bliumchik: (Default)
I trapped a tiny spider under the box that holds my retainers. I should have got new ones last year or the year before, but my orthodontist kept saying I wouldn't need them at all soon. Then my wisdom teeth showed up, and they said to ask again once I got them out, but alas: procrastination. I thought I killed the spider but the centre of the box is raised on the bottom, and it ran away when I lifted the box again. I let it go.

There are seven toothbrushes in my bathroom. The little dinosaur one is my brother's, and mine is one of the green pair (I can never remember which). The dark red one is old and has been consigned now to those hard-to-reach places belonging to the bathroom sink. That leaves three pink ones and whichever green one isn't mine. Can my mother possibly be using all of them? My dad only ever uses their en-suite, but mum thinks it's too cold on that side of the house. The toothbrushes are never put away, so it doesn't seem like you could accidentally open a new one before you needed it, but my mother works in mysterious ways.

Today she decided the fridge needed cleaning. It did, but she only got as far as taking everything out before falling asleep in front of the TV. When I found her and turned it off, she woke up, mumbled about her stomach and went upstairs. Dad came home while I was cleaning the fridge shelves and we had a nice chat as we returned all the produce whence it belonged, including the five roots of ginger and two of turmeric that mum bought on a whim and none of us actually know what to do with. Also beetroot. Do any of us eat beetroot? Why do we have so much parsley? The only dish I know of incorporating large quantities of parsley is boscaiola pasta, but I know this because Alexander likes to make it. That doesn't normally happen at my house. My parents' house. My house. My parents' house. Double vision.

Double vision. I still expect my cat to turn up underfoot. Poor old thing. We didn't even bury her, we figured the vet would know what to do with animal corpses. My parents are thinking of minding a foster kitty for a few weeks. Not my responsibility. No pets allowed where I'll be living now, or at least no mammals. I like snakes. Do I still have that tiny mummified lizard somewhere? I'm going to have to move all my knick knacks off the bookshelf and decide which ones to take with me. Finally an excuse to leave behind the porcelain dolls my grandma gave me that I never played with. They can gather dust somewhere else.

My grandparents (or rather the more active busybody in each pair, being my paternal grandmother and my maternal grandfather), collectively appear to be worried that my new flatmate will either seduce me, steal my shit, or seduce some random guy who will then steal my shit. They're also vaguely relieved that I'm moving into a white-ish neighborhood. Previous generations, huh? Alexander offers in consolation that a) he's just down the train line to ~protect my virtue~ and b) his grandma is technically the class enemy. I think that's because she owns property and rents it out at market value. Alexander is very concerned about the housing market in his area, specifically its place in the gentrification of a traditionally poor black neighborhood and dispersal of housing commission tenants to economically dead outer suburbs. Or something like that, I get this stuff basically by osmosis - it's hard to follow along on any individual rant because of his tendency to interrupt himself four times in a row with nesting parentheses. This is as yet more cute than irritating. I've made a game out of counting the levels of tangent and then holding up a number of fingers and saying "ding ding ding." One must find amusement where one can.

The place in Summer Hill has nothing on the walls yet. I meant to write more on the ceiling of my room here, so the words from that insomniac episode was a few years ago seemed more artistic, but I didn't get around to it. I'm moving into a smaller room and one I can't write on because of that large bond I just transferred. On the other hand - no more surprise ginger. My dad says ginger juice tastes awful. I'm going to miss him.


Aug. 10th, 2010 12:13 am
bliumchik: THIS IS NOT SPARTA. I AM LOST. (scenic detour!)
So. I'm 21.


*hides under blankets and misc items of furniture*

But seriously, how do I feel? Well, I had meant to do a whole bunch of things by now, sort of as a red carpet lead-in to Officially Being An Adult (In Absolutely Every Country That Counts, No Excuses Any More, Seriously). Most of them fell by the wayside like 90% of the things I plan do. In the end it just sort of happened. So if an occasion like this can be considered a portent or microcosm of one's life in general... I suppose it suits me? I've muddled through everything so far, and I suppose I'll muddle through the rest.

