sovay: (Sovay: David Owen)
[personal profile] sovay
So, look, all sorts of things are wrong with the world right now and I'm sure tomorrow will add to their list, but the Republicans' much-vaunted, stupidly cruel "American Health Care Act" went the way of the Hindenburg this afternoon (I have been saying to people that I can't even admit to feeling schadenfreude, because I don't feel at all bad about rejoicing in this misfortune of 45 and his administration) and [livejournal.com profile] rushthatspeaks and I made sesame candy from a cup of toasted sesame seeds, a half-cup of jaggery, and a tablespoon of butter with results that were almost indistinguishable from the storebought (there was a faint smokiness that we will eliminate next time by crushing more of the jaggery first so that it doesn't have to spend as much time over the heat melting) and I found one of those things on Tumblr that makes me basically happy, in this case people discussing seriously which of the various Powell and Pressburger incarnations of Roger Livesey is hottest (I saw him first as Torquil, but I do like Frank) and it's been a very long week and I'll take the good things I can get, but the failure of the ACA repeal is a very good one.

SSR Confidential: Dear Author

Mar. 25th, 2017 03:05 pm
selenak: (Peggy and Jarvis by Asthenie_VD)
[personal profile] selenak
Dear writer, thank you so much for participating in this challenge and creating a story for me. I included some prompts in my requests. Know that if none of these speaks to you, you can still make me happy simply by "Peggy and Jarvis fight crime" case fic. My prompts tend to go in a gen direction, but I'm not averse to shipping, either slash or het or multi, provided you don't put down another another relationship in your story. What I am averse to is character bashing: by which I don't mean character A having a bad opinion of character B, if this is the case in canon or can be extrapolated from it, plus one of my prompts involves villains in central roles, and these people are canonically responsible for horrendous acts. However, there is a difference between that and "ugh, X is the WORST, says every other character ever" type of storytelling, and I trust you, writer, are able to see it.

Re: all the characters not named in my prompts - I'm an ensemble fan and fond of everyone, though of course I have my favourites. Still, just because they're not listed doesn't mean I don't enjoy reading about them, though if you want to work your own favourite into one of the prompts in a prominent role, go ahead, as long as my listed characters have one, too.

Now, about those prompts )

Late, but it's still Friday in places

Mar. 24th, 2017 06:21 pm
usernamehere: scared (scared)
[personal profile] usernamehere posting in [community profile] followfriday
 Got any Follow Friday-related posts to share this week? Comment here with the link(s).
Here's the plan: every Friday, let's recommend some people and/or communities to follow on Dreamwidth. That's it. No complicated rules, no "pass this on to 7.328 friends or your cat will die". Just introduce us to some new things to read.

New Zealand 3: Stranded!

Mar. 25th, 2017 09:40 am
selenak: (Ben by Idrilelendil)
[personal profile] selenak
The last few days were somewhat more cloudy than our first few in New Zealand, but with treats like this one at Te Anau Lake, who cares?

Regenbogen ber Te Anau photo IMG_0883_zps1vczszxb.jpg

Though there was that time when a guy named Ben stranded me on an island in the Tasmanian Sea... )
havocthecat: the lady of shalott (Default)
[personal profile] havocthecat
I don't even have time to be posting, but I am, because. I'm halfway through Iron Fist and suddenly a Daughters of the Dragon team-up series for Colleen Wing and Misty Knight is now all I ever want in a new MCU show. Oh, please. Please, Marvel? I think you could actually do this and have it not suck?

(Because I know Jessica Jones is going to keep going and be amazing, so I'm not worried there. Jess and Trish will have their friendship day.)

I would also not say no to a Heroes for Hire series featuring some combination of Misty, Jessica, Trish, Colleen, and with a side order of Karen and Claire and maybe Marci and Jeri Hogarth every now and again. I mean, it could be episodic instead of arc-based with different team-ups based on the stories you're telling! (If only they had the rights to Black Cat too.)

I just. So many women! So many strengths and flaws and well-rounded characters who could have these great shows. Maybe? Jessica Jones did so well and Supergirl is too, so maybe?

I'll keep dreaming. But in the meantime, back to overwhelming deadlines. But later, I need to find me some Marvel Netflix icons. I'm sadly lacking in them.

