(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
Huh. I've left my phone somewhere; and, aside from not being sure where that somewhere is (I hope it's at home), I'm feeling mostly all right about it.
I didn't really notice until I thought, That's weird. Usually I've received about two dozen twitter txt messages by now [split fairly even between Neil Gaiman and Russell Brand on most days]. And then I discovered my mobile wasn't in its traditional place.
Oh, well. I'll just have fifty txts to erase when I get home (or, you know, not at all if I've lost it somewhere between here and there).
Just another excuse to put off getting a [likely expensive] haircut, really. Can't call the salon without my phone, and office phones are not to be used for personal non-emergency reasons like haircuts.
I'm very good at procrastination and justification.
02 April 2009
inaccessible
01 April 2009
everyone's a comedian
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
Getting much better at headstands. Why are you doing headstands? I dunno, just felt inspired to improve the quality of my headstand (having full carpeting in a room helps, because who wants to do a headstand on a hardwood floor?). Jon Stewart and Aasif Mandvi--yes, they're just as funny upside-down. On a related note, laughing while you're doing a headstand is not something I recommend. Also, whenever I do my craptastic headstands, I think of this:
Must stop staying up when I know I'll just want to die in the morning when the alarm goes off in the dark.
I just really wanted to get my laundry done--because everything that I should've done over the weekend is getting dragged out over this week's evenings. It's the same thing with grocery shopping. There's no reason I couldn't have gone on Saturday or Sunday. I just didn't--and then had a wonderfully anxious time driving there and back through rush-hour sunset traffic (a million cars and pedestrians that you can't see with the sun in your eyes: AWESOME).
On a positive note, I have clean clothing and food, so life can't be all bad ...
It was dark and overcast this morning, whatever Weather.com has to say about it. Oh, it's 29° and sunny! No. First of all, it was in the 30's. Second of all, it was not sunny. Weather.com should be above April Fool's (though that's probably giving them too much credit--knowing what the actual weather is and deciding to say something else in an attempt of [albeit dull] trickery).
The cover of weeklydig is pretty good. It's an apology from AIG that begins: "We're really, really sorry!"
Gmail's April foolery is one-upping itself from last year:
Autopilot by CADIE: The easiest email could possibly be.
YouTube thinks they're brilliant, too. And they are, sort of. When you're on the main page and you click on a video link to watch, it sends you there but everything's upside-down. Go look! I'm not kidding (that would be a lame April Fool's, anyway--"made you look! I'm so clever! I can lie on the internet!").
Also on YouTube, there's a new video from TheJokerBlogs--but it is also a prank (of course):
I need a haircut. Pronto.
26 March 2009
25 March 2009
we only come out at night
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
I keep thinking about painting (the walls, not a fresco). Several things need to happen before I can do that.
* wait for it to warm up enough to leave the door open for aerating purposes
* wash the walls (a cat lived here and there is no doubt hair and other gunk I can't see); however, before I wash the walls, I must:
* figure out how to do this without stripping or eroding the plaster
* remove whatever is on the walls (frames, masks, etc.)
* vacuum the floors, so that dust and dirt aren't kicked up while I'm washing or painting the walls; but before I can vacuum the floor, I must:
* move everything out of the room to some other room where it will probably get underfoot and annoy me
I'm going to need a long warm weekend for this project.
20 March 2009
go fish
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
Headphone cord fishing... Ooh, caught a big one! [by the button on his jeans] ... YAY! x
16 March 2009
yes, you heard right
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
"Erm, I was looking for a book by Russell Brand, but I can't find it where the kiosk is telling me it should be ... Do you have any idea where else it might be in the store?"
"Is it listed as 'In Stock'?"
"Yep." I wouldn't be bothering if it weren't.
"And the title?"
"... Erm. ... My Booky Wook." *blush* It's not until you have to ask for it aloud that you realise how utterly ridiculous you sound by desiring it.
*smirk* ... Clickclickclickclick goes the keyboard. "And the author is Russell Banks?"
"Brand."
"Brand." ... Clickclickclickclickclick ... "And the title again?"
ARGH. ... Why do I get the feeling he's doing this on purpose? ... "My Booky Wook." *grimace*
"Right." Clickclickclickclick ...
And after that and a browse through the featured stacks (something I'd already done before asking for assistance), he couldn't find the book anyway. He asked if I wanted to order it, but I didn't bother. One, there's a Borders across the street. And two, I had a feeling he'd just make me give him the information all over again.
So I went over to Borders, and, lo and behold! They had plenty of copies in their Media section. I would've been lost in Biographies (where Barnes & Noble had it listed) if I hadn't done a search at their kiosk as well. And I begin to wonder if it wasn't in B&N's Media section, too ... Oh, well!
Also, the clerks at Borders were much less judgmental about my purchase. Or, rather, they were judgmental--but in a approving and non-mocking way.
So--I'm now a proud owner of My Booky Wook (but not so proud that I appreciate having to repeat the title aloud too often to people who have no idea who Russell Brand is, let alone having any concept of his particular level of silliness that would warrant such a title).
I really am happy to have the book, though. I think it'll be an entertaining read.
14 March 2009
degree of extreme
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
The cover of the Spring 2009 BU Arts & Sciences reads:
"BU (extreme) South - Geomorphologist David Marchant and his team of students discover Antarctica's secret past"
But, of course, because I'm still stuck at the mountains of madness, "secret past" makes me think of starfish-headed tentacle aliens in a labyrinthine city ...
And then Professor Marchant's Earth Science class, but that was pathetically secondary in my thought process. Yeah, I had a 9 AM class with him in Freshman year, and it was about as stirring as Lovecraft's "Mountains" (unfortunate for a morning class and a morning read, respectively).
Marchant is like my very own Dyer, and because of this little morsel of information regarding his travels, I will now be imagining him in place of my original mental sketch of Professor Dyer (in spite of the fact that Marchant is actually much younger than Dyer is meant to be). Yay!
I've listened to about a half-dozen of these in the past two days. "About," because I downloaded the first six but fell asleep listening to one last night.
My original notion of Russell Brand came from that Andrew Sachs prank phone call business. I listened to the audio of the radio programme long after the fact, and it wasn't so much scandalous to me as it was blown way out of proportion. I heard about the VMA nonsense a bit later, but I didn't really care ... because, well, I don't care about MTV.
But after watching Brand's special from New York City on ComedyCentral, my opinion of him has improved. Sure, he's an eccentric little giraffe (and a manwhore, to boot), and a lot of his routine is specifically grounded in moments of personal embarrassment, but he also has this marvelous ability to slip into beautifully poetic rambles. Very entertaining overall, so I went in search of more--and, indeed, found more.
Then, today I was watching movies on the Instant Queue and picked Penelope, because I remembered that a coworker had suggested it. And who should make a very brief cameo in that film but Russell Brand? I wasn't even paying attention at that point, to be honest (because I tend to web browse all the time); but then I heard that voice, to which I've become quite attuned with the aforementioned radio broadcast .mp3s and falling asleep to it and so on, and my brain went: Russell?! And there he was talking to James McAvoy's character! Very, very brief cameo, but it makes me feel as though my subconsciousness is dragging him around with me.
10 March 2009
"building a henge, are we?"
Local park getting own version of Stonehenge
WUT?
"Its monolithic stones will tower 7 feet above the ground with an additional 5 feet anchored into concrete rings below ground. The circle will be 20 feet across with a stone tablet in the middle."
... Tower? These stones are going to tower at 7 feet?
LOL with me now.
08 March 2009
"Hypnotized"
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
New from TheJokerBlogs:
"There's only one thing we do--and it helps both of us."
HO. LY. CRAP.
ETA: Actually, the guy playing Dr. Strange makes me LOL at the end every time I watch this.
"You son of a BEEECH!" XD
07 March 2009
my fandom isn't naturally huggable
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
So I'm working on making it unnaturally huggable.
I haven't worked out his face or hair or clothing yet (and, in saying that, I realise I've actually not done much at all--urgh), but this is my progress on my Joker plush.
Note: head not actually sewn into place yet; it's just balancing there for the picture.
... Well, I had to something with myself today.
02 March 2009
but ... I'm already AWAKE
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
Snow day ... This never happens.
