Wolves never look back.
Well, I saw Troy yesterday. Cool movie. We cheered three times: for the King Arthur trailer (!!), for Rose Byrne stabbing Agamemnon in the neck because she's a handmaiden and she is brave, Your Highness, and for Aeneas's cameo. I'd talk about all the funny things, but I don't feel like it. I already did that a little on the blog-- talking about all of the hot Greek and Trojan men and the shortness of the war and so on. What I haven't mentioned that I feel like mentioning is that Helen wore too much eye makeup, probably to accentuate that she has the prettiest eyes IN THE WORLD. She had eyes like the Ageaen Sea-- or at least like the CGI Ageaen sea, because I've never seen the real one. They were a weird shade of greenish blue and gorgeous.
Alicia gave me three Discworld books! Now the only ones I don't have are Reaper Man and Thief of Time. I looked through all the Carrot and Angua parts of The Fifth Elephant last night, and they are really quite touching if you know Carrot and Angua. I tried to explain their relationship to Will yesterday, and I don't think I did it as well as I could have. It's just not enough to say that Carrot is "simple," or "tall," or "charismatic," or "the heir to the throne of Ankh-Morpork." So I'll just have Angua explain it for me right now.
"I'm an expert at running away from cities. I'll never work. It never does. Werewolves have to hang around with other werewolves, they're the only ones who understand. It's always a problem, growing hair and fangs every full moon. Just when I thought I was lucky before, I found that few men are happy in a relationship where their partner grows hair and howls. I swore: no more entanglements like that. Carrot doesn't mind. But he minds that other people mind. I can see it upsetting him. I can see the tensions building up, and he doesn't know how to deal with them. Maybe it would work if we were just alone somewhere, but if I said, "It's me or the city," he wouldn't even see there was a choice. Sooner or later, I've got to go home. It's the best thing for him.
Interesting facts. Carrot is full of interesting facts about Ankh-Morpork. Walking along a street with Carrot is like having three guided tours rolled into one. On our first walk I learned more about Ankh-Morpork in an hour than any reasonable person wants to know. I vaguely suspected that he was trying to court me. But, instead of the usual flowers or chocolate, he seemed to be trying to gift-wrap a city. And, despite all my better insticts, I was feeling jealous. Of a city! It's the way he wears the place. You expect him any moment to break into the kind of song that has suspicious rhymes and phrases like, "my kind of town" and "I wanna be a part of it" in it; the kind of song where people dance in the street and give the singer apples and join in and everyone acts like cheery lovable citizens instead of the evil-minded individuals they suspect themselves to be. But the point is that if Carrot erupted into a song and dance, people *would* join in. Carrot could jolly a circle of standing stones to form up behind him and do a rumba. Carrot appears to have in his soul not even a trace element of irony. It isn't his fault he was brought up by dwarfs in some mine and really does think that bits of rock are interesting. And yet... and yet... you can't help *liking* Carrot. Even people he's arresting like Carrot. Carrot takes an *interest.* He doesn't even think about it. He makes space in his head for people. He takes an interest, and so people think they're interesting. They feel... better, when he's around. He could lead armies. He really could. Some people have inspired whole countries to great deeds because of the power of their vision. And so could he. Not because he dreams of marching hordes or world domination or an empire of a thousand years. Just because he thinks that everyone's really decent underneath and would get along fine if only they made they effort, and he believes that so strongly that it burns like a flame which is bigger than he is. He's got a dream and we're all part of it, so that it shapes the world around him. And the weird thing is that no one wants to disappoint him. It'd be like kicking the biggest puppy in the universe. It's a kind of magic. Why do people follow him? I'm his girlfriend, but that's different. I love him because he's kind without thinking about it. He doesn't watch his own thoughts like other people do. When he does good things it's because he's decided to do them, not because he's trying to measure up to something. He's so simple. Anyway, I'm a wolf living with people and there's a name for wolves that live with people. If he whistled, I'd come running.
I'll have to go. I can't go on living from month to month. It's not that he's not likeable. You couldn't wish to meet a more caring man. That's just it. He cares for everyone. He cares about everything. He cares indiscriminately. He knows everything about everyone because everyone interests him, and the caring is all general and never personal. He doesn't think personal is the same as important. If only he had some decent human quality, like selfishness. Technically, I'm sure I know Carrot better than anyone else. I'm pretty sure he cares a lot for me. He seldom says so, he just assumes that I know. And yet all the time there is this feeling that the greater part of him is always deep, deep inside, looking out. No one could be so simple, no one could be so creatively dumb without being very intelligent. It's like being an actor. Only a very good actor is any good at being a bad actor. Carrot often attracts a certain stare. It roams every feature of his face, looking for the tiniest clue that he is making some kind of joke. Some long, deep joke at the expense of everyong else. Every sinew in your body *knows* that he must be, but there is not a clue, not a twitch to prove it. I'll have to go. Sooner or later he'll see that it can't really work out. Werewolves and humans... we've both got so much to lose. Sooner or later I'll have to leave him. But, for one day at a time, let it be tomorrow."
