Prometheus. What a mess of a movie. I went in memory of the original Alien, a chilling movie, one that held up to a few repeated viewing over the years. But Hollywood has probably never produced a profoundly alien species. How alien can we make a species ? China Mieville’s fascinating Embassytown has a truly alien answer.
Our third teacher was a soft-spoken jazz guy named Richard, with wide hips. He said he had a two-year-old daughter. At our first meeting, he gave Sophia and me a big lecture about the importance of living in the moment and playing for oneself. … Richard said there were no rules in music, only what felt right, and no one had the right to judge you, and the piano world had been destroyed by commercialism and cut-throat competition. Poor guy – I guess he just didn’t have what it took. … As the eldest daughter of Chinese immigrants, I don’t have time to improvise or make up my own rules. I have a family name to uphold, aging parents to make proud. I like clear goals, and clear ways of measuring success.
I woke up around 2 am. My hands unconsciously sought my iPhone beside my bed. Curled up in a foetal position under the covers, I continued reading Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. It was around 4.00 am or so when I turned the last page.
Wasn’t that the definition of home? Not where you are from, but where you are wanted?