DINOSAURS ARE THE COOLEST
Now we can clone them, and build an army of intelligent killer dinosaurs to rub out those we don’t like, and the French, and those other ones we don’t like, and that guy……
(Sometimes two things show up on my flist one straight after the other, and I get all excited…..)
Song of the moment: My Dirty Life & Times Warren Zevon
Reading: Endangered Species Gene Wolfe
WHAT I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS
There seem to be a few Christmas wish list posts popping up here and there: I want this, get me that, validate me in this way…..
So, because, you know, I combine sheep and ego in equal measure:
I want an agent, and I want all my children, blood & bonus, with me for one day of peace and happiness. I want the world to leave us alone for one day.
IT WON’T MAKE ME READ ANY MORE OF HER BLOODY AWFUL BOOKS
Song of the moment: The Equestrian Statue The Bonzo the Dog Doo Dah Band
Reading: Still on that Marquez-edited gathering of fantastical ephemera. Odd little thing that it is.
So apparently Time have issued a list of the most significant SF/F novels from 1953 to 2006. Uh huh. Because Time are definitely who I choose to stream the cultural definers of my lifetime through….
I can’t say for sure that it’s the whole list, or what the criteria for choosing them was, because I’ve only seen this list on other people LJs. As one poster noted: a list with Brooks but no Leiber fails.
Still, to add to the fun, people have memed it: the idea is to bold the ones you have read, strike through the ones you read and hated, italicize those you started but never finished and put a star next to the ones you love. I might just do the first three, methinks. Read them yourselves, and find out whether you love them. That’s much more rewarding than taking my word for it. Do this thing, and I shall link to two comics at the end of this post to reward you.
1. The Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien
2. The Foundation Trilogy, Isaac Asimov
3. Dune, Frank Herbert
4. Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert A. Heinlein
5. A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. Le Guin
6. Neuromancer, William Gibson
7. Childhood’s End, Arthur C. Clarke
8. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, Philip K. Dick
9. The Mists of Avalon, Marion Zimmer Bradley
10. Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury
11. The Book of the New Sun, Gene Wolfe
12. A Canticle for Leibowitz, Walter M. Miller, Jr.
13. The Caves of Steel, Isaac Asimov
14. Children of the Atom, Wilmar Shiras
15. Cities in Flight, James Blish
16. The Colour of Magic, Terry Pratchett
17. Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison
18. Deathbird Stories, Harlan Ellison
19. The Demolished Man, Alfred Bester
20. Dhalgren, Samuel R. Delany
21. Dragonflight, Anne McCaffrey
22. Ender’s Game, Orson Scott Card
23. The First Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, Stephen R. Donaldson
24. The Forever War, Joe Haldeman
25. Gateway, Frederik Pohl
26. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, J.K. Rowling
27. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
28. I Am Legend, Richard Matheson
29. Interview with the Vampire, Anne Rice
30. The Left Hand of Darkness, Ursula K. Le Guin
31. Little, Big, John Crowley
32. Lord of Light, Roger Zelazny
33. The Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick
34. Mission of Gravity, Hal Clement
35. More Than Human, Theodore Sturgeon
36. The Rediscovery of Man, Cordwainer Smith
37. On the Beach, Nevil Shute
38. Rendezvous with Rama, Arthur C. Clarke
39. Ringworld, Larry Niven
40. Rogue Moon, Algis Budrys
41. The Silmarillion, J.R.R. Tolkien
42. Slaughterhouse-5, Kurt Vonnegut
43. Snow Crash, Neal Stephenson
44. Stand on Zanzibar, John Brunner
45. The Stars My Destination, Alfred Bester
46. Starship Trooper, Robert A. Heinlein
47. Stormbringer, Michael Moorcock
48. The Sword of Shannara, Terry Brooks
49. Timescape, Gregory Benford
50. To Your Scattered Bodies Go, Philip Jose Farmer
Now, because you’ve all been so patient, the links I promised:
A while ago I asked about some more online comics to pass my life away with, as I didn’t need to spend quite so much of my day catching up with Sluggy Freelance. Some lovely people posted me links, and I’ve trawled about a bit. And discovered some fun stuff. So, a couple of links to comics that I’m reading, and instances that made me laugh over the weekend:
And from Monkey Fluids, a one panel strip that has instantly become one of my all-time favourites, right up there with Gahan Wilson’s “Human Butcher” and Charles Addams’ “This Little Piggy” panels: Timmy Points
To quote Robert Bloch, I havent had this much fun since the rats ate my baby sister…
Shit. Now what do I do?