This weekend was a Neil Gaiman extravaganza, my birthday present to myself (or, I like to think, my birthday present from the universe, which conveniently scheduled the Graphic festival at Sydney Opera House right before my birthday). It followed pattern, if by pattern you mean "awesome with crunchy bits of fail," which as we have already established is, in fact, my pattern. I now have many books and slightly more rage at bus drivers! Memorable quote of Sunday's panel was Neil Gaiman telling Eddie Campbell that he'd love to see Frank Frazetta's Peanuts. Also Shaun Tan was cute. Saturday was a short story reading with illustrations by the aforementioned Campbell and accompanied by a string quartet, which was. Unique. They were pretty great! Although my current musical obsession is Van Canto, an a capella metal band. RIDDLY DIDDLY DIDDLY I CAN'T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD


Um other things I have discovered recently! New webcomic! It is mostly about... other comics. Haha back here they do Kate Beaton and Scott Pilgrim in a row. MY PEOPLE!

Speaking of Pilgrim, the movie is out in a few days! And I still haven't read the last book! Although Ramona has coincidentally similar hair to me for half the trailer!

What's new in the rest of the internet?
bliumchik: (hat)
Gosh, getting back into this blogging thing is hard. I've gotten out of the habit of recording stuff I do. I forget about it really easily. What did I do last week? Beats me. I've always had massive blank patches in my memory, I don't know, probably a lot of people do, but sometimes I get anxious like things I haven't told anybody about never really happened. It doesn't help that my fall-off-the-face-of-the-blog periods tend to coincide with times when my head is foggy and I can't concentrate on things, much like I feel now since I have decided to blog in the evening after basically just messing around on the internet all day. Good job, Maggie!

So what I have been doing is seeing friends and procrastinating heavily, mostly! On Thursday I went to [ profile] mishka_jayne's birthday do with Al. We were late because when I dropped by his house to pick him up he was still picking knots out of his epic, epic hair, having wasted much of the morning arguing about Hugo Chavez on facebook. This tells you pretty much everything you need to know about him. We got there eventually, ate delicious sushi and watched Inception, which was mindfuckingly awesome. I have been raving about it all over the place, all I shall say here is MUST WATCH SEVERAL MORE TIMES and then write fic :D

The next morning Al had a 9am plane to catch for a cousin's wedding in Queensland, which meant that I had to wake up at six in the goddamn morning and help him locate things like hairbrushes that had been eaten by his room. Now, my room is pretty messy, right. Piles of clothes everywhere and all, books and comics, sure. But I, at least, do not have rogue cutlery haunting my room. He claims that the mess has character, so I named it Baldrick. It works on pretty much every level, I am quite pleased with myself.

Anyway, I went home to shower and then came right back again to have dinner with Avi, Jess, Alice and Joy in Newtown. We ate large volumes of vegan food and then wandered all the way up and down King street looking for a particular gelato place Avi insisted had vegan chocolate sorbet, to no avail. We ended up in one of the classier sex shops, ogling latex skirts and handcuffs and comparing er, notes. Also, discovered a) an entire case of what looked like nothing so much as sex toys designed by Apple, and b) that there is a rechargable vibrator you plug into USB ports to charge. I discovered this last one by pointing at it and saying "Gosh, even your flash drives look like vibrators..."

The rest of my weekend has been nowhere near as novel, consisting largely of sitting inf ront of the computer and being shouted at by my mother. \o/ However I did at least cull my epic volume of open tabs just slightly. So, not ENTIRELY unproductive.

I have finally caught up on and added to my regular reading a non-English webcomic! Here's an update that is totally understandable to everyone, though :P (also, punk rock god [and son]: who CARES what they're saying!) (Also I think I just translated a Russian cuss as "becoming covered in dick.")

Also I have been listening to music here, it's pretty sweet!

And just now I got eaten by Youtubehopping Adam Hills videos. BRB DED OF LOL
bliumchik: Jared Padalecki's thinkyface (deep thought)
I really need to relocate my mornings to the actual, you know, morning. I've lately spent hours after midnight doing nothing in particular and then woken up at one pm, and it's not doing me much good.

So yeah, today was mostly consumed with sleeping and waiting around for a friend to confirm whether or not he was flaking on a thing until it became obvious that he was, in fact, flaking on the thing, by the fact that he had not called me to confirm or deny flaking on the thing. There did eventually turn out to be a good reason, but it has become apparent that I really can't handle not knowing what's going on (especially when a definite cancellation would free me up for something else). I end up all jittery and trying to ring obviously-out-of-reception phones repeatedly and not getting other useful things done (not that that last one is exclusive to this phenomenon :P) and generally not being in the best place. I'm going to have to start mapping things out more thoroughly and explicitly with regards to backup plans and confirmations.