Not that I'm complaining, obviously; it's just weird. How much did we get, anyway?
So ...
I guess this means I go back to bed. Maybe.
Yes?
26 February 2009
25 February 2009
phthistical
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
An exotic variation of the more usual "phthisical"--from "phthisic":
n.
1. Variant of phthisis.
2. Archaic Any illness of the lungs or throat, such as asthma or a cough.
And now I know [that it's not that important for me to know].
'I am grown phthistical,' he began, 'from this cursed river air.'
23 February 2009
after this, I'm going back to bed
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
Stayed awake exactly long enough to know ... Heath won!
And, yes, I am happy.
Exhausted, but happy.
19 February 2009
16 February 2009
Stephen's been making predictions
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
 | |
Warning: If Christian Bale accepts for him, nobody walk through his eye-line.
15 February 2009
"My Funny Valentine"
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
I was hoping for something like this, but I didn't check until this very moment ...
TheJokerBlogs has an update!
HQ version is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5ukcNzjgC4&feature=channel_page&fmt=18
12 February 2009
Arkham and the joys of wikiality
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
While reading "Pickman's Model" on the train, I felt inspired to do some wiki-checking on certain endnotes I'd been reading. For one thing, I wanted hear more about Lovecraft's apparent inspiration for Arkham. Well, I live here, and that gives me a geeky jazz I can't quite describe without bouncing a little bit... But this is Arkham: the town. Arkham Asylum is another matter, the model for which is in another town that I frequent on a regular basis.
Danvers State Hospital 1893
And, yes. That screams Arkham Asylum to me. All it needs is a gigantic menacing gate to go around its gigantic menacing exterior.
As I read the beginning of the wiki entry, I thought, I need to go see this in person! But then I kept reading ...
Due to budget cuts within the mental health system the hospital was closed in June 1992.
And then--
In December 2005, the property was sold to Avalon Bay Development. A lawsuit was filed to stave off the demolition of the hospital, including the Kirkbride building, which was listed on the National Register of Historic Places. However, this ultimately did not stop the process, and to some public outcry, demolition of most of the buildings began in January 2006, with the intent to build 497 apartments on the 77-acre (310,000 m2) site.
Danvers State Hospital 2006 demolition
Say it with me: "Argh!"
Oh! And THEN:
... On April 7, 2007, four of the new apartment complex buildings and four of Avalon bay's construction trailers burned down in a large fire visible from Boston, some seventeen miles (27 km) away. The mysterious conflagration was confined mostly to the buildings under construction on the eastern end, with damage to the remaining Kirkbride spires from catching fire due to excessive heat. An investigation is underway concerning the cause of the fire. Avalon Bay provided a live webcam of the construction at the old site of the hospital at their website; however, the pictures cut out at approximately 2:03 AM the night of the fire, and the webcam was disabled, possibly due to the fire.
So that was a little weird. But, anyway, now it's an apartment complex:
Avalon Danvers October 2007
I hope it's haunted.
30 January 2009
had to happen eventually
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
Of course, one doesn't fall down on what is obviously ice. One falls down on what would appear to be dry ground--but is, in fact, icy ground--because one lets down her guard and takes confident steps where she should've been sliding along as usual.
Oh, well. I still managed it fairly gracefully, since I felt it happening almost immediately. I'm pretty sure I muttered something along the lines of: "Balls..." as I went down. The lady walking half a dozen yards ahead of me turned around to ask if I was all right, and also to share that it had looked like a perfectly dry patch of ground to her as well.
Nothing bruised or broken. Just somewhat annoyed.
It needs to get warm enough and dry enough to get rid of this nonsense soon. I'm sick of taking fifteen minutes to navigate the pitfalls between home and the depot, when it should really only take about seven to make the trip. I'd also like not to fall down again.
25 January 2009
the word is Hyde
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
Whoa. I've been watching the Jekyll series all day on the Netflix Instant Queue, and just finished the sixth (and last) episode now. I'm a fan of the old story, so I was curious about this. ... You can certainly tell Steven Moffat was involved. Some of it distinctly smacks of Doctor Who.
Split personalities, cloning, reincarnation. It's one more head trip after another.
24 January 2009
"A Dream Come True"
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
Been waiting for an update on these since before Christmas. I can't help being absurdly excited about it ...
22 January 2009
shoulda, woulda, coulda
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
When I got home I was very close to just staying upstairs, eating the pear that I'd forgotten at lunch, and lounging around watching more Politically Incorrect on YouTube while waiting for The Daily Show and The Colbert Report to come on.
But I wanted to do the nutritious thing and make a salad wrap for dinner ...
As I removed the container of spinach from the refrigerator, I heard a strange noise from above--and looked up just in time for the bottle of Frangelico to clock me on the side of the head, bounce off, and shatter on the floor. YAY.
And then the alarm in the blue room went off--signaling the possible presence of explosive gases in the apartment. SWELL. Really. Just AWESOME.
Then my parents were on the phone--me trying to clean up the spill and shards of glass with one hand--and they're nagging me about the roof situation.
Hi. I haven't eaten anything. The "explosive gas" alarm is going off. I have the deck door open to the 10 degree chill beyond in order to get the Frangelico fumes out of my home. I'm trying to clean my kitchen floor before it goes tacky with residue AND not step on broken glass. Nagging me is not a good idea right now.
I was ready to crush my mobile with my grip alone. I might do one day.
THEN when I finally had my food and was sitting in the red room, I managed to tip over my water and spill it on the floor.
I'm doing so well.
Lesson learned. If the first instinct is to stay upstairs, I should just stay the hell upstairs.
20 January 2009
16 January 2009
LOL
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
Shawn Spencer: "Former lovers?! REALLY?!?"
I crowed and clapped.
It might be coincidence, but I do believe the Psych writers have been reading the Shassie (Shawn/Lassiter) fanfiction--or it's come to their attention, anyway--and they don't approve of this pairing either. (C'mon! Slash is great, but ... It's LASSITER! Tim Omundson is very talented, but--NO.) So clearly I don't ship them. I don't have a Psych ship, probably because there are no regular nasties on board.
I'm especially amused by this inclusion since my txt question to the show earlier this week was: "Do you know there is fanfiction about you? Have you read any of it?" Oh, they must know.
That was a relatively serious episode, though, all things considered. I mean Shawn was really slammed around ... And it looks like next week's is similarly danger-filled.
I did not successfully spot the pineapple (there's at least one in every episode). I'm so ashamed. And tired.
Good night.
14 January 2009
"[assuming] for the time whatever opinion amuses me"
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
I shall never be very merry or very sad, for I am more prone to analyse than to feel ... What merriment I have is always derived from the satirical principle, and what sadness I have, is not so much personal, as a vast and terrible melancholy at the pain and futility of all existence in a blind and purposeless cosmos.
Oh, I know I shouldn't read Lovecraft when I'm in a mood; but when I'm in a mood is when I feel most like reading him.
This makes me laugh inappropriately:
If we knew what we are, we should do as Sir Arthur Jermyn did; and Arthur Jermyn soaked himself in oil and set fire to his clothing one night.
I wish I had book of his correspondence, as I really do love the letters I've found.
We love kitties, gawd bless their little whiskers, and we don't give a damn whether they or we are superior or inferior! They're confounded pretty, and that's all we know and all we need to know!
That's just unexpectedly adorable.
10 January 2009
re: spoiling the illusion
(Comments from LiveJournal)
Ian: While there is much to be said for the "just add water" nature of the religious social experience, you are almost certainly right that it wouldn't be worth it to pretend. Maybe next time you get invited you should go and not pretend? Though I'd suggest sticking this in your bag, just in case.
Nicole: There are plenty of people I know who are religious without being RELIGIOUS, but (perhaps I am waaay overgeneralizing) it seems to me that the people who socialize based around a religion are... kind of cuckoo. They just (mostly) seem to be more extremist than the non-social folks.
Michelle: Like you, I occasionally toy with going to services once in a while, especially Mass, but for slightly different reasons. For me it's less about the social outlet and more about feeling the sense of drama and ritual that a good religious service can evoke. Also like you, I don't believe any of it, and the truth would come out sooner or later, and probably somewhat destructively.
