A story entwined within a story, in a world where the tales of Jade Dragon and the Old Man on the Moon may not just be myths. Where the Mountain Meets the Moon is about a girl on a journey to change her family’s fortune. This beautiful and heartwarming novel won a Newbery Honor in 2010. Grace Lin’s rich, interwoven world of magic and myth, accompanied by her glowing illustrations, makes this book both compelling and entertaining.
Jacket Description:
“In the valley of Fruitless mountain, a young girl named Minli lives in a ramshackle hut with her parents. In the evenings, her father regales her with old folktales of the Jade Dragon and the Old Man on the Moon, who knows the answers to all of life’s questions. Inspired by these stories, Minli sets off on an extraordinary journey to find the Old Man on the Moon to ask him how she can change her family’s fortune. She encounters an assorted cast of characters and magical creatures along the way, including a dragon who accompanies her on her quest for the ultimate answer.”
“Before Grace Lin was an award-winning and NY Times bestselling author/illustrator of picturebooks, early readers and middle grade novels, she was the only Asian girl (except for her sisters) going to her elementary school in Upstate NY. That experience, good and bad, has influenced her books—including her Newbery Honor Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, her Geisel Honor Ling & Ting, her National Book Finalist When the Sea Turned to Silver and her Caldecott Honor A Big Mooncake for Little Star. But, it also causes Grace to persevere for diversity as an occasional New England Public Radio commentator and when she gave her TEDx talk “The Windows and Mirrors of Your Child’s Bookshelf,” as well as her PBSNewHour video essay “What to do when you realize classic books from your childhood are racist?.” She continued this mission with a hundred episodes of the podcast kidlitwomen and now currently hosts two other podcasts: Book Friends Forever and Kids Ask Authors. In 2016, Grace’s art was displayed at the White House and Grace, herself, was recognized by President Obama’s office as a Champion of Change for Asian American and Pacific Islander Art and Storytelling.”
Grace Lin can also be found on her Instagram: @pacylin
A popular Easter tradition is that of the easter egg hunt when children collect plastic eggs filled with candy. These treats are said to be left by the Easter Bunny. The character of the Easter Bunny is mysterious and somewhat disconnected from the holiday he represents. What does a rabbit that hides eggs have to do with the Christian holiday celebrating the resurrection of Christ? And for that matter, where do the eggs come from? Does the bunny lay them? That’s not biologically accurate, right?
Although we don’t know the rabbit’s exact origins as a symbol for Easter, we do know that they have long been associated with fertility and springtime in pagan traditions. Eggs have also been connected to fertility. As Christianity spread, it absorbed preexisting symbols and traditions. It is possible that the rabbit and eggs we associate with Easter celebrations were symbols of a pagan spring festival, which was combined with Easter and adopted into the Christian tradition.
The Easter Bunny as we know him can be traced to German immigrants in Pennsylvania in the 1700s. Their children built nests for the rabbit they called “Osterhase.” On Easter morning, their nests would be filled with dyed eggs. This custom became popular across America. Over time the eggs were replaced with chocolate and other candies.
So that is the origin of the beloved Easter Bunny. When you’re collecting eggs next year, remember where he comes from and how he was able to bring some sweetness to your Easter morning!
Last year, a new show aired on the Discovery channel called “Dino Hunters,” and it brought to my attention how some of the behind-the-scenes aspects of Paleontology work. The truth is, it’s not as simple as professional Paleontologists finding fossils and bringing them back to a lab where they can be studied. Private landowners actually find many fossils (at least in America). With even some of the most famous fossils being discovered by them (i.e., “Sue” the T. Rex, and the “Dueling Dinosaurs”).
For me, this brings up the complicated question of ownership and whose rights should take priority — Science, Land Owners, or Dino Hunters? For example, the “Dueling Dinosaurs” fossil was found in 2006 by Clayton Phipps, Mark Eatman, and Chad O’Connor. This amazing scientific discovery of an adolescent Tyrannosaurus and a Triceratops presumably locked in combat at the time of their deaths was an incredibly unique find! Where the complication comes in is that the specimen was found on land owned by two different families, the Seversons (who held mineral rights on the land) and the Murrays (who owned the actual land). Due to ownership disputes, the fossil remained unstudied by Paleontologists for over 14 years. Fortunately, after the very long legal dispute, it was sold to the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences. However, it was offered to several other buyers, including private fossil collectors.
