, Confucius: The Analects

It’s while playing shmups that it started to dawn on me how many similarities there are between the quest to 1CC a shmup and the quest to write something with substance. That realisation is what lead to the creation of this blog. It is here where I plan to document my struggles and triumphs. So to start it all of I thought I’d talk about some novels and how they resonate with my shmup experiences.

There are three literary characters I love which come to mind immediately when I think about explaining this journey. Roland Deschain, Alonso Quijano and K; from The Dark Tower, Don Quixote and The Castle respectively. 

These characters have one thing in common, they’re all entwined in seemingly impossible quests. There is something they feel they must do no matter what the cost. Other people might think they are insane, and perhaps they are, but that is of little consequence. They continue onwards, ever onwards.

“Willpower and dedication are good words. There’s a bad one, though, that means the same thing. That one is obsession.”- Stephen King, The Dark Tower

In Stephen King’s series we follow Roland Deschain of Gillead, the last gunslinger, on a perilous path towards the titular Dark Tower. He has been questing for hundreds of years and has lost and sacrificed countless people on the way. He is the solitary anti-hero with unmatched, almost mythical, skills. That’s how I feel when I play games like Dodonpachi, Battle Garegga or Ketsui. I feel like I’m the gunslinger, standing alone against insurmountable odds. I could give up my quest and live out my days in peace but I will not, can not. There is no one else who will stand against the threat now before me. Failure is not an option.

“By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired.”- Franz Kafka

Facing those hellish patterns makes me feel like a hero! I’m just a normal guy who sucks at these games in general and dies all the time during the second stage of Ketsui, but I believe that I can do it! 

It is this insane and deluded belief that is mirrored by the character of Alonso Quijano in Don Quixote, by Miguel de Cervantes. The aging retiree has read so many novels about heroism that he starts to believe in them as fact. He adopts the name of Don Quixote and sets out to revive chivalry and become a knight. In his distorted mind, every day inn’s are castles, cloaked monks are enchanters and windmills stand as terrible giants! 

Is this not what I have done in adopting a gamers nickname? Not many people I know play games under their own names. Everyone picks a name they like, something personal for the most part. They strike out under these monikers every day and do battle in fantastical worlds! We are a horde of Don Quixote’s out to become knights of the modern age.

The world of knights is part of a dead and archaic world of course. The world we live in is that of McDonalds and Starbucks, not dragons and honour. Many people do not see the excitement of that forgotten age. The same can be said for shmups. I’ve met countless people who look down on the genre. With a look of disgust on their lips and a cold sneer they turn away saying things like “The graphics are so dated…” or “It’s too one dimensional and they’re all the same anyways. Play one and you’ve played them all.”

Then they walk over to the couch and power up the latest first person shooter. You know the one. It’s plastered all over the front page of every gaming website on the internet. Don’t even get me started on RPG’s. I love the genre to a fault but I swear that I’d trade in my balls for just one ounce less hand holding.

Take Ocarina of Time for instance. It’s heralded as one of the best games on the planet! It’s genius and yet that damned fairy will insist on treating you as if your brain was made of some soft sponge, an incontinent one at that.

“I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.” - H.P. Lovecraft, The Outsider

Modern games are there to remind you that your mother will never think of you as being older than five. A shmup is that awesome uncle or aunt who let you stay up late and watch Predator 2 when you were ten, because you told him you could handle it. Of course Predator 2 ended up terrifying the living hell out of you and a game like Dodonpachi Dai Jou Ou will leave you for dead at the roadside. Reality can be a brutal teacher and it loves cocky little bastards. You always feel OK though, no matter how many times you  fail. You feel OK because you made the decision to face these things and know it.

“Do you see over yonder, friend Sancho, thirty or forty hulking giants? I intend to do battle with them and slay them.” - Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, Don Quixote

This fantasy of being capable of anything, this madness I suffer from, sometimes cracks and falls victim to self-doubt. What if I’m too old to be playing games? What if playing shmups is stupid? What if I will never succeed in a 1CC?

