kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Shut the Fuck Up)
Latest from the Schadenfreude Gazette
Of all the many aspects of this story which make my mouth try on interesting shapes to explore, I find the picture of most note:   Conrad Black - whose name graces the cutline of said picture - might also be ... bemused. Yes. Yes, we shall go with bemused ....

For it, indeed .... )

kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Shut the Fuck Up)
Latest from the Schadenfreude Gazette
Of all the many aspects of this story which make my mouth try on interesting shapes to explore, I find the picture of most note:   Conrad Black - whose name graces the cutline of said picture - might also be ... bemused. Yes. Yes, we shall go with bemused ....

For it, indeed .... )

kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Jae's heaven)
Anime - Surreal High Theater of Two Dimensions in Three,
or Art Form from Planet Sideways?
Discuss.
     Because there are times I just sit and ask nanda hell, you know?
    Believe me, I adore a lot of anime. Just ask folks around me. I have for years. I love a lot of Japanese cinema, both high and low, and Japanese art,  too, but there's a special place in my heart for painted moving pictures from the mysterious and often-weird-to-my-stolidly-British-Canadian-cum-American-Midwestern eyes.
     I was delighted a couple of years ago when I talked one of my editors into letting me do a package of stories on anime (and manga, yes, I know manga started first, and I know its historical provenance, and I like reading Bleach almost as much as I like watching Ichigo and Inoue and Chad and Ishida kick massive butt in episodes 1 through 189 - uh, where was I?)
    Right. Anime. Quite simply, I love it.
    I love the diversity of artistic styles, I love the colors. I love the music (BB got all the Bleach opening and closing songs yesterday! W00t! Happy People!)
     I love all the iterations of the many near-archetypical and insanely stylized story lines, the equally archetypical and insanely stylized characters. I love mecha. I love Teenage Heroes. I love feudal Japan. I love impossible physics that allow gorgeously choreographed fights and the sublime beauty of strange imagery, whether it's wind, or birds, oceans, mountains, cherry blossoms, and moonlight.
     I love the trainwreck mashups of intense and surprisingly adult emotional stories, blood-drenched violence, bathroom humor, fanservice, and -- oh, everything. Flying battleships and heroes dying on crosses wound about with roses ... Buster Keaton as Lear on crystal meth, with Bluebottle, Jesus Christ, Faust and the Katzenjammer kids trying to find Sophia and Justice and freedom from the bomb in all the places the universe offers as stages.
    (And don't think there aren't women on stage. Don't mess with anime women: not the Babes, not the Madonnas, not the Assassins, not the Mothers, nor the Sisters, nor the Lovers, nor the Scientists, nor the Cyborg Cops, nor the Queens. Or the Insurance Adjusters. Don't ever mess with the Insurance Adjuster Women.)
    But sometimes ... sometimes, when I'm watching warring high schools with legions of toxically lethal 14-year-old warriors, with no adults in sight, with freshmen who turn into dragons when their glasses break, and casual talk of reincarnated war chiefs eating dogs in the basement ....
   Sometimes you just have to say WTF, y'all. You know?

*And, no, Miyazaki's stuff is not anime, not as such. It's brilliant, but it's not what's croggling me here. Just so you know.

kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Jae's heaven)
Anime - Surreal High Theater of Two Dimensions in Three,
or Art Form from Planet Sideways?
Discuss.
     Because there are times I just sit and ask nanda hell, you know?
    Believe me, I adore a lot of anime. Just ask folks around me. I have for years. I love a lot of Japanese cinema, both high and low, and Japanese art,  too, but there's a special place in my heart for painted moving pictures from the mysterious and often-weird-to-my-stolidly-British-Canadian-cum-American-Midwestern eyes.
     I was delighted a couple of years ago when I talked one of my editors into letting me do a package of stories on anime (and manga, yes, I know manga started first, and I know its historical provenance, and I like reading Bleach almost as much as I like watching Ichigo and Inoue and Chad and Ishida kick massive butt in episodes 1 through 189 - uh, where was I?)
    Right. Anime. Quite simply, I love it.
    I love the diversity of artistic styles, I love the colors. I love the music (BB got all the Bleach opening and closing songs yesterday! W00t! Happy People!)
     I love all the iterations of the many near-archetypical and insanely stylized story lines, the equally archetypical and insanely stylized characters. I love mecha. I love Teenage Heroes. I love feudal Japan. I love impossible physics that allow gorgeously choreographed fights and the sublime beauty of strange imagery, whether it's wind, or birds, oceans, mountains, cherry blossoms, and moonlight.
     I love the trainwreck mashups of intense and surprisingly adult emotional stories, blood-drenched violence, bathroom humor, fanservice, and -- oh, everything. Flying battleships and heroes dying on crosses wound about with roses ... Buster Keaton as Lear on crystal meth, with Bluebottle, Jesus Christ, Faust and the Katzenjammer kids trying to find Sophia and Justice and freedom from the bomb in all the places the universe offers as stages.
    (And don't think there aren't women on stage. Don't mess with anime women: not the Babes, not the Madonnas, not the Assassins, not the Mothers, nor the Sisters, nor the Lovers, nor the Scientists, nor the Cyborg Cops, nor the Queens. Or the Insurance Adjusters. Don't ever mess with the Insurance Adjuster Women.)
    But sometimes ... sometimes, when I'm watching warring high schools with legions of toxically lethal 14-year-old warriors, with no adults in sight, with freshmen who turn into dragons when their glasses break, and casual talk of reincarnated war chiefs eating dogs in the basement ....
   Sometimes you just have to say WTF, y'all. You know?