The Dueling Dinosaurs
I believe private fossil collection can be detrimental to Paleontology. Private collectors have the right to do whatever they want with their property. They could potentially dismantle a fossil that they own and even sell each piece individually, resulting in a loss of control and access for scientific study. As I’ve stated in my previous articles, our understanding is constantly changing and growing due to intense study and new discoveries. Such as a fossil being an undiscovered species or having preserved pieces that other specimens of the same animal don’t. To optimize the potential growth of understanding, specimens have to stay accessible and remain relatively unaltered to be studied properly. If these specimens go into private hands, that results in an inability to study and therefore impedes growth.
But on the other side of the picture are the landowners and Dino Hunters. As highlighted in the “Dino Hunters” show, ranchers turn to fossil hunting as a way to support themselves and their families, as ranching isn’t as profitable as it used to be. Honestly, I can understand why they would try to get as much money as possible for their work. I can also appreciate how “Dino Hunters” has brought to the attention of the general public information regarding private fossil collection and the magic and work that goes into the process of discovering fossils.
As someone passionate about the field of Paleontology, I would love it if all fossil specimens were exclusively under the care of Scientists. Dinosaurs should be more than just trinkets and property of the extremely wealthy. For it’s through scientific study that we can understand and care about these magnificent creatures. So that we all have the privilege to own our planet’s history.
The opinions made in this article do not necessarily reflect that of The Lighthouse
Otamatones are strange instruments shaped like a musical eighth note invented in Japan that sound a bit like synthesizers. They are typically played with two hands, one to press the notes on its “stem” and the other two open and close the mouth on its “head.” It is advertised as being easy to pick up and play but difficult to master. In recent years, they have become rather popular online with the rise of Otamatone covers by TheRealSullyG and others on YouTube. However, especially given that they were invented in Japan, finding the history behind them and their creation requires a bit more of a deep dive.
Maywa Denki was an electric company owned by Hanachi Tosa. The company primarily produced vacuum tubes as a subcontract factory for Toshiba and Matsushita Electric, but the company went bankrupt and shut down due to the 1979 Oil Shock, a huge economic event with devastating effects. Fourteen years later, the name was reused by Tosa’s two sons, Masamichi and Nobumichi Tosa, as a design firm/art unit.
The two worked together on a series of three lines of products. Firstly, their “Naki” series, which are “nonsense objects” designed with a fish motif. Secondly, their “Edelweiss” series, more artistic creations but instead created with flower motifs. Thirdly, and perhaps most well known, their “Tsukuba” line, which included all of their various musical instrument inventions. The brothers performed many live shows with their instruments and inventions, creating several albums in the process.
In 2001, eight years after the founding of the art unit, Masamichi retired at the age of 35, leaving Nobumichi as the president of the company. Nobumichi continued to create artistic marvels and instruments. He earned various awards for his art and live performances, featuring in a number of expositions and events both in Japan and overseas.
2009 marked the birth of our titular hero, the Otamatone, from the creative hand of Nobumichi Tosa. The company started a new series called the “Voice Mechanics Series” with the Otamatone at its forefront. It was a near-immediate success and sold approximately 120,000 units domestically and internationally, winning itself a toy award in Japan in 2010.
Since the release of the note-shaped instrument, its success has only continued to peak. It began to catch the attention of more potential customers, especially with the popularity of Otamatone covers of pre-existing songs. The main performer of these covers, TheRealSullyG, has more than 800,000 subscribers and has inspired several other creators to follow in his example, creating their own songs with the instrument. Though its primary function is playing music, some artists also use it as a subject of photography. Today, Maywa Denki continues to release different variants of their original Otamatone in various sizes, colors, and branded characters. If you want to get your hands on one of these electronic oddities, most versions of the instrument can be found online at around $20. Whether you are a casual instrumentalist, a kid who wants to annoy their parents with its high-pitched “wah”s, or a collector of the weird, the Otamatone has something for everyone.
Much of this article was researched with the help of Google Translate, and as a result, some information may be inaccurate or mistranslated.
