Since I've accumulated a reasonable amount of fiction, I figured it's about time I made a masterlist. More importantly, I've posted them on different sites, so this is also to help me keep track of the fruits of my labor.

( have at thee! )


updated: 27 Feb 2013

...and what's on the other side?
rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
and rainbows have nothing to hide.
so we've been told, and some choose to believe it.
i know they're wrong, wait and see.
someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
the lovers, the dreamers, and me.
—Kermit the Frog

i have known my wifey for twelve years. TWELVE YEARS. AND A DAY. granted, we haven't been civilly united for that long (i don't know any state that lets ten- or eleven-year-old children get married, much less same-sex ones), but that's irrelevant.

we had lunch today at the. most. tacky. faux. french. cafe. (with or without lace details on the cancan dancers painted on the walls) and she happened to overhear a couple of middle-aged women squabbling over the check. wifey: that's us when we get old. mind you, we didn't meet up to commemorate twelve years (and a day) of knowing each other. good thing too considering how disappointing each of our desserts was—cheap cake pretending to be a pear torte, tart made with canned cherry filling. still, those two women were us (or maybe we them?), the number of times we've bickered at the cash register while smiling at the cashier.

in twelve years, we've gone from talking about dragonball-z and gundam wing (hard to imagine, but she used to be so innocent, she thought i was a total freak when i broached the subject of boy-love and proclaimed myself a heero/duo shipper) to plotting ways to benefit off rich, older men (most plots involving a husband's untimely yet convenient death and each other as an accessory). if we were weird back then, we're definitely weirder now.

at least we're still us.

Through the month of June Kumu Kahua Theatre is reviving Alani Apio's Kamau A`e, the second instalment in Apio's as-yet incomplete trilogy dramatising the Hawaiian sovereignty movement. Kamau and Kamau A`e present the struggles over land, language, and identity between Native Hawaiians and haoles, and more importantly the same struggles within the Native Hawaiian community. But the plays present a war that is far too real, far too realistically. Indeed, Hawai`i has its own blood diamonds.

Two semesters ago I read the plays and was assigned the task of seeing into the future of Apio's Kamau universe to write the third instalment. Children are almost never thought of in times of war, so I was drawn to the character of Stevie, the little girl present throughout both plays though not always seen, in that she is the common denominator of the adults at odds with each other.

Kamau a`e—you carry forward that which needs to be remembered. One thing Hawaiians get: we know what is pono.

( Undertow )

Despite small alterations in its form, William Wordsworth’s “The Solitary Reaper” retains its function as a ballad. Typically, ballads are composed of quatrains with alternating lines of iambic tetrameter and iambic trimeter and a rhyme scheme of ABCB. Instead, “The Solitary Reaper” consists of four octaves, eight-line stanzas, with lines that are for the most part in iambic tetrameter. And while the first four lines of each octave retain the ballad rhyme scheme, the last four lines are two couplets. Functioning as a ballad, “The Solitary Reaper” is a narrative: the speaker of the poem tells of a lone girl whom he witnesses reaping the season’s harvest. Though he never approaches the stranger like the wandering narrators of most Wordsworth’s ballads, he fixates on the song which she sings and he overhears. It is the girl, the solitary reaper’s, song that provides the basis for the rest of the poem.

( the rest of 'Reaping Emotional Meaning' )

So, it took watching 71: Into the Fire a third time for me to actually collect my thoughts and manage to organize a coherent and un-biased response. (The first time, I was too busy crying through most of it and even more well after the closing credits; the second time, I was crying even before the sad parts came up because I knew when they were.) I still cried like a baby the third time. Just saying.

( 2k words: into the spoilers )

Dear K______,

In three of the modern variations of Little Red Riding Hood—James Thurber’s “The Little Girl and the Wolf,” Roald Dahl’s “Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf,” and the film Freeway starring Reese Witherspoon—the female protagonist is armed with a gun which she eventually uses to kill the wolf/attacker.  The fact that all three protagonists are prepared for the encounter serves as proof of Thurber’s moral: that little girls are no longer easy to fool.  These versions of the Little Red tale, then, indicate how folklore adapts to and reflects the time in which it is produced.  None of the three stories has retained the didactic or precautionary lesson found in older variations that warn young girls to remain on the path lest they be “eaten” by “wolves.”  The implication, of course, is that modern young women are already aware of the potential threat posed by men and have therefore fittingly ensured their own safety by carrying firearms on their person.
Thurber’s Little Girl, Dahl’s Little Red, and Vanessa in Freeway represent more than the clever and well-informed girl.  By protecting themselves, they become their own heroes (or rather heroines), making woodcutters and police officers obsolete saviors or “good” male figures.  Furthermore, the gun is undeniably a phallic symbol--Dahl’s Little Red goes so far as to draw the gun from her underwear.  Marked by their confidence, assertiveness, and trigger fingers, these three girls prevail against the male threat by taking on masculine characteristics.  What’s more, in all three adaptations, the girl protagonist shoots and kills the wolf/man while he is disguised as her grandmother.  (In fact, Vanessa shoots her “wolf” on two separate occasions.)  Thus, on the one hand the young women in these stories succeed as a result of their masculine behavior and weaponry, while on the other the male sexual aggressors are thwarted and ultimately killed dressed in women’s clothing, that is, emasculated.
Though the stories indeed empower young women, the message of gender is a muddled one: women win if they are masculine, but men lose if they are feminine.  This message is especially insidious, considering Dahl’s story was written for children.  Nevertheless, all three adaptations manage to approach the issues of sexual violence and female obedience that make older versions intimidating with a fair amount of humor, albeit of the dark sort.

Did I really just read a 500-page novel in four days?  And before that, a 200-pager in a day and a half?  What has my life come to? At least both books were enjoyable enough.  Though I almost wish I could be ashamed of all the reading I do for school.  At the same time, it gives me an excuse to ignore people.

( I go too far...I am remarkable (when it comes to spoilers) )

I've just finished playing catch-up with my schoolwork (read: forced myself to stop writing and/or reading fanfiction for a single day) while on a caffeine high. And even five hours ahead of time. I shouldn't feel so accomplished, considering the work should've been done weeks ago, but Jupiter smite me: I'm smug. I managed to watch and read an eclectic combination of British stuff, and provide some meaningful commentary. I'm posting the criticism not to show off (it's honestly not the best work I could've done), but to recommend all three works. Have at it.

( SPOILERS ABOUND )

Dear K______,