As far as socially acceptable goes, I think that the Northeast is probably one of the best places to live if you aren't "conventionally religious". It doesn't seem nearly as central to everything as it does in say, the South or the Midwest. So far as I can tell, being a member of a mainline church isn't mandatory for, say, public office, and it's unlikely you would see coworkers and socialize at church on the weekends, and no one really bats an eye at a courthouse/city hall wedding. It doesn't seem to be a mandatory piece of being a part of society up here. Sure, it can help with some connections, but I've found that even conventionally religious up here get a lot less bothered if you aren't drinking the same kool-aid as them.
Also, infiltrating an uber-religious organization quite possibly would be fun in an evil sort of way, but it's not really going to teach anyone anything.
In terms of social output, again, being in the Boston area, there's a lot of that that isn't dependent on religion either. Boston Ski & Sports Club, dances or dance lessons, stitch'n'bitches (Boston has a mailing list), Drinking Liberally... etc. and so on.
spoiling the illusion
(Cross-posted to LiveJournal)
I've more than once contemplated rejoining a religious group, if only for the social outlet.
It is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day...
Even now, there's an odd look one receives ... I get it at work sometimes, not from everyone, but from a handful of people. Disbelief? Concern? I'm not sure how to describe it properly. It's the look I get when I decline an invitation to a church gathering, and then let them know why I declined when they ask.
Ambivalence ... nonchalance?
It does seem to be a reaction divided by race. None of my Asian colleagues think it strange (or if they do, they have the good taste not to react); most of my Caucasian colleagues are equally disinterested; it's primarily my Black colleagues that are most visibly taken aback.
So I wonder, as I read the common zealot rant on a message board, as I cross paths with colleagues and the occasional LDS pavement-pounder, Would I be more socially acceptable if I were part of a religious group?
But then I reconsider, knowing exactly how much I'd hate myself--how much I would come to loath the pretense, how much I would resent the people around me (whether they actually believed or were just similarly pretending for the sake of human company). Could I pretend? Oh, I'm certain I could--and quite convincingly, at that. Things move me for many reasons.
The right (or wrong) combination of musical chords can send a shiver down my spine, fictions make me cry or shudder every other day. To achieve the same reaction in any so-called holy place to so-called holy music or so-called holy words would hardly be proof of anything.
Reactions to stimuli.
[Sanity], [sanity], all is [sanity].
It's not to say that I don't think I can believe in things; but many things that were once categorised as beliefs have been moved to fantasy and fiction and intellectual interest. Fairly weighed, nothing "supernatural" makes any more sense than anything else. I guess that's where my mind stops.
It's not to say that I don't think others should believe in things. More [of something--though I'm not sure what, but "power" seems incorrect--] to them, if they can.
But I resent them and I pity them, and I can't make myself feel guilty about those feelings, because I'm almost certain that they feel the same way about me.
Back to the question: Could I fake it? Yes, for a while, but I'd probably self-destruct eventually; and, as is my habit, I'd most likely take a few people with me. People who, in their turn, would resent me for spoiling their illusion.
A more wicked side of me thinks, It could make life interesting for a little while ... Allow the most outlandish thing possible to recruit oneself (something like Opus Dei or equally miserable). Bewilder both friends and family for a good six months. Convince the believers of conversion. And then--leave, to the confusion and disappointment of all.
It's more for self-indulgent fantasy than reality, isn't it?
I'm lonely and bored of being lonely, but I'm also proud--too proud to whore myself to something I don't believe, too proud to keep my opinions to myself.
Maybe tomorrow I'll write out a few of my thoughts on the dichotomy of good and evil in Western literature.
Maybe I'll go see The Unborn instead.
Who knows?
29 December 2008
27 December 2008
24 December 2008
19 December 2008
16 December 2008
11 December 2008
06 December 2008
04 December 2008
30 November 2008
29 November 2008
26 November 2008
25 November 2008
19 November 2008
DiaF Award, 19. November 2008
Boston Herald wins the Die in a Fire Award today.
They're seriously using their front page to blast Denis Leary? Is news that slow, folks? You're really going to use your front page to settle a personal score? Has the Herald become a reactionary rag (but then, maybe it's always been)?
Their initial claim was that Leary called autistic children "stupid and lazy" ... No. What he said was that irresponsible parents are trying to hide their stupid and lazy children (that they never bothered to parent properly) behind convenient labels that might get them a better teacher-student ratio (to undo the damage of the parents' gross negligence). Was Leary's statement brash? Hell, yes. He's Denis "I'm An Asshole" Leary. It would be a herald to the End of Days if the man started being sensitive.
Then, Leary reacted to their claim at his Agganis Arena show.
And the Herald needed to get back at him. On the front page. Because they're apparently staffed by old men who never got over the high school mind-set.
But Leary's not insulting people who genuinely have autism, which anyone at the Herald would know if they'd shut up and listen for a minute. Also, had any of them ever listened to any of his stand-up, they might better understand the spirit in which he says things.
As he'd be the first to say, he's an asshole; but picking on actually autistic children? He's not that much of an asshole.
18 November 2008
14 November 2008
12 November 2008
10 November 2008
06 November 2008
Re: single-parent adoption policies in AR
A letter to Arkansas' orphans, stolen from my good friend, slywinkle:
Dear Orphans,GaysNobody would like to adopt you. Gays with disposable incomeNobody would like to provide a better future for you.
Love,
AR
05 November 2008
re: Prop 8
Somehow, if we could stop the gays from getting married, everything else would turn out just fine! Everything would change - there'd be solar energy! The Sunni's and the Shiite's would lay down their arms: "He stopped the Queers! I love you too." We've got an educational system that's in the shitter, we've got a war going on, there's one thing after another, and what did our President think was important? Queers. That's what's important! That somehow, if we could stop the gays from getting married, everything else would turn out just fine! Everything would change - there'd be solar energy! The Sunnis and the Shiites would lay down their arms: "He stopped the Queers! I love you too." I believe that the reason that it's difficult for the gay community to be integrated into this society at large, the way they should be, is because there are no champions for them in Congress or in the White House. And that is the way that every group of people has basically been integrated into society. That's the way it works. Instead, you have people like Rick Santorum, a senator from Pennsylvania, who says things that he should think and ... shut his fucking mouth. You can go ahead and think it, that's fine, but you don't say aloud that homosexuality is a threat to the American family. Because that's prejudice. That's complete and utter prejudice and ignorance, on a level that is staggering at this point in time. It's very similar to the prejudice that the Jews faced when it was thought that during the first night of Passover that we would go into the Christian community and kidnap the firstborn of Christian families and kill it! And that, for those of you who don't realise, is bullshit! We would've kidnapped the child and made him work for us, and that's a big difference. Homosexuality is a threat to the American family, are you kidding me? How? No one ever explains it. How? It's like there's a Jehovah's Witnesses of Gaydom! "Hi, we're here and we're Queer, we're here and we're Queer!" -- "I brought swatches, I brought swatches!" But maybe I'm wrong! Maybe there are a group of Gay Banditos! Who get into a van every day and wander from village to dell. And as night begins to fall, they go back into a suburban neighborhood, to that cul de sac, where only one house stands. And in the window, a young American family is just sitting down for their first meal. And these Queers...these Queers...don their black cloaks and hoods and matching pumps - very tasteful - and they charcoal up their faces and they sneak up to that house and open the door and start: FUCKING EACH OTHER IN THE ASS!! And another American family is destroyed! Lewis Black, Red White & Screwed Performance
(If you think Lewis Black is a genius, re-post this.)
04 November 2008
03 November 2008
31 October 2008
30 October 2008
30 July 2008
visions of the future
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.
29 July 2008
BUMP
Answering the mandate to "tell all my friends," I now switch over to pimp-mode. Ahem.
Look at this free comic I received:
Do you like random comics? Would you like to receive your very own random comic to tack on your fridge, tape to your monitor, or post on your office door to alienate and bewilder pesky colleagues?
Make your Tuesdays ever more random and fun with Tuesdays With Turbo! Turbo draws a comic, you respond first with (and this is KEY): "I WANT THAT," and she mails it to you. It's that easy.
Check in every Tuesday for your chance at a new bit of free randomness!
So now you've been told. Go there.
