July 11th, 2006


Found objects.

I'm presently much, much too sleepy to be particularly articulate, but I will say that I liked Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest quite a lot, even more than the first film. Byron met us at the googleplex, temporarily setting aside his vow to never again watch a film in anyway associated with Jerry Bruckheimer. Of course, my favourite part of the whole affair was Davy Jones and his crew, and the Kraken. I suppose that goes without saying. And I was so enchanted by Naomie Harris' swamp witch, Tia Dalma, that she almost overwhelmed my notorous Jack Sparrow fetish. Great fun, all round, and stunning visuals. I would pay to see it again in the theatre. These days, that's one of the highest compliments I can pay a movie. And I'm very much looking forward to the third film.

I promised photos of the "pet sematary" shrine thing that we stumbled upon yesterday evening, and here they are (behind the cut). Unfortunately, we didn't get a shot of the whole thing, just the major arcana. I think there must have been at least ten figures in all. It was an oval, enclosed in wrought iron, maybe three feet across at its widest point.

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Shine On You Crazy Diamond

Syd Barrett is dead. Personally, I've always much preferred the post-Barret phase of Pink Floyd and never had much interest in psychedelia. But still. Syd Barrett's dead. I don't know. It's just frelling weird.

Today was a bit of a trainwreck, and yet I still managed to finish "The Cryomancer's Daughter (Murder Ballad No. 3)." I did 1,679 words between 12:30 and 4 o'clock this afternoon and finally reached THE END. I can only hope that Sirenia Digest readers like it half as much as I do. At 7,080 words, I think we can safely call this one a full-fledged short story. It's certainly not a vignette. It's stuck somewhere between being a fairy tale and a ghost story and something else entirely. But yes, I'm pleased with it. Afterwards, I had to go over all the Alabaster pages one last time before it goes to the printer, and decide on the cloth and foil colours for the book's cover. The cloth will be the same "oatmeal" that was used for the trade of Frog Toes and Tentacles, and the foil ink will be some shade of pink. Yes, pink. If it doesn't work the way I hope it will, I have only myself to blame.

Meanwhile, Spooky was stuck at a garage on Moreland, having about a thousand things done to the car before we head for Rhode Island. She was there five and a half hours, during which time she endured a television that blared talk shows and Judge Judy, and she read four issues of Time and an undetermined number of People, but all she seems to recall is that Jessie "Monster Garage" James and Sandra Bullock are married. Which is to say, she had a very crappy day.

Last night after the movie, we stopped at one of our favourite Thai places, and Gray Gunter very politely introduced himself and told me that he'd e-mailed me that very afternoon. Home again, I discovered that Gray is a man of his word. He writes:

As a paleontologist I was wondering if you'd seen this article on Ann Coulter's "facts" about evolution in Godless. And if possibly reading them has given you a small stroke.

Here's the link to the Media Matters article.

To which I can only reply that, as a paleontologist, I have just about as much interest in Ann Coulter's views on evolutionary biology as a brain surgeon should have in, oh, let's say Oprah Winfrey's views on neurophysiology or as an astrophysicist might have in Paris Hilton's thoughts on cosmology. Which is to say, I could not possibly care less, as Ann Coulter's thoughts on the subject are, at best, entirely irrelevant to the science in question. Well, other than fanning the flames of the so-called "intelligent design" silliness and instilling doubt in scientifically illiterate people. She's done nothing more than trot out the same old creationist boondoggles, and anyone who takes her seriously deserves to be boondoggled or were boondoggled to start with. I have several very choice adjectives which fit Ms. Coulter quite well, but shall refrain this night from using them. Still...it was nice to meet Gray in person and hope perhaps to do so again.

Meanwhile, I must face the busy days ahead. On that foul note — Poppy, it's still there: