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where I've been, updated 2014

Jacked from wabbit:

visited 41 states (82%)

Actually, I'm not sure whether I've been through Iowa and South Carolina - I might have done.  If so, they made little enough impression that I probably shouldn't count them anyway.
I usually giggle at memes, but don't perpetuate them.  But this one has produced some hysterically funny results on friends' journals, so I'm giving it another round here.  Go wild.

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now (even if we don't speak often or ever) please post a comment with a completely made up, fictional memory of you and me.

It can be anything you want - good or bad - but it has to be fake.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph in your LJ and see what your friends "remember".

a meme is a terrible thing to waste

I'm not much into memes, but this one from John Scalzi's blog was irresistible:

1. Open the book you’re currently reading to page 133.

2. Read the fourth line on the page.

3. Put the book back where it had been resting.

4. Tell no one of what it was you just did.

5. Think of five friends to tag with this meme.

6. Do not actually tag them. They are busy and have lives.

7. Go about your life as if nothing has happened.

8. Carry the secret of this meme to your grave.



 Had to share this amazing icon!  Freshly stolen off of this user in Photobucket.

Movie Meme II (kluged from Lothithil)

Instead of actually carrying on the meme, I’m going to violate protocol and re-meme at you!  Hope you find it worth passing on.

Name a movie that you really wish would be re-made so they’d get it right.

Name a book you’d like to see made into a movie.

Name a book you hope is never made into a movie, because they’d ruin it.

Name a stage show (musical or not) you hope is never made into a movie, because they’d ruin it; or that you wish had never been made into a movie, because they did ruin it! 

How often do you watch movies at home, as opposed to in the theatre?  (The other half of the original question!)

How many movies do you own?

How many TV shows (shows and/or number of seasons)?

Any other DVD watchables that are neither movies nor TV shows?

How often do you re-watch DVDs?

What’s your video equivalent of comfort food?

Have you ever read a book because the movie was really good?

Have you ever read a book because the movie was really bad?

Have you ever refused to see a movie because the book was really good? Really bad? 

Name a book that was made into a good movie, especially if you didn't think it could be done.

Name a movie that you’d like to see re-made with your Dream Cast, and some key members of that cast. 

shush . . .

I don't  use this LJ account much . . . I prefer personal contact for keeping in touch with friends, and I've never been much for journal-keeping anyway.

That said, I do value LJ, especially as a means to stay in touch with some long-distance friends; and my alternate account has proved a fun (and cheap) forum for geeky visual humour.  And I'm not charmed by the recent developments since the ownership change.  There but for fortune . . .

Accordingly, I have decided to honour Silent Friday.  In terms of this account, that's not saying much; I'll be demonstrating active neglect instead of passive neglect.  But I will be doing so deliberately.

For more information, should others be even less informed than I on the subject:



The Two Whatevers

Essential to anyone who ever intends to have their own business -- especially if it's going to have anything to do with creativity:


And just plain worth reading, even though I had no idea SFWA was having a bad election year:


The Old Issue (in honour of Veterans' Day)

“Here is nothing new nor aught unproven,” say the Trumpets;
“Many feet have worn it and the road is old indeed.
It is the King – the King we schooled aforetime!”

(Trumpets in the marshes round the eyot at Runnymede!)

“Here is neither haste, nor hate, nor anger,” peal the Trumpets,
“Pardon for his penitence or pity for his fall,
It is the King!” – inexorable Trumpets –

(Trumpets round the scaffold at the dawning by Whitehall.)

“He hath veiled the Crown and hid the Sceptre,” warn the Trumpets,
“He hath changed the fashion of the lies that cloak his will.
Hard die the Kings – ah, hard – dooms hard!” declare the Trumpets,

(Trumpets at the gang-plank where the brawling troop-decks fill . . .)

Ancient and Unteachable, abide – abide the Trumpets!
Once again the Trumpets, for the shuddering ground-swell brings
Clamour over ocean of the harsh, pursuing Trumpets –
Trumpets of the Vanguard that have sworn no truce with Kings!

All we have of freedom, all we use or know –
This our fathers bought for us long and long ago.

Ancient Right unnoticed as the breath we draw –
Leave to live by no man’s leave, underneath the Law –

Lance and torch and tumult, steel and grey-goose wing,
Wrenched it, inch and ell and all, slowly from the King,

Till our fathers ‘stablished, after bloody years,
How our King is one with us, first among his peers.

So they bought us freedom – not at little cost –
Wherefore must we watch the King, lest our gain be lost.

Over all things certain, this is sure indeed,
Suffer not the old King: for we know the breed.

Give no ear to bondsmen bidding us endure,
Whining, “He is weak and far,” crying, “Time shall cure.”

(Time himself is witness, till the battle joins;
Deeper strikes the rottenness in the people’s loins.)

Give no heed to bondsmen masking war with peace,
Suffer not the old King here or overseas.

They that beg us barter – wait his yielding mood –
Pledge the years we hold in trust – pawn our brothers’ blood –

Howso great their clamour, whatso’er their claim,
Suffer not the old King under any name!

Here is naught unproven – here is naught to learn.
It is written what shall pass if the King return:

He shall mark our goings, question whence we came,
Set his guards about us, all in Freedom’s name;

He shall break his judges if they cross his word;
He shall rule above the Law calling on the Lord –

He shall peep and mutter; and the night shall bring
Watchers ‘neath our windows, lest we mock the King.

Hate and all divisions, hosts of hurrying spies;
Money poured in secret, carrion breeding flies –

Strangers of his counsel, hirelings of his pay,
These shall deal our Justice: sell – deny – delay.

We shall drink dishonour, we shall eat abuse,
For the land we cherish – for the tongue we use;

We shall take our station, dirt beneath his feet,
While his hired captains jeer us in the street.

Cruel in the shadow, crafty in the sun,
Far beyond his borders shall his teachings run,

Sloven, sullen, savage, secret, uncontrolled,
Laying on a new land evil of the old,

Long-forgotten bondage, dwarfing heart and brain –
All our fathers died to loose he shall bind again.

Here is naught at venture, random or untrue –
Swings the wheel full-circle, brims the cup anew.

Here is naught unproven, here is nothing hid:
Step for step and word for word – so the old Kings did.

Step by step and word by word: who is ruled may read.
Suffer not the old King, for we know the breed –

All the right they promise – all the wrong they bring.

Stewards of the Judgment, suffer not this King!

-- Rudyard Kipling
9 October 1899