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Apr. 9th, 2013

A thought occurred to me a week ago about something I wrote when I was seventeen, and now I can't get it out of my head.

Can you say rape culture because I can say rape cultureCollapse )

Jan. 30th, 2013

So I've left school. Made first quarter, went back after Christmas, then realized nope, this is not a thing that is happening. I am too queer to live in a dorm full of girls, and Drexel is a bit on the strict side when it comes to housing. All of the campus surveys and such had four options for gender: Male/Female/Transgender/Other. The first time I checked Other simply because I could, but somewhere along the line it went from because I can to because I am. Internalized misogyny is still a thing in my inner conflicts, but I'm more settled than I was in September.

Now I have no idea what I'm going to do, this time it's of my own accord, and it' fantastic.

In the direct present I've got to scrounge up a job somewhere, which isn't the easiest thing to do this time of year. Further off into the future, I'm considering a distance program and Mom is encouraging me to look at Evergreen, I think it's called? It's just over in Seattle so I'd be able to come home for the shorter breaks like Thanksgiving, and it's basically a super duper liberal hippie Montessori college founded in the '70s, so bully for them. The thing is, if I want to go home at all while at school, which I do, I desperately do, I'm severely limited in my choices. I thought I could take it, and I couldn't.

I don't know how this'll affect London. It's probably still a thing that can happen, and now I'm not limited in regards to when I can go or how long. It just doesn't seem practical anymore. When I was on the East Coast it was practically right there, just across the ocean. Now, I am literally on the other side of the planet. I really want to go though like, writing friendship love poems to Sara in my head want to go. So, we'll see.

Meanwhile, Green Lantern is the worst fandom to be in right now and I hate everything.

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So, post apocalyptic dream, yeah? Everything's gone to le shit, human population took a nosedive. Wonder Woman and two other Amazons have a plan though. Hidden somewhere in this high-tech vault thing in stasis are three baby girls, each the daughter of a different Greek goddess. The babies are prophesied to fix all the shit that men broke, but raising one baby in a post apocalyptic wasteland is hard enough so they make the hard decision to only raise the daughter of Hera. The three Amazons go to this evil Amazon/ancient Greek witch/whatever, may have been Circe or Medusa, and try to trade what little they have for food to feed the baby. Let's call her Circe figures out what the Amazons are up to right away and turns out to actually be on their side, sort of. She has no love for mortal man and his fuckups, and figures that if this crazy plan works then women will be in charge. So she gives them a good deal and Diana sets out to fetch the baby. She climbs this mountain and sneaks into this sci-fi vault with security lasers and such, only to discover that the three babies have joined together into this sort of uber-female-Greek-Jesus.

And that's when Starfleet shows up. See, the men of Starfleet are one of the bigger groups of surviving humans, and somehow they've gotten wind of the Amazons' plan and for whatever reason don't like it. So Captain Pike shows up in this airship thing, and it's very like something out of a Ghibli movie, sort of cobbled-together high/low tech flying machines. And there's this fight, Diana trying to get the baby out and getting shot at and shooting back in return, and she's almost got out. But then Jim Kirk shows up on this flying windsurfer thing and she shoots him out of the air, but just before she does so he fires off a homing missile. Diana and the baby crash in the wasteland near a river and Diana dies, leaving the baby to perish.

BUT THEN TINTIN SHOWS UP. He's rafting down the river on his raft, surviving the apocalypse, when he hears the baby crying and investigates. And he's all hey, dead woman, baby, well then. He has no idea who the baby is, but that doesn't matter, he's going to try and raise this baby because it's the right thing to do. So he takes the baby and goes back rafting down the river, and somewhere along the line he realizes that this is a Very Special Feminist Greek Jesus baby.

But then he meets up with this other rafter rafting down the river, and he knows that this dude's no good. So he tries to hide who the baby is, but the guy figures it out pretty quickly. But it's like with Circe, this dream has a reoccurring motif of apocalypse turning black and white into grey areas, and the bad dude is like eh, whatever. So Tintin and this guy just raft down the river together for a bit jabbering about old times because apparently Tintin knows this guy because he's his older half brother who was a criminal pre-apocalypse and their mother was an actress. This is my new headcanon.

