In Erratis Veritas

The truth is in the typos.

Let’s just take it off the docket.

Posted on | December 4, 2008 | No Comments

Okay, Pushing Daisies, you’re very cute and quirky, but an extended joke about bulimia is neither cute nor quirky, it is offensive and in poor taste.

Also, Chuck is kind of really annoying. Cute, but annoying. >_< Olive, on the other hand, is amazing, as is Emerson Cod. And Lee Pace’s facial expressions are beautiful.

Category: Uncategorized

A little bit of hagiography

Posted on | December 4, 2008 | No Comments

Today is December 4, the Feast Day of St. Barbara! Only she’s not a saint anymore; the Catholic church kicked her out of the canon in the late sixties, because they’re pretty sure she was made up. She is the patron saint of artillerymen, engineers, blacksmiths, and all people who work with explosives; she is associated with lightning and is often represented by a tower with three windows- she had the third window put in to represent the Trinity, and was martyred when her father found out about her Christianity. The lightning comes from the bolt that struck down her father as he was returning home after her death- because, you know, the benevolent and loving Christian God didn’t mind if his most devout followers were tortured to death, as long as He got the chance to smite someone for it afterwards. (Deities with the emotional maturity of ten year olds: film at eleven.)

She’s also one of the three virgin martyrs at the core of the Fourteen Holy Helpers. The church my family usually visits for Christmas Eve is pretty old school- not conservative, mind you, just old school- and they celebrated the Feast Days of various saints; I went to mass on St. Blaise’s Day, and got my throat blessed. I wonder if they did anything special today.

Someone posted a link to The Ballad of St. Barbara by G.K. Chesterton on one of the comment threads in Making Light; I do love me some Chesterton, and I love me some old school martyrs, and when I wandered over to Wikipedia, it turned out that today was her feast day! A pretty little coincidence, if you believe in coincidences, and so “The Ballad of St. Barbara” is your content for the day. Take the link for a look at the whole poem, but have an excerpt:

The touch and the tornado; all our guns give tongue together,
St Barbara for the gunnery and God defend the right,
They are stopped and gapped and battered as we blast away the weather,
Building window upon window to our lady of the light.

For the light is come on Liberty, her foes are falling, falling,
They are reeling, they are running, as the shameful years have run,
She is risen for all the humble, she has heard the conquered calling,
St Barbara of the Gunners, with her hand upon the gun.

They are burst asunder in the midst that eat of their own flatteries,
Whose lip is curled to order as its barbered hair is curled…
Blast of the beauty of sudden death, St Barbara of the batteries!
That blow the new white window in the wall of all the world.

Chesterton is occasionally guilty of clunky meter to fit his rhymes, but I find his hewing to traditional rhyming verse to be endearing despite the some-time awkwardness. Regardless of his metrical skill (which is considerable when you examine the sheer size and length of his works- you can forgive a few clunkers when his output is so vast), I’m in love with his religious imagery- this is transcendentalism with blood and guts and explosions, and it’s beautiful and shameless in its violence.

Category: 2008, december, poem

Protected: sunshine

Posted on | December 4, 2008 | Enter your password to view comments

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Category: 2008, december

Pushing Daisies

Posted on | December 3, 2008 | No Comments

Ten minutes in, and the only way to describe my reaction is one. Gigantic. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

Also, Kristen Chernowith is tiny. Or Lee Pace is a giant, I don’t know.

GIGANTIC WTF WTF WTF. Shit, why did this show get cancelled? WTF. WWWWWTTTTTTTFFFFFFFF.

:D

D:

:D

Category: TV

(untitled)

Posted on | December 3, 2008 | No Comments

I keep thinking, “You know, self, just because our goal is 31 content posts in December doesn’t mean we can’t post more than 31 times, or that we can’t post content-less things.” To which I then reply, “Y’know, self, you’re right. We should post something pointless but vaguely interesting about stuff what’s been going on around here.” And then I open up the post window and stare at it for a while before getting distracted by other things.

I wish I had a better response reflex- there are a lot of discussions on LJ and the sites I blogstalk that I’d probably really enjoy getting involved in. But I never do; I have a very weak comment reflex when I encounter something interesting. The closest I’ve gotten to any sort of real discourse on the internet is a few brief threads on fandomsecrets, and those don’t really count since most of them were anonymous and one of them was just an extended conversation with Gina.

