Adaptions and remixes

20 Sep 2017 12:07 pm[personal profile] selenak
selenak: (Borgias by Andrivete)
Two filmed novels in, the tv version of JKR's written-as-Robert-Galbraith mystery novels called Strike comes across as very enjoyable. Holiday Grainger is a delight as Robin, Tom Burke still isn't how I imagined Cormoran Strike, but he's entertaining to watch, and they have good chemistry. Inevitably, characters and subplots were for the axe in both Cuckoo's Call and The Silkworm, but so far they've kept the important emotional beats. In the case of The Silkworm, I'm especially glad my favourite sentence of the entire novel gets to be used in dialogue, though a different character gets to say it on tv: Writers are a savage breed, Mr. Strike. If you want life-long friendship and selfless camraderie, join the army and learn to kill. If you want a lifetime of temporary alliances with peers who will glory in your every failure, write novels."

Of the guest stars, the actresses playing Leonora and Orlando were especially good. I do notice that some of the sharpness of the novels is lost when it comes to politics. I mean, The Silkworm, the novel, has passages like this: : Kenneth Clarke, the Justice Secretary, was announcing plans to slash 350 million pounds from the legal aid budget. Strike watched through his haze of tiredness as the florid, paunchy man told Parliament that he wished to 'discourage people from restoring to lawyers whenever they face a problem, and instead encourage them to consider more suitable methods of dispute resolution.' He meant, of course, that poor people ought to relinquish the services of the law. Nothing like it on tv. But the result still doesn't feel as awfully castrated as the tv version of The Casual Vacancy, which lost all the bite and anger and ruined what might not have been a masterpiece but was a novel with genuine points to raise by turning it into inoffensive blandness, more angry reviews here, possibly because such asides aren't the main issue in the Galbraith novels.

In other news, [community profile] missy_fest has been revealing one Missy story per day-ish. This was the smallest ficathon I ever participated in, but a delight to write and read, and as soon as it's de-anonymized, I'm going to link and talk about the story I wrote. Meanwhile, check out the one I received, which was The Master's Faithful Companion (Forever or Just A Day Remix), which remixed my story Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.
miss_s_b: (Default)
giandujakiss: (Default)
The GOP broke off bipartisan talks with Dems to shore up ACA's insurance markets, and now they're trying - again - to unilaterally repeal ACA and take with it a huge chunk of Medicaid (which will, of course, completely destabilize our entire healthcare system, but that's where we are).

You can find more information by googling Graham-Cassidy, but here's one link.

Apparently, Lindsey Graham - one of the bill's sponsors - got on Breitbart radio (yes, now we're integrating Breitbart into GOP mainstream, fun times ahead) to urge listeners to call in support of the new bill, so it's VERY IMPORTANT that the Senate be flooded with opposition calls.

Here is one script and information resource.

Hard Things

20 Sep 2017 03:50 am[personal profile] ysabetwordsmith
ysabetwordsmith: Cartoon of me in Wordsmith persona (Default)
Life is full of things which are hard or tedious or otherwise unpleasant that need doing anyhow. They help make the world go 'round, they improve skills, and they boost your sense of self-respect. But doing them still kinda sucks. It's all the more difficult to do those things when nobody appreciates it. Happily, blogging allows us to share our accomplishments and pat each other on the back.

What are some of the hard things you've done recently? What are some hard things you haven't gotten to yet, but need to do?

US politics

20 Sep 2017 09:33 am[personal profile] cesy
cesy: "Cesy" - An old-fashioned quill and ink (Default)
Hope not Hate is coming to the US, to counter the rise of international hate groups. American friends, you can sign up here.
submarine_bells: (hahaha)
It's been a rather frustrating week or two, what with one thing and another. So I decided to vent some of my frustrations via The Sims. Using a fairly high profile couple as inspiration, I attempted to create more-or-less lookalike sims, and then picked traits that I deemed appropriate to them. His traits were fairly straightforward to come up with; but for her I had to guess a bit more, since the person she's based on maintains a fairly enigmatic public facade. And so I give you:

The Travails of Tangerine Hitler and Melanoma Hitler

Tangerine & Melanoma Hitler

Since this supposed to be a cathartic exercise, it wouldn't do to have things go too smoothly for Mr & Mrs Hitler. I've set them up in a basic starter home, but removed a few, um, optional extras. For example, their house has no lavatory. It also lacks a fridge and has no beds. But they have a couch and a TV, so surely they'll cope, right? Lets find out!

My self-imposed rules are this: the sims themselves set the pace. Most of what they do is entirely generated by them. If they have wishes, then I'll attempt to fulfill them (or at least, the wishes that appeal to my sense of whimsy). If they seem to develop an interest, I may nudge them further in that direction; and I'll occasionally push them into going outside and saying hello to other sims in the neighbourhood. The rest is up to them. Lets see what happens.

As soon as they arrive in their new abode, Tangerine makes a beeline for the bathroom mirror for a nice inspiring round of pose-a-rama, while Melanoma chats up the local Furry then checks out the offerings on TV:
Screenshot-6

Screenshot-4

Screenshot-5
This seems to be a bit of a theme for Tangerine. Whenever he's bored or unhappy, he immediately decamps to the bathroom to admire himself in the mirror. When he's within eyeshot of it there is no dragging him away from its magnetic allure. Who needs cocaine when you can admire your own reflection for hours on end?

Eventually the thrill wears off a little and he rejoins Melanoma on the couch. She's starting to feel a bit tired and cranky by this time. "Whyever did it seem a good idea to buy a house without beds?" she wails. "All we have is this crummy old couch!" Tangerine rudely ignores her.
Screenshot-20

Before long Tangerine is feeling a bit sleepy as well. Being a caring, sharing sort he tells Melanoma "This is MY couch! Off you go. I wanna get some sleep now."
Screenshot-26

This is not received well:
Screenshot-27

"You're a charmless, mannerless peasant!"
Screenshot-45

"...And your genitalia are charmless, too!"
Screenshot-44

Overcome with fatigue and humiliation, Tangerine proceeds to wet himself...
Screenshot-66

...And then fall asleep in the puddle on the floor.
Screenshot-61

Does Melanoma succumb to temptation and give him a good swift kick? Does their relationship survive this contre-temps? Tune in for the next thrilling episode and find out!
miss_s_b: (Mood: Facepalm)
Many Lib Dems really love The Leader's Speech. It's the traditional end to conference, and sitting in a hall full of likeminded people while the leader's platitudes wash over you is some people's idea of fun. Equally, many of us dislike it intensely. The social pressure to clap in the right places* is intense, and as a liberal who decries conformity it makes my skin crawl. Also, if the leader says something you don't like and you then walk out, it creates negative publicity.

So there are several sets of lib dems who avoid going to The Leader's Speech. Many just go get on the train before the big rush. I know of one group who have a rather sweet tradition of going to get ice cream while the Leader speaks. The Awkward Squad goes to the pub.

It started when Cleggy was Our Glorious Leader. You may recall that I had one or two policy differences with Cleggy**. One conf, and I can't remember which one, I attended the leader's speech, like a good lib dem, and walked out about half way through utterly furious with something or other he had said, thinking "sod this, I'm off to the pub". When I got there I discovered a dear friend was already there. He explained that as he knew Cleggy was bound to say something really annoying, what he did was go to the pub, download the text of the speech, and work out which point he would have walked out anyway. I thought this was an excellent idea, and have been doing it ever since***, and the group of likeminded curmudgeons doing the same has gradually grown over the years.

Fast forward to yesterday.

There's a bunch of us in the pub. One or two would have walked out at the "single market is ok" bits of the speech. I'd have made it past that, but only a couple of paragraphs, the bit about having achieved equal marriage would have been my breaking point****. Anyway, we were all happily chatting away and discussing things and it was all good.

... The problem was when Vince turned up. Yep, that's right, The Leader turned up to Not The Leader's Speech. Apparently it was some photo call to do with a motion we'd passed earlier in the conference.

I wouldn't have minded, but he didn't even get a round in. Bloody Yorkshirefolk, they're all the same*****.

So, I am now carefully researching pubs in Southport for Spring Conference to find one that's 1, good and 2, less likely to be crashed by the sodding leader. It doesn't half put a crimp in avoiding the leader when he turns up all smiles and handshakes.

