Okay, it's not that cold outside, but it's snowing. Of all the days to forget to bring a scarf, I picked today, the only day where wet stuff is actually falling from the sky.
Fortunately in such a small office, there are only a limited number of people to witness the dissolution of my hairdo. Such as it was, I mean. I didn't take much time putting myself together this morning for some reason. A minute ago I realized that I hadn't even remembered to put on make-up. I'll bet the world (as represented by the people in this office) is glad that I sit with my back to the room.
Darrell! He actually spoke to me today! Not only that, but he held a door open for me! This is not, let me make clear, one of those doors on a closer. It's just a door that stays open until someone closes it. Why Darrell felt that today of all days was the day he needed to stand there and wait until I'd entered before he closed it, I don't know. He even responded to my "thank you" in a very polite fashion.
Maybe it's the no make-up thing? I might look worse than I know.
The Other Brother Darrell has been chatty this week. I wanted to print to the color printer and he, as our network guy, has been unable to get the color printer to function. I think he feels guilty, but it's no big deal. I've grown accustomed to taking documents home, printing one copy on our inkjet, then taking them to Kinko's to have multiple copies made.
Not much time for blogging since I got home from Escapade (as proven by yesterday's blast from the past entry culled from a three year-old trip) because I'm trying to get Alvin ready to go on the road next week. He has to go to Minnesota (and suddenly it occurs to me to wonder if I've booked hotels or anything for that trip) and two days after he gets back, he and the Terminator are going to DC for a week.
While he is gone I will not be indulging in hours and hours of blogging daily. I will work conscientiously! I will!
(Okay, I'm not doing it at the moment, but my intentions are good.)
And!
To return, if only tangentially, to the subject of Escapade, I also want to point out that there have apparently been myriads of bitches, whines, and complaints about the vids shown and I'd like to request that you people find a ladder and get over yourselves.
You're darned lucky so many people are interested in the hours and hours it takes to put together vids for your amusement and if you can't be gracious, even when you don't care for the fandom or the subject of the vid, then be quiet.
Sheesh. It's like story critique, okay? If you want to discuss the stylistic choices or whether or not the characters are being portrayed accurately or the structure the author/vidder used, then go ahead.
If you just want to whine because no one is writing/vidding what you want to read/see, then shut up. Or write/vid it yourself.
"I don't like that kind" is not an appropriate critique of anything.
This goes especially to those of you whining about het vids. I've got a secret for you yahoos. Men have been sleeping with women for at least as long as men have been sleeping with men, okay?
Get used to the idea, it's here to stay.
Deep breath.
Okay, I'm not sure where that came from. I didn't actually sit down to rant but Ranting Happens, doesn't it?
Disasters abound in reality, maybe that's why my brain is trying to hide in fandom.
One aunt, recently diagnosed with fast-spreading, terminal cancer, seems to be responding well so far to treatment. My brother's father-in-law and two brothers-in-law were in a car accident a couple of days ago. The F-I-L broke his arm but he has bone cancer, so they can't set it. I'm assuming amputation will be the only choice. One of the B-I-L was being CAT-scanned for neck/head injuries last I heard, no update yet. Back to my family, one dregs of society cousin just got nailed for what I think is the third time on a drug bust, so he's probably going away for a long time. The day after he got picked up, his girlfriend was in a fatal car accident.
Family is such a mixed blessing. When you need them, they rally 'round, but they're also subject to these little traumatic incidents.
Be well.
Posted by AnneZook at 09:53 AMWhy has my recent Escapade adventure been reminding me of a similar and yet-so-different trip I took to Vegas in 1999?
I wrote an trip journal about said vacation and I'm about to inflict it on you for reasons that aren't quite clear to me. Maybe I'm just hard up for something to talk about today, who knows?
Stop me if you've heard this one, okay?
* * * *
After arriving, with admirable promptness, at DIA, the requisite 1 hour (Remember those days? Only an hour!) before my own flight to the City of Scantily Clad Babes and Far Too Few Scantily Clad Hunks, I checked in, snagged an aisle seat, and settled down in a comfy chair to write down a few brilliant thoughts on travelling. (I tend to do this in airports. It keeps the nuts at bay and gives me a record of the beginning of each trip.)
Minutes, if not seconds, later, I noticed a fairly well dressed man eyeballing me from beside a nearby store. I did the vacant thing with my eyes, pretending I hadn't really made contact, and looked back down at my journal.
I don't know how long it was before it was borne in upon me that this individual had crept quite close to my comfy chair and was eyeing me with an expression somewhere between lechery (no doubt my ego talking) and, "Too long since my last meal and do you work out regularly?" There was even a touch of, "Do you have room in your bag to take a small package on board the plane with you?" On an every scarier note, it occurred to me that he might want to discuss whether or not I've received Jesus as my personal savior.
My mother won't let me take presents from strangers and being prayed at makes me itch, so I refused to acknowledge this lunatic's existence until he suddenly cleared his throat and asked if I smoked. He must have been desperate – he even accepted one of my lady-thin menthol jobbies.
The entire tedious story is made fractionally less tedious by the news that I saw this same man, fifteen minutes later, accosting yet another person in the same comfy lounge area. But this time, his approach looked more like, "Wanna get a drink and maybe feel each other up?"
Since the new approachee was a man, that could have been my over-active, dirty mind at work.
Be that as it may, I grabbed my little bags and high-tailed it into the terminal where the nuts are at least screened for potential pockets full of C-4 before they're turned loose on a helpless population.
All this, and the Joy of Mallory was still in my future!
I mean, Joy of Menippee, too, yes, but she and I have done the face-to-face thing a time or two without any actual attempts to batter each other senseless with a nearby chair, so I figured we'd be okay. It was, to coin a phrase, Mallory-Happiness that we were meeting in Vegas to establish.
And establish it we did, as soon as I landed in the Capitol of Neon Sin.
Menippee first tried to ditch us in the airport parking lot but we were too smart for her and managed to throw ourselves in the car before she could drive off.
Mallory later told people that we saw David Marciano as we drove to our Casino Home and we did.
She also told people that Menippee tried to run David down with the rental car, which is also true.
What Mallory doesn't realize is that since Menippee's from LA, she's required to try and mow down second and third tier celebrities at every opportunity.
It's a pollution control thing. If they don't keep that kind of thing under control, the glare from capped teeth and LipSlickers lip gloss would cause a spontaneous eruption of everything flammable thing in the city.
My experience with hotels is quite varied. I've stayed in everything from a no-name, grunge-infested dump with Actual Things Growing in the shower all the way to the world-famous (and quite gorgeous) Broadmoor in Colorado Springs, but there's nothing like Vegas.
When booking the room, the reservations clerk insisted that we'd really enjoy a Pyramid Room and the ride sideways on the "inclinator" and she was right. This same inclinator later featured, albeit briefly, in a story that I wrote.
It was a Total Trash Vacation. Any hint of tastefulness in the surroundings would have diminished the experience, so a sideways elevator fit right in.
Still. Taste isn't something you have to consider at the Luxor, no sirree! When I tell you that it was the only casino we found that offered a dead cat slot machine, you'll understand the fine attention to detail they gave the surroundings. (Okay, cats were sacred in Ancient Egypt, and making a dead one a winner in a slot machine was in poor taste, but what the heck? Besides, it didn't pay off, which is probably some kind of karmic retribution or something.)
Vegas is the coolest place on earth. It's not an experience I'd enjoy too often, but every four or five years, I adore the flash and glitter of endless acres of neon lights, the ker-chin of a slot machine paying off (or, not), and the oddly timeless experience of never seeing a clock, a calendar, or the outside sky without making a serious effort so to do.
Anyhow…on to the Vacation Experience.
The next thing that happened was Menippee and Mallory ditching me in the casino. Yep, right after we checked into our room and unpacked. It was unnerving, because I'd been reasonably well behaved up until that point, made sure we'd all gotten keys to the hotel room (instead of taking one myself and forcing them to offer obeisances every time they wanted to visit their clean clothes) and I hadn't sung at all.
In spite of this restraint on my part, they waited until I blinked, then they ran away.
