MJ#5 Hansel and Gretel Revamped

"G'morning papa!" cried Hansel.

"G'morning papa!" cried Gretel.

"G'morning little ones!" the woodcutter playfully tousled his two children's' hair.

"Oh stop it!  We don't want the neighbors thinking we're so poor our children don't know how to brush their hair," sniffed the ever-pleasurable Volindra.

The woodcutter quickly withdrew his hand from the scathing look his second wife had turned upon him.

"I'm sorry my love," he whimpered in her direction.

"Although we may as well be that poor. I don't see how you expect me to fix breakfast with half a loaf of bread."

"I-"

"Go on! Get to work!"

"But-"

"Move!"

With a sigh at the lack of breakfast and pleasantness in the house, the poor woodcutter took his leave.

"And as for you little scoundrels," Volindra scowled, "No breakfast until you're done with your chores."

The little girl and the little boy looked sadly at the empty dishes before them and scooted off their little stools.  They scrubbed the floor and weeded the garden and swept the chimney and performed countless other menial tasks that their stepmother thought up while she munched on the bread.  Volindra finally tired of watching her husband's children slave away when the woodcutter trudged in, eyes bright with the prospect of food.

The little boy and girl darted towards him with the intention of wrapping their tiny limbs around his legs, but the boy tripped over the stool and Volindra's favourite vase tumbled to the somewhat shiny floor.

"That is it! Out! Out! You little demons!  How dare you break the only thing worth anything in this house..." [Insert lecture here]. After a passionate and somewhat venomous dialogue, the stepmother finally tired of hearing her own voice and turned to her husband declaring, "YOU."

"Me?"

"Take them into the woods and let them wander around until someone else finds them.  We have too many mouths to feed."

"But-"

"NOW."

Downtrodden but in no way willing to face the wrath of his second wife, the woodcutter obliged and led his children out of the house.  On the way out the door, he slipped the remnants of the bread into his son's pocket.  The children followed the woodcutter deep into the forest.  As they went, Hansel dribbled a trail of bread crumbs to lead them back home.  Too bad the birds of the forest were hungry too.

After many teary hugs and choked goodbyes, the woodcutter finally lost the courage to avoid his wife any longer.  Hansel and Gretel watched their beloved father trudge away in disbelief.  Gretel collapsed to the ground in defeat.

"Don't worry, little sister.  I've left a trail of bread crumbs for us to follow home."

But, of course, now the birds were no longer hungry.

They wandered around the forest for the rest of the day before realizing that they were hopelessly lost.  They spent the night in a bed of leaves, lying back to back to conserve what little heat their skinny bodies could produce.  Shivering the next morning, Hansel and Gretel stumbled out of the trees.  A large grassy meadow framed the most beautiful thing the children had ever seen: towers of chocolate, sugar coated glass, frosting mortar, biscuit doors, candy flowers.  They found the last of their strength and bolted for the confectionery building.

And then it was theirs.  The sweet, rich, buttery goodness they never could have afforded.  They ate and ate until their sunken bellies bulged.  And then they ate more.  A tight pressure pinched the children's collars and a hideous woman came into view as their feet dangled below them.

"I see you found my garden."

The children hardly dared to breathe at this apparition, this warty, disfigured woman.  The vice grip on the back of their necks vanished and they crumpled.

"Where are my manners? You must be hungry, children.  Please, come inside and eat some real food."

Relieved the old woman wasn't going to punish them, the children happily obliged.  And what a meal it was!  The table was furnished with gravy smothered turkey, exotic fruits and vegetables  that neither Hansel nor Gretel had even heard of let alone tasted, and five different pies along with a thick stew, rice, jam, and curry.  The old woman sat the children down and filled their plates several times over.  Drowsy from the turkey, Hansel and Gretel's eyes slid closed, little heads slumped over their shoulders.

Jocelyn smiled.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hansel frowned at the hard, cold surface leeching the warmth of sleep out of him.  He bolted upward, slamming his head into the top of what he realized was a cage. Hands twined around the bars, seeking escape.

