Comments, they do a body good.
Here in Providence, our weirdly "warm" winter (well, pre-winter, late autumn) continues. Presently 46˚F. Miserable, but hardly cold by Providence standards. Bright and sunny. Leafless trees.
On Wednesday, I wrote 1,464 words on Black Helicopters. Yesterday, 1,869 words. There is some possibility that I may finish the novella today, and if not, then tomorrow for certain. I have quite a lot to get done before Monday, when my vacation begins – my genuine vacation – which will extend until January 2nd...or 3rd. I need to get Sirenia Digest #84 out first, though, and that will likely happen on Sunday. I also have to get some work done on one of the Alabaster: Boxcar Tales scripts. But all these things have to be done by Monday. Long weekend. Sadly, it will not also be lost, not in that merciful Charles R. Jackson sense of "lost weekend." Likely I will be sober. Well, at least during the daylight hours. I make no promises after sunset.
My thanks to Brit Mandelo and Niall Alexander, who have both chosen The Drowning Girl: A Memoir as their favorite book of 2012, over at Tor.com. You can read the article here. Note, Mr. Alexander is the same Mr. Alexander spoken of in my entry of December 12th, that speculative Scotsman who left me flattered, but baffled.
And, changing the subject, touching on a pet peeve...why the fuck is everyone so goddamned obsessed with community? Whatever happened to a simple and loose assemblage individuals given to cooperation in certain prescribed circumstances? I say, fuck desires for community. Double fuck the bizarre longing for tribes. Worse still, and more laughable, the belief that tribes can be created and fostered on the internet. Also, while we're at it, while I am raining down condemnation, fuck Camille Paglia. Just because. She pisses me off. Always has, always will. I get that way about academic phonies and charlatans. No communities of delusion. No sham tribes. No pseudo-intellectuals. Also, no Justin Bieber. Thank you. My spleen feels much better now.
Later, kittens.
Righteous,
Aunt Beast
Postscript: Please note that I am not a bad person. I am a wicked (yet righteous) person.
Here in Providence, our weirdly "warm" winter (well, pre-winter, late autumn) continues. Presently 46˚F. Miserable, but hardly cold by Providence standards. Bright and sunny. Leafless trees.
On Wednesday, I wrote 1,464 words on Black Helicopters. Yesterday, 1,869 words. There is some possibility that I may finish the novella today, and if not, then tomorrow for certain. I have quite a lot to get done before Monday, when my vacation begins – my genuine vacation – which will extend until January 2nd...or 3rd. I need to get Sirenia Digest #84 out first, though, and that will likely happen on Sunday. I also have to get some work done on one of the Alabaster: Boxcar Tales scripts. But all these things have to be done by Monday. Long weekend. Sadly, it will not also be lost, not in that merciful Charles R. Jackson sense of "lost weekend." Likely I will be sober. Well, at least during the daylight hours. I make no promises after sunset.
My thanks to Brit Mandelo and Niall Alexander, who have both chosen The Drowning Girl: A Memoir as their favorite book of 2012, over at Tor.com. You can read the article here. Note, Mr. Alexander is the same Mr. Alexander spoken of in my entry of December 12th, that speculative Scotsman who left me flattered, but baffled.
And, changing the subject, touching on a pet peeve...why the fuck is everyone so goddamned obsessed with community? Whatever happened to a simple and loose assemblage individuals given to cooperation in certain prescribed circumstances? I say, fuck desires for community. Double fuck the bizarre longing for tribes. Worse still, and more laughable, the belief that tribes can be created and fostered on the internet. Also, while we're at it, while I am raining down condemnation, fuck Camille Paglia. Just because. She pisses me off. Always has, always will. I get that way about academic phonies and charlatans. No communities of delusion. No sham tribes. No pseudo-intellectuals. Also, no Justin Bieber. Thank you. My spleen feels much better now.
Later, kittens.
Righteous,
Aunt Beast
Postscript: Please note that I am not a bad person. I am a wicked (yet righteous) person.
- Current Location:Frogmorton
- Current Mood:
Wash us all away. - Current Music:How to Destroy Angels, "Ice Age"

Comments
Well damn, there goes my idea for a Cthulhumas dinner...
Well damn, there goes my idea for a Cthulhumas dinner...
If cannibalism is involved, you have my blessings.
I do like having a sounding-board and/or series of other like-minded individuals to liaise with...even unalike-minded, if we can agree on whatever it is we're doing or discussing at the time.
That's different.
Also, how would you differentiate a pseudo-intellectual from a real one?
Where was your title quote taken from?
Radioheads "Exit Music for a Film," which was written for Baz Luhrman's Romeo + Juliet.
Also, how would you differentiate a pseudo-intellectual from a real one?
I haven't time just now to write an essay, as an essay would be required for the explanation. Though, I wish I did have the time. Of course, I could simply point point out that Paglia is a moron with spouting nonsense, and be done with it.
It's very well deserved.
Double fuck the bizarre longing for tribes.
I don't know: I've never had one. I have people I make connections with, one by one. The real ones are rare. If I have more than one person I can trust as much as another, I'm lucky. But I don't think of them as my people. I ran into this when I first started going to conventions. No, actually, we just read some of the same books.
I'm glad to hear vacation is going to happen.
The real ones are rare. If I have more than one person I can trust as much as another, I'm lucky.
I ran into this when I first started going to conventions. No, actually, we just read some of the same books.
One of the groups the concept is very popular with, I have found, is convention goers.
I'm glad to hear vacation is going to happen.
It may save my life. Not hyperbole. Wish I could see you.
If you're on vacation till the 3rd, I don't see why you shouldn't.
"Community?"
"The Intelligence Field."
"'Community...!' Boy you people are kind to yourselves. Community!"
Every time I hear the word "community" I keep thinking of Robert Redford and Cliff Robertson's conversation in Three Days of the Condor
Nice.
because god knows she can't mention anything without pimping her friggin' book.
Yup.
Agreed, Paglia looks like a (transphobic) jerk.
Good luck with Black Helicopters.
Agreed, Paglia looks like a (transphobic) jerk.
Gods, I didn't even bring that up. Of course, this is the general attitude among the latest crop of "feminists."
The maximum shibboleth.
Damn. That's a good line.
I've noticed that the tendency to need 'community' or similar tight-knit groups seems to be negatively correlated with frequency of moves - the more frequently individuals move around, the less likely they are to need or establish those types of associations. No way of knowing if it's merely correlation or if there's a cause-effect relationship. IMO, insularity is not a positive.
Interesting....
I used to live in the SF Bay Area, where Camille Paglia was a constant staple for TV interviews and commentary. Horrid woman. But oddly needy, too. She'd make statements like, "I'm a strong, independent woman... OKAY?" or "I believe (whatever)... OKAY?" Always asking for some kind of permission or verification, even though it sounded aggressive and confident. I could do without ever hearing about her again. Ugh!
The "loner" is an object of suspicion.
A desire for privacy is "anti-social."
Is someone abusing the term “community” lately?
Community, tribe, family, bleach....
We just have better war waging tools than they do.
We just have better war waging tools than they do.
Fact.
I've been lucky to have friends- most quite different from me, but good people. They help make the journey easier- someone to play pool with, get drunk and laugh, ease the awkwardness of going to a gay bar and trying to seem cool... someone to talk to.
That being said, avoid Tribes at all costs- they tend to want to kill you because you think differently than them- Ohh, you worship the moon instead of the sun? I must bash your skull in... You can take that metaphorically or literally...
And so say we (or at least me) all.