The Revenge of the Over-40 Actress


A new Hollywood Reporter article suggests that fortunes are changing for a long-marginalized demographic. Back to Article


Gordon Franklin Terry Sr

Gordon Terry

We discussed this phenomena in film school 20 years ago . . . stars like Fred Astaire, 53 being paired with starlets like Audrey Hepburn aged 23 occurred because of MONEY and clout with the studio . . .

Now, Women are enjoying the same successes Men enjoyed and careers are reflecting similar senses of longevity.

by Samuel Coleridge
Part VI
First Voice: '"But tell me, tell me! speak again,
Thy soft response renewing?
What makes that ship drive on so fast?
What is the Ocean doing?"

Second Voice: "Still as a slave before his lord, 415
The Ocean hath no blast;
His great bright eye most silently
Up to the Moon is cast?

If he may know which way to go;
For she guides him smooth or grim. 420
See, brother, see! how graciously
She looketh down on him."

The Mariner hath been cast into a trance; for the angelic power causeth the vessel to drive northward faster than human life could endure. First Voice: "But why drives on that ship so fast,
Without or wave or wind?"

Second Voice: "The air is cut away before, 425
And closes from behind.

Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high!
Or we shall be belated:
For slow and slow that ship will go,
When the Mariner's trance is abated.' 430

The supernatural motion is retarded; the Mariner awakes, and his penance begins anew. I woke, and we were sailing on
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high;
The dead men stood together.

All stood together on the deck, 435
For a charnel-dungeon fitter:
All fix'd on me their stony eyes,
That in the Moon did glitter.

The pang, the curse, with which they died,
Had never pass'd away: 440
I could not draw my eyes from theirs,
Nor turn them up to pray.

The curse is finally expiated. And now this spell was snapt: once more
I viewed the ocean green,
And look'd far forth, yet little saw 445
Of what had else been seen?

Like one that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turn'd round, walks on,
And turns no more his head; 450
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me,
Nor sound nor motion made:
Its path was not upon the sea, 455
In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fann'd my cheek
Like a meadow-gale of spring?
It mingled strangely with my fears,
Yet it felt like a welcoming. 460

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship,
Yet she sail'd softly too:
Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze?
On me alone it blew.

And the ancient Mariner beholdeth his native country. O dream of joy! is this indeed 465
The lighthouse top I see?
Is this the hill? is this the kirk?
Is this mine own countree?

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar,
And I with sobs did pray? 470
O let me be awake, my God!
Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass,
So smoothly it was strewn!
And on the bay the moonlight lay, 475
And the shadow of the Moon.

The rock shone bright, the kirk no less
That stands above the rock:
The moonlight steep'd in silentness
The steady weathercock. 480

The angelic spirits leave the dead bodies, And the bay was white with silent light
Till rising from the same,
Full many shapes, that shadows were,
In crimson colours came.

And appear in their own forms of light. A little distance from the prow 485
Those crimson shadows were:
I turn'd my eyes upon the deck?
O Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat,
And, by the holy rood! 490
A man all light, a seraph-man,
On every corse there stood.

This seraph-band, each waved his hand:
It was a heavenly sight!
They stood as signals to the land, 495
Each one a lovely light;

This seraph-band, each waved his hand,
No voice did they impart?
No voice; but O, the silence sank
Like music on my heart. 500

But soon I heard the dash of oars,
I heard the Pilot's cheer;
My head was turn'd perforce away,
And I saw a boat appear.

The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, 505
I heard them coming fast:
Dear Lord in Heaven! it was a joy
The dead men could not blast.

I saw a third?I heard his voice:
It is the Hermit good! 510
He singeth loud his godly hymns
That he makes in the wood.
He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away
The Albatross's blood.

Jun 5 - 09:01 PM

Rated NCC-1701

Rated NCC-1701

Play some Skynyrd, man!

Jun 6 - 11:00 AM

Rated NCC-1701

Rated NCC-1701

Play some Skynyrd, man!

Jun 6 - 11:00 AM

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