Announcing the Livejournal Experiment

This week, instead of blogging here, I'm going to try out a Livejournal blog. You can access it here: air_and_angels. I apologise for the extra click this will require from people wanting to read my blog during this week; I'm doing it to decide whether to change over to LJ fully. I suppose a lot will depend on whether I get any comments; that's the LJ feature that mostly appeals to me.

This evening we're going to meet Amy at the Viaduct Basin and have dinner somewhere nice - hopefully that good Italian restaurant whose name I can never remember and my father always wants me to talk Italian to the waiters, who are obviously New Zealand schoolboys and would not have a clue what I meant.

I am revolving in my mind whether I want to switch over to blogging at livejournal. I have a faddish enthusiasm for the icons/avatars, the moodkitties and the comments feature. Heck, I can always try it out and abandon it if it's no improvement. N'est-ce pas?

(See, I know some French too.)

The Badness has now entered a vaguely Raiders of the Lost Ark/Cigars of the Pharaoh phase. I do get a goofy enjoyment out of coming up with plot twists for the unfortunate jigglykat to have to follow up on, and writing a serial with no discernible climax in sight. Because it's *me* I just have to have an element of mopeyslash about the ridiculous little affair we've written between Cap'n Jack Sparrow and Legolas the elf; Legolas was initially just after a bit of rough but is dismayed to find he thinks he's fallen in love but can't expect Jack to feel the same way. Cue Legolas getting weepy drunk and listening to 'Brandy.'

We make a virtue of our anachronisms *^.^*

This evening (Saturday) both Kate and my parents went off to different barbecues, so I had a three-initial night in - KFC and DVD. Although I didn't go into the store with this as a plan, I ended up having a Two Faces of Ian Holm Double Feature. One thing I like about Ian Holm as an actor is that the roles he has played have been so varied in moral character that whenever he first appears on screen in a movie, unless you've had spoilers you are on a knife edge between 'Oh good, it's nice Ian Holm' and 'It's Ian Holm, for God's sake don't trust him!' Tonight I had him as dear, bumbling Father Vito Cornelius... and Jack the Ripper. Because I hadn't read the book From Hell before I first saw the movie, the way the Hughes Brothers refitted the plot as a whodunnit totally worked for me. I didn't know for sure Gull was the baddie until Johnny Depp did. Ironically, I think that reading the book second actually works better for one's enjoyment; normally I argue just the opposite. The movie is a very free-handed adaptation - as I mentioned, it's framed as a whodunnit, whereas in the book you know the identity of the (fictionalised) Ripper from the outset, and rather than using suspense, the story derives its fascination from a vivid, disturbing and satisfying creation of the mind of a brilliant serial murderer who thinks of himself as a sorceror. Depp's character Abberline in the film is actually a synthesis of the book's Abberline and another character, the psychic Robert Lees, who thinks he is a charlatan who makes up his predictions but inadvertently divines the truth. The opium and absinthe business was made up of whole cloth, and if they'd cast according to the book, Robbie Coltrane would have played Abberline. From seeing the movie, coming to the book means you discover multiple new layers of plot, character, complexity and imagination; from the story portion of the book you move to Alan Moore's extensive and masterful appendices which detail his research and decision-making as a storyteller (he chose one of the least probable but most romantic Ripper theories as the basis of his tale, because it's the one that works best as a story, and his notes detail what is drawn from the historical record, what is fudged for narrative reasons and what is made up because no record existed), and from there you can go to the exhaustive Casebook site, which provides an overview and details of pretty much everything that is known and thought about the Whitechapel murders.

And then you can sit back and go 'Whoa. People are fucking creepy.'

As a good, perky antidote you can then watch The Fifth Element, something I will do with very little provocation. I remember Nathan Rarere on the radio once saying that the way you could tell a typical/classic Bruce Willis movie was that at the beginning, Bruce was sitting around in a white singlet saying (soft husky Bruce Willis delivery) 'I don't do that any more.' You can tell T5E is not a typical Bruce Willis movie because his singlet is orange. Still a classic. Love the man.

Also, if you are of a certain cast of mind you will find yourself thinking of the implication, in the book From Hell, that Dr Gull's efforts to work blood-magic in order to enchain the renascent moon-power of women and ensure the continued dominion of masculine sun-power created the imbalance that is What's Wrong With The Twentieth Century, those two world wars, Margaret Thatcher and all. Or, given the Fourth Dimension plotline, that Gull is an agent or aspect of a dark power giving birth to itself at that point in time. (The conception of Hitler is part of the story. Yeah, Hitler. Linked to Jack the Ripper. You want to read the book now, don't you?) Well! says Sarah, late at night and hopped up on KFC, just like 'Mister Shadow' in T5E. And Leeloo, a woman empowered by elemental magic and love, kicks his ass. Balance restored. Muaha.

