là Đinh Hợi
Vạn sự như ý!
If you don't have a whole boiled chicken the way your bà ngoại used to make it, well, you're completely missing out.
(And what's this "Valentine's Day" that everybody's been complaining about? ;)
Vạn sự như ý!
If you don't have a whole boiled chicken the way your bà ngoại used to make it, well, you're completely missing out.
(And what's this "Valentine's Day" that everybody's been complaining about? ;)
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Radio poems for the disenfranchised
Shiira crashed three times and took down three drafts of this before LJ remembered how to autosave the web form. So, no explanation for you. Just read.
( since feeling is first )
( At Tea )
( Mahogany China )
( since feeling is first )
( At Tea )
( Mahogany China )
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Ah, memories.
You know, I'm thinking that "wank" is just one of those evolving words, like "soulbond", that totally didn't mean three years ago what it means now. Once upon a time, post comment threads could consist of something other than vague target-bashing that's supposed to be witty but mistakes wit for acid. Not that it has to be positive, but seriously? There are more amusing ways to make fun of something or somebody than to go "ZOMG STUPID BINT SHOULD DIE NOW LOL DEAD FROM COKE IZ PASTEDE ON YEY".
So, "wank" once meant masturbation, then humorous self-importance, and now has devolved to mean anything set up for mass mockery that fails to be humorous AT ALL 99.999999% of the time, because no one's really putting any effort, thought, or consideration into it. Sarcasm isn't always funny. Heck, judging from most examples of Impromptu Snark Humor, most of it isn't. (I wonder if this is why oldtimers were always complaining about newbies.)
I did get some good advice that time around in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
poetryslamming, if you exclude the useless one-word potshots. And heck, after a while of bashing heads in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
religiousdebate, those one-word potshots are downright cuddly. So I might take another try sometime with this journal. That is, if the mod doesn't still think I'm naienko or that she was a sockpuppet of mine. You'd think that her replies all being quotes from Pope and mine being actual direct replies to the comments with good criticism would tip people off, but. Then again, we'd both have been technically "trolling", right? (There's a question. If take it seriously and aren't being an ass to anyone, are you a troll? Or a disgrace to wankers everywhere?)
Maybe sarcastic humor has passed its prime. I wonder what would happen if everyone let it rest and tried, say, Dada for while, or least tried to say something funny WITHOUT using "stupid", a synonym of "stupid", statement of innate unchangeable inferiority, or statement that someone should "get off the planet" (or internet, or what). Remember "the wank is coming from inside the house"? Well. Have fun with the endless unexplained injokes, at least.
So, "wank" once meant masturbation, then humorous self-importance, and now has devolved to mean anything set up for mass mockery that fails to be humorous AT ALL 99.999999% of the time, because no one's really putting any effort, thought, or consideration into it. Sarcasm isn't always funny. Heck, judging from most examples of Impromptu Snark Humor, most of it isn't. (I wonder if this is why oldtimers were always complaining about newbies.)
I did get some good advice that time around in
poetryslamming, if you exclude the useless one-word potshots. And heck, after a while of bashing heads in religiousdebate, those one-word potshots are downright cuddly. So I might take another try sometime with this journal. That is, if the mod doesn't still think I'm naienko or that she was a sockpuppet of mine. You'd think that her replies all being quotes from Pope and mine being actual direct replies to the comments with good criticism would tip people off, but. Then again, we'd both have been technically "trolling", right? (There's a question. If take it seriously and aren't being an ass to anyone, are you a troll? Or a disgrace to wankers everywhere?)Maybe sarcastic humor has passed its prime. I wonder what would happen if everyone let it rest and tried, say, Dada for while, or least tried to say something funny WITHOUT using "stupid", a synonym of "stupid", statement of innate unchangeable inferiority, or statement that someone should "get off the planet" (or internet, or what). Remember "the wank is coming from inside the house"? Well. Have fun with the endless unexplained injokes, at least.