And then the dream goes into flashback mode of how Tintin ended up rafting down the river alone and I'm going yes I want to know what happened give me the angst, and then just as I'm getting to the good part I wake up enough for the dream to stop and I'm all "GOD DAMN IT SON OF A BITCH WHAT ABOUT SNOWY AND THE CAPTAIN??!!!"

Then I roll back over and fall back asleep, and next I know I'm dreaming that I'm in class and I'm watching my dream on my laptop and showing it to my classmates??? Only it's missing the part where Wonder Woman and Co. are trading with Circe so I explain that that happened, and then I get to the flashback and the video ends and one of my classmates is all, "But what happens next?" and I'm like, "I KNOW RIGHT??!!!"

That is the worst part about dreams. The fucking cliffhangers. I'm getting worked up just thinking about it.

getting real tired of your shit LJ

So has anyone else had a phenomenally hard time loading their Friends page properly over the past week?

Dec. 19th, 2012

Back home for break. Time zones are a bitch. On the plus side I got a 3.47 GPA, which is better than I was expecting after a few first-term fuckups. And I'm finding it really hard to not gush about potential spring break adventures (SARA IS THIS STILL A THING THAT CAN HAPPEN?), because if I do my grandmother will lose it and start babbling about money and be Very Disappointed, and I can't anger her when she's footing so much of my school bill.

I have missed being cold. And I have missed rain and snow. And I have missed knowing what the plants and animals are. And I have missed good food. The people I spent Thanksgiving with are not as good cooks as the usual suspects. And I have finally, finally, FINALLY gotten a new pair of winter boots. They haven't arrived yet but there is so much coincidence involved it can't not be fate. I went looking for the same brand as the old ones and surprise! They have a model called the Ellery boot. Shit=lost. And then, to top it all off, they had one pair left in my size in the color I wanted. If these boots don't fit I will be very disappointed in chance. I have also acquired a red sweater and some grey dress pants. I just need a blazer and my Ellery Queen costume will be complete. And then there's also this gorgeous vintage dress, at least 50, probably over 60 years old.

So I got in Saturday afternoon, and then that evening I went to Hobbit. It was... mmm. It was paced like a book, which would work if it was a book but it's a movie. So, definitely a bit slow. Sylvester McCoy was perfect though. Absolutely. And of course my exhaustion led to some very bizarre dreams. Detective Conan meets the Hobbit set in this weird Minecraft-like world. Gandalf was this senile old wizard that Saruman was keeping on a tight leash, and Kaito was trying to get him back out into the world but Gandalf was actually legitimately unstable so he always ended up raising enough of a fuss for Saruman to come running and berate Kaito. And Saruman and Nakamori were working together to catch Kaito Kid. And there was this movie that had a jet pack hang glider in it, and Kaito just dropped hints around Saruman that it would be super cool if it really existed, so Saruman built it and then Kaito stole it. Meanwhile Shinichi and Heiji were roommates at 221b, and Shinichi had somehow come into posession of the One Ring. Shinichi ended up helping Kaito and at one point gave him the Ring to help him escape unseen. Heiji meanwhile was all "you guys are crazy" and just sort of existed in the background, and the only times he really raised a fuss was when Kaito decided to fuck with Shinichi because Kaito.
Back home, I felt like I could be open about not being interested in sex but I couldn't talk about comic books.

Here I feel like I can talk about comic books but not be open about not being interested in sex.

Oct. 7th, 2012

Long overdue for a post about school, and since I'm supposed to be doing homework now is as good a time as any.

(hurr hurr hurr I'm such a good student.)

Not enjoying dorm life. The architect was under the delusion that bare concrete is stylish, so the overall impression is that of a high-rise prison. Also not enjoying my floor mates. The engineering majors are full of image-obsessed girly girls, who knew? One of the other screenwriters joked that there must be a secret engineering degree in prostitution (it was a guy).