26 July 2008
yes, I'm still on this subject
My other pet theory (that I'm sure somebody else has considered, but hey ...), which is limited to the Nolanverse:
The Joker is an unforeseen byproduct of the release of Dr. Crane's fear toxin in the Narrows.
Probably not, I know, but it has the possibilities for a fun origin ficlet [that I'll never ever write]. When so much is left untold, I could speculate forever.
arguing online is like competing in the special Olympics
Please to remember.
Blah.
There is a heads on both sides, right?
This is Nolanverse. I was reading a fanfic on the Batman Begins portion of fanfiction.net, which basically covers Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. The author decided to introduce Dent's lucky coin (pre-explosion), and had it land on TAILS. Right. About that ...
I thought Harvey's coin was heads on both sides, which is why he can make his own luck, because he always calls heads for the thing he wants. Well, I mean, until after the explosion scorches one side--but then it's a scorched heads.
Author's response: "Hmm, I don't think so...after all, he didn't shoot EVERYONE in the movie as he would've liked, because sometimes the coin ended on tails. I guess it's possible though, right? :-P"
... I doubt it was worth responding to after the ":-P" thing. But I did anyway. I went back to check other comments/reviews; but nobody else had mentioned the coin discrepancy, which made me start to wonder if I'd imagined the sequence. So I checked that. And responded with a cite as evidence, because the degree in English leads me to do that when I'm trying to make points.
"'Harvey, this is your life. You don't leave something like this to chance ...'
Dent tossed the coin to her. Rachel caught it and looked: Heads.
'I'm not leaving anything to chance,' Dent said.
Rachel turned the coin over. The reverse side was heads, too." (202)
I might get an equally dismissive response for my efforts, and I know I'd deserve it, but there it is. Did the double-headed coin detail really slip past this many people?
25 July 2008
long wait
When I went back to re-read the email that Amazon.com sent me, I noticed the "shipping estimate" for my graphic novels ... September 4, 2008 - September 12, 2008?!
I get that they're low on their stock, but the new stock is coming in (according to the site) during the first week of August. Why the month-long delay? Did the order surge really take them by surprise?
It's not that I don't have other things to read. In fact, I can easily while away more than a month on the amassed unread books around the house. But sometimes you want what you want RIGHT NOW.
Eating wasabi peas is not one of those wants that you should satisfy whenever it springs. Especially not in the morning on an empty stomach.
Ugh.
I'm already all out of fanfiction this morning. There have been decent ones. There have been pretty awful ones where my suspension of disbelief has threatened to shatter and shred the authors with shrapnel (that's not quite alliteration, but it pleases me).
In regards to recently read Batman fanfic:
Complaints about just one: Clubbing a suspect on the head when he's already apprehended is what is known as police brutality, and the victim of said brutality would probably walk on account. ... It's not up to detectives to determine why or if people are crazy. Change your character's motives, or change her profession. Or stop. Just full-stop. ... And nobody survives being a cop or a detective when they throw a temper tantrum every time a suspects says something unkind. Really.
Also, a general observation--there were apparently a lot of Mary-Sues at Bruce Wayne's benefit for Harvey Dent. Dozens, maybe. I don't know how Chris Nolan managed to dodge all of them, really.
In reading the fanfiction, I definitely get a better grasp of what others perceive about these characters. But, more than that, my own perceptions become a bit clearer to me--what works and what doesn't. What works in the illustrated universe of Batman is not necessarily what works in the animated series, Burtonverse, [then that odd gray period of Batman Forever and Batman & Robin that we like to ignore, though I thought Jim and Tommy did well with what they had], or Nolanverse.
For example, reading fanfiction based on the animated series and using Mark Hamill's Joker--if you try to read it and envision Jack or Heath, it might work. And it might not. Similarly, if you read the recent Nolanverse fanfiction, having Mark or Jack in mind can work some of the time. But if it's fangirl mooning of the PWP variety? Well, you get squicked. Or I do, anyway.
That said, I still can't take Bruce/Joker slash seriously at all. Even with the "you complete me" (which, even the first time around, made me think inappropriately, "I wish I knew how to quit you.") and the "I don't wanna kill you--what would I do without you?" lines. I get it. They're a yin yang, immovable object and unstoppable force, blah blah blah. But I can't see Bruce touching Joker unless it's to clock him silly. Joker/Scarecrow, I've read; and I think it sits better with me because they're both cold-crazy.
But, actually, nothing that paints the Nolanverse Joker as being sexually driven really works for me. The drama/romance/non-con/PWP just doesn't fly, and the writing always goes quickly out of character. Anarchy, the biggest shock, turning stuff on its head--that works, that's believable. And, reading people cite the Joker/Rachel interaction as proof of sexual motives? No. First, he goes after the old man in the scene because the old man sets himself apart by speaking out. He turns his attention to Rachel only because she too chooses to set herself apart by speaking out. The sexual innuendo is merely the sure-fire way to cause the most shock and horror; and he may recognise her as Harvey Dent's girlfriend, so it's also the quickest way to drag the DA out of hiding--which is why they're there, after all.
Tragic and abused? Some writers have taken the story that the Joker tells the mob boss (right before gutting him), as gospel truth about the character, using it to create a more understandable and wounded version of the character (that an OFC will obviously comfort, kiss, and make all better). Except--clearly he's telling stories, as we get an entirely different account of scar-origin during the benefit party. I'm with Michelle in thinking that he probably did this to himself, and just enjoys telling the most effectively horrifying story per whatever audience he has at the time.
OK, enough criticism for now ...
I recognise people on my commute. And they recognise me. It's a complacently good-natured community.
22 July 2008
because it's eerier
"The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning" > "The End Is The Beginning Is The End"
I particularly like the effect of the lightly tinkling piano keys at the intro.
Also downloaded the Chumbawamba soundtrack to Revengers Tradedy (using that much-neglected iTunes balance from Christmas). It includes sound bites from the film. Love it.
My iTunes list is built on a foundation of soundtracks.
21 July 2008
no surprise
So there's a massive explosion of TDK fanfiction out there, but it's where it is that's sort of surprising.
Very little over at adultfanfiction.net so far--well, plenty of Scarecrow, but nothing much to do with The Joker yet. Fanfiction.net, on the other hand, has been fueled to constant activity in the Batman Begins archive (which handles everything in the Nolanverse of Batman). LJ communities seem loath to include OCs (original characters--or, Mary-Sues, if you prefer), but fanfiction.net is Mary-Sue-Central. From what I've been reading in the LJ communities, it's mainly Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Joker slash time--and some of them include fanart.
You know, I can really get into the many possibilities of Harry Potter-slash and Angel/Spike and Doctor/Jack and Jack/Ianto ... But I don't know how I feel about Batman-slash yet. I can almost happily read the Mary-Sues instead, but then I'm not as vehemently against Mary-Sues as some of my fellow readers.
And I'm quite entertained, but, like most fanfiction, find myself needing to be incredibly forbearing. Because some of it--the majority of it, if I'm being totally honest--is terrible.
I loved the nurse scene. I was so happy when I found somebody had done some animated icons thereof.
Still better--if I can find an icon of the faux-guilty "Hiiiiiiii ..." moment.
20 July 2008
makes you stranger
Encore. No, really, I need to see The Dark Knight again.
And maybe I'll be doing that today at CinemaSalem. I know it probably won't compare to yesterday's IMAX experience, but still ... NEED. Or, rather, very much want.
The first show is at 1145. I wonder if they're sold out for the day already. It's worth a shot, and it only takes me five minutes to walk over there and find out.
Picked up books 9 and 10 of Fables at Harrison's yesterday evening. My original idea was to look for a copy of Watchmen to flip through and decide whether or not to read. And then I came to a spinning rack of the Fables books first, which kind of doomed anything else's chances.
Things that are far too convenient at present: the gelati and coffee at Jaho, the incredible wealth of comics and other fandom paraphernalia (yes, they have Whoverse) at Harrison, CinemaSalem (which may only have three screens, but knows how to pick 'em), and the Derby book store. These are practically all of my favourite vices contained within a half-mile radius of home.
In relation to a previous entry, the cold-brew turned out quite well. I may mess with the ratios in future attempts, but this was not disappointing.