Song of the moment: Sorrow David Bowie. Woah, how appropriate…
ON THE SUBJECT OF PIMPING…..
Grant Watson is one of the most insanely talented men I know. Writer, actor, playwright, con organiser, lover, lap dancer, astronaut….
His latest project is a webcomic. Executive Bunnies takes some supporting characters from Grant’s The Angriest Video Store Clerk In The World comic book (plays, t-shirts, graphic novel, and TV pilot…) and gives them full reign in what promises to be an hilariously satirical take on movies, fandom, and anything else that strikes Grant’s badly swollen cortex.
Bookmark this one, coz it’s gonna be a keeper.
AND PRESENTS TO BOOT!
A fabulous Mother’s Day yesterday. Lyn made out like a bandit: two herbal candles from Blake, a round red ornament from Aiden that was immediately dubbed “The Eye of Sauron” (and is my personal favourite), a gorgeous bath set from Cassie she made up herself out of things she knew Lyn would like, and all the kids combined to get her a 6-cup coffee plunger ( necessary!) and a 3-pack DVD set of the documentary series Empires, covering the Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians.
We topped it off with lunch at Chatters, an Asian restaurant adored by Lyn and the kids, before we had to drop the children back at their father’s house.
Sometimes, the very perfection of an occasion can be what makes it terrible. Having to drop the kids off after such a wonderful day was twice as painful as normal. I can’t wait to get them back on Friday: we need a big weekend of fun, and they’re co-opted 🙂 After all, PRK‘s 30th birthday party is on Friday night, and the kids and he love each other’s company, so there’s a good start!
PAUL KIDD NEEDS TREATMENT
See? Told you so. I’d ring for the therapist myself, but I was too busy laughing my ass off.
THE MARCH TO GLORY CONTINUES
Take that, Kingsley. Who wants a piece of Bassendean Juniors, huh? Come on, who wants a piece of us? Huh? HUH?
Just give us the cup now and be done with it…
As an aside, one of the loveliest things about going to Aiden’s matches each week is his assertion to anyone that will listen that Connor is his lucky talisman, and that the team wins because Connor is on the sidelines. His showing off his little brother to his teammates is so damn cute!
KUNG FU HUSTLE AND BIG BROTHER
Thank God PRK bought over an insane Hong Kong film called Kung Fu Hustle to the Sunday Movie night last night, otherwise all I’d have had to entertain me was the opening episode of that piece of low vileness, Big Brother. Lyn loves it, which is the only reason I’m not stalking Dreamworld with a high-powered rifle right now. There is no lower example of the depth of human increptitude than this show. All involved should be burned at the stake so even the alien archaeologists can’t clone them.
There’s a much greater difficulty in good movie nights than bad. Everyone has a roughly similar view on what makes a movie bad, and how that can be entertaining. But what makes for a good movie, well, that’s a little more… personal. Which is why we’ve seen movies like Volcano High and Return To Oz in recent weeks, movies that leave me cold or indifferent, but which their owners love; and why movies I’d watch for pleasure, like Titus or Pi, have remained firmly shelved. One man’s meat is another’s two-hours-of-rhyming-couplets-kill-me-now…
Kung Fu Hustle, on the other hand, is so deliciously bad I was in tears from beginning to end with uncontrolled laughter, as were the rest of the crew. I needed it Perky, I really did…
ONE MAN, AND VEGETABLES
We did the shopping for the vegetable co-op yesterday. Seven shares, meaning everything had to be bought in multiples of seven. Off we toddled to the Malaga Markets. Lyn had control of the pram, so I had the task of taking boxes to the checkout to pay for them.
