Shutter Island.

Hi ho,

Zak suggested that I watch shutter island, as it would be a movie that I would enjoy. :) He wasn't wrong. I was pulled right into the story (even if the acting was a little distracting at times).

This summary is from the IMDB website, which is where I look up all info on movies or TV programs. Shutter Island summary can be found here, as well as below.

• It's 1954, and up-and-coming U.S. marshal Teddy Daniels is assigned to investigate the disappearance of a patient from Boston's Shutter Island Ashecliffe Hospital. He's been pushing for an assignment on the island for personal reasons, but before long he wonders whether he hasn't been brought there as part of a twisted plot by hospital doctors whose radical treatments range from unethical to illegal to downright sinister. Teddy's shrewd investigating skills soon provide a promising lead, but the hospital refuses him access to records he suspects would break the case wide open. As a hurricane cuts off communication with the mainland, more dangerous criminals "escape" in the confusion, and the puzzling, improbable clues multiply, Teddy begins to doubt everything - his memory, his partner, even his own sanity.

The best bit however is the twist at the end, which I hope to not spoil for you.

Anyway, being a hospital for the criminally insane post WWII it's hardly an unusual propostition that you would see someone who is Manic-Depressive (BiPolar)...which of course you do. It got me wondering if Zak equated me with the Manic-Depressive in the movie, or if he hadn't connected the dots between A and B. Most likely he hasn't noticed the link. Which is quite sweet in a way...makes me feel that little bit more normal. LOL, on the other hand if he did link A and B, then I ought to feel quite insulted!

The BiPolar person isn't exhibiting symptoms aside from her psychotic break makes me wonder if Hollywood even bothers to research the illnesses they are trying to portray. It is however, quite obvious they seized upon the two illnesses that are well known to the public to help authenticate the Insane Asylum image. I suppose that I should be thankful I'm not Schizophrenic, as they were tared with the "I'm covered in my own filth" brush. So much for social media trying to educate the masses about mental illness.

So, back to me (lol, anyone would think it's all I ever talk about). Hmmm, I wonder if I could behave as calmly as the bipolar person did in the movie when they killed their family...I honestly doubt it. After having listened to the accounts of friends who have also dealt with BiPolar psychotic breaks, I doubt that any of them could say the same either. Usually there are lots of tears, shouting, rocking back and forth, clinging to loved ones begging them to stop the insanity...hardly any of which was evident in the movie version of a BiPolar break. Although I suppose since this scene was such a tiny part within the whole of the movie, I could cut them a little slack.

I suppose that if taken solely as a movie thriller, and not an accurate portrayal of mental illness (which is the position I ought to take) this movie captures exactly what Hollywood intended it to.  After all would people really want to go to the movies to see real life? 

Here's to the escapisim of movies, the knowledge that the good guys always win, Santa always arrives before the sun comes up, the funny guy gets the girl, kisses are accompanied by fireworks, and that everything is wrapped up in just over two hours.

Happy viewing!

Kate

For the love of deafies...

Hello,

This is a quick video post for all those like myself who are deaf enough to mis-hear every song and conversation.

Cheers Kate

Oh so in to cats (Fall Out Boy) - watch more funny videos

Death

Hello, 

I was just trawling through blogland, because Kelly suggested a link between Alice in Wonderland and bipolar, and of course that turned up a heap of bipolar blogs with people expressing their take on the subject.

Now this post isn't actually about Alice in Wonderland, although I may save that topic for another post down the line...this is about a video I saw on The Trouble with Spikol . Basically Spikol was talking about the allure of having a terminal illness since it would wrap up her life nicely, and that the way people view life and death is highly subjective due to their experiences.

Now here are my thought's on the subject:

I have never thought about wanting a terminal illness, but that is probably because I'm the daughter of a nurse...although I can certainly understand the appeal of it as it was described as "wrapping everything else up nicely". A huge benefit would be to surviving family, knowing that you hadn't taken your own life. Thereby circumventing all the ill feelings they would have to reconcile as they dealt with you actively choosing not to be in their lives any longer.

Now as you know, I'm fairly well medicated and live an almost stress free life so that my mood swings are mostly under control...but that doesn't mean that the very first thought 98% of my mornings isn't "I wish I was dead.". I've also lived though enough depressions now that I know that if I can make it through each day, eventually the depression will lift.

I joke about life with my family, and that I'm aiming to be 125 years old...they all think I'm crazy for wanting to be a decrepit old person for that long. However I look at it as make up time for all the crappy bit's that I haven't been able to live because I haven't been able to enjoy my life.

I have a Do Not Resucitate order known to my family if my brain or organs are damaged enough to not function for whatever reason. lol, but i'd also like to be stuffed with movable limbs, so that my family can keep me around forever.

