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Below are the most recent 11 friends' journal entries.
| Wednesday, June 19th, 2013 | ||
| copperbadge | 5:57p | EGGPLANT! Or if you prefer AUBERGINE! I have sliced and salted my eggplant. Spongy motherfuckers, aren't they? Anyway, at the moment all the little eggplant-fries are sitting in a colander, coated in an entire shaker's worth of salt. Later, they shall roast. Indeed. Well, I might pan-fry a couple just to see. This is a very labour-intensive vegetable. Oddly enough, I usually smell vegetables very strongly -- walking into a Subway sandwich shop is like plunging my face into a bucket of shredded lettuce -- but this eggplant appears to have no odor at all. Maybe that means it has no flavour, which would honestly be a nice break for me. In the meantime I cooked some bacon and reheated some portobello slices in the toaster oven and had a portobello and bacon sandwich. HEALTHY. |
| Monday, June 17th, 2013 | ||
| copperbadge | 6:13p | LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY DAY and how I almost got into a shouting match with hotel customer service. Wait, no. Let me present you a fanfic instead.  Title: Exclusive Rating: PG Summary: Heroes In Manhattan: From Captain America's Hidden Talents To The Truth About The Hulk, We Debunk The Myths And Expose The Daily Lives Of The Avengers. Warnings: Some discussion of childhood trauma and depression. Here at Dreamwidth | Here at AO3 |
| copperbadge | 11:35a | As with many of the books that I have in digital format on my "traveling" laptop, I don't know where Calico Joe by John Grisham came from. But I read it. Because, as the great Edmund Hilary said, it was there. The thing about my experience of reading Calico Joe is that somehow I mixed up the author. I know who John Grisham is, I've read other books by him, but with the file open and the author not evident I managed to get it into my head that this book had been written by Stephen King -- I think I mixed it up with The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon. Which did lend a delightful air of anticipation to the story. I kept waiting for some monsters to show up. Despite the fact that the monsters never did show up, Calico Joe was a pretty interesting read. It's told from the point of view of a man named Paul Tracey, the son of Warren Tracey, who in this fictional world was a pro baseball player for the Mets. And the rest of the summary is a bit of a spoiler, so I'll put it behind a cut. The narrator's father, Warren Tracey, threw a beanball that ended the career of a massively popular young rookie, Joe Castle, and this event is the central driving force of the narrative. "Calico Joe" was famous for the way he exploded into pro ball, playing for the Cubs, and after Warren Tracey beaned him, he was unable to continue playing -- he had some brain damage, and lost most of the vision in one eye. As my father stood on the mound and looked in at Jerry Grote, my heart froze and I couldn’t breathe. I managed to say to my mother, “He’s gonna hit him.” The beanball went straight at Joe’s helmet, and for a second, for a long, dreadful second that fans and writers would discuss and debate and analyze for decades to come, Joe didn’t move. --ch. 12 The story is really Paul-the-narrator's story, about growing up in the shadow of his well-known father and then having to deal with the fallout after Warren takes down Joe Castle. In the present day, having heard that his father is dying of cancer, an adult Paul, now a father himself, decides to try and induce a reconciliation: to bring his father to Calico Rock, where Joe has lived since leaving baseball, so that Warren can apologize to Joe. It's also about Paul making peace with his angry, abusive father, and his difficult relationship to baseball because of it. And then Willie Mays sat down beside me on the bench as if time meant nothing. He said, “I can’t remember your name.” “Paul Tracey,” I said. “Nice to see you again, Paul.” --ch. 10 The book is an odd combination of kitchen-sink drama and baseball history; most of the history is tied up in fiction, but there is a LOT of baseball writing in it, so it's not for people who don't like the sport. Wrigley Field had never been louder. The standing ovation roared until Joe took a step out of the dugout, tipped his cap, and acknowledged the adoring crowd. Then he blew a kiss at his mother, who was in the owner’s seats in the second row. --ch. 4 Joe is a charming protagonist for as long as we get him, and though you understand early on that he won't be the hero of the piece, he's still really fun to read about. It's so unutterably rare to get a decent, well-mannered, humble pro athlete in real life that finding one in the book was a pleasant surprise. It's a book clearly written for baseball fans, and it's a very male-oriented story -- people who are tired of the Daddy Issues trope will roll their eyes, and I did a couple of time to be sure. There's no major plot twists or conflicts; it's just a story about a man who wants his father to reconcile with his victim, rather than with his son. There was one amazingly unconscious passage that kind of soured the whole book for me, to be honest, because it caught me so off-guard: I did not want a boy, because I did not want to see him pick up a baseball and start tossing it around. Most of my friends have a boy or two, and they have all coached the