ReadingLirael, As You Like It, The English Patient, Heart of Darkness, Suikoden III, Candidate for Goddess
Watching House, Rick Mercer's Monday Report, Gilmore Girls, Scrubs, Corner Gas, Aishiteruze Baby, Prince of Tennis, Hikaru no Go
Playing The Bard's Tale, Katamari Damacy, Curse of Monkey Island, Final Fantasy VI, Disgaea: Hour of Darkness, Pretty Barbie Dressup Party Final Fantasy X-2(group gaming)
Back-burner Star Ocean: Till the End of Time, Star Ocean: The Second Story, Final Fantasy Tactics: Advance, Baldur's Gate: Tales of the Sword Coast, Planescape: Torment, Final Fantasy VII
Obsessing Firefly, Erik and Ray, Impulse/Bart Allen, Ford Prefect, Monkey Island, Nostalgia.
Upcoming Things of Importance January 5 First day of classes January 14 Birthday party January 16 Jaryn and Matt Are Old Day
layout
Is by Meimi, that wonderful Goddess who brings joy and happiness to the hearts of Ingrids.
This time, Meimi brought joy by doing a layout of Isumi Shinichirou and Waya Yoshitaka, of Hikaru no Go. It is full of wub.
.
12/8/2001 05:43:30 PM
Even if I make Keiichi my bitch, we must all bow our heads in sad acknowledgement of the fact that we can never make blogger our bitch. Never. Feel the sadness.
12/8/2001 05:37:41 PM
. . .
Someday, I will make Keiichi (the computer, not the character) my bitch. I swear it.
I sat down today, after doing doodles of a highly Wrong nature, in the hopes of playing Grim Fandango and finally getting Meche out of that damn vault.
"Pleast Insert Disc A"
"Pleast Insert Disc A"
"Please Insert Disc A"
. . .
So I decide to try and play Final Fantasy VII again, to see if I can actually control the damn submarine.
"Please Insert Disc 1, 2, or 3"
"Please Insert Disc 1, 2, or 3"
"Please Insert Disc 1, 2, or 3"
. . .
So I decide to install Final Fantasy VIII and try it again, since I haven't since the last time my hard drive crashed and took my saved games with it.
"Oops! Wrong Disc!"
"Oops! Wrong Disc!"
"Oops! Wrong Disc!"
. . .
I am so making this computer my bitch someday.
12/8/2001 05:28:03 PM
I have read the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Those of you who don't want a rather aimless little anti-Rowlings rant should probably just avoid this entry. ^_^
I didn't actually -read- it. I had the first chapter typed up by a friend who dearly wants me to become a Harry Potter fan. When she had typed up the first paragraph, I thought it was the intro for a fanfic.
After getting through the entire thing, I can't help wincing. I know it's a children's book, and I know it's meant to be humourous, but that doesn't mean heavy handed. It was horribly heavy handed. And I despise one dimensional characters, and the authors who make them one dimensional. If you're going to make them awful Evil Mean people, then for the love of God, don't make us read about them for no reason.
I'm irritated with Bad people being portrayed as overweight. I'm irritated with authors who feature the Mean Relatives. But I'm even more irritated with the fact that they don't even try to portray the parents of a bratty child in a realistic manner. No, really, it's unspeakably annoying, especially when you've known some truly awful, spoilt children. I have never met any parents who dote on their child to the point of dillusion. Most who have uncontrollably brats tend to be rather exhausted, worn out people, or very short tempered ones. If they dote, it's in hopes of keeping the child happy, and tend to stop doting very quickly once the child becomes very bratty.
The Evil Cousin also seems to be a staple of children's fantasy. The Evil Cousin also tends to be overweight. I wonder why. The boy, Dudley, reminds me strongly of one character in particular. Eustace Scubb, of The Voyage of the Dawn Tredder by C. S. Lewis. Spoilt, insufferable, rude, cruel to his cousins. Rather like I'm sure Dudley will turn out to be. The difference? Eustace was a main character in the story, was insufferable for a reason, and didn't -stay- insufferable.
Or maybe it's just that he wasn't described as looking like a beach ball at any point in the book.
The other thing is that the first chapter completely ruins what I love about children's fantasy. The fact that it's usually different from adult fantasy in one main way. Most children's fantasy starts off with a child living a completely normal life. Sometimes a nice happy life, sometimes less so, but in almost all the children's fantasy I've read, it's a normal life. None of the Destiny that adult fantasy usually contains. Completely innocent and unawares before being thrust into an unbelieveable situation.
Harry Potter would have that, I don't doubt. If it weren't for the bloody first chapter that tells the reader off the bat that Harry isn't a normal, ordinary kid. I mean, of course, you know but you don't -know- know. So instead of starting off at the second chapter with Harry being however old he is, living a life that's making me wonder whether or not the UK has Social Services, we get the first chapter with it's lovely heavy-handed humour, stereotypes, and "The Boy Who Lived!"
