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Friday, February 25, 2005

select * from blogfriends 

A technical query for people currently using Blogger: under the new commenting system, if you're not using the pop-up window, do new comments not show up until you republish your blog?

...Wait, I don't think that describes any of you but me. ^_^;; Purin and Liminal, did your comments on my last two posts show up right away, or not until I published that last entry about my car? I tried refreshing the page, but no dice until I republished.





When Wet Cells Dry Up 

My car battery died today. On my lunch break. On the *end* of my lunch break. So I had to call my dad for help and take an extra hour and a half off of work to get her to a repair shop and get a new battery in. At least it's not my alternator.

I was going to move out, but now I think I'm going to have to save money for a new car. Anyone know any good models that aren't obscenely expensive? If I'm going to buy a new car, I want it to be a car that I can have for like 10 years and also won't crumple in dismay when large other cars come smashing into it. Or look at it crosswise.

Also, black or silver? ^_^





Thursday, February 24, 2005

You have not seen the last of me, pants! 

Ever have one of those days where you *can't wait* to take off your pants?

Maybe this is a girl thing. Maybe this is a Larry thing. Maybe I just hate pants sometimes. Anything with waistbands, really.

And yes, I'm wearing my bathrobe right now. XD





Monday, February 21, 2005

Best Spam Ever 

Actual spam from my spambox:

From: Jesus
Subj: Fw:Make your sickness dissapear..cheaper!!

Makes you wonder...does spam actually contain the quintessence of all human thought?





Sunday, February 20, 2005

Hands down 

Although I love physical bookstores like children love candy shops, I have to admit that the customer reviews at Amazon.com sometimes are entertaining enough to make up for not being able to touch the books.

I idly started browsing for more occult summoning books today, as I'm going to need to kick that area of my novel into high gear in the second half. I'm looking for a little more variety than I get in my beloved medieval necromancer's manual.

Amazon recommendations, which does its best to try to make some sense of my eclectic purchases, recommended "The Grimoire of Armadel" by S. L. MacGregor Mathers, one of those turn-of-the-20th-century occultists involved in the creation of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. You may or may not recognize this organization from such features as "Aleister Crowley," who Mathers seemed to have had a falling out with. (Did *anyone* stay friends with Crowley?!)

As with any book having to do with anything even marginally occult or pagan, the top customer reviewer felt the need to enter the standard "This is not Satanism" disclaimer. He had a very interesting perspective on the disclaimer, though...

From the review:

"This IS NOT satanism! Mathers was not a satanist nor am I. This actually blows away satanism hands down."

Thanks, guy. I'm sure all the Christians are feeling loads better now. *giggling*

The main reason why I find this reassurance so full of irony, and peculiarly honest at the same time, is that a lot of the summonses invoke (good) Christian powers, which if one is operating within a Christian framework, means they're going to be way cooler and more full of pwnage than the evil powers anyway.

The manner in which the rituals are conducted, however, is greatly heretical, both in ends and means. I come back to the idea of magic defined as "religion used for selfish ends." The most fascinating part for me is how magical rites so resemble prayer and religious ritual (in this case, exorcisms). There's a somewhat subtle distinction in the mindset of priests and magicians though...even if both acknowledge that they work only according to the will of God (as Mathers does) the magician still seems to feel more in control, and more entitled, to mess about with sacred and demonic powers so long as God is on his side.

Also, I really want to go see Constantine. XD





Monday, February 14, 2005

Snaaaaake! 

I was going to post about how Valentine's Day can't be all bad since Chaucer invented it, but I was too lazy. So instead of translating some rime royal stanzas of Middle English verse from the "Parliament of Foules" for you, I'm going to share the love of Wal-Mart.

First I went out to dinner with Beta, both of us dressed in silly outfits (I wore my 'Sticks and stones may break my bones but whips and chains excite me' shirt). We got a waiter who remembered us from the day when he warned us that the Italian dressing was bad and we were impressed by his devotion to his craft. He must have been impressed by our. . .us because he bought us both our desserts. Either that or he was hoping for a big tip.

