oloriel: (Default)
1. So, like.... what's the etiquette about following other people on Tumblr? Like, do you just "follow" and go on with your life? Or are you expected to introduce & explain yourself? Or what? HELP ME, FLIST-WAN KENOBI, YOU'RE MY ONLY HOPE.

2. What have I gotten myself into?
oloriel: Stitch (from Disney's Lilo and Stitch) posing after the manner of Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian Man. (grins)
Seen on the page of an online Latin dictionary:

Nostri consocii (Google-Adsense, Affilinet) crustulis memorialibus utuntur. Concedis, nisi perlegere desinis.


CRUSTULI MEMORIALES!!! I'm sorry but this amuses me BEYOND ALL REASON. This is what the internet is for!
oloriel: Darth Maul with a rainbow painted on his forehead. (sw - so happy i could shit rainbows)

Not necessarily a bad Week, but a very full Week.

I feel like I should be be talking about the fantasy convention at the local castle, or the trip to the local Kirmes (fun fair), Julian's first week in Kindergarten, or the other trip to the Kirmes.

But the Week is not yet over, and another momentous event is rearing its head.

So yeah. No time to talk. House to clean, dinner to make, anxieties to soothe, Schultüte to fill...

We'll see how that goes!
oloriel: (tolkien fandoms pwns all)

when designing dragons, there's a fine fine line between "terrifying" and "ridiculous".

[from the diary of Melkor, 223 F.A.]
oloriel: A fluffy grey bunny next to the words "write me". (writing woes)
While I'm sitting here procrastinating starting on my Silm40 War of Wrath art, lemme share another amusing (well, I thought it was amusing) bit from Tolkien's biography.

Sooo he's in his 70s now and retired and unexpectedly wealthy and people are willing to publish pretty much anything with his name on it so his chances of having the Silmarillion printed are pretty good. That means he's got to get 50 years worth of early drafts and disjointed tales and vagueish outlines and experimental family trees, plus the characters he randomly introduced in The Lord of the Rings (like who is this Galadriel woman? NOBODY KNOWS SHE WAS JUST SUDDENLY THERE) in some kind of working order. Basically it's a shitload of work and he really wants to get a crack on it because it's his life's dream and he knows he's running out of time and he sits in his study/garage and...
plays game after game of Patience* and does no writing whatsoever.

That's so... relatable? I mean, I'm willing to bet that everyone reading this has, at some point, put off writing something - be it creative or academic or work-related (or all of the above, if you're lucky?) - and put it off in order to do something completely different. Be it playing round after round of Solitaire or Minesweeper or some more elaborate computer game, or just obsessively checking e-mails or social media. (That's another thing Tolkien apparently kept on doing, searching for some early draft and instead picking up some piece of fan mail and answering at length.) Right? We've all done that. You might be doing it right now, reading your f-list instead of doing whatever you should be doing.

But I love that detail not because I can connect to it on a personal level, but above all because it shows that, yet again, it's not Young People These Days and it's not Those Damn Smartphones And Computers. It's just people, perhaps creative people in particular but it might just be people in general. When they had no digital means of playing Solitaire, they used actual physical cards. Before cards, they probably used dice or sheep knuckles or tesserae or whatever. Cicero's shitload of letters to Atticus are probably the ancient Roman way of obsessively checking your e-mails. It's just human nature and maybe we should just accept that instead of beating ourselves up over it.

(I mean, the Silmarillion did get published eventually. Somehow. Well, four years after the author's death and only due to the heroic efforts of his youngest son but whatev.)

(FWIW, I did rework my fail!sketches from back in March and am now a bit more hopeful that I might actually be able to pull it off. So there. I've totally earned myself a round of procrastination. UPDATE DAMN YOU. :P)

*Solitaire, for those of you outside Europe or younger than 25.


Aug. 8th, 2017 08:20 pm
oloriel: (i did something stupid)
I'm physically sick with anxiety for one, or both, of two reasons.

