walkingshadow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
walkingshadow) wrote2006-01-24 02:07 pm
walkingshadow) wrote2006-01-24 02:07 pm
the whiskey sun is running out the night sky
at this particular moment in time it's probably a good thing i'm on dial-up (*bites tongue*) because i was seized by this strange urge to write in song titles, all song titles, with links—of course!—to the corresponding files. and am i wrong, or is that shit a whole lot cooler in theory than in practice?
and that got me thinking about hyperlinks in general, and how brilliantly efficient they are, and how that efficiency can double as significance—you can make a hyperlink say anything you want, you can direct it anywhere, and when the name of a thing and its location are together at one point (i.e. in the link itself) and separated at another (i.e. in actual cyberspace; by definition a link points somewhere else), that's juxtaposition in action, that's expectations and possible surprises and irony waiting to happen. what do you call a thing, and what is it exactly? what's the relationship between the two? what do you want it to be? What Would René Magritte Do?
anyway, this was all brought to you by the fact that i had a good weekend, though i unfortunately did not get myself a brand-new girlfriend:
friday night i took desmond bagley's the tightrope men (my dad: "here! read this!") to dunkin' donuts and drank coffee on their couch until one a.m. while i got caught up in formulaic cold-war espionage that read like a movie. i'd asked![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gjstruthseeker to text me, but she was actually working at work that night, whatever. we got it together eventually.
cousin m. and i ate chinese food while gorging on television saturday night. first we finished up the last disc of boomtown: man, i am so sorry to see that show end. though i think they must have been uncertain about whether they'd be coming back for another season (they did, but only for an episode or two, at weird times, and then the network killed them off), because the finale wasn't a cliffhanger in any way—it actually resolved major arcs and gave a bunch of characters closure. joel and his wife and their baby, that was so well done. you didn't even realize there'd been a mystery about the baby's death, because this show is honestly good about slow, subtle reveals and showing-not-telling, but they sprang this IA investigation on them in the final episode, and you're all, oooh, this has been happening all this time! and that final scene in the therapist-slash-lawyer's office, that technically was a bit of an infodump, but it read really well, just one turn after another, and then the final, final reveal and they're so fucking RELIEVED, and cousin m. was like, "they each thought they'd been responsible and they hadn't said anything, and it's been driving them apart all this time." because even though we saw kelly recovering nicely all season, it would be a goodreason excuse for joel's little flirtation with theresa (though it never went anywhere), which otherwise was just obnoxious and self-destructive.
and, oh, tom! okay, the whole tom's-working-with-IA-zomg! thing just did not faze me at all, because tom would never do it in a million billion years. i didn't even have that gasping moment of "tom! how could you!" because i knew he couldn't. and hey, he hadn't! the evil IA man was just a liiiiittle too evil, though i'd be really curious to know how IA actually works, because i think they're universally portrayed as evil, evil, EVOL among cop shows. but the way tom explained it at the end there, that whatever's between joel and him is between joel and him, you can't exploit it, that was just so stalwart and true to him and them, all of them. yay, tom. and ray, of course; there was an awful lot going on in that finale: mcnorris hit rock bottom (and cousin m. was sitting there on the couch with her two masters degrees and her many, many years in substance-abuse counseling, going, "yup, that's the way an alcoholic drinks," and "we talk about 'spiritual bankruptcy,'" and (to me, as mcnorris vomits all over the crime scene:) "have you ever had a hangover?" me: "no—but i've never been as drunk as this guy was") and ray just put two and two together and came over to swab mcnorris's broken, bloody headlight before he could wash away the evidence, and they were all in on it, ray and the detectives, all "we know what you were up to, we know what you were afraid of; and it didn't happen, but we know."
and there's still support in there from them, that element of protecting their own and protecting their friends. and mcnorris goes off to betty ford at the end! which, aww, i don't know. a little very-special-episode, but it was either that or make it so he *did* kill the john doe and then put him through a highly public and HIGHLY humiliating trial and send him off to jail, and this is not that show. or wasn't, anyway. it's about redemption and choices—hopefully good ones—it's about good people, or at least people who are trying their damnedest to do good.
