November 25th, 2001


Oh, sheep... *laughing*

Well... this was a pleasant surprise [/sarcasm] to find in my inbox this morning. It was sent, I think, through one of my friend's Gundam Wing websites. I don't really even know who this person is. Just a random ranter, as far as I can tell. Evidently one who can't type, spell, or use correct grammar. Good for a laugh, and open mocking, if you like.

Theres something deeply wrong with people who write fanfict.

I'm not joking here Im not trying to make a point - I'm stating fact, not my opninion. Fanfic is a screwed up thing. It's just people who have nothing better to do and would rather sit in their basement fantasizing about crappy actors than go out and have social lives. Jesus. How can you think it's okay to have David duchovny and Gillian Andersen having sex when they obviously DON'T in real life? Or writing about COMIC BOOK characters like they're real people? They're COMIC, people. they're CARTOONS. Speaking of which, lets talk aout anime. Also cartoons. For KIDS. there's GIANT ROBOTS in them and aliens. And theres like, thirty year olds writing stories about thm? That's sick, people, just sick. Don't you have lives or something? The fact tht there's a whole website for it is even worse i don't know. it's bad enough that kids are stupid enough to watch/red this stuff but writing abou it is pretty pathetic.

Plus the peple who write it can't write. Your grammer is horrible and you can't spell, and you get whole groups of people telling you how great the story is and how wonderful a writer ou are. You people are pathetic. I hope you get sued for stealing these charaters that don't even belong to u. lots of companies are doing that now,and i wish them Luck.


Spelling, man, spelling!

You know, it's one thing to dislike fanfic on principle - in that case one would be expected to simply not read it. Or go anywhere near it if you can't control yourself enough to not flame wildly. You'll notice that he slammed people who don't spellcheck, type correctly or use proper grammar. Ironic, isn't it?

Even more ironic is that the person using the handle this was signed with used to *be* a fanfic writer - I think Sailor Moon or something. Not one who would have fallen under the category of "good", exactly. I'm still chuckling over the grammar and spelling. He mis-spelled "Anderson"... impressive, that... o.O

And by the way, *are* there any aliens in Gundam Wing? I don't remember any... *wanders off laughing*
  • Current Music
    Matchbox 20 - Bent

Rampaging Plot Bunny

This is a sort of companion-piece for an original series I've been working on for a while now, called Concrete Versus Empyreal. A fill-in-the-blanks sort of thing. Anyone interested in reading the other stuff in the series, email me.
It doesn't really have a title yet.

The sun went down, and she watched.

She was alone, and even though no one could see her, she sat back in the shadow of the roof, avoiding the lingering light. The stone overhang jutted out over her window, casting a shadow halfway across the room. Four floors up, she sighed, chin in hand, staring down at the last few people traversing campus on their way back from supper.

People streamed out of the dining hall just across the way as the last meal ended and students and faculty alike were rudely ushered outside. Moving in streams through the church pass-through, down the stairs onto lower campus where the trees on the hill overshadowed everything, further out to where the apartment-style residences shone their lights dolefully into the evening dim. They jostled one another in a friendly manner on their way to wherever they were going, splitting off into smaller groups, into ones and twos, then spreading out and disappearing indoors, one by one, or out of sight.

Something was out there. Something that, by all logic, should have been totally impossible within the boundaries of the peaceful University campus. Something that, defying all logic, was there anyway.

She could feel it.

She could feel that she was not alone, after all.

Something was watching her. Something big.

::So much for Movie Night,:: she thought, with a bitter, purely mental sigh, and slipped out of sight.


"What?" The voice on the other end of the line was shrill and obviously trying not to sound put out. It was failing.

Theryl sighed, holding the receiver slightly away from her mouth as she did so, to keep the girl on the other end from hearing it. "I'm sorry, Mel, but I've got to cancel. I've got a paper due Monday, and I haven't even started it yet."

"It's only Friday!" Melanie shrilled. "You've got all weekend, and besides, when did you start writing papers before the night before they're due?"

"When it's PoliSci, and I haven't even researched yet, is when," Theryl told her.

"But if you don't even come, there *is* no Movie Night! I can't grab the lounge on my own, and--"

"You've got Kim," Theryl pointed out.

She could almost see Melanie scowling on the other end of the line. "Kim's really annoying, and she only hangs around me so she can subtly yet sweetly point out why I'm a moral reprobate."

"You're being paranoid."

"No, I'm not. And when you're not there, she's like a thousand times worse. It's like you're the log wall between her and Alesia, and I'm Vercingetorix."

Theryl rolled her eyes, smiling. She and Melanie were Celtic Studies majors, and while Theryl found the subject matter deeply interesting, Mel was a great deal more attentive in class, possibly by nature. Possibly, Theryl often reflected, because of the other considerations in her life that Theryl had to deal with, ones that tended to supercede the importance of class. In any case, Mel was the only one of the two of them that regularly quoted Celt historical tidbits.

"She's not Julius Caesar, Mel. She's just a slightly overblown Catholic who really enjoys being right. You'll survive one night."

She heard Melanie expell a loud sigh. "Maybe I'll say I'm sick or something."

Theryl shrugged. "Whatever makes you happy, Mel."

"What would make me happy is if you showed up," Melanie said pointedly.

"Look, I'll make it up to you, I promise. Pizza, tomorrow, okay?"

There was a contemplative silence on the other end of the line, and then: "I don't believe you. Why are you really bailing on me?"

Theryl sighed, and this time let it be audible. "Seriously, Mel; I've got work to do. Really."

There was a frown in Melanie's voice as she finally capitulated. "All right. But... I'll expect that pizza. And no bailing again."

"Deal," Theryl agreed, and hung up with a little twinge of guilt.

It was swept quickly away, though, when she looked out the window and felt that same feeling of Something wash over her again.

Something was out there. And it was... waiting for her?

::This isn't bloody fair,:: she thought, picking up her coat on the way out the door.



  • Current Music
    dunno, but it's boppy...