It’s Sunday. It’s quite rainy and windy and grey outside, and I crave hot chocolate. We have no milk. And due to the weather I really don’t wanna go to a shop to fetch milk neither.
I’m also slightly hungover. Not enough to drop work if I get a shift tonight. Just enough to feel slightly miserable and nauseated. But then again, if I get a shift, I have to leave the house and enter a grocery shop anyways, and I can buy milk. So that’s a thing.
In other news: Our Internet provider decided that the street we live in is overloaded. Again. So they reduced our Internet speed. Again. Now we are three family units sharing a 1 Mbit wireless connection. I can barely read online newspapers because of pictures taking forever to load. Facebook is a pain. And YouTube and Netflix is basically not even worth trying. Want an example? I reloaded my blog in my browser, and Husband’s Diablo III character died due to latency.
So we’re kinda angry about that.
But then again, barely any Internet is a great excuse to play Final Fantasy IV on my DS, so there’s always that.
Husband brought some new movies we hadn’t seen (or, at least I hadn’t seen any of them) when he came home Wednesday. Among them was the animated movie Epic. So we watched it.
I went in with healthy skepticism. I hadn’t heard anything about this movie. I knew it came out, yes, but I don’t even know if anyone I know have even watched it.
I loved it.
And of course my brain found something to obsess about for the whole movie. You see, this is part of the soundtrack:
And my brain was, like, “Where have I heard this before?”
Half an hour after the movie was done, though, my brain finally remembered. Listen to this:
Although not as “completely identical” as my brain insisted on, they have a lot of similarities. And there is such a relief to actually find the thing your brain is looking for. You’re trying to remember something that’s just slipping your memory several times, before you finally can pinpoint it.
But back to the movie. I loved it. If you like things like a tiny society of people in the forest, watch this. It’s quite epic indeed.
Since Halloween/Samhain is right around the corner, I want to tell you about my favourite piece of classical music.
And no. I don’t love it solely because the composer and I basically have the same name.
This piece of music makes me want to put on a really large black skirt, head to the nearest cemetery on midnight, Halloween, and dance. But since this might be the most offensive and disrespectful thing I ever wanted in my whole life, I’ll pass. I might not always be the most considerate thing in the world, but there are some things I just won’t do.
Some snipped-out information from the Wikipedia article:
According to legend, “Death” appears at midnight every year on Halloween. Death calls forth the dead from their graves to dance for him while he plays his fiddle (here represented by a solo violin). His skeletons dance for him until the rooster crows at dawn, when they must return to their graves until the next year. The piece opens with a harp playing a single note, D, twelve times (the twelve strokes of midnight) which is accompanied by soft chords from the string section. The solo violin enters playing the tritone consisting of an A and an E-flat—in an example of scordatura tuning, the violinist’s E string has actually been tuned down to an E-flat to create the dissonant tritone. The first theme is heard on a solo flute, followed by the second theme, a descending scale on the solo violin which is accompanied by soft chords from the string section. The first and second themes, or fragments of them, are then heard throughout the various sections of the orchestra. The piece becomes more energetic and at its midpoint, right after a contrapuntal section based on the second theme, there is a direct quote played by the woodwinds of the Dies Irae, a Gregorian chant from the Requiem that is melodically related to the work’s second theme. The Dies Irae is presented unusually in a major key. After this section the piece returns to the first and second themes and climaxes with the full orchestra playing very strong dynamics. Then there is an abrupt break in the texture and the coda represents the dawn breaking (a cockerel’s crow, played by the oboe) and the skeletons returning to their graves.
The piece makes particular use of the xylophone to imitate the sounds of rattling bones. Saint-Saëns uses a similar motif in the Fossils movement of The Carnival of the Animals.
There are also some different videos that I found on YouTube that I also found to be pretty neat.