tinhuviel: (ELO)
I’ve been doing some hardcore servicing on my computer.  The keyboard and touch pad were starting to act up shortly before the trip to Los Angeles.  A few days after I got back to San Diego, the computer flew al to hell.  So I’ve been working on it; thus, my delay in relaying the rest of the Los Angeles story.  I think everything is sorted, now, so onward and upward!

I'll only be posting a fraction of the images I took whilst in LA, but you can click this pic to access all of them, if you wish.  Also, the original size pics are only a click away from the pics I posted here, so get that mouse to moving!

Our only two forays into Touristville was our trip to the La Brea Tar Pits museum (the Mother Unit and I went to the pits last year, but did not go into the museum.).  I don't think I've ever been in the presence of so many bones and fossils.  It was awesome.


Then Andy needed to go to the Harley store to get his sister-in-law a shot glass that said Los Angeles on it, so we found ourselves battling the cast of thousands on the streets, who oblivious to nothing but the stars embedded in the sidewalk, and legendary locales like Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.  I stayed in the car while Andy ran his Harley errand.  I would only have slowed him down, and the clock was beginning to tick by then.

After escaping the tourist traps, it was off to House of Pies.  This is a great hang-out place, and my biggest regret is not actually getting a piece of actual flipping pie from there!  There’s always a next time, and a slice of blueberry cheesecake with my name on it, trust me.



Now, I was under the impression we were meeting only Paul, because Richard was in Las Vegas.  When I got a text on the way to the restaurant informing us that we were on for 3 PM, I thought it was Paul.  Andy and I got there a little early to get us a booth and, shortly thereafter, Paul showed up.  I was taken aback a little, because I had forgotten he’d shaved, so I was expecting the furry edition of the beleaguered Jack Cucchiaio.  We gleefully chatted for a few minutes and Paul and Andy got acquainted, when Richard Gale showed up, which surprised the fuck out of me.  I figured we wouldn’t have a chance to meet him, because he was out of town, and all.  He even brought me a Ginosaji spoon, which is the last thing I expected, because I contributed without requesting any perks.  The perk for me is to see this film come to fruition.  If I had my way, the people with the real talent, in my opinion, which is the only one that matters, would have endless funds for their projects, frighteningly organised promotional work, everything they need at their fingertips, and 100% creative control of their own work.  It was the only way to change the music business, which we’ve seen on almost every level, and I believe that’s how it’s going to end up in what we still call “Hollywood.”  Anyone with any shred of talent, and imagination, and a Tribe that will back them up no matter what will eventually own the world. Jeff Lynne found that out initially at Hyde Park.  He’s still being shocked by it all.  It couldn’t happen to a better person, except people like Barry Andrews and Richard Gale.

The Spoon of the Ginosaji has found a place of honour next to my baby dancing Groot.  Behold the oddest couple in fandom!

Our early dinner lasted longer than expected.  We talked movies, film-making, music, and general tomfoolery until it almost ran Paul and Richard late.  I thanked them for being two of about ten people on this planet to make me genuinely happy and laugh since 2011.  That means more than most everyone can possibly realise.

Richard introduced Andy to the wonders of Uber, which saved our butts as far as getting to the Hollywood Bowl in time, we took an awesome picture, courtesy of the kind cashier at House of Pies, and reluctantly parted ways, promising to do it again soon.

Both Paul and Richard are funny, talented, delightful souls, filled with stories about what it’s like to live and work in Los Angeles.  It was deeply insightful, none of which I’m sharing here, because I haven’t asked permission to share, and there are some things that just shouldn’t be public without the consent of the persons to whom it happened.

I will say that the Ginosaji movie is progressing nicely and is beginning to live up to its description as epic on a level that’s hard to imagine.  Impressed doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about the project.  I can’t wait for it to all be a reality.

Before heading back to the apartment, Andy wanted to go get the tee with the space cat invaders, so we hied down to the shop to find it.  Whilst there, I found a shirt that was so anti-this trip, I knew I had to have it.  I’m not one to buy frivolous stuff for myself, but I knew this would always conjure the memory of the grooviest birthday I’ve had so far whilst incarcerated in this current veil of tears, and it was only $10, so I took my chances, in more ways than one.  They only had the one shirt, and it was a woman’s medium.  Since I’m still having problems figuring out what can and can’t fit me, I decided to go for it anyway.  Luckily, it fit perfectly, so I wore it with my galaxy pants, because you can’t go to an ELO concert without having the cosmos nearby for their spaceship to have a place along which to triumphantly coast.

Jumping into our Uber with a tad of time to spare (we would have been woefully late, had it not been for Richard’s suggestion.  Thank you for that!), Andy and I were on our way to what I believed would be a defining Life Moment, and Andy was keen on a concert at the Hollywood Bowl.  He specifically said that he wasn’t tingly like I probably was.*  Since I tend to try to keep my emotions in check, my tingle factor was definitely present, but I did my level best to keep it together as we hunted for our seats, which was relatively.  The folks who work at the Hollywood Bowl are quite courteous and helpful.  They’ll also read you the riot act and not give you entrance if you have a camera that even vaguely looks professional.  Mine does not, but I didn’t want to take the chance of losing my camera, so I took my iPhone, which has a very good camera, so I wasn’t too very lower-lippy about leaving the camera at Brian’s apartment.

Andy’s phone had very little charge and he was responsible for the Uber ride back from Hollywood Bowl, so it was up to me to get as many decent pictures as I possibly could.  I even managed to get part of All Over the World, which was personally important, since it was Xanadu that officially introduced me to the Electric Light Orchestra.



The concert began with the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra, conducted by unspeakably cool Thomas Wilkins, playing pieces from English composers, like the lush Nimrod by Edward Elgar, which thrilled Andy no end, considering it’s one of his favourite pieces and and he can play it on organ.  I wish I had that kind of talent.

Being raised on various Classical composers (like Antonín Dvorak and Johann Strauss) along with the Beatles, the Carpenters, and early Electronica like Popcorn by Hot Butter, I was eating the opening act by the orchestra up like a thirsty dude in the desert who just found a water fountain.

When Jeff Lynne and his band finally took the stage, it was nothing short of a religious experience, especially since the opening song was Tightrope, which is one of the closest songs you’ll ever get Jeff Lynne to being cynical.  Even then, it turns out in the end.  Yes, I admit, I got teary.

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All of the songs the band played were their classics, and they were played with precisions.  The only exception was the single release from the new album, Alone in the Universe, When I Was a Boy.  Despite his hearing the new album prior to the concert, Andy was very deeply impressed with Jeff Lynne’s autobiographical opus.

After the concert, I said on Facebook, “No words.”  Honestly, I’m still having problems putting into words the experience I had at the ELO concert.  It turned me into Ellie Arroway, no doubt about it.

I had a suspicion he might do All over the World, but knew there was no hope for Xanadu or the title track from Eldorado.  Jeff just doesn't consider Xanadu to be his best work, and Eldorado is just too obscure for your "basic fan", whatever that means.

There was one song that brought me by surprise, and that was Wild West Hero, which they did with the a cappella in tact.  I thought I was taping that portion of the concert but, unfortunately, I screwed that up big time.  Wild West Hero is my second favourite ELO song, specifically because of the a cappella portion of the piece.  You can hear the breath, albeit very slightly and you need headphones, in between each phrase in the song.  It makes it real.  It makes it human.  It makes it breathtakingly beautiful.  Anyone interested in seeing the concert, along with this exceptional performance, you need only click the embedded video here, with the masterpiece in question beginning at 50:30:

As Richard and I had discussed earlier, the subtly of sound makes all the difference in anything, be it music or film.  If you can’t appreciate that, you’re losing a completely vital portion of your creative process.  Unless it’s a silent film or sommat, then you have to be living in the 20s or be Mel Brooks!

I must freely admit that it was during this song that I lost my shit.  I never expected to hear Wild West Hero live.  Ever.  EVER.  EVER EVER EVER. And that harks back to my initial statement that you never know what’s going to happen in this crazy existence.  Ten years, I never expected to be in England meeting one of my heroes.  Ten years later, I never expected to be in the presence of my first ever hero singing a song that only hardcore fans know by heart and audiophiles need a cigarette after hearing it.

Just as I’d heard from concert goers from previous concerts, there were moments Jeff would forget the lyrics.  None of that mattered, though.  The audience, most of us who had already forgotten what we had for breakfast that day (except for me and the Popeye’s Breakfast I’m craving like crazy right now), filled in the blanks for him.  Besides, it showed that Jeff Lynne is human and aging along with his fans, both older hardcore fans, and his new generation.  It shouldn’t be held against him for interchanging the occasional lyric the man wrote 40 years ago.  We should all just be lucky he’s willing to get up there and sing it live for us, when none of us expected to ever see him on stage again, especially not in this capacity.

His typical banter in between songs was “Thank you so much,” with his thumbs in the air.  This wasn’t surprising, coming from a man who said four words after being cornered in a studio back in 1979, that made me fall in love with him.  He was ambushed by an interviewer who asked why the band were named “Electric Light Orchrstra.”  Jeff’s reply, short, sweet, to the point, was, “Uhm...well… why not?” Right then and there, I wanted to be an eccentric recluse.  Got my wish. Haha!  What surprised me was that, even after all the concerts he’s done since Hyde Park, and the worshipful reception he’s gotten every single place he’s played, he’s still shocked and humbled that so many of us are there for him, singing with him, celebrating his life like he never expected it would be.

Paul saw the band at their lowest point in 1986.  I wish he could have been there to see how drastically times have changed that ebb in their career, and see how the band was always supposed to be seen live.  Even though always called Electric Light Orchestra, the orchestral part would still be lost to the electric instrumentation, despite the sound department doing the best they could with what they had to work with at the time.  Technology has finally caught up with Jeff Lynne’s vision, and we who never got to see the orchestra during their supposed heyday, got to see and experience something that is unique and miraculous to our times.  We got to see ELO the way Jeff Lynne always envisioned it.  There were live bands, then there were bands whose light shone brightest in the studio.  What Jeff Lynne finally got to do was bring his fans into his studio and let us see, at least in part, what he sees in his mind when making the music we so adore.

Prior to the concert, Andy asked me what I thought their opener and encore would be.  Getting it completely wrong, I suggested Last Train to London and Mr. Blue Sky.  As mentioned above, Tightrope opened and the perfect marriage of Rock and Classic closed us out with Roll over Beethoven along with perfectly-timed fireworks.

It took us a while to get out of the area, and it was such a relief to get back to the apartment and just lie there, basking in the glory I just had the honour of experiencing.  Even though I was exhausted, I didn’t sleep the entire night.  My inner vision was too filled with astronomical imagery, and my inner song was pure harmony.  I figured I wouldn’t sleep the night of the concert, so I had it in my head to do all the laundry and perform any other duties to ensure Brian’s apartment was exactly as he had left it, or at least as close to that as possible.  The problem was, I didn’t know where the washer and dryer were and couldn’t find them.  Texting Brian, I revealed my intentions, but he would have none of it.  So I limited my restoration to cleaning everything I could, and triple-checking everything I could think of…  I haven't heard any complaints, so I'm hoping we left Brian's uber-groovy pad just as fabulicious as it was when we arrived.

*I would like to note that, by the end of the concert, Andy admitted to being more than a little tingly.  HA!

tinhuviel: (Torquemada)

I haven’t done one of these in about 10,000 years, so let’s get this show on the road.



This is all true. photo 1264091_10153348891685721_288267917_o.jpg1. Full name: Tracy Angelina Evans
2. Nicknames: Tin, Tinhuviel, George, Darth Shriek
3. Birthplace: Asheville, North Carolina USA
4. Birthday: 10 September, 1967
5. Where Do You Live Now?: San Diego, California
6. Parent(s): Father Unit has passed.  Mother Unit is here in San Diego.
7. Sibling(s): ZERO
8. Looks: Better off invisible.
9. Favourite Animal(s): Anything non-human, except for millipedes and centipedes.  Like humans, they can go fuck themselves.
10. Favorite TV Show(s): Impractical Jokers, Better Call Saul



11. Favorite Kind(s) Of Music: Most everything but Country and Opera.
12. Favorite Movie(s): Sci-Fi, Unusual, Conceptual, Foreign
13. School: Some college, focusing on English and Veterinary Assistance
14. Future School: I’m too old for this question. The Chapel Perilous

15. Future Job: Testing new, effective sleep aids.
16. Boyfriend/Girlfriend: nah
17. Best Buds: I’m a bit of a hermit these days.
18. Favorite Candy: Milk Dud
19. Hobbies: Music, reading, writing
20. Things You Collect: Grudges, CDs, movies, moments in time.



21. Do You Have A Personal Phone Line: Yes
22. Favorite Body Part Of The Opposite Sex? The eyes and brain
23. Any Tattoos And Where Of What?: Red & Black Triskele on right hand, Green Shriekback logo on left hand, Mwanza Flat-headed Agama with green and blue hues instead of pinkish and blue.
24. Piercing(s) And Where?: not anymore
25. What Do You Sleep in?: clothing
26. Do you like Chain Letters: aw HELL NAW.
27. Best Advice: Reality is peripheral.
28. Favorite Quotes: Hope for the best, expect the worst. - Mel Brooks.
29. Non-sport Activity You Enjoy: sleep
30. Dream Car: A transporter



31. Favorite Thing To Do In Spring: Avoid the sun.
32. What’s Your Bedtime: Whenever I’m lucky.
33. Where Do You Shop: Wherever I can.
34. Coke or Pepsi: Cheerwine

35. Favorite Thing(s) To Wear?: Something loose that will allow me to blend into my surroundings.
36. Favorite Subject(s) In School: English and Creative Writing

37. Favorite Color(s): Green, Red, Black
38. Favorite People To Talk To Online: People with brains and a wicked sense of humour that has set them on the road to Hell.

