• S: (v) ask (direct or put; seek an answer to) “ask a question”
• How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
• S: (n) visual perception, beholding, seeing (perception by means of the eyes)
• S: (n) talk, talking (an exchange of ideas via conversation) “let’s have more work and less talk around here”

• S: (n) chemistry, interpersonal chemistry, alchemy (the way two individuals relate to each other) “their chemistry was wrong from the beginning — they hated each other”; “a mysterious alchemy brought them together”
• S: (v) go steady, go out, date, see (date regularly; have a steady relationship with) “Did you know that she is seeing an older man?”; “He is dating his former wife again!”
• S: (n) fight, fighting, combat, scrap (the act of fighting; any contest or struggle) “a fight broke out at the hockey game”; “there was fighting in the streets”; “the unhappy couple got into a terrible scrap”
• S: (n) yelling, shouting (uttering a loud inarticulate cry as of pain or excitement)
• S: (n) pause, intermission, break, interruption, suspension (a time interval during which there is a temporary cessation of something)
• S: (v) reconcile, patch up, make up, conciliate, settle (come to terms) “After some discussion we finally made up”
• S: (n) sexual love, lovemaking, making love, love, love life (sexual activities (often including sexual intercourse) between two people) “his lovemaking disgusted her”; “he hadn’t had any love in months”; “he has a very complicated love life”
• S: (v) laugh, express joy, express mirth (produce laughter)
• S: (n) closeness, intimacy (a feeling of being intimate and belonging together) “their closeness grew as the night wore on”
• S: (n) life (the course of existence of an individual; the actions and events that occur in living) “he hoped for a new life in Australia”; “he wanted to live his own life without interference from others”
• S: (n) fight, fighting, combat, scrap (the act of fighting; any contest or struggle) “a fight broke out at the hockey game”; “there was fighting in the streets”; “the unhappy couple got into a terrible scrap”
• S: (n) crying, weeping, tears (the process of shedding tears (usually accompanied by sobs or other inarticulate sounds)) “I hate to hear the crying of a child”; “she was in tears”
• S: (adj) aloof, distant, upstage (remote in manner) “stood apart with aloof dignity”; “a distant smile”; “he was upstage with strangers”
• S: (n) termination, ending, conclusion (the act of ending something) “the termination of the agreement”
• S: (n) forlornness, loneliness, desolation (sadness resulting from being forsaken or abandoned)
• S: (v) overcome, get over, subdue, surmount, master (get on top of; deal with successfully) “He overcame his shyness”
• S: (n) encore (an extra or repeated performance; usually given in response to audience demand)
• S: (n) death, decease, expiry (the event of dying or departure from life) “her death came as a terrible shock”; “upon your decease the capital will pass to your grandchildren”
• And, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

In another attempt at therapy, I decided to look at objects that please me. While on my online journey from one vintage clothes shop to another, I randomly came across “Europe’s Premier Antiquarian Booksite.”

The session backfired, leaving me craving old objects and fantasizing about a small, dimly lit, box-like apartment crowded with books and antiques and other trifles nobody appreciates but me, while I look for a place to sit amidst the things. In the dream, I live with a shiny black cat like the one I once had.

One of my favorite people gave me the movie Quills to watch, simply saying “I know you will love it.” He was right, I loved it to the marrow of my bones.

The movie revolves around the Marquis de Sade, an aristocratic French writer whose name and philosophy gave birth to the term sadism:

Donatien Alphonse François de Sade, Marquis de Sade (June 2, 1740 – December 2, 1814) was a French aristocrat, revolutionary and writer of philosophy-laden and often violent pornography. He was a philosopher of extreme freedom (or at least licentiousness), unrestrained by morality, religion or law, with the pursuit of personal pleasure being the highest principle. Sade was incarcerated in various prisons and in an insane asylum for about 32 years of his life; eleven years in Paris (10 of which were spent in the Bastille) a month in Conciergerie, 2 years in a fortress, a year in Madelonnettes, 3 years in Bicêtre, a year in Sainte-Pélagie, and 13 years in the Charenton insane asylum. Much of his writing was done during his imprisonment. The term “sadism” is derived from his name.

