thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
I can't grow things. This is one of the basic facts of my life. If someone gives me a living plant, my only goal is to find someone else to give it to before my black thumb miasma begins to affect it and it loses its will to live. (Sometimes you can see our gift plants actively wilting the second they realize who their new owner is.) Our sole houseplant is one my mother gave to us when we bought our first house. It is an extremely accommodating plant, because it does not need much water, light, soil, or attention, and can survive for months apparently off of air alone. (We haven't been able to test it in vacuum, but I am pretty sure it would do fine without the air, too.) If I knew what it was, I would buy more, but I don't, so I just try to remember to water it every few weeks or so.

But last year, our neighbor across the street from our old house was offering small tomato plants for fifty cents each, and for some reason I bought some. I put them in containers we had left from previous growing experiments (the herb garden that the dog ate when she was puppy, the strawberry plants that never took), and watered them regularly, and after some time, we got tomatoes. Not a lot, but they were extremely tasty. The earthling loved them.

Then, in the middle of the summer, we moved. Our tomato plants did not survive.

In our new house, we don't have a gardening neighbor, but we do have an empty place where the pond used to be. (The previous owners had a fishpond. We have a toddler. One of our first moves was to remove the fishpond before the earthling fell into it.) We also have a sort of raised bed and a bunch of pots that used to have flowers before the old owners left them unattended for two months, meaning that we had to remove a lot of flower carcasses when we moved in.

So this year, I have planted many things, largely in a spirit of experimentation, and because the earthling likes buying seed kits. Our success has been - well. The raised bed now contains zucchini and tomatoes, and two things are obvious about it:
  1. I didn't space the plants right.

  2. I missed the notation on the zucchini label that said "evil, carnivorous, mutant variety, bred by mad scientists to meet your world domination needs."
The raised bed is a solid mass of greenery. Most of the individual zucchini leaves are large enough that we could sew outfits for the earthling out of them, if they weren't covered in prickles. I swear the zucchini plants move; I see them shifting out of the corner of my eye, and each day they have visibly grown. One of them appears to be trying to launch itself out of the bed entirely. The tomato plants are now pressed against the wall and growing for their lives; they are acting like vines and growing up the wall of our house, and they have grown with such vigor they've actually uprooted the trellises they were supposed to use as supports. (The trellises are just kind of floating on a sea of green, now. I would pull them out, but I think the tomato plants would fight me for them. And they'd win.) The bed, what I can see of it by cautiously poking the zucchini and tomato leaves aside, is entirely free of weeds. The zucchini plants are probably eating them.

We have given up all hope of getting actual produce from this bed (there are zucchini and small green tomatoes in there, but I have no idea how I could pick them once ripe without risk to my limbs), and are providing the plants with all the water and food they want solely because we're afraid that if we don't we'll wake up one morning to find they've broken in through the windows and taken over the living room. We also try to keep the earthling away, because I am pretty sure I've seen green tendrils reach out for him when he walks by.

Elsewhere, we have green beans, which would definitely take the Most Terrifying Vegetable award if the zucchini-tomato mass hadn't redefined our concept of fear of green matter. Even the seeds were scary - giant and bulbous - and when they sprouted, they visibly distorted their peat pots. We had to transplant them within the week, with no hardening, because they were trying to climb up the blinds, and now they defy all attempts to train them to climb up their trellis; they're basically a giant bush of bean plants. The flowers are very pretty, though, and they haven't actually tried to eat anyone, so they are definitely taking second in the scary garden sweepstakes.

Third place is held by the pumpkin plant, which seems to double in size every two days or so and at this rate will be taking over most of the U.S. by the end of the summer. I realize that this sounds like a major threat, but don't worry; there's only about twenty feet between the pumpkin plant and the zucchini-tomato mass, so before it takes over, it's going to get eaten by the mutants. Again, I am not expecting actual pumpkins to come out of this. It seems to be wholly invested in producing leaves rather than fruits.

I tell you what: gardening is a whole lot easier in Harvest Moon videogames.

Anyway. We have some other things growing - herbs and so on. We've actually managed to get some strawberries from our strawberry plants, such that the earthling, if you say, "Do you want a strawberry?" will run to the back door with his mouth open, and every day he goes hopefully to the strawberry bed and signs, "Please, more, please, more, food to eat?" But mostly we are going to count ourselves well off if we all live through this gardening experiment.

And I keep searching for gardening communities on LJ and DW, but when I find them, they're all full of posts about fully utilizing your zone 3 gardening space, or permaculture, or forcing, which sounds bad but apparently is okay if you do it to plants. There are never any desperate posts that say, "Oh god the plants - the plants - they're COMING FOR ME. What do I do? Would a baseball bat work? I don't have a flamethrower!" Everyone else seems to be sedately growing food and flowers, instead of cowering before a mutant green strike force.

But I figure I can't be alone in this. Someone else out there has to be experimenting with gardening and mostly failing, right? Right? So, a poll. (Southern hemisphere types, I realize that this is out of synch for you. Do your best.)


Poll #3272 Garden Horror
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 233


Are you growing or have you grown any of your own food this year?

View Answers

Yes
150 (64.7%)

No
82 (35.3%)

In terms of total volume cultivated, how would you describe your garden?

View Answers

Some herb pots by the window.
44 (23.7%)

Containers.
44 (23.7%)

Small garden plot.
81 (43.5%)

Big garden plot.
17 (9.1%)

Acres. I could feed a community off my garden.
0 (0.0%)

In terms of actual gardening skill, how would you assess yourself?

View Answers

We sow the seed, nature grows the seed, we eat the seed. I really don't see how this can be difficult.
13 (6.1%)

I plant things. They mostly grow. I'm not an expert or anything, but...
82 (38.5%)

I'm proud to say no lives have been lost in my gardening experiments.
52 (24.4%)

OH GOD HELP MEEEEEEE THEY'RE COMING.
15 (7.0%)

What's to fear? Everthing's dead.
51 (23.9%)

What should I do about my garden?

View Answers

Remain calm.
123 (53.5%)

Buy a machete.
105 (45.7%)

Buy a flamethrower.
41 (17.8%)

Salt the earth.
16 (7.0%)

Put the house on the market before the zucchini take over.
22 (9.6%)

I don't know what to say about this year, but next year, don't grow anything.
9 (3.9%)

It's totally normal to fear your garden. All the best gardeners do. Martha Stewart sleeps with an herbicide sprayer under her pillow.
82 (35.7%)

Take photos so we can know how the end of the world started.
187 (81.3%)

thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
[personal profile] luzula made an awesome podfic of my Yuletide 2008 story Hunting High and Low, which is in the extremely popular Take on Me (music video) fandom. (She also, um, pointed out to me that A-ha is Norwegian. All this time I thought they were Swedish. It was the hair gel that misled me, I think. Who knew Norwegians could have such artfully tousled hair? Anyway, it's fixed now. Thank you twice, [personal profile] luzula! Truly, you are amazing.) People, you should download this, if for no other reason than to hear [personal profile] luzula talk. Her accent is lovely and peculiarly perfect for this story!

And some wonderful anonymous person wrote Pursuit (The Pay to Play Remix), a remix of my Yuletide 2008 story Pursuit, which is for the slightly larger The Fast and the Furious fandom. (Less hair gel than Take on Me, but way more NOS; that's how you can tell them apart.)

Apparently 2008 was a good vintage for Yuletides, is all I can say. I only wish I'd written a third story that year - maybe someone would be inspired to do, like, a multimedia three-dimensional collage of it.

And this is probably a good time to say that my stories are always open for podficcing and remixing and so on. I just ask that you email or message me a link to your creation, so I can gloat.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
I kind of gave up on Star Wars; I think it was sometime in the middle of Attack of the Clones. I could just feel all my interest drifting away. (Although I still have love for the original series, of course.) But I spend a lot of my time at the park these days, and I tell you what: small children have not given up on Star Wars. The last two times we've been there, I've overheard some truly fascinating examples of - well, in a way, it's like very early fan fiction.

And in a way, it's like stand-up comedy. (Okay, more like run-around comedy. Still.)

The Theological Convictions of Boba Fett

Kid 1: You're Boba Fett!
Boba Fett, agreeably: I'm Boba Fett.
Kid 1: You have to stay Boba Fett all day no matter what.
Boba Fett, nodding: I'm Boba Fett.
Kid 1: And I'm God!
Boba Fett: Then you're dead. God is dead.
God, sounding shocked: God isn't dead.
Boba Fett: God's in heaven, right?
God: ...Right.
Boba Fett, in the tone of one who would say QED if he knew the term: So God is dead.
God, visibly feeling like something is wrong, but unable to put his finger on what: But - but - God is magic!
Boba Fett, confidently: And dead.

Poll #2789 Park 1
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 484


Who wins?

View Answers

Boba Fett. Hard to argue with logic.
426 (88.0%)

God. Hard to argue with magic.
58 (12.0%)



The Trouble with Yoda

Boy 1, arriving at play area with tiny girl in tow, sounding glum: My mom says we have to let her play.
Boy 2: I just give my brother a toy. [He hands her a lightsaber.] Here. You're Yoda. You have to be Yoda because he's small and you're small.
Tiny Girl, gripping lightsaber: I'm Yoda!
Boy 2: And I'm the taxi man.
Boy 1, in ominous tones: And I'm a VAMPIRE.
Yoda, standing firm with lightsaber: I'm Yoda!
Taxi Man, running at her with a stick: I'm going to hit you, Yoda!
Yoda, whamming him with the lightsaber: Can't hit me! I'm Yoda!
Vampire, from across the play area: I'm going to BITE YOU.
Yoda: Can't bite me! I'm Yoda!
Vampire, making claw hands and swooping in with his stick: ARRRRRRRR, I'm BITING YOU.
Yoda, getting him in the the knees with the lightsaber: CAN'T.
Vampire, bewilderedly: You're afraid of vampires! Why aren't you afraid?
Yoda: I'm Yoda. Yoda isn't afraid!

