must be funny

Jul. 10th, 2026 10:24 am
tielan: Maria looking resolute, walking away from a chopper (AVG - maria2)
[personal profile] tielan
"Money were not an issue" is a bit of a tricksy phrase.

Do you mean I could buy anything and anyone in the world? Like, no amount too large, no cost beyond contemplating?

Or do you just mean I get all my basics provided? Bills paid, insurances, food, etc?

Because I'm talking about a situation where "if I need the money to buy anything, I have it" in which case, I'm not thinking about me, I'm thinking BIG SCALE.

--

1. What would you do right now, if money were not an issue?

Buy the Australian government. Everyone's for sale at the right price, and you said 'money not an issue'.

Actually, no, I would buy one of the major news/media companies networks. Straight up. Fire everyone, rehire a bunch of people, kill AI, the whole deal.

smaller scale

Oh, you mean personally?

Buy several properties. Townhouses to rent out to friends/people who are struggling. Do it up, solar, water tanks, garden beds, etc.

At least one land property up in the hills - probably about 2-3 acres. Same thing, although a little more intensive.

If we're not talking about the big broadscale kind of stuff, I'd get the roof replaced and the walls insulated, sort out some under-house storage spaces, and redo the garden.



2. What would you do for the next three years, if money were not an issue?

Sort out the house and the land.

Write that novel. (Yes, really. *sigh* I've been saying this for the last twenty-five years.)


3. What is bringing you the most joy right now that requires little or no money?

Fanfic writing.


4. What types of things do you find enjoyable that require no money?

Walking around the neighbourhood. Gardening (although a lot of that tends to cost money in inputs). Reading fanfic.


5. Is there anything you've been meaning to do for a long time, but put off because of money?

...I'm guessing getting the roof replaced and the walls insulated doesn't count?

Pay off my sister's mortgage? IDEK.


--

I was going to talk about jobness and the next stage of work, but not out in the open, I think.

Update

Jul. 9th, 2026 04:03 pm
ranunculus: (Default)
[personal profile] ranunculus
Faucet and hose repaired.  New trough standing by to be installed as soon as the old one is emptied (it is almost empty now), AND the overflow trough is full.  The overflow trough has 6 inches of water in it. That is because I watered this morning and it took a while for the tanks to recover. 
Got a haircut. Short, short, short!
Getting ready for tomorrow's departure to Santa Cruz for the weekend.  Probably back on Sunday.

(no subject)

Jul. 9th, 2026 06:46 pm
flemmings: (hasui rain)
[personal profile] flemmings
The forecast widely scattered thunderstorms morphed into a severe thunderstorm warning and considerable rain, scotching any idea I might have had about going out or ordering in. The thunder itself considerately remained distant but the accompanying pressure changes plus allergies brought on enough of a headache that I stayed doped for most of the afternoon on sinutabs and Pepsi.

Sent Witch King back to the waiting readers and consoled myself with the Kakuriyo manga which of course segues nicely into 100 Demons land. Last night I hacked through that first story in vol. 28 and now sort of have an idea what happened. But I have no notion what it was Uncle Kai took from the cult house and equally no idea what his semi-psychic coworker took from that other house-- he said it was a cat but Kai says You realize now it's not a cat? No idea what's up with the bell that the coworker buys for his cat? for his girlfriend? that disperses ghosts when they come knocking on the door.  Only a vague idea what's up with coworker's mother who was suppised to have run off but who may be a ghost herself. This is Ima-sensei at her most obscure. And memory says 28 is an obscure volume all round.

hobbies, terrible, etc

Jul. 9th, 2026 03:33 pm
kaberett: Trans symbol with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
[personal profile] kaberett

Last week I got Influenced to acquire Specific Shoes For Lifting In as opposed to merrily carrying on in my DMs. They arrived on Tuesday! Which meant I had them for squats yesterday. The only difference I have noticed so far was how confused I was by? my standard set-up? suddenly being the wrong height? Suddenly the cups were too high for me to be confident I'd be comfortably able to rerack the bar once I'd got significant weight on it.

... they are barefoot shoes. they have minimal soles. I'm nearly three centimetres shorter!!!

