More Food: The Independent Living Cooking class made fried chicken, salad, and banana pudding today, and it all smells heavenly. It's a good thing they aren't making biscuits along with it, or I'd be really tempted to barge in there. (g) I love the kind of biscuits they serve at fried chicken restaurants--fluffy, lightly crusted, buttery, brushed with honey on top. Mmmmmmmm! When I go to Kentucky Fried Chicken I could care less about the chicken; what I want is their biscuits.
Note - The only annoying thing about Philly cheesesteak sandwiches is pulling the bell pepper bits out of them. Bleah, bell peppers.
Life: D. will be coming over to join us for dinner tonight and bringing rice and some kind of Oriental-style chicken.
Mr. Graves: That little bit of Paul that sort of missed the mental challenge of being a Death-Eater was convinced Wednesday morning that he absolutely no longer wanted to be a part of them. That's because I saw this made-for-TV movie starring Kenneth Branagh about the meeting in which the Nazi Holocaust was planned. It occurred to me that there were probably DE meetings similar to that, planning how to get rid of Muggles, and the little Paul in my head at that point said, "No. No more. No amount of mental challenge at all is worth feeling compelled to take part in something like that."
I think what's truest is that I had to stop 'missing it. A lot of what I find so exciting about Paul is his force of will, his intensity, and his intellect. Without some great foe to oppose, all that energy in him goes flat. But it was not enough for the Paul in my head to stop missing the few tiny shreds of DE-dom that he missed. I had to be the one to make the real change, because I, not Paul, am real.
The compulsion bit is what impresses me the most about that film. It is what makes it very very clear to the audience that this movie is not a story, with rising action, climax, and denouement. There are no heroes in it, for those who do try to oppose Branagh's character quickly realize that he and Hitler's regime are a train that cannot be stopped without great sacrifice--more of a sacrifice than those men are willing to make at that moment.
To me, the tragedy of that movie is human fear, the glancing around to see if anyone else is buying into the insanity and realizing that you are pretty much alone, that any protest you would make would fall on deaf ears.