*And, no, Miyazaki's stuff is not anime, not as such. It's brilliant, but it's not what's croggling me here. Just so you know.

kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (idalek)
Boxing, Tossing, Pitching and Bitching.
Tomorrow, with deadline over, I start packing up my years of freedom into two large plastic rent-a-bins.  I have indicated how much this displeases me in previous kvetches and will, therefore, keep this one short. I'd say oh, about three sentences.
kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (idalek)
Boxing, Tossing, Pitching and Bitching.
Tomorrow, with deadline over, I start packing up my years of freedom into two large plastic rent-a-bins.  I have indicated how much this displeases me in previous kvetches and will, therefore, keep this one short. I'd say oh, about three sentences.
kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Nine burns)
The Moon is Pale, The Moon is Dark
But there's the sun out there, all unimaginable size and light, explosion and heat, gases and gouts of fire, with deep pools of dark moving across its surface. And here we are, at the center of it all, looking at  the moon and the sun, at the two of them on their appointed rounds.

Sometimes it all gets a bit confusing from where we stand. A bit frightening. A bit fascinating. A bit...blue smoke and mirrors, confusion and magic and cosmic prestidigitation.

Sometimes the pale moon turns into a dragon and eats the sun. Sometimes the dark is there when it's not supposed to be, and the birds start singing themselves to sleep because the twilight's telling them to do it. And we're in the center of all things, telling each other about the dragon, and how to defeat it with prayer or promises. And we sing songs about it. We prepare legends, we wonder, and we explore. We write about it, and right ourselves with what we create, after the corona flares and subsides, and the dragon moves away, defeated, and the gouts of gas that would incinerate us passionlessly if we got too close, well, they come back and everything's just fine again.

All the myths and legends, all the beauty and terror of seeing the pale moon triumph...it all depends upon us being at the center of it all.

All the knowledge, though; all the true, beautiful, depressing and uplifting knowledge about the pale moon and the dangerous sun? That all depends on us knowing where we really are.

It's a bit prickly and depressing, that knowledge. It's a bit like something precious and cold - or hot, I'm not sure which - that we have to hold, even though it hurts us. It's like a gift that we didn't expect, that's two sizes too big, a mirror that makes us too small, a picture we're not able to look at, or look away from, a little statuette of disquieting power, a book with uncomfortable poetry on leaves of paper that cut our fingers. It's something that's all angles and edges and brilliance and immediacy.

We love all that, we humans. We hate it with a passion.

(Center of the universe? She can't mean that, can she? Of course I don't. And of course I do. We are at the center, you know -  just check that GPS in your head or your heart and it's telling you the universe is centered right on you, so don't quote science at me. Science is right, but I'm true. And that's perfect rubbish, of course. I'm a modern girl, I am, and I know where I live in this universe.)

And here I am, at the end of it. Don't mind me. I'm in a bit of a mood tonight. Most of you probably have already enjoyed this, but I thought I'd invite you to watch  the dragon and the pale moon, if you hadn't. 
kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Nine burns)
The Moon is Pale, The Moon is Dark
But there's the sun out there, all unimaginable size and light, explosion and heat, gases and gouts of fire, with deep pools of dark moving across its surface. And here we are, at the center of it all, looking at  the moon and the sun, at the two of them on their appointed rounds.

Sometimes it all gets a bit confusing from where we stand. A bit frightening. A bit fascinating. A bit...blue smoke and mirrors, confusion and magic and cosmic prestidigitation.

Sometimes the pale moon turns into a dragon and eats the sun. Sometimes the dark is there when it's not supposed to be, and the birds start singing themselves to sleep because the twilight's telling them to do it. And we're in the center of all things, telling each other about the dragon, and how to defeat it with prayer or promises. And we sing songs about it. We prepare legends, we wonder, and we explore. We write about it, and right ourselves with what we create, after the corona flares and subsides, and the dragon moves away, defeated, and the gouts of gas that would incinerate us passionlessly if we got too close, well, they come back and everything's just fine again.

All the myths and legends, all the beauty and terror of seeing the pale moon triumph...it all depends upon us being at the center of it all.

