Okay, here we go. I'm going to do my Star Wars rant, and there's nothing any of you can do to stop me! ::insert maniacal laughter::
I don't remember how old I was when I saw Star Wars, which means I was about four or five, because that's where my memories begin. I do remember playing with Star Wars toys. My dad is a huge fan of space opera shows like Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, and Buck Rogers, so it was certain that he'd like the Star Wars saga. And since it was the perfect movie for kids, he fulfilled his own desires for the toys by buying them for my brother and I. For years, I can remember creeping down the stairs on Christmas mornings to find beautiful Star Wars dioramas under the tree. (It wasn't until after Jedi that I ever saw a Star Wars toy in its original packaging outside of a store.) Mom would grouse at us about all the time spent putting the ships and whatnot together, but with the eyes of an adult, I just know that my Dad had a blast.
I grew up playing Star Wars. My best friend Jeff was Luke (because he had blond hair), my brother was usually Han Solo (because he had dark hair) and I was Leia (because I was a girl). That was the core of the show, right there. My dad occasionally joined in as the terrible and frightening Darth Tickle, who would torture his prisoners mercilessly. Our bicycles were our fighter ships, and the bed of Dad's pickup truck was, alternately, the Millennium Falcon or the Death Star. (Dad's truck had a ladder rack, which we climbed on like monkeys. I am astonished that they let us get away with that, actually, and even more astonished that we never had an injury more serious than a few bruises or scrapes.) Some of the best afternoons of my life were prefaced by my Dad looking out the front window and telling me, "Here comes Luke Skycrawler on his X-wing two-wheeler!" We didn't stick to the movie-defined plot - that would have been boring. I could tell you some of the adventures we had (like the time all three of us were killed by the invisible stormtroopers in my bedroom) but it would be pretty pointless. If you had a childhood like mine, then you had most of those same adventures. If you didn't, well... I'm sorry.
I didn't much care for Empire, and it's still my least favorite of the three movies. It's dark, and grim, and ends on an uncertain note. The reason I like the Star Wars movies is because they represent hope, and there's precious little of it in Empire. I stopped collecting the toys shortly after Jedi. I'm pretty sure I had an Ewok or two (I'll confess right here and now, I thought the Ewoks were cute as hell, and I loved them!) but it was my brother and not me who got the elaborate Ewok Village, and it didn't really bother me. We managed to tape Star Wars off some cable channel once, and that tape (a Beta! Anyone who remembers the Beta - vs - VHS war, raise your hands!) was watched endlessly through my high school years.
When I got to college, I fell into a group of friends who had many of the same loves. The Star Wars saga was equally precious and culturally defining for them as it was for me. What fun!
Now, finally, years and years and years later, they're starting up again. And I've been hearing crap. A lot of it. People are worried that they're not going to like this movie, and that it won't live up to the saga. Okay, let's take a long deep breath and think about this for a while. The Star Wars saga was pure magic when we were kids, and that's why we love it. Just once, put it in your VCR and watch it and try very hard to forget that you were once a kid who held your breath in fear whenever you heard the rasping of Darth Vader's respirator. Try to watch it as if you were seeing it for the first time.
It's crap.
The acting is pretty awful, the dialog is absurd, and the plot holes are so huge you could ride a Bantha through them. What the hell is this garbage I've been seeing lately about Luke being Campbell's archetypal hero? Who the fuck is Campbell? And I've heard from at least four different people that the Star Wars trilogy embodies some impressive Greek mythology. Excuse me??? Will someone please tell me what myth they think is being acted out here so I can laugh in their faces?
Sure, Lucas pulled from mythologies! He's doing the same thing with Phantom Menace - I heard a story that a lot of research was done on devils and demons in a lot of different cultures in an effort to make Darth Maul as hideously evil-looking as possible. But Star Wars was just a story. It wasn't an attempt at a larger or deeper message! Those of us who loved it, loved it because it was so wonderfully black-and-white. The good guys were good. The bad guys were bad. No one was grey. No one. Characters changed sides, and some changed frequently - but they were always on one side or the other. No middle ground or moral ambiguity.
You know what I think about all of this archetypal hero mythology mumbo-jumbo? I think some people adored the movies, but knew deep down that their love was elemental. Kid stuff. And they wanted an excuse to keep watching when they grew up, so they made up this bullshit that makes them seem deeper than they really are. And other people decided that having an intellectual reason to like something was even better than just liking it because it brought back great childhood memories and was fun, so they jumped on the bandwagon. My opinion of these analyses can be summed up in one word: pretentious.
As for the reviewers and critics? Well, their job is to judge each movie on its own merits, and I won't begrudge them the probability that this movie won't stand on its own. But no one is going to see this movie who doesn't already know the ultimate outcome. It doesn't have to stand on its own merits. Part of the beauty of this movie will be that we know that this adorable child is going to grow up to be a terribly evil man. That knowledge is going to color every action, every word, every gesture that the child makes. We're going to be waiting, trying to find the moment when it becomes inevitable that Anakin will turn to the Dark Side. Maybe that moment isn't in this movie. It may well be in the second or third movies, that haven't been made yet. But we'll be waiting, and watching. So the reviewers don't like the movie. Who cares? They hate all science adventure movies. Forget about them!
So tomorrow afternoon, Matt and I are going to go to our friend Greg's house, and we'll watch marathon sessions of the Star Wars saga, and then we'll be all keyed up and excited when we walk the few blocks to the theater. The group of us will be chattering incessantly, excited and almost nervous as we sit in the theater waiting for the lights to dim. We'll cheer loudly when it starts, and then we'll lose ourselves. We'll turn over control to our inner children, who know that in a really good movie, the good guys always win, but that they may not do it in the way you expected them to, and we'll re-live bits of our childhoods. "Here comes Luke Skycrawler on his X-wing two-wheeler!"