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Karate nurses and fanservice!
I ♥ subjects that are completely tangental to what the heck I'm actually talking about. Don't you?
Anyway. One comic I've been following for over a year is RAY, by Akihito Yoshitomi, licensed and translated by ADV. Mrr. But anyway, it's a good series. Nice levels all around of what the hell, what the shit, and what the FUCK, as well as x-ray vision, kickboxing nurses, the best Not-A-Pirate dude ever, and an unabashed admission that the whole thing is really just a fanfic spinoff of Osamu Tezuka's Black Jack.
So this week, we discovered that there's a TV adaptation out, RAY The Animation, and it's being digitally fansubbed by Froth-Bite, whom we ♥. (We also ♥ Seichi, Soldats, and Lunar. They do good work.) After downloading two episodes by BitTorrent last night and watching them this morning, I give it one and a half thumbs up as far as adaptations go. Why not two thumbs? Well. It's cheesy in the right places, serious in the right places, Misato, Ray, and Dr. Sawa are dead on, but.....
...when the HELL did Shinoyama get a haircut so you could see his EYES?! He's supposed to be so much scruffier and geeky. You rarely, rarely, rarely see that much of his face in the manga. AND WHEN DID HE GET SOCIAL SKILLS. AND WHEN DID CHICKS GET CRUSHES ON HIM.
Other than that, no problems. I'm more or less satisfied and highly recommend the show so far.
SHINOYAMA! COME BACK TO THE DORK SIDEEEEE
Anyway. One comic I've been following for over a year is RAY, by Akihito Yoshitomi, licensed and translated by ADV. Mrr. But anyway, it's a good series. Nice levels all around of what the hell, what the shit, and what the FUCK, as well as x-ray vision, kickboxing nurses, the best Not-A-Pirate dude ever, and an unabashed admission that the whole thing is really just a fanfic spinoff of Osamu Tezuka's Black Jack.
So this week, we discovered that there's a TV adaptation out, RAY The Animation, and it's being digitally fansubbed by Froth-Bite, whom we ♥. (We also ♥ Seichi, Soldats, and Lunar. They do good work.) After downloading two episodes by BitTorrent last night and watching them this morning, I give it one and a half thumbs up as far as adaptations go. Why not two thumbs? Well. It's cheesy in the right places, serious in the right places, Misato, Ray, and Dr. Sawa are dead on, but.....
...when the HELL did Shinoyama get a haircut so you could see his EYES?! He's supposed to be so much scruffier and geeky. You rarely, rarely, rarely see that much of his face in the manga. AND WHEN DID HE GET SOCIAL SKILLS. AND WHEN DID CHICKS GET CRUSHES ON HIM.
Other than that, no problems. I'm more or less satisfied and highly recommend the show so far.
SHINOYAMA! COME BACK TO THE DORK SIDEEEEE
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Second Amulet Down
The, uh, Morningstar Amulet on this page is a bit ODD to me, from all the mixing of runes and traditions and such. Then again, you know, global communication works wonders.
It's still pretty funny-looking, though. Is that what makes it good luck? Bad mojo starts to approach, sees the amulet, and ends up laughing so hard that they decide to let you have a break for once? Seriously, no joke: a little doofy thing could work solely by virtue of being little and doofy. Maybe not on bad mojo, but on someone who's been having a horrible day. (Then again, sometimes they're the same thing.)
In conclusion, this icon make me look like I have six eyes! WOO!
It's still pretty funny-looking, though. Is that what makes it good luck? Bad mojo starts to approach, sees the amulet, and ends up laughing so hard that they decide to let you have a break for once? Seriously, no joke: a little doofy thing could work solely by virtue of being little and doofy. Maybe not on bad mojo, but on someone who's been having a horrible day. (Then again, sometimes they're the same thing.)
In conclusion, this icon make me look like I have six eyes! WOO!
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Lost in Translation, courtesy of linguaphiles
Behold, what the internet has sought from the very beginning: a program that will stuff something through Babelfish five times and print out the results.
( First Test! )
And when you take that and include Chinese, Japanese, and Korean...
( My given name broke the machine! )
Again!
( It makes everything worse! )
So, in short, don't use Babelfish, you naughty little creatures! It consolidated with the situation of the screw is understood!
( First Test! )
And when you take that and include Chinese, Japanese, and Korean...
( My given name broke the machine! )
Again!
( It makes everything worse! )
So, in short, don't use Babelfish, you naughty little creatures! It consolidated with the situation of the screw is understood!
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Why am I making icons?
For some reason, after browsing around looking for new icons thanks to official generosity, I ended up downloading brushes and textures and things from colorfilter and crumblingwalls and trying my hand at it myself. It's not as hard as I thought.
Does anyone remember "catprin"? It was this website a while back, brought up on Mandom Stank for mockery, in which strange Japanese people would dress up their cats and then take pictures of them in the outfits. Like a cross between cosplay and Oolong.
Anyway, there were some cute pictures sitting around on the computer from that, so here's four catprin icons.
( These cats are not pleased! )
Then, three icons of some Vietnamese women from this site, which I adore.
( Two pretty young women, one beautiful old one )
Out of the three, I think the one of bà lão there is the prettiest. But then again, that smile probably would've made it the best icon anyway.
colorfilter and crumblingwalls and trying my hand at it myself. It's not as hard as I thought.Does anyone remember "catprin"? It was this website a while back, brought up on Mandom Stank for mockery, in which strange Japanese people would dress up their cats and then take pictures of them in the outfits. Like a cross between cosplay and Oolong.
Anyway, there were some cute pictures sitting around on the computer from that, so here's four catprin icons.
( These cats are not pleased! )
Then, three icons of some Vietnamese women from this site, which I adore.
( Two pretty young women, one beautiful old one )
Out of the three, I think the one of bà lão there is the prettiest. But then again, that smile probably would've made it the best icon anyway.
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...that's odd.
I am... three, maybe four degrees of separation from saunteringdown, artist of Friendly Hostility, which apparently started off as a story about the Maharassa family (...a webcomic with a well-written primarily nonwhite cast? IS THIS LEGAL AND CAN I MARRY IT?), and then got sucked into the usual Huge Lovecraftian Demons of Doom Arc thing that lots of webcomics get into (see Sluggy Freelance, and to some extent, Megatokyo), incorporating characters from the old Boy Meets Boy comic (maybe it was the previous project?), and eventually featuring Nyarlathotep in the comic on a semi-regular basis and in the default icon of saunteringdown. The hypnotizing one that I'm staring at and makes Mack make cracks about Sadu-Hem.
Unfortunately, the degrees of separation are like this:
Me -> Darling Crow Girl -> Metaphorical Phoenix Girl -> Late Stranger ->saunteringdown.
So.
There is also the fact that Late Stranger seems to have been a fascinating person, the kind I would have liked to have gotten to know, or at least, read every now and then.
I've also been digging through old email, as far back as June of 2000, and... um. Wow,ippeas. Some of this is disgusting. And you say the chats were worse?
saunteringdown, artist of Friendly Hostility, which apparently started off as a story about the Maharassa family (...a webcomic with a well-written primarily nonwhite cast? IS THIS LEGAL AND CAN I MARRY IT?), and then got sucked into the usual Huge Lovecraftian Demons of Doom Arc thing that lots of webcomics get into (see Sluggy Freelance, and to some extent, Megatokyo), incorporating characters from the old Boy Meets Boy comic (maybe it was the previous project?), and eventually featuring Nyarlathotep in the comic on a semi-regular basis and in the default icon of saunteringdown. The hypnotizing one that I'm staring at and makes Mack make cracks about Sadu-Hem.Unfortunately, the degrees of separation are like this:
Me -> Darling Crow Girl -> Metaphorical Phoenix Girl -> Late Stranger ->
saunteringdown.So.
There is also the fact that Late Stranger seems to have been a fascinating person, the kind I would have liked to have gotten to know, or at least, read every now and then.
I've also been digging through old email, as far back as June of 2000, and... um. Wow,
ippeas. Some of this is disgusting. And you say the chats were worse?
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Timing is Everything.
So now, after a year of staying away from a particular journal because I didn't want to feed the worries of a certain bird, I gave in and checked up on what's been happening after all.
A couple of weeks after we dropped contact, one of her friends died. We weren't there to lend support. Especially her, as for the rest of us the connection is more by association and hearsay than by heartstrings. So her worries are more than overfed, and the best I can do is provide a shoulder to cry on and arms to be held in.
But no words of wisdom. Words have to come from thoughts, and all the thoughts I have right now are just confused and guilty.
This person's friendship with all of us ended becausethebkcam went overboard in a stupid, stupid, stupid argument. One that would have boiled over if she hadn't taken the horrid advice of a girl that didn't really give a whit about what was best or right, advice that was the exact opposite of what it turned out was her actual belief about us. How you do fix that? How do you explain that someone else was being a stupid idiot and that you yourself didn't agree or approve without, yet again, getting branded with the label of "dodging responsibility"? "Oh, it wasn't me, it was someone else"? Isn't that exactly what causes people to believe this is fake? Everyone has to take the consequences that come from someone else's foolish act. To do otherwise is immature and unrealistic.
Yet it means either a certain homogenity in our friendships, as happens with carefully choosing people who can tolerate all of us and be tolerated by everyone in return, or else a lonely separateness, of having to compartmentalize friends into groups of "this person's friends", "that person's friends", and then never interacting within another's token group. There's no middle ground. There's no room for a few being friends with someone that one other person pointedly can't get along with... or even a person whom everyone got along with and only ended up having major fights with one particular person.
Either way, overworshipping "collective responsibility" was the wrong thing to do. I don't care if anything else had gone the same way, I don't care if we probably would have been in a hospital at the time, I would rather go back and apologize for it the very day after, lose several notches of respect in the short term, than not be around when a friend needs real support. And I know she is the same way, as she very nearly did.
Responsibilility can't really be forced through protocol. As it is, I don't feel responsible for the fallout, but for the months of isolation afterwords that did not need to and should not have happened. The end.
A couple of weeks after we dropped contact, one of her friends died. We weren't there to lend support. Especially her, as for the rest of us the connection is more by association and hearsay than by heartstrings. So her worries are more than overfed, and the best I can do is provide a shoulder to cry on and arms to be held in.
But no words of wisdom. Words have to come from thoughts, and all the thoughts I have right now are just confused and guilty.
This person's friendship with all of us ended because
thebkcam went overboard in a stupid, stupid, stupid argument. One that would have boiled over if she hadn't taken the horrid advice of a girl that didn't really give a whit about what was best or right, advice that was the exact opposite of what it turned out was her actual belief about us. How you do fix that? How do you explain that someone else was being a stupid idiot and that you yourself didn't agree or approve without, yet again, getting branded with the label of "dodging responsibility"? "Oh, it wasn't me, it was someone else"? Isn't that exactly what causes people to believe this is fake? Everyone has to take the consequences that come from someone else's foolish act. To do otherwise is immature and unrealistic.Yet it means either a certain homogenity in our friendships, as happens with carefully choosing people who can tolerate all of us and be tolerated by everyone in return, or else a lonely separateness, of having to compartmentalize friends into groups of "this person's friends", "that person's friends", and then never interacting within another's token group. There's no middle ground. There's no room for a few being friends with someone that one other person pointedly can't get along with... or even a person whom everyone got along with and only ended up having major fights with one particular person.
