Photography

Rain, Rain, Go Away

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It’s storming. It’s been raining on and off and on and off and on and off for days, and according to weather.com, it’s supposed to continue in the same pattern for the foreseeable future. Ugh. There are even some rumbles and flashes of lightning, but nothing consistent enough or far enough away–I’m not stupid enough to go stand outside in the lightning!–to motivate me to try to get a photo. Instead, I’d rather just grumble about the bloody weather.

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Instant Review: Black Books

I just got the first season of Black Books from Netflix. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long, long time. I nearly made myself sick. And, I’m not sure why. I suspect that others might not find it quite so riotous as I did. I think it just catered to my weird sense of humor, in all the right ways. Whatever the reason, I found it to be deeply, deeply funny from start to finish.

And, now, I’m going to get off the computer, because it’s starting to get a little nasty outside. I think maybe I should burn hecatombs to the weather gods, so the electricity won’t go out again. Eeep!

Crankypantsing

Pet Care for Assholes

I mentioned previously the moderator of an art group I used to belong to, and all sorts of weirdness surrounded her management of the group–and not just from my POV, either. I’ve since heard some ridiculous stories about her from other folks.

So, anyway, someone in another group posted a link to her LJ, so I thought I’d go see if she was as assy as I remembered.

Aaaand… I walked in on a discussion of her dog’s anal glands, how they were requiring increasingly frequent expressing, and how she was unsatisfied with the way the vet’s staff was handling the problem. M’kaythen! There were several replies, with most of the advice being of the “put a diaper on him” variety. Poor dog. So I left a neutral comment asking whether or not the vet had discussed the issue with her, in terms of possible causes and treatment plans. I said that the dog could have an infection, or worse, and that he may need meds or even the removal of the glands. I was completely ignored. Again, poor dog! You can’t just leave something like that. The dog is in fucking *pain*, asshole. Not only that, but I cannot imagine what it must smell like in her house. But anyway…

So, I checked back, and she did finally take the dog to a new vet. He had an infection (duh!), and is now on meds. On the one hand, I’m glad she got help for her dog, but on the other, I just want to smack her. I just don’t get how people who profess to care about their pets can be so uncaring about them. I could understand it if she was poor, and couldn’t afford vet care, but she’s not. She’s just clueless and lacking in basic empathy.

Actually, it’s the last part that gets me. From the tone of her posts, it’s clear that her major concern is the smell and the inconvenience of her dog EAGing all over her furniture. She never once indicates that she’s even considered that her dog might be experiencing any discomfort. The thing is, there are brazillions of folks like her, and I bet all of them think they’re good, conscientious pet owners. And not a one of them has an empathetic bone in their bodies.

She also mentions switching vets, because she’s unhappy with their service and bookkeeping. She doesn’t know if the shots she paid for were administered. I know there are vets out there who prefer to do shots in a back room, without the owner present, but I sure as fucking hell would not patronize one. No way is a vet, or a tech, taking my dog out of my sight for an vaccinations.

On the bright side, this time she mentioned her “laundry lady” without inserting “Korean” at the beginning.

Crankypantsing

Edited for Content

A federal judge has ruled that it is illegal for 3rd parties to edit films for content. Companies like CleanFlix are now prohibited from selling or renting films from which they have removed sex, violence, profanity, or any other potentially offensive material. Existing sanitized discs and video tapes must be turned over to the studios for destruction.

Sayeth the judge: “What is protected are the creator’s rights to protect its creation in the form in which it was created.”

Amen.

What to do if you are offended by cursing, sex, etc.? Do a little research before buying or renting movies. You wouldn’t go to a theater and expect a film to be edited to your liking. Why should DVDs be any different? If you don’t want to see sex and violence, don’t watch movies containing sex and violence. Easy peasy.

Ironically, I came across a blog post by someone who had just watched The Libertine. They were disturbed by the story, which surprised me. What, exactly, did they expect from a movie about John Wilmot? The mind wobbles.

Art

Shrine (reworked, in progress)

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I was really unhappy with this one, but it was out of sight and out of mind. I pulled it out earlier this evening, thinking that I might see if removing the old, bone “wings” and replacing them with a set of luna moth wings would help. How to attach them, though? Acrylic medium was out, because it would damage the delicate powder coating of the wings. I decided to see what beeswax would do. I hoped, because it could be poured onto the surface without using a brush, that it would protect the wings. It seems to have worked pretty well.

If all goes well, there will be a frieze of cicada shells running along the bottom. Like the luna moth wings, though, I need to figure out how to attach them. They’re light-weight and fragile, so they’re difficult to manipulate.