Thursday, May 20, 1999
Wednesday, May 19, 1999
As we were driving to work this morning, Matt tugged on my shirt sleeve, and when I looked at him, he glanced quickly at his watch and said, "Happy One-year, One-month, and One-day Anniversary!" Yeah, we're disgusting like that all the time.
I've got a weird knot-like sensation in the middle of my back this morning. It feels like a vertebra is about to pop, but it won't. I think it comes from sitting in those awful chairs at the church where my Weight Watchers meeting is held.
But Deby (the WW leader) told us that this particular meeting has gotten so large that they're going to split it into two meetings - one will be half an hour earlier than the current meeting, and the other will be an hour later. I'll be going to the earlier meeting, because it's right after work, which is pretty convenient.
This morning when the alarm went off, the radio was playing "Big Old Jet Air-a-Line-A" which is a song I tolerate, but don't especially like, and I thought to myself, "Boy, is that weird. I was just dreaming about that song!" And then I cracked one eye open, because Matt wasn't turning it off. And then I realized that it was my alarm (we need two) and that I'd probably been dreaming about that song because it had been playing when Matt's alarm had gone off three minutes earlier.
I don't know why, but I was thinking about guns while I was in the shower this morning. I know people who run the gamut from card-carrying members of the NRA to those who not only would never touch a gun themselves but think they ought to be banned altogether. I've never really formed a solid opinion on the subject, but it lies somewhere in the middle.
But that's not what I was thinking about. What I was thinking about was this: For every person there comes a time when you actually understand that people have been killed with a firearm. Sometimes on accident, sometimes on purpose, but those people are dead because they were shot. As soon as you know what a gun is, you know that its purpose is death, but it's a sort of intellectual knowledge. It doesn't seep deep into your brain until later. And what I was wondering was, how do you explain to a child who has just encountered this deeper level of knowledge why, when guns are so dangerous, the government continues to allow us to have them.
But I couldn't think of a good answer.
It's not that I've decided I'm anti-firearms. I don't object to people having them. But I couldn't figure out how to explain it to a child without getting too complicated. It's just one of those things that you have to be a grown-up to understand, I guess.
Two days until I get to see the new Star Wars movie! Wheee!!!! Some of my friends have already seen it - shows began at 12:01AM last night (this morning?) and will be running steadily through the weekend, at least. People who have seen the movie are under strict orders not to say anything about it to me. As I told Karen when she said she had tickets: I don't want to know anything about the movie. I don't want to know whether you liked it, or how long it was, or what the previews were. Nothing. Nada. Zip.
But then I spent a good hour yesterday poking around the Star Wars web site reading character descriptions. I'm so bad.
I've got a weird knot-like sensation in the middle of my back this morning. It feels like a vertebra is about to pop, but it won't. I think it comes from sitting in those awful chairs at the church where my Weight Watchers meeting is held.
But Deby (the WW leader) told us that this particular meeting has gotten so large that they're going to split it into two meetings - one will be half an hour earlier than the current meeting, and the other will be an hour later. I'll be going to the earlier meeting, because it's right after work, which is pretty convenient.
This morning when the alarm went off, the radio was playing "Big Old Jet Air-a-Line-A" which is a song I tolerate, but don't especially like, and I thought to myself, "Boy, is that weird. I was just dreaming about that song!" And then I cracked one eye open, because Matt wasn't turning it off. And then I realized that it was my alarm (we need two) and that I'd probably been dreaming about that song because it had been playing when Matt's alarm had gone off three minutes earlier.
I don't know why, but I was thinking about guns while I was in the shower this morning. I know people who run the gamut from card-carrying members of the NRA to those who not only would never touch a gun themselves but think they ought to be banned altogether. I've never really formed a solid opinion on the subject, but it lies somewhere in the middle.
But that's not what I was thinking about. What I was thinking about was this: For every person there comes a time when you actually understand that people have been killed with a firearm. Sometimes on accident, sometimes on purpose, but those people are dead because they were shot. As soon as you know what a gun is, you know that its purpose is death, but it's a sort of intellectual knowledge. It doesn't seep deep into your brain until later. And what I was wondering was, how do you explain to a child who has just encountered this deeper level of knowledge why, when guns are so dangerous, the government continues to allow us to have them.
But I couldn't think of a good answer.
It's not that I've decided I'm anti-firearms. I don't object to people having them. But I couldn't figure out how to explain it to a child without getting too complicated. It's just one of those things that you have to be a grown-up to understand, I guess.
Two days until I get to see the new Star Wars movie! Wheee!!!! Some of my friends have already seen it - shows began at 12:01AM last night (this morning?) and will be running steadily through the weekend, at least. People who have seen the movie are under strict orders not to say anything about it to me. As I told Karen when she said she had tickets: I don't want to know anything about the movie. I don't want to know whether you liked it, or how long it was, or what the previews were. Nothing. Nada. Zip.
But then I spent a good hour yesterday poking around the Star Wars web site reading character descriptions. I'm so bad.
Tuesday, May 18, 1999
An update: At lunch yesterday, Jeremy told me that he had heard of the plan by NASA to send solar energy to the earth for use as electricity, and it did, in fact, involve microwaves. So I have to give the awful book that much credit, I suppose. But then we picked it apart even further, so I'm still not inclined to fish it out of the trashcan.
