Tinhuviel Artanis

Oh, nice! I found this whilst waiting on a major file transfer to finish up (still waiting). This poem is from 1997, or 1 BSE (Before the Sith Era). I was in love. No, I wasn't just in love. I was hopelessly in love at first sight even! Of course, we're dealing with Humanity, so things turned out badly. Ah well.

I'll Sing His Song

When I looked into his eyes and saw his spirit there
Dancing in tranquility like down in Summer's air
I fell like leaves from maple trees and plunged into his heart
To rest in fragile symmetry no grief could tear apart.

I'll sing his song unto the moon, the Lady silver bright
And cherish every melody he heralds in the night
No light is keener 'mongst the stars that shimmer in the sky
Heaven's gentle symphony shines sweetly in his eyes.

©Tracy A. Evans
21 October, 1997

I can't believe I was ever that big of a ninny. But I was, and here's the proof. I'd rather shove a spork in my eye as to ever have gone through any of that.

Would you rather be very attractive and have no friends or be very unattractive and have many friends?

I would rather just have a legion of minions because of some kick-ass charisma that gives me the appearance of attractiveness. Muaahahahahaha!

Aunt Tudi and I found ourselves at Wal-Mart today. As we were checking out, the cashier eyeballed Aunt Tudi's sunflower blouse and said, "Oh, I like your blouse!"

Feeling particularly Sithly, I said, "What? No compliment for my ensemble?" I was wearing my 'Sith Happens' tee shirt and 'Sith Lord' baseball cap.

"Well, I wasn't sure what it all meant, so I didn't want to say the wrong thing," she said diplomatically.

"You're not a Star Wars fan?" I asked, aghast.

"Well, yeah, but I don't know what a Sith is!"

"Darth Vader, dudette! Darth Maul! Both of them are Sith. See? Double light saber," I said, doing the Vanna thing on my cap.

"Oh! Well, I guess I do like your shirt then! I'm more of a Jedi person, though."

"See, if I had a real double light saber right now, I'd have to kill you!"

And we all laughed heartily.

Of course, if I really had had a light saber, the Jedi cashier would so have been history.

---

In other Sith news, I would like to note the passing of Bea Arthur. All I have to say about it is: "SHADY PINES, MA!" Those in the know, realise and appreciate this. May her days in the Summerland be filled with joy and laughter, and a very happy reunion with Estelle Getty, another Great Sith Woman.

::makes sign of Pentagram on her chest::

---

Okay, back to writing. This Nun's Date is going to be the death of me.

A continuation of the "war."


I got a response back:

You are a twit first class, flaming?! Is that an internet term? You must be a stay at home to use email/internt terms, please do you sit at home with your hand out too like a  perfect democrat, hand out, crying for help. 

Insidious? Now that's funny, really life must just be too much for you to handle if an email is insidious, try not reading and simply deleting next time.

and Cheers to you and your regards

Of course, I couldn't let it go. It would be....unSithly.

How sad that you're unable to form coherent sentences.  A stay-at-home what?  Could you possibly include a verb and a noun in each sentence, or are you too busy name-calling to speak proper English?

Your assumptions about my private life are insulting and typical of your ilk.  I'm certain that you'll be sitting in church, turning the other cheek, come Sunday, secure in your imagined superiority.

If you have any problems understanding any portion of this email, I would direct you to http://www.dictionary.com, in hopes that you're literate enough to comprehend it.  It's been my experience that many Right-leaning types are big on arrogance and aggression, but sadly lacking in intelligence.  You're doing nothing to dissuade my opinions.

Should you care to engage in a civil conversation, I'm open to share ideas and opinions, and learning of yours.  But, if you're keen only on attacking the character of someone who has had enough of unwelcome emails, I would ask that you take your hatred and ignorance elsewhere, like Nazi Germany, where such behaviour was welcome and celebrated.

I'm not certain I'll continue this discourse, though. My heart is about to beat out of my chest from the distress at knowing I'm far outnumbered by people like this. These are the people who held the auto da fé and built the concentration camps. I don't, for one second, doubt that these brutes could and would do it all over again.

I found my Sith Lord hat yesterday. It was buried under a bunch of other hats. Needless to say, I'll be wearing it more often, now that I've recovered it.



When I got home from the bakery today, this was sitting on the kitchen table waiting on me. What powers the Swiss Cheese that is Aunt Tudi's brain baffles me to no end, but it's damned entertaining.

Yep, this is pretty spot on. Thanks, dr_nebula

Most every time I'd bellyache about my life, Granny would pipe up with this dollop of wisdom: I cried because I had no shoes until I met the man who had no feet. That is to say, "there's always someone worse off than you, so shut your pie-hole." Even though this pissed me off, it often made me a bit more grateful for what I did have, and it always shut me up. Until....

Until I grew older, more cynical, a tad jaded, and a whole hell of a lot snarkier. I took Granny's dollop of wisdom and updated it. Since I have no children onto whom to pass this, I'm sharing it here, so that your children's children might take solace in the words.

I cried because I had no shoes until I met the man who had no feet. So I took his shoes, as he obviously wouldn't be needing them.

::tosses crap glittery fairy dust for to cut your eyeballs with::

So I thanked Barry and Colesy for the Cormorant Egg.