That's about it for several hours. I wandered around, spent some quarters, got my fingers all nasty, filthy dirty, looked for my friends and occasionally sobbed quietly under unused roulette tables.
Eventually it occurred to me to sneak upstairs and make apple-pie beds to pay them back. That plan was scotched by the presence of Menippee in one bed, and Mallory spread out on the other making leisurely calls to some of the 900 numbers she'd seen chalked up on the bathroom wall. I think I minded this most because she refused to put the calls on speakerphone and let me listen in. Apparently Mallory's perversions are private. Hmph.
(Nothing in the above paragraph is true except the part about Menippee being in bed when I got to the room.)
Since it was only 8:30, Mallory and I left Menippee snoozing peacefully and snuck back down to the casino. Specifically, to the bar, where we each drank a beer and made quiet but relentless mockery of the gamblers around us. After cheering on this old couple who looked like they needed a serious win, we watched in awe as some totally enraged guy fed dollar after dollar into the Big Machine and yanked the arm with a fervor appropriate to a gunner attacking an enemy stronghold. We could have made a better job of mocking him if we hadn't been afraid he'd hear us and use one of us to batter the machine into submission.
Giant Jackpot in Vegas Disallowed After Woman's Broken Body Found in Coin Slot!
That was Day One of The Big Summer Adventure.
Day Two!!
Menippee and I played possum until we heard Mallory leave the room. This was, you understand, my way of trying to make her go get some coffee and bring it to me so I could sip it in bed like a Lady of Vacation Leisure. This plan was foiled when Menippee found a note from Mallory, selfishly saying that she was going to go get coffee for herself and bring it back to drink in front of us. I gave in and ordered coffee from room service.
It arrived before Mallory's return (I was in the shower, so Menippee answered the door in her Temptress Turquoise Nightie, but this was the room service guy's tenth delivery that day, so he grabbed his tip and ran like hell).
I drank coffee and was less bitter than I might have beem when Mallory walked in the door holding a giant cup of Mickey D's brew. Besides, I'm a coffee snob and wouldn't drink MD's unless it was the last source of caffeine on the planet. So, there.
Then…the Whirlwind Casino Tour!
Let me take a moment here to apologize profusely to Mallory and Menippee. I swear if I'd known you didn't know drinks were free as long as you were gambling, I would have told you the first night! I'll admit that your insistence on finding a bar the second we entered every building had me stumped.
Our Home – The Luxurious Luxor! We liked this one best. Mostly because if we had to go to the bathroom, we could just go to our room and do so. Other casinos have the Necessary Facilities very well hidden. It's quite the challenge to find them. Also, by the time we left, I could very nearly walk around in this casino without getting lost, which is quite a feat for me.
Mandalay Bay is a sister casino to the Luxor, which means you can go to and from each of them without going outside. MB had little to recommend it beyond the House of Blues (which we skipped, although we visited the gift shop and mocked the coffee mugs) and some listless water here and there, trapped in mock ocean bays fabricated of plastic and bailing wire. This was a particular favorite of someone's (who shall remain nameless since she bribed me) because the waitresses skirts only came halfway down their butts. If they'd offered any men thusly clad, we might never have left the premises, boring décor or no boring décor.
Sirrah! Is't how thou treat'st a lady? I think not! I challenge thee! To the death for a rose from M'lady's hair!
Merlin! Magic! Round Tables!
We didn't really see anything like that at the Excalibur except for the ads they showed on the trolley. It's an interesting thought, though. What with one thing and another, we never quite managed to get around and see the Moat Monster that was billed to appear half-hourly, beginning at sunset, either. We made the usual trek to the gift shop, but I don't remember buying anything.
If I'm not mistaken, and I frequently am, the Bellagio is the one with the scantily clad statues out front, purporting to be Grecian or something. Some people will claim anything is Art just to keep from getting arrested for pornography.
The thing I remember most clearly from the Statue Casino is that I had an overwhelming urge to sneak back in the wee hours of the morning and paint all of the statues' toenails bright red. Someone in our little group suggested that a tasteful nipple ring is always in style, but no one had a chisel on them, so that idea had to be abandoned.
As always, Ballys was very tasteful inside. NOT what I go to a casino for, but there you are. Even in Vegas, there's room for a touch of class.
Caesar's Palace was...Caesar's Palace. A personal favorite, since staring at David's dangly bits with the proper expression of reverence will get you pegged as an intellectual. I remember that the plaque on the base of the statue mentioned, "growing enthusiasm and rising excitement" or something but no matter how long I looked, nothing grew. Or rose. Kind of disappointing, actually.
Bathrooms in Caesar's are particularly hard to find, I remember that. Also we went to explore the shopping area and finally had to ask for directions for how to escape that particular maze.
Caesar's was also memorable because Menippee's True Profession was uncovered by a sympathetic food service employee in the food court. I get the feeling that if Menippee had admitted she was looking for a ahem date, she might have been able to do a little trade to pay for her lunch. That's just a hunch, though.
Seriously. I told her not to wear that blouse. If she got mistaken for a Working Girl, it wasn't my fault.
The Boardwalk Casino - Mallory has discussed this House of Joy since this vacation, but I notice that she failed to mention that I won about fifty bucks in the Elvis slots. Nowhere does Mallory mention the many, many jackpots I won when she discusses this trip. I spent a lot, but by gosh some of those machines paid me a lot, too!
At one point, I was walking around with so many quarters in my front pockets that I looked...well, it was obscene, that's all.
I came home broke, but that's hardly the point.
I have no memorable memories of the other casinos, except for remembering that we danced and sang our way into the MGM. I can't remember which song. It wasn't Yellow Brick Road from The Wizard of Oz, which is unusual. Might have been something by Liza Minelli. Time and alcohol have mercifully blanked my memory.
Menippee eventually decided it was time to get drunk and we all agreed that we'd better do that at the Luxor, it being our considered decision that the odds of winding up rolled and dead drunk in a ditch would be minimized if we never went outside.
So, we hopped it back to the Luxor, I blinked, and Mallory and Menippee left me again.
Hours later, after searching for them (not as much as I pretended) and gambling (more than I admitted to), I gave up and went back to the room. It was after midnight, so I made Menippee and Mallory wake up to chat for a while, in punishment.
Day Three!!
We sobbed! This was our Last Full Day of Flashy Trashy Fun!
A repeat of yesterday's Coffee Selfishness from Mallory so I ordered the superior room service coffee and pointedly did not offer her any when she returned bearing her characteristic Giant Slurp from McCoffeeHell.
On this last day, Mallory had promised, or threatened, never to leave me. She stuck closer than airplane glue (but she smelled better) as we heartlessly abandoned Menippee and traipsed off to find M&M World.
On the way, I also found a Starbucks, so my joy was complete. It was the World's Most Delicious Latte. In fact, the guy in the Harley Davidson store threatened to steal it, until Mallory showed him the tire iron she was carrying under her jacket. Then he forgot about me and bargained desperately with her to trade her chromium steel utility tool for anything in the store. She wouldn't settle for anything less than him stripping off his pants and standing on the sidewalk with mistletoe pinned to his boxer shorts, though, so the discussion came to nothing in the end. I bought a cool shirt and, in spite of Mallory's advice, a very tasteful Harley Davidson Café pin.
Somewhere right about here, two men jumped onto the sidewalk in front of Mallory and me and offered us a helicopter ride and asked if I was Jenny's sister. Being wise to that ploy (we've heard about those impromptu organ removals), we fended them off with a combination of karate and bad breath and made our way on down until M&M World appeared in the distance.
Embarrassingly enough, we got lost in the 15 foot square store on the main level and someone had to take us by the hand and show us the escalator to M&M Joy. Once we arrived, though…whooee!
M&M goodies crammed in every corner! Mallory declared her ambition to fill her life with M&M Joy, right up until the moment she was buried in an M&M coffin. Then they kicked us out, being unwilling to admit that anyone who consumed their chocolatey, crunchy confections would ever reach The Last Bite.
Heart-breakingly enough, we had to skip the rest of our journey down the Strip and were therefore deprived of the sight of the famed Mirage Volcano, as well as the odiferous pleasures of Circus Circus. Ah, well, it leaves something for our next excursion.
