Cleolinda everywhere

I'm going to see Watchmen tomorrow afternoon (and at some point over the weekend, guest on a podcast), so you might not hear much from me over the next couple of days. Of course, as sure as I say that, I'll post five times. I'm just saying, either one is possible. (I never know what I'll be able to write until I sit down and try to do it. So I have no idea if I'll be able to put up something about Watchmen or not.) I'm finishing up a new Secret Life, but I'm also trying to space them out a bit. Honestly, I've just given up on the idea of getting any actual work done until Monday, but at least I know it, I guess.

I've also been feeling really tired lately--I mean, I know you already know that because I'm always talking about it, but I'm starting to think it's actually a mild bit of depression. You know, that chemical imbalance kind where you feel bad for no specific reason, not an event-related depression. We're getting into spring now, though, so I think it'll lift. I'm just not feeling so great at the moment, is all.

And right as I was putting on the finishing touches, the new Star Trek trailer came out. Enjoy.

( Linkspam )

Why does my internet hate me? It takes two or three refreshes for any page to load, so the problem's got to be on my end. And I've run CCleaner and AdAware and all and can't find anything. Fnarr.

Also, Sister Girl wants you to know that Pete now has a lampshade on his head. You know, one of those cones they put around dogs' necks to keep them from chewing at stitches and whatever. "I'm going to have a satellite dog for a week," she moaned. "Well, maybe you'll get better reception now," I said.

Anyway, today's journal flashback: let's do that one time I went to see Derailed.

Linkspam! ( In the 1920s, the French brought the first writers from Asia to Europe )

Lexicongate ETAs march on: a bunch of blogs weigh in without actually reading the ruling; I can't even believe what Stanford Law said; NORA ROBERTS HAS SPOKEN.

I will say this: if you actually read the ruling, or summaries of it, you'll see that Judge Robert Patterson (no, Patterson. He does not sparkle in direct sunlight. That I know of) is very careful to note that this is not a ruling against the general concept of fan comment and critique, for profit or not.¹ The issue is not that the Lexicon is a derivative fan work; the issue is that it isn't. It is, in large part, copy/pasting of the original books' phrasing with little to no criticism or commentary--it's Rowling's work alphabetized. It is, in fact, an enterprise that makes the rest of creative fandom look bad. That's the issue. That's why she isn't suing the other guide books and commentaries² (or me, for that matter, and I also published): because those works actually contributed original thought.³ ( More )

And also, if you're going to play the JKR IS SO GREEDY OMG card, keep in mind that she said she'd donate anything they won to charity, and that His Honor did, in fact, award her and WB the princely sum of $6,750. No, I did not leave any zeroes off.

Anyway. Linkspam. (I was promised a Suantum of Quolace Quantum of Solace trailer! Where is my Something of Boris Quantum of Solace trailer?) ETA: IT'S HERE!

( When Oasis Fans Attack, This Fall on FOX! )

You know, I was in the shower today and I had one of my Great (For Certain Values of "Great") Thoughts, and it was this: perfectionism can be a kind of cowardice. And I'm suffering from it. Because really, perfection doesn't exist, you know? I mean, if it does, it happens only in nature or accidentally; I don't know that you can achieve perfection intentionally, just because of the perverseness of the universe. Um. If that makes any sense. It probably doesn't. What I'm getting at is that--of course we need to have standards. And of course there are objective fields in which you can be "perfect," in which you are right or wrong. Math, for example. The answers on your math homework are either right, or they aren't. Your spelling is either correct, or it isn't. (Yes, I'm sure there arguments against those ideas. Work with me here.) You can choose to break rules for effect in your writing, for example, but that's a kind of perfection you're choosing not to achieve. With objective correctness, when it's right or it's wrong, you can spellcheck the thing and you know when you're done.

With perfection, you don't. Or rather, you know that you're not done. And really, you'll never be done. Which is why I think--I just realized--seeking perfection is a way of being a coward. Because that way you'll never finish, you know? You are nobly dedicating yourself to the pursuit of getting it just right, rather than exposing your imperfect work to see the light of day--rather than allowing yourself to be vulnerable. And being vulnerable is incredibly scary, or at least I find it to be so--opening yourself up to criticism and rejection and all that. And I'm having a big problem with that, in terms of finishing the annotations and the first Black Ribbon book. Obviously we have to have standards, but... I'm trying to teach myself that "good enough" is... well, good enough. Even if people hate it and give me hell for it in some worst-case scenario. Because "I did it" is worth it, at the end of the day.

Linkspam! ( Vampire baseball, Wolverine in trouble, Gnomeo and Juliet (no, really) )

I woke up with a horrific migraine and a weird stomachache this morning--the second time both have happened in a week, actually, which is a bit disconcerting. If it turns out to be a half-vampire baby, I'm going to name it Nellouise Baseball Jones--so I sacked out half-conscious on the couch and watched Olympic beach volleyball for an hour or two (apparently Gibb and Rosenthal are really good, because the announcer kept screaming "Rosenthal! ROSENTHAL!!" like he was in bed with them). At some point, there was swimming. It was all kind of a blur.

Linkspam! ( Voltron, El Chupacabra, Truman Capote’s Pleasure Palace )

I HAVE A GOLDEN BATMAN TICKET, YAY! We're driving out to Trussville for a 9:30 am showing on Saturday, so it will be an adventure. An adventure with a lot of caffeine.