Joaquin Phoenix, Geoffrey Rush, Kate Winslet, and Michael Caine star in the movie with such stellar performances which are matched only by the carefully-crafted plot and the intoxicating screenplay, to make for a sublimely engaging story.

Quills is now easily one of my favorite movies of all time. Watch it, I dare you.

The kids as they get a treat for being brave enough to eat out of my hand…

Jongar..

Hazza3..

Thanks, human mom, they tell me with their eyes.

Im tmptd to do ths agn. Also knwn as asylm hair…its the bst.

I like religious art mostly because the European visual arts were the interpretation of Christian thought in the periods which I value the most: from the Renaissance to the 19th century. I also like Islamic arts by the way, particularly calligraphy and tile work, although I must admit I regret their general lack of human figures for religious purposes, but I equally appreciate their luxurious attention to detail. It’s eye-opening to observe how the various religions promoted and prohibited the arts.

On that, a Jesuit church in Rome now features a dazzling show of light, sound, and a mechanical introduction of a Baroque masterpiece, all to delight the believers. I am in love with the idea:

Every afternoon at 5:30 sharp, the “ta-da” moment arrives at the Chiesa del Gesù, the mother church of the Jesuit order.

As choral music fills the church, a meticulously choreographed light show begins in the left transept of the Chapel of St. Ignatius of Loyola. During the startling crescendo, a painted altarpiece descends slowly, exposing a deep niche in which a majestic silver statue depicts St. Ignatius, founder of the Jesuits, jetting into heaven.

The spectacle does not actually end with the unveiling of the statue. The show goes on, ultimately illuminating the entire nave of the church, where St. Ignatius is welcomed into an illusionistic vision of heaven where figures spill out onto stucco clouds painted by G. B. Gaulli, known as Baciccia, and then into the church’s dome, where he is united with God.

Source

The reaction of the people present when the show takes place must be similar to that of peasants in Renaissance Italy upon entering a small church on a Sunday, to be met by a colorful altarpiece, in trivial occasions concealed, depicting a religious episode (and yet featuring the rich patrons of the church as characters). I imagine it must be very profound and awe-inspiring to see God or his work presented thus.

This is what I like to call The Art of Belief. It is the use of arts to inspire faith, a clever tool and one I personally am grateful for since it has helped the arts more than it has hindered them (at least in the past). I would love to see that Jesuit spectacle, as I am sure I would appreciate the marriage of art, faith, and mechanics in a holy place. If stained-glass church windows impressed me, this would send me into a trance.

I wish I was this man, except still a woman.

Other than spending my free time plotting to casually meet Craig Ferguson and enchant him so that we would get married the very next month, I read his book (Between the Bridge and the River), google his pictures, and watch him on YouTube.

No, really, I am not that desperate. I don’t spend ALL of my free time thinking about Ferguson, but I do find him very intelligent, funny, and prime eyecandy. Now some will argue that he is 45 and I am 23, but love knows no boundaries…and the man has a tattoo for crying out loud! (It reads: Dulcius ex aspirus, or “sweeter after difficulty.” = Yum!)

The reason for this post is that yesterday I officially joined Glaswegian – The Craig Ferguson Fanlisting, to which I had applied months ago. I am happy I am now an official, certified fan minus the crazy antics that fans normally do. For all we know, I am probably the most sane of all Ferguson’s fans and what I just said in the previous passages confirms this.

Ferguson’s book, Between the Bridge and the River, was to me an exciting existential read that paralleled my own attitudes towards life. It was when I read his book that I was certain Ferguson’s witty intellect on his show was in fact no show, and I enjoyed connecting to his ideas because they were similar to mine.

I like him because he’s quirky and spontaneous and simply funny, and now I will go and celebrate my official ‘fan’ status and that I am the ONLY official Ferguson fan in Jordan. I leave you with this interview he did with Gerard Butler from 300 (aka The 6-Pack Movie):

I have recently become obsessed with classical music to an unprecedented degree. I am very deeply in love with a Carl Orff composition called O Fortuna, which is the title of one of 24 Latin poem collection called Carmina Burana, dating back to the 13th century.