To more cheerful news! I wrote a fic for [community profile] access_fandom's Festibility: The Uncertain Trumpet, X-Men gen.

I mean to write more of those prompts, because there are some really interesting ones, but I figure I should get started on some stuff I promised for [profile] gulf_aid_now. (Also on my epic mess of a room and all the shit I promised myself I'd get done before I turned 21, lol whoops)

Incidentally, I have actually been reading my flist and all while I wasn't posting. This has not helped the situation of my six million tabs, oh well.
bliumchik: (nothing sus)
Well, my two-week flood of assessment deadlines is over! Now I have at least three weeks before the next one starts, and I am naturally going to use them to procrastinate.

In TOTALLY UNRELATED NEWS, Portal is free from Steam for another week or so :D guys, I get motion sickness from this game. And it's awesome. I do not even.

So anyway, since handing in my final assignment last Friday I've been tumbling and shooting portals at things and vegging out on the internet, woo! This sluggish state has been partly in response to the freedom from all that writing about socialists and french philosophers and moths, and partly in order to recover from Friday itself, which was approximately 36 hours long. (PS: I totally started this post on Tuesday :P oops!)

cut for length of the recount and a bunch of random tangents and an aside on the topic of good-touch/bad-touch and uh I got a little carried away...? )
bliumchik: Jared Padalecki's thinkyface (deep thought)
Getting back into posting here with any degree of regularity is easier said than done. Rusty, I guess. There is also the question of what form I want this blog to take in the future - do I continue as, essentially, a diarist, or do I only post when I have Something To Say, or should I return to my blog the random-thought-receptacle function now usurped by twitter?

Decisions like these are made continuously, on the net. I didn't even think about them when I started blogging at the tender age of fifteen, aside from the occasional dilemma regarding the degree of disclosure I was comfortable with regarding incidents that involved people who might actually read this. Funnily enough I mostly settled on nothing but my love life being off-limits... not taboo but discreet. Then again, everyone I dated before read this journal (yes, both of them) while my current is a bit of a luddite. People who know him read this, though, which leaves some things firmly in the realm of TMI (or maybe it would have been like that regardless). I've always been astonishingly blase about TMI in the general sense, and equally oversensitive about it in the specific. My embarrassment squick: it functions really fucking weirdly. I feel okay about contemplating a post about my intimacy issues and how bizarre yet lovely physical contact is, but writing up a date seems wrong despite the actual events depicted being practically identical to many other occasions I have chronicled here.

Tangent. It's just that I'm twenty now, and even as I sometimes come to a total full stop epiphany about how bloody young (we all are) I am this feels like something I can and should be held accountable for now. In the standard Get Famous, Have Biography Written About You hypothetical, stuff you write when you're sixteen is stuff you can smile at and say "aw, silly tiny pastme," but stuff you write when you're twenty is much harder to divorce from your identity. This is Me, not Minime. This isn't going under Early Years.

I feel sorry for people who only got onto the internet post this Age Of Reason epoch. I've had years and I'm still only just cementing points of internet ettiquette in my habits. It must suck to realise that not only were you a douche to somebody on the internet that one time, but you were actually (nominally) a rational adult when you did it, and people expected better of you. (related reading open in my tabs right now: How to disagree, How to want to change your mind. Actually though the main thing that it has literally taken me all this time to realise is that the age-old noob-pwning heuristic of LURK MOAR compacts an essay's-worth of Sensible Things About The Internet. Someday I might write the essay.)

Tangent. I have 2000 words due Friday, another set Tuesday and yet another next Friday. I'm procrastinating. You may as well ask me anything (you can totally do that in comments, too... it's just my formspring hasn't seen use in a while :P)
bliumchik: (fight the system)
Good evening, internet! It is for once Before Midnight and I am writing a blog post!

I have been a busy little maggot this week, for varying values of busy that alternate between internet-cyborg-zombie and person-who-leaves-the-house-wearing-clothes. My casual online tutor work has started up again, so now I have an EXCUSE to sit in front of the computer for hours at a time! Also on Friday I accidentally went to a trance club. The night began promisingly, with young ladies stealing my roll of gaffer-tape to prepare their breasts for later semi-naked acrobatics and all, but I went home early because I had forgotten my wallet and felt too awkward sober. Also, I was hungry. So I came home and made a steak at one in the morning. Class~!