39. Root-Beer or Dr. Pepper? Root beer

40. Do You Shave? I’m too old for that bullshit.




41. Favorite Vacation Spot(s): I don’t do vacations.  My favourite place to BE is England.
42. Favorite Family Member(s): Smidgen
43. Did You Eat Paint Chips When You Were a Kid? WHAT?
44. Favorite CD you own: Currently Without Real String or Fish by Shriekback
45. The ONE Person Who You Hate The Most: Going with an old standard here and saying Pat Robertson.
46. Favorite Food(s)?: Potatoes
47. Who Is The Hottest Guy or Girl In The World?: I have a very short list.
48. What Is Your Favorite Salad Dressing?: Bleu Cheese.
49. When You Die, Do You Wanna Be Buried or Burned Into Ashes? I don’t care, as long as I end up on Craggy Dome.
50. Do You Believe In Aliens?: Absolutely.








51. If You Had The Chance To Professionally Do Something, What would You Do? I’m already a Professional Misanthropist.
52. Things You Obsess Over: Various artists, ideas, philosophies, theories, general weirdness
53. Favorite Day of the Week: Don’t bloody care.
54. An Authority Figure You Hate: The Feudal Mistress still tops the list.
55. Favorite Disney Movie: Bambi
56. What Is Your Favorite Season? Winter
57. What Toppings Do You Like On Your pizza? Cheese, with extra cheese, and cheese on the side.
58. Do You Like Your School Food Itself (As In The District Food): I never ate it.
59. If You Could Live Anywhere, Where Would You Live? Avebury, Wiltshire, UK
60. Favorite Thing(s) To Do On Weekends: Sleep, if I can accomplish it.







61. Favorite Magazine(s): Don’t have one.
62. Favorite Flower(s): White rose

63. Favorite Number(s): 5

64. Favorite Ice Cream flavor(s): Ben & Jerry’s Wavy Gravy

65. What Kind of Guys/Girls Are You Attracted to?: Dangerously intelligent, beautiful, talented, and hilarious.

66. What’s Your Most Embarrassing Moment? I inadvertently introduced myself to someone as his wife.

67. If You Could Change One Thing About Yourself What Would It be? I would be fearless.

68. Do You Eat Breakfast First Then Brush Your Teeth or Brush first ten eat breakfast: breakfast first.

69. Favorite Time of Day: Whenever I get to sleep.

70. Can A Guy and Girl Be Just “Best Friends?”: Why not?



71. Do You Ask The Girl/Guy Out Or Do You Wait For Them To Come To You?: I don’t go there anymore.

72. Do You Mind Paying For Sex? I never would.

73. What’s The Most Important thing In Someone’s Personality: Sentience

74. Do you have a pager or cell phone? Cell

75. Favorite Sport: Flambodious Butt-walking

76. What Was the Best Gift You Ever Received? Love

77. How Long Did This Letter Take You To Finish?: Not very long.

78. What Did You Listen To While Completing It?: Electric Light Orchestra’s Alone in the Universe.

79. Are you or would you like to be married in the near future (next 5 years)? NEGATIVE

80. Don’t u just hate how psychics never win the lottery? I hate it more than I don’t win the lottery. I hate psychics, especially the ones who claim to talk to your dead relatives.  They’re grifters who should be drawn and quartered.  The End.

The End

Dec. 31st, 2015 08:44 pm
tinhuviel: (Darth Geek)

And so we have arrived at the threshold of yet another year, four cycles after the long hoped for Alpaca Lips.  In some ways, it has been an eventful year and, in others, things have barely changed.  I figured I'd touch on the highlights of 2015, then throw some hopes (gasp, hope?  Tin?  NOOOOOO!) out for 2016.  So, let's begin.

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The first major thing that happened in 2015 came in February, when I was allowed unprecedented liberties to continue and expand my campaign to disseminate All Things Shriekback.  I was elated, for I had watched for too long their greatness be swallowed up by the ever-expanding Internet, without the proper tools in my box of toys to make enough digital noise to be noticed.  That changed prior to the release of one of their best albums to date, Without Real String or Fish.  To my immense joy, this was only one of many releases by the band that I got to relentlessly plug throughout the year.  It's been an honour to do what I could for the guys, and I will continue to do what I do until they tell me to stop!

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In April, another wonderful thing occurred:  I got to go up to Los Angeles to attend Jeff Lynne's Hollywood Walk of Fame star ceremony.  Even though I didn't get to meet him - again! - I was still thrilled to be in the general vicinity of my spiritual and musical godfather, and listen to him talk a little about his career and how honoured he felt to be getting the praise and attention that has long been due the man.  He's a genius, and I am overjoyed that people are finally catching on to this fact.  It also heartens me that so many Millennials, particularly in the music world, are embracing Mr. Lynne and his music.  That means that his legacy will live on through the generations, as long as humanity plagues this world.  It almost makes me glad we're all still around.  Anyway, also in attendance to the star ceremony, making speeches of their own about how groovy Jeff Lynne is, were Tom Petty and Joe Walsh.  I caught this epic photo before the brouhaha began.   

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And it got even better later in the year, in November, when Jeff Lynne released Alone in the Universe, the first official ELO album since the release of Zoom in 2001.  I'm currently listening to it for the first time but, hey! better late than never, right?  2015 was the year both Shriekback and the Electric Light Orchestra gave the world new music.  If for no other reason, this year should be marked as a complete success because of this.

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Shortly before I moved out to San Diego, my TV died.  For a while, I was pretty miserable, until I got used to watching streaming formats online, like Netflix.  It cut down on my viewing habits considerably, and I found myself focusing on just the movies and shows I personally found important and worthy enough to spend my time watching.  Beginning in late 2014, though, my number one go-to place for instant entertainment gratification became You Tube.  I discovered Alonzo LeroneGarret John, and a host of other talents, visionaries, and creatives.  In June of 2015, though, I stumbled upon a short film that completely blew my mind. It's what made me realise how grateful I am to no longer have a television. I probably would have never discovered such brilliance had I still been enslaved to the mediocrity that spews out of the boob tube.

When I first saw The Horribly Slow Murderer with the Extremely Inefficient Weapon, I had a reaction eerily similar to what I had upon seeing The Joker Blogs' Therapy Begins.  I couldn't get enough!  Impressed didn't even begin to cover it.  The more I watched it and the related films on Richard Gale's You Tube channel, the more I laughed.  As anyone who has known me since losing Aunt Tudi in 2011 knows, laughter is something I treasure above all other things.  I credit anything that could cut through the grief and trigger laughter as holding a seed of the miraculous within its heart.  The Impractical Jokers were the first to make what I thought was impossible happen.  The Horrible Slow Murderer carried on that life-saving tradition.  

I was so impressed with the undeniable talent in this short film and others on the channel, like the wholly unfunny and horrifying Criticized, I was compelled to learn more about the film maker and his posse.  Employing the web search skills I learned in the Pit oh so very long ago, it didn't take me long to learn a good bit about the director and actors Paul Clemens and Brian Rohan.  

Well, one thing led to another, and I ended up helping them with their Kickstarter campaign, after having the pleasure of discussing a few promo ideas with Richard one Sunday a few months ago.  During this time, I've come to see that not only are these guys uber-talented, but they are also genuine, groovy, insightful, kind individuals.  How could anyone not want to help people like this in any way they can?

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While all this was happening, I was going to the doctor about my back pain, which seemed to be getting worse despite all attempts to reverse the issues causing it.  The doc finally suggested that I look into getting an panniculectomy.  Now, in South Carolina, no insurance, private or public, would cover anything considered cosmetic.  When I got the gastric bypass surgery, I went into it with no pipe dreams of getting any excess skin removed.  It was never an option, so I never entertained the idea.

When the doctor brought up the panniculectomy, I silently scoffed, but decided "what the hell?  It doesn't hurt to ask."  So, a couple of days later, I called Aetna and asked them if such a surgery were covered.  They informed me that, if it were considered medically necessary, they would cover it, and all I would have to pay would be $264.00.  I called the doctor, who referred me to Dr. Jason Hess.  He took pictures, informed me that he'd gotten approval for surgeries with less severe pannus issues, and said he'd be asking approval for not just a panniculectomy, but also an abdominoplasty which, combined, are basically the human equivalent to being cleaned like a fish.

In two weeks time, Aetna gave the go ahead, and I had a tummy tuck and panniculectomy in September.  I'm still recovering from it, but my back does feel better after no longer having to deal with 17 pounds of dead weight constantly pulling on my lower lumbar region.  Also, for the first time in my life, I actually have a figure.  I'm still not used to the new body.  It's like living in an alien biological construct.

So, 2015 saw me become a bit of a California stereotype in that I got plastic surgery and began "hobnobbing" with Hollywood directors and actors.  Folks, don't expect that, if you're thinking of planning on moving to California.  Bear in mind that I live in the Twilight Zone and have no idea how shit like this happens to me.

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One more cool thing that happened this year actually happened this month.  After over a year of struggling with it, I finally had a breakthrough in my arduous Wacom education.  I still have a very long way to go before I consider anything I do with the tablet worthy of pride, but at least I'm finally seeing results from what I have so far learned.  This is the result - the best representation of how I see Cadmus Pariah in my mind's eye.  I plan on making this a full body picture, not just a floating head of death, but I thought I should make note that my obvious learning disability when it comes to digital art has at long last had a wee chink taken out of its seemingly impenetrable wall.

There have been some unhappy things to happen this year - conflicts with Matt, friends falling prey to illness, seriously fucked up news on the family front, among other things - but I am choosing not to focus on that in this year-end post.  There is nothing I could write here that would change any of these things, and I frankly don't want to give the bad areas of 2015 any more power than they already have.  I would prefer to give energy to more positive outcomes in those categories in the coming year. 

That being said, here are some things I'm hoping to see happen and/or make happen in 2016.

  • Friends and family beat the odds and kick all manner of ass with some insane Health Fu.
  • The Presidential election does not turn out to be a disaster of mega-Fascist proportions.
  • People collectively reject the status quo and embrace a higher vibrational state of being.
  • There is full disclosure on extraterrestrial life and activities, as well as extra-dimensional life and activities.
  • Jeff Lynne plays a concert in San Diego and I get to attend.
  • I can eventually feel as comfortable riding the buses in San Diego as I was riding the ones in Los Angeles. LA makes a lot more sense as far as layout is concerned.  Or maybe that's just me.
  • Yoga becomes a part of my everyday life.
  • Barry Andrews has more delightful written and musical works of art in store for the world.
  • I complete my latest book and maybe even publish it.
  • The filming of Ginosaji goes smoothly and is a low-stress joy for all involved.
  • I get to go to the desert to gaze at the Milky Way at least once in 2016.
  • I and those I love are surrounded by non-toxic individuals and that we can continue to expand the influence of beauty, creativity, common sense, and divine madness.
  • The Alpaca Lips finally happens.

Here's hoping everyone has a fantastic new year.  May it be visionary in every way.

tinhuviel: (Doomsday Clock)

If you've been a longtime Tribe-member here on the Journal of Live, you are well-aware of how I sometimes get a little enthusiastic about the oddest things.  Like Darth Maul, Tim Roth, Shriekback(can I get a whoop-whoop here?), and the Joker in both his Dark Knight incarnation and, in particular, Scott McClure's interpretation of him in The Joker Blogs.  I'm not satisfied to just hop on a generic bandwagon and be a regular fan of things and people, no no!  I have to leap onto Radio Flyer-level wagons, dragging as many people as possible with me, until it becomes a Wagon Train-level event that would make Zane Grey get misty-eyed.  I love a lot of things, but there are those tiny few that become more than just the object of an OCD fan's love.  They become a cause, to which I dedicate time, money, evangelism, sanity, and people's patience with my hooliganism. Why do I do this?  I have no idea.  I don't know what the trigger is that makes something or someone I love and enjoy transform into something I need in my life, and must insert into the lives of others, its importance so monumental that some folks will humour me just to be left in peace for a little while.  For now, though, let's not fret about the motivation behind my causes, and focus on one of two causes that are currently overworking my manipura to the point of spontaneous human combustion. I want to talk about one of the few things that has brought a level of joy in my life that I never thought I'd experience again, since 2011.  I'm talking about this movie short and the delightful individuals who created it.

Since seeing it for the first time a few months ago, I'm fairly certain I could quote the entire film from memory. The only movies to occupy that unconditional passion are most of Mel Brooks' films and John K's Ren & Stimpy.

