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THIS. Is to combat dehydration

I'm not intimidated really, I just couldn't remember what the mood icon looked like.

Hello. I went up north for a couple of days only to discover that a Tory thinktank are recommending that the north be abandoned to the wolves because it's a wasteland and that millions more people should come to live in the south. I would take it more seriously if the bloke who had written the report sounded less like the cartoon Toryboy. Really, there's not enough eyerolling in the world.



@) Finally cracked 40,000 words. Now if only 20,000 of them weren't irrelevant.

ß) I have had a weird week. Nice week of no work, but odd nevertheless. Coinciding with the Olympics, which means I got the happy opportunity to care deeply about a bunch of sports I usually wouldn't give two tosses about.

As I write Britain, or Team GB as the bloody BBC would have us call it, are at number three in the medals table, largely as a result of having the best cycling team in the world. That's not jingoistic hyperbole, it just is. And how fantastic was Becky Adlington with her unaffected manner, two gold medals and posh shoe addiction. Finally something worth being all rah rah rah about. Which is nice given that the BBC usually does well-mannered rah rah rah patriotic bullshit with absolutely nothing to get excited about.

So I have been infected by the Olympics. At least it's better than falling into the black hole of stupid that is Big Brother. (Three years of resistance and counting!)

¶) Hellboy II this week! Guillermo del Toro is my film BFF.

€) I went to see Wall-E yesterday, and after the bravura 20-minute opening section on the deserted Earth I *fell asleep like a big kid*. Hideously embarrassing. I have decided to blame the film and too much sugar from eating white mice.

%) The oddest oddness of the week started with a conversation with my friend M about children, in which he asked me about this circumstance, and said he didn't want this circumstance to happen. Which would be all right except he's brought it up *three times* with me now, so I am wondering what he means by that. I suspect that in three months when I look at this entry I will be thinking "What the hell am I on about?" Being discreet and circumspect is a bitch.

¢) Today there were spoilers on blogs, which made me go \o/. Or more accurately \o/ \o/ -o- \o/ [four spoilery things, see?]

Two of them, in particular, would be the most delightful thing on Earth. I'd forgotten what it was like actually giving a toss about spoilers, particularly ones so far distant that you would need deep space telemetry to work out whether they were accurate. Three of the spoilers are constructed of purest awesome and make me cheerful, so I choose to believe that they are accurate until such time as (a) they are proved false or (b) I can't be arsed with the whole thing any longer. Which might happen.

I always remember reading the blogs of people who were actually in this fandom during the time of great fuckery, and thinking "surely, the batchippers can't be that bad, they can't possibly be that loony" but no, they really, really are. You come upon their journals because they write good fiction, and their other entries seem sensible and then you get into the fandom stuff and you think, Good lord, are you even living in the same world as me, never mind watching the same telly programme? And why are you launching some sort of holy war over fictional characters?

I don't know why I am amazed. I watched X-Files fandom for five years.


‡) The other day I had a moment of poor impulse control and went off on a tinhat expedition in London. If you can guess the nature of my tinhattery, I will SEND YOU STUFF. Or make you a mix or summat. Icons. Something.

I can just hear my gran's voice in my head "You do *right* to call other people batshit, young lady"

She would've used the term batshit. She was offa Hessle Road, one of 13 children born to a man who deserted in the first world war. My great -great grandfather was a Cockney and moved up north, probably for dodgy reasons. It's only my mum that has delusions of clarsiness.


So something extremely odd happened to me on Friday.

Apparently I drove out to Barking and bought a SHEDLOAD of crack, which I smoked. I then soaked a hankerchief in poppers and tied it under my nose, before drinking an entire bottle of absinthe, chased down with some blotting paper LSD, which I had pasted onto the contents of a tube of Refreshers. Lovely.

Dodging several giant purple platypuses who were singing some of the more exciting parts of the musical Miss Saigon, I found myself in the post-industrial wasteland which is Gallion's Reach, with its constant fug of part-processed faecal matter and exhaust fumes (it's a delightful part of the world; in a more charming incarnation it was home to the largest gasworks in Europe). In a smackhead daze, I wandered into a large square building with lots of adverts on the front and discovered a large darkened room.