16 July 2008
from the New York Times: Iced Coffee? No Sweat
Because I know I'm not the only one who ridiculously pours hot coffee over ice in order to have my coveted iced coffee. BEFORE I go telling everybody that the secret to great iced coffee is already in the kitchen, my friend Keller wants me to confess: I didn't know from iced coffee until he showed me the light. It's important to cop to this now, because not a summer goes by that he does not painstakingly remind me, a rabid iced-coffee drinker, that he's the one who introduced me to the wonders of cold-brewed iced coffee. The funny thing is, when the subject came up we were holed up in a summer rental with three friends off the coast of Puerto Rico, on a tiny island not exactly swimming in upmarket coffee houses. Our first morning there I brewed a blend from the local grocery in the coffeepot, laced it with a little half-and-half and sugar, then let it cool. Classy, I thought, carrying the pitcher to the table. ''I'll just take it hot,'' he mumbled, while I blinked in disbelief. Clearly, this boy didn't know any better. A drink has a time and place. Surely he didn't subscribe to drinking hot coffee in summer? ''No, I only drink iced coffee if it's cold-brewed,'' he said. For five days we watched him sullenly sip his hot coffee on a broiling Caribbean island in the dead of summer. We chided him for his pretensions, ridiculed him, tried valiantly to break him, but he patiently waited us out. Once we tried it we would understand, he explained. Like friends disputing a baseball stat in a bar with no access to Google, we had no way to settle the argument. Two weeks later, back in Brooklyn, I saw a sign: ''Cold-Brewed Iced Coffee Served Here.'' Fine, then. I threw down two bucks and took a sip. Though it pains me to admit, the difference was considerable. Without the bitterness produced by hot water, the cold-brewed coffee had hints of chocolate, even caramel. I dropped my sugar packet -- no need for it. The best brews hardly need cream. It really is the kind of thing a gentleman might spend five days in hot-coffee solitary confinement for. Most days I'm too lazy to hunt down the elusive cold-brewed cup. But recently I discovered an interesting little fact. Cold-brewed coffee is actually dirt simple to make at home. Online, you'll find a wealth of forums arguing for this bean or that, bottled water over tap, the 24-hour versus the 12-hour soak. You can even buy the Toddy cold-brew coffee system for about $30. But you can also bang it out with a Mason jar and a sieve. You just add water to coffee, stir, cover it and leave it out on the counter overnight. A quick two-step filtering the next day (strain the grounds through a sieve, and use a coffee filter to pick up silt), a dilution of the brew one-to-one with water, and you're done. Except for the time it sits on the kitchen counter, the whole process takes about five minutes. I was curious to see how it would taste without all the trappings. The answer is, Fantastic. My friend Carter, something of a cold-brewing savant, turned me onto another homegrown trick: freeze some of the concentrate into cubes. Matched with regular ice cubes, they melt into the same ratio as the final blend. Very fancy. Can't wait to tell Keller. Recipe: Cold-Brewed ICED COFFEE Time: 5 minutes, plus 12 hours' resting Time: 5 minutes, plus 12 hours' resting 1/3 cup ground coffee (medium-coarse grind is best) Milk (optional). 1. In a jar, stir together coffee and 1 1/2 cups water. Cover and let rest at room temperature overnight or 12 hours. 2. Strain twice through a coffee filter, a fine-mesh sieve or a sieve lined with cheesecloth. In a tall glass filled with ice, mix equal parts coffee concentrate and water, or to taste. If desired, add milk. NOTE: To make hot coffee, dilute concentrate one-to-one with water and heat in the microwave.
For the original article:
ICED COFFEE? NO SWEAT
By CINDY PRICE
Published: June 27, 2007
15 July 2008
useless productivity
"And why aren't you well-rested?"
Because I wanted to see the end of the Star Trek: TNG two-parter on Sci-Fi (in spite of the fact that I've seen the Spock-defects-to-Romulus episodes before). And because I was on the internets until midnight. And then messing around with my iPod for another half-hour for no good reason.
So I'm a walking wreck today.
On the other hand, I finally had a Lush day on Sunday, which was awesome. I put the sound-dock just inside the bathroom door, turned the volume up, and lounged and sang along to Coldplay for a good hour. Also kept thinking of Ford Prefect, shouting, "You're a load of useless bloody loonies!" Not a particularly kind bubble-bath reference, but it made me giggle.
Speaking of Coldplay, "Violet Hill" is getting an awful lot of play-time on my iPod lately. Considering breaking down and outright buying the entire Viva la Vida album, since I do like what I've heard of the rest of it ...
Movie things--The Quiet American and The Air I Breathe arrived on Friday, and I took my time watching them. I might be on a Brendan Fraser kick right now. They were both good, but I liked The Air I Breathe more than I had expected (more than Netflix expected I would, certainly--if you're unfamiliar with this feature, based on your reviews of films, Netflix guesses how much you will or will not enjoy films you haven't seen). Air is similar to Crash in that it examines how several lives intertwine, looked at separately and where they cross--except that here they really do cross, whereas I felt a few of the "crashes" in Crash were more like gazes across a crowded room. Which is more realistic? Well, neither is particularly realistic to me, but they are movies; is realism the point?
I'm expecting Gotham Knight in today's mail--veering away from the Brendan Fraser bout of films, and prepping for The Dark Knight, which I'm seeing with
Books--Revenger's Tragedy. Still. Nearly done. Promise.
Next on the list? I should probably turn back to Anna Karenina. You can tell how excited I am about that, I suppose. Oh, well. I'll at least feel accomplished when it's over. Maybe.
14 July 2008
top 5's
Sob-fests and children's books ...
Today, from thewhyfive ...
Top 5 Sad Movies:
1. The Joy Luck Club - It's all about relationships, the generation gap, hopes and dreams fulfilled and dashed. The ending with the sisters' uniting always makes me cry.
2. Moulin Rouge - Not a "sad" movie, per se, but the ending is MISERABLE. Again with the crying.
3. Finding Neverland - The mother is dying from the moment the audience sees her. You know she's going to die, but the ending is still a bawl-fest when she "sees" Barrie's imaginary world come to life.
4. Pan's Labyrinth - Again, not exactly a sad movie, but Javier Navarrete's score pulls at the heart-strings.
5. The Last Samurai - Beautiful and sad, it's about the destruction of a terribly graceful way of life.
Honourable mention: The Fox and the Hound. This made me cry as a child. It probably still would.
Dishonourable mention: Atonement - Because it's sad, and did make me cry, but definitely went above and beyond the call of duty to wrench out the viewer's heart and stomp on it for good measure. Definitely a bitter "oh, fuck you, movie-makers" kind of cry.
Top 5 Favorite Children's Books:
1. Where the Sidewalk Ends and other Shel Silverstein books -- gently grim poetry for youngsters.
2. Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak -- You have to love monsters you can play with.
3. Strega Nona by Tomie dePaola -- because who doesn't want a Magic Pasta Pot?
4. The Woodland Folk in Dragonland by Tony Wolf -- I would spend hours looking at the illustrations in this book--beautiful and riddled with short episodes about the woodland folk's interactions with dragons (good and bad but mostly bad).
5. Anything by Dr. Seuss -- fun pictures and [usually] good messages (Hop On Pop was probably not a good message).
Honourable mention: Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling, as I was not a child when it was published.
10 July 2008
can't wait
Time's praises
I just wish it were coming out this week.
On a semi-related note, I watched The Man Who Laughs (1928) last night. It wasn't an arbitrary push to the head of the queue--
Conrad Veidt's performance as Gwynplaine--the man who was mutilated as a child, a permanent grin carved on his face as punishment for his father's rebellion against James II--served as inspiration for the original character design of Batman's Joker. It's all about physical appearance, mind you. Gwynplaine's psychology is nothing like The Joker's; in spite of the fact that Gwynplaine really has more reasons to be insane and vengeful (his disfigurement, his father's murder, the loss of his inheritance, and the fact that everyone considers him a sideshow), he's a very good person. Whereas, by Tim Burton's telling, Jack was a rather dull monster before his accident; the results of the surgeon's efforts just emphasise what we already know about him, and turn him into a more obvious monster.
In terms of genre, beyond the initial scenes of the Iron Lady and Conrad Veidt's grotesque expression, I'm not sure why this is classified as horror. Macabre, yes. Horror, no.