So I suppose I'm stuck half wanting to be in this world and half not wanting to be here. I've done my best to limit the impact I have on the world, so that my ups and downs create as little mess as possible. I'm not having kids because that's unfair to them, although I love my neice and nephew to bits, and would miss them if they stopped coming to stay every week. All of which I've expressed many times before. I certainly try to live a full life within the limits I've set for myself. There are things I regret, but there have also been many unexpected pleasures that have resulted from the way I live.

So, Spikol has an ongoing thought in her head about how nicely things would be wrapped up if she were to die that way. Myself, I can't combobulate terminal illness as an answer for my life...the accompanying pain for a start throws up a flag, and has me asking do I really want to make things worse before they get better? Personally I can think of far more pleasurable ways to spend the last days of my life, and then round it all of with a quick death. That of course has me putting my own needs before others...Spikol's tidy death put's others needs before her own, but if you're going to go down that path then you may as well bite the bullet and keep on living. Which defeats the purpose of an early death.

I know that occasionally in the depths of a depression I've thought that everyone would be better off if I wasn't around, but the fact is I'd be depriving all the people I know of my wonderful presence. I have friends and family who actively seek to spend time with me, so therefore there must be something about me that they see as being beneficial to their lives. So, even if I can't see the point in me being here, they can...which I suppose is the ultimate reason for me still being around.

The only other reason, could be that there is something I'm meant to discover and share with the world, lol, but I hardly see that happening any time soon.

Hmmm, I wonder if I did discover something and spread the word about it, if I'd up sticks and die the next day? My purpose in the world having been fulfilled, and all that? I wonder how many people die thinking that? Maybe I should go and hang out in terminally ill wards, just so I can hear the pearls of wisdom that tidily wrap up other peoples lives. I may discover the meaning to the life the universe and everything. Although most of the nurses i've listened to in my life, probably wouldn't recommend that...and I can't say that they have any more answers than the rest of us.

Did you know that combobulate isn't really a word? Discombobulate is, but apparently it came about fully formed. It's derived from words akin to discomposed, discomfit and other words of like. Although combobulate could make it into the english lexicon, if enough people were to use it...such is the beauty of the english language.

Yet again I've waffled on and off topic, as is my wont. So I'll leave it at that...and prepare the easter egg hunt for the kids in the morning (well in a couple of hours time actually).

Cheerio,

Kate

Anti-war ditty vs welcome home ditty.

Hello!

Well, I discovered this song when I was looking for the lyrics to 'When Johnny comes marching home' (which found myself humming as I was playing games on facebook). It's an older song to the same tune, and luckily for me I discovered Bob Dylan singing it...which makes so much sense when you consider the times and politics Bob would have held at the time he recorded it, since it's an anti-war/anti-recruiting song.

Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye - written in the early 1800's

While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy
A stick in me hand and a drop in me eye
A doleful damsel I heard cry,
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Chorus:
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns
The enemy nearly slew ye
Oh my darling dear, Ye look so queer
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild
When my heart you so beguiled
Why did ye run from me and the child
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run
When you went for to carry a gun
Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home
All from the island of Sulloon
So low in flesh, so high in bone
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg
Ye're an armless, boneless, chickenless egg
Ye'll have to put with a bowl out to beg
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again
But they never will take our sons again
No they never will take our sons again
Johnny I'm swearing to ye.

Basically it's about Irish conscripts who went to fight in Ceylon (Sri Lanka) for the British East India Company, and the devastation to the families back home who weren't returned whole men. Thus serving a reminder to all young lads who were off to seek adventure, that they weren't guaranteed a life free from harm, or a body capable of work when they returned home.

Now when you compare this song to When Johnny Comes Marching Home, by Patrick Gilmore, you get quite a different sense of war. It is more a song of triumph and welcoming. Never mentioning what could happen to the men's bodies during the American Civil War, but rather celebrating the fact they've made it home. I'm sure many a family of the time wished this about their sons, fathers, brothers, uncles and nephews...it must have been a bitter pill to swallow for all those who had loved ones who never returned, or rued the day that their men were crippled. It's a song quite filled with the hope of seeing everyone return home safe and sound (which is why I often sing it to myself). I certainly feel it's an odd juxtaposition between the songs. One warning of the dangers of war, whilst the other celebrates the returning of soldiers in such a triumphant manner that it almost causes you to forget the dangers in participating in battles.

Just for comparison here are the words by Patrick Gilmore written in 1862.

When Johnny comes marching home again 
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll give him a hearty welcome then
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The men will cheer and the boys will shout
The ladies they will all turn out
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.
The old church bell will peal with joy
Hurrah! Hurrah!
To welcome home our darling boy,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The village lads and lassies say
With roses they will strew the way,
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.
Get ready for the Jubilee,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll drink him a toast or two or three,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The laurel wreath is ready now
To place upon his loyal brow
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.
Let love and friendship on that day,
Hurrah, hurrah!
Their choicest pleasures then display,
Hurrah, hurrah!
And let each one perform some part,
To fill with joy the warrior's heart,
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.