Dietician update

Mar. 23rd, 2017 10:36 pm
fairestcat: Dreadful the cat (Default)
[personal profile] fairestcat
I had a phone interview yesterday with a dietitian who specializes in people with disordered relationships with food. I like her, and think I can definitely work with her.

Meanwhile, cut for discussion of weight )
sovay: (Rotwang)
[personal profile] sovay
Last night I dreamed that I dropped by the library to return a book and found [livejournal.com profile] ashlyme and their presumably fictitious writing group hanging out around a table near the science fiction section; I talked plot with people, read some scenes of stories (the young man with Gullah heritage was writing a kind of supernatural mystery inspired by the life of his grandmother the root doctor, please tell me this exists somewhere), and then left the library to meet up with my parents for dinner, at which point I discovered that I had lost an entire day. Twenty-four hours to the minute had passed between my entering and leaving the library. My internal clock thought about an hour, two hours tops. Nothing worse seemed to have happened to me than lost time, but no one remembered seeing me or the writing group, even when I could point to the very table which was now empty of writers, laptops, backpacks, and sodas, but otherwise unremarkable-looking. The only evidence of my presence was the no longer overdue book, which could have been dropped through the return slot after hours. I had neither eaten nor drunk anything during my time in the library and I remember very seriously establishing this fact with my parents, because it seemed likely to be the only reason that I had been able to leave. "Were they in a circle?" [livejournal.com profile] derspatchel asked after I related the dream to him. "It was a round table," I had to agree. Congratulations, Ashlyme! My brain interprets your mere presence as shorthand for Faerie.

Some things—

1. I am reading William Lindsay Gresham's Nightmare Alley (1946). I didn't realize until I saw the dedication "To Joy Davidman" that I knew him by reputation—and not as a writer—the part of Davidman's story that she left behind when she moved to England to live near C.S. Lewis in 1953. In which case he really was as much of a personal disaster area as the foreword by Nick Tosches suggests, but he could write. The epigraphs are taken from Eliot's The Waste Land (1922) and Petronius' Satyricon. The table of contents is a Tarot reading, each chapter a card of the Major Arcana introducing a particular character or signaling a significant event: "The Fool who walks in motley, with his eyes closed, over a precipice at the end of the world . . . The High Priestess. Queen of borrowed light who guards a shrine between the pillars Night and Day . . . The World. Within a circling garland a girl dances; the beasts of the Apocalypse look on." Tosches credits Gresham with introducing a number of carny terms into popular culture, including "geek," "cold reading," and "spook racket." I want to get my OED out of storage and double-check all of these assertions, but it is true that the novel's initial setting of a traveling ten-in-one show feels like a worthy successor to Tod Browning's Freaks (1932) and forerunner of Theodore Sturgeon's The Dreaming Jewels (1950), evocative, sympathetic, and unsentimental in its details of carny life. It gets all the slang right that I can see: talker, spiel, gaffed, "Hey, Rube!" I'm aware the whole thing will eventually turn to horror—the 1947 film adaptation starring Tyrone Power and Joan Blondell is supposed to rank among the sleaziest and bleakest of the first-generation noirs—but at the moment we are still getting passages like this:

Evansburg, Morristown, Linklater, Cooley Mills, Ocheketawney, Bale City, Boeotia, Sanders Falls, Newbridge.

Coming: Ackerman-Zorbaugh Monster Shows. Auspices Tall Cedars of Zion, Caldwell Community Chest, Pioneer Daughters of Clay County, Kallakie Volunteer Fire Department, Loyal Order of Bison.

Dust when it was dry. Mud when it was rainy. Swearing, steaming, sweating, scheming, bribing, bellowing, cheating, the carny went its way. It came like a pillar of fire by night, bringing excitement and new things into the drowsy towns—lights and noise and the chance to win an Indian blanket, to ride on the ferris wheel, to see the wild man who fondles those rep-tiles as a mother would fondle her babes. Then it vanished in the night, leaving the trodden grass of the field and the debris of popcorn boxes and rusting tin ice-cream spoons to show where it had been.


Among its descendants, then, perhaps include also Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes (1962).

2. Somehow despite falling in love (like most of the internet) with Miike Snow and Ninian Doff's "Genghis Khan" (2016) last spring, I had failed to realize that the same cast and crew had reunited later in the year for a second video: "My Trigger." Like its predecessor, it has a terrific poster. I am very fond of its disclaimer.