Great. Just ruin the whole seemingly ordinary kid in extroadinary circumstances why don't you.
Yes, DWJ has spoilt me. She's written several books with horrible, awful, Evil (tm) relatives like The Ogre Downstairs, Eight Days of Luke, and Time of the Ghost (sort of). But, somehow, I don't mind the way I do in Harry Potter. Rowlings sets the reader up to hate the relatives based on her discriptions of them. DWJ tends to narrate from a limited point of view, and so we see the relatives through the eyes of the children in the story, which is fine. To a child, a stepfather like the Ogre -is- a scary, awful, horrible, cruel man. That's the thing. From a child's point of view, such perceptions are completely acceptable. But Rowlings isn't telling the first chapter from a child's eye. She's telling it from the omniscient narrator point of view. Which isn't the same at all and comes off . . . empty. The Dursleys aren't real. DWJ's Evil (tm) relatives -are- completely real. Everyone's known people like them.
Yes, I am comparing Rowlings to DWJ. Yes, I know it's unfair. That's what -I- keep saying and thinking and snarling over. But I'm going to do it because the only way to realize what an inferior writer Rowlings is is by examining the best in the business.
My friend insists that the story gets better after the first chapter. I'm dubious, of course. If I were reading the book of my own volition, I'd have closed it half way through the first chapter and never looked back. It's painfully bad stuff, those first however many pages.
This rant has been thoroughly justified. I can rant, because I've read. ~feels proud~
12/7/2001 06:23:40 PM
"I am Harry Potter and I have no pants on!"
Sometimes I love my brother.
12/7/2001 08:21:29 AM
X eight! Woohoo! In X episode eight Fuuma plays basketball, gets nice and sweaty, and . . . Kamui does not appear to indulge in a blatantly shounen-ai moment with backup from a metaphor for the world/Fuuma's love for Kamui. I guess there's a first for everything.
Flashback for those of us who can't remember the episode before Satsuki's side-story. Yawn.
Karen's hot. Karen's so hot. Karen is unspeakably hot. ~coughs~ Whether she is dressed for church or wearing that cute little bodice and stockings to a funeral, Karen is hot. I love Karen's voice, it's so low and soft and sexy and really sounds like the voice of a mature woman. Kickass!
Monou 'tousan has not been forgotten like Nataku's Grandfather was in the anime. Nope, after about four episodes of languishing in the hospital, he finally dies and chooses his dying moment, when he could have told Fuuma at any other time he was awake, that Fuuma is Kamui's . . .
Gemini!!!!
Dear bloody God, he -said- it! My head is still spinning from the shock. Now if only Kamui and Fuuma could figure out what a Gemini was. ~snorts~ It's a bit of a change, I've gotten so used to twin star, but I guess Gemini isn't a bad translation, since that's what Gemini is. I can live with it.
Tokiko isn't dead, despite burning car and broken glasses. Drat. I was hoping my theory about Kotori being the shinken was right. Boo on you, Tokiko.
Seishirou is now the "blossom star." I'm sorry, did anyone else die of laughter when Sorata said that? Not only is he wearing pastel shirts, but he's the "blossom star." At least he didn't have to say what he said in Viz's famous translation of his spells in volume six. ~snerks~ Dark omnyoujitsu looks so damn cool animated. Now for our poster boy of angst next episode. This should make the Tokyo Babylon fangirls happy.
Fuuma comes in, saves Kamui and Kotori from the dreaded blossom star, and indulges in a moment that makes up for the fact that Kamui didn't appear to play with Fuuma's ball earlier in the episode. Fuuma gets to lie on top of Kamui, tenderly hold him with great brotherly concern, and tell him he's Kamui's Gemini in a sexy evil Fuuma voice, while touching him in a way that's a hint of things to come.
I'm actually still feeling rather mournful that they seem to think that the only way to allow shounen-ai moments in the anime is by cutting out most hints of feelings between Kotori and Kamui. I mean, they're there, but Kamui seems to spend most of his time gazing wistfully in the direction of Fuuma . . .
12/7/2001 05:59:19 AM
I've been in a program called French Immersion since kindergarten. Basically, it's an attempt by the Canadian school board to familiarize the french language to an extent beyond "Je suis dans le discothèque," along with outside the Catholic School System. It's a relatively new program in the public school system. The first graduates here in Prince Albert only graduated from grade twelve in the mid-to-late-nineties. Last year, a new, easier, revolutionary way was introduced to gain the elusive French credits without being bothered by such tedious classes as Traitement d'information and Français Integré A et B.
Independent French Immersion.
