Category: 300 News Posted by: DaisyMay Helsinki, Finland. The town I love and where I was born. But I often travel, preferably to eastern Europe, most often to the Baltic States and Russia. I work with publishing and media. But this blog is not my work diary. I am interested in politics, history, and languages. At the moment studying several. This blog is cynical at times, but funny, too. Critical, always. Pessimistic, never.
Happy Easter! Pasha, blinys and 300.
Article Date: April 8, 2007 | Publication: IStori Blog | Author: IStori
Source: Istori Blogspot
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Miss Funnybunny made that beautiful Easter birdie card, with her own palm. Miss Funnybunny is at her grandparents' with Mr HP, and I miss them terribly. (But I could not go, had just too much to do. And I will be travelling soon, too, in London, and Milan...)
Pasha on the table was made by a friend and neighbour MT. Thanks! What a lovely Easter surprise.
The pumpkins around the pasha are marsmallows. Not self-made, no.
And yesterday I went downtown, to the Southern part of Helsinki, Ullanlinna.
LH and I celebrated Easter (a bit in advance), and ate blinys with caviar (roe, actually), mushrooms, onions, pickled cucumber (Russian style! the best in the world), smetana and honey. And drank Siberian beer.
Easter is about dying. And yes yes, about resurrection, but I do not understand what that means. I have thought a lot about dying recently. Last year me and my friends lost some significant people, significant to us: friends, members of our families, people we wished we had known better.
But we all will die. Do I understand it? I am not sure, but I am perhaps getting closer to understanding that, since I get older and older. No healthy 25-year-old can really understand dying. But closer to 40's one starts thinking about health and good food and exercising and buying anti-wrinkle cream and all that horrible stuff the markets are cheating us with.
To shake and stir the theological thoughts I went to see an excellent movie. Wow, that was something!
It was so good. My friend VT and I had to choose out of many films: the newest Bond, Pan's Labyrinth (still would like to see that one), Goya's Ghosts (a new Milos Forman, can you believe that?) and Quelques jours en septembre (my being a huge fan of la Binoche).
Luckily there were a bunch of films I would never go and see, like The Queen (WHY on earth would anyone want to see a film about one of the most boring women on earth?????! And don't give me that crap about Helen Mirren being so good. Yes, she certainly is, but in Finland we get to watch Tennyson series on TV, and she is so good in there, too), Music And Lyrics (Usch.), and so on.
But 300 was so good.
Frank Miller is a genius. He is a wizard of graphic arts. He is a master of storytelling. It was so beautiful. It was pure, wonderful visual pleasure.
About the body count... You can start with 300. But the film was not just about war and killing. It was about the long threads of people. I am not interested in ancestors or family histories, but I am very interested in major historical turning points and the ugly start of our so-called civilisation.
300 is about intrigue and passion. About immortality that does exist on earth. About rough life that is so hard that dying is not scary but a gate to the free world. About moral stronger than the words of useless gods, and stronger than the sinful and corrupt priests. About loyalty to the pricelessly valuable person by your side.
About stories larger than life.
(I must get a rental 300 DVD once it's out. Or actually, I may have to buy the film. Oh, what the h***. I will go and see it again in a theater.)
Category: 300 News
Posted by: DaisyMay
Helsinki, Finland. The town I love and where I was born. But I often travel, preferably to eastern Europe, most often to the Baltic States and Russia. I work with publishing and media. But this blog is not my work diary. I am interested in politics, history, and languages. At the moment studying several. This blog is cynical at times, but funny, too. Critical, always. Pessimistic, never.