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Miscellania

Miscellania

Resources:
The Comics Code
Field Trip to Mississippi
Marvel Writers & Artists
Origami Rogue

Issue-specific:
My X-Men #81 Rant
UXM #359: It Takes a Mother's Touch
The Original Script of Uncanny X-Men #359

Essays:
Rogue Defined
Rogue's Hair
X-Men as Morality Play

Humor:
The Fan-Fic Drinking Game
Pros and Cons of Marrying an X-Man
Things We'd Like to See in X-Men
Top 10 Reasons Not to Marry an X-Man
What I Learned from Reading the X-Books
Top 15 Signs You Read Too Many Comic Books
You Know You Read/Write Too Much Fan-Fiction When...

Misc:
The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.

I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love,
for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.

I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
If you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own;
if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of
your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, or
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true.

I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day,
and if you source your life from ITS presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand
on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where, or what, or with whom you have studied.

I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself,
and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

 


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