- finished and posted the questionable meta/shipping manifesto/essay/thing. Well, probably pretentious enough to count as an essay. 44 references on six pages, WTF. Also, provocative much. And probably offending the wrong people. Why did I ever think this was a good idea. Time for the usual "They're gonna kick me out of fandom" angst and much internal hand-wringing etc. The canatics are going to kill me anyway.

- got a call from the bossman from hell. More angst. Turns out they pretty urgently need someone competent to do the calendar of events. Everything has gotten better since last year except that clearly it hasn't. (Between the lines, masked between plenty of "his qualities lie elsewhere" and "the trainee is helping out but you need solid general knowledge to do it right", it appears that the rest of the team just aren't up to it. Well, it is taxing, and the things that were supposed to make it easier last year actually made it worse, which has probably not changed.) Well, I know I can do the job. It wasn't the fun part of working at the magazine but it wasn't the worst either. The question isn't even "do I want to do it?" (To which the answer is "meh, but I don't terribly mind", which is prbly good enough?) The question is "should I sell my soul to that particular devil again" and. I just don't know.



Aug. 3rd, 2017 09:25 pm
oloriel: A fluffy grey bunny next to the words "write me". (writing woes)

I have been out of academia for so long that I have forgotten how to do citations ;_; Send help.

Then again, I don't think I've ever felt the need to quote a song in an essay for academia. I once did quote Monty Python's killer rabbit scene for the Shibboleth of Elizabeth I essay*, but quoting Meat Loaf in an essay (or is it just a shipping manifesto? meta? a pathetic defence of mah OTP? i don't know really) is a new one even for me². Is there even a rule for it? Damn, this is not what I signed up for all I was supposed to write was a damn love story and this is what my mind comes up with WHYYYY

Incidentally, [personal profile] elleth, this is all your fault. But you should have done the job yourself BECAUSE I SUCK

- - -

*not the actual title of the essay but the tag I used for it on LJ.

²not the most inappropriate choice of quote though. I mean, my husband managed to quote Asterix in Switzerland for his PhD thesis in Chemistry. His geekery may be different from mine, but geekery it is.
oloriel: A few lines of Tengwar calligraphy. (blatant tolkienism)
SOOO for the purpose of this month's SWG challenge I am re-reading Humphrey Carpenter's Tolkien biography. (The topic of the challenge is love stories. The muses insist on an essay. Don't ask.) I know I keep saying that, but maybe I haven't yet said it here, so let me put it out here: I really really wish that Tolkien's biography could be turned into a movie at some point, because WHAT A LIFE, WHAT A CHARACTER. Seriously, it would be like Angela's Ashes, only with more Elves?

But anyway. I stiiiill haven't fouuuund what I'm looking for, but I have found plenty of great anecdotes. I know some posts have been making the rounds on Tumblr about John "Road Rage" Tolkien, and him and C.S.Lewis attending a party (NOT a costume party) dressed up as polar bears, and these are indeed delightful tales, but there are so. many. more. Many of which have been dear to my heart for years but I keep forgetting half of them and only recall them upon re-reading, so let me share them now.

There's the debating society thing, where young JRRT gives his maiden speech on a motion supporting the objects and tactics of the suffragettes. I had completely forgotten about that! How unexpected is that! Mind you, considering that this is the school debating society, everything should probably be taken with a grain of salt as it may purely be meant to provoke. But as this is also the source of the motion (probably of his own devising) 'That this House deplores the occurrence of the Norman Conquest' and the '[...]sudden flood of unqualified abuse upon Shakespeare, upon his filthy birthplace, his squalid surroundings, and his sordid character', two convictions which appear to be taken as set in stone by a lot of fans and scholars, that's certainly interesting. ("his filthy birthplace, his squalid surroundings and his sordid character"? I mean YMMV but does that sound like it's supposed to be taken literally? Incidentally, I find it curious that Carpenter adds "probably of his own devising" to the thing on the Norman Conquest, since he earlier related the story of the teacher who insisted on the use of plain old English words rather than posh Norman loan words, cf. muck vs. manure. So yeah, the speech may have been Tolkien's, but the idea? Less so? Incidentally incidentally, for a linguist who supposedly so hated the Norman influences on the English language, Tolkien certainly uses a shitload of Anglo-Norman words in the Lay of Leithian, starting in fact with "Lay", but what do I know.)