09 July 2008
lulling minds
Netflix sent me The Man Who Laughs, Persepolis, and disc two of Season One of Hustle (which was cracked along its radius, alas).
Within fifteen minutes of getting home, the Peapod truck arrived with my groceries, and then I spent the next hour and a half talking on the phone with the parents while making dinner.
The sweet potato rice idea came from a book of bento recipes (though I didn't use the prescribed sake and replaced the salt with a little soy). Asparagus came in the delivery, and the beef cubes were left around from the Market Basket shopping spree. I now have an abundance of sweet potato rice. It's good; but there's a lot of it.
On the food note, I think I might visit Super 88 during tomorrow's lunch break and see what I can find in dried mushrooms (or even their fresh mushrooms, since they might have a decent selection) and other dried food stuffs that would be easy to carry home.
Anyway, I didn't actually sit down to dinner-and-a-movie until eight o'clock. Movie choice? Persepolis. I really, really, really like this movie. It's funny and sad and amazing.
I think my favourite part might be when a young Marjane Satrapi is wandering through the purveyors of contraband goods (Western music, cosmetics, alcohol), and the dealers are muttering their wares as she passes by: "Bee Gees" - "ABBA" - "Pink Floyd" - "nail polish" - "Jichael Mackson" (yes, just like that).
After it was over, I was browsing through the special features and realised there was an English audio function. I'd been watching it in its original French audio with English subtitles. Oh, well. Nothing against Iggy (because I love Iggy), but the French Uncle Anoosh was probably better. Originals usually are.
Seeing the movie makes me want to read the graphic novels more than ever.
07 July 2008
G.I. Joe, resurrected
OK, due to a brief glance at an icon, I had to check up on this (because it could have been like the journal layout for the supposed Outlander movie that doesn't actually exist--though, whereas G.I. Joe has been done to death and is more inappropriate than ever, I could do with an actual Outlander movie).
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G.I._Joe_%28film%29
So ... is Christopher Eccleston going to be bald (and shiny)? No? That's sad.
Also on the list--
Heroes: Brendan Fraser (is Gung Ho?), Dennis Quaid, Ray Park, Marlon Wayans, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje (Lost's Mr. Eko)
Heels: Christopher Eccleston (is supposed to look like this), Joseph Gordon-Levitt (remember the love-sick kid from 10 Things I Hate About You? no? well, he's Cobra Commander)
Jonathan Pryce is the President, which is great, him being Welsh and everything--and an interesting contrast to whomever may be holding the office at the time.
But, I have to say, while I enjoyed the 80's cartoon--because I was 4 or 5 and it didn't mean anything to me on more than an entertainment level, like Teddy Ruxpin or The Gummi Bears, one of many in a long line-up of cartoon distractions--and still think of it with fond nostalgic feelings, it seems incredibly inappropriate for the age.
"Real American Hero" ... uh, yeah, about that. Nobody likes us anymore. The America-to-the-rescue theme just doesn't fly. At all. And that makes me especially curious about the plot for this movie and how they will or won't reconcile that reality. Maybe they'll all go somewhere and do something that nobody actually wants them to do.
Or they could play up the classic kitsch and ignore reality. But what with Destro having a receding hairline and no shininess, I'm guessing they're avoiding the kitsch.
On the other hand, it's G.I.-freaking-Joe; there MUST be kitsch--like the Palindrome Twins. OK, that's not what they're called, but still. Kitsch. Character disappointment is inevitable with things like this--like the absence of Gambit in X-Men. Still disappointed.
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.
01 July 2008
BloodCopy
http://bloodcopy.com/
I enjoy this site immensely--especially the YouTube videos.
And Lamar is more than welcome to move in next door to me. He has a great voice.
I would also love to know what they're spending to create this kind of platform. That's not a criticism, as I think it's pretty cool that they're busy creating this alternate realty that the show and books reside in (the "vampires exist and everyone knows" versus "vampires exist but it's a big Scoobie-gang secret").
But really, this is extra material that will probably never see HBO--and why would it?--and will be lucky if it ends up being extras on a DVD release. So what does all this stuff cost?
True Blood - The Pilot
Due to BitTorrent's initial slowness, I tried to watch the pilot episode of True Blood on tudou.com yesterday evening.
For clarification, Tudou is one of the many Asian video-sharing sites out there. It one-ups YouTube by going mostly unnoticed by the lawyers responsible for pulling various materials from YouTube and GoogleVideo. The downside is that many of the videos you will find on Tudou or MegaVideo or Veoh will be titled with Chinese characters.
So the second part of the True Blood pilot was there and labeled 'B', but there was no part 'A' to be found. Thus, I watched the last half hour of the 90-minute pilot.
By the time I woke up this morning, BitTorrent was finished with the transfer. So I watched the first fifteen minutes with breakfast before I had to brush my teeth and leave to catch my train.
So I've seen forty-five minutes of the pilot--forty-five broken minutes with a major gap in between.
And, happily, I'm excited to see the rest of it when I get home.
Much like the books, I get the feeling I'm going to feel split between the guys and whom I want Sookie to end up with. The actors playing Bill and Sam are mostly spot-on. Sam's hair is meant to be a bit more ... well, more, but the rest of him seems right. The actor's name is Sam too--and I seem to recall him as one of Dexter's trophy serial killers. The actress playing Sookie's friend Tara was Whitney on Passions. Tara is much less polite, but, strangely, I get the idea that the character is a better person.
The theme music (well, it might be the theme music; occasionally what you hear in the pilot is cut or changed by the time the show actually airs) is fitting for the setting and the plot. If there could be a Dark-Country genre (ala Dark Wave and/or Death Metal), that's how I'd describe the sound and lyrics. Better similarity--Nick Cave's "Red Right Hand."
So far as pacing goes, it looks like they might be going two to three chapters per episode, but my memory of Dead Until Dark might be a fuzzy (it's been at least five years since I read it). Whatever the case, I think they could get a good cable-season out of each book, the events of which are fairly episodic anyway. Granted, the Writers Strike could land the show on the chopping block before it's had its day, since it was meant to be out in early Spring this year, and it was pushed back to September. Still, it suits the Fall season. They might be better off.
Likely to follow this up once I've actually finished watching the full episode.
30 June 2008
pilot leakage
I've been waiting for news about True Blood, because I really enjoy the book series upon which it is based.
And then today I read this on WordPress.
So I checked mininova for providers, and sure enough ... the search results.
I know what I'm doing when I get home.
I've quickly become a fan of the 57 bus. It's about ten minutes faster than the B line, which doesn't seem like very much, but can make the difference of a half hour of waiting at North Station.
Now watching the season finale of The Tudors. It's grim and kind of, well, anticlimactic. In spite of the fact that it's Jonathan Rhys-Meyers--I really hate Henry. But then, that's as it should be.
For the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, visit: masquedbunny.livejournal.com.
26 June 2008
telling me a story
My parents picked me up at the train station yesterday afternoon (the first sunny and non-torrentially-raining day in the week is the day they're there to give me a ride--of course). They're back from the Berkshires for a bit, as A Prairie Home Companion isn't until Saturday. Due to the thunderstorms that have been rolling through, they've been doing outlet shopping and scouting for furniture, and picked up a safe beige curtain for the door to the deck. The room is no longer on display--huzzah!
We went out to dinner at the Lyceum Bar and Grill, which was excellent and in walking distance of the apartment. Did an after-dinner walk around the Common, and then went back home again.
It was an afternoon for people telling me stories, by the way. My dad, who, on the way home, confessed to removing the door to the deck and hanging up a shower curtain to keep the rain out ... NO. And then the host at the restaurant. Big ol' story-tellers.
On a television note, The Riches can be embarrassing to watch with one's parents. I don't recommend it.
Commuting is coming easily. I always manage to get a seat, and I'm starting to recognise the usual suspects who share my schedule.
There is something weird though. Standing in North Station, one might suddenly see a herd of people rush out to a platform that hasn't been announced. I can't figure out how they know it's their train. Because the rest of us stand and watch the line-up for the track announcement, and by the time we get out there, there are already a hundred people on board. And there's no apparent rhyme or reason to the thing, as the track is almost never the same one as the day before.
Is there a secret society with a decoder watch that announces the track number ten minutes before it appears on the board?