Anyway, a thing which I wanted to talk about was the Ladies: Why You Be Putting Yo'selves Down stuff going round earlier this week. I shall link to the Tiger Beatdown post because that is where I came across it and also because I agree with pretty much all of it, Sady is a sensible person and I love her blog. She and Amanda Hess continue the conversation here, and that post in particular felt oddly, nay, horrifyingly familiar.

You see, people do this around me all the time. I shan't name names, but I've been dealing with various close friends moaning about how fat they apparently are since I was fourteen. And I never got it, and I could never think of an appropriate response, because "no you're not" got old fast when it was clearly making no impact, since the conversation would repeat verbatim ad nausea, and talking about how stick-thin is not the only way to be pretty skirts the minefield of calling them fat by dint of not gushing about how skinny they are. Sometimes I'd cynically think to myself, "She is just fishing for compliments, god!" but I never particularly minded handing them out - it was just, you know. Boring.

I never really thought about this weird female habit in context, in terms of the whole patriarchal structure of feminine downplaying and tearing down and submissive gestures. I never really felt the urge myself - I guess those couple years of preadolescent socialisation I missed out on were good for something, huh? On the other hand, I am always going on about how clumsy and forgetful I am. It's not in a "please reassure me" way, it's more an instinct to lower expectations, I suppose, but now I'm wondering if that's part of this phenomenon, or if it has more in common with the gender-neutral Class Clown syndrome, as I've always thought.

All that can't hide the fact that this really is a Thing, that women are taught to do, and it still sucks. It's hard to know what to do about it. I still don't know how to respond when people (read: women) (...and Shaun, now that I think about it) put themselves down. I'm thinking of a compliment-ambush strategy, or something, I don't know. But if you're reading this, if you're reading the posts I linked above (and I hope you read those because they are awesome) and you are thinking shit, that's me, then I'd like to hear about what goes through your head in those conversations, what it is that I never got from your perspective. And yeah, I'd like it to happen less often, but not at the expense of your feeling able to express your insecurities to me, because what else are friends for? I only want to hear that stuff less because you're thinking it less. And I of all people know how tricky and unpredictable brain-hackery is, but I do believe that sometimes, when we're aware of a Thing we do that we do not want to do, we can do something about it. Remember when I used to have panic attacks on buses? You probably don't. Hell, I barely do. But I do remember it's slow, it starts small. And here this rambling dovetails neatly with a meme I've been meaning to post, via [ profile] jk_rockin and [ profile] mishka_jayne!

Reply to this post, and I'll tell you one reason why I like you. Then repost this [if you like] and spread the love.

Except! Amendment! Especially for if you are a lady (or shaun)!

Reply to this post with something you like about yourself. No cop-out complinsults please! I know you've got it in you! And if you don't I will still do the original meme above, so no pressure or anything, but try. For me.

AND IF YOU DON'T COMMENT, Certain People, well... I know where you live (on the internet). I will hunt you down. And some day, when you least expect it... I will... SAY NICE THINGS ABOUT YOU.
bliumchik: Item: trebuchet. Item: zombie. Sound effect: braaAAAAaains. Zombie Badminton: priceless.  (zombieminton)
Today I spent two hours watching daytime television waiting downstairs for the dude who bought my bro's old crib on ebay, and he finally showed up just as I gave up and went upstairs and switched on the computer. Bah! I did however discover that there is a surprisingly large volume of Australian fantasy TV shows with hilarious props (and a puppy). Also hilarious: The Naked Chef. That dude is ridiculous! (Caveat: not actually naked :/ oh well)

Having finished yuletide feels so amazingly good. It's like this whole year wasn't a productive write-off because I finished something. Something I made a committment to, on time, not half-arsed. I think it bodes well for 2010. I want to make sure I set up systems this summer, habits to carry me through the winter slump, to keep things going. I never want another six-month fell-off-the-face-of-the-internet hiatus, because if I can't post here then the anxiety must have a goddamn stranglehold on me. I want to pick up the guitar again, and draw things, and motherfucking write.