Due to the current circumstances with COVID-19, many places like museums and zoos cannot offer their usual experiences to visitors, and, unfortunately, many exhibits and events had to be canceled. However, some places are slowly beginning to admit guests through staggered ticket entry at 25% of their normal capacity, and visitors who can comply with the mandatory safety procedures are starting to be admitted. Additionally, some organizations offer virtual exhibits and online performances in place of visiting, and there are many great online experiences available to enjoy if you know where to find them.
The Asian Art Museum in San Francisco offers in-person visits for those who take necessary precautions, but they also have tickets for online programs and lectures available to purchase on their website. They also have thousands of images of artworks and objects in their free online collection, as well as short slideshows that are available on Google Arts and Culture.
The Monterey Bay Aquarium is not allowing visitors yet, but they are preparing to reopen soon. In the meantime, there are many fun things to explore on their website, including live cams, exhibit highlight videos, and dozens of articles about the animals at the aquarium and their stories. The aquarium is also offering free online courses for kids from PreK to twelfth grade.
The exploratorium is currently closed to the public, but they hope to reopen soon. At the moment, they are offering some free online events and virtual programs available to members. They also have free instruction pages for hundreds of fun science experiments available on their website.
The San Francisco Ballet will not be open during their 2021 season, but they are working hard to provide digital resources to their audience. Currently, they have digital season packages available for purchase, which gives audiences access to stream various ballet performances. Available performances include Swan Lake and Romeo and Juliet. They also have a lecture series available for free on their website.
“Stop lying!” General Rotia snarled. “I know you’re part of the rebellion.”
“No, you don’t, because I’m not,” Kane said from his chair, preparing himself to tell his carefully practiced story of who he was.
Rotia grabbed him by his shirt and lifted him so they were face-to-face. Kane’s feet strained as he tried to stand on tip-toes. Her breath was hot in his face, “How else would you have known about the map?”
“I don’t know about your map.” Kane tried to breathe conviction into his next words, “I’m telling you, I was only on that ship because I thought there would be money. I’m a thief, not a rebel.”
“It means the same thing, boy.”
“No, it doesn’t!” Kane gasped, his collar digging into the back of his neck. “A thief doesn’t have ulterior motives. Those rebels do.”
“And what are their motives?”
“Crushing Carellia and seizing power for themselves. It says so,” he wheezed. “On all the wanted posters.”
Rotia loosened her grip on Kane’s shirt slightly and he was able to stand properly.
He added, “the difference between them and me is that I’m willing to work for Carellia.”
Rotia snorted, “And what would you do, clean the latrines?”
“I’m a thief,” he said as if that explained everything.
“Not a very good one. The only thing of value on that ship was stolen from right under your nose,” Rotia said. “I have no desire to hire a dauvish thief whose loyalty shifts with gold. Especially not one who was caught stealing from me.”
“I never actually stole anything.”
“You are not helping your case.” She was calmer now, almost indifferent. “No, I need your information, not your services.”
“I don’t see why I should give it to you.”
General Rotia looked down at him, her face hard. “You will give it to me because you don’t want to be hanged at sunrise tomorrow morning.”
“Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Your accomplice. He knew about the map.”
“If you’re talking about the other thief, she wasn’t my accomplice. But yes, I assume she knew about the map. It was the only thing she took, as far as I could tell.”
“She was a woman? You saw her face?”
“Yeah, I saw her face. I didn’t know there were rebels that young. I thought they were all older. She was probably the same age as me.”
“She was a rebel then?”
“I assume so,” Kane shrugged. “You said only a rebel would know about your map.”
General Rotia looked thoughtful, but not completely disbelieving. “Could you describe her?”
“Well, she was dauvish. Taller than me, I’d say. And she had curly hair. That’s all I could see. It was dark. I’m surprised the patrol didn’t catch her. She must not have been in the town.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, they searched the whole place, didn’t they? But they didn’t search the boats. If I was hiding from the patrol, that’s where I’d go.”
Kane had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but Rotia looked thoughtful. Kane wondered if the thief had escaped by boat. If so, he had no idea where to start looking for her or the map. They’d been so close to getting it and now, because of him, they’d have to start all over. He’d really messed things up.
“Give him to the guards to lock up,” General Rotia said to Gustov, pulling a pencil out of her graying blond braid. “I need time to think. You and your crew will stay at the fort until I decide what to do with you.”