Back home, to Luxor Luxury and Menippee. When we returned to the room, Menippee was asleep. Amazing how that keeps happening, isn't it?
Anyhow, she woke up, and we couldn't decide what to do, so we checked through the invitations we'd received since arriving in town. (Oddly enough, party invitations in Vegas seem to be delivered by grubby men standing on street corners and they're all published in the form of brochures.) Tami, Jeni, Susi, no one who was throwing a party was quite my cup of tea, although I believe Menippee saw an invitation that involved complex knots and motion detectors that intrigued her.
If you've heard Menippee's or Mallory's version of events, I deny everything. Except the part where Raymond was the only guy with the nerve to put his picture in a magazine...and someone should have stopped him. God help me, every time I looked at him I saw a beefier version of Duncan MacLeod.
After the first four pictures, I would have been more than willing to pay him money for the privilege of shaving him and cutting his hair. And that's all I'm going to say.
Except that the guy on the knife channel was scarier than I've ever been able to explain. If you've never heard the story, well, you'll just have to use your imagination..
That evening, more gambling but the thrill was gone. We were all tiring of the charming ker-ching of a slot machine not paying off, the stale air in the casinos was tedious, and the grim, determined faces of other gamblers were beginning to frighten us.
The next morning I relented and let Mallory have some of my fabulous Room Service Coffee before she and Menippee wended their way back to the lobby and, presumably, recovered Menippee's car to begin the long journey home.
I don't know, she thought wearily. It was all so long ago, in a country so far away. Who knows what dreams we might have brought forth, had the golden autumn days lingered but a short time longer?*
* * * *
(* That's weird and pretentious, but I can't help it. That's the way the original essay ended.)
There! Not a single thing about Spike BtVS in the whole thing!
Most important things first. I bought a new pair of shoes!
And three new books, but new books in my life aren't really that rare. Hardly worth mentioning.
And a t-shirt for my sister. I wanted a new shirt, but I had my heart set on one that said, "Oxnard" and, not finding one, decided to sulk instead.
I loved the new hotel. Both the facilities and the location, within walking distance of a dozen restaurants and two dozen stores. And a biker bar that a group of us unanimously declined to visit. "Road Rash" will forever remain an unexplored mystery, as biker bars should to those of us untattoed and without any chainlink accessories.
My fabulous room in fabulous downtown Oxnard was fabulous. It had a balcony, a view of the hot tub and pool, and my key worked every time I put it in the door. I don't ask for much out of life...these simple facts made me happy.
In theory there was high-speed internet access from each room, but mine didn't work. It didn't matter much because I didn't spend much time there anyhow.
I saw most of the best people in fandom although a few people didn't make it. I'm not going to mention names because I'd forget about half of the people and maybe offend someone but there were great people there! As usual, I felt as though I'd been let in completely by accident. Like a stray cat or something.
Panels and gossip! What a lovely experience Escapade is. Panels to discuss, or even disagree about, our favorite fannish obsessions and masses of people gathered in hallways or in the bar, doing more of the same.
I spent, you'll be surprised to hear, amazingly little time discussing Spike BtVS. There were two panels, and I attended 1-1/2 of them. (Never enough time!) I listened politely. (I don't talk much in panels unless the conversation doesn't seem to be swinging along without my invaluable help.)
I attended an X-Files panel where, in some fashion I still can't quite fathom, I found I had committed myself to writing a new X-Files story. The brain boggles. Krycek is dead and Mulder turned into such a moron that not even Skinner would have him. I'll have to dig back into the first four seasons to find something worth writing about.
The best panel by far was the first one on Friday. "Sex, schmex." It was one of those, "when did storytelling disappear in favor of endless sex scenes" discussions and drew a substantial crowd.
My take, which I did share with the group, was that sex took over slash when feedback-hungry writers started getting story comments on nothing but their sex scenes. If they wrote a 200 page story and got comments on nothing but the 3-page sex scene, they soon started leaving out most of the other 197 pages worth of material. Very few fanfiction writers are writing for the sheer love of creating a story. They're writing for feedback and strokes and are willing to do what it takes to get them. Especially if it means not having to do the work the other 197 pages required.*
Several good points were made, including the reminder that when a like-minded fan first finds slash, they tend to go overboard on the "sex between guys!" part of the concept. With so many thousands of new fans finding fandom, and slash, every month now, there's a constant influx of newbies who are fixated on The Act.
Presumably if some of them stick around long enough, they'll become jaded with sex-only stories and start to hunger for more from their fanfiction. There are good writers out there writing real stories. They're just harder to find these days because there are so many stories hitting the net every day.
(*This isn't bitterness. I wrote mostly short-short sex stories and didn't get feedback, making me uniquely qualified, I think, to diss both "storyless" stories and people who like lots of feedback.
P.S. If you read something I wrote, don't sit down today and send feedback. Really. Too little, too late and anyhow I don't really care. I mean, it's cool if someone liked it, but McSwain was the only person I was trying to please most of the time, okay? Do fandom a favor and send feedback to someone writing good stuff.)
Where was I?
Oh, yeah. Panels I have liked.
There was one on the "Loyalty Kink" that looked good but there were too many people there and by the time they spent the first fifteen minutes or more identifying "loyal" pairings (as though such things weren't obvious), I got bored and left.
I'd have liked to hear a discussion about what it is about loyalty that's such a kink for some of us and the panel did look to be heading toward such a discussion but this was late on Sunday afternoon and my brain was fried.
Hmmm...there was a Firefly panel I attended out of affection for the person leading it. I tried Firefly, liked it, but just lacked the time to make a commitment to it. Anyhow, it was dense and intelligent and required the viewer to pay attention. It was doomed from the start in a country that thinks a "reality" show about a man pretending to be a millionaire so that he can marry a starlet is fascinating entertainment.
Must. Not. Get. Sidetracked.
There were other "general" panels I wanted to attend but I frequently got involved in conversations and missed them. Maybe next year.
Next year!
Pursuant (what a great word) to complaints that there aren't enough arguments any more, I'm already working on contentious panel suggestions for next year. (Anyone that responds to these suggestions here will be smacked and fined two donuts. Save it for Escapade.)
#1 – But They Aren't Gay! (Taking back the slash)
I think that one's pretty self-explanatory, isn't it? No? Hmmm.
I liked slash back when the writers felt obligated to put 'why and how' into the story before the guys tumbled into bed. I don't require that we go back to the days when gay was evil and closeted, but I'm sick of...well, as mentioned above, stories that are nothing but two gayboys finding each other and doin' the wild thing.
Not all of the characters being slashed can reasonably be portrayed as gay. In fact, darned few of them can. Regardless of the statistically small number of "bisexual" people in our population, I prefer my BSOs to be bi.
I don't require that every kiss or shag they've shared with a woman be invalidated by a statement that he was really thinking of the pool boy all the time. In fact, I loathe it I don't share the misogyny so many fans seem to feel toward female characters. I'm perfectly happy being a woman and I'm perfectly happy to see women in stories.
I like the kind of story where a guy might have been aware of even a passing attraction to his own gender in the past but I don't like the stories where every sexual encounter he's had with a woman has been unsatisfying and he never knew true sexual pleasure until he got boinked.
Also. I'm sick of seeing the guys go from 'howdy' to boinking in sixty seconds or less. These aren't gay guys meeting in the park under cover of darkness. They exist in a context of jobs, families, and mutual friends. There are going to be some stops along the sexual highway before they get to all-out boinking. (Have none of these authors ever necked with someone?)
Anyhow. That's what that panel is about. We're not gay men writing about gay men. We're not even women writing about gay men, for the most part. These characters aren't all-out gay, although they might be bi, and slash is not the same thing as gay porn.
And I'm willing to fight about it.
#2 – My Fandom Sucks!*
Well, it does, doesn't it?
Where are the days of lively, even acrimonious debate that didn't sink into the swamp of flaming and name-calling three seconds later?
Where are the lists talking about who the characters are and how they got that way and where they might go from there? Is there anyone out there still interested in discussing how to get the guys together in a way that doesn't violate canon or invalidate the show's universe?
