Me and the Moon

I'm glad that week's over: Frustrating days at work when others aren't doing their work as they're supposed to (as in, I tell them we need promotional material at an important conference I'm going to, I even tell them what they can do, but have to trust they will do it because I don't have the time to do their job for them, and then they deliberate over it, and a little more, hem and hum, la di da, and 2 weeks later tell me "oh we actually haven't got anything yet, and now it's too late to send over any shipment so we'll just drop it", leaving me with nothing to show for when I go meet these important people... gah!).

Anyway, I sort of sabotaged myself by leaving a big pile of manuscripts on my desk that I was going to check today (free day, but I'm two weeks out of the office soon so need to finish this stuff), and then getting into my car home without them. So, now I do have a free day after all. Oh well! :D

This week I saw the movie Four Lions, a British farcical satire about four jihadists in London. The guys are thick as bricks and have an ideology that's ridiculous (disparaging Western consumerism even while recording their (blooper) threats on camera, referencing Mortal Kombat and playing with their cell phones in Pakistan), but the film manages at the same time to carry a message that shows how far people, even people who hardly have a clue what they're doing or getting manipulated into, will go. In the end, it was quite tragic - tragi-comic I should say.

The subject is of course a touchy one. During the film five people walked out of the theatre, but I really enjoyed it. It had me in stitches, but it's message in the end was clear, and you have to accept that for what it is. It's a very sensitive topic, and some people might feel it's one too serious to toy with, but in reviews I've seen it compared to Charlie Chaplin mocking Hitler, as in mocking that which is fearsome, to disempower it. And I like that analogy.

I remember reading about a similar anecdote, where a guy infiltrated a white rights supremist group in the US whose membership was on the rise, and then what he'd pick up at their meetings was publicly mocked on the radio: All the ridiculous nick names and safe words and rites and rituals were made fun off, and that caused their popularity and membership to drop. People couldn't take them serious anymore because their little club was exposed as intrinsically silly (despite the terrible things they did besides that). And so by mocking what is threatening, you disempower it.

It doesn't take away the threat per say, but maybe disparages some people from joining what's been exposed as destructive ideology. And anyway, better to laugh than to cry at life.

(I'm pretty sure that last anecdote was from Gladwell's The Tipping Point).

OhmygodIsuckIscoulndn'thelpmyselfandsawthepromopicsforepisode1 here andspoileredmyselfagain.

I suck.

Now this I don't get (and I link a Dutch site because the English is down due to massive traffic, so if you want to see the pics you can see some here): Apparently some guys are going to go public with a bigfoot body tomorrow (oh my god so cool though it will be a scrurvy bear or a movie hoax), and this bigfoot site that I found says:

"Preliminary photos show something gorilla like; but this is NOT the body of the North American Sasquatch... more like a misidentification?"

I can't believe it. They find your Bigfoot and apparently they bring DNA, and you say, weeellll naaaahh!

Go with it people. The truth is out there.


ETA: In the form of a Gorilla suit. Bwah!

I haven't written anything for quite some time now. Last time was a ficlet after HBP, trying to make something out of that story (bit of a failure, that). Since then I've been meandering too much between fandoms, sometimes inspired but never so that I actually sat down to write the ideas down. Fandoms switched on and off too fast: I was watching and reading Heroes, Smallville, Gilmore Girls, HP, some favourite oldies from assorted fandoms, but none of these fandoms particularly drew me in (and HP had lost me), and, as far as I could find, Heroes and Smallville didn't have much fic to read either (not of the sort I wanted, anyhow).

But now, I've been immersed into Supernatural for quite some months, and faced a different problem: The ammount of fanfic was so astounding and varied, that 1) I could not stop reading; there was just more and more to go through, and I'm still not finished!, and 2) So much has been written that I felt there was hardly any niche left to snuggle into - I'd just be writing more of the same. But I've decided, screw that. If I write more of the same, who cares? I'm writing for myself anyway, and as long as I actually feel the need to put things down, just do it already!

