if you're link-happy and you know it, read this post
If updating while drunk is hard, trying to not die from each report of the keyboard because one's head is already a massive hangover-induced ache is next to impossible. Blargh. It was just beer! Granted it was a lot, but I drank water like I'm supposed to. We even had 5 a.m. breakfast at Waffle House! Mmm, pecan waffle.
Ahem. In any event, Friday lab was largely pleasant, with my minder showing a penchant for South Park, though she did consider making Cartman the FAA spokesman, so the extent of her knowledge is debatable. But the kids in there just don't seem to be learning what I've told them at least twice. No specifics in the lead, especially names unless the person has public figure status. Make them single sentences. Attribute properly. Basic stuff. And yet, here we are.
Mike and I blew off the world that afternoon to see Thumbsucker. I need to remember that indie, quirky cinema is not for me, even if it does have Vincent D'Onofrio, Keanu Reeves and Tilda Swinton in it. It's somewhat ironic, unless that was the point, that the character I walked away understanding the least was the lead. It's also interesting that I have the opposite philosophy with regard to my cinema - escapism - than fanfic - realism. In the theater, I like the improbable; in fic, I demand grounding in canon for events and characterizations. Hm.
Saturday was a mess of South Park. We officially have all but maybe two or three of my favorite episodes on the DVR, making investment in a writer imperative. That show is amazingly clever, just weird, offensive, relevant, petty, hilarious, horrifying, delightfully depressing and smart, in turns and, of course, in their own ways. Guilty pleasures include The Losing Edge, Good Times With Weapons, Raisins, Fat Butt and Pancake Head, and You Got F*ucked in the Ass but even then, there's almost always something redeeming about the episode.
In alarming technological news, if commercials are to be believed, there's now a car out there (sorry, can't find a link for the life of me and don't remembr the make/model) that calls up your service shop when it has a problem. Big Brother liek woah. Also, this. Me and robots, man. The wax sculptures at Madame Tussaud's were freaky enough, but to have them move and talk? [meep]
We made it out for Serenity and dinner at Harry's downtown. I liked it fine, and it's doubtlessly Joss, and Malcolm was love at first wisecrack, but overall, eh. What I did have opinions about though are office things, which Mike and I could've discussed properly if first our shady Supervisor of Elections Dan Maland (wanted so badly to say, "Hey Dan, nice election" when he walked past, but Mike all but kicked me under the table) then half the office weren't walking past. [sigh] It was an overwhelmingly depressing conversation. I feel like we're going to finish out the semester like we have been, just happy that we put together a paper every night, as opposed to accomplishing any of the lofty goals we campaigned on at our hiring interviews. We're single parents keeping our kids in food and in our rented apartment, but that's it, and while that's a pretty big accomplishment for the single parents, all things being relative the world doesn't really acknowledge survival as anything to commend. This isn't about me - I feel guilty that we're given so much by Mr. Barber and his unebbing faith in our putting out a good product, but we've got to build something too, or I don't know how this paper will get on without us next semester. And that sounds selfish to say, but while I have no doubt Bridget will step up and do absolutely anything for the paper, she can't do it alone, and we're not building enough of a foundation for other people to step up instead of just having to continue laying groundwork.
[/end metaphors]
In news of other things I'm angry about, Mike met with the so-called Justice in Media Coalition this past week, who had the audacity to ask him to make the "n-word" (that's official Alligator style for it at the moment, as I've got nothing better) an expletive. [sigh] The lack of respect for newspapers - no, not all media, as ABC News recently proved again why I don't watch sensationalized network news that flagrantly ignores facts because they don't serve the story - and unbiased journalism in general, and free speech even more lamentably, is unbelievable. We don't exist to fight anyone's causes, nor should we have to. I'm really tired of the world demanding respect while granting none.
[insert a lot of sitting around a fire with Alligator staffers, drinking and smoking and partying loud and long enough to bring the neighbors, who end up being fans of the paper, and much ensuing good times until 6 a.m.]
I crawled unwillingly from my bed at 2 p.m. but only until I got to the sofa and found Down With Love had just started on Cinemax. Frankly, everyone I lamentably listened to who didn't outright love this movie was smoking the bad crack. Ewan McGregor owns a piece of my soul, he truly does, especially when he sings. Though Renee Zellwegger was outacted at a few turns, which is dumbfounding, the plot was genius, the execution delightful, and the resolution on point. It's smart, funny, and (ultimately) escapes the misogenism underlying so many romantic comedies.
As far as the rest of the night, in brief as that is all it deserves, Opinions Editor Emily has a management concern to discuss, she should do it with an iota of maturity and ask Mike and I into his office rather than pitch a loud hissy fit in the middle of the newsroom. Grr. Especially if she's going to make false accusations and suggest that changing a letter-writer's point is better than taking out the letter without consulting her. Also, news needs to not happen after budget, but if it must, please do so before 9 p.m. so we can write a reasonable story and pull and stretch content like so much warm taffy to make it fit, because at 10:30, it would take the falling of all the stars above to make some such thing happen.
Have I mentioned the mouse that lives in the Alligator production office? It ventures out occasionally - Mike claims to have seen it in his office - but it's of frightening proportions if the amount of noise it makes scurrying above the ceiling panels are any indication.
In conclusion, as well as a fit of unfathomable shallowness, has it been mentioned that the Japanese prime minister is a very handsome man? Ditto for Tony Blair, who also wears great ties. Mmm, politicians. And wow have I got to be warped to say that. In that same fit of impropriety, insert your own quips here (by the way, the fourth image result from my Google image search of Tony Blair turned up a manip of him kissing Dubya. Heh. But I mean, when they're this happy to see each other, the stuff kind of writes itself.)