Are there any forums for discussing fanfiction where you can have honest discussions of the good and the bad without getting an army of sockpuppets in your face or have someone calling your boss and outing you as a slash fan? Where disagreeing with someone is understood as a disagreement and not a personal attack on someone's character?
Are there any discussion lists where "me, too!" is banned, as are postings about the health of your dog or your parakeet or speculations about the actor's personal sex life? Are there any lists where there's still interesting and intelligent discussion of the show itself, the plots of the episodes, and the motivations of the characters?
Where are the lists with grown-ups on them (of any biological age) who wanted to discuss the show they were a fan of, including the good, the bad, and the simply ridiculous?
Where are the carefully crafted stories, "case files" in themselves that provoked weeks of fascinated deconstruction and debate from thoughtful readers?
I remember when I first found on-line fandom, I found all of that in Highlander.
Heck, I found most of it in The X-Files lists, in the beginning. I found less of it as I wandered in and out of Due South and Sentinel.
Is fandom nothing now but hordes of screaming adolescents (of any biological age) drooling over nekkid weenies and becoming dangerous when their favorite actor has the temerity to date a woman instead of his male costar? Are the few intelligent and thoughtful fans remaining all in hiding or have they moved on to needlework and cartography as new hobbies?
I should point out that a friend offered to try and get me on a BtVS list recently. The list, she promised me, was full of intelligent discussion by intelligent people. After consideration, I declined. I don't have anything intelligent to say about the fandom. I just drool over Spike and since I'm three seasons behind the rest of the fandom, I'm not even drooling over the same Spike they're all watching. Still, I was encouraged by the knowledge that such a list existed.
(I'd be willing to consider that the blog, far from "killing" fandom lists, is actually going to be the savior of "good" fandom since it allows those intelligent fans who want to discuss intelligent topics, rationally and at length, to find one another.)
(*Caveat: I'm not actually on any fandom lists right now, but these are the sorts of things I hear people complaining about and a lot of the these same things are what made me give up on lists in disgust in the first place.)
#3 –Jumping The Shark
Fandom jumped the shark, okay?
With the X-Files and the Mulder/Scully fanfiction, to be specific.
That's right. At the same time that online fandom was exploding into an international phenomenon, it was already sitting on the motorcycle, heading for the fatal ramp.
I've never in my life witnessed such an outpouring of sheer, mindless crap as the unfortunate (but surely existing) intelligent het fans of that show had to put up with. (Speaking of fandom misogyny, I've always been astounded by the number of "fans" of Scully's who treated the character worse than dirt in their stories.)
The slash fiction attracted some stellar authors and produced some amazing fiction, but it had its share of life-shortening putridity, too. There were contests to produce lousy stories.
Anyhow. Some good fiction has continued to appear in the years since XF reached its fanfiction peak, in that fandom and others, but the volume of odorous garbage has continued to climb until the world's largest landfill would be insufficient to hold it all if printed out.
(*Microsoft Word is a stupid program. It actually thinks, "putridity" is a real word.)
Should I think of anything else rude between now and next year that might make a good panel, I'll keep you posted.
Posted by AnneZook at 02:55 PMFor those who care, politically, but don't know what to do, go here and join today's Virtual March on Washington to protest the war.
Thank you. This has been a public service announcement. We now return you to the intermittent, unscheduled babbling that normally fills this site.
Just because you don't write fanfic
Doesn't mean your writing doesn't suck like a Hoover. I have a friend (I do!) who has a business acquaintance who recently had a book published. This man, let's call him Elmer, asked my friend for her opinion of the book. Not being a fan of mysteries, she bought the book but asked me to read it for her, so that she could give Elmer the requested feedback.
Sucks. Like. A. Hoover.
No, it sucks like a jet engine.
I've read some published crap in my day but this book, clearly put into print by one of those, "pay us and we'll make your manuscript into a real book!" organizations is outstanding in that area.
POV shifts, tense shifts, typographical errors, grammatical incoherence, you name it and Elmer offers us multiple examples.
The plot stinks too. The point of a mystery is that the reader has to try and figure out whodunit among a wilderness of red herrings and false clues, right? I love mysteries because I ain't smart. I never figure out whodunit or why they dunnit until the detective explains it to me.
I didn't have that trouble this time around since Elmer offered us the most linear plot I've seen in any novel in years, much less in a mystery. You know who is going to die, to survive, where the crucial piece of evidence is hidden, and who is behind the murder from the second each character or event is introduced.
The entire novel (and I use the word loosely) is an example of how not to do it. He tells and tells and tells what's happening with only intermittent lapses into actually writing or "showing" the story.
The characters are largely two-dimensional and unconvincing, especially the detective. (The only exception is the baddest of the bad guys whose description would have led me to believe, had I not been assured otherwise, that the author was, (a) gay; and, (b) in lust with his bad guy.)
I've got about 20 pages left. Tonight's chore is to wade through the resolution and then come up with two or three paragraphs my friend can use to send feedback to the hopeful author.
Herein lies a moral dilemma. I am constitutionally incapable of saying that a piece of writing doesn't suck if it does. Friends have long since ceased to show me their writing, knowing that any minor, trivial lapse from perfection on their part will result in a scathing denunciation of their heritage and habits on mine.
Okay, maybe I'm not that bad, but if something isn't well-written from my perspective, I don't say that it is. Not even those who know I love them can rely upon that love to protect them.
What can I tell this friend to tell Elmer?
"The lyrical description of the assassin was well-done. Do you dream about this man?"
"It was interesting to see a male writer offering a scene where his character was incapable of an erection. Did this serve some deeper purpose in the novel that escaped me?"
"It was refreshing to read a mystery novel that didn't sidetrack the reader with all of those dead-end clues but just went straight to the point."
"So, what is your native language?"
I'm not good at beta reading but at least when friends ask me to read their stories, I can be reasonably certain they haven't committed heinous sins against the English language. Strangers who ask me and won't be persuaded to go away deserve what they get.
I annotated the book copiously as I went through it (it was the only way I could get through it), trying to work off some of my bile before it came to the "feedback" point. I guess we'll see tonight, after I finish and sit down to make a few kind notes, won't we?
I'll be back later on the subject of Escapade.
(I'm feeling smug. I didn't mention Spike BtVS even once, notice?)
Home safely from Escapade. Some of the attendees (those living in the South) faced monumental obstacles in getting home due to the weather. Here in Denver, the snow didn't start until this evening, though.
I meant to write something about the weekend today but I just lazed around the house and rested. Back to work tomorrow but I don't doubt I'll find a few minutes at some point to get some thoughts organized.
Had a great time, but it's good to be home!
Posted by AnneZook at 09:50 PMI've put up with a lot of impossibilities from this show in the interests of suspension of disbelief, but blue, fish-headed, demon bookies?
I have to draw the line.
__________ <-That's it.
Honestly! (And if the episode hadn't, by and large, been so amusing, I'd be serious.)
I accept that it's probably my failing of imagination that's giving me trouble accepting Buffy as a woman with a penchant for rough sex, too.
This is the problem, as I do understand, with seeing only random episodes. This week FX has, in its wisdom, abruptly jumped from the opening episodes of S4 to episodes in S6. So I'm missing seeing most of S4 and all of S5 to put S6 into perspective.
I'm just saying, okay? A few days ago I was watching Buffy graduating from High School and having her first, college crush. Now she doesn't want it unless the guy can use her skull to crack the building's foundations first?
Serious cognitive dissonance for the viewer, okay?
You'll suffer the most for this as I babble aimlessly over the multitudes of things I don't understand over the next few weeks.
Brace yourselves. You have the time while I'm at Escapade to find some other blog, almost any other blog to read instead of this one.
Posted by AnneZook at 08:08 PMSo, I got to watch several episodes of Spike BtVS this weekend, those being the repeats I taped off of FX last week. (Hooray! for some S4 finally showing up!) (Boo! for FX not showing all episodes and showing different episodes in the evenings when I can't tape them!) (But hooray! for FX for actually showing repeats, of course.)
I have, as usual, thoughts. I'm not sharing them with you, though. Not out of some kind of warm-hearted desire to spare you the endless rambling of my disorganized brain or anything kind like that, but because if I'm going to leave here Wednesday and not return until next Wednesday, I feel compelled to spend the time between now and the (first) Wednesday doing some real work. ("Here" being the office, in this case.)