Thinking this way reminds me of Franz Kafka’s novel, The Castle. In this story the protagonist (known simply as K.) struggles to gain access to a castle in which mysterious authorities reside. This story is about the pursuit of an unobtainable goal. The frustration of seemingly futile and hopeless attempts at a quest. Throughout the tale K is stuck in the village below the castle. He is at the foot of his goal. It is right in front of him! Yet he cannot get to it no matter how hard he tries. This is exactly how I feel some days when I try to clear a stage of Ketsui without dying. It feels impossible! It makes me want bang my head against the screen until the glass or my skull, I don’t care which, breaks. But then there is hope, and hope as we all know, is the last thing to die.

“If you are going through hell, keep going.” – Winston Churchill

Kafka passed away before finishing The Castle but suggested that the novel might end with K. dying in the village without ever reaching his goal. It’s dark and it’s crushing because it’s so horribly believable. This is what fills me with fear and doubt. There is the real possibility that I will never 1CC a game. It is when I’m at my most frustrated that I know I could try and try and try… and fail. At times like this I just stare at the bullets. I don’t see them but I know they’re there, filling the screen. Then hope sparks up once more deep inside my heart and I feed the machine another coin.

The games know I will return and are content to wait patiently. They think they’ll remain victorious forever but I know better.

“Let evil wait for the day on which it must fall.” - Stephen King, The Dark Tower.

Come Rocinante let us ride, for the tower and the high score.

Blowin’ in the Wind

Story and Illustration by Sandshoe

Black walked in swaggering. He was cooked. A day at the beach represented ‘what people do’.

“Went to the beach.” He was as self conscious as a flag and pulled away from around his neck the striped towel he wore as he would an ill fitting evening scarf.

Where she had stopped half way towards the interior room and glanced behind her when she heard Black about to come in, she was motionless.

“You got badly burnt,” she said.

Black recoiled and sneered. He made a noise of disapproval.

“You are badly burnt.”

Black sat down on an upended crate installed inside the door of the front living room to furnish it with a one-seater. He sprawled against the exposed framework of the wooden wall. He lolled his head. He raised his head, screwed his eyes almost shut, eyeballing her. He declared her wrong.

“Alright,” she said, “you’ll know about it tomorrow.”

She felt confused, but didn’t show it.

“I don’t burn. I can’t.” Black’s head fell forward. He feigned sleep.

She recovered her aplomb.

“All right,” she said and returned her attention to the walk across the bare boards of the room. Everywhere in The Castle’s interior was bare. She called back easily as she disappeared through the door into a baffle of sunlight accommodating a mezzanine floor above her.

“Must be the Red Indian in you.”

A tense expulsion of vented breath split the air. She heard Black scrape the upturned crate so it fell over when he stood.

She wasn’t frightened by Black’s impetuous movements. They were full of grace. The exclamation made her turn around and walk back into the front room to hear what Black was suggesting. He was leaning forward in front of the small mirror hung on a wall post. His legs creased forward, his knees bent the better to see his face full on and side to side, he swung his face wide to the view of the mirror’s reflection. “I am,” he mused. He turned to her, defenceless. “I never knew I could burn. I thought I couldn’t.”

Black sauntered immediately behind her as they both turned and headed towards the doorway into the interior room, the heart of the renovation furnished with bench seats either side of a wooden table. She skirted the table to access her room on the other side of the table, before she lay down to sleep through the rest of this afternoon’s heat threw the cushions onto the floor off her single divan bed, ready for evening loungers. Black ran up the ladder to the enclosed mezzanine that made a loft over the fireplace. He sang in the private consideration of space he shared with Suse.

Mismatched and partnered individuals meet and find a way to live together in squats. There is only one antidote for homelessness, housing and The Castle was an adventure, their roof overhead, a haven, sleeping place and – like a found object of the greatest value – companionship. None of the residents were keen to leave regardless while the meaning here was – so – different from the rhythms of the city streets and their neighbours. The resonance of the property was theirs and eccentric. The place was home everything aside. There was a lifestyle challenge. Parties were irresistible. The music was good. One length of power cord trailed through the entrance door past the end of the cement driveway and the levelled ground of the build site next door ran a stereo and boiled an electric kettle. The owner fallen from rank and who knows what directories through financial calamity had fled some time previous to the squatters’ occupancies and the power account lapsed.

This is where writing you depend on instinct to communicate an authentic claim to know something, perhaps a character very well, but story certainly. You need to know the story. An expansive sleight of hand to indicate direction or occasion – generate opinion – garners belief in it. You’ve got to give a little.