Being the daft poster child for OCD, I had to learn everything I could about the people behind this masterpiece. The more I learned, the more I genuinely liked them. They seem like really groovy souls who deeply grok the dark humour so often associated with Generation X. I admit without hesitation that I covet their talent. Who wouldn't? So there were rumours, and rumours within rumours, that Richard Gale was planning on making the actual movie with the actors reprising their roles in the film short. Just a couple of months after I first saw The Horribly Slow Murderer with the Extremely Inefficient Weapon, the rumours were put to rest when the crew launched their Kickstarter. They need $200,000 to make this film a reality, and they even have Jeffrey Combs, a name any self-respecting Horror/Sci-Fi fan should instantly recognise, on board to be in the flick. Serious cred there, yo!

But I'm rambling, so I'll just get down to the "bwass tacks". If you like horror and comedy, please contribute to this worthy Kickstarter. If you are hardcore in your appreciation of Absurdism, please contribute to this worthy Kickstarter. If you need something in your life that will never fail to bring a smile to your face, please contribute to this worthy Kickstarter. If you like to help people who are not only insanely talented, but also equally decent individuals, create something without having to surrender their vision, ethics, or artistic control to others who don't understand the importance of such things, and care only about getting richer, please contribute to this worthy Kickstarter. And last but not least, and directed primarily to my fellow Tribesfolk, many of whom would just wish I'd shut the fuck up already: If you want to be responsible for bringing a little happiness into my life, when you know that the very notion of a smile is hard to imagine since 2011, please contribute to this worthy Kickstarter. Humour is a holistic healer of sprained spirits, so you would be helping my spirit strengthen its reinforcements by contributing in the making of Ginosaji.

Below is Richard Gale's project pitch. Beneath that is an image link to the crew's Kickstarter campaign page, where you can pledge fundage to the cause. Financially, everyone is having a less than stellar time of it, but even a dollar will make a difference here, so please do what you can. They have tons of perks for people who are able to reach deep or were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, so bear that in mind, too. Even if you're too broke to spend the night or pay attention, you can still help. If you have any experience in filmmaking or skills generally associated with the craft, you can contact Richard Gale via the Kickstarter page and see if your talents meet his needs. Also, spread the word! This is a public post and I encourage you to share it with all your homies in the world, and ask that they do the same. The more people know about this, the more likely it will be the filmmakers will reach their goal by 3 November! The only perk I can personally offer you is my promise to try to tone down my tenacity regarding Ginosaji: The Horribly Slow Murderer with the Extremely Inefficient Weapon, so you won't feel too terribly hounded as you have been in the past, with causes like The Joker Blogs and Shriekback. So, let's get this show on the road, shall we?



Now, click this spoontastic picture to help bring more happiness to the world.
Everyone could definitely use more of that and less of what we're getting, wouldn't you agree?
spoonstarter.png

I really hope y'all enjoy the film short enough to want to get involved in some way. Also, I would like to apologise ahead of time for my incessant cheerleading about this new cause. You've been with me for years and had to put up with virtual pom-pom fuzz all over your computer monitor more than anyone should be forced to tolerate, so it heartens me that you're still around after all this time. And should you get put out with my constant glomping, try to look on the bright side: I could have developed an unhealthy fascination with the Shiri-me instead of the Ginosaji, and who wants to listen to someone go on and on about a Japanese ghost whose name translates into English as "eyeball butt?"

I bet you feel better already, now don't you?

tinhuviel: (Shriekback Logo)

The band have posted an hour-long interview, answering fans' questions. Take a gander, and don't forget to pick up a copy of Without Real String or Fish.

tinhuviel: (Cadmus Ink)

Yesterday, Barry Andrews uploaded a new blog entry on the Shriekback Tumblr. It's a great read, obviously, but I saw a lot of what he wrote could also apply to other musicians, artists, writers, dancers - basically anyone who produces creative content. Over the years, I've come across artists who work in all creative mediums who say they were influenced and/or inspired by Shriek music. I was especially pleased to read two particular statements in the narrative.

Barry wrote:



Shriekback has long enjoyed a cordial, if intermittent, rapport with the film business. The reason is not hard to discern: we do seem to be good at creating ‘atmosphere’. Evoking feelings; establishing a mood. I’ve no idea why this comes so easily but it does. Music can sidestep the conscious, critical mind and make emotions happen in a way that visual media have to work a lot harder to do.


Later on in the blog entry, he wrote:

It’s always a nice moment when you get an email asking to use a piece of Shriekback music in a film: firstly it means you get paid without doing anything (though you always seem to have to chase the money- doubtless for some film biz related reason). And also there’s an implied compliment in that someone saw something in your work which they felt would enhance their own.


Of course, I had to share the entry to my Vampire Relics Facebook page, adding my own opinion about the nature of creative expression.  Here was my take as the writer of The Vampire Relics:


So what do you think? Do you think Shriekback's treatise on the nature film-making and its relationship with music is a valid perspective? Do you believe how what he says could apply to any creative effort? If you have opinions and/or insights regarding this, please share them. Also, if you have drawn, written, painted, filmed, photographed, recorded, built, or made something that came into existence because of Shriekback's influence on your imagination, I'd love to see it. If you do share something with me, be sure to let me know if I can pass it on to Barry because, as quoted above, he considers such activity to be "an implied compliment in that someone saw something in your work which they felt would enhance their own."

tinhuviel: (Landon Dunlevy)
This is why I believe the use of music by the Greys in 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind' is entirely feasible, and actually quite likely. Scientists contend the language of the universe if mathematics. I don't think they're wrong, but I believe the eternal beauty and wonder that communicates life forms into being may possibly be a much easier way for species to connect. They're two sides of the same coin. Where math is somewhat exclusive (I can barely add 2 + 2 ~ does that mean I won't ever have an encounter with visitors from another world?), music touches everyone. Sound and rhythm is the voice of the multiverse, and the heartbeat of creation.
tinhuviel: (Richard Ayoade)
Given my arguable success in the proliferation of All Things Shriek, Barry Andrews, and his latest mini-project, ANAXATON6, one would think that I'm some kind of expert, but I'm not.

Everything I learned about promotions, I learned by observing the BMG branches across the country, and what they'd get up to in getting the word of a new album by an established artist, or a debut album by a relatively unknown talent. The department I worked in was Point of Purchase, which was responsible for getting in-store play CDs to stores and radio stations, as well as sending promotional tchatchkes like posters, flats, press kits, even frisbees at one point.

All this really came in handy when I encountered the Shrieks for real and true, and began doing what my branch friends were used to doing all that time. Plus, I was able to give advice about promotions, when it was asked for, or when I thought it prudent. It was all a very educational experience.

During this time, I learned that I was actually pretty good at the proliferation of truly deserving talent. I even extended whatever I could offer to Scott McClure of The Joker Blogs fame, working diligently with some other wonderfully talented souls to bring to the world who should be the next Joker, if there is a god.

But I've come to realise that I suck like a pissed-off black hole at promoting myself. I try my damnedest, but I don't think it's every really good enough. I'm one of those people who hangs her head and looks furtively about for the nearest exit, just in case I have to dash out, wailing with horror at the very thought to trying to tell another person why they should read my books.

I think that's one of the reasons I am genuinely fond of Richard Ayoade. He's great in his acting roles, and at panel shows, which showcase his perfect deadpan humour. But, if you ask him about his own work, like the movie Submarine, he starts with the nervous head-scratching (which is adorable, given the unruly, beautiful mess that it is) and the constant eyeglass adjusting. Plus, he has problems making eye contact, which makes most of his pictures look kind of like he's waiting for the aliens to land at any moment.

So, it's not that he's just an absolutely beautiful man, his honest shyness and self-deprecation are traits I relate to on an extremely profound level. I empathise with him, especially right now, when The Augury of Gideon is close to being published.

What would be ideal would be for RA to promote my book, and I could promote his movies, shows, and writing credits. That would be in some perfect world in which I shall sadly never live.

Flogging one's own work just seems so ego-centric. I think that's what distresses me most. I'm not one to hoot and holler about whatever talents I think I have. I'm gratified that some people see some potential in me, just as a bevy of individuals consider Ayoade a brilliant individual. I guess I'm more of a "here's something I hope you like. If you do, please say so in public, that'd be great" kind of person. And that's what I see in Richard Ayoade, and what endears him to me so much, not to mention he's the bastard child of Prince and Urkel.

I kid you not.

 photo princeayoade.png



The more nervous he gets, the more he scratches his head and adjusts his glasses. He's like an textbook case of self-consciousness. I don't see how he does it, really. If I had to go before a camera and talk about The Vampire Relics, I'd be shot off into space for the benefit and protection of the entire human race. Anyway, I need any advice that anyone can give me on how to plug my wares without dying from embarressment. I'd ask Richard, but I have no way to do so, so that's pretty much out of the question.

What I'd really love to do is ask Richard Ayoade how he psyches himself out for interviews and movie promotions at film festivals. The problem with this is I'm sure I'd do two things: wrap around him like an alien face hugger, and hang my head in shyness for even being around him in the first place. I imagine he'd talk to the walls or out the window, and I'd be overly verbose with the floor.

Gads. How can someone overcome being a hang-dog when it comes to their own creations, when they can be so enthusiastic about others'? I JUST DON'T GET IT. If I could only be a fraction as enthusiastic about my own work, as I am Barry Andrews', I may already have a movie deal ~ in a parallel universe.
tinhuviel: (Maul)
There was a time in movie history when an extreme shift occurred, thanks namely to George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. In 1977 Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind were released. This, combined with Star Trek playing in syndication at the same time, triggered the coming of age of Geekdom. A lot of now-middle-aged individuals found a kind of new religion because of these movies, each of them deeply spiritual in their own right. Sadly, many of us did not get to see these movies in the theater for a variety of reasons; theaters were still sparse in many areas, we were too young to be allowed to go see them, or we learned about the movies too late to see them at the theater. The advent of the VHS allowed us to finally see the films years later, after we had long-since been immersed in their canons. I was lucky enough to see Star Wars in 1978, when it returned to the cinema that Summer. It was my first PG movie. It wasn't until 1983, when I spent part of my Summer with the Father Unit and Mary, that I got to see Close Encounters. They had a friend who owned a Betamax, and he screened that movie and Cat Ballou for us one evening.

I've noticed with increasing interest how movies that were released years ago, are being re-released in theaters, mainly because of the 3-D option. This made me think about how some of the classic films, from the 30s and 40s, enjoy homes in art house cinemas dedicated to Hollywood's golden age. And let's not forget the sacred nights of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, now a tried and true tradition that spread out from New York City until it touched lives world wide.

All of it has gotten me to thinking: my generation deserves...no, it fairly demands a platform to celebrate out Geek origins. It would please me no more than to open a cinema house, called Iconic Cinema, that caters to Generation X. For too long, we have been equated with cynicism and apathy; but we are the generation that gave rise to almost every great fan convention in modern times. It wasn't the first generation of Star Trek viewers who gave the Trek world life; it was their children (US) who began clamouring for more after seeing the shows in syndication. It was we who lamented for a proper Lord of the Rings movie, after many of us cut our reading teeth on the tales of Bilbo and, later, Frodo. It was we who grew up dreaming of virtual realities, thanks to the wholly alien inner world of Tron. And I could go on and on. Suffice to say, Simon Pegg's movie Paul would never have been made, had it not been for GenX and the movies that moved us so long ago.

If I had the money to invest, it would most assuredly be to create a meeting place for all these wondrous movies, and even TV shows. Not only would it allow those of us who never got to see the Big Two in the theaters, to finally realise that dream, it would also afford our children and grandchildren the opportunity to see these and many other movies in a format worthy of their greatness.

Maybe someday I'll get to do this.
tinhuviel: (Torquemada)
Why do movies portray non-English speakers as speaking English, but with the accents of the land they are from? What does the English or American accent sound like spoken in Russian?

For instance, I am watching this movie Vlad and it stars two Americans who are supposed to be Romanians, but they are speaking English in what is supposed to be their own country. I know it's so the viewing audience can understand it, but how does that work exactly?

It's like Cloris Leachman said in History of the World, Part 1, "We are so poor, we do not even have a language! Just this stupid accent!"
tinhuviel: (Red and black alien)
I'm doing something that Aunt Tudi and I did every year for fourteen years without fail. I'm watching the movie Independence Day. What is so shocking is that I have not yet lost my mind from grief. I'm not even crying. It makes me miss Aunt Tudi, yes, but it's a wistful kind of longing. I wish she were here to watch the movie with me, but something tells me that she'd kick my arse if I didn't watch it. We would always cheer when New York and Los Angeles would get blown to smithereens. When Dubya was in the office, we would fantasise that he was in the White House when the aliens vaporised it. Good times, good times.

After making 2012Roland Emmerich said that he would no longer make any more disaster films. Well, I don't guess so. He blew up or froze the entire northern hemisphere. He has repeatedly destroyed New York and Los Angeles. Then in 2012 he destroyed the whole damn world. Once you've eradicated your home world, there's really not much left to blow up, freeze, drown, fry, smother, kick, headbutt, or whip real good. So either Emmerich starts making films that don't include much disaster, or he gives up the cinematic ghost, apologisse to the Earth, and retires to highest peak of the South Pole, which is the only place he hasn't eradicated, to my knowledge.