I'll say that I had my doubts about the episode where Willow casts a spell that results in Buffy and Spike getting engaged, but that was before I saw it and now that I have I thought it was highly amusing. (If I'd have been Buffy, I'd still have taken Spike home and found a better place to chain him up than the bathtub, but I realize the dangers of revisionist viewing of these early episodes, so I won't go there.)
Also, I know know that Spike is 126 and I know that an unfed vampire turns into a "walking skeleton" which is an unattractive image at best.It's good to be getting these little questions answered.
I dunno if I'll have time for more blogging before I leave town or not. If I don't, I'll just sit and have Beautiful Spikey Thoughts all alone. If I do, well...you'll probably notice because there'll be a new entry, won't there?
I think I had something nonSpikeBtVS-related to say, but I've forgotten what it was.
Let's talk about something new for a change, okay? (Dunno what's up with the missing comments, BTW.)
Lemme see...what else is going on in my life? I dislike RPS as everyone knows, but sometimes you just have to laugh anyhow.
I'd thought of discussing demonic immortality or boomeranging souls, but those are demon-related topics and thus off-limits.
We might be at war by Monday. If not, certainly in a couple of weeks and somehow I feel compelled to make the most of these last few days.
It's a pity I haven't had a chance to watch any of the Spike BtVS episodes I've taped this week...but no, I remember, I'm not talking about that right now, am I?
Hmmm...
Escapade! I'll be there in just days! That's pretty exciting.
What with one thing and another, I didn't have much of a chance to check out the panel offerings for this year or anything, but I'm sure there will be topics I want to hear about.
And, of course, there are the gatherings, outside of formal panels, where you just yak with people. That's mostly what Escapade is about, after all.
I'm pretty eager for this year's con. Last year I was suffering the slings and arrows of recent Unemployment Depression. The year before, IIRC, was the year I was suffering the slings and arrows of Extreme Job Dissatisfaction combined with Frequent Panic Attack Syndrome with heaping helpings of Social Anxiety Disorder Freakouts.
I think I skipped the year before that, making this the first con I'll have attended where I'll be healthy both financially and emotionally (more or less) in four years.
And I get to ride on a train! From the airport to beauteous (one presumes) Oxnard! I love trains.
Of course, the down side is that Escapade is nothing if not a fandom con and I haven't been active in fandom for several years now. I was in a fandom-free zone for quite a long time.
Bowing to pressure from An Unnamed Reader, I had to stop letting Kind Friends pass on random fandom idiocies to me as well.
Apparently it isn't nice to do nothing but rant and rave. At least, that's what An Unnamed Reader told me, in no uncertain terms. I was directed to cease ranting until I had something nice to say.
As you might imagine, such a directive, directed to me, achieved nothing other than completely constipating my brain. Until my recent bout of (ahem) SpikeInfatuation, I was fairly hard up for blogging topics for several months.
As you can tell by today's entry, it's a pretty sorry state of affairs.
This afternoon I have a doctor's appointment.
This morning, I ate a cookie.
Yesterday, I broke a nail.
Okay, enough of that.
Anyhow, it occurs to me that I haven't actually been blogging about Spike so much as a sort of stream-of-consciousness musing over demonology in general. So, blogging about Spike very nearly constitutes a new topic!
I continue to be worried by the fact that these vampires on this show are so "human." It's the soul thing that bothers me.
I mean, Spike gets chipped and he can't hurt humans any more and that depresses him but after a while, he appears to feel sort of badly about vampires who still kill people, although that could be just a side-effect of the whole I Luurve Buffy subplot and his frank enjoyment of his ability to fight demons, even if no one else.
I don't think he really cares much about other vamps for the most part. Certainly not enough to care about being "one of them" when he sets out to do some slaying with Buffy and the gang. (Aside from Drusilla, of course.)
I think it would have been more interesting if he hadn't bothered to side with B&tG at the point when he realized that the chip didn't prevent him from defending himself against other demons since he didn't need B&tG to help him find fights to get into, but instead had just gone off on his own and learned how to deal with his situation.
Of course, from a fannish point of view I'm glad he became a regular on the show instead and plotwise they were already doing that whole luuurve thing, weren't they, which still might annoy me when I actually watch it happening.
Anyhow. I don't get the impression most vamps are big on loyalty and solidarity with one's peers but then it occurs to me that the Spike-Drusilla-Angel trilogy was an anomaly that way.
The Judge felt nothing but contempt for the vamps he could sense were full of human emotions and he dissed Drusilla and Spike big-time that way, but he approved of Angelus's entirely non-human focus. So why did Angelus bother with Drusilla and Spike?
Well, we know about Drusilla, but why didn't Angelus do in Spike when Spike was annoying him? Drusilla would have been annoyed, but she'd have forgiven Angelus pretty much anything.
Also, I can't remember how "old" Spike is, but vague memory tells me he's about a hundred (born in the 1880's, right? Making him about 115 when he hit the show?) and if Angelus became Angel a hundred years ago, when did they have time to do all of that bonding and becoming of a "family" that Drusilla refers to as though it was just a couple of decades ago? (Does that 1880's date refer to the date he was vamped or when he was born? Can't remember.) And where were Drusilla and Spike when Angelus was pissing off the gypsies and getting himself cursed? I can't imagine they could have been anywhere around and not getting into trouble right alongside Angelus.
Makes no sense. Not that television ever does if you look at it too closely. Sigh.
For someone who was originally brought on the show as a sort of unstoppable evil, they certainly didn't take long to start reinventing Spike.
Angel was worried when he first heard that Spike was in town, although now we know he was mostly worried about whether or not Drusilla and Spike were together at the moment, and he said something about Spike never stopping until he'd finished what he started. Even the first time around, we didn't see much of that in Spike. (Although I've suspected that they always intended to have Spike fall in luuurve with Buffy, based on his reaction to her the first time he saw her and what is it about blonde, teenage girls that makes guys go so gaa-gaa, anyhow?)
(Although now I remember that that can't be true because Spike wasn't intended to be a recurring character. Oh, well.)
(I mean, let's be honest. Yeah, Buffy was cute but Cordelia was always ten times prettier. Can't have been the I'm a cheap slut wardrobe they put Buffy in because Cordelia and 80% of the schoolgirls on the show dressed the same way. Can't have been personality because, let's face it, Buffy's nothing special there. Aside from the slayer abilities, she's a carbon copy of a million other teenagers.)
(Perhaps more will be revealed as I watch future seasons. Maybe she'll develop a more distinct personality or exhibit some talent for understanding or compassion or cooking or something that makes her stand out from the crowd.)
Where was I?
Oh, yeah. Spike and that 'unstoppable' rumor. It's a pity they haven't, yet, revisited that part of his character in the eps I've seen (which, granted, are few in the post-Drusilla era).
I would have expected him to be a stronger character than he was developed into.
After all, when Giles was first talking about Drusilla, he referred to her as Spike's "sometime paramour" which implies that they'd fought and split before so why did this one break-up send him over the edge so badly?
Was he somehow afraid that she was right, that he was becoming, in vampire terms, "weaker"? Was he supposed to already be feeling the pangs of humanity, or luuurve, this long before he got the chip?
Inconsistent characterization drives me nuts but I have to remind myself, repeatedly, that there are a lot of episodes I haven't seen yet and that Spike features largely in the show in later seasons.
Sigh. It's a long time until the S4 DVDs are going to be released.
Posted by AnneZook at 12:16 PMI have webstats on this page, which I remember to check every so often to see, (a) if anyone is actually reading this stuff; and, (b) where they're from.
I'm surprisingly popular in Finland. I don't get that.
And today, about 40 different people have shown up here, which is unsettling. At least one person seems to be running through the archives, which is completely disconcerting.
Should I feel compelled to start being relevant or amusing? The pressure is immense. 40 people went to the trouble to click their mouse buttons...and this place is all the reward they got? I pity the person looking for Relic Hunter slash, as I do the person who searched for CSI fanfiction. Granted, the graphics here are nice, but still. It's hardly the smutfest these individuals were hoping to find. In the end, and pursuant to my usual policy of disregarding reality when it doesn't match up with my expectations, I've decided it's some kind of software glitch, so I'm going to continue talking to myself and my imaginary audience.
