Word for the Day: Athanasia
Warning: The following blog post contains spoilers for the CSI series finale, Immortality. You have been warned.
Athanasia (n) deathlessness; immortality.
I finished watching the series finale of CSI twenty minutes ago. I swore to myself I wouldn't post long, rambling posts on Facebook because few people would understand and I have the decency not to spam my friends with my fangirling tendencies.
So here I am, on my blog, and hoping that I don't get consumed with feels and suddenly burst into flames while writing this. Oh, well.
The word 'immortality' is such an ugly word. I always associate it with vampires (Not that I'm scared of them. Let's just say that Twilight emotionally scarred me) and ugly rituals which usually mean sacrificing the blood of a virgin to something. That being said, I immediately scoured my trusty online thesaurus for another word - and came up with athanasia.
Besides it being a Greek word, and also a name of an actual saint, I thought it proper for this blog title. Instead of the word 'Immortal'. (And of course, I plan on my words for the day blog posts to be extremely gaudy and/or long and/or beautiful-sounding.)
Previous editors have critiqued me on saying that I'm not good with connecting paragraphs, so anyway! Here's my lovely, seven year old, CSI journey.
I started watching CSI when I was in high school, seven long years ago. I remember this clearly because the first episode of CSI I watched had Lawrence Fishburne as the head of the Las Vegas Crime Lab - relevant because my class had a film showing for Akeelah and the Bee, which Mister Fishburne was on. Ahh, jeez, it was love at first sight for me.
Not with Lawrence Fishburne. With CSI. You know what I mean.
I adored it, adored what they were doing, adored the environment and the way that Nick Stokes (George Ead) would play around with my crush of seven years, Greg Sanders (Eric Szmanda, who I still frequently stalk on Twitter). I adored the big words, I was engrossed in the blood and gore. And while I was a complete wuss (still am), and covered my eyes during the actual murder and shoot-out, I remember thinking I could handle an autopsy without throwing up.
I remember, specifically, wanting to be like David Hodges (Wallace Langham).
Hodges was easily my first favorite character besides Sanders, because I related with him. Hodges was weird. Hodges talked too much. Hodges knew too much and didn't know what to do with his knowledge. He was better off in the lab (at the time) and was as tactless a new bulletin board (funny), and was efficient. This guy was cool for me.
And I very nearly begged my parents to let me take up a forensics course, just for that reason. Just because of good ol' Hodges.
Now you see, the thing is, when I get addicted to something, it's pretty hard for me to stop. (I fall in love the same way too, but that's a different story.) Just as Naruto had claimed my heart a few years before CSI, I was willingly sucked into an endless vortex of crime. Watching crime. I was eagerly checking my TV every few days to see if there was a new episode; lo and behold, I chanced upon yet another episode, with yet another head of the crime lab, the famous Gil Grissom (William Petersen).
Like a dog looking for a bone, I thirsted for it. I never got the chance to follow it closely until my college years, however. Even then, I've only just recently caught up to the whole thing, working backwards. I've gathered DVD's and have completely watched all episodes for Seasons 11-15, downloading them online and catching them on AXN. I have yet to completely watch the other ten seasons.
What can I say? CSI's been a wonderful journey for me. The new characters are lovely - Finn (Elizabeth Shue) is someone I'd never mess with, but would hopefully take as a friend. D.B Russell (Ted Danson) is a wonderful crime lab director. Morgan Brody (Elisabeth Arnois), my favorite female character after Catherine Willows (Marg Helgenberger), is a wonderful, shipp-able match to my Greg, and not just a Plain Jane, as proven when she gets kidnapped.
These people these characters, formed me into a person I could never be without them. It is never just a TV show. Not when the plot got me sucked into medicine; not when the characters taught me not to trust just whatever you see. Not when you think there's no solution.
I stomach those tough hospital cases because of CSI. I know the tests and equipment are huge stretches of pseudo-sciences, that DNA tests don't take minutes. And yet, I can look past that and see the masterpiece that has become one of the most well-known crime shows around the world. I am proud to be a part of this fandom, proud to be a television crime show-buff.
The series finale was the icing on the cake for me, and just like Danson mentioned in the BTS video shown before the finale, there were a lot of relationships. It wasn't even a real complex case; they've worked harder on other cases, such as the Miniature Killer & the Gig Harbor killer (personal favorites of mine). But we get closure with Sara and Grissom. We feel better because Catherine's involved, again. And although I feel sad that most of the newer characters, mainly DB, Finn and Brody, kind of got shoved over to the side.
But in a sense, I feel that there was no other choice. Grissom, Catherine, and Brass (Paul Guilfoyle) came back, and the whole gang was together again. Minus Nick and choice others. They were the originals; and I believe, the reason why the series was able to push for a finale. This was more of a chance for the audience to say goodbye to everyone properly, instead of that joke of a season 15 ender.
In conclusion, CSI: Immortality was pretty bittersweet. And oh my goodness the Morganders. My fingers are itching to write fanfiction about it. I checked the records; if I finish it in a few hours, I should be the first one. And while this isn't as painful as Naruto (oh jesus, we'll need a whole webpage for that one), it still hurt my heart to see it ending. Thank you, directors, scriptwriters and producers, who made that beautiful mess a possibility. Thank you, cast, for giving life to characters I will always remember. And be warned that I might jump you if I see you in the streets. I'd fangirl forever if I saw you guys. Thank you. Thank you.
This wildly unorganized blog post is sign enough that the fact that everything I love is ending is taking a toll on me. Maybe I should just relax, smell the flowers.