I have always had a profound, at times sinful, attraction to dark moods. By nature, I have a morbid mind and a tendency to appreciate the obscure, the gloomy, and the depressing. Within this context, I am a blink away from worshiping O Fortuna.

O Fortuna (Chorus)

O Fortuna
velut luna
statu variabilis,

semper crescis
aut decrescis;
vita detestabilis

nunc obdurat
et tunc curat
ludo mentis aciem,

egestatem,
potestatem
dissolvit ut glaciem.

Sors immanis
et inanis,
rota tu volubilis,

status malus,
vana salus
semper dissolubilis,

obumbrata
et velata
michi quoque niteris;

nunc per ludum
dorsum nudum
fero tui sceleris.

Sors salutis
et virtutis
michi nunc contraria,

est affectus
et defectus
semper in angaria.

Hac in hora
sine mora
corde pulsum tangite;

quod per sortem
sternit fortem,
mecum omnes plangite!

English Translation

O Fortune,
like the moon
you are changeable,

ever waxing
and waning;
hateful life

first oppresses
and then soothes
as fancy takes it;

poverty
and power
it melts them like ice.

Fate – monstrous
and empty,
you whirling wheel,

you are malevolent,
well-being is vain
and always fades to nothing,

shadowed
and veiled
you plague me too;

now through the game
I bring my bare back
to your villainy.

Fate is against me
in health
and virtue,

driven on
and weighted down,
always enslaved.

So at this hour
without delay
pluck the vibrating strings;

since Fate
strikes down the strong man,
everyone weep with me!

Download O Fortuna – Carl Orff here. Everyone weep with me.

Well of Loneliness, 1943
Carl Kahl

What do you do when your soul mates drift away?

Do you lull your melancholy with hopes of future quick, poor visits every now and then? Do you anxiously wait for them to be cloned, replaced by exact types to keep you company when it rains and you’re hungry? Do you propose unnecessary plans just so you can bask in the memories only they share with you? Do you sit alone and get acquainted with yourself, and miss them all the same? Do you secretly wish they would not go away to a distant land, to the arms of a lover, and wish they remain yours forever?

What do you do, what can you do that is not in vain? Tell me.

- The Little Theater. At MoMA, July 12th 2007.

You may want to watch these two short clips about Dali and his art:

Online Videos by Veoh.com

Online Videos by Veoh.com

Even if it wasn’t for my twisted dreams involving elements of his surrealist works, Robert De Niro and a finger in an open bullet wound in my throat, honestly, you know I can relate to someone who said:

Take me, I am the drug; take me, I am hallucinogenic.

Finally! After five days of terrible dependence and relevant immobility…Havana Brown returned home! My precious companion is now an image of perfection. Beautiful, beautiful Havana.

I wasn’t so sure the insurance company’s garage will do a good job at giving her the plastic surgery she needed. I think I was even terrified she would return with a clumsy patch across her face. I called the company so many times this morning, every 30 minutes or so, and literally gazzazet-hom until they finally promised they will call me when she arrives to their HQ.

At around 2 PM the company called and asked me to come pick up Havana. I left the office in a hurry and when I got to HQ my eyes were searching, looking around, trying to find her…”Will there be a patch?”… “Will it be a cheap paint-job?”…”Where is she?”

An image of perfection, that’s what I saw when I spotted her parked next to a restaurant close by. You’d think an insurance company would have a parking lot around, but not in this land of virtually non-existent oversight. I checked Havana out, and, satisfied with the surgery, claimed the keys to that vixen.

Before:

After:

You know that my fascination with serial killers and cannibalism must have reached its peak of perversion when I celebrate the voting of my favourite on-screen character of all time, Dr.Hannibal Lecter, as the all-time top movie villain. I strangely feel a personal connection to Lecter, and that adds to my pride that he has received this honour.

Indeed, Lecter embodies supreme intellect and malice combined in one person and yet leaving some room for something humane, as odd as this may sound. He and Lucifer are not that different if you reflect on their build-up for a moment; the similarity of their names is but a cliché if you don’t dig deeper. I am sure Lecter would want you to try something new; dig deeper — you might find splendid dark things.