Meanwhile today's hobby has been working out a bunch of protein numbers, in relation to both the She's A Beast protein mush and the offerings of The Organic Protein Company (my second order from them having also arrived... on Tuesday). The former on account of I'm making my own yoghurt rather than using Fage 2% and I wanted to work out how it compared to the numbers Johnston quotes, whereupon I was alarmed to find out that I cannot by any reasonable means match her asserted 36g (but can if I assume she forgot she'd already added the peanut butter to it...); the latter out of curiosity about how preciously precise I might want about serving size (answer: I am not tracking ANYTHING else closely enough to care about a gram or so of protein each way in my shakes, good grief).

sorry about the horrid formatting, I'll fix it in the morning (maybe) )

(no subject)

Jul. 9th, 2026 02:40 pm
lycomingst: (Default)
[personal profile] lycomingst
I spilled coffee on my bedroom extension cord that has everything plugged in and it knocked out half the house's power. It only causes some inconvenience (like, moving the frig to the other side of the room), but now I have to call the electrician the third time for the same outage. I haven't done that yet because I'm so mad at myself. Just mad.

I finished my Deadwood dvds and I've ordered the movie. I haven't seen it before and now I must. Next up is Burn Notice. That gets a little repetitive but I like the cast. It's out of alphabetical sequence because the casing is so awkward and it wouldn't fit on the shelf correctly before I thinned some of the dvds.

I'm watching Inspector Ellis on Acorn and they tell me there's a new series of Chelsea Detective coming soon, so I guess I'll be signed up until September.

storage unit

Jul. 9th, 2026 05:15 pm
redbird: closeup of me drinking tea, in a friend's kitchen (Default)
[personal profile] redbird

Over the last few years, we have sorted and decluttered enough that we no longer need the large storage unit that Cattitude and I rented when we had to move into a small apartment on short notice, in 2019.

Adrian did a lot of the work, both mental and physical. We gave away a lot of books, and also things like an air conditioner and an exercise bike.

We now have a much smaller and less expensive storage unit, which we hope to have cleared in a couple of months (the units are rented by the month).

After Cattitude and Adrian got home last night, having moved things down the corridor and officially given up the old unit, we had the traditional post-moving pizza for dinner.

In your actual English

Jul. 9th, 2026 05:05 pm
sovay: (Mr Palfrey: a prissy bastard)
[personal profile] sovay
Afterward I felt that I should have recognized Brian Fairbairn and Karl Eccleston's Tommies (2022) at once as the work of the same filmmakers who introduced half the internet to Polari with Putting on the Dish (2015), not least because the two short films make such a nice double feature for the viewer who shares their abiding interest in historical diction, coded communications, and the infectious paranoia of the pre-decriminalization queer male UK. Dense for their snapshot runtimes, they require a similar willingness from their audience to entertain the past on its own terms and learn how to listen to it, whether it's a bombshell of intricate argot or an event horizon of the politely unspeakable.

Six pyrotechnic minutes on Hampstead Heath in 1962, Putting on the Dish is the wittier, higher-wire of the two, sustaining even through its hard zag of an ending a rapid-fire exposition of Polari to scream for. On top of a crash course in the range and variety of marginalized influences that cascaded into one voraciously colorful anti-language, it concisely demonstrates how two strangers side by side on a public park bench could have anatomized the exuberantly unexpurgated adventures of acquaintances or exchanged their own appraisals of well-packaged passers-by, openly under the radar of Lily Law. "Real fantabulosa bit of hard." Its barbed ciphers form a fragile safe space, advanced as casually as a noncommittal naff or bona and then more colloquially relaxed into with talk of floweries and dinarly and disappointingly dolly HPs. "Nada to vada in the larder?" – "Oh, bijou." Nothing else automatically links the bolder and cagier persons of Steve Wickenden and Neil Chinneck—the invaluable screenplay gives their camp names as Maureen and Roberta—but in their shared appreciation of a zinger of defiant backchat, the hillside seems tranquil with possibility, at least until recalled to the realities that oblige a furtive countercultural jargon in the first place. Polari defaults so naturally to irony, getting a heart-punch out of it is an achievement, one of the few direct gestures in a vignette that rewards cryptography. Even the book in its pink jacket encodes its own implications. What English signals is nothing to say.