All the knowledge, though; all the true, beautiful, depressing and uplifting knowledge about the pale moon and the dangerous sun? That all depends on us knowing where we really are.

It's a bit prickly and depressing, that knowledge. It's a bit like something precious and cold - or hot, I'm not sure which - that we have to hold, even though it hurts us. It's like a gift that we didn't expect, that's two sizes too big, a mirror that makes us too small, a picture we're not able to look at, or look away from, a little statuette of disquieting power, a book with uncomfortable poetry on leaves of paper that cut our fingers. It's something that's all angles and edges and brilliance and immediacy.

We love all that, we humans. We hate it with a passion.

(Center of the universe? She can't mean that, can she? Of course I don't. And of course I do. We are at the center, you know -  just check that GPS in your head or your heart and it's telling you the universe is centered right on you, so don't quote science at me. Science is right, but I'm true. And that's perfect rubbish, of course. I'm a modern girl, I am, and I know where I live in this universe.)

And here I am, at the end of it. Don't mind me. I'm in a bit of a mood tonight. Most of you probably have already enjoyed this, but I thought I'd invite you to watch  the dragon and the pale moon, if you hadn't. 

Department of Boring

Thursday, 24 July 2008 11:57 pm
kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Blogging)
Chicken and Acetone
    That got your attention, didn't it? Silly people, I don't mix chicken and acetone.
    Much.
    I'm beginning to think that my happiest times - or at least some of my very happiest times - are spent in the kitchen. (This may be a clue to my rather sub-optimally elastic waistline, but I shall diligently avoid thinking about that.) And, while most of my kitchen time is spent baking, I occasionally venture into the land of the savory and meatlike, too. Tonight, on a whim, I tried chicken paprikash, and it worked. BB and FB both liked it, so I'll add it to the "what I can whip up in an hour" supper dishes.
    And in other, equally mundane, news. I've just discovered that I can taste acetone on my lips, hours after having used the stuff to remove 11 years of city sticker glue from the windshield of our new old car. The previous owners hadn't done that, and we wanted a fresh start for the newest sticker, one that wouldn't actually impede our view of the road. I kept the car door open whilst I did the work, and I put the open bottle of acetone (just fingernail polish-removing strength, not the kind one would find in a paint store) on the curb next to the car, not in the car with me, but apparently that wasn't enough to keep the fumes from settling on my skin. Interesting.
    I didn't notice it until after supper, which either means that the chicken paprikash had the power to repel noisome chemicals, or it actually attracted the stuff to my lips.
    And there you have it. Chicken. And Acetone.

Link, linkety-link

Wednesday, 18 June 2008 11:55 pm
kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Blogging)
For Your Delectation, Delight and/or Bemused Incomprehension

....all of which I experienced when I visited these pages.

Thanks to cutecouple and [personal profile] heatherbelles over on TWoP for the first two. The third is something I ran across as part of my job, and I'm interested in other people's response to it. Me, I like the idea of reunions, because the one and only reunion I ever attended was one of the most positive things I've experienced in my life when it comes to my school days. Any thoughts, y'all?

1) Dairy delight at Amazon (I understand it's been a matter of amusement in the New York Times since 2006, but I don't mind being a day late and a dollar short.)

2) Those wacky Welsh

3) But can you hug someone you haven't hugged in years on Facebook?

Link, linkety-link

Wednesday, 18 June 2008 11:55 pm
kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Blogging)
For Your Delectation, Delight and/or Bemused Incomprehension

....all of which I experienced when I visited these pages.

Thanks to cutecouple and [personal profile] heatherbelles over on TWoP for the first two. The third is something I ran across as part of my job, and I'm interested in other people's response to it. Me, I like the idea of reunions, because the one and only reunion I ever attended was one of the most positive things I've experienced in my life when it comes to my school days. Any thoughts, y'all?

1) Dairy delight at Amazon (I understand it's been a matter of amusement in the New York Times since 2006, but I don't mind being a day late and a dollar short.)

2) Those wacky Welsh

3) But can you hug someone you haven't hugged in years on Facebook?

Placeholder

Wednesday, 11 June 2008 11:37 pm
kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Blogging)
Itch in the Head, Vision in the Corner of the Eye
Have you ever realized, with a great start, that you were vibrating, resonating with molecules and electrons all around you, in a way that you found quite uncomfortable? That it was making you aware of something that you needed to do, or some way you needed to move your arms and legs, or that it was making your eyesight just a little bit off?

Just me, then?

Placeholder

Wednesday, 11 June 2008 11:37 pm
kaffy_r: The TARDIS says hello (Blogging)
Itch in the Head, Vision in the Corner of the Eye
Have you ever realized, with a great start, that you were vibrating, resonating with molecules and electrons all around you, in a way that you found quite uncomfortable? That it was making you aware of something that you needed to do, or some way you needed to move your arms and legs, or that it was making your eyesight just a little bit off?

Just me, then?

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