Night had fallen and the hallway outside the library was dark. The main corridors of Fort Goranhall were better taken care of than the back passageway Gustov had used to sneak them in, but it was still the worse for wear. The carpets were worn and lanterns hung only every so often on the walls. The hallway was empty except for the guards in front of the library door. Kane stumbled between Gustov and Erika, his eyes watering from exhaustion. The hallway faded in and out of the darkness. He didn’t know how long they walked. It seemed like ages.
Gustov shoved him through a doorway and his eyes opened with a snap.
“Captain Gustov,” said the guard at the door in surprise. “We weren’t sure if you were coming back.”
“I live to see another day,” Gustov said, stepping into the moonlight.
The guard squinted at Gustov’s crew, who were filing out after their captain. “I don’t suppose you left the general in peace as she asked?”
“Important business. Couldn’t wait until morning. We have a prisoner for you.”
The guard shook his head in amazement as he took Kane’s chain from Gustov.
Gustov grinned, “Well, I’ve got to get my crew some food. Can you handle the prisoner?”
He nodded, still amused. “Goodnight, Sir.”
Kane let himself be led under the firm grip of the guard. He was too tired to protest.
The entrance to the prison was in a small building next to the wall of the fort. The guard led him down a steep, almost pitch-black staircase. At the bottom, it opened up in a hallway lined with cells. The room stank and its closeness to the river made it damp and cold. The icy air washed over Kane as he stumbled past huddled clusters of prisoners. Almost all the cells were full. At the very end of the room, the guard stopped at a cell half the size of the others, with a solid wooden door instead of bars. He unlocked it and opened the door.
“In you go.”
The door closed behind Kane with a clang. Kane stumbled in the ankle-deep mud. The cell was narrow and nearly pitch black. All he could make out were shadows. Something moved. He looked up. His eyes hadn’t fully adjusted to the dark, but he could see the shape of someone standing towards the back of the cell.
“Who’s there?” He couldn’t keep the quiver out of his voice, both from cold and fear.
“Hey, don’t worry. I’m not going to ambush you.” She sounded familiar. “I’m Esti.”
“Oh! It’s you!” He swayed where he stood, a wave of tiredness hitting him. “You were…on the prison cart.”
“Are you alright?” Her voice was closer.
“I’m fine.” He tried to move, but stumbled. His shackles held his arms awkwardly behind his back.
“You’re caught,” Esti said. “Here, let me help you.” She bent down and tugged the chain where it was stuck. “Don’t pull against me, I can’t unhook you if you do that.”
“You’re the one who’s pulling.”
“Step towards the door to give it some slack. There you go.” Esti straightened and brushed the mud off the chain. The end that wasn’t binding Kane’s wrists had another handcuff attached to it. She inspected the cuff. “You know, this isn’t a complicated lock. If the ones on your wrists are the same, I might be able to get it off for you.”
“Really?”
Esti nodded. “It’s drier on that side. We can sit over there and I’ll work on it.”
Kane followed her to the back of the cell. It was darker there, but the floor was hard and less muddy. Esti sat them down next to her sleeping father.
“Is…is he alright?” Kane whispered.
“He’ll be okay,” She looked down at her father, brows knitting. “So long as I get him out soon. Turn around so I can work on the shackles.” She pulled a pin out of her hair and brandished it like a sword.
“Careful!” Kane yelped. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Don’t worry,” she grinned, seeming glad to have something to do. “I’ve done it before.”
“If you say so.”
Kane turned around, still wary, and Esti began to pick the lock. It was an awkward position with both hands behind his back, but he tried to be patient with the constant tugging on his wrists. It reminded him of back home when he was little, and Jamal had tried to scrub his hair. Jamal was always the one who’d taken care of those sorts of things before Kane learned to do them himself. His mother was nearly always too busy; having meetings and talking with important people.
“That’s the first one,” Esti said. She freed his wrist and Kane sighed in relief, shaking out his arm to get the blood circulating again.
“You have no idea how good it feels to have my hands more than a foot apart,” he said, laughing. More seriously he added, “Thank you.”
“Of course. Here, give me your other hand and I’ll do the next one.” As she started to pick the lock, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Oh! I’m Kane. Sorry.”
She laughed. “That’s okay.”
He watched her jiggle the hairpin in the lock, twisting it from left to right. He closed his eyes, leaning his head on his free hand. “Do you know why we’re the only ones in this cell? The rest looked full.”
“I think this is the high-security cell. For potential rebels.”
“You’re a potential rebel?”
“You heard my father on the cart, didn’t you? He was caught stealing from the patrol camp.”
Kane chose not to mention that stealing food wasn’t usually a reason to be arrested as a potential rebel. Instead, he asked, “But you weren’t caught? Then why are you here?”
“I couldn’t let him go alone. Our family has already been separated enough.”
“That’s…very brave of you.”
“Or stupid,” she sighed, pushing her dark hair out of her face. “I didn’t have time to think of a better plan.”
Kane shrugged. “My brother used to say that no plan is stupid until you look back on it. And then there’s almost always a better solution. But you can’t blame yourself for not seeing it at the time.”
“He sounds very philosophical,” Esti said, lifting Kane’s wrist to get a better angle on the lock. There was a click and it sprang open.
Kane shook his hand out. “He was philosophical sometimes. But most of the time he was getting everyone into trouble by daring them to climb roofs or something. He was kind of a natural leader, but he liked pranks. It drove our mother crazy.” He yawned, remembering how tired he was.
“Did you sleep on the cart ride?” Esti asked. Kane realized she’d been studying him.
“No.”
“You look exhausted, you should try to rest.”
Kane shrugged and lay down on the cold dirt. He was exhausted, but he didn’t think he could sleep. There was too much to think about, what with his failure to get the map and the fact that he was in a Carellian prison. There was no way he’d fall asleep with everything on his — Kane’s eyes closed and he drifted off before he could finish his thought.
The Eastern Carellian army headquarters loomed over the barley fields of Danabe. Built long before the Carellian invasions, Fort Goranhall used to be a Danabian fortress. Its stone walls had given protection to Danabians in times of war and had housed their army. At least, that’s what it was supposed to do. The Carellians had broken through those defenses during the invasions, and now the fortress, and the country, were controlled by Carellia’s army.
Fort Goranhall stood on the banks of the Goru, at the convergence of the Yet and Sti rivers, its size dwarfed by the immensity of the Goru. The Goru river was as wide as a lake in some places. Anyone who wished to cross it had to take a ferry, and all ports in or out of Danabe were closely guarded by the Carellians, making the land effectively a prison to its people.
Kane wished he could see the river instead of the gray, windowless stone walls of the fortress. The air was dank, with a muddy sort of humidity, and the passages were dimly lit. His neck prickled from dried sweat. What he would give to jump in the refreshing water and let his problems float away. Joining a mission was not what he’d expected or hoped it would be. His feet ached, and his hands stung. So far, this trip had been more exhausting than exciting. Now that the adrenaline of capture had worn off, he felt drained. Why use energy on worry? The worst was passed. He’d go to jail; he’d sit in a cell. It would be dark probably. Cool. He could sleep. Sleep, sleep would feel goo–
A jerk on his shackles sent him lurching forward. Jamal’s hand barely prevented him from crashing face-first onto the stone floor. Kane caught his balance and looked up. They had stopped in front of a wooden door. Captain Gustov pushed it open.
“The general doesn’t usually see people this late in the day, so we’re going to bypass the guards.” He waved them through the doorway but stopped Jamal. “You might want to wait here; the general doesn’t trust duaves, even those who are working for her.”
Jamal shook his head. “I’m coming, Sir.”
Captain Gustov probably thought Jamal wanted to prove his worth, but Kane knew Jamal was coming to stay with him, and he was grateful.
Behind the door was a spiral staircase, just as shadowy as the passages before. They stamped up the stairs in single file. At the top was another door, which the pirates shuffled through, Kane and Jamal last. When Kane stepped through the door, the sunlight dazzled him. He shook his curls out of his face and gaped over the vast swaths of barley stretching below to his right. The great Goru flowed steadily on his left, stretching so wide that he could barely see the opposite shore. And dwarfing it all were the Baikans, snowcapped and rocky, towering in the distance. He breathed in the clear air. It was beautiful.
Captain Gustov seemed unfazed by the spectacular view from the walkway. “Hurry,” he said. “I want to finish talking to General Rotia before nightfall.”