I got my invitation to my high school reunion a few days ago. There are three events: A happy hour on Friday, a cocktail party on Saturday (the main event) and a picnic on Sunday. If by some miracle our house is finished on time, we'll be moving that weekend. I've been looking forward to this reunion for years, but the move is going to put a crimp in our style. (How together can you look after spending a day moving heavy objects?) And it will cost $70 per person if we preregister by the end of June. Not counting what it will cost to locate a cocktail dress. (I had been thinking of wearing my bridesmaid's dress left over from Jen's wedding, but I think it's too long and full to be a cocktail dress, and I'm not a good enough seamstress to alter it for anything but stage use.) Oh, well. By the end of June, we'll have decided whether to move our closing date for the house, at least.
I've got new sheets on the bed at home. Actually, they're not that new - they were given to us as a wedding present, so they're a little more than a year old. But we just took them out of the package this weekend. (Every time we've washed the sheets for a year, we've just put the same set back on the bed. I don't know why.) I love these sheets! They actually fit the bed, and they're very very soft and smooth. I'm tempted to run out and buy another set right away, even though they're sortof expensive, because they feel so nice. But I suppose I'd better wait until they've been used for a while, and washed once or twice, to make sure they're not going to form pills. But right now, they're fantastic!
Not much to talk about today, I guess. We're counting down to Friday for the Star Wars party, and that seems to be pretty much dominating my brain. Maybe tomorrow I'll do my rant for you. Today, I'm just tired.
I got my invitation to my high school reunion a few days ago. There are three events: A happy hour on Friday, a cocktail party on Saturday (the main event) and a picnic on Sunday. If by some miracle our house is finished on time, we'll be moving that weekend. I've been looking forward to this reunion for years, but the move is going to put a crimp in our style. (How together can you look after spending a day moving heavy objects?) And it will cost $70 per person if we preregister by the end of June. Not counting what it will cost to locate a cocktail dress. (I had been thinking of wearing my bridesmaid's dress left over from Jen's wedding, but I think it's too long and full to be a cocktail dress, and I'm not a good enough seamstress to alter it for anything but stage use.) Oh, well. By the end of June, we'll have decided whether to move our closing date for the house, at least.
I've got new sheets on the bed at home. Actually, they're not that new - they were given to us as a wedding present, so they're a little more than a year old. But we just took them out of the package this weekend. (Every time we've washed the sheets for a year, we've just put the same set back on the bed. I don't know why.) I love these sheets! They actually fit the bed, and they're very very soft and smooth. I'm tempted to run out and buy another set right away, even though they're sortof expensive, because they feel so nice. But I suppose I'd better wait until they've been used for a while, and washed once or twice, to make sure they're not going to form pills. But right now, they're fantastic!
Not much to talk about today, I guess. We're counting down to Friday for the Star Wars party, and that seems to be pretty much dominating my brain. Maybe tomorrow I'll do my rant for you. Today, I'm just tired.
Monday, May 17, 1999
Have you ever picked up a book that looked sortof interesting and read the first couple of chapters, and been so completely disgusted that you not only didn't want to finish the book, you'd rather throw it away than turn it in to a used bookstore and inflict that awfulness on someone else?
Until yesterday, I hadn't. There are plenty of books that I didn't like. Plenty of books that I never finished because they were boring or I couldn't get the hang of the author's writing style. But yesterday I picked up a book that I had bought from the used book store a few weeks ago. I won't give you a link to it at Amazon, but I'll tell you the title and author, so you won't accidentally pay for it. The book was Sunstroke, by David Kagan.
It was the worst piece of reactionary ignorance I've ever seen.
Science fiction lends itself to reactionary writing. Scientific developments provide fantastic fodder for authors' imaginations. The fuel, apparently, for this piece of shit, was a proposal from NASA to the government that they study the possibility of using satellites in high geosyncrynous orbit as solar cells. The idea was to transmit the solar energy thus collected to the ground to be converted into electricity.
David Kagan didn't like this idea. Not one bit. I only read the first two chapters of his book, understand, but it was obvious right from the dedication page ("This is a work of fiction... But in a few years, it could be fact.") that he not only didn't like NASA's proposal, but that he was downright terrified of it.
Unfortunately, he appears not to have ever so much as looked at a computer program, much less the sort of careful programming used for satellites. He also seems to know nothing whatsoever of the procedures used by a bureaucracy-controlled science. In David Kagan's story, the satellite collected solar energy, converted it into microwaves, and sent the microwaves to a power-processing plant, which converted the microwaves into electricity. Now, I don't know how NASA's proposed study planned to move the collected solar energy to the ground, and I suppose it might have actually used microwaves, but it seems pretty unlikely. But, since I never saw the proposal (which is six years past, by the way) I'll concede the possibility.
In the book, some object damaged the satellite. I never read far enough to know the origin of the damaging object, but given the description of it as a radar-invisible, fiery sphere, I suspect it was fired maliciously at the satellite. By the Russians, no doubt. This collision 1) knocked the satellite out of its orbit, and 2) confused its programming. The defunct satellite suddenly increases its energy collection and the subsequent strength of its microwave beam. The size of the beam changes as well. Half a mile wide, at the base. As the satellite drifts, this super-strong microwave beam travels slowly across the world, frying all plant and animal life in its path. The control base on the ground cannot get a signal through to the satellite to shut it off. This is where I closed the book, and after several moments of contemplation, tossed it in the trashcan.
I laugh at your stupidity, David Kagan. NASA does not create satellites that do not have redundant programming. A satellite in any way capable of generating a dangerous beam would almost certainly cease operations immediately upon receiving any damage. If I were designing a satellite, it would cease operations if it didn't receive the correct signal from the ground every so often - and I'm sure that NASA's designers have thought of better fail-safes than that. Programming, by the way, does not get confused like that. It stops altogether, or it gets stuck on a certain loop, but it doesn't re-write itself! Oh, yeah, and no new electrical system (no new any kind of system, actually) is implemented without backup systems remaining in place! In the book, as soon as the satellite is damaged and the beam knocked off target, the entire city loses power. It might have blinked, but the old, redundant power station would have kicked in within seconds.