And maybe, look for something else to obsess over.
Maybe.
Athanasia (n) deathlessness; immortality.
I finished watching the series finale of CSI twenty minutes ago. I swore to myself I wouldn't post long, rambling posts on Facebook because few people would understand and I have the decency not to spam my friends with my fangirling tendencies.
 |
| Don't think I can say the same for my twitter followers, though. Oops. |
The word 'immortality' is such an ugly word. I always associate it with vampires (Not that I'm scared of them. Let's just say that Twilight emotionally scarred me) and ugly rituals which usually mean sacrificing the blood of a virgin to something. That being said, I immediately scoured my trusty online thesaurus for another word - and came up with athanasia.
Besides it being a Greek word, and also a name of an actual saint, I thought it proper for this blog title. Instead of the word 'Immortal'. (And of course, I plan on my words for the day blog posts to be extremely gaudy and/or long and/or beautiful-sounding.)
Previous editors have critiqued me on saying that I'm not good with connecting paragraphs, so anyway! Here's my lovely, seven year old, CSI journey.
I started watching CSI when I was in high school, seven long years ago. I remember this clearly because the first episode of CSI I watched had Lawrence Fishburne as the head of the Las Vegas Crime Lab - relevant because my class had a film showing for Akeelah and the Bee, which Mister Fishburne was on. Ahh, jeez, it was love at first sight for me.
Not with Lawrence Fishburne. With CSI. You know what I mean.
I adored it, adored what they were doing, adored the environment and the way that Nick Stokes (George Ead) would play around with my crush of seven years, Greg Sanders (Eric Szmanda, who I still frequently stalk on Twitter). I adored the big words, I was engrossed in the blood and gore. And while I was a complete wuss (still am), and covered my eyes during the actual murder and shoot-out, I remember thinking I could handle an autopsy without throwing up.
I remember, specifically, wanting to be like David Hodges (Wallace Langham).
Hodges was easily my first favorite character besides Sanders, because I related with him. Hodges was weird. Hodges talked too much. Hodges knew too much and didn't know what to do with his knowledge. He was better off in the lab (at the time) and was as tactless a new bulletin board (funny), and was efficient. This guy was cool for me.
And I very nearly begged my parents to let me take up a forensics course, just for that reason. Just because of good ol' Hodges.
Now you see, the thing is, when I get addicted to something, it's pretty hard for me to stop. (I fall in love the same way too, but that's a different story.) Just as Naruto had claimed my heart a few years before CSI, I was willingly sucked into an endless vortex of crime. Watching crime. I was eagerly checking my TV every few days to see if there was a new episode; lo and behold, I chanced upon yet another episode, with yet another head of the crime lab, the famous Gil Grissom (William Petersen).
Like a dog looking for a bone, I thirsted for it. I never got the chance to follow it closely until my college years, however. Even then, I've only just recently caught up to the whole thing, working backwards. I've gathered DVD's and have completely watched all episodes for Seasons 11-15, downloading them online and catching them on AXN. I have yet to completely watch the other ten seasons.
What can I say? CSI's been a wonderful journey for me. The new characters are lovely - Finn (Elizabeth Shue) is someone I'd never mess with, but would hopefully take as a friend. D.B Russell (Ted Danson) is a wonderful crime lab director. Morgan Brody (Elisabeth Arnois), my favorite female character after Catherine Willows (Marg Helgenberger), is a wonderful, shipp-able match to my Greg, and not just a Plain Jane, as proven when she gets kidnapped.
These people these characters, formed me into a person I could never be without them. It is never just a TV show. Not when the plot got me sucked into medicine; not when the characters taught me not to trust just whatever you see. Not when you think there's no solution.
I stomach those tough hospital cases because of CSI. I know the tests and equipment are huge stretches of pseudo-sciences, that DNA tests don't take minutes. And yet, I can look past that and see the masterpiece that has become one of the most well-known crime shows around the world. I am proud to be a part of this fandom, proud to be a television crime show-buff.
The series finale was the icing on the cake for me, and just like Danson mentioned in the BTS video shown before the finale, there were a lot of relationships. It wasn't even a real complex case; they've worked harder on other cases, such as the Miniature Killer & the Gig Harbor killer (personal favorites of mine). But we get closure with Sara and Grissom. We feel better because Catherine's involved, again. And although I feel sad that most of the newer characters, mainly DB, Finn and Brody, kind of got shoved over to the side.
But in a sense, I feel that there was no other choice. Grissom, Catherine, and Brass (Paul Guilfoyle) came back, and the whole gang was together again. Minus Nick and choice others. They were the originals; and I believe, the reason why the series was able to push for a finale. This was more of a chance for the audience to say goodbye to everyone properly, instead of that joke of a season 15 ender.
In conclusion, CSI: Immortality was pretty bittersweet. And oh my goodness the Morganders. My fingers are itching to write fanfiction about it. I checked the records; if I finish it in a few hours, I should be the first one. And while this isn't as painful as Naruto (oh jesus, we'll need a whole webpage for that one), it still hurt my heart to see it ending. Thank you, directors, scriptwriters and producers, who made that beautiful mess a possibility. Thank you, cast, for giving life to characters I will always remember. And be warned that I might jump you if I see you in the streets. I'd fangirl forever if I saw you guys. Thank you. Thank you.
This wildly unorganized blog post is sign enough that the fact that everything I love is ending is taking a toll on me. Maybe I should just relax, smell the flowers.
And maybe, look for something else to obsess over.
Maybe.
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