I prefer an imaginary audience because they never call you on getting your facts wrong or write you querulous e-mails about your mistreatment of the semi-colon.
I know people capable of defending the mistreated semi-colon, but none of them show up here, thank goodness. I admire their knowledge in a sort of open-mouthed, awed fashion, but punctuation rules have always been a problem for me. I acknowledge this, as I acknowledge the fact that it's only my own laziness that has prevented me from acquiring the skill to use these necessary adjutants to communication.
For those who know better, here are some marks for you: (. . . . , , , " ' ' ' ; ; ; ; : : : )
Scatter them about wherever you feel the page requires them and make me appear smarter, okay?
Now...on to the show.
Yes, I taped Spike BtVS last night. No, I haven't had a chance to watch it yet.
Also, as it turns out, the person who was going to give me tapes had S1-S3 tapes to offer. Since I bought those three seasons on DVD, I was able to offer her my gratitude but tell her she didn't have to bother.
Yes, I checked what I got taped on FX yesterday and hooray! I'm getting at least part of the arc where Spike gets chipped this time around. No, I haven't had a chance to watch the episodes yet.
With a sigh of relief, you tell yourself that at least you won't have to sit through another aimless ramble on the subject of canon demonology or a bitter diatribe against actors who walk around with their mouths half-open all the time.
You're quite mistaken.
When I obsess, I obsess.
Yesterday, half my brain spent the day proofreading and editing account management documentation and the other half of my brain contemplated the question of how the show might have managed to portray Spike in love with Buffy without, as I fear will happen, turning him into a poodle.
I also spent some time contemplating the character of Buffy and acknowledging that my pattern in fandom is to ignore the "hero" character of a show in favor of brooding endlessly over the motivations and morality of secondary characters.
As it happens, I don't find Buffy any more interesting, or any more three-dimensional, just because she's a she. She interests me no more than McLeod did on HL or Fraser did on dS. I find the inconsistencies the character is forced into in the name of moving the plot along irritating an unbelievable. Willow is a lot more interesting.
Anyhow.
I've been considering this "human personality" versus "demon personality" thing, which seems to be worrying me more than it should. (For those keeping score, we have now arrived at today's topic.)
I started with this whole id, ego, superego approach, but that's too simplistic, so I've gone back to deciding to accept the premise that some kind of demon spirits loiter around the ether, waiting for a human to get bitten, then they swoop in and take over.
(Do you suppose they follow vampires around, hoping to get lucky, or are there so many of them that there's always a spirit handy when you want one? Is the delay that takes place before the body reanimates caused by a demonic version of commuter traffic or because there are six of them duking it out over who gets the body?)
(How about animals? Can you vamp an animal? Could you turn a wolf or a monkey into a vamp? If not, why not? Surely the potential a wolf or a wild dog has for wreaking havoc is substantial? What is this affinity for humanity? Is it a sort of race war carried on by demons who remember when they ruled the planet?)
Not to digress, although I already did, I'm also considering the "strength" of the vampire, as reflected in (1) longevity, and (2) sheer evilness.
What does the "human personality" bring to this equation? Does the "demon spirit" bring anything more than a renewed ability to walk and talk and a connoisseur's interest in blood types?
Is, in fact, the "demon spirit" just a handy scapegoat the remnants of the humans' consciences create to excuse their behavior?
What, precisely, does this "demon" or vampire spirit consist of? I know that Buffy, in later seasons, excuses Spike's previous naughtiness (and Angel's, one presumes), during pre-soul days, with the explanation that he didn't have "free will" but I'm doubting that premise.
I mean, yes, we're accepting that whole demon spirit thing, but it's not like most vamps are wild and untamed things, dashing from neck to neck in a frenzy of blood-lust, is it? A certain amount of control is always present, as are choice and decision-making ability.
If there is indeed a lack of "free will" for the human...well, really, how is that possible? It's self-contradictory to the notion that the "human" is dead and that the reanimated body and personality traits have nothing to do with the "person" who used to inhabit the corpse. And you can't say that the "soul" which seems to define "human" in this canon had/didn't have free will because as we've seen the soul is off somewhere, drinking martinis, while all of the carnage takes place, so it's not a matter of the "soul" having free will since it was on leave.
Where does the soul go and how is it possible for some vampires to get "their" souls back? These aren't "their" souls, right? Vampires don't have souls, do they? These are the souls that used to inhabit the vampire-resurrected bodies is all.
Why does a soul have an affinity for one body over another? If such an affinity does exist, it implies an ongoing connection with the body, one that lasts past death, which makes the whole "eaten by worms" thing sort of distasteful, not that it wasn't already.
It also implies that the "person", however you define a unique individual, continues to exist past the loss of "their soul" since "they" are present to "regain" their souls.
Which answers my question (Yes, I'm surprised myself. I don't think I've ever come full circle and arrived at an answer before, have I?) that the evil and the strength of the vampire must be significantly impacted by the "human personality."
That also satisfactorily answers my question about why vampires seem to be, on the whole, such an ineffectual bunch o'goomers.
Viewed like this, though, being vamped seems to be more a matter of upsetting a balance. Removing the "soul" that governs conscience or imposes guilt or whatever it does and substituting, instead, a sort of two-dimensional, demonic "me-generation" inspired selfishness.
I mean, yes, vamping is defined as evil because:
(1) Someone is killed to make a vamp, although I'm starting to have doubts about that part and it seems that what actually happens is someone's body is killed and then reanimated, but the "person" is sort of divided. The "two halves" of this person seem to continue to exist although they function differently when apart.* The "soul," as I said before, seems to head for the hills while the-rest-of-whatever-it-is-that-makes-a-person-a-person-in-this-canon hangs around and contributes their strengths and weaknesses to the "demon spirit" in the interests of future survival, not only for the spirit, but for the remaining "personality." (Proving, among other things, that most people really will do anything to survive.)
(* Right now, I'm awaiting the gratitude of the multitudes. This was a great place to discuss Cartesian dualism and I very nearly gave you an essay on the subject. Count your blessings, okay?
For those possessed of intellectual curiosity and having too much time on their hands, there's an interesting and possibly relevant discussion here.)
(2) Vamps kill (actually kill-until-dead) people.
So then, I ask myself, if vampires fed primarily on mice or birds, or simply required huge amounts of animal blood in order to subsist, would they still be considered such an evil? Isn't it, in the end, the whole jumping out of bushes and biting passersby shtick that really annoys the populace?
I suspect I'm wandering from my original point. I usually am by this time.
Hmph. I checked and I'm still discussing the same topic!
I'm astonishingly linear today. I mean, I don't remember where I was going, but I'm going there by a fairly direct route. That's progress, right?
Ah, yes. Evil, and blaming demons for same. If I prove to have further thoughts, I'd probably better save them for a new entry. This is getting absurdly long and I just remembered that I made a resolution to stop spending hours blogging when I'm supposed to be working.
Next time: Longevity: Do it really make you smarter or do you just learn to dread rainy Sundays?
Coming soon: The Soul: What is it and how do I get the tarnish off of mine?
Actually, nothing of the sort, but I can never resist alliteration.
So...what about these demons, anyhow?
(Is there anyone here unaware of the fact that we're discussing Spike BtVS? Good.)
So, we got yer standard vampire demons, we got some slimy ones with tentacles, we got the friendly, bar-hopping, wedding-attending ones, we got the about to be spawned and start wreaking havoc big baddies variety, we got the vengeance demons, and we got the drag some assembly-line fodder down to our level of hell demons. What else?
I think that's all I've seen so far except Whistler, who is clearly in a different category and while I'm full of speculation on how he got his job and if he's up for promotion and just exactly how much advance information he gets and from whom, that's really a whole, separate topic and I'm trying to be a lot more linear today.
What other kinds of demons are there? If there can be a demon like Anya who is under a geas to fulfill vengeance-related wishes of women, is there a similar demon that works on behalf of men?
