Another busy set of days–lots of catching up to do, and I’m going to do it too, so beware: a flurry of posts awaits. This is just a hint of the promise of things to come, a cool winter photo I grabbed from a Tumblr search with the keyword “winter.” I am nothing if not a scupulous found photo detective. Enjoy.
I’m surprised there’s no real discussion about Snow White’s magical revival–where exactly was the magic? It’s implied that she’s been put “under a spell” but the weapon wasn’t a “magic apple” but a “poison apple.’ The Dwarfs–Sleepy, Grouchy, Hungry, Horny, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur and Thorin Oakenshield–clearly thought she was dead, or they wouldn’t have laid her out in that nifty glass coffin that keeps all the forest creatures from gnawing on her surprisingly supple flesh–but doesn’t keep Young Prince Necrophile from snagging a little sugar from her moldering corpse. Gives you something to think about, eh?
Forgetting that unfortunate perversion theme, we must wonder: the magic was in the kiss? What am I forgetting? Why does she wake up? Why did she, um, remain so, er, fresh. Doesn’t really matter, because the point is–and we’re all in agreement, yes?–that she was dead. And then, not so much. A man has to wonder: is “not dead” always the same as alive, or….
Maybe she was exposed to a huge dose of Gamma Rays at the exact time she bit into the apple?
I know, it’s unlikely–but a guy can hope, right? The alternative is just too disturbing to ponder.
I’m not talking about a mere deal with the devil, although that would do.
But something more…unnatural.