[The vampire and the taxi man retire, probably to discuss the Yoda problem. She watches. They, perhaps unwisely, turn their backs to whisper privately.]

Yoda: YAAAAAAAAAAAH!

[She charges and nails them both with the lightsaber from behind.]

Vampire and taxi man: OW. NOT FAIR.
Yoda, collecting the sticks they dropped during the surprise attack: Yoda wins!

Poll #2790 Park 2
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 525


Who wins?

View Answers

Yoda. YAAAAAAAAH!
102 (19.4%)

Yoda. Now I want to see a new version of the movies, with Yoda played by a tiny girl.
126 (24.0%)

Yoda. Now I want all politicians to conduct their business with lightsabers.
39 (7.4%)

Yoda. She could probably take over the world if she didn't have to take a nap.
258 (49.1%)

thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
A couple of times a month, Best Beloved, the earthling, and I will go out to breakfast at a locally renowned diner-ish place. It has a shelf by one of its windows where people can set out free literature: brochures, yes, and also the Skeeviest Postcards You Ever Did See, but mostly magazines and catalogs. These catalogs and magazines are divided into general categories:
  1. Gay: It's Not a Lifestyle, We Just Like Built, Pretty Men with Huge Cocks

  2. Marijuana: It's Not Even a Drug, It's Totally a Lifestyle, and If You Happen to Be Using Any, We Are Sure It's for Entirely Legal Medicinal Purposes That We Can Definitely Provide You with a List of, in Case You Accidentally Forgot What Those Purposes Were

  3. Whackmobile-o-rama: Now with a Free Ticket to Lemuria
The earthling loves this area, because the shelf is located maybe a foot off the floor, meaning he is free to browse through the publications and make selections that he carries to us. This is how we got my favorite ever "GLBT" magazine. I put "GLBT" in quotes, because in my experience, what that actually means is "We're only putting cisgendered gay men on the cover, and we're only writing about gay men and circuit parties and Dolce and Gabbana, but you LBT types are also welcome to read us. If you want to." My favorite "GLBT" magazine has, of course, a shirtless, six-packed (white) man on the cover. His head is carefully positioned so that, in the subheader "for the gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered community in Southern California" he obscures "lesbian, bisexual" completely, and most of "and transgendered" as well. It's not really a visual metaphor; it's just truth in magazine covers.

Anyway. We are generally at least mildly interested in the publications in the first two categories, or we pretend to be while the earthling is watching us, but the third is obviously the superior one. And my favorite example of this is a brochure for the Los Angeles Conscious Life Expo. I mean no offense to any of you living Conscious Lives (I am sure you are not, personally, insane) when I say that, to a person who lives a plain old mundane (unconscious?) life, this thing is hysterical.

Some of the offered panels and classes are relatively normal-sounding ("Optimal Thinking for Turbulent Times" could just as easily be offered at a management seminar, not that I am suggesting that those are bastions of sanity), but then you get things like "Nibiru, 2012, and You" (no, I didn't know what Nibiru meant, either, but you should really go read the Nibiru Collision Wikipedia entry, if for no other reason than the, um, "photographic evidence") and "The Government Response to '2012' and What Obama Knows." (I really don't think you can cover what Obama knows in a three-hour workshop, but I'm getting the sense that there's something major on the whackmobile horizon for 2012. Excuse me, I meant '2012.' Apparently it has to do with Interdimensional Communications and The Shift, judging by other panels, but I'm really hoping it has no connection to the Unleash Your Secret Healing Microbes thing, because interdimensionally communicating shifting secret microbes in a government cover-up - I don't actually want to live a Torchwood plot.)

My point about this, though, is that in this brochure, I have found the Well of Lost SG1 Plots. Or maybe not lost; it is entirely possible that the entire show was written from previous Conscious Life Expo brochures. (You can't tell me they don't also have Conscious Lives in Vancouver, and apparently when you have one, you want to exhibit it.) Check out these seminar (Workshop? Panel? Shouting contest? Whatever.) titles:
  • Ascension: Masters of Immortality. Hi, Daniel! And, you know, Oma. Plus the Greek Chorus of smug folks of questionable morality.

  • Legacy of the Gods: Keys to Our Cosmic Past. Goa'uld. Obviously. In my head, this panel thing is hosted by a completely raving version of Daniel who never got recruited by the Stargate program and went irretrievably insane in that Cassandra-ish way. I picture him with long unkempt hair and an old car with a lot of bumper stickers on it, many of them in hieroglyphics. He probably hosts an AM radio show.

  • Freedom's Gate: America's Temple of Ascension. If this is not the stargate, I don't know what it is. And, for the record, I don't want to. Some things should not be googled.

  • The Sound of Light. I've, you know, never actually seen the show, but wasn't this the episode that had that sequence with Daniel on the balcony and Jack hugging him that you see in all the vids?

  • Claim Your Second Life Now!!! (Yes, all those exclamation points are in the original. Please tell me you don't think I would do that of my own free will.) Actually, Daniel's claiming his seventeenth life, but then I would expect him to be leading the pack. Of course, I can claim a Second Life right this minute by visiting a website and registering. Maybe they're talking about that.

  • The Future of People. ...As beings made of energy on a different plane, one assumes. Or maybe they mean as Soylent Green, but obviously the Stargate showrunners thought more in terms of energy bodies, which is exactly what is wrong with SF on TV these days, if you ask me.

  • Regenesis: 5th Dimensional Light Bodies. And again with the ascension. It's a theme. I just - reading this, I worry that there are people who watch SG1 and SGA and think they're documentaries, in which case - oh, god, I just want to hold them and tell them it isn't so. Although I probably can't. Strong incense and patchouli make me wheeze.

  • Proactive Manifestation of Future History. I have no fucking clue what this means, but I'm pretty sure Merlin knows. Also, after a lengthy pause to parse this, I have concluded that it maybe means making the future happen early? Maybe? In which case NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT. I have read that story. It never ends well.

  • Galactic Awakening. This is the Ori, or I will eat something. Not a hat, mind you. Maybe a cookie. But, still, I am pretty sure that late in the run of SG1, the writers were flipping through a Conscious Life Expo brochure and saw this and exclaimed with joy.

  • Ascension Panel: The 7th Golden Age of Humanity. Do I even need to say it? No. So I'll just say - we've had six previous ones? When? And, um. If ascension is anything like it is in the Gateverse, I would not describe it as a Golden Age of Humanity. Maybe a Golden Age of Assholes. That's as far as I'm willing to go.
If I had known free publications were all I needed to write for television, I'd've chosen that career path. (I am assuming the people who read the gay magazines wrote for Queer as Folk, but what do the people who read the marijuana stuff write?)

But my real point is, maybe we should be grateful SG1 and SGA were canceled when they were, because I think the showrunners had run out of useful workshop titles, and for future seasons they'd have had to mine, like, the Tantric Love Energy workshops. Or the ones about Optimal Thinking and Money Management. Or the one about vaccines. I - I am glad I didn't have to witness that, even secondhand.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
[profile] brown_betty and I have been discussing woobies. Further research - for the good of science! - is now required, and so I come to you for help. I need a list of woobies.

TVTropes has a great page on woobies [Warning: [profile] cherry_ice and I have determined that TVTropes is a black hole. If you click on this link, there is a chance you will never escape from the website. Leave a message for your loved ones before you click. Also it's a good idea to pack a lunch.], which features this definition:

"[The woobie] is that character you want to give a big hug, wrap in a blanket and feed soup to when he or she suffers so very beautifully."

And there is, of course, a huge long list of woobies attached, but a lot of those people are woobies in canon more than in fan fiction, and I want the fannish ones. I'm looking for the person in a given fandom who is always being hurt (and then comforted), the person who you just know is going to have a secret shame or a secret trauma or a secret disease, probably while he is being raped and beaten in prison by Nazis with spiky boots. In other words, I want to know who, in your fandom, is the character who you'd immediately think of if you read this header:

Title: Recovery and Revelations Part 7, 1/???
Series: Hold Me Tight Tonight (Confronting the Darkness)
Author: I <3 Woobies!
Summary: To protect the ones he or she loves, Character X sold his or her body to evil slaver alien wizards. Now Character X is finally back home. Can the [team/family/friends/loved ones/etc.] help him or her recover?
Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, torture, past child abuse and incest, betrayal, cutting, slavery, underage sex, involuntary drug use, porn, some swears.

In the future, there will be a poll. But first, I need the names to go in the poll. So tell me: in your fandom, who is the woobie? To make this extra-challenging, especially for you people in Harry Potter and Supernatural: you can only nominate one person per fandom. I want to hear about the Woobiest in All the Land.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
Anyone out there know San Diego? BB and I are going there with the earthling, and we've just realized we may be in big trouble in terms of feeding the earthling. (The first time we were there, I was in the first trimester of pregnancy and we spent half the time searching for food, because there did not appear to be any in San Diego - seriously, people down south, do you just not eat out at all? - and going somewhere with a woman in early pregnancy means you need a LOT of food. Best Beloved had no idea how much I was eating until that trip, and I remember the first morning she watched, horrified, as I ate my entire breakfast, and half of hers, and then two food bars. She told me later that she was genuinely afraid that I might eat her arm next, which was probably a good thing, as she was very diligent about the food search thereafter.)

