edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
This morning, I woke up to a series of ff.net comments on Tides (a Naruto canon-divergence AU fic I wrote back in 2005), which I cannot read as anything other than performance art.

I suspect this is even how the commenter intended them, although what they thought they were performing was threatening and dismissive anger with the aim of producing hurt, fear, and a sense of inferiority, rather than the utter hilarity I actually experienced, because baby's first flame attempts are impossible to take seriously. *wry*

Content warning for misogyny, ableism, homophobia, and death threats/suicide baiting, I guess.


nine anonymous comments on 'Tides' )



I find these hilarious both for their general misreading of the manga (apparently the intended message is that Naruto is god and can do no wrong, while both Sakura and Sasuke -- you know, the people Naruto loves and would die to save -- are horrible and need to die in agony (thus making Naruto's choice of friends... wrong? impossible! pay no attention to the contradiction behind the curtain!)), and for the amount of effort expended in performative outrage when every browser comes equipped with a perfectly functional back-button. The attitudes embodied in the commenter's choice of insults are more sad than anything else, but also contribute to my inability to take anything this person says seriously.

This gift of hilarity has also reminded me that I should probably go stick a note in front of all my Naruto fics saying that they're based on manga canon only (for the very simple reason that I have never watched the anime). I mean, people like today's commenter never read author's notes anyway -- they are looking for things at which they can perform frothing outrage, not nuance -- but it would give me an additional thing to laugh about later on when they act like anime-only events should be a trump card when discussing a manga-based story. *wry* And for people who aren't performative outrage artists, such a note would be a quick and easy way to set proper expectations going in.

...I'll get to that some other day, when I am feeling up to a couple hours of internet housekeeping.
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
tomato plant growing in a hedge
tomato plant in hedge, Thursday, 22 September 2016

three more photos under the cut )

[Context: I live in a house that is subdivided into four apartments: two on the ground floor and two on the second floor. The upstairs apartments share a balcony over the front porch.]

One of the many oddities this year has given me is the sight of a freaking tomato plant growing in the hedge that separates my house from the sidewalk. Or actually, two tomato plants. One is just a lot younger than the other, and probably won't bloom or fruit before the first frost hits.

Downstairs Neighbor S and Upstairs Neighbor E think that Diagonal Neighbor P (who has since moved out, and we're all kind of relieved about that) must have chucked a half-eaten tomato off her balcony at some point this spring, after which at least one of the seeds sprouted despite the drought and used the hedge as its climbing frame. Exuberantly.

Landlord Dude seems to be harvesting the tomatoes as they ripen, and found a stake from somewhere to prop up the younger tomato plant.

I am mostly bemused by the whole business... though I admit, I wouldn't be sorry if at least one of the tomatoes fell to the ground and started the cycle over again next year.

(Diagonal Neighbor P's other accidental planting -- a spiderwort that has taken over the entire north half of the front yard and is now encroaching upon the south half as well -- can go die in a fire, though. We all devoutly hope it won't survive the winter.)

[[original Tumblr post, for when the embedded images inevitably break]]
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
Oh hey, I found a 1986 addition to the Amazing Mumford saga! (I could not reproduce the multi-space gap between the third and fourth words, but otherwise the typography faithfully follows the original document.)


The amazing Mumford and Big Bird were fighting. Big Bird was trying to get his bag of gold back. MumFORd had taken it and Would not give it bacK. They fought with swords.

The End.
edenfalling: headshot of a raccoon, looking left (raccoon)
This is from the 1985 file folder of my accumulated childhood papers. The preceding two thirds of the page are covered in ALLCAPS electric typewriter gibberish, with one brief leap into intelligibility -- "I LOVE [LEGAL NAME]" -- most likely typed by my mom. I suspect I was sitting on her lap.

I am not sure how much of the following story is her taking dictation and how much is her subtly prompting me, but judging by the logic lapses, it was probably mostly me at age three and a half. *wry*

Anyway, the Amazing Mumford!





two dreams

May. 26th, 2016 03:22 pm
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
I had a couple weird dreams last night, which I made a point of remembering after I woke up because I wanted to share them.


1. The first dream was sort of a sci-fi action thriller thing, in which a group of people had the ability to 'abstract' themselves one layer away from normal reality, and then perform the same trick a second time (second-level abstraction), but while it was technically possible to keep going indefinitely, in practice if you went to a third-level abstraction, about half the time what came back (if anything came back at all) was not quite you.