Okay, I'm signing off for now. Washington DC is about to buy a ticket to the biggest weenie roast on Earth. Holy-fucking-Roswell, Batman!
tinhuviel: (Podling)
I am watching the first version of this film, the one from 1975. When the movie initially came out, I was eight years old and completely amazed with the story, music, and special effects. It is what inspired me to read the book, and learned about Brown Mountain in NC, the mountain the story was based on. I retrospect, I enjoyed the book more than I did the movie, but the film was very pivotal for me. I became a lover of Romany music because it reminded me of the theme song to Escape to Witch Mountain, and I began to educate myself on the phenomena of all things supernatural. I was already predisposed to be fascinated with the unexplained and the powers of the mind.

Even though I will never forget the benefits this movie has provided me, I must admit that it has not aged well. The music seems a bit trite now, and the movie pretty much butchers Alexander Key's book. I have this DVD, but I doubt I'll watch it that often, unless I'm feeling more nostalgic than is healthy.

In other news, it is going on 7 PM, and it's 16 trillion degrees outside. Kill me now.
tinhuviel: (Never Wrong a Writer)
I decided earlier that I wasn't going to spend the entire night in the deathtrap of a house, and opted to go see The Raven, because there's nothing like spending part of the night with John Cusack. Get your minds out of the gutter. Cusack is groovy cool, but I just don't see him that way. But maybe you do. Well, whatever, back to the story.

The screening was at 10:30. I left at 10, in plenty enough time to get there and maybe get a drink...if my nightblindness had not made me miss the exit and make me have to double back to Woodruff Road. I got in just under the wire, and walked into an empty theatre. This was actually how I wanted it and one of the reasons I chose to go to the last showing. But just before the movie actually started, a man walked in. And he sat down a couple of rows behind me. Right behind me. This was night, I was alone, and we were about to watch a movie essentially about serial murder. I began running through the few Kung Fu moves I know. Now, I may have a death wish and, given my taste in men and characters, I've always figured I'd end up being murdered by a serial killer, but I want to do it on my terms. I at least wanted to see the movie first.

What can I say about The Raven? It is in every way a brilliant film. I've been following the development of the movie closely, because I have a deep affection for Edgar Allan Poe, and John Cusack is my homeboy from a past life. And there's never been a movie I've seen him in that I haven't loved. He's been talking on Twitter about his immersion into the person of Poe for some time, and it was fascinating to see him get so involved with and come to love the author and his works.

You could really tell. Even though this was a fictional Poe, John Cusack really brought as much reality as he could to the man. He went over and above board with this role, and he should be given multitudinous props. The supporting cast was also stellar. When I saw Brendan Gleeson, I was pretty damned thrilled. Love that man. Luke Evans certainly matched Cusack in talent, but that's what happens when a Welshman and an Irishman get together. Sparks fly.

There were some aspects about the movie, especially later on in the film that really kind of freaked me out. It has to do with the ending, and I don't want to give anything away, but a couple of quotes near the end hit waaaaay close to home. Suffice to say, it's that synchronicity thing. Of course, it just got weirder when I got in the car and cranked up the iPod. XTC hasn't shown up on the iPod in ages, and what's the first song that comes on? "Rook," by XTC. Even though the song is about European folklore surrounding this bird and its cousin the crow, both are related to the raven, and I'd always equated "Rook" with Poe's "Raven."  And it's even more relevant now, considering the plot of the movie. 

So, that's freakin' strange. Here are the lyrics to the song.

XTC "Rook" from the album Nonsuch (1992)
Rook, Rook Read from your book
Who murders who and where is the treasure hid?
Crow, Crow Spill all you know
Is that my name on the bell?

Rook, Rook Gaze in the brook
If there's a secret can I be part of it?
Crow, Crow Before I'll let go, say is that my name on the bell?

Soar up high, see the semaphore from the washing lines
Break the code of the whispering chimneys and traffic signs
Where's the message that's written under the base of clouds?
Plans eternal, I know you know, so don't blurt out loud

Rook, Rook By hook or by crook
I'll make you tell me what this whole thing's about!
Crow, Crow Why can't you show
If that's my name on the bell?

On the wings of night, I fly too, above field and stream
My head bursting with knowledge 'till I wake from the dream
If I die and I find that I had a soul inside
Promise me that you'll take it up on its final ride

Rook, Rook Gaze in the brook
If there's a secret can I be part of it?
Crow, Crow Before I'll let go, say is that my name on the bell?

Oh, in case you haven't noticed, my viewing partner did not kill me. He left before the credits rolled, and I always stick around for the credits. That's how I've always learned my movie trivia, even though IMdB has pretty much made the practice redundant. Old habits die hard, and apparently so do I.
tinhuviel: (NOT SAFE)
It has been repeatedly NOT SAFE on Facebook today. Even experienced a brief conversation on my 'Phoenician' video. Was gonna seriously write on 'Star Watcher' and even 'The Braid,' but my reality keeps being canoodled with and keeping my psyche in an uproar. This combined with the Absinthe scene in Deceiver has put a dent in my sanity today.

That said, I'm going to the 10:30 screening of The Raven tonight. Because I want to. And I can.
tinhuviel: (Sith Tin)
We are having a major thunderstorm here right now. The animals are climbing me like I'm a fire fighters' ladder. And it's starting to piss me off. I feel for them, I really do. But being the only person here now is pernear impossible to tolerate when you look like you're dripping fur, so many animals are on you like freckles.

I am watching X-Men First Class. On TV. I have the DVD. This is something I do when I really like a movie, and I don't know why. My first guess is that it's a mental defect. All that aside, I grow increasingly fond of the Magneto character each time I see this flick. I completely understand why he established the Brotherhood of Mutants, considering he and his entire family had been sorely abused by the Krauts for being Jews. A Jewish Mutant? That's perfect reason to want to kick everyone's ass forever. I'm with him 100%. And I am particularly fond of X-Men First Class. I may even like it better than X-Men 2: X-Men United. That one seriously rocked. X-Men First Class may actually have too much eye candy in it, though. I mean, really, James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender? That's just wrong...in a completely right sort of way.

I am supposed to call the DMV to see if they got the lien release from Capital One. Onyx Acceptance, which handled my car loan for the ION never updated their records despite my paying off the loan (early no less!) and getting my original title. The insurance company couldn't use that title and I found out why yesterday. So I don't have my money for a new car, and I have to turn in the rental today. I'm hoping to get this lien hoo-ha straightened out today and the the proper paperwork overnighted to Nationwide, so they can e-transfer the settlement funds to my bank tomorrow.

But I'm looking at being stranded for at least the weekend. Diane and Bobby are going to help me hunt for a new car as soon as I have the cash in my hands.

In other news, I have decided that folding laundry is against my religion. I'm right now taking a break from folding three basket loads of the devil fabric. But I must get back to it. So...good bye.

Silver City

Apr. 7th, 2012 06:22 am
tinhuviel: (Marlow)
I watched Silver City a few hours ago. It starred Danny Huston and co-starred Tim Roth. Seeing them together (Huston being 6'2" and the Roth being 5'7") was like watching Mutt and Jeff. But it was all worth it when there was a scene with them in bed drinking and smoking. They were clothed and it was not a romantic scene except in my own filthy little mind. I would not be typing this, if it had been a Brokedy-back Mountain sort of situation, because I would have dropped dead right on the spot. Way too much sexiness for one movie, and that's not even taking into account the fact that Billy Zane is also in this flick. My Demon Knight, Marlow, and Archibald...good grief.
tinhuviel: (Dr. Who Boogie)
When I first saw this movie, this scene and Jeffrey Jones' "Drahkoola" scene almost made me wet my pants. There are probably only a wee handful of people who remember this flick, and even fewer people who found it funny. But I thought it was stupidly hilarious, and I still quote the Gypsy woman when I get the urge to, you know, actually sleep. If I can find the "Drahkoola" scene, I'll be uploading that to You Tube as well, so be warned.

tinhuviel: (Cadmus Dark Eyes)
I took a wild hair and zipped off to Greenville where there stands a most miraculous record store called Earshot. They sell not only CDs, but also hundreds of used DVDs, tchachkes, books, and sundry weird things, many of which I stocked up on a few months ago, when I was compiling Barry's weirdo stalker care package (Jesus action figures, monster finger cots, dashboard Buddhas, teeny-tiny Voodoo dolls, you get the picture).

While I was there, I found two used DVDs which tickled me pink. One is the deluxe version of Manhunter, which includes all sorts of extras, not to mention the director's cut of the film. That being said, I now have an extra copy of Manhunter and it's free to whomever reaches out to me first. I'm linking this journal entry to Facebook as well, so whoever gets me first, gets the goods. And it's totally worth it, yo. This is the first Hannibal Lecter movie, and quite possibly the best adaptation of any of the Thomas Harris series. Brian Cox takes on the role of Hannibal in this, and he does a mighty fine job, even though Anthony Hopkins owned the role, and rightfully so. If you don't know who Brian Cox is, he's a British character actor who has worked with both Tom Hardy (in The Take) and Tim Roth (in Rob Roy). He's fabulicious.

I also found a copy of the Roth's very first film, Made in Britain. That's gonna be a hoot to watch, swastika'd third eye chakra and all.

While I was at Earshot, I checked to see if they had any Shriekback music in stock. They did not. I was tres displeased. So, when I went to pay for my DVDs and patchouli incense, I put on my mantle of music biz promotions representative and asked the dude behind the counter what Shriekback the store had available for ordering. There were only four: "The Y Records Years," "Oil & Gold" (the domestic version), "Oil & Gold" (the 2-CD import), and "Life in the Loading Bay." No "Cormorant" and no "Glory Bumps." It was rankling. So I informed the dude about how the Shrieks were still making music and were, in fact, back in the studio as we were probably speaking. I asked him if there were any way Earshot could connect with Malicious Damage to start carrying the Shriek catalog. He did not know, and suggested that I talk to the manager, who would be back in the store tomorrow. I gave the man my name, email address, and phone number and he promised to pass the information on to the manager. If I don't hear back from someone by the beginning of next week, I am calling them. There has got to be some way that the primary independent record store in the area can begin carrying this music, which fits right in to their reason for...being.

I left to go to the grocery as I needed orange juice. The minute I walked in the store, Coldplay's "Viva la Vida" came on over the store speakers. I have never heard this song played in any public forum until today. Flint is obviously haunting me. Funny thing is, when I got back in the car, I turned on the iPod to shuffle, and the first song it played was "Despite Dense Weed" by Shriekback. I take this as a pretty strong message that I need to finish up the Flint/Cadmus tale and move on to other things.

For now, I'm moving on to my friend Diane's house.
tinhuviel: (Danny Orphaeus)
Right, so I'll be at the cinema on 11 May, holding a drool cup, wearing an adult diaper, chain smoking Camel's, slogging down copious amounts of booze, and fanning myself with the biggest fucking fan I can muster.

Burton
Depp
Elfman
Vampires in the 70s

DARK SHADOWS
tinhuviel: (Maul - snarky)


tinhuviel: (Cadmus - Long Hair)
We got a bit of bad news at the hospital today; Aunt Tudi's gall bladder is just fine. This means that it's either a gastric condition caused by a long ordeal with diabetes or it's her heart. I don't know what can be done if it's the diabetes-related affliction and we may not know if it's the heart giving Aunt Tudi problems until Monday because her stress test has to be read at Regional, which may not get it read until Monday. They have an on-duty cardiologist for the weekends, but that doctor may only be available for emergencies, not to read test results. So, Aunt Tudi may be spending the weekend in the hospital until all the test results are back and they know what's going on with her. I would prefer that she remain in the hospital until we know her problem, despite missing her like crazy.

About an hour before visiting hours were over, there came a knock on Aunt Tudi's door. It turned out to be Hannah, a friend of ours we haven't seen in many years ~ too long, too long! We all hugged one another and said our happy hellos before sitting down and catching up on what the years have brought to us and what's been going on with Aunt Tudi. We stayed almost to past the end of visiting hours, so Hannah and I hugged and kissed Aunt Tudi good night and we walked each other out to our cars. Hannah promised to email her blog address and phone number. She already has mine, since The Cliffs is about as public as any one personal blog can be, and my phone number has changed in 7000 years.

I got home around 9:30, made my necessary phone calls, and am now watching The Reckoning, featuring Tom Hardy in the role that inspired Gethsymonae. So far, it's been right up my alley. I love movies set in the English Middle Ages. Seeing Willem Dafoe makes me want to see Shadow of the Vampire again. Oh gods, how I love that movie!

I've been on the phone with Todd for the past hour and a half. We had a great conversation, but it makes me miss him even more than I usually do. I hope we get to see one another soon. On that note, I'm going to bed and watching Babylon 5 until I pass out which, by the way I'm feeling, will take all of 6.582 minutes.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus - Sanguinem Mittat)
It's been a while. I've had nothing to write, not even the the collection of short stories The Harming Tree. It's a dry spell. I have them sometimes. Eventually, I'll grow out of it. In the meantime, I'll have just have to sit it out. One thing thing that has me at a stand still is that Tom Hardy had mixed inextricably with Barry Andrews in the creation of Cadmus Pariah. Even the illustration by Khanada Taylor is a combination of the two, which kind of freaks me out, but there's nothing to be done about it.

I still haven't heard back from the judge. Diane said it took her about a month before she heard anything, then she she was approved. I'm trying to take the high road here, but I'm still pessimistic about it. It's just my nature.

It's the weekend, which means movie time. Nothing comes on during the weekend, so Aunt Tudi watch move after move until we pass out. Right now, we're watching Mr. Brooks, then Needful Things. Of course, I'll have to get my Tom Hardy fix and watch Nemesis. Inception is out of the question because it causes Aunt Tudi an atrocious headache. I'll have to go to the bedroom and watch that with the headphones one so as not to bother her.

