Whatta Fiasco

Well, we survived yet another weekend out at renfest. It was too hot and too dusty but otherwise not bad at all. There was one inebriated gentleman toting around a two liter bottle of something alcoholic and slinging the most amazing line of bull. But I got my new bodice and it’s just wonderful. I’m very happy with it and may even get to see myself in it sometime soon. I also got plenty of new bruises from fencing saber, all on my weapon arm instead of on my off arm. I’ll chalk that up to progress.

This weekend also saw the unveiling of a new cup hilt rapier. Because the cup part was supplied by an athletic cup, this occasioned many snickers and one sweet zombie jesus. Dougal is one sick and twisted and much beloved man.
I do wish my knees were holding up to this work just a little better. I ended up doing the ice and ibuprofen routine again on Saturday night making Sunday a livable proposition. Then I skipped the ice on Sunday night, leaving me at less than full strength tonight. But I was still fencing.

Oh, and I did manage to minac in APA Centauri, getting dropped from the roster for going too long without sending in a zine. Much sadness, but life has been crazy and I’ve been running short of inspiration and finding insufficient follow through to complete the ones I’ve started. The good news is that I’m going to fix that soon. I still enjoy APA Centauri too much to call it quits.I just need to schedule my priorities a little better.

I also discovered a recipe for Happy Trashcan Chicken Broth. Take one serving of fat free chicken broth and simmer it with a handful of sliced, dried galangal root, and another of dried mushrooms. Strain out the galangal (and mushrooms if you use the kind I bought) then season with the juice of one small lemon and a spicy pinch of Thai pepper. It’s probably better with just half a lime’s worth of juice but I can never manage to use up the left over half lime nor bring myself to throw it away. So I have a zingy soup. For an extra bonus, if you squeeze the lime by hand, your hands will smell like fresh limes. Yum. And the left over, worn out pieces of galangal tossed in the trash will make your trashcan smell fresh and gingery. Yes, you can substitute fresh or dried (but not powdered) ginger, but I wanted to try the galangal and it turns out to have a pleasant taste all its own. Another good spice to add to my cabinet.

Looking for murder mystery fiction involving elves and humans and everything in between? Or maybe you’re just looking for an easy reading, entertaining, well-written novel. This woman is just flat good at what she does. Enjoy.

It’s not deco enough, it’s not pretty enough, and for all the strides CGI has made, we still seemingly can’t do cars that will fool the eye. And if Angelina Jolie had had another thirteen microseconds of screen time, she would would have stolen the entire film. I know this was a giant love fest in celebration of the cheesy scifi adventure movie, but would it really have hurt so much to make Frankie the female lead and push the ambitious blonde into a more secondary role? And was it really necessary to have a musicla score that sounded like a cheap Indiana Jones rip off just to underscore how much the plot was trying to be an Indiana Jones rip off?

That said, it was an enjoyable film. I’m not a huge Jude Law fan, but his character grew on me. And the supporting cast was well done. It was particularly good to see Michael Gambon, even if it was a minor part. And the flappy airships were spot on.

Classic old noir thriller sans blood and gore. Newspaper reporter arranges to get himself committed to a mental hospital in order to investigate the murder of a patient. Not many of the twists and turns will surprise you (you jaded modernist, you), and many of the depictions of the insane cross right over the line into camp, but it still works well as a film.

Last night I went to the Lyric’s production of Rossini’s Cinderella. Wow. I’ve heard good singing, seen great acting, and been impressed by choreography and sets there over the last three years, but I’ve never seen so many items peg so high at once. And it’s not that it’s a great opera, but taken as a whole that was one of the very best performances I’ve seen there. I popped out of my seat for a standing ovation before the lights even started up, and I wasn’t alone. It was a nearly full house and the place just erupted. That’s only the second s.o. I’ve participated in at that theater. This one was worth it.

Part of it was a local girl does good factor. Joyce DiDonato (as Angelina aka Cinderella) went to Europe and made her name in this role, and after hearing her sing it, I can understand why. Her voice is a rich caramel and she positively glows on stage. The step sisters played their comedy to the utmost. It took me a while to warm to Jeffrey Picon, the tenor. I don’t generally like the lovestruck heroes, but his on stage chemistry with Cinderella was as warm as could be wished. Dandini (Daniel Belcher) got nearly as much applause as Cinderella did, and Alidoro (Stephen Morschek) would have gotten as much if the role had been just a little more substantial.

There were only a few quibbles I had. First, there was a microphone on far stage left that created a most unfortunate echo effect for Cinderella early in the first act. And there was  a scene using green underlighting that was just an odd choice. Unrelated to the production itself, a chattering couple I recall with no fondness from a few productions ago was back in the front row, leaning over the railing during the production, whispering loudly, and pointing at things on the stage. I don’t care how much you’re paying for front orchestra seats; comport yourself in a manner that doesn’t interfere with other people enjoying the production. Just because the chorus is singing loudly, doesn’t mean you can talk freely. And when you wave your hand around in the air to point out some action on the stage, it blocks the view of the people right behind you. Just stop it. Please.