3. Please enjoy Emily Sernaker's "Lawrence Ferlinghetti Is Alive!" I had no idea that was true and this poem was a nice way to find out.
sovay: (Sydney Carton)
[personal profile] sovay
This is the second day in a row I have slept between eight and twelve hours and I am desperately trying not to jinx it. I'm not thrilled about the part where I am having nothing but very obvious nightmares and where actually sleeping seems to leave me without much time for anything but work, but I still figure it's healthy for me. Tonight [livejournal.com profile] derspatchel and I had plans to see Oliver Hirschbiegel's Downfall (Der Untergang, 2004) at the Somerville Theatre, but instead we made Slightly More Authentic Chicken Saag and headed into Harvard Square to pick up some books I had ordered from the Harvard Book Store during last week's snow day, in the course of which I managed two acquire two more used pulp novels and we did not freeze to death despite the wind's best efforts. I came home to discover that Felled (formerly Moss of Moonlight) have just released their debut EP Bonefire Grit. I am glad that everyone I know in London seems to be all right. I feel like I have lost the ability to write about anything, but I think mostly what I've lost is time and rest. I'm trying to make up the latter. Admittedly I have been trying to make up the latter for decades now, but that doesn't mean it's not worth the effort.
mme_hardy: White rose (Default)
[personal profile] mme_hardy
Our master bathroom always contains three bathtowels, one on the top of the double rail and two on the bottom. Whenever I change the towels, I hang three; so does my husband. This weekend we found out that each of us thought the other needed two towels, and occasionally wondered why. As far as we can determine, the third towel got used only as an emergency handtowel.

Or maybe it was for the prophet Elijah, who knows.

Wednesday Reading Meme

Mar. 22nd, 2017 01:27 pm
sineala: Detail of Harry Wilson Watrous, "Just a Couple of Girls" (reading)
[personal profile] sineala
What I Just Finished Reading

Laura Hillenbrand, Seabiscuit: An American Legend: This is the non-fiction book that was adapted into that movie a while back and it was very well-written and it made me remember that I spent my entire childhood being crazy about horses and also, bizarrely, I seem to remember a lot of details about historical horse-racing (thank you, Black Stallion series) while knowing almost nothing about Seabiscuit, I guess because he never won the Triple Crown, and anyway now I want a 1930s Steve/Tony horse-racing AU please and thank you. (I suppose I could write that instead of my plans for the Big Bang.)

What I'm Reading Now

Comics Wednesday!

Black Panther #12, Captain America Steve Rogers #14, Invincible Iron Man #5, Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #17, Ultimates 2 #5 )

What I'm Reading Next

Probably not much. Writing ALL THE FIC.

wednesday reads 'n things

Mar. 22nd, 2017 09:42 am
isis: winged Isis image (wings)
[personal profile] isis
What I've recently finished reading: Notorious RBG: The Life and Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg by Irin Carmon and Shana Knizhnik, audio version read by Andi Arndt. Despite taking its title (and cover image) from internet memes, this is not as slight a book as one might think. It's organized more thematically than chronologically, which is sometimes confusing, and also a little light on RBG's younger days, but considering that her ACLU work with the Women's Rights Project, and her judgeships on the US Court of Appeals and the Supreme Court are what she's famous for, I think focusing on her tenure with these organizations is reasonable.

And what it covers, it covers with great humor and love. The authors admire RBG for being a steadfast champion of the belief that the government must ensure that women have "full citizenship stature," and that this right frees not just women, but men also, from constraints on their opportunities to participate in and contribute to society. I appreciate the discussion of her important court cases (both those she argued as a lawyer and those she gave opinions on as a judge), and I appreciated the auxiliary PDF with annotated excerpts of the major cases. I also enjoyed the more personal sections about her relationships: not just that with her husband (though that was clearly the most important to her throughout her life, and a wonderful model of a marriage of peers) but also those with the other justices (male and female, conservative and progressive), her clerks, and her personal trainer.

Reading about RBG also helped me articulate to myself what I mean when I say that I'm a feminist. Just as I consider myself a Democrat in the mold of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, I consider that I'm a feminist in the mold of Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

What I'm reading now: Abaddon's Gate, the third Expanse book by James S.A. Corey. So far I'm about 20% into it but not very into it, as it were, as the characters are all completely new and therefore I don't feel particularly invested in them.

