Reading Good Omens--particularly this bit where Aziraphale speaks through the televangelist, informing everyone listening what the apocalypse is really like:
'"Well, nice try," he said in a completely different voice, "only it won't be like that at all. Not really.
"I mean, you're right about the fire and war, all that. But that Rapture stuff--well, if you could see them all in Heaven--serried ranks of them as far as the mind can follow and beyond, league after league of us, flaming swords, all that, well, what I'm trying to say is who has time to go round picking people out and popping them up in the air to sneer at the people dying of radiation sickness on the parched and burning earth below? If that's your idea of a morally acceptable time, I might add..."'
The notion of the Rapture strikes me as the ultimate schadenfreude delusion. Really.
And then happening upon this in my rounds of catching up on the webcomics ...
marriedtothesea.com
I'm pretty sure I prefer Mr. Gaiman's and Mr. Pratchett's version of things, but I have a soft spot for Natalie and Drew. And life sucks enough that Republicans would bring about an apocalypse.
It made me think of that magic line from Doctor Who, but I'll mess with it to make it work--
'Don't you think he looks tired?'
And if you can't guess who 'he' is, you're not trying hard enough.
Showing posts with label Doctor Who. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doctor Who. Show all posts
30 July 2008
visions of the future
06 July 2008
quiet time
Friday included cleaning, bank-visiting, mail-box-hunting, Essex-outdoor-stalls-perusing, and Batman-and-fireworks-watching (because, I was right, you can see the fireworks from the deck).
Saturday morning, I waited for my furniture to arrive.
The Jordan's delivery guys were a lot better at their job than my movers (and with a far more difficult piece of furniture).
The sofa felt a bit tall, so I unscrewed the 5" legs from the corners and stood back for another look. It's better this way, really. With the legs, my feet can't touch the floor, and I don't think that's good for circulation.
The counter stools in the kitchen ... I think it's the upholstery, but it smells odd. In a "eating here makes me feel queasy" kind of way. I'm hoping it just needs to air out; otherwise, I ought to get some fabric deodorant.
After lunch, I went to the Peabody Essex Museum, the ticket and special exhibits of which are free for Salem residents. Fine by me.
I had an absurd epiphany while I was there. It's been many a time that I've been walking down the street between Derby and Essex and wondered, What the hell were they thinking when they decided to imitate Chinese architecture for just that one building? And what is that? Somebody's house? A business? What? So yesterday I was excited to visit because the PEM has the Yin Yu Tang exhibit--a Chinese house. I thought this might be similar to the Japanese house exhibit at the Children's Museum by South Station, a life-size model of the real thing, but still just a model.
No. They moved a Chinese house from China to Salem, bit by bit over the past seven years, and reconstructed it in its original form and with original decorations from between 300 and 50 years ago. And now I know what I should have known before. Hooray for disconnect.
Also very cool there right now--the Maori ta moko exhibit, a gallery of photos and quotes from tribe members who have received these tattoos since the government ban was lifted in the 1960s. And it was pretty awesome to read the anecdotes and see the variety of designs ... Except for the stupid people walking around and commenting (or mining for earwax and examining your findings in public--ARGH). I was furiously texting Rodney while I was in there, because it kept me from snapping at somebody. "What kind of jobs can they get?! Teeheehee!!" (And this, after passing directly by the photograph of the young businessman with facial ta moko.)
DiaF.
I also went to the gift shop (of course), and found an addition for my rice bowl collection:
Which inspired me to go home and make sticky rice for dinner (with broccoli, mushroom, and onion mixed in, to be healthy and stuff). And because I'm trying to use up the milk I have before it goes bad (because there were two gallons from the previous week), I also made clam chowder--which was poured over the rice in a very rice-casserole kind of deal. Surprisingly good, though veering from the original inspiration.
And then there was Doctor Who's finale. I enjoyed it, even though I didn't really enjoy the ending. I'm trying to think of it in a positive light though, like--"it's the journey that matters, not the destination," or something to that effect.