Although at the moment I am just bumming around because my parents are on holiday for a week! With my brother! Things are going to stay where I put them again :D

I never posted about my Hellfire adventure! Gothing [personal profile] frostickle up was hilarious, but eating a burger while waiting for him was a bad plan - I was terribly sober for most of the night. I even slipped some vodka in my tea while I was putting eyeliner on David, but to no avail! I was nervy and awkward all evening. I have discovered that I am quite good at dancing in, you know, the general vicinity of people - still freeze up a bit when they get close though. Somehow despite this... I... you guys, did somebody write "please invite me into your bisexual kissing orgy" on my forehead while I was unconscious and I haven't noticed? Or what? :P

*cough* ANYway. The scenery in the club was awesome (skin, chains and latex being the mode), and the atmosphere very safe - they even had a little list of rules which specifically advised dudes to let women hit on them instead of the other way round, because of the high lesbian ratio. Later a dude got up onstage with an acoustic guitar and sang a little song about getting drunk and throwing up on someone. I loled. I made friends with a random in a hat, my photo was taken by a girl covered in christmas lights and I saw a woman dressed as a catholic priest with a little dog. It was a fun night! I went home around four, got up again at one o'clock to go audition for a production of Ruby Moon that some people at my uni, although apparently unaffiliated with TROUTS, are putting on.

Then on Sunday I met up with the Internets and had lunch at an extremely asian steakhouse where they bring out the meat on a hotplate and you sort of cook it as much as you like. Then we went to Kinokunia, where we loled at the Ouran Host Club manga, which is exactly as metatastic and hilarious as the anime.

Now I am hibernating ^_^ although I feel like I SHOULD have a party, or SOMETHING. Maybe that ancient-TV-shows marathon? It has been a long time since I've watched the Addams family.
bliumchik: Dr. Horrible laughs evilly (mine is an evil laugh)
funny pictures of cats with captions

Hokay. Wow. That was probably- no, definitely the longest unannounced hiatus I've ever fallen into. I tend to measure my mental health by hobbies dropped, and I haven't played guitar in about the same amount of time... so it's probably a good thing I've finally gotten onto that medicare psychologist thing. On the other hand, I hadn't drawn anything since year eleven of high school, and lately my notes have been covered in cute birds instead of random geometric patterns, so possibly things are on the up!

So livejournal (and dreamwidth!), what have I been up to during my lurkernation!?

Well. Let me see...


So. State Of The Maggie. I have not failed uni or dropped out of it to have a nervous breakdown. I have more or less stopped sulking about being dumped (I think). In related news I also think I have begun to figure out this whole casual flirting thing, in that the last time I got hit on (...I think) I did not freak out nearly at all, which bodes well for the future. I have made a start on sorting out all the junk in my room. I have summer plans. I have comics. I have awesome friends.

I think I'm okay.

I'm back!
bliumchik: (hat)
Pheeew. That essay was more of a bitch than it really ought to have been. Thanks, weird psychological issues!1 Anyway, now I'm done done done and I washed my hair and it is a lovely day and I have another week of holidays left to actually be holidays!

B3ta's weekly newsletter is out and hilarious as always. I am particularly amused by We Didn't Start The Flame War and of course the Question of the Week has some great answers, mostly involving alcohol. I'm Captain Oblivious over there, incidentally.

I got a Dreamwidth invite code! Random draw of validated OpenID accounts, it turns out.

[Poll #1386096]

I'm sort of sick of maggiebloome since it was my preferred pen-name circa 2002? But changing it might make me harder to find. On the other hand I intend to post a link to my dreamwidth account on LJ and vice versa anyway.

Judicious research already has me going :/ because the read-LJ-flist-on-DW feature is still in "figure out how the hell we can implement it" stage. I really don't want yet another friends page to check all the time, so if that comes online I'll probably shift over there permanently, provided of course that a significant portion of my flist is there. Until then I'll just use it the way I'm currently using my OpenID, except with icons and a profile and stuff. Speaking of which, how do I cross-post? I totally intended to figure out how to do it back when I got an insanejournal (...I don't even remember what my username is there now, I just use LJOpenID) but my computer was sort of dying at the time and I didn't want to install software and figure out how to use it only to have it collapse on me.

Anyway, upshot of which is I am not abandoning you, LJ people! I'm just hedging my bets :P

Also I'm totally pwning at Facebook scrabble, but the site hangs up at inconvenient moments. Like, say, for the first minute and a half of my two-minute turn. STOP IT, FACEBOOK SCRABBLE.