Abstracted people, as viewed from normal reality, were invisible except when they were in motion, at which point they appeared sort of like a silvery column of heat distortion. The people who could abstract (which I think relied on gadgets) were on some kind of heist mission related to maybe overthrowing a dystopia of some sort, and were being chased by agents who could either not abstract at all or could only perform first-level abstractions, BUT they had guns whose bullets could, upon touching the after-image an abstracted person left in the lower reality level, explode in such a way as to send shockwaves through higher levels of abstraction and hopefully knock abstracted people back into normal reality where they'd either be arrested or shot for real.

Being abstracted was visually weird to experience, because it literally was abstraction -- the world went from three-dimensional reality to first being kind of flat color and drawn with heavy linework, and on a second-level abstraction, you started to get light shining through stained-glass color blocks and vaguely cubist distortion effects. Third-level abstractions got really trippy, and that's where the mental effects started to kick in because abstraction didn't erase the world around you, just your perception of it and its ability to interact with you, and in third-level abstractions you could, like, walk through walls if you wanted, or ignore gravity, and sort of see time-currents or something? And your mental processes went all weird, and I guess a bunch of people just didn't want to go back, and some who did couldn't readjust because brain chemistry is delicate, you know?

I might try to work that idea into a proper story someday.


2. The second dream involved me trying to make a baby shower gift for some friends (who are not remotely romantically involved in real life, let alone expecting a child) and I settled on a knit wool hat of many colors which I was going to make via an automatic knitting machine. It was in my public library, over near the paperback fiction shelves, and what you did was enter a pattern into a computer and the machine would produce your design in whatever colors and fibers you wanted. It manufactured your chosen kind of yarn out of a pile of raw synthetic fibers, so I guess it was a bit like specialized 3D printing?

Anyway, I was sitting there trying to translate a set of knitting instructions into a sort of grid pattern, and all around me other people were entering their own programs... one of which was an actual baby. Literally, these two women programmed the machine (in the public library!) to knit a living child out of a pile of synthetic fibers. And it worked. They picked the crying baby up out of the basket of finished products, put on a diaper and a onesie, and took the kid off to get a birth certificate or whatever.

And nobody blinked twice.

I decided to make my friends' kid a blanket as well as the hat, because I felt slightly upstaged after that.
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
A few weeks ago my sister fell down the rabbit hole into writing original ebook erotica/porn (which I may advertise at you when she has herself a bit more organized), and has been doing a bunch of research on and around the topic.

Today she sent me this text:

Just discovered Omegaverse. And the J2 SPN and 1D fandoms within. What. The. Actual. Fuck. Someone needs to write a dissertation about this and feminism, stat.

After I stopped laughing (very quietly, because I am at work), I sent her back:

Oh you sweet summer child... :)


Also http://fanlore.org/

Also also, look up kinkmemes :)


Possibly that was cruel of me. But really, I could have done a LOT worse if I'd had some of my bookmarked fics readily to hand. :D


ETA: She just wrote back:

Omg I sense another rabbit hole... See you in 3 years when I'm done reading

She has good instincts. :)


ETA 2: She called tonight to tell me her pen name, and I told her about Chuck Tingle. >:D
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
I had the weirdest dream last night.

I think it's because of my NFE signup, in which I said, among other things, that I would prefer not to write any Pevensie/Caspian ships (because none of them make any sense to me) and also requested a story about Polly and Digory post-MN, and somehow this all got tangled up with the Problem of Susan and turned into a massive THING where Polly and Digory accidentally left one of their Ring sets in Narnia and Disney!Caspian found them and used them to travel secretly to England where he got involved with the Malfoys (??? idk, what even) and kept kidnapping Susan into creepy stalker pseudo-romantic dinners at expensive exotic hotels and then getting Lucius Malfoy to Obliviate her so she couldn't tell her family what was going on, but while she didn't consciously remember anything she SUBCONSCIOUSLY began to associate Narnia with el creepo stalker probably-gonna-rape-her-eventually!Caspian and THAT'S why she turned away.

I don't know how the hell this fit into the timeline, since it would have to happen simultaneously before and after SC, nor do I know how it would have resolved because my alarm went off and I woke up just as Caspian was climbing the steps of a really blinged-out glass pyramid to consult with some ~mysterious evil power~ about Susan's continued resistance to his ~charms~ and what to do about the growing restlessness among his people who were kind of pissed off at the way he kept raising taxes to pay for those expensive hotels and stuff.