Now that I've heard the earlier song, I think I'll sing it's words instead, as it surely reflects my own opinions of war more succinctly.

Kate

An Irish Blessing...and only one day late.

I know that yesterday was St. Patrick's day, but I didn't really feel the need to say anything about it until I saw a partial poem on facebook.

It was of this traditional blessing:

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

May God be with you and bless you:
May you see your children's children.
May you be poor in misfortune,
Rich in blessings.
May you know nothing but happiness
From this day forward.

May the road rise up to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the warm rays of sun fall upon your home
And may the hand of a friend always be near.

May green be the grass you walk on,
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.

Oh and while I'm at it I'll include this nice little poem about death:

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow, I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush, I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight, I am the star shine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom, I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing, I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there. I do not die.

I have a feeling the last one was read out at Nonna's funeral...but I can't honestly recall because I was so lost in missing her.

Either way, neither have anything much to do with St. Patrick, and not being Irish Catholic, all I can say about him is that I think his legend goes along the line; When he brought Christianity to Ireland, he also drove out all the snakes ridding the isle of those devilish beasties. Which I'm sure you'll agree is a long way from the beer swilling day of green faces that we associate him with today.

If you were drinking yesterday I hope you enjoyed your pints, and are not feeling green this morning.

Hooroo, Kate

Kittens

Hi everyone, 

I just found this posted on a random blog and it amused me so much I've decided to repost it for all of you. I love the mother cat followed by the kitten comment. In another shot, the stage directions for the camera operator and following sound effects are pretty funny. 

Have a giggle, go on, you know you want to!

Kate

Edited 19th March:

I just watched this again and had to comment that the pornstar music for the kitty is a little disturbing, lol. I hope she heard it on that dodgy deodorant ad...cause that would be truely freaky otherwise!

Violence

Hi,

I know that heading may well put people off reading (or perhaps incite people to read), but really I just want to pose some questions and perhaps formulate some theories.

Looking back on my childhood, Trick and I had some really good fights, but mostly there was just a little violence towards each other as we vented frustrations. The worst examples were; one broken bone (a toe), bruised kidneys, an egg on the head, and perhaps four destructions of property, over an eighteen year period. There were household rules; no kicking, biting, hair pulling, or hitting below the belt (or boobs)...and generally if it was a big fight we had to take it outside. Which usually resulted in a phone call from a grand parent who lived a paddock away wanting to know why hell had broken loose (and many shameful explanation's of our behaviour)? So mostly we just hit each other in the arms or chest (pre-boobs)...which I'm sure you'll agree is reasonably good for siblings? And as previously cited, only occured until we were about 18-20 years old.

So my first question is why did the violence stop?

Was it because we realised that no-one really won when we both walked away sore? Or perhaps we'd reached a level of maturity that let us solve our problems verbally without violence? Perhaps our maturity had curtailed the niggling, button pushing behaviour that caused the fights in the first place? Or were we more involved with people outside of the closed family unit, that had us so mentally stimulated that we didn't feel the need to use tension for excitement? Perhaps it was the fact that we could just walk away if we got fed up with our sibling, and no-one would question where we were going as adults?

So now that I've pondered those possibilities, I also have another question. Why am I so intolerant of young people who resort to violence to solve their problems (just as Trick and I did)? Am I being old and cranky because it's a phase I've grown out of? Or am I judging people for not having grown  out of it by the ages that Trick and I did? Or am I rising up against being subjected to pain, when I expect people to respond to ribbing from me with the same in return, or with a voiced complaint expressing that they've had enough?

There is also another behaviour that I have observed recently, which is foreign to my upbringing. That of the pouty flounce out of the room, followed by the return to make a parting shot either physically or verbally. Now, am I being an old Fogey in thinking this is childish behaviour for an adult (albeit a young one)...is this too a behaviour that I can expect someone to grow out of? Or does this behaviour need to be pointed out, before the actee can address the lack of maturity shown by their actions? Can I, an acquaintance, pull this person up by the boot straps, or should that be left to one of their own elder family members? Or should I just write this person off, and warn friends and family to steer clear of them?

All puzzling questions to me. Some of which, I shall cogitate on a while longer.

Till next time...

Kate

Bright Eyes

There used to be a clip on the ABC down here when I was a little tacker, that always glued me to the screen...it was a realistic drawn clip of rabbits frolicking in a copse, set to Simon and Garfunkle's Bright Eyes...and search as I might I can only find the clips based on the movie rather than the realistic clip they used to play. So rather than subject you to cartoon bunnies, I've opted for this clip that shows the lyrics. I hope you enjoy it.

lol, as a side note if anyone sends me a text, my phone also plays Bright Eyes. Yep, I love it that much!

