Keep Hoping Machine Running (
thefourthvine) wrote2005-01-21 12:48 am
Entry tags:
Rant: Enough Already
Life has been unkind to me and mine lately, which has driven me straight into the logophagic part of acquiring a very large new fandom. As always, it's making me testy. During these periods, I read an enormous number of stories, and I'm usually trying to back-engineer the canon, and, well, I'm not at my all-time most tolerant. Which, let's face it, is not really all that tolerant anyway. In short, it's time for another mean-spirited FF rant.
Lube. Lube is important. Crucial, even. I admire authors who take the time to lubricate their characters before anal sex. But there are some kinds of lube that are worse than none at all. In other words, please no more soap as lube ever ever ever. I mean, unless you want it to hurt like hell. (Shampoo is also out, folks. And do I need to explain why hair gel is a bad idea? Well, obviously I do, as I recently read a story involving just that thing, but surely most people understand that "sticky styling product" is not synonymous with "Astroglide," right?) Because, look - if you're going to make me curl up from flashes of sympathy pain, don't you want it to be deliberate? Helpful rule of thumb for lube: if you're gonna get creative, try it on yourself before you try it on your characters. (You're excused if you once had to deal with the aftermath of a friend grabbing the toothpaste instead of the spermicide, because, trust me, you see that once, you don't ever make that mistake yourself. In fact, you seriously consider labeling all your toiletries in Braille, on the off chance that a blind person ever wants to find lube in your bathroom and doesn't think to ask you.)
Cum. "Come." It's spelled "come," goddammit. And don't tell me it's confusing to have it spelled the same as an entirely different word. You speak English. You should be used to this. And if you can't tell from context whether it means "have an orgasm" or "move toward something," you don't speak the English language after all, so you're in no position to be making changes to it. Plus, if we never use "cum" to mean "semen" again, we'll never be confronted with the non-word "precum," which, in addition to being absolutely horrible, always makes me reach reflexively for my Latin-English dictionary. So know that when you spell it c-u-m you're giving some of us painful flashbacks to Latin classes so boring that, by the end of one of them, we could totally empathize with what it's like to be dead for two thousand years. (And by the end of four of them, we were envying Latin, which at least got to be used in orgies and stuff before it died. The best we got was slides, which I had never seen used as a teaching aid prior to this class.)
Per se. It is pronounced "per say." It is not written that way. Or purr say, or persey, or any of the other mutations your mind creates. Seriously. I suffered through two years of the aforementioned Latin class to learn facts like this. Make my childhood boredom worth something; use and spell your Latin phrases correctly. Or, hell, just leave them out altogether. I won't complain. (And you know, the worst part about the slides was that we almost never got to see them, because the teacher couldn't work anything that was manufactured after Diocletian died. When your career has reached the point where it takes three eleven-year-old girls to get your tie disentangled from a fucking slide projector, sir, it's time to find a new career. Or just stop showing slides. We all already know what the Coliseum looks like.)
Watch the cock. I know. You're thinking, wait, that's pretty much all slashers do, right? But I meant that you should be watching the cock's progress. If, the last time we heard tell of it, a given cock was slowly hardening, it should not be achingly hard one kiss later; it makes me highly suspicious of the cock's ability to stay the course. (Of course, if that's the point of your story, go you.) Likewise, if you're writing a detailed sex scene, try to have some actual sex in it. Too many stories these days go like this: 3 paragraphs of kissing, 4 paragraphs of increasingly intense groping and licking, 1 sentence of penetration, 1 sentence of mutual orgasm (which is generally blindingly incredible and often involves screaming), and then 4 paragraphs of afterglow. If that's happening in your story, you have a problem with pacing. Or your character has a problem with premature ejaculation, I suppose.
Akin to terror. What's related to terror? Fear, horror, dread, panic, and alarm, just to get you started. So if there's all these terms related to terror, why not use one of them? Don't just tell me that a given emotion is "akin to terror." Get specific! Either the character is terrified, in which case say so, or he's something else, in which case, hell, go crazy and tell me exactly what that is. Otherwise I'm forced to wonder about you - I mean, you know twenty-four synonyms for sexually aroused and not one for terror? Are you even from this planet?