"Help! Help me!"

It was Gretel, scrunched up in an even smaller container than Hansel. The salty wash of despair reverberated between the siblings. They peered about the bare room, black as Death.  Harsh light exploded into the room as the old woman flung the door open.  Her unnaturally white teeth bared in a pleased snarl.

"It's been ages since I've had a snack.  That's all you are.  A snack.  Until I get a little more meat those pathetic frames."

She slurped noisily at the prospect.

Gretel buried her face in her sleeve.  Hansel was tempted to do the same but he needed to protect his little sister.

"Our parents know where we went and they'll be here soon," Hansel shouted at her.

Jocelyn laughed, "You've been asleep for three days and I've seen neither hide nor tail of another living being beyond you tasty morsels.  Now you, girl.  Stop your whimpering.  You will help me with the housework."

Gretel soon discovered that 'helping' with the housework really meant 'completely and totally scrubbing down the entire house and preparing the ingredients for children stew.'  Meanwhile, Jocelyn set the two on a strict 20-meals-a-day-not-including-dessert diet.  Despite Hansel's attempts to hide the food in his clothing and Gretel's attempts to throw it out the window, both children had definitely put on some weight. Luckily, Jocelyn had the vision of a brick wall so she couldn't tell how large they were getting.  She periodically would ask to pinch Hansel's finger through the bars in the cage to see if he was 'done yet.'  Clever Hansel poked one of the many turkey bones through every time.

"You're still much too skinny!"  she would proclaim and then stuff a chicken pot pie through the small slot in the bars.  After a week of bone pinching, Jocelyn grew tired of waiting.

Fire up the ovens, love!" she cackled at the girl.

Gretel reluctantly waddled over to the large stone grate, "Do you want me to make more chicken pot pies?"

"No.  I want to make children pot pies!"

With that, wicked woman snatched Gretel by the hair and dragged her over to the cutting board.

"Start chopping," she snarled.

The fires grew larger and larger.

"Go check and see if the oven's hot enough."

Gretel gulped.  Did she have the courage?

"Go check it yourself."

"You ungrateful little..." Jocelyn lunged towards her with a large wooden spoon.

"I mean...I've never made children before.  I'm not sure how hot the oven should be.  You don't want me to mess up your recipe do you?"

Jocelyn glared suspiciously at her for a moment before nodding, "That's true.  I don't want you to burn."

The horrible, old hag hobbled over to the oven and bowed her already crooked spine over the flames. Gretel took one large breath for strength and shoved the witch right in, slamming the door behind her.  The resulting scream still wakes her up in the middle of the night, the high pitched wail of no hope, bitter life, and insanity.

Gretel raced into the room where Hansel was furiously trying to break free of his confines thinking the hideous screeching was the last of his sister's life.

"I-I pushed her in."

Gretel fell to her knees in respect for Death and her role in it.

"C'mon sis.  We've got to get out of here."

Gretel finally found the keys, as well as a strange chocolate egg, in a drawer in the kitchen.  She held her breath the whole time so she would have to inhale the stench of burning flesh.  The key went in the lock and they were free.

Two days later, Hansel and Gretel were wandering though the forest looking for anything, anything to lead them home.

"Shh!"

"What?"

"Do you hear that?"

The steady beat of an axe on wood assailed their ears and they started running.

"Papa! Papa!" they cried.

And they were in his arms.

"Children!  Children, I missed you so much!  Your stepmother died and I- I should have-"

He brushed his beard on both of their foreheads in a kiss.

"Look!  We brought you back this present!" Gretel exclaimed holding up the chocolate egg.

The woodcutter gladly bit into the chocolate but immediately dropped it, clutching at his teeth in pain.  Under a thin chocolate layer was an egg of solid gold.

The poor family stared in disbelief.

"I guess you don't have to cut wood anymore."

MJ #4: Legend of the Seeker meets Joseph Campbell

Legend of the Seeker is one of the most fascinating shows I have ever had the pleasure to watch.  Filled to the brim with both the familiar and the original, the show takes a crash course into an epic land filled with magic, forbidden love, incredible sword fighting scenes, heart-stopping scenery, and malicious forces from every side (including the hero). 