What other purposes do demons exist to fulfill? How much energy does it take from an infuriated population to spawn a demon inspired to act on people's wishes? (Or, in fact, is that how vengeance demons came into being at all?)
Why are there demons dedicated to fulfilling wishes, even naughty ones? What other kinds of wishes can be granted?
Are there demons running around under compulsions to rend limb from limb those thieves who steal shopping carts from stores and leave them, abandoned and forlorn beside the roadway?
Is there a demon in charge of ripping the noses off of people who cut you off in traffic?
Where do all of those abandoned socks beside the road come from? Is this some kind of evidence of demonic activity? Are odd socks stolen from people who take your clothes out of the washer and throw in on the dirty laundry-room table? A sort of on-the-job training program for newbie demons*?
Clearly not. Okay, then, demons aren't somehow "created" or "inspired" by the sheer amount of negative energy people put into some pet peeve.
Maybe it's some kind of primal energy thing. Maybe all of the specialty demons were created back when the world was simpler, there were fewer people around, and there was less static interference from tens of thousands of conflicting aggravations.
Maybe it's a question of focus. Too many people getting too pissy about too many different subjects these days. I'm sure the vibrations in the ether are very confusing.
No wonder a bunch of demons are sitting in bars, swilling swill and looking lost and forlorn. They were probably slated to become vengeance demons and then found themselves in a tug of war between the people who want tailgaters to be squished in an earth mover and people wishing deboning on in-laws who don't call before dropping by.
What's a demon to do?
* Are there newbie demons? Demons-in-training? Where do they come from? Were they all present in the long-ago beginning and have they been hiding ever since, coming out occasionally to chomp a neck or did they somehow get trapped in one of the many versions of hell and have they been leaking out of the hellmouth and/or other places ever since?
Can you draw a pentagram and summon up a demon and if you do, do they really have to do your bidding? Because the kitchen floor at my place is a disgrace and I'm just not in the mood for mopping, okay?
I'm assuming there are greater and lesser demons. Certainly most of the vamps we've seen have been lesser demons. I mean, I can't imagine any truly big, bad evil being content to lurk in bushes and take a chance on a fresh meal wandering by. They'd organize a buffet and have a raffle or something.
There's not much luring going on, is there? In most vamp mythology the vamps have some kind of hypnotic power. It's probably just as well that BtVS didn't go that route.
Some demons, as we've discussed before (okay, I discussed it and you tried not to listen), are more proactive than others. Is this a product of the human being they infest or a reflection of the demon personality itself?
If it's a reflection of the human being, then all of that about the "person" being dead and what's left just being a shell of personality inhabited by evil doesn't make much sense. Plus which, is there's no "person" in the "person" then surely you'd be able to tell that by looking in their eyes if it was a friend or loved one? Although, admittedly, most people don't look closely at those they've known for a long time.
Of course, it could be the demon's personality, which begs the question of why there are so many lackadaisical demons boogying around. Hell must be a seriously boring place if they're content to lurk around Sunnydale after dark for thrills. So far, beyond the biting thing, I haven't seen many vamps doing much with their time. A lot of loitering, that's all.
Spike's explanation of most vamps not really wanting Armageddon still makes sense, but beyond that, what motivates your average vampire? Is it nothing more than the next meal?
Next time: What was all of that about the big evil being a "demon" instead of a "demon-human hybrid"? Why are we having a lot of inferior demons palmed off on us? Did we fail to pay our bills on time? How do we get in line for the first-class product?
And what happens to the demon when you stake the vamp? Is it dead-dead, or is it sent back to hell to try again, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars?
P.S. Did you notice that I didn't drool about Spike at all? I'm trying not to jinx it...tonight I just may finally get the episode where he gets kidnapped and gets the chip stuck in his head, so that I'll finally understand exactly how all of that happened. So I'm trying not to annoy fate....
Posted by AnneZook at 02:20 PM
Hmph
And what's the deal with those demons, anyhow? I've been thinking about the whole demon thing and I have Many Questions.
Stay tuned.
Posted by AnneZook at 08:17 AMLike...proving that I'm not single-mindedly obsessive.
I started to post a bit of nothing for a Once a Thief story I'm working on in between bouts of obsessing over Spike BtVS but then it occurred to me that posting bits and pieces of a story that may or may not ever be completed would be a lot more obnoxious.
So, I'm not.
But I wanted you know know I was thinking about you. And about Mac and Victor.
SpikeObsession!
(Hey, there are over a million blogs on-line. No one's forcing you to read this one!)
First, due to circumstances beyond my control, I didn't get to watch tonight's new ep. Sigh. I mean, okay, I should stop trying to catch S7 when I haven't seen S4, S5, or S6, but still.
So, as I was saying earlier, I rewatched the S2 two-part ender, all about Angel's past and stuff, and now I know that he survived on very little blood for quite a long time. I mean, I'm sure Whistler was being facetious when he said, "a rat a month" but certainly we were to understand Angel was on the verge of starvation for a long, long time.
I'm not sure about the whole soul thing, though. I mean, can the soul control the demon? Is that why possession of same made Angel willing to starve for decades? Or does he do it from sheer strength of will because of the memory of the horrors he'd committed? That's a lot of willpower. I'm not sure, if I was starving, if I'd have been able to resist getting a decent meal for decades on end, okay? Maybe I would have, I don't know, but still. That whole Donner party thing comes to mind and yes, apparently the buffet was deceased in that case, but….
The whole soul thing is a mystery to me. I like the idea that a vampire can get their soul back, though. It opens up potential.
And, of course, rewatching these episodes and less distracted by Spike's beauty, I listened more closely to what he was saying. That whole speech about how most vampires are all "big talk" but don't really want Armageddon made sense. Fits in with the whole "lost boys" mythos that so much of this version of vampirism seems to be based on.
Plus which, Spike looked prrretty while he was saying it all. Heh. I liked him when he was whomping on Drusilla, too. I wonder if she shows back up again?
I think Spike and Buffy are cute together, but it's more of a "traditional" pairing than Spike with the psychotic Drusilla, so consequently a less-interesting pairing dramatically.
As I said before, I didn't get to see/tape this week's episode, but I did see most of last week's and I noticed two things.
#1 - Spike. Pretty.
#2 - Spike. Doing very little except staring moon-eyed at Buffy and watching her back. Lap dog. Borrring.
I do fear seeing how they go about leashing Spike. Seems to me that the show can't but get more "ordinary" if all of the "bad guys" are either killed or have their rough edges smoothed over so that they can join the white-hats, you know?
And this thing of everyone falling in love with Buffy got old by S3. I can't believe they're still doing it in S7.
Someone sent me a link to a site that appears to have a lot of backstory, discussion, and links to other BtVS sites on it. I bookmarked it but haven't had time to read yet. Actually, I looked, but the first thing I found was a discussion board that seemed to be more involved with saying, "hi! I'm post number fifteen!" than with discussion the show, so I decided it would have to wait until I had more time.
In any case, now that I have access to the information I requested, I'm remarkably reluctant to go ahead and dig into it. Maybe I'm happier speculating in a vacuum? Ignorance is bliss when you're in my brain. Maybe I'm sort of afraid to see what's been happening for the last season or two?
Posted by AnneZook at 12:06 PMI'm doing pretty well with my resolution to spend my days working instead of blogging.
On the other hand, I rewatched the two-part Spike BtVS Season Two season ender on Sunday evening and now I have New Thoughts.
Watch this space....
Posted by AnneZook at 01:37 PMIn case you were wondering
Happy as I am to be here today addressing you, I must admit that I didn't prepare a topic in advance.
First, let me thank the organizers of this fine event for giving us all something to do while we drink our morning coffee. Let's have a round of applause for those fine folks, okay?
Second, let me take a moment to speak to the Kind Reader who sent me the ipreviously mentioned nformative post with instructions for how one might deal with Geezers in Grocery Stores. Much food for thought certainly but I'm currently balancing the pleasure of the moment against the somewhat liberal odds that a jail sentence would result.
Does anyone have suggestions, a spell or a potion maybe, that could be used to alleviate Psychotic Checker Syndrome?
I thought not.
Aw, well, keep me posted.