The Busker walks noisily in through the front door and espouses to himself he made some money. As he proceeds, he takes a packet of chocolate biscuits out of an army bivouac bag he slings through the doorway into his room. It is his ritual he stand in the doorway and rustle the cellophane paper of the packet of chocolate biscuits he buys any day coins are thrown by passers-by into his guitar case. Other residents straggle in. The Busker in his room tells of his fortune like a town crier. Evening would close in soon. The squatters will view the darkening gully tree tops through the window of the Busker’s bedroom. They drape as their mood and comfort takes them across the Busker’s double bed, sit  cross legged on his floor, cram alongside massive stereo speakers on a table. They guffaw, shout to nobody, enjoin, tell stories, recount memorable incidents without concern over the volume of the music. Some will keep a clear head. They will leave to turn in earlier than die-hard others. The heat of this night will intensify.

PAST EPISODES, READERS

Episode 1 – November 2010 – is here  http://pigsarms.com.au/2010/11/22/the-castle-episode-one-the-florist/

Episode 2 – April 2011 – is here  http://pigsarms.com.au/2011/04/02/the-castle-episode-2-wooden-%E2%80%93-it-%E2%80%93-be-%E2%80%93-nice-%E2%80%93-to-%E2%80%93-get-%E2%80%93-on-%E2%80%93-with-%E2%80%93-your-%E2%80%93-neighbours/

Episode 3 – February last – is here  http://pigsarms.com.au/2012/02/16/the-castle-episode-3-fruhlingsrauschen/

* Compared to this the discovery of a planet with four suns and another all-diamond planet just seems boring.

* The other day they drove the Space Shuttle through Los Angeles.

* University of Phoenix to close 115 locations.

* Like Lee Bessette I’m pretty skeptical of this move towards a “teaching track.” Has establishing multiple tiers like this ever improved labor conditions?

* World’s biggest geoengineering experiment ‘violates’ UN rules. I’ve been fascinated for years that large-scale geoengineering projects are now within the reach not just of nations, but of individuals. Things are going to get interesting, in the “ancient Chinese curse” sense.

* Title suggestions for Future Die Hard Movies.

* The Problem with Presidential Precedent.

* Will California end the death penalty this year? They should.

* Firefly animated spinoff? I really think at this point I’d rather just be happy with what we got than ride a bad version of the thing I love into the ground. #geekheresy

* The Strange Death of Alfalfa.

* Debt Collector Illegally Seizes Disabled Vet’s Savings, Tells Him ‘You Should Have Died.’

* How Buffy Predicted Geek Misogyny. I’m not sure predicted is really the right tense here. What an Academic Who Wrote Her Dissertation on Trolls Thinks of Violentacrez. Michael Brutsch, ViolentAcrez, and Online Pseudonyms. On Ruining Violentacrez’ Life. I’m told r/creepshots is already back, masquerading as a “fashion police” subreddit.

* Gallup and Josh Marshall teases crisis as a real divergence seems possible between the popular and the electoral vote.

* Some debate highlights: a brutal on-the-spot fact-check that will be part of presidential debate prep for years to come. How epistemic closure hurts a candidate. The binder story that launched a thousand memes wasn’t even true. Leaked Debate Agreement Shows Both Obama and Romney are Sniveling Cowards. And whoever is elected, the planet loses. What an embarrassing spectacle for the people of the future to witness. Not that it’s anything new.

* Trove of Kafka Documents Must Be Released, Israeli Judge Rules. You can pick them up at the Castle…

On August 16^th 2012, the High Court rejected Big Tobacco’s claim that the plain packaging legislation infringed section 51 of the Australian Constitution, the right to acquire property ‘on just terms’ (the section that The Castle’s all about). Having restricted television and radio advertising already, the legislation to ban package branding marks a point in time where the public advertising of tobacco brands will become something entirely of the past.

Stripping away a company of its marketing power raises a whole lot of tricky issues – intellectual property infringement and increased black market trading just to name a couple.  Yet, on the other hand, we’ve been shown the dangerous impacts individualised packaging can have on current and potential tobacco consumers. Studies by GFK Bluemoon revealed that brands and designs were seen to distort logical opinions of tobacco products. For instance, lighter coloured packs were seen as better for ones health, and particular brand logos, such as Benson and Hedges, indicated wealth and success of the owner.

