| Happy Birthay to Me |
[May. 31st, 2012|01:57 pm] |
Since today is my birthday and I am so broke that any money we have will buy gas for the car, not to mention I'm still not over this lingering cold, I decided that dammit I will celebrate here on my blog and have the stuff I want for free without risk of anyone catching this crap.
( Now, what's first? Oh, I know... )
I also found out today that I share a birthday with some great writers, like Walt Whitman and others.
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| Spoiler-free thinking about where Bujold could go with the VORKOSIGAN universe |
[May. 31st, 2012|01:36 pm] |
I think there's a general consensus CRYOBURN is the weakest Vorkosigan novel Bujold has written. Maybe not the most flawed -- personally, I count ETHAN OF ATHOS as more flawed -- but certainly the weakest Vorkosigan novel, and possibly the weakest book, period. (And it's still readable -- the "worst" of an excellent bunch may still be objectively okay.) And that this is partially because she ran out of stories she wanted to tell about Miles before she stopped telling stories about Miles. And that CAPTAIN VORPATRIL'S ALLIANCE might well be pretty darned good, because she might well still have stories she wants to tell about Ivan.
In a friend's LJ, people were thinking about this, and it was observed that, in the Vorkosiverse, "having kids" means "no longer being the protagonist." Oh, you still have a life, you still have adventures -- Count Admiral Viceroy Aral Vorkosigan and Countess Captain Vicerine Cordelia Naismith Vorkosigan certainly didn't stop doing stuff once Miles was born, but, for purposes of the novels, they became "Miles's parents" -- supporting characters. Ekaterin is something of an exception, having come into the story with a kid in tow, but, once she has her NEW batch of kids, she's backgrounded. Therefore, by Vorkosiverse rules, Miles shouldn't have been protagonist-ing during CRYOBURN. Miles and Ekaterin ought to have become background characters during the last chapter of DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY, the way Cordelia and Aral did during the last chapter of BARRYAR. Ekaterin is, but Miles doesn't become backgrounded until the last chapter and epilogue of CRYOBURN, which is among the reasons the book doesn't work.
Incidentally -- as far as I can see it, Admiral Quinn is the only person in-universe whose noticed this rule . . . Quinn could still carry a book, but Elana and Baz Jessek-Bothari stopped having that option when THEY had kids. . . Kareen and Mark could be protagonists, until and unless they decide to breed . . . Ivan's still available to be a protagonist, because he's spent his whole adult life screwing around rather than settling down.
The story that Lis wants to see, though, is the Barraryan Kel, from Tamora Pierce's FIRST TEST/PAGE/SQUIRE/LADY KNIGHT quadrology.
I can only think of three all-male militaries in the Vorkosigan universe. Athos, obviously, but that almost doesn't count. Cetaganda. And Barryar. And the Barryaran situation is REALLY not at all stable -- not when at least a third of the Barryaran Empire is already egalitarian. No Komarran woman is going to understand why she can't join the Imperial Service Academy. Including, for instance, Empress Laissa. . .
Some time soon, a girl from Komarr, or maybe from Sergyar -- or, for that matter, on Barryar itself, is going to want to enter the Emperor's Service. What's going to happen then? Who's that girl going to be?
THAT'S the story that Lis wants to read.
Of course, one of the other problems with the Vorkosiverse is that we're so far beyond it. I mean, the United States is already closer to Beta Colony than to Barryar. Western Europe, closer still.
And as far as technology goes, I think that the comconsole I'm currently typing on is at least as powerful and versatile as the ones Miles Vorkosigan uses. That's a ubiquitous problem along all science fiction worlds created more than, oh, ten or fifteen years ago, though . . . I mean, it's not merely that my communicator is more powerful than Kirk's, it's that, if someone WANTED to, we could make one that's more powerful than Picard's . . . |
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| Leadership: a minor rant |
[May. 30th, 2012|12:41 pm] |
(Disclaimer: My MA is from a school called the Leadership Institute of Seattle)
Leadership is not the singular definition that is thought of in the vernacular (like so many other things in that context... my rant on Mental Illnesses that have been brought in with little to no understanding of what they actually are is a whole different rant).
Leadership can be many many different things:
- Sharing a dream that others can get behind.
- Showing faith in the people around you
- Giving an encouraging smile when a friend or co-worker is struggling
- Listening
- Holding your hand out and saying "Let's do this together"
- Making informed decisions when they effect others.
Leadership is not:
- Pulling people along when they don't share your dream
- Telling people what they are going to do
- Overshadowing the people around you
- Thinking you have the answers for others
- Using your assumptions rather than listening to others
- Saying "Follow me, I know what I am doing!" |
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| Even though I slept pretty well . . . |
[May. 30th, 2012|08:34 am] |
I slept pretty well. But I DREAMED that I slept poorly. So I had a lot of trouble getting up.
