atomic_fungus (atomic_fungus) wrote,
atomic_fungus
atomic_fungus

#3344: Let me reduce that whole "Julia" thing for you.

Because it really is pretty simple to pare it down to its simplest elements to explain why it's a trainload of horseshit:



That's what the Obama administration wants people to take away from their most recent entry into their parade of inept propaganda.

(It took me almost five minutes to find the right fonts, damn it. I hope you're happy.)

* * *

Last night I watched the playlist again.

I've been downloading Mizuiro Jidai for quite some time, and haven't watched any. This is a series I began collecting as fansubs more than a decade ago.

Before last night, I'd seen through ep 12. I finally popped it onto the playlist, though, and have through ep 28 on the machine waiting to be viewed.

...watched anime twice in April; well, I'm thinking about watching more anime today, so perhaps I'll do better in May.

World Only God Knows II, like Ben-To, is down to its last episode. Mizuiro Jidai will take the place of one of them, but I've got to find something else to take the place of the other.

Also, I still have Borrower Arietty sitting here on my desk, patiently waiting to be watched. Perhaps I'll do that as a double feature with Howl's Moving Castle since I still haven't watched that, either.

* * *

Last night's weather--of course the wind changed direction and the temps started dropping sometime around noon yesterday. By late afternoon it had dropped twenty degrees to about 52-ish. A little while before dark I looked outside and saw that it was getting hazy.

I woke up around 4-ish and went outside; it was foggy enough that the acoustics were affected. The train that happened to be going through sounded strange, as if someone had turned down the volume on it. Not "far away", but "quieter". Weird.

Anyway, I was groggy, so it took me a few minutes before I realized that I had spent at least a few minutes standing in the driveway, staring up at the sky, trying to figure out if that was a star I was seeing through the fog, or what...and that I probably looked--at best--as if I'd been smoking something illegal.

So I went out in the back yard and could hear, far away, the springtime frogs happily peeping away somewhere.

* * *

(Yes I was fully clothed. Shut up. Besides, it was cold outside.)

* * *

During the big thunderstorm that hit early Friday morning I happened to be standing at the back door when a very, very bright bolt of lightning arced through the sky. It was so bright I was blinded by it; and when I had blinked the spots from my eyes I realized that it had been bright enough--and had lasted long enough--to trip the photosensor on the neighbors' security light, shutting it off.

Back in the 1980s, there was a burglary ring operating in town here. A couple of local high schoolers turned out to be the culprits--one was a guy who'd been my friend in 4th grade--and my neighbor's house was one that got hit. They got in from the back, at night when he wasn't home.

So my neighbor's response was to put up a huge mecury vapor floodlight, illuminating his back yard like a football stadium. I don't blame him, of course, but ever since then it's been almost impossible to do any real stargazing from the patio because that security lamp is blasting half a kilowatt of energy all over the place.

The honeysuckle bushes on the south border of the patio help a bit, though.

...our original neighbor moved out after his wife died. The house was bought by the town's fire chief; I'd hoped he would shut the thing off but that floodlight still goes on every night.

* * *

Had an interesting dream--well, interesting to me, anyway.

It was Christmastime. I, in my present form, was visiting my family in 1980. I have no idea how I'd managed this nor was there really any explanation given why I was able to sit there in the living room with my 13-year-old self.

...but I was talking to my younger self, showing him my Kindle, and talking a bit about how awesome the technology was going to be when he got to my age.

(Actually it wasn't my Kindle, exactly. It was a Kindle-like device, but had more buttons on it; also it had a color display. But it wasn't a Kindle Fire, either.)

Thinking about it now, though, I've realized that my brain actually got the setting right. The fireplace was installed in the north wall in 1992; in 1980 that was just a blank wall--so in my dream the sofa was there.

But minus several points for it being the sofa we got in 1982; still, when you're talking about a time-travel story where you're showing your 13-year-old self some kind of advanced tablet computer I guess one anachronism more or less doesn't really make much difference.

Besides, then my niece showed up in the dream (my brother's daughter) and was making trouble. Oh well.

Some of this must have come from the idea I had a few nights ago. I was thinking it might be interesting to write a story set in 2012, but told from the viewpoint of a time traveler from 1970.

Someone--for humor's sake--once wrote a vignette like that, showing how our everyday lives would be portrayed in a science fiction story. My story would be similar to that, except that it'd have a plot rather than just being primarily an illustration. The main character would probably be an engineer-type, someone who understands technology to a fairly high degree--because it would be fun for him to be caught absolutely flat-footed by how much things changed in 42 years.

...figure the guy's got to build himself a temporal beacon or something in order to get back to 1970. It won't be hard for him to get the parts since we still manufacture transistors, but his foray into the modern technological world will be fun to write.

Example: he goes to Radio Shack to buy parts and discovers they don't sell nearly the amount of electronic components they once did. This could be the first thing that happens, in fact, because it clues him in that things are way different from how they were and he needs to adjust, fast.

Well, once I'm finished editing "RELEASE CANDIDATE #1" maybe I can work on that.
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