'moviegoer' tagbox conversations..

jady: after some relentless refreshing of the page it finally turned out right......
jady: relieve relieve relieve..now going to have lunch..been munching chocolate all day...
zhu: jadyyyyyyyy, tell me how to access this blog, what username n passwd in order to post
zhu: or can i just post msg in the reply box? hope not
jady: hey hey how come you still ard?! i emailed you the username and pswd, didn you get th
jady: i'll send again..of course you shouldn confine yourself to tiny shoutbox spaces..
jady: you are the all-important other half of SlapStick the enterprise!!
jady: :P
slap: carried on another verse with 'a bird', keep loading
slap: hew, made great progress, starving, out to dinner
j: good god it's HUGE progress!!! i am so very happy and energised!! gonna work on it..
slap: stick, help me complete slapstick timeline n moviegoer list
stick: sure sure,working on them now..
stick: updates still refuse to show their faces on main page..frustrating..se-nt another
stick: complaint to blogcn.hopefully the matter will be soon looked into and solved..
stick: the broken english too..shouldn't appear this way at all.gotta wait for their response
stick: and where's the birdie continuation? i can't find it...
slap: it's right after wat u wrote
stick: 555 i think it's lost in the posting process...see4 yrself, it's not there...
stick: try post again..and it will go on and on and on..hohohoho
slap: it's under that same old title 'a bird, a continuation'
slap: i added on another verse n saved it under the old title
stick: strange..when i click on it all that shows is the old one..i'll go control panel n c.
slap: i think this's really
slap: funny,
slap: that we're conversing in howler boxes hahahahhahaha
stick: haha you are not on msn! that's why!
stick: not that i have read it thrice i think it now is a rather self-contained egg...
stick: neatly packaged and finished. start another one maybe..shall we?
slap: great! start on another one, prob the novel too. i can't go on msn, my dad's there,
slap: and it's bloody late, and it's sinful to block one's own parents on msn
stick: :P as you say..i always go invisible on yahoo and they can buzz me if they feel like
stick: go to bed dear slap..it's indeed bloody late..i'll see you soon..
slap: i'm going sleep, why am i not sleeping yet, mad
stick: am going sleep.it's 2am sharp. just posted the movie list.not yet writing on ss days.
stick: blogcn will get a new server next week, or so they say.hope things get better then..
slap: sweet dreams pal! movie list up, keep loading
slap: i'll delete the eng patient quote, repeated
stick: philosophy test tomolo..gonna revise revise revise today..i'll see what i can do toda
slap: mug today, don't do anything else. damn msn
stick: seems the broken word problem is fixed..now only the update display prob..biggest one
stick: great.that bloody piece of blade runner review finally disappears..hope e rest appear
stick: very soon, and neatly formatted too..es complained lengthily abt blogcn the other day
stick: coz o biology...blog isn functioning smoothly either..persuaded to change to blogspot
stick: but i think i'll stick to here for the time being..thoughts?
stick: stick wanna stick here and slap may want to slap stick for that..­
stick: oh b4 i forget--compose in msword or somewhere stable and paste into box to post..
stick: coz it's customary tt blogcn loses stuff in the process..i got tt e very 1st time...
stick: maiden post 'lost in translation'...and wary of bloody blogcn ever since..
slap: stick, you're safe. let's stick to this blog.
stick: last exam gone.wasn as bad as i tot.raging storm outside.working full power!!!!!!!!!
stick: uploaded some munch...but unable to get SHRIEK up there since it's way too big..55555
stick: also uploaded friend's painting tt i promised..take a look in e folder n u'll c ­
stick: xiaocui's bday..ate cake juz now..so poisonously sweet n creamy!!!!!!yum yum...
stick: oops i juz saw tt dog paw quote fr EP is alr there in e original post..did u add tt.?
stick: or was it my glassy eyes tt tricked and fooled me into such blunder as to repeat it.?
slap: i added ur paw quote there afterwards, haha nothin'g wrong w ur eyes
slap: geez i forgot xiaocui's bday, and cakes...555
slap: stick, let's embark on our novel soonish!-after my exam... Dec 20th
slap: saw the 'twilight' pic, gd colour, gd feel
stick: SURE!i'll try work a little sth out today..it's 14:17 n i just got up...:P
stick: HAHAHA juz sent blogcn a 3rd, V ANGRY complaint, and there~blog updates duely appear~
stick: persistance leads to eventual victory wah!!
stick: made some changes to chap1,which hasn shown up.will continue later.it's 8am now and
stick: i'm going w/o sleep for 20 hrs..so, going to bed!!hoho, cya later~
slap: thining hard on the novel...
jady: jude! my blog mania surfaced again!! i just registered a new blog on blogspot....­
jady: what madness. what illness!
jady: i'm gonna repost 2046 when i finish it, and you shall see the tony leung bit then..
jady: thoroughly exhausted again..intense activity alternates w/ indefinite inactivity..
jady: such is life. c'est bizarre!
jude: norwegian forest, beetle song??
j: norweigian WOODS by beAtles..hehe yes
slap: hahahaha lol i hereby claim the typo queen crown
slap: ok from today onwards i'm gonna check n update our jj blog consistently
slap: on dan brown, i dun know him so i can't say much
slap: wait till i come back after dinner n continue with the reply
slap: the lover looks great read! i'm gonna borrow the book
j: haha great u finally drop by!! stick is lonely here..
j: and happy valentine's..which isn't for lovers narrowly defined only i believe..hehe