EDIT: Wow. If that's not a classic clandestine moment, I don't know what is. Also, Bwah! A government-issue cotillion! [heart]
SON OF EDIT: Why is this new to me? [dies]
Ahem. In any event, Friday lab was largely pleasant, with my minder showing a penchant for South Park, though she did consider making Cartman the FAA spokesman, so the extent of her knowledge is debatable. But the kids in there just don't seem to be learning what I've told them at least twice. No specifics in the lead, especially names unless the person has public figure status. Make them single sentences. Attribute properly. Basic stuff. And yet, here we are.
Mike and I blew off the world that afternoon to see Thumbsucker. I need to remember that indie, quirky cinema is not for me, even if it does have Vincent D'Onofrio, Keanu Reeves and Tilda Swinton in it. It's somewhat ironic, unless that was the point, that the character I walked away understanding the least was the lead. It's also interesting that I have the opposite philosophy with regard to my cinema - escapism - than fanfic - realism. In the theater, I like the improbable; in fic, I demand grounding in canon for events and characterizations. Hm.
Saturday was a mess of South Park. We officially have all but maybe two or three of my favorite episodes on the DVR, making investment in a writer imperative. That show is amazingly clever, just weird, offensive, relevant, petty, hilarious, horrifying, delightfully depressing and smart, in turns and, of course, in their own ways. Guilty pleasures include The Losing Edge, Good Times With Weapons, Raisins, Fat Butt and Pancake Head, and You Got F*ucked in the Ass but even then, there's almost always something redeeming about the episode.
In alarming technological news, if commercials are to be believed, there's now a car out there (sorry, can't find a link for the life of me and don't remembr the make/model) that calls up your service shop when it has a problem. Big Brother liek woah. Also, this. Me and robots, man. The wax sculptures at Madame Tussaud's were freaky enough, but to have them move and talk? [meep]
We made it out for Serenity and dinner at Harry's downtown. I liked it fine, and it's doubtlessly Joss, and Malcolm was love at first wisecrack, but overall, eh. What I did have opinions about though are office things, which Mike and I could've discussed properly if first our shady Supervisor of Elections Dan Maland (wanted so badly to say, "Hey Dan, nice election" when he walked past, but Mike all but kicked me under the table) then half the office weren't walking past. [sigh] It was an overwhelmingly depressing conversation. I feel like we're going to finish out the semester like we have been, just happy that we put together a paper every night, as opposed to accomplishing any of the lofty goals we campaigned on at our hiring interviews. We're single parents keeping our kids in food and in our rented apartment, but that's it, and while that's a pretty big accomplishment for the single parents, all things being relative the world doesn't really acknowledge survival as anything to commend. This isn't about me - I feel guilty that we're given so much by Mr. Barber and his unebbing faith in our putting out a good product, but we've got to build something too, or I don't know how this paper will get on without us next semester. And that sounds selfish to say, but while I have no doubt Bridget will step up and do absolutely anything for the paper, she can't do it alone, and we're not building enough of a foundation for other people to step up instead of just having to continue laying groundwork.
[/end metaphors]
In news of other things I'm angry about, Mike met with the so-called Justice in Media Coalition this past week, who had the audacity to ask him to make the "n-word" (that's official Alligator style for it at the moment, as I've got nothing better) an expletive. [sigh] The lack of respect for newspapers - no, not all media, as ABC News recently proved again why I don't watch sensationalized network news that flagrantly ignores facts because they don't serve the story - and unbiased journalism in general, and free speech even more lamentably, is unbelievable. We don't exist to fight anyone's causes, nor should we have to. I'm really tired of the world demanding respect while granting none.
[insert a lot of sitting around a fire with Alligator staffers, drinking and smoking and partying loud and long enough to bring the neighbors, who end up being fans of the paper, and much ensuing good times until 6 a.m.]
I crawled unwillingly from my bed at 2 p.m. but only until I got to the sofa and found Down With Love had just started on Cinemax. Frankly, everyone I lamentably listened to who didn't outright love this movie was smoking the bad crack. Ewan McGregor owns a piece of my soul, he truly does, especially when he sings. Though Renee Zellwegger was outacted at a few turns, which is dumbfounding, the plot was genius, the execution delightful, and the resolution on point. It's smart, funny, and (ultimately) escapes the misogenism underlying so many romantic comedies.
As far as the rest of the night, in brief as that is all it deserves, Opinions Editor Emily has a management concern to discuss, she should do it with an iota of maturity and ask Mike and I into his office rather than pitch a loud hissy fit in the middle of the newsroom. Grr. Especially if she's going to make false accusations and suggest that changing a letter-writer's point is better than taking out the letter without consulting her. Also, news needs to not happen after budget, but if it must, please do so before 9 p.m. so we can write a reasonable story and pull and stretch content like so much warm taffy to make it fit, because at 10:30, it would take the falling of all the stars above to make some such thing happen.
Have I mentioned the mouse that lives in the Alligator production office? It ventures out occasionally - Mike claims to have seen it in his office - but it's of frightening proportions if the amount of noise it makes scurrying above the ceiling panels are any indication.
In conclusion, as well as a fit of unfathomable shallowness, has it been mentioned that the Japanese prime minister is a very handsome man? Ditto for Tony Blair, who also wears great ties. Mmm, politicians. And wow have I got to be warped to say that. In that same fit of impropriety, insert your own quips here (by the way, the fourth image result from my Google image search of Tony Blair turned up a manip of him kissing Dubya. Heh. But I mean, when they're this happy to see each other, the stuff kind of writes itself.)
EDIT: Wow. If that's not a classic clandestine moment, I don't know what is. Also, Bwah! A government-issue cotillion! [heart]
SON OF EDIT: Why is this new to me? [dies]