game at some level. I am sure I would have felt the temptation to do likewise with a boy, so I am relieved to have all girls. --ch.3 In a book from the seventies this would have been less surprising, but the book is only partly set in the seventies, and based in the modern day. So the assumption that girls inherently won't gravitate to baseball was quite weird. I think it would have been a better book if Paul's daughters had been interested in baseball -- it would have created a throughline that might have allowed the frankly rather brittle Paul, who continually insists he's past what his dad did to him, to find actual reconciliation, instead of the stilted Joe-Warren reconciliation we got at the end. Final Verdict: Calico Joe is a book meant for baseball fans and it's a book very much about men and their relationships to each other. The exploration of Paul and Warren's life, and of the way baseball has been played in the past, was less subtle than it could have been. But I have to admit I kept turning the pages and I never got bored with it, which is kind of rare for me. So -- flawed, but if you're in the mood for a sports-oriented tragedy, or if you like baseball history, it's a reasonably good read. |
| copperbadge | 8:09a | Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday! Ways To Give: Amy linked to an Indiegogo campaign for the brand new Kansas City Opera Institute, focused on bringing opera to Kansas City and providing professional development and exposure for young opera singers (college grads up to age 36) free of charge for participants and the public. . Ink linked to a grant campaign for Sport Social, an athletics program for people with autism. They've just recovered from an arson attack and are in competition to win a hundred thousand dollar grant, which would go a long way towards supporting and expanding their program. You can vote here to help them win the grant -- apparently they're competing with a motocross racing app for the money. Help For Free: Just For Fun: And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can always post items for my attention in comments here (or on any post) or email me at copperbadge at gmail dot com. If you're not sure how to proceed, here is a little more about what I do and how you can help (or ask for help!). |
| Sunday, June 16th, 2013 | ||
| copperbadge | 7:54a | I am SO CLOSE to closing out my reading list. Or at least, I THOUGHT I WAS. Turns out that the library is having trouble procuring for me the last half-dozen books on the list, but when I opened my netbook the last time I traveled, I was reminded that I have a "to read" file of digital books. Without an e-reader I find digital books rather difficult, but I've been slowly plowing through them with my netbook on the train in the mornings. As I wrote along, in long-hand at first, a whole army of little E’s gathered around my desk, all eagerly expecting to be called upon. But gradually as they saw me writing on and on, without even noticing them, they grew uneasy; and, with excited whisperings amongst themselves, began hopping up and riding on my pen.... -- Introduction (with e) I'm not sure where I picked up Gadsby from, but I had a PDF of it which came from somewhere. Gadsby is a book written entirely without the use of the letter E, which was a sterner proposition in the days before digital thesauri and "search document". Imagine being able to search a document and not find a single letter E. The technique is known as lipogram, and has been employed by other writers as well, including the French writer Georges Perec, who was apparently inspired by Gadsby. I tried to write a version of this review without the letter E and failed miserably. I need to go back and see how Wright compensated for not being able to use -ed. It is a story about a small town. It is not a gossipy yarn; nor is it a dry, monotonous account, full of such customary "fill-ins" as "romantic moonlight casting murky shadows down a long, winding country road."...it is an account of up-and-doing activity, a vivid portrayal of Youth as it is today... --ch. 1 As a start, Branton Hills’ “Daily Post” would carry a long story, outlining a list of factors for improving conditions. This it did; but it will always stay as a blot upon high minds and proud blood that not a man or woman amongst such capitalists saw, in his plan, any call for dormant funds. But did that stop Gadsby? Can you stop a rising wind? Hardly! --ch. 1 It begins with a middle-aged man named Gadsby who decides that his sleepy little town of Branton Hills needs some "fixing up". He recruits a number of high-school students to help him out, and with their aid he transforms the town into a booming urban metropolis, a sort of middle-America utopia. There are various trials and tribulations -- the first world war, a cranky city councilman, a young delinquent in need of rehabilitation -- but on the whole it's fifty thousand words' worth of easily solved problems. “Boys,” said Gadsby. “you can pat your own backs, if you can’t find anybody to do it for you. This city is proud of you. And, girls, just sing with joy; for not only is your city proud of you, but I am, too.” --ch.2 It is, admittedly, especially difficult to write dialogue without the letter e; expository prose forgives a lot that dialogue won't, in terms of twists of phrase. "It’s silly to squat in a hot room squinting at a lot of print! If you want to know