I’ve always found Rutger Hauer’s speech at the end of Bladerunner really moving. I find it extra special to learn he ad-libbed it. Hard to put my finger on exactly what it is about it. The tragedy of the replicants’ early deaths? Sure, maybe, but I can barely remember the film apart from that part to be honest, so I’m pretty sure I wasn’t all that emotionally invested in their survival. I think it’s something to do with the magical things he’s seen.

Space. The infinite. Not just the infinite space, but the infinite possibilities.

It’s strange, I’m haven’t been the hugest fan of Sci-Fi reading – especially when compared with Fantasy Literature; I’ve often found it difficult to get over the overly technical writing style of a lot of it. Maybe I had a bad early experience and then wrote off way too much of it. In actuality the stuff I’ve attached to has been hugely affecting. Foundation lives in my bones – not the characters, but the concept. It’s attached the subtitle of “Decaying Empire” to my world-view lens, and now I feel like I can’t unsee it. Fnord.

Anyway, we went to see the new Bladerunner last night and I feel … well, no. 1 I feel a little tired because it’s a long movie and I didn’t then get to sleep ’till after 1am. But then I also feel “yay” for having escaped the house without children for a little while. And I feel like I scraped the rust off of some old emotional conduits of possibility and magic and future that had gone a little unused.

I found myself thinking this morning about creativity and how much I miss it, miss having vast swathes of open time to allow things to slowly mature and grow. Instead I’m subsistence farming out a Not Funny, Just True each week and barely even getting that out the door.

On that note, I know it’s Friday, but today’s link is not yet ready. In fact the morning’s time is cut far shorter than usual and I’m not even going to finish writing until after work this afternoon. I’ve just two more gulps of bitter invigorating coffee left to me, and even allowing that seems a little large of an indulgence given the numbered stressful tasks to getting everyone out the door.

So, saving this draft now for later.


Hi, it’s later.

Since we last spoke, I’ve worked a full day of teaching, drawn the outline of a picture, picked up children, done some shopping and hung out with the children a bit.

I don’t think we (me and G.) give ourselves credit for how much attention we do actually give to the boys. I guess because it’s often begrudged and I’m feeling like “but I want to be doing X right now, not fucking parenting or playing some godawful boring game”, so then we don’t count it. But there are actually a lot of small things we do right from time to time. Sometimes it’s something as small as sitting and holding them for 5-10 minutes while they watch their favourite show. Sometimes it can be even smaller and you only have to be physically present, because of the upfront time you’ve put in talking with them and doing the “deep” work.

Right now I’m sitting typing these words while the boys eat up their supper of sausages and garlic bread and watch My Little Pony. Barely 3 minutes passes without one of them needing some small bit of acknowledgement, attention or assistance (maybe we’re just rearing really needy children?), and usually that would bug the ever-living shite out of me, but tonight it’s fine. And because I’m fine with it, it feels like they’re actually being a lot less demanding than usual.

I’m often tired and peopled out by this time of the evening (as I’ve whined about at length before) and if we’re having an evening (like this one) where we’re not having a sit-down meal together I’ll often disappear off to my bedroom to read and eat snacks while the boys eat their meal. And then I’ll resent the fuck out of any interruptions they bring to my door.

But here I am tonight, a little prepared for their potential interruptions and demands for attention and they’re appearing less frequent. Maybe the kids get less needy when they sense that I’m actually present for them. Or maybe it’s my perceptions that get skewed when I’m irritated and feeling invaded.

I’m sure there’s a lesson in here, right?