Or it might have, light does not deliver the gossip of the galaxy instantaneously.It is a very long game of telephone for us little star-struck chatty-Kathies on earth. We we would have to the wait the 724, give or take a hundred light years, for the blast to register upon our retinas. Time and space isn't nearly as forthcoming about the news from the neighbourhood as I would have it.

Before we dive into movie talk, a few words about the accompanying photos. The opening shot is from the corn maze we visited last week. If you should find the exit and not your way back to the entry, you will be greeted by the sunny smiling faces of a weathered crop of sunflowers. They have seen some hard times and frigid nights, but they have not lost their happy way, just yet. A few bumbles have also manage to hang in there and get that little bit of good times before the long sleep.

The decorative, Halloween bric o brac is mine. I try to add a few new pieces every holiday season, to add to the collection and replace whatever got broken the previous year. Many of my pieces lit up originally, courtesy of a dollar store lithium battery. When the light battery burnt out, rather than replacing it. I created a larger opening, and now they jump warm light around my home with the insertion of a tea candle. Not so scary as inviting on increasingly cold nights.

I left the best for last. The aurora. These shots were taken about 4 nights ago from my backyard. I'm spoiled like that. Mostly green light on this particular evening. I have on authority that green is created through interaction of the solar flares with monoatomic oxygen. The reds and purples will be coming in future blogs.

What the northern lights lacked in color variation this night, they made up for with dancing. The wind picked up and the sky performed the dance of the seven(probably more) veils for us earthbound mortals.

We saw the lights begin their waltz on our way back from our local movie-plex. Peace River has a quaint, but aging set up. I quipped to Minime that we weren't just seeing a movie, but time travelling too. But the seats were comfortable and the screen bigger than our home TV set.

Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice had a lot to live ... expire ... to. The original is a masterpiece. An almost flawless cinematic creation. Well, the second will pale to the first. Burton buffs ... guilty .. will still likely have a very enjoyable movie experience. Keaton shows up in his naughty best as the title character. Baldwin, Davis, and Jones do not reprise their roles. We are still graced with the performances of Catherine O'Hara ... who has never disappointed .. and Winona Ryder. The sequel is more female-driven than the original. Winona heads the cast masterfully, and we are also joined by the up and coming Jennie Ortega and the sublimely beautiful Monica Bellucci.

Ortega is proving through this role and the titular role in Wednesday to know how command a screen among veterans. Alas, Bellucci was under-utilized. We are introduced to Delores, the soul sucker, at the beginning, shown the threat she presents to the dead, given a short back-story scene; and then she doesn't come into play much more than dark deux exmachina at the end. Think a jaws movie where the shark is only ever in couple scenes.

The not-enough Bellucci complaint aside, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice had me right up to the end but like a paper noise maker ... you know the kind you blow in to ... it wrapped up too quickly. There was a lot of telling and not enough showing, particularly with the dealing of the main love interest who suddenly became a villain. Not to be accused with the supporting love-interest ... that was played as gold. Despite the cinema-interruptus of the ending, I still await the Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetle ...

Roll the Bones

we are the last ones left alive
you and me, and them
encased and calcified
tossed about a vacuum
by a spiral arm with a fascination
for near misses and pyrotechnics

roll the bones; roll the bones
flesh and fur, pebbles and rocks
claws and teeth, fire and brimstone

we’ve been stashed away
locked up and picked through
fashioned and haphazardly satchelled
feral felines fighting it out in burlap
until the powers that be
can decide who among us
is salvageable

communicate or be obliterated
you have to be known, to exist
judgement is the invisible hand stamp
that confirms dues paid
for acceptance
into the human race
it isn’t success
it isn’t being first
so slow down, jack rabbit
the fix is in; there’s no finish line
just blackened ruins behind
far-out-there prairies ahead
carpeted with stiff-bladed grasses
that depend on your speedy ways
to slice and cut

I was just standing here
blowing in the wind, looking sharp
that cat came up and ran into me

wait ... we were talking
about rabbits
and not bleeding cats
where’d the bunnies go

down into rough-woven tunnels
and steel-wool warrens
safe, sound, and hair-shirt insulated
they heard there were some cats
on the prowl

we are the last ones left alive
you and me, and them
encased and calcified
tossed about a vacuum
by a spiral arm with a fascination
for near misses and pyrotechnics

roll the bones; roll the bones ...

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Words and Images are my own.

Roll the Bones is published in Monsters, Avatars, and Angels. Monsters, Avatars, and Angels are available in paperback or digital through amazon and your local libraries and bookstores. Click on any title below to further explore and support my writing.