perpetual_motion: you're breathless with ob....jectification (guys a sleepy bunny)
No real reason, beyond my own dorkish tendencies. And I've listed them according to chronology, I think.

15243 (Twenty Years Gone; Mash; BJ/Hawkeye)
29335 (X and Average Man; X-Men/Heroes; Matt/Mohinder)
34015 (Unorganized Snapshots of Prep School Life; Law&Order HSAU; Jack/Mike)
21689 (Sick and Tired of What to Say (No One Listens Anyway); Harry Potter; Neville/Snape)
13302 (Harry, Harry, Snape, and Bob; Dresden Files (TV)/Harry Potter; Dresden/Bob, Harry/Snape)
23613 (In Between Days; Harry Potter; Percy/Oliver)
12651 (The Luckiest (Sequel to In Between Days); Harry/Potter; Percy/Oliver)
32051 (A Boy from Nowhere; Green Lantern Corps HSAU; Guy/Kyle)
13734 (Love in the Aftermath; NCIS; Gibbs/Tony)

Total Words: 195633
perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (it's glow time)
A very brief disclaimer before the main event: This is not written to anyone in particular. I've just had time to consider things and have decided to blog them.

We good? We're good.

Here's the thing: I think diversity is bullshit. I do not think this because I think anyone is inferior to me because of race/age/creed/sex/sexual orientation/religion/what the fuck ever. I think that diversity is bullshit because it's all "LOOK! DIFFERENCES!" and I think that is COMPLETELY the wrong way to go about it.

I say this as a very, very white chick raised working class in the South. I've had a lot of people think I'm racist. I just don't give a shit about being PC about this bullshit.

I think my dad put it best. He picked me up from college one Thanksgiving, and we had a version of the following conversation:

HIM: "Your roommate is black."
ME: "...okay?"
HIM: "It makes me really happy that you never mentioned it."
ME: "The fuck?" [There is a 98% chance I responded with exactly this, as my dad isn't concerned about cursing.]
HIM: "I like that you just talked about your roommate and not about your black roommate. It's pretty much exactly what me and my generation were trying to do."
ME: "Oh. Okay. Cool."

If my father followed political correctness nowadays, he'd probably shit himself in rage, and I can't say I blame him. I fucking hate the word "diversity" in any educational/business setting because it means, "let's wave a red fucking flag to show our differences." I'm not against those differences as an idea. I am against using them to show how "hip" and "now" and "PC" you are. At one point I worked in a job where there was a single black woman at the same level of numerous white women and men. There was a day where we were working together where we found out the word of the moment was going to be "diversity."

HER: "You know, maybe if we taught respect, we wouldn't have to teach diversity."

That's stuck with me all this time, and will probably stick with me through my life, because jesus fucking christ, if that's not the point, I don't know what is.

Because "diversity" isn't about respect to me. It's about showing off how in-the-know you are whether you're in the know or not. It's putting up Kwannza or Hannukah decorations without checking if anyone you work with actually celebrates anything other than Christmas. It's taking special interest in people who come from shit backgrounds as long as they're not white, and it's promoting the idea that you're only interesting if you've had some sort of horrible past that could be used for an Oprah special. I'm not saying these backgrounds and beliefs are not legitimate; I'm saying that deciding these ideas are somehow MORE LEGITIMATE is bullshit.

I like people in life and on the internets because I find you funny or sweet or goofy or nerdy or because you will occasionally write me porn. I don't really give a shit beyond that, okay?

This is not to say I'm not political, but I do not feel the need to "authenticate" myself with "diversity" and other words that basically break down to being the PC common denominator. If you end up pissing me off, you won't do it because you're not white or not female, and you won't do it because you're not in the same political spectrum as me. You will piss me off for being a fucking IDIOT, and idiocy does not require a skin color.

My opinion and your opinion are equally valid as long as you come to me with facts and evidence and all those other words that make rational people hot in their junk. You want to throw straw men and intentional fallacy and all those shit at me? I will laugh. A lot. And do my best to stop responding as soon as possible (which is to say, I have a minor case of Train Wreck Syndrome, which should not surprise anyone on the internet).

Short version: I love you bitches. There is shit you can teach me; there is shit I can teach you. I don't give a fucking shit what you look like, and while we may post some shit that makes each other squick, I hope it's never a deal breaker.
perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (Default)
Grades are in. I got an A, an A-, and an A.

I just sent an e-mail to the prof who gave me an A- because I want to double-check her math. No, I am not kidding. It's been 30 hours since grades posted, and I still don't have percentages for my two big projects, my portfolio, an analysis, and part of a quiz. This is, as the kids say, not fucking on.

It is fully possible I have an A-, and I will accept that, but I should also know my fucking grade breakdown by assignment.
perpetual_motion: electronics gone sentient is terrifying (goddamned mouthy bastard)
(And for those of you wondering, it's due Friday, and I will shut up about it after that.)

So, it turns out that the problem isn't that I don't have enough to say, and it turns out the problem isn't that I don't know how to say it, and it turns out that the problem isn't that I haven't done the research.