1Goes something like this: Wow that sure is a lot of work to do I might fail it ADRENAL RESPONSE OF DETH oh look solitaire OH SHIT DEADLINE now I really will fail it MOAR STRESS HORMONES OF FREAKING THE FUCK OUT ahhh calm relaxing solitaire. Rinse, repeat. In a further delightful twist, there is a peripheral system in which I cannot, while in the throes of alternating frantic typing with desperate stress-avoidance procrastination, do anything ELSE that might actually be useful or even particularly fun, beause that is like admitting I give up. If I'm just playing solitaire I COULD STOP ANY MOMENT and go back to the work I'm avoiding.2

And that, boys and girls, is why I have not updated my livejournal for a week and this morning I found a spider in my shower. It went "running water?? In the SHOWER? WTF WHY WOULD THAT HAPPEN THAT NEVER HAPPENS AAAH" and then ran up the wall and glared at me.

2Weirdly enough knowing exactly how my issues work does not actually help me not have them does this happen to anyone else?


Mar. 26th, 2009 09:57 pm
bliumchik: (quantum)
Oh hey look, my comment about Skinner's pigeons made it into Neil Gaiman's blog. \o/

(whenever I send anything to a ~famous person, by which I mean anybody I admire who does not know me personally, I always feel terrified that they will look at it and go "who is this awkward person >:[ this is dumb." So it is good to have proof otherwise :P)

Real entry to come soonish. Meanwhile I have to vacate this computer so have a

From [ profile] soberloki: Dear readers,

I have suffered complete identity-loss amnesia. Please fill in the blanks. Tell me who I am! I trust you, my friends, to tell me only the truth and to steer me in the right direction.
bliumchik: Jared Padalecki's thinkyface (deep thought)
So the other day I was thinking about that whole SF/F racism kerfuffle again (people who are sick of it feel free to skip this post) and about trying to unpack some of my own unconscious issues. (I would like to note before I start that I am not holding my hand out for Nice White Lady Cookies here, seeing as people have been accused of that throughout and often rightly so. I'm just trying to verbalise this for myself and guess it might be food for thought for somebody else too.) cut for rambling )
bliumchik: (fight the system)
Okay, okay, I TRIED to stay out of it because I KNEW it would be full of the same old infuriating People Who Just Don't Get It, but I caved. I read up on the blowout currently going by RaceFail 09. And I found to my surprise that I did, in fact, have something to say about it.

Okay, firstly, to get it out of the way, my take on writing characters with a different cultural background to my own )

Now, on to the actual controversy. EDIT: I got distracted and ended up waffling about something only vaguely related? So my actual comments about the actual internet kerfuffle are in the next post. *looks sheepish* All right. So. The thing about fantasy is - quick summary of my understanding of the background here before I get into what I think I can actually add to the discussion. The thing about fantasy is that offensive themes are very easy to disguise in it. Mostly subconsciously. Because, of course, it's not our world. Back before anyone was really talking about Coded Language and whatnot it was very easy for someone whose personal worldview was very self-centered to create a fictional world in which all those pesky things which do not fit either don't exist or are warped into something that doesn't make them uncomfortable. It's still easy, it's just nowadays people actually notice and talk about it. And nowadays most good fantasy writers are not quite so blatantly xenophobic as, for example, H. P. Lovecraft. The problem is that most good fantasy writers regardless of race grew up READING fantasy written by white people for whom race was a d'n'd style straitjacket. Like Tolkein, who imagined the whole world to be a cookie-cutter clone stamp of about a hundred acres of British countryside. Can't really blame him. After all, the man lived on an island.

and some more waffle )

This post has been getting more and more poetically incoherent as the time gets closer to four am. What I'm trying to say is I believe our lack of humility is in part geographic, and our construction of race in opposition, of whiteness and Other, is influenced by that disconnect. (Obviously I realise that non-island nations also have racist and nationalist dialogues. But go and count how many of them are not primarily based on territory, religion or both, go and count how many involve an conflict that did not begin across a national border or a line of scripture.)

And western framing leaks, we impose our ways of dividing society on the rest of the world whether purposefully or otherwise. Information flows OUT from us, and it is SO easy not to look elsewhere, not to look in any other way than this one. Is it any wonder that our fantasy worlds take on that same affect?