Blah. Time for a shower.
19 December 2007
saved by the UK
I love Hot Chip. Or maybe I just love Hot Chip's "Over & Over" ... YES.
I've loved this song since, oh, last Fall. And I still love it. I can hear it every day and it makes me happy. Kind of like The Automatic's "Monster."
Both songs make me think of Torchwood, which is maybe a good portion of the happiness--and, right now especially, the antici- ... -pation (who loves Rocky Horror? oh, right--I do). The new Torchwood season begins next month, and the Doctor Who Christmas special is right around the corner.
Hey, we all need things to look forward to. Me, I look forward to new David Tennant and John Barrowman fixes from the BBC during Hollywood's woeful dry spell. (PAY THE WRITERS NOW, PLEASE. KTHXBYE.)
What else is on my mind this morning? Politics.
Television and politics--well, it works for Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.
Mostly, I'm just a little irritated by a web site that I was invited to look at. They're polling the public for the 2008 Presidential race, but they've excluded Ron Paul from the polls, and make a big [highly animated] point of letting everyone know this up front. It's not that I even like Ron Paul. I'm not going to be voting for him, because I think he's an idiot. At this point, I'm so disgusted with all of them, I might do a write-in (that won't be counted, because individual votes don't really count for beans in the US Presidential race, if we're really being honest about it).
But I think the owner of the site is a bigger idiot for excluding Paul. If you're really interested in clean poll results, you won't exclude any candidate, no matter how much you dislike him or his followers. If you're not interested in clean poll results, why take the time to create a web site devoted just to the poll? Isn't it a waste of time and energy for something that doesn't really matter to you?
OK. End irritable ramble.
29 January 2007
pure morning
Oh, this past weekend ... ~_~
And now for a more-detailed account of the weekend's events, adventures in Providence, and terrorists on skis.
Friday afternoon I left work and headed inbound, stopping at Park Street to browse through the Borders at Downtown Crossing (and apparently there's another Borders on Boylston St. now, too?). I was looking for books on doll-making (big surprise, that is) and drawing super-deformed characters (chibi!), since the human dolls I'm interested in making are of the chibi/SD variety. All around, that was a very discouraging stop, since there was really nothing I could use in stock.
Art dolls are ... interesting, but they give me the creeps. I'm not talking about sock creatures or weird animals or patch-work creations--but rather dolls like this. I recognize their art value; I can even understand why some people would want to collect and create them; but I wouldn't deal well with having one in my room. I would have Puppet Master nightmares (except that the nightmares would actually be scary rather than stupidly funny, like those movies).
From Park Street, I went to Harvard Square to visit Tokyo Kid, looking to see if they had any plushies in a discount bin; because, at a cheap enough price, I wouldn't mind buying one just to take it apart. Yes, I should've known better, really. Nothing is ever cheap at that store. Plushies of the type I was interested in were starting at $14. Yeah. No. Not for a UFO-catcher doll. Not when I've seen them on eBay for $6.
They did have how-to guides for drawing manga characters, but they weren't really what I wanted (and $20 besides); so I left without buying anything and continued on to The Coop. They were also a no-go for doll-making books, but they did have a very nice selection of manga-drawing books on the lowest shelf in their Art section. I might've bought one, but when I looked at the neverending line for the cashier, I lost my verve and opted to just go home. It was easy to do, really, since I knew I'd be spending money on Saturday. And since I went to Amazon.com, and ordered this.
And, check, spent money on Saturday. Melissa picked me up at the train station and we drove 'round to The Fabric Place and A.C. Moore. At The Fabric Place (where my head spun around and exploded upon entering--no, not really, but yikes, it's overwhelming) I bought velour in white and light gray, an evergreen suede, and a book on the basics of making soft toys. A.C. Moore had beanie babies for $4 ... yes, ashamed to say it, but I bought two: a skunk and an owl who have joined Jiji on the top of my television set. Oh! and some fat quarters in red, black, purple, and blue with different and interesting patterns.