Anyway. If you know San Diego, I would appreciate recs for:
  1. Kid-friendly, vegetarian-friendly places to eat. If they serve earthling-friendly food, that's a plus, but we can work his issues in most restaurants because he's distracted by everything going on around him. (Provided we do not ask him to eat hot dogs. Hot dogs are Just Wrong.)

  2. Kid-friendly places with very fast service. (Mongolian BBQs! Places where you order at a counter! Salad bars! Whatever! Sadly, the earthling will not eat at true fast food places, like McDonald's or Burger King. He judges them.)

  3. Grocery stores that are not Albertson's or Ralph's, where the parent of an earthling could purchase organic produce and all-natural snacks said earthling might actually eat.
We will be staying near Sea World, but are willing to drive to places if they serve food there.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
Best Beloved recently developed a desire to see a movie about a man with a disturbingly large moustache duking it out with a bald robot in a cowboy hat. Fortunately, there is a movie that meets this need. I was not judging this choice, but she still felt she had to defend it, and one point of her defense was that said movie was nominated for various awards.

This led, as was inevitable, to me browsing the IMDb for other nominees and winners of the Nebula for Best Script (given by your friends and mine, the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America). Which led me to discover that in 2000, the winner was The Sixth Sense, which beat out The Matrix, The Iron Giant, The Devil's Arithmetic, and a movie called Private Black Label 7: The Uranus Experiment 2.

Let me just repeat that: Private Black Label 7: The Uranus Experiment 2.

I read it out loud to Best Beloved, and she said, "Sounds like porn."

"It does," I said, "but why would they nominate porn for a screenwriting award?" (In my youth, I sat through several porn movies, and I tell you what: even if there had been a Nebula for Best Script That's at Least 50% "AAH!" and "OH GOD YES!" these movies still would not have won. Somewhere there is good porn, I'm guessing, but none of the guys I knew in high school or college knew about it.) So I checked. It is, in fact, porn. The plot keywords are Hardcore, Orgy, Second Part, Ejaculation, and Spaceship, which - wow, evocative. You can kind of see the story unfolding, can't you? In fact, I think I've read that story. Hmmm.

This obviously leaves me with a burning need to know what the hell is so special about Private Black Label 7: The Uranus Experiment 2. (Also I'm wondering how it got a Nebula nomination, and what exactly the voting process there was, but that, I figure, is a story for a different time. I am betting massive quantities of wank were involved - and, um, not just the kind you do by yourself.) Has anyone out there actually seen this cinematic masterpiece? (Ask your friends! And your parents! And your teachers!) Is it the kind of gripping, brilliant work Ursula Le Guin would have produced if she had ever been inspired to write hardcore spaceship orgy porn? (Ursula! Call me! I have a pitch for you!) What makes it so much better than parts 1 and 3, which were not nominated? (I mean, part 1 apparently had a sex scene filmed in NASA's vomit comet, which shows enormous dedication on the part of the actors and whoever put up the money, but that didn’t make it worthy of consideration.)

I just. I yearn to know. And yet I doubt Netflix carries this undoubtedly excellent title, and also, I really, really don't want to watch it. But someone somewhere must have!

Or, alternatively - somewhere out there, there must be a person who watches a lot of het porn. There is a recapping job just crying out to be done here, person!
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
New poll on the future (flying cars and otherwise) on LJ! Please come tell me what you think about the future! And robots!
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
I have been watching All Things Kirk and Spock lately, including some of the original-cast movies. Which means that recently I saw The Wrath of Khan. Spoilers for the second Star Trek movie )

But that is not my point. (I just can't talk about anything without talking about Spock these days.) My point is that I realized, watching that movie, that it seemed totally reasonable to the makers of it that by 1996 we would have:
  • Genetic engineering of complex traits in humans
  • Long-term cryogenics from which you could reliably be, you know, unfrozen
  • Prolonged deep space trips featuring (frozen) humans
Those of you who remember 1996 (and if you do, think on this: there are now teenagers whose excuse for not remembering 1996 is that they weren't born yet) will probably also recall that we did not have any of those things then. And, in fact, we don't have them now. And it's not like we're expecting them next year, either.

This, taken in conjunction with a recent post on my friends list, made me think about the future. Are we in it?

(For extra credit, please list your favorite Signs of the Future (either realized or not) in the comments.)

[Poll #1508335]
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
They're coming to take us away. Our internet, I mean, and also everything else in our house. The theory is that we will get our stuff back in our new house, and it will have internet on Monday, but not one other thing in this move has gone according to plan, so I'm not counting on that, either.

I am, however, hoping for a kind and naive neighbor with an unsecured wireless connection. If I don't get that, I will see you when I see you.

As I was shutting down my computer prepartory to moving, I found a number of half-finished posts and posts I never got around to, you know, actually posting. And I thought I would leave you with one of them. This I wrote after I wrote the fanfic warnings post, because, let's face it. Published writers need warnings at least as much as we do. So I thought I would come up with just a rough start - I mean, obviously there are many many many more warnings needed. Feel free to leave them in the comments. Maybe we can get together a definitive list.

(And, yes, I had at least one specific published writer in mind for each one of these. I offer bonus points, which can be redeemed for many imaginary prizes, to anyone who can guess which writers go with which warnings.)

Published Author Warnings

WARNING: I used to have a three-dimensional character, and then I fell in love with him, and now he is Prince Sparklepants Shinyhorse, the most perfect man/vampire/werewolf/demon/half-unicorn/whatever in all of creation. Also, if people criticize him, or my writing of him, I will go off the rails. On the internet. It will be funny in that way where you keep wondering why my family and friends aren't taking care of me.

WARNING: I write fiction, but I believe every word. If you don't, I will send my characters to kill you.

WARNING: If you read one chapter of any of my books, you will end up reading my entire body of work in a week and a half. After it's all over, you will find you are unshowered and vaguely sticky. You'll have blank spots in your memory and a pervading sense of shame you can only cure by fucking a stranger in the backseat of your grandfather's convertible. (If your grandfather doesn't have a convertible, you're out of luck.)

WARNING: If you read anything I write that isn't fiction, you'll never be able to read my stories again. (Special Certain Science Fiction Writers Corollary: If you encounter me on the internet, there's a 35% chance you'll give up on fiction entirely.)

WARNING: I am so done with this series, but, dude, I bought a house back on book 5 and I've got payments to make. Look forward to the next dozen installments, all of which will read like pastiche from increasingly unskilled hands.

WARNING: I'm not done with this series; I'm afraid of it. I spend all my time thinking of creative ways not to write another word of it. Please stop asking me about it; I'm already heavily medicated and hiding from my fans.

WARNING: I'm a big name. I don't have to listen to my editor anymore.

WARNING: I've decided I'm not writing the hard parts anymore. No more plot that makes sense! No more actual story! From now on, it's bad jokes and sex scenes all the way, baby.

WARNING: I don't think I'm my character. I just wish I was. She's shiny! And perfect! (Special Dorothy L. Sayers Only Exception: If you're Dorothy L. Sayers, you can get away with this. If you aren't, you can't. This means you. Yes, you too. Sorry! It was a one time deal, apparently.)

WARNING: I'm starting to hate my main character, but I'm not going to stop writing about him.

WARNING: I really love myself. A lot. Every word I write is spun gold in text form.

WARNING: I was really, really depressed when I wrote this. I'm hoping I can pass the trauma on to you.

WARNING: I did my research, and by god, you will know it if I have to hit you over the head with fifty pages of utterly extraneous exposition.

WARNING: I didn't do my research. If you notice, obviously you don't care about my art.

WARNING: I am completely fucking crazy. Seriously. All my sentences end with special crazy-flavored periods, and all my articles are special crazy-thes and crazy-ands. And that's just my fiction. In real life, I am even worse. I don't know why they're still letting me attend cons, or indeed leave my house.

WARNING: I...don't really get why we have to have women. I mean, in the species. They just bother me. I can think of only two uses for a woman:
  1. To give birth to everyone in the story.
  2. To act as anti-gay buffering devices. (Stories written since 1970 only.)
Fortunately, it turns out they can mostly fulfill these functions and still be a) dead b) entirely off the page or c) non-sentient.

WARNING: Turns out writing novels really doesn't work instead of therapy, but that hasn't stopped me from trying. For the last 35 years.

WARNING: I wrote this thinking of the movie rights. It's not really a novel, per se - it's more of a pre-novelization.

WARNING: I hate you.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
They're coming to take us away. Our internet, I mean, and also everything else in our house. The theory is that we will get our stuff back in our new house, and it will have internet on Monday, but not one other thing in this move has gone according to plan, so I'm not counting on that, either.

I am, however, hoping for a kind and naive neighbor with an unsecured wireless connection. If I don't get that, I will see you when I see you.

As I was shutting down my computer prepartory to moving, I found a number of half-finished posts and posts I never got around to, you know, actually posting. And I thought I would leave you with one of them. This I wrote after I wrote the fanfic warnings post, because, let's face it. Published writers need warnings at least as much as we do. So I thought I would come up with just a rough start - I mean, obviously there are many many many more warnings needed. Feel free to leave them in the comments. Maybe we can get together a definitive list.

(And, yes, I had at least one specific published writer in mind for each one of these. I offer bonus points, which can be redeemed for many imaginary prizes, to anyone who can guess which writers go with which warnings.)

Published Author Warnings

WARNING: I used to have a three-dimensional character, and then I fell in love with him, and now he is Prince Sparklepants Shinyhorse, the most perfect man/vampire/werewolf/demon/half-unicorn/whatever in all of creation. Also, if people criticize him, or my writing of him, I will go off the rails. On the internet. It will be funny in that way where you keep wondering why my family and friends aren't taking care of me.