Voted the all-time movie villain in an American Film Institute poll, Thomas Harris’ epicurean madman has been played by three actors: Brian Cox in the 1986 Manhunter (based on the novel Red Dragon), Gaspard Ulliel as the teen Lecter in this year’s Hannibal Rising and Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal and the 2002 remake of Red Dragon. Audiences connected with Lecter for his majesty and eclat as much as his dark sadism. I’ve chosen the 2001 Hannibal because, promoted from featured player to antihero, Lecter finally gets to display his sick talents center-stage; and because Hopkins makes this mad genius more insinuating and horrifying than ever.

Source: Time — Top 25 Greatest Villain

I was heart-broken twice. Once when Tsuki-san died, and once again when I saw his clone in the street and had my joy crushed instantly.

But Tsuki-san is back from the dead! He came back home after a month’s absence, dirty, beaten, and thin. My Tsuki is still alive — he never died! Or did he die, and then felt so bad for me that he returned? Cat resurrection?

Doesn’t this seem very weird? My father found him dead in the street a couple of weeks ago and I mourned him and considered a hamster for a mini-companion during my rebound time. My sister was about to get me one today but she changed her mind in the last minute. Tsuki’s girlfriend never visited us while he was gone… And Tsuki came home and brought her with him!

I gave him a bath, as I had promised myself when I saw his clone. He hated me for it, of course, but that’s OK. Who cares if he hates water as long as he is alive? Sing along: My baby is home and the joke was on me.

Welcome back, Tsuki-san!

At 8:10 AM today, Havana Brown and I were just out of the garage. It was a funny-feeling morning and my eyes were still burning and dry. Seconds later I had not yet driven past the main entrance of home when I saw Tsuki-san! 

I stopped in the middle of the street, oblivious to the possibility that a neighbor’s car or a school bus just might make an appearance at that moment, and just stared at the cat. A million thoughts raced through my head; maybe dad thought it was Tsuki-san who was dead in the street yesterday — I will definitely give him the bath I put off last week — Will throw away the cat food he doesn’t like — Must fix him — I shouldn’t have cried so much yesterday after all — Ha Ha. 

I opened the door and got halfway out of the car, and called on to him… Tsuki… Tsuki. He just looked at me. Then I looked at his tail and for a split second I saw my ecstasy physically dissolve in front of my eyes. It wasn’t Tsuki after all, it was a cat that looked exactly like him but had a shorter tail. 

I think if the dead do come back, we would all love them very much more than before. But that would also make us the butt of the joke.

Today Tsuki-san, my cat, died. He was only two years old. Someone ran him over with their car.

Tsuki-san is Japanese for Mr.Moon. My brother rescued Tsuki-san from the dumpster when he was a few days old, back in April 2005. Tsuki was so tiny and so cold when I got him, his umbilical cord had not fallen out yet and his eyes were still shut.

I fed him and I took care of him. I would often wake up in the night to change his warm water bottles. And I remember how happy I was when he opened his little eyes for the first time. Of course then I had to make sure they didn’t get clogged and a daily routine of dabbing them with moist and warm cotton pads was followed for some time.

Tsuki-san used to sleep next to me during my many siestas. Most of the time it was he who did the sleeping because I would stay up for fear I might move or turn and annoy him. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. I will miss that.

He was very playful and had an abnormally long tail which was his favorite toy. He never really appreciated catnip or his black necklace/collar, much less the bell on it. He also liked playing with paper balls, and he never bit a child pulling him from the tail. His character was very distinct from all my previous cats; I loved him the most.

Tsuki liked to climb into my humungous closet and to play with the bags on the closet floor and with whatever items of clothing he could find dangling. There was this one time when he fell asleep inside the closet and was locked in until the following morning. I don’t think he tried to get into my closet after that.

When he got bigger and taller (he was a very tall cat), I could no longer give him baths on my own. He particularly detested the bathroom for this reason and he could tell that he was going to be wetted, shampooed, and rubbed whenever my brother and I gave him that “look.” He would then avoid us, but we would get him anyway.