What I'm reading next: Just downloaded the audiobook of West with the Night, Beryl Markham's autobiography, from the library. I also plan to read The Marches by Rory Stewart, about walking the border between Scotland and England, when I either finish with or get bored with Abaddon's Gate.

What I'm currently watching: Seven episodes into S1 of The Expanse. Mostly B and I grumble about the things they've changed from the books that don't seem to have any good cinematic or story-telling rationale.

What I'm currently playing: I am well into the Blood and Wine DLC expansion of Witcher 3 and really enjoying it. There have been several entertaining quests so far, though also I had to enter a tournament involving horse racing and man, do I ever suck at horse racing with this gameplay system. Everything seems to have an interesting story associated with it, which is something I really like about this game. I will be sad when I finish!

Mind sees double when it comes undone

Mar. 21st, 2017 10:40 pm
sovay: (Morell: quizzical)
[personal profile] sovay
Overheard tonight on the bus to Davis Square, two teenagers giggling behind me:

"Little mushrooms growing out of your skull . . . Eat a huge meal and then just go up on the roof and die."

Until I get evidence otherwise, I'm holding Caitlín R. Kiernan responsible.

(And if you're in the Boston area and missed her appearance at Porter Square Books on Monday, you can come to Pandemonium Books & Games on Thursday and find out why.)
katstevens: (dogswim)
[personal profile] katstevens posting in [community profile] rglondon
Stuffins Unlimited, Croydon, London CR0

Evening RGL crew!

This week's featured article is for the legendary Stuffins Unlimited in Croydon. This sandwich shop is clearly inspired by the great 2 Unlimited not just in name, but in its cheerful personnel, quick-moving queue, boshing specials and hardcore rave breakfast baps (maybe). Get Bready For This!

First among a bunch of new articles on RGL this week is a new branch of the Nordic Bakery in Seven Dials. I am still recovering from the last time I had one of their extremely strong coffees at the Golden Square branch (approx 8 years ago). The coffee strength at Coffee Express in Belvedere is as yet unknown, but they'll do a weak cup of tea if you ask for one. (If you're after something stronger in DA17, the Belvedere Hotel pub has reopened.)

Elsewhere, in Brixton's Market Row there's Brazilian food at Carioca, while Earlsfield's Cah Chi will do you a decent beef japchae. Last but not least is the Running Horses pub in Erith. Where is Erith, I hear you ask? Well, I was at that pub myself just yesterday and I ate a large sausage roll, but it was dark outside and I got lost on the way, so I couldn't tell you exactly how I got there. Erith: shrouded in mystery! Or you could get the train.
sovay: (Cho Hakkai: intelligence)
[personal profile] sovay
God damn it, I do not have time to write as I would like about the Actors' Shakespeare Project's Edward II, which I just got back from seeing with my cousins and [livejournal.com profile] nineweaving, but it was wonderful. I did not know until we were leaving that director David R. Gammons was responsible for the stunning Duchess of Malfi that introduced me to the ASP in 2009, but I had started to wonder in the second act based strictly on the staging and lighting. His director's note is worth reading. I am sorry only that I cannot send everyone I know to see it because tonight was the last show of the run. This is worse than my usual problem of reviewing the second-to-last performance. It was a dense and beautiful production; I might as well have some record of it.

You walk into the black box of the Charlestown Working Theater and you find yourself in the fantasia of a bathhouse: shower-white tile and undressed brick, plastic curtains and graffiti, the private subterranean space where a man can meet another man and kiss him full on the mouth in the knowledge that no one will try to kill them for it. (Other things may—the wall over the toilet is scrawled "SILENCE = DEATH" and the wall behind the audience bears the white-on-black legend "UNDIQUE MORS EST"—Death is everywhere. The play is not anchored to the 1980's, but they set much of the tone.) Steam drifts by from the fog machine. There is often a sound of water when there is not the echo of music. By low incandescence it's intimate, by fluorescence it's grody, it takes on a dance-club aura when suffused pink or purple and when the lights fall to warning red it's a bomb shelter. There is a catwalk above and a ladder going up a far wall. There is a tin bath. There is the royal throne, a plain gold chair with a crimson cushion. In that last piece of dressing lies the trick and the tragedy of this bathhouse: it is not a secret or a safe space, because Edward is the king of England. Nowhere he goes is truly private. Nothing he does is in isolation from his realm. His reunion with the recalled Gaveston is a slow, urgent, athletic dance, powerfully expressive of the chemistry and the affection between them, culminating in the transgressive sight of the low-born Gaveston with his feet tucked up on the throne like a cat in its favorite armchair, the gift of his king's great ring hanging about his throat, his slim body swathed in the black-and-gold brocade of Edward's robe. They cuddle and Gaveston snaps on the TV; a music video washes soundlessly across the tiled wall. They could be any harried but happy couple, hiding away from the world in each other's arms. They look at each other like no one else exists. They were watched from the catwalk by the disapproving Earl of Lancaster and now he confers with ambitious, malicious Mortimer, sourly cataloguing the titles and honors that the king is lavishing on his "minion" while letting the rest of the country go hang. Especially because this production treats their relationship as true romance, I appreciated it also recognizing that the reality of their love does not constitute an excuse for Edward's shirking of his political responsibilities or his callous treatment of his queen Isabella, whose love for him was just as real and powerful and painfully unrequited. The play isn't a tragedy because Edward is queer. It's a tragedy because he's a king and he's so bad at it. His lover is just how his enemies get in.