Down to the riddle of its title, Tommies is the more somberly ambitious slow burn, circling its fifteen minutes in the wings of the haut ton in 1814 around an invented yet all too imaginable coda to the infamous treatment of the Vere Street Coterie. An exercise in negative space, it never looks inside the molly house itself, shows nothing of the men who patronized it except through their social radioactivity, the cishet fascination with their queer customs. "When the police raided their den, they found a dozen men in a bed in one room and in the other a midwife helping a female grenadier give birth to a Wiltshire loaf!" Its Mayfair house is a curdled chocolate box, thick with the stifling half-light of a summer's evening and frantic with the trills and flutters of canaries like the tight catch in a throat or the snap of an expertly wielded fan. Sarah Winter as Georgina Ashton has a look of Psyche not only because of the white fillet her bronze-dark hair is caught up with, but because she stands on the black-and-white chequers of the stair hall as if facing into hell. How she fits into the loose, allusive swirl of gossip that gradually overtakes the women's conversation may be clocked first by students of the queer Regency, but it still has to be deciphered from the ellipses left between the more overt shocks as the cross-currents of schadenfreude, sympathy, and self-preservation gather to a point of no return. As with so much paranoid cinema, even at pocket-size, the question of who knows what is really asking the use of which the knowledge will be made. "When a man holds fire to his chest, it is not only his own clothes he burns." It's a tense, trickily layered tour-de-force for its all-female ensemble—the rest of its cameos are precisely razored in by Marion Bailey, Claudia Jolly, Elizabeth Roberts, and Susie Trayling—and it doesn't not land the wraparound of its final scenes to the unsettled Gainsborough of its cold open, but it feels like more of a fragment than its predecessor despite or because of its greater craft. Its apophatic technique might have to let up for a feature. As a chip of history, it can still haunt.

Beyond their adroit ear and eye for period detail, both films are attractive little objects. Shot on open-air digital by Benjamin Barber, Putting on the Dish has a sort of Eastmancolor overcast that suits both the year and the season; its men look unglamorous and attainable, the imperfections of their faces as expressive as the artifice of their language. Tommies looks like a heritage ghost on slightly powdery 16 mm, a gallery of revealingly shadowed portraits hung by DP Brian Fawcett; its women emerge from their era with all the mixed and inconvenient reality of facts escaping the historical record. I can best compliment the characterfully inhabited costume design by Oliver Cronk by invoking Alexandra Byrne. Impressively, neither feels like just another whack of gay tragedy even when they focus so intimately on the never-beneficial ramifications of a criminalized life; they are too vivid and compassionate, interested in all of their players regardless of their effects. I watched them courtesy of their writer-director-editors' YouTube and would be intrigued by any further foreign countries—how differently and how recognizably things are done there—they choose to add to their many-voiced queer mosaic. This English brought to you by my bona backers at Patreon.

Unobtainium

Jul. 9th, 2026 09:39 pm
[personal profile] cosmolinguist

The little plastic wallet I keep my travel pass, railcard, etc in -- which was a freebie from Sparkle last year -- has disintegrated. Like, I was worried about actually losing my bus pass when I was out on Tuesday.

My attempts to look online purchase a new version have taught me:

  1. this PVC trifold style I used to get given at train stations for free with tickets in it (or at pride) is
    a) impossible to find
    and
    b) necessary for me, bifold will not hold all my stuff
    and
  2. the two styles of travel pass holder are
    a) for old people (floral, offering personalization)
    or
    b) gifts for dads (again personalization, also football teams and things like cars or motorcycles)

I guess it makes sense, with most people who have these passes being old. But sheesh, here I thought I might be able to get something at least as okay as my rainbow Network Rail ticket wallet, with three clear windows for cards. And it turns out I can't even have three clear windows!

Happy ARMY day!

Jul. 9th, 2026 04:32 pm
stonepicnicking_okapi: jhope (jhope)
[personal profile] stonepicnicking_okapi
Borahae to all the ARMY out there! 9 July is the day the BTS fandom was created (26 days after BTS debuted). And instead of a BTS clip, here's a clip of the Chilean ARMY in the streets a few days ago protesting the government's statement that the concerts (3 shows already sold out) were not confirmed yet and that the platform used by BTS were in danger of hurting the turf of the stadium and that the show would have to be moved to another venue.