I think Tsuki-san was probably the dirtiest cat I ever had. He really could not care less about his personal hygiene unless it was mating season (and I make no guesses in this field). He was specifically filthy in the winter and I would not clean him for fear he might catch a cold.

Around September 2006, Tsuki got himself a girlfriend. This was a smaller female cat who followed him everywhere he went and even shared his food. I had doubts about the nature of their relationship but I later discovered it was entirely platonic – Tsuki may have been a bad boy, but he was no pedophile.

My bonding with Tsuki-san was the highlight of any day during the past two years. I miss him terribly and I am deeply saddened by his premature death. I am not sure if there is a cat paradise somewhere in the heavens, but I know Tsuki would probably not want to go there. He would want to spend eternity sleeping on my red couch or stealing food from mom’s pots. That’s my boy.

Tsuki-san is now remembered vividly in the following posts:

Chicken skin

And now we feast

Lazy cat who has no keys

Untitled

Cute little monstress

Oddly enough

Feline related entry: Fall from Grace

Feline related entry: Viva Tsuki-san

Requiescant in pace, beloved friend.

Not to break off the arguably-sickening chain of posts in category Love, I have to devote a second one to Hannibal. The first one, “Is this Clarice? Why, hello Clarice,” can be accessed by clicking on the title.

Hello to you, reader.

Now for some cinematic initiation, Wikipedia says:

Hannibal Rising (2007) is the fifth film about Dr. Hannibal Lecter. A prequel to Red Dragon, The Silence of the Lambs, and Hannibal, it is an adaptation of Thomas Harris’ 2006 novel of the same name and will tell the story of how Hannibal becomes the infamous serial killer of the previous films and books. (Link to Hannibal Rising Wiki)

I was brought to light on the existence of the movie by pure luck, or by the usual diabolique scheming of The Fates, while  browsing Slate. The critique of the movie was anything but kind, here’s a link to Dana Stevens’ Eurotrash Schoolboy: The Young Lecter in Hannibal Rising, and then some:

The movie is trudgingly tedious—if you’re in it for the violence, be advised that each action scene is separated from the next by at least 20 minutes of macabre vamping. Above all, the movie is shameless. It doesn’t hesitate to avail itself of whatever historical boogeyman it needs to advance the plot, whether it’s Klaus Barbie’s exportation of French children to Auschwitz or the loss of one’s entire family in Hiroshima.

Stevens is entitled to her own opinion until I formulate my own. For the time being, I am excited beyond repair merely knowing that there exists a story frame for Hannibal as a young person. I cannot wait to watch the movie, and when I do, be promised that you shall read about the experience. Another post labeled Love will come your way — Yes.

To get appropriately inspired for the movie itself, do visit the official page at HannibalRising.com. The site offers information on the movie, which is directed by Peter Webber, and even lets you send Hannibal Rising e-cards.

Oh, the movie was released on Friday, February 9th, 2007.

The things I would give to meet this man…

الطيب صالح Tayeb Saleh (or Al Tayyeb Saleh)

It’s back by popular demand. I am uploading a second Adiga music sample (find the first Adiga music sample here)

This piece is by Omar Bazoqa.Enjoy it everyone.

Casino Royale sheds a little light on the beginnings of legendary British agent and notorious heartbreaker James Bond. The movie touches on Bond’s promotion to his 00 “double O” status and his rather bumpy-yet-interesting relationship with M. It is also most revealing of the background of 007’s emotional life.

In the series of movies covering Bond’s career, spectators are used to his introducing himself with the famous line; “Bond, James Bond.” In Casino Royale, however, spectators do not see 007 using the line until the end of the movie – when 007 has fully matured into the larger-than-life figure that they are used to in other movies telling of subsequent periods of his career.

The usage of this famous line was not the only aspect that was slightly modified in Casino Royale. In a certain scene, Bond shocks fans by declaring that he does not care if his Martini is shaken or stirred. In another scene, Bond confesses his love to Vesper Lynd – a female character introduced, doubtlessly, to explore the tender side of the naughty licensed killer. Interestingly, Vesper Lynd saves Bond’s life three times in Casino Royale, and that just might be a record number. On top of all that, one cannot help but notice that the song in the introduction of the movie did not feature any female figurines – quite unusual for a story on a charmer.

