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Below are the most recent 15 friends' journal entries.
| Thursday, December 24th, 2009 |
beatonna
|
8:47p |
Christmas Eve
It being Christmas Eve and all, I was thinking of this Christmas story and drew it up. I meant to draw it nicer, but didn't get time. It's about family. ( under the cut, because it's big )If it helps to understand it better, I am the second oldest of four girls. Merry Christmas, everyone! To you and yours. |
griphus
|
2:52p |
Santa Blue: Christmas is the opium of the masses. We prefer liquor. |
| Wednesday, December 23rd, 2009 |
griphus
|
3:15p |
Jump, Jump!: Canabalt sets the bar for single-button twitch games. |
beatonna
|
12:09a |
The last man to lose his head, I suppose he deserved it
 A Scottish cartoon, since I am back home for the holidays. I'm well acquainted with the tune "Lord Lovat's Lament," since you hear it around these parts every time anyone has to pick up a fiddle and learn something. But you know, it's one of those tunes you know so well, you pay no attention to it, it's just there in the back of your head. Then one day, I was looking up a bunch of works by Hogarth (the best) and came upon this portrait of 'Lord Lovat'. The lovely old tune and that devily face, they didn't match. So I wanted to learn more about him! Lovat (Simon Fraser, born 1697 - there are about a million Simon Fraser Lord Lovats) really epitomizes how reading Scottish history can make you want to tear your eyeballs out, or laugh because it's nearly a farce it's so nutty. Either the people involved are disastrously loyal, or disastrously duplicitous. Everything is a disaster, but it's a hell of a ride. |
| Tuesday, December 22nd, 2009 |
griphus
|
4:14p |
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| Monday, December 21st, 2009 |
griphus
|
12:56p |
Phil's Rapture: The mysterious disappearance of the Philip K. Dick android. |
xiaobaitu
|
10:31a |
|
| Thursday, December 17th, 2009 |
griphus
|
2:30p |
Let's Big Dance!: Ukraine's biggest folk-techno-drag act wants your attention and she wants it now. |
| Wednesday, December 16th, 2009 |
beatonna
|
8:50p |
Familiar Faces
 Some holiday comics! The Kiss Elves return. Oh and I am posting journal type comics on twitter sometimes. If you are on twitter I am @beatonna |
griphus
|
3:42p |
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| Tuesday, December 15th, 2009 |
griphus
|
3:02p |
|
| Monday, December 14th, 2009 |
griphus
|
3:54p |
|
xiaobaitu
|
8:49a |
This morning on my way to proctor this exam, I threw out my cup of coffee in the dumpster behind the unitarian church(?). Inside, I found just sitting there like an astronaut in stasis, an entire floral display, from which I took a rose. Very quickly I realized that you can't go around in life carrying around a rose without raising questions, nor can you easily get rid of it without giving it to someone else. And I was on my way to proctor an exam. Should I enter with it clasped between my teeth and hum the theme to Don Flaminco? Instead, I gave it to a fellow TA. 'Here,' I said, 'there's no Non-Gay way to get rid of this, so I'm giving it to you as the Least-Gay way, since you have a girlfriend.' 'Actually... I don't.' '...Oops?' |
| Sunday, December 13th, 2009 |
beatonna
|
10:50p |
that's a good one old buddy
 I saw a stage production of A Christmas Carol today. I love Dickens, I will always love A Christmas Carol. Even if they don't do smoking tricks in it. |
juniperjune
|
12:57p |
Here is something concrete that has changed in the last ten years. P.S. it has been nearly ten years since I started keeping an online journal, though I didn't switch it to LJ until about two years in. What has changed is that my life is no longer full of talismans. By "talismans" I mean certain mental objects-- thoughts of events, thoughts of certain scraps of conversation-- that, though they were not earth-shattering in and of themselves, took on an enormous significance for me. Sometimes this significance was actually false, but I allowed myself to think that (for example) an offhand remark from someone signified some kind of enormous regard for me even though I knew it wasn't true. But more often this significance was just a fierce treasuring of the few moments of real, free experience allowed to a relatively sheltered teenage girl. I'd been having some vague thoughts lately about the fact that life was no longer so enchanted now that I have lived so much more of it, but this particular thought about "talismans" crystallized for me just now while re-reading H.D.'s semiautobiographical novel HERmione, and coming across this passage: "George was the only young man who had ever kissed Her. George was the only person who had called her a 'Greek goddess.' George, to be exact, had said ruminatively on more than one occasion, ‘You never manage to look decently like other people. You look like a Greek goddess or a coal scuttle.' George had said she looked like a coal scuttle. He also said she looked like a Greek goddess. There was that about George, he wanted to incarnate Her, knew enough to know that this was not Her. There was just a chance that George might manage to draw her out half-drowned, a coal scuttle, or push Her back, drowned, a goddess.” In this novel, H.D. is reflecting on her early 20s and her period of engagement to Ezra Pound, who is here called George. The way she holds on to this one thing he said, and pulls it apart, and hopes to be either ruined or rescued by him on the basis of it, reminded me very much of the way my mind used to work when I was in high school & early college. Mostly I'm glad that I don't have to grasp at straws like this anymore, but I guess I'm also a little sad that I no longer live in such a dreamily obsessive world. |
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