Bonus: the house smells like beeswax, which is divine.

Photography

Waxing Full

The moon is nearly full. It was especially pretty last night, above the treetops, with a whisp of clouds cradling it. My cheap camera is limited in what it can do in low light, so I played around with Photoshop filters to add even more graininess. When all else fails, pretend that you meant to do that, right? Or, as a friend’s mother likes to say, if something is an eyesore, “Paint it purple.”

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According to my–yes, he is all mine–local weather guy, when there is a halo around the moon, it means there will be precipitation in the near future. It’s caused by ice crystals high up in the atmosphere. It isn’t fool proof, but it seems to be a good general rule.

Speaking of, I’m blaming my lack of productivity on the weather. It’s oppressive–still and humid and hot–and, while I haven’t looked at the weather forecast, based on last night’s moon halo and the viscosity of the air, I suspect it’s going to storm. This sort of weather makes me apprehensive, so I have a difficult time focusing and getting anything accomplished. I dealt with it today by watching mindless television and baking brownies. Yes, I required chocolate, so the Brownies of Dqqm have returned. I also made a big batch of roasted veggies: potatoes, cabbage, onions, carrots, cauliflower, broccoli, and peppers. Why on earth I was suddenly craving baked winter vegetables in the middle of July is a mystery, but I’m not about to argue.

Crankypantsing, Letters to Esther

New Letters to Esther and Teh Internets

I’ve scanned a few more letters that had already been transcribed, and transcribed and scanned a few new ones. There’s one from her father. His letters are short and sweet and sporadic, but they always make me smile. I picture him as a frugal sort, because he always tears away the unused portion of the page. All his letters have a ragged bottom edge. Now that the younger kids are out of school, the letters from Esther’s sister Ruth have picked up in frequency. She was a bright, bubbly girl. I think her letters must give a realistic glimpse into what the Munro household was like.

The whole uploading process has been maddening, though, and has taken me most of the afternoon. My internet connection is topping out at a blazing 7 Kbs/sec, and dipping down below 2 Kbs/sec at times. I’m really fed up with the lack of connectivity in the hinterlands. It seems to me that giving rural folks reasonable access to Teh Internets–and by reasonable, I don’t mean anything extravagant–would be something the powers that be might want to work on, but apparently it has not been, and I suspect will not be, any sort of a priority. It’s difficult enough to make AT&T/SBC provide minimal quality for standard phone service. They can’t be arsed to do anything above and beyond that.

Other than that, it’s been nice and quiet this weekend. I managed to finish mowing the, ahem, “yard,” which was some sort of Herculean task. Between one thing and another, I hadn’t mowed in nearly a month, so the grass was thigh-high in some spots. I had to pop a wheelie with the mower for the first pass, then take a couple more passes. And that was on the highest setting. It looks just awful, too, like someone cut it with a butter knife, or maybe a pair of those blunt lefty scissors from kindergarten. Later in the week, I’ll have to go over it again, on a lower setting, to even it up. I’m sure it’s annoying the crap out of my neighbors. Heh. On second thought, maybe I’ll leave it looking scraggly.

Ladybusiness

Little House on the Prairie

We’ve all seen the Little House on the Prairie television series.  I grew up with it, and with the books.  I thoroughly and (mostly) unreservedly loved both.  It’s been years since I’ve seen the series, and I missed the Disney miniseries that aired a couple of years ago.  When I was in high school, my Little House books were lost in a move, so it’s been even longer since I’ve read them.  Via the magic of Netflix, I’ve been able to watch not only the Disney miniseries, but the original series and its pilot, and I have some rambling and disjointed thoughts and observations.

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Left to right: Caroline, Carrie, Laura, Charles, Grace, and Mary Ingalls

I don’t have satellite or cable TV, and my TV reception is not good enough to get ABC, so I did not see the 2005 miniseries when it aired.  I didn’t even know it existed, until I searched Netflix for the original series.  I watched the miniseries, and was impressed with it.  The sets, costumes, and actors were wonderful.  The script was pretty good, and coincided fairly well with my recollection of the books.  I don’t know how true to history the depiction of the Osage was, but it was believable.   My only quibbles, and they are small, are that the music and the new age crap were out of place.

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Left to right: Carrie, Mary, and Laura Ingalls, circa 1894

Jack, who was a bulldog in real life (the 19th century bulldog was most closely related to today’s Pit Bull), was depicted as an Australian Shepherd.  There was a subplot that revolved around Jack’s bicolored eyes.  Allegedly “Indians” called such dogs “spirit dogs” and feared them, which accounted for the Ingalls not being attacked by the local Indians.  Um, no.  Also, the “Enya on the Prairie” music was horribly out of place.