In my dream, I was running a roleplaying game for a bunch of people, many of whom hadn't done tabletop RPGs before. It was at Neil Patrick Harris's house, and Nathan Fillion was there, who, it turned out, was a pretty experienced gamer himself (this may be based on reality -- I seem to remember some story of Fillion dropping into a pickup Firefly game at a con, and playing Wash. Apparently, the person playing Mal was kind of intimidated, but Fillion was really having fun with it, and got the person playing Mal to relax and have fun with it). I think Wil Wheaton was there, but that might be just because how could he not be? Or maybe Neil Patrick Harris was partially Wil Wheaton. Which would be kind of weird, but, still, a half Wil Wheaton half NPH person would be a pretty cool person to hang out with, anyway.
The kitchen cabinets were two stories tall, and filled with donuts, crullers, and other pastries.
Anyway, I was supposed to leave pretty early, because I had to go to Brandeis to meet ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2) greenlily, I think, and it would be a two and a half hour walk. And I was running late, and there was no way I'd have made it, so I went up to Superman and asked if he could just give me a lift, because he could fly me there in just a few seconds. So he said he would, but, what people don't know about Superman is that he actually is a practical joker, but only to a couple of people, like Jimmy Olsen, and, sadly, me, so, instead of flying me to Brandeis, he put me into time stasis until four AM. When I realized what he'd done, I was kind of pissed, and told him that he'd better have at least told Jess that I wasn't coming so she wouldn't worry, and he said that he had, but that he'd made up some sort of really embarrassing story about why I wasn't there, because he was a jerk.
Okay, fine, it was kind of funny, in a really jerky kind of way.
Anyway, NPH, who was possibly Wil Wheaton, or maybe my cousin Kim, was either still up, or had just been getting up, and it turned out that one of his dogs had died the week before, but he hadn't talked about it, so we talked about how much it sucks when a pet dies.
Some other stuff happened, too.
So, in the dream, I'd been doing all sorts of social stuff, then put into stasis, then had lots of emotionally draining conversations with people until the wee hours of the morning -- and, as far as my body was concerned, the several hours of stasis counted as "being awake" time, or, at best, that kind of nap that does more harm than good, so I was EXHAUSTED.
And then I woke up, after having slept soundly all night, and was exhausted. |
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| I've got your next Illuminati-Steampunk plot bunny RIGHT HERE. . . |
[May. 29th, 2012|09:59 pm] |
Available, for fiction or roleplaying, one historical plot bunny.
1797: James Tilly Matthews is locked up in Bedlam for interrupting debate in the House of Commons by yelling "TREASON" at Lord Liverpool, from the gallery. When examined, he explains that he HAD been involved in secret affairs of state, but that he was betrayed by Prime Minister William Pitt.
But the danger was what he'd uncovered on his earlier fact-finding and diplomatic mission to France. He'd gotten to know several of the anti-Monarchist Girondist politicians when he was there, which is presumably how he'd found out about the real danger -- the sinister "Air Loom", used by the French revolutionaries behind the Terror.
The "Air Loom" is an enormous piece of machinery, with kegs of various gasses containing psychoactive chemicals (the word didn't exist at the time, so I'm using it anachronistically, but it's the best description of what he was talking about). These gasses were derived from various noxious substances, ranging from bad breath to horse farts, but the point was that these psychoactive gasses were magnetically charged, then directed to blow at specific people.
And one was set up secretly in London. It could affect people in various theaters, coffee houses, and the like, places that these revolutionaries had infiltrated, and set up their contraption.
The magnetized gasses could have several effects. "Kiteing" was the basic one -- it was a way of implanting an obsessive thought into a person, one that just wouldn't go away no matter how hard the victim tried. A more subtle effect was "Thought-making", in which the victim's train of thought was simply sucked away and replaced with another that the Loom gang created.
And, indeed, the Air Loom could even be used for direct damage, through "Lobster-cracking", which was just as horrible as it sounded: by increasing the magnetism in the air around the victim, he could be literally crushed to death.
Images of a reproduction, and more historical information, are at this website. The Wikipedia entry on James Tilly MAtthews also has good information.
It is the first example of the kind of "Influencing Machine" Brooke Gladstone is talking about in her graphic novel about the media, which is where I heard of it.
So, there you are. A French-revolution era mad scientist mind control device, run by the secret society behind The Terror, and bent on destroying Great Britain by controlling her leaders. If THAT doesn't get your creative juices flowing, what would? |
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| Organic milk. From a farm. |
[May. 29th, 2012|08:48 pm] |
So, Lis and I have decided to try to do menu planning and shopping ahead of time and that sort of thing. And, as long as we were planning out shopping, we figured, why not go to one of the farms near where she works to pick up milk and eggs? It's not that much more expensive than the stuff at the supermarket, and her work is close enough by to make it plausible, so why not?
I've not had any of the eggs yet, but the milk is downright addictive. |
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