conuly: (Default)
[personal profile] conuly
Apparently, people are looking up: Suborn, nutjob, collusion, counsel, and witch-hunt.


Now, class, I want you to write out the entire list three times, and then use each word in a sentence.

Jet Boy, Jet Girl

May. 23rd, 2017 01:30 pm
ceciliatan: (darons guitar)
[personal profile] ceciliatan

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

(Sorry for the delayed post! Web server and I both crashed overnight so it took a while to get it rebooted and the post re-loaded! -ctan)
Remember how someone told me that Nomad traveled much lighter than your average big rock band? You might recall that when we flew to Japan the instruments and equipment went ahead by a week or something. One crew handled getting the stuff from gig to gig and from country to country, and the band itself traveled like regular people, by train, by plane. We didn’t have a large crew or complicated stage setup, and we relied on local backline and crew at each show.

That wouldn’t be the case with the Tempestad tour.

Read the rest of this entry » )

Yuri!!! On Ice Moodtheme!

May. 23rd, 2017 02:09 pm
annabeth_roses: (YOI - VIKTORy arms)
[personal profile] annabeth_roses posting in [community profile] yurionicefans
First off, this took me like 10 hours to create. PLEASE CREDIT ME. PLEASE. :D (credit to annabeth_roses)

Secondly, I bring you a moodtheme for your journal! I'm not sure, but I think this only works for paid users.

All 132 moods are different!

You can view the entire mood theme HERE.

Download the zip file HERE.

And instructions how to install are HERE.

I recommend you use the Admin Console option, but it's up to you!

Here are some examples:

Drunk | Enthralled | Happy | Horny | Angry

I included a whole shitload of characters. Mostly Yuuri, Viktor, and Yurio, but just about everybody else made an appearance, except for maybe like, two people? I tried!

I hope you enjoy it, and comments if you snag would be lovely! (That was so much work, haha.)

(Mods: I think I need a couple new tags for this.)

Oh one more thing: comment if you have any trouble. I might be able to help. :)
anandrine: (leverage. parker: flower girl)
[personal profile] anandrine posting in [community profile] storycrafters
(note this question is about how you write, not about how the story is told.)

do you start at the beginning and go straight through to the end, or do you hop around from scene to scene as you write?

jae: (theamericansgecko)
[personal profile] jae posting in [community profile] theamericans
23 May 2017 in the U.S. and Canada

This is a discussion post for episode 512 of The Americans, intended for viewers who are watching the show on the U.S./Canadian schedule. (Feel free to dive in to the discussion even if you're coming in late--and you should also feel free to start a new thread if it seems too daunting to read through what's already been posted first. If you're reading this at a point where you've already seen subsequent episodes, though, please take care to keep comments spoiler-free of anything that comes after season five, episode twelve.)

FX's original promo trailer )
annathepiper: (Little Help?)
[personal profile] annathepiper

Any of you who have followed me on a regular basis know that my household are longstanding fans of Folklife, the big four-day music festival that happens every year at the Seattle Center over Memorial Day weekend. This year’s is imminent, and as always, Dara, Paul, and I are looking forward to spending time there.

But I noted with dismay this morning that the Seattle Times has an article up saying that unless they get more donations at the gate this year, next year’s festival is in danger of being canceled. 🙁

According to that article, Folklife usually only gets donations from about 17 percent of attendees at the gate, and they take in around $190,000. They really need to bump that number up to $350,000 in order to afford next year.

So if you’re in the area, you love Folklife and what it brings to our local culture, and you’re planning to go this weekend, please please please donate anything you can spare at the gate. They need your help. Also, if you’re not going to be able to hit the festival but you still want to help out, you can donate to them directly on their website.

Please spread the word to other area locals! And if you’re going to be at the festival, hey, look for Dara and Paul and me, and say hi if you see us!

