Monkeys and keyboards aside, one Random + CSS still doesn't make poop.

Today, two young women got dramatically offended because I suggested a book to them that wasn't Twilight.

It seems Twilight means very much to them; so much that it was untoward of me to suggest other reading material.


Dear bleached-blond bottle-tanned Barbie-wanna-be Twitards,

Why so serious?











We're gonna get flamed so hard. It took less than a half hour for us to get our first flame. :D

Me: I'm outside your houuu-seeee!
newageamazon: Okay!
Me: With my pants in my lap!
newageamazon: . . . What?

~~

Also, it appears the publisher Harlequin has shot themselves in the nuts. They added on a new vanity publishing wing--a wing towards which authors who are rejected from their commercial branches will be funneled. Reactions seem to vary from "But self-publishing isn't bad!" (which completely ignores how this isn't self-publishing, it's vanity publishing, and yes it fucking is) to the hardcore, as the RWA (Romance Writers of America) has (have?) revoked Harlequin's recognized publisher status.

I'll be the first person to mock the romance novel section, sure--but that's still one hell of a shitty thing to do to potential authors: lure them in with an established name, reject their novel, then flip them over and shake them for whatever money may come out while telling them that this is really the best way for their career to start.

(You go, RWA. Rock on with your bad, frequently badly written selves.)

~~

Also, Gunnerkrigg Court ate my brain. It's much fun.

Poll #4604 So . . .
Open to: All, results viewable to: All

If Random really wants to be healthy, what's the least healthy thing for her to keep doing?

Things to keep in mind:
Cloves are awfully hard to get in the states anymore, and make me hungry.
The Chinese buffet has all-you-can-eat sushi.
The doggies need exercise.
So do I.
I can't read the warnings on my clove package--these ones are from Indonesia--but I know what they say about all the awful things that can happen to smokers.
A typical buffet run involves two plates and me whining about a food coma for an hour afterward.
I am gimping ever closer to the day when I will be a cranky old lady hitting people with my cane.

The worst best WTF moment of the day is without a doubt Regretsy. It takes the spirit of failblog and applies it to all the shit over at etsy that makes us say, "Wait, you're charging how much for what?"


With this site in mind, I feel it is my civic duty to rescue this goat. Look at the poor thing's face. It obviously wants to eat that awful coat and die from intestinal blockage.

This is one of Fanhistory's pages on the fanartist Sockii, Sockii Press, and some of the 'zines produced by Sockii. Sockii in all their forms gave Fanhistory express permission to use these 'zine covers on Fanhistory.

This is Fanlore's page on the same work of Sockii's. As you can see, it was lifted directly from FH--art and all.

Clicking through Sockii Press's links shows that this isn't the only case--and that I am in no way linking to the only two examples. Wiki-lifting aside, keep in mind that OTW's people are lifting fanart they don't have the rights to or permissions for, and are claiming it for their site.

Sockii knows; Sockii is the one who found the stolen artwork. Sockii and FH aren't currently doing anything because of OTW's response to the Yuletide debacle--where if you don't want your fanworks moved to another hosting area or location outside of your control, they don't want anything to do with you and don't want you to be a part of their exchange--and how their response to fanzine creators who don't want their 'zines to be part of OTW's archive is pretty much "Sucks to be you!" with an added, especially unbelievable side of "We won't scan it or post it online without your permission!"


In short, Sockii doesn't expect a site with no DMCA takedown procedures (and with this sort of response to fannish concerns over artistic rights) to give two shits about their feelings and rights as an artist.


Yup. This is what OTW, parent of An Archive Of Our Own & the Fanlore wiki, absorbers of both the Yuletide fic exchange and previous Yuletide fanworks (no matter artists' wishes to control the locations of their own work), and self-proclaimed defender of fandom rights and the proverbial fannish little guy gal, is up to.


I . . . find myself not at all surprised.




Where is the outrage? Is it because these people are supposedly fans? Fanlib said they might copy parts of &/or a work to a different location and people flipped the fuck out. These people lift artwork without permission and run roughshod over the 'zinemakers, the people who helped really get this fannish boat sailing to begin with, and I only hear about it from a friend of Sockii's? How do any of us know that our fanworks, in any format, won't be lifted for their site/archive under the guise of some sort of historical importance?

We don't. Not anymore.

How the hell does this work?

I usually don't look at let alone click on banner ads, but this . . .

Lollyphile.com might just be the place I go for Christmas shopping this year. Absinthe lollypops? Wasabi-ginger and Chai Tea lollypops? Maple syrup bacon lollypops? If I thought they gave out samples I'd be on their stairs with a little alms bowl.