I want to see a fantasy Eurasia. I want to see countries upon countries upon ex-empires upon conquerors upon conquered, I want to see DEPTH to the history of fantasy universes, I want to see a character get six completely different Once And Future Exposition speeches from six different Wise Old Folks who live within sixty kilometres of each other. I want to see descriptions of racial characteristics that don't stand out like a sore thumb because everyone but that character defaults to fantasy-caucasian, I want to go through ten characters before one repeats a skin colour. I want friendly four-way arguments about religion in which none of them are barely-disguised Wicca or obviously-coded Christianity or Generic Oriental Philosophy X.


Possibly what I want is more Ursula K. Le Guin. Yes, I do! I want people who have learned from her! After all, it's fantasy. If you can write anywhere full of anyone, why write Grandad Tolkein's Good Old Days?
bliumchik: (Default)
It's been a while since I nattered on about science and religion in this journal, but Nicky linked me to the whole crocoduck kerfuffle (just... just google it) and I couldn't help getting a bit riled up. So uh, this is cut for your convenience )
bliumchik: Mommy, I dropped my giant cowsicle!  :( (Um.)
Argh. Somehow I have to learn how not to freak out in large groups of people. Either that or identify the critical mass at which just one extra person tips the group over into "too many." I couldn't sleep and I had this long emo rant about bottomless pits and my intimacy issues and then I realised that totally wasn't the point, I was just projecting thanks to reading too much fanfiction: the point was I got edgy when the crowd showed up, mellowed out briefly thanks to something blue in a martini glass (those things are hard to carry, it's like the angle of the glass was purposefully designed for ease of spillage) and possibly should have quit while I was ahead and gone home before I sobered up.

The really interesting thing is that my meltdowns are always postponed these days. Gone are the days of sneaking off to the bathroom in the middle of dinner to wear fingerprints in somebody else's sink and try not to cry. Now all the tension is stored up in my shoulders like a coiling spring to be let out when it's over. On the one hand this means that there is no way to KNOW whether leaving earlier would have been an improvement, but on the other hand it's probably not that healthy. I do it during family fights, as well, in fact we all have the tendency and it means an argument is never really over, because we don't settle it so much as dismiss it, only to have it rise up later as a generic resentment that has no answer.

Another paradox is that I feel like I have to get the rest of my life in order to not feel so unmoored in social situations... yet it's pretty much impossible to find a corner of my life that is NOT social. I should have just gone into science, then I would have had an excuse to be a misfit. Also then I could have built a death ray. It just doesn't feel the same to cackle "I'll show them all! I'll write baffling yet poignant poetry in small obscure magazines and own many strange hats!"
bliumchik: Jared Padalecki's thinkyface (deep thought)
Stan says:
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
bah, catholics
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
okay, paradox:
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
how can anyone believe in heaven and hell at the same time? observe:
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
1. Presume the existence of hell
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
2. Presume the existence of heaven, and that virtuous souls go there.
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
3. Most people would define a virtuous soul as someone who can't stand other people's suffering.
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
4. So, how can heaven be "paradise" if everyone there knows that billions of their fellow human beings are suffering horribly for all eternity? What kind of saint would consider that heaven?
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
Therefore: If hell exists, then anyone for whom heaven is, in fact, heavenly, does not deserve to be there.
Stan says:
Stan says:
unless catholics believe that someone who has lived a sinful life is deserved of their suffering
Stan says:
Stan says:
that once you hit heaven your concern for other human beings is no longer needed
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
But considering some of the fairly minor reasons for catholics to go to hell...
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
human compassion has never been bounded by "deserving" rhetoric
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
hell is supposed to be infinite suffering
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
and you can go there for lying to your mother and then getting hit by a car before you can find a priest to confess to
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
so that's unlikely
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
which leaves your second proposition
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
...that your compassion is surgically removed in the afterlife? what the hell?
Stan says:
well is it really that strange compared to the rest of it?
Stan says:
ive never really understood heaven
Stan says:
are there other people?
Stan says:
do they have free will?
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
I don't think anyone really thought that through
Stan says:
if they do, what if they get pissed off and ruin your heaver "experience"
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
they were just like "heaven is really good yall AND DON'T BE BAD OR ALL THIS DESCRIPTIVE LANGUAGE WILL HAPPEN TO YOU. But if you're good, heaven! It's uh... good."
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
I'm not sure if it's even described at any point in the bible
[ profile] maggiebloome says:
hmm, actually think I'll look that up

(LJ-ify your IMs before pasting!)