after we'd finished with boomtown we watched AMC's hustle, which was entertaining, and then the first episode of wonderfalls, which was FANTASTIC. it's dead like me without dead people. inanimate objects sing off-key until she does what they tell her, and she has chemistry with the cute bartender and hates the human race. i can't think of anyone less likely to major in philosophy, but whatever. she's awesome. and she looks like rory gilmore's misanthrophic older sister.
if i'd had my act even a little bit together, i might have been able to meet up withmalelia_honu and various other assorted cool people at barnies at two p.m. on sunday, but i hadn't. they brought their sketchbooks and ordered beverages and were, i hear, generally very cool and laid-back, and they're going to push back the time to four p.m. in the future, which will be better for so many of us.
though actually i won't be able to go this sunday either, as i'll be in BOSTON. well, technically i'll be in cambridge, but i'm sure we'll make it out to boston proper at some point(s). that is: AM GOING TO VISITsilentfire, FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY. like, i bought plane tickets and everything. i'm flying up this friday and flying back not next tuesday but the tuesday after that, giving us a week and a half. my dad was like, "oh, boston? while you're there i want you to visit this obscure relative of yours whom you have never met," and i was all, "oh, good, that sounds like something i would love to do, wtf?" and yes, i still need to call my uncle. i hear it's chilly this time of year, but i have coats and scarves, etc., and know no fear. plus we intend, i'm pretty sure, to gorge ourselves on SGA footage, and lt. col. john sheppard, aka PILLAR OF HOTNESS, will no doubt keep us, um. warm.
so in lieu of the sketching circle i went to the gym, and then met up withmalelia_honu and her friend j. at the improv sunday night, as she had passes and invited us along. the emcee was amusing, but the opener (philadelphia) and the headliner (jim david) were hilarious. you know, sometimes you've been laughing so hard for so long that you think, "i might just throw up now and that wouldn't be funny at all," except that it WOULD be, because these are professionals. the improv has a two-drink minimum, so i opted for margaritas and got awesomely drunk. AWESOMELY. the kind of drunk that means i shouldn't even be thinking about mentally operating heavy machinery, but that just makes me (as mal put it) a little loopier than usual, a buzzing, cheerful, careful-where-you-fling-your-limbs drunk. other members of the audience got obnoxiously drunk and wouldn't shut up, but whatever. the comedians are professionals, and they know how to shut them down.
after the show mal wanted to throw away five dollars in the slot machines, so we did (though i think in the end it shook out to more than that), and then we hit up ben & jerry's for ice cream and sat with it outside and talked for a while, until our ice cream was gone and i was sober enough to drive myself home. mal's friend j. is a great guy—as all her friends are, she only hangs out with stand-up people, which i always feel bodes well for me—who was originally from a very small town in ohio but wears all-black now, and he giggles when he laughs. all told, a fantastic evening.
monday saw me grocery shopping for my mother and then attending step-and-sculpt with bob, a class that still kicks my ass and takes my name, but i'm working on that.
last night i watchedbarkley's SG-1 vid never die young and cried my eyes out. i'd downloaded it a couple of weeks ago, and i'd watched it and thought it was good, but i opened it back up last night and REALLY watched it and it just slayed me. her summary of it is "jack, death, life," which, yes, but it's so impossibly sad in theme and beautiful in execution: it's about being left behind—again and again—and how that's infinitely harder than being the one who leaves. i watched it half a dozen times in a row and kept crying. the song is by lori mckenna and it's able to make me cry all on its own, bringing the grand total of Songs That Make Me Cry to three (3). in case it got lost in all the blubber, that was a hearty recommendation for the vid and the song and the respective artists. go check them out.