Then we decided to perambulate somewhere warm and open late at night, which was basically Wal-Mart. Just inside the door, I spied the lonely remnants of bulk Valentine's day presents. I gravitated immediately towards one of them:

TM: OMG! Snaaaake! *snatches down large fuzzy pink snake*
Beta: You and your snakes.
TM: *sensuously surprised* Ooo, so soft and fuzzy... *strokes snake*
B: It's got a little heart around its neck.
TM: Come on, pet my love snake!
B: . . .
TM: . . .
Both: HAHAHAHAHA!
TM: *proffers lovesnake* No, but seriously, touch it.
B: Dude, I don't want to touch your lovesnake.
TM: Tooooouch it.
B: Dude! Seriously!
TM: Come on, what does this say besides lovesnake? 'You're my main squeeze?'
B: Aww, that's cute.
TM: . . .
TM: Touch my fucking lovesnake, dude.

So Luci the Lovesnake is now the newest, softest, and pinkest member of my menagerie. She's so good. XD

<3 + ooooooo:>~ = LOVESNAKE!

Needless to say, the evening only got better when we tried to buy a tackle box (which make the best sewing kits).

TM: Really, whose tackle is this big?
B: Do you think you need the magnum?
TM: I dunno if that's big enough for all my junk.
B: Yeah, you need one that's deeper. And longer.
TM: Lovesnaaaake!

So our evening went. Wal-Mart is the best place to be impure. They can censor the music, but I'll always be X-rated. ^_^





Saturday, February 12, 2005

I need you to do better 

I just finished "The Return of Nightfall" which is a long-awaited sequel to the book "Legend of Nightfall." I still recommend the first book for quick, light, fun reading, but I'm not sure I can recommend the second one, due to my great sense of personal betrayal.

You know how, when you're reading a book, and it's not super good, sometimes it can be entirely saved by one character that's totally awesome? I was tantalized by the promise of an incredibly pretty exiled nobleman-turned-pirate captain who Nightfall, usually a shrewd observer of character, takes to be gay. He bases this observation on the fact not that the captain is incredibly pretty, which is refreshing, but on the fact that a light very like lust kindles in the pirate captain's eyes whenever he talks about another of Nightfall's personae, an attractive man the Captain captured once and was quite impressed with. Also, Nightfall figures that something must have made such a dashing and competant man flee (or be exiled) from a life as a noble son, and tells us that he knows other countries aren't always as accepting of "men coupling with men" etc.

So here I am reading the book and thinking to myself, "Awesome! Competant, intelligent gay pirate captain who's not a sexual predator!" But then, a few pages later, we get the captain's backstory, which is horrifically trite and also pretty much makes it clear to Nightfall that the Captain is straight.

Wtf, man. Was that so much to ask? I don't even know why the author changed her mind. Maybe it was because he had to crossdress as a woman later and she didn't want to be stereotypical or something? She never even explains later the lust and loneliness that was so striking in the captain's eyes, and provides us with absolutely no reason why Nightfall would have made such an uncharacteristic mistake in judgment. Also, bisexuality was never even considered. I guess it was important to the plot that the pirate captain had been exiled and was being hunted to the death for a crime he didn't commit, which being homosexual doesn't exactly fit.

But what makes it worse was that the pirate is being hunted for the old "my jealous brother's wife tried to seduce me and I nobly refused even though she was totally hot and then she said I raped her to get vengeance" trick. I thought that him being gay would add a fresh twist to that tired old plot, especially if he hadn't told his brother about his proclivities before the brother's wife tried to seduce him. What a perfect yet difficult way to prove your innocence! Especially if the character had a thing about coming out and, say, damned himself by running away from his brother's wrath because he didn't want to stain the family honor or something by admitting the one thing that could prove his innocence! Wow, this is making me want to write a better book of my own.