This goes for fanfic as well; even if I read something I utterly love, chances are very slim that I’ll comment on it. This is unfortunate and mildly hypocritical, given how much I crave feedback on my own writing- I’m like a stereotypical pregnant woman with pickles, guys, it’s pretty pathetic. On the other hand, there’s not necessarily any sort of correlation between comments on work given and comments on work received once you get past the initial bump of comments received as a result of publicizing yourself to new people through comments given. (I swear that sentence made sense.)

My silence is mostly driven by self consciousness, of course; it’s the same reason I never got into online roleplaying. I’m terrified of making a fool of myself on the internet (which is ridiculous, I know). Of course, that sentiment does beg the question of why I’ve been writing in this blog for six and a half years, because I’ve certainly made a fool of myself here more than a thousand times over. (1,790 times, in fact.) All I can really say to that is anonymity is a blessed thing; until fairly recently, no one I knew read this thing on a regular basis. There was a spike in readership back when I was in Naruto fandom (so to speak; I wrote a few stories, but never participated in anything beyond that), but that’s since died off. One of my oft-returned to titles was “Screaming in the Dark,” because I essentially used this as a rant-space; I do tend to censor myself more now that I keep better track of my tracking statistics- this sometimes makes going through my archives a little painful.

Perhaps I’ll make more of an effort to be a part of the online communities I lurk in; I imagine it would be fun.

Category: Uncategorized

Protected: in every pore

Posted on | December 2, 2008 | Enter your password to view comments

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Category: 2008, december, districtmancy AU, toggle

Saddest songs to play

Posted on | December 2, 2008 | No Comments

I made 31 posts in the month of November. That’s more posts in a month than I’ve managed since January ‘05, when I put up the results of the first Impossible December Project.

I kind of want to do another December Project, except I know the only reason I made it to 30 pieces of writing in 2004 was my immersion in Naruto fandom at the time; in 2005, I only managed 23 days, and a larger portion of those were original writings, not fannish ones.

Still. I feel like I should do something, if only to make up for my spectacular failure at Nano this year. So I will- I’ll post something every day, whether it’s a few sentences of something I’m in the middle of, a song I like, or a poem I found. December 2008: The Not-So Impossible Project.

As always, feel free to request something- and if I should make any locked posts, the password is the title of the post.

And so, for December 1, a (very) little bit of Assassin’s Creed, from that bit I started months ago and then lost my notes to. Hopefully I’ll find them again so I can finish it, someday.
—————————————————————————–

Jerusalem quieted at sunset. Merchant stands closed for the night and people returned to their homes. The early stars in the twilight sky were pale reflections of the lamps that flickered alight in windows and doors. Alta’ir moved from rooftop to rooftop, keeping the spires of the cathedral in his view. His companion followed him at a more sedate pace, climbing ladders where Alta’ir simply threw himself into the sky.

Eventually, he came to a stop, perched on the roof of a building beside the cathedral. Malik stepped from ladder to rooftop; straight vertical climbs were impossible for him now, but he could balance himself well enough for a ladder.

Alta’ir took the moment’s pause while they both caught their breath to remark on the strange proponderance of ladders newly placed in Jerusalem.

Malik grinned, a quick flash of teeth in the twilight. “How else should I teach the novices you send me to learn the layout of my city? You expect me to train them and ascertain their loyalty to you and the Brotherhood, but you never specified how. If I should take a little something for myself while doing you a favor, what of it?”

Alta’ir shook his head, quietly pleased at Malik’s good humor. “Nothing. They’re your men to train as you see fit. I only question the subtlety of sending novices parading about Jerusalem with ladders on their backs.”

“And what a strange world it would be if I were to be taking lessons on going unnoticed from you- fortunately, in this, as in most things, you have no idea what you are talking about. A man with a ladder is as good as invisible. Clearly he is being industrious and serving the greater good, and with the city’s defenses as they are, he can always have an excuse should he be stopped and questioned.” Malik hooked his thumb into his sash and stood on the edge of the roof, framed against the stars. “This is my city,” he said, suddenly grave. “And I refuse to be hobbled here, of all places.”

