Slash, sleepy, Sunday
Home again from church. Called the owner of the dance school to give her the heads-up I wouldn't be coming to the party. Am now free to spend the rest of the day baking, wrapping presents, and first and foremost getting a nap.
The weather outside is failing to be frightful. I am not surprised by this, though I am pouty.
I see the slash debate has reared its ugly head again. I persist in wanting to pull these people aside and go "It's okay. My ones and zeros do not make your Angel/Batman/Frodo/Harry/Jack/etc. gay."
What amazes me is the people who feel the need to either do full-force flaming blasts and/or twenty page essays that boil down to the theme of "Your interpretation is WRONG WRONG WRONG." Which amazes me because no, my interpretation is my interpretation. If Angel reads as someone coming off at Fag Factor Five to me then he comes off at Fag Factor Five to me. You can't tell me that I think Angel is straight. I've known me longer than you have. I know what my own thoughts are. I think chocolate tastes good, I think cover versions of "Happy Xmas (War is Over)" are crimes against humanity, and I think Angel swings both ways so hard we could use him as a door in a restaurant kitchen. What you think about him I make no claims to.
With that, I go to take a nap.
The weather outside is failing to be frightful. I am not surprised by this, though I am pouty.
I see the slash debate has reared its ugly head again. I persist in wanting to pull these people aside and go "It's okay. My ones and zeros do not make your Angel/Batman/Frodo/Harry/Jack/etc. gay."
What amazes me is the people who feel the need to either do full-force flaming blasts and/or twenty page essays that boil down to the theme of "Your interpretation is WRONG WRONG WRONG." Which amazes me because no, my interpretation is my interpretation. If Angel reads as someone coming off at Fag Factor Five to me then he comes off at Fag Factor Five to me. You can't tell me that I think Angel is straight. I've known me longer than you have. I know what my own thoughts are. I think chocolate tastes good, I think cover versions of "Happy Xmas (War is Over)" are crimes against humanity, and I think Angel swings both ways so hard we could use him as a door in a restaurant kitchen. What you think about him I make no claims to.
With that, I go to take a nap.