The problem is--I shit you not--that I'm writing two different studies. I have the thesis and research wherein I attempt to prove comic books as technical writing, and then I have the follow up wherein I actually perform the research I would suggest in the "further research" section of the first paper.

I shit. You not.

Can I combine them into a single paper? Probably. It would basically go, "Okay, I'm gonna prove A, and then I'm gonna prove A again by doing B." In fact, knowing this now, I could probably pound out the rest of the paper tomorrow given a proper amount of determination and coffee.

Or, I could finish up proving A the first time, submit it to my prof, and ask him if I can adjust my indy study for next quarter, so I can prove A again by doing B.

A is A, people. And A snuck the fuck up on me.
perpetual_motion: Booster and Beetle 4-evah! (don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh)
The Husband: "How do you write a 4,000 page poem?"
Me: "Well, first you shove your head up your ass."

Thanks, Wiki. I wanted to be a goof tonight.

[And I just noticed I misspelled "marriage" in my tag. Well, shit.]
perpetual_motion: guy gardner's proof of badass (lol whut whut in the butt)
[The Husband was putting away ice and noticed a leftover pie crust from Thanksgiving.]

HIM: "What should we do with the other pie crust?"
ME: "Make a pie."
HIM: [A LOOK] "Thank you, Wisenheimer. What kind of pie?"
ME: "Eatin' pie."
HIM: "It's not a pig."

I keep swearing to him I'm going to start blogging examples of us talking like dorks, so here's the first one. And now, a vintage one:

[Driving down the street, The Husband spots a mailman.]

HIM: "You know, you hit them, letters fly everywhere. Like feathers."
ME: "Quit learning things from cartoons!"
perpetual_motion: Booster and Beetle 4-evah! (don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh)
I give you the "Aristocrats" joke I promised. Should you have forgotten what one is, I suggest Wikipedia. I am not linking you this time because I linked you last time. So there.

Quick note: the joke opens with a character grinning. That's because this is 2300 words from my 2005 NaNo novel. In case you were wondering what I'd do to meet word count.

Warning: Sheer awfulness ahead )
perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (dear god not again)
I would like to take some time on this, "America's Hat Day" (which you crazy Hat-People call "Canada") and thank you for your many, many contributions to my life.

Without America's Hat I would not know the joy of watching one guy with no teeth hit another guy with no teeth in the face with a big stick. In my country, we call that "assault," but you guys call it "hockey," and it's legal! Cool!

Also, without all of you in America's Hat, I would not have "Wilby Wonderful" or "Due South" or "Da Vinci's Inquest" or "Forever Knight" or any American television show from the last twenty years that required a forest that totally looks like Oregon. Or maybe upper New York State but totally, totally doesn't look like America's Hat. Really.

And without your procreating up there in the Hat, I wouldn't have Callum Keith Rennie or Catherine O'Hara or Dan Akroyd or Caroline Rhea or James Doohan or the motherfucking god who is The Shatner.

You did give us Kritsen Kreuk, which is so not cool, but we did try to take you over that one time, so I guess it's only fair.

So, in short, thank you, America's Hat, for all you've done for us! You seem like a neat place, and your syrup of maples is delicious! If you see Zap Rowsdower, tell him he has a stupid name:




But seriously, you Canadian bitches are fine, and your take on bacon is delicious! Hope you had a great day!
perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (Oh hai guyz!)
The Husband and I were discussing "Burn Notice" because we're getting the DVDs off Netflix so we can catch up, and the following occured:

ME: "Apparently, there's an episode where Michael makes fun of Horatio Caine."
HUSBAND: [Removes glasses.] "Maybe David Caruso will..." [puts on glasses] "Raise Caine."
ME: "You did NOT."

Yeah. We did that.
perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (made of win)
I told this story to [livejournal.com profile] shoshannagold last night and promised to pass it along.

We were talking about resumes in my night class last night, and a few students were asking about how to put their international experience on their resumes. The prof was telling them how it's fantastic they have international experience, and how important that is to make very clear on one's resume.

A guy raised his hand and said:

"This question is going to sound weird."

Which caused all of us to have a good chuckle. And the guy follows it up, without any other introduction, with:

"How credible is Canada?"

To which I blurted out without thinking:

"You mean, like, as a country?"

He was speaking about how it looks to have been to Canada for international experience, given the general view in America is that Canada is alternately our hat or our attic. It was decided that Canada, being a different country, is worthy of the international travel sticker, and so is, in fact, credible.

Which brings me to this:

Photobucket

Feel free to use at will.
perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (FLEEEEEE)
I was over at [livejournal.com profile] crack_broom looking at some recs, and someone has an icon that reads, "fucking gay and fucking fabulous". Which led my brain to this imaginary conversation:

"Are you fucking gay?"
"Of course. If you're fucking sad, it's all angsty. I do like fucking angry, however, because that's juts fun."

This is my brain on no drugs, people. These are the things I come up with. Save yourselves.

Profile

perpetual_motion: hang yourself please (Default)
perpetual_motion

October 2013

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Mar. 25th, 2017 07:41 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios