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I haz a sad...
Anton Yelchin dies in freak accident...
Man, 2016 just isn't gonna stop hating us, is it?
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I haz a sad...
Anton Yelchin dies in freak accident...
Man, 2016 just isn't gonna stop hating us, is it?
.
Squee and giggles and giggles and squee!
Monday, May 30th, 2016 02:05 amTags:
- blood,
- death,
- ethan,
- fucking,
- hotness,
- i'll be in my bunk,
- penny dreadful,
- sex,
- squee,
- yum
Photofic - Bright
Friday, September 25th, 2015 02:26 pm.
Bright
You followed him halfway around the world, to this ancient, embattled place. An adventure, he said it would be. And it was, beautiful and sere and breathless and lethal, all at once. The afternoon before, you watched an incendiary bomb take out a brick building on the edge of town, dust flying. Women cried over broken little bodies. While this morning the sun rose like a slow volcano, the vast beauty of a desert dawn.
Now he paused at the sound so like thunder, and looked back at the hills behind you, his eyes suddenly serious, weighing. Then he looked at you, and his last words were sweet, as sweet as his smile: "Come on. The view from the wall is amazing!"
The sky was so bright that day.
.
Bright
You followed him halfway around the world, to this ancient, embattled place. An adventure, he said it would be. And it was, beautiful and sere and breathless and lethal, all at once. The afternoon before, you watched an incendiary bomb take out a brick building on the edge of town, dust flying. Women cried over broken little bodies. While this morning the sun rose like a slow volcano, the vast beauty of a desert dawn.
Now he paused at the sound so like thunder, and looked back at the hills behind you, his eyes suddenly serious, weighing. Then he looked at you, and his last words were sweet, as sweet as his smile: "Come on. The view from the wall is amazing!"
The sky was so bright that day.
.
And Its Cold Embrace
Tuesday, August 11th, 2015 11:50 pm.
I suppose it's time I post this here.
And Its Cold Embrace
by Serai
( There is a fire in Ethan's mind... )
I suppose it's time I post this here.
And Its Cold Embrace
by Serai
( There is a fire in Ethan's mind... )
Tags:
Ficlet: At the Diamond Throne
Saturday, March 22nd, 2014 02:17 pm.
Contemplating the death of Fred Phelps, I suddenly got this:
At the Diamond Throne
The Lord: So, Fred, you're back.
Phelps: Yes, sir.
The Lord: Let's see here...Hm, seems you did some good work.
Phelps: Well, sir, I tried. I'm afraid I didn't accomplish my mission, though.
The Lord: These things take time, Fred. Centuries of decay to clear away, you know. Your efforts were heroic. Don't think we haven't noticed. You did the best you could with what you had.
Phelps: Thank you, sir. It was difficult, though. Very painful. It was hard to see all that misery and not show compassion.
The Lord: We understand. Contrarian work is the hardest of all. That's why we choose tough old birds like you. We know you can take it.
Phelps: Thank you, sir. But I still feel I failed.
The Lord: You did NOT fail. Take a look here - homophobia is down all across the United States. Gay people are now accepted far more than they were before you arrived. Adoptions, marriage, both becoming legal, slowly but surely. Young people ever more accepting. These are good results. Like I said, it takes time.
Phelps: Yes, sir. That makes me feel better, sir.
The Lord: Now, for your next assignment...
Phelps: Oh, sir, please don't throw me back in again so soon. I was looking forward to a break, and...it's just hard hurting so many people. Can't I be kind this time?
The Lord: Don't complain, Fred. It's not worthy of an angel. You've a knack for pushing people's buttons and getting them to react, so that's what we need you to do.
Phelps: Yes, sir.
The Lord: Good lad. Now, report to the Lapis Throne. Krishna's having trouble over in India. They're going to need you there.
Phelps: Gay people again?
The Lord: Nope, untouchables. It'll be a lot tougher this time. You're going to have to get really creative. Do a good job for him and we'll see about a nice long vacation for you. By the way, did you bring me any chocolate?
Phelps: No, sir. I'm sorry, I forgot.
The Lord: Alright, run along then. Don't be so forgetful next time. Krishna expects you to bring him butter, and you know how testy he can be.
Phelps: Yes, sir.
It's all in how you look at things - Alec Bings, The Phantom Tollbooth
Contemplating the death of Fred Phelps, I suddenly got this:
At the Diamond Throne
The Lord: So, Fred, you're back.
Phelps: Yes, sir.
The Lord: Let's see here...Hm, seems you did some good work.
Phelps: Well, sir, I tried. I'm afraid I didn't accomplish my mission, though.
The Lord: These things take time, Fred. Centuries of decay to clear away, you know. Your efforts were heroic. Don't think we haven't noticed. You did the best you could with what you had.
Phelps: Thank you, sir. It was difficult, though. Very painful. It was hard to see all that misery and not show compassion.
The Lord: We understand. Contrarian work is the hardest of all. That's why we choose tough old birds like you. We know you can take it.
Phelps: Thank you, sir. But I still feel I failed.
The Lord: You did NOT fail. Take a look here - homophobia is down all across the United States. Gay people are now accepted far more than they were before you arrived. Adoptions, marriage, both becoming legal, slowly but surely. Young people ever more accepting. These are good results. Like I said, it takes time.
Phelps: Yes, sir. That makes me feel better, sir.
The Lord: Now, for your next assignment...
Phelps: Oh, sir, please don't throw me back in again so soon. I was looking forward to a break, and...it's just hard hurting so many people. Can't I be kind this time?
The Lord: Don't complain, Fred. It's not worthy of an angel. You've a knack for pushing people's buttons and getting them to react, so that's what we need you to do.
Phelps: Yes, sir.
The Lord: Good lad. Now, report to the Lapis Throne. Krishna's having trouble over in India. They're going to need you there.
Phelps: Gay people again?
The Lord: Nope, untouchables. It'll be a lot tougher this time. You're going to have to get really creative. Do a good job for him and we'll see about a nice long vacation for you. By the way, did you bring me any chocolate?
Phelps: No, sir. I'm sorry, I forgot.
The Lord: Alright, run along then. Don't be so forgetful next time. Krishna expects you to bring him butter, and you know how testy he can be.
Phelps: Yes, sir.
It's all in how you look at things - Alec Bings, The Phantom Tollbooth
A-S-S-H-O-L-E, Everybody!
Thursday, March 20th, 2014 10:23 am.
Fred Phelps dead at 84.
The monger of hate has finally kicked the bucket. Good riddance, I say. Some people the world is better without.
(Check out the tweet from his daughters about how "there's only heaven or nothing". Yeah, can't stand the idea that your daddy might actually have to pay for his sadism, can you?)
This one's for you, fucker:
The Hell of It - Paul Williams
While we're at it, let's have a chorus, shall we? Maestro Denis, strike up the band!
Asshole - Denis Leary
No, fuckface, you weren't a brave pioneering savior out to save the world from its self-imposed damnation.
You were JUST. AN. ASSHOLE.
(P.S. Today is also the International Day of Happiness. Irony, thou art my bitch.)
Fred Phelps dead at 84.
The monger of hate has finally kicked the bucket. Good riddance, I say. Some people the world is better without.
(Check out the tweet from his daughters about how "there's only heaven or nothing". Yeah, can't stand the idea that your daddy might actually have to pay for his sadism, can you?)
This one's for you, fucker:
The Hell of It - Paul Williams
While we're at it, let's have a chorus, shall we? Maestro Denis, strike up the band!
Asshole - Denis Leary
No, fuckface, you weren't a brave pioneering savior out to save the world from its self-imposed damnation.
You were JUST. AN. ASSHOLE.
(P.S. Today is also the International Day of Happiness. Irony, thou art my bitch.)
Just in case your Kleenex box needs a good workout...
Friday, March 7th, 2014 02:39 pm.
She was very old, our old dame,
Our cat, 17, Meiko was her name.
On Friday she was not herself at all.
She lay, her face turned to the wall
Silent and subdued
Saturday, she did not touch her food.
On Sunday she paced back and forth
Across the bedroom floor
And did not brush our leg or purr
Or make a sound. We petted her
And she seemed very far away.
We knelt by the bed where she lay
And felt desolate and sad
And told her, Good cat, good cat
And then this delicate creature
Of an affectionate nature
Had to be carried outside
And taken for a short melancholy ride
To the vet's office where with gentle affection
She was given the merciful injection
As we stroked her and said,
"Good cat. Good cat." And she lay down her head
On our lap
And took her nap.
We miss her gentleness and grace,
The little eyes, the solemn face,
The tail flicking where she lay
In a square of sun on a summer day.
It's childish, to feel such grief
For an animal whose life is brief.
And if it is foolish, so it be.
She was good company,
And we miss that gift
Of cat affection while she lived.
Her sweet civility.
A cat has not much utility
But beauty is beauty: that's
Why the Lord created cats.
We miss our cat of 17 years
And if you'll sit down by my side
I'll scratch you up behind your ears
Until you are well satisfied
And then bring you a plate of fish
And figs and dates fresh off the tree
Or any treat that you may wish,
In our old cat's sweet memory.
Lullaby little cat, wherever you're at
May you lie in the sun and be loved by someone
May you curl up and rest, with a quilt for a nest
May you run, may you leap, and be young in your sleep.
-- Garrison Keillor
She was very old, our old dame,
Our cat, 17, Meiko was her name.
On Friday she was not herself at all.
She lay, her face turned to the wall
Silent and subdued
Saturday, she did not touch her food.
On Sunday she paced back and forth
Across the bedroom floor
And did not brush our leg or purr
Or make a sound. We petted her
And she seemed very far away.
We knelt by the bed where she lay
And felt desolate and sad
And told her, Good cat, good cat
And then this delicate creature
Of an affectionate nature
Had to be carried outside
And taken for a short melancholy ride
To the vet's office where with gentle affection
She was given the merciful injection
As we stroked her and said,
"Good cat. Good cat." And she lay down her head
On our lap
And took her nap.
We miss her gentleness and grace,
The little eyes, the solemn face,
The tail flicking where she lay
In a square of sun on a summer day.
It's childish, to feel such grief
For an animal whose life is brief.
And if it is foolish, so it be.
She was good company,
And we miss that gift
Of cat affection while she lived.
Her sweet civility.
A cat has not much utility
But beauty is beauty: that's
Why the Lord created cats.
We miss our cat of 17 years
And if you'll sit down by my side
I'll scratch you up behind your ears
Until you are well satisfied
And then bring you a plate of fish
And figs and dates fresh off the tree
Or any treat that you may wish,
In our old cat's sweet memory.
Lullaby little cat, wherever you're at
May you lie in the sun and be loved by someone
May you curl up and rest, with a quilt for a nest
May you run, may you leap, and be young in your sleep.
-- Garrison Keillor
I shudder to think it could happen again
Sunday, August 26th, 2012 10:54 pm.
My Illegal Abortion
One woman's story of pre-Roe abortion, and her terrible fear that we're returning to that dark, deadly world.
Please read, and pass it on. I cannot express how important this is.
(I commented briefly with my story. It's on the first page of comments, if you're interested.)
My Illegal Abortion
One woman's story of pre-Roe abortion, and her terrible fear that we're returning to that dark, deadly world.
Please read, and pass it on. I cannot express how important this is.
(I commented briefly with my story. It's on the first page of comments, if you're interested.)