There's the delightful description of Tolkien's graduation: 'The school-porter was sent by waiting relatives to find me,' [Tolkien] recalled years later. 'He reported that my appearance might be delayed. "Just now," he said, "he's the life and soul of the party." Tactful. In fact, having just taken part in a Greek play, I was clad in a himation and sandals, and was giving what I thought a fair imitation of a frenzied Bacchic dance.' (I WOULD PAY GOOD MONEY TO SEE THAT ON SCREEN OMG.)

Then it's off to Oxford and the typical town vs. gown rags: 'At ten to nine we heard a distant roar of voices and knew that there was something on foot so we dashed out of College and were in the thick of the fun for two hours. We "ragged" the town and the police and the proctors all together for about an hour. Geoffrey and I "captured" a bus and drove it up to Cornmarket making various unearthly noises followed by a mad crowd of mingled varsity and "townese". It was chockfull of undergrads before it reached the Carfax. There I addressed a few stirring words to a huge mob before descending and removing to the "maggers memugger" or Martyr's Memorial where I addressed the crowd again." [emphasis mine]
*rolls under the table in helpless laughter* Fëanor? Fëanor is that you?

Or a brief return to his old school where he met up with his friends of the T.C.B.S. to perform the first ever play by an English dramatist performed at King Edward's School in Birmingham. After their performance of Sheridan's The Rivals, "the school magazine reported: J.R.R.Tolkien's Mrs Malaprop was a real creation, excellent in every way and not least so in make-up." AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! (Aside from the fact that it amuses me to no end that this super-obsessed linguist would play Mrs Malaprop of all characters, I also relish the idea of Tolkien's exploits as cross-dresser.)

On that note, this also had me rolling my eyes: [...] while as to homosexuality Tolkien claimed that at nineteen he did not even know the word.
That's such suspiciously specific phrasing that I immediately feel reminded of the "Exact Words" section over at TVTropes. I mean, I can practically see the entirety of the interview: "And was there any kind of, hm, homosexual behaviour at your all-male school, Prof. Tolkien?" - *deadpan* "Homosexual behaviour? Good God, at that age I didn't even know the word. *chews on pipe* Back then, we simply called it buggery." - "CUT! CUT!"

At any rate, I think these crazy little episodes deserve more attention because a lot of fandom (and even more of "scholarship") has this mental image of Tolkien as this unworldly, uptight, super-serious scholar. So let's not forget that this supposedly unworldly, uptight, super-serious scholar danced on the table wearing nothing but a sheet and sandals, or hijacked a bus (WTF WTF?!) and made stirring speeches to a crowd of Oxford students and citizens (AHAHAHAH), and who strutted around on stage in petticoats and make-up. I think Tolkien scholars in particular could benefit from the occasional reminder of a frenzied Bacchic dance. Also, sympathising with suffragettes? I guess this is where Erendis got her rhetoric?

But of course the "Charge 'em and they'll scatter" story is gold as well. So keep on reblogging it, it makes me happy whenever I see it.
oloriel: A fluffy grey bunny next to the words "write me". (writing woes)

So I volunteered to produce a hand-out for the Grey Camp at Drachenfest and I love and loathe the job in equal measure. I mean, I get to put in such awesome shit like,

"for young adepts of the Grey Path aged 6-16 (or the equivalent age among your people)"

"Uiriel offers translations into English, French, Latin and Sindarin"

"Wanted: DWARF (M/F) as embassador to the Dwarven colony in Aldradach. Requirements: respectable beard, hard-drinking,"

On the other hand, I despair over the question of how to inclusively address all the different magic-workers and it's literally impossible. Because even "magic-workers" doesn't work with clerics and priests (their power isn't magic! In fact, they probably hate magic! They ~*~work miracles~*~). "Supernatural powers" will get you in a fight with shamans, druids and witches who insist that their powers are perfectly natural. And so on. So all I can do is list the lot and hope I won't forget anyone! [SPOILER: I definitely will, there are so damn many options.] Nobody wants to be an "etc."!

