A Day In The Life Of A Cat

And now it is time for Her Supreme Grace the cat to have her say.

7:21 AM. Waking up at home. Taking a big stretch. Sounds of the staff upstairs getting herself ready for the day. Now then, this being a weekend, that means she’s at home and can thus cater to my every whim as needed. So much the better. I expect belly rubs.

7:23 AM. A look out the front windows. Light snow. Early this year. I expect that might mean we’ll have a long winter. The staff, for whatever reason, will be filling bird feeders all season long, which will give me plenty of chances to gaze out at flying lunches. 

7:27 AM. The staff finally comes downstairs. Well, there you are, staff. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but I’ve been busily expecting breakfast in the six very long minutes since I woke up. Now don’t you dare disappoint me.

7:31 AM. Settling down to breakfast. Milk and tuna suit me nicely. For whatever reason, the staff persists in putting down a bowl of field rations as well. I shall ignore that to my heart’s content.

7:36 AM. Demanding that the door be open. I feel like getting a breath of fresh air, staff, but rest assured, I won’t be going far, so don’t get any ideas about going out and running errands, is that understood? First, I do not want to be locked outside for hours on end. Second, I expect you to spend the day spoiling me rotten and catering to my whims. So do we have an understanding here or what?

7:41 AM. Sitting out on the deck, surveying the vastness of my domain. All is well in my world. Which, unfortunately, is often when something goes horribly wrong, like that annoying mutt startling me, or a surprise visit to the vet, or those idiot relations of my staff showing up uninvited.

7:44 AM. I can hear the distant barking of that irritating hound off somewhere. Perhaps chasing his tail, as dogs are given to do. I really don’t understand dogs. They are a peculiar and perplexing bundle of weirdness. I suppose it’s possible they think the same thing about us.

7:55 AM. Listening to the dog’s continued barking. Much more irritated, much less happy in tone. Which probably means he’s just had a near encounter with a squirrel, which must be laughing at him right this minute. I’d bet catnip on it.

7:58 AM. Continuing to listen to the frantic barks of that irritating hound. Musing on the animosity dogs have towards squirrels. Well, if you hunted them stealthily as opposed to running straight at them and barking your bloody heads off, you might actually catch one, but no, that never occurs to you, does it?

8:05 AM. The dog continues to bark in the distance. Obviously hasn’t given up yet. If you ask me, and of course you are asking me, dogs are so rarely capable of wisdom. Oh, there are rarities, such as that other dog in the area. At least he shows deference and respects my boundaries. Though I have no idea why he thinks Spike, Tormentor of Squirrels, is a good title to carry around in the world.

8:09 AM. The barking has quieted down. Perhaps the annoying mutt has finally given up. 

8:12 AM. Up on the window sill, meowing incessantly, demanding to be let back in. Staff! Open the back door, this instant!

8:13 AM. The staff finally gets around to opening my door and letting me in. I deliver a head bonk to the legs to express my approval.

8:37 AM. Settling down for a nap. One can never have too many naps in a day, right?

11:41 AM. Waking up from my nap. Feeling rather peckish. Well, it is getting near lunch.

11:43 AM. Irritated to discover that my staff has left the premises somehow without my waking up, let alone without my express permission. As I am feeling hungry, I hesitantly settle the matter by eating some of those field rations.

1:27 PM. Staring out the front windows. Waiting on the staff’s return. Brooding. Brooding. And brooding some more.

1:35 PM. I can hear the sounds of that annoying mutt barking again in the distance. From the direction, it sounds like he’s at home, and he’s very annoyed. I’d be annoyed if I were a dog too, but for me to be  a dog, it would mean I’d taken a terrible tumble from my rightful place in the world as a supreme being. Namely a cat.

1:44 PM. The dog is still barking. Careful, or you’ll use up your daily quota of barks.

2:03 PM. The staff finally comes home, bearing grocery bags. It’s about time, staff, and I might say that it is very bad manners of you to sneak out without telling me, or getting my permission to leave. That said, you’re back, so we have one important matter to settle. Did you get anything for me? 

2:06 PM. Up on the kitchen table, inspecting grocery bags while the staff puts things away. Wait a minute. Why on earth did you buy kale?

6:07 PM. Supervising the staff while she makes dinner. For some reason she’s cutting up that kale. Just as long as she doesn’t expect me to eat it. Honestly, that’s rabbit food, staff. Humans can be such perplexing life forms at times. And by at times, I mean... pretty much all the time.

6:29 PM. Dinner with the staff. She’s having that kale nonsense with her steak. I am contenting myself with strips of steak. Being generous and a benevolent higher life form, I have decided she can have all the kale she wants. Besides, as we all know, steak rules, kale doesn’t make you drool. Or something like that.

