Movie night last night. We went to Chesh & Calli’s place, so that Chesh could show off his computer-controlled home theatre set up (‘Twas cool. I know the next thing I want him to do round here…) and watched the fabulously classic The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I don’t know what was more fun: a room full of fans singing along to every song in the movie, word perfect, or hearing PRK and myself do tone-perfect imitations of Columbia…

In just seven days, I can make you a maaaaaaaaannnnnn.

Too much fun 🙂

Followed it up with the second episode of Dr Who, courtesy of Splanky. Tell you what: it’s pretty good, and there’s a lot revealed about happenings since the Paul McGann abortion. Shan’t issue any spoilers at all, but you’re going to enjoy this one if you’re a fan.


Lyn’s ex-husband won’t let her kids come to Swancon because (direct quote) “it’s full of freaks and perverts.” So it had me rolling around the floor when we were sitting in the foyer waiting on wedding Saturday, and Blake had this exchange with a pal of ours.

LAURTON: (Coming over to sit and chat). Hey kids. Are you coming to the children’s programme tomorrow?
LEE: No, Jon won’t let the kids come to Swancon. Says it’s filled with freaks and perverts.
LAURTON: Hmmph. I’m not a freak, so I guess that makes me a pervert. (Pulls out a packet of Swancon XXX sweeties and offers them to Blake) Want a lolly?
BLAKE: (Grabbing one like his life depended on it). Well, I’m not allowed to take candy from strangers, but nobody mentioned anything about perverts.



So the Pope’s dead. Good. One head of an evil and repressive bureacracy down, the rest of them to go.


Edited 11 of the 25 stories in The Divergence Tree today. Another 9 tomorrow and it’ll be over and I can get back to some real writing.

Lyn’s wins and subsequent attention, coupled with my own inability to get anything new down (Don’t ask me how the novel’s going, just bloody don’t, okay?) have me itching to create something new. There’s nothing more frustrating than trawling through old stuff while your contemporaries (and loved ones) are forging ahead. Never mind getting back on the horse, I’m going to have to remember where the hell the stables are.


Received in the mail today: my DVD copy of the documentary The Gospel According To Philip K Dick. Dick’s one of my 4 writing cornerstones, along with Harlan Ellison, Alfred Bester, and Howard Waldrop. There is much restrained eagerness in my little body: 2 hours, a bottle of Diet Coke, and a notebook, that’s all I ask…


A big bouquet for Eric Heideman and the crew at Tales Of The Unanticipated. TOTU reprinted Father Muerte & The Theft last year, and I had high hopes for the sequel this year.

‘Twas not to be. I received the rejection in the mail today. But get this: it was 3 pages long. 3 handwritten pages. Single spaced, no margins, and cramming two lines into the top bit where there’s that large gap with no lines. As rejections go, it’s the most complete, extensive, beyond-the-call-of-duty slip I’ve ever received.

Did I mention that there isn’t a single line in the whole thing that causes even a shadow of a sook?

Do you reckon I’ll be sending them something again this year?


Sucks. It’s unfunny, derivative (large parts of the plot seem to have been lifted wholesale from A Bug’s Life, for starters), the characters are actively annoying, and the creators have spent all of 2 minutes working out how to make the world a logical extension of the robot theme. All the things that make animated features of this type, such as the above, or Monsters Inc, enjoyable are lacking in the extreme.

In other words, it sucks.



Sometimes you see something that causes you to not only doubt your ability as a parent, but brings into question the welfare of your child in such a way that you have to seriously question whether you have caused such irreparable harm that your child will be a scarred and damaged person for the rest of their lives. Sometimes, no words are adequate to describe the evil that you have visited upon an innocent mind.

Today, I heard my daughter singing along with Jona Lewie’s Stop The Cavalry.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

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