WARNING: I write fiction, but I believe every word. If you don't, I will send my characters to kill you.

WARNING: If you read one chapter of any of my books, you will end up reading my entire body of work in a week and a half. After it's all over, you will find you are unshowered and vaguely sticky. You'll have blank spots in your memory and a pervading sense of shame you can only cure by fucking a stranger in the backseat of your grandfather's convertible. (If your grandfather doesn't have a convertible, you're out of luck.)

WARNING: If you read anything I write that isn't fiction, you'll never be able to read my stories again. (Special Certain Science Fiction Writers Corollary: If you encounter me on the internet, there's a 35% chance you'll give up on fiction entirely.)

WARNING: I am so done with this series, but, dude, I bought a house back on book 5 and I've got payments to make. Look forward to the next dozen installments, all of which will read like pastiche from increasingly unskilled hands.

WARNING: I'm not done with this series; I'm afraid of it. I spend all my time thinking of creative ways not to write another word of it. Please stop asking me about it; I'm already heavily medicated and hiding from my fans.

WARNING: I'm a big name. I don't have to listen to my editor anymore.

WARNING: I've decided I'm not writing the hard parts anymore. No more plot that makes sense! No more actual story! From now on, it's bad jokes and sex scenes all the way, baby.

WARNING: I don't think I'm my character. I just wish I was. She's shiny! And perfect! (Special Dorothy L. Sayers Only Exception: If you're Dorothy L. Sayers, you can get away with this. If you aren't, you can't. This means you. Yes, you too. Sorry! It was a one time deal, apparently.)

WARNING: I'm starting to hate my main character, but I'm not going to stop writing about him.

WARNING: I really love myself. A lot. Every word I write is spun gold in text form.

WARNING: I was really, really depressed when I wrote this. I'm hoping I can pass the trauma on to you.

WARNING: I did my research, and by god, you will know it if I have to hit you over the head with fifty pages of utterly extraneous exposition.

WARNING: I didn't do my research. If you notice, obviously you don't care about my art.

WARNING: I am completely fucking crazy. Seriously. All my sentences end with special crazy-flavored periods, and all my articles are special crazy-thes and crazy-ands. And that's just my fiction. In real life, I am even worse. I don't know why they're still letting me attend cons, or indeed leave my house.

WARNING: I...don't really get why we have to have women. I mean, in the species. They just bother me. I can think of only two uses for a woman:
  1. To give birth to everyone in the story.
  2. To act as anti-gay buffering devices. (Stories written since 1970 only.)
Fortunately, it turns out they can mostly fulfill these functions and still be a) dead b) entirely off the page or c) non-sentient.

WARNING: Turns out writing novels really doesn't work instead of therapy, but that hasn't stopped me from trying. For the last 35 years.

WARNING: I wrote this thinking of the movie rights. It's not really a novel, per se - it's more of a pre-novelization.

WARNING: I hate you.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
Our neighbor across the street is a very fine man who should just not drive. Ever. Once, as Best Beloved watched in bemused astonishment, he backed his SUV-type-car smack into the little red sports car he loves but almost never drives (because he has kids). He just - he put that car in reverse and hit the accelerator and did not stop until there was a CRUNCH sound. And then the sports car had to go away for a few weeks.

Twice, he's managed to back out of his driveway and somehow hit his lawn instead of the street. Twice. And I don't mean just brushing his lawn with a single wheel; he backed right straight across its lovingly-maintained greenness and dropped into the street off the curb with a resounding, car-shaking thump. And that's just what we've seen, and it's not like we watch him every minute, or even most minutes. (I will admit that I've thought occasionally that a webcam pointed at the front of his house would be bound to yield interesting results.)

It has reached the point where, if we're anywhere on the street and we see him getting into his car, we retreat at least fifty meters and try to put a solid barrier between him and us. And then we watch, because we know it will be good. (On Sunday, we had a 5.0 Richter scale earthquake. When it started, we were bathing the earthling, and as the house shook we looked at each other and said, "Either it's an earthquake or the neighbor just backed into our house.")

Best Beloved finds this pathetic. He's a nice man, he's successful, he has nice kids and a nice partner and a nice life, but when he goes into reverse, he takes his life and his insurance premiums in his hands. I, on the other hand, am entirely sympathetic, and here's why.

When I took driver's ed, I had never been behind the wheel of a car. I couldn't be covered by my parents' insurance until I had a learner's permit, and I couldn't get that until I had driver's ed, and to my parents, that meant that I could not so much as sit in the driver's seat. Which, fine. I doodled through several boring lectures and averted my eyes through many gruesome movies. And then came my big day. I showed up at the "range," which was an old motocross course the driver's ed people had bought and used to break in their students before they inflicted them on the actual public streets. And I expected I would learn how to drive.

Except. What happened was, we were all put in cars and told to just - go. No instructor in the car; he sat in a little tower and shouted at us through a radio. No instruction in, you know, how to drive. And everyone else was fine with that; they climbed into their cars like old pros and went. So I tried to, and I did fine. Until we were ordered to put our cars in reverse. Everyone else backed neatly and efficiently from one orange cone to another. I backed the car straight into a ditch. And I mean into that ditch. I couldn't get it out. The instructor couldn't get it out. Later, they had to bring a giant crane in to get it out. I am totally not kidding.

As I got out of my butt-down, teetering car and walked in shame back to the waiting area, the instructor yelled at me, "Why didn't you TELL me you didn't know how to drive?" And I didn't know what to say. It was my first range session. Of course I didn't know how to drive. I couldn't figure out how all those other people did. Didn't their parents worry about their insurance?

Anyway. Several years later, I was in college, and I was relating this story to a group of friends, as I have done many many times because it's one of those humiliations I cannot stop replaying in my head (especially, oh god, the jump down from the elevated driver's seat, and the long hot walk while everyone stared at me from their non-ditched cars, and the half-hour miserable wait while everyone else drove), and one of the people in the group sat bolt upright. "That was YOU?" he said. "They told us about you! You're FAMOUS!"

He took driver's ed two years after I did. They were still telling the tale of the girl who didn't know how to drive and backed into a ditch and they had to get a crane to get the car out. For all I know, they're telling it even now. It was yet another time in my life when I got to be the Horrible Example.

So I can relate to our neighbor. I haven't backed into a ditch in many years - really, it was just the once - but I still flinch every time I shift into reverse.

And the thing is, as we were talking about it, Best Beloved disclosed her own reverse shame story - one she had not previously told anyone, not even me, even though we've been married more than fifteen YEARS. I will not relate it here on the extremely off chance that the owner of other car reads this. (Also, she would hurt me.) And I shared with her a story I had never told anyone before, about how I hit the mailbox and knocked the whole thing into the street and didn't notice and a neighbor picked it up and put it on our lawn and my parents thought it was the victim of mailbox baseball (a popular pastime where I grew up) and cursed a little bit and then my father put it back up. And I never told them otherwise.

So we shared these stories, and then I started wondering how many other people have driving shame stories to share. (By "driving shame," I don't mean "I never use my turn signals." I mean, like, "I forgot to put the parking brake on and it rolled into the street and sat there for hours, forcing all our neighbors, as they returned from work, to drive into someone else's driveway to get around it.") I'm hoping it's not just Best Beloved and me and the guy across the street who have these stories. I mean, I can think of five of them right off the bat, including one that scares me more now remembering it than it did when I did it.

And the thing is, these are all more terrifying now, because we have the earthling. It's one thing to look back in shame; it's entirely another thing to be looking ahead in horror.

So: do you have any driving shame stories? I want to hear them! Not only will I feel less like an idiot (I backed into the ditch oh my god); I will also have a great resource to show the earthling in about 16 years, when he asks why he can't get a license.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
Dear Kind and Courageous Writer-Person,

I tried really hard to be sane with my prompts this year. I got them beta-read! I got them reviewed! I rewrote them four times, even though that required resubmitting the whole form each time, so you know my effort was sincere. (Also, this sincerity was responsible for something I call offer-creep; each time, more offers migrated to "any." Bravery through slothfulness!)

If I still came off as crazy, okay, fine. You caught me. I am. But this should in no way negatively affect your Yuletide experience. Truly, I will do my best to be a model Yuletide recipient.

I should warn you, though, that the crazy is probably going to flow freely in this letter. I can't supress it all the time. But it will be subdivided for your convenience, and that has to count for something.
Click here for the Longest Yuletide Letter Ever. Special bonus for anyone who survives the ordeal: song downloads! )
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
Older fandoms, you confuse me so. The story I'm reading right now has piercing gazes, searing gazes, cuddling, comforting, lengthy descriptions of eyes that change color (Green! Hazel! Gold! No, I'm not kidding - really, gold, and this isn't the right fandom for him to have been implanted with a Goa'uld.), marriage proposals, men of action sharing their feelings in astonishing detail and with great (sometimes searing) honesty, a guy telling another guy how beautiful he is, holding hands, kissing, and two adult men (of action!) with extensive disposable incomes living together and sharing a bed.

And it's gen.*

I am patiently waiting for the mutual declarations of eternal love while hugging (or crying; I'd totally take crying) in the rain. Then, and only then, will I be able to stop reading.

So, does anyone have a story from an older fandom to recommend to me? You people have mostly been at this longer than me - surely you've got some nice gen or slash story favorite from a pre-LJ fandom that you could link me to. Gen or slash welcome - especially gen that I can read as gen. Seriously. Save me from myself. And this story. I am just bewildered, here.

