I know we have a lot to say, but I don't want to talk right now
The last few days have been rather more emotionally high-octane than I feel is really warranted by the general state of the world, even though in all cases the precipitating events are inextricable from same. It is snowing again, blowing lightly through the streetlights, and the parking lot looks like a noir set in winter, especially with the red-and-white signage of Assembly Square blinking over the horizon and a tangle of Christmas lights wreathing a tree glimpsed on Broadway through the receding frames of fences and the unlit backs of buildings. I had a sharp moment of memory coming across this picture from the Amadeus I saw at the Old Vic in 1999 and fell stupidly in love with—I associated Suchet's Salieri irresistibly with Babylon 5's Londo Mollari and I wonder if I even made the connection of costume at the time. I am indifferent to the analysis, but I like this poem; one of the lines in it keeps giving me an echo.
rushthatspeaks sent me a lovely article about the astronomy books of Margret and H. A. Rey. My parents celebrate their forty-seventh anniversary in the morning.

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....is that Michael Sheen?!
Congrats to your parents!
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I adore the Rey astronomy books. My Cloudish constellations are based on theirs.
Nine
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*hugs* You went above and beyond. You usually do.
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It is! It was the first place I ever saw him. I had imprinted so hard on Salieri that I didn't carry away the name of the production's Mozart, but I spent the entirety of The Queen (2006) wondering why the actor who played Tony Blair looked so familiar when he didn't look all that much like Tony Blair. I still have distinct memories of his Mozart. Gestures, particularly.
Congrats to your parents!
Thank you! I'll pass them on!
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Thank you! I will tell them.
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I need to read that. And his memoir.
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Thank you! My father remembers it was snowier, but less bitterly cold on the actual day.
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Thank you. I will tell them you wish it. I hope so.
I adore the Rey astronomy books. My Cloudish constellations are based on theirs.
A very excellent tribute.
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So she mentioned!
I do not have your father in my phone, mostly because I am not sure he communicates with humans that way.
He sends a lot of photos, actually. Usually to Bertie, though.
You went above and beyond. You usually do.
*hugs*
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Happy anniversary to your parents!
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Because all my eyes see at the moment are games, it looks like the root of a game to me.
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The really cool actorly thing about that production only came into existence in hindsight, in that one of the supporting characters was played by Karl Johnson, who would become almost totemically important to me in 2011 in Derek Jarman's The Tempest (1979) and Wittgenstein (1993) and whom I would despair of ever seeing in person, until I realized I already had.
My library has a copy of the BBC radio production of Hamlet he starred in, which I've been meaning to check out.
I would love to hear what it's like!
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Which? Both?
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You should! That's really cool.
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Thank you! They seem to have cooked together and watched a TV show which they are only watching with one another, which sounds like a good anniversary to me.
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It makes me want to read a lot more of the poet, which I guess is what the centenary edition is for.
Happy anniversary to your parents!
I have been telling them the internet congratulates them!
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You're welcome!
Because all my eyes see at the moment are games, it looks like the root of a game to me.
Your recently asked game-questions made me think of it.
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It reminds me a little of Robert Graves' "Song of Amergin," but I don't think that's the echo for me and I wish I knew what it was.
Happy belated anniversary to your parents!
I will tell them!
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If you find the echo, I'll be interested to hear what it is.