They continued to the far tower, Kane soaking in the outside world. He’d heard Danabe was an incredible place before the invasions, and seeing it, he believed it. Canals cut through the green and golden fields, reaching as far as the eye could see. From far away, it was hard to believe that poverty and famine plagued the country. Kane looked back at the peaceful landscape as he stepped through the tower doorway. Why did it have to change? He sighed and ducked into the tower.
They stood at the top of a staircase that ran along the edge of the tower wall. Panels in the roof were open, allowing sunlight to fill the tower. At the bottom of the staircase, the tower opened into a large open room. In the center of the room, a long wooden table sugged under the weight of stacked maps and documents. Overflowing but dusty bookshelves lined the round walls. It must have been a library before the invasions, Kane thought.
A tall woman stood bending over a map at the table. She straightened at the sound of the tower door and turned to squint up at them through the late afternoon sun.
“Who is it?” Her voice wore armor. It sent shivers down Kane’s spine.
“General Rotia,” Captain Gustov sounded weak compared to the General. “It’s good to see you.”
“Captain Gustov,” General Rotia sounded disdainful. “I certainly hope, for your sake, I agree with you. This had better be important.”
Captain Gustov beckoned to his crew and walked down the stairs.
The general waited for him to stand in front of her, “Did you retrieve what I sent you to find?” Kane could tell she thought it unlikely.
He frowned, surprisingly calm for someone whose life depended on a map he did not have. After weighing his options, he spoke.
“We found the map, Ma’am.”
General Rotia raised her eyebrows. “Really?” She drew out the word. “Well, where is it?”
“It was stolen off our ship in Agora harbor.”
“I see.” The general clearly thought he was lying. “That is very disappointing.”
“Indeed, Ma’am,” Captain Gustov said, pretending he thought she believed him. “However, we captured the thief’s accomplice. Erika?”
Erika took the chain from Jamal and led Kane forward. General Rotia’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch, then narrowed as she turned to Gustov. Her voice was icy.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Captain, but if you are lying, I assure you I will personally make the rest of your life a living hell.”
Gustov shifted his weight, not breaking eye contact with the general. “I understand. Shall I continue?”
She nodded.
“We had docked in Agora for the night, and I left two of my crew to guard the ship. They saw two figures on the ship. Jamal went for help, and Erika stayed. She says she shot her pistol in the air as a warning. One of the thieves jumped overboard, and Erika caught the other. By the time I got there, the curfew patrol had also arrived. In the confusion, we didn’t realize the map had been taken. By the time we did, the other thief had escaped.
“We sent out a search party but couldn’t find him. The patrol guards can confirm my story, at least, the part they were there for. I thought you should know as soon as possible, so we came directly from the harbor. You have more resources than I do. The thieves are Dauvish; they might be part of the rebellion.”
Kane’s insides shriveled as the general trained her hawklike stare on him. His blood pounded in his ears. There was no escaping it. Jamal needed to keep his cover as one of Gustov’s crew. He would have to do this alone.
General Rotia was speaking. “I admit, your story is plausible, Captain. If nothing else, you’ve brought a possible rebel, so you are not a complete disappointment. I am willing to let your failure to bring the map slide. Of course, you will have to make up for it, but it won’t be in prison.”
Gustov nodded gratefully, “Thank you; I am in your debt.”
“Undoubtedly.” General Rotia smiled. “Luckily for you, I may be in your debt as well.” She turned at Kane, and his blood froze. “You, on the other hand, are in a rather sticky situation.”
“You aren’t any use to me unless you have information, and I get rid of things that aren’t useful. However, if you do cooperate, I will limit your punishment to prison. You seem like a reasonable young man,” She sneered as she said it. “What will it be?”
“I’ll take prison, please,” Kane said, trying to keep his voice steady and failing spectacularly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jamal move, but he kept his eyes firmly on the general. “I have information.”
“Good. I’m glad we are on the same page.” She motioned to the chair she had not offered Gustov. “Why don’t you sit down so we can get started?”