Bruises. First: bruises are not sexy. They aren't. If you don't believe me, examine yourself the next time you have one. Second: it is easy to bruise someone's neck or breasts with your teeth. It's a lot, lot harder to bruise someone's hips with your fingers. Seriously. Dirty looks will occasionally bruise my Best Beloved, but does that mean I leave finger-shaped bruises every time we have sex? No. No, it does not, and that's because it's not easy to do. Nor is this whole bruising gig something that works for most pairings. (Yes, I'm sure Keller and Beecher bruise each other; for them, that's actually playing nice. But we love those guys 'cause they're not normal.) I think (I hope) writers sometimes use "bruise" to mean something else - pressing hard enough to turn the skin white, leaving the skin flushed and red when the pressure is lifted again. But some authors are definitely talking about real, actual bruising, and unless your characters have platelet disorders, it's just not that likely. Major exception: this is OK in Smallville, as long as it is Clark who is doing the bruising. Please, unless someone can explain to me why it makes sense ('cause, hey, no canon expert here), let's never again have stories in which Lex bruises Clark without benefit of kryptonite.
They don't like to watch. Here's a tip: straight men do not typically feel comfortable when their gay male friends have sex in their presence. They certainly don't carry on a conversation with whichever friend has his mouth free of encumbrance. But it's a sign of acceptance, you cry! The pairing guys are showing how comfortable they are with their new-found sexual identity, and the observers are showing their tolerance! Um. No. Because - let me put it this way. People, just in general, do not feel comfortable watching their friends get it on. (There's an exception here for certain straight men and their lesbian friends. A mildly irritating exception. Moving on.) It has nothing to do with tolerance and everything to do with, you know, boundaries and culture. Don't like that? Get off on an uninvolved, uninterested person watching? Make up a brand new culture or alien race, sister, because it won't work in a story set in modern America (and this is just a guess, but it probably won't work in most of the rest of the first world, either). And, for the record, most people are not comfortable being watched, either. Sex is not a spectator sport, for the very good reason that it looks stupid a lot of the time; let's leave the characters their dignity, shall we? I mean, unless you're deliberately taking it away, in which case, hey - go you.
Like a virgin. Or not. If you're painting a modern-day character over the age of - oh, I'll be generous and say 25 - as a virgin, unless that person is a nun or something I'm going to need a lot of back story. A fuckload, in fact. You want to say it's the first time Daniel Jackson has had sex with a man? I'm fine with that, willing to buy that, happy to go with it. If you're telling me that an encounter in a series-time story is the first time that Daniel has ever had sex, though, um - he was married. Among other subtle clues that he might have had sex at some point in his past. So come up with a brilliant explanation or surrender the virginity, please. And, really, what's so wonderful about losing one's virginity? I've done that. It wasn't, shall we say, pleasant. Now, partly that had to do with the circumstances, but it mostly had to do with the fact that it was my first time. I've gotten better at sex since then. Way, way better, and I mean in the enjoyment as well as the technique sense. And, really, I sort of like the characters to have the same advantage. So, look. If you want to write about virgins, write HP or pre-canon stories or something. I can believe in virginity in those cases, although I adore authors who write that first time as awkward, bad, and stupid as it often is. But please don't tell me that Blair Sandburg is a virgin at 28. Or Angel, who we saw have sex in canon back on Buffy, and who is three hundred years old. Or, god help us, Christopher Fucking Keller, who has earned that honorary middle name in a variety of ways. (And yes, I've read – well, skimmed parts of - stories making just that claim for all those guys.) First time in love? Fine for some characters. First time with the same sex? Fine with most characters. First time in a long time? Perfectly acceptable in many cases. First time, period? No. Please. No.
Think I missed something? Previous FF rants are here, here, and here.
Got some FF bitching to get off your chest? Share in the comments section. I like to know I'm not alone in my insanity.
Hate me and want to make sure I know it? Remember to flame with class.
Lube. Lube is important. Crucial, even. I admire authors who take the time to lubricate their characters before anal sex. But there are some kinds of lube that are worse than none at all. In other words, please no more soap as lube ever ever ever. I mean, unless you want it to hurt like hell. (Shampoo is also out, folks. And do I need to explain why hair gel is a bad idea? Well, obviously I do, as I recently read a story involving just that thing, but surely most people understand that "sticky styling product" is not synonymous with "Astroglide," right?) Because, look - if you're going to make me curl up from flashes of sympathy pain, don't you want it to be deliberate? Helpful rule of thumb for lube: if you're gonna get creative, try it on yourself before you try it on your characters. (You're excused if you once had to deal with the aftermath of a friend grabbing the toothpaste instead of the spermicide, because, trust me, you see that once, you don't ever make that mistake yourself. In fact, you seriously consider labeling all your toiletries in Braille, on the off chance that a blind person ever wants to find lube in your bathroom and doesn't think to ask you.)