Oh, yeah, and I read the last couple of pages, and it looks like it took them weeks to disable the satellite. Um... Given the damage being done, it would only have taken the military a matter of hours to launch a couple of missiles at the damn thing and destroyed it completely to shut it down. (I don't know if this was proposed and rejected for some reason later in the story. The first two chapters only covers about ten minutes.)
BZZZZZZT! Thank you for playing! Don't quit your day job, Mr. Kagan!
So, after careful consideration, I decided that the world would be a better place for one less copy of this book, and I threw it away. I don't even want to turn it in to the used bookstore for credit. It was just bad. Stay away. Stay far away.
I'm usually willing to ignore minor holes in scientific logic, whether they were mistakes on the part of the author, or a deliberate bend in the rules of the universe. I'm usually willing to suspend disbelief in order to enjoy a well-written book with characters I can actually care about. But this thing was so badly researched, badly considered, and completely paranoid and reactionary that I had no sympathy for the characters and no reason to pretend that I believed the train of improbably events.
Okay, I feel better now that I've gotten that out of my system.
Until yesterday, I hadn't. There are plenty of books that I didn't like. Plenty of books that I never finished because they were boring or I couldn't get the hang of the author's writing style. But yesterday I picked up a book that I had bought from the used book store a few weeks ago. I won't give you a link to it at Amazon, but I'll tell you the title and author, so you won't accidentally pay for it. The book was Sunstroke, by David Kagan.
It was the worst piece of reactionary ignorance I've ever seen.
Science fiction lends itself to reactionary writing. Scientific developments provide fantastic fodder for authors' imaginations. The fuel, apparently, for this piece of shit, was a proposal from NASA to the government that they study the possibility of using satellites in high geosyncrynous orbit as solar cells. The idea was to transmit the solar energy thus collected to the ground to be converted into electricity.
David Kagan didn't like this idea. Not one bit. I only read the first two chapters of his book, understand, but it was obvious right from the dedication page ("This is a work of fiction... But in a few years, it could be fact.") that he not only didn't like NASA's proposal, but that he was downright terrified of it.
Unfortunately, he appears not to have ever so much as looked at a computer program, much less the sort of careful programming used for satellites. He also seems to know nothing whatsoever of the procedures used by a bureaucracy-controlled science. In David Kagan's story, the satellite collected solar energy, converted it into microwaves, and sent the microwaves to a power-processing plant, which converted the microwaves into electricity. Now, I don't know how NASA's proposed study planned to move the collected solar energy to the ground, and I suppose it might have actually used microwaves, but it seems pretty unlikely. But, since I never saw the proposal (which is six years past, by the way) I'll concede the possibility.
In the book, some object damaged the satellite. I never read far enough to know the origin of the damaging object, but given the description of it as a radar-invisible, fiery sphere, I suspect it was fired maliciously at the satellite. By the Russians, no doubt. This collision 1) knocked the satellite out of its orbit, and 2) confused its programming. The defunct satellite suddenly increases its energy collection and the subsequent strength of its microwave beam. The size of the beam changes as well. Half a mile wide, at the base. As the satellite drifts, this super-strong microwave beam travels slowly across the world, frying all plant and animal life in its path. The control base on the ground cannot get a signal through to the satellite to shut it off. This is where I closed the book, and after several moments of contemplation, tossed it in the trashcan.
I laugh at your stupidity, David Kagan. NASA does not create satellites that do not have redundant programming. A satellite in any way capable of generating a dangerous beam would almost certainly cease operations immediately upon receiving any damage. If I were designing a satellite, it would cease operations if it didn't receive the correct signal from the ground every so often - and I'm sure that NASA's designers have thought of better fail-safes than that. Programming, by the way, does not get confused like that. It stops altogether, or it gets stuck on a certain loop, but it doesn't re-write itself! Oh, yeah, and no new electrical system (no new any kind of system, actually) is implemented without backup systems remaining in place! In the book, as soon as the satellite is damaged and the beam knocked off target, the entire city loses power. It might have blinked, but the old, redundant power station would have kicked in within seconds.
Oh, yeah, and I read the last couple of pages, and it looks like it took them weeks to disable the satellite. Um... Given the damage being done, it would only have taken the military a matter of hours to launch a couple of missiles at the damn thing and destroyed it completely to shut it down. (I don't know if this was proposed and rejected for some reason later in the story. The first two chapters only covers about ten minutes.)
BZZZZZZT! Thank you for playing! Don't quit your day job, Mr. Kagan!
So, after careful consideration, I decided that the world would be a better place for one less copy of this book, and I threw it away. I don't even want to turn it in to the used bookstore for credit. It was just bad. Stay away. Stay far away.
I'm usually willing to ignore minor holes in scientific logic, whether they were mistakes on the part of the author, or a deliberate bend in the rules of the universe. I'm usually willing to suspend disbelief in order to enjoy a well-written book with characters I can actually care about. But this thing was so badly researched, badly considered, and completely paranoid and reactionary that I had no sympathy for the characters and no reason to pretend that I believed the train of improbably events.
Okay, I feel better now that I've gotten that out of my system.
Friday, May 14, 1999
Matt pointed out to me last night that I'd made a slight error in my Wednesday entry: In describing my favorite dinner, I said I wanted Outback Steakhouse's Cinnamon Thunder for dessert. The dessert is actually called Cinnamon Oblivion. I was confusing it with Chocolate Thunder From Down Under, I guess. Anyway, it's fixed now.
And after yesterday's entry, K.T. and I have been having a conversation via e-mail lately about "favorites." I won't quote the entire conversation, because it's long and involved and has just lately turned into lists of examples, but the gist of the original point was a distaste for the word "favorite" because it implies that the so-designated thing is intrinsically better than everything else. I don't think the word ought to be banished - there are categories for which I have favorites. I listed The Princess Bride as my favorite movie of all-time, but there are times when I don't want to watch it. Does that mean it's not my favorite anymore? Of course not. If I had to choose only one movie to watch ever again in my life it would still be The Princess Bride. It is my favorite movie.
But there are categories for which I have no favorites. Favorite book? No idea. Changes from week to week. And I wouldn't recommend certain books to certain people, and just because I tell you I think you'd like a book doesn't mean that it was my favorite. It doesn't even mean that I liked it - just that I think you will. Sure, there is a core set of books that I've read and re-read until the words have been permanently engraved on my memory. But even that list rotates. When I was in high school and well into college, Glen Cook's Black Company series was - beyond a doubt - my favorite series. Now? I haven't picked up one of those books in years. Through most of college, Mercedes Lackey's Heralds of Valdemar books were among my most frequently re-read, but I haven't picked them up lately because I don't like the newer ones. I don't have a favorite book anymore. There are probably twenty books in my favorite books list. It doesn't mean anything to anyone besides me, anyway. If you want me to recommend a book, I'm much more likely to take into account what I know of your interests than my own favorites, assuming I know you at all.
Favorite song/album/musical artist? Hmph. I have an awful confession to make. I don't really give a shit about music. It's mostly just noise to me. There are songs that I like, and songs that I hate, and songs that I don't care about one way or the other, but seventy-five percent of the time, I'd much rather not listen to anything at all. I keep the radio on in the car because in the morning I like to hear the weather and news (it's often the only news I hear all day) and because I like to sing, and singing along with the radio is easy. But at home, I couldn't care less. If Matt puts on a CD, that's fine. If he doesn't, that's fine too. Every now and then, I'll really want to hear a certain song or CD or artist, and I'll put them on and play them over and over, and then I'll forget about music for another few days or weeks or months. There are a couple of bands that I almost always enjoy, but I don't consider them favorites.
"Favorite" also denotes real enjoyment. If you asked me what was my favorite sport to watch, I'd probably tell you basketball. But it isn't really. I don't like sports much at all. Basketball gets the top spot by virtue of being the sport I dislike the least, not by being the one I like the most. Is that a favorite? It doesn't sound like it to me, but anyone bothering to ask me about favorite sports probably isn't interested in that sort of detailed analysis.
One of the reasons I stopped using Microsoft's Internet Exporer as my web browser was that it started calling its bookmarks "favorites." How obnoxious is that? It was useful to me to bookmark my company's internal webpage, because that was where all the phone numbers and e-mail addresses were stored, but it was certainly not among my favorite websites! Ditto for sites such as UPS and FedEx tracking and search engines. These are extremely useful pages, and I visit them very frequently - but I don't like them per se. Netscape still calls bookmarks bookmarks, which I appreciate because it acknowledges that I may need access to something that is useful but not enjoyable.
I've rambled on long enough on this topic. You're my favorite reader, really.
And after yesterday's entry, K.T. and I have been having a conversation via e-mail lately about "favorites." I won't quote the entire conversation, because it's long and involved and has just lately turned into lists of examples, but the gist of the original point was a distaste for the word "favorite" because it implies that the so-designated thing is intrinsically better than everything else. I don't think the word ought to be banished - there are categories for which I have favorites. I listed The Princess Bride as my favorite movie of all-time, but there are times when I don't want to watch it. Does that mean it's not my favorite anymore? Of course not. If I had to choose only one movie to watch ever again in my life it would still be The Princess Bride. It is my favorite movie.
But there are categories for which I have no favorites. Favorite book? No idea. Changes from week to week. And I wouldn't recommend certain books to certain people, and just because I tell you I think you'd like a book doesn't mean that it was my favorite. It doesn't even mean that I liked it - just that I think you will. Sure, there is a core set of books that I've read and re-read until the words have been permanently engraved on my memory. But even that list rotates. When I was in high school and well into college, Glen Cook's Black Company series was - beyond a doubt - my favorite series. Now? I haven't picked up one of those books in years. Through most of college, Mercedes Lackey's Heralds of Valdemar books were among my most frequently re-read, but I haven't picked them up lately because I don't like the newer ones. I don't have a favorite book anymore. There are probably twenty books in my favorite books list. It doesn't mean anything to anyone besides me, anyway. If you want me to recommend a book, I'm much more likely to take into account what I know of your interests than my own favorites, assuming I know you at all.
Favorite song/album/musical artist? Hmph. I have an awful confession to make. I don't really give a shit about music. It's mostly just noise to me. There are songs that I like, and songs that I hate, and songs that I don't care about one way or the other, but seventy-five percent of the time, I'd much rather not listen to anything at all. I keep the radio on in the car because in the morning I like to hear the weather and news (it's often the only news I hear all day) and because I like to sing, and singing along with the radio is easy. But at home, I couldn't care less. If Matt puts on a CD, that's fine. If he doesn't, that's fine too. Every now and then, I'll really want to hear a certain song or CD or artist, and I'll put them on and play them over and over, and then I'll forget about music for another few days or weeks or months. There are a couple of bands that I almost always enjoy, but I don't consider them favorites.
"Favorite" also denotes real enjoyment. If you asked me what was my favorite sport to watch, I'd probably tell you basketball. But it isn't really. I don't like sports much at all. Basketball gets the top spot by virtue of being the sport I dislike the least, not by being the one I like the most. Is that a favorite? It doesn't sound like it to me, but anyone bothering to ask me about favorite sports probably isn't interested in that sort of detailed analysis.