Chalk it up on the list of things to find out, I suppose.
Hooray! My internet is being installed tomorrow! Time to get a wireless router.
For the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, visit: masquedbunny.livejournal.com.
23 June 2008
and kicking
My downstairs neighbors (at least, I think it was my downstairs neighbors, since I don't imagine anybody else could've come in the front door, and wandered upstairs) left me a welcoming present from their favourite neighborhood bakery--croissants and danishes and bread. I think they must have dropped it off some time on Sunday, but I didn't notice until I walked out the door this morning. I feel kind of bad about that for a few reasons. One, I don't know how well the goodies will be now when they're not fresh. Two, I still haven't seen my neighbors. And now three, I really ought to thank them, and wish I had done yesterday ...
Anyway, I put the box of baked goods in the fridge before I left, so I hope I didn't spoil them by letting them sit out there on the landing overnight. I'm putting my faith in the preservative properties of sugar.
Damn it. I'm already a bad neighbor, and I haven't even talked to anybody yet.
I was trying to get everything out of the cardboard boxes, and didn't leave the house at all. On one hand, good for productivity. On the other hand, it would've been nice to wander my new stomping grounds. Oh, well. There will certainly be time for that.
Saturday night discovery--the cable is still hooked up. On a whim, I plugged in the television just to see, and now I'm wishing I already owned a modem. Still... That will be installed on Friday.
Turned on AMC for a background--The Last Samurai and Alexander being heralded as "Future Classics," with which I take some umbrage--while unpacking and then having dinner.
I had intended to sleep in yesterday, and I had left my iPod in the Sound Dock overnight for a sense of familiarity. And then, at around 0830, I awoke to a strange blend of Lunasa coming from the speakers, and swinging big band music--coming from outside. Think more casual New Orleans big band, rather than rigid marching band, and you'll have a good idea of the sound. And it would've been irritating, except that it was actually quite good. So I opened more of the windows and the deck door to let the music breeze in and through the house.
Timed the walk from my door to the station. It's a little under ten minutes at a very leisurely pace. I left about fifteen minutes sooner than necessary for my 0627 train. I think I'm going to pick up a 12-trip pass for the remainder of the month this afternoon, just to save time.
It's raining now. I hope my leaving the windows open a few inches wasn't a mistake. Guess I'll find out when I get home ...
19 June 2008
12 June 2008
meme [in bed]
Tagged by Mel ...
List 10 fictional characters you wouldn't kick out of bed (in no particular order) and tag five people to do the same.
1. Jack Harkness -- John Barrowman might be gay, but his character is omni, and reported to be fabulous in bed.
2. The Tenth Doctor -- can come along with Jack (but we'll need a bigger bed).
3. James "Sawyer" Ford -- and yes ...
4. Strife -- bound to be kinky
5. Geoffrey Chaucer (ala A Knight's Tale, though technically a real--and very dead--person)
6. Mr. Darcy (the 1995 BBC version, please), though probably too proper to randomly show up in one's bed uninvited (or unmarried) *sigh*
7. George Emerson (of the 1985 film adaptation)
8. Don Juan DeMarco
9. Cupid (or practically any other Karl Urban character) -- I imagine the wings take up a lot of room, but hell if I care
10. Spike -- to finish with another borrow from Mel's list
No tagging from me. If you want to do the meme, do ...
11 June 2008
name play
I rented Revengers Tragedy. This is the kind of thing they should make teenagers read if they want them to be at all interested in 17th Century literature. Granted, the kids will probably still go out and rent the movie if it's available to them; but at least they might find the story interesting.
The story begins as our protagonist Vindici returns home to finally take his revenge on the powerful Duke who poisoned Vindici's bride (and all the other guests) on their wedding day, because she would not give in to his lecherous advances. His first stop home is the catacombs, where he talks to his dead girl's skull, puppets around a bit, and shrieks at passing little old ladies. Beautifully begun ...
Here we have vengeance; lust, chastity, and loss of honour; keeping promises, whatever the cost; the game of ambition and succession; and incest.
The allegorical names put me in mind of Volpone, because almost all of the names are chosen specifically for their characters' primary nature.
Our hero Vindici (sometimes spelled Vendici) hellbent on vengeance.
The Duke's eldest son Lussurioso, primarly driven by his lustful nature. And for whom?
Castiza, Vindici's sister. Chastity is not her middle name--it's her first. And, surprise, she despises Lussurioso.
Vindici and Castiza's mother Gratiana wants to ingratiate herself and her daughter with Lussurioso for his future Dukedom.
The other sons of the Duke:
Spurio - He's a big liar.
Ambitioso should not require an explanation.
Supervacuo - Not just vacant--SUPERvacant.
and Junior - It's also fitting, because he follows after his father's habits.
I do recommend the film, so long as you don't mind 17th Century dialogue in a post-apocalyptic Liverpool setting. Christopher Eccleston, Eddie Izzard, and Derek Jacobi star.
06 June 2008
dishing Dracula
Dracula and The White River Kid were waiting for me when I got home yesterday. After calling to check on my dad's progress with returning from D.C., I grabbed my Chinese leftovers and popped in Dracula.
I can appreciate what Masterpiece Theatre was trying to do, mostly. They're trying to mix in some real medical concerns to explain why Harker would ever go to Transylvania. Vampires and syphilis. Ummm ... wow. Okay, so Lord Holmwood is engaged to Lucy Westerna, but he finds out his father is dying of syphilis, and that his mother committed suicide when she found out that she had caught it from the father and that Lord Holmwood was infected at birth. So, good fiance that he is, he tells Lucy and calls off their engagement, right?
Right?
Um, no. Let's contact this London blood cult and see if they can cure Lord Holmwood's terrible affliction. Ah, yes, we can do that--the the help of this guy in the Carpathian Mountains--and some money and property would be nice as well.
Well the cult can't contract a very large firm to deal with these matters. No, much too easy to track. So they contact a two-man operation, and this mini-firm sends the younger partner, Jonathan Harker (engaged to Lucy's friend Mina, by the way), to Transylvania to talk to their employer. And just after he leaves, the blood cult murders the other fifty percent of the firm.
This is where this version actually begins to resemble the Gary Oldman version. Harker arrives in the dark and magnificently damp and muddy Castle Dracula. Count Dracula appears to be a sick old man with very dirty fingernails. The fingernails never improve, actually; they're pretty gross for the full extent of the movie. He asks after England and its fade of religious belief, becomes enamored of Harker's folding picture-frame of Mina with a lock of her hair attached to the interior, and--after Harker discovers Dracula in his coffin covered in every kind of insect the crew could get their hands on--drains the trepid young lawyer.
Meanwhile, Holmwood and Lucy marry, but Holmwood won't consummate the relationship until he's cured, so they've gone north to live in a lonely castle on the edge of the ocean. Mina, ever more concerned about Harker from whom she's heard nothing since his arrival in Transylvania, goes to stay with them.
The blood cult, keeping tabs on Dracula's scheduled passage, hears that the ship by-passes London and continues up the coast toward Holmwood's estate. Not to seek out Holmwood, but because Dracula is on Mina's scent thanks to the lock of hair that Harker kept with him. The ship beaches itself below Holmwood's estate, but the crew has disappeared, and there's no sign of Dracula besides an inexplicable crate full of dirt.
Mina is wandering through the graveyard when she thinks she sees her Jonathan, and runs to him only to find--Count Dracula, who is looking much better after some steady and proper vamp nutrition. The sexually frustrated Lucy also appears, and, after her invitation (vampires and invitations), the Count accompanies them back to the estate for wine and sexy brooding.
Eventually Holmwood shows up in a temper, because Dracula isn't much interested in helping him with his condition, and is much more interested in, in his words, "enjoying" the ladies of the house. Holmwood becomes violent. Dracula is more violent--and informs Holmwood that he's going to take everything he loves.
As per the original, the sickness of blood loss visits Lucy while she sleeps. Difference--Masterpiece Theatre actually gets some brownie points, by the way--Lucy and Dracula both become less frustrated in the process. It's a lot more believably sensual than Oldman's bouffanted version, and a lot more sensual than I expect from Masterpiece Theatre. Good for them!
