2:42 AM:

See, it's like this. For quite some time, I've had metaphorical fault lines running beneath the surface of my life, with two of the biggest ones being labeled "Religion" and "Family." Over the years, an increasing amount of pressure has been building up along these lines, despite various containment techniques and occasional very small, controlled slides induced in order to stave off The Big One.

I don't think The Big One has hit yet, but I definitely experienced an earthquake on Tuesday night, and the aftershocks still haven't stopped.

I'm not going to get into exactly what set it off here. I'm not sure it matters much; it was only a catalyst anyway. (A catalyst I'm still pretty damn upset about, but never mind that.) All that really matters is that I finally snapped, burning my bridges without fully intending to, realizing shortly thereafter that perhaps they'd failed to catch on fire after all, and realizing just after that that, actually, I kinda preferred them burnt.

I also finally realized that, hey, I live outside New York and have financial independence and don't have to have anything to do with my father anymore if I don't want to, this realization coming right on the heels of the realization that I quite definitely don't want to. So I left. And I'm not going back to New York for Passover after all, and that's just for starters.

In the meantime, my beard is about two inches shorter than it was yesterday, starting a trend that's expected to continue for the next couple of months. (A gradual disappearance seemed the best way to go, partly to avoid shocking everybody in school too much, and partly because it's winter in Michigan -- not the best time and place to chop off a built-in scarf all at once.) And the next time I end up at a bar, I might just give this alcohol stuff a try for a change. And, okay, a small but insistent voice in the back of my head has been making suggestions regarding pepperoni pizza (which is quite definitely not kosher), but, like I said above, this wasn't actually The Big One, and that voice has been suppressed.

Goodness knows where all this is going to end.

What the heck. Everybody else is doing it. Take the Shmuel quiz.

7:07 PM:

(WARNING: This entry contains spoilers for the book and film versions of Lord of the Rings.)

(Written Monday night, after having seen the film earlier in the day.)

So I saw The Fellowship of the Ring. I should probably say, first and foremost, that this was probably the best possible Hollywood film adaptation of an essentially unfilmable book. Well done, kudos to Jackson, it's a good introduction to the trilogy... and I never want to see it again. For that matter, I wish I'd waited to see it on video.

Because, man, what a violent movie. It's one damn battle after another, fight scene after fight scene. The occasional bits of scenery and exposition are but small breaks in the carnage, not -- as in the books -- the main point of the tale.

I should grant that I'd always skimmed the battle scenes in the books. The fight would start, I'd zoom to the end and see who was left standing. The best I could do to approximate that in the case of the film was close my eyes and put my fingers in my ears... which I did for a fairly large percentage of the time. Towards the end, I was actually tempted to go hide under my seat, but I managed to resist that impulse. But it was seriously scary.

(As it happened, I was sitting near the wall, which might perhaps account for the oppressively deafening sound volume throughout the film.)

Part of the problem, I suppose, is that turning the books into major motion pictures more or less demanded the imposition of a plot. See, in the books, the story is not the point. Neither is the characterization. The Lord of the Rings is all about the land of Middle Earth, and the end of the Third Age. The story of the Fellowship is a tool enabling Tolkein to show us the world in its time of transistion, nothing more. Cutting out Tom Bombadil, omitting all the songs and poetry, leaving out every bit of lore not immediately relevant to the tale of the Ring... it makes the movies possible, but it also entirely misses the point of the books.

I wonder, in fact, whether Jackson even plans to bother with the final scenes in the Shire, or whether he'll end the story after the Ring is destroyed.

(It occurs to me as I write this that for a film to really be true to the spirit of the books, it would probably have to be in documentary form.)

With that said, I loved Hobbiton. Seeing Bag End brought to life was a genuine treat, and the actor playing Bilbo was wonderful. I wouldn't mind seeing that bit again. Frodo was good; Sam wasn't too bad; Merry and Pippin were annoying as hell, but that was in character; Gandalf didn't blow my favorite line ("Fly, you fools!"), but didn't do it the way I'd always imagined it, either; Legolas and Gimli could have used more development (on the bright side, Legolas sure looked the part); Strider is supposed to be a closed book just now, so that's okay; Galadriel is an utterly impossible role for any mere mortal to live up to as written; and I'm not sure how I feel about Arwen.

As for the future, I'm looking forward to seeing the Ents in The Two Towers, although I'm already sure they're not going to be given the space and development neccessary to make them nearly as interesting as they are in the book. Still, I do expect to watch that film when it comes out on DVD.

But I also expect to fast-forward through Shelob's Lair, or at least to find something else to do while it's on, with the volume turned down low. Would that such an option had been available in the theatre.

(Written at the airport earlier today)

MY TRIP TO NEW YORK:

Four lovely days of friends, culture, and fresh kosher pizza, followed by my walking out of my brother's wedding in high dudgeon and (after a very brief detour at my parents' place to grab my luggage and plane ticket) proceeding directly to the airport, where I stayed the night. I don't plan to be back, unless I find someplace else to stay.

Bleah.