pigeon_lady raze i'm not going to pretend the first two "home_alone" movies didn't give me a lot of joy when i was a child. but you get a little older, your brain begins to catch up with your body, and you start to see how thinly constructed these things are. how implausible it is that a world wet with neglect would stoop even this low. how, if you were the forgotten one, you wouldn't run to embrace the bullies who left you behind. you would back away and scream until your voice gave out. in each film there's one character who feels like a real human being. old man marley and the pigeon lady. both of them save the protagonist's life after being condescended to by a boy who thinks he knows more about living than they do. i still think of the pigeon lady sometimes. undone by the loss of love. invisible to all but a few emotionless mongrels who fear her because of the way she looks. camouflaged by columbidae. leaning into the music that wafts into a loft above carnegie hall. straining to see who she used to be while caring for birds with slender bills that look at her and see only another animal shivering in the cold. give her a safe place to sleep, sew tails into the spines of her feral friends and take their wings away, and she might as well be me. 251213 what's it to you? who go blather from