(note: you can get tobarkley's vid index from her livejournal sidebar; the site is password-protected, but she gives the relevant information in her vid announcements.)
for a less heartbreaking link, check out this news from language log:
monday made it six days in a row i'd been to the gym, so i get today off, HA. i'll probably—hopefully—finish my mother's scarf and maybe start on one for myself. wild and crazy times, wild and crazy.
and that got me thinking about hyperlinks in general, and how brilliantly efficient they are, and how that efficiency can double as significance—you can make a hyperlink say anything you want, you can direct it anywhere, and when the name of a thing and its location are together at one point (i.e. in the link itself) and separated at another (i.e. in actual cyberspace; by definition a link points somewhere else), that's juxtaposition in action, that's expectations and possible surprises and irony waiting to happen. what do you call a thing, and what is it exactly? what's the relationship between the two? what do you want it to be? What Would René Magritte Do?
anyway, this was all brought to you by the fact that i had a good weekend, though i unfortunately did not get myself a brand-new girlfriend:
friday night i took desmond bagley's the tightrope men (my dad: "here! read this!") to dunkin' donuts and drank coffee on their couch until one a.m. while i got caught up in formulaic cold-war espionage that read like a movie. i'd asked
gjstruthseeker to text me, but she was actually working at work that night, whatever. we got it together eventually.cousin m. and i ate chinese food while gorging on television saturday night. first we finished up the last disc of boomtown: man, i am so sorry to see that show end. though i think they must have been uncertain about whether they'd be coming back for another season (they did, but only for an episode or two, at weird times, and then the network killed them off), because the finale wasn't a cliffhanger in any way—it actually resolved major arcs and gave a bunch of characters closure. joel and his wife and their baby, that was so well done. you didn't even realize there'd been a mystery about the baby's death, because this show is honestly good about slow, subtle reveals and showing-not-telling, but they sprang this IA investigation on them in the final episode, and you're all, oooh, this has been happening all this time! and that final scene in the therapist-slash-lawyer's office, that technically was a bit of an infodump, but it read really well, just one turn after another, and then the final, final reveal and they're so fucking RELIEVED, and cousin m. was like, "they each thought they'd been responsible and they hadn't said anything, and it's been driving them apart all this time." because even though we saw kelly recovering nicely all season, it would be a good
and, oh, tom! okay, the whole tom's-working-with-IA-zomg! thing just did not faze me at all, because tom would never do it in a million billion years. i didn't even have that gasping moment of "tom! how could you!" because i knew he couldn't. and hey, he hadn't! the evil IA man was just a liiiiittle too evil, though i'd be really curious to know how IA actually works, because i think they're universally portrayed as evil, evil, EVOL among cop shows. but the way tom explained it at the end there, that whatever's between joel and him is between joel and him, you can't exploit it, that was just so stalwart and true to him and them, all of them. yay, tom. and ray, of course; there was an awful lot going on in that finale: mcnorris hit rock bottom (and cousin m. was sitting there on the couch with her two masters degrees and her many, many years in substance-abuse counseling, going, "yup, that's the way an alcoholic drinks," and "we talk about 'spiritual bankruptcy,'" and (to me, as mcnorris vomits all over the crime scene:) "have you ever had a hangover?" me: "no—but i've never been as drunk as this guy was") and ray just put two and two together and came over to swab mcnorris's broken, bloody headlight before he could wash away the evidence, and they were all in on it, ray and the detectives, all "we know what you were up to, we know what you were afraid of; and it didn't happen, but we know."
and there's still support in there from them, that element of protecting their own and protecting their friends. and mcnorris goes off to betty ford at the end! which, aww, i don't know. a little very-special-episode, but it was either that or make it so he *did* kill the john doe and then put him through a highly public and HIGHLY humiliating trial and send him off to jail, and this is not that show. or wasn't, anyway. it's about redemption and choices—hopefully good ones—it's about good people, or at least people who are trying their damnedest to do good.
after we'd finished with boomtown we watched AMC's hustle, which was entertaining, and then the first episode of wonderfalls, which was FANTASTIC. it's dead like me without dead people. inanimate objects sing off-key until she does what they tell her, and she has chemistry with the cute bartender and hates the human race. i can't think of anyone less likely to major in philosophy, but whatever. she's awesome. and she looks like rory gilmore's misanthrophic older sister.