Yeah, I thought presenting this thing as an in-character newsletter was a good idea but now I'm not so sure...
oloriel: Darth Maul with a rainbow painted on his forehead. (sw - so happy i could shit rainbows)
In accordance with the prophecy and year-long planning, we attended the big Lower Rhenian trade fair last weekend. There, although I may be one of the biggest Luddites of my generation, I was finally convinced of the usefulness of tablets. I know I know, everyone uses them but I just didn't see the point so far. But now I finally acquired one.

Cut for pics, rambling and silliness )
oloriel: The Ravenclaw badge from Harry Potter next to the words: "I never make stupid mistakes. Only very, very clever ones." (hp - i don't make stupid mistakes)
By the unfathomable algorithm that assigns the ~90 new kids to their teachers and classes, Felix was sorted into Raven class. This naturally amuses me a lot.

The meeting went well. I continue to be positively impressed, even if the teacher speaks a bit too emphatically slow for my tastes. (None of Felix' kindergarten teachers used or use a special "small children and fools" pitch. More's the pity, because one of the old ones had a voice like fingernails on a blackboard, and another spoke like a drill sergeant! So I guess there's worse things than emphatically slow. This teacher has a very warm and pleasant voice, at any rate.)

I also continue to be somewhat sad that the Flixster makes things a lot harder on himself than they need to be. I know that Felix starts to squirm and goof around and act absent-minded because he's embarrassed and anxious about doing something wrong, so he acts like he isn't interested at all, but of course that's exactly the sort of behaviour that leads to strangers thinking that he's a) trying to piss them off or b) on the spectrum (possibly both). But the teacher was a woman of great patience and equally great experience and cracked his shell pretty quickly by first showing him around the classroom and then challenging him to some reading and counting games. Since he likes to excel and feels comfortable about letters and numbers, that went well. (It's when he doesn't feel secure about something that his desire to be the best seriously gets in the way. Ah, that paralysing mixture of ambition and fear of failure, I know it so well!) Embarassing moment: When he made a mistake (not even a proper mistake, it was actually just a misunderstanding), he berated himself rather severely, and I expect the teacher now thinks that he's got that from us, the parents. Which is not true! The only thing he undoubtedly got from us is that dratted inner perfectionist! I keep telling him that it's alright to make mistakes and that mistakes help you to learn! Which the teacher duly told him as well, repeatedly. He acted as if it was a completely new idea. *sigh* Well, perhaps he needed to hear it from somebody else.
(When I suggested piano lessons or some other musical instrument to him, he said "No, I don't want to", and when I asked why, he said "Because I don't know how to do it!" Sweety, that's what lessons are about!)

At any rate, it is now established that Felix will probably start on the material for second grade in most fields. (First and second grade are in mixed classes and the material is adapted to different learning speeds anyway, so this will be very easy to do, logistically.) I had sort of hoped to avoid that because, because let's face it, emotionally Felix is more like only-just-five rather than almost-six, let alone seven like normal second-graders. But the teacher judges that he'd quickly be bored even by the more challenging first-grader material and it'd be unwise to hold him back. She's probably right. But the fact remains that he's already smaller than most kids his age, so when he habitually gets to work with kids who are actually older, it gets even harder to keep up. Physically and in terms of maturity! It's not his intellectual capacities I'm worried about. But at least his teacher is sympathetic - when I apologised for Felix' fidgeting and yawning at the end of the meeting, she just smiled sagely and said "We have to remember that he's still a very young child". Yes! That's something that's so easy to forget because he's so precocious sometimes, even for his doting parents and grandparents, and it was apparently impossible to grasp for the folks at his old kindergarten. So if this teacher can keep it in mind, that's worth a lot.

Next week, the whole class will assemble for the first time, and I'm glad he already knows his way around the room so maybe there'll be less need to play down his anxiety. Of course, I won't know! They'll meet without their parents present! TERRIFYING THOUGHT! My baby! My snowflake!