My only other point of comparison for this play is Derek Jarman's Edward II (1991), so I am happy to report that Gammons' production is very much its own thing, although I love how the director signals that he is perfectly aware of the career of Saint Derek of Dungeness of the Order of Celluloid Knights—the music videos playing silently as Gaveston and Edward snuggle and Mortimer and Lancaster plot are the Pet Shop Boys' "Rent" (I love you—you pay my rent) and the Smiths' "Ask" (If there's something you'd like to try, ask me—I won't say no, how could I?), both shot by Jarman.1 Both comment, of course, on the problem of Gaveston: it is one thing to dress a mistress with jewels, it's another to give a base-born man more rights and powers than any nobleman in the land. Eddie Shields' Gaveston shows little inclination to abuse his privileges for personal gain—though he pronounces my knee shall bow to none but to the king with provocative pride, on receiving his invitation to "share the kingdom" with the newly crowned Edward he imagines mostly that he will organize masques, dances, and music for his lover's delight—but the class-crossing is insult enough. Of course, it does not help in the eyes of hard men like Edward's earls that Gaveston is a pretty man, slinky, snarky, and just a little bit of a bitch, with a conscious, flirtatious boyishness. He makes his first appearance naked, rising from his bath to drape himself in a strategic towel and dream of Edward. He knots the rich brocade of his sovereign's robe around his waist and it trails behind him in a more queenly train than Isabella's own gowns; he returns from exile in gilt stiletto heels and a sashaying, feather-trimmed coat open to show the ring that hangs against his chest and the light trail of fur that leads down into his tight black trousers. Maurice Emmanuel Parent's Edward can lift him outright in his arms, nuzzle him and flip the smaller man's weight around his shoulders like a swing dancer; part of what makes their relationship both believable and heartbreaking is their playfulness as well as their passion with one another, three-dimensional groundwork for Edward's maddening grief on his lover's loss. He too is a beautiful man—a beautiful Black man in a production where he is not the only actor of color—and also seen naked, though in the much more poignant circumstances of his imprisonment, crouched in the same tin bath where Gaveston woke, convulsively, from a bad dream that might have been a premonition in the first seconds of the play—and encompasses easily the difficult sympathy of a character whose decisions are almost all terrible and whom the audience still wants to see happy. His final scene was even more moving than I had hoped from realizing who would share the stage with him for it.