6:55 PM. Keeping an eye on the staff while she does dishes. One must watch humans very closely, after all. Even if it’s just to annoy them by making them think you’re plotting something diabolical. Even when you’re not.

8:03 PM. Pondering the great mysteries of life. What came first? The cat or the purr?

11:33 PM. The staff is off to bed. Keep the door open for me, is that understood? I fully expect to be jumping up on you at three in the morning, and don’t want to be inconvenienced by a closed door. 

One Cranky Witness For The Prosecution

Author And Accused Murderer To Stand Trial; Grouchy Investigator Snarls At Media

Calgary (CP). She was once one of the most esteemed authors in the mystery novelist circuit. She was a fixture of the community wherever she went. She was seen as a kindly grandmotherly type who enjoyed sticking her nose into police investigations for no reason whatsoever. Now she stands accused of multiple counts of murder in what might well become the first of many murder trials for the accused, in multiple countries. As it turns out, it begins in Canada, where several recent cases of murder during her extended stay have been attributed to her.

Jessica Fletcher, the famous mystery novelist and most famed resident of the small town of Cabot Cove, Maine, was arrested in May, charged with ten counts of murder in the first degree, and has been held without bail ever since. Investigators across the world have been comparing murder cases to those found in a secret journal the author kept in her home, and the numbers of murders she’s been implicated in continue to rise.

She was arrested by Mounties during an author’s meet and greet event. The author had been living on a temporary basis in the Calgary area doing research for a new book, during a period in which a series of brutal slayings took place. The path led the RCMP, who had the lead on the case, to make that stunning arrest, which was personally carried out by the lead investigator in the case- the legendary RCMP Inspector Lars Ulrich.

The man himself, frequently the bane of many an entertainment reporter’s existence (or vice versa), has very little patience for reporters, even the real ones. As for the entertainment reporters, they have a tendency to wear down his proverbial last nerve, and he’s cut a swath of destruction and broken bones among their ranks over the years. That’s been more than offset by multiple acts of the grouchy Mountie saving the world- from mad scientists, murderous Muppets, super-villains, dark cabals, and Russian tyrants. He’s also shown a tendency to pick fights with thousands of Tea Party fanatics, or to make Godzilla run away in panic and fear.

Fletcher still has her supporters. Her legions of fans refuse to believe the allegations against her and have picketed courthouses in Calgary anytime there have been legal proceedings. The trial, set for next year, will no doubt attract many more of them. “This is a set up!” Alexandra McCoy of Des Moines, Iowa, told reporters outside the courthouse today. The suspect was inside, going through a preliminary hearing. “A total set-up! And those Mounties are in on it! Just because she writes plotlines about killing people doesn’t mean she’s a murderer! You’d have to be totally devious and without a conscience to go from writing to actually killing people, not to mention framing other people for her own acts! And that’s not our Jessica! She’s the grandma you wish you could have, baking cookies and brownies and always with a smile on her face! Free Jessica now! This is an outrage!”

More fans cheered what McCoy had to say. One of them, a long time fan later identified as Hugo Cavendish, took control of the crowd, yelling, “what do we want?”

The crowd roared back, “Jessica free and clear!”

Cavendish yelled, “When do we want it?”

“Now!” the Fletcherites yelled back.

This reporter wondered how many times a variation on that chant had been used. The crowd started singing Kumbayah and holding hands as they encircled the courthouse, leaving this reporter, among others, rolling his eyes and musing that the person who originally wrote that song should have ideally been a murder victim of the Deceptive Novelist, as some have been calling Fletcher since the arrest.

The case continues to build in places across the world, where convictions are being appealed, with many prosecutors wondering if the people they put behind bars because of Jessica Fletcher’s involvement in those cases are guilty or not. Names have been compared to what has become a very notorious secret journal, and police investigators in many jurisdictions are revisiting old case files. “We’ve never seen anything like it,” Detective Mallory Hudson, a member of the Bangor Police Homicide squad told reporters. “The numbers connected to this suspect just keep going up. Thousands of deaths, all connected to her. It might take years to sort out what she’s really done, and let’s face it, she’s an elderly woman, she could be gone long before it’s all figured out.”

Sheriff Angus Tupper, son of another Sheriff Tupper of Cabot Cove, both of whom had worked with Fletcher in an informal capacity over the years, has been quiet since the case broke, participating in the investigation, finding the journal in the author’s house. It’s been said that the Sheriff is fuming that he and his father had been hoodwinked for decades by a serial killer in their midst.

For now, possession is nine tenths of the law, and Fletcher is in Canadian hands, standing trial for Canadian murders. Any other proceedings will simply have to wait. This reporter attended the hearing, where Crown prosecutors were making arguments to the judge, countered by Fletcher’s attorney, Eve Simpson, a Cabot Cove resident. Fletcher’s baffled looking nephew Grady Fletcher was in attendance as well, sitting behind his aunt, who seemed bored.