Cum. "Come." It's spelled "come," goddammit. And don't tell me it's confusing to have it spelled the same as an entirely different word. You speak English. You should be used to this. And if you can't tell from context whether it means "have an orgasm" or "move toward something," you don't speak the English language after all, so you're in no position to be making changes to it. Plus, if we never use "cum" to mean "semen" again, we'll never be confronted with the non-word "precum," which, in addition to being absolutely horrible, always makes me reach reflexively for my Latin-English dictionary. So know that when you spell it c-u-m you're giving some of us painful flashbacks to Latin classes so boring that, by the end of one of them, we could totally empathize with what it's like to be dead for two thousand years. (And by the end of four of them, we were envying Latin, which at least got to be used in orgies and stuff before it died. The best we got was slides, which I had never seen used as a teaching aid prior to this class.)
Per se. It is pronounced "per say." It is not written that way. Or purr say, or persey, or any of the other mutations your mind creates. Seriously. I suffered through two years of the aforementioned Latin class to learn facts like this. Make my childhood boredom worth something; use and spell your Latin phrases correctly. Or, hell, just leave them out altogether. I won't complain. (And you know, the worst part about the slides was that we almost never got to see them, because the teacher couldn't work anything that was manufactured after Diocletian died. When your career has reached the point where it takes three eleven-year-old girls to get your tie disentangled from a fucking slide projector, sir, it's time to find a new career. Or just stop showing slides. We all already know what the Coliseum looks like.)
Watch the cock. I know. You're thinking, wait, that's pretty much all slashers do, right? But I meant that you should be watching the cock's progress. If, the last time we heard tell of it, a given cock was slowly hardening, it should not be achingly hard one kiss later; it makes me highly suspicious of the cock's ability to stay the course. (Of course, if that's the point of your story, go you.) Likewise, if you're writing a detailed sex scene, try to have some actual sex in it. Too many stories these days go like this: 3 paragraphs of kissing, 4 paragraphs of increasingly intense groping and licking, 1 sentence of penetration, 1 sentence of mutual orgasm (which is generally blindingly incredible and often involves screaming), and then 4 paragraphs of afterglow. If that's happening in your story, you have a problem with pacing. Or your character has a problem with premature ejaculation, I suppose.
Akin to terror. What's related to terror? Fear, horror, dread, panic, and alarm, just to get you started. So if there's all these terms related to terror, why not use one of them? Don't just tell me that a given emotion is "akin to terror." Get specific! Either the character is terrified, in which case say so, or he's something else, in which case, hell, go crazy and tell me exactly what that is. Otherwise I'm forced to wonder about you - I mean, you know twenty-four synonyms for sexually aroused and not one for terror? Are you even from this planet?
Bruises. First: bruises are not sexy. They aren't. If you don't believe me, examine yourself the next time you have one. Second: it is easy to bruise someone's neck or breasts with your teeth. It's a lot, lot harder to bruise someone's hips with your fingers. Seriously. Dirty looks will occasionally bruise my Best Beloved, but does that mean I leave finger-shaped bruises every time we have sex? No. No, it does not, and that's because it's not easy to do. Nor is this whole bruising gig something that works for most pairings. (Yes, I'm sure Keller and Beecher bruise each other; for them, that's actually playing nice. But we love those guys 'cause they're not normal.) I think (I hope) writers sometimes use "bruise" to mean something else - pressing hard enough to turn the skin white, leaving the skin flushed and red when the pressure is lifted again. But some authors are definitely talking about real, actual bruising, and unless your characters have platelet disorders, it's just not that likely. Major exception: this is OK in Smallville, as long as it is Clark who is doing the bruising. Please, unless someone can explain to me why it makes sense ('cause, hey, no canon expert here), let's never again have stories in which Lex bruises Clark without benefit of kryptonite.
They don't like to watch. Here's a tip: straight men do not typically feel comfortable when their gay male friends have sex in their presence. They certainly don't carry on a conversation with whichever friend has his mouth free of encumbrance. But it's a sign of acceptance, you cry! The pairing guys are showing how comfortable they are with their new-found sexual identity, and the observers are showing their tolerance! Um. No. Because - let me put it this way. People, just in general, do not feel comfortable watching their friends get it on. (There's an exception here for certain straight men and their lesbian friends. A mildly irritating exception. Moving on.) It has nothing to do with tolerance and everything to do with, you know, boundaries and culture. Don't like that? Get off on an uninvolved, uninterested person watching? Make up a brand new culture or alien race, sister, because it won't work in a story set in modern America (and this is just a guess, but it probably won't work in most of the rest of the first world, either). And, for the record, most people are not comfortable being watched, either. Sex is not a spectator sport, for the very good reason that it looks stupid a lot of the time; let's leave the characters their dignity, shall we? I mean, unless you're deliberately taking it away, in which case, hey - go you.