I went online and hunted up some critiques of the miniseries.  It was a mixed bag, with some folks feeling it stuck more closely to the books than the original series and others feeling it had strayed too much.  Interesting.  There was pretty universal praise of the depiction of the Osage and universal condemnation of the new agey bits.  So, my reactions were not out of line.

There was also criticism of which bits of the Ingalls story the creators decided to focus on.  Some folks quibbled with the decision to leave Carrie out of the picture (she was born while the family was in Kansas territory).  Others felt the miniseries should have shown the later parts of the Ingalls’ lives, after they’d left Kansas territory and moved to Minnesota.  They didn’t like that the miniseries did not follow the same plot line as the original series.

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Laura Ingalls and Almanzo Wilder, circa 1885

Now for the interesting (to me, at least) part.  I next watched the original pilot.  I’d never seen it before, and assumed it would cover the family’s move to Plum Creek.  Nope.  It followed the exact same story line as the 2005 miniseries.  In fact, the majority of scenes in the new shows followed the old pilot almost identically.  The main differences between the two was the reason given for the family leaving Kansas territory and the depiction of the Indians.

In the pilot, the family were forced off their land because the government re-negotiated its treaty with the Indians, and the family were on the wrong side of the new boundary.  In the 2005 miniseries, the family were accused by settling the land illegally, without having filed a proper claim.  I don’t recall which is true; maybe neither is. I’m not sure it really matters much in terms of the telling of a successful story.  (And, that’s what the original books were.  They were stories, not strict autobiographies.)

The handling of the Indians differed between the two series, as well.  In the original pilot, they are treated as flat characters.  They’re just generic mid-70s teevee Indians. Caricatures.  In the 2005 miniseries, the Indians are more completely depicted.  They are families with children as well as a nation facing pressures and conflicts both within and without.

One thing that struck me anew while watching all the incarnations of the stories is the breadth and depth of the role pioneer women played.  They weren’t just meek and mild cooks and child tenders.  They helped build houses, plough fields, and harvest food.  And they did it in corsets and several heavy layers of clothing, even when the weather was blisteringly hot.  These women were no delicate flowers.  If they had been, their families would have never survived, much less flourished, under such harsh conditions.

So, anyway, now I’m working my way through the original series.  I’m about half-way through the first season, and it’s just as charming–and ham-fistedly cheesy–as I remember it being. It’s good, good stuff.

Charles Ingalls and Caroline Quiner
Charles Ingalls and Caroline Quiner

Caroline Quiner and Charles Ingalls
Caroline Quiner and Charles Ingalls

I included photos because I found them fascinating when contrasted against today’s popular representations.  Doesn’t Pa resemble Abe Lincoln in that last photo?

Crankypantsing

Just for Andy

Mayberry LSD

Andy mentioned Mayberry LSD, so I had to go on a scavenger hunt. I knew I had it tucked away somewhere, but I’ve moved approximately twelfty times since 1991, when it was published, so I had to do some digging.

In other news, the DVD burner installation went as well as could be hoped. It seems like, no matter how straightforward the process is, I end up screwing it up somehow. This time, I got the drive physically installed, and the case put back together, to find that I hadn’t set the jumper to Master. Duh. So I had to take the damned thing back out again, because the power unit is too close to the disc drives to get at and move the jumpers from inside the case. Hrmf. Then, I dropped the jumper and couldn’t find it, so I had to use the one from the b0rkened drive. On the bright side, software driver and installation, etc. went flawlessly. And, we have achieved burning. Woot!

The thing about installing hardware or software is that it’s dead boring when it goes well and aneurysm-inducing when it doesn’t. There doesn’t seem to be any middle ground. That’s why I hate it when people ask me to help them out with computer stuff. It’s not that it’s difficult, but when it does go bad, it goes very, very bad, indeed.

And now, an instant review: Breakfast on Pluto (based on the book by Pactrick McCabe)

Think Hedwig and the Angry Inch with a soupçon of In the Name of the Father and you’ll have a good feel for the tone and storyline. Glam Irish transwoman Kitten goes on a quest to find her mother and gets tangled up in all manner of weirdness, including Republican gun runners and a nightclub bombing. I do so adore Cillian Murphy. I fell in love with him in Disco Pigs, and have not been disappointed in anything he’s done since. Even Red Eye was damned entertaining. So, I unreservedly endorse Breakfast on Pluto.

Oh, and the soundtrack is most excellent!