I did. The Sceptic's Annotated Bible is handy like that. Turns out they pretty much don't ever tell you what's actually in the Kingdom of Heaven, either assuming everyone already knew or deliberately leaving it blank so people could fill in whatever they like best. One reference obliquely suggests they thought of it as a second Garden of Eden, but that's it. (The apostles all sound like really canny politicians, by the way, when you translate the Ye Olde Speake. They were probably wasted on a bunch of farmers, seed metaphors and all.) So basically, my paradox is dependent on people believing that heaven is a place where you go and everything is perfect, and the bible doesn't say that. The bible doesn't say heaven is anything except The Sky for several whole books, and by the time it does it's mostly concerned with telling you how to get there and just assuming you want to. I have to assume the whole thing was made up by popes.

Has anyone read Job: A Comedy Of Justice by Heinlein? That's basically got my point: the dude spoiler ). Great book, also. This has been your Midnight Philosophy Radio for this evening. Conclusion: Christians are odd.
bliumchik: (nothing sus)
Your creations get away from you. I think that's one reason why artists often feel a bit Frankenstein-ish. You rarely end up with what you started.

For instance, today, probably inspired by the whacky imagery of [ profile] woodburner's automatic prose game (also because I was playing with candle wax. As you do.) I wrote a little poem. Then I thought, you know, that looks a little like song lyrics. Let's get out the guitar and see what fits. So I messed around a bit and voice-posted it. Then I realised the second stanza as actually a chorus and the last one should probably go at the end of the song as an outro, so I had to make up more bits to go in between. Okay, I figured, at least one more verse shouldn't be too hard, hmm what will work... oh hey. I can has bridge. How did that happen?

I still have no idea what goes in the second verse, but at least I... have a bridge now?
bliumchik: THIS IS NOT SPARTA. I AM LOST. (splode?)
Whoah, busy weekend. This always happens to me - I spend three weeks sitting at home playing minesweeper and then everything happens all at once. This post chronicles my adventures in bars, bus stops, eyeliner, global warming and making friends with total strangers from foreign countries.

Please don't wanna take me to that particular gay bar. )
bliumchik: (fight the system)
There doesn't need to be a conflict between science and religion. Religion is something people believe in and science is something people use. Notice whenever they clash it's because someone is trying to believe in science or, more often, use religion - and then there's Intelligent Design, which is the worst of both worlds.

This was your two am installment of "people are dumb. why." theatre.
bliumchik: (Default)
I'm exactly half way through my HSC exams now. This is, frankly, awesome. I'm looking forward to having time for non-school projects, things I want to do just because they're really interesting, and not because I'm being tested on them. I'm looking forward to occasionally sitting back and realising that I have literally nothing to do. I'm looking forward to my dad switching my internet back on upstairs where all my bookmarks are. I'm looking forward to getting started on being an adult, goddamn.

I'm also looking forward to my formal a hell of a lot. It's like the awesome cherry on my ridiculously-improved highschool years. I hit a social low somewhere in year six and things have basically been more-or-less steadily improving ever since, no matter that it sometimes felt like they weren't and never would. Getting my yearbook really brought that home - having people sign it without thinly-veiled contempt or pity. The formal marks the very end of this era of my life, and I can say with sincerity that it has all been worth it. And then move on to greater things.

Also, on a shallower note, I'm really looking forward to wearing my formal outfit. I can raise my hat at people! It has long white gloves, and a cravat, and a cane! I was going to go put down the deposit today as I've got to go to bondi anyway for my grandad's birthday, but my dad reminded me that it's kind of Sunday afternoon and they're probably closed. I'm still not sure what kind of hairstyle will go with the hat unless I do a Brendon urie and get the emo cut and straighten it. I've wanted to try out boyish hairstyles anyway, although from experimenting with my bangs I have a strong suspicion that my default boy-hair is that of superman, s-curl and all.

And I'm looking forward to the afterparty, because drinking vodka in an attic is pretty damn cool.

And I'm looking forward to my three-month holiday.

Starting uni.



bliumchik: (Default)
Captain Oblivious

October 2014

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