I may take a nap first. I'm cold so I need to get warm.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus Wrath)
I have had nothing but beans to eat all day. Goddess help all those around me. But OH! how I love beans. Any kind of bean, I don't care. I could eat beans every day for the rest of my life. Legumes are my friend and the enemy of my enemies. I am a walking weapon of mass destruction when I get what I want to eat. Add pork-soaked greens to that and I am a deadly weapon worthy of a James Bond film.

At night, I've been watching the movie Inception. The film is brilliant. I've long been a proponent of dreams and how they can be manipulated lucidly, so this film is right up my alley. The only problem is that it's too loud on our TV in the living room, so I've been watching it with headphones on the little TV. I can clearly hear the dialogue and follow the plot despite the explosions and gunfire. Quite simply, the film is brilliant. It should have won the Oscar. I believe that Christopher Nolan was robbed. And I'm not jut saying that because Tom Hardy was in it. Anyone could have played his role and been a part of the whole that made up the core group of the movie. I'm just glad it was Tom Hardy. I like to watch him act. It only further convinces me that he's the one to play Cadmus. Oh, and I've learnt that he wore a nose piece for his role in Shinzon. His nose is much straighter and has a slight knob to it in Nemesis than it does in his other movies. If he played Cadmus, he would keep his own nose.

I have not written today. I have slept instead. I was up late last night, all excited over Khanada's version of the artwork for the second edition of The Chalice. Sophie also has some plans for the The Harming Tree, which I won't mention here. It'll be up to her to mention that first, then I shall reveal it here. It's exciting to have a group of people excited about my work. Cadmus Pariah is truly hearted, I can tell you that. Later on, I shall probably write, hopefully finishing or coming close to finishing up 'The Last Acolyte.'

Right now, I'm watching Manhunter, with its ethereal use of Shriekback music to enhance the atmosphere of the serial killer movie. Who knew such a gently sad song like "Evaporation" would end up in a movie about a vicious killer?
tinhuviel: (Barry - Elf)
I was a tad vague in my welcome to the new readers, so I supposed I should be a bit more detailed. Veterans of the Cliffs need not go through it, as you've been through it enough, bless your pea-pickin' hearts.


  1. I'm a writer. An author, now, I guess I should say. My first book, The Chalice, is scheduled to be released to the unsuspecting public next month. It's the first of a trilogy called The Vampire Relics and surrounds the goings-on of a group of Vampires trying to collect those relics whilst dealing with a most unpleasant character by the name of Cadmus Pariah. The books are inspired by and deeply influenced by a band named Shriekback.

  2. I am a freelance promoter of Shriekback, having begun a search for fellow fans in 2000 and accidentally meeting the leader of the band, Barry Andrews. He and I have an odd relationship. It's part friendship, part business-partnership, part hero-worship, and part what the hell? I write about him a lot. He lets me listen to his music before it's unleashed upon the world. He's a lovely fellow of whom I have an unsubstantiated phobia and an undeniable fascination.

  3. I get causes. My last cause was The Joker Blogs. I became such a fervent supporter, I insinuated myself on the promotion team. I still believe in the creator of the Blogs and believe he's the future of Hollywood.

  4. I am owned by four dogs and three cats. I used to have many more cats than I have now, being deep into the animal rescue thing, but finances don't allow me to do that anymore.

  5. My Aunt Tudi lives with me. She's in poor health, as am I, so we spend our down time at doctors' offices harassing healthcare workers.

  6. I'm a misanthropist with a deep-seated hope that the Mayan Calendar is indeed an indication that our species is on the way out. One of my favourite speeches of all time is Mr. Smith's speech to Morpheus in The Matrix, where he declares humanity a virus. No truer words were ever spoken. This extends to children. I think they're walking petri dishes put on this Earth to rattle nerves and spread illness.

  7. I'm a movie buff and music trivia nut. The only type of movies I can't stand are romantic comedies and the only music I can say I truly despise is Country Music. This makes for awkward situations at times since I'm stuck here in Redneck Land.

  8. My two favourite TV shows are no longer on the air. They were Battlestar Galactica and LOST. I'm now down to Law & Order: SVU.

  9. I'm a diehard Liberal. Anything remotely smacking of Fascist thinking or activity is a big turn off to me. Nazis were Fascists and, since I have Jewish blood running through my veins, that's a serious bone of contention for me. Too bad I live in the reddest state besides Texas in the Union.

  10. One of my all-time heroes is Jeff Lynne. If you don't know who he is, look him up. He's an angel on this sad little planet of ours.



I think that's pretty much it. If you have any questions or comments, you know what to do.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus Wrath)
Movies watched:

  1. Alice in Wonderland

  2. Xanadu

  3. Star Trek: Nemesis



Movies to be watched:

  1. Mr. Brooks

  2. A Woman Scorned: the Betty Broderick Story

  3. Betty Broderick: Her Final Fury



I'm fairly certain that'll take us to bedtime. What a lazy Saturday!
tinhuviel: (Caveman)
The above subject line has less to do with the content of this post and more to do with my general hatred of all-confining subject lines. Sometimes, I like to let my mind wonder whilst writing these and Flying Weasels allow me to that much more easily than "I got my hairrr did today."

Off and on I've been watching Avatar on the computer today. I must say I've enjoyed it much more in this format than on the TV. I could never get the sound balanced out which made the movie unbearably loud or so low, I couldn't make out the dialogue. With my handy-dandy ear plugs, though, this wasn't an issue and I followed along much more easily and without a headache. Always good things in Tin's Land. Uncle Michael wants his movie back my Monday, so I'm probably gonna watch it a couple more times before grudgingly handing it back over to him.

One movie I've been wanting to see again is Pee Wee's Big Adventure. There are just so many comedic gems in that movie and to sit back almost 30 years later and be able to watch the birth a beautiful working relationship heartens me in a way. The world would never have been the same if Tim Burton and Danny Elfman hadn't struck up a working friendship. It's such things as that, that make me believe in a higher power.

My nails have grown out and are exceedingly strong. I'm gonna see if I have any decent nail polish and polish them sometime tomorrow. They're the longest right now than they've been when I worked at the Pit. I'm typing with my nails instead of my fingers. Yes, that long. I may just say "fuck it" and cut them down to nubbins like I've been doing. I can't see myself being concerned with nail polish right now. Just...not interested.

I'm keen on working on The Moon Myths, but I've vowed not to touch that project until I'm finished completely with The Vampire Relics. I just wonder what the Father Unit would have thought about it all. He wrote a great deal. The Mother Unit writes too. I recall reading part of a manuscript that put me in mind later on of I Am Legend, but there was a real freaky twist to it. I wonder if she still has it and would be willing to maybe collaborate. The Father Unit tended to write more comedic material and pieces that one might find in The Saturday Evening Post. Not my thing, but I respected his ability to do so. I think I fall more in the Mother Unit's category of The Strange and Unusual. She trained me early, letting me watch Dark Shadows from my crib.

I'd like to also touch on my memories of the Beezers, actual phenemona that happened to me when I was a baby and a toddler. I'd be very interested to make contact with Whitley Streiber and see what he thought about the Beezers. Personally, I think I was being dicked around with by the Greys. I'm going to be as objective as possible, but you know how time and the ebb and flow of memories can affect one's objectivity.

There are just so many projects on which I could work once the proofing and rewrites on The Relics are completed. I honestly got a little antsy toward the end of The Augury of Gideon. What would I do with my time? What would I write? Almost immediately, the answer came "write and write whatever you damned well please!" It was refreshing to hear that ~ liberating. So that's what I'm gonna do. I've lived with my Vampires for almost a quarter of a century. It's time to move onward and upward, and see where it takes me. Here's hoping Fey is on board for that particular journey.

My pain levels are high today, so my mind is bouncing around like an under-inflated beach ball soaked in BP tar balls. Lovely metaphor...shame we have to 'get it.' Aunt Tudi and I have quibbled a couple of times, mainly because I'm arse when I'm hurting and she's always the strong, hard rock of a pioneer woman who won't let anything get her down. I just want to slap up-side the head on days like today. I'm going to watch Wipe-Out, laugh at the slapstick, then go to bed early. Because I can.

ID4

Jul. 4th, 2010 04:32 pm
tinhuviel: (Red and black alien)
In what has become a major Evans tradition, Aunt Tudi and I are watching Independence Day and cheering with each toppling landmark. I can only imagine the carnage spread out like a Las Vegas banquet Roland Emmerich offers up in 2012. Just thinking about it makes my little heart go pitty-pat.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus Wrath)
Oh, I saw the trailer for Inception last night and for a split second they showed this wondrous man. I blurted out to Aunt Tudi, "there's my Cadmus!" Turns out I was right. Tom Hardy gets sixth billing in the film and now I have to see it. I think it's funny I'm calling him "My Cadmus" now. [livejournal.com profile] falkenna saw it before I did, so major props go out to her.
tinhuviel: (Vampire Relics)
I know, I'm such a dweeb, but I can't write right now and my mind has been blown trying to work with this new version of MS Publisher (Microsoft should die for having changed it). So I'm sitting here watching Chronicles of Riddick and drinking cheerwine, and I decided I'd go ahead and cast the Relics, should it ever be made into a movie (like I would have any say, but anyway...).

Cadmus Pariah - Tom Hardy hands down.
Kelat - Morena Baccarin
Dmitri - Johnny Depp
Faust/Kallum - Scott McClure/James McAvoy
Orphaeus Cygnus - Seth Green
Rebekah - Rachel Weisz
Mephistopheles - Richard T. Jones
Agatha Crawford - ?
Paine Bryerson - ?
The Apostate - Christopher Eccleston

Aaaand that's all I have for now. I seriously doubt the story will ever make it to celluloid, but a girl can dream, especially since I always saw this as a movie anyway. What's the harm in dreaming any ol'ways?
tinhuviel: (Cadmus)
I never go through a Thanksgiving without thinking of the return letter Todd and I got in the mail while still working for the Readers Digest division of BMG. It was written phonetically by an obviously non-native English speaker. I remember it perfectly and transcribe it here for you.

I do not laik musick in mai laif. I hef beth laif in trable. -- Teng You

We were working overtime that night and spent a good thirty minutes of BMG's precious time slumped on the desk in literal hysterics. Yes, we had to wipe out eyes. Or..yes, we hed to waip owr ai's. That was in 1991 I think because I recall working a lot of overtime to help Todd with returns letters during the time "Walk on the Ocean" was popular. Oh, and speaking of "Walk on the Ocean," it was also during working overtime that I called the radio station to request that song, not knowing a contest was going on. I ended up being the correct caller and winning two tickets to a male strip show. All I wanted was my freakin' song. I gave the tickets to a coworker and ended up buying the Toad the Wet Sprocket album.

Another odd memory of those days was the BMG open house in 1988. Todd and I were grabbed by this person in an elephant costume and we had a picture taken. We never found out who was in the costume and, years later, still got a little freaked out by it. "Attacked by Furries!" on Fox News at 10!

Why do these memories flood forth now? Perhaps it's because I'm high on coffee. Perhaps it's because I got a good night's sleep for once in forever. Perhaps it's because I miss Todd and miss happier days. Perhaps it's all of the above combined with the fact it's Tengsgiving. I often wonder about the person who wrote that letter. How can you not laik musick in your laif? I cannot imagine.


On a wholly different matter, [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker showed me the trailer to the upcoming film Daybreakers. While I'm excited about seeing this (Sam Neill as a Vampire, hello?), I'm also a little ticked off because they're using a concept that I use in The Vampire Relics: the idea of humans as blood herds for Vampires (or at least for Cadmus). Just last night I touched upon this again as I wrote furiously for NaNo:

Someday, though…someday, he would be strong enough to overcome her and feed her to her own chalice. And then he would take the Great Hive and make it his personal herd, feeding on the Vampires one after the other until the vermin were removed from the planet forever. And then he would start on the humans, feeding them to the chalice, transforming their blood and drinking his fill. The Earth would be his hunting ground and woe would be uttered by every living thing at his behest.
Now, I've got tons of notes that pre-date this movie by a good twenty years, so I'm not changing a damned thing, they can't make me! Besides, it's not like the world is full of Vampires. It's just this one lone black hole of a Vampire who plans to devour the entire planet someday. Same basic concept, different direction. And that's only his aim, anyway. We still aren't sure if he'll ever succeed.

Hatter

Nov. 19th, 2009 06:48 pm
tinhuviel: (Danny Orphaeus)
He has everything that sings to me as a weirdo and an appreciator of the Strange and Unusual ("I myself am strange and unusual...."). Already [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker has fallen under his jaundiced sway. I'm pretty certain all Depp fans, most Joker fans, whatever surviving Maul fans there are left, and lovers of Danny Elfman will fall hard for the Mad Hatter. I'm going to fight this. I'm going to fight it hard.

This wouldn't be a Joker situation for me. No. It would be more of a full-on Maulific lust thing. Sure, there's psychology there. He's mad, of course. Actually, he looks more demented than mad. That's neither here nor there. Anyone in his or her right mind (ha!) knows that combining Johnny Depp and the Mad Hatter was a 100% win situation. Tim Burton knew this. Why do you think Depp is now the poster child for the new Burton movie? Already there's a buzz going on about the movie, mainly due to the images of Johnny Depp as the Hatter.