It sounds like a shakedown for a bribe by the government. I hope they back down and approve the concert in the designated field and that ARMYs who have tickets go and enjoy. But see them protest peacefully. And ARMYs around the world stand with you!

Angus soft fruit

Jul. 9th, 2026 08:50 pm
vivdunstan: Part of own photo taken in local university botanic gardens. Tree trunks rise atmospherically, throwing shadows from the sun on the ground. (Default)
[personal profile] vivdunstan
A close up view of the wild strawberries we found growing in our back garden today. Much to our surprise!

Readercon!

Jul. 9th, 2026 03:04 pm
genarti: Knees-down view of woman on tiptoe next to bookshelves (Default)
[personal profile] genarti
I keep forgetting* to post about this, and now Readercon is starting uhhh tonight, but I'll be at Readercon this year! And on some panels! On Friday and Saturday morning, after which I will be spending most of the weekend looking at the tall ships parading majestically around Boston, but I'm going to cram as much con fun as I can into that time.

*"Forgetting" is mostly "being too busy to have bandwidth for things" really, but who's counting?

Here are my panels (ETA: now with 100% less messed-up html!):

Faux-Victorian Scientists in Fantasyland (Friday 1pm)

In a review of A Letter From the Lonesome Shore by Sylvie Cathrall, Abigail Nussbaum notes that it is part of a "recent trend for tales about cod-Victorian scientists in fantasyland (a group that includes Heather Fawcett’s Emily Wilde series and Malka Older’s Mossa and Pleiti novellas)." What's behind this trend and how does it approach the complicated legacy of the Victorian Era?

Secretly Brilliant Strategists (Friday 2pm)

Ivan Vorpatril of Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan Saga is handsome and vacuous: a himbo. And yet, despite his seemingly unimpressive mental faculties, Ivan repeatedly makes good strategic choices—even when they don't initially appear to be. What do we love (or hate!) about characters whose intelligence is camouflaged? What do they do for their narratives that more obviously clever characters can't?

SFF Spanning Cycles of History (Saturday 11am)

There was a time when SFF narratives spanning whole historical cycles, such as Foundation, A Canticle for Leibowitz, and the Dragonriders of Pern, allowed readers to follow whole civilizations as characters, watching as situations go from current and urgent to historicized and mythologized and become the cultural context for new urgent problems and events. Has this style of storytelling become less popular, and if so, why? What challenges and opportunities do such longitudinal narratives offer?

Video going through an X-ray machine

Jul. 9th, 2026 02:08 pm
neonvincent: For posts about Twilight and trolling (Twilight Fandom wank trolls you)
[personal profile] neonvincent

Some comments on FilkConbobulated

Jul. 9th, 2026 01:02 pm
ericcoleman: (Default)
[personal profile] ericcoleman
This is an official notice from FilkCONbobulated headquarters in the Crowe & Dove House deep in the wilds of Iowa!

I haven't had the brain to do a con report.

I worried Lizzie the week before the convention. I said to her "I am feeling really optimistic about this". She almost took me to the ER (ok, maybe a slight exaggeration, she did look at me amazed).

There were two small glitches. The popcorn for Friday night was never acquired. There were a lot of things to do Friday morning. We'll make it happen next year.

The Friday night circle was badly organized, it was a little too spontaneous. The rest of the weekend Andrea and Emily took over setting it up, and it went much smoother the next two nights.

That was it for things that went wrong.

We were right at the limit of our space. That was the only thing I was worried about. It was fine.

We learned a few things that will make next year even better, but it really went as well as it possibly could have. The response online has been marvelous, thank you so much everyone who made comments, whether on your pages or ours.

We have so many people to thank.

I want to start with Andrea Hawkins-Kamper. Andrea has been drafted for logistics next year.

Steven Willett for his help setting up and tearing down the PA and Jen Midkiff for her help with running sound.

The fabulous Rachel Esler for running our con suite and Jan DiMasi for all of the wonderfulness that she supplied for it. It was the one thing that neither Lizzie or I had ever been involved with.

My daughter Reilly for running Friday registration for us. We were both much too scattered to have been good at that.

Everyone who brought an instrument to the petting zoo. Jen Midkiff (again), Deirdre Murphy, Dave Stagner, Bryan Baker, and I know I am forgetting someone, remind me and I will add names. It was a marvelous success and I think will be a part of the con from here on.

The fabulous Interfilk team, Merav, Emily & Xap. We raised a nice bit of money at the auction, of course run by Bill Roper.

Oh, and Bill Roper for being our only huckster. I didn't want to set up a separate room for vendors, so we'll go with one for next year as well.

All of our Go Fund Me Corn-Conspirators for help us is raise the seed money to do this thing. And in the midst of that Brenda Sutton for her donation of the last of the Chambanacon cash. She has guaranteed more years of the con.

Our GOHs, Bryan Baker and Larry Kirby.

And of course our fearless leader, my partner in crime, the fabulous Lizzie Crowe! This is all her fault. She came up with the idea and the name.

The con was built on some pretty basic concepts.

What we wanted to do was give our Filk family a place to hang out in the summer. To have some interesting things going on during the day, and then give everyone space to sing at night. We wanted to keep it simple. And I don't see us changing that much over the next few years.

Our idea is to feature as GOHs people from the Midwest who may not have gotten out of the Midwest much. We're already pretty certain who we want for GOHs for year three. And of course Interfilk will bring in people from everywhere and anywhere.

But we want to keep that simplicity.

We asked the community if they wanted something like this, and the answer was a resounding yes. Then so many of you came and brought your smiles, your support, and your music. That is why next year is called If You Filk It They Will Come (plus I needed more Iowa references ... and more corn references, sorry [not sorry]).

This is absolutely the con that Filk built. We were covered in an embarrassment of riches in the form of convention running experience and help from this community. So much positive and supportive feedback, and literally all of the constructive criticism was useful. Much of it, we’d thought of, some of it was inspired. And this community continues to show up and celebrate together. We will be forever grateful for all of you.

Eric & Lizzie

Thursday 9th July 2026

Jul. 9th, 2026 06:47 pm
usuallyhats: Bernice Summerfield, cartoon version (benny)
[personal profile] usuallyhats posting in [community profile] doctor_who_sonic
Do you have a Doctor Who community or a journal that we are not currently linking to? Leave a note in the comments and we'll add you to the watchlist ([personal profile] doctor_watch).

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Off-Dreamwidth News
Blogtor Who's video of the day for yesterday was "Speeches by the Doctor, 2026"
Nicholas Whyte reviews the Fourth Doctor audiobook "The Thing From The Sea"
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Books read, June 2026

Jul. 9th, 2026 05:28 pm
swan_tower: The Long Room library at Trinity College, Dublin (Long Room)
[personal profile] swan_tower
The Tricky Business of Faerie Bargains, Reena McCarty. Something about the marketing of this one -- the cover art, the cover copy, and so forth -- made me think it's a cozy novel. It absolutely is not. Which isn't to say it's grimdark, because it isn't that, either; just that the stakes here are higher than cozy reaches for, and the trials the characters go through have sharper edges.

Which for me was a good thing, because I was extremely uncertain if I was going to like a cozy book about the fae. (That tips over into twee with shocking ease.) So I was very pleased to instead get a novel in a world where fae have always been known to exist, but Europe has largely -- and deliberately -- destroyed its own Otherworld, while the U.S. has set up strict laws governing how people are and are not permitted to make deals with the fae. The faerie courts are not the familiar Seelie and Unseelie, but they absolutely have their own politics, which unsurprisingly turn out to underlie the small-scale disaster the protagonist is trying to set right.

The fae themselves are pleasingly alien (even if I find the human-sounding ones like "Sloan" rather distracting). There's just enough echo of dysfunctional human patterns like narcissism to keep their weirdness from feeling random, and McCarty does a good job of selling the idea that the fae simply do not have the same priorities and mentalities as mortals do. The ending was particularly effective in that regard!

Below the Root, Zilpha Keatley Snyder. Discussed elsewhere.

The Murderer’s Tale, Margaret Frazer. I continue to gravitate toward shorter books at the moment, which is probably contributing to how many mysteries I've been reading lately.