One of the reasons I stopped using Microsoft's Internet Exporer as my web browser was that it started calling its bookmarks "favorites." How obnoxious is that? It was useful to me to bookmark my company's internal webpage, because that was where all the phone numbers and e-mail addresses were stored, but it was certainly not among my favorite websites! Ditto for sites such as UPS and FedEx tracking and search engines. These are extremely useful pages, and I visit them very frequently - but I don't like them per se. Netscape still calls bookmarks bookmarks, which I appreciate because it acknowledges that I may need access to something that is useful but not enjoyable.
I've rambled on long enough on this topic. You're my favorite reader, really.
Thursday, May 13, 1999
Overheard on the radio this morning:
DJ: Call in and tell us your top three movies that aren't Star Wars!
Caller: (Note please that the caller has a thick Southern accent, so I don't have to try to type it.) Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, Steel Magnolias, and Under Siege.
DJ: Steel Magnolias? Really?
Caller: Well, ya gotta be in touch with your feminine side...
Matt turned the radio off and I almost crashed the car, I was laughing so hard.
So what are my favorite three movies (that aren't Star Wars)?
1) The Princess Bride, hands-down. It's one of the few movies I own for which I actually know the names of most of the actors. (I'm terrible about things like that. I don't know who wrote that book, I don't know who wrote or drew that comic, I don't know who directed or acted in that movie, and I don't know who recorded that song. In a way, it's nice, because I can judge something on its own merits instead of assuming it will be one way or another because of the reputations of the people who made it. But it makes talking about these things sortof a pain.) Anyway, The Princess Bride is one of my all-time favorite movies.
Quote:
Inigo: Give me money!
Count Rugen: Yes!
Inigo: Power too, offer me that!
Count Rugen: All that I have!
Inigo: Give me everything I ask for...
Count Rugen: Anything!
Inigo: I want my father back, you son of a bitch! (killing Count Rugen)
2) Peter's Friends. I like Kenneth Branagh, even if he's a bit of a screen-hog. And I like movies that are funny and sad at the same time. And I like movies where the people are realistic and have real problems, and you don't have to wonder if they existed before the camera began to roll.
Quote:
Andrew: Oh, Mags! Peter's never been very interested in women.
Maggie: He's definitely gay, then, is he?
Andrew: How should I know?
Maggie: Well, you're his best friend!
Andrew: We haven't discussed it! I don't think he's very interested in men, either. That's the point: I don't think he's very interested, full stop!
3) Disney's Mulan. This is beyond a doubt one of the best Disney movies ever made. All of the characters in it are strong, but they all have their flaws. It's one of the few Disney movies I've ever seen in which the girl's father isn't either dead or a short, fat, doting idiot. And best of all, the re-writers at Disney studios didn't feel compelled to make this a love story.
Quote:
Mulan: I never want to see another naked man as long as I live!
DJ: Call in and tell us your top three movies that aren't Star Wars!
Caller: (Note please that the caller has a thick Southern accent, so I don't have to try to type it.) Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, Steel Magnolias, and Under Siege.
DJ: Steel Magnolias? Really?
Caller: Well, ya gotta be in touch with your feminine side...
Matt turned the radio off and I almost crashed the car, I was laughing so hard.
So what are my favorite three movies (that aren't Star Wars)?
1) The Princess Bride, hands-down. It's one of the few movies I own for which I actually know the names of most of the actors. (I'm terrible about things like that. I don't know who wrote that book, I don't know who wrote or drew that comic, I don't know who directed or acted in that movie, and I don't know who recorded that song. In a way, it's nice, because I can judge something on its own merits instead of assuming it will be one way or another because of the reputations of the people who made it. But it makes talking about these things sortof a pain.) Anyway, The Princess Bride is one of my all-time favorite movies.
Quote:
Inigo: Give me money!
Count Rugen: Yes!
Inigo: Power too, offer me that!
Count Rugen: All that I have!
Inigo: Give me everything I ask for...
Count Rugen: Anything!
Inigo: I want my father back, you son of a bitch! (killing Count Rugen)
2) Peter's Friends. I like Kenneth Branagh, even if he's a bit of a screen-hog. And I like movies that are funny and sad at the same time. And I like movies where the people are realistic and have real problems, and you don't have to wonder if they existed before the camera began to roll.
Quote:
Andrew: Oh, Mags! Peter's never been very interested in women.
Maggie: He's definitely gay, then, is he?
Andrew: How should I know?
Maggie: Well, you're his best friend!
Andrew: We haven't discussed it! I don't think he's very interested in men, either. That's the point: I don't think he's very interested, full stop!
3) Disney's Mulan. This is beyond a doubt one of the best Disney movies ever made. All of the characters in it are strong, but they all have their flaws. It's one of the few Disney movies I've ever seen in which the girl's father isn't either dead or a short, fat, doting idiot. And best of all, the re-writers at Disney studios didn't feel compelled to make this a love story.
Quote:
Mulan: I never want to see another naked man as long as I live!
Wednesday, May 12, 1999
Well, I've been seeing another round of "about me" e-mail questionnaires lately, so I hunted around until I found the most extensive one I could. Hold onto your hats!
Name: Born Elizabeth Carol Luck, now Elizabeth Luck Brooks
Nicknames: Liz
Handle: Dragoneyes (unless I'm on the MeadeHall, in which case all bets are off!)
Date of Birth: 9 November 1971
Marital Status: Married (first and hopefully only time)
Spouse: Matthew Christopher Brooks, married 18 April 1998
Children: No, thanks - I ate lunch on the way over.
Birthplace: Hampton, Virginia
Parents: Chet and Alma Luck, and in-laws Jill and Robert.