Alicia gave me three Discworld books! Now the only ones I don't have are Reaper Man and Thief of Time. I looked through all the Carrot and Angua parts of The Fifth Elephant last night, and they are really quite touching if you know Carrot and Angua. I tried to explain their relationship to Will yesterday, and I don't think I did it as well as I could have. It's just not enough to say that Carrot is "simple," or "tall," or "charismatic," or "the heir to the throne of Ankh-Morpork." So I'll just have Angua explain it for me right now.
"I'm an expert at running away from cities. I'll never work. It never does. Werewolves have to hang around with other werewolves, they're the only ones who understand. It's always a problem, growing hair and fangs every full moon. Just when I thought I was lucky before, I found that few men are happy in a relationship where their partner grows hair and howls. I swore: no more entanglements like that. Carrot doesn't mind. But he minds that other people mind. I can see it upsetting him. I can see the tensions building up, and he doesn't know how to deal with them. Maybe it would work if we were just alone somewhere, but if I said, "It's me or the city," he wouldn't even see there was a choice. Sooner or later, I've got to go home. It's the best thing for him.
Interesting facts. Carrot is full of interesting facts about Ankh-Morpork. Walking along a street with Carrot is like having three guided tours rolled into one. On our first walk I learned more about Ankh-Morpork in an hour than any reasonable person wants to know. I vaguely suspected that he was trying to court me. But, instead of the usual flowers or chocolate, he seemed to be trying to gift-wrap a city. And, despite all my better insticts, I was feeling jealous. Of a city! It's the way he wears the place. You expect him any moment to break into the kind of song that has suspicious rhymes and phrases like, "my kind of town" and "I wanna be a part of it" in it; the kind of song where people dance in the street and give the singer apples and join in and everyone acts like cheery lovable citizens instead of the evil-minded individuals they suspect themselves to be. But the point is that if Carrot erupted into a song and dance, people *would* join in. Carrot could jolly a circle of standing stones to form up behind him and do a rumba. Carrot appears to have in his soul not even a trace element of irony. It isn't his fault he was brought up by dwarfs in some mine and really does think that bits of rock are interesting. And yet... and yet... you can't help *liking* Carrot. Even people he's arresting like Carrot. Carrot takes an *interest.* He doesn't even think about it. He makes space in his head for people. He takes an interest, and so people think they're interesting. They feel... better, when he's around. He could lead armies. He really could. Some people have inspired whole countries to great deeds because of the power of their vision. And so could he. Not because he dreams of marching hordes or world domination or an empire of a thousand years. Just because he thinks that everyone's really decent underneath and would get along fine if only they made they effort, and he believes that so strongly that it burns like a flame which is bigger than he is. He's got a dream and we're all part of it, so that it shapes the world around him. And the weird thing is that no one wants to disappoint him. It'd be like kicking the biggest puppy in the universe. It's a kind of magic. Why do people follow him? I'm his girlfriend, but that's different. I love him because he's kind without thinking about it. He doesn't watch his own thoughts like other people do. When he does good things it's because he's decided to do them, not because he's trying to measure up to something. He's so simple. Anyway, I'm a wolf living with people and there's a name for wolves that live with people. If he whistled, I'd come running.
I'll have to go. I can't go on living from month to month. It's not that he's not likeable. You couldn't wish to meet a more caring man. That's just it. He cares for everyone. He cares about everything. He cares indiscriminately. He knows everything about everyone because everyone interests him, and the caring is all general and never personal. He doesn't think personal is the same as important. If only he had some decent human quality, like selfishness. Technically, I'm sure I know Carrot better than anyone else. I'm pretty sure he cares a lot for me. He seldom says so, he just assumes that I know. And yet all the time there is this feeling that the greater part of him is always deep, deep inside, looking out. No one could be so simple, no one could be so creatively dumb without being very intelligent. It's like being an actor. Only a very good actor is any good at being a bad actor. Carrot often attracts a certain stare. It roams every feature of his face, looking for the tiniest clue that he is making some kind of joke. Some long, deep joke at the expense of everyong else. Every sinew in your body *knows* that he must be, but there is not a clue, not a twitch to prove it. I'll have to go. Sooner or later he'll see that it can't really work out. Werewolves and humans... we've both got so much to lose. Sooner or later I'll have to leave him. But, for one day at a time, let it be tomorrow."