By this point in the series, it is well established that the first scene will be from the viewpoint of the title character. So when you name your book The Murderer's Tale . . . yeah, Frazer is not faking you out. From the start, you know who the killer will be, and you can very rapidly guess who the victim will be, too. The killer is an unpleasant piece of work, thoroughly convinced of his own superior significance and misreading the motivations of everybody around him, who of course are lesser. Though I thought it was a deft touch when you see him being judgmental toward certain characters, and then soon after that you're in Frevisse's perspective and seeing her be judgmental toward them, too. Class distinctions are very real to these people. But this one really does read like a tragedy, because you see what's coming, it shouldn't happen, and of course you can't stop it.

A Case of Mice and Murder, Sally Smith. A newer mystery, set in 1901 London, about a barrister of the Inner Temple very comfortably settled into his routine, who gets piked out of it because the Lord Chief Justice has been murdered -- within the Temple! -- and the guy in charge of the place is extremely motivated to get the case solved as discreetly as possible. I very much like the central conceit here, which hinges on the fact that the Inner Temple's governance means the City of London police can only intervene there if asked; since the Temple is very much an elite bastion of the sort that thinks scandal is the kind of thing that should only happen to other people, having an insider investigate is exactly how such men would handle even a murder.

And Gabriel Ward is a congenial detective, very nerdy and obsessed not only with the law but with a whole array of historical tidbits. I like how Smith handles his very obvious OCD: another book might have made more emotional hay out of the stress and pressure of the condition, but Gabriel has long since arranged his life in ways that accommodate it. He does, over time, become more aware of the restrictions it places on him, but since he's a well-off gentleman cushioned by his residence in the Temple, it is not really a source of angst. It's just how his life works.

I enjoyed this one enough that I started out listening to it in audiobook and then transferred to ebook, not because the narrator was bad -- I liked him, despite fluctuating volume levels that sometimes made the quiet bits difficult to hear -- but because I have approximately 1-2 hours of audiobook listening time in a given week, and I didn't want to wait that long to get the whole story!

Cinder House, Freya Marske. This is the point at which I pivoted to reading the Hugo-nominated short fiction categories. I also read the short stories and novelettes this month, but since those weren't published under separate cover, they don't get tracked here.

It takes a fair bit of effort to make a Cinderella retelling feel original, but Marske manages it well -- starting with the fact that the protagonist gets murdered at the start of the novella and spends the rest of it as a ghost haunting the house now held by her stepmother and stepsisters. Marske also adds in a fresh layer by giving the prince his own story, with a curse that belongs nowhere in the original while fitting well into the general shape of fairy tale tropes. Be warned that there's some fairly heinous abuse here, quite apart from the murder; it turns out there are ways to torture a ghost who is more or less coterminous with the house she haunts, and one of the stepsisters eagerly explores those. The ending, however, finds a lovely and unusual resolution for the core problems.

Murder by Memory, Olivia Waite. SFnal murder mystery in space, aboard a vessel that's not so much a generation ship as a reincarnational one: people regularly save their memories to data "books" and upload the contents to their new body after their old one dies. The crux here is that someone has been murdered at the same time that several books were destroyed, with many complications ensuing.

I do tend to engage less with SF titles, but given the mystery kick I'm on right now, this one fit right in with my current mood. I enjoyed it a lot, even if I'm not sure it stands out in a way that would make me say it's award-worthy. There's another one out in the series and a third one on the way; I may well hunt them out.

Automatic Noodle, Annalee Newitz. Also SF, this time firmly in the cozy corner. In the aftermath of a war that saw California win independence from the United States, robots have their freedom . . . sort of. They're still discriminated against in a number of ways, many of which pose problems for a group of bots who want to open a restaurant.

I am extremely hit or miss with cozy books, because sometimes the warm fuzziness winds up making the perils feel a bit too toothless for my taste. Here, Staybehind lists at the outset several things that could go badly wrong, and then almost none of them happen. I suspect that actually dealing with those would have required this to be a novel, not a novella, and also it would have been markedly less cozy.

The River Has Roots, Amal El-Mohtar. This, on the other hand, is so firmly up my alley that I might as well have painted a target on myself. Folkloric-mood novella based on a murder ballad, with a central motif that plays off the connections between language and magic? YES PLEASE. And the writing is a lyrical (without being overwrought) as usual. If Amal wants to write another six of these, all riffing on different ballads, I will be first in line for them.

And All Between, Zilpha Keatley Snyder. Discussed elsewhere.