I decided to exercise more to prepare for the upcoming Weekend Of Pain where The Indigo shall summarily kick my ass. I did a billion curlups and ran for miles on the elliptical and changed none of my eating habits and gained five pounds.

I decided to decorate my sorta-kinda exercise regimen with a return to the GI diet variation thing, where I eat lots of beany things and less processed sugars and breads and which, if I stick to it, results in my dropping about a solid pound a day.

. . . I want a donut. Instead I'm gonna try to get through Rachel Brice's yoga warmup without calling her an evil skinny little woman. I think.




Chances of my writing fic instead of doing Nano, or yoga, or listing more etsy things, or going out and finding an elliptical . . . growing.



Also, I finally gave up and got a twitter account. Now to see if I can use it to do businessy things and not to argue on the internets.

My to-do:

Put in supplies orders

Paperwork. I've got a pile that needs beaten back into shape, sorted, and filed.

Clean house

Start thawing a turkey. Did you know they're $0.40 a pound at Wal-mart? I got two good-sized birds for a laughable amount. I don't think either'll fit in the crock pot, but I'm gonna try.

Not buy the glass fuser kit from Pat Catan's. I don't need it. It will in no way help me make fabulous shiny things. I did it--I looked the beast dead in the eye and realized that it won't make the kind of pieces I really want. (Even attempting to make them with this particular method would involve me putting metal in the microwave, which would be a somewhat bad idea.) Maybe next year.

Sand ring bases for a sturdier epoxy attachment, then start making more steampunky rings

Etsy listings--necklaces, steampunk rings

Work on Nano

Food shopping!

Dremel bits, brass keys, screw eyes, and possibly more resin molds, since the glass thing won't work out

Start playing with Windows Movie Maker to cobble the Dramatic Fight Scene together, and trim what scenes need trimmed into easily-pasted segments.

Friday & Saturday--start to finish up filming for NMOMWH



Does anyone with bunnies know why bunnies will suddenly and randomly start to stampede? The two housebunnies have taken to freaking out and chasing each other every few minutes. I wouldn't care, except they keep waking me up and throwing their litter all over the place.

Nekocon was a fairly laid-back con, all things considered. It didn't feel like there were too many people there, and I heard a few people say that sales weren't as good as last year's . . . but that being said, when they hit at the artists' alley, they hit hard. My sales there beat ACen's and are just dollars away from ANext's. This means I am a very happy Random.

Weird con was weird, though. Standard heavy sellers like the metal flower kanzashi and hair sticks didn't move like usual, though the new steampunk cuff prototypes couldn't be kept on the table and I sold more single earrings than I have during my entire crafting career. The co-conspirator had the same problem--she wasn't really moving her magnetic katamari balls, which are usually gone by Saturday, but sold scarves instead.

Otherwise: The weekend was strangely relaxing. Our (cheap!) hotel had a pool and a hot tub, not to mention real sausage for breakfast (not spiced veggie stuff like our Otakon hotel gave us) and real sausage gravy to go with it. Voldemart had cheap wine, and IHOP was made of awesome and win and pecans. Then there was Buckroe Beach--not a show-stopper, but a nice, pretty clean, community-feeling place with a couple neat photo op spots--just five miles away. And best of all, I think I walked away without con plague. I intend to go back again next year. :D


(Also, I got a big plush Appa. He's so snuggly. I still haven't seen Avatar but I love this thingy anyway. *snugson*)

People who know me or have seen pics know that I have floofy curly super-fine Crazy Irish hair that is about five inches longer when straightened, will stand straight up with little provocation, and will 'fro if it's cut too short. It's usually impossible to deal with--it floofs with hair spray, it floofs without hair spray, it floofs within hours of having been relaxed, it floofs with or without special shampoos, and if I beat down the floof with gel? I look like a drowned rat.

So when I tell you, dear internets, that I've come across a shampoo that can tame the infamous Crazy Irish hair, I need you to know that this is akin to a light-from-the-sky chorus-of-angels miracle that blatantly and completely defies the laws of physics.

And it's even hippie-friendly, too. :D


I really wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't tried it myself--but now that I have, I'll probably never buy normal shampoo again.

Re: Paranormal Activity

Thingie: *goes bump-tap-skritch-thunk-screech-"O hay thar" in the night*

Guy: I am a big manly man and, armed with my camera, I will handle this wtfery on my own with my cunning plan! What plan? Who knows!

Girl: I AM FREAKING OUT AND WILL CONTINUE TO FREAK OUT AND WILL STAY RIGHT HERE AND FREAK OUT LOUDLY.

Me: You guys are so not good at this*.





*Perchance I've run into a few too many things that go bump-tap-skritch-thunk-snore(yes, it snored)-"O hay thar" in the night . . . But I've got the feeling this movie will be to people who've actually dealt with ghosties/poltergeists what "Let's split up and hide from the axe murderer in different rooms of this creepy old house!" is to most normal people.

