Life in my household:
Hyena: You didn't like the book because all the protagonist cared about was social status and money. You have more in common with Seanan McGuire's Inuit therianthope who can't stop talking about "carnage".
Dementia: Well... Yeah!
Just got home from five hours of conversation (and a bit of food) with my niece Jessi Lee. REALLY good times. She is up from Texas for MidWest FurFest, sort of. I haven't seen her in more than a decade, far too long.
Some writers are good enough at present tense narrative that they can be forgiven for the choice, but it will always and forever be a thing for which one must be forgiven. (Second person narrative, on the other hand, is always and forever unforgivable.)
I have NEVER unfriended a human being (I have dumped a few bots, once I realized what they were), but I am thinking it might be time to start. There are a few people out there who show up only rarely, and are invariably a negative presence when they do comment.
The other day, Dementia made a comment about tigers melting into butter, and it took a bit of dredging through my cranial sewer before I located the reference, and I said, "Now, THAT is a children's story that is gone forever." And that made me a little sad, because while the story is incredibly jingoistic and racist in its trappings, the story at its heart is sweet and charming.
Except... The story isn't gone forever; far from it. You can buy a copy from Amazon or from Walmart. There is even an updated version with the names and illustrations modified to reflect the story's original Indian setting.
Truly, the world is a strange place.
Gig Harbor, Washington, is a town on Pudget Sound, near Tacoma. It is about 2000 miles from Waukegan, and is the home of Gig Harbor Boat Works, the people who made the strange three piece oars on my canoe, so I have a fondness for the place.
Today I got a message from an acquaintance, someone I only hear from occasionally. When I met him he lived locally; subsequently he moved to central Wisconsin, and now he has come to roost in... Gig Harbor, Washington. Gig Harbor has a population of about 7000, which is to say that about one out of every 50,000 people in the US lives there. And now I know one of them.
I should not really be charmed by such a pointless improbability, but I am.
Home repair done in tight spaces while wearing surgical gloves and associated hazmat gear IS NOT FUN.
Apparently NetFlix is near release on a movie called "Bright", which is pretty much a Shadowrun story. Will Smith is the heavyweight name, but Noomi Rapace is apparently playing a moderately psychotic elf. Sounds like a good time. (But that still doesn't mean I will forgive the stupid shoes.)
One of the more irritating foibles of English is the lack of differentiation between the concepts of "pride" and "vanity". They are often viewed as near-synonyms when they really should be seen as opposite ends of a single spectrum. Most positive human behavior contains an element of pride, and most negative human behavior contains an element of vanity.
Every now and then, I think about having a tee shirt made that says, "Norwegian Sled Dog." I don't, because almost no one would get the reference, and a lot of those who DID would be offended, and a lot of them would also worry about my level of depression, so I never have. But there are some days when I just wish I could wear the shirt anyway, mostly for the, "Huh?" factor.
(The reference is to polar explorer Roald Amundsen, who realized that on long journeys sled dogs stopped being assets and became liabilities as soon as their packs were empty, but that if you ATE the dogs at that point, they turned back into assets. Amundsen was ambitious, aggressive, and utterly lacking in sentimentality.)
Life in my household:
Dementia: If you went around to the right, as I do, you wouldn't track water onto the floor.
Hyena: Yes, but you are morally superior to me.
Dementia: I'm really not.
Hyena: No, you aren't. Most days, I am all that stands between you and sociopathy.
Hyena: I have never understood people who find re-heated Chinese food edible.
Dementia: I have been know to reheat fortune cookies.
Hyena (after a pause): Fortune cookies are served at room temperature.
Dementia (after another pause): Egg rolls. I mean egg rolls.
Dementia: They're the same color!
Went to the theater yesterday (and saw "The Man Who Invented Christmas", which was very good, and the better you know the source material, the better it is), and asked the concessionaire if she was going to be able to escape before the "Star Wars" storm started at 7:00 PM. She said that she was, and then asked if Dementia and I intended to be part of the storm. I shook my head. "We'll probably see it about the first of February," I said. "I'm completely indifferent to the idea of being 'spoiled', and my passion for 'Star Wars' died when 'Jedi' came out in 1983."
Every time I set up something experimental in my networking studies, just before I hit the "Go" button, I hear the voice of Kurt Lortz saying, "There's one way to find out!"
(The late, great Kurt Lortz was a brilliant game master, once upon a long ago.)