What went less well is that in the end, because Felix is still a very young child, he scuffled with his even younger brother and thus forgot to take along the notebook the teacher gave him to playfully work on his penmanship. Embarrassing, that. I hope she found it and keeps it until next week's get-together...
oloriel: (summer sea)
Sooo, time to fess up: I wasn't just internetless for a week, I was away from home for two, too! Nobody will be surprised at this point that this year's vacation - the last vacation in which we were independent from the school holidays and their ludicrously raised prices for presumably a long time - took us to Britanny once more. Yes, it was good. No, it was not long enough. A picspam is probably imminent. If I manage to sort through the hundreds of pictures while trying to take care of stupid adult priorities and the garden, that is. Don't hold your breath.

Speaking of school, while we were gone Felix' future teacher called and left a message. True to the school's assurances that each and every student is supported individually, she would like to meet Felix in advance so she and the classroom will be familiar, and also so she can decide which (if any) books to get for him instead of the standard. I am positively impressed.

Speaking of books, while we were gone, my signed copy of Flowers of Luna arrived! Fortunately, the post office held it until I was back. Snail mail was faster than expected. Thank you so much, Jen, your dedication made me blush and it's going to be so much fun to read FoL as a real! physical! book! <3

Speaking of books again, re-reading A Game Of Curule Chairs the Cicero trilogy for the third time. Repetitio obviously placet because I CANNOT STOP. Are we witnessing the beginnings of a new obsession or are we already well past the beginning stage? You decide. Seriously, ALL THE FEELS.

Speaking of obsessions, the gorgeous Vanity Fair shots from The Last Jedi are also instilling me with all the feels. ALL THE FEELS YOU GALS. This one, for instance,

begs two questions, namely,
1) how long until I try to replicate that rebel alliance gambeson, because seriously, it's awesome and
2) does the slash write itself or DOES IT WRITE ITSELF?

Having now proven that I have a long way to go as far as adult priorities go, I think I shall retire to bed. YES, WITH CICERO. I know, I know, desperate stay-at-home moms in their mid-thirties are supposed to fall for Edward the Sparkle Vampire, not dead Roman politicians! (Guest commentary from Jörg: "I know you have a thing for older men but that's a bit excessive, don't you think?") Whatevs!

Night night!
oloriel: (Default)
Soooo I have no internet for a week and the world goes batshit. Again. I'll assume that the batshit didn't happen as a direct consequence of my offlinishness. I'll also assume that enough has been said about the batshit so I don't have to try and sum it up now.

Instead, I'll babble a bit about fannish matters.

Being without internet access, I was afraid that I'd miss the deadline for this month's SWG challenge. Finished the story (without access to my online sources, wah!), and today the internet came back so I managed to post it. Afterwards, I learned that the deadline has been postponed by two weeks (!!!) because so many people found it hard to meet it.
I should be relaxed and content but instead, I'm all fidgety and anxious. I mean, basically there are two options,
A) I got the challenge completely wrong and my response is useless and people will hate me and I'll get kicked out of the SWG (yes, I know it's not that kind of guild! Try to get my amygdala to understand that!). Half my f-list will kick me off theirs because I'm too stupid to belong there.
B) I just happened to be lucky and all is well.
(In all honesty, I chose Galadriel as my protagonist because you can basically throw every prompt at her and it'll work with her story somehow, right?)