But all the cast are good. There are eight of them, condensed and doubled from Marlowe's thirtyish speaking parts. The rebellious barons become a pair of conspirators, Nigel Gore's Lancaster and Alex Pollock's Mortimer; the former carries himself with disgusted, soldierly efficiency while the latter is a pallid skinhead in black biker leathers, drawing out his creepily amused delivery and off-kilter swagger past the point of grotesquerie yet never losing his grasp on the verse, which is probably what saved him for me as an interpretation. (Whistling "YMCA" before the killing of Gaveston was almost a clockwork orange too far for me. The way he rattled off his Latin with a niceness all out of keeping with the rest of his persona may have brought him back.) Both bring knives openly into Edward's otherwise unarmed court. Watching the blades change hands among the cast, the audience can track each character's potential for violence, though not necessarily their chances of success. Moving with great dignity in her antique dress, Jennie Israel's Isabella turns against her husband only slowly, driven by the increasing cruelty of his rejections and the need to protect her son—the future Edward III, played by David J. Castillo as a lanky, raspberry-haired teenager who would much rather lie up in the loft and listen to post-punk than have to witness his horrifying family drama—from the political storm she herself will not escape. Stewart Evan Smith makes a cocky, competent Spencer, with a wonderful stunned expression when kissed suddenly by his king in a defiant assertion of sexual and political identity, and Nile Hawver succeeded in making me feel for traitorous, hesitating Kent, who really does love his brother the king and really does care about the welfare of his country and by throwing in his lot with Lancaster and Mortimer absolutely guarantees his inability to protect either one of them. (The actor had fantastic hair, manga mad scientist quality; I liked that he looked good in the SS-ish black leather trenchcoat that he donned after betraying his brother and looked really uncomfortable about looking good in it. His total failure to make amends in the second act constituted an unexpected miniature tragic arc of its own.) I enjoyed how often all of them were allowed to shift registers, sometimes naturalistic, sometimes highly stylized, often some mix of the two; a particularly striking scene in the second act had the young Edward—as yet uncrowned, his father still in the Tower instead of his grave—pinned in the empty shaft of spotlight where the throne should have stood, twisting with nightmare slowness from his implacable mother to his desperate uncle to his mother's grinning lover, searching for truth, searching for security, finding nothing. I should have remembered this director's eye for compositions. One of the highlights of the first act was the unspeakably awkward welcome-home party for Gaveston, complete with decorated cake, nervously held mylar balloons, and boldly designed, impressively passive-aggressive shield devices. The concluding image of the play was not Jarman's, but it was Jarman-worthy, gilding and ambiguity and all.

And I cannot get out of this post without mentioning that this Edward II had the best music of any stage production I've seen in a long time. The first song playing as the house opened was the Smiths' "How Soon Is Now?" (You shut your mouth—how can you say I go about things the wrong way? I am human and I need to be loved just like everybody else does.) At different points I heard Joy Division's "Transmission" (We would go on as though nothing was wrong and hide from the days to remain all alone) and Killing Joke's "The Wait" (Motives changing day to day, the fire increases, mass decay). The second act came up on Pylon's "Cool" with its scratchy, flourishy guitar riff, its bassline thrumming nervously in the aftermath of Gaveston's murder. The cast took their bows to the Smiths' "Panic" (also filmed by Jarman), which I can only assume was an in-joke because I did not want to hang the DJ, I wanted to find them and thank them because I have never before heard that many songs I liked and recognized in a stage production unless it was a musical. If anybody knows the piece which accompanied Edward and Gaveston's lovemaking and reunion, please tell me; I think it had some of the Song of Songs in its lyrics, but I had never heard it before. [edit] Nineweaving found it: David Lang's "Just (After Song of Songs)." It's nice to know I heard the allusion correctly.

Right. This is less than I wanted, but longer than I intended. Next time I see David R. Gammons' name on a production, I should just get tickets whatever it is. I hope it's something as infrequently performed and rewarding as The Duchess of Malfi or Edward II. I am going to bed. I almost tagged this post for Patreon.

1. In the process of checking that I had remembered his canonization correctly, I discovered that Derek Jarman actually thought about making a film about Alan Turing and I was then distracted by furious grieving. Do you have any idea how much I would have wanted to see that? I start wondering who he would have cast as Alan; I wonder if he would have cast Kevin Collins as Christopher. (Or as Arnold Murray? Double-cast? I saw a production of Breaking the Code that did that and it worked. I wonder if Tilda Swinton would have played Turing's mother.) I could see him treating the codes and mathematics as elliptically and understandably as the philosophy in Wittgenstein (1993). I don't know what he would have come up with for Turing that was as left-field as the Martian in Wittgenstein, but I know it would have worked. Even if he had just written the script, I would have wanted it. Fuck you, AIDS. Current administration, I can't believe you're making Reagan look good by comparison; he doesn't deserve to.
sineala: (Avengers: Steve/Tony: Any excuse)
[personal profile] sineala
Here, have some fluffy commentfic I wrote the other day:

