bulletins from the front
This has clearly been a poor time to not be on the internets! But alas. While I was otherwise occupied, it seems amazon has been, well, having epic fail. Which sucks, for many, many reasons but is also hugely irritating because I FUCKING LOVE BUYING BOOKS FROM AMAZON. And is also sad, because okay, evil, corporate, whateverthefuck, fine. I'm used to it. We're all freaking used to it, aren't we? But aside from being bigoted, it's also insane. Because it is not good business practice to try not to sell books if you're, you know, a book shop. And sex has been selling for a long time, my friends. And teh gay? ALSO DOING PRETTY WELL, especially of late. Also, James Baldwin? Come on.
And another thing, glaring incompetance at handling the internet from an internet company. This is web 2.0, folks. Did you think that if you just ignored it, people were just going to shut up and go away??? Um, no. This is the internet; being outraged is its hobby. Ditto writers, critics, fans, etc... and all of them have access to keys, and big, loud, cybervoices. Snuggling under easter eggs and hoping problem vanishes = no good. Sigh. Anyway, y'all have heard this already from a myriad of places that are not me, so I will stfu. But yeah. You know the drill, write email, sign the petition. Speak up!
Summing up my thoughts pretty successfully are the salon broadsheet and bodlon's post, where he also discusses the bias implicit in the way queer stuff is considered more "adult" than equivalently explicit straight material.
In other news: my dad is bad-tempered, tired and discomposed by various bodily functions not quite operating via standard parameters. I'll just leave it at that.
Last weekend, we had the cousin-brother invasion. God, so many of my boys in one wee nyc apartment. It was insane, oldest + wife, another one + boyfriend, and the second to youngest. Plus me and D. of course. All the boys put to work moving sofas, dressers, chairs etc. D. was an enormous hit, as he is immensely handy, and also I think they all have little boy crushes on him. Some more platonic than others. The one with the boyfriend, the boyfriend and I did a fair amount of non-platonic heckling at any rate. Fun times.
My dad, of course, decided he wanted to also move things. And mop the floor. I became afraid he was going to have to be physically restrained, but instead after a few minutes of exertion, he simply fell asleep.
I tried to help with the moving of things, but was held back by a horrid pinched nerve or something in my back, which has been going on for a week now in what I can only describe as fluctuating between excruciating agony and bearable pain. I have an appointment with a chiropractor today. I've never been to one before, and am terribly nervous.
Last night I couldn't sleep and watched Bright Young Things. David Tennant plays unsympathetic really well, it's amazing. (I also am beginning to think that the Doctor is the sanest of his many roles. Frightening thought.) Anyway, it's a fun time, this flick, even with the too-hollywood romantic ending. And the actors! Spectacular, one and all.
Then I had terrible nightmares about byzantine intrigue and magical plots and wormholes surrounded by green and blue rubber bands. If the bands were cut: apocalypse. My father had the scissors, and cut them as I begged and pleaded with him not to.
My subconscious is terribly boring these days, don't you think?
And another thing, glaring incompetance at handling the internet from an internet company. This is web 2.0, folks. Did you think that if you just ignored it, people were just going to shut up and go away??? Um, no. This is the internet; being outraged is its hobby. Ditto writers, critics, fans, etc... and all of them have access to keys, and big, loud, cybervoices. Snuggling under easter eggs and hoping problem vanishes = no good. Sigh. Anyway, y'all have heard this already from a myriad of places that are not me, so I will stfu. But yeah. You know the drill, write email, sign the petition. Speak up!
Summing up my thoughts pretty successfully are the salon broadsheet and bodlon's post, where he also discusses the bias implicit in the way queer stuff is considered more "adult" than equivalently explicit straight material.
In other news: my dad is bad-tempered, tired and discomposed by various bodily functions not quite operating via standard parameters. I'll just leave it at that.
Last weekend, we had the cousin-brother invasion. God, so many of my boys in one wee nyc apartment. It was insane, oldest + wife, another one + boyfriend, and the second to youngest. Plus me and D. of course. All the boys put to work moving sofas, dressers, chairs etc. D. was an enormous hit, as he is immensely handy, and also I think they all have little boy crushes on him. Some more platonic than others. The one with the boyfriend, the boyfriend and I did a fair amount of non-platonic heckling at any rate. Fun times.
My dad, of course, decided he wanted to also move things. And mop the floor. I became afraid he was going to have to be physically restrained, but instead after a few minutes of exertion, he simply fell asleep.
I tried to help with the moving of things, but was held back by a horrid pinched nerve or something in my back, which has been going on for a week now in what I can only describe as fluctuating between excruciating agony and bearable pain. I have an appointment with a chiropractor today. I've never been to one before, and am terribly nervous.
Last night I couldn't sleep and watched Bright Young Things. David Tennant plays unsympathetic really well, it's amazing. (I also am beginning to think that the Doctor is the sanest of his many roles. Frightening thought.) Anyway, it's a fun time, this flick, even with the too-hollywood romantic ending. And the actors! Spectacular, one and all.
Then I had terrible nightmares about byzantine intrigue and magical plots and wormholes surrounded by green and blue rubber bands. If the bands were cut: apocalypse. My father had the scissors, and cut them as I begged and pleaded with him not to.
My subconscious is terribly boring these days, don't you think?