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I've come to fix the sink
And this morning I had a set of complex anxiety dreams about construction, but that is because the plumbers arrived at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel and ratatosk's around nine o'clock and by nine-thirty had flooded the kitchen. (No, the washer hose was not supposed to do that.) Deadpanned the older of the two on his way to the downstairs half-bath: "No charge for washing the floor." I just can't believe none of us had the presence of mind to imitate a parrot.
1. I took a silly quiz! For the first time in years! Courtesy ofrinue on Facebook, WETA's Sherlock Personality Quiz. Apparently I'm Mycroft:
You are Mycroft Holmes. It's possible you hold a minor position in the government. By which we mean, you probably run it. Organized, mysterious and well-connected, you're a master of manipulation and surprisingly adept at kidnapping people. You're actually the smartest person in your family, despite the fact that most people tend to pay more attention to your more dramatic sibling. You are the person in your social circle most likely to have a minion. (Or two.) And your diet is going just fine, thank you.
I don't have any minions! Where do I file an application?
2.houseboatonstyx has alerted to me to the existence of the complete online text of Vachel Lindsay's The Art of the Moving Picture (1915, although this appears to be the revised edition of 1922). It's certainly about movies; the book has a claim to being the first significant work of film criticism. It is also at least half manifesto, verging on revelation. He is reminded of Poe every time he looks at Chaplin and wishes the makers of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari had applied German Expressionism to the myth of Isis and Osiris. (I don't actually disagree with him on that point. Especially considering Conrad Veidt.) Later on, he rhapsodizes about the Book of the Dead ("Man is an Egyptian first, before he is any other type of civilized being. The Nile flows through his heart") and the shadowy, dream-flickery likeness of a movie theater to a spell-pictured tomb, the class of scientific and artistic visionaries he refers to as prophet-wizards and inventor-seers whose necessary union he views as a kind of alchemical process ("We shall have a tin heaven and a tin earth, if the scientists are allowed exclusive command of our highest hours"), and it all goes fascinatingly transcendent in the last chapter, America as the New Jerusalem as a perpetual World's Fair:
Why should we not consider ourselves a deathless Panama-Pacific Exposition on a coast-to-coast scale? . . . If it is not possible to bring in the New Jerusalem to-day, by public act, with every citizen eating bread and honey under his vine and fig-tree, owning forty acres and a mule, singing hymns and saying prayers all his leisure hours, it is still reasonable to think out tremendous things the American people can do, in the light of what they have done, without sacrificing any of their native cussedness or kick. It was sprawling Chicago that in 1893 achieved the White City. The automobile routes bind the states together closer than muddy counties were held in 1893. A "Permanent World's Fair" may be a phrase distressing to the literal mind. Perhaps it would be better to say "An Architect's America."
Take that, John Winthrop. You only thought everyone was watching Boston?
3. Have a new photo of Emily Dickinson.
Otherwise Rob and I went to M3 for the third time in two weeks (the pan-fried catfish with harissa is much more delicately spiced than it sounds, the duck fat burger is pure savory on a bun) and Backbar for our absinthe on fire and nobody gave anyone pomegranates; no one is bound. I voted. I am making my mother's coconut-and-chicken curry. Tomorrow I seerushthatspeaks.
derspatchel and ratatosk's around nine o'clock and by nine-thirty had flooded the kitchen. (No, the washer hose was not supposed to do that.) Deadpanned the older of the two on his way to the downstairs half-bath: "No charge for washing the floor." I just can't believe none of us had the presence of mind to imitate a parrot.1. I took a silly quiz! For the first time in years! Courtesy of
rinue on Facebook, WETA's Sherlock Personality Quiz. Apparently I'm Mycroft:You are Mycroft Holmes. It's possible you hold a minor position in the government. By which we mean, you probably run it. Organized, mysterious and well-connected, you're a master of manipulation and surprisingly adept at kidnapping people. You're actually the smartest person in your family, despite the fact that most people tend to pay more attention to your more dramatic sibling. You are the person in your social circle most likely to have a minion. (Or two.) And your diet is going just fine, thank you.
I don't have any minions! Where do I file an application?
