katallison: (Default)
It has been brought to my attention -- the hideous and unspeakable realization has been forced upon me -- that [livejournal.com profile] shrift the Great and Glorious, Polyamorous Fannish Crackwhore Extraordinaire, Shrift the Mistress of the Snark, has ... not ... seen ... Invisible Man.


Which is to say, the woobiness of Eberts, the unparalleled insanity of Darien's hair and wardrobe, and the all-encompassing wonder that is BobbyHobbes! -- all these are unknown to her. As are likewise the snark, the banter, the heartwrenchingness of "Flowers for Hobbes," the . . . no, I can't go on. *chin quivering wildly*

And the reason given? is that, and I quote: "I feel bad asking anyone for it, since people have been incredibly generous to me already."

This from Shrift, who has done more ass-busting in the way of fannish infrastructure --the archives! the recs!--to say nothing of the fabulous stories! -- than have legions of us lesser fanpersons, laid end-to-end.

I say unto you, my sistern and brethren in fandom -- with one hand gripping the pulpit, and the other pointing skyward calling down the Wrath of the Fannish Gods -- I say unto you, This Shall Not Stand!!

Had I but any I-Man source at my disposal, I should have already rectified this gross transgression against the Rightness of Things. As I do not (having only seen the series by the grace of [livejournal.com profile] tzikeh upon whom all blessings flow), I shall ask -- nay, I demand -- that others in our congregation, those more blessed with the Having of Source, rectify this outrage! Shower upon our sister Shrift the benison of tapes, let the episodes flow down upon her like a mighty river, so that she who is worthiest among us may truly know the Glory that is BobbyHobbes! (and Darien also, of course, what with the biceps and the neck and all.)

Hallelujah and AMEN!

(And it is of course borne upon me that her demur might be in the cause of "Jeezus KEERIST please do not saddle me with yet ANOTHER fandom!" Which I wave aside as a piffling and transitory thing, my mind set always upon the higher cause of Fannish Righteousness [and not at all upon my own craving for I-Man fiction from Shrift, oh heavens no, not at all...])
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While everyone else revels in HBP, I'm having a wholly unwarranted amount of fun this weekend browsing through the [livejournal.com profile] ts_ficathons stories. Unwarranted, because I was never even slightly a Sentinel fan; but there are excellent writers participating, many of whom have been away from TS for a while, and in reading their stories, I keep getting a feeling of -- well, a sort of uncomplicated happiness, a nostalgic reunion with beloved characters and situations, and I'm taking vicarious pleasure in their enjoyment (and in the excellence of many of the stories).

And even though this weekend is even more ridiculously hot than the week preceding, I've finally decided to just quit bitching and relax about it. I spent the bulk of the day at a very wonderful nearby library, which has (in addition to books and air conditioning) a coffeeshop right in the same building, with free WiFi and ample plug-ins, and I camped out there with my laptop and headphones and reading material and had a good time. Now I'm back home in my 88-degree house, wearing as little clothing as humanly possible, sipping a glass of cheap white wine with icecubes in it, flipping between the Cubs game and the hurricane special on Nat'l Geographic, and cultivating positive mental attitude. The Voice of Depression (and its thuggish buddy, the Hitman of Anxiety Disorder) are still skulking on the horizon, but I'm giving 'em the stink-eye and kicking 'em to the curb. TO THE CURB!
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I have been trying to compose a post which makes no reference whatsoever to the godawful fucking heatwave currently in its zillionth day. Without any great success.

Since the g.f.h. has liquified my few brain cells, all I have left to say was actually said much better by the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] inapickle, and I quote: I myself am not interested in Harry Potter, but I'm thrilled vicariously for all of you out there who love him and his friends, however you choose to do it. I could repeat this with "SGA" in place of "Harry Potter" and it'd be just as true (though somewhat less grammatical). My interest in both these fandoms is nonexistent, but it's great fun to see all my beloved friends having such fun.

