And Another day of almost nothing
Oct. 29th, 2007 11:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kitewithfishLet's see: the daily recounting.
I woke to the knock of a neighbor on the door for my roomie, who had overslept. She had to run out the door to get to class, and (as so often happens) she forgot her room keycard. So, she called me and asked me to be around the building to let her in at a certain time. Then, she called me about an hour and a half later (two hours earlier than she said she would need me back) and I had to run home from Starbucks to let her in. I was a little annoyed- I had gone to Starbucks with the expectation of being able to sit there for a few hours and reading in peace. (It is socially acceptable to buy a single coffee and then stay in a Kaffeehaus for three hours, but I feel weird trying to study there, and I like the coffee at Starbucks. It's good and large.)
After running home, I went to the store (a couple of times actually) and got food- I've made myself a rice/chicken/veggie thing that should feed me and Karel tomorrow without too much pain for dinner, and maybe the day after too.
After dinner, I went over to Colleen's to watch "Der Untergang", the story of the last days of the Third Reich in Hiter's bunker. God, that was weird. The actors were... amazing, but it was so disturbing. They were sitting in this huge destructive storm that was ripping all of their hopes and dreams to shreds, and you could both see how they had painted themselves into the corner and how pitiful and monstrous they were too. I've never thought about Hitler's age when he died. He was 56, and he only got married the day before he shot himself. In the movie, he was an old man with some sort of weird hand spasm, clearly unable to get a grip on the reality of the situation that would hold: sometimes he'd collapse into melancholy, sometimes he would storm and claim that it was all a conspiracy and that he would rally his people. He was a pitiful old man, and if you didn't know what he was, that his ravings were real, the monstrosities he'd conceived, the pity you felt for him would be unalloyed.
The worst moment for me was the dog and the children. You see Hitler talking to a doctor with his dog Blondi tied to a toilet in the bathroom, and the doctor is explain how long it will take for the poison to take effect. Then they pry open the dog's jaws to put the capsule in with a metal clamp, and then hold her mouth closed to make her swallow, and I just look at it, and it's like "No! Don't hold her nose like that- they hate it when you do that! Why? She's just a dog, she doesn't need national socialism to survive- someone will just find her and feed her and she'll get a new owner." I mean, of all the possible characters in the film, the dog is really the only one that could get a total pass on being guilty or having any responsibility whatsoever, and he has them kill his dog.
I woke to the knock of a neighbor on the door for my roomie, who had overslept. She had to run out the door to get to class, and (as so often happens) she forgot her room keycard. So, she called me and asked me to be around the building to let her in at a certain time. Then, she called me about an hour and a half later (two hours earlier than she said she would need me back) and I had to run home from Starbucks to let her in. I was a little annoyed- I had gone to Starbucks with the expectation of being able to sit there for a few hours and reading in peace. (It is socially acceptable to buy a single coffee and then stay in a Kaffeehaus for three hours, but I feel weird trying to study there, and I like the coffee at Starbucks. It's good and large.)
After running home, I went to the store (a couple of times actually) and got food- I've made myself a rice/chicken/veggie thing that should feed me and Karel tomorrow without too much pain for dinner, and maybe the day after too.
After dinner, I went over to Colleen's to watch "Der Untergang", the story of the last days of the Third Reich in Hiter's bunker. God, that was weird. The actors were... amazing, but it was so disturbing. They were sitting in this huge destructive storm that was ripping all of their hopes and dreams to shreds, and you could both see how they had painted themselves into the corner and how pitiful and monstrous they were too. I've never thought about Hitler's age when he died. He was 56, and he only got married the day before he shot himself. In the movie, he was an old man with some sort of weird hand spasm, clearly unable to get a grip on the reality of the situation that would hold: sometimes he'd collapse into melancholy, sometimes he would storm and claim that it was all a conspiracy and that he would rally his people. He was a pitiful old man, and if you didn't know what he was, that his ravings were real, the monstrosities he'd conceived, the pity you felt for him would be unalloyed.
The worst moment for me was the dog and the children. You see Hitler talking to a doctor with his dog Blondi tied to a toilet in the bathroom, and the doctor is explain how long it will take for the poison to take effect. Then they pry open the dog's jaws to put the capsule in with a metal clamp, and then hold her mouth closed to make her swallow, and I just look at it, and it's like "No! Don't hold her nose like that- they hate it when you do that! Why? She's just a dog, she doesn't need national socialism to survive- someone will just find her and feed her and she'll get a new owner." I mean, of all the possible characters in the film, the dog is really the only one that could get a total pass on being guilty or having any responsibility whatsoever, and he has them kill his dog.