As for the others in my major, there's twelve of us freshmen and we pretty much have all our classes together. Which is good in some ways, bad in others. Like the guy (who made the prostitution joke) who I like well enough but spend most of my time around him wanting to punch him. Direct quote: "There's no such thing as feminism. Women don't want to be treated equal, they just want to be treated better." He got mad when he stood up and I refused to take his seat. He's irritatingly chauvinistic and makes a lot of black jokes around this other girl. I've been trying to subtly call him out on it, but I can't tell if she honestly doesn't mind or is just going along with it because she's used to it so I'm afraid to straight up tell him to shut his pie hole. It's tempting though because even if she isn't insulted I'm insulted for her. I've never really been open about my asexuality but if it came up I'd say it, but around him I'm not so sure. I swear I'm going to end up breaking his nose before the year is over.

I like most of my classes. Except goddamn Film History. Four hours of sitting in a classroom listen to a professor who says 'right' a ridiculous amount talk and show film clips. 150-odd times in the first half-hour last class, 12 in the last five minutes. There's verbal ticks, and then there's that. He also laughs a lot, but called me out for laughing. Not my fault The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari=Dr. Calamari=either The Cabinet of Doc Ock or vampire squid. Next class I'm going to bring a large bag of small candy and have a Professor Wolmart Says Right drinking game.

On another topic, here's the thing: there are like seven black people back home. Philadelphia's just a bit different. But what really surprised me? Everyone in the service industry here is black. Cooks, cashiers, cleaning people. The only place I've seen so far where this isn't the case is waiters in fancy restaurants. It's not that they're mostly black with a couple Asians or white people or what have you, it's all of them. Really surprising, in a really not good way.

In short, the past few weeks have been really eye-opening about the world and have made me want to punch a white male heterosexual baby.
So I've already spent about a hundred dollars on books, and none of them are textbooks.

Yesterday was spent in New York (AAAHHHHHH! WICKED!) and I ended up in a Kinokuniya. I was all "Ooh! I'm gonna look for Detective Conan!" and so I went up to the third floor and they had a display table full of Conan right at the top of the escalator. And not just the regular manga, they also had some movie manga, novels, those science book thingies, some Magic Kaito, pretty much at least one of everything. They even had two CDs, but they were 45 bucks each. I came away with Vol. 70, Gosho Aoyama's Short Stories, and the Detective Conan TV and Movie 15th Memorial book. Basically? It's a selection of the best cases ever. We have The Trembling Police Headquarters: 12 Million Hostages, The Desperate Revival, The Haunted Ghost Ship, the New York case, and finally the Moonlight Sonata.

Today I found a Barnes and Noble and got the novelized version of Shada, Douglas Adams' unfilmed Doctor Who script, and the third book in The Looking Glass Wars. And then and then and then jackpot! Mom asked the cashier there if they knew of a second-hand bookstore around and they directed us to Whodunit which is not just mysteries, but ahaaahahahhhhhhhh! I got the original English editions (I think) of The Exploits of Arsene Lupin and The Hollow Needle, and the original editions of Ellery Queen's Double, Double, Ten Days' Wonder, Calamity Town, and The Origin of Evil. The only one I don't already have in cheap paperback is Ten Days' Wonder, but by cheap paperback I mean those awful Double Mysteries with typos up the wazoo, and Double, Double with the awful misleading red herring summary. They also had the original edition of The Tragedy of X but it was fifty bucks, so. Proves that the guy knows his stuff however because the Drury Lane novels were written under Barnaby Ross not Ellery Queen, but it was with the other Queens.

Tomorrow I move into the dorm, and then things really get rolling.
So the Elementary pilot was up on Vimeo for a bit but now it's been taken down so I don't have a link to provide. Maybe you can find it somewhere else. Anyway, obvious spoilers.

Elementary had so many problems. There were parts that were good, but there were parts that made me gag. There were parts that lived up to every cliche bad Sherlock Holmes adaptation, and there were parts that just plain didn't make sense. For instance, the actual mystery? Was utter crap. It was an abomination of the genre with loose ends all over the place.

[The "mystery" that leaked more than a broken colander]
So there's this woman who's murdered in her apartment and hidden in a secret safe room. It's secret, and it's not the kind of thing the murderer could just stumble across. First suspect, her husband, claims to not know that it existed. Okay, questionable. But then it turns out that he didn't kill her, it was the guy who delivered flowers once a week. Question: how the fuck did he know about the safe room? Another question: why did the woman even have it put in? There was squat in it except her body and a small table with a vase on it. It wasn't a tiny thing that you might hide jewelry in, it was the size of a small bathroom. What possible purpose does that serve?