As I sat down next to Napoleon (a bugger for hogging the popcorn) and Amelia Earhart (so that's where she went!), suddenly, as if by magic, giant pictures appeared on a black screen.

Meryl Streep appeared on my screen and began declaiming European pop lyrics as though they were Ibsen, young men danced in *flippers* and Pierce Brosnan, Pierce Brosnan James Bond 007 Pierce Brosnan starting singing. And he sings like I do the pole vault. Which is to say, OH, GOD and NO.

And lo, I found myself watching what is possibly the worst utterly brilliant movie I have seen since Shining Through

The absinthe, crack, poppers and LSD is the only explanation for it, because surely no one could possibly have thought *any* of that was a good idea.

Mamma Mia is genius. Such a terrible film, such good fun.

Comments

( 31 comments — Leave a comment )
timesink
Aug. 17th, 2008 10:03 pm (UTC)
Which is to say, OH, GOD and NO.

To put it mildly. {g}

See, I should have thought of absinthe and crack before hand, then maybe I might not have come out of the movie with a headache. Or, well, at least it would have been a *good* headache, I guess.
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 17th, 2008 11:20 pm (UTC)
Oh it was wonderful. Insane and terrible, like a space warlord, but wonderful. I spent the whole night playing Abba records to myself.

Can you imagine what the money men are doing now that it's been packing 'em in? Oh, the delicious flow of crack which is to come!
violetisblue
Aug. 18th, 2008 12:41 am (UTC)
It was such a glorious, quivering, shameless slice of CHEESE ON CRACK that we and the entire audience got sucked in completely. No regrets.
timesink
Aug. 18th, 2008 01:45 am (UTC)
I spent the whole night playing Abba records to myself.

See, now I need to do that. I only have Abba covers, no actual Abba. This must be corrected.

Those British cyclists *are* impressive, by the way. The NBC commentators said that the British cycling federation had put like $20 million into the program or something, and you can really see it. Congrats!
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 18th, 2008 02:30 am (UTC)
They really are doing something right. This very interesting article explains what happened, which basically boils down to: it was amateur hour, with cyclists turning up to major events with one spare wheel and making their own way home, and a coach said "I can make you champions". It's really come about because of Lottery funding, so they don't have to have jobs and they don't have to share tracksuits any more.

It's the one thing they've got right for this Olympics. I think the idea is to try to replicate the sports science across more fields before London 2012.

There's also some talk about funding a British team in the Tour De France next year after Mark Cavendish's success this year. Which would be... interesting. Long as none of them get done for doping.

Still it's been good to watch, as an alternative to boggling at Michael Phelps, which we're all pretty much doing as a matter of course now.
sharinlilbit
Aug. 17th, 2008 10:04 pm (UTC)
And lo, I found myself watching what is possibly the worst utterly brilliant movie I have seen since Shining Through

I KNOW that angstville will find this every bit as funny as I do. We heart Shining Through, even if we do feel guilty about it. hee!
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 17th, 2008 11:22 pm (UTC)
I *love* Shining Through. I saw it at the cinema and I can still recollect sliding down in my seat and putting my hand over my eyes when I saw the bit with the zebra, which was clearly meant to be POIGNANT and ART, dammit. Oh, and evil Joely Richardson, and Michael Douglas getting shot on the way to Switzerland but then carrying on staggering...

Such a terrible movie. I love it.
violetisblue
Aug. 17th, 2008 10:15 pm (UTC)
So that "repatriate 'em all in the South!" report wasn't actually a big joke gone awry, then? I sincerely thought it was. *tries to imagine the reaction here if a government white paper advocated depopulating the industrial corridor and relocating its entire population in the Sun Belt, backs slowly away*

"I'd forgotten what it was like actually giving a toss about spoilers, particularly ones so far distant that you would need deep space telemetry to work out whether they were accurate. However three of said spoilers are constructed of purest awesome and make me cheerful, so I choose to believe that they are accurate until such time as (a) they are proved false or (b) I can't be arsed with the whole thing any longer. Which might happen."

