Shadow March 17, 1993 - April 1, 2009

Shadow was a bad cat. Absolutely awful. He teared up furniture. He got under everyone's feet. He climbed the table and stalked the kitchen whenever someone was in it. No food was safe. He even managed to drag the turkey off the table and onto the floor one sad Thanksgiving. And years after that, he still usually managed to take a bite or two out of it.

He was fighty, he was bitey, his tale was often more active and aware than he was. He was a terrible cat. And he was one of the best damn cats I've ever known.

I could tell a million stories about Shadow. And I'd probably forget another ten million. In essence, he was the Marley of cats. He was badly behaved, idiotic in a stupid-yet-clever sorta way, and he was the most loving creature in the world. He saved my life and enriched it time and time again.

The best way to give you the picture of Shadow is tell you about his death. Early on the morning of April Fool's Day, he collapsed in front of the refrigerator. We hurried to get him to the vet to be euthanized, since it was obvious that he couldn't survive but needed some help letting go of life. He loved car rides, and my brother, who was holding him, swore that he was purring. Shadow loved car rides in a way I've only seen in dogs.

The vet helped him pass without suffering too much. He'd had a stroke, and while his body was paralyzed, his heart was still trying to beat. (And what a good heart it was) He's buried outside our kitchen, with a giant rock on top of his grave so that he doesn't come back as a zombie. Trust me, if he could, he would.

He had a full, adventorous life. His death is bittersweet. It hurt watching him become frail after spending so many years the definition of energetic, and sensing the frustration from himself as his body gave out on him. And the last days of his life were filled with table scraps, trips through his garden in the sun, and open laps. Yet I find myself choking up as I wander through the house I don't see him tripping me up on the stairs or showing me that the food bowls are empty. The day he died, we sat in the kitchen wondering at the strange sensation of not having to fight the cat for our food.

I've been fighting the urge to write about his whole life to share it with you. I'm crying even now at the little I've written. There will never be another cat like Shadow...until he reincarnates and comes to bug us again. ;)

The Wizard Has No Heart for Inkheart

Inkheart tells the tale of Mo and Meggie Folchart, a father and daughter team of bookbinders. Mo and Meggie’s lives are quiet ones until, on one of their travels for Mo’s job, the past catches up to them. Dustfinger, an acquaintance of Mo’s from years before, comes to pursued Mo to give him something – a book – before Capricorn finds Mo and collects the book and Mo himself. As these people with strange names begin to invade her and her fathers lives, Meggie not only finds herself in situations she’s only read about before, but discovers that there is more going on between the covers of a book than just what’s written on the page.

Inkheart is cast as close to perfectly as I’ve ever seen in a book adaptation. Eliza Bennett and Helen Mirren are Meggie and Elinor, and Paul Bettany as Dustfinger surprised me as the movie progressed with his ability to capture his characters desperation. Andy Serkis is not Capricorn from the book but is still an interesting and compelling villain. The scenery is not as stunning as in Narnia or the Harry Potter movies - the movie doesn’t require such a grand scale as most of the conflict is among the characters – but it fits the tone of the movie and doesn’t detract from the action. Nevertheless, Inkheart is why books should never be made into movies.

I was anticipating that Inkheart wouldn’t be the same story I loved. I anticipated that Meggie and Mo’s powers would be out in the open from the very start to save time. I anticipated a plot and characters completely different from the books’, carrying only the title, the names of my beloved characters. I anticipated a completely different story, fitted together with a few chopped up key plot points that bared a vague resemblance to the book. I was braced for everything but what I got.

Inkheart is the result of when studios listen to fans when they say they want a straight adaptation of the book – or at least as close an adaptation as they can get. It doesn’t work and Inkheart illustrates perfectly why. All the thoughts and emotions the characters feel, and the memories and events which prompt them, are too numerous and complex to move easily to screen. And in stories such as this, which are epic and fantastical in nature, it ends up feeling trite and kitschy.

In one attempt to condense some of the more superfluous parts of the book, The Wizard of Oz was used to fill the role of several other less famous books. This sounds good in theory. In fact, it sounds brilliant in theory, considering the parallels in both books about people traveling to different worlds. In practice, however, it falls flat of being meaningful or inventive and instead feels contrived and cheesy.

In short, the movie tries too hard to be the book; it follows the plot almost exactly, but the few changes they make are ones which change the mood and attitudes of characters in ways which damage the story rather than enhance it.

Inkheart is based on the book of the same name by Cornelia Funke, author of The Thief Lord, The Dragon Rider, and the Inkheart Trilogy, Inkheart, Inkspell, and Inkdeath. And as always, this is in my college newspaper.

Of Laptops and Other Toasty Things

My laptop is toast. Crispy, deep fried toast. I mean no battery, no internet, sparks shoot up from the mother board toast. I need marshmellows for this. While this is a bit depressing, where there is toast, there is jam. And Stephen King and Libba Bray have gifted me with finest jam.

Stephen King disses Stephenie Meyer. Like I need anymore reason to love Stephen King.

Going Bovine cover art released!!!! Oh happy day!

Wait, I thought they were Chicken of the Sea?

Welcome 2009. What do I greet you with? Craziness from PETA.

Look, I support a lot of stuff. And saving the environment is pretty damn important. But sea kittens are not the way to do it and be taken seriously. I mean, really PETA. SEA KITTENS? Weren't you trying to get the world to accept you as a legitimate organization NOT made up of marijuana saturated neo-hippies? This is not the way.

Saving 140-year old lobsters named George, on the other hand, earns my full support. Viva la Lobsters!!!