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Current Mood: sad
Current Location: the home office

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Dept. of Music Says Goodbye

Sly and Brian

It's tempting to say they received the gift of creating music from the angels. That's not the case. They made that music all themselves. They worked at it, struggled to get it right; just right, as they interpreted "just right." They worked with others. They worked alone. They got it wrong. They swore. They fell down. They got up. They won and they failed. And they won again.

They both were visited by demons. They fought them. Sometimes they lost. Sometimes they won. They did a lot of falling down and getting back up again. And when they could, they went back to making that music.

And the angels were just a little shocked; just a little jealous. A little glad the music had come into being.

I hope they're somewhere, exchanging notes about how they made some celestial bangers even before they got there.

Watch on YouTube

(Don't mind the spotty visual - it's live and it's dynamic, and it's him and his family, so it's just right.)

Watch on YouTube

Current Mood: enraged
Current Location: the home office
Current Music: RM & Tablo "Stop the Rain"

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Dept. of The Fall of Empires

Jesus Fucking Christ

It's already been bad for days out in LA, and now the motherfuckers are deploying marines there? Marines? The actual military?

It's only a matter of time - days? - before they send them into my city. Fuck. My neighborhood might not be as heavily Hispanic as Pilsen or Humboldt Park, but Rogers Park has a big enough undocumented community that ICE thugs have already been reported hanging around; at least that's the report. Last week I hoped it was just a fear-fueled rumor. Now?

Sorry for the swearing; but not too sorry. The moment calls for it.

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: the home office
Current Music: Ateez "Wonderland"

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Dept. of Putting It Out There

For the ~~Millions~~ ~~Thousands~~ ~~Hundreds~~ ~~Dozens~~ ~~Handful~~ of My Fans

I finally decided I might as well put this piece of RPF-adjacent fic up here. Alert the press.

Also, I'm putting the MV here (under a cut, I'm not subjecting folks to it if they don't want to see it), so that if you do want to read it, you have the MV there as proof of what sparked this ~~ridiculousness~~ creativity.

( Watch )

With that handled, here's the story, under its very own cut.

Fandom: Stray Kids, Stray Kids "Escape" MV

Words: 1,826 per AO3

*** *** *** *** ***

( Read more... )

Current Mood: busy
Current Location: the home office
Current Music: Bill Evans

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Dept. of Brief

Proof of Life

It's been a minute, so I decided to touch down for at least half of another minute.

In brief: before I even got past the third Dr. Who, and despite doing my damnedest to avoid any spoilers, I read the wrong headline *shakes fist at The Guardian*, so I'm avoiding actually watching the remaining episodes until I can bear to watch them. That's not logical in the least, but there you go.

Acting on advice from

lilacsigil , I adjusted my AO3 Stray Kids fanfic's fandom tag, taking it out of SKZ fandom and tagging it as part of music video fandom. I also cut my note so that it didn't sound so awfully condescending. That made me feel better. It also gave me the chance to do a bit of editing, and that was even better. I'm not sure I'll post it here. I have to see if my conflicting impulses eventually pan out that way.

We have one of our old bachelor friends coming over this afternoon; he wants help navigating his computer, which Bob will handle. He also wants help understanding his smartphone, and that's going to be my responsibility. This gentleman has previously had a flip phone, or some kind of dumb mobile; he really doesn't like mobiles, but I think he finally admitted that they're necessary in modern life, and so he got the smartphone, and now he needs help navigating it. We'll see if I can help him out.

I think that's all, but I hope to post again later today.

Current Mood: contemplative
Current Location: the home office
Current Music: Ateez, "Say My Name"

Entry tags:

Dept. of Remembrance

Happy Birthday, Mum

This is Mary Glen Keirstead Routliffe Stirling. She was born on May 30, 1927, in Greenwich, Nova Scotia, Canada. For most of her life, she lived within 10.5 miles of the house where a midwife delivered her.* Nova Scotia was where she died, on Oct. 27, 2013. Nova Scotia was her home.

In the 13 years since she died, I've generally remembered her on the anniversary of her death, and I'll undoubtedly do that again. But today, when she would have turned 98 if she hadn't moved on, I wanted to turn my face to the sky and sing Happy Birthday to her. I hope she and my stepdad, Rob Stirling, young and beautiful again as they were when they fell in love, are together.

And I like to think that after a modest dinner at a modest heavenly restaurant, with a birthday cake that has all the taste and none of the calories, that they will leave the restaurant, and dance together, twirling and laughing, in the stars.

I love you, Mum.

*She spent a short time in Montreal as a newly minted nurse, and later, in the years she was married to my father, she lived in or around Mont Joli, Quebec. Together, those probably consisted of no more than five years.