Meanwhile, (returning to my own preoccupation, the aforementioned g.f.h.), we are in train here to set some kind of record for consecutive days above 90. Whee. *desultorily tossing a handful of damp confetti, which drops limply to the ground and shrivels*

I guess I could also pass along a Very Important Life Lesson for anyone living through a g.f.h. without the aid of either air conditioning or a dishwasher, which is -- in such circumstances, it is imperative to wash any dish, vessel or cooking implement as soon as one is done with it, as unpleasant as the concept may be, because if one instead defaults to one's slovenly habit of Oh, I'll just put it in the sink to soak for a few hours [days, weeks], the results will be of a disgustingness heretofore unimagined in the darkest slimy nightmares of foetid and malodorous decay.

That's all. Carry on with your HBP-reading and McKay/Sheppard squeeing, oh legions of the friendslist. Me, I'm off to haul the bottle of Bombay Sapphire out of the freezer and pour myself another slug.
katallison: (Default)
There's a thing floating around about character archetypes, or which types of characters you're usually drawn to, etc. My own meagre contribution: the characters I *like* are pretty wide-ranging (e.g., Giles, Ray Kowalski, Frank Pembleton, BobbyHobbes!, C. J. Cregg, Krycek, Joe Dawson, etc.) but tend to have in common the traits of (a) competence and (b) a certain degree of painfully-acquired life wisdom (which is to say, they are not shiny kids, they've been smacked around by life and hauled themselves up off the mat and struggled on).

But the characters I *love*--the ones who've compelled me enough to make a serious effort to move into their heads and write from that vantage point--are three in number: Mulder, Methos, Fraser. And what these three have in common is -- they're aliens. Not the overt sort of pointy-eared or be-tentacled aliens, but rather human beings just like us (well, leaving aside the Immortal aspect, with Methos), who look like us, walk and talk and suffer like us, but who are essentially *different* in their understandings of life, love, work, and the various daily-bread conventionalities that hold most of us together. Their passions are not our passions, they're not about happiness or security or a reasonably fulfilling marriage or living a "successful" life or whatever. But their alienness is not about "Oh, I'm going to be an unconventional rebel, tee hee," it's just them being who they are, who they have to be. They are *different.* They're my people.

And then a few musings on House... )

And it has been a very very long week, and I'm wobbling off to bed.
katallison: (Default)
Stuff that is Good:

(a) Perfectly beautiful day out, will get up to 71, and I'm going out to my brother and sister-in-law's place for some quality hanging-out time.

(b) [livejournal.com profile] nifra_idril's recap of The Fast and the Furious made me hoot with laughter, in part because -- OK, my brother? the one referenced above? the uber-bookish academic/cerebral geek, who (1) though he knows about slash, claims not to get it at all, and (2) never had a driver's license until he was in his 30s? This guy is a *total* FatF *fanboy*. He has watched it I don't know how many times. He has tried to explain the underlying themes to me in archetypal terms. And I am so, so tempted to send Nifra's recap to him, except--no, better not. But *heeeeeee*.

(c) Mr. P., when he came over last night, brought me a baggie of -- wait for it -- DARK M&Ms!! I shit you not! They're a mix of navy, dark red, purple, black and grey, and OMG HOW COOL IS IT THAT THERE ARE GREY M&Ms IN THE WORLD! It makes me so very happy that there is DARK CANDY in the world, dark angsty candy, candy the color of a bruise! Ahem.

(d) I went over to my old friend J's house this morning, to help her 11th grade son work on his college application statements, and I've been sort of out of touch with J for a while and hadn't seen her son in, like, five or six years, so imagine my surprise to discover that he's grown into a tall lanky guy who looks startlingly like a younger and thinner Matthew McConaughey, topped with perfect RayK hair. Reprise the "I shit you not" -- PERFECT RayK hair, like it had been lifted right off CKR's head and set down on this really *incredibly* good-looking kid. Who is also a brilliant math/science prodigy, pondering recruiting letters from MIT and U of Chicago and Stanford, and also very funny and sweet. And yes, it's probably a good thing there are standards and codes about not molesting the 34-years-younger-than-one sons of one's old buddies. But a woman can *look*, at least. Golly.
katallison: (Default)
For [livejournal.com profile] pearl_o, who asked people to post some fannish squee, I am sticking up the first few bits of my contribution to the Favorite Fanfic Moments, DS Edition. There will be more to come, but I was having social life this evening and didn't get finished...Read more... )