So I’m standing there, a bloke on his own, a large box of vegetables in front of him.
Halfway through emptying said box for the checkout girl, I become aware of just how many eyes are watching…. seven broccoli… fourteen bok choi… twenty eight mushrooms… seven bunches of spring onions…. I don’t see anybody with him….
I love confusing the normals 🙂
Then you can read everyone else’s 🙂
WHEN WRITERS COLLIDE
A fabulous dinner was had on Saturday night, when Martin Livings, Dr Iz, Shane Jiraiya Cummings and Angela Challis joined us for wine, apricot chicken, and double entendres. Apart from much shop talk (all but poor Iz being writers and/or editors of one stripe or another), and a bowl of chocolate mousse large enough to bathe in, the highlight for me was watching Lyn and Angela form an instant bond of friendship that had Shane and I wondering whether we were going to have to fight for who slept on the couch!
Another dinner is on the cards, and soon. I haven’t enjoyed an evening so much in a long time.
REAL LIFE (TM)
It’s been a tough couple of weeks, kids. It started when the court case hit another setback- the pre-trial conference which should have been held on the 5th of this month (meaning the whole thing would likely be over now) was pushed back to the 26th because (wait for it, you’ll love this one) the opposing lawyer forgot it was on and so didn’t tell her client. Now I could talk all day about the levels of shitbaggery involved in a stunt like that (oh, how I could talk), but after three years, all it leaves me is depressed.
Connor is teething, and hasn’t slept properly in weeks.
A relative presented me with a letter so vicious, so filled with hate and bile that the only recourse it gave me was to contact them and suggest we no longer associate. I am insecure about family as it is. Having one turn on me in such a fashion did nothing for my state of mind.
A major market rejected me, and in the next couple of days I found two friends had been accepted by that same market. Those friends are brilliant writers. But I’ve been blocked for so long, and struggling with motivation and need for writing, that the whole thing set me on my haunches. I’ve barely written a new word since January, and for someone who needs to write as much as I do, it’s like suffocating.
Some fucker snuck up to our house in the middle of the night and stole the large jade plant and pot that we keep by the front door.
Erin has been unsettled, wetting her bed on a couple of occasions, and waking up multiple times each night crying and needing attention. Coupled with Connor’s nights, neither Luscious or I have slept two consecutive hours for well over a month.
I dared not like a movie some friends liked (The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, fyi) and some of the reactions of people who did like it have had me wondering why I bother with fandom at all: I started out to be a writer, and somehow fell into fannish things along the way. Sometimes I can’t remember why.
I live in pretty much constant pain, the result of a car accident two months before Erin was born. I see a chiropractor on a regular basis, which generally does the trick. This last month, it hasn’t. Because I can only afford to visit him every three weeks, at best, it’s meant that I’ve been in a hell of a lot of pain for most of the last 4 weeks. To give you an indication: I cannot change my son’s nappy without it hurting. I cannot sit on a couch unless I am supported by the arm and back, and when I get up, it takes three separate movement to do so. I cannot sit in any other kind of chair for more than 10 minutes without pain. I saw the chiro on Friday, and experienced the first pain-free period in over a month. It lasted two days.
I’ve got an infection in my mouth and the bastard just won’t die!
So apologies to anybody who’s missed the dancing, juggling monkey-boy performances in the last little while. Lyn’s got me on a course of St John’s Wort and Ginkgo-Biloba, a natural depression remedy that doesn’t leave you feeling like a warmed-up zombie, and which has brilliant results for her when she has to deal with her own black dogs.
With any luck, normal dancing and juggling services will be resumed soon.