I reiterate... I'm going to fight this.

I don't need any more fandom in my world. I've gotten in enough trouble as is. I need some peace. I need to write my own stuff. And I grew up at a time when Tom Petty was the Mad Hatter. You don't get over that in 24 years (when the video for "Don't Come Around Here No More" came out). And I've never been fond of the Lewis Carroll stories. The only characters I ever liked were Mad Hatter and that Hookah-sucking caterpillar (trippy, man!). Even the Cheshire Cat never really did much for me. And Tom Petty almost scared me off the Mad Hatter. I don't want to be a poorly-clad cake, thank you, and your tea looks weak.

So I have devised some anti-Hatter tactics and reasoning behind my refusal to get on this particular Crazy Train. My first tactic is my first reaction to Depp's Hatter upon being shown his picture by [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker:

"THAT looks like Tim Burton picked up Danny Elfman and knocked Johnny Depp upside the head with him." No seriously. Look...at...him...

Mad Hatter

Back in the day, Danny Elfman had a very similar 'do. Not that out there, but the same colour and texture. Burton's getting his fave dudes discombobulated and he's trying to make me to do the same, but I'm not gonna.

Okay, how about this? Just recently, Johnny Depp was proclaimed the sexiest man in America. This.

hatter eyeballs

The man's liver is busted and one eye is larger than the other. If this is sexy, what is scary in America? See, except for the funky eye colour, I already have one of these in my head. His name is Orphaeus Cygnus. He's a bit off in a fun sort of way. He has red hair. I don't recall him ever wearing a hat, though... ...again, that's neither here nor there. What I see here is a serious conflict of interest in my head. The first time Johnny Depp and Danny Elfman ever took the silver screen together, it nearly destroyed me. I'm not over Edward Scissorhands yet and, to this day, refuse to listen to any of Elfman's score from that movie. It took me two years before I could set eyes on Johnny Depp without tearing up.

I blame Tim Burton and my own outcast nature for all that, but the fact remains that I have issues when it comes to Depp and Elfman. The two should never ever share even a hint of physical resemblance. They're both beautiful in their own right. Mash 'em together and what have you got? A seriously jaundiced red-head who hasn't seen sunlight in 4 years probably because he's been in a small room in a straight-jacket. He also needs a liver transplant and a tooth filling. And some corrective eye surgery to fix that unsettling Picasso look he has going on there.

So yeah. Mad Hatter.

I may end up eating my own hat when I say that I refuse to succumb to my natural fascination with him. Too many pitfalls and pratfalls await my dance down that path to perdition. I'm keeping Elfman to my left, Depp to my right, and Burton in front of me where I can keep an eye on his sneaky arse.
tinhuviel: (Dark Doubt)
I find it frustrating that, for the first time in the history of the Cliffs of Insanity, I'm having to filter certain posts. This has always been a public blog and I hope that, eventually, it will become that way again for the most part. I've had to set some entries to private because I can't not write about what's going on in my life, yet I can't let people read what I'm writing about. It's distressing because I am, for the most part, a very open person. I don't like hiding. I don't appreciate insincerity, hypocrisy, or other such unpleasantness that can often be associated with the worst examples of humanity. Since I've never been a big fan of humanity in the first place, the worst examples hold a special place of perturbation in my eyes. What's even worse is when I let such individuals into my realms and find that, like a barnacle on a whale's arse, they're nigh to impossible to rid myself of them.

And that makes me angry at myself. Because I was fool enough to allow these people any access to my life to begin with, I'm now having to suffer their intolerability indefinitely. The situation is dire and untenable. And I have only myself to blame. I've suffered so much unwarranted abuse over the past few months and I've searched my life over the past few years to see if maybe Karma might be involved here. I have found nothing to merit such foulness. I'm still in the process of sorting out the situation. The more I'm forced to dwell on it, the more infuriated I become. If anger makes a better Sith, I'm the best Sith in the galaxy, this one or the other one that's far, far away. My rage has been sufficiently honed.

I am once again behind on my email. There just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day for me to do everything I need or want to do. One of my problems is focus. Fibro Fog has been a serious issue for me of late and this doesn't amuse me in the least. One thing that did seem to help that condition was my consumption of a couple of Arizona Rx Energy Fast Shots the other night. No, I didn't drink two at one sitting. I paced them out over the course of a few hours. I needed to be awake and alert that night, and I needed my faculties. I got everything I needed out of that, but I am not making a habit of drinking energy drinks. First of all, despite the herbal base of such concoctions (extreme caffeine notwithstanding), I don't think they're very good for you. They serve a purpose when one needs to remain on one's toes but, other than that, it's a poor substitute for overcoming Fibro Fog naturally. It's just something I have to deal with in my own way and without the risky effects of energy elixirs. That's not to say I won't get more Arizonas if the need arises, given similar situations like the other night. I'm just not going to Do Whacka Do on a regular basis.

Even though I have signed up to participate in NaNoWriMo, I have resigned myself to the fact that I will not win this year; however, that's not to say I won't succeed in my goal. There are two reasons I signed up for NaNo. The main reason was to challenge myself to finish The Blood Crown. Even though I doubt I'll reach my 50k goal required by NaNo to win, I'm pretty certain I'll come close to completing the second installment of The Vampire Relics. I've created a Facebook group for the Relics and will probably create an LJ comm for them as well. When I do this, I'll be deleting [livejournal.com profile] chalice_novel. [livejournal.com profile] gunslingaaahhh is going to be editing The Chalice, which will go up in installments in the new Vampire Relics community. She's currently editing "The Sainted Confessor," which is a huge chunk of The Blood Crown. That'll be the first thing to go up in the FB group, but it won't appear in the community over here until The Blood Crown is complete.

I won't win NaNo this year because The Joker Blogs is still going on and will continue past Samhain. I was under the impression the series would end at Halloween. This has been extended. I don't know when the series will end now. Who knows? The current series may end and then another may begin? That's total speculation on my part maybe just a wee tad of wishful thinking. Either way, when I committed to help Dude with my own odd brand of PR, I did so for the long haul or until he tells me to walk the plank. I can't turn away from my duties to TJB for the entire month of November. I don't feel right doing it. It's not who I am to make a commitment, then just wander off for a little while when I might be needed to do what I promised I would do. So I'll be balancing NaNo and TJB in November and that means writing 50k words in 30 days might not be the most realistic goal in the world.

Is it doable? It might be. I'm going to give it my all. I'll give my all to both projects. But some things, like email, may be neglected as a result. Best to leave me messages on my posts here or reach out to me on Facebook or Twitter. That's not to say I won't write you back if you send me an email. I'm just saying it may take a while. When you have no mind to wrap around all the things you're doing, life in general gets a little convoluted.

Speaking of email, I got an email notification of a comment posted to my You Tube channel. It says: Tinhuviel...WOW! I knew you from your Shriekback yahoogroup back about 10 years ago! Not sure if I was Lilly Tilly, Sierra Bloom or Heide (or was I meengreens) in those days, LOL

I read an awesome story of yours back then, something very Vampirish, with a man remindful of B. Great stuff... just found your name on a... what else? ... Shriekback video!



How freaky-cool is that? I remember HeideHo very well. We had some very cool astrological conversations, mainly about B's chart, which is oddly almost identical to mine, even though our birthdays are almost 11 years apart and we were born in extremely different locales. Guess that's one reason why we've always kind of grokked on both a spoken and unspoken level. I left a comment on Heide's YT channel and I've friended her. If I'm not mistaken, she's a Canadian. I love Canadians. It's good to reconnect to people with whom you've lost touch. I gathered quite a network of unique and talented souls when I went searching for fellow Shriekback fans in the hope of rallying a revival of the band. That goal was met and produced some wonderful friendships, inspired creations by fans, and surreal encounters (like my visit with B in 2006). There's nothing I love more than to be an active part of a group of souls coming together for a common purpose and, as a result, Making Things Happen. Yes, that's capitalised for a reason. It's that important. And it always thrills me when souls that may have drifted apart, find their way back to one another. Now, if only Me'Shel'le would emerge from her hidey-hole...

I'm about 1/3 of the way through another Date story, this one called "The Artist's Date," and is a sort of 'thank you basket' to [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker for the lovely art she's so far contributed to The Vampire Relics. It's your typical Joker Date Night tale with the 3 rules to be followed strictly: 1) A Heath Ledger Reference, 2) An original scar story, and 3) the Date dies. There were a few special requests for this particular date since it is, after all, [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker's date. She's a horror nut and is truly looking forward to being murdered by J. This is not to say I want her dead in any way, shape, or form, but her wish is my command and J's absolute pleasure. Not sure where this will fit in the chronology, but Sidney's alive, so it's definitely after "The Nun's Date," where he was introduced. I'm not sure if I ever mentioned that Sidney is based entirely upon Sidney Poitier, who starred in Lilies of the Field. That was my paternal grandmother, Granny's all-time favourite film and, since it has to do with nun's it just made sense to me to connect this movie with "The Nun's Date" and introduce a little grounding energy to Joker's madcap existence. And I'm probably going to hell for making such a connection. Yet another reason I should be preparing my handbasket now. I'm truly racking up the Hell points these days...trust me.

After I finish "The Artist's Date," I'm making a bit of a departure in J-fic Land and am going to try my hand at writing Joker as a woman. Why? Well, it's another "thank you basket," this time to [livejournal.com profile] acook, who did a fantastic reading of a portion of "The Sainted Confessor." Over time, she's been creating a costume tailored just for her and her version of Joker. No, she's not dressing as Joker or as a girl trying to be Joker. No no no, it's not that simple. No. [livejournal.com profile] acook has defined herself as Joker, had Joker been female all along. [livejournal.com profile] acook is Femme Joker. That said, I'm going to attempt a fic based on that concept. I have no idea what it's going to be like and it will mean introducing yet another J into my already crowded head, but I think it'll be worth it. To give an idea of what Femme Joker is all about, I present this snappy little video. Prepare to get your Romany on.


While we're talking J-fic, I want to scream from the hilltops that the third chapter of The Endgame is available for reading. I can't stress enough how you really should be reading this fiction. It only gets better with each subsequent chapter, so you're destined to be hooked and happy for it. Here's the link to the third chapter, entitled Epiphany. [livejournal.com profile] paisleydaze is truly a rare talent in writing and her ability to bring life to her characters, even those who aren't originally hers, is uncanny. When I read her Joker, I can hear him in my head. I love it when that happens and, therefore, I love Soph's story. You should read it, I'm telling you. It's not just good Joker fanfiction, it's good fiction period. And I need to finish my picture of Claire that I began ages ago. Like I said...not enough hours in the day for everything I want and need to do. But it'll happen, every...last...bit... Or heads will roll. And that'll be fun too.

I'm surrounded by talented people for the most part. Some who think they have me surrounded also think they're talented. They should think better of it. But that's another rant for another day. For now, I'm just gonna sit here and be grateful for talented friends who allow me to tag along.

I think that certainly should be enough from me. At least for now. I'm around these parts, just lurking, watching and observing. I'd never desert you guys...unless offered plenty of money. Hee! I'm gonna try to doze a little now. Then it's back up to write some more. It's 33 degrees here right now. Unprecedented.
tinhuviel: (Alpaca Lips)

Doubtful

Sep. 22nd, 2009 08:39 pm
tinhuviel: (Dark Doubt)
Do you doubt?

Do you have doubt?

Do you have such doubt?

Then you may have found a home with us on Facebook. Don't try to understand it. Just read my personal intro from over there:

Hello.

I'm Sithster Tinhuviel Artanis and I have such doubt.

This community was started because our little mascot here, my dog Toby aka Sister Ubiquita, chewed a hole in his blanket and, on the night Aunt Tudi and I watched the movie 'Doubt,' decided to stick his head through the hole, making himself look like a little nun.

When I saw him sitting there in his wimple and habit, I told Aunt Tudi, "Toby has such doubts."

I relayed this story to Sister Jilldo and Sister Megs, who both died of laughter, then returned to join me on Skype so that we could destroy every Joker quote in the 'The Dark Knight' with ..... DOUBT.

We plan on doing the same with other movies and forms of media (including The Joker Blogs because I'd have it no other way), and we welcome you to join us in the insanity and.... DOUBT.

My personal doubt is that I'm sane at all anymore. I think this tipped me right over the edge.

Now you know.


Explore the community, especially the pictures, where you'll fine a couple of photos of Toby as Sister Ubiquita of Our Lady of the Fuzzy Knuckles. That should make it all clear to you, especially you, [livejournal.com profile] paisleydaze. The only thing I can't explain is why Joker hasn't donned the habit...yet. Maybe he's still recovering from the nurse uniform. I don't know. If [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker has her way, he may end up in the habit before you can say Bob's your Uncle (or even Joe).

I'm sure with this post, everyone on my friends list has doubts.....about me. I don't blame you. I'm with you there 100%.