Online campaigning has comprised the majority of the campaign’s momentum. Although traditional media outlets have played their part, YouTube advertisemens, online polls and petitions have been the main player in the fight against cigarette branding. To support the plain packaging campaign, head to https://action.cancerresearchuk.org/ea-action/action?ea.client.id=149&ea.campaign.id=15571

So… here’s my own little poll (#shamelesssearchformarks #hookmeupwithanH1doug)

And I just have this one last review to put up before then, so let me get right too it! This episode is all about Sydney Glass. I remember this episode, and it came as a bit of a shock. Wait, what do you mean Sydney is important? I know he’s Regina‘s right-hand man, but there’s something more to him? Which storybook character do you think he is? Is my opening picture giving it away?

This episode has a little bit of everything: romance! star-crossed lovers! temptation! freedom! intrigue! betrayal! Everything.

On a sunny autumn day, Emma and Henry meet at the dilapidated playground, which they call The Castle. Because of the recent storm, it’s pretty much destroyed, but that’s not what Henry’s concerned about. He starts digging around the playground for his Once Upon a Time book, which he keeps there in order to keep Regina away from it. He finds it, then re-bury it. Regina comes up just as Henry finished covering the book’s box, and of course she can’t leave without giving Emma some parting shots about letting her feelings cloud her judgement of what’s good for Henry.

At Granny’s Diner, Emma tells her woes to Mary Margaret over soup. MM suggests that maybe Regina is so angry because Emma and Henry have a special place where they are together. And speaking of being together… MM’s phone buzzes, and MM suddenly has to excuse herself.

A drunken Sydney Glass sits down in MM’s seat and tells Emma that he can grant her wish.

He tells her that he can help ruin Regina’s reputation, that she got him fired from his job at The Daily Mirror. In retaliation, he started digging up info that Emma might be interested to hear. Emma turns his offer down…for now.

Suddenly, we see ‘Sydney’ in a turban, with eyeliner and curly gotee. He’s sitting in a plush, golden room, and we hear loud thumps coming from ‘somewhere.’

As it turns out, Sydney is The Genie of Agrabah. And guess who found his lamp and summoned him? Why, it’s King Leopold – father of Snow White and husband to Queen Regina (it would be a little silly to just say ‘the Queen’ for this instance). By the way, you have no idea how difficult it is to find some of these characters names! Was his name ever mentioned before? I had to look it up in the cast list for this episode! Sheesh.

Step One…

… and POOF! Step Two!

He gives King Leopold the whole genie spiel, much like a cop repeats the Miranda Rights to someone he’s arresting:

 You’re entitled to three wishes, no more, no less, but you must know that magic has its limits. You cannot wish for life or death, you cannot wish for love, you cannot wish for more wishes, and once it’s been spoken a wish cannot be undone no matter what the consequences.

Okay, pretty standard. I belive Robin Williams said pretty much the same in Disney‘s Aladdin. But here’s the thing, Leopold doesn’t want anything. He gregariously says that he only wants happiness throughout his kingdom, and thoroughly exasperates the Genie. Leopold continues, noting that the Genie, present in his kingdom, is unhappy, and realizes that the Genie wishes he was free. So Leopold makes his first wish, and the Genie’s wristcuffs fall off. He’s free from his lamp! Still very Disney.

Leopold is not only ridiculously kind, but he’s rather clever as well, because for his second wish, he wishes to bestow the third wish onto the Genie. So now the Genie has his very own wish – but he knows that making a wish (aka magic) comes with a price, and vows to never use the wish. What’s the Genie going to do, now that he’s free? Find true love! Leopold invites the Genie back to the palace, certain that he’ll be able to find true love there.

Which is kind of weird – does Leopold have someone in mind for the Genie? No matter. They head towards the palace, where Snow and the Queen are outside doing a bit of winter gardening. As soon as the Genie sees Regina in her very Russian-royalty esque gown, he’s in love.

Back in Storybrook, Regina is tearing down the Castle playground. Because it’s unsafe for Henry. Totally not because it’s his and Emma’s spot. Henry goes to try and find the book’s box, only to see that it’s missing. Emma and Regina have a little tiff, as per usual, and as soon as Regina walks away Emma pulls out her cell phone and calls Sydney up. She’s in.