Yesterday I decided I'd be healthy and go for a run/walk with Oni. Okay, so it's less a "be healthy" and more a "In a month I have two back-to-back workshops with Rachel Brice and Mardi Love. If I intend to survive and/or not have the workshops close with me laying on the floor crying and them toeing me every so often and telling me to STFU and deal, I need to severely up my cardio."

So on my good-intentioned adventure I turned my ankle (again) and ended up hobbling two miles home, and Oni got a tick that ended up partially embedded in his ear, requiring a $50 vet visit. FML. :P

He talked to the vet too much and she muzzled him. I can't really say I blame her--he does have angry eyebrows, a jaw that hinges at the back of his head, and a tendency to sound ferocious. After it came off, he seemed mortified (and thus was silent) for almost ten minutes.

Almost ten. Then it was back to normal . . . well, as normal as he can get.



A hop on the vet's scale showed that Oni now weighs in at sixty-eight pounds--almost twenty-five pounds up from when we got him at the shelter back in '04. This information prompted me to be insensitive--"Damn it, you giant fat hairball, stop stepping on me!"--and prompted zen_of_nihilism to tell terrible jokes: "He's not fat, he's husky! Ba-da-dum-ching!"



One week until Nekocon. I have way, way too much stuff to make--though the steampunky rings have come out fairly interesting thus far. :P So we all know what time it is . . . Bulleted list time!

To do:

Clean not-made-by-me merch from merch wheelie

Check bank balance, mail etsy orders, make byz and half Persian bracelets for local store

At least fifty hair forks: 5 purple/silver, 5 purple/orange, 5 blue/silver, 5 blue/orange, 3 bronze/geary, 4 silver/gold, 4 green/orange, 3 green/silver, 4 fall, 3 calico/geary, 3 gunmetal, 3 gold/geary, and whatever else I turn out.

Hair sticks. Lots. Like 100+ lots. This might require a

trip to Lowe's for a new dremel drill bit.

Finish flower & steampunky rings

Figure out how many supplies I really need to take--I'm tired of lugging an Oni-sized wheelie around.

Paperwork things

I was finally starting to be completely past my Law & Order SVU-induced depression--taking two or three or five seasons in a row apparently does a number on one's mental state--but found myself thrown right back in via cnn.com's front page today. So a poor teenage girl got gang-raped outside her high school's dance by at least four guys and ended up having to be flown to the hospital in critical condition. Further investigation showed that this wasn't just a gang-rape, it was a show--at least fifteen and possibly twenty guys stood around and watched and did nothing to help for the two hours plus duration. Some even joined in.

Wow, I said. It's like Crank, only--oh, wait, Crank wasn't fucking funny either.


For reference: In the Jason Statham movie Crank, Statham's character needs to keep his heart rate up or he'll die. At one point he decides to up his heart rate by having sex with his girlfriend. Against her will. In public and in broad daylight. As a crowd of mixed ages and genders stands around and watches and does absolutely nothing to help her, despite her screaming and shouting no and trying to get away/fight the guy off. Of course, she magically decides she likes it mid-rape (to the cheers of the onlookers), and of course the female witnesses are more concerned with Statham's character's sex appeal and the size of his cock than they are with the woman who was just assaulted in front of them.

It's nightmare-fuel rape played as humor. It's without a doubt the worst movie scene I've ever watched. And now it's come to life, with a resounding shout of, "Silly female! Did you actually think anyone around you would come to your rescue?"


So . . . Do we really wonder where some people might get the impression that this behavior is appropriate?

I'm not advocating censorship here; just awareness. Here's a movie clip where the ditsy blonde girl has her clothes ripped off and is violently forced to have sex in public, despite her struggles. Not one of the onlookers tries to stop her rapist from carrying out his assault. You the viewer are supposed to see it as comedy.

Here's the real-life reflection: teen girl, possibly drunk or drugged, is violently gang-raped in public. Not one of the onlookers tried to stop the rape. What did the guys standing around think? That it was funny? That putting the girl into critical care was a good time? That this was a good chance for them to get off as well?


The area's police haven't released any explanations yet--though I'm sure no explanation given could ever hold water for the victim or victim's family.







In slightly more lighthearted news, a French court convicted the Church of Scientology of organized fraud because of their high-pressure "spend money on us and be saved!" tactics. Scientology spokespeople responded by comparing the ruling to the Inquisition--which, while a step up from shrieking and throwing poo, still goes to show that they Just Don't Get It.

Being fined for victimizing people: It's like being horribly tortured and burned at the stake, in a way. Only not.