I'm actually finding, and I did not plan this, that the worst possible thing that can happen to one's Nu Who fannishness is to start watching Old Who from the beginning--you start seeing everything that got done better decades ago and is being shamelessly ripped off now except with even more and more pernicious sexism and whatnot and start going, er, why am I supposed to care? Maybe I'll feel differently when a new season starts in earnest, but whatever.

"I always remember reading the blogs of people who were actually in this fandom during the time of great fuckery, and thinking 'surely, the batchippers can't be that bad, they can't possibly be that loony' but no, they really, really are."

Ayup. And they're just getting more so, weirdly enough, even as they got handed everything in the finale that they could possibly want for their goddess.

"Good lord, are you even living in the same world as me, never mind watching the same telly programme? And why are you launching some sort of holy war over fictional characters?"

No, they're not, and I suppose because Rose is such an identification figure for them that any insult to her imaginary self is an insult to them, personally? I don't know. I adore Romana but there are plenty of folks on my flist who have no use for her, I don't take it as a slap in the face.
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 17th, 2008 11:43 pm (UTC)
So that "repatriate 'em all in the South!" report wasn't actually a big joke gone awry, then? I sincerely thought it was. *tries to imagine the reaction here if a government white paper advocated depopulating the industrial corridor and relocating its entire population in the Sun Belt, backs slowly away*

No, that's the wonderful part, it was entirely serious when it said let 'em rot. Fantastic stuff because all those people who were all "Oh, hang on, might vote for the Tories this time" will read it and go "HELL NO". And much as I despise this Labour government, I will despise the Tory one with the fire of a thousand suns because every one of them is a selfish bad-word-for-a-front-bottom.

I'm actually finding, and I did not plan this, that the worst possible thing that can happen to one's Nu Who fannishness is to start watching Old Who from the beginning--you start seeing everything that got done better decades ago and is being shamelessly ripped off now except with even more and more pernicious sexism and whatnot and start going, er, why am I supposed to care? Maybe I'll feel differently when a new season starts in earnest, but whatever.

I suspect I don't take such a hard line on Team Cardiff as you do. I don't think you're wrong necessarily, just that I am more in thrall to the all-powerful handwave as a means of getting rid of stuff that pisses me off. I can rationalise it all away.

I think the difference, for me, between new Who and old Who is that I expect better of them now in terms of the sexism and racial politics and when I don't get that, when they go all self-congratulatory about being more liberal than mainstream TV or whatever when they are in fact retrogressive as compared to season seven, my head goes bang. However, as I said last week, Doctor Who is family to me until such time as I am pissed off beyond endurance.

And I, for one, welcome our sexist new overlord because I don't find what he writes is that bad. What he says, yes. What he writes, no. I can even handwave the conservatism-verging-on-sexism of Forest of the Dead because I have an explanation in my head that makes sense to me.

Also, I haven't really watched Old Who because of my own personal weirdness: to whit, I read all the novelisations when I was aged seven to 18 or so because I didn't have a VCR when I was growing up. So I had set photos and the novelisations -- the odd three or four of which could be accused of literature -- and when I actually watched some old Who, it didn't match up to what I had imagined in a way which produced total cognitive dissonance.

Maybe I should try it now that I am not 17 and don't have the burning need for everything I love to be taken utterly seriously. I don't know. I've always preferred written things to visual things in general.

Ayup. And they're just getting more so, weirdly enough, even as they got handed everything in the finale that they could possibly want for their goddess.

I *know*. WTF do they want? And why are so many thirty- and fortysomething women identifying with a 19-year-old blonde to the point of being enraged if someone else gets any screentime?

Okay, that last thing was just mean. But even when I was 19 (and sort of blonde) I didn't identify with the 19-year-old blonde. I identified with people who were older, bitter, sarcastic and slightly broken and whose options were running out. Much as I do now that I am bitter, sarcastic... etc etc.

Though I did adore Ace (and Sophie Aldred was once terrifically kind to me)

I was reading the LJ of someone who writes pretty well, and though her cake is not my beautiful cake, I can appreciate why she likes her cake and partake of the odd slice, so I meandered over to her personal journal and *holy shit*.

