2017-02-26

sovay: (Lord Peter Wimsey: passion)
So the launch for Caitlín R. Kiernan's Agents of Dreamland was a lot of fun. I had never before interacted with the Lovecraft Arts & Sciences Council; it turns out that they are both a fantastic tiny bookstore and art shop in the Providence Arcade and the people behind NecronomiCon Providence, the biennial convention of the weird coming up in August. They had set up an open tab for the authors with New Harvest Coffee & Spirits, a lovely and generous idea; I completely failed my free booze check and instead just ordered some ginger-lemon tea with an extra slice of lemon and a ridiculous amount of honey so that I wouldn't lose my voice during the reading. There were people in attendance whom I hadn't seen since last year's Readercon. I read a short selection of poems including "Being Providence" and "An Obedience Experiment" and most of my short story "The Creeping Influences," forthcoming from Shimmer. Caitlín read the first two chapters of Agents of Dreamland and a lengthy, poetic, frequently hilarious excerpt from her novel-in-progress Interstate Love Song. I appreciate her and Spooky dropping me back at the train station afterward, because by that point the weather had gone from misty to gross; I caught the last commuter train out of Providence, finished reading Margaret Atwood's Hag-Seed (2016), started reading Grace Lin's When the Sea Turned to Silver (2016), did not commit violence either physical or verbal upon the nearby students who seemed to be engaged in an experiment to determine all possible inflections and volumes of the word "bullshit." [livejournal.com profile] derspatchel met me at South Station and after discovering that the internet was wrong about a restaurant being open (for Boston definitions of) late, we fetched up at jm Curley's for very late dinner and it all worked out fine. Today I am quite tired, but I am also baking bread with my father, which is low-key and going to be tasty, and the excursion to Providence was one of the nicest reasons I've had to get out of the house in months. Seriously, most of the rest have been protests. I would enjoy having a social life that is not 100% activism. I wish that didn't feel irresponsible to say.

1. O bel(le) inconnu(e) who sent me a DVD of Pimpernel Smith (1941) but did not include a card, thank you! If I were the sort of person who used multiple exclamation points in sentences, there would be a lot at the end of that preceding line.

2. I don't know how I spent the last fourteen years unaware of British Sea Power's "Carrion," but [livejournal.com profile] ashlyme has kindly remedied this lack. Can stone and steel and horses' heels ever explain the way you feel? From Scapa Flow to Rotherhithe, I felt the lapping of an ebbing tide. Oh, the heavy water, how it enfolds, the salt, the spray, the gorgeous undertow. Always, always, always the sea.

3. Bill H.97 is dead; long live Bill H.1190. [livejournal.com profile] teenybuffalo did some calling and discovered that this bill, which like its died-in-committee predecessor was drafted by Representative Kay Khan to prohibit the practice of so-called conversion therapies on queer and trans minors in Massachusetts, will get an as yet unscheduled public hearing at which members of the public can speak to its importance and the necessity of getting it passed. If you would like to participate in this process, call your state legislators, contact Representative Khan or her office, express your support for the bill and ask to be notified when its hearing date is set.

4. I took two silly quizzes last night: on Boston slang and political affiliation in 1917 Russia. (The latter is entirely in Russian, but the preceding page provides translations if necessary.) Apparently I am a centrist Social Revolutionary with a 100% command of Boston slang. I'm so confused about both of these.

5. I've been meaning to post this for days: Yoon Ha Lee talks about gender, representation, win conditions, and math.

6. This is also no longer current events, but I found it beautifully and intelligently written: "On the Milo Bus With the Lost Boys of America's New Right," published right as the conservative mainstream was proving with their jettisoning of Yiannopoulos that their former championing of him had nothing to do with the First Amendment and everything to do with normalizing hate speech. "This is not liberalism winning the day. This is the victorious far right purging the brownshirts."

7. Please enjoy these pictures of Eartha Kitt with kittens.

My mother will be watching the Oscars tonight. She has been listening to Hamilton all day and wants to see Lin-Manuel Miranda become the youngest-ever winner of the EGOT. (Or since he has a Pulitzer already, perhaps EGOPT.) I have decided that I would like to see Barry Jenkins' Moonlight win, even though the odds are against it. Failing that, though I did not find it flawless, I think Denis Villeneuve's Arrival. It didn't have stupid science, which almost never happens onscreen.

[edit, shortly after midnight, frenetic recourse to Facebook and Rob's Twitter feed, and a clarifying phone call from my mother who watched the entire ceremony] Good grief, that happened. Mazel tov, Moonlight!
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