Yeah, it's late, but I had fun.

Welp, today Kate and Rebecca have gone to The Big Day Out at Ericsson Stadium, and I've got to go round to Steward Motors at some stage to get my new headlamp. I hope it isn't terribly expensive.

And I don't know what else to expect from today. Tonight on Stars in Their Eyes some dude who looks like a Bee Gee is going to try to do David Bowie. I will probably be at home watching it. Enough said.

One reason I wish I could fast-forward to March is that at least my days would have a timetable and a shape again. Yes, I'd have to get up in the morning, but that would be because I had somewhere to go and something to do.

Last night I dreamed that I had found a way to change the title of the thread 'At the end of ROTK: Sam/Frodo hugging' to 'The Badness.' I need something else to dream about!

Jannie's house is clean, and I feel more cheerful. She had two magazines I hadn't read yet so after I did the vacuuming I sat down with a chilled Coke and had a peruse. There was a story about adoption of older children (as opposed to new babies) that gave me a double-take; I recognised the family profiled. I was friends with their older adopted daughter in primary school. She's now a single parent and pre-school teacher. Interesting!

I see Angelina Jolie had a fright recently when the validity of her adoption of a Cambodian child was called into question: apparently the agency she went through has been caught buying children from their poor and desperate parents, then adopting them out at a profit to wealthy do-gooders (who pay handsome fees). What I found most curious in the article was a quote from a Cambodian doctor involved in efforts to trace children adopted overseas under this system: he said 'We've had to rescue children from American and European parents.' Rescue? If the foreign parents adopted them in good faith (the agency had been telling everyone these were sure-enough orphans) and were taking proper care of them, that is hardly the word. I'm not sure what would be appropriate - repossessed, maybe? And should anyone be given back custody of a child they sold, however hard up they were at the time? Apparently, though, some of the children were outright abducted - their mothers were invited to leave them in a daycare centre while they worked or went job-hunting, and when they got back, the kids were gone. That's pretty bloody low.

Anyway, apparently it's been settled that Maddox Jolie is a sure-enough orphan and can keep living with Angelina. So that's all right.

I would just like to say... it is a lot harder for older children to get adopted than it is for babies. Especially when there are siblings who want to stay together. If people want to be really big-hearted and helpful, adopting some of these children from within their own country could be even more noble than adopting an exotic child.

Queenie

What smashing Blackadder character are you?
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Well, my chum Gideon always thought so. But:

Blackadder. You are as cunning as a fox that's just been
appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford
University. You've always got a mischevous idea
and a witty retort ready at hand.

Which enduring Blackadder character are you?
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Now, if only they had used a legible font on the results graphic. Hold on, I'll try to puzzle it out so you don't have to. No sense giving you lovely people eyestrain.

You are Blackadder
Witty, roguish, extremely long-suffering.
You think of plans so cunning you could put tails on them and call them weasels. Whenever a scathing insult, bright idea or slap upside the head is needed, you are there. Your ability to talk your way out of literally any situation comes in handy, as you're often in dire situations surrounded by extremely stupid people. Well, as you once said: Life is unfair.

John F. Kennedy said that too; it's just that life was usually unfair in his favour. It's odd that no-one on Quizilla seems to have thought of doing 'Which Blackadder are you?' The closest I've seen is

The Black Adder. You may not be hugely well known, but you use this
to your advantage. Your sense of humour is kinda strange, but isn't
that a good thing sometimes? All you need to be aware of is that sometimes you
may not be perceived the way you like, but the
people who really count are those who are
prepared to take their time and get to know
you. You're different and unique, and for that, I salute
you!

Which series of Blackadder would you be in? - Pictures and text included but not quite yet finished.
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Which isn't quite the same thing at all.

My cat is a door-opening monkey cat. I just saw her getting into a wardrobe.

I wonder if I should change to Livejournal so people could leave comments. Still, what could they say?

I am delaying getting up this morning. I think I do this so much because it takes the sting out of how little happens once I am actually dressed and ready to do things.

I am going to have to take my car to Steward Motors; one of the headlamps has burned out. But it's not convenient to do it today. I guess I will see about it tomorrow.