Mirrored from

Green River, Running Red, by Ann Rule

May. 23rd, 2017 10:14 am
runpunkrun: dana scully reading jose chung's From Outer Space, text: read (reading)
[personal profile] runpunkrun
Green River, Running Red: The Real Story of the Green River Killer—America's Deadliest Serial Murderer, Ann Rule: When I was a kid, I remember hearing about the Green River Killer. No details, just the name, but it was spooky enough that it stuck with me. And since my library doesn't have The Stranger Beside Me in ebook—I won't read it in paperback because I worked in a library; I know what those ratty true crime paperbacks look like and I'm not touching them—I chose this book as part of my exploration of the question: Do I really enjoy true crime or do I just love Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark's My Favorite Murder?

All I know for sure is that I love Karen and Georgia, and this book is long-winded, poorly organized, and filled with mind-numbing data. It'd be nerve wracking to read if you knew there was going to be a quiz later. Rule gives you dates, directions with cross streets, the full names of everyone you encounter, as well as their height, weight, age, occupation, birthday, and the names of their parents, siblings, and children. Surprisingly, none of that makes any of these people memorable. But without the threat of a test hanging over me, this was easy to read since I knew I would never need to remember a word of it, and I didn't, not even while I was reading.

The most satisfying part was when she mentioned an unrelated murder that happened near me when I was ten, and now I have context for a vague memory of a murder in a Denny's parking lot. Yes, you even get unrelated murders in this! Because the Pacific Northwest was fucking crawling with serial killers in the seventies and eighties, and Gary Ridgway was running around loose for twenty years while the cops searched for the Green River Killer. Every time someone was murdered, you had to wonder if it was him. They finally arrested him in 2001. I mean jesus. His first victims were found in 1982.

Anyway, this book isn't very good. It has chapters from Ridgway's perspective that are super gross and sourced from where, exactly, Ann? Also it has absolutely no bibliography. Just about three pages of people who assisted Rule in writing the book.

And it needs all the trigger warnings. Literally all of them.
solarbird: (tracer)
[personal profile] solarbird

"Heya, Winston!"

"Lena! It's been weeks - it's so good to see you," he replied, with a three second delay. "Are you okay? At least you're on the ground this time - where are you?"

"Brighton! Can't you hear - oh, I've got background noise filtering turned on, let me fix that." And the sound of the ocean appeared around her in Winston's feed. "It's cold, but I'm on the beach. Look!" She aimed the camera to the sea.

"It's March and it's not even raining! How about that," came Winston's voice, clearly, over the small speaker. "Is Amélie there? Or any of her friends? "

"Nope!" she chirped, turning the transmitter back around and walking with it. "It's just me, all by myself, kicking around old haunts."

"You're... out, then?"

"Yep. Entirely on me own, footloose and fancy free, walking the earth - or at least this beach - with no way to be found. Nobody even knows who or where I am - except you, I s'pose."

She didn't mention the retrieval beacon in her bag.

"I'm staying a couple of nights in a hostel, a few blocks in. It's cheap! And nice. But mostly, cheap."

"Off-season like this, I'd hope so." The scientist discreetly zoomed his viewscreen and scrolled around, looking for anything out of place in the background. Nothing obvious. "So... Talon just let you leave."

"Sure did. Helped me arrange my story and flew me out."

He leaned forward, and said, conspiratorially and low, "You haven't assassinated anyone yet, have you?"

Tracer laughed. "Only because I can't catch a shuttle to the moon, y'big ape. Which way do you want to go - pummellings or too much peanut butter?"

"Oh, peanut butter, definitely." He put on his best, big, toothy grin, which he let drop to a more genuine smile as a small popup window confirmed, Signal origin: south coast of England (probability 93%), Brighton Beach (probability 77%). "They really just... let you go."

"Yep. I said I needed to go find my old life, and Amélie made it happen." She bit her lower lip. "It's like she even agreed."

"Are you... alive again? Legally, I mean? Do you have money? Did they re-activate your commission?" Location probabilities climbed as more signal data arrived, and Winston dismissed the window. Good enough, he thought.

The smile Lena had been keeping propped up fell. "I'm... still working on that. After they cleared me at the consulate and helped me hitch onto a cargo flight home, I thought it would be easy. I kind of thought I'd be snapped up at Heathrow for debriefing, really. But... I wasn't. I just can't seem to get anybody's attention."

The pilot sat down on the top of a breakwater, propped up the transmitter, picked up a rock, and threw the latter towards the waves. "It's like I'm some kind of ghost."

"That's very strange," he granted. "Overwatch has been out of the news for a couple of years now, but - take it from me - the governments are still keeping tabs on everyone."

"Yeh. But it's fine, honestly!" It wasn't fine, but she managed to mean it through sheer sunny determination nonetheless. She turned back to the camera. "I've got enough money to live on for weeks - a few months, if I'm careful. So I thought, well, I just need to get out of London, right? Take a few days by the ocean, get some of that sea air. Get my head cleared up."

Partial retina image capture, said another, discreet popup. Image quality acceptable. Match probability 96%, margin of error +/-35%. "That accelerator they built you - how's it holding up?" He pursed his lips and shook his head. "I wish they'd used mine," he grumbled.

"Oh, it's absolutely wizard! Once I got the swing of it? Natural as breathing. I'll show you some time, I promise!"

Far away under the surface of the moon, in the research station now again his home, Winston the scientist studied Tracer's face for any hint, any sign, of the kind of programming he believed had been implanted into Amélie Lacroix. Face and voice analytics ran over and through every frame of vision and every millisecond of audio, searching for some hint, some breath of change, and found nothing.

Of course, they'd found nothing with Amélie either. But they'd had less reason to look.

I need someone actually there, he decided. "Lena, would you let me tell Angela you're back, and safe? I'd feel better if she checked you over herself. In person."

The pilot nodded enthusiastically, throwing another stone into the sea. "Let's! I'll be back to it on Monday, trying to get someone to listen to me. It'd be great to have someone from the old crew around to chat." She picked up a little stick of driftwood, and poked at more beach rocks, turning them over, seeing what was underneath. Generally, that meant more rocks. "To be honest, it's been kind of lonely. Funny, innit? Me? Lonely?"

"Haven't you looked up any old friends?"

"Oh, I've looked 'em up all right. It's a military life, though - most everybody I can find's been all moved 'round. Katarina's back in Norway, my graduating class have completely dispersed - a lot of 'em are in Greece, but I don't have the money to fly anywhere. The only one I found still in London was Imogen."

"That's too bad. I'd transfer you some money, if I could. But at least you found her."

"Yeah..." she said, sadly.

"uh oh."

Adequate data received to begin deep analysis, said the popup. Winston deactivated additional notifications.

"It was..." She looked for other words to describe it, and came up with nothing better than, " was weird, big guy. We were great friends in flight school, and we kept in touch when I jumped to Overwatch. And now, I'm... I'm literally back from the dead, least as far as she's concerned, and she won't even talk to me."

"That's awful!"

"She recognised me, I'm sure of it. She said she didn't, but I know she did. She said she didn't even remember knowing anyone who joined up with Overwatch." Tracer looked off to the side, not liking where her thoughts went. "She looked scared, Winston. Of me."

I can understand why, he thought to himself. The woman whose death brought down Overwatch is back from the grave, hasn't aged a day, and nobody is talking about it - who knows what you are? But out loud, he said, "I'm sorry," and meant it.

"It's been five years, the world's a different place - it feels like wheels are flying off everywhere, it really does - but now look out everyone, Tracer's coming to town! I thought..." her voice trailed off.

"Those missing five years didn't sink in, did they?"

They really hadn't, she knew. Not until then. "I really miss you, big guy," she said, sad and quiet.

"I've missed you too, Lena," he answered, softly. "I can't get off this rock, but you can always - any time of the day - radio me, and I'll listen." He reached over and touched a few points on a console. "I'm sending you my 'wakeup' prefix code. It will get me up, if I'm here, and I will answer."

Her padd chirped. "Got it."

"And don't wait 'till you're back in Brighton. Any time. Day or night."

"I will, I will! But maybe not tomorrow." She shook her head, brushing off the sadness. "There's a bar just a bit down the way, and it's also just hit me that I haven't picked anyone up in a bar in over five years, and that can't be helping. I think I'm gonna fix that tonight."

