Bleeding Fiction

In a show of generosity towards me (and spite towards her teenage daughter, who was being obnoxious), one of my co-workers gave me a chicken-caesar sandwich she'd bought at Wegmans. I was leaving work hella late today and was hella hungry. Also, I am not a wasteful man, you see, so I did not turn the sandwich down.

Oh, how I regret my efficiency!

The sandwich was riddled with tiny bacon bits. I didn't realize this until I was 3/4 of the way through the sandwich.

I am allergic to pork, you may recall. And bacon is made of pork!

I have been feeling ill for most of the night.

I'm reminded of a similar event, a few months back, when Marie poisoned me... I survived that time (though the emotional damage was crippling), and I'll survive this one.

But my stomach hurts.

Back when I moved to Seattle, I got off the plane at 10am and had signed my lease by 5pm. I took a little longer, finding a place in Syracuse. I had a job now; an income. So I could afford to live in a place, in an area, more to my liking than the tiny apartment in the noisy University District I had before I moved. It was four days, then, before I found my current apartment.

But I don't want to talk about that today. I want to talk about the area I live in, first. I'm about 25 minutes walk from Syracuse University - on the other side of Eerie Boulevard, near the intersection of 690 and 81 (for those who know Syracuse reasonably well). It's a nice little community, if getting a bit gentrified.

You can actually see it as you walk down my street, all within the space of three blocks. Start on S. Crouse and walk towards Armory Square. The houses start sort of ramshackle; peeling paint, worn wood, drooping eaves. The next block, things get nicer; you've got straight wood and fresh paint. Half a block before mine, and things are very nice indeed; There's a lot of new brick by where I live.

I also live in what is apparently Syracuse's gay district. An increase in tolerance is common in gentrified areas, but the realization of whole thing's been a little funny. I met some of my neighbors a few days after I moved in. "Hi, my name's Will," said one of the men as I walked past them, where they were sitting on their porch. "And this is my husband, Joe." I didn't think gay marriage was legal in New York state, but rock on.

A few days later, I was looking for a present for Marie. Just around the corner from my house is a store called The Lavender Inkwell. I thought it was a card-shop or something. I figured I might get Marie an empty notebook to take to Norway. What is it really? Gay bookshop. The owners looked at me really funny when I went in there; I opted not to buy any of the leather magazines.

Last week, I saw an interracial couple gay walking down the street, arm-in-arm. I thought of Scrubs right away.

Today I met the proprietor of the hair salon on the corner of the street, while he was talking with one of my afore-mentioned neighbors. His goatee is a bit much, but he did invite me to stop in and say hi, read the magazines, have some of his fabulous cookies (no, I am not making that up).

I've always described Syracuse as a busted boom-town filled with bikers, townies and unemployed line-workers. I think of it, like I do most of upstate New York, as staunchly conservative. I never really figured it was the sort of town where you'd find a sizable and out gay community.

Live and learn.

Some of you have heard me talk about the book Whales on Stilts in the past. Some of you have even read it. It's a beautiful thing; a wonderfully pulpy, silly, quickly-read children's book of a thing. Well, I've just finished the sequel, The Clue of the Linoleum Lederhosen.

It's not as good as its predecessor, but maybe that's just because I prefer pulp adventure more than I prefer detective novels - and as the word "clue" in the title might tell you, this is an example of the later. It's a little less manic, I think, but shares the same style - an odd wink-and-a-nod way that the author breaks the fourth wall and addresses the reader; a certain tongue-in-cheek approach to laying out what the author acknowledges are tropes.

You think it's just a totally silly, if somewhat self-aware for the benefit of adults, children's novel. But..

Well...

There's a question I've been asking myself since I read Whales On Stilts. A question about one of the characters, Jasper Dash, Boy Technonaut, and the issue of timing. Towards the end of ...Lederhosen, two of the main characters raise that very same question, lay it hauntingly right on the table, and then take it one step further.

If the title alone were not enough, this wonderful step would make me slaver for the next book in the series, Jasper Dash and the Flame-Pits of Delaware.

April cannot come soon enough.

(or: So When Is R. Talsorian Re-Releasing Castle Falkenstein?)

Stardust opened yesterday. You've probably seen the commercials; they feature Michelle Pfieffer and Robert deNiro, even though neither one of them actually stars in the movie. The movie's based on the (profoundly awesome) "fairy-tale for adults" novel written by Neil Gaiman, and you all know I'm a big fan of Mr. Neil Gaiman. Also, the director said he was going for a "Princess Bride meets Pirates of the Caribbean" vibe in making the thing.

I had some high expectations for this movie, going in, is what I'm trying to say.

Let me say, right up front, that my expectations were not disappointed in the end. I really loved the movie.

Now, that said, I think the first act was a little weak - fairly rushed and not wonderfully written; heavy-handed at times without needing or even meaning to be. It was enjoyable enough, but I spent those first 20 minutes or so with a sinking feeling in my gut, going "is this it? It's nice, but is this as good as it's going to get?"

About 20-30 minutes in, starting from the sequence at the inn, everything started to pick up. After that, there was enough danger to keep the rushed parts feeling right, and enough relaxation to let the writers (and actors) take their time.

Now, as is true with almost any book-made-movie there were changes in plot made in the transition. Most of them, I felt, only enhanced the story for film. Getting rid of the concept of the Market as a thing Wall-folk and other-folk both went to, for example, was a good thing; it would've taken too much out of the film to handle that way. Extending the sequence in the air to more than a quick narration was a great idea, and worked fab-ulously (heh, heh), though I'm not sure I like the captain's name change.

On the other hand, there were a few changes that I found... irksome. Of course, they were almost all in the first act, so I probably just wish they hadn't changed so that act hadn't felt so rushed. I preferred the book's way of Tristan getting over the Wall, where his father talks to the guard and they agree to let him cross. I miss the sequence with the serewood, and think it could've been rewritten to include Yvainne and add some early danger and tension.

I could've definitely done without the coronation at the end; Tristan and Yvainne purposefully leaving to go on more adventures together is just more fun. But, then, that would've worked a little better if Una came across as more manipulative, as she did in the book, which was cool.

That, then, is Stardust in a nutshell. Very, very, very worth seeing. You should go and see it, if you haven't already. Right now. I, myself, am tempted to go and see it again today, actually. Even if I don't, I know that I'll buy on DVD and watching QUITE a lot of.

From untold reaches of the universe... Came a legend.

The legend of Voltron.

It's live action. And it takes place on earth: "a post-apocalyptic tale set in New York City and Mexico. Five ragtag survivors of an alien attack band together and end up piloting the five lion-shaped robots that combine and form the massive sword-wielding Voltron that helps battle Earth's invaders."

I know, I know: Transformers was cool.

But...

I dunno about this.