-Footnote-

* Another gen story in the same fandom (but by a different person) features a noted canonical horndog turning down NSA sex with a beautiful woman because he's in love with someone else - that someone being, of course, the guy who is his Entirely Not Slashy Totally Hetero Life Partner. (It also had a paragraph about their great and abiding love, and the Totally Hetero Life Partner isn't even in the story. Nor is there any explanation of why the THLP would want his "friend" to turn down the sex - I mean, seriously, it was just presented as "this is what you do when you're in love with your THLP, forswear sex and cleave only unto him, but in a straight and manly way." I guess I am just not straight enough to understand that.) And the author's note contained a diatribe against slash. Oh, my people.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
A while back, I, under orders to update my Infrequently Asked Questions post, begged you all to - well, ask me some questions.

It was an educational experience, to say the least. First, I learned that you are all awesome: when you are asked for questions, you come through in spades.

Second, and rather less awesome, I learned that all of you are tragically unaware of the joys of Ituna, a "growing east central Saskatchewan community." And this is a sad, sad thing to me. Because aside from the name (although if the Ituna leadership was forward-thinking, they would rename themselves iTuna, sell wireless fish, and cash in big), there are many other things to enjoy about Ituna.

Or, okay, its website. I've never actually been to Ituna. (Although I did believe for much of my childhood that Canada was a hotbed of anti-Semitism, and that Saskatchewan was the epicenter of the Canadian anti-Semitic movement, which meant for many years I feared Saskatchewan beyond all reason. This is a true fact, people. I spent years of my life believing that Canadians were notorious Jew-haters. And now I want my very own "Canada. Which I dig." t-shirt. Canada, we've come so far in our relationship!) But I've been to Ituna's website, and it is wads of fun. Like, in bragging about Ituna's many facilities, it notes that Ituna "offers good recreation facilities for a town of its size." That size, by the way - I checked - is, according to the Itunans, 777. I spent a lot of happy time trying to imagine what constitutes "good recreation facilities" for a town of 777 people - a book? A grain storage bin? Someone's collection of Precious Moments figurines? Alcohol? But then I checked - the handy thing about a town of 777 people is that it has the whole yellow pages listed on one page of the website, and you can read through it pretty quickly - and it turns out Ituna has BOTH a theatre (spelled in Canadian!) AND a magician. (No, really. He has a website and everything. If you are in the Ituna area, I encourage you to "Unleash the Astonishment at Your Next Event." Provided I am not invited, because magicians bother me.)

And then I clicked on the real estate for sale page, and oh my god. People, seriously, you need to see this. Or maybe I should be warning you not to click, because my first impulse was to go to Ituna just for the purpose of buying a house that cheap. There are homes for 24,000 - 35,000 Canadian dollars. If that doesn't make you want to go to Ituna just for the novelty of buying a whole house for less money than your average car costs, then - okay. Probably you don't live in Los Angeles, is what that means. But it fascinated me.

In fact, I am kind of in love with the Ituna website, and also with Ituna and its many facilities, and if I ever find myself in Saskatchewan (suggested motto: "Not really a hotbed of anti-Semitism, we swear"), I am so going to Ituna, just to see those facilities in person.

Okay. So. On to the actual question-answering portion of this event.

The questions are grouped by general topic, and ordered within each section by number of times asked. I amalgamated a lot of questions, and edited some of the ones I didn't amalgamate. If I failed to answer your question - and it's possible, because there were a lot, and I am only human - or if you somehow have more unanswered questions, drop a line in the comments and I'll add to this post. With your help, it can become the longest post in my LJ history!

Be warned: this is already what is technically known as a "long-ass post." (Or, more informally, tl;dr.) If you try to read it all in one sitting, you may experience nausea, headaches, mystic crystal revelations, and the inability to make a fist.

Me: Self-Absorption Goes to Eleven! )
Fandom and Me: OTP. )
Recommending: The Fannish Social Disease. )
My Family: Those Unlucky Souls Who Have to Put up with Me All the Time. )
LJ: The Most Obsessive Place on Earth. )
Miscellaneous: Y'all Are Crazy, but I Love You. )
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
This is one of my periodic attempts to keep my various internet selves all organized and accounted for. (It doesn't work, but I think the effort is what counts, don't you?) So, if for some reason you want to find me somewhere else:

I'm thefourthvine on InsaneJournal.

I'm thefourthvine (just for variety) on GreatestJournal, and I'm also keeping an off-site backup of my LJ posts there. (Thanks for the kick in the ass to do that, [livejournal.com profile] brown_betty. And if anyone else is wondering how to do it, and do it easily, I used Betty's helpful instructions.)

I'm thefourthvine (Look, I don't like change, okay?) on GoodReads, where I'm experimenting with reviewing some of the published stuff I read. Notes: these are not considered, thoughtful reviews, they are not consistently positive reviews (or even consistently not frothing at the mouth reviews), and at this point they're also pretty haphazard; I've just been clicking around until I feel the urge to review coming over me. Also, I'm brand-new to the GR thing, and I'm making mistakes; people who have already friended me there have been spammed with reviews of older books. I've figured out how not to do that now. But other mistakes are inevitable. Join me now and you can point and laugh! (And tell me what to read, too. That would be nice.) ETA: I really am entertainingly new to this. Apparently I'm TFV, not thefourthvine, on GoodReads. Perhaps I should change my name to "easily confused by text boxes."

I'm thefourthvine (Consistency is a virtue. It's a foolish consistency that's the hobgoblin of little minds, thank you very much.) on IMEEM, too.

And I'm sometimes [livejournal.com profile] littera_abactor right here on LJ. (Well, I had to have one different name. It's a rule. I think. I, uh, kind of lost the Official Internets Rulebook, v. 3897.144. Please don't tell on me.)

...And I think that's all of me. I'll look around and see if I've got any more of me lying on a virtual shelf somewhere, though.

Soon: a return to actual recommending! Probably! Or maybe meta! Content, is my point. (Oh, content, how I've missed you.)

ETA2: And [livejournal.com profile] cofax7 and [livejournal.com profile] bluevsgrey have reminded me that I'm TFV on del.icio.us. Apparently I need skilled professionals to help me keep track of myselves. This can't be a good sign.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
I have learned many important lessons in the last week and a half, and I want to share just a few of them with you. True, they probably won't ever actually be useful to you. Frankly, you should probably plan your life so that they're not. But I'm damned well going to share them anyway.
  1. You can totally use complimentary hotel toiletries to wash a dog. Your dog's coat will be silky-soft, full-bodied, and shiny afterward, and you will briefly consider sending an unsolicited testimonial to the manufacturer. Do not do this. It's just hotel-room psychosis setting in.

  2. Bathing a dog in a hotel bathroom is not the most fun you will ever have. It's not the most fun the dog will ever have, either. (Tip: be on the other side of the shower curtain from the dog at ALL TIMES. Particularly when you, after having lured her there under false pretenses and with many treats, show her the magical sky fountain. And most especially when you turn the magical sky fountain off. It is entirely possible to keep a firm hold on a collar through two layers of shower curtain, and if you know what's good for you, that's what you'll do.)

  3. Spending any significant amount of time with a dog who is covered in another dog's urine is even less fun than bathing her will eventually be.

  4. And if you want to experience a near total absence of fun, try being stuck in a small area with:

    1. A dog who is covered in another dog's urine, but is determined not to let this stand in the way of her social life.
    2. The dog who peed on the first dog and is thus undergoing a serious metaphysical crisis ("Do I exist? Does urine exist? WILL DINNER EXIST?"), with attendant digestive distress.
    3. A book called Why People Believe Weird Things.
    4. A Mormon insurance salesman (okay, "executive") who is not getting good cell phone reception and apparently can't sustain continued existence without talking to someone at all times.

    Trust me when I tell you that every potential topic of conversation in this situation is both uncomfortable and inevitable.

  5. Any conversational gambit that begins, "So, you seem like a smart girl, you like books and stuff [the "stuff" apparently being "deranged dogs," as that was the other thing it was obvious I liked, so be advised: if you want to find a smart girl, look in the dog training section of your local bookstore], so maybe you can tell me..." is bound to end badly. Avoid it. Feign death if you have to.

  6. But that conversational gambit (and all other ones, including, "What are you reading?" "So, why do people believe weird things?" "What's a fallacy?" "What kind of weird things, exactly?" "What religion are you?" "Are you married?" "Does your husband have life insurance?") is far preferable to, "So what's all this wet stuff on your dog's side?" Especially after the urine-covered dog has made exceptionally friendly (not to say utterly unstoppable) overtures to your new insurance-executive friend, and he has taken them with remarkably good grace.

  7. There is a time and a place for putting the Barnum Effect to work for you, and that time and place is when you find yourself giving relationship advice to a Mormon insurance executive.
So, that's how my life has been lately. (Specifically, yesterday. I mean, I did some other stuff, but somehow it pales in comparison to that fun-filled hour.) How are you? I'm pretty much missing out on fandom and my friends list, what with the trapped in a hotel room with dogs effect, so please let me know of any new stories or life events or vids or, you know, whole fandoms that have passed me by.

Seriously. Recommend something to me. I need things to distract me from my plan to strangle my dogs.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
During my recent unhinged breakdown over Netflix and Amazon's opinions of me, a number of you told me a) I was not alone and b) that various automated services were judging you.

This was extremely kind of you and made me feel much better. It is appreciated.

One thing I could not help but notice, though, is that many of you felt judged by Gmail or Google ads. This fascinated me. I've never felt judged by those things, but, well, I have a Gmail account and enough paranoia to go around. It seemed like a project was called for. (Look. I am trapped in a hotel room with dogs. You'd be bored, too.)