On February 5th, 2021, the world lost another one of it’s greats. Christopher Plummer passed away at the age of 91 with a very full and celebrated career behind him. His work in film, television, and theater has changed how we think of many historical figures. Plummer has been in at least 96 films from the late 40s to present day. His portrayals of Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington in Waterloo (1970), Rudyard Kipling in The Man Who Would Be King (1975), and Leo Tolstoy in The Last Station (2009) and his extraordinary performance as Captain Georg von Trapp in The Sound of Music (1965) all attributed to his legacy. He was also known for his other work as fictional characters, such as his film debut playing Joe Sheridan in Stage Struck (1958), Knives Out (2019) and Ron Howard’s A Beautiful Mind (2001).
Photo Credit Getty Times
Christopher Plummer was born December 13th, 1929 in Toronto, Canada. He lived with his parents John and Isabella Mary Plummer, he was an only child and when his parents divorced Plummer and his mother moved to Sennevill, Quebec just outside of Montreal. He started acting while attending the High School of Montreal and developed a deep love for the theater and concert pianists. Plummer never attended any University in his life which is one of his regrets.
Photo Credit Vulture
Plummer made his acting debut in 1948 at the Montreal Repertory Theatre alongside William Shatner. In 1952, he starred in a number of productions at the Bermudiana Theatre, Edward Everett Horton hired him to appear as Gerard in the 1953 roadshow production of André Roussin’s Nina,
Photo Credit Vanity Fair
He changed the lives of so many people and helped shape musical cinema today, his co-star Julie Andrews told NBC news “The world has lost a consummate actor today and I have lost a cherished friend,” and “I treasure the memories of our work together and all the humor and fun we shared through the years.” Plummer’s friend, family and the world will remember and thank him for the happy memories and some happy tears that he has given us.
Snap. Clank. Jangle. The shackles binding Kane’s hands jingled as the prison cart thumped over yet another bump in the road. Curse that girl. If it wasn’t for her, he’d already be across the border and getting the map back to the rebellion. Instead, he was sitting in a cramped prison cart squashed against half a dozen other prisoners of Carellia. The cart was a pungent box of trapped stench. The heat of the day made it stuffy with heat, and dust from the road clouded the stagnant air.
Kane shifted to a more comfortable position. He’d been squished in this infernal cart for three days now. Somehow that pirate captain –Gustov? Yes, Gustov– had convinced the curfew guards he was following orders from a Carellion general. They’d agreed to escort him to the Carellion Army headquarters, and Kane was put in the prison cart along with the rest of the prisoners being transferred. He couldn’t imagine why the guards had believed Captain Gustov, but they had, and now Agora was days behind him.
“So, what’d you do?” A balding old man asked the man next to him, who looked like he’d been uprooted from the heart of a forest.
The man grunted and shrugged.
“Well, I took some bread from a house,” said the old man, seemingly undeterred by the other’s lack of interest. “‘Sept it wasn’t a house,” he continued, “it was the patrol camp.” The old man chortled and nudged the ragged woman next to him, “That’s the third time this week the patrol ‘as caught me, i’nit Esti? Guess they got tired of catchin’ me stealin’ food, finally decided to lock me up er somethin’. Dunno why you had to come along, though.”
The young woman sighed brokenly and leaned against the wall. “Pa, please just give it a rest.”
He patted her shoulder, “It’ll be okay, Esti, they’ll probably let us go. The jails are pretty near full, I’d reckon.”
Kane looked away. He couldn’t stand the sadness these people had to face. The jails were indeed full. Full of innocent people whose only crimes were defying the tyrannical Carellion soldiers’ orders or stealing out of their desperation to feed their families. Few real criminals were arrested anymore. The Carellion invasions had brought nothing but destruction and hardship to the Arklands, and the Carellion soldiers didn’t care about the people whose lives they uprooted. Kane knew all too well that the queen of Carellia was willing to do anything to get the power she thought should be hers. Kane couldn’t let the map fall in her hands or any other agent of the queen. Not after all the rebellion had gone through to keep the relic pieces safe from Carellia.
Ugh! Kane raked his grimy hands through his equally dirty hair. How had that girl even known about the map? Few people knew, let alone believed, the legends anymore. She couldn’t be any ordinary thief. No dauvish thief could outlast the Carellion Army on their own. Dauves were arrested on sight to ensure no rebels could escape. Being dauvish was a crime in itself, even if you weren’t a rebel. She must be working for someone. It was the only explanation he could think of. And it was the least of his concerns right now. He needed to get the map. The fate of the rebellion depended on it. And to get the map, he would have to do the impossible; break out of a Carellion prison.