ETA: Caron has posted about this on lib dem voice now. Countdown to po-faced condemnation in five... four... three...



*and even to stand and ovate. People who don;t stand and ovate in the "right" places often get glared at, or even tutted at.
**although as a human being I find him perfectly personable and likeable.
***Except for Tim Farron's first speech. Tim knows/knew all about Not The Leader's Speech, and made me promise him that I would go to his first one. I warned him that this would mean actually walking out if he said something walkout-worthy... Thankfully he didn't. But none-the-less I didn't go to any of his others. I'm just not a keynote speech type person.
****See here for the big rant about that one. There was a big chorus of groans about this in the pub - "Oh FFS we have to train ANOTHER leader and his staff not to do this..."
*****I am allowed to say this being Yorkshire myself

Posted by SB Sarah

D

Speaker of the Lost

by Clara Coulson
September 15, 2017 · Knite and Day Publishing

It’s getting a little bleak for me, reading-wise. This was the first book I finished after 8 DNFs in a row, some nonfiction and some romance or fantasy. I was pretty excited that the beginning of this story was so promising. Then it became repetitive, emotionally limited, inconsistent, and then offensive.

Summary time! Stella Newport is a brand new FBI agent. Specifically, she’s a Lark, which is the name given to the agents in the paranormal investigation division. She’s sent to work with a curmudgeonly, unkind agent named Oswald Bolton, known informally as “Oz.” There are a couple of familiar character types here: the intelligent rookie who is more than she seems, paired with an experienced, jaded agent who lost his partner prior to the start of this story, and who doesn’t want to work with anyone else because emotional vulnerability is awful and he hates it. He works alone – doesn’t anyone understand that?!

This novel is book 1 of a new series called “Lark Nation,” but according to the listing, it’s part of the same universe as another series. First off: I do not think this book works as a stand-alone, and that’s a shame. The exposition and world building presumed that I knew things that I did not, and many major elements, like the entire other worlds and universes that exist parallel to the one the characters inhabit, are very sparsely described.

As a result, I switched between being frustrated that I didn’t get what the characters were talking about and being annoyed that they were so lacking in basic understanding of jurisprudence. For FBI agents, they didn’t know much about aspects of investigation that I would think were obvious. For example: if you suspect your partner has been hit in the head with a brick, throwing that brick into the water while you’re having a tantrum because she’s been fridged seems like a bad idea. Oz’s reasoning is that the rain washed away the evidence that it was used in an assault, but that’s some pretty flawed reasoning for an experienced agent. There are also multiple instances where “something” isn’t right, or “something” seems off, but the main characters shrug it off, or figure they’ll deal with whatever it is at a later time.

Stella and Oz are in Maine investigating a beheading. Some guy was walking home at night on a deserted road, and a headless horseman shows up and lops his head clean off. So Stella is sent to assist Oz, who is already on site, but because there are so many supernatural crimes happening all over the country – a byproduct of some event that happened in the earlier series which I didn’t read – there’s not much in the way of backup for either of them. At one point Stella has a call with her supervisor where she has to tell him about a few more beheadings that happened – and I was so confused how that wasn’t information said supervisor would need to know as soon as they had happened.

The book started out pretty strong – Stella is nervous about her first investigation, but very smart, capable, and confident in her training and her abilities.

Then we meet Oz. Oz is grumpy and also, he’s an asshole. They start by trying to figure out why the dude lost his head – and then more people start dying, and the narrative starts repeating itself. For example: I was told over and over that Stella isn’t sure if she wants to be the one who breaks down Oz’s defenses/”scale the concrete wall Oswald…had built around his heart”/lather rinse repeat.

Honestly, I didn’t care if she did or not. It was perhaps the second or third day of their working together, he barely managed to treat her with respect, and I didn’t really know the scope of what happened to him in the first place. I have dreadfully low tolerance for characters who lack any emotional fluency, and even less for people who use that excuse to treat other people poorly. Example: here’s Oz after he berates a local cab driver – and this is in a small town where he and Stella are already worried about gossip regarding the FBI’s presence and investigation:

Oz knew he’d been too hard on the guy, but again, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the feelings of a random stranger who would ultimately mean nothing in the grand scheme. The cabbie would get over his scare, resume his normal activities, and live, if not happily ever after, then some mediocre variation.

Nice, huh? And it’s pretty consistent with how he treats ancillary characters. I don’t care what kind of structures he’s built around himself. It’s probably a good idea he stay inside them. One of the goals (I presume) of this book is to establish Stella and Oz’s partnership as agents, but the overtly romantic tone, the constant reassertion that it’s somehow Stella’s job to emotionally heal Oswald, and the compressed time period of a few days or maybe a week, did not do enough to make me believe in their alleged progress.

The two things that frustrated me most, aside from the repetitiveness of Stella vs. Oz Walls, were as follows.

First: there was not enough connecting the magic to reality.  There’s a magical world connected to the real one, and the FBI has some sort of jurisdiction over it. But how that works is not ever fully explained, nor is their authority over magical events that happen to humans. Stella has some kind of magical ability (more on that in a moment) and both she and Oz have mage kits and magical rings but the integration of their individual magic into the reality they inhabit was also poorly built. The magical rings are particularly ludicrous: to use one, they have to point the ring at a target and yell “SHOOT!” to make things happen. I kept picturing the elementary school kids in my neighborhood playing superhero and waving their hands at each other: “BOOM! You fell down!” Without a more robust explanation of how the magic works, what the cost is, what its effects are, why they have it and some don’t, the whole wave-your-ring-at-the-bad-guy part seemed dumb.

Then, there’s this part which ruined the whole book for me. Get ready.

Stella is described by Oz when he meets her as follows:

She was roughly twenty-five and built like a ballet dancer, with light brown skin and facial features that spoke of a multiracial ancestry. Her long hair was tamed into a ponytail of black ringlets, leaving no shadows on her face to hide her bright green eyes. No, vividly green eyes. Eyes that almost seemed to shine, even.

I didn’t read about any other characters of color aside from Stella, but figured there would be some. To my knowledge, there were not – though I may have missed a description or two, as I began reading pretty quickly once the book began to sour for me.

Then Oz and the reader learns something pretty crucial about Stella:

Show Spoiler

Stella is revealed to be a powerful telekinetic, and part fae. Oz, it turns out – and this is revealed about him after Stella divulges that her grandmother is Summer fae – hates and distrusts the fae. Which leads to this rumination on his part:

Faeries were not his favorite creatures – they stood one step below vampires on his list of THINGS I HATE – but most of his ire was directed at full-blooded fae. They were mischievous, sadistic creatures, who’d taken their inability to lie and honed it into a mastery of manipulation. They were cold, callous, crafty, and clever, and every interaction Oz had with them in the past ended in absolute disaster….

To think Newport had their blood running through her veins unnerved him. It made him question everything she’d said and done since the moment they met. But…Oz rejected the impulse to categorize Newport with her inhuman relations….

No, Newport’s interactions with Oz had been true to form. She was what she appeared to be. Headstrong. Smart. Practical. Controlled…. She didn’t have faults as an agent that a few years of fieldwork wouldn’t fix.

Weighing all those qualities against her fae blood, Oz could find no legitimate reason to shun her. Her heritage was beyond her control. Her behavior was not, and what she’d displayed so far spoke of a talented agent in the toddler phase who’d one day grow to be a truly spectacular force.

My comment on my device: “Oh, no.”

So Stella is to my knowledge the only character of color in the book, and she’s part fae. But it’s ok: she’s not like other fae, and though Oz hates them all, she’s proved herself so he won’t shun her. Am I supposed to look at Oz favorably for overcoming his own prejudice? Am I supposed to ignore the substitution of “fae prejudice” for racial prejudice?

WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. LIVING. HELL.

If I cringe any harder, I’ll develop a hernia. Sloppy characterization that’s painfully racist is not what I wanted. I’ve sat here watching my blinking cursor trying to think of coherent words to respond to that scene. Stella even lampshades herself in an earlier part of the book, joking with a receptionist who expected Oz’s new partner to be “another brown-haired man around thirty-five” that her unit is “a little more diverse.” But she’s still a token character – on multiple levels.

I get so excited when I see more inclusivity in the fiction I buy. But this is not the representation I’m looking for. This is the exact opposite.