Siblings: John (younger by just short of three years). Sister-in-law Rachael and brother-in-law Evan, both younger.
Eyes: Two. Don't ask what color. Grey? Blue? Something in between?
Hair: Very long (to the small of my back) and brown with reddish highlights, apparently.
Height: 5'4"
Weight: More than I'd like it to be, less than it was six months ago, and we'll just leave it at that, OK?
Pets: One cat, black with a white throat. His official name is Diamond, but lately his nickname has been "Spud"
Religion: No thanks, I gave it up for Lent.
Job: Programmer/analyst for 3-G International
Hobbies: Reading, knitting and crocheting, reading, computer games, reading, role-playing games, reading, writing, and did I mention reading yet?
Tattoos and piercings: One set of ear piercings (one hole per ear) and just lately I've been wearing a temporary tattoo on my left ankle. I've thought about getting a real tattoo (something small and inconspicuous) but I can't decide on a design that I'd be willing to live with for the rest of my life. (Also, I'm not very big on pain. I had to psyche myself up to get my ears pierced.)
Things I Collect: Dust, when I'm sitting on the couch reading. Oh, the other kind of collect? Everything. I'm a real pack-rat.
Best Experience: Marrying my best friend
Worst Experience: Graduate School
Worst Habit: Hmm. There are so many to choose from... Okay, I tend to judge people on first meeting them when I know I should get to know them better.
Ideal Future: I want to be rich, but not famous so I don't have to work unless I want to and can spend my life living in the lap of luxury.
Favorite Number: 27
Favorite Color: Blue. Electric blue, midnight blue, any shade except baby blue.
Least Favorite Color: Weird question. I can't wear orange, yellow, red, or dark shades of pink, but I don't dislike those colors - I just don't wear them. There are some pretty awful combinations of colors - Matt has a T-shirt that's got bright purple and neon green.
Ideal Night on the Town: Dinner and a movie with my sweetie, or hanging out with a bunch of friends
Favorite Restaurant: Hey, nice segueway... Applebee's, Top's China take-out, Carmela's (Italian), Don Pablo's (Tex-Mex), and Outback.
Favorite Food: Um... Yes? Oh, all right. Ice cream, chips, sweet fruits, tomatoes, corn
Least Favorite Food: Seafood of any sort, spicy food (I don't even like pepper) and certain icky vegetables.
Favorite Alcoholic Drink: Bloody Mary, Tom Collins, or a screwdriver, depending on my mood and what's available.
Favorite Stones or Gems: Whoever wrote this was angling for an expensive present. Oh, what the heck: Sapphires or opals. One day I'm going to design a pendant or ring with both, in a silver setting.
Favorite Flower: Damned if I know. I like all sorts of flowers. My favorite rose is cream colored with dark pink or red tips, but it's not the only flower I like.
Favorite Season: Autumn
Favorite Holiday: Christmas
Favorite Part of the Newspaper: Comics
Have You Ever...
Used Tobacco? Never even tried it. I hate the smell.
Drank Alcohol? Yeah, but I don't drink much anymore.
Done Drugs? Tried it. Didn't like it.
Broken the Law? Probably. (That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it!)
Broken a Bone? Two toes and a finger, and I suspect I once had a greenstick fracture in my leg, but it was never confirmed.
Coke or Pepsi? Coke
Nike or Adidas? Geez, what is with these shoe-obsessed people? Who cares? Gimme a pair of Keds and let's just go play!
Blondes or Brunettes? Brune- What? Matt's hair is what color? Oh. Um... Blondes. Definitely. Yeah.
Open windows or AC? AC. Every summer I give thanks multiple times that I was born after AC was invented.
Righty or Lefty? Righty, though there are things I can only do with my left - like snapping my fingers.
Tall or Short? Well, everyone says I'm short, but I think that might just be because I have a lot of tall friends.
What is your biggest pet peeve? Um... I dunno. I'm easy to irritate. Probably it's people who say "nu-cu-lar" instead of "nuclear"
What is your most humiliating moment? And I want to know who thought it would be a good idea to put this question out! Did they think I'd actually tell you? (There are too many to choose from. If you know me in person, you were probably present for at least one of them. If you don't know me, then I don't want you to know how I've humiliated myself!)
What is your favorite breakfast? Waffles or French toast with bacon and sausage. And orange or tomato juice. Yum yum yum yum yum!
What is your favorite lunch? Tuna salad and crackers, sour cream and cheddar chips, and an apple cut into itty-bitty slices.
What is your favorite dinner? Anything I don't have to make myself. Prime rib from Outback steakhouse, with lots of that great bread, a sweet potato on the side, and their cinnamon oblivion for dessert. (Now I'm hungry...)
What do you think about abortion? I think it's a personal choice. My personal choice is that, as long as I will be able to financially support a child, I won't abort it.
What do you think about religion? I consider myself to be a spiritual person, but not a religious one. Other people's religions are fine with me as long as they are willing to go away when I tell them I'm not interested.
Do you agree with the quote "It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all"? Yes. Yes, absolutely. If I have to explain why, then you've never really be in love.
Would you have casual sex with someone you liked? Well, not now that I'm married. And I wouldn't have, before. But I recently came to the conclusion that there were times that I should have, as weird as that sounds.
Well, that's a sortof abrupt place to end a questionnaire. Oh, well. Enjoy! And - just to set the record straight - I adore these things, so if you'd like to answer this one and send it to me, I will read it gleefully and with great amusement and I promise I'll write back!
Name: Born Elizabeth Carol Luck, now Elizabeth Luck Brooks
Nicknames: Liz
Handle: Dragoneyes (unless I'm on the MeadeHall, in which case all bets are off!)