I've decided against giving in to my panicked inner critic and rework the whole story because of an anecdote my husband likes to tell about his graduation exams in maths. It was a four-hour exam and he was done after two hours, so like any normal person, he was convinced that he had missed something important. So he triple-checked his responses and, indeed, he found an error pretty early on in his calculation, based on which all the rest of his response was wrong. Relieved, he reworked the whole thing and handed it in.
His grade was OK, albeit not as good as he'd hoped.
Ten years later, you can look into your exam papers, and Jörg was curious.
Next to the erroneous calculations that Jörg had crossed out, the teacher had scrawled "1+" (the best possible grade in Germany). Underneath the corrected calculations, the official grade of "2-" (between B and C) was accompanied by "too bad". Jörg had got it right the first time... and because he hadn't trusted his luck, had thrown away a perfect grade.
(On the other hand, he scored one in Latin because the exam text happened to be something he'd translated with a student he was tutoring a mere week before the exam. I can tell that story now because this was all a long time ago! As illustrated by the fact that he could choose Latin for his language exam. (I hear my old school recently added Chinese to the exam canon. O tempora, o mores. Not that there's anything wrong with Chinese, it just goes to show how the focus has changed!))

So I'm just not gonna touch it at this point and see what happens. It's only fanfic, right?
(Whom am I kidding. It's never "only fanfic". It's always a brainchild that's out in a potentially hostile world!)

- - -

Since it's now getting broadcast on German TV, I could use this chance to rant about everything that annoyed me about the ultimate season of Sherlock, but I'm not sure I should open that can of worms. Or should I? Do any of you want to? For the time being, let me just make fun of myself. There's definitely a LOT of beef to be had with that Sherlock season but the thing that bothers me most? Potential spoiler for Sherlock S4 )
oloriel: (Default)

Article in the newspaper today: Hoverboards not to be used on public streets.

So there we are. We need general regulations concerning the use of hoverboards, and Biff Tannen is president of the United States of America. We're officially living in the 2017 based on the "bad" 1985, aren't we?

[Also, this is officially my first crosspost from DW. Yay? Let's see if it works?]
oloriel: (tolkien - iNulindale)

Soooo! Welcome to the Eurovision Song Contest 2017 not-entirely-live blog. I'll take it that all my gentle readers are familiar with the delightful, over-the-top insanity that's the ESC, but just in case anyone isn't, last year's hosts kindly provided a performance to explain how to produce the perfect winner song, which explains... well, not everything, but a lot:

Peace Peace Love Love (And A Burning Fake Piano)

It is worth noting that all of the things on that stage have been done in past years - yes, including the hamster wheel, the butter-churning, the Russian guy on skates and the Finnish monster rockers - although not all of them have actually won. (Quite a few of them have, though!)

It is also worth nothing that there are actually several winner songs that were not about Love Love Peace Peace, including last year's (and also including Måns' own song "Heroes", which was more about... fighting your inner demons? Something like that, anyway). But on the whole, this is pretty appropriate.

And this is where we apply a cut for length )
oloriel: (love.)
so I'm glad I didn't commit myself to liveblogging about it. (I do hope I'll manage to do the finals on Saturday.)

I did not actually go to bed. But because it was a rather unexciting Semifinal, I couldn't tear my eyes off Robert Harris' Imperium until there was no more book left. It was RIVETING, I tell you, and I can't wait to get my hands on the sequels! Amusingly, the ESC made quite a nice backdrop of noise to it, in spite of the rather non-period quality of the music, although whenever there was a wave of applause, I was kind of confused to see a bunch of Ukrainian prettyboys in smart grey suits rather than a senator in toga candida, but nevermind. Immersion is good, right? Actually, it's been a long time since I got so immersed in any work of professionally published fiction, and I'm not even a fan of political or legal drama! -- Mind you, I may have developed a major fictional/historical crush on Marcus Tullius Cicero. Oh dear. I can only hope that he and Maedhros will get along in my limited headspace.

Maedhros *side-eyes hard*: And who would you be.
Cicero *calmly ordering the folds of his toga*: Your lawyer.
Maedhros: ... right.

Well, I guess that's settled then.

- - -

Also yesterday, I got surprise!flowers! Not from Cicero. Not from the husband, either! Not, in fact - before the tongues start wagging - from any man (living or otherwise). They're gorgeous and I feel rather guilty because I'm so horrible at sending out gifts or even just a damn card on time. I haven't had such a lovely bouquet since my wedding, good grief! THANK YOU SO MUCH! You know who you are. <3 I am in equal measures delighted and ashamed.