about a thing, go to work in a shop or factory of that kind, and find out about it firsthand." "But, Bill," said Gadsby, “shops want a man who knows what to do without having to stop to train him." "Oh, that’s all bosh! If a boss shows a man what a tool is for; and if that man is any good, at all, why bring up this stuff you call training?" -ch.1 There's still something remarkably gripping about it, all things considered. And Wright clearly loves showing off his ability, writing about everything from speeches to public notices to newspaper ads. And there is, occasionally, some very pointed commentary: “Your Honor, Mayor of Branton Hills, its Council, and all you out in front:— If you would only stop rating a child’s ability by your own; and try to find out just what ability a child has, our young folks throughout this big world would show a surprisingly willing disposition to try things which would bring your approbation. A child’s brain is an astonishing thing. It has, in its construction, an astounding capacity for absorbing what is brought to it; and not only to think about, but to find ways for improving it. It is today’s child who, tomorrow, will, you know, laugh at our ways of doing things." --ch.2 All right. You want to know all you can about matching and crossing your stock, don’t you? I thought so. But God did all that, long, oh, so long ago; gradually producing such animals as you own today; and all you can do is to follow along, in your puny way, and try to avoid a poor quality of stock mixing with yours. This building contains thousands of God’s first works. It won’t do you a bit of harm to look through our rooms. Nothing will jump out at you!” --ch.13, discussing a museum There is also some unfortunate racism. At this point in Bill’s blow-up an Italian Councilman was passing, and put in his oar, with:- "Ha, Bill! You thinka your man can worka all right, firsta day, huh? You talka crazy so much for my boota! You lasta just a half hour. Thisa library all righta. This town too mucha what I call tight-wad!" --ch.1 My favourite character ended up being Gadsby's son, Bill the fop: Always in first class togs, without missing a solitary fad which a young man should adopt, Gadsby’s Bill was a lion, in his own right, with no girl in sight who had that tact through which a lasso could land around his manly throat. --ch.9 The story follows the Gadsby family and Branton Hills from a small town at the beginning of the 20th century to a booming interregnum metropolis, including the first world war, when the Youth of Branton Hills go off to fight. On a grand autumn morning Branton Hills’ “Post” boys ran shouting down Broadway, showing in half-foot wording: “FIGHTING STOPS!! HISTORY’S MOST DISASTROUS WAR IS HISTORY NOW!!!” and again, Branton Hills stood stock still. But only for an instant; for soon, it was, in all minds:- “Thank God!! Oh, ring your loud church clarions! Blow your factory blasts! Shout! Cry! Sing! Play, you bands! Burst your drums! Crack your cymbals!” --ch.31 Final Verdict: For people who are fond of novelty books or of books that play with prose, it's a fun read; there's not much depth to the story but the feat itself is well worth applauding. And because the prose is so fun, I'll leave you with Wright's description of the local county fair: Ah! It was a fair, I’ll say! What mobs on that first day! And what a din!! Bands playing, ballyhoos shouting, popcorn a-popping, “hot dogs’ a-sizzling, ducks squawking, cows lowing, pigs grunting, an occasional baby squalling; and amidst it all, a choking cloud of dust, a hot Autumn wind, panting, fanning matrons, cussing husbands; all working toward that big oval track at which all had a flimsy possibility of winning a million or two (or a dollar or two!). Oh, you County Fairs! You bloom in your canvas glory, annually. You draw vast crowds; you show high quality farm stock, gigantic pumpkins, thousands of poultry, including our “Thanksgiving National Bird”. You fill coops with fancy squabs, fat rabbits, and day-old chicks. You show many forms of incubators, churns, farming apparatus, pumps, plows, lighting plants for small farms, windmills, “bug” poisons, and poultry foods. And you always add a big balloon, which you anchor, so that kids may soar aloft until a windlass pulls it down. You fill us with food that would kill a wild goat, but you still last! And may you always do so; for, within your flapping, bulging canvas walls, city man rubs against town man, rich and poor girls bump, snobs attain no right of way, and a proud, happy boy or girl shows a “First Class” satin ribbon which a lovingly brought-up calf or poultry brood has won. -ch.14 |
| Friday, June 14th, 2013 | ||
| copperbadge | 5:44p | I HAVE PROCURED AN EGGPLANT. Well, Trader Joe's didn't have any cabbage. And really if you want to call it an Aubergine, it's overdue. I intend to make eggplant fries in the oven. And yes, I know about purging. Man, this vegetable may or may not be tasty but it sure is a pain in the ass. The artichoke was less trouble. Though significantly more expensive. Tonight, however, is sauteed portobello sandwiches smothered in brie. LOOK HOW ALMOST HEALTHY THAT WAS. Also my new laundry service delivered me some clean laundry. Fluffy! *rolls around in it* It's like the day of Reinforcing Why Sam Doesn't Want To Leave Chicago. |
| Thursday, June 13th, 2013 | ||
