So last year the American version of The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo was released with Daniel Craig (playing Mikael Blomkvist) and Rooney Mara (playing Lisbeth Salander) as the stars. Having seen the original Swedish version, I thought the American version would be more tame and toned down – oh how wrong I was. The rape scenes were much more intense (and had me cringing throughout), and the depictions of the rapes/killings that were committed by the murderer (as well as the near-rape of Blomkvist) were much more graphic than the Swedish version. Rooney played her role well, and definitely helped Salander seem more psychotic than her Swidish counterpart (played by Noomi Rapace). Daniel Craig also suited his role well – okay, maybe not as well as Michael Nyqvist did in the original- but hey, what can I say, I’m biased; dat body.
Would I suggest this movie to others:
Well, yes and no. I definitely think there are more worth while movies out there.
Rating: 6/10 (could have been worse)
I know I’ve been absent for an obscenely long time… I do apologize. Admittedly a lot has been going on in my life – but I’ve decided to start writing again! Er, not writing, but blogging. The content of my blog might change a little – I’m probably going to throw a little more stuff about music and gaming in, to.
So, to make a long story short – Over the past 8 months I’ve broken up with the guy I was with when I started the blog, attended two semesters of college, had a short relationship with the dickiest guy I have ever met (Dickiest? Is that even a word? I guess it is now.) , and got back together with my love of 3 years. I now have a job at Subway (making sammiches like every good woman should!) and have both quit and returned to WoW.
But! As my first returning post I’ll grace this page with a poem =D
Like a flower it blooms
Swelling as a great tide in my chest,
Pouring, rushing through me
Tumbling from my mouth in golden sound,
A song, a purest epiphany to the human mind.
Soaring as a great bird of prey,
Wind lifting my wings only to disappear from me again;
A magestic rollar coaster- exhilaration;
Twisting and jumping like a pup new to the world,
I rejoice in the joy that has grown within
Fed by the depths of our love.
It was a year after he died. A year since everything had changed. A year since he had scarified himself for the better of Barthae. A year since my life had been shattered.
Kneeling at his tomb, my memories took me back. Back to a time when everything was peaceful, when ashes didn’t cover the ground, or my heart. His image danced in front of my eyes, a strong young man practicing his sword measures, smiling at me from the courtyard. He asked nothing of me, took nothing for granted. Unspoken between us lay a river of emotion, powerful as the force of a storm.
The sound of footsteps brought me back from my revere. “Lisha. It’s time to go.” I turned to meet my butler, Marin. “It is growing dark, M’lady. We cannot stay here any longer – the forest is not safe after dark.”
I glanced back for a moment, my eyes scanning the plaque one last time.
“Even the greatest heroes must fall.
Your name will be spoken for generations to come.
Rest sweetly in the arms of death, son of kings,
Our prince in heaven,
I twirl around in circles.
Around and around and around,
Maybe I can fly after all.
I dance as if it was my last,
A swan soon to take wing.
Faster and faster,
Arms tilted upwards,
Softly I spin.
I am only what people see,
I am not, by any means a practiced Haiku writer. In the past, I found them too simplistic, too short. As I have become more experienced, their simple layout is what has become more and more appealing to my (what tends to be) simplistic poetry format.
Come dance with me,
The wind in the east calls us,
Our time is short.
I see tears in your ‘lone soul,
I stand here as your lover.
Ignore who I am,
What I have become is death,
Life is a trap.
“For Another Day”
Broken by the gods,
Here I lay crushed by death,
My story will remain.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged blood, cold, dance, darkness, death, gods, life, love, poetry, romance, soldier, soul, story
The planet is ruined,
Death stretches for miles without end.
Ashes fall like snow,
A blanket of grey covering blackened soil
Under a dark sky.
Meet mother earth,
Ruined and broken.
Enter the parade
Of tears and fire,
Another day of
Amrael awoke in a cold sweat, emotion still coursing through him. He lifted a hand to his cheek brushing away the hot tears pouring out of him. It was just a dream, probably brought on by his exertions the night before. He rolled out of bed, feeling his wounds throb painfully. After dressing hurriedly, he leapt out of the church window and made his way towards Thiru’s stall. This is stupid. He wove through the crowds, lost in thought. She’s just going to turn you away again.
Amrael felt a tug on his cloak, and he whirled around. “Sir, the Duke requests to see you. He says it’s important.” He glared down at the dirty urchin boy who had given him the message. “He did, did he?” “Yeah. ‘E says it can’t wait.” Amrael sighed inwardly. Aristocrats are so pushy. He nodded silently, and handed the boy a gold coin. The urchin grinned, and ran off, yelling a “Thanks!” behind him. I guess Thiru will have to wait until another time. She’ll be there when I get back. Unease knotted his stomach as he remembered the dream, then laughed at himself. It was a dream, nothing more.
“Amrael. There you are.” The duke stared placidly at the cloaked figure, his withered hands clasped around a chalice of red wine. Red, like Thiru’s blood… Amrael shook himself. This is not the time. Catching the motion, the Duke raised an eyebrow. Amrael gave him an apologetic look. “Long night.” The Duke glared, coughed, and continued. “Do you remember the task that I charged you a week ago?” Amrael nodded. “Very good. Then you remember what I agreed to give you in exchange?” Again, Amrael nodded. “I do.” “Excellent. I have summoned you here to give you a warning. There is an assassin that has been sent to take your life by one of your old enemies.” The Duke stroked his chin. “But of course, you don’t have to worry about that, do you?” His eyes took on a dangerous glitter. “Kill her.”
Posted in Prose
Tagged angel, assasin, gothic, immortal, king, lake, medieval, mists, murder, mystery, writing