Personally, I thought the movie was great. This is a thrilling movie that I would watch over and over again. I enjoyed every second of it in varying degrees and I thought it was a spectacular treatment of the emotional and professional growth of Bond. I found that the movie gradually took me from Bond’s early rash days to his wiser, more mature ones with convincing eloquence and comfortable sequence. I did not find much to be “out of place” but I would have preferred it if the villain, Le Chiffre, was more wicked.

The one scene I found unconvincing was when Bond cracked a joke while bound to a bottomless torture chair. “Everyone’s going to know that you died while scratching my bottom” – I believe that’s what he said. I hated the laughter that followed, both from the spectators and from Bond himself, and that is one thing I would take out of the movie if I could.

On Daniel Craig’s performance, I thought it was satisfactory. I found he did an excellent job, both with his physique and his acting, and I salute the choice that placed him as Bond (Although I still feel sore about Eric Bana’s not making the cut). That aside, I failed to catch a glimpse of the Austin Martin’s gear.

For the serious, here’s an interesting bit of a review/article on a book titled The Man Who Saved
Britain by Simon Winder. Article by Michiko Kakutani, titled The Empire’s Sun Has Set, but James Bond Is Forever. Good things come from Yoda:

While Britain was coping in the 1950s and 60s with unemployment,
inflation, strikes and demoralization, and making the humbling
transition from empire to welfare state, “a solitary Englishman” — who
embodied the old-fashioned belief that a single individual could save
the day through sheer guts and expertise — was almost single-handedly
maintaining “the country’s reputation.”

While “the magic, the romance and the often squalid reality of
dominion over the world which had animated millions of emigrants,
sailors, soldiers, traders, journalists for so many generations came
to an absolute, unrecoverable, bewildering end,” Mr. Winder writes,
somewhere on the globe, in a luxury hotel, one man was secretly
“slipping a .25 Beretta automatic into his chamois-leather shoulder
holster, examining his rather cruel mouth in the bathroom mirror,
putting on his dinner jacket and going out into the night to save
their world.”

In real life James Bond would be in his 80s now, but he is one of
those literary characters like Peter Pan who never age and never
change. Just as the books and movies follow a familiar formula, so
Bond himself, as Mr. Winder writes, is at his most reassuring when
“like a hamster with his wheel, he performs the same narrow set of
functions over and over — the scenario, the seduction, the foiling of
the plot, the killing of the villains.”

For Mr. Winder, Bond, like the queen, remains a curious “fossil
remnant” of an imperial attitude that has long since vanished from the
rest of Britain.

“The queen must presumably spend some part of the day,” he writes,
“moping about how her dad had been king-emperor, had the allegiance of
a quarter of the planet and had been treated in some quarters as a
god, whereas she has to wander around the streets expressing interest
in the lives of ladies holding plastic flags with ice cream dripping
down their fronts. Bond shows no such introspection or reskilling. It
is a very odd aspect of contemporary Britain that a country which is
almost unrecognizable from the one which nurtured Fleming (aside, of
course, from the occasional survival, such as a seemingly unstoppable
urge to despoil Iraq) should still, for so much of the world, remain
the country of James Bond.”

I love her. I have been thinking of ways to repel my brother from driving her and this is what I have come up with so far, all in line with my intimate preferences, of course:

1- Get a Tololy.com bumper sticker.
2- Change the color of the beige interior textile to fuschia or red. A Zebra pattern would also be stunning. This bit here has a double function; it will make the car a unique ride and will protect the original textile.
3- Glue fake little diamonds all around the driver’s mirror. Those will be a challenge to remove if I ever intend to sell her to a non-female person.
4- Paint her red – this will happen eventually.
5- Get a matching cover for the steering wheel. I know this is “7afartali” and very un-hip but I don’t think I can resist.

I fancy non-standard objects. Très original. Oui.