Provisioning (422 words) by Sineala
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Avengers (Comics), New Avengers (Comics)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark
Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Grocery Shopping, New Avengers Vol. 1 (2004)
Summary: Steve and Tony make a grocery list.
sovay: (Rotwang)
[personal profile] sovay
Oh, God, I am tired. Since Tuesday, I have slept four hours a night at most and all of it during the day, which is terrible for me. I had three deadlines this weekend and I've made two of them; the third will have to wait until I've gotten back from the closing show of the Actors' Shakespeare Project's Edward II, which I am seeing tonight with [livejournal.com profile] rushthatspeaks, [livejournal.com profile] gaudior, and [livejournal.com profile] nineweaving. I have never seen a stage production, only Jarman's luminous 1991 film. Yesterday I took my parents to hear the Alloy Orchestra accompany Douglas Fairbanks in The Black Pirate (1926), a two-strip Technicolor swashbuckler with plenty of acrobatics and sliding down sails. It was a digital projection and I am both amused and annoyed that it cut out for a crucial moment during the wrap-up—immediately after Fairbanks' laughing, chivalrous, black-clad revenger was hailed as "my lord Duke"—because between the Egyptian hieroglyphs of his father's signet ring and his leather-kilted men arriving in the nick of time rowing what looked for all the world like a pentekonter minus the sails, we were really left wondering what or when the hell country he was Duke of. (The internet tells me "Arnoldo," which explains nothing.) Have some things that happened on the internet while I was not looking.

1. Derek Walcott died. I discovered him in grad school; I was TA'ing a class on Homeric retellings, including Walcott's Omeros (1990). It must have been a good introduction, since I promptly ran out and bought his most recent collection at the time. He was one of the great contemporary poets of the sea.

I loved them as poets love the poetry
that kills them, as drowned sailors the sea.

—"The Schooner Flight"

2. Chuck Berry died. [livejournal.com profile] derspatchel sent me an interview from 1980 where he was asked to comment on some notable punk and new wave singles of the time. He liked the music of the Sex Pistols and the Clash (but not the vocals in either case: "Can't understand most of the vocals. If you're going to be mad at least let the people know what you're mad about"), had nice things to say about the Selecter and Dave Edmunds, was unimpressed by Wire and Joy Division, and I just like his entire reaction to Talking Heads' "Psycho Killer": "A funky little number, that's for sure. I like the bass a lot. Good mixture and a real good flow. The singer sounds like he has a bad case of stage fright."

3. John Kander did not die! Not only that, but he got to include among his ninetieth birthday celebrations a smackdown of Richard Spencer, courtesy of Kander's great-nephew Jason. Remember that thing where Kander and Ebb got hate mail during the original run of Cabaret for trivializing the horrors of history by incorporating a real-life anthem of the Third Reich into their score? And that was totally wrong? Apparently Spencer did not get the memo about the queer Jewish Broadway origins of "Tomorrow Belongs to Me," either.

And this is an article about Romaine Brooks. I wish I hadn't missed that exhibit. Teleporter, someday. I must run.

New Zealand 2

Mar. 20th, 2017 05:34 am
selenak: (Galadriel by Kathyh)
[personal profile] selenak
Travelling means not much time online, so I use what I have to share the beauty around me.

Photographing Middle Earth )

Man, I wish my Russian were better

Mar. 18th, 2017 11:29 am
sineala: (Avengers: Linguistics)
[personal profile] sineala
Fanfic I intensely wish I could read:

Трудности расшифровки культурных кодов (24141 words) by Raznoglazaya
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanova, Clint Barton
Summary: «Откуда ты такой взялся, почему ты мне так невыносимо любопытен, и что мне с тобою делать?». А также немного о биологических экспериментах, спецслужбах разных планет и чудесах Вселенной.

It's a 25,000-word MCU/Vorkosigan fusion where Steve is a Barrayaran officer and Tony is a Cetagandan ghem-lord and I'm guessing they fall in love.

Google Translate is actually not doing a half-bad job but I really, really wish my Russian were better than it is, because at this point my Russian is basically nonexistent.

(Dear Google Translate: it took me way too long to figure out that "out" meant "haut." Also "Jackson Archipelago" is making me laugh. Is that what it's called in the Russian books?)
giandujakiss: (Default)
[personal profile] giandujakiss
Bucky saving an animal and the animal saving him right back.

Like, literally, my tolerance is endless.

New Zealand 1

Mar. 18th, 2017 08:30 pm
selenak: (VanGogh - Lefaym)
[personal profile] selenak
New Zealand: a wondrous experience so far.


Lighting the Beacons )

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