I was close enough to the end that I finished the book, but neither Oz nor the story were redeemable for me. There was so much potential in the first chapters: a bit of X-Files with a complicated set of partners, plus a headless horseman – who talks to the heroine! They have whole conversations after he yanks his head out of his saddlebag! They were the most interesting pair in the book, now that I think about it.

I would have been a lot happier if Stella had left Oz to his grumpy racist emotional navel gazing and run off with the murdering headless horseman.

(no subject)

19 Sep 2017 11:18 pm[personal profile] jhameia
jhameia: ME! (Default)
I don't really know what I did with my day after my morning walk and lunch... I answered some emails?? I read half a book?? I tried making a scrunchie?? IDK IDK IDK it was not successful I used the wrong kind of fabric... scrunchie fabric must also be elastic, not just the elastic core! Too bad... it's so cute! Maybe I can make some fabric jewelry?

Had a bit of a scare with a notice from the Registrar's office stating that because I didn't pay my fees (I did, but it was filing fee status stuff) I was de-registered. I had to get myself registered again and make sure I got my contract for my TAship, and that'll process my fee remission. I am hoping that this will also include non-resident tuition, because that would be $10000 and it would suck. Once that is done I can apply for program extension for my I-20 and then get down to the business of applying for OPT.

I DID get a dissertation defense date: October 11, 3pm - 5pm. The same day as a department party. Hoo boy. I also got comments from Dr. Brevik-Zender, so tomorrow I feel pretty confident about starting a bit more revisions. I'd like to incorporate the comments about including neoliberalism as a framework which informs the discourse of steampunk, although that involves... learning how to talk about neoliberalism. I sort of understand how to talk about it as an overarching ideology but most of what I read about it tends to get wrapped up in talking about economics and government, whereas I need to gear my discussion of it towards how it affects discourses of individual choices and masks institutional frameworks as freedom. I also need to tighten some of my analysis to make sure I'm not doing a lot of summary.

I have stomach issues again. The only culprit I can think of is the rice I ate, and the cookies I got from the store. I've eaten these cookies before with no issue, but that was WAY before the Metformin, so....... maybe my body just hates certain kinds of sugars now?? I may never return to eating cookies with impunity??

Hopefully tomorrow will be a bit more productive??

(no subject)

20 Sep 2017 08:45 am[personal profile] oursin
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
Happy birthdsy, [personal profile] sharpiefan!

Posted by morbane

We have been working on the tag set for 102.5 hours, and the number of individual fandom nominations has gone down from 5058 to 1660. There are 2054 approved fandoms now in the tag set.

Thank you for your answers to the previous queries! We have some more, and some lingering:


Дуэлянт | The Duelist (2016) - We can't find Pyotr Yakovlev's brother. Could the nominator please confirm he appears in the film?

Extraction (2013) - We can't find a Victor. Could the nominator please confirm he appears in the film?

灵契 | Ling Qi | Spiritpact - This has been nominated with overlapping characters, using Japanese and Chinese names respectively: You Keika, Tanmoku Ki, Tanmoku Rakugetsu, and You Nei; and Yang Jinghua, Duanmu Xi, Duanmu Siming, and Qin Siyao. Could each nominator please confirm which media they mean, and can we please combine these character names using one of the versions?

No Game No Life - Kamiya Yuu - we're a little confused by the character 『 』| Kuuhaku | Blank. Could the nominator please give their reasoning for nominating this character separately?

A Place to Call Home (TV) - We can't find the character Tom. Could the nominator please give us a pointer?

Plantagenets Series - Sharon Kay Penman - For Geoffrey Plantagenet, could the nominator please confirm they mean Geoffrey V Count of Anjou, or some other character?

Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo - It's not clear to us that Nikolai Lantsov belongs here. Could the nominator please give us their reasoning?

Smosh - the characters nominated are Keith Leak Jr., Noah Grossman, Olivia Sui, and Shayne Topp. Could the nominator please clarify if this is a nomination for RPF, or for fictionalized characters that share the names of the real people?

Sylvester or the Wicked Uncle - Georgette Heyer For Lady Marlow, could the nominator please confirm whether they mean Lady Verena Marlow or Lady Constance Marlow?

These Old Shades - Georgette Heyer - As far as we can tell, Dominic Alastair does not appear in this book. (He is also nominated in The Devil's Cub.) Could the nominator please give their reasoning for nominating him here?

Trial and Error (TV 2017) - We can't find the character Anne Cox. Could the nominator please confirm and give us pointers to when she appeared?


All Media Types fandoms
We need clarification from the person (or people) who nominated the following fandoms. Please specify a single version of the canon and provide a link to your nominations page so we can confirm the nomination. If these aren't answered, the fandoms will be rejected:
  • Gone With the Wind - All Media Types, characters: Belle Watling, Careen O'Hara, Mammy, Melanie Hamilton (Gone with the Wind - All Media Types)

  • The Martian - All Media Types, characters: Beth Johanssen, Chris Beck, Mark Watney (The Martian - All Media Types)

  • A Room With a View - All Media Types, characters: Charlotte Bartlett, Eleanor Lavish

  • The Witches of Eastwick - All Media Types, characters: Alexandra Medford, Darryl Van Horne, Jane Spofford, Sukie Ridgemont [if we don't hear back from the nominator on this one, we may go with the 1987 film]


Ensemble characters
We will accept labels like “the Council” or “the hunters” for characters in cases where the ensemble does not have different distinct characters in it. For the following fandoms, please either confirm that there are no distinct characters in the group, or pick a single character out of the group you’ve nominated.
  • Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016) - The Rowdy 3

  • The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orczy - The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel

  • Velvet Goldmine - Flaming Creatures


Ineligible RPF fandoms
The follow RPF fandoms are too large and will not be approved. Nominators, please suggest an alternative category; if we do not hear from you, we may either fold the characters into another nominated category, or reject the fandoms & characters.
  • Formula 1 RPF - characters: Alain Prost, Ayrton Senna

  • Pop Music RPF - characters: Beyoncé Knowles, Jay-Z, Justin Timberlake



If you are commenting about your own nomination to say what you would like done with characters or fandoms, please link your nominations page! It is the page you get by clicking ‘My Nominations’ from the tag set.

If you notice any problems with your approved nominations - mis-spellings, etc - feel free to comment on this post.
james_davis_nicoll: (Default)
Cast a 1980s New Teen Titans film....

river ganseys

19 Sep 2017 09:34 pm[personal profile] thistleingrey
thistleingrey: (Default)
Penelope Lister Hemingway, River Ganseys: Strikin' t'loop, Swaving, and Other Yorkshire Knitting Curiosities Revived from the Archives (2015): the thesis that winds through it is that ganseys (a set of ways for making pullovers) are an emanation of the Industrial Age, late C18 into the English Regency. It needed better editing than its tiny indie press could offer. Half is heavily personalized historical overview---whenever we meet her ancestors in the historical record, she points it out even if there's no family account to add to what records indicate; half is howto.

On p. 70, near the end of a chapter on nineteenth-century knitting in Yorkshire schools, prisons, and homes, Hemingway implies that being taught to knit in school according to a curriculum is what led to holding the needles "British" style (I've always heard "English" and have no idea how Welsh, Scottish, Cornish, or indeed Manx knitters may have tended to position their hands). At home, she says, they'd probably continued the older manner of "holding needles under fists" and throwing the yarn "continental" style. Interesting, though because there aren't enough trappings of scholarly approach, I have no idea whether Hemingway was able/interested in scholarly due diligence....

She suggests that the cables aren't mirrored in ganseys because of an old fear of mirrored reflection; she describes green as the forbidden color on account of "creation/god" (p. 92), though I know it as fairy-color from medieval texts. (Or any number of other things, including Buchan's Witch Wood.) In any case, vanishingly few bird motifs on ganseys, either.

ObContemporaryRetake: Seascale and Ardmore fall into one basket; Rocquaine and Guernsey make another.
james_davis_nicoll: (Default)
It occurs to me I haven't looked at the Heavy Gear rules in a long time....
littlereview: (green little review)
On Children )

Tuesday mostly involved chores for me and half of them did not get done despite my best intentions. I have a bunch of chaos to deal with but on the scale of problems people I know are facing -- a couple in Florida STILL without power and several facing upheaval from the earthquake in Mexico and hurricane approaching Puerto Rico -- not worth detailing. In happy news, I got an invitation to the EX Raid on Thursday evening, but in unhappy news, it's right when Rosh Hashanah dinner should be ending so really lousy timing for American Jews.

