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Daddy's on the ocean, running submarines
I slept nearly eleven hours last night. I really don't see how that explains the dreams of zombie apocalypse.
I've been tired all day, but after some busywork in the afternoon, it's been all right. I saw my husband briefly, in between roadshow presentations of The Hateful Eight (2015) in 70mm; I saw my cats, whose new favorite toy is the toilet paper roll, alas;![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rushthatspeaks ordered goat curry and chicken tikka masala pizza from Barbeque International for dinner with the result that I think we have a new favorite Indian restaurant, plus all the other stuff they serve. Choice of sides included basmati rice and waffle fries. I walked for about half an hour in the rain and I think it was good for me.
1.strange_selkie seems to have sent me a proto-Elamite Yule Goat. I'm all for it.
2. The Near Eastern art reminds me: I'm as out of touch with Yuletide as with everything else this year, but I should still like to point to a couple of pieces that got my attention. Cut for Tanith Lee, the goddess Tanit, Mary Renault, Lovecraft, other usual suspects.
"The Tanith Cycle." If you have ever vaguely desired in your heart a Canaanite/Carthaginian mashup retelling of the Baʿal Cycle and the Aeneid, this is the fic for you. I can believe only portions of it as translation, but it doesn't think like contemporary fiction. Dido was clever, but Tanith was a goddess. She was not a dog on a leash.
"North Cave." Mary Renault's North Face (1948) is a frustrating novel which wastes its two most interesting characters as narrative framing for the much more boring protagonists. This fic replaces Miss Fisher and Miss Searle at Wier View, but gives them something much more interesting to talk about, i.e., the recent marriage of Julian and Hilary from Return to Night (1947). It's very good at unconsciously unreliable narration, but not as cruelly as Renault sometimes uses it. Every year this fandom generates something really terrific for Yuletide and this year is no exception. Now that the Flemings had returned to their room, and she to her own, she knew beyond a doubt that the reconciliation was far worse.
"What He Took." Given the literary origins of Kyle Murchison Booth, the explicit Lovecraft crossover was inevitable. Fortunately for everyone, it's really good. I could not bring myself to strip, but I took off my shoes and socks before I walked down into the sea.
"Weep, You Skies." Any fanfiction for The Silver Metal Lover (1981) comes with its own built-in high bar: Tanith Lee's prose style, which in itself was not enough to save her own sequel Metallic Love (2005) from being a superfluous quasi-retelling. This fic gets the characterization and the language right down to the commas. And when Jane wept, I could console her, I could throw my arms around her comfortable, round body and hug her, I could stroke her beautiful bronze hair, and it was so much better than any kind of pet, better than actually having a lover proper, because it lasted, and because she was my friend.
"Home (Is a Relative Thing)." The fact that anyone even writes backstory for Gun Crazy (1950) is one of the reasons I love this fic exchange. She lived and her heart lurched toward perdition.
"Patron Saint." By the same token, I've never seen a contemporary story of Zenna Henderson's People before. The style adapts pretty well. "It used to be kittens, of all things, so I guess it's not that strange that they'd get a kick out of accumulating singing fruit."
"What Gets Inside You." Man, now I just want to rewatch A League of Their Own (1992). I liked that movie so much more than I was expecting to. He reaches up for a ball, and her arm feels the strain, her fingers and palm the satisfaction that his feels when a ball smacks his glove.
3. I really love the picture of Jack Lemmon in this photoset by Bob Willoughby. It seems to have been taken on the set of a broad romantic comedy called Luv (1967), but I want to see the movie it really belongs to—the shadowy, low-rent one with cigarette smoke and carnivals. I thought it was a production photo until the internet told me otherwise.
4. I am aware that the qualities of movies and their marketing have often nothing to do with one another, but if the Ghostbusters reboot is even slightly as awesome as these posters, it should be a lot of fun at least.
5. I genuinely hope this joke actually happened.
I've been tired all day, but after some busywork in the afternoon, it's been all right. I saw my husband briefly, in between roadshow presentations of The Hateful Eight (2015) in 70mm; I saw my cats, whose new favorite toy is the toilet paper roll, alas;
rushthatspeaks ordered goat curry and chicken tikka masala pizza from Barbeque International for dinner with the result that I think we have a new favorite Indian restaurant, plus all the other stuff they serve. Choice of sides included basmati rice and waffle fries. I walked for about half an hour in the rain and I think it was good for me.1.
strange_selkie seems to have sent me a proto-Elamite Yule Goat. I'm all for it.2. The Near Eastern art reminds me: I'm as out of touch with Yuletide as with everything else this year, but I should still like to point to a couple of pieces that got my attention. Cut for Tanith Lee, the goddess Tanit, Mary Renault, Lovecraft, other usual suspects.
"The Tanith Cycle." If you have ever vaguely desired in your heart a Canaanite/Carthaginian mashup retelling of the Baʿal Cycle and the Aeneid, this is the fic for you. I can believe only portions of it as translation, but it doesn't think like contemporary fiction. Dido was clever, but Tanith was a goddess. She was not a dog on a leash.
"North Cave." Mary Renault's North Face (1948) is a frustrating novel which wastes its two most interesting characters as narrative framing for the much more boring protagonists. This fic replaces Miss Fisher and Miss Searle at Wier View, but gives them something much more interesting to talk about, i.e., the recent marriage of Julian and Hilary from Return to Night (1947). It's very good at unconsciously unreliable narration, but not as cruelly as Renault sometimes uses it. Every year this fandom generates something really terrific for Yuletide and this year is no exception. Now that the Flemings had returned to their room, and she to her own, she knew beyond a doubt that the reconciliation was far worse.
"What He Took." Given the literary origins of Kyle Murchison Booth, the explicit Lovecraft crossover was inevitable. Fortunately for everyone, it's really good. I could not bring myself to strip, but I took off my shoes and socks before I walked down into the sea.
"Weep, You Skies." Any fanfiction for The Silver Metal Lover (1981) comes with its own built-in high bar: Tanith Lee's prose style, which in itself was not enough to save her own sequel Metallic Love (2005) from being a superfluous quasi-retelling. This fic gets the characterization and the language right down to the commas. And when Jane wept, I could console her, I could throw my arms around her comfortable, round body and hug her, I could stroke her beautiful bronze hair, and it was so much better than any kind of pet, better than actually having a lover proper, because it lasted, and because she was my friend.
"Home (Is a Relative Thing)." The fact that anyone even writes backstory for Gun Crazy (1950) is one of the reasons I love this fic exchange. She lived and her heart lurched toward perdition.
"Patron Saint." By the same token, I've never seen a contemporary story of Zenna Henderson's People before. The style adapts pretty well. "It used to be kittens, of all things, so I guess it's not that strange that they'd get a kick out of accumulating singing fruit."
"What Gets Inside You." Man, now I just want to rewatch A League of Their Own (1992). I liked that movie so much more than I was expecting to. He reaches up for a ball, and her arm feels the strain, her fingers and palm the satisfaction that his feels when a ball smacks his glove.
3. I really love the picture of Jack Lemmon in this photoset by Bob Willoughby. It seems to have been taken on the set of a broad romantic comedy called Luv (1967), but I want to see the movie it really belongs to—the shadowy, low-rent one with cigarette smoke and carnivals. I thought it was a production photo until the internet told me otherwise.
4. I am aware that the qualities of movies and their marketing have often nothing to do with one another, but if the Ghostbusters reboot is even slightly as awesome as these posters, it should be a lot of fun at least.
5. I genuinely hope this joke actually happened.