Do you remember when I spilled my heart out about Adiga music and how much I completely adore it? I think I managed to upload a sample of Adiga music that I always listen to and I want to spread the love. Indulge your senses…

Adiga music sample

Amazing tunes and beautiful dancing – that’s what Adiga music is. It is by far my favorite type of audio, alongside bellydance music.

I remember when I was just a child my mother and my aunt (her sister) would arrange for us to go watch live performances at Jeel club in Amman. Those were one of the best times of my life, I loved the theatrical nature of the stories of each dance and the music was divine.

The reason why I am writing this is that I have been listening to Qafa music over and over again for the past couple of hours and it’s magical the way this music gives me energy. It makes me want to do something, what, I do not know.

I love clapping to Adiga music, I love tapping my feet (because I cannot dance) as I sit mesmerized looking at the Pshinawa (occordion player), and I dissolve in it like nothing else. The exciting cries of Adiga men beside the Jagg (dancing area) drive my adrenaline levels up,up,up.

My heart is beating so fast. It has been some time since I’ve last been to a live performance or a fantazeyyeh. If you’re going to one, take me with you! I should be able to treat this subject with more detail and I might even try uploading a music sample but in the meantime you can check Zaid’s great blog on Circassians.

Back to my passion. Heart is beating so fast!

I am about to pay tribute to one of the most memorable characters in modern cinema, Dr. Hannibal Lecter. This here is a cannibal, a criminal, a genius, and a devoted lover and manipulator. How teasing.

In The Silence of The Lambs and Hannibal Dr. Lecter’s word craft and mental domination made my heart skip a beat, such a perfect canvas of malicious brilliance! Something you cannot overlook, really, it thrusts itself in your mind and forces you to acknowledge its greatness, even if you do not like gore, rather, especially if you do not like gore.

A must it is to note that Sir Anthony Hopkins plays the role of Dr. Lecter in all three movies: The Silence of The Lambs 1991, Hannibal 2001, and Red Dragon 2002. His emergence as the optimum, elitist pick for the role is beyond words. There is no denying he was tailored to embody it, or that, in play, it was tailored to fit none other than him. He happens to be my favorite actor.

That twisted love-hate relationship between Hannibal and Clarice is captivating. She fears him yet she trusts him, and he delivers her at the end of Hannibal by chopping off his hand rather than hers after being chained together; an unforgettable scene for those who watched the movie. The way he talks to her, “Hello, Clarice”, and the way his speech picks speed at times in an intimidating fashion, always calmly, so calm, so dangerous, the thrill of it bites you in the neck.

Words, words, words; you must watch the movies to see Lecter in all his glory and might. But a note on the side, if mutilation and vicious cannibalistic attacks disturb you, stick to those words. I would hate being sued because of my recommending my favorite movie to others, I cannot afford it. (Rated R).

Should you be interested in the screenplay of The Silence of The Lambs or that of Hannibal, find the first here and the second here.

I quote Dr.Lecter, from Hannibal, before offering a piece of cooked human brain (that of Paul Krendler) to a curious child on an airplane:

“As your mother tells you, and my mother certainly told me, it is important, she always used to say, always to try new things.”

In a letter to Clarice: “Your job is to craft my doom, so I am not sure how well I should wish you. But I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun. Ta-ta, “H.”"

“I do wish we could chat longer, but I’m having an old friend for dinner.”

A horrendous job I’d do at writing relationship how-to’s, but recently someone asked me a question related to wether or not I will be tackling any such issues in the future. I object to very little, mostly nothing really, if it meets my fancy.

And, as a reward for your patience with my complex syntax and interests, I shall unveil to you the recipe of Love Potion no.9. Let it be known and public that I will not, under any circumstances, be held responsible for any harmful consequences that may occur once this potion is prepared and/or tried. Now that I have stripped myself of all legal and moral responsibility, enjoy, and love one another.

In a small pot, simmer a half cup of jojoba oil and, moving your spoon clockwise, stir in 9 drops each of the following essential oils: ambergris, cinnamon, frankincense, jasmine, lavender, musk, orange blossom, rose, violet, and ylang ylang. Let cool and store in a dark glass container. Dab yourself with it as you would your favorite perfume before a night out (or a night in) to drive your loved one wild with desire.