Winston howled with laughter, big honking bellows. "Now that sounds like the old Tracer," he said, merrily. "But... how're you going to explain the accelerator?"

"What, you think I've got some bulky ring in my chest, like yours? These are posh, mate!" She grinned. "I figured it out on the flight north. I just call 'em bioluminescent tattoos, and all the girls will want their own."

"Heh," he chuffed. "I believe the traditional Air Force benediction is, 'Good hunting?'"

"Rwrar." She winked.

"Go get 'em, pilot. But promise you'll radio me from London on Monday."

"I will, Winston. I promise."

Winston waited 'till Lena shut down her transmitter, and then threw the whole conversation - sound, vision, raw signal, transmission detail data, everything - into deep computational processing, to send along to Dr. Ziegler. If they've done anything to you, he thought, I will find it. And one way or another, somehow - they will pay.


May. 23rd, 2017 11:52 am
paynesgrey: by paynesgrey (coffee)
[personal profile] paynesgrey posting in [community profile] addme
NAME: Heather
AGE: 36
INTERESTS & HOBBIES: Writing (original and fanfiction), Reading (romance, drama, horror, biography), Paganism, Tarot Reading, Drawing and Painting, Graphic and Web Design, Baking, Dogs, Motherhood, TV and Movies, Freelancing, Tea, Coffee, Wine.
LOOKING FOR: active people, similar interests, online friendships
ANYTHING ELSE?:I just had a baby, so I talk about her growing up. I just talk about a lot of RL and fandom things, like Doctor Who, Star Wars, Star Trek, DC and Marvel, Game of Thrones, older fandoms like Inuyasha and Heroes. Some times I also talk about civil and social rights issues, but not that much.
ALSO KNOWN AS: [ profile] paynesgrey. on Livejournal. I've been at Livejournal since 2003, and I'm still over there somewhat but mostly trying to shift to Dreamwidth. I'm on Tumblr, though I don't use it much. Wordpress I'm known as, and on Twitter: heatherkrowe.

RNGesus saves

May. 23rd, 2017 07:44 pm
catness: (maze)
[personal profile] catness
The Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart (a pseudonym of George Cockcroft).

Luke Rhinehart has every reason to be satisfied with his life: a successful career (he's a psychiatrist), reliable friends and colleagues, a loving wife and two beautiful children. And yet, he's unhappy, and desperately bored. The daily routine feels mind-numbing, and even his job is disappointing, as he doesn't believe anymore in the effectiveness of his treatment methods. Everything changes when he accidentally stumbles upon a novel idea: using dice to make decisions - including dangerous, crazy choices that he normally would never dream of making. (The caveat is that whatever option the dice choose, it must be followed - no excuses.) That brings the thrill back, and permanently destroys his old life.

Luke is not a particularly likable person (heck, his very first dice decision was to rape his best friend's wife), but I absolutely can relate to his issues. (I had even played around with a dice-like approach myself, although it was not as radical as Luke's: I wouldn't want to always include at least one potentially disastrous option.) So I was extremely curious to see how it works out for him and his patients, as he started to develop a highly controversial procedure to treat mental illnesses with the dice by allowing the patients to freely explore all their repressed identities.

Of course, this is a work of fiction, not gamification or self-help, and the dice method as presented in the story would cause too much trouble IRL. (It does have potential, but it's a subject for serious contemplation.) In any case, the story is entertaining and inspiring, especially due to the writing, full of cynical humour which spices up the mundane scenes and lengthy inner monologues. All the explicit erotic scenes are squarely tongue-in-cheek and turn out as hilarious parodies.

5/5. This book may be not to everyone's liking, but a perfect match for me.

(P.S. Apparently it's "cult classic", published in 1971. I've only discovered it now, by accident.)

And another thing...

May. 23rd, 2017 05:46 pm
hollymath: (Default)
[personal profile] hollymath
And it's just as well I've got my passport and marriage license and stuff back, because I'm going to need them tomorrow because I've got a job interview.

For a job helping disabled people get jobs, so I think I'd be the best at it frankly, but we'll see.