Lucy dies, of course, and the story and characters return to London. Mina is lonely. Her best friend is dead, and her fiance is presumed dead. Who else should show up to be a shoulder of comfort but our good Count Dracula?
I think my primary complaint is that the film spends a lot of time leading up to all of this with a reasonable explanation, but very little time is actually devoted to Holmwood, Seward, and Van Helsing hunting down Dracula. It all happens too quickly. Good lead-in, but it could've stood another half-hour of running time with more advantage taken of Marc Warren's youthful version of Dracula. But then I felt the same way about Gary Oldman's performance.
I did enjoy it. I think I'll keep the DVD until tomorrow. I think I'm also adding the first three series of Hustle to my Netflix queue. Hustle weirdness: Robert Vaughn. He does commercials for various law firms around the country, and definitely one here in Massachusetts. He was also Napoleon Solo and General Stockwell, but that was kind of a long time ago ...
04 June 2008
02 June 2008
Happy June!
We seem to have skipped Spring, as per the usual for Boston weather. Cold, cold, rain, cold--muggy and unbearable! Really, there ought to at least be two or three weeks where I can leave the windows open in the morning and come home to a pleasantly cool room. No such luck.
New-home stuff moves along. I need more boxes.
No, Turbo, I'm not still holding my breath ... but I'm not jumping for joy yet either. Because I'm afraid of jinxing myself.
Finished reading Part II of Anna Karenina. Anna and Alexei's marriage is going down the drain, so that Anna can pursue her relationship with the other Alexei--Vronsky. Kitty isn't depressed about Vronsky anymore, but latching on to a kind of Born-Again-ness inspired by her trip to Germany. Aaaannnnd ... Levin is being a surly farmer.
I know it's epic and fabulous, and I really was drawn in by Tolstoy's description of Vronsky's doomed race horse. But ... well, I'm bored. The only reason I even bothered to tear through Part II was because I knew I'd be reading Funke and Pratchett when I was done. And now I'm reading Inkspell.
Speaking of Pratchett ... I have [ashamedly] been reading Teatime fan-fic. I blame Marc Warren and that neurotic part of me that falls for creepy men who probably smell nice.
Netflix delivered Tron and Turtles Can Fly. Tron was broken, so I've notified Netflix, and am mailing that back today. I still haven't sat down to watch Turtles Can Fly. It's not a movie you can watch while doing something else, because it's a Middle Eastern film with subtitles; and, yes, I could half-heartedly read every other subtitle while doing something else, but that kind of inattention will probably only lead to confusion and much rewinding.
Watched most of Season One of The Sopranos over the weekend on surfthechannel.com. Except that the second part of the season finale wouldn't load, so I'm left hanging. Maybe I can get it to work for me today. Tony's mannerism remind me much of my grandfather (who actually looked more like Paulie, but ...), except that Tony is actually more socially evolved than my grandfather ever was. Fear and distrust of psychiatry is spot-on, except that Tony moves beyond that and has a psychiatrist. My grandfather never got beyond that distrust--which was unfortunate for his kids, because more than a few of them have serious unresolved issues. Also, Junior looks a lot like my Great Uncle Pat.
It's fun to compare pronunciation of Mid-Atlantic Italian with actual Italian. Everything is a little mutated.
29 May 2008
distractions
I lied. I finished Twilight yesterday morning before leaving for work, and I'm not reading Anna Karenina. I picked up The Good Fairies of New York again. It's still fairly flat, but I'll finish with it tonight or tomorrow.
It's not even the story that I find flat. The plot is good, the character ideas are good. But the execution is wrong. It sometimes reads like a daily comic, minus graphics. Very choppy and not enough imagery by far. The characters' manners of speaking are also awkward and not very naturalistic. I feel like I know what Millar is trying to do with it--minimalism akin to the telling of classic fairy tales--but I just don't think it works, not when your characters are not recognisable archetypes.
Following Twilight with this is making me feel like a very fussy reader. I think I'll try to get through Part Two of Anna when I'm done with Good Fairies. But Anna is a lot like a soap opera, without the satisfaction of steamy sex or over the top violent and melodramatic moments. I think the suspicion of this very thing is why I've been avoiding Tolstoy all these years.
I also added Dickens' The Pickwick Papers to my Summer Reading List. I might regret that decision eventually too.
My book-per-week plan should be back on track by the end of June if I keep tossing a couple of shorter novels between Parts of Anna Karenina. I think Funke's Inkspell and Pratchett's Sourcery are two good candidates for my next Anna-break.
Netflix sent me Stage Beauty, largely to do with English theatre in the late seventeenth century and focusing particularly on Edward Kynaston, one of the last male leading ladies before Charles II outlawed men in women's parts. I enjoyed it very much. Billy Crudup has a remarkably angular face, and, yes, is a very pretty man--though, in my opinion, much better-looking as a man than, as the movie seems to suggest at times, a woman. The half-hour long behind-the-scenes bonus feature was interesting. Tom Hollander's good-natured griping about Billy Crudup--excellent.
I was also supposed to get Stealing Beauty, but that didn't arrive. And they emailed me last night to say that Tron is being sent from New Brunswick, so there's no knowing how long that will take to get here.
The Lost finale is this evening, but I don't know whether to be excited or wary. I don't see how this season can end well.
27 May 2008
safe to say
Or maybe 'third time's a charm' is more apt?
I suppose it's not safe to say anything until the actual closing ... but I've done the home inspection, and a list of needed fixes was proposed--upon which there was general agreement, so ...
Things are moving forward nicely. Knock on wood.
Closing is set for 20. June.
Can I breathe yet, or should I hold my breath for another four weeks? Ugh.
I packed away my winter clothes this weekend. It did two things. First, it de-cluttered my room in a big way. Second, it made me feel like I was packing, which I really don't want to put off until 16. June or something. So that sort of feeling of productivity was a bonus. Let's keep doing a bit of that every weekend.
Probably need to get in touch with a mover. Granted, it won't be a huge move (for distance or belongings), but I can't ask my friends to move me again and I can't lug this stuff up a flight of stairs (or two) on my own. Done with that. I should ask Tom for a recommended mover.
Watched Hogfather on Sunday while cleaning/packing. That was unexpectedly brilliant--well, unexpected to me, just because I lack faith in made-for-TV movies. But I suppose I should have more faith when it's Terry Pratchett. I really like what Marc Warren did with the assassin Mr. Teatime (te-ah-TIM-eh ... :-P). His voice was very much like Johnny Depp's rendition of Willy Wonka, only intentionally creepy (though I have my suspicions that that's what Depp was going for anyway). On the whole, it reminded me a lot of Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas, what with a skeleton man taking on the role of Father Christmas and everything. It does make me wonder which story existed first--Pratchett's novel or Burton's film?
Put down Anna Karenina and picked up The Good Fairies of New York, which was reading a little flat in my current mood, so I put it down and picked up Twilight. It's kind of a 500-page Mary Sue (our heroine's name is Bella Swan--really, now), and many of the characters are annoying, and many of the situations are contrived, and I keep waiting for the Hurt/Comfort plot device to enter into it (it's really the best way to endear your readership to a potentially dangerous or unlikeable character--make him/her do something selfless or comforting for your wounded protagonist). I'm so cynical. Still, it's proving to be a quick read, and I'll probably finish it this evening. Maybe it's the whole 'Young Adult' fiction thing, but they don't do anything. Too much angst and no action--and not much hope of any either. I will see the movie when it comes out in December, even if it's bound to be painfully over the top. Robert Pattinson already won me over in Goblet of Fire.
Went to see Indiana Jones on Saturday morning, which was wonderful, because nobody else comes to the cinema at 10 o'clock in the morning. It was over the top, but I loved it. And I loved the brief nods to the other Indy adventures. Yesterday I went to an early showing of Prince Caspian, which I enjoyed more than the previous film--but why are the bad humans Spaniards? I don't understand that. I enjoyed Eddie Izzard's voice work as Reepicheep, and Mr. Caspian (Ben Barnes) made for excellent eye-candy even if his acting was a little flat. Peter Dinklage's acerbic remarks gave a decent balance to the more saccharine moments.
... I'll read Part Two of Anna Karenina when I'm done with Twilight. Honest.
Also, the completely opaque blinds were just installed in my office a few minutes ago. I *heart* my cave.
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