Donna Donna by Joan Baez

On a wagon bound for market
There's a calf with a mournful eye
High above him there's a swallow
Winging swiftly through the sky
How the winds are laughing
They laugh with all their might
Laugh and laugh the whole day through
And half the summer's night

#Donna, donna, donna, donna
Donna, donna, donna, don
Donna, donna, donna, donna
Donna, donna, donna, don

Stop complaining, said the farmer
Who told you a calf to be?
Why don't you have wings to fly with
Like the swallow so proud and free?
How the winds are laughing
They laugh with all their might
Laugh and laugh the whole day through
And half the summer's night

#

Calves are easily bound and slaughtered
Never knowing the reason why
But whoever treasures freedom
Like the swallow has learned to fly
How the winds are laughing
They laugh with all their might
Laugh and laugh the whole day through
And half the summer's night

#

Ida

Ida was born into a peasant’s family in a tarnished metropolis.

Not that the family still plows field for a living; there’s none in the tattered city. Ida’s grandfather, a moody carpenter, pushed his way into the city before his first child was born. He was later renowned for chasing after his own children in the streets with an axe, a cleaver, spitting, cursing, threatening death. But the children grew up fine, sturdy without and sentimental within, approaching life with weary practicality. It is the fiery grandfather that didn’t last. He died of uncured tuberculosis in the then poverty and ignorance, coughing bouts of blood in his last days like a phoenix before rebirth, barely fifty, still fiercely handsome, his oldest son a dreamy young man still.

Ida never gets to meet him, all this she knew from fragmentary accounts from the father, the aunt and the uncle, sometimes old neighbours too, and occasional reminiscences of her widowed grandmother, that illiterate, wrapped up woman. Ida wondered how much of her grandfather’s ignitable blood ran in her veins, for she was a grenade of a child, solemn and deathly still for hours when she wants to, and in tantrums kicks trees with a bleeding toe, and bangs her head on iron railings and brick walls. Her forehead now a jagged bony plane, and always a shade of dusty crimson from the red bricks. People say such strange child has demons born into the heart, for how else could there be such utter unspoken and unspeakable rage in such young heart? But Ida didn’t hear any of those. Those days she just attended to the chickens.

Ida’s grandmother raised a dozen chickens on one end of the long, narrow L-shaped balcony. It was the only thing she did and perhaps the only thing she could do. Her sons did the cookings, and her daughters-in-law the housework. Whenever she wanted to give a hand she was politely asked to not tire her old body. Grandmother was respected in the family for her seniority, but other than that Ida knew the adults found grandmother’s alternating illiterate mutterings and heavy silence depressing, a burden, an unsightly phantom existence.

Ida, on the other hand, savored the long chunks of silence, with the grandma, with her chickens, with the oozing well water of July, with caterpillar-infested wild bushes that tickled her shins and kissed green juicy smears on her flighty cotton skirt.