| copperbadge | 4:13p | I HAVE BEEN TRAINED. About half of it was useful, which is more than usual, to be honest. And during the parts I already knew, I could surf tumblr on my phone. I don't get a lot of depth out of Tumblr but I have to admit for immediate shiny distractions it's kind of hard to beat. I did LOL at the intro-to-profiles, which I didn't need but which did include using Bruce Wayne as an example. I suppressed the urge to point out that they left Damian Wayne off the "family members" portion. I thought possibly they did it because he's supposedly dead and I didn't want to get into the whole "living in denial, he's not dead, he's at summer camp" thing I've got going. I had a colleague presenting, and I feel as though I may need to send him a link to my Presentations For Introverts post from a while ago. He talked SO FAST. I mean I do that too, talk fast when I'm nervous, but I don't think I'm actually capable of talking as fast as he did. And then class was over and I got Wow Bao for dinner, yay. Though I'm going to have to wait a while to eat my delicious steamed bbq-pork-buns, since I ate lunch and I'm not accustomed to eating lunch. They did have roast beef sandwiches, but that sandwich Did Not Agree with me. At least I'm home now, so I can process all the stuff I learned and also take a nap. |
| copperbadge | 6:50a | I am off to training this morning. Hooray for professional development. I'm spending all day at a workshop on basic research skills, which hopefully will up my cred at work in terms of "Yes he really does want to be a researcher". It may need a bit of that lately. In terms of my professional life, 2013 has been a bit of a wash so far. I'm guessing, like usual, the workshop will be a combination of "Things I already knew" and "Things that are far beyond my current skill level". There doesn't seem to be much middle ground with me. I begin to wonder how the hell I learned anything in school. Maybe I'm getting dumber. :D In some ways that would be a relief, though I don't actually wish for it. Still, there's no denying if I'd used more points on charisma and less on intelligence I might be happier in life. But I do get to see my colleagues present on a project they've been working on, so that'll be nice, and they feed us lunch. Five bucks says the lunch options are grilled chicken sandwiches, deli chicken sandwiches, and vegetarian... |
| Tuesday, June 11th, 2013 | ||
| copperbadge | 11:19a | Me: Hello, Much Hated Coworker, I need information from you for this paper payment form you will be processing for me. Much Hated Coworker: Why are you still filling out paper payment forms? Me: Is there another option? Much Hated Coworker: Yes, we have a digital form now. Me: FINALLY. When did this happen? Much Hated Coworker: Oh, about six... I swore he was going to say weeks, which would have been bad enough, because I've been actively asking for a digital payment option for YEARS. Much Hated Coworker: ...months now. I meant to call you. Me: Six months, huh? Much Hated Coworker: We had some training classes for people who handle high volumes of financial stuff. Me: Okay, well, send me the URL, thank you. *hangs up* I'm going to kill him. Awkward Coworker: *approaches* Me: I'm going to kill someone today. It probably won't be you, but don't test me. Awkward Coworker: I can come back. Me: No, I won't be less homicidal later. URGE TO KILL RISING. Poor Awkward Coworker. |
| Monday, June 10th, 2013 | ||
| copperbadge | 8:25a | Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday! Short and quick this week... Jemima is a postgraduate researcher (and member of fandom) currently exploring the ways in which sexual assault is talked about in online fiction. She is conducting a survey of those who read fiction published non-commercially online, and she asked me to invite the Cafe to participate. I know people can be leery of scholarly surveys of fandom, but I've had testimony from a couple of friends that this is a really well done and respectful questionnaire. The front page discusses the content of the survey, though I would warn that rape survivors may find some questions triggery. And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can always post items for my attention in comments here (or on any post) or email me at copperbadge at gmail dot com. If you're not sure how to proceed, here is a little more about what I do and how you can help (or ask for help!). |
| Friday, June 7th, 2013 | ||
| copperbadge | 7:44p | Tonight was our annual Big Fancy Fucking Deal event at work, where we all have to volunteer to host rich people with no manners. I'm exaggerating. Some of them have manners. Kind of. I usually work an evening shift because they're held at fancy downtown bars where the food is, if not good, at least intriguing. Tonight's was actually very good; I had a slice of fig-prosciutto-parmesan pizza. Which means I have now seen the face of God. For the record, the face of God is fig-prosciutto-parmesan pizza. But I am so tired that aside from that slice of religious experience, I don't actually have the energy to put food in my mouth and chew. Apparently my receptionisting skills are rusty. I did make friends with the photographer, though. At least any photos I bombed will probably look good. One guy stood behind me with his back to me, wallflowering his ass off, for like an hour. I felt bad for him but at the same time STOP STANDING RIGHT BEHIND ME. Go stand behind the buffet! It's what I do! |