joiedecombat: (Aya)
Sarah Rees Brennan, on the subject of writing damaged heroes.

Highlights:
JANE EYRE: And then you decided to disguise yourself as a gypsy woman in order to tell me about our eternal love. 18753th count of lying to me. First count of cross-dressing.
ROCHESTER: And your point is...?
JANE EYRE: Kiss me, you mad bonnet-wearing fool!
READER: ...Bzuh?

And also:
But an important part of That Guy is that That Guy Is Not Right. My hero Nick doesn’t kill puppies or cross-dress, but he’s been raised in a atmosphere of constant violence. He learned to use knives when he was seven, he ditches bodies in the river and then drives home annoyed about being late for dinner. Finding true love isn’t going to fix him. Finding a voucher for five years of free therapy probably isn’t going to fix him. I wanted to show all that, and yet not write a book which made readers go ‘Oh my God, the main character... if only one could reach into the pages of a book and BEAT THE HERO TO DEATH WITH A SPATULA.’
joiedecombat: (read the manual)
Stumbled across this comment on TVTropes today:

It's interesting the philosophical differences in how people approach science fiction. A lot can be said about the fundamental divide between people who look at a zap-gun and say "Real lasers don't work like that, so this story is Wrong" vs. people who look at a zap-gun and say "Real lasers don't work like that, so obviously zap-guns aren't lasers, but something else".

Hm.
joiedecombat: (ang ang ang)
Meme stolen wholesale from [livejournal.com profile] infinitepryde: go here and refresh until you've found at least five quotes which resonate with you somehow (ten if you're feeling ambitious). Post them to your LJ.

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.
Robert Frost (1874 - 1963)

One reason I don't drink is that I want to know when I am having a good time.
Nancy Astor (1879 - 1964)

Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn't.
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)

We call them dumb animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us how they feel, but they do not suffer less because they have no words.
Anna Sewell (1820 - 1878), Black Beauty, 1877

It is far more impressive when others discover your good qualities without your help.
Judith Martin, (Miss Manners)

The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink.
George Orwell (1903 - 1950), "Politics and the English Language", 1946
joiedecombat: (:C)
Finally finished watching Blood+. It was not nearly as bad as I feared. I will admit, however, that a large part of the entertainment value of the series had by this point become watching people on the TVWoP forum explain what was going on to those who were having trouble following:

snipped for Other People's Words )

Other things that are amusing me lately: Saiunkoku Monogatari, which I am too out of it to properly explain at the moment, but it's kind of like Ouran High School Host Club in feudal fantasy China with politics and open bisexuality. Srsly.

Also the Legion Abstract, which I recommend to the LSH fans on my flist. Reviews and synopses of all current ongoing Legion storylines, including threeboot, the stuff going on in Action Comics, the cartoon, and the comic of the cartoon, but more interesting than these are the writeups on signature moments of each Legionnaire and other random Legion-related stuff. I live in hope that he will eventually get around to a writeup on Magno, because thus far it's taken characters on the level of Atmos, Visi-Lad, and Calamity King to reduce him to "yeah, he was here, he didn't really do anything, we don't care, moving on," and any kind of appreciation for Magno as a character makes me happy.

Plus, he's funny:

snipped again )

Not to mention that he actually went to the trouble of explaining the entirety of Mon-El's continuity, which, dear God. Anyway, Legion fans, check it out. Makes for some interesting reading.
joiedecombat: (?)
Weather forecast for tonight: dark. Continued dark overnight, with widely scattered light by morning.
George Carlin

In which I look for inspiration in other people's words. )
joiedecombat: (?)
They turned around, and they saw, there by the great rock--
wings, it seemed like hundreds of wings, spreading, folding, stretching--
and eyes
how many eyes can a drive of dragons have?
and small jets of flame


Yes. Charles Wallace's drive of dragons was a single creature, although Meg was not at all surprised that Charles Wallace had confused this fierce, wild being with dragons. She had the feeling that she never saw all of it at once, and which of all the eyes could she meet? merry eyes, wise eyes, ferocious eyes, kitten eyes, dragon eyes, opening and closing, looking at her, looking at Charles Wallace and Calvin and the strange tall man. And wings, wings in constant motion, covering and uncovering the eyes. When the wings were spread out, they had a span of at least ten feet, and when they were all folded in, the creature resembled a misty, feathery sphere. Little spurts of flame and smoke spouted up between the wings; it could certainly start a grass fire if it weren't careful. Meg did not wonder that Charles Wallace had not approached it.