Crying for four days? Even though you got what you said you wanted? I've never cried for four days over a TV show. I've never cried for four minutes over a TV show. Watched the same episode every day for four days, yes, but not the other.
violetisblue
Aug. 18th, 2008 01:15 am (UTC)
"I suspect I don't take such a hard line on Team Cardiff as you do. I don't think you're wrong necessarily, just that I am more in thrall to the all-powerful handwave as a means of getting rid of stuff that pisses me off."

Well, I still watch, so I'm as inconsistent as anyone else. I'm just, you know, all the debates about whether Donna was "mindraped" and whether hand!Doctor is "the real Doctor" (apparently it's now hateful heresy, in the expected quarters, to think that a creature who's half-human in DNA, has one heart and will age and die like a human does is in any way at all different from the Doctor himself) and whether it was right to wipe out the Daleks for the 873rd futile time or not just, blah blah blah blah, I find myself tuning all of it out in favor of being all excited about whoever comes after Susan in the companion queue (Vicki? Steven?). The "cheap" children's show is doing it for me in a way all this CGI and OTT operatic angst just doesn't.

"I expect better of them now in terms of the sexism and racial politics and when I don't get that, when they go all self-congratulatory about being more liberal than mainstream TV or whatever when they are in fact retrogressive as compared to season seven, my head goes bang."

This, yes. When the First Doctor sends off Susan saying it's time for her to "do what women do" or whatever that line was by marrying David, I just roll my eyes and go, "Whatever, 1963," but when they roll out Ursula the Paving Slab I start shouting, "WTF IS YOUR PROBLEM, TEAM CARDIFF?!" This may in fact be the classic Whig fallacy in action, I know.

"WTF do they want? And why are so many thirty- and fortysomething women identifying with a 19-year-old blonde to the point of being enraged if someone else gets any screentime?"

Because she's everything they want to be and never will be--young, blonde, thin, lauded and adored without actually having to make the effort to deserve it, the love-object of an unfathomably wealthy and well-traveled aristo who will never age or die or lose his youthful vigor? That's only my own theory, mind, but still. As for what they want, apparently the goalposts on that have shifted yet again and they now (judging from entries on several of their journals) want everything from a whole set of tie-in books and Big Finish audios devoted to Rose and Handjob to, as one demanded, Rose and Handjob and their inevitable children being "the stars" of the Moffat era of the show, forget that stupid Doctor bloke. *crickets* I got nothing, you know?

"But even when I was 19 (and sort of blonde) I didn't identify with the 19-year-old blonde. I identified with people who were older, bitter, sarcastic and slightly broken and whose options were running out."

I think the last character I really strongly identified with was John Munch on Homicide. If they're sarcastic, too intelligent for the room and occasionally appalling about that fact, I'm there. Aimless drifting ingenues looking for a guy to impart meaning into their self-describedly nothing little lives, er, no.

"Crying for four days? Even though you got what you said you wanted?"

I guess we're back to the same question, aren't we--WTF do they want? They got the whole goddamned season revolving around Rose, they got a declaration of love (admittedly unheard, but still), they got the kissing with tongues, they got her and a version of him walking off forever into the sunset--but of course, given that even after all that she was still running after the dematerializing TARDIS she doesn't know WTF she wants either so maybe it fits. I do hear a lot of that wing of fandom now ranting about how they "hate the Doctor" because Ten is mean and awful and Handjob is, like, more in touch with his feelings and isn't it great how he wasn't so much of a "pussy" so as to hesitate to kill the Daleks and, whatever, I'll never understand it.
londonkds
Aug. 18th, 2008 06:41 am (UTC)
Tennant's such a fan that I'm certain he'll do Big Finish if it's still going when he leaves. The only question is which of the companion actors will be willing.
violetisblue
Aug. 19th, 2008 12:01 am (UTC)
He's already done, so that would hardly be a shock, and as for spinoff audios set in that world never say never--I don't really understand what the appeal of that would be, but de gustibus.
londonkds
Aug. 19th, 2008 08:19 am (UTC)
The big question will be which of the companion actors go for it. I rather hope that Billie doesn't but instead does umpteen seasons of Belle Du Jour because it would be fun to see the fans of the Incredibly Feminist Rose Arc start going on about how Billie is an evil whoring tart who spits on her fans to do soft pron.
violetisblue
Aug. 19th, 2008 01:01 pm (UTC)
I think some of them are already doing that, re the person I saw who's convinced Billie will return full time after her pregnancy because "she won't want her child to have a porn star for a mother." So it's either Team Cardiff until she turns thirty and the public loses interest for the rest of her life or Debbie Deep-Throats Devonshire? Good to know.
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 18th, 2008 09:24 pm (UTC)
I'm just, you know, all the debates about whether Donna was "mindraped" and whether hand!Doctor is "the real Doctor" (apparently it's now hateful heresy, in the expected quarters, to think that a creature who's half-human in DNA, has one heart and will age and die like a human does is in any way at all different from the Doctor himself) and whether it was right to wipe out the Daleks for the 873rd futile time or not just, blah blah blah blah, I find myself tuning all of it out

