"All five horizons revolved around her soul as the earth to the sun."
We saw a little summer, and now cold spring has wrapped itself about us once again. Today, we'll be lucky to see 71˚F (currently a balmy 66˚F), and the skies are overcast. And I know, now, that the next six months are going to be the busiest of my whole writing career (well, thus far, so the busiest in nineteen years). Busy is good. Busy is work. But the question that has to be confronted once every two or three minutes is, Can I actually handle this? Of course, I have no answer whatsoever. I have that worthless adage, "Time will tell."
Oh, did I mention Spooky's birthday on the 24th, and that she has an Amazon wishlist?
The past two days have mostly been a matter of getting ducks in a row. Yes, this is Cliché Theatre! Regardless, lots of talks with editors and agents, figuring out how I will spend seven out of every ten waking minutes for the next six months. Wall-to-wall and overlapping projects. There will be news. Nineteen years ago, this shit would have thrilled me sideways.
Tuesday, all telephone, all the time. I hate the motherfucking telephone, and I'd throw it out the window, only it might hit a squirrel. I do not presently need a dead squirrel on my conscience. Nor do I need, right now - or ever - to be haunted by the ghost of a squirrel. Where was I? Oh, here. Wednesday. Wednesday, more telephone, mostly making sense of Tuesday. But Spooky and I also proofread "A Mountain Walked," the "weird western" story I wrote back in April. Not an easy thing, the language, given that it's set in Wyoming Territory in June 1879, and consists of entries from a paleontologist schooled in England, at Oxford. Afterwards, I had an eye exam downtown. Surprise! I'm still blind in my left eye!* No, actually, it was a surprisingly pleasant experience. For one thing, the people at Providence Optical are bow tie. Any time you can talk MMORPGs with your optometrist, very cool. And I scored a vintage pair of Buddly-Holly frames for a mere $65 (they have a huge vintage stock, lots cheap). So, new glasses Friday or Monday.
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Don't have time today to actually write more of my observations and reactions to Prometheus, but I am going to link to someone who written the essay on the film I can only wish I'd written. Whether you loved or hated or are indifferent to the film, READ THIS, an examination of the movie through the lens of comparative mythology and religion, drawing on James Frazer's The Golden Bough, Joseph Campbell, and Jung. And the work of others. On Osiris, Christ, and other corn kings. Well, unless metaphysics, cosmogony, and corn kings squick you out. But, like I said, I'm an atheist, and I'm completely able to look at the primary theme and symbolism of Prometheus as an examination of humanity's (disastrous) search for its "creator."** I figure this entry's going to piss of many believers and non-believers alike (and maybe agnostics, too), but it still ought be read. It needs to be remembered that the examination of religion via science fiction has been prominent for decades. Knee-jerk reactions to the contrary are to be discounted. Like all good science fiction, Prometheus isn't about science, it's about human beings. Anyway...READ THIS, cavalorn's essay, "Prometheus Unbound: What The Movie Was Actually About." Warning: It will require more than thirty seconds to read. It's also chockfull of SPOILERS.
The most ridiculous claim I've yet seen about the film, by the way, is that Vickers is a transwoman. The proof? The lifeboat's Medical Pod 720i having been programmed exclusively for a male physiology. Um...right.
Looking Askance,
Aunt Beast, the Beleaguered
*Though the retinal scarring is worse that previously thought.
** Ridley Scott has confirmed much of what is covered in this essay as valid.
Oh, did I mention Spooky's birthday on the 24th, and that she has an Amazon wishlist?
The past two days have mostly been a matter of getting ducks in a row. Yes, this is Cliché Theatre! Regardless, lots of talks with editors and agents, figuring out how I will spend seven out of every ten waking minutes for the next six months. Wall-to-wall and overlapping projects. There will be news. Nineteen years ago, this shit would have thrilled me sideways.
Tuesday, all telephone, all the time. I hate the motherfucking telephone, and I'd throw it out the window, only it might hit a squirrel. I do not presently need a dead squirrel on my conscience. Nor do I need, right now - or ever - to be haunted by the ghost of a squirrel. Where was I? Oh, here. Wednesday. Wednesday, more telephone, mostly making sense of Tuesday. But Spooky and I also proofread "A Mountain Walked," the "weird western" story I wrote back in April. Not an easy thing, the language, given that it's set in Wyoming Territory in June 1879, and consists of entries from a paleontologist schooled in England, at Oxford. Afterwards, I had an eye exam downtown. Surprise! I'm still blind in my left eye!* No, actually, it was a surprisingly pleasant experience. For one thing, the people at Providence Optical are bow tie. Any time you can talk MMORPGs with your optometrist, very cool. And I scored a vintage pair of Buddly-Holly frames for a mere $65 (they have a huge vintage stock, lots cheap). So, new glasses Friday or Monday.
---
Don't have time today to actually write more of my observations and reactions to Prometheus, but I am going to link to someone who written the essay on the film I can only wish I'd written. Whether you loved or hated or are indifferent to the film, READ THIS, an examination of the movie through the lens of comparative mythology and religion, drawing on James Frazer's The Golden Bough, Joseph Campbell, and Jung. And the work of others. On Osiris, Christ, and other corn kings. Well, unless metaphysics, cosmogony, and corn kings squick you out. But, like I said, I'm an atheist, and I'm completely able to look at the primary theme and symbolism of Prometheus as an examination of humanity's (disastrous) search for its "creator."** I figure this entry's going to piss of many believers and non-believers alike (and maybe agnostics, too), but it still ought be read. It needs to be remembered that the examination of religion via science fiction has been prominent for decades. Knee-jerk reactions to the contrary are to be discounted. Like all good science fiction, Prometheus isn't about science, it's about human beings. Anyway...READ THIS, cavalorn's essay, "Prometheus Unbound: What The Movie Was Actually About." Warning: It will require more than thirty seconds to read. It's also chockfull of SPOILERS.
The most ridiculous claim I've yet seen about the film, by the way, is that Vickers is a transwoman. The proof? The lifeboat's Medical Pod 720i having been programmed exclusively for a male physiology. Um...right.
Looking Askance,
Aunt Beast, the Beleaguered
*Though the retinal scarring is worse that previously thought.
** Ridley Scott has confirmed much of what is covered in this essay as valid.