So, what has Gmail been trying to link me to lately? Here is the complete, exhaustive, annotated list:

Coffee Exposed - www.coffeefool.com - A shocking secret coffee co's don't want you to know

This is my Gmail default ad, or so it seems, based on the number of times I see it, and it's the primary reason I don't feel especially judged by Google Ads. (I judge the hell out of them, though, you bet. I mean, that apostrophe - that causes me physical pain.) Because, okay, there is just no way coffee companies care whether or not I know their shocking secret. (Which, by the way, is what, exactly - that they crossdress? That their beans are not shade-grown? That caffeine is addictive? That they stole a cupcake in second grade? I'm groping for a secret that coffee companies could have that would actually shock me. So far, nothing.) See, I don't drink coffee. Gmail, if you can't even figure out that basic fact about me, you really don't know me at all.

Although sometimes I wonder if Gmail is actually judging my correspondents. I tend to see that an awful lot across the top of [livejournal.com profile] makesmewannadie's emails and comments, for example, and when she's in my inbox, I'm much more likely to have that as my inbox ad. So, hey, maybe Gmail has moved past judging me and into judging my friends.

I'm surprisingly okay with that. MMWD, Gmail thinks you need to ease off on the coffee drinking!

Advanced Horse Exerciser - Exercise and condition horses of all ages safely.

Aaaaand from the one I see all the time to one I have never seen before and don't especially want to see again. I mean, seriously, horse exerciser? I don't have a horse. I wasn't talking about horses. I'm glad, in a vague and abstract way, that a product exists that allows horses of all ages to exercise (safely!), but - well. I'm not what you might call a primary market, here.

It made more sense back when I was getting dog training ads, which I did for a while during the height of the comments on the sweet potato story on [livejournal.com profile] littera_abactor. Horse exercising? Something of a reach, Gmail, though I appreciate the thought, and will mention it to any exercise-deficient horses I might encounter.

Write and Publish a Book - www.BookSurge.com - Through BookSurge, Amazon offers complete self-publishing services.

I'm eying you with violent suspicion right now, Amazon. Just FYI.

Macgyver Tee Shirts - www.cafepress.com - Phoenix Foundation logo t-shirts and Dalton Air tshirts $20/under.

I - just. Why, Gmail? Why? I realize there was a brief conversation with [livejournal.com profile] wyomingknott about MacGyver, but that was some time ago. You felt the ad would work best if you waited a week or two for me to research up on MacGyver before you offered me the t-shirt? Because, okay, that was good thinking, except it will take considerably more time for me to learn about this topic, so please get back to me with the ad no earlier than 2022. By then, I might have some idea what the Phoenix Foundation and Dalton Air are. (Watch. I will become obsessively fannish about this next week and you will all mock me openly.)

In the meantime, [livejournal.com profile] wyomingknott is probably a better market.

(Also, going from available sources, it would seem they are improperly capitalizing MacGyver. I'm not sure I'd buy a t-shirt from these people even if I did urgently want Phoenix Foundation memorabilia. And again with the punctuation agony. If you're going to pay for an ad, advertisers, maybe you could punctuate it correctly?)

Reuters: Oddly Enough - Naked US tourist shocks German city

I cannot begin to imagine why Gmail thought I'd care. I mean, if I knew the naked tourist, then maybe. (Did any of you take off your clothes in front of a German city recently? If you did, I want to know. With photos, if possible.) Otherwise, you have just offered me a link to a story that can be summarized as, "Dude, some random person got naked. In Germany!" This is not really what I consider news. If it was happening on Mars, it'd be news. If it was George W. Bush getting the urge to show Germans his manhood (run, German people!), it'd be news, although I can't say it'd be totally surprising news. But just some random person? That is not news. That is probably a college student.

Have A Cute 3 Year Old? - [URL redacted for skeeviness] - Easily Submit Your Baby Photos. Win Cash & Prizes. Free Membership!

CREEPY BEYOND ALL MEASURE. Ew, ew, EW. Let us speak no more of this. EVER.

ESPN.com - In progress: Rain-delayed Colonial resumes

I - should I know what this means? I'm guessing something to do with sports. Sports you cannot do in the rain. Possibly colonial sports? Like, um, basketball? Curling? Australian Rules Football? Revolution? But it's all just uneducated guessing, because, really, I have no idea why I should care.

And why you felt it necessary to put this on an email about Doctor Who, Gmail, will remain forever a mystery. Unless you were thinking: "Hey, it's email between a Canadian and an American. Surely they are interested in the breaking news on all things Colonial!" In which case, speaking only for myself - the Canadian will have to make her own decision - no. No, I am not.

Rotten Tomatoes: Movies - Orange Winter

This came from an email containing a link to a shoeblog post. And nothing else. Call me crazy, but I was expecting the ad to be FOR SHOES. (The side ads for this one, by the way, included my old friend Coffee Fool and a CFA test prep course. ALSO NOT SHOES.) These targeted ads are not, shall we say, exactly shooting through a laser sight, here.

International Herald Tribune - Britain deports Muslim preacher linked to 2005 bombings

This came from an email conversation about the etiquette of commenting on stories. I can only assume that Gmail divined that this was a complex and challenging topic fraught with strife, and attempted to find a story of commensurate gravity. In which case: you overshot just slightly, Gmail. This might've been a good time to whip out the Naked Guy in Germany story, though.

Are You a Slacker Mom? - www.AreYouASlackerMom.com - 15 fun questions to see what type of parenting style fits you!

This is the only ad besides Coffee Fool to appear on my most recent bout of emails with [livejournal.com profile] makesmewannadie. I - yeah, I think this was an attempt to judge MMWD, again. (For the record: she is not a slacker mom. I'm not even sure what one is, but I know she isn't.) Gmail, it is wrong to cast aspersions on my friends just because I spend more time with them than with you.

NYT Travel - 36 Hours in Moscow

I am never going to spend 36 hours in Moscow. Seriously. Either it's going to be more or it's going to be less; I am not flying to Russia to eat lunch, take a nap, and catch a movie. Perhaps the idea of 36 hours in Moscow is supposed to make me feel all jet-set and wonderfully flashy, but instead it makes me think: yes. And are you counting the time it would take to go through Customs and security? Because I estimate that at four hours - conservative, I think you'll all agree - or just over ten percent of the total time I'd be in the country. No. No, if I ever do that, it won't be because the NYT travel section told me to, but rather because the person holding one of my dogs hostage demanded that I do so. Or because I was paid large sums of money. Those are the only possible scenarios where this is ever going to happen, and in either case, I won't be needing the NYT's advice.

More interesting, though, is the question of how Gmail decided this was the perfect ad to append to Best Beloved's breathless report that David Hasselhoff has a new book out called, apparently, Don't Hassel the Hoff. (With link to the publicity page for said book, which - wow. Don't go there, people. It will hurt your brain far more than any Gmail ad link could hope to do.) Perhaps Gmail felt that after that, I'd probably want to get the hell out of the country for a bit, in which case, accurate assessment, but I think they could only reach me with 36 Hours in the Lesser Magellanic Cloud. That, my friends, I would totally click through. Especially with all this Hoff Hasseling (is that like cow tipping?) that's apparently happening these days on earth.

Yahoo! News: Entertainment News - Criminalist Lee's credibility challenged (AP)

I really couldn't care less, to be honest. What's fascinating to me is the sidebar ads on this one. Art by Grace Slick! Recording the Beatles! Midnight Special the live Rock n' Roll Concert Show! The Brother Brothers! (Supernatural fans, shush.) 70S [sic] Rock Music! Seriously, what this says to me is: [livejournal.com profile] spike21 brings terrifying things in her wake. Terrifying things with big, scary hair.

Puppies at Puppy Paradise - [URL redacted on account of evil] - $100 in Free Gifts with Purchase of Any Puppy Today!

This one depresses me so much that I'm just going to have to not talk about it.

Instead, I will note that this was on an email from [livejournal.com profile] cherryice, who taunted me with her much more entertaining Google ad, and let me just quote her directly, here:

Underwater Treadmills for small animals. From the world leader in canine UWTs

She says: What gets me about this -- what really gets me -- isn't even the Underwater Treadmill bit, so much. It's that there is a WORLD MARKET, a world market large enough to have a LEADER.

I would add to that that this gave me a mental image of either of my dogs on an underwater treadmill. And - okay, no, that would never work, because:
  1. The LOOKS, oh my god the LOOKS of "Why are you doing this to me?" and "WOE, I suffer greatly" and "Behold, I am a poor bedraggled animal being tortured by monsters of cruelty. Someone save me!"
  2. I cannot picture how I would keep my dogs - who spring merrily off the big treadmill-like dog scale at the vet's office and wander off to see if the other animals have any interesting diseases they'd like to share - on a treadmill, unless it was a treadmill with enclosed sides and a roof.
  3. In which case - look, there's a name for an underwater treadmill with enclosed sides and a roof, and that name is James Bond Villain Torture Device. The market for canine-oriented James Bond Villain Torture Devices has to be - please, god, let it be - extremely limited. So when they say "world market," which parts of the world, exactly? I would like to know so I never spend 36 hours there.
ESPN.com - Stripper sentenced in NASCAR embezzlement case

Am I the only one waiting breathlessly for the movie treatment of this? Come ON. Stripper! NASCAR! Embezzlement! Tell me this is not going to be a major motion picture starring - oh, I don't know. Someone named Jennifer, probably - very soon. I am quite grateful to Gmail for giving me the heads-up on what is sure to be a fine piece of cinematic entertainment that I will not be seeing.

