In case you aren’t familiar with the scripture – at the last supper Christ served hardboiled eggs & rabbit pie – which is why we honour that meal by decorating with eggs & bunnies.
As much as the various Christian churches have attempted to co-opt the pagan celebrations that existed before the creation of Christianity they have persisted. Easter is one of those co-opt attempts but much like Halloween it has remained rooted in its BC beginnings. I am happy to see all these homes happily displaying these Eostre devotionals.
Watching 1956’s The Ten Commandments again. It has been decades since I last watched it from the beginning. I would catch glimpses when it would show up on TCM almost every other month. I had forgotten it was a comedy.
Drowning in hysterical historical inaccuracies it’s hard to tell where to begin though the most obvious is the costumes – particularly for the women wearing fabrics & colours that never existed in the 1300 BCE time era – not that I’m expecting documentary realism but any means. Then there’s there architecture – grand halls with black marble floors that have never been excavated.
The use of language is laugh-out-loud funny, the delivery so leaden, the constant ‘Moses Moses’ – a name so nice everyone has to say it twice. Speaking of Moses Moses – Heston gives a performance that is so wooden I was surprised he didn’t burst into flame when he stood in front of the burning bush. Brenner gives a regal performance as Rameses II as if this were The Moses Moses & I. Anne Baxter is the real star with her insinuating, sinuous work at Nefretiri. She nails Rameses balls to the floor with a glance. Good too is Edward G Robinson’s sly, cunning & manipulative Dathan.
I can’t not mention the dazzling colours made even more lurid in High Definition. The movie suffers in HD though – without the pebble screen to diffuse edges the fx & back screens are obvious. The parting of the Red Sea is still wonderful but I found the closing of it to be even more amazing. Not amazing was the bad aging makeup on Heston – the greying of his hair was more akin to a high school drama production than a Hollywood epic. His wooly white beard & head of hair at the end was distractingly fake.
I loved seeing this again. Epic myth making at its finest. Biblical scholarship at its most Technicolor.
without a doubt
the slimmest hope
is held on to longest
that ghost of a chance
that finds a ledge
to balance on
awaiting the opportunity
to dash into view
when all the chips are down
can’t you just hear
his heavy footfall
up the stairs
or tripping over a chair
with a drink in one hand
resurrection in the other
Ending this look back with something humorous. I’d say funny but the ending is a bit too sardonic. I’ve written similar pieces in which I play with clichés in unpredictable ways. I enjoy the way this poem twists around language &, hopefully, takes the reader by surprise with the unexpected ending image.
The poem a bit didactic with the almost aphoristic opening about holding on to hope. How long will Trump hold on to his unsubstantiated conspiracy theory? Pride keeps some holding on rather than letting go & moving on. Slim hopes: like ‘this time it’ll be different,’ ‘he/she didn’t really mean it’ etc. We find it easier to continue to invest in hopeless causes than move on.
Lessons learned can be quickly forgotten or ignored with the promise of resurrection. Red flags ‘heavy footfall’ ‘tripping over a chair’ are ignored with that promise ‘I’ll change.’ Or we get caught in being the nice guy afraid that by establish & maintaining a boundary we won’t be liked. ‘If you love me you’ll forgive me.’ ‘Don’t you trust me.’
Alcoholics often continue to drunk, well aware of the consequences – often there is no event, consequence or loss painful enough to get them to stop. In fact that pain becomes an excuse to keep on drinking, the promise of forgetting. Doing the same thing over & over expecting a different result.
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chalk drawings on Strathmore Boulevard east of Linnsmore Crescent. Telephone pole art Woodfield Road near Walpole Ave.
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