Either way, overworshipping "collective responsibility" was the wrong thing to do. I don't care if anything else had gone the same way, I don't care if we probably would have been in a hospital at the time, I would rather go back and apologize for it the very day after, lose several notches of respect in the short term, than not be around when a friend needs real support. And I know she is the same way, as she very nearly did.
Responsibilility can't really be forced through protocol. As it is, I don't feel responsible for the fallout, but for the months of isolation afterwords that did not need to and should not have happened. The end.
Worry, as always.
There used to be a time, not so long ago, that I was a widely respected and powerful man. Not here, obviously. Not Thái Nguyên, either. In TN, I was always up to no good, even if I didn't know it, because what else would you expect from the son of Liên Tuyết? "Thắng lưu manh đang lá con đĩ." And here, I'm either flattered half to death for being so very "wise" and always knowing what's best, cursed for being horrible personified evil with large serrated death, or teased for being a silly pervert.
If it sounds like I'm standing on a soapbox and about to bitch at the world with a megaphone, I'm sorry, but I'm not really up to that right now, or possibly ever. I'm just thinking about pigeonholes of all kinds, whether they be the reputations you can't live up to or the reputations you can't live down. There are only two people in this world that I'm absolutely certain know what I'm like at both my best times and worst times, and can still accept both and everything in between.
There is a particular person whom I'd like to be more frank and serious with. But that, right there, is the wrong way to phrase it-- there's already been some confusion about how I feel about her, or her about me, and I want to be serious in a non-romantic non-sexual direction. I want to actually talk about my life, my fears, what's going on, in a serious fashion without having to feint one way or the other to avoid the topic. I don't care if it's face-to-face or if she prefers to keep it in email so that it doesn't mess up the fun of hanging out... heck, I've known for years that even the most open-minded folks have an easier time dealing with me if they're talking to an icon rather than this face.
It's not just for me that I want to talk seriously for once. It's that I've got this hunch, this gut feeling, that she's dealing with a lot of the same fears and issues that have been plaguing me for years. That mode of thinking that you slip into after years of living here under a constant barrage that claims to be a reality check, to "save" you from daring to think that God doesn't make mistakes, that what you think you have to hide shouldn't have to be hidden, that you don't have to force yourself to pretend that what everyone tells you about yourself is the way you must be.
I knew what I was getting into when I retreated from respect and power to become a nobody that few even believe exists. I did it to save a soul. I've taken the best this world can toss at me, the most viciousness that the population has had to offer, and it's ripped away little parts of me over time, such as that I don't know if I could ever return to my old way of life. But I accomplished what I set out to do in the first place, so I have few regrets. She smiles, she laughs, she makes little crow noises at dogs. There is life in her eyes again, and that's worth more than any respect or power you could summon to bribe me with.
At the same time, do I stop there? Save one bird and ignore the rest?
I want to at least tell her that it's okay, and that I'll always be there for her if she needs someone to talk to.
And then immediately fix "In an obnoxious protective older brother sort of way," onto the end. Because everyone thinks I'm trying to woo them all the time. Lucky me.
If it sounds like I'm standing on a soapbox and about to bitch at the world with a megaphone, I'm sorry, but I'm not really up to that right now, or possibly ever. I'm just thinking about pigeonholes of all kinds, whether they be the reputations you can't live up to or the reputations you can't live down. There are only two people in this world that I'm absolutely certain know what I'm like at both my best times and worst times, and can still accept both and everything in between.
There is a particular person whom I'd like to be more frank and serious with. But that, right there, is the wrong way to phrase it-- there's already been some confusion about how I feel about her, or her about me, and I want to be serious in a non-romantic non-sexual direction. I want to actually talk about my life, my fears, what's going on, in a serious fashion without having to feint one way or the other to avoid the topic. I don't care if it's face-to-face or if she prefers to keep it in email so that it doesn't mess up the fun of hanging out... heck, I've known for years that even the most open-minded folks have an easier time dealing with me if they're talking to an icon rather than this face.