So, where was MM off to? To meet David at the t(r)oll bridge! As soon as she arrives David takes her to a special picnic he’s prepared for them. Ah, yes, their affair is really happening! MM wants to have the Define The Relationship talk with David and find out what they’re really doing, but David puts it off for ‘tomorrow.’

Meanwhile, Emma drives to a tunnel somewhere int he woods to meet Sydney, who’s really getting int the spirit of things with his trench coat and houndstooth hat. Sydney reveals the dirt he’s found on Regina: she’s embezzled $50,000 from the city budget. Emma isn’t impressed, but Sydney insists – if they keep pursuing this information, they’ll be able to expose her for the villain she is! Sydney tries to get Emma to do some of her ‘bail bond tricks’ (GPS the car, hack emails, etc.), but Emma refuses – as Sheriff, she wants to do everything by the book (and because of Henry, she wants to win by being good).

Before they part ways, Emma asks a very good question: “If you thought she was so terrifying, how did you allow yourself to end up in her pocket?” He replies, “I used to think she was a different person.”

Later that night at the palace, the court is celebrating Snow White’s birthday. Leopold calls Snow up to the dias and they sit on the thrones while he talks about how great she is. Poor Queen Regina. She’s still sitting at her dinner table, feigning a smile and holding back tears. Leopold is completely nuts for Snow, in a way that he isn’t for the Queen. He tells Snow that she’s the fairest in all the land - not his own Queen – and Regina quietly walks out into the gardens to stare sadly at the moon. At least she looks pretty.

So pretty, in fact, that the Genie saw her get up and leave and came outside to join her. The sad Queen confides in the Genie that she feels like she is both an outsider and a prisoner in the palace, and that there’s nothing she can ever do to make King Leopold forget about his first wife. The Genie decides to give her a present – a beautiful mirror. “So that you can see yourself, the way I see you. … As the fairest in all the land.”

Wow, the Genie is smooth!

Emma and Sydney stand in MM’s apartment, sorting through boxes of paperwork, and Emma realizes that files from a few weeks ago are missing – most likely, the files from the embezzlement. At that moment, MM comes in, ready for some girl talk with Emma, but sees that they have company. There’s one problem with doing things by the book – Emma and Sydney need a warrant to search Regina’s office and home for the missing records, and it’s highly likely that Regina has all the judges on her payroll as well. Sydney suggests sneakiness once again, saying that “Sometimes doing a bad thing for a good reason is okay.”

MM hears this from the kitchen, and agrees: “Yeah, I mean maybe if you’re doing something wrong but it’s meant to be does that really make you a bad person?” She’s talking very quickly, and very eagerly, and very suspiciously. Ignoring this, Emma compromises on the plan. They decide to go talk to Regina.

They tell her that they know about the money transfer, and that the files for that time period are missing. Regina counters with the argument that as the mayor she has a right to check out city files in order to look over them. Conveniently, it was right around the same time that the fire was started in City Hall. You know, the one Mr. Gold set so that Emma could save Regina from burning to death? The files were probably destroyed during that time. Emma isn’t buying it, but says that they don’t have anything and leaves.

But not before leaving Regina a little present – a bug, hidden just underneath her desk top.

Back at the palace, King Leopold calls the Genie to him so that they can talk about the Queen. Leopold expects that the Queen is in love with someone else (and a slight panic crosses over the Genie’s face), and has ‘evidence’ because he’s been reading her diary.

Well, looks like King Leopold isn’t all that great after all. I hate it when people read private diaries! It’s such an invasion of privacy. Nevertheless, he hands the diary to the Genie for him to read. The diary entry is about the Genie’s gift the previous night, and without mentioning names the Queen writes that this man’s gift has awoken love in her heart once again.

Leopold understands that the Queen isn’t happy in her marriage, and understands why the Queen wants someone to really love her, but he’s shocked by her ‘betrayal.’ So, why did Leopold as the Genie to come see him? So that the Genie can find out who this ‘mystery man’ is! However, the King won’t tell the Genie what he plans to do with this mystery man once he’s found. Yikes. The Genie agrees to find out, and it’s really, really awkward.

