(no subject)
An update, motivated by a word meme from Kalyn:
I'm in a war of attrition with my own writing habits right now. On the plus I've got back into the habits that kept my workload constant thoughout my MA, the downside is that the vast majority of my contribution to Literate society is gamer-related.
This isn't a criticism, just an acknowledgment that I took up RP-ing a few years back to try and keep the creative part of my brain alive. Now I have to juggle a hobby with my goals and am having to draw a line between the two. Recent experiences have reminded me that I can write well on demand, the onus is on me to demand more of myself.
On that note; something that consistently stirs me into a critical Evangelism is exposure to trash in written form. Over the past few months I've been exposed to a number of cash-cow cinematic clusterf*cks. The argument that this is allowable because it's the 'Summer Blockbuster Season' is ridiculous. Sorry, but I'm not inclined to praise something for meeting an expectation of mediocrity.
This isn't a criticsim of genre, I like action films, sci-fi, horror... The amount of work and organisation it takes to put any film together is significant in each case. There is a misguided notion is some circles that genres are statted up on some bizarre and abstract point-buy system aimed at min-maxing tabletop number-crunchers ("hmm.. script has a lot of fighting, better make intelligence the dump stat"). This kind of compromise doesn't exist in reality, just as a rationalisation. I'd rather judge a movie/novel/song on individual quality rather than a marketing label.
And before the subject is broached, quality isn't subjective. You can learn to spot it. Anyone can.
*blows raspberry*
Which brings me onto my third word: sometimes I'm a bit of a Monster. It's a response to bad weather; I get a hairy back, sloped shoulders, bad breath and tusk-like teeth. Thanks to new government legislation this isn't allowed to affect my chances for employability, which is probably why Cardiff University's school of Philosophy had were-Alan working as part of it's admin team recently. I lost my temper at a student a few weeks back who refused to attend class for a fortnight because his thumbnail had fallen off; he mistook my garbled grunts as advice on the transcendental state of Derrida. Nothing you can do about that except shrug.
What can I say about the colour Purple? It was probably the acting highlight of Whoopi Goldberg's career. It's a regal colour that was (in Roman times) associated with wealth and crushed snail shells. It's also (I remember this from a psychology class) a colour that women like to see men wear because it has a 'peacock' effect... it is reminiscent of an engorged wang apparantly.
It's also my favourite shirt colour. I'm wearing purple right now and sure enough, I feel like a big p*nis.
I guess this need to flaunt my masculinity with wang-coloured apparel has been on the rise for a few days to compensate for my lack of a beard. I regrew it a couple of months ago but ditched it last Sunday to make it easier to stay tidy for impending jobhunts. I took a few pictures during the shave, so if anyone wants to see me with a Lemmy moustache or a biker/walrus moustache.... they exist on my phone and only booze will set them free.
Rather than offer up a series of words to people (I think that ship has sailed the LJ seas). I'll let people take a single word en masse to play with: appelation.
Stay awesome guys, peace out.
I'm in a war of attrition with my own writing habits right now. On the plus I've got back into the habits that kept my workload constant thoughout my MA, the downside is that the vast majority of my contribution to Literate society is gamer-related.
This isn't a criticism, just an acknowledgment that I took up RP-ing a few years back to try and keep the creative part of my brain alive. Now I have to juggle a hobby with my goals and am having to draw a line between the two. Recent experiences have reminded me that I can write well on demand, the onus is on me to demand more of myself.
On that note; something that consistently stirs me into a critical Evangelism is exposure to trash in written form. Over the past few months I've been exposed to a number of cash-cow cinematic clusterf*cks. The argument that this is allowable because it's the 'Summer Blockbuster Season' is ridiculous. Sorry, but I'm not inclined to praise something for meeting an expectation of mediocrity.
This isn't a criticsim of genre, I like action films, sci-fi, horror... The amount of work and organisation it takes to put any film together is significant in each case. There is a misguided notion is some circles that genres are statted up on some bizarre and abstract point-buy system aimed at min-maxing tabletop number-crunchers ("hmm.. script has a lot of fighting, better make intelligence the dump stat"). This kind of compromise doesn't exist in reality, just as a rationalisation. I'd rather judge a movie/novel/song on individual quality rather than a marketing label.
And before the subject is broached, quality isn't subjective. You can learn to spot it. Anyone can.
*blows raspberry*
Which brings me onto my third word: sometimes I'm a bit of a Monster. It's a response to bad weather; I get a hairy back, sloped shoulders, bad breath and tusk-like teeth. Thanks to new government legislation this isn't allowed to affect my chances for employability, which is probably why Cardiff University's school of Philosophy had were-Alan working as part of it's admin team recently. I lost my temper at a student a few weeks back who refused to attend class for a fortnight because his thumbnail had fallen off; he mistook my garbled grunts as advice on the transcendental state of Derrida. Nothing you can do about that except shrug.
What can I say about the colour Purple? It was probably the acting highlight of Whoopi Goldberg's career. It's a regal colour that was (in Roman times) associated with wealth and crushed snail shells. It's also (I remember this from a psychology class) a colour that women like to see men wear because it has a 'peacock' effect... it is reminiscent of an engorged wang apparantly.
It's also my favourite shirt colour. I'm wearing purple right now and sure enough, I feel like a big p*nis.
I guess this need to flaunt my masculinity with wang-coloured apparel has been on the rise for a few days to compensate for my lack of a beard. I regrew it a couple of months ago but ditched it last Sunday to make it easier to stay tidy for impending jobhunts. I took a few pictures during the shave, so if anyone wants to see me with a Lemmy moustache or a biker/walrus moustache.... they exist on my phone and only booze will set them free.
Rather than offer up a series of words to people (I think that ship has sailed the LJ seas). I'll let people take a single word en masse to play with: appelation.
Stay awesome guys, peace out.