House 1x16

Mar. 29th, 2005 09:12 pm
katallison: (Default)
(Yeah, I'm watching House. Yeah, I caved. Oh, hush.) So The only part of tonight's episode that puzzled me... )


Mar. 25th, 2005 07:41 pm
katallison: (Default)
Having now watched the movie, I can do no better than to quote the brilliant and lovely [livejournal.com profile] dsudis, to wit: WILBY WONDERFUL IS PROOF THAT GOD LOVES US AND WANTS US TO BE HAPPY.

That happy little gently-bubbling puddle you see over there? Would be me.
katallison: (Default)
...and also quite flattered. Thank goodness I resulted in being myself, otherwise I'd be a bit worried.

(Which Highlander Fanfic Writer Are You?)

cut for results... )

I am a Quizilla test result. Golly. I think my life is all downhill from here.
katallison: (Default)
... thought while idly watching 100 Scariest Movie Moments on Bravo (one of those dopey shows with little bitty film clips interspersed with lengthy commentary by some random assortment of people) --

Lance Henriksen? At age 65, with completely white hair? And the earring? Oh my GOD, how very *hot* is he. Seriously. Good *god.*
katallison: (Default)
Apparently my subconscious decided last night to have its say on the whole Characters of Color brouhaha.

So, I dreamed I was back at Escapade, in the con suite, which was rather larger and on one side opened into a big auditorium with a stage. Lunch was being served and almost all the members were in the con suite, wandering around talking and getting food, when suddenly a door opened and out came a procession of maybe a dozen beautiful, buff, shirtless Black men, wearing only tight jeans. They marched single-file across the con suite and over to the stage, passing so close by me I had to flatten against the wall. All the con members flocked into the auditorium, and I remember thinking that this was another surprise the con com had cooked up for us, that they were going perform some racy sort of Chippendales/Full Monty thing for us. Instead, when I got into the auditorium, I saw that the men were standing on stage on the sort of risers used by choral groups. And then they started singing a perfectly straight, high-school-chorale-worthy version of "Getting To Know You." Some of the con members were silent, watching with apparent confusion, but most crowded closer to the stage, and -- some enthusiastically, some way off key, some timidly and under their breath -- started singing along with the men:

Getting to know you, getting to know all about yoooouuuu . . .
Getting to like you, getting to hope you like meeeeeee. . .

I woke up, contemplated this, and then cracked up laughing. My subconscious, she is *such* a sap.
katallison: (Default)
I write this entry (which has been floating around in my head) with some trepidation; many of my friends are over-the-moon smitten with House, and I have no intention of raining on anyone's parade, pissing on anyone's cornflakes, or otherwise harshing the love. But there are reasons why I shall never, despite some geniune fondness for some aspects of this show, be able to be a *fan* of it, or in fact to watch it a whole lot, and I felt moved to type them out (possibly because I am cranky from spending way too much time in hospitals the last six months).

Disclaimer the first: I haven't seen all the episodes. I've seen maybe -- five? Six? Something like that, anyway. The last one I saw was the mysteriously-ill high school kids.

Disclaimer the second: My having reservations about something, or not liking something, implies *no* slur or disrespect toward people who unreservedly like that thing.

Having said which -- There's stuff I actually do like a lot about the show: )

But I have one big difficult and apparently insuperable Issue: )
katallison: (Default)
Despite having stumbled to bed around 12:30 (which is *waaaay* late for me), I woke up clear-headed and full of energy at 5:45 this morning. Thanks go out to my brain for having retained a grip on the "we are NOT going to consume an entire bottle of champagne, dammit" plan last night.