God bless.
tinhuviel: (Spork)
In the late 80s, I saw the movie Jumpin Jack Flash. I was so impressed with the character of Terri Dolittle, I decided right then and there that, if I ever found myself in a dead end bank job, I would decorate my desk to the point of the absurd, just to express my personality and piss off my boss (if my boss was a prick). Well, lucky me! I ended up in that dead end job in 1997 only it wasn't a bank, it was the music industry, and my boss was a complete and utter prick from hell. The Feudal Mistress was a sparse decorator because she had no bloody imagination. So I set to decorating. My cube was right outside her office so it was like having the bastard child of Salvador Dali and Fred Sanford sitting on her doorstep at all times. I'm sure she would have fired me if she could have, but I was the best special orders rep she had, handling all the large and difficult accounts. If I left, that would have meant she would have actually had to do some work, a lot of which she didn't didn't know how to do. It took years to collect everything I ended up having, yet only a few days to dismantle the mess. And I just found the pictures I took prior to moving out in 2005. So here 'tis, my homage to Whoopi Goldberg's madness in Jumpin' Jack Flash.

The Cube Tour )

So there you have it. My home away from home for long enough to drive me completely mad. It's been four years since we were all laid off and the only thing I miss about the place were some of the phenomenal people I met along the way and the chance to terrorise the Feudal Mistress on a daily basis. She needed to have a chopstick inserted into her eye. Instead, I gave her a figurative chopstick with my ridiculous decor.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus)
Aunt Tudi and I have some errands to run later. After that, though, I have some things I want to do.

I've begun a new quote renovation, taking old quotes and giving modern interpretations, usually Sithly in nature, 'cos that's how I roll yo.

I'm also going to be writing a thing for the mods on TJB on how to deal with 'problem children' on the forums and on their networking sites. We're all being friended and followed from You Tube to Twitter and, sometimes, it gets little hairy with some of the more obnoxious Nerfs. Since I've had experience with folks like this in the past, especially whilst working in The Pit, I'm gonna impart what knowledge I have regarding this to the mods, one of which is relatively new to the net and are a little freaked out by what she's recently had to deal with. I expect things are only gonna get worse in the respect with the release of the next couple of episodes of The Joker Blogs. Tasks will be involved, so things are sure to get crazy.

The next part of The Blood Crown is for Kelat to pass on to Orphaeus the body of knowledge she carries within her infinite memory. He'll be come the keeper of all the Tarmian history and wisdom in relation to the Tribes of Thessaly, making him the first male to hold such sacred knowledge, and the first human. I think his title won't be Father of Memory, but Bard of Memory. In Tarmian, the word would be Kelat'lihar'vha, which essentially means the Singer of Memory. The memories will come unbidden to him as they are needed on the journey to and quest within Rome. Cadmus will be furious that he must depend on Orphaeus for knowledge they need for the success of their venture, but it won't matter because this ability Orphaeus possesses will be the one thing that will keep him alive in the presence of such a volatile and vicious Vampire.

I'm thinking of seeking collaboration in turning The Chalice into a screenplay. The book was always a movie in my head first. I'd had the thing cast, the person I wanted to score the film, and possible directors. I never stuck with one director, because none of them seemed just right for maintaining the vision I wanted. Maybe Peter Jackson, but I'm not sure he'd want to move away from the central goodness he tries to instill in his films, even though he comes from a gory, ridiculous background. Neither one really fits The Chalice anyway. Sure there's fantasy and blood, but neither really fits into the Jackson world. I need a director who has a hint of sociopathy, who can tap into the soul of the Cadmus character and allow the actor to bring him out in all his horrible glory. Personally, I'd like Ed Kowalczyk to play Cadmus Pariah. After seeing the 'Freaks' video, I really think he could pull it off, and he's had acting experience before, having appeared in The Fight Club.





I added that extra video to show his stage presence. He has that hypnotic charismatic power over his audience that I've described in Cadmus more than once. I think he'd be a dead ringer for the Cadmus character. Of course Barry would be my first pick, but I don't think he'd be willing to do that and, honestly, he's too old for the young Vampire now. Not that he doesn't still look uncannily young for his age, don't get me wrong. I just wonder if Ed could do a British accent and if he'd be willing to work with Barry Andrews in the creation of the character for screen. And, of course, Barry would have to do the songs for Magnificat. I'd like for Danny Elfman to score the film.

Gods listen to me. I talk like it's already a given, and I still don't have anyone who could help me make it into a screenplay. Pathetic much? I'm way too much of a dreamer.

Speaking of music, [livejournal.com profile] booraven22 sent me a bunch, including "I Like It" by Moby. I was listening to it while on chat with one of the TJB mods, [livejournal.com profile] luvthyjoker, who also happens to be a fantastic video editor who shows her fine work at her You Tube channel. I sent the song to her with the message "Nerfs the world over would worship at your toes if you made a tribute video to this song." Well, she did. And I've been laughing uncontrollably ever since. I'm not posting the link here because that'd just be wrong of me, and I feel dirty enough as it is. Anyway, that's a lot of what I did yesterday, just cackling at the absurdity of what we'd done. I blame [livejournal.com profile] booraven22 for sending me the song. I have to blame someone.

These new meds are kicking my butt. I fell asleep during Knowing last night, so I need to watch the rest of that. For now, though, I think I'm gonna have another lie down.
tinhuviel: (Can't Stop Writing)
Okay, I'm taking a break from psychically slaughtering Nerfs to write here before I rrite more on the story. I've been meaning to post these pictures all day, but I kept being pulled into rampant idiocy and general insanity (or that could be the other way around). I think it's the psychic energy of Lughnassadh that's brought out the crazies more than usual to test the limits of my patience. It made me wish I were in Dune. In Dune there are words that can kill.

Anyway.... on to the pictures!

random imagery for no reason whatseover )

I'm about halfway through The Fic That Should Not Be, Yet Is! I would have probably finished it today, but I ran into a few issues with TJB.com and associated websites that took my full attention. A couple of people who know who Blog Boy is decided to get all rowdy. Probably the psychic influence of Lughnassadh. Everyone wants to don a kilt, paint themselves blue, and show their arses on Lughnassadh! I've got an hour and 10 minutes to go as I write this. After that, everyone needs to calm down so I can finish this story or I'm gonna snap, don war paint, and start blowing things up starting with the crazy people who've made this day sooo enjoyable for me.

Now... I am going to write until I pass out, whenever that is. Someone needs killin' and I aim to make it happen no later than tomorrow! The writing is going much more easily this time, I guess because I'm wanting to write this particular story. And I've always been a big fan of prequels, and that's what this is, so there you go.

And, and as marker... apparently I am now a bad ass.
tinhuviel: (Joker_Upside Down)
I got a tad side-tracked and never posted the final date story here. Yeah yeah, I know, 'The Final Date' was supposed to be my final date, but things happen. This is the last one but, chronologically, happens after 'The Goth Chick's Date (aka the One that Got away)' because J has his iPod (from the dentist), but he doesn't have his hedgehog yet. I never formally introduced Sidney. Since this was my only chance to do so, I did. Sidney was originally conceived as a one-shot character, based on Sidney Poitier. Mr. Poitier starred in one of my patriarchal grandmother's favourite movies, Lilies of the Field. The movie was about a fraggle of nuns and how Poitier's handyman character helped them out one Summer. When I wrote 'The Nun's Date,' the first thing I thought about was this movie; thus, the existence of Sidney. There'd been so many people who were fond of him, though, I kept him around much longer than the Joker ever would have.

Uhm...disclaimers. If you're easily squicked, don't read this mmkay? I don't know what else to say. Oh, it's probably full of typos and whatnot because I was in a mad rush to finish this Monday night and had no time to proofread. And I still haven't because I've been too busy with other stuff. If you notice anything hideous, give me a shout so I can change my file. I doubt I'll change it here because HTML makes it very difficult to find the offense in question.

One thing's for certain, writers' withdrawal sucks. This is second day and, already, I'm missing this character. If I can make to Saturday, though, I should be okay and can turn my attention back to The Blood Crown. I've no doubt I'll make it without giving in this time, though. Fellow J-fic aficionados: consider Tin officially retired with this story. Whee!

Props go out to Kanike, who helped with the word association therapy and with naming the psychologist. Oh, and many thanks for the therapy in general. It’s a difficult job being a psychopath…..on paper that is. Ha.

Also many props go out to Gunslingaaahhh, Masquedbunny, MsManagr, RevClaudia, Opal Lynn, and Mldrfan, who offered support and suggestions regarding the Heath references and phobias. Special props go to Guns, who offers up all manner of Heath education I did not possess prior to this operation. I swear, J would never have a date if it weren’t for his harem of willing supporters.



cut for fake courtesy )

Five Words

Jul. 18th, 2009 01:59 pm
tinhuviel: (Eddie)
Since I am now missing my fanfic deadline with a vengeance, I figured I'd enjoy myself whilst doing so. [livejournal.com profile] chris_walsh, a relatively new pal here on LJ, sent me five words that make him think of me so I can give him my take on them. After you read my yammering about the five words he gave me, you can comment on this post and I'll give you five words so you can do the same. Ain't that more fun than a snorkel of weasels? I think so!

So here we go...


  1. [livejournal.com profile] therealljidol: I was a competitor in the first season of LJ Idol when there were like 3 people fighting like emaciated canines over the chicken bone that was the title of LJ Idol Winner. Being the vicious dog that I am, I won the competition. Since then, LJ Idol has become somewhat of a phenomenon not only on Live Journal, but also on the Internet, being one of those sublime occurrences that allows people to stretch out their writer's muscles while making new friends. It's not just a competition for writers; it's a gathering place for creative people who who want to be a part of something that helps define the word groovy. Even though I know there's no way I could ever win, not with all the talented individuals vying for the title now, I'd still love to be a part of the competition, just for the heck of it. Actually, I do participate on the peripheries of the competition. If there's a prompt I feel compelled to write on, then I will. I get to enjoy the writerly aspects of the competition without stressing over the competitive aspects. Fae Publishing is in the process of producing a book showcasing the best of what LJ Idol has had to offer over the years. I'm happy to say I'm a part of this undertaking. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd be able to say "Yo! I'm a published writer!" because of something [livejournal.com profile] clauderainsrm, of all people, would cook up out of that demented can of potted meat he calls a brain. I guess that means I have to be all grateful to him, for at least the next ten minutes. So, Gary? Thaaaaanks...

  2. Spork: Ah the Mighty Spork! I like to say the word 'spork' almost as much as I do 'weasel.' And the mere thought of a weasel with a spork sends my imagination into never-before-explored regions of full-on hilarity. It's like something Eliza Doolittle would be forced to repeat constantly before going on that cotillion date with Professor Higgins: "A snorkel of weasels must spackle with the spork when it rains in Spain all the zippity-doo-dah-day!"

    If I ever opened a restaurant, I would name it the Golden Spork and I'd have a giant spork out front like the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey. It would greatly amuse me to see patrons of my establishment react to my giant spork in much the same way the apes did the monolith in the Kubrick film.

    Then, of course, there's the entire re-writing of the Spoon scene in The Matrix to better fit the whole Spork Motif. Yes, there's a Spork Motif. At least, there is now. Here on the Cliffs, we're all about sporks and weasels. Don't ever forget it.

  3. Buttah: I have an aunt on the Mother Unit's side of the family who is the epitome of Mike Myers' Coffee Talk lady. She even gets verklempt. That's really apropos of nothing except for the fact that the Coffee Talk lady declares things she admires to the utmost to be like buttah. I tend to do the same. If I mention that something is like buttah, I really like it. If I state that something "is like a big stick o'buttah," that pretty much means it's so awesome, it will clog your arteries with nothing but pure win. For instance, the Gorillaz are like buttah, but Shriekback is like a big stick o'buttah. Law & Order is like buttah, but Law & Order: SVU is like a big stick o'buttah. Han Solo is like buttah, but Darth Maul is like a big sexy stick o'buttah! Dig?

  4. Fanfic: That thing I'm not writing at the moment and it may be too late to even finish it now. We'll see. I actually just learnt that people write fanfiction about actual living, breathing people. Like this one chick on Twitter writes Green Day fanfiction. I don't think I could ever do such a thing. My fanfiction has to be about fictional characters only, thankyouverymuch. And, believe it or not, I've not written that much fanfic. My first sojourn in that realm of fandom was writing Darth Maul fanfic back in 1999 and 2000 for the Darth Maul Estrogen Brigade. My second fanfic outing has been Joker fanfiction, mainly the Date Series, written for Rancid Rainbow. The majority of my fanfic has been erotic, but that's not to say all of it is erotic. A couple of my Maul fics were comedies and some of my J-fic has ranged from Jungian/occultish to dreadfully misanthropic. I even collaborated on a fiction, which I usually never do. It resulted in the first of a two part 'interview' written by [livejournal.com profile] dandyxrandy and myself. Writing fanfiction helped break a horrible block with which I'd been struggling back in 1999, so I figure I will always return to the medium as inspiration strikes because it's it's too fun not to dabble with and it really helps work on the writer bone.

  5. Izzard: One of my greatest heroes and quite possibly the most quotable human being on the planet. When [livejournal.com profile] green_goblin7t introduced me to Eddie Izzard, I was instantly in awe and in love. The man is a brain in a frock. Simple as that. Really, words just fail me when it comes to Eddie Izzard. He's....my hero!

tinhuviel: (Maul - snarky)
This needs posting.

I think I'm developing...mad kid skillz.