Category: 2008, assassin's creed, december, game

…

Posted on | December 1, 2008 | No Comments

I could make a post about something other than TV, I guess, but all I’ve done apart from watching TV these last few days is play video games and look at pictures of pretty men in varying states of undress (isn’t it wonderful the sorts of things that pop up unexpectedly on google images?). And I haven’t even been playing video games very much.

The Middleman is, quite possibly, one of the most brilliantly hilarious shows I have ever seen. I can’t even properly describe how awesome it is- it’s like what you’d get if you crossed an unemployed liberal arts student with a Tom Stoppard play and a 1940s radio serial and then gave it lots of amphetamines. I don’t even know what I just described, there. But it’s awesome and clever and adorable, and all of the actors and characters are fantastic. If I ever stop being lazy (unlikely) I’ll be making icons of the first episode- the milk-drinking scene in particular.

I also just finished season 1 of Eureka; overall, it was quite tasty, even if I am getting tired of the romantic subplots. That’s okay, though, because as long as the Jack/Allison thing keeps getting pushed, Nathan will keep showing up to cause angst and be angsty, and Nathan is my favorite character at this point (due in large part, I will freely admit, to the fact that Ed Quinn is a dazzlingly pretty actor- I swear I am growing more and more shallow in my old age). I still love all the other characters too, though- Taggart and Jo and Fargo especially, as well as Jack and Zoe.

I imagine I’ll watch through season 2 and possibly up to the SPOILER in season 3- I don’t know if I’ll still be interested in watching after that, though. We’ll see; I’m fond of the show, but not rabid about it, and a lot of my fondness stems from certain characters and their relationships.

Category: Uncategorized

…

Posted on | November 30, 2008 | 4 Comments

It is mildly problematic that I can’t replay FFXII without thinking of Otakon.

And by “mildly problematic,” I mean “infuriating.”

Category: Uncategorized

…

Posted on | November 30, 2008 | No Comments

I have been woefully uncreative of late; gave up on Nano weeks ago, haven’t done any writing in about a million years. Maybe I’ll pick up the story again when I’m less off-kilter; maybe it’ll go the way of so many previous half-hearted attempts at NaNoWriMo, and I’ll never think of it again. I’ve still got bits of it floating around in my head, so I guess it ins’t entirely dead yet.

There’s other stuff in my head, but most of it is nonsense and wankery and nothing I’m particularly inclined to share. I’m still upset over a conversation I had two weeks ago, and that’s really the thing that’s killing my desire to write.

Solitude is self reinforcing; I’d forgotten. It’s been such a long while since I’ve been truly alone for any length of time, but I’ve spent the last few days almost entirely in the company of family- and my family doesn’t really count in terms of social interaction. They’re neutral, for all that I bitch and moan about not wanting to see them all the time. And now I’m actually alone- entirely isolated, in fact- in this big, empty house, after two and a half days of quiet and neutral interaction.

It’s lovely and awful. The longer I am alone, the less I can stand the thought of being near other people. But at the same time, I’m desperately, pathetically lonely. (I’m also bored out of my mind- an unfortunate side effect. Too, I’m dead tired, but that’s only peripherally related.)

I don’t want to go to sleep, because when I wake up it will be tomorrow, and tomorrow I’ll have to go home. I don’t want to; I’d rather stay here, in the quiet and solitude. I want to go days without saying a word, without seeing another person. Unfortunately, I have to go home to my roommate and my tiny space and the neighbors with their dogs and their crying babies and their flagrant disregard for the concept of a no parking zone.

Blarg. I’m too tired to see straight, let alone make sense.

Category: Uncategorized

AHAHAHAHA

Posted on | November 26, 2008 | No Comments

OH MY GOD HE THREW THE SWORD THAT WAS SO FSKING RETARDED OMG OMG OMG AND THEN MAID MARYSUE SAVED THE DAY WITH HAIRPINS AHAHAHAHAHA.

Special effects: still dumb.

Jesus. That was so retarded. :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

Seriously, Will Scarlet. Still not fooling anyone. You either, Allan A Dale, with your silly little beard.

EDIT: SHOW. THAT WAS UNNECESSARILY AWESOMETARDED.