In the meantime, I have my questions about the actual story. Like, NASCAR, are you a bunch of morons? You handed your money to a stripper? In most places, when she takes the money, we don't call that embezzlement. We call it "accepting a tip." Possibly you are confused about stripper methodology here. For the record: you give bankers money you want to keep. You give strippers money if you want a lap dance.

Hasselhoff t-shirts - www.tshirtgrill.com - Original printed Hasselhoff t-shirts-three designs

THIS IS ENTIRELY BEST BELOVED'S FAULT. Oh my god, Gmail, I am NOT THIS PERSON. Send Best Beloved the Hasselhoff t-shirt ads! Not me! I am an innocent bystander. I was entirely unaware of Hasselhoff's cult of - I don't know what to call, it precisely, but "ego" seems more appropriate than "personality" - until recently, when [livejournal.com profile] sdwolfpup showed me two music videos (one in which Hasselhoff attempts to win the Worst Blue Screening award while holding a plastic fish in his mouth and dancing out of rhythm, and one in which he is wearing a "Don't Hassel the Hoff" t-shirt, which I now realize was fearsome marketing in action). I have not been the same since, although my doctors hold out some small chance of a full recovery for me. My point is: INNOCENT. Also, fragile and not to be randomly subjected to Hasselhoff-related ads.

...Okay, this is probably a good time to stop, since I do at last feel like Gmail is judging me.

And what have we learned? With enough scrutiny, you can read sinister intent into anything.

Also, I'm somewhat prone to paranoia.

And no one had better call me a Hasselhoff lover, damn it.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
Three things, almost entirely content free. (But one of them is a poll! There will be clicking, and that's always fun, right?)

I swear I will have actual content in this LJ again. Eventually. In the meantime -
  1. Remember the poll? Um, this one? Thanks to everyone who took it, by the way, and I am slowly working my way through the comments, because they are meaty and thought-filled and fun. And I'm knee-deep in meta about it, but it's taken a strange turn. So I'm hoping that some of you will do my a favor, and run a poll like this one:

    [Poll #831564]

    Basically, I want you to ask your friends what archetype they think you are. (I've alphabetized the archetypes to make finding them easier.) And while you're here, please do pick mine; I'm truly curious to see if there's a difference between how I see myself and how others see me. (In this sense only. I'm not crazy.)

    Sadly, I don't have bribes to offer. But if you do run a poll like this, and you also drop me a link in the comments here, I will be forever grateful. And you will be furthering the cause of meta. (I know, I know, it's not precisely ever fan's dream, but - stay with me, here, okay?)

  2. This is driving me insane, so - okay. I collect what I call genderswapped songs. Although, really, I should call them ungenderswapped songs - the song is covered by a singer of a different sex than the original one, but no gendered element of the song is changed. I have one song by Cam Clarke, from Inside Out, which is a whole CD of songs just like this. (The one I have is Son of a Preacher Man.) And I cannot find the whole CD anywhere. Does anyone have a copy of this? Or know where I can get a copy of this? I am experiencing the anguish of the thwarted collector, and it is not pretty.

  3. This is more of a bonus item; I found it interesting. If any of you watch AMVs - and if you don't, why not? - you might want to take a look at this AMV-related survey.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
Long ago, when the world was young (okay, about two years ago, but in fandom time that's like 37 generations), I developed the Urge to Rec Vids. (This was associated with, but not a direct result of, my attempts to learn how to watch vids. But that, my friends, is a meta of a different color, and that color would likely be beige enough to cause ennui-related brain damage.) But I was aware, from my hesitant proddings at the fringes of the vid world, that linking to or recommending vids was a different deal than recommending fan fiction.

(Note: This might have been true then. It's definitely not true now. Sorry; I just had to throw that in there. It's very hard to stay in a chronological first-person narrative without a lot of lapsing into "Ah, but had I known!" and "This is where I made my first mistake" and "In retrospect, that's when I should've started taking the malaria pills." God only knows how fictional narrators manage.)

So I looked around and found some discussion of this - as I recall, one post, with comments, about somebody linking to the poster's vid without permission, one essay, and one "Where Did My Vids Go and Why Aren't They Coming Back?" type statement on a website. The conclusions I drew from these sources:
  1. Vidders did not necessarily relish having their vids linked to or recommended, and really did not relish this happening outside the vidding community. (Actually, I kind of concluded that vidders did not much like non-vidders, period. But I'm now very aware that this was wrong, and also it was kind of stupid of me to believe it in the first place, so we will pretend that I never did, okay?)

  2. If anyone, but especially a non-vidder, wanted to link to a vid, it was absolutely mandatory to obtain permission first.
This was a problem for me. See, for me, there's fannish interaction - leaving comments, sending feedback, writing email, asking permission - and then there's fannish activity - writing, recommending, etc. I am fully functional when it comes to fannish activity. Interaction, though, not so much.

(Side note: You might think recommending would count as fannish interaction. But you would be wrong. As I've said to several people already, sending feedback is striking up a conversation with the smartest, wittiest, most attractive stranger in the room. Recommending is standing on the street corner shouting to myself about weasels. And I, as it happens, am much more comfortable in crazy-bag-lady mode. I mean, you all are invited, even encouraged, to stop, listen, and comment ("No, no. Everyone knows that ferrets are superior to weasels! And also, they are far sleeker!" Or, as it is known to those who, in a freaky timeline inversion thing, even now carry the scars: WeaselWank 2011.), and I'm delighted when you do (although I understand that 2011's going to be a tough year for comments), but I'm not expecting you to and I don't feel bad if you don't. Also, when I'm recommending, I don't feel like I have to be smart or impress anyone - random weasel-related blithering is perfectly fine. Whereas with feedback, I feel this horrible weight, this need to be as articulate and clever and all-around nifty as the person I am sending feedback to, which is obviously never going to happen. It makes me tense.)

So. Time progressed. I conquered a number of vid-related fears (accessophobia - fear of asking for vid site passwords, clickophobia - fear of sending feedback, oculomoronophobia - fear of looking like an idiot, divxphobia - fear of new codecs, etc.). I recommended some vids every now and again. And all was well.

Then, somewhere along the line, I discovered anime music videos, and oh my god the joy. Not only were they pretty and shiny and wondrous to behold, because live-action vids are that, too, but they were pretty much designed for people who didn't want to talk to other people. I didn't need to ask permission to rec. (And I actually couldn't send feedback to the creators, what with my intelligence not being up to the task of giving AMV opinions, which are in themselves quite the fine and demanding art.)

It was heaven. I recommended many anime vids and the occasional live-action vid, and there was happiness in the house of TFV.

And then one day quite recently I was talking with [livejournal.com profile] cupidsbow about the Issue of Recommending Vids. And she said (and I'm paraphrasing so severely that I might very well fuck up her point, so if you don't like it, that's probably my fault) that she'd never asked for permission when she recommended vids, and she didn't want to start, as she highly values the free flow of ideas and discussion and thinks permission requirements might inhibit that.

And I thought: Huh. (Yes, precisely like that. You see why I fear situations that require feats of linguistic virtuosity?) Because the thing is, I'd seen vidders link to other people's vids in a casual way. I'd seen recs swarm across my friends list even when I knew the vidder was unavailable to grant permission to rec. And I started wondering - is it different because I'm not a vidder? Is it different because I am a recommender? Or, hey, is it different? Do I actually need permission at all?

On LJ, my motto is: when in doubt, poll.

So I ran a poll asking vidders about vid permission and a poll asking vid watchers about vids in general. And what I learned was - well. Let's discuss.

First, as of this writing, 108 vidders have taken the vidder poll. Only 7% of them said it was necessary to ask permission before linking to a vid announcement. Even more significant, though, is that 51% of them - half! - had never even heard of this weird alien ritual of asking permission to link to a vid announcement. And 93 of the vidders - or just over 86% of them - gave blanket permission to rec or link to their vid announcements (provided people respected basic fannish manners - no hotlinking, no stealing, proper credit given, etc.).

So, no matter what was true two years ago (or what I thought was true two years ago, and such is the tragic nature of time and observers and all that physics whatnot that we will never know for sure which), what's true today is: a vid is a fanwork like any other fanwork, and you follow the same rules when recommending it as you would for recommending a story or a piece of art or whatever. With one major exception, that is: with stories, generally we link directly to the file. With vids, we link to the announcement page.

And that is really all there is to it. You, my friends, have the freedom to rec vids. In particular, you have the freedom to rec the vids of the 93 vidders who gave blanket permission. In general, you have the freedom to link any public vid announcement that doesn't say that you can't; in other words, permission to link is implied by the act of publicly announcing a vid, unless or until permission is specifically withdrawn, as long as you are linking within the general fannish community.

But some of you are probably wondering about the vidders who do think permission is necessary and didn't give blanket permission. You're in luck! I'm going to talk about them now. You folks who only wanted to know the general gist of the results should feel free to leave (and go rec something), but if you're curious about the Deeper Issues, stick around. There's poll analysis and thinkiness and potentially incorrect theories. Fun for the whole family except the sane members, is my point there.

Further vid meta that is so long and so boring that it is under a cut tag for your protection. Click only if you have permission from your doctor to read 20-year-old computer manuals and earnest screeds on economics from the 1920s. )
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
(I actually wrote this about two months ago, apparently; I was searching through my flash drives for a file that just does not seem to be anywhere at all when I discovered this. I didn't even remember that I'd finished it. But I had, and it's here, and I'm posting it. Why the heck not?

And let this be a lesson to you all: index your damn drives.)

The Vid Feedback Project was triggered by a number of posts, but most directly [livejournal.com profile] sdwolfpup's Vid Feedback 101. Read the essay - it's a good one - but the message I took away from it was:
  1. Vidders want feedback.