Independent French Immersion is a "course" where students choose one of four or five offered subjects, and are given a text book/stack of photocopies/loose intstructions, and teach themselves, essentially. Of course, the art students have to follow the teacher's guideline and hand stuff in so that it may be marked by the teacher, and other students have to write tests and things, but the classes are, in a nutshell, Independent and Self Taught(tm).
In Carlton Comprehensive High School, the grade twelve math program has been creatively named Math A30, Math B30, Math C30, and Calculus.
Through Independent French Immersion I am learning Mathématiques B30. Math. In French. It's damn hard, one of the hardest courses I've ever had to take, because of how badly written some of the textbook translations are. It's also very difficult because the classroom is full of loud grade eleven students taking art (and doing very badly in it, lazy asses) and because my muchly worshipped math teacher, Madame Donahue, is recovering from surgery. So things have been rough going the last few weeks.
Early this week I wrote a test on functions and polynomial equations. Still don't know how I did but, eh.
There are two other girls in my class who are constantly well behind me material wise. They wrote the test yesterday. Our substitute teacher, Monsieur Lachapelle, was away, and so we had a sub, who allowed the other two girls to write their tests together, in the same room, without any supervision.
I'm sure we can all figure out what happened . . . Graphing calculators (not allowed because you could answer pretty much every question without knowing anything if you have one) were taken out, answers were compared and exchanged, and cheating fun was had by all.
Ah, ethical problems.
I've managed to survive in high school without once having my face turned into a bloody pulp, because I don't make waves. I don't say anything, don't do anything, don't attract attention. Essentially, I am a little invisible blot gently disrupting and reflecting light rays (yay, physics!) And I know, if I bring up this question of cheating, I won't be able to remain an invisible blot. French Immersion is a tightly knit group. We usually have one class together every semester. There's no love lost between my classmates and I, and telling the teacher that they were cheating (earning them a glossy little zero), could effectively mean my life until graduation will be living hell.
There's also the fact that if they care, it presents a delectable opportunity for blackmail (yes, I am an evil conniving manipulative person, shut up). Or not.
Oh yes, and despite the fact that they conversed intently on the subject of question answers and had the aid of graphing calculators, they still think they failed. Does anyone else think that's just unspeakably sad?
Okay, I'm done now.
- This rant was brought to you by lack of sleep, intense bitterness, and orange spice black tea
12/6/2001 10:44:00 PM
Dear you need to go, find a good fanfic writer, and ruthlessly addict them. It's the only answer in these troubled times.
And I have to agree . . . shounen-ai just isn't right for whatever's going on in Akira's weird, fractured little mind. Maybe at first, when it was just his obsessive-compulsive pursuit of Hikaru, but not -after- Hikaru played like such a dumbass.
Lots of reasons to speculate why. Maybe he's going all out because he thinks Hikaru was faking it. Maybe he senes the potential Sai does in him. Maybe he's just a totally whacked, obsessive little boy.
Who knows, maybe it's a combination of it all. He heard what Hikaru said about becoming pro, about picking up a few titles for the cash. Hikaru's casualty and irrelevance towards Akira's cherished Go, but his apparent apptitude. He does have potential, Sai says so (and we all believe Sai ;), and perhaps from those few games Akira's played with him when it was Sai playing, who we'll assume Hikaru has the potential to be as strong a player as, Akira's afraid of what Hikaru will be able to do when he's able to channel his talent for every game. And Hikaru's actually -trying-. He's become an insei (admittedly a low ranking one), and he's still a dumbass when it comes to go, but he's -trying-. Akira may be simultaneously terrified and hopeful that Hikaru will be able to rise to his level, or above him, someday, and be a genuine rival for obtaining the Hand of God.
Or not. Why aren't I in bed?
12/6/2001 10:22:12 PM
Touya Akira is seriously one very twisted young boy. He seemed so -sweet- before Hikaru beat the crap out of him. Well, Sai. Whatever.
And I wrote what I think was the easiest test in the history of history. I had to have gotten a hundred on it.
Now - watch me fail!!!
And I really, truly have nothing witty to say.
Dear God, have I really been awake since five?
12/5/2001 12:21:59 PM
Would you plot bunnies sod off?!!!!
12/5/2001 12:07:00 PM
Meimi-san thank you. Now I can just go and delete the fic from my mailbox and won't have to taint my eyes with reading it. That's right, the ShigurexKyou fic -is- completely real and yes you should hide.
