(no subject)
Nov. 11th, 2004 09:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickJust a couple of things today...
First off, I wish I could not sing the fucking Hagerstown Kia radio jingle. I did not want to learn this jingle. I don't like knowing all the words or automatically humming the tune that goes with it when the damn ad comes on. I think probably the fine folks at Hagerstown Kia owe me compensation for their amazingly annoying jingle.
Second, one of the things I really like about slash fandom is that, like many things chicks do, it's not enough to just do it and enjoy it and be done with it. They also have to think and write about what they're doing, why they're doing it, how they're doing it. At the risk of sounding sexist because I'm here all generalizing about the gender, with chicks, the process gets almost as much attention as the end result. I was reminded of this the other day when someone mentioned hummus -- there's a tremendous essay about hummus and slash fandom out there on the interweb.
Ender, Ronald, Richard. (They're all thirds.)
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,
About a prophecy, which says that 'G'
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here
Clarence comes.
That's one hell of an opening speech, innit?
Fourth, saw the following quote in the NYT (Login required, the bastards. I finally gave up and filled out the damn information, as I read enough of their stuff to justify it.): In one recent experiment, psychologists found that women could be as aroused by images of homosexual sex as by films of heterosexual sex. This is a provocative finding and may offer important clues to improve sexual health, but it is often not something the woman next door wants to talk about with a researcher, even anonymously. I wonder, have these people looked at the internet lately?
Fifth, the Fed raised the prime rate by 25 basis points. Go Fed!!
First off, I wish I could not sing the fucking Hagerstown Kia radio jingle. I did not want to learn this jingle. I don't like knowing all the words or automatically humming the tune that goes with it when the damn ad comes on. I think probably the fine folks at Hagerstown Kia owe me compensation for their amazingly annoying jingle.
Second, one of the things I really like about slash fandom is that, like many things chicks do, it's not enough to just do it and enjoy it and be done with it. They also have to think and write about what they're doing, why they're doing it, how they're doing it. At the risk of sounding sexist because I'm here all generalizing about the gender, with chicks, the process gets almost as much attention as the end result. I was reminded of this the other day when someone mentioned hummus -- there's a tremendous essay about hummus and slash fandom out there on the interweb.
Ender, Ronald, Richard. (They're all thirds.)
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up,
About a prophecy, which says that 'G'
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here
Clarence comes.
That's one hell of an opening speech, innit?
Fourth, saw the following quote in the NYT (Login required, the bastards. I finally gave up and filled out the damn information, as I read enough of their stuff to justify it.): In one recent experiment, psychologists found that women could be as aroused by images of homosexual sex as by films of heterosexual sex. This is a provocative finding and may offer important clues to improve sexual health, but it is often not something the woman next door wants to talk about with a researcher, even anonymously. I wonder, have these people looked at the internet lately?
Fifth, the Fed raised the prime rate by 25 basis points. Go Fed!!