Like a virgin. Or not. If you're painting a modern-day character over the age of - oh, I'll be generous and say 25 - as a virgin, unless that person is a nun or something I'm going to need a lot of back story. A fuckload, in fact. You want to say it's the first time Daniel Jackson has had sex with a man? I'm fine with that, willing to buy that, happy to go with it. If you're telling me that an encounter in a series-time story is the first time that Daniel has ever had sex, though, um - he was married. Among other subtle clues that he might have had sex at some point in his past. So come up with a brilliant explanation or surrender the virginity, please. And, really, what's so wonderful about losing one's virginity? I've done that. It wasn't, shall we say, pleasant. Now, partly that had to do with the circumstances, but it mostly had to do with the fact that it was my first time. I've gotten better at sex since then. Way, way better, and I mean in the enjoyment as well as the technique sense. And, really, I sort of like the characters to have the same advantage. So, look. If you want to write about virgins, write HP or pre-canon stories or something. I can believe in virginity in those cases, although I adore authors who write that first time as awkward, bad, and stupid as it often is. But please don't tell me that Blair Sandburg is a virgin at 28. Or Angel, who we saw have sex in canon back on Buffy, and who is three hundred years old. Or, god help us, Christopher Fucking Keller, who has earned that honorary middle name in a variety of ways. (And yes, I've read – well, skimmed parts of - stories making just that claim for all those guys.) First time in love? Fine for some characters. First time with the same sex? Fine with most characters. First time in a long time? Perfectly acceptable in many cases. First time, period? No. Please. No.
Think I missed something? Previous FF rants are here, here, and here.
Got some FF bitching to get off your chest? Share in the comments section. I like to know I'm not alone in my insanity.
Hate me and want to make sure I know it? Remember to flame with class.

no subject
Fuck yes. Soap is an irritant anyway, and not necessarily something you'd want to apply to the delicate interior of any major orifice. But add friction, and the micro-tears friction causes, and ow ow ow.
I actually used to wonder if writers used soap as lube in anal sex out of some misguided idea that it would render the ass clean and shiny, somehow taking the shit factor out of anal sex. But now I'm pretty sure it's just misguidedness, a sort of "slippery = lube" thing.
I think I recall reading about shoepolish being used at one point.
Oh my god. Not the worst I've ever heard, but close. Disturbingly close.
Angel? Like. Angel? Angelus? Uh. Darla, Dru, possibly Spike, Buffy and Eve Angel? ...What show are those people watching?
The Virgin Angel Show? I hear it's very popular in Japan.
Seriously, though, I think the author I read who portrayed Angel as a virgin was unaware that he'd had a significant chunk of time before the soul curse. (I'm basing this on internal evidence in the story.) Which raises the question of why you'd write in a fandom when you're ignorant of the most basic canon facts, but I suspect said question is effectively unanswerable.
I do love the story in which Duncan MacLeod is a 400-virgin though. Or Methos, the 5000 year old virgin who was married, like, 88 times, but, you know, it´s not like he ever had sex during that time.
Hee. That's fabulous. But, no, it makes perfect sense! After all, they only invented sex in 1969, right? Before that new people came from parthenogenesis and schizogenesis. So it makes perfect sense that Methos would've been married all those times but only just now getting around to fondling and sucking, let alone inserting Tab A into, well, anything. Assuming that old time people had sex just because they were married - that's, like, revisionism! And historically inaccurate! And just plain icky!
Per se - Random note: In Norwegian it´s pronounced pretty much the way it´s written.
Ooo, interesting. So - because to me there's not a single obvious way to say it that matches the spelling, presumably because I don't know thing one about Norwegian pronunciation - is that with 'se' said like the e in see (http://www.m-w.com/cgi-bin/dictionary?book=Dictionary&va=see)? (The linked page has a sound file, because I don't know if that's pronounced differently by Norwegians as well.) Or is it more like in set (http://www.m-w.com/cgi-bin/dictionary?book=Dictionary&va=set)?