Really, I wasn't as bad as I'd expected. The grand total could've been much worse.
After that, we went back to Melissa's to pick up Erich so we could all go to lunch. We went to The Texas Roadhouse. It's awesome. Yeah, the music is country-western, and we could all live without that, but the food ... The food is really just to-die-for. I haven't had steak in ... forever; and this was the perfect reunion for me and steak. And I ate alllll my food--and didn't really notice how full I was until it was time to get up and leave. And Mel very graciously spotted me the money for dinner again, so I really must buy her and Erich dinner next time around. I feel like a free-loader! TT_TT
Then we went back to the house for stitching and season two of Doctor Who. The six-minute segue between the end of season one and "The Christmas Invasion" (that I'd never seen before) really helps the Christmas special make more sense (so far as Rose accepting the Doctor's body-change, and how they crash). And holy crap, I love the outtakes so much. It makes me want to dress up as a cyberman and run around the Common, chasing squirrels and pigeons. Mmm. David Tennant.
And I was being productive too! I cut new arms (as I was less than pleased with my first attempt), hand-stitched them, and hand-sewed them into the torso seam, all ready to be stuffed when I got home. That doesn't seem like very much when typed out, but it took me a while to do all that. I think the biggest headache was in figuring out the placement of the arms in seams; because I wanted the seams to be perpendicular, not lined up (I like making life difficult for myself). But after they were pinned into place, it wasn't too bad.
After the Doctor Who outtakes, Mel drove me home--which was super-nice of her. And I, of course, stayed awake to stuff the doll's arms and torso, and attach the head. This was all while half-heartedly watching Icebreaker. I didn't know what the hell was happening in that movie by the time I'd finished crafting and was actually paying attention ... so I started the DVD over again from the beginning. And promptly fell asleep.
I tried to watch it again on Sunday morning. It's a really bad movie, Bruce Campbell and Sean Astin notwithstanding. A concise description of the plot idea would be "Die Hard with skis." If you think that sounds dumb, you don't know the half of it. I swear it was written by somebody (probably a former member of ski patrol) who was working at a ski resort and got bored. I can just see it:
"Oh, what if terrorists showed up?" [for no bloody reason at all] "Hmm. Yes. They need a reason to be here, don't they? ... Uhh, they've lost their nuclear weapons from Russia in a plane crash on the mountain! And the only way to get them back is to take the ski lodge hostage!" [never mind that Russia is small beans anymore, but they can't just sneak up there and get their nuclear stuff back without anybody noticing?] "No! We want this to be like Die Hard! And, instead of a cop, what if a member of the ski patrol had to save the day?" [because, you never know, it could happen] "And we can have terrorists on skis, chasing the hero down the black diamond trail!" [the terrorists know how to ski?] "Yes." [and snowboard?] "Yes!" [and shoot guns at the same time?] "YES!" [how do all the terrorists know how to ski?] "Because they do!" [and, yes, losing me ...]
You know that's how it went. Sean Astin should've known to stay away from terrorist movies after Toy Soldiers. Oh, well. In spite of its being a really dumb movie (actually, maybe because it's a really dumb movie), I did kind of enjoy it. But then I enjoyed Toy Soldiers too, and that's equally absurd.
Oh, yeah. A little after ten o'clock the doorbell rang. It was the USPS carrier. On Sunday. My package from Aranzi Aronzo had arrived--less than a week after ordering it. From Japan. And on a Sunday. The EMS packaging boasts: "fastest International delivery." I think they've earned that boast. I really didn't expect it to arrive that fast.
The book is beautiful and chock full of visual instructions that make it really easy to follow along. And the fact that I can read katakana helps a bit too.
On the invoice somebody wrote a small note in very neat (and somewhat broken) English. But it was just so nice. And personalized. And it definitely made me go: "Awwwwww!"
It might be a generalization of their culture, but it's a good one--and so, hopefully, forgiveable--but ... Japanese people are so damn nice.
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