if i'd had my act even a little bit together, i might have been able to meet up with
malelia_honu and various other assorted cool people at barnies at two p.m. on sunday, but i hadn't. they brought their sketchbooks and ordered beverages and were, i hear, generally very cool and laid-back, and they're going to push back the time to four p.m. in the future, which will be better for so many of us.though actually i won't be able to go this sunday either, as i'll be in BOSTON. well, technically i'll be in cambridge, but i'm sure we'll make it out to boston proper at some point(s). that is: AM GOING TO VISIT
silentfire, FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY. like, i bought plane tickets and everything. i'm flying up this friday and flying back not next tuesday but the tuesday after that, giving us a week and a half. my dad was like, "oh, boston? while you're there i want you to visit this obscure relative of yours whom you have never met," and i was all, "oh, good, that sounds like something i would love to do, wtf?" and yes, i still need to call my uncle. i hear it's chilly this time of year, but i have coats and scarves, etc., and know no fear. plus we intend, i'm pretty sure, to gorge ourselves on SGA footage, and lt. col. john sheppard, aka PILLAR OF HOTNESS, will no doubt keep us, um. warm.so in lieu of the sketching circle i went to the gym, and then met up with
malelia_honu and her friend j. at the improv sunday night, as she had passes and invited us along. the emcee was amusing, but the opener (philadelphia) and the headliner (jim david) were hilarious. you know, sometimes you've been laughing so hard for so long that you think, "i might just throw up now and that wouldn't be funny at all," except that it WOULD be, because these are professionals. the improv has a two-drink minimum, so i opted for margaritas and got awesomely drunk. AWESOMELY. the kind of drunk that means i shouldn't even be thinking about mentally operating heavy machinery, but that just makes me (as mal put it) a little loopier than usual, a buzzing, cheerful, careful-where-you-fling-your-limbs drunk. other members of the audience got obnoxiously drunk and wouldn't shut up, but whatever. the comedians are professionals, and they know how to shut them down.after the show mal wanted to throw away five dollars in the slot machines, so we did (though i think in the end it shook out to more than that), and then we hit up ben & jerry's for ice cream and sat with it outside and talked for a while, until our ice cream was gone and i was sober enough to drive myself home. mal's friend j. is a great guy—as all her friends are, she only hangs out with stand-up people, which i always feel bodes well for me—who was originally from a very small town in ohio but wears all-black now, and he giggles when he laughs. all told, a fantastic evening.
monday saw me grocery shopping for my mother and then attending step-and-sculpt with bob, a class that still kicks my ass and takes my name, but i'm working on that.
last night i watched
barkley's SG-1 vid never die young and cried my eyes out. i'd downloaded it a couple of weeks ago, and i'd watched it and thought it was good, but i opened it back up last night and REALLY watched it and it just slayed me. her summary of it is "jack, death, life," which, yes, but it's so impossibly sad in theme and beautiful in execution: it's about being left behind—again and again—and how that's infinitely harder than being the one who leaves. i watched it half a dozen times in a row and kept crying. the song is by lori mckenna and it's able to make me cry all on its own, bringing the grand total of Songs That Make Me Cry to three (3). in case it got lost in all the blubber, that was a hearty recommendation for the vid and the song and the respective artists. go check them out.(note: you can get to
barkley's vid index from her livejournal sidebar; the site is password-protected, but she gives the relevant information in her vid announcements.)for a less heartbreaking link, check out this news from language log:
WORDPLAY'S BIG SPLASH AT SUNDANCE
A couple of months ago we were pleased to bring you the news that Patrick Creadon's documentary Wordplay had been accepted into competition at the 2006 Sundance Film Festival. Creadon's film focuses on New York Times crossword guru Will Shortz and his cultish followers, as well as providing a glimpse into the world of competitive cruciverbalism. Now it's Sundance time, and the buzz from Park City is quite promising.
monday made it six days in a row i'd been to the gym, so i get today off, HA. i'll probably—hopefully—finish my mother's scarf and maybe start on one for myself. wild and crazy times, wild and crazy.
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I have a note to thank you that somehow turned into a 2-page list of bullet points for a post. Eventually, I will type it AND click update.
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yay for gorging on SGA! the pillar of hotness - hot like FIRE - will definitely keep us, well. have i mentioned it's pretty cold up here? we need to keep the heat up. it's, like, for our *safety*.
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helllllo john sheppard. weather.com tells me exactly how cold it's supposed to be (not as bad as i'd feared, but still—cold), so i APPLAUD your, um, safety measures. proper preparation, you know!