The Summer War, Naomi Novik. Last of the novellas, and I'm a little puzzled: in the Hugo packet it gets labeled as a "sample," and there's a link to request the whole thing on Netgalley. I wasn't minded to create an account just to do that, so I figured I would read what's here . . . and it feels like it's all but maybe the last two pages? Anybody who's read the full thing, I'd love to know how much the sample cuts off.

Anyway, I was feeling jaundiced because of that whole "sample" business, but this won me over. There's a tenuous peace between Faerie and the mortal world, but given the way faerie memory works, that means almost nothing: the events that set off the original war are as fresh today as the day they happened. The main character winds up in the thick of that, of course, and has to figure out how to protag from within very constrained circumstances.

The pacing of this one did feel a little odd to me, in that it spends a lot of time on setting the stage before we get to the main act. In ways I understand -- without that setup, much of the resolution would be less satisfying -- but it took me a bit longer to get into it as a result.

Until the Celebration, Zilpha Keatley Snyder. Discussed elsewhere.

A Case of Life and Limb, Sally Smith. Second of the Gabriel Ward mysteries, and the last for now, though there's a third coming next year. While eventually you get a murder here, much of the novel concerns someone sending packages with desiccated body parts to an assortment of men in the Inner Temple. (There's an entertaining discussion about whether this is even a crime, under the laws of the era.) Gabriel is once again tasked to investigate lest -- oh, the horror -- the journalists of Fleet Street find out and splash it all over their papers.

I should note that each book also involves some trial Gabriel is involved in, with the investigation taking away from the precious time he needs to prepare for that. I like that his trials are not murder trials; the first concerns a very tangled question of intellectual property rights around a beloved children's book, and this one concerns a defamation case brought by a popular stage entertainer. Topsy Tillotson is a delightful character, and I like how getting involved in her situation causes the rather mousy Gabriel to grow some unexpected teeth. (In my head he is played by Eddie Marsan, specifically channeling Mr. Norrell, sans that character's less admirable qualities.)

One other note I want to make, though, I'll put behind rot-13 -- not because it's directly spoilery, but because it might prejudice a reader's thoughts in spoilery directions: Gur jnl gung Tnoevry'f pheerag pnfr unf gb or gvrq va fbzrubj jvgu gur pevzr jvaqf hc aneebjvat gur svryq bs aneengvir cbffvovyvgvrf snveyl funecyl. Bs pbhefr vg jbhyq srry n yvggyr enaqbz vs vg jrera'g pbaarpgrq, ohg abarguryrff, gur aneebjvat fyvtugyl qvfncbvagf zr.

(originally posted at Swan Tower: https://www.swantower.com/2026/07/09/books-read-june-2026/)

Birdfeeding

Jul. 9th, 2026 11:12 am
ysabetwordsmith: Cartoon of me in Wordsmith persona (Default)
[personal profile] ysabetwordsmith
Today is partly cloudy and warm.

I fed the birds.  I haven't seen any activity yet.

I put out water for the birds.

EDIT 7/9/26 -- I did a bit of work around the patio.





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Book Review: The Light and the Dark

Jul. 9th, 2026 11:08 am
osprey_archer: (books)
[personal profile] osprey_archer
A few weeks ago, scrolling through Tumblr, I was arrested by a quote:

“I can’t think what it’s like to be certain. I’m afraid that it’s impossible for me. There isn’t a place for me.”

His voice was tense, excited, full of passion. As he went on, it became louder, louder than the voice I was used to, but still very clear.

“Listen, Lewis. I could believe in all the rest. I could believe in the catholic church. I could believe in miracles. I could believe in the inquisition. I could believe in eternal damnation. If only I could believe in God.”

“But you can’t, I said, with his cry still in my ears.

“I can’t begin to,” he said, his tone quiet once more. “I can’t get as far as ‘help Thou mine unbelief.’”

We left the ridge of the Roman road, and began to cross the shining fields.

“The nearest I’ve got is this,” he said. “It has happened twice. It’s completely clear – and terrible. Each time has been on a night when I couldn’t sleep. I’ve had the absolute conviction – it’s much more real than anything one can see or touch – that God and His world exist. And everyone can enter and find their rest. Except me. I’m infinitely far away for ever. I am alone and apart and infinitesimally small – and I can’t come near.”


This comes from C. P. Snow’s The Light and the Dark, and of course I had to read it at once.