On the good side, while waiting outside before the performance, I ran into one of our younger fencers and her family getting ready to go in and see the show. I’m looking forward to hearing how she liked it. And two young women sat down next to me in the aisle and I got to overhear one of them excitedly explain to the other that she’d just talked to someone in management and she’d just been asked to audition the next day for a part in an upcoming Lyric performance. They were both vocal students. I also got to overhear their discussions of where the sweet spot was on that stage and just how small the house looked when you’re standing on the stage. And their opinions of the singing afterward meshed well with mine. (”A whole song celebrating rolled Rs!”) And the older couple sitting on the other side of me were favorably comparing the sheer joy and fun of the production with the stodgy performances at another regional opera company. A wonderful time was had by all and sundry.
In short, if you get the chance, do consider going. You’re going to love it.

Welcome to the second book in the trilogy, the first being Fifth Business, but this one also stands on its own. (And the trilogy is now available in a single volume if you’re in a purchase your own copy mode.) A successful defense lawyer goes to Zurich for Jungian analysis after the suspicious death of his father, but the only really important thing to know is that the book sucked me in from the beginning and didn’t let go. For comparison, the language is not quite as polished, but the effect is much like a Canadian Nabokov. Fine work.

[no cover]

I survived the project from hell, and so far it appears to be well received. As usual, implementing a major set of changes on a web site (no, I can’t tell you where it is or give you access if you happen to find it) results mostly in requests for even more changes. I can live with that. I may even survive the next round of changes, but I think I’m going to arrange a day of vacation before then, if at all possible.

I also survived the third weekend of renfest. Murphy stepped in to ensure that my new bodice wasn’t ready, but–as I informed the wonderful friend making it–it’s not something to sweat or fuss over. It’ll get done when it’s done, and when it’s done, it will be gorgeous. With a little luck and a good attitude, I may even live up to it. We had a pouring torrential rain wake us up Saturday morning, but all was clear, if a bit muddy underfoot, by the time things got underway. And even though we started the morning on Saturday with only three of us to do demos all day (deep breath time!) people began trickling in and all was well. The good folks from Emporia have stepped in and helped more than they may realize as several of our regulars have life issues making their contributions less regular. And all that on top of the wave of illness making its death march across the metro area. I’m still fighting the tail end of my own encounter with the creeping crud, but I’m doing fine.

Oh yes. And here is the long promised slug picture. Enjoy!

This is the second book in the Engines of Light series. It’s holding up reasonably well. I do wish he’d give a little more shrift and heft to his “alien” races, the saurs and the kraken. But the humans divide up into alien enough groups to serve the sfnal purpose. The politics comes back closer to the forefront again toward the end of the book, but first we get treated to an interesting bit of gender studies on the subject of socially constructed gender. The system isn’t entirely well thought out and consistent, but its inconsistencies ring true.

Gender in the presented society is a matter of personal choice. To declare onself a man requires a volitional an ceremonial act of violence. Failing to make such a declaration declares one to be a woman. But a male who has decided to be a woman can be reclassified as a man if he later engages in that particular form of violence, or if he choses to have sexual relations with another woman, regardless of his or her biological sex. But men, or either sex, can have sexual relations with anyone, regardless of gender, without endangering their declared gender.
Which is not to say that the book is about gender, because it quite emphatically isn’t. It’s really just a hook that sets the scene at the beginning. I’m looking forward to seeing is the next books fills in some more of the details of the politics he has going.

I don’t really have the time for this but I want to do a quick update to prove I’m still here. We survived the first weekend of renfest, and a good time was had by most all. Heat, humidity, one brief but torrential downpour, and a few bruises. Mother Pockets still makes great strawberry soup, and the gazpacho and berry soup were nearly as good.

I fenced both saber and rapier, which means I’m no officially a real fencer or something. I begin to understand the land of edge work. I gave some archery kids beginning saber lessons. I talked to dozens of people about the weapons we use and let them try holding them. I heard some good music, but not nearly enough. I also got Mrs. Maggie back to spinning on a drop spindle. And both my red skirt and my turtle hat went missing literally hours before fest started and have not been seen since. I found replacements for both that work just fine. I’m also still hoping to get my new bodice next weekend, or possibly the weekend after. It will be gorgeous either way.

Back in the real world I’m struggling with a hard deadline at work and specification changes that just keep on coming. I’ve got fifteen databases that need to be completely overhauled and tested by Tuesday of next week and pulling a long weekend of work is not an option. And just to keep things interesting, I came don sick yesterday afternoon. I can no more afford to take time off sick than I can afford to take the weekend off to work. Medication is my friend, and luckily the heavy brain lifting part of the job is mostly over. Now it’s the fiddly bits to get all lined up in a row. Medication isn’t so good for that either. (Concentration?) But I’ll make it work.

And now to get back to it. It could be another week before I get back here again. Go read some other stuff for awhile. Or go check your yard for creative spider webs. Live a little.

Hey, another Stephen Chow movie to see, right? Well, this is just one odd duck. It starts with classic James Bond style opening credits that set a clear and disturbing tone. The silhouettes of a man and woman dance until he deliberately tosses her off screen. She comes back to retaliate and he shoots her dead. It’s the sort of thing a feminist film studies class could have a field day with. There are funny moments in the film, but I could never make up my mind whether they were making fun of the genre or of the fans of the genre. Was this a poorly done, tasteless comedy? Or was I just lacking enough cultural context to appreciate it? If you’re a rabid 007 fan or a diehard Chow completist, consider this one. If you just saw Shaolin Soccer and are interested in seeing more of Stephen Chow’s work, track down God of Cookery instead.