My brain, gentle readers. It is a strange place.
edenfalling: golden flaming chalice in a double circle (gold chalice)
This morning my mom sent me an email with what seems to be the abstract of a presentation given at a recent-ish theological conference held at Drew University -- or maybe the theme statement of the conference as a whole? It's hard for me to be sure since the text is one of the best examples of academic jargon run amok that I have ever seen. To wit:

Some of the most recent, most significant, most discussed works in queer theory have interrogated how we conceive our relation to the future and the past. From Lee Edelman’s polemicized caution that certain forms of commitment to certain kinds of futurity serve to eradicate queerness, to José Esteban Muñoz’s insistence that queerness can be secured only by fixing our eyes on the glimmering horizon of the future, to Heather Love’s worries about our relation to the traumas and injuries of the past, to Carolyn Dinshaw’s insistence on the very queer ways the past and present long to connect, this body of work seeks to replace reliance on logics of repetition, linearity, periodicity, and teleology with images of temporal drags and co-presences, anachronisms and proximities, contaminations and touches across time. Just as the foundational works of queer theory revealed that conceptions of gender, sexuality and race are not natural or inevitable, but social and conventional—and, hence, ethical and political—this body of work underscores that even seemingly commonsensical categories like past, present and future are intimately bound up with desire and power.

and then it keeps going for two more paragraphs! )


I have no words. O_o
edenfalling: stylized black-and-white line art of a sunset over water (Default)
On Friday at Tutto Bene, I got some tea to go with dessert. Let me tell you about this tea.

It is a brand called Mighty Leaf, and the particular blend is Organic Breakfast.

The front proclaims, underneath the blend name, that it contains Artisan Whole Leaf Pouch * Black Tea * Caffeine.

On the back, first we have some generic blend babble/brewing instructions: A robust, wide-awake blend of organic black tea leaves. Our take on the classic English Breakfast is serene contemplation from dawn to dusk. Brew time 4 minutes.

Then there is a little infographic box about the Mighty Leaf brand in general, entitled "Magic of the Mighty Leaf": Since ancient times, a freshly brewed pot filled with whole teas leaves has been revered as the richest in character. Today we proudly continue the tradition. Our handcrafted silken biodegradable pouches are packed with our artisan blends of whole tea leaves, fruits, herbs, spices and flavors too big for ordinary tea bags. Enjoy the liberation of pure tea goodness and rediscover the pleasure of the way tea was naturally meant to be.




Okay then!
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Mr. Speakerphone and the landlords decided that there was no sense doing an expensive repair job on an air conditioner that is going to be torn out altogether in July, and since the smoke shop is unbearable in the summer without air conditioning... we are closing on Saturday the 21st. This is about two weeks earlier than planned, but so it goes.

This week will be for packing up the store, more or less. Today Melodrama and Boss Lady started by not putting up the weekly magazine shipment. They just checked the totes in, broke the big plastic seals, replaced them with our little plastic tote closing tags, and wrote up the exact same set of totes as a return. Tomorrow we will take down all the remaining magazines from the racks and pack them up the same way. (I am not clear whether the racks themselves will be picked up Tuesday or a later day.)

In the afternoon, Melodrama wrote up all our candles and candle-related products so Boss Lady could write an official transfer receipt, and I packed them up for shipment to our sister store down in Elmira. (That was six totes altogether.)

Boss Lady says we'll probably close at 5pm Thursday-Saturday; she has not yet decided about Tuesday and Wednesday. After she closes on Friday, we're all going to get cocktails at Viva Tacqueria, which is just around the corner. Saturday will be mostly her and me tidying up the last remnants, doing a bunch of paperwork, and bundling up the week's newspapers.

I have agreed to be on call next week for any other post-closing tasks -- like putting out the trash and recycling Monday night, or dealing with the people who will come remove the lottery terminal, or the ATM, or the remaining drinks coolers, or other tasks of that nature. But basically when Boss Lady and I leave on Saturday, that's it. Lights out. We're done.


It's a strange and vertiginous feeling. Kind of like stepping off a cliff after slogging your way up an interminable mountain, and not being sure you remember how to fly.

But I think it will be okay.


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Elizabeth Culmer

October 2017

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