However, I was dying of a horrendous headache most of the afternoon. ( Drugs! )

( Linkspam )

All right, a bit of catch-up on the linkspam: ( Read more... )

Someone in previous comments brought up the idea of doing some kind of podcast, but I have no idea what I'd say; I don't think I've ever even listened to a podcast before. But I actually like doing readings and recordings and things, so it's an interesting idea. Thoughts?

( Linkspam )

EEEEEEEE I WON SOMETHING IN THE BPAL RAFFLE. And I only bought two tickets, is the best part. Turns out I won one of Kythryne's Wearable Sculpture pendants (EEEEEEEE).

(I am a bad person who totally forgot to link to evilbearhunter's BPAL swap/sale last weekend like I promised. She has Tintagel and Sugar Skull! Siren is teh yum [no, really, I've been wearing it all week]! Forgive me!)

V for Vendetta Heroine Addict icons. Not too many, mostly alternate colors/compositions, but still. And there are already V/15M icons over at m15m. As always, take anything you want, credit nice but not a big deal, make your own, have a party.

Speaking of which, a return to linkspam, after a week sort of taken off to write V/15M and deal with that:

( Read more... )

A sleepy, rainy Christmas Eve's day. Things have been way busier than I expected, though, what with all the shopping and baking and present-wrapping this week. Last night I went to my college friends' Christmas party at the Lovely Emily's apartment (this is the Dirty Santa swap we have spoken so much of). And there were some awesome gifts being fought over--slang flashcards ("Doctor, I have to give you mad props for that successful brain surgery"), various bottles of liquor, a hotly-contested pair of earwarmers, and a Deluxe Jesus Action Figure (my contribution. With glow-in-the-dark Miracle Hands!). I ended up with a completely awesome "Terry Pratchett starter kit" from Jerry, which included Good Omens and two other books, and seemed weirdly destined to end up with me although I doubt he bought it with me specifically in mind. But I like Neil Gaiman, I keep hearing about Terry Pratchett and keep meaning to read him and never have, and even Geoffrey said when he was opening the first present (the Jesus), "Ah, it's from Lauren, so it's probably a book." I declared loudly that the Pratchett books were an awful present and no one would ever want to take them from me (much laughter), and sure enough, I went home with them.

I also got an awesome pair of pink and magenta-striped socks from Valerie, as well as a beautiful perfume bottle. And speaking of perfume, three BPAL orders came in within two days: my Yule decants (mmmgingerbreadpoppet), and arpeggiodreams even threw in samples of Glitter, my discontinued favorite (yay! Thank you!), and Safari; my Naughty/Nice order (I was judged Nice, and got a bottle of Snow Angel with my t-shirt); and my Pink Phoenix/Three Witches/imp pack order from the anniversary update. So I am awash in pretty holiday smells just in time for Christmas now.

Mom also gave me a couple of presents early--in my family, Presents Are Not Opened Until the Stroke of Six AM (that hour being the earliest my parents were willing to get up when we were little). Meaning that, unlike a lot of people, apparently, we don't open them on Christmas Eve or anything. And as happens with siblings, there are apparently some perceived inequities in the gift-giving: Sister Girl's are more expensive (and I have the eBay invoices to prove it), so she has fewer. Thus, I get a few ahead of time, like the silver Lucy's vial pendant I wanted, and the Zen Nano (eeee! It's so tiny!) to even perceptions out. So now I'm going to try to load the software and get some songs onto it so I can curl up in bed and write in my diary (yes, I have a separate paper diary just for me. I think it's a universal truth of online journaling that the number of personal things you can talk about is inversely proportional to the number of people who read your blog).

Linkspam:

Tonight, Phantom of the Opera on HBO, for those of you who want to do a read-along.

Heh, fun with lip balm. Cheetos, Hershey, and Twinkies lip balm. I want the Jelly Belly cotton candy balm bad--that's my favorite flavor of jelly beans. And then over here, the awesome Mabel's Laundromat balms, in Princess and Goddess and Bitch, oh my.

Bush to continue domestic spying.

Judge Rules Against Pa. Biology Curriculum.

Parole Board Denies Ailing Kevorkian.

Pa. Community Celebrates Festivus.

Sold: Home With Original Uncle Tom's Cabin.

Penguin Baseball. I like the little "hwee!" sound the penguin makes. It sounds like it's having fun. (Tip: Click once to "pitch" the penguin; click the second time about the time it crosses the yeti's head.)

Author Annie Proulx discusses the origins of her 'Brokeback Mountain.'

The trailer for Mel Gibson's Mayan epic Apocalypto. I can't speak for the movie, but... it is not a good trailer.

Joss Whedon officially pronounces Firefly dead. Or does he?

Woman gets restraining order against David Letterman for sending her messages through her TV. 

Dammit, you guys, I was counting on this not arriving until next year. Not that I could afford it anyway:

Description: Chronicles of Narnia: White Witch's Wand. Specially designed prop replica from Disney's The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Though she calls herself the Queen of Narnia, the White Witch isn't royalty...she's a tyrant. Having taken Narnia by force, she has ruled through pure, icy terror for over one hundred horrific years. A sternly beautiful woman, her frosty elegance echoes the coldness of her heart. Hardened by prick and power, the White Witch is more like the stone statues than she knows.

Wait, hardened by what?

While you ponder that, I will leave you with wishes for a Happy Chrismukkawanzaawalidan and go finish my crackers.