I wrote:

It's definitely the most unique treasure I have and I will most assuredly treasure it.  Oh, and the accompanying Vile Homunculus card was more than appropriate.

Barry replied:

you're very welcome Angelina

  

wot was the homuncular card?

I replied:

"with barely concealed rage"

  

 

  

That just sings to my Inner Sith.

To which Barry commented:

ahh I see. You weirdo..

Well, he thinks I'm a weirdo and I think he's a spook. Those, my friends, are the building blocks of a fabulousl friendship!

If I had access to a knife right now, I'd saw off my left leg right above the knee just to get rid of the knee. I have a new doc appointment, this time with Lisa, tomorrow at 1:15. Word.

The PMS Psychosis is much worse than it was earlier. My patience has run out with humanity as a whole and I am now prepared to lay waste to small villages. Instead, I'll lay waste to LJ. It's time to make some long overdue changes. Sith shouldn't care about hurt feelings and, when it comes to being fucking miserable in what is supposed to be my own space, neither should I!

This is where I should screech "DEATH TO ALL INFIDELS!" and start swinging the sword of justice.

So here I sit with a small red bow affixed to my head and grin plastered across my face. It's not necessarily Krimmus spirit, but I am in a fantabulous mood. I feel all warm and gooey inside, and I'm ready to bounce about and titter with glee.

I feel so good, I wouldn't even punch clauderainsrm in the face if he were close! I'm afraid that Palpy will barge in any minute and take away my Sith membership card, slowly ripping it up in front of me and tossing the pieces in the air like so much confetti.

Tonight is the Evans family brouhaha. It used to be held at my house when Granny was still alive. After she died, though, we started having it at Uncle Michael and Janice's abode. This year will be different. Little Michael finished his and Jenni's new home and, as a result, they wanted to host the shindig there. So we're off to Campobello around 6 PM. I thought they lived in Boiling Springs, but I was mistaken.

Aunt Tudi has asked me not to be too critical of Colby tonight. I'll do my level best to honour her wishes even though he deserves to be beaten with a large spiked club. He sure as hell doesn't deserve to be visited by Santa Claus because he's an unruly little bat-faced reprobate. I'm the only one who lets him know that too. I make him and everyone around him aware that I know he's a criminal in the making.

BUT!! I feel too good to let that speck of bad behaviour ruin my day. I'm gonna have at the good times and enjoy myself to the max. And then I'm gonna come home and stay up 'til shortly after Midnight, like I always do on Krimmus Eve, hoping that one or all of the animals will speak. If nothing happens, I'll retire for the evening. If one of them does start speaking, you'll hear my YAAAAHOOOOOOOOOOOO!! echoing around the globe. Yea and verily.

That first bit is from Eddie Izzard's "Dress to Kill" show, when he was making fun of John F. Kennedy saying "Ich bin ein Berliner." The cuckoo clock bit comes from my favourite Orson Welles line:

"In Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock."

I knew it would happen, but I didn't realise it would happen so quickly. I've overdosed on happiness and respite. Since my departure from The Pit and my separation from my arch-enemy The Feudal Mistress, I feel that I have swiftly lost my edge. I've become a doughy lump on the couch, spending way too much time actually enjoying Lifetime Television. Aunt Tudi has been passing by on occasion and checking for a pulse. There have actually been some days that not one expletive would come out of my mouth ~ not one!

I feel de-Sithed. It's like I had Maul's balls until my release from The Pit, whereupon I was swiftly castrated. Woe is I!

Before I ever left The Pit, I had expressed dismay at no longer having strife and turmoil in my life, no longer having a nemesis with whom to spar. Now that this has come to pass, I feel out of sorts. No more am I Italy, producing Da Vincis of dread. Lo! I am now Switzerland, popping out cuckoo clocks of contentment! What the hell am I gonna do now?

I'm beginning to hope that school won't be what it always was before, a walk in the park. I'm hoping that I hate my teachers and I struggle with the work. At least, then, I'll have something to bitch about and will once more feel whole.

My problem is that, even though I'm displeased with being happy, I'm too happy to ruin my current state of bliss. I am a bad Sith. Bad, bad Sith!

There are no words for how much I'm looking forward to lunch tomorrow. Judy's farewell/birthday dinner is tomorrow and Aunt Tudi and I will be in attendance. I'm planning on looking fabulous, bright-eyed and rejuvenated for the dinner just to show everyone how much good getting away from The Pit has done me. But I'm also planning on pouring my derision all over the Feudal Mistress with extreme prejudice. It's long overdue and I need to prove to myself that I haven't lost my Sithly mojo.

Well, this is interesting. ...and amusing.

I would have liked to have taken them seriously, but am incapable of doing so, simply because of this one line found in their "Becoming a Member" page:



Wow, I get headlights if I join! I am so there, man!

Oh, and by the by, assholes: you misspelled DEVELOPMENT.

Sheesh.

I just found this essay I wrote at the Darth Maul Estrogen Brigade a couple of years ago and thought I'd post it here. Not only is it what I believe to a great extent (not only on a Star Wars level), but it also includes one of my favourite bits from any libretto ever ~ the eloquent and infamous intro to 'Big Night Music' by Shriekback.


( Tales from the Darkside )