  2. They want this feedback even from non-vidding viewers.

  3. Any feedback that isn't overtly flame-filled or insane is welcome, including, "I liked this vid."

  4. Further comments, such as emotional reactions, are also welcome.
This was very interesting to me. I am a vid watcher - oh, am I ever a vid watcher - but the closest I'll ever come to vidding is coming up with a lot of terrible vid ideas. (Example: Tub-Thumping by Chumbawumba for Daniel Jackson of SG1. He gets knocked down! He gets up again! They're never gonna keep him down!) But the thing is - whether you're a FF writer or not, you probably have all the tools at hand to discuss someone else's story. Or, god, I hope you do. But we don't write visual media critiques in seventh grade, and we don't memorize the vocabulary, and we also don't have a lot of experience with group discussions about visual media, so we can't learn by seeing others do it. (Wait. Why am I speaking for everyone? That should be me and I. Sorry.)

But, you know, vidders give me a lot of pleasure. They've taught me about canons I could never imagine watching. They've hand-fed me fandoms in three-minutes pieces. They've made me laugh. They've made me get snuffly and blinky-eyed. (And, yes, they've also confused the shit out of me, on occasions too humiliatingly numerous to document here.) And I know vidding is a lot of work; all you have to do is read the LJ of someone who is currently Great with Vid, and you'll realize that. So, here are these people, doing this time-consuming, challenging, creative thing, and then sharing the results with me free of charge. Clearly, I owe something to vidders. But what? I can rec vids, and I have, but - I'm not terribly confident about my ability to judge vids objectively, so most of my recs sets are grouped around themes like "Approximately Three Thousand Vids Set to 'Holding out for a Hero'" and "Lots of Things Go Boom." And, anyway, vid recs are pretty much exclusively for the vid-watcher, as you'll know if you've ever tried to get someone's permission to rec her vid.

So, according to the posts I mentioned way, way up there, what vidders would like is feedback. My assumption prior to reading those posts was that vidders wanted intelligent feedback. (The first reaction I ever got to a vid comment contributed to that impression. The Guide to Giving Opinions at AMV, about which more later on, contributed much, much more.) But here were live action vidders claiming they'd be happy with even uninformed feedback.

The obvious question was: were they right? And I had it within my power to answer that question. I can write uninformed feedback. I so totally can. And if they truly don't care what kind of feedback they get, well, how hard is it to write "I liked it!" and click send? (As it turned out, pretty damn hard. But I anticipate.)

Excelsior! )
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
The Bunny Reports are mostly for my own reference; they're simply lists of things I'd love to see (in this case in vids) but will likely never do myself. I'm going to move them to one central location (hi, LiveJournal!) because I've got all these random scraps of paper around my computer, and it isn't pretty. It looks, in fact, like I'm making a nest here, like maybe I'm expecting my monitor to mate with my CPU and produce little baby Palm Pilots or something. Which I'm not. (Although if they want to, I am all for freedom of pleasure, and I promise to help with late-night programmings or whatever.)

Anyway. Even though right now they're quick-and-dirty, the lists are bound to be better-looking. Also less of a fire hazard.

I'm expecting each Bunny Report to be just the one post, irregularly updated. I haven't done that before, but we all know how wonderful I am with the irregular updating thing - I mean, I am the queen of not being even remotely consistent with the posting - so maybe it'll work. So you don't need to worry; this is the only time the Vid Bunny Report will ever come through on your friends list, no matter how much I add to it.

I'm not backdating or filtering* this original posting, though, because I'm hoping y'all can help me. If you cast your eyes over the list of cut-tags below, you'll notice one that reads, "I know it's here somewhere." Because there are some vids that have to have been made already, and somehow I just missed them. Maybe they came out while my connection was down or while I was in my holier-than-vidding phase or I've just got highly selective amnesia. Whatever. Point is, I'm like Mulder: I know they're out there. And I'm hoping someone can tell me where. So, while I don't imagine this is anyone's idea of pleasure reading, I will love you if you read it. And I can offer eternal worship to anyone who can help me find one of those damn vids.

Boring intro, because I feel I must. My advice is to skip this. )

I know it's here somewhere. )

Humorous, at least in theory. )

Inverted cliches. )

* Note: If this whole concept insanely pisses you off, maybe 'cause you hate other people's bunny lists, maybe 'cause you come here only for recs and you surely did not sign up for some crazy lady's rabbit thing to hit your friends list, let me know. I can backdate all the other ones, or I can post them normally but filter you out. I won't be offended, truly, even if it turns out everyone wants to be filtered; as I said, these lists are for me. And also the Fire Marshal, should he ever drop by.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
I'm about to ask an important question, maybe the critical question of fandom.

What is the slashiest fandom of them all?

Think you know? Tell me in the comments, and please provide examples.

Or read on, and I will tell you what provoked the question. Basically, it was the juxtaposition of two things: vids and a video game. Let's consider them in order, shall we?

See, I've been on a sort of vid-watching kick lately (in the same sense that the Trainspotting boys were on a sort of heroin kick). And one of my secret shames is an adoration of the "four minutes of the slashiest moments in this particular fandom" subgenre, aka the Slash Highlights vid; I love these, especially when I don't know the canon, which is most of the time. Jack pushes Daniel's glasses up his nose. Blair and Jim make breakfast together. Starsky and Hutch strip. Wesley feeds Angel from his arm. And my once-cold heart just melts. When I first started watching vids, these Slash Highlights ones astonished me. I kept thinking, did the creators know what they were doing? Did the actors come from some distant country that has no concept of personal space? And are those two guys just going to fuck right there on screen or what?

It was at this point that I encountered a bunch of Highlander Slash Highlights vids, and in particular this one scene where a short-haired guy (Methos?) walks into a room and sees or is introduced to a long-haired guy (Duncan?). And Methos checks him out. I mean, obviously, visibly, and with no other possible explanation for his actions, at least not that I can see. And then he smiles, and it is, in my considered opinion, an "Oh, yeah, I'm going to love fucking this guy" smile. It's the sort of scene that makes you turn to your Best Beloved, assuming your Best Beloved is watching the vid with you, and say, "Did I - did he - oh my god, did he?" To which your Best Beloved responds, through almost uncontrollable giggles, "Totally. Oh, God, totally. Gay! Gay! Gay!"

So I started wondering how many other fandoms have these moments, and which fandom has the most.

And then the Best Beloved and I got hold of Shadow Hearts: Covenant, a Playstation 2 game that easily takes the title Slashiest Video Game of All Time away from the previous title holder, which was the original Shadow Hearts game. In SH: C, you collect - seriously - gay porn to get a flaming tailor to make dresses for a doll. And you can see the gay porn, mind you, in the inventory screen. You have a party member who is a vampire professional wrestler who wears a butterfly mask and who is apparently conducting an intense UST-laden relationship with his teacher. You have character interactions that can only be described as "like the DCU, if all the writers got hit by pink kryptonite." Really, there's not a single hour of the game that isn't imbued with slashy slashiness. And that includes the slashiest cut scene I have ever beheld in all my born days, a scene so slashy that the BB and I have held on to the save right before it so we can watch it over and over, laughing like loons every time.

The cut scene partially explained, for the 2.5 people who will care about it. Minor spoiler warning, if anyone is actually planning to play this game. )

In short, Shadow Hearts: Covenant is the motherlode of slash. Surely, I thought when I first encountered it, surely there is no fandom as slashy as this game?

So I ask you: is there? If so, what is that fandom? And what makes it so insanely slashy? Tell me. Convince me. Make me clap my hands because I believe in fairies.

I'm hoping that this will help me do my 111th post. Because that post should be a celebration of this LJ's core values. (Slash. And fandom. Also, slash.)

-The Evidence: Vid Recs, Because, After All, This Is a Recs LJ-

Want to see some slashy moments in the flesh? I can't promise that these are the slashiest vids in their fandoms, but they do contain most of the scenes I mention above. And some others that are equally ohmygodtheirloveissoobvious.

Stargate, Jack/Daniel: "Let's Hear It," by Relic 1979, has Jack pushing up Daniel's glasses and a bunch more; you can download it from Relic's website.

Highlander, Methos/Duncan (I think): "Just Like You," by Luminosity, features the "I'm going to love fucking this guy" bit. You can find it at Luminosity's website.

Angel, Angel/Wes: "If It's Hurting You" contains the Wes-feeding-Angel scene, and "Completely Pleased" contains a whole bunch of other Angel/Wes-ishness. They're both by Charmax, and they can be found at Bronze Ambition.

Starsky and Hutch, Starsky/Hutch: "Mighty Fine," by Kassidy Rae, shows the guys stripping, together, happily, and at some length, for reasons best known to themselves. It can be downloaded from her website.

Multifandom: "Dirty World," by Diana Williams, has great slashy moments from a bunch of fandoms. You can download it at her website; that site only features her newest vids for downloading, though, so eventually you will have to order a hard copy to get this one.

Multifandom: "Wouldn't It Be Nice," by Laura Shapiro, features another cross-fandom parade of slash. To get the vid, you'll need to email Laura for the password to her website, so the link is for that.
thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
Today, in honor of fools of all kinds, I pay tribute to foolish questions. Without them, the internet would not be what it is today. (And for those of you who were wondering - yes, that's probably a bad thing.)

Note that this is just questions people are unlikely to ask - if you actually have a question, please see my User Info, where I'm more likely to give real answers to real questions. Or just email me or comment somewhere.

Infrequently Asked Questions )

Profile

thefourthvine: Two people fucking, rearview: sex is the universal fandom. (Default)
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