We watched most of the Orioles game against the Red Sox, which was just as horrendous as it was the night before when the Orioles went into extra innings and proceeded to blow the game in humiliating style. That took up so much of the evening that we gave up on maybe starting any of the HBO shows that won Emmys and waited for Hillary Clinton on The Late Show (where Colbert annoyingly did not acknowledge why people were so upset about the Spicer stunt). Some photos of the art at Artsfest at Annmarie Gardens on Sunday:

17artf8
Artsfest )
zhelana: (Firefly - girls)
What have you just finished reading?

The Mathews Men: Seven Brothers and the War Against Hitler's U-boats by William Gerouxby - I don't understand why this book was called seven brothers, Mathews is a county, not a family, and the book was about a much larger segment of society than seven brothers. Nonetheless, it was a fascinating look at a mostly forgotten part of WWII, and men who had a higher mortality rate than every military branch except the marines.


What are you reading?

One Way or Another by Annette Laing - No progress this week

The Jews of Khazaria by Kevin Alan Brook - I wonder if part of the reason we have so little information about these people is that they competed with the Russians, and eventually, the Russians won? I'm only 28% of the way through this book, which is surprising because he never references the idea that he'll introduce more evidence after chapter 8 and I'm already on chapter 6.

2 Kings - There's a lot of murder and death going on. I think it's succession wars?

Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us by Daniel H. Pink - This book is more oriented towards businesses than I was expecting. It's still interesting, because it talks about ways to motivate people and stuff, but I am not the intended audience.

Dream Date

20 Sep 2017 12:03 am[personal profile] zhelana
zhelana: (original - aliens)
What would your dream date be like?

I would go to a beach and talk and then go on a dinner cruise and see dolphins jumping while we ate good food.

the rest )
thanekos: Yoshikage Kira as Kosaku Kawajiri, after the second arrow. (Default)
The revengers in it're the Roto.

The revenged upon're the Paznina.

Issue #2 opened on a flashback to the inciting incident.

It was a response. )
conuly: (Default)
I watch, but nothing moves today.

Looks like it's going to be overcast all week, and next week too. Well, fuck. I'm putting my lightbox back on.

*********


Superheroes for the Jewish New Year

There Never Was a Real Tulip Fever

The 11 sisters of Siervas are a rock band like 'nun' other

Scientists Once Dressed Frogs in Tiny Pants to Study Reproduction

In Alaska’s Far-Flung Villages, Happiness Is a Cake Mix

Octlantis is a just-discovered underwater city engineered by octopuses

How Two Lesbians Fought the Nazis With a Typewriter

Meet Nazo Dharejo: The toughest woman in Sindh

In a First for the Nation, Portland Police End Gang List to Improve Relations With Blacks and Latinos

The Rust Belt Needs Legal Immigration

That Awkward Moment When Your Twin Brother Is A U.S. Citizen At Birth, But You’re Not

Lawsuit targets searches of electronic devices at US border

New hope for limiting warming to 1.5 C

This Department Is the Last Hideout of Climate Change Believers in Donald Trump’s Government

Child care choices limited for those working outside 9-to-5

St. Louis sees third day of protests after officer's acquittal

ICE Detained This Trafficking Victim on Her 18th Birthday. Why?

Hurricane Maria is following Irma's path and getting stronger

The Sci-Fi Roots of the Far Right—From ‘Lucifer’s Hammer’ to Newt’s Moon Base to Donald’s Wall

Graceful menace: States take aim at non-native swans

New Mideast realities require support for Kurds

What is at stake in Iraqi Kurdish vote for independence?

Iraq says may use force if Kurdish referendum turns violent
conuly: (Default)
It took a lot of back and forth and emails getting lost, but I got her signed up!

And now she's claiming she didn't ever ask for this in the first place. Yeah, right. I get that she wants to spend time with her friends, but - dude, she spends hours with them every single day. She can take a day off and maybe make some new friends, something she frequently claims she wants.

***************


10 Badass Trees That Refuse To Die

The Making of the Modern American Recipe

Marilyn Monroe and the Potato Sack Dress, c.1951

DNA triggers shape-shifting in hydrogels, opening a new way to make 'soft robots'

The Spanish Royal Philanthropic Expedition to Bring Smallpox Vaccination to the New World and Asia in the 19th Century

Stopped at US border, Haitians find 'Mexican dream' instead

How Pants Went From Banned to Required in the Roman Empire

Just squeeze in—researchers discover when spaces are tight, nature loosens its laws

In Amish Country, the Future Is Calling

Children Used to Learn About Death and Damnation With Their ABCs

The Problem With Free Menstrual Pads

Tillerson says U.S. could stay in Paris climate accord

The Commuter Parking Benefit Is Seriously Hurting Cities

Dylann Roof requests new attorneys, declaring appeal team his biological enemies (Relevant quote: “The lawyer appointed to represent me at my federal trial was David Isaac Bruck, who is also Jewish. His ethnicity was a constant source of conflict even with my constant efforts to look past it.” All his lawyers deserve medals and a fruit basket. Maybe some booze. They earned it after putting up with him!)

US people of color still more likely to be exposed to pollution than white people

Breastfeeding Behind Bars: Do All Moms Deserve the Right?

When Does the Right to an Attorney Kick In?

Why Many Deaf Prisoners Can’t Call Home

Unbudgeted: How the opioid crisis is blowing a hole in small-town America's finances

See jerkface bacteria hiding in tumors and gobbling chemotherapy drugs

Myanmar Follows Global Pattern in How Ethnic Cleansing Begins

Rohingya Muslims being wiped off Myanmar's map

Three killed in stampede for aid near Rohingya refugee camp

Bangladesh warns Myanmar over border amid refugee crisis

The Ominous, Massive Military Exercises in Eastern Europe

Birthday

19 Sep 2017 08:38 pm[personal profile] me_ya_ri
me_ya_ri: white lotus flower on green water with reflection in the water (Default)
I turned 50 today. One one hand, that's kinda a wow, 50 years. Huh. On the other, it was just another day. Went to work, forgot my usb drive so I couldn't do any writing or farting around. Went out to dinner at Olive Garden with the hubby.

Just another day.

But I did get presents! The hubby bought me a fitting book (for sewing), a book on making your own bath bombs and a pattern I'd wanted. Plus Wonder Woman! *cheers wildly* My mom sent me this cool gift box with 50 gifts from the sea (shells and the like), 50 antique buttons from her and my grandmother, 50 jelly beans and $50 in one dollar bills to celebrate my 50 years of life. AND work gave me a lovely card with a $25 gift certificate for Barnes and Noble so that's good, too.

Not a bad birthday, overall. I guess once you hit 50 or so you just don't have that huge thrill with birthdays. I'm more excited about the writing workshop next month than this.

Goals for tomorrow include getting 3 overdue Now Available posts up, actually working on prepping a short story for submission (if that anthology is still open--have to check), writing (please, I about went crazy today for lack of it), exercises and that's about it. Maybe looking at the Wonder Woman extras. We'll see.

Off to bath and bed for me--I planned ahead and got Lush floating islands when we hit the mall on Sunday. *big grin*

Goodnight everyone!
ysabetwordsmith: Cartoon of me in Wordsmith persona (Default)
I got back out to pick up pears, so we cleaned half a bucket of them, and I put the bits in a crockpot to cook into pie filling.  :D

administration update

19 Sep 2017 11:22 pm[personal profile] egret posting in [community profile] cats
egret: cat (brideydots)
 I expanded the list of interests in the profile, because it was mostly a list of cat breeds. No pedigree required at [community profile] cats !

Although of course pedigreed cats are also celebrated!

I switched to a cat-themed style, although I am open to the idea of improving it if anyone good at styling communities is interested in donating their efforts. I like all your ideas so far and hope this community will grow and become a resource.

That said, I will share that my older cat's health crisis has reached a very sad point and I will be saying goodbye to her on Friday. So I may not be on here that much over the rest of the week and weekend. But I will be back -- I will have one cat (in icon) remaining! 