It's sad, but I've always found my soul feels a little lighter after hearing it.

I think I'm having an hankering for a pet bunny, with their soft wrinkly noses,  furry muzzles, and velvet ears.

Cheers Kate

Some songs for you...

I was going to post these two songs last night, but couldn't because I was having trouble loading the EDIT HTML not loading for me...however I read up on the problem and have found that reverting to the 'old editor' under the settings tab, is a temporary solution. Anyway here they are :)

Feeling Good - Sung by Nina Simone

Birds flying high you know how I feel
Sun in the sky you know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel

(refrain:)x2
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

Fish in the sea you know how I feel
River running free you know how I feel
Blossom on the tree you know how I feel

(refrain)

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know
Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean
Sleep in peace when day is done
That's what I mean

And this old world is a new world
And a bold world
For me

Stars when you shine you know how I feel
Scent of the pine you know how I feel
Oh freedom is mine
And I know how I feel

(refrain)

Here comes the Sun - The Beatles (George Harrison)

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
It's all right

Well that's it for tonight. I liked the vid, for Feeling Good, which was an assignment for Tamara's motion graphics course. It's simple, strong and striking :)

See you all on the flip side!

Secrets.

Well here I am again in the middle of the night blogging.


It's been a bit of a bugger this last month, as I haven't been able to blog about something major. So this is going to be the blog about secrets. 


What do you do when you're told something huge and are then sworn to secrecy? Something that people would kill to find out, or something that so rocks your world that you can not keep it in? 


Apparently I must have a sign on my forehead that blinks in neon telling others to confide in me. Now it's nice that people feel that they can trust me, but it's also a huge burden. I'm subject to the same foibles as everyone else, perhaps even more than most?


I'd love to say that I can keep any secret anywhere, anytime, but that is just not true. I feel sick spilling the beans, and like I've cheated people by abasing their trust. I know that I've been known to tell secrets purely to have a laugh at someone else's expense, which not only abuses trust, but also shows how inferior I feel at times. I feel bad that I can stoop so low as to build myself up on someone else's misfortune. I'm ashamed that I stoop to bullying behaviour. Ashamed that I would willingly subject someone else to behaviour that I loathed to be at the mercy of. I'd love to say "Ah well, I'm only human." thus letting myself off the hook...surely as a mature adult I'm meant to be able to rise above such behaviour, treating everyone I meet with compassion and kindness. LOL, I know it's something I spout off about here often enough! Is it any wonder this is something I beat myself up over?


*sigh* it's obviously a personality fault I'm not going to be able to solve in this short post.


Well, that self attack aside, there was more that I intended to write about in this post. So on with the story...


What happens when someone tells you something that rips your world apart and forces you to chose a stance which declares who you are as a person? Say a friend arrives at your house one day and  says they work in the local gas chamber where thousands are killed everyday...and that YOU MUST KEEP THIS A SECRET, because your friend will be killed if anyone else knows. What do you do? How do you cope with the burden of knowing something so terrible? Are you allowed to tell someone else that you trust not to let the bosses or the public know, just so that you're not shouldering this burden on your own? Did your friend tell you just so that they weren't suffering alone under the weight of the secret? Does your sense of what is right and honest declare to the world that horrifying things are happening in your town, or do you keep your secret to save the life of your friend? Perhaps you will also be killed for telling someone else the secret? Perhaps all the people who enter the gas chamber are there of their own free will, and your saying something ends their ability to participate in euthanasia? Whatever you decide to do with this secret irrevocably declares your stance on the killings. Whatever the outcome, you have made a decision about whether or not to kill your friend...and certainly altering the world view of the any people that you do tell. You may also have saved thousands of lives, or perhaps none at all depending upon who you've chosen to share this secret with. If you shared your secret with someone else who will keep the secret with you, have you been unfair in forcing them to have to make that choice?


I suppose what I'm trying to illustrate with that scenario is whether or not keeping a secret is selfish? Whether you are selfish or selfless all depends upon who you are in that scenario...I suppose that whomever ends up dying because of your choice regarding the secret would see you as selfish...and even if you did spill the beans and manage to not have anyone die you may still be seen as selfish by the people who wanted the gas chamber operating in the first place.


I suppose that is where morals and ethics come into play...you make the decision that you hope will be best. There will always be someone who isn't happy with the way things have played out, and you just have to live with the consequences of your actions.


*sigh* I think I've come to the conclusion that I hate secrets. My life would be so much easier to live if people didn't tell me things. I want to be an ostrich and stick my head in the sand...frankly I'd prefer to have my bum eaten by a lion than to make any more life altering decisions, due to someone else confiding in me!


lol, perhaps I'll have a shirt made up to say just that...or a tattoo on my forehead? Or at the very least I could smash the neon sign that's flashing away up there?


Cheers, Kate