We're obviously talking about the big bouquet here. The lil' cuckoo flowers were plucked by Felix at my parents' place.

- - -

While I'm on the topic of TV and fandoms anyway, in accordance with the prophecy air dates we've finished watching the second season of The Last Kingdom, which was also riveting. (I did not end up with a fictional/historical crush on Alfred the Awesome, though, although David Dawson is really doing a fantastic job. I am, alas, less excited about Æthelflæd, who is brilliant in the books. Well, she's young, she might be awesome in future episodes.) Sadly, the costume design is, for the most part, still out of this world (that is to say, completely absurd). But the pacing was excellent. If we could have, we would have binge-watched the whole thing because waiting a whole week was hardly bearable, and I say that as someone who already knows the books! (Naturally, the series deviates from the books quite a bit, but the cornerstones remain.) Even Jörg, who was rather sore about the changes from the books in the first season (he's new to this having his fandom turned into film thing ;)) didn't mind it this time around, although we did miss the warfare-with-bees at Beamfleot. (But to be fair, Sword Song wasn't the strongest book in the series, so merging it with The Lords of the North may have been a very good move.) So now the waiting for the third season begins (assuming that the BBC will produce it in the first place! I very much hope they will!). But at least the latest book in the series is now available in softcover, so that'll keep us going for a bit.

Meanwhile, there's American Gods! Haven't seen anything except for the trailer, but that is looking promising, so I'm seriously considering getting Amazon Prime just for this. Is it worth it? Does anyone know? Argh, I so hope this is gonna be good!
oloriel: (headdesk)

Eruvision Song Contest.

Screw this, I'm going to bed.

*creaky old Maia voice* So this is what they call the Ainulindalë these days ---


May. 5th, 2017 06:30 pm
oloriel: (Og thinks you missed the point)
I just read the MOST STUPID THING on a friend's Tumblr (not written by the friend, just the start of a discussion that the friend reblogged). Granted, I read a LOT OF STUPID THINGS on Tumblr and I produce a lot of stupid things on LJ meself, but this was... special, so here it comes:

It sure is convenient that all these songs that ostensibly weren’t written in English all rhyme when translated into English, isn’t it, Mr. Tolkien?


Gosh. Yes. That sure breaks the suspension of disbelief! It sure is convenient that all these Shakespeare poems that ostensibly weren't written in German all rhyme when translated into German, isn't it? (Or French. Or Spanish. Or probably any language that does full rhymes, I expect?)
oloriel: (subrealism (même goat))

Well, the carriage has been lying in the woods for a long time, but last weekend, it got very new company. And we, once again, didn't notice a thing (aside from Jörg recalling that he heard a strange motor sound at night, but not strange enough to investigate, and then he fell asleep again) until the police appeared in our driveway.

Cut for length and some pics )

So that was an exciting weekend, and now we will sink back into obscurity!
oloriel: (headdesk)

I read the local newspaper, as I may have mentioned before, out of a sense of duty rather than out of real interest. The sense of duty stems from a) having done two internships with them back in the day, and b) feeling obliged to at least skim what's up in the world and in our backwater place. I wouldn't do that online, where I'm a cherry picker and only klick on stuff that looks like it might interest me, but if I have it all spread out on a physical page, I may as well give it a look.

So yeah, I prefer old-fashioned newspapers. They do, however, have their weaknesses, and our local newspaper is particularly guilty of one of them: Early press dates. And then there's the weekend special, which actually gets printed earlier in the week and then has to be delivered come hell or high water.

Or a killing spree/terror attack in Stockholm, which makes the "Why Skandinavians are so happy" weekend special look kinda, I dunno, cynical?

I mean, I understand the technical issues. I understand that Skandinavia-focused travel agencies and books and shops have bought expensive ads in that weekend special so if you don't bring it on the appointed day, you have to give them their money back. I understand that a weekend special takes time to prepare and you can't just ditch one and invent another.
But still. AWKWARD. Why are Skandinavians so happy? IDK DUDE, THEY MIGHT NOT BE SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW.


oloriel: (Default)

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