Another Kind Reader, via comments, suggested that I slap myself and get over the Spike BtVS thing. To her, I say, Bah! And also, humbug! And, while I'm at it, a touch of the old pot, meet kettle. I'm not the only obsessive personality in these parts my child. Your secrets are mine. Don't ever forget that.
Yet another Kind Reader finally wrote to tell me that the S4 DVDs won't be released until June. That sucks.
I'm just saying. Now that I've decided to grace this fandom with my personal attention, they should be catering to my desires a little more. The next DVD player I buy is going to be one of those fancy, multi-region ones.
Today I must vacuum the carpet and carry out some trash. Not a strenuous agenda but, remembering last Sunday, I need to add something quasi-strenuous. A brisk, mile-long walk in the late-afternoon or something.
And before anyone tells me to embrace my insomnia and make it my friend, let me warn you that I've got PMS, okay? What I'd really like to do it bitchslap my insomnia back to the netherworld.
Actually, I think I've had PMS for the last two or three days. I mean, speaking of bitchslapping, I've been restraining myself with both hands to prevent myself from doing the same to a witless, congenital idiot with an underdeveloped sense of reality who is insisting that passage in the 19th century of laws to make it illegal for a man to kill his wife is one instance of proof that women are and have always been the "privileged" gender.
Ahem. Okay...deep breath.
I bring the subject up, not to thresh it all out again in this forum, but to mention, with a sort of distant bemusement, that my inner feminist has been reawakened by this experience in much the way that the gift of the Presidency to that man reawaked my inner liberal.
I'm currently putting as least as much passion, time, and energy into politics as I ever put into fandom.
Hobbies are odd things, aren't they? I never would have thought, when I was searching for a way to spend those idle hours that might have been dedicated to laundry and dusting the bookshelves, that I would settle on politics. (Lest anyone think such a hobby is devoid of opportunities for mockery, let me point out that just this past week I had the opportunity to heap piles of scorn on a woman who actually wrote a little fantasy about imagining George Bush, as Clark Kent, ripping off his clothes to expose his 'S' during the State of the Union speech. No, this wasn't some deranged fan, it was a deranged national columnist and she posted this in her column in a nationally known newspaper. Psychos abound in this field.)
Not that that matters here, today, in this forum, because this is the me-me-me blog. Except that there isn't much me-me-me yet today since I just got up and haven't actually done much except work for the past week.
Well, okay, I watched most of the S2 Spike BtVS DVDs again, of course. Goes without saying, doesn't it?
Even though their exclusion of about two out of every three episodes is annoying, I'm still looking forward to the time when FX gets back to showing S4. Something is better than nothing, right?
Of course, it will be a decade before I finally get to see Seasons 5-7, I'm sure, but whatever. Doesn't matter what I want.
(Sorry. Little PMS moment there.)
As it happens, I know someone with tapes who has offered to loan me a chunk of tapes, so I shouldn't be whining. At least not until after I see which seasons she's loaning me.
And, speaking of Spike (I was, even if you weren't), I'm having More Thoughts about the canon on this show.
(You gotta love having a topic where you possess a complete absence of facts. Really opens up the field of speculation.)
I'm still a little unclear on this demon possession thing. I know how it goes. Bite, drain, return favor, voila! vampire, but I don't get the point.
In one place, maybe in more than one, they say that vampires are choosy about who they "bring over" or whatever they call it, but it seems to me that a pretty motley collection of characters has been deemed "worthy" by someone.
I mean, who thought that Research Boy, the little geek that helped Spike and Drusilla figure out Drusilla's cure, was a suitable candidate for an eternity of blood-sucking evil? The guy looked like a dry-cleaner and was afraid of his shadow.
And Harmony? What on earth was wrong with Spike that he thought anyone would want to spend a week, much less eternity, with such a half-wit? (If you make someone a vampire and then change your mind, is it considered in bad taste to off them?)
Nor did I understand Angel's early fascination with Drusilla, but I'm less interested in that, of course. What is it about Drusilla that makes her supposedly a Big Evil, anyhow? So far I haven't seen her doing anything except have visions (useful, but hardly evil) and threaten to poke people's eyes out. Granted, the whole poking thing is something I'd rather pass on, personally, but I don't see anything else out of the ordinary about her.
Maybe it's revealed in later seasons, I don't know. I do find her less annoying post-healing, though. Now that she's not running around with her mouth hanging open, on the verge of drooling on herself all of the time, she looks less like a lobotomy patient. (Also, she combs her hair, post-healing, a pastime I approve of.)
Anyhow. If these demons, or bits of demons or whatever they are, are all about evil, why are they only bringing over people they seem to "like"? Why not roam the back alleys and biker bars of the planet and bring over some seriously mean characters who can add psychotic personality flaws to the natural human-hating inclinations of the demons?
If I were in charge, these things would be organized a lot better, I can tell you.
Also…is burial required for those about to be reborn as vamps, or is it possible to just drop the body into a quiet corner and wait? Is it sheer ritual and tradition or does burial serve a purpose? How long does the transformation take?
And what about all of the other variety of demons who appear to be non-vampiric but are running around Sunnydale? What is it with these characters? Does the Hellmouth emit some kind of cosmic rays that the demons like to bask in? Is this why they don't just spread out across the continent, if not the planet, and wreak havoc at such distant locations that no one Slayer would be able to stake them all? It would up their individual odds of survival, surely they see that?
Not that they seem to care about such things. For evil beings, these guys are remarkably social, aren't they? I mean, they have their own bar and everything. They go to weddings.
You don't see them out on the streets much, though, do you? I mean, in one bar scene, there must have been a dozen or more assorted demons, sitting around drinking some kind of unimaginable swill. Why weren't they out killing people?
Whoever demonized these characters must be tearing their hair (or tentacles) out in frustration. I'm serious. You just can't get good help these days. There's just no commitment to the job.
I'm thinking that one of my original speculations might have been right. Evil demon possession or no evil demon possession, most "people" just don't have the drive and determination to go out and make a success of things on their own. Everyone waits for someone else to come up with a plan.
I mean, supposedly they all get this supernatural strength and this lust for blood when they're demonized, right? Why aren't they out running amok? I don't see many of your average demons running amok. Newbies, mostly. Do they get some kind of control if they survive for a while? Is that whole, bite everything that moves thing just a phase, like a two year-old putting everything they get their hands on in their mouths?
How much blood does a vampire need on a daily basis, anyhow? And how long can they go without it? What happens to them? Do they just get hungrier and hungrier?
And, while I'm at it, who are these friends of Anya's? They seem like a fairly genial bunch. What's their purpose for existing? Are they vampires I just haven't seen vamping anyone yet? What is it with all of these demons not being demonic?
Did Angel and Spike and Drusilla and vamps like them just get lucky and get possessed by the spirit of a more proactive evil?
Or, maybe I should say Angel and Drusilla because when Spike isn't being led by the nose by one of them, he doesn't seem to get up to that much. Not in a big way, I mean. He's not all apocalyptic or anything.
Actually, he's kind of an insecure mess, isn't he? Starting with his period of weepy mourning for the slack-jawed Drusilla, he's always got some petty-schemer variety plan to make himself more powerful going, but he seems to lack any deep-seated conviction about it.
I'm not sure I'm going to like the episodes where he comes over all lurrrrve-enthralled to Buffy. I mean, sure, it worked for Angel because of the contrast. Big Evil vs. Big Brooding, you know?
I'm not sure I see the point of taming Spike. Dramatically, I mean. In the context of the show.
Anyhow, I like him this way.
Of course, he couldn't have become a regular on the show if they hadn't put him under some kind of control. I do understand that.
I also understand that he gets a chip in his head that prevents him from hurting people which sounds like a process that's going to annoy him pretty extremely and also, either before or after that time, he gets all in love with Buffy, but I'm not sure I'm going to like the character as much when they turn him into Buffy's lapdog, that's all. What's the point of a fangless vampire?
Maybe they work with that concept. I mean, finding a 'point' for a fangless vampire, but I strongly suspect that, dramatically, they confine themselves to having him loiter around and be in lurrrve.
Bah.
Posted by AnneZook at 10:46 AM