Well, I can completely understand that. I think the trouble with the continuity of this era is that it breeds this sort of tedious stuff. I do love continuity when it's like getting a sweetie for paying attention, not so much when we're all arguing about handy, because I so don't care. Maybe I should give old school a go. I know all the basics -- I used to be able to recite the companions in order.

(Honestly, how did I ever get through my early teens without getting the shit kicked out of me? Oh, I know, by being large and violent.)

Because she's everything they want to be and never will be--young, blonde, thin, lauded and adored without actually having to make the effort to deserve it, the love-object of an unfathomably wealthy and well-traveled aristo who will never age or die or lose his youthful vigor?

Oh. My. God. Can I please unthink that? Could you take it back?

As for the stuff about Ten and Rose's children being the stars of the Moffat era, that's just funny. And a little tragic but mostly funny. Fandom is fucking funny, as the wise upsy_daisy once said.

I think the last character I really strongly identified with was John Munch on Homicide. If they're sarcastic, too intelligent for the room and occasionally appalling about that fact, I'm there.

Ah, I can sort of see that. The last character I think I felt that strongly about was Ruth from Spooks. She was really clever, sarcastic, made of steel on the quiet, a good friend, a total chickenshit about doing anything in her personal life -- and she stole electronic stuff from work because it was *interesting* and she wanted to play with it.

I don't steal stuff from work.

Well, pens. The odd photocopier down the back of my pants.

Edited at 2008-08-18 09:25 pm (UTC)
violetisblue
Aug. 19th, 2008 05:26 am (UTC)
"I think the trouble with the continuity of this era is that it breeds this sort of tedious stuff. I do love continuity when it's like getting a sweetie for paying attention, not so much when we're all arguing about handy, because I so don't care."

It is so very tedious, isn't it? At this point if I never hear the words "character arc" again it really will be too soon.

"Maybe I should give old school a go."

I'm finding it quite fun because they actually tried with the plots (well, at least thus far they seem to be), nobody's screeching "TAKE ME BAAAAAAAACK!" while sobbing and pounding a universe-dividing wall and I can enjoy it as a children's show without anyone getting pissed off that I called it a children's show. Also, you know, no paving slabs. Rather a nice change.

"Oh. My. God. Can I please unthink that? Could you take it back?"

You know I'm right. The show knows I'm right too, re "You CAN'T regenerate because you might look older fatter less fuckable, you CAAAAN'T!"

"As for the stuff about Ten and Rose's children being the stars of the Moffat era, that's just funny. And a little tragic but mostly funny."

I read the entry twice to make sure they weren't joking. Of course, they weren't.

"Ah, I can sort of see that."

Everyone who knows me says they can see that. I wonder if it means something.
minnow1212
Aug. 17th, 2008 11:47 pm (UTC)
>And he sings like I do the pole vault. Which is to say, OH, GOD and NO. <

Snort. Yes. He committed to the bad singing, so...good for him. But. Really. OH, GOD, NO.
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 18th, 2008 12:50 am (UTC)
He did. He shot for the stars and he went down in flames by God, but you've got to admire the effort
leiliaxf
Aug. 18th, 2008 01:18 am (UTC)
I saw the brilliant bad crack yesterday.