The Sherrif of Nottingham is the best villain ever.

“I shot the sherrif!”

“No, you shot the deputy.”

:D

Category: TV

Robin Hood, 1-3

Posted on | November 26, 2008 | No Comments

So, Robin Hood. It’s terribly pretty. And pretty terrible. But it’s good terrible, with REALLY DUMB SPECIAL EFFECTS O MAI GAWD. Also, everyone has immensely silly hair.

It’s also chock full of ridonkulous bromance, and I cannot stop giggling every time there’s a scene change and the little place-name caption shoots across the screen. I’m kind of in love- it’s just so cute while trying to be hardcore. And it makes some attempt at period correctness, what with Loxley Manor being a large thatched hutlike thing and all the peasants wearing peasanty clothing.

(Maybe I just love it so because it takes place during the Third Crusade? I don’t know. …except now I kind of want to see some sort of Robin Hood/Assassin’s Creed crossover where Alta’ir runs into Robin and Much while they’re in the Kingdom and shennanigans ensue.)

Oh, Will Scarlet, you’re not fooling anyone by pretending you’re straight. Also, Much, stop being so adorkable. XD And I’m kind of a little bit in love with Maid Marysue and the craaaaaazy Sherrif of Nottingham. Seriously fucking crazy.

Yeah, this show is pretty awesometarded. It helps that I’m so fond of the Robin Hood legends to begin with, and that the characters aren’t all meant to be brainless teenagers. (Instead, they’re brainless twenty-somethings! In fact, I’m pretty sure the Merry Men have a collective IQ equal to that of Robin’s hat. It’s glorious.)

There are two seasons so far, and a third projected for next year; Robin leaves the show at the end of the next season, though. Doesn’t mean the show is cancelled, it’s just…losing its title character. >.> Maybe Robin Hood is actually an incarnation of the Doctor? …yeah, I got nothin’.

Furthermore, Robin seems to be some sort of anarcho-socialist pinko commie, and this is hilarious for me.

Category: TV

SCC: 9

Posted on | November 25, 2008 | No Comments

HEE. TIME PARADOX. DELICIOUS, DELICIOUS TIME PARADOX.

TIME PARADOX WITH JOHNNY CASH. Even better.

Seriously, this show is really fantastic, and it makes me very sad to think that it’s probably going to get cancelled now that it’s been relegated to the Friday Night Timeslot of Impending Doom. It’s the timeslot that took out Firefly, y’know.

I find myself with very little desire to go searching for fic, for fear that all of it is going to be Terminator Mary Sues or sketchy John/Cameron fic. …okay, the sketchiness factor actually isn’t enough to keep me from reading John/Cameron fic. In fact, that might actually be something in its favor. Huh.

Category: TV

True Blood 12

Posted on | November 24, 2008 | No Comments

PTSD Terry, never stop being adorable!

Hoyt, that goes for you, too.

…and that’s pretty much all the commentary I have on this episode. No, really, that’s about it.

Oh, hell, I spoke to soon.

“She is extremely annoying.” PAM. NEVER STOP. Her “Oh, boys” face there was so good. As were Eric’s parting words in Swedish. And her clothes. How much do I love that she wears the uber-dominatrix outfit at Fangtasia and then puts on sweater sets when she’s off work. So much, that’s how much.

Aaaand, there’s the beginning of book two. *sigh* On the other hand, I think I like the way they’re setting up the second season, and I like that it’s looking to be significantly different from the book. However, this probably means we will not get Eric in pink spandex- and that, my friends, is tragic.

Category: True Blood

poem call

Posted on | November 24, 2008 | No Comments

Wittgenstein was wrong: when lovers kiss
they whistle into each other’s mouth
a truth old and sayable as the sun,
for flesh is a palace, aurora borealis,
and the world is all subtraction in the end.

The world is all subtraction in the end,
yet, in a small vaulted room at the azimuth
of desire, even our awkward numbers sum.
Love’s syllogism only love can test.

But who would quarrel with its sprawling proof?
The daftest logic brings such sweet unrest.
Love speaks in tongues, its natural idiom.
Tingling, your lips drift down the xylophone
of my ribs, and I close my eyes and chime.

– Diane Ackerman

^_^

Category: Uncategorized
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