Now unfortunately this turns out to be one of those rare times when my book instincts have led me astray. The above excerpt electrified me, but the rest of the book was… it’s fine. It’s well-written. Our narrator (Lewis) is telling us the story of his friend Roy (the speaker in the above extract) and his struggles with recurring melancholia.

Roy hopes that if he can come to believe in God, that will cure his bouts of despair. When that doesn’t work, he decides to try the next best thing, “a feeble simulacrum of his search for God,” by attempting to embrace the Third Reich.

Given the kind of God Roy was looking for, based on his passionate declamation that “I could believe in the inquisition…in eternal damnation,” it strikes me the move from God to Hitler actually makes perfect sense. God the Fuhrer seems like just the sort of deity who would delight in damning people for the hell of it, too.

You might imagine that Roy’s flirtation with Nazism put me off the book, but in fact I had gotten annoyed with Roy much earlier, simply because I felt that the author was continually leaning over my shoulder breathing “Isn’t he dreamy?” Young, handsome, deeply and romantically sad; slender yet strong, intellectually brilliant, showered in honors to which he is indifferent; a notorious womanizer who had a brief gay love affair in his youth –

I did entertain the possibility that Snow may have meant us to read Roy as gay, adding an extra subtext to his despairing “There isn’t a place for me.” But upon reflection I think this briefly-alluded-to affair is simply meant to add to Roy’s aura of irresistible dreaminess. Women want him, men want to be him; but men also just want him. Don’t you, dear reader, also want…

“NO,” I said, heaping rejection like coals of fire on poor Roy’s head, like an angry god myself.

So in a way it was a bit of a relief when Roy started flirting with Nazism, as I felt released from any obligation to like this beautiful sad boy. Look how sad he is. How could you dislike anyone so sad and so beautiful at the same time? He does perhaps allow his sadness to lead him into excesses, but it’s just because he’s so darn SAD, don’t you understand? Well, look, I think we can all agree that “fanboy for the Third Reich” is simply an excess too far.

Unfortunately, now that I’d decided I was allowed to hate him, I began to find him far less annoying. It helps that when the war starts, he signs up to fly for the RAF, mostly because he knows the death rates for pilots is high, but at least he’s fighting for the right side even if he is also sighing re: the Nazis “If they had been just a little different, they would have been the last best hope.” Last best hope for WHAT, Roy? This is genuinely unclear to me, because he recoils whenever he has to interface with a specific example of Nazi doctrine, like their policies toward the Jews or their desire to conquer Europe, when considered as a concrete fact rather than in the abstract. (In the abstract he thinks unification is a good idea and, after all, it will never be accomplished peacefully.)

So he’s still fumbling about in basic political incoherence, but he nonetheless achieves a certain pathos in this section. Despite myself, I felt some of the tragedy of this beautiful sad full-grown man who is clearly always going to be spiritually a beloved boy in C. P. Snow’s heart.

Snow is actually quite a good writer, I think, but would have been even better if he could have gotten out of his own way. There’s no need to constantly point out Roy’s dreaminess. He’s put enough of it on the page that readers could notice it on their own, if they were only left alone.

(no subject)

Jul. 9th, 2026 08:00 am
madbaker: (charcuterie)
[personal profile] madbaker
The local SCA group is restarting with a new younger group of people. This is a good thing. We've never been particularly involved, partly because the small group of previous people were mainly focused on being medium fish in their very small pond. But supporting the new group seems like a good thing to do, and they were holding the monthly meeting a mile from our house, so we really had no excuse not to go (other than donwannas).

It was good we went. Especially because the new exchequer hasn't had any training and didn't know he needs very specific paperwork from the Corporate head to be authorized for getting on the bank account. (He was planning to show up at the bank with his SCA warrant of office. That... will never work.) So I promised him training and walking through everything, possibly in a couple hours at our house. I have also promised that for another new local exchequer in Oakland.

The new seneschal is a British expat and his wife misses British sausages. I also promised if they want to do a project day I'd help them make some British-style sausages to take home. (It's partly spicing and mostly using breadcrumbs as filler, which give them a softer texture that I don't like as much.)

Tired today, because we got home around 9 and it took me a while to wind down and get to sleep. But worthwhile to have gone.

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July 2026

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