Right now I'm watching a documentary (more like a filmed lecture) called Killing Us Softly 3 which is about the depiction of women in advertising and how it affects all women and all men. Very interesting and super-informative.
I think the solution would be to love ourselves, no matter what age, skin color or body shape we are, and to be more critical of what we see or hear.
It's the Starship Size Comparison Chart! All the space ships, star ships, what have you, scaled for size comparison. I doubt it gets any geekier than this.
More comparison charts over at Star Trek Miniutae.
I thought I was, well, in so many words, getting really dumb. I came in here and I couldn't find a thing, and Vox seemed all borked and everything.
I'm not too happy about the last release. Where are the comments section on the front page? Where's TIG? Vox can't be Vox without TIG!
Just saying.
Okay, now I have to go back to work.
I was going through today's papers when I came upon this:
Um, yeah. Whygodwhy?
First snow of the season today. Looks like I'm going to need my boots tomorrow because it's not stopping. It makes everything look like Christmas, though, and when the wind blows I feel like I'm living in a snow globe.
And because of that, here's a couple of different versions of Let It Snow. Have fun!
It's been ages since I finished a book in under two days, so finis hing Jonathan Carroll's The Marriage of Sticks was a treat. And as usual, after finishing a good book, I gave myself an extended stretch, like I would do in the mornings when I wake up from a good night's sleep.
I don't even know how to describe the story, other than it starts out like there's nothing extraordinary going on, and somewhere in the middle things start going weird until you get to the end where everything's totally bizarre. That's what I love about Jonathan Carroll, you never really know where you're going to end up, and you always end up somewhere fantastic but oddly familiar. (Props to my friend Ces who initiated me into the cult, and huge apologies for my having lost her copy of Sleeping in Flame during the move.)
Finding this poem in the book was sweet, too.
If I get to love you, please leave without knocking,
but think it over well:
my straw mattress will be yours, the dusty straw,
the rustling sighs.Into the pitcher fresh water I'll pour,
your shoes, before you leave, I'll wipe clean,
no one will disturb us here,
hunched over, you could mend our clothes in peace.If the silence is great, I will talk to you,
If you are tired, take my only chair,
If it's warm here, loosen your collar, take off your tie,
if you are hungry, there's a clean sheet of paper
as your plate if there's food,
but leave some for me—I, too, am forever hungry.If I get to love you, enter without knocking,
but think it over well:
it would hurt if you stayed away for too long.
All in all, a very satisfying read and totally recommended.