Back at the sheriff station, Emma and Sydney are listening in on the radio feed from the bug in Regina’s office, but so far everything seems pretty boring. Except for a phone call that Regina made, telling the other person to meet her off an abandoned road, where she will deliver cash to unnamed person, and reminds unnamed person to keep everything hush-hush. Emma and Sydney tail Regina’s car to the payoff site, but there’s a problem: the brake lines on Emma’s car have been cut, and she and Sydney crash into a road sign. Sydney suggests that Regina must have found the bug, and tampered with the brakes to make them miss her payoff meeting.

A very irritated Emma tromps through the woods to go find the payoff location anyway. She doesn’t have to look far – Mr. Gold comes out from the depths of the woods and tells them that Regina just bought some of his land. This land, in fact. Right here. In the middle of the woods. Not suspicious at all. Mr. Gold warns the detective duo to be careful about investigating Regina, then walks away.

The Genie waits for his secret rendezvous with the Queen, when her father/servant comes instead. He reveals that the Queen has been locked into her chamber, and her father isn’t allowed to go see her. He hands the Genie a box and asks him to take it to her, since the King trusts him. He tells the Genie that the box contains ‘the only thing that will set her free from this life.’ Hmm…

Emma and Sydney go back to City Hall, with the intention of breaking into Regina’s office to find an and all documents linking Regina, Mr. Gold, and the land she bought. Since Emma is the police in Storybrook, they have a bit more time than the average criminals to find what they need, and then some. Emma pulls out a huge ring of skeleton keys, but puts them away again – they aren’t what she’s looking for. She’s actually looking for Henry’s book, and she suspects Regina took it. Before she can do any further investigation, Regina runs in to shut off the alarm and spies Emma and Sydney.

Emma tries to make up a story about kids breaking and entering, but Regina isn’t buying it. Why is Sydney there? Uh….because he’s a witness! Yeah, that’s it! Emma should probably do a thorough search of the office to make sure nothing’s missing. Regina will have none of it, and sends them on their way.

The Genie makes it to the Queen’s chambers with the box, and they embrace tenderly. The Queen says that there can’t be an escape, but the Genie hands her the key to the box her father delivered. What’s in the box? A two-headed Agrabah viper. One bite, and the venom will instantly kill the victim. The Genie asks why that particular snake – a snake from his home country – was brought to do the deed. The Queen basically says it’s because she won’t have to suffer long. Wait….what? Yes, she’s planning to pull a Cleopatra and make the snake bite her, so that through death she can be free. Or, at least, that’s what it looks like.

The Genie won’t let her, and instead suggests that they use the snake on the King.

The Genie offers to take the snake to the king, and the Queen is so thankful. Once this is all done, they can be together forever. Hooray!

Poor Genie.

In Granny’s Diner, Henry is frantically trying to draw out everything from the book before he forgets it, when August Wayne Booth comes over to see what he’s doing.

Henry starts questioning August: why he is so interested in Henry and his book? Why is he in Storybrook? Who is he? Oh, yeah, because at this point we still don’t know his name.

Sydney and Emma look over their illegally obtained documents, and find just what they need to expose Regina. Emma isn’t pleased, though – they resorted to dirty tactics, and Emma knows that Henry will be disappointed in her. Plus, none of their evidence is admissible, legally. Sydney says that all they need to do is tell the people of Storybrook about Regina’s embezzlement – they don’t necessarily need to take her to court to ruin her. In order to convince Emma to jump back on board, Sydney shows her the series of spy photographs Regina forced him to take, and like magic Emma is in again.

They head down to the City Council Meeting. Yes, a real one. As soon as it begins, Sydney stands up and states that he has something the Council might be interested in hearing. Emma backs him up, and announces to everyone that Regina has been stealing money from the city budget in order to ‘build herself a second home.’ Now, that part is speculation, but it’s a pretty good guess. Emma takes the lead, building her case against Regina, calling her a thug and a bully. Notice that, while Emma is doing this, Sydney is keeping quiet.

Regina admits that she was indeed building a house…of sorts. She had been planning to build a playground for Henry and the children of Storybrook. The documents that Emma has, the ones that show the drawing for a house, were only the inspiration for the design of the playground. Yikes. Emma has just ‘exposed Regina’ as a kindhearted mayor and parent, especially since she was planning on telling the Council about the playground that very day. Yikes.

