So, yes. I should have posted this on Monday, August 20, when I re-met him. MRME. Him.
It’s anniversary in my head, that doesn’t matter to anyone but me.
There is so much here for me to love. I only just came to it because, with the pandemic, I signed up for a couple more premium feeds.
Mostly, I adore the reveling in the past glory of pagan mythology, as mostly Irish as I am. I have a crush on Mad Sweeney, just like Laura Moon, and I am not ashamed to say it.
Which is so funny, because when I was doing the iMDb search, I realized that the actor’s name is Pablo Schreiber, the half-brother of Liev Schreibner. So, yeah, Jewish but also just crazy-weird almost Luddite. And it just goes to show: it’s called acting for a reason!
I would be remiss to say that the convergence of African gods is not heady as well. Just not my history, but still something I ought to respect.
And the New Gods are fantastic. Missing Gillian Anderson as Media goes without saying.
And the episode of Kristin Chenowith as Easter with all the variations of Jesus (including Jeremy Davies as Jesus Prime) was one of the best things I’ve ever seen on TV.
And so, I anxiously await Season 3. Because it ain’t over yet. Laura Moon has ass to kick.
Of course, she’ll ask nicely first. But only once.
So here is another poem. I am working towards getting this collection published.
on your lips,
on your tongue:
how we climb
rung by rung.
on my hands,
in my hair:
is your name
is The Stair.