And do you happen to know how long per se has been in common use in Norwegian?
This is, obviously, way more fascinating to me than it should be.
Cum - *looks embarrassed* I was actually starting to almost believe that was the official term for it. It didn´t seem right, mind you, but neither does a whole lot English words.
You don't have to be embarrassed. English is not your first language, right? So you get an automatic out. Especially with stuff like this, because porn words probably aren't covered in detail in English classes, and you probably did, you know, gossip and so on in Norwegian. (And you should totally complain to your dictionaries' publishers, because there should so be obscene words in those.)
Like the use of either-or, neither-nor which seems to vary a lot depending on the author.
Do you mean the verb used with either-or and neither-nor? Or do you mean the actual use of either-or v. neither-nor? Because the former comes under the simple close agreement rules. And the latter is generally a matter of style or choice, as long as you keep the pairs together.
They´re amusing with that special hint of "if I ever get my hands on this author, I will not be responsible for my actions".
Um. Yeah. That's the mood I have to be in to post a rant. So I guess I'm communicating well, then. My parents, teachers, and therapists would be so proud.
no subject
Ooo, interesting. So - because to me there's not a single obvious way to say it that matches the spelling, presumably because I don't know thing one about Norwegian pronunciation - is that with 'se' said like the e in see? (The linked page has a sound file, because I don't know if that's pronounced differently by Norwegians as well.) Or is it more like in set?
Um, more like "set", except you pull on the e a little, drag the word out. I´m not saying it´s the correct way to pronounce it, because frankly, I have no idea, but it´s the way it is pronounced. *grins*
And do you happen to know how long per se has been in common use in Norwegian?
I have no clue. Since the country was christened? No, I don´t really know. It´s not like it gets an enormous amount of use.
And the latter is generally a matter of style or choice, as long as you keep the pairs together.
Yeah, see, that´s what confused me -- I thought that with neither you had to have nor, but I´ve seen it used "neither-or" a lot, so.
My beliefs in English grammar fades quickly when faced with a mass of writers who do differently, over a period of time. *wry*
(And you should totally complain to your dictionaries' publishers, because there should so be obscene words in those.)
*grins!* I know. Must write letter emphasising the Norwegian people´s right to learn how to read English porn, especially slash. Possibly include helpful list of possible terms for the next edition.
no subject
Well, see, that's exactly what's so interesting. Because when you first said that, I double-checked my Latin pronunciation, and was like, yeah, it is pronounced per say. But then I remembered that we don't actually know what Latin sounded like; the "rules" are made up of good guesses and convenience. So maybe Norwegian speakers who learn Latin learn totally different pronunciation rules; why not? They might as well go with what makes intuitive sense to them.
Of course, it's probably just that the phrase isn't used very often by Norwegians, so instead of getting spelled the way it's said (what I was bitching about English speakers doing), it's getting said the way it's spelled (or the way a Norwegian speaker would assume something spelled that way was said.)
So, yeah, too much thought going into this at this time. Sorry. Will go find some smut to take my mind off this.
Yeah, see, that´s what confused me -- I thought that with neither you had to have nor, but I´ve seen it used "neither-or" a lot, so.
Neither-or is always wrong, and so is either-nor. Always. Isn't it nice that there's at least one thing in English that just is that straightforward?
My beliefs in English grammar fades quickly when faced with a mass of writers who do differently, over a period of time.
Hey, no. Lose your faith in the writers and keep faith in the grammar. Although actually you should probably lose faith in both. There's a fairly good reason so many people write English really, really badly; what we call grammar is really an inherently contradictory mass of suggestions.
Plus, you're online, which means you're seeing English as written by Americans, Australians and NZers, and UK folk, and grammar isn't the same for those three groups. So even if everyone was doing everything absolutely correctly - and we aren't - it would still look contradictory and weird to you.
Must write letter emphasising the Norwegian people´s right to learn how to read English porn, especially slash. Possibly include helpful list of possible terms for the next edition.
Totally. Because, seriously, if a person is going to go to all the trouble of learning English, doesn't said person deserve some nice porn as a reward? And it's win-win for the publishers, because once people discover all the fun things you can find in English, well, who wouldn't buy an Unabridged Complete with Porn Terms Dictionary?
Perhaps it could also come with a helpful DVD.
Wait, no. Don't suggest that last part.
no subject
Now I'm curious. What is the worst you've ever heard of? I haven't heard anything worse than Fabric Softner, but I'm sure something's out there....