Another thing: the clue that revealed that she knew her attacker was that there were two broken glasses. Why would she suddenly decide to invite the flower delivery guy in for a drink? Not buying it. And finally, the case of the missing cell phone. It had been sitting in that bag of rice for three days before the husband killed the delivery guy. A simple Google search reveals that using rice to dry out electronics takes at least 12 hours, sometimes up to 3 days. Here's the thing: the guy was constantly using his phone. He'd be regularly checking that bag of rice to see if his phone worked again yet. You can see how belief is stretched.

And then there's the part where the doctor husband used the delivery guy's mental disorders to manipulate him into killing his wife, which, wow. I don't know what to say about that. It's a little bit disgusting and insulting and... words are failing me right now but yeah. Deeply disappointing. Arkham Asylum-levels of "People with mental disorders are all psychotic killers!"


[Making police stupid so Sherlock looks clever]
And then there's the stupid police. In particular, the guy who tried waaaay too hard to be Donovan+Anderson. How did that guy even get a badge? Graduate high school? The thing about Donovan, Anderson, and the rest is that they're good police, they're just not as clever as Sherlock Holmes. So many things Sherlock noticed, any half-competent officer should have noticed for themselves. The blood in the bootprint is basic forensics, the number of glass shards only the tiniest bit more advanced. The picture frames, while not blatantly clues, were also really obvious.


[Sherlock and Joan"s relationship isn"t abou sex-OH LOOK SEX!]
In regards to the prostitute: I was disappointed how it was initially written off as "Sex is disgusting, but it helps my body". That's not how asexuality works. At all. And then at the end, when Joan does her own little deduction that Sherlock's addiction problem was because of a woman and he was lying about not being interested: Fuck. You. Sherlock Holmes is my one example of asexuality in fiction. You do NOT get to take that away from me. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. Asexuality is a thing. It is very much a thing. And if I EVER meet the guy (because it was definitely a guy) who came up with that plot point I'm going to break his nose and make him cry.


And finally, Daddy Bill Holmes? Really? That's the absolute best name you could come up with?

To paraphrase Castle, the writer was no Ellery Queen. He wasn't even an Ellery Queen ghostwriter (and that's really bad).

But what about the milk?

The more I think about yesterday's Doctor Who episode, the more little things start to bug me. At first I thought it was a good episode; not great, not one of those episodes, but good. But then I really started thinking about it.

For starters, how is Skaro there? The Doctor blew it up, in fact the destruction of Skaro was probably what triggered the Time War. And secondly, what was with the Council of the Daleks? It was mostly old-style, with a little new, but they were all destroyed too. What were a few new Daleks doing with the old Daleks?

[And then it gets spoilery]
A possible answer is that this takes place in the past, before the Time War from the Dalek's point of view. But that doesn't work because it ends with the Doctor being erased from the Daleks' memory banks. It can't be from near the beginning of the Daleks because then they wouldn't have enough history with the Doctor. It could be that afterwards Davros put the knowledge of the Doctor back in, but then that would just make the whole thing a pointless plot device.

And then there are the few future Daleks. The only explanation I can possibly come up with is that a few new Daleks went back in Dalek history to help the old Daleks fuck shit up. But why? The whole thing reeks of timey-wimey, but the thing about timey-wimey is that it has to be obviously timey-wimey. If it doesn't make even the slightest bit of sense until you think about it for a bit and then realize that there's something going on, then it doesn't work. River Song works because we know her timeline's screwy. Series 6 worked because we knew from the start that mindfuckery was going down. This doesn't work because it's not being pointed out to us, they're just there.


Overall, on the surface it works. Not as a series opener, but it works. Then you scratch the surface, and the whole thing starts to fall apart. The only possible explanation is that there's more going on, that part of it has to do with the finale, but it doesn't work because it's not obvious enough. It doesn't give us any hints to puzzle over, it just leaves us puzzled. "He will knock four times" worked because you knew that was going to be important. Bad Wolf worked because it was just two words scattered through the episodes that then get pointed out near the end. This? This doesn't work.

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