The Teacher said, "His name is Proginoskes."
Charles Wallace said, "He?"
"Yes."
"He's not dragons?"
"He is a cherubim."
"What!?"
"A cherubim."
Flame spurted skywards in indignation at the doubt in the atmosphere. Great wings raised and spread and the children were looked at by a great many eyes. When the wild thing spoke, it was not in vocal words, but directly into their minds."
"I suppose you think I ought to be a golden-haired baby-face with no body and two useless little wings?"
Charles Wallace stared at the great creature. "It might be simpler if you were."
Meg pulled her poncho closer about her, for protection in case the cherubim spouted fire in her direction.
"It is a constant amazement to me," the cherubim thought at them, "that so many earthling artists paint cherubim to resemble baby pigs."
Calvin made a sound which, if he had been less astonished, would have been a laugh. "But cherubim is plural."
The fire-spouting beast returned, "I am practically plural. The little boy thought I was a drive of dragons, didn't he? I am certainly not a cherub. I am a singular cherubim."


Proginoskes waved several wings slowly back and forth in thought, which would have felt very pleasant on a hot day, but which, on a cold morning, made Meg turn up the collar of her jacket. The cherubim did not notice; he continued waving and thinking. Then she could feel his words moving slowly, tentatively, within her mind. "If you've been assigned to me, I suppose you must be some kind of a Namer, too, even if a primitive one."
"A what?"
"A Namer. For instance, the last time I was with a Teacher - or at school, as you call it - my assignment was to memorize the names of the stars."
"Which stars?"
"All of them."
"You mean all the stars, in all the galaxies?"
"Yes. If he calls for one of them, someone has to know which one he means. Anyhow, they like it; there aren't many who know them all by name, and if your name isn't known, then it's a very lonely feeling."
joiedecombat: (*sparkle*)
Eve says, "See, what happened is that the year Kitty was born, stupid was on special. And it never really goes bad - I mean, how can it? So the universe stocked up. And now whenever it runs out of ideas for dinner, it opens up the pantry and goes, 'Oh look! Stupid - Stupid goes with everything. I'll have this.'"

It's funny because it's true.

wah i do not want to drive to Starkville tonight. Should not have waited so late.
joiedecombat: (Default)
"Hi, I'm Tamashii no Seishi, a deadly ninja from an alternate dimension, but really I'm nice. I'm looking to make an appointment for an interview, if you've got the time." ... "Well, us ninjae, we can do things other than fight, y'know. My roommate is Sherlock Holmes and he--" ... "Of course not! I'm as sane as the day is long! Look, I just want an interview, okay? Holmes-sama needs it for this psychological profile he's--" ... "You're so mean. I'm gonna cry. I--" ... "A payphone." ... "Don't, I--" ... "Anata wa BAKA desu ka?! I'll ninj them, I will!!" ... *sirens approaching* "Screw you too! And the horse you rode in on! *click*" ... "IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO MAKE A CALL, PLEASE HANG UP AND TRY AGAIN. IF YOU NEED HELP, HANG UP, AND THEN DIAL THE OPERATOR. *obnoxious repeated sound*
joiedecombat: (Default)
Constantine steals Seishi's underwear.
Seishi facepalms.
Constantine says "It's got little cartoon Holmeses on it."
Holmes imagines Seishi in Sherlock Holmes Underoos declaring that sometimes a pipe is just a pipe. But that is just about as PG as the snackbar can stand.
Seishi falls over. DEAD.
You say "I wonder if we can get Pete to draw that."
joiedecombat: (Squall)
Kitty Pryde pages: Giant purple government-sponsored robots coming to beat the crap out of us.
You paged Kitty Pryde with 'Oh dear. :)'.
Long distance to Kitty Pryde: Squall's brain attempts to read that as 'giant purple government-sponsored rabbits.' Ahem.
From afar, Kitty Pryde LAUGHS
You paged Kitty Pryde with 'I swear. I went 'wuh?' and blinked and looked again, and then went 'OH.''.
From afar, Kitty Pryde /dies/.
You paged Kitty Pryde with 'Giant purple government-sponsored rabbits!'.
Kitty Pryde pages: Dude, if giant purple government-sponsored rabbits show up?
Kitty Pryde pages: Kitty, 'Okay, SOMEONE can't read.'
Long distance to Kitty Pryde: Squall hees.
From afar, Kitty Pryde | Pete Wisdom | * HOP * *crash* * HOP * *thud* * HOP * *shatter*
Long distance to Kitty Pryde: Squall dies.
From afar, to (Squall, Pete): Kitty Pryde | Kitty, looking at the hop-crash-hop-thud-hop-shatter blankly. "Not even Crosstime was this weird."
From afar, to (Kitty Pryde, Squall): Pete laughs!
From afar, to (Pete, Squall): Kitty Pryde puts this here instead. I can just see it -- the plot going on, right, with all the spies having overlapping spooky evil black ops cloak and dagger dreams. In the background, Kitty sprints by. They all look and go, 'Huh.' Ten seconds later, an army of Omegas follows her. Squall, '...' Kit, '...well, then.' Clive, 'I say!' Remy flees, being sane. Pete, 'Right, whose idea was it to let a girl play?'

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