As if to remind him of his situation, the cart lurched, yanking his shackles painfully. The rough metal dug into his wrists. The cart lurched again and rolled to a stop.
Kane heard boots crunching in the dirt, the shouts of soldiers, the creaking of a gate being opened. The cart groaned and began to move. The sounds of people and equipment grew louder.
“This way, corporal.” The voice was gravelly. “Any top security prisoners?”
“Mostly the usual, sir, although we did escort some men who say they’re working for General Rotia, and they brought a duaf.”
“Shouldn’t require extra security?”
“No, sir.”
“As you were, corporal.”
The cart had stopped again. Kane strained his ears to get a sense of what was happening, but the clanking of shackles from the other prisoners made it impossible to hear anything definite. All of a sudden, everyone in the cart stood as if it was some pre-choreographed motion, and Kane was hauled up by the wrists. His wrists screamed in protest. Sunlight flooded in. “Everyone out, no funny business,” barked the corporal, jerking the chain.
Eyes watering, Kane stumbled after the rest of the prisoners. He had no choice, after all. Kane tried to get his bearing, swaying a little as the rush of sunlight and nausea overwhelmed him. He would forever hate carts, that was for sure.
Someone detached him from the rest of the prisoners, shoving him gently towards a doorway.
“Just hang in there, okay?” a familiar voice whispered in his ear. “We’re going to figure this out.”
“Jamal!”
“Shh, keep it down, they don’t know I’m with you, remember? Just don’t do anything stupid, and we’ll be okay.”
Kane sagged with exhaustion and relief. Jamal would figure this out. Hope wasn’t lost just yet. He shifted so his brother’s broad back partially blocked the blinding sun, giving him a chance to adjust his eyes. His entire body felt lead-weighted. Having slept on the cart ride would have been wise, but there was no help for that now.
“Captain, I have the thief!” Jamal raised his voice above the hubbub of soldiers and horses.
“Good,” Captain Gustov strode up with the rest of his crew. His face was set, and Kane could’ve sworn he looked worried. “We’ll take the boy to the General and explain the situation.”
“Captain!” It was a rather skinny young pirate who spoke. “Do you really think she’ll let us off for not bringing what she asked? We lost the map! You said yourself we’d be in trouble if–”
“Silence, Lorenzo!” All doubt left Gustov’s face. “I will not tolerate you contradicting me. You wanted a spot on this crew, didn’t you? Now act like you meant it.”
Lorenzo mumbled something that sounded like “yes, father.” Kane glanced at him curiously. It hadn’t occurred to him pirating was a profession one passed down; he’d always thought of pirates as cold and ruthless, without family ties. He scanned the rest of the crew, intrigued. His eyes landing on the backlit figure of Erika. His captor. He gritted his teeth. She was a ruthless pirate. He might have escaped if it hadn’t been for her. He might even have gotten the map from that slippery thief’s hands if the pistol fire hadn’t startled him into letting her go.
Gustov, who had been talking to some soldiers, turned to his crew. “Alright, men, we are going to meet with General Rotia to give her the report. When we get there, I’ll do the talking.” He looked pointedly at Lorenzo, then continued, “Stand respectfully and quietly. I want to leave here with both our dignity and our heads intact.”
And with that dire thought planted in their minds, Captain Gustov led them through the door and towards their destiny.
Allosaurus is a large, carnivorous theropod dinosaur that lived during the Jurassic period in North America around 155 to 145 million years ago. Fully-grown adults could be over 28 feet long and weigh more than 2 tons. It was named Allosaurus (meaning, different/other lizard) for its, at the time, unique, concave vertebrae. It has dozens of sharp, serrated teeth and a relatively light, but still strong, skull. The most well-known species of Allosaurus is called Allosaurus fragilis (meaning fragile). However, it is visibly very far from fragile, as several fossils show healed (or partially healed) puncture wounds that fit Stegosaurus tail spikes. Nearly all stages of Allosaurus life have been discovered as fossils, from possible eggs all the way to fully grown adults. As with some other large predatory dinosaurs, an interesting part of Allosaurus is that juveniles have comparatively longer legs than the adults and possibly hunted different prey.
The Lighthouse 