Anyway, the rest of the book was only mediocre, and this sort of tipped the scales on me not enjoying it. Maybe my expectations were too high, coming fresh from Eugenie. But, come on, when someone in the 19th century writes better gay fiction than a female-targeted fantasy author in 2005....





Saturday, February 05, 2005

Status Check 

Hey, where's my DaVinci Code?





Bring me another! 

So I just finished reading Count of Monte Cristo. So much for April 1! I think it actually may have taken me less time to read this than any one book in Stephenson's Baroque Cycle. Dumas is just so very...digestible.

The book is much more involved and convoluted than the movie version, and builds to a splendid climax, though the denoument leaves something to be desired. The Count is such an interesting psychological figure, so convinced that he is an avenging angel and beyond reproach, the agent of Providence. His brief period of questioning that certainty and then finding new resolve is dealt with much too hurridly, and the revenge he extracts on Danglars, his last revenge, is somehow unsatisfying, a very pale reflection of his former terrible justice. On the whole, I think that Dumas was almost overwhelmed by the powerful and fascinating character he had created in the Count, and somewhat at sea as to how to bring him back into the mortal realm. He lapses into a merrily-into-the-sunset sort of ending, which feels a bit like Dumas gave up and retreated to more manageable characters.

One character that I love dearly from the book, and who was absent in the movie, is Eugenie Danglars, who is as frankly lesbian as one can be in 19th century France. There is the most adorable cross-dressing scene at the end when she elopes with her girlfriend. While on the one hand her character is quite sterotyped (and one could argue, who is not in a Dumas novel?), it's refreshing to see such a sympathetic portrayal of homosexuality. Sure, Eugenie is forceful, man-hating, has "strong features," and is often described as masculine and even prone to crossdressing, where her girlfriend is a timid, blonde, feminine thing--but Eugenie is still clearly a young woman before she is Sapphic, with a woman's troubles, and Dumas is even careful to note that she's very pretty and doesn't lack for male suitors in the society.

I wonder if Dumas was so kind to the girls precisely because they *were* girls--I mean, if Albert Morcerf and Franz D'Epinay had concocted plans to sunder Albert's engagement and disguise Franz in a dress so they could elope to Italy together, I'm not sure Dumas would have been so terribly sympathetic and had as much cheeky fun as he did with Eugenie and her girl. Maybe it all goes back to the Sedgwick idea of the homosocial, and that in pre-modern times only male homosexuality was threatening because only between men did homosexual relationships threaten anything like power structure, etc. I can see I have to do more research on views on lesbianism in antiquity to round out my knowledge. Also interesting is that the Victorians cut a lot of Eugenie's parts from their translations. Who's surprised?

I got my hair cut again today, and while it turned out a little spikier and a little less Audrey Hepburn than I wanted, it's not bad.

I leave you with a strangely pertinent Eugenie Danglars episode that may perhaps help explain my affection for her character:

'Don't I look a hundred times better like this?' Eugenie asked, smoothing down the few curls left on her now entirely masculine haircut. 'Don't you think I'm more beautiful as I am?'


Indeed you are, Eugenie.





Tuesday, February 01, 2005

i feel bad 

Something's wrong with Larry, so I wrote this poem about oatmeal.

Oatmeal

i will fax you some oatmeal
because you're far away
and i've got plenty:
gumming up my knees
clogging my heart
sticking to my skull
as i tilt listlessly
one side
the other

oatmeal

i will take its burning,
the clinging and sticking,
gumming and clogging,
impenetrable

and turn it to electrons
marching in tiny phalanx
to limpidly reassemble
for your inspection
my image in oats

--
I have to thank my brother for the conversation that inspired this poem. He lacked butter, and I offered to fax him some, an offer he had the great good sense to refuse. The image remained, but since I'd already written a poem about the elemental properties of butter, I decided oatmeal would work nicely.





 

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