Date of Birth: 9 November 1971
Marital Status: Married (first and hopefully only time)
Spouse: Matthew Christopher Brooks, married 18 April 1998
Children: No, thanks - I ate lunch on the way over.
Birthplace: Hampton, Virginia
Parents: Chet and Alma Luck, and in-laws Jill and Robert.
Siblings: John (younger by just short of three years). Sister-in-law Rachael and brother-in-law Evan, both younger.
Eyes: Two. Don't ask what color. Grey? Blue? Something in between?
Hair: Very long (to the small of my back) and brown with reddish highlights, apparently.
Height: 5'4"
Weight: More than I'd like it to be, less than it was six months ago, and we'll just leave it at that, OK?
Pets: One cat, black with a white throat. His official name is Diamond, but lately his nickname has been "Spud"
Religion: No thanks, I gave it up for Lent.
Job: Programmer/analyst for 3-G International
Hobbies: Reading, knitting and crocheting, reading, computer games, reading, role-playing games, reading, writing, and did I mention reading yet?
Tattoos and piercings: One set of ear piercings (one hole per ear) and just lately I've been wearing a temporary tattoo on my left ankle. I've thought about getting a real tattoo (something small and inconspicuous) but I can't decide on a design that I'd be willing to live with for the rest of my life. (Also, I'm not very big on pain. I had to psyche myself up to get my ears pierced.)
Things I Collect: Dust, when I'm sitting on the couch reading. Oh, the other kind of collect? Everything. I'm a real pack-rat.
Best Experience: Marrying my best friend
Worst Experience: Graduate School
Worst Habit: Hmm. There are so many to choose from... Okay, I tend to judge people on first meeting them when I know I should get to know them better.
Ideal Future: I want to be rich, but not famous so I don't have to work unless I want to and can spend my life living in the lap of luxury.
Favorite Number: 27
Favorite Color: Blue. Electric blue, midnight blue, any shade except baby blue.
Least Favorite Color: Weird question. I can't wear orange, yellow, red, or dark shades of pink, but I don't dislike those colors - I just don't wear them. There are some pretty awful combinations of colors - Matt has a T-shirt that's got bright purple and neon green.
Ideal Night on the Town: Dinner and a movie with my sweetie, or hanging out with a bunch of friends
Favorite Restaurant: Hey, nice segueway... Applebee's, Top's China take-out, Carmela's (Italian), Don Pablo's (Tex-Mex), and Outback.
Favorite Food: Um... Yes? Oh, all right. Ice cream, chips, sweet fruits, tomatoes, corn
Least Favorite Food: Seafood of any sort, spicy food (I don't even like pepper) and certain icky vegetables.
Favorite Alcoholic Drink: Bloody Mary, Tom Collins, or a screwdriver, depending on my mood and what's available.
Favorite Stones or Gems: Whoever wrote this was angling for an expensive present. Oh, what the heck: Sapphires or opals. One day I'm going to design a pendant or ring with both, in a silver setting.
Favorite Flower: Damned if I know. I like all sorts of flowers. My favorite rose is cream colored with dark pink or red tips, but it's not the only flower I like.
Favorite Season: Autumn
Favorite Holiday: Christmas
Favorite Part of the Newspaper: Comics
Have You Ever...
Used Tobacco? Never even tried it. I hate the smell.
Drank Alcohol? Yeah, but I don't drink much anymore.
Done Drugs? Tried it. Didn't like it.
Broken the Law? Probably. (That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it!)
Broken a Bone? Two toes and a finger, and I suspect I once had a greenstick fracture in my leg, but it was never confirmed.
Coke or Pepsi? Coke
Nike or Adidas? Geez, what is with these shoe-obsessed people? Who cares? Gimme a pair of Keds and let's just go play!
Blondes or Brunettes? Brune- What? Matt's hair is what color? Oh. Um... Blondes. Definitely. Yeah.
Open windows or AC? AC. Every summer I give thanks multiple times that I was born after AC was invented.
Righty or Lefty? Righty, though there are things I can only do with my left - like snapping my fingers.
Tall or Short? Well, everyone says I'm short, but I think that might just be because I have a lot of tall friends.
What is your biggest pet peeve? Um... I dunno. I'm easy to irritate. Probably it's people who say "nu-cu-lar" instead of "nuclear"
What is your most humiliating moment? And I want to know who thought it would be a good idea to put this question out! Did they think I'd actually tell you? (There are too many to choose from. If you know me in person, you were probably present for at least one of them. If you don't know me, then I don't want you to know how I've humiliated myself!)
What is your favorite breakfast? Waffles or French toast with bacon and sausage. And orange or tomato juice. Yum yum yum yum yum!
What is your favorite lunch? Tuna salad and crackers, sour cream and cheddar chips, and an apple cut into itty-bitty slices.
What is your favorite dinner? Anything I don't have to make myself. Prime rib from Outback steakhouse, with lots of that great bread, a sweet potato on the side, and their cinnamon oblivion for dessert. (Now I'm hungry...)
What do you think about abortion? I think it's a personal choice. My personal choice is that, as long as I will be able to financially support a child, I won't abort it.
What do you think about religion? I consider myself to be a spiritual person, but not a religious one. Other people's religions are fine with me as long as they are willing to go away when I tell them I'm not interested.
Do you agree with the quote "It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all"? Yes. Yes, absolutely. If I have to explain why, then you've never really be in love.
Would you have casual sex with someone you liked? Well, not now that I'm married. And I wouldn't have, before. But I recently came to the conclusion that there were times that I should have, as weird as that sounds.
Well, that's a sortof abrupt place to end a questionnaire. Oh, well. Enjoy! And - just to set the record straight - I adore these things, so if you'd like to answer this one and send it to me, I will read it gleefully and with great amusement and I promise I'll write back!
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