Trick or Treat

19 Sep 2017 11:34 pm[personal profile] alchemise
alchemise: Stargate: season 1 Daniel (Default)
I ALREADY HAVE 500 WORDS OF MY ToT STORY. I HAVE NO IDEA IF IT'S WORKING OR WHERE IT'S GOING. BUT SOON THERE WILL BE KISSING.


AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Origin.

19 Sep 2017 10:41 pm[personal profile] rickperry posting in [community profile] scans_daily
rickperry: (pic#wonderwoman)


Let's see if I can get this new origin straight...

Read more... )

heads-up

19 Sep 2017 09:56 pm[personal profile] yhlee posting in [community profile] hexarchate_rpg
yhlee: a clock face in blue and gold (hxx clock)
I'm going to be out of town September 27 to October 1 for work, probably without internet access, so enjoy the vacation. ;) I think we should probably make Move 9 another long one and pick up with Move 10 after I get back--we'll see how it goes.
elanya: Pensive pony (Default)
My hands are sore, I guess I'm paying for the progress I did over the weekend. I did two rows tonight and it was agony (one knit row, one purl), and they're still hurting despite drugs. My hip is bothering me too. Maybe it's time for aleve instead of ibuprofen.

Gee I can't wait until I'm actually old... -_-
pameladean: (Default)

This is very long and detailed, so I’m going to try to put in a cut tag.

All right, I can't get that to work, not if it was ever so. I'm sorry.

 

On Tuesday Raphael and I went to Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge. The forecast was for a sunny, almost windless day with a high of 87. The air quality was moderate. I complained about this the day before and Raphael asked if I'd prefer not to go. But Sherburne is actually a good place to go on a less than perfect day, because there's a seven-mile wildlife drive with stopping points for viewing whoever happens to be around; also a tiny oak savanna (1/10-mile loop) trail and a prairie trail with an oak grove in the middle with a bench (1/2-mile loop). And it's September; hiking season will be over at some point.

We got a late start but arrived with about five hours of daylight ahead of us. Sherburne is near Sand Dunes National Forest, and its soil is also sandy. It's a lightly rolling landscape full of marshes, pools, and prairie, broken by lines and clumps of trees. You drive through a short stretch of mature restored prairie to reach the actual wildlife drive. It was awash in blooming goldenrod and blue and white asters and rich brown grasses.

 We stopped at the Oak Savanna Trail and had a sandwich, read the list of plants presently blooming (six kinds of goldenrod, four kinds of white aster, two kinds of blue aster, rough blazing star, and boneset) and then walked out on the tiny boardwalk. We examined what looked like an abandoned bald eagle's nest through one of the spotting scopes provided, and then started looking at spreadwings (yet another kind of damselfly) in the tall grass that the boardwalk runs through.

 Here is an image of a spreadwing that one might see in Minnesota, though I don’t know if that’s what we did see.

 http://museum.unl.edu/research/entomology/Odonata/lere.html

 A flicker of motion in the distance caught my attention, and I looked up to see three sandhill cranes landing across the prairie near the road we'd come on. "A family," said Raphael, looking through the binoculars. "See the juvenile?" I did see the juvenile, which did not have all its red in yet but was almost as large as its parents. The cranes started walking through the grass, not unlike herons stalking through shallow water; occasionally they would bend their long necks down and poke around in the grass roots, and occasionally one of them would make a sharp dart and come up with food and swallow it.

It was hard to decide whether the cranes were more awesome through binoculars or just as tall shapes against the pale road and prairie, bending and straightening, wandering apart and together again. If you didn't look through binoculars you could also see meadowhawks darting around, the spreadwings rising to catch tiny insects and settling again to eat them, the unexpected wind shaking the oak leaves and the grass and the asters. From time to time a darner moved across the larger prairie, veering after prey or just powering along.

At last a truck came fairly fast along the road, raising a cloud of dust, and the cranes paused, considered, opened their huge wings and rose up, gawky but graceful, and flew away low over the grasses. We went back to looking at smaller wildlife

I was trying to spot a spreadwing through the binoculars when I saw what looked like an animated tangle of brown grass. I said to Raphael, “There’s some kind of mantis there!” and when Raphael expressed astonishment, I added, “It’s very stick-y,” which allowed Raphael to come up with the actual name: It was a stick insect. It took a few moments for me to describe its location and for Raphael to see it, and then I had trouble finding it again through the binoculars, but it was busy clambering around against the wind, so we did both get a good look at it. It was only the second stick insect I’d seen in Minnesota. The other was at Wild River State Park. That one was much larger and was rummaging around in a pile of leaves at the edge of the parking lot. This one was fascinating because its camouflage was so great, and yet it did have to move around, so you could differentiate it from the grass if you worked at it.

We’d arrived in the deep of the afternoon when smaller birds are quiet. We heard a few goldfinches murmuring, and a phoebe carrying on, and a chickadee. We left the boardwalk, admiring the asters waving in the non-foreseen but welcome breeze, and walked around the oak savanna loop. The little oak saplings tangled among the other shrubbery were already starting to turn red. White asters poked their flowerheads through leaves belonging to other plants, to startling effect. Autumn meadowhawks floated and hovered and darted, snatching up gnats from the clouds around them. We had seen a monarch butterfly in the asters while we were eating our lunch, and also a dark-phase swallowtail wandering over the grass; now we saw a painted lady butterfly.

We made an attempt to leave, but a darner landed on a drooping dead branch of an oak tree right in front of the car. The sun was behind it and we couldn’t get a good look without tramping heedlessly into the prairie, so we didn’t, but its silhouette was lovely against the brilliant sky.

 We drove on, past tall browning and reddening grasses, clumps of goldenrod, clouds of asters. Darners flew up from the sides of the road and zoomed away. We found at the turning that the refuge had reversed the direction of the wildlife drive since we were there last, which was momentarily confusing; but we found our way, and stopped at the Prairie Trail. I pointed out some thoroughly spent plants of spotted horsemint. We’d seen it in bloom, if you can call it that, at William O’Brien. It’s a very weird-looking plant. Here’s a photo:

 https://www.minnesotawildflowers.info/flower/spotted-horsemint

 This observation continued my inability to accurately provide the names of things; I’d just called it horsemint and Raphael reminded me that that particular weird plant was spotted horsemint. There are other horsemints, but they don’t look so strange. As we stood looking over the rise and fall of the little prairie, with folds of alder and sumac, and lines and whorls of different grasses and goldenrod, all truly starred with the blue and white asters, I said that I loved how big the sky was at Sherburne. Raphael noted that it was a slate-blue just now; we assumed that was the haze of the wildfire smoke all the way from the west coast, a somber reminder of far too many things.

 We took the grassy path, startling small grasshoppers out of our way and stirring up meadowhawks from the tall plants and shrubs. We saw a monarch; we saw a painted lady. Passing through a little grove of young alders, on almost every tip of the dead trees intermingled with the living there was a meadowhawk perched. They swept upwards, snatched a gnat or fly, landed to eat again. Raphael showed me how to identify a female autumn meadowhawk: they have a definite bulge just below the thorax, which was easy to see against the sky. Darners zipped past from time to time. If it was a green darner we could usually tell even from just a glance. The others were mosaic darners, but harder to identify in passing.

 I think it was as we approached the oak grove that we started seriously trying to identify the grasses. We’d known big bluestem, aka turkey-tail, for years. After seeing it labelled repeatedly here and there, I could pick out the charming clumps of little bluestem, just knee-high, with their pale fluffy flowers lined up and catching the light. We’d looked at an informational sign at the trailhead, but its drawings of Indian grass and switch grass didn’t look right. Raphael pulled up the photo of the sign about grasses at the visitor center at Wild River, which had struck both of us at the time as much more informative than other attempts to depict native grasses; and we could suddenly identify Indian grass after all. It has a long, narrow rich brown seed head with varying degrees of spikiness; some are quite streamlined and others are tufty and look as if they need combing. And we felt more confident about the switch grass with its airy spreading seed heads.

 Raphael pointed out a beetle on the path, maybe a Virginia leatherwing, and then realized that it looked like a moth. A little research when we reached the oak grove and sat down showed that it was a net-winged beetle, and the entry even mentioned that it looked quite a bit like a leatherwing.