Cue me finding this out at 4:30 this afternoon, it being at 11:10 tomorrow morning, and me wishing I could spend the rest of the evening looking for suitable clothes and identity documents and stuff (honestly, we get all our bills paperless if we can; it's hard to do this these days!).

And also having a big WI event to help with, starting in about half an hour, so I can't even a) properly devote myself to this or b) go to sleep, which is what after all this overwhelm I really want to do.


May. 23rd, 2017 05:30 pm
hollymath: (Default)
[personal profile] hollymath
I owe Dreamwidth a much better post about this, but I also want everyone to know: today I found out my citizenship application had been approved and my passport and other important documents have been returned to me.

I'm not officially a citizen until I do the ceremony, which I should find out about in the next week or so. (While I continue to want no one there for that, I'm very happy to have as many people as want to and can, in a pub nearby waiting for me to be done with it.) But this is basically it. Done now. Until a few years ago, this would have made me indistinguishable from a person who's British because they're born in Britain. Our previous, immigrant-hating Home Secretary changed that, but it's still pretty good.

I am so grateful to all the people who backed my Kickstarter to make this application possible, to my friends who signed my application as references, to everyone who's told me that the UK is better for having me in it, and especially for Andrew who's into his second decade of tolerating the expense, stress and diminution of his own rights in his own country as the spouse of a foreigner. And that's even before the day-to-day horrors of me not letting him buy the hundred-quid six-CD set of one album that he doesn't like all that much anyway, and suchlike.

(no subject)

May. 23rd, 2017 11:04 am
neonhummingbird: (Default)
[personal profile] neonhummingbird
So, the Animal Planet thing with Chloe has expanded in scope -- now they want to do an interview with me at the shelter (I have the questions so I can hopefully prep a little and not babble incoherently), and also to come to my condo the next day to do a shoot of her in her new home. I assume all of this will basically be one, maybe two, people with a GoPro shooting for the AP web site, but still! I must CLEAN! It's all a little surreal, given how much time I've spent watching Animal Planet and seeing "follow-up" stories of adopted animals in their new homes. And now, my Chloe will be the star of one of those follow-up bits. So yeah. Surreal.

Still getting back into the swing after a week in Dallas -- great weather, some fun shopping (I adore antique malls so very, very much; it's my second favorite shopping next to thrifting), movies with Dad (The Fifth Element was GREAT on the big screen, and GotG2 of course rocked), gardening with Mom, taking Katee for walks, and just general low-key hanging out, which was awesome. I am SO behind in posting Flickr pictures (the Dallas Arboretum was in full bloom and had a gorgeous exhibit of Zimbabwean sculpture, and we were literally finished and back in the car 15 seconds before the skies opened up) and I might try and get to that over Memorial Day weekend.

I also went up into the attic and sorted through all of my childhood books, and found some very old and dear friends: The Mole Family Christmas, the kids book about the hippo in the garden in Dar Es Salaam, some YAs that I read over and over, my ENTIRE stash of YA romances, wow. Some of them came home with me, some have been transferred to bins (still in my parents' attic) because the boxes they were in were literally dissolving. I'm on a crusade at home to weed out a lot of my books (already been through the sf and fantasy, moving on to the romances) -- the ones available in ebooks if I want them, that I will never read again in dead tree edition, and that I don't have a sentimental attachment to. I expect to still have a considerable collection, but hopefully I will also have bookshelf room for the precious young reader and YA books, and to display other stuff. The culls are going to Friends of Bezazian Library this round, because Chicago doesn't fund its public libraries for anything. :P

Oh, and the stupid P-trap under the kitchen sink gave out again, and I suppose I should be grateful it didn't happen while I was out of town, but it's just such a hassle to deal with first thing on a Monday morning: "Oops, the kitchen throw rug is wet, crap!" Hit the hardware store last night for a new seal/washer/rubber flange thingie which is much sturdier than the old one and successfully installed it last night. Also weeded out the weird little plants that were choking my basil seedlings and got my little lavender bush put into a pot outside, hoping it thrives. So I was quite the domestic person last night. I hate plumbing.

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