Oh. My.

sparkly and shiny and Pierce, darling? Love you. Love you with your shirt off and soaking wet.

However.

Sing one note ever again--and you're off the laminated list.

srsly. OW.

I can only imagine how much fun they must've had filming it tho. And Christine Baranski? Totally needs to be my new bestest friend. 'Coz, damn.
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 18th, 2008 08:58 pm (UTC)
I know. Christine Baranski has long been my platonic girlcrush.
(Deleted comment)
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 18th, 2008 09:00 pm (UTC)
Woo, 40,000 words! That's awesome.

Half of them shit but still, wooot! *g*

I wouldn't want to put anyone off Mamma Mia, it was ace.
raincitygirl
Aug. 18th, 2008 05:24 am (UTC)
Have you read legionseagle's take on the report? She's a Mancunian and officially Not. Happy.
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 18th, 2008 09:03 pm (UTC)
I did read it. I wasn't quite that vehement because I think I rolled my eyes at an earlier stage but I kind of agree with her.

cofax7
Aug. 18th, 2008 02:57 pm (UTC)
40,000 words! YAY

I may go see Mamma Mia this week. Sounds perfect for vacation...
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 18th, 2008 09:11 pm (UTC)
Mamma Mia is fantastic fun but you do need to go in with the full knowledge that it is crap and on crack. Do you love Abba? If you do, you're golden.

40,000 words! YAY

Alas, not all relevant. I am having trouble with velocity. Do you think that getting into the story fast is essential when it comes to fanfiction? Because I am thinking, yes, probably.
cofax7
Aug. 19th, 2008 01:34 am (UTC)
I am having trouble with velocity. Do you think that getting into the story fast is essential when it comes to fanfiction?

I don't think that fic varies widely from original fiction in this, actually. Hooking the reader matters, yes. But it needn't be plot necessarily, and the longer the story the more flexibility one has, I think. If you can convince the reader that you know what you're doing right off, then it doesn't matter so much if it's an exciting start. You just need to hook them, and that can be by vivid description, explosions, or great characterization.
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 19th, 2008 02:03 am (UTC)
Well, that's a bloody relief. I was listening to Julian Barnes talk about a Penelope Fitzgerald novel the other day and how it started with someone watching laundry being done and that conveyed everything about the social situation and his character and I thought "Really? REALLY?" but I suppose that can work if the reader is patient and the language is good.

I am currently unreasonably pleased that the story starts and ends with the same two words. I suspect there's a spot of darling-murdering in my future.

Have a lovely holiday, by the way. Mine's just finished and I am all "Lord, smite me now!"
se_parsons
Aug. 18th, 2008 04:10 pm (UTC)
How much will the bad singing put off my opera-trained mom. THAT is the zillion dollar question. I really want to see it and I think it might be amusing for her, too. but she is SUCH a singing snob.

And the WHO batshittery is.... I got nothing.

The NORTH should seceed from the SOUTH and fight a war and crush them with their industrial prowess. ;-)

I mean, it worked for us, after all.
infinitemonkeys
Aug. 18th, 2008 09:13 pm (UTC)
The bad singing is BAD singing so yes, she might be put off. OTOH, if she knows ahead that it is bad singing and so atrocious that it is not even pretending to be good singing, maybe that could work. Because the movie made me smile so much.

ETA: oh please go watch the Mark Kermode review of it. It is gold, particularly when he's all gobsmacked and just saying "Stellen Skarsgard, STELLEN SKARSGARD!" in a kind of bewildered way. It is love.

The NORTH should seceed from the SOUTH and fight a war and crush them with their industrial prowess. ;-)


Damn! If only we weren't a century late!

Edited at 2008-08-18 09:27 pm (UTC)
barkley
Aug. 19th, 2008 02:50 am (UTC)
I too fell asleep in the middle of Wall-E, but I woke up shortly thereafter and engaged again to go forth and blubber at the end.

And now I am curious about your tin hattery, and I can't imagine you hanging out at a stage door waiting for the Doctor, but I can't imagine any other kind of tin hattery.
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