 The bench we were sitting on was made from boards of recycled plastic. At some point Raphael had had enough sitting and went ahead a little way just to see what was there. I’d noticed when I sat down that there were verses from the Bible printed on the back of the bench in some kind of marker. On the left was the passage from Matthew that begins, “Come unto me you who are weary and heavy-laden,” and on the right the passage from John that begins, “For God so loved the world.” These might have been written in different hands. But the passage in the middle was definitely in a different hand, and began, “We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high powered blotter acid, a salt shaker half full of cocaine.” The ending of the passage was a bit smeared and I couldn’t read all of it, but at the bottom the name “hunter s. thompson” was clear enough. I followed Raphael and relayed the beginning of the passage. “Hunter s. thompson!” said Raphael, going back to the bench with me. “It’s from <i>Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas</i>.” Raphael looked this up too, and showed me the unsmeared passage on the cellphone.

 Giggling a bit, we went on our way. We were now well around the loop and into the straight stretch back to the car. From the other side I’d pointed out a lovely layering of grasses, goldenrod, a narrow cleft of willow scrub, and a candy-red line of sumac. Now we came to the sumac from the other side. On the path in front of us was a butterfly. “What is that?” said Raphael. “It’s a Red Admiral,” I said confidently, but it wasn’t. It was another Painted Lady. Raphael consolingly told me that they were both Vanessa, very closely related, but the Red Admiral is very common in Minnesota and I was chagrined that I’d misidentified something else as that.

 We came to a little stretch of boardwalk over a marshy area. On a shrub was a shimmery amber-tinged odonate. I pointed it out to Raphael. It turned out to be another autumn meadowhawk, though it looked as if it ought to be an Eastern Amberwing, or at least a Band-Winged Meadowhawk. It had perched on a bit of red-stemmed dogwood, just to be extra-cooperative. We went on through the cattails and willow, past a minute patch of open water and up onto the grassy path again. Raphael pointed out that where the path climbed back out of the tiny marsh there was a nice view over the rest of the open water and the winding marsh with more willow, and cattails, and a shrub we should have known but didn’t. (I briefly misidentified it as more red-stemmed dogwood, because it was my day to misidentify everything; but it had deep purple stems and leaves just starting to turn reddish.)

 On our right for the end of our walk was the brilliant sumac and the cleft of alder saplings, all their leaves fluttering and twinkling in the wind and sunlight; on the left a long slope of prairie grasses interrupted by goldenrod and asters. More darners sailed by. The sky had lost its smoky cast and was a fine late-summer deep blue. We came back to the car and Raphael began to drive away, but I exclaimed at the sight of a big clump of stiff goldenrod covered with pollinators. We didn’t get out, but looked our fill from the car. Big bumblebees, a Ctenucha moth, beetles, ambush bugs. Once Raphael started reading it, I had to edit this entry to correct the Ctenucha moth's name and type, so have another link, since they are very handsome:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ctenucha_virginica
 
There’s one more trail you can actually walk along, near the end of the wildlife drive, but there was a sign at the beginning saying that it was flooded. Before that we drove past long stretches of marsh, open water, and rolling prairie, all patched with clumps of trees. From time to time there would be a wider spot in the road, sometimes a formal space big enough for three or four cars, with a bench or two, or a platform over a low spot with spotting scopes and some informational signs about the wildlife; others just a metal platform with railings, where you could stand and look over the water. We tentatively identified the spot where we’d once common moorhens, which are not so common that we weren’t deeply excited. We’ve also seen muskrats and various ducks in these locations, and once there was a gigantic cloud of mosaic darners all brown and yellow – I seem to recall that some of them were lance-tipped darners, but I may be wrong. This time we heard water birds making a ruckus, but couldn’t see them. Darners came by in about the density that they had been all the while. Over one platform we saw what turned out to be a northern harrier; these guys have an amazing acrobatic flight, and they’re reddish on the underside and bluish on the back. I excitedly called this one a kestrel, which would be smaller and have the colors reversed: bluish on the underside and red on the back. We also very clearly saw a nighthawk with its white wing bars, though the sun was still up.

 We also saw some cedar waxwings fly-catching from a tree with a dead top, and heard a yellow warbler.

 At last we came to a stretch of water, islands, and snags so large that it had two separate viewing-spots. From the first we saw several groups of large white birds. I thought the first were swans, but they were white pelicans. There were also some swans, however. We came finally around a curve of the gravel road to an observation station in a little oak grove, overlooking the far side of this large sheet of water. This is where most of the dead trees are, and here, to our delight, we saw as we’ve seen before several times a very large number of cormorants. The sun was setting by then, off to our right. The sky was pink and the water reflected it. Many cormorants were roosting already, but some were still coming out of the water; they would land on a branch, sometimes settling and sometimes glancing off several different trees before finding one that suited them, or one in which the other cormorants accepted them. It was hard to be sure. Then they would spread their wings out to dry, looking as if they were practicing to be bats for Halloween.

 We found the swans and pelicans we’d seen from the other viewing station, though it was getting pretty dark by then. Cormorants still flew up into the trees and spread their wings. Through binoculars you could see the ones that had folded their wings now preening their breast feathers. Some of them had pale necks and brown fronts rather than being entirely black. I mentioned this to Raphael, who looked it up in Sibley and confirmed that those were juvenile cormorants.

 It was getting quite dark by then and the mosquitoes were starting to think about biting us in earnest. We drove past two more pools; beside one two groups of people we’d seen pass earlier, a third car I didn’t recognize from before, and a man using a wheelchair were standing and gesticulating. We pulled up and got out. The water and trees were lovely in the twilight, but we didn’t see any wildlife. The solitary man went away in his wheelchair, the unfamiliar car left, and we followed, watching the varied texture of the grass and flowers fade away into the dark.

 

Pamela

89F - 66F : Sunny

19 Sep 2017 10:40 pm[personal profile] zhelana
zhelana: (potter - look)
Today was not a very good day. I had a horrible nightmare last night, and woke up exhausted. I only stayed up for 30 minutes before deciding to go back to sleep. Then I woke up 2.5 hours later to the alarm. It was time to take the cats to the vet. I trapped them, and shoved them in carriers, which they were very vocal about expressing their hatred of. We drove to PetSmart for our 3:00 appointment. When I left, at 4:30, without having been seen, the 2:00 appointment was still there and hadn't been seen either. I had places to be so I set a new appointment, and left. Now I have to traumatize the cats again, next week, and I'm sure when I put them in carriers they think they're going to get dumped back at the pound because that happened to them several times before we got them, and more than half the times of their lives they've been in a pet carrier they've either ended up at the pound, or a new home. So I'm sure they're scared shitless of this whole process. Of course, I would never get rid of my kitties, but they don't know that.

So anyway, then I went to meet Klepto at Starbucks. I wrote about 500 words in an hour and a half, and then decided to come home and take a nap because my brain was not cooperating. I slept for about 2 hours, then woke up and read the internet for a bit.

days 9-12 on Celexa

19 Sep 2017 10:21 pm[personal profile] edenfalling
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
Weird food issues seem to be gone for good. \o/

My sleep schedule hasn't settled, though, which is probably partly my fault for not setting a consistent bedtime and thus not having a roughly consistent getting-up time. Since I take the pills with breakfast, this also introduces several hours of variability into that schedule.

Anyway, I was crushingly exhausted in the afternoons on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, which resulted in two-hour naps on the latter two days. I was not similarly tired today, and I wonder if that's because I tend to drink tea (and thus get a dose of caffeine) much earlier in the day on work days. But I do the same on Saturdays -- albeit one hour later -- so... a mystery!

Additionally, last night I could not sleep for shit. I used to have mild insomnia as a child and teenager -- the kind where you just can't make your brain shut off no matter how tired you are -- but I had some meditative techniques that mostly worked and that had largely stopped being an issue by my early twenties anyway. (By which I mean, if I had told myself stories when falling asleep as a teen, I would have been up all night, whereas for the past fifteen years such storytelling has been my most reliable way to make myself fall asleep.) Monday night felt like I was eighteen again and could not fall into more than a thin and restless slumber for love or money. It was very frustrating, and I hope that does not repeat tonight.