It's not just for me that I want to talk seriously for once. It's that I've got this hunch, this gut feeling, that she's dealing with a lot of the same fears and issues that have been plaguing me for years. That mode of thinking that you slip into after years of living here under a constant barrage that claims to be a reality check, to "save" you from daring to think that God doesn't make mistakes, that what you think you have to hide shouldn't have to be hidden, that you don't have to force yourself to pretend that what everyone tells you about yourself is the way you must be.
I knew what I was getting into when I retreated from respect and power to become a nobody that few even believe exists. I did it to save a soul. I've taken the best this world can toss at me, the most viciousness that the population has had to offer, and it's ripped away little parts of me over time, such as that I don't know if I could ever return to my old way of life. But I accomplished what I set out to do in the first place, so I have few regrets. She smiles, she laughs, she makes little crow noises at dogs. There is life in her eyes again, and that's worth more than any respect or power you could summon to bribe me with.
At the same time, do I stop there? Save one bird and ignore the rest?
I want to at least tell her that it's okay, and that I'll always be there for her if she needs someone to talk to.
And then immediately fix "In an obnoxious protective older brother sort of way," onto the end. Because everyone thinks I'm trying to woo them all the time. Lucky me.
I ought to do this to her in Vietnamese.
I kid you not, snugglywuzzums has been gliding around all day, singing this song to the tune of "Silver Bells":
鶏、鶏が好きですよね
あなたを話してかな
岩神、岩神が嫌いですよね
分ないってマイハニーように
This translates roughly to
Chicken, you know I like the chicken
I wonder if you are spoken to
Rock god, you know I hate the rock god
As my honey says "I don't get it"
In other words, it's a nonsense song that's also one big joke on me. So, I get my revenge by calling her snugglywuzzums and moochiepoo online to potential millions of strangers! HAHAHA!
Yes, I am lame. But I control the Lame! The Lame does not control me!
EDIBONG: And my grammar was off in a few places. Ar, Japanese. Sometimes I swear they made this language up just to laugh at people who get it wrong.
鶏、鶏が好きですよね
あなたを話してかな
岩神、岩神が嫌いですよね
分ないってマイハニーように
This translates roughly to
Chicken, you know I like the chicken
I wonder if you are spoken to
Rock god, you know I hate the rock god
As my honey says "I don't get it"
In other words, it's a nonsense song that's also one big joke on me. So, I get my revenge by calling her snugglywuzzums and moochiepoo online to potential millions of strangers! HAHAHA!
Yes, I am lame. But I control the Lame! The Lame does not control me!
EDIBONG: And my grammar was off in a few places. Ar, Japanese. Sometimes I swear they made this language up just to laugh at people who get it wrong.
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And this is for Sweetiesmoochiepoo
...who used to have a journal at karinofujo but doesn't anymore. This is based off of her diary some notebooks she left lying around. Heheheh.
( Moochiepoo handwriting! )
Oh, and the little stinger on the a, c, and d letters? Are always there, on every instance of the letters, and even a few others. Which makes my occasional stinger look so wimpy. I'm like, "Lalala I like a little verbal foreplay," and she's apparently all, "RRRAWR YOU STRONG CHALLENGING MAN YOU!"
...okay, just for that, I die. Croak.
But seriously, do these things ever say, "So-and-so is an unpleasant, cranky old geezer with arthritis"? Inquiring minds want to know.
karinofujo but doesn't anymore. This is based off of ( Moochiepoo handwriting! )
Oh, and the little stinger on the a, c, and d letters? Are always there, on every instance of the letters, and even a few others. Which makes my occasional stinger look so wimpy. I'm like, "Lalala I like a little verbal foreplay," and she's apparently all, "RRRAWR YOU STRONG CHALLENGING MAN YOU!"
...okay, just for that, I die. Croak.
But seriously, do these things ever say, "So-and-so is an unpleasant, cranky old geezer with arthritis"? Inquiring minds want to know.