2.
houseboatonstyx has alerted to me to the existence of the complete online text of Vachel Lindsay's The Art of the Moving Picture (1915, although this appears to be the revised edition of 1922). It's certainly about movies; the book has a claim to being the first significant work of film criticism. It is also at least half manifesto, verging on revelation. He is reminded of Poe every time he looks at Chaplin and wishes the makers of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari had applied German Expressionism to the myth of Isis and Osiris. (I don't actually disagree with him on that point. Especially considering Conrad Veidt.) Later on, he rhapsodizes about the Book of the Dead ("Man is an Egyptian first, before he is any other type of civilized being. The Nile flows through his heart") and the shadowy, dream-flickery likeness of a movie theater to a spell-pictured tomb, the class of scientific and artistic visionaries he refers to as prophet-wizards and inventor-seers whose necessary union he views as a kind of alchemical process ("We shall have a tin heaven and a tin earth, if the scientists are allowed exclusive command of our highest hours"), and it all goes fascinatingly transcendent in the last chapter, America as the New Jerusalem as a perpetual World's Fair:Why should we not consider ourselves a deathless Panama-Pacific Exposition on a coast-to-coast scale? . . . If it is not possible to bring in the New Jerusalem to-day, by public act, with every citizen eating bread and honey under his vine and fig-tree, owning forty acres and a mule, singing hymns and saying prayers all his leisure hours, it is still reasonable to think out tremendous things the American people can do, in the light of what they have done, without sacrificing any of their native cussedness or kick. It was sprawling Chicago that in 1893 achieved the White City. The automobile routes bind the states together closer than muddy counties were held in 1893. A "Permanent World's Fair" may be a phrase distressing to the literal mind. Perhaps it would be better to say "An Architect's America."
Take that, John Winthrop. You only thought everyone was watching Boston?
3. Have a new photo of Emily Dickinson.
Otherwise Rob and I went to M3 for the third time in two weeks (the pan-fried catfish with harissa is much more delicately spiced than it sounds, the duck fat burger is pure savory on a bun) and Backbar for our absinthe on fire and nobody gave anyone pomegranates; no one is bound. I voted. I am making my mother's coconut-and-chicken curry. Tomorrow I see
rushthatspeaks.
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Also, absinthe on fire? green into red? How wonderful THAT must be.
Take that, John Winthrop
Can't you just see him sulking?
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Now I wish I had bought pomegranates. Damn. The fresh seeds would have to go in right at the end or they wouldn't have that crisp wet juiciness on eating, but you could add pomegranate molasses to the curry at the cooking-down stage for additional flavor. When
Also, absinthe on fire? green into red? How wonderful THAT must be.
It burns blue, actually, but it's lovely. I like most things that involve setting alcohol on fire, especially if the point is drinking or eating them afterward. I knew I needed a recipe for cherries jubilee the first time I read Patricia C. Wrede's Dealing with Dragons (1990). Rob and I have an agreement to make bananas foster sometime.
Can't you just see him sulking?
I do not think I am ever in danger of Tiny John Winthrop. Nothing stays open late enough for me in Boston.
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I find that distressingly potential. Let's excise that most likely. The fact that you have not yet come into possession of said minions does not mean that you will not still be the first.
(two, count them, two comments, and my unreliable evening Internet has not yet crapped out!)
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Thank you! I shall maintain an optimistic outlook.
(two, count them, two comments, and my unreliable evening Internet has not yet crapped out!)
Bravo, internet! Contributing for once to discourse that doesn't suck!
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*hmf*... I could have a minion if I wanted to. It's just I've got too much to do right now.
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*snerk*
... I could have a minion if I wanted to. It's just I've got too much to do right now.
Get a minion! You'll have less to do!
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Ah, now to find the alternate universe where there is a German Expressionist Isis & Osiris.
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I think he's what happens if you check all the boxes for intelligence but would actually save your pet in the event of a fire.
Ah, now to find the alternate universe where there is a German Expressionist Isis & Osiris.
Burn me a DVD!
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And here I thought the work schedule made the difference.
Ah, now to find the alternate universe where there is a German Expressionist Isis & Osiris.
Burn me a DVD!
