Fandom and the Deathly Hallows
2 huge deaths dominate the flist today, and rightly so. As KV wrote so memorably in my favorite of his books, The Sirens of Titan:
"Toodeloo."
miriam_heddy suggests:
In memory of those we've lost, find a fan who isn't your bestest friend, who isn't in your closest clique, who you may never have seen in person, but who still means something important to you. Tell that person today, or this week (and don't stop telling them) what they bring to your life, and to the life of this community.
____
I am meeting
fabula_rasa in like 15 minutes. Careful, Fab- I may tell you what you bring to my life. (TMI! TMI! ABORT! ABORT!)
____
I had another bad IKEA thing happen. The sink/cabinet for the bathroom, that I bought almost a year ago-- I finally assembled it, having had the bathroom painted yesterday. I gazed upon it and thought "huh, that looks really big"... yes! it's way too big, it won't fit, was I on CRACK? There must be some exchanging (some must be swallowed, but only about 40$ worth.) It will be a headache. A big headache, because I don't have a car. A potentially huge headache. I got it from the website for a contractor who never showed up- not my usual M.O., and not likely to be repeated.
HDGF tells me many times daily that IKEA is evil, evol, teh evol even. She tells me this as she sits on the couch reading the entire Internet while I sit on the floor (on a thick blanket to protect parts from dings!) fiddling with cunningly devised interlocking screws, pieces of particle board riddled with Byzantine patterns of holes, a bar of soap (part of my personal equipment lineup; one day I will reveal my secrets to the world!), and comic-book fliers full of graphically conveyed info [i]about little bits of plastic, warnings [!] about the consequences of putting the bit of plastic in backwards, and the occasional textual predication [CLICK!], which means that you are about to injure your hand. These literary works are of the Age: equal supplies of enlightenment and mystification, in theory, to all, whether your native tongue is Urdu or Afrikaans.
I used to hate IKEA up until about 3 years ago. I laughed in knowing complicity at the satire in Fight Club: I, the mighty Rat, would never fill my house up with that stuff till it looked like a catalog page. Homogenizing corporate plot! Then I fell hard, and I still love IKEA. I am very proud of my IKEA skills, despite this uber-rookie mistake. I feel like IKEA offers a type of design- clean, modern, practical, creative- that is not available at anything resembling a reasonable price anywhere else. I can afford to pay 5 or 10 times IKEA's price once in a while for a plate or a curtain. But not for furniture. Not for cabinets. Or sinks. So I <3 IKEA.
But it is really started to look like a disease.
"Toodeloo."
miriam_heddy suggests:
In memory of those we've lost, find a fan who isn't your bestest friend, who isn't in your closest clique, who you may never have seen in person, but who still means something important to you. Tell that person today, or this week (and don't stop telling them) what they bring to your life, and to the life of this community.
____
I am meeting
fabula_rasa in like 15 minutes. Careful, Fab- I may tell you what you bring to my life. (TMI! TMI! ABORT! ABORT!)
____
I had another bad IKEA thing happen. The sink/cabinet for the bathroom, that I bought almost a year ago-- I finally assembled it, having had the bathroom painted yesterday. I gazed upon it and thought "huh, that looks really big"... yes! it's way too big, it won't fit, was I on CRACK? There must be some exchanging (some must be swallowed, but only about 40$ worth.) It will be a headache. A big headache, because I don't have a car. A potentially huge headache. I got it from the website for a contractor who never showed up- not my usual M.O., and not likely to be repeated.
HDGF tells me many times daily that IKEA is evil, evol, teh evol even. She tells me this as she sits on the couch reading the entire Internet while I sit on the floor (on a thick blanket to protect parts from dings!) fiddling with cunningly devised interlocking screws, pieces of particle board riddled with Byzantine patterns of holes, a bar of soap (part of my personal equipment lineup; one day I will reveal my secrets to the world!), and comic-book fliers full of graphically conveyed info [i]about little bits of plastic, warnings [!] about the consequences of putting the bit of plastic in backwards, and the occasional textual predication [CLICK!], which means that you are about to injure your hand. These literary works are of the Age: equal supplies of enlightenment and mystification, in theory, to all, whether your native tongue is Urdu or Afrikaans.
I used to hate IKEA up until about 3 years ago. I laughed in knowing complicity at the satire in Fight Club: I, the mighty Rat, would never fill my house up with that stuff till it looked like a catalog page. Homogenizing corporate plot! Then I fell hard, and I still love IKEA. I am very proud of my IKEA skills, despite this uber-rookie mistake. I feel like IKEA offers a type of design- clean, modern, practical, creative- that is not available at anything resembling a reasonable price anywhere else. I can afford to pay 5 or 10 times IKEA's price once in a while for a plate or a curtain. But not for furniture. Not for cabinets. Or sinks. So I <3 IKEA.
But it is really started to look like a disease.