The adventure starts when malleable Richard Cypher saves a strange girl in the forest and kills a man.  The man, who actually turns out not to be dead, begins to hunt him to get revenge for being pushed off a cliff. (I mean OUCH!)  Richard flees to the-crazy-old-man-on-the-hill's house who, after some awkward scenes with a chicken, tells Richard that he, Zeddicus Zo'l Zorrander, is actually a powerful magician and Richard is the mythical "Seeker of Truth" who must deliver the land from the evil power of Darken Rahl. (Call to Adventure).  Just as Richard's having a 'wtf' moment, the strange girl from the forest, Kahlin Amnell, shows up and tells him that, as much as she doesn't like it, he is indeed the Seeker.  Richard flips out and runs away.  (Refusal of the Call).  Richard is ready to write off this whole escapade, when he realizes that the not-so-dead-man from earlier has burned down his house and murdered his father.  He sets off on a quest of revenge and eventually accepts the help of Kahlin and Zedd as well as the "Sword of Truth" and the role of the Seeker. (Supernatural Aid).  The gang set off to face Mr. Murdering Scum who, in his short time in Hartland where Richard lives, has managed to kill off the villagers livestock, kidnap someone's daughter, and steal the "Book of Counted Shadows" which is the supposed "Seeker's Guide."  Needless to say, Richard's kind of pissed off.  The gang finally finds Mr. Unlikable at "The Boundary," the magical barrier between Hartland and the world of magic, the Midlands.  Richard effectively kills the daddy killer with some sweet sword moves and destroys the "Book of Counted Shadows."  (The Belly of the Whale). Kahlin is mortified but Richard explains that the repercussions of the book falling in the wrong hands is more devastating than losing the book itself.  Finally, Richard accepts his journey totally and crosses "The Boundary" into the Midlands with the sole intention of destroying Darken Rahl for sending his men into Hartland. (Crossing the Threshold).

After this somewhat cliche starting point, the trials begin.  In an episode by episode, monster by monster format, Richard, Kahlin, and Zedd face and defeat them all.  With each encounter, they get closer to Darken Rahl.  (The Road of Trials).  Along the journey, Richard realizes his deep attraction towards Kahlin but that their love can never be.  Kahlin is a "Confessor" which gives her the power to gain absolute control over a person if she touches them.Throughout the show, they remain very close and share their feelings with each other.  (Meeting with the Goddess).  On one of their many adventures, Richard gets captured by a Mord'Sith named Denna.  Mord'Sith are a fearsome lot of women raised from a very early age on the belief of torture and lust.  Battered and broken, Richard almost gives in to Denna's terrible power and become her slave forever, but Kahlin saves him. (Woman as the Temptress).  After a lot more traveling and chaotic happenings,  Richard finally gains the power to destroy Darken Rahl with "The Boxes of Ordon."  These three ornamented boxes, when put together, give mastery over the minds of everyone in the world. (The Ultimate Boon).  However, one cannot use the power without going insane.  From another copy of "The Book of Counted Shadows," Richard discovers that the mixture of Confessor's Love and the Boxes of Ordon will grant ultimate power without insanity. (Apotheosis).  Needless to say, Mr. Supreme Murderer of the Midlands is no more.  Richard is free to live his life without the constant watchful eye of Darken Rahl and has matured from it. (Atonement with the Father).

Richard can now cross between the two worlds at will (Master of the Two Worlds), but chooses not to (Refusal of the Return).  One things for sure though, he definitely earns the Freedom to Live.  (Until the second season...)

Hopefully I haven't ruined Legend for anyone.  Thanks for making it this far.

Mythic Sightings!!!