Working on it. Alternate universe film preservation is a tricky business. We're still rescuing uncut Josef Von Sternberg films...
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And it's hard comparing prints when the frames won't maintain the same level of quantum stability.
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I wish I knew. I could probably use a minion or two, myself. My dog says she's my minion, but her notion of being a minion seems closer to my being her minion.
2.
Interesting. Thanks for sharing this.
3. Have a new photo of Emily Dickinson.
Thanks! It's interesting that there are so few photographs of her--I wasn't aware of that.
...nobody gave anyone pomegranates; no one is bound.
That's good.
I am making my mother's coconut-and-chicken curry.
Sounds delicious. Is it made of coconut milk, or pieces of coconut flesh? Or both?
I hope ye have a lovely tomorrow.
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Me neither, actually. So of course the one photograph becomes even more of an icon than famous artists usually are. I like that we might have another angle on her now.
Sounds delicious. Is it made of coconut milk, or pieces of coconut flesh? Or both?
Chicken cooked in coconut milk. We use curry powder, so I'm not making any claims to authenticity, but a lot of fresh ginger, lots of fresh garlic, extra turmeric. Chopped napa cabbage, bok choy, my mother likes tomatoes, I don't. I throw in extra cardamom and cinnamon when I make it, because I like that sort of thing. Sometimes there are cherries.
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!!
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It's like finding Phineas Gage.
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I remember.
c/o Diogenes Club
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Heliocentric solar system! Not round you!
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(I was holding out for Wiggins; it's a shame The Baker Street Irregulars never made it to Sherlock.)
I am *drooling* at the thought of of an Expressionist Isis and Osiris. Not doing my netbook any good, but my God, I would love to see that.
Duck is the one meat I miss from time to time; I'd definitely join you in a flaming absinthe though, even with the risk of rigor mortis to follow. Have a good day with Rush.
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Part-time minion? You'd still be ahead of me.
I am *drooling* at the thought of of an Expressionist Isis and Osiris. Not doing my netbook any good, but my God, I would love to see that.
You know, if the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society can make a 1927 Call of Cthulhu . . .
Duck is the one meat I miss from time to time
I am essentially carnivorous: I would have a very hard time going vegetarian for any reason other than strictly medical. We raised ducklings for a few years when I was small, but it didn't stop me knowing they were delicious.
I'd definitely join you in a flaming absinthe though, even with the risk of rigor mortis to follow.
All right: when you come to Boston, it's a plan!
Have a good day with Rush.
Thank you! I think we will.
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See, now I have to jailbreak my Kindle so I can put the new Dickinson photo on there; the sketch of her always makes me happy when it turns up.
America as the New Jerusalem as a perpetual World's Fair
I'm not sure I should forgive my brain for immediately mashing this together with Men in Black. And then adding in Journey of the Magi; something about the vine-leaves...
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That is pretty awesome.
I'm not sure I should forgive my brain for immediately mashing this together with Men in Black. And then adding in Journey of the Magi; something about the vine-leaves...
You get anything out of that, I want to read it!
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2. The "I'm the plumbah; I'm heyah to fix duh sink" is one of my favorite earworms.
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Perky Sherlock: an intriguing yet terrifying concept. But a very good band name.
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Otherwise Rob and I went to M3 for the third time in two weeks (the pan-fried catfish with harissa is much more delicately spiced than it sounds...)
Because nothing says Southern dining like harissa! Sounds terrific.
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Aw. An incurable romantic with a lot of bodies in your lab.
Because nothing says Southern dining like harissa! Sounds terrific.
We could go sometime. The entire back of their menu is beers.
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Don't know why, but I'm very struck by that line, and would be equally so if the pronoun were anything else. Pan-fried catfish? Oh, God. That sounds so good it's torturous.
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Poem?
Pan-fried catfish? Oh, God. That sounds so good it's torturous.
It's an incredibly impressive restaurant! We've ordered different dishes every time we've gone (with the exception of the deep-fried fluffernutter dessert, which is self-evidently the best choice on the menu) and it's all been good! We haven't yet gotten there for straight lunch as opposed to brunch on the weekends, but I expect it to be equally delicious when we do. The chicken waffle nuggets need to be added to the regular menu stat.