I got Aunt Tudi to the hand doctor and decided to sit next to the massive saltwater fish tank in the waiting room because I have a deep love for fish (this has nothing to do with Barry Andrews' fish fascination..it's a coincidence). I hadn't been sitting a full minute when this woman comes in with her 3.5 and 4.5 year old girls. They both ran squealing to the tank, about a foot away from me. I just know I'm gonna end up with a cold. Those kid-things are walking germ factories. So they started tapping on the glass and acting like idiots despite their mother telling them to stop. I couldn't be angry with the mother, she was in a cast and couldn't very well jerk their little asses up and put them into seats. Still though, if the mother had been doing her job all along, the kids wouldn't have been so out of control.

Just when I was about to get really pissy with them, because I don't tolerate animal abuse, and tapping on a fish tank is abuse as far as I'm concerned, I saw a clown fish emerge from behind the coral. I said in my sweetest voice, "Hey! Ever see Finding Nemo?" And I pointed the hapless fish out to them.

"Nemooo!" they screeched in chorus, and my head just rattled, but I kept my cool.

"Yeaaah, it's a Nemo fish! Now, you remember when Nemo was captured and put in a fish tank just like this?"

"Unh-huh!"

"And do you remember how the fish got all freaked out when people would tap on the glass of the fish tank?"
"Uh-huh..." Their voices were smaller this time.

I nodded at the fish and looked really sad. Then I said, "Well, you're kinda freakin' the fish out, including Nemo there." And I cocked my head in the clown fish's direction. They sobered up immediately. The mom mouthed a 'thank you' at me. Wha?

The rest of our lov-er-ly time together was spent with their hands behind their backs as they asked me questions about the various fish in the tank. The mom was called back before Aunt Tudi because we got there a little early and the mom apparently had an earlier appointment time. She called her girls to come with her to the back and the eldest got right in my face and said, "You have pretty eyes!" Then she ran off.

So I didn't have to kill any children today and one of them is apparently a Goth in the making. Sa-weet. I took some pictures of that tank by the way, but I don't have time to upload them right now. Maybe tomorrow.

Now back to my regularly-scheduled whatever.
tinhuviel: (Joker Innocence)
I have apparently been living on a large rock over the past few years, because Massive Attack have never shown up on my radar until [livejournal.com profile] paisleydaze showed me the error of my ways by revealing "Dissolved Girl" to me the other day. I did a search on You Tube to find other gems and found the first version of "Angel" you see here just a few hours before [livejournal.com profile] paisleydaze sent me the version right below it. I adore this song and I particularly adore that the maker of this video used excerpts from Vampyr: Der Traum des Allen Grey, but I'm torn because the second video is so beautifully edited to make the song fit with The Dark Knight. I think, though, I'm gonna have to go with Vampyr because I'm rather fond of crazy old German vampire movies and the second clip shows a little too much of Christian Bale for my taste, even though I adore the J clips (like I would).

But you be the judge.





I can't thank [livejournal.com profile] paisleydaze enough for turning me on to this band. I think the world may end if they ever collaborated with Shriekback.
tinhuviel: (Joker_Glare)
I hate it when LJ truncates my posts. I should be allowed to submit any size a post I wish! I've got a permanent account, dammit! That should count for something! Okay, enough ranting. On to part two.

we left the clowns kissing... )
tinhuviel: (Joker_Bitch)

Written primarily for Kanike ([livejournal.com profile] rancid_rainbow ) as a gift for her relaunch of the refurbished shiny new version of Rancid Rainbow, this is kind of a bonus Date Night story. I’m thoroughly uncertain if any more Date Nights are forthcoming. Since I thought the series was finished, this was as much a surprise to me as anyone else who might be reading it. I kind of broke my brain writing this. Those in the know, know why and should take appropriate pity on me. In the timeline of dates, I’d say this one would fit in between “The Singer’s Date” and “The Banker’s Date,” since its definitely pre-“Final Date.”

Thanks goes to [livejournal.com profile] baxaphobia and [livejournal.com profile] lindseybits for enabling my “My Sharona” fetish for this story. The song is now ruined for me.

It should be noted that the Chaplin reference was written prior to certain revelations. That was just a freaky coincidence. But I couldn’t change anything because Tramples had been too ingrained in my writer-brain for me to rewire myself. I hate it when that happens.

Musician shout-outs go to the Bay City Rollers, the Knack, Jelly Roll Morton, Queen, Billy Joel, the Steve Miller Band, VAST, Frankie Valli, Concrete Blonde, Sarah McLachlan, the Everly Brothers, and the Scissor Sisters.

Movie shout-outs go to Beetlejuice and Tod Browning’s Freaks (thanks for the Scar Story!)

The Clown's Date, Part 1 )

tinhuviel: (Joker_Glare)
Equilibrium comes on Sci Fi this weekend. It has three of my favourite actors in it: Taye Diggs, Sean Pertwee, and William Fichtner. BUT...it also stars Christian Bale. Now, do I try to look over that glaring flaw and attempt to watch the movie, or do I throw holy water on my TV at movie's air time and curl up with a good book instead?
tinhuviel: (Caveman)
Got about four hours of very weird sleep under my belt. It was as though I were paralysed and in more of an unconscious state than actually being asleep. I woke up in the exact same position in which I fell asleep. I never even got to the Kevin Spacey portion of Se7en, which means I'll be terrorising Aunt Tudi with that movie sometime today. Se7en gives her seven shades of the creeps, which kinda makes me laugh and want to watch it in the living room as often as possible. Because I'm evil. BWAHAHAHA! In all seriousness, I need to get my sleep patterns back to some semblance of normalcy. I treat my lips with Lip Medex every night because I have trouble with chapped lips, but I can't bear to have anything on them when I'm awake. So my lips are extremely chapped, and I keep licking them as a result. The more I lick, the more chapped they get. Pretty soon, my lips are going to fall off.

I'm currently indulging in some hot milky English Breakfast tea and a dollop of chicken and rice. This is not the Breakfast of Champions; rather, it's the Runners-up Brunch. Later on, I'll be having the Supper of Losers. It just gets worse as the day goes along. If I happen to be up at midnight, and I probably will be, I'll have the Midnight Snack of Utter Fail. If I'm up later than that, and it's more than a little likely, I may sneak a bit of a Wee Hours of the Morning Munch of I Wish I Were Dead. And the days bleed into one another.... At least I have new designations for my body refueling interludes.

Oh, speaking of Aunt Tudi, I almost have her persuaded to make a webcam recording, so all you goons who aren't in the South can hear what a real Southern accent sounds like. I've muted mine considerably, but Aunt Tudi has just let herself go when it comes to the Southernisms. It's like I have a freakin' Steel Magnolia living with me. Barry Andrews fell in love with her accent when we all met. It was the only time I regretted working on ridding myself of the stigma of a thick accent. There's still the assumption, even amongst many Southerners, that a thick Southern accent is indicative of stupidity. That couldn't be further from the truth. I've met many a Southern idiot who barely had an accent and, by the same token, I've encountered highly intelligent individuals who sound like Gomer Pyle. When I started working on my accent in my teens, though, I was eschewing All Things Southern and was hellbent on embracing a higher form of English. Considering the area in which I live, I think I've done pretty well.

Today is the Harpist's birthday. He turns 43 today. For some reason, I keep getting reminders about his birthday every years. It's as though some dreadful deity gets a sick glee out of twisting the psychic knife of sorrow in my heart. So I won't be listening to Celtic music today, but I wasn't planning on it anyway. Today is a Shriek day, dedicated to catching my slack ass up on my writing goals. That said, I'll be around sporadically, since I'm gonna focus all my attention on The Blood Crown.

First, though, Aunt Tudi wants to see the latest turgid episode of The Joker Blogs because you know all too well I got her addicted to them.
tinhuviel: (It's Teh Alpaca Lips!)
I tried, but I can't. At least I have free HBO. Watching David Lynch's Dune. It's hokey and weird, but there are so many perfect scenes in it, involving Brad Dourif in particular. "It is by will alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the juice of Sapho that thoughts acquire speed, the lips acquire stains, the stains become a warning. It is by will alone I set my mind in motion." ::sip:: Even though the Sci-Fi production of Dune was more true to the book, I still prefer David Lynch's interpretation. It's fun on so many levels and David Lynch is just plain weird, which is a good thing. Gods, I miss Twin Peaks! There was a show ahead of its time. The only thing rivaling its weirdness is LOST, which lives up to its name by making sure both the characters and the audience are thoroughly...lost. People ask me what LOST is about and I tell them "I have no idea. You have to watch for yourself and join me in my brutal, but oh-so-sweet confusion."

Babbling, I am! I'm so tired. Maybe I should try one more time. Maybe I should hit myself in the head with a cast iron frying pan.

Long Day

Jun. 14th, 2009 01:38 am
tinhuviel: (wwJDd?)
Driven by 'Daylight' by Matt and Kim, I've chewed the fat most all day with a variety of people. Got the new Blog up everywhere, with the help of [livejournal.com profile] gunslingaaahhh. I love this shit. LOVE. IT. It's like a revolution. Anyway, I now have 2500 words to write tomorrow, so I'm swearing off 'Daylight' because I just can't write Vampirically when t hat song is on. I want to flail about like a rag doll on a string and think happy thoughts, which is like the anti-Tin. So tomorrow, it's Shriekback, through and through. Cadmus has some issues with which to deal. And I still need to get those memories transferred from Kelat to Orphaeus. Oh, and [livejournal.com profile] dandyxrandy said she'd have The Interview (working title), draft 2.0/1 ready probably tomorrow, so I guess I'll be working on that as well. Aaaaand, I still have to write that review for "Nowhere, Nothing, Ever" for Barry. He needs incentive and, by the Mighties, I'm gonna give it to him if I can. Gods, it's a wonder I have any flesh on my fingers, I type so much.

I'm off to go find Smidgen and Shmoop and put them out for the night, then I'm going to bed. John Doe in all his Se7enish glory is my bedmate this good eve.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus)
This is whom I would want to play Cadmus.



Funny thing is, he's like the Anti-Cadmus in the real world, being all New Age-y and pro-Humanity. But he has had some acting experience in the past, so there's always that chance.... IF The Chalice were ever made into a movie.
tinhuviel: (Cadmus)

IF you die.

I've highlighted the ones I've seen in RED, of course. 38 out of 55. Not too shabbeh.

cut for kindness )

Random

Jun. 1st, 2009 09:59 pm
tinhuviel: (CadmusOrphaeus)
It's been decreed. I'm going to write at least 500 words a day on The Blood Crown for the month of June. Sort of a NaNoWriMo, but different. This is in addition to finishing the J-fic "To Whom It May Concern." So those here for the J-fics, don't get your panties in a wad. Hold on to your butts, I'm slow but sure, I promise.


I admire the folks on my list who blog for charity. If I could find a charity worthy of my rampant blogging, I'd do it in an instant. But human charities leave me cold for obvious reasons and that's why I leave such things in more capable hands. I don't think it'd..."appropriate"....for me to be writing every hour on the hour about how much I hate people and then ask for folks to donate to a charity that helps...people. Kinda hypocritic. So here's to you, people charity bloggers! It's Miller Time!


This laptop cooler thing is really working. The lappy is as cool as it was when I first turned it on. I think this is the key to our Magic Jack success.


Of all the movies out there, The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 is the one drawing my attention at the mo. I'm not big on Denzel Washington (too goody-goody) nor John Travolta (I was around during his 'Welcome Back Kotter' days waaaay before Pulp Fiction, which kinda redeemed him, but not all the way), but the movie just looks good. I love suspense flicks, especially when one mastermind villain is pitted against a regular Joe (not the plumber...). Am I too hard on actors? I mean, here I am being all picky about Denzel Washington and John Travolta only a few days after reaming Christian Bale. Should I just turn a blind eye and enjoy the show? I wish I could, but it's not in me. When I look at John Travolta, I see Vinnie Barbarino, and I saw enough of him back in the 70s. Yeah, I wasn't much of a kid. I was a smaller version of myself with a much smaller vocabulary. It should be of note that I'm just as loyal to the actors I do like, like Linus Roache. I sort of fell away from the original Law & Order, but I'll watch it now because Linus is in it. Herbert Lom is another. The man could do no wrong while he was still acting. Sharon Stone won my eternal love and devotion when I saw her kick the shit out of Ahhhnold in Total Recall. There are exceptions. Ahhhnold, for instance. I don't like him, but I love many of his movies. Total Recall is in my top ten favourites of all time. I'm rambling, aren't I? All I really wanted to say is that I think I'd like to see The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3.


Just a minute ago, I felt the most incredibly painful sting on my arm. Looking down, I spied a fire ant. I picked it up whilst outside feeding the cats. This sucks. Tomorrow, I get to mow the grass and then put environmentally unfriendly fire ant killer on the mounds. But mowing the grass is gonna be tricky because the ants have formed attack battalions and are already well-organised, which means I'll have to run, screaming, as I push the mower at turbo speed, hoping that I out-trot the armies of killer fire ants hot on my pathetic heels. And people wonder why I call this place the Armpit of Hell. Wonder no more!


It looks to be a bit of a sleepless night tonight. Already almost 10 PM and still no sign of sleepiness. The body is weary, but the mind just rolls on. Goddess help me! If I have Fatal Familial Insomnia, I'm going to jump off a big tall building.


Betty White is Goddess incarnate, isn't she?

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