I had a long and sappy entry started here, about the wonderfulness of fandom as a community fundamentally grounded in giving, which was sparked by a confluence of posts read this morning (including [livejournal.com profile] eliade's marvellous dS charity story; [livejournal.com profile] justacat's thoughts on fandom; [livejournal.com profile] maygra's shout-out to friends; forays into various Yuletide and dS Seekrit Santa stories; and all kinds of people's New Year's wishes and blessings). But I lost my train of thought, and will set it aside for some future point when I'm feeling sappy but also slightly more coherent.

I had started leaving comments on the Seekrit Santa stories several days ago, and then it struck me that if I did so to all of them (as I'd intended) it would kind of blow the reveal, on my story at least. (Not that I think there was any *vast* surprise there, given that it was the only gen story, and that everything I've posted -- good god, for the past *two years* now -- has been gen. I'm quite shocked, actually, to realize that only by the broadest and baggiest possible definition of "slash" can I still call myself a slash writer.)

Anyway, I shall complete my commenting over the weekend. And re-re-read the extraordinary story Hth wrote for me. (*glowing*) Any maybe write a little. And also do unending laundry, having discovered this morning that damn near every article of clothing I own is dirty.
katallison: (Default)
Today's reflection: after a lengthy holiday run of cookies, chocolate, eggnog, beef tenderloin, potato gratin, more cookies, chips & dip, red wine, pate, fondue, coconut-chocolate bars -- after all this, I tell you what, a nice plain little bowl of cottage cheese is the food of the freakin' gods.

Apart from Christmas day itself, I've spent a quiet and solitary long weekend. Christmas day featured a deeply depressing visit to my dad in the nursing home [approx. 500 words of depressingness edited out], and then a very nice dinner with Mr. P., who made with the cool presents. These included an armload of old hardback editions of Nero Wolfe mysteries [approx. 500 words of how this former interest of mine has re-emerged a a fandom-of-sorts for me, in part due to [livejournal.com profile] _aerye_, pulled for further consideration and expansion], and a particularly excellent find, a DVD of the New York Dolls reunion concert at the Royal Festival Hall earlier this year [more blithering on this excised as unlikely to be of interest to anyone else except maybe [livejournal.com profile] cesperanza].

I've been dipping randomly into the [livejournal.com profile] ds_seekritsanta stories, and a few Yuletide pieces, but really I haven't been on the computer much, and am pretty much behind on LJ and everything else. Tomorrow I'm back to work, but I have another long weekend coming up, and a whole bunch of writing on which to get moving. We'll see if that actually comes to pass, however.
katallison: (Default)
Deep and respectful bows to [livejournal.com profile] astolat and [livejournal.com profile] tzikeh for shepherding the Yuletide project and its myriad stressed-out writers through the various hassles that have befallen them. Though I'm not writing for Yuletide, I took on story-posting duties for [livejournal.com profile] lapillus, whose ISP is currently down with the vapors, and hope to god I managed everything OK. I'm left very relieved (as I'm sure [livejournal.com profile] _aerye_ is also) that the dS Seekrit Santa project is, in comparison, small and easily managed.

In other news, it is cold cold cold here, and shall get colder still over the next few days. I am huddled in with a blanket and red wine, happily watching Millennium DVDs, but unhappily contemplating tomorrow morning's 25-below-zero windchills, and the 12-below temperatures forecast for Thursday night. Thank the lord I've got my Christmas shopping done, and really have no reason to go anywhere except to work and back the rest of this week.
katallison: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] kelliem posted a rant in her LJ today expressing her frustration with a bit of fanon she sees creeping into ever more dS stories--namely, RayK as a smoker. I started to reply in her comments, realized I was getting long, and decided to post this here. I hope it goes without saying that I'm writing this not to argue with Kellie, whom I greatly like and respect, or to disparage her rights to her beliefs and opinions. But her entry gave me occasion to think about the ways in which we justify fanon... )


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November 2009



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