For some reason, Bell-sama, there has been a sudden explosion of Fruits Basket fanfic over the past, um, week or so. I haven't read any of it. It's just sitting in my inbox, like most fanfic does, lurking there and waiting to be deleted, unread, when I'm bored. It all looks very very bad. ~sigh~ Maybe I should be greatful no one's written the ShigurexAkito fic I want . . . At least, I hope it hasn't been written. -_-;;
I figure it has to do with the fact that a lot of fangirls have become interested in the series lately but all they know about it and the characters is what they read on summary pages, or what's been in the few episodes bakaMX has subbed (I wish seven and eight would wooooork), or have seen lots of the anime and manga, but are just looking at all the pretty pictures, and not bothering to find out what is actually going on . . .
Ingrid - cynic and not much of a fangirl
12/4/2001 12:19:04 PM
Carnelian Galasia Ignatius. Bless you Baby Centre
Bugger! I didn't know The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents was out already! ~bangs her head on the desk~ I've had two aunts call over the past week or so to ask me what I wanted to Christmas. I told the one in Calgary I wanted The Fire's Stone by Tanya Huff (the world's most unfindable book) and the one in Toronto, who's a rich crazy bobo (bourgeois-bohemian), that I wanted American Gods. I wouldn't have asked for it if I knew about The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents!!!!!! ~groans~ I doubt we can find it here in Prince Albert, or Saskatoon for a few months yet, but I'm sure we could find American Gods. Damn damn damn damn!
12/4/2001 12:10:51 PM
No english assignments to worry about (well, technically, there's a report, but it's not due until the eighteenth, and I can write it up in an hour or two), no math tests to worry about, no history projects to worry about, and unless Mister Suek's evil, no physics to worry about. This'll be a niiiiiiice night. Guthrie's out to piano, Mom and Dad probably have . . . stuff, and I can just sit up and write away and make the annoying ideas and plot bunnies go away.
Oh, wait, there may be a history test tomorrow . . .
Buggerit. ~yawns~ I have no study material and I never get lower than a ninety anyways.
Just because there's a temporary lull in my schedule does not give -anyone- permission to feed the plot bunnies though.
12/4/2001 12:03:17 PM
Either that math test was insanely easy, or I just bombed more than I have ever bombed in my life. I wonder which . . .
It took me abotu fifteen minutes to write . . . I think I'll just go hide in a corner now.
12/4/2001 06:23:03 AM
I got 93% on my physics test. I am Happy. I don't care if several other people got 97% and 98% and two hockey players got 99% and 100%. Don't care. I'm happy to have gotten 93%. It's the highest mark I've gotten yet on a physics test in Physics 30. I worked my ass off for that mark. It is good.
Now if only I can do as well on the functions test today . . .
12/4/2001 06:21:09 AM
I have to admit, I think I am now officially insane.
I had a dream . . . this morning. Which involved me, my mother, and my brother being persued by a family of disembodied ghosts and having strange anonymous phone calls that showed up on call display as being some kind of camp with a really long name. You'd scroll down and down and down and the continuation of the name would be there.
Then, inexplicably, the ghosts buggered off to go see this country singer who looked rather like Nanami from that episode with the cowbell . . . Also there were Yuki Eiri and Shindou Shuichi. It appears that Hiro and Suguru finally got fed up with Shuichi being . . . Shuichi, and quit Bad Luck, leaving Yuki to be Shuichi's backup. Or something.
For some reason the entire cast of Card Captor Sakura seemed to be there, with the exception of Syaoran and Eriol. Who were in a hotel room, doing NC-17 rated things (which, by the way, my subconcious actuall centered, there was a big pillow there for some reason, and all I could see was above Eriol's belly-button, and the top of Syaoran's head . . .), and Eriol was wondering aloud about whether or not he should dye his hair blond.
I think I need help.
12/2/2001 04:29:02 PM
I can't believe Uncharted Territory found itself first discarded from a public library, and then tossed into a used bookstore. Poor book. I'll keep you safe. ~pets it~ I read it during church, straight through practically. It's a grand total of one-hundred-and-forty-nine pages long. So good. Very funny. Connie Willis is damn incredible. I can't believe I didn't check her out until this summer. Gyah! Idiot, idiot, idiot!
Of course, I did spend the first sixty pages or so confused as to the narrator's gender . . . The power of the first-person-point-of-view when done -properly-.
Now for a good thorough re-reading of Archer's Goon. I'm still working up the courage to re-read Dogsbody and Black Maria. And I'm not under enough stress or taking enough medication to read Fire and Hemlock.
Must start reading this blog regularly. A Buffy fan, a Diana Wynne Jones fan who gets ranty over JKR, a Lois McMaster Bujold fan, yet another person who's searching for Sorcery and Ceceilia (which I begin to think is a mythical book . . .), and, and, and, kyaaa.
Someday, I swear, I will read one of those books. I'm sure it will be decent. And I can give myself a good deal of pleasure by doing a thoroughly tearing essay on it. Or not. ~coughs~ I suppose it depends on my mood.