Mostly I've been fighting my own apathy. I was very productive when I was in VampChron fandom: I wrote several hundred pages of fic and was very happy in the community. Since then (and that was like 7 years ago), I've not written so much: A few little fics here and there in HP mostly, certainly no long fic. I've always wanted to be a writer, but now I can't even push myself to write short fic in fandom and I'm despairing at my ability to ever get going again. When I was in Uni, I always figured I'd have more time once my evenings were free and I had no thesis to write. Now that I work full-time and commute to and from work for 3 hours a day, I am mostly too tired in the evening to do anything but conk out in front of the telly or read fic.

If you really love writing though, you'll do it. And I do love it. So I'm going to simply ease myself in with writing some short fics or challenges and see if I can jumpstart myself back into the game (be it good or bad). This weekend I sat most of my way through a "Five Times Dean Was..." type fic, just to think of some different ways to handle one theme and start with some very short concept fics. Then, I want to do some Dean whumpage. I don't care how repetitive it's going to be. Hell, can there ever be enough h/c or angst anyway? Not in my book.

/self-indulgence

Last week I very, really, incredibly stupidly knocked a glass of juice over my brand-new, awesome, beloved laptop. Needless to say, it is now broken. I could kick myself in the teeth. It was so random and careless. *rolls eyes at self* I hope the people in the store can fix it. And I hope it won't be too expensive, either... :/ Arrgh, I miss my computer!

However, in a strange reversal of fortune, I picked up a book to keep myself busy and have now read two novels in six days. This is the way I used to be, before I became addicted to being online, reading fanfic and downloading my favourite shows. I miss reading like this, but I know that as soon as my comp is fixed I'll revert back to my addictive ways... Oh, well!

Last year I had the plan to read a book a week. I managed about a book every two weeks. I'll see what happens this year (prob. same old).

I spent the weekend at my father's (about a 3,5 hour trainride away). He and his partner have been together for around twenty years now and it shows. I found it very amusing to hear them bicker and fuss about little things in their own caring (but somewhat irritating) way. "We have to turn right here, Tom." "I know, Hank." "Just thought to mention it, Tom." "We pass here every day, Hank." "Just saying so, Tom." "I'm taking a short cut here, Hank." "If you go left here you'll go through Baker street, Tom." "Yes, Hank." etc. etc. They really do sound like an old, married couple. They took me around the country, very eager to show me all the sights and beauty of their rural surroundings. It's just that there really isn't much to do there, the country is winter barren, there are endless fields in the middle of nowhere (which is non-existent in the busily populated area where I live), you pass a "town" in twenty seconds, and the empty fields look rather desolate. It was also raining. I didn't bring the right shoes which meant my feet were wet, I was cold all the time (even in the house), and being inside was boring. On the other hand, they tried so hard to make me feel welcome, they stuffed me with food and tea, and were so happy that I came to visit, that I'll have to visit again come spring (we'll see everything again, in bloom and hopefully warmer, which will lighten my mood).

My father's house is so white and proper, that I feel like an intruder just stepping inside it. Everything is exactly in place and so crystal clean! I just sit on the couch and try not to move too much. I like my house cluttered, imperfect and looking lived-in. It doesn't matter if something is nudged or if the cat comes in muddy-pawed or if I have people over. But I did get to take a nice, warm bath before bed. Heaven!

I get frustrated with my dad complaining though. He just hasn't got much to keep him busy, so he cleans and minds the little things. He moved to the country because the city was giving him stress, but he always finds something to complain about. The neighbour's barking dog, for instance, or the threat of a kindergarten getting built nearby. But then he'll turn around and say he's bored because there's nothing to do and he's lonely. I swear he doesn't know what he wants. Really though, he'll never be content until he's happy with himself, and he's far from there. He's looking for perfection, but that's just never going to happen. I wish he would settle for acceptance. It would make his life so much more comfortable! And mine easier. :/