Meg just made a clatter and a thump in the wardrobe and shot out going 'MmmmmROW!' I think something happened that she didn't like. I've intermittently referred to the whole LOTR/ROTK fanfarce going on at Nekomusume.net - jigglykat and her cousin refer to it simply as 'The Badness.' (This amuses me because Badness is one of my cat's nicknames.) It's gone from being one of those silly, improvised character dialogues that were always rampant in Nekomusumia to actually having a plot involving a curse and frogs. It continues to include a lot of silly jokes and innuendoes. Sometimes I feel a little proud of it (well, it makes me laugh) and sometimes I can't understand why I'm doing it. It is probably better not to think hard about it as it is by nature very trivial; the problem is that it assumes an unnatural importance because I don't have much non-trivia to occupy me.

Gee, I seem to be depressed again; funny how it creeps up on you.

Yesterday was basically a mission centring around my sister's application to Camp America, and the difficulty of obtaining two professional references from within the last two years as required. Ultimately they had to drive way the hell out to Brown's Bay to find a dude. Fortunately I was left home for that part; I was along on the earlier ride (in order to get lunch) and it's a jolly good thing I had a new book because I was definitely 'they also serve who only stand and wait.' My mother's been knocking her brains out helping Kate get this done, but Kate tends to go mad-dog when I attempt to advise or assist. Part of it is that she's got this complex where, whenever something becomes difficult for her, she thinks 'This wouldn't happen to a NORMAL PERSON! This wouldn't happen to SARAH!' - despite the fact that I am not exactly a byword for normality, even within our own family. So she resents me/hates me/tells me to just shut up shut up SHUT UP or she will HAVE TO HIT ME. Whereupon I tell her to get a grip. Honestly. Psycho rage-virus bitch. The thing is, we don't have to worry at all about her going postal on the kids she minds at camp, because she only does it to her family, and specifically she does it when she is having a problem, wailing about how hard it is, and we try to help. Apparently that's okay in her head. It's like how a dog will bite you when you're trying to get its paw out of a trap, but the dog has the excuse that he doesn't understand cause and effect; he only knows that de-trapping the paw hurts NOW, not that co-operating and letting you do it will result in his paw hurting less soon.

We are not actually fighting much at the moment, but these tendencies in her, which always flare up in times of deadline pressure, really rankle with me because they are so damn' ungrateful. Yes, I get that you don't want to need this much help. I understand how that feels. But do you want to get this done or not? And can you do it without me or Wendy? No? Then be civil!

*sigh*

I also have a bit of a thing about not asking for help, but only in a specialised area; I don't want to ask for help with academic essays because I feel that if I didn't do all the brainwork myself it doesn't count for much. I have caved and sought assistance sometimes, when really pressed. Usually I just get told 'That's okay, you're on the right track anyway.' But in any other field, I never really have a problem with asking, perhaps to the extent that other people think I'm a bit useless or lack initiative. Well, whatever; I'm with Ricky Nelson on this one.

That is, you can't please everyone so you've got to please yourself.

I'll be cleaning Jannie's house again today; don't have any other plans. Ho-hum. Roll on March.

The new book, by the way, is The Queen's Fool by Philippa Gregory. I spent ages attempting to decipher the fadey text that overlays the front cover picture, thinking it was a reproduction of a significant letter or something, before finding that it was just a repetition of 'Much suspected of me, Nothing proved can be, Quoth Elizabeth prisoner.' So that's why the letter Q looked identical every time. I know it's only a design featurette that shouldn't be considered too closely, but now I imagine Elizabeth sitting in the gatehouse at Woodstock writing that again and again and again compulsively like 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'

And then she gets offered a drink by a bartender who isn't there and things really go to hell.

Anyway, it's a good book, although it frequently gets on my nerves that Ms Gregory has the rules of how you use commas and how you use semi-colons transposed in her head. There's a certain amount you can overlook as idiosyncracy of style, but this just makes it awkward to read.

In keeping with my present penchant for pirates, I have drawn a portrait of my pirate name, Calico Mary Flint. Here 'tis.

Hello Donna, you are your own woman. You're
rational, sensible, practical, and do what you
think best. It's great that you can speak your
mind, but sometimes you have to pull that stick
out of your ass.

Which of the That 70's Show characters are you
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Don't tell ME I have a stick up my ass, I had to correct YOUR spelling in the results code!

ATTENTION! ALL PERSONNEL!
You are
Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake
Well, you're not really him; you just resemble this fictional character. A bit.
Let's get that straight before you start wearing silly fishing hats and operating on people.

My sister's Pirate Name:
Mad Dog Bonney
Part crazy, part mangy, all rabid, you're the pirate all the others fear might just snap soon. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!

This is uncannily accurate. She fully went berserk on me earlier this afternoon.