The group is ready for members: zendom…fandom without the show. It’s a pure, new, innocent fandom. A koan will suffice as a fic contribution, or come and lurk and watch nothing happen, just like in a real fandom.
Archive for October, 2001
You may have noticed that I don’t have blogback comments here, even though I am highly capable on the funky blog stuff front (note the recent additions to the left) and I’ve been having a lot of fun with Liz’s blogbacks. I don’t like things you have to click to read, or that slow down page loading, or that tempt people to add comments like that’s cool, now visit my website at http://xxxx - but those are not the main reasons for my anti-blogback stance.
The real reason is that I don’t want to hear it. This is a Jemima-friendly web page, where I get my First Amendment right to rant without getting banned, moderated, kicked, blocked or otherwise infringed upon. There will be no C/7-bashing here, no BOFQ clique power trips, not a single slur against Jeri Ryan or Seven of Nine, and no talking back. I’ll just assume you’re a rational human being and you agree with me, so there will be no ditto posting. It has already been pointed out that this is all my opinion, so don’t even try. And if you’re on the receiving end of a rant, there’s no need to defend yourself because whatever it is, believe me, you’re not the only one who’s done it. I wish you were.
If you absolutely must speak, troll me on one of my lists or email me.
So, another marvellous idea of mine, which might have been lost forever in one of Liz’s blogbacks, had I not saved it and reproduced it here:
We could start a Zen fandom - no show, just fans, griping, bitterness…and, of course, a Virtual Non-Season.
Liz was looking for an innocent new fandom. I believe this is the only way…and what’s another moribund list between friends? Excuse me while I go set it up.
Peeve of the Day: fanfic writers who choose their plots specifically to irritate readers into sending feedback. I don’t appreciate being manipulated. If you’d just write a good story, people would send feedback… Well, ok, they don’t, so maybe this sort of behavior is justified. But it’s still an offense against the muse.
And sold! to the gentleman from the South Shore. Yes, folks, it looks like I’m about to be a full-fledged wage-slave. I’ve never had a real job before - I’ve always been self-employed or temporarily employed or employed part-time or paid to go to school (all of those being scams on the employer’s or contractor’s or university’s end to avoid the expense of benefits, not to mention a market-level salary). Don’t get me started on wage-slavery, though - the bitter maggot saga would pale by comparison.
So I was faced with the unfamiliar task of writing an acceptance letter. I found some helpful advice at WriteExpress. Anyway, that’s why I’ve been blogging so much - I have the week off before I start work.
Speaking of letters, I got a pleasant little note from the Postmaster General of the United States this weekend, warning me about anthrax without once using the word anthrax. It’s already been targeted by comedians and wags for the immortal line, “Don’t shake it, bump it, or sniff it.” Oh, and I’m on high alert (again? still?) for goodness-knows-what impending terrorist attack, and my poor mayor has been wrangling with the Coast Guard and the federal government over the right of large, potentially explosive natural-gas tankers to pass through Boston Harbor. Much as I’d like to side with the mayor, it is practically winter already, and many Bostonians use natural gas for heat.
Maybe they can burn stacks of pleasant little postcards from the Postmaster General instead.
Kristin from the C/7 list read my Mamma Mia! blog entry and asked for more information. My answer seems to have satisfied her, so I’ll put it here, too:
All I knew when I walked in was that it was a heartwarming musical about a wedding, featuring ABBA songs. That was enough for me, but then I’m a sucker for musicals, cheesy 70’s music, and filk. I’m reluctant to give away the plot, since I think I enjoyed it more for having no clue what was going to happen.
She concluded that “it’s a standard musical except it uses ABBA songs rather than songs written by Gershwin, Hammerstein or Lloyd Webber.” That is correct, if somewhat understated. Now run, do not walk, to the Winter Garden Theatre to see it.
I’ve been on the [name censored] list for five days and I’ve already been trolled. I was supposed to be lurking - I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved, but I just can’t help it. Put me in a room with a bitter old voy queen and blood is gonna flow.
Sorry, but I saw the first season of Voyager. It was not Shakespeare. I saw the seventh season. It was not an ensemble show. It was Star Trek, people - the worthy heir to “Spock’s Brain”, with Tuvok as Uhura, Neelix as Yeoman Rand, Chakotay as Sulu, and Harry as Chekov.
FYI, when I say something, you can just assume it’s my opinion. (You’re not going to get anyone else’s opinion out of me, not even if it’s your Virtual Season and you think Janeway is a psychopath and Owen Paris is a cuddly old teddy-bear.) You don’t have to say it’s my opinion, as though that were a defense of your own untenable arguments. People will know it was my opinion when they see you limping away, leaving that trail of blood.
The ironic part is that it was the same troll (or one of them) who stirred up the bitter maggots a week back, which led to Liz’s original bitter maggot blog, then to the whole bitter maggot saga, and, like a bad VOY time travel paradox (and they were all bad), back in a circle to this current bitter blog entry.
Bitter maggot mode off - italics mode off
The point of this blog was not to make myself (more) enemies. I get along with other New Englanders, really I do. And Australians, apparently.
My apologies to Liz for filling her logs while trying to link her permalinks. There’s been an addition to the bitter maggot saga, namely, Liz is born again. As long as I’m stealing Liz’s content, I may as well steal the links, too: I adored the bitter old fic queen monologue. My last bitter maggot statement should be in just that form. Stay tuned…
I was too busy permalinking yesterday to talk about my moving songfic experience earlier in the day. I took my mom to see Mamma Mia! at the Colonial Theater here in Boston. It was…indescribable. I think only fanfic writers can truly appreciate the skill required to fit a story to the music. There’s nothing like it, except, of course, The ABBA by monkee.
Mamma Mia! is going to Broadway next. If you’re in NYC, run, do not walk, to see it.
Actually, I’m still trying to figure out this blog linking thing, since something strange is happening here at blogspot, that wouldn’t be happening if I had a site I could ftp to. Speaking of sites, I should go check if Crosswinds has risen from the dead yet.
If you’ve come from Liz’s blog (where it’s already tomorrow), the original bitter maggot blog is a few days back, on October 23rd. There’s some way to link directly to it, which I’ll figure out later. Today’s blog is on a similar theme.
And if you’re interested in dark and a/u Voyager stories, come join visdark on Yahoogroups.