Sad when throwing things at Scientologists registers as braincleaner.

Our Bella got the flu, so we only got half the movie filmed. The rest should go fairly smoothly, though . . . well, as long as Oni continues to behave. He's mis/behaved wonderfully so far, and only managed to eat the toe out of a sock.

Don't ask. Yet. :D

~~

I finished Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book and am pretty sure I'm obligated to make the man cookies at some point. The end is a little sudden, but the writing is high-level for a kids' book and overall is one of the better ones I've read in a while. I recommend it.

~~

I finally finished Chelsea Cain's Heartsick. The book's main murder mystery plot seemed eclipsed by the side(?) plot of the insane yet beautiful female serial killer and the suicidally depressed cop she's Stockholm syndrome'd, tortured, and brainfucked into a scarred, divorced, and drug-addled shadow of his former self. I'd say this is probably because the latter is a pretty new concept, while the mystery/thriller section is overflowing with the former.

Either way--the book got off to a somewhat slow start, but once it started moving (and the WTF-y interplay of Gretchen & Archie actually got going) it was interesting. If anyone wants my ARC that I've been hoarding for the past couple years, let me know.

~~

I started reading Captain Blood, too--what can I say, I wanted something out of the ordinary--and was pleasantly surprised. The main character is a near-radioactive Marty Stu (an Irishman who's the best physician around, was an awesome soldier and is still an awesome fighter, speaks perfectly accented Spanish, is oh-so-physically appealing, plots the best & sneakiest plots to ever be plotted, repeat any of those a few times over, so on and so forth) but the story rolls along really well for its originating time period, and it's written on so much of a higher level than what I've been reading lately that I'm frequently astounded. I'm not mentally tripping on the sentences because the language is archaic, I'm tripping because it's such heavy-duty wording that I as a reader have to pay close attention to in order to properly get the feel and description of things. I still don't expect much from it storyline-wise--I'm willing to bet dollars and donuts that the titular character will break hearts, defeat everyone, find treasure, get the girl, and possibly fart roses by the time it's all over--but I'll probably keep with it for a little while longer. Or at least until I find something else entertaining.

We're shooting New Moon Over My Wereheiny tomorrow. God help us.

http://whywomenhatemen.blogspot.com/

I don't hate men. I believe in not discriminating; I hate everyone equally. This site, though, makes me lol for hours and hours on end. Also, it makes me overwhelmingly glad I'm not in the dating pool any more.

Seriously, try it. The commentary on these guys' personal ads will slay you. It's better than fandom_wank in its heyday. (It's also incredibly NWS, but this thing will eat so much of your time it's best to not touch it at work. Ever.)


Seriously. SERIOUSLY. Srsly. I am so srs rite nao.




I'm not sure what's worse about this particular entry: That the poor piece of furniture wasn't suspecting a thing, or that there's more than one of them.

I set up the fishtank again, after a few years of being without. I salted and scrubbed it to kill any remaining unhappiness; I lost main components for the filtration systems and re-purchased them; I bought 50 pounds of pond stone at Lowe's and spent a half hour washing it in the bathtub.

I nabbed the single goldfish from the pond (which has a broken filter and will certainly freeze solid this winter) and tossed him in the tank. He's there to make sure nothing's going to go terribly wrong. I named him Canary.

I'm a bad person. >.>




~~

Bella Sara's pinot grigio is a little more dry than my usual favorite wines, but it's still exceptionally tasty. I have a large bottle--ph34r for those who get in my way tonight. :D (This means any more people who start trying to tell me what I can and can't copyright/own the rights to. Shit never stops. Srsly.)

~~

I need to figure out what I should make more of for the etsy. Any suggestions, dear friends and lurkers?

Me: almost blinded myself too
had the copper spray paint
it got clogged
pushed the button a few times
didn't work
turned it around to look at it
you know how this story goes.

zen_of_nihilism: :-/
is my baby copper finished?

Me: Nah--your tv was safe inside :D

Justine Larbalestier's book Liar is the antithesis of the current YA/urban fantasy/paranormal romance werewolf novels.

I can't go into it very much because the pathological liar narrator creates so many WTF moments, and you as a reader have to pay so much attention, that to start explaining it is guaranteed to start spoiling it. Hell, I've thrown a bit of a spoiler in with my intro sentence here.


I kinda get the impression it won't do as well with younger readers because it does require you to weigh and think and pay attention and make your own decisions regarding the ending . . . but fuck them anyway, I thought it was kinda neat.



Also: Angry owl will eat your face if you say "Orly?" one more time.

Jesus Christ, I lived there. I found a pigeon that'd flown into a window on that stairwell--I brought it home so it'd be okay. I've used that over-street bridge any number of times.

It's like a fucking war zone.