The vendetta.
In celebration of New Year's Eve (and due to my younger brother's intense vital reactions from fireworks and soot), our family stayed in a hotel for a couple of days.
We smuggled a DVD player and laughed ourselves into the wee hours of the day endlessly watching Seinfeld, eating ice cream, munching on chips, that kind of stuff. Our room had a spectacular view, where at every angle we could see the expansion of the skyline and the blue moon left us all breathless.
To my horrific disdain, I had forgotten my camera. Shame, really. But what could I do?
And to tell you, it may just be coincedence, but this bellhop was almost everywhere we went, and I encountered him while dad and I had breakfast at their cafe, when dad and I went out to pick out some groceries, and as we checked out of the hotel.
On the second day of our hotel stay, we went to Rockwell for lunch and shopping quite briefly.
There was this magnificent toy store there, a place for all my dreams to come true. It was like my casket could be shipped there and guarded by all the other toys.
The Abe and HB HOT Toys were there, and Rorschach masks, and gigantic busts of Iron Man and Hellboy and General Grievous and Silver Surfer, and even the limited edition Prince Nuada and Princess Nuala swords were there. They even had Kroenen bobble heads!
There was a Fully Booked store nearby, and I hurriedly scampered to the graphic novel section (as I always do), and to my surprise, I found a heap of Watchmen hardbound copies filling up a full shelf.
Right beside it, there were several V For Vendetta copies too. And 100 Bullets, and Hellboy, and most importantly, The Invisibles.
I was caught in a very tight situation, though. I had to choose between V For Vendetta or The Invisibles: Say You Want A Revolution (they had copies of Apocalypstick,The Invisible Kingdom, and all else, but I had to purchase only one book due to cash shortage).
It was a very uncomfortable position because at the same time, PIXU was staring at me right in the eye, and I even exclaimed, "Oh shut up!" right back at it. One guy browsing through the Marvel books looked incredulously at me, and out of embarassment, I said I was sorry, which I think he took well. I hope.
When my brother entered the bookstore with dad and mom telling me to quickly make up my mind because we had to leave, I asked him to give me his opinion on what to purchase.
In my younger brother's fertile mind, the most thorough and fully satisfying means of decision was by chance.
In this case, the "Eenie-meenie-minee-moe" game of chance.
And two times out of three, we have a winner:
In my younger brother's fertile mind, the most thorough and fully satisfying means of decision was by chance.
In this case, the "Eenie-meenie-minee-moe" game of chance.
And two times out of three, we have a winner:
And so, we got back to the hotel, I plopped myself on the couch munching on lime Tostitos, and for the incoming three hours, fully absorbed and drunk in the powerful and intoxicating world of V For Vendetta.
It was amazing to finally read the graphic novel itself. I've seen some excerpts of it on the internet, none quite appealing. And reading Valerie's letter online wasn't so impacting either.
It's quite different when the ink and the freshness of it all attacks you raw and compels you face-to-face. It sent tears to my eyes, literally piercing my heart in every beautiful action. Especially Valerie's letter. Even as she doesn't exist, I felt the letter speaking to me. Its voice, comforting me.
I also loved Valerie. Not in the sense that she would like for it, but reading of her, I found some way to care for her too. I did want to love her, I wanted to hold her, and be there for her. Odd as it is to find love in a gay woman, I felt so much need to be there for her.
And all the more, I have found inerrant love for V. Alan Moore reminds me so much of Tolstoy, as God spoke through his pen and He did the same for Alan Moore. As contradictory as that sounds, though. It is power in verbal context that matters, though. And quite simply, they both possess that haunting spell.
I find this year's New Year to have been the most liberating, though.
We watched this full fireworks display at the hotel, little rockets of gunpowder and springs of pyrokinetic light igniting the warm air. I was dazzled just watching it.
I looked out toward the entire skyline, as my mom and brother slept and my dad was busy on his laptop on his project, and so I just embraced the mood after the storm.
I was about to go to bed when suddenly this last little bombshell ricocheted in the 12 am sky and exploded into several pieces.
What amazed me though, was that they perfectly formed a V inside a circle.
Maybe V may not exist, I thought. But whatever he's doing, he's taking care of me.
I saluted the evening sky, and said, "Farewell, 2009.
You are now only someone I used to love."
It was amazing to finally read the graphic novel itself. I've seen some excerpts of it on the internet, none quite appealing. And reading Valerie's letter online wasn't so impacting either.
It's quite different when the ink and the freshness of it all attacks you raw and compels you face-to-face. It sent tears to my eyes, literally piercing my heart in every beautiful action. Especially Valerie's letter. Even as she doesn't exist, I felt the letter speaking to me. Its voice, comforting me.
I also loved Valerie. Not in the sense that she would like for it, but reading of her, I found some way to care for her too. I did want to love her, I wanted to hold her, and be there for her. Odd as it is to find love in a gay woman, I felt so much need to be there for her.
And all the more, I have found inerrant love for V. Alan Moore reminds me so much of Tolstoy, as God spoke through his pen and He did the same for Alan Moore. As contradictory as that sounds, though. It is power in verbal context that matters, though. And quite simply, they both possess that haunting spell.
I find this year's New Year to have been the most liberating, though.
We watched this full fireworks display at the hotel, little rockets of gunpowder and springs of pyrokinetic light igniting the warm air. I was dazzled just watching it.
I looked out toward the entire skyline, as my mom and brother slept and my dad was busy on his laptop on his project, and so I just embraced the mood after the storm.
I was about to go to bed when suddenly this last little bombshell ricocheted in the 12 am sky and exploded into several pieces.
What amazed me though, was that they perfectly formed a V inside a circle.
Maybe V may not exist, I thought. But whatever he's doing, he's taking care of me.
I saluted the evening sky, and said, "Farewell, 2009.
You are now only someone I used to love."