My mood has been neutral to mildly positive, and while my motivation and time management continue to be iffy and liable to vanish without warning, the world does not feel crushing and impossible, so there's that. I feel like I will get my list of stuff done, even if I don't get to any given task on the first day I schedule for an attempt. That is a noticeable change. :)

Move 9

19 Sep 2017 09:02 pm[personal profile] yhlee posting in [community profile] hexarchate_rpg
yhlee: a clock face in blue and gold (hxx clock)
Year 361, Month Three, Day Sixteen (Sunday), evening / day Seventeen (Monday), morning

On the station's carapace
The ammunition drone reports to whoever is listening that it has not exactly caught a spacegoing slime mold; rather, the slime mold has clogged up its legs and it's clinging rather precariously to the station's carapace. It is requesting, as forlornly as a nonsentient drone can, that somebody repair it. Until someone does something, it's...stuck.

On the station, during Mikodez and Iawa's science tour
Pavn, having noted Iawa's interest in the question of sonciousness, adds, "If you like, the researcher is probably busy at this hour, and he's in one of the classified labs, but I think that research assistant is currently off-shift. I could introduce you to her, if you like. She's always happy to talk about philosophical questions."

On the station, during Sasha, Yehan, and Alaric's science tour
Pavn looks quizzically at Yehan during the tour. "You remind me of some of the other visitors we've had recently," he says, in a friendly enough fashion. "You may have caught sight of their ship on the way in. Granted, phenotypes can be so misleading. Where did you say you were from?"

On the station, visitor's lounge, later
Sasha and Alaric are debating over carbon-fiber sculpture aesthetics when a ping comes in from the lokwor to indicate that Sasha's program has picked up more information on Remi. [Edit: sorry, hit post too soon.] He's not in his lab, but has signed out a spacesuit and has apparently gone for a walk outside the station. The lokwor has no idea why--it wasn't able to ferret out that information without Sasha's hacking guidance.

On the station, Rahal Gerae's office
Armed with an extra slate containing information about Rahal Gerae's known black market dealings, Sulen and Virmad head to Rahal Gerae's office. [Feel free to insert any preparations you may have wanted to make beforehand in a thread of its own.] The door is neatly labeled in a peculiarly Rahal style of calligraphy, recognizable despite the drift of time. There is a potted plant outside the door, its elongated flowers wilting.

More problematically, the door isn't locked. It appears to be stuck halfway open.

On the station, Nirai Alissa's dance studio
Before Ashari can say anything one way or the other to Alissa, a short man, dark-skinned, their shaven head covered with gold mesh-tattoos, stomps out of the office. He glares at Ashari. "I always knew you would be sucking up to any 'artists' who showed up on the station," he says. "Excuse me. I'm artist-designate Kwor, and I simply must demand that you authenticate yourself."

Alissa closes her eyes and looks pained. "Ah, yes," she says, "our resident artist-designate..." She leaves it at that.

[An artist-designate is basically the station's arts & entertainment coordinator, and in particular it means that Kwor is not an Andan but sort of secondary artist hired through the Andan, because a real Andan couldn't be arsed to come out to this posting.]

[Also note that Istradez is lurking in the background in this scene, if you need to borrow him.]

On the station, bubble tea stand 4:30 Monday morning
The bubble tea cafe is already open, or maybe always open, based on its sign. Mikodez and anyone else who decides to come here will notice several people sipping their bubble tea or coffee in a small area with seats and tables and decorative floating lanterns. There are many flavor shots offered, from mango to orange creme to root beer.

The barista frowns when she sees Mikodez. "Excuse me," she says. "Where are your parents?"



Character status
- Active characters as of last post: Sasha, Alaric, Yehan, Sulen, Virmad, Ashari, Mikodez, Iawa

- Currently inactive: Ankat, Kaliyan
Inactive players should feel free either to jump in wherever it feels logical, or to message me asking for an updated storyline so they can rejoin in a graceful fashion.

(no subject)

19 Sep 2017 10:03 pm[personal profile] the_rck
the_rck: (Default)
Cordelia's having some pain at the hinge of her jaw, so Scott and I will be taking her to the dentist tomorrow afternoon. She also says her teeth are cold sensitive. I suspect that she's clenching and/or grinding at night since that's generally what gives me that sort of trouble.

I like Scott being awake and energetic in the evenings, so that's a positive for working third shift. The negative is that I have to be super quiet all day so as not to risk waking him. I'm even hesitating to make tea because of the noise of the whistle.

My left elbow is hurting a lot. Even when I'm not using the arm or hand, it sometimes hurts enough to make me mutter. The doctor recommended cold packs, but those hurt worse while I'm applying them and don't make things better after, so I'm wondering if I should try heat. That will be a bit harder because Scott moved my rice pack, and I'll have to find it. The elbow is bad enough to wake me if I move wrong, but I discovered this morning that, if I lie on my right side with a pillow between my arm and my body, the damned thing doesn't hurt. It's not ideal because I'm still feeling too warm most of the time and because the rest of my body doesn't like staying in that position, but it's better than nothing.

I have pulled out my sling. It can be useful in reminding me not to try to pick things up with that hand, but it also seems to make things worse in the long term. There's something about the angle and about how close in to my body the sling is that just doesn't work right. Possibly, I need a sling that holds the arm about three inches out from my torso.

I think that I have a solution to the problem of my c-PAP headgear sliding off-- I loosened the straps just a tiny bit, and now the dratted thing stays in place better. It's counterintuitive, but I've had it that way for two or three nights now, and it is better.

Sleep is still not great. Halcion has an effect, but it's not what my doctor said it would do. The stuff is supposed to be very short acting and hit me like a ton of bricks. It doesn't make me more immediately sleepy, but I am tending to stay asleep longer before I wake up to pee. The downside of that is that I'm getting up for that too close to when I have to get up for the day to be able to sleep again. When that's ten minutes, it's not such a big deal. When it's more than an hour... That's enough to matter.
netgirl_y2k: (brand new day)
1. My little sister is visiting from the Republic of Ireland. She was in a pub in Dublin, and a couple of people asked her what she was doing in Ireland, and she said: "I'm British. I've come to take your land." And then she had to go to the airport and flee the country immediately. Well, no. I mean, yes but no. She's on loan back to a Scottish university to work on a project she doesn't want to be on, for a senior academic that she doesn't much like, for a grand total of zero pounds sterling (something holding references and publications over her head something something.) Sometimes I think about the difference between having a job and having a career, and at the moment I think it's that when I have to do things I don't want to do, at the behest of people I don't like, I at least get paid for it.

On her first day back, she was on a bus where somebody threw a bicycle at the driver, who stood up and chased him down the street. And because she hasn't been living in Glasgow for a couple of years she considered this 'weird' and 'frighting', and not 'a good reason to be late for work' or 'a tuesday'. So I've been loaning her my car, and as my car is held together by string and happy thoughts (that, of course, being the other big difference between having a career and a job) I'd warned her to keep an eye out for any of the engine management lights coming on. Anyway, cue later that night when she called frantic because there was a light on the dashboard that wouldn't go off. It was the handbrake light. She hadn't let the handbrake off, and it was the handbrake light. I love her.

2. I have had Freya - ridiculous mostly labrador, much loved bane of my existence, and reason for getting out of bed on mornings when I just want to go nope - for three years now, and to celebrate my mum made her a birthday cake. Liver & kidney, which, yes, is as disgusting as it sounds. It's worth noting that I have passed thirty-four birthdays on this green Earth, and my mother has yet resisted any temptation to make me a birthday cake.

I've actually been having some behaviour problems with Freya. Earlier in the summer she was attacked by two Vizslas (a couple of stitches in her eyelid, a bad fright, and me nearly coming to blows with the owner.) But ever since then she's been determined to get her revenge in first with almost every female dog she meets.

In almost all respects I think dogs are better than people, but you can't explain female solidarity or internalised misogyny to a dog; then again, you can't explain those to most people, so maybe we'll call that one a draw.

And she's still a total pet with people, so.

3. It occurred to me that I'd never actually made use of the Netflix free trial. I watched Below Her Mouth (porn, basically), a bunch of Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (the best hangover telly there has ever been or will be), two seasons of You Me Her (actually really good), a season and a half of iZombie (I thought the first season was awesome; during the second I thought that the joke that Liv basically becomes the person whose brain she'd eaten was wearing thin, and I didn't give a rat's ass about anything that was going on with Major.)

I tried the first episodes of Santa Clarita Diet (too gross) and One Day at a Time (too much laugh track) but nah.

But the bigger thing was that Netflix has half-assed its crackdown on vpns, so while you can't watch anything, you can see how much better the US version is, kind of killing any desire I had to shell out for the clearly inferior UK version.