There was someone else in attendance, sitting behind the prosecutors. Inspector Lars Ulrich, looking as gruff and annoyed as ever, was sitting in his work uniform, as opposed to the red serge so many people associate with Mounties. He is already expected to be one of the primary witnesses for the prosecution at the trial next year. This reporter, knowing well the mood and temperament of the brave but furiously dangerous Mountie, left him alone. Ulrich sat quietly through the proceedings. Late in the hearing, with attorneys arguing back and forth, the suspect looked his way, catching his eye. And then out of nowhere, she screeched, “Your head on a pike, Ulrich! Your head on a pike!”

Fletcher was taken out by officers of the court, ranting and roaring. Ulrich was completely calm and disregarding of the threat. He left the courtroom, followed by those reporters who had been attending the hearing. Out in the hall were more- real reporters and the entertainment reporters, who had come up because of Fletcher’s fame as an author. For a moment there was silence. It was followed by Ulrich’s sigh of exasperation and grumbles of irritation. And then it was followed by a roar of questions. Ulrich looked decidedly annoyed.

One of the entertainment reporters somehow made his voice heard over everyone else. “Lars! Lars! Brad Janson, Access Hollywood. What everyone wants to know, Lars, is will Metallica be doing a theme song for the murder trial, and will it be featured on the Burst Eardrums tour? And second, why aren’t you out on tour with the rest of the band?”

The real reporters backed up, eager to not be caught in the proverbial Wrath Of Lars. Ulrich glared at him. That made even more reporters back up- including Janson’s cameraman, who seemed smarter than the correspondent. The Inspector spoke in a low, threatening tone. “I am not that Lars Ulrich.”

Janson seemed confused; that is a common problem among entertainment reporters, it seems, in this reporter’s opinion. Perhaps they were dropped on their heads too many times as infants. Perhaps their mothers were fond of drinking during pregnancy. “Are you sure?”

Ulrich’s response was one hard punch to his face. It sent Janson hurtling down the hall and crashing down onto the floor. He didn’t have time to complain- the Inspector was already heading his way. Whatever sense of self preservation sent him to his feet, and Janson started running, the Inspector at his heels, both of them crashing right through the ring of Jessica Fletcher fans. At last report, Ulrich had chased Janson up into Dead Man’s Canyon, where panicked echoes could be heard ringing through the harsh and unforgiving landscape:  I thought you were the Metallica drummer!

Last Charge Of The Drunken Hobbit

Some links to see to before we get started today. Yesterday was a Snippet Sunday, so we had a post on our blog. Krisztina had her pic of the week from a visit to Gettysburg. And Shelly writes about an experience with a snake.

Now then, it's a movie review for me to take on today...

"Are we destined to destroy each other, or can we change each other and unite? Is the future truly set?"  ~ Charles Xavier

"There is a new enemy out there: mutants. You need a new weapon for this war." ~ Bolivar Trask

Director Bryan Singer returns again to the cinematic world of the X-Men in the new film X-Men: Days Of Future Past. It is drawn from the storyline by Chris Claremont, arguably the definitive writer of that corner of the Marvel Universe. In both comics and film, the story is about time travel and trying to undo an apocalyptic future in which everything has gone wrong. It brings back multiple X-Men from previous films, some of whom are in different time periods being played by different actors. It picks up plot threads from previous films, while taking us in a new direction and bringing us a new and unlikely villain. 

Things open up a few years in the future, with robots called Sentinels hunting mutants and making life difficult for regular humans. Society's become one of those dark, dystopian realms that are so popular in fiction these days. Some of the surviving mutants are working with Kitty Pryde (Ellen Page, a previous castmember of one of the films). Kitty and her team meet up with Charles Xavier (Patrick Stewart) and Magneto (Ian McKellan). The two old adversaries have had to come together.  And considering Xavier was blasted into oblivion in the events of X-Men The Last Stand, he's looking pretty good. 

They have themselves a plan to undo this turn of events, and it involves sending the essence of one of their own into the past to try to reset the timeline. Everything seems to have gone wrong with the assassination of industrialist Bolivar Trask (Peter Dinklage, Game of Thrones, The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian), an act committed by Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence, reprising the role she started playing in X-Men First Class). Trask designed the Sentinels in the first place, and it's thought that his death was the trigger for everything that followed. The individual whose consciousness will be sent back into his younger self? Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), sometimes known as the Drunken Hobbit (what can I say, the only version of the character I can tolerate is Jackman's take on him... the comics version is really, really, really annoying). Xavier and Magneto urge him to seek out their younger selves, played again by James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, to thwart the dark future that has come upon them all.