Well, this one hit me right in the kisser.  The latest episode in my sure-to-be-lifelong-obsession Doctor Who, featured a Minotaur as the alien-to-beat. The poor creature was abandoned in what the characters later found out was a prison cell in space. (What can I say, it's a British Sci-Fi). The prison cell kidnapped people from around the universe and inserted them into a hotel labyrinth in which each person had a door meant just for them.  Each person's room held their deepest fear and as soon as they had found their respective rooms, the 'Minotaur' (yes, they actually called it that) could find and hunt them down in the maze.

Also, while reading about Jungian analysis, I was astounded to see the word "Animus."  Assassin's Creed, the best video game of all time, involves a man named Desmond Miles who is forced to go into his ancestor's memories (Altair and Ezio Auditore) to discover truths in his own life.  The machine that allows him to do this is called "The ANIMUS."  I feel like the system should be called "The ANIMA," however, seeing as the interface uses a feminine voice and has a close relationship with Desmond (who is male).  She definitely allows him to see into his unconscious (where his ancestor's memories are supposedly stored) and even connects him to a Goddess later in the storyline.  The Goddess recognizes Desmond even though it is Ezio who is speaking with her.  The ANIMUS is even slowly becoming a part of Desmond, as he begins seeing visions of his ancestors when he isn't hooked up to the machine.

MJ#3 The HP Family Tree

Family can be a complicated and dangerous topic which is why I'm so surprised I could categorize all of my family through a Harry Potter identity.  First of all, there's me.  Hello, everyone, I'm Luna Lovegood.  I make nonsense out of sense and sense out of nonsense.   Then there's my mom, Molly Weasley.  She's caring, makes the most with what she's got, and would do anything for her family.  Seriously, Bellatrix, you're going down.  My dad, James Potter, died a while back.  It was something of a tragedy.  He was the trouble-maker, leader of the pack, eternal party animal (I mean everyone knows about that time at the Shrieking Shack...) but he turned into a good man in the end.  In the end.  My uncle, Sirius Black, was kind of a dumb-shit as a kid but he transformed into the family protector.  Kind and intelligent, he watches over the lesser of us, like young Harry, my brother.  He's the smart idiot who breezes through life with the promise of destiny and the continued re-occurrence of Lady Luck.  (Seriously...his good luck is astounding).  My aunt, Madame Rosmerta, looks after her husband and her flock with good grace and charm.  She runs an immaculate, well-rounded, and well-loved household.  Her child, my cousin, resembles both Fred AND George, mischievous and charming to off-the-scale levels.  Fleur Delacour, my other cousin, frolicked through life and hardship (the Triwizard Tournament was brutal!) with a strong chance of success and then fell into the arms of a good man.  My other aunt, Nymphadora Tonks, battles through her life in a whirlwind of bad ass action and wild personality and cleverness despite the losses she's had to endure.  Her sister, Sybill Trelawney, flickers on the stranger side.  She is more than competent in her art, although she doesn't know it, and has a fragile heart that could shatter at any moment. (So BACK OFF Umbrige).  My Grandma lives in her own little world of misery and self-confinement, blaming others for her problems.  We try not to call her Moaning Myrtle but...you know.  Her husband is much more reserved.  Olivander hardly says a word, but he has such wisdom and such stories to tell.

Well...there you have it.  Now all I need is some permanent Spell-O Tape and I could post it to the wall.

MJ#2 Life or Life? That is the question...

 The Jeweled, my mythic creation and not-creation, the slippery demon within (like the one living inside Soul Eater), flits through every story but never lingers.  Truly, she belongs nowhere. In the nowhere land of universe, she reigns on high over none because there are none to rule.  Perhaps this only proves her independence, but more likely this proves her loneliness.  The impenetrable Jewel, harder than diamond, too hard.  She must always succeed, always conquer, never fail.... The exhausting, mediocrity of battling Balance, one foot in the light and one in the dark in the soupy realm of atmosphere.  Not that she could feel it anyway.  If she could...oh.  What a dastardly idea.  Who could survive that much power and a soul?  Would they all be "saved?" (Torchwood: Miracle Day).  Or would they all be "saved?"  (The Afterlife).  She will gain a soul eventually but, when that terrible day spins into position, the choice is hers.  Life or life?  Personally, I'd take neither.