4. I have been on this thing of writing for more exchanges in 2017, and honestly, I'm not sure this has been leading to my best work: Exhibit A: my contributions to [community profile] auexchange

Truth, Justice, and a Really Good Dental Plan (Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Superhero AU)

"What I'm saying is: do you think they're trying to Avengers Assemble us? Collecting New York's finest superheroes, and---"

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing Hitchcock and Scully.

"--'Kay," said Jake. "Never mind."


The Morning After the War Before (Person of Interest, Everybody Lives AU)

Sometimes Root wasn't sure that they hadn't lost the war after all, and that she wasn't living out some digital afterlife in the best simulation the Machine could come up with.
icon_uk: (Default)
And Jason 1.0

Saw some original art from this issue online and realisd I'd always meant to share the issue. It's a minor story in many ways, Doug Moench writing the first of a sort of two part story which isn't major or "important", but to share Don Newton pencils with Alfredo Alcala inks and Adrienne Roy colours, is always a pleasure.

371 00.jpg

First up, that cover )
jarandhel: (Kirin)
Reminder: Weekly #otherkin chat starting now, in irc://irc.mibbit.net/dreamhart! Webclient here: http://dreamhart.org/chat/
mrissa: (Default)

Originally published at Novel Gazing Redux. You can comment here or there.

Review copy provided by Haikasoru Books.

This is one of the weirdest books I’ve read in a long time. The Bamboo, the creatures in it, are described as vampires, but they’re really more grass monsters who eat human carrion. They’re described as scary, but I’m not particularly scared by them so much as baffled by their strange, secretive, hierarchical laws. (For me, this is a feature, not a bug.) And on basically every other page, I’m left saying, “What? What?” (Again, a feature, not a bug.)

There are three sections varying widely in time, with different protagonists. Even within the sections, the timeline swings wildly, spending pages on a conversation translated lovingly to attempt to show what level of formality the Japanese conversation used (oh, a losing battle) and then going over forty years in a single line. I would say that it’s full of plot twists, but that sounds very linear, very straightforward, as though things are following one upon another with logic–it is full of plot twists the way the dream you are trying to remember from two nights ago is full of plot twists. “And then you what? Why? Okay.”

And then the grass monster reached the end of their life and exploded into flowers. What? Okay. No, different section, they ate someone who they thought was abusing a prostitute. What? Okay. If that’s not okay with you, you should probably move along, because that’s what there is here, a whole lot of angst and monsters and randomness, and some of you are saying, gosh, no thanks, and some of you are saying, sign me on up.

Please consider using our link to buy A Small Charred Face from Amazon.

mrissa: (Default)

Originally published at Novel Gazing Redux. You can comment here or there.

Alex Alice, Castle in the Stars Book One: The Space Race of 1869. Discussed elsewhere.

Hassan Blasim, ed., Iraq+100 Discussed elsewhere.

Chaz Brenchley, Dust-Up at the Crater School Chapter 7. Kindle. Plotty, moving forward, full of dust storms and schoolgirl antics, as one would expect for this project.

Marie Brennan, Maps to Nowhere. Discussed elsewhere.

George Eliot, Middlemarch. Kindle. And this is what happened to my early September. Middlemarch is surprising; it is delightful. It is one of the longest classics of English literature, and it is a joy to read. I kept thinking that I would want to leaven it with bits of something else, go off and take a break and read something in the middle of it. I didn’t. (I mean, I always have a book of short pieces going. But other than that.) While I was reading Middlemarch, I kept wanting to read Middlemarch, and when I was done reading it I wanted more of it. The only thing of its size that’s at all comparable in my attachment to it is John Sayles’s A Moment in the Sun, and that does not have the passionate following Middlemarch has–wherever I mentioned it I found that friends and strangers were ready to share my delight in this wandering intense chatty behemoth of a book. I’m discussing it with a friend who’s reading it with me. I’m not sure I have a lot to add for the general audience except to say, it’s funny, it’s intense, it’s gigantic emotionally as well as literally, it makes me want to read more George Eliot, it makes me want to read its giant self all over again. It is in some ways exactly what you would expect and in other ways nothing like what you’d expect. It is thoroughly itself. And oh, I love her, I love George Eliot so very much. I’m glad I read such a quotable thing when I was past the age of needing to strip-mine books for epigraphs. I can do that later. I’m glad I could just relax in and read this first time.

Masha Gessen, Words Will Break Cement: The Passion of Pussy Riot. I enjoyed another of Gessen’s books and picked this up because the library had it, more or less on a whim. And it gave me a perspective on modern Russia that nothing else has, particularly on its criminal justice system. What the prison system is doing there, what trials are like, what sorts of things are prioritized, what and who counts, what and who does not. Enraging, illuminating. There are some things Gessen just takes for granted you will know about feminist art theory and punk, but I think it may still be interesting if you don’t? but even better if you do. Also, if you have a very strong high culture/low culture divide, read this book and have that nonsense knocked out of you. Not that I have an opinion about that.

Ben Hatke, Mighty Jack and the Goblin King. Discussed elsewhere.

Steve Inskeep, Jacksonland: President Andrew Jackson, Cherokee Chief John Ross, and a Great American Land Grab. This is very much in the popular history category: short chapters, many things explained on a fairly straightforward level. Not a lot of delving deep into the obscure corners. However, Inskeep does a fairly good job of switching back and forth between the lens of the European settlers turned recent Americans and the lens of the cultures of the Choctaw, Chickasaw, Creek, Seminole, and especially Cherokee people in the region he was discussing. One of the things that this particularly underscored for me is how quickly the European/American settlers viewed the land as traditionally theirs in that part of the south: the beginning of the Cherokee Trail of Tears was twenty-three years before the US Civil War. Even the earliest of the resettlements was only thirty years before. So in some parts of the Deep South, there were indeed plantations that had been going for generations–but in large, large swaths of it, the land they were fighting so hard for was land they had just taken from its previous owners basically five minutes ago. References to traditional way of life in that context are basically like talking about GameBoys and other hand-held gaming devices as our traditional way of life: they are bullshit. I think the way we are taught this period of history in American schooling encourages us not to think of that. I will want to read much deeper works on Andrew Jackson’s presidency. In this case I will say: Inskeep is not trying to paint him as a great guy or not a racist…and I still think he ends up going too easy on him. But it’s a good starter work for this period, I think.

Ursula K. LeGuin, The Language of the Night. Reread. The last time I read this was before I was keeping a book log, which means also before I was selling short stories regularly. I was a lot less prone to argue with assertions about fantasy not needing to compromise then. (Oh nonsense, of course it does.) But one of the things that makes Ursula LeGuin a great writer is that she argues with her past self, too. She evolves. She evolves in the course of this collection. And I think she’d be far happier with people thinking and arguing than uncritically absorbing anyway.

Rebecca Mead, My Life in Middlemarch. So…I didn’t mean to go straight from Middlemarch to a book about it, but the other thing I had from the library, I bounced off, and…I wasn’t ready to be done. This is Mead’s memoir entangled with a bit of biography of Eliot. There are places where Mead is bafflingly obtuse (some areas of gender politics and the writing of sexuality, notably, but also the difference between a character who is fully human and a character who is generally sympathetic), but in general it is short and rattles along satisfyingly and tells me things I want to know about George Eliot without telling me too many things I actively didn’t want to know about Rebecca Mead.

A. Merc Rustad, So You Want to Be a Robot. This is a solid and heart-wrenching collection. It’s impossible to pick one true favorite because there are so many good choices. Definitely highly recommended, Merc hits it out of the park here. And they’re just getting started.

Gerald Vizenor, Bearheart: The Heirship Chronicles. This is when Vizenor was just getting started, and gosh I’m glad I didn’t get started with his early work, because…why, oh why, did so many men of the seventies–particularly men who wanted to claim they were ecologically minded without doing much about it–pick the same direction for their demonstrations of their own sexual daring? Well, Vizenor grew out of it. But it’s a one of those. The person who wrote the afterword was sure that objections to it would be because people thought Indians couldn’t be like that! and no, it’s that it’s trite, it’s exactly the kind of trite sexual objectification of women–especially Indian women–that you’d expect from “seventies dude trying to be sexually shocking.” He got better. I’m glad.

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