Singer directed the first couple of these films, starting back in 2000 with X-Men. He also had a hand in the production of the back in the past X-Men First Class. In this case he's returned to the director's helm and taken on one of the big stories in X-Men comic history. Claremont's story holds up well, altered somewhat by the screenwriters- Logan, for example, was never the character sent back in time. The story bounces back and forth between the dark future and the 1970s (rendered with the appalling fashion tastes on full display), and yet we never seem lost in the process. The story also gives us quite a few familiar faces from previous films, while introducing new mutants, and yet the sea of faces doesn't feel overwhelming. Singer paces the movie well, keeping things from slowing down while also respecting the themes of the core story, the dark and nightmare future, the unintended consequences of a character's actions, and how far a person can go before they're broken. Singer's crew does their work well. Once again the Mystique body paint look is remarkable- one can only imagine Jennifer Lawrence's patience each day with having that done. But beyond that, it applies to every details. The Sentinels look as ominous as you'd expect them to look from the comics. The dark future looks and feels malevolent. Special effects for the various mutant abilities come across very well, particularly in the case of Magneto- more than once do we see moments involving the character that are jaw dropping. And the 1970s are rendered in detail that feels true to the period, from technology that looks ancient in comparison to the presence of a certain "I Am Not A Crook" president mucking up the works. 

The cast is back in fine form, from more than one timeline. Aside from some of those mentioned, we meet some of the X-Men we've seen before, such as Storm (Halle Berry), Iceman (Shawn Ashmore), and Colossus (Daniel Cudmore). They're back in familiar territory, playing the parts once again as if it's been a brief time since we saw them last. There are new faces as well- Blink, Sunspot, Bishop, and Warpath are all new faces here, but quite welcome. We even have a new actor playing a part we've seen before. Josh Helman plays an even younger William Stryker, the man who uses mutants and yet hates them; we've seen the character played before in different time periods by Brian Cox and Danny Huston. Helman brings across the character's military code and beneath the surface malevolence in his performance. Ellen Page, who's previously played the role in X-Men The Last Stand, gets to play Kitty as a decisive leader, a far step beyond her initial presence in the film franchise as a student. Peter Dinklage, who's busy in that series featuring dark ages fantasy, rough sex, extreme violence, and backstabbing betrayals otherwise known as Game of Thrones might seem as an unlikely choice as Bolivar Trask, but he's actually an inspired choice. He plays the part with a certain degree of arrogance, balanced out by the personality of a man who strives for respect. And what's the best part of his performance is that he plays it as a man who believes he's doing good in the world, even though that good is in fact an awful thing. As a villain, he's a compelling one.

Jennifer Lawrence returns again as Mystique, the ferocious shapeshifter mutant who has been in the first three films played by Rebecca Romijn. She plays the part as someone dedicated to her mission in life, more jaded than we saw her play the part in X-Men First Class. She believes in what she's doing, even though she can't see the consequences of that. Lawrence embodies the character well once again, giving her depth. And obviously we can't take our eyes off her- both actresses have had the chance to play this eye catching role. Nicholas Hoult returns to the role of Beast, a character he also played in X-Men First Class. This is the younger version of the character, still as bright and prone to chatter as ever. Hoult plays the character in a way that feels true to who he is in the comics as well. Hugh Jackman returns as Wolverine, his seventh time (including a cameo in X-Men First Class) playing the character. He conveys the gruffness of the character as you'd expect; Jackman knows this character well by now. He's ferocious and courageous, a fighter who finds himself somewhat out of his element back in the past. 

That leaves us with two characters, played by four men. Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellan started playing Xavier and Magneto back in X-Men in 2000, and took on the essence of two former friends turned adversaries. Here we have them in a dark future, where they see that the choices they made might not have been for the better good. They both give their roles the dignity and gravitas you'd expect from such actors. McAvoy and Fassbender established that friendship in X-Men First Class, only to see it torn asunder by film's end. When we find them in the past, things have changed for both men. Fassbender plays Magneto as a man cornered and trapped when we first find him again in the past, but it's only made him more entrenched, more invested in his antagonism towards mainstream humanity. Fassbender conveys the inner pain of Magneto well, as he has done before. McAvoy puts a different spin on Xavier than what we saw in his first performance. His Xavier has lost the bulk of his first set of students in one way or another, and it's left him bitter and cynical, without hope. He's a wounded man. And there's a moment of contact between the two Xaviers across time that comes across as one of the best scenes in the movie.

X-Men Days Of Future Past does the original source story proud. It's a breathtaking action thriller that spans the decades and yet doesn't get us lost in all of the action, the characters, and the bouncing around in time aspect of the story. It deals with themes like arrogance, estranged friendships, and the consequences of ill considered actions. Oh, sure, we have to put up with horrible looking fashions (have I mentioned the Seventies were a blight on fashion?), but that's a small thing. It's a thrill ride that still grounds itself in good characterization.

Even with a Drunken Hobbit.