Back in the Kingdom, the Genie has snuck into the King’s bedchamber, and sicks the viper on the sleeping Leopold. Yes, he literally sicks it on the King. It’s kind of odd to watch, because the two-headed viper doesn’t have two heads on one neck – it has one head at each end of its body. Creepy. The Genie goes to stand by Leopold, and watches as the vipers bite him. As the King dies, the Genie admits that he is the man the Queen is in love with, thanks him for giving him his freedom, and asks forgiveness for killing the King so that the Queen may be free. Just before he dies, the King grabs the Genie’s hands and tells him that he regrets making his wish – the one that set the Genie free – because it did, indeed, have terrible consequences.

After being embarrassed in the City Council Meeting, Sydney and Emma are approached by Mr. Gold, who offers to help them fight against Regina. Emma turns him down – he is, after all, considered to be be more evil than Regina. Speaking of her, she pulls Emma aside and tells her that she knows Emma and Sydney broke into her office. Emma accuses her of messing with her brakes, but Regina points out that she didn’t have a motive since she wasn’t hiding anything. Emma vows to find something, and Regina reminds her once again that she is not to see Henry. Ever. I totally forgot that this early in the season Regina was still trying to make that work. Silly Regina, there’s no way that Henry will stay away from Emma! Half the time he goes to find her, not the other way around.

Now, why is Regina threatening Emma about Henry at this particular moment? Because Regina now has some fodder for blackmail – should Emma disobey her, she’ll take her to court and have her arrested for breaking and entering, theft, and attempted defamation. And, if she does take Emma to court, Henry will find out that she used ‘evil’ tactics to obtain all that ‘evidence.’ So now, Emma can only see Henry when Regina says so. Which will be never.

Henry and some other children are playing on the new playground, when he spies Emma sitting in her yellow bug. Using the walkie talkies, he asks her why she won’t come closer, and Emma tells him that she messed up with the investigation. So she tells Henry that they can’t see each other for a while, but vows to find the book at the very least. So sad. :(

But wait, what’s this? The box with the book in it! But who has the box? August. Wayne. Booth. How he found it, and why he took it, we don’t know.

Emma heads to Granny’s Diner to drown her sorrows side-by-side with Sydney. Sydney tells Emma that there is plenty more dirt to dig up, and that he’s officially Emma’s ally. And she buys it.

Back in the palace, the evil deed complete, the Genie returns to the Queen’s chambers to deliver the good news. They are free to be together! But the Queen is upset – the palace guards found the snake, and they know it’s from the same country that the Genie is from, and now they’re looking for him. For execution. Regina seems only marginally upset, and offers the Genie a chance to flee the Kingdom and avoid execution. But the Genie is quite clever. He realizes that it’s a set-up, perpetrated by none other than his True Love, the Queen. She chose that specific snake – there were plenty of other poisonous snakes to choose from – so that the Genie would automatically be blamed.

What the Genie can’t see, as he’s realizing all of this out loud, is the Queen’s face. I think that she was more upset than she let on, that she truly relished being loved so singly by the Genie, but ‘has no choice’ but to frame him for the murder so that she can really be free. Do I think that she really loved the Genie? No. But I think she really liked being loved by him. But the Queen puts on her villain face and tells the Genie that he’s no longer of use to her, and that she doesn’t love him. They will never be together.

The Genie still has his one wish, though. Remember when he said you can’t use the wish for love? Well, he tries in a roundabout way – he wishes to be with the Queen forever, “to look upon your face always, to never leave your side.” How does the magic lamp achieve this?

The Genie’s wish entraps him once again – this time inside of the mirror he gave the Queen. He is now her Magic Mirror. The Queen is actually pretty pleased with this – hooray, another person she gets to keep! And, as we are not told explicitly but can deduce from other episodes where the Magic Mirror appears, he is able to spy for her from any mirror, anywhere. He can manifest himself in anything reflective – which is how he found the Huntsman. He has become her perfect spy.

Poor Genie! :((

Sydney is back in Regina’s office, this time without Emma, but with Regina. As it turns out, he is still in Regina’s pocket, and is now ‘undercover’ so that he can spy on Emma. Why does he do it? Because Regina, just like she did in the Kingdom, is leading poor, lovesick Sydney on – as we can see when she places her hand seductively on his leg.

AND THAT’S IT! The very last review is done, and I am SO, SO ready for the season premiere! TONIGHT guys. MAGIC IS COMING.

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