Hello, readers. Despite certain melancholic implications, this blogger's heart still beats. My throat hurts less. As does my head. And things in general no longer sound like the ocean, except for sometimes the hospice room where my Dad currently resides. Oxygen machines remind me of scuba diving.
But on to more subjectical matters.
The Nebula Awards were announced a few days ago. Winners include Ursula K. Le Guin for her novel, Powers, John Kessel for his novelette, Pride and Prometheus, and also WALL-E, which is, as far as I'm concerned, the greatest sci-fi musical since Dr. Horrible.
Speaking of which, Joss Whedon won the Ray Bradbury award. Due to his being apparently lost in the woods, Jane Espenson accepted the award on his behalf. He sent in a video acceptance speech, though, in which he discusses The Future!, as well as his work and it's debt to Ray Bradbury. "Nobody made fi-sci more human," Whedon says. Watch and admire and laugh as the mood strikes you.
More silliness may be found in this picture by Erin Ptah, wherein a buxom pirate battles a well-endowed alien who appears to be preparing to give himself a shave. It's part of a free-online anthology of science fiction and fantasy stories and art called, Thoughtcrime Experiments.
Also, an article of mine, "Imagining the Perfect Man: Science Fiction and the Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin," has been published at Strange Horizons. It's quite silly, too. There's talk of apocalyptic balloon warfare, for example.
Happy Tuesday, readers.
ttfn.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Briefly...
Hello, readers.
It's the day after tomorrow. My world hasn't quite ended. Though I did have a fever of 101.4 or so last night. Feel better now. Except for during one particularly forceful sneeze I seemed to have clogged up my left ear. Half of everything sounds like the ocean now.
I went to a CVS minute clinic. The lady doctor was quite nice and chatted with me about Oxford's reputation for producing writers. "My children are very creative," she said. She also seemed hesitant to give me a strep test. "It'll make you gag," she said. "I'm so sorry."
Which was sweet, I thought, though, a little strange. Like a boxer apologizing for punching his opponent.
Other things I learned from CVS minute clinic lady:
1) Children are now taught not to cough in their hands but into their shoulders. More sanitary. Us people twenty and over have some catching up to do.
2) It's possible I have something called cryptic tonsils. This doesn't mean my tonsils hide some valuable treasure. Mostly it means they occasionally catch food and trick doctors into thinking they're infected.
3) Erm. Can't think of a third somewhat funny thing. Must be cause I'm sick.
I'm going to go lie down. Look at this and remember me fondly.
It's the day after tomorrow. My world hasn't quite ended. Though I did have a fever of 101.4 or so last night. Feel better now. Except for during one particularly forceful sneeze I seemed to have clogged up my left ear. Half of everything sounds like the ocean now.
I went to a CVS minute clinic. The lady doctor was quite nice and chatted with me about Oxford's reputation for producing writers. "My children are very creative," she said. She also seemed hesitant to give me a strep test. "It'll make you gag," she said. "I'm so sorry."
Which was sweet, I thought, though, a little strange. Like a boxer apologizing for punching his opponent.
Other things I learned from CVS minute clinic lady:
1) Children are now taught not to cough in their hands but into their shoulders. More sanitary. Us people twenty and over have some catching up to do.
2) It's possible I have something called cryptic tonsils. This doesn't mean my tonsils hide some valuable treasure. Mostly it means they occasionally catch food and trick doctors into thinking they're infected.
3) Erm. Can't think of a third somewhat funny thing. Must be cause I'm sick.
I'm going to go lie down. Look at this and remember me fondly.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
I should be asleep...
Earlier today, I felt sick. Luckily I couldn't be sick today and so wasn't. Unfortunately, it's tomorrow now.
This cheers me though. It's the cover for Interfictions 2. They're having an auction. It's the sort of auction they would have, too, in that it's an auction in which they will sell things made by people who are inspired by stories either from Interfictions 1, or from the as yet unpublished Interfictions 2. I'm not sure how you can be inspired by stories which aren't published, but I assume it has something to do with magic. Or the fact that you can read snippets of the stories here. If you see a snippet with my name on it, don't be alarmed. It's really me and I'm really feeling more and more excited and honored to be in any way related with this much wonderfulness. (Sometimes I'll say things like magnelephance, but sometimes not.)
And now I think I'll go to sleep.
Except I should note that Neil Patrick Harris caught on fire yesterday.
And also that I took my "comps" today, and that's why I couldn't be sick. Feels nice to be done. Now all I have to do is polish up my thesis and figure out what to do with the rest of my life. One thing at a time, though.
First things first, as they say.
Good night, readers.
This cheers me though. It's the cover for Interfictions 2. They're having an auction. It's the sort of auction they would have, too, in that it's an auction in which they will sell things made by people who are inspired by stories either from Interfictions 1, or from the as yet unpublished Interfictions 2. I'm not sure how you can be inspired by stories which aren't published, but I assume it has something to do with magic. Or the fact that you can read snippets of the stories here. If you see a snippet with my name on it, don't be alarmed. It's really me and I'm really feeling more and more excited and honored to be in any way related with this much wonderfulness. (Sometimes I'll say things like magnelephance, but sometimes not.)
And now I think I'll go to sleep.
Except I should note that Neil Patrick Harris caught on fire yesterday.
And also that I took my "comps" today, and that's why I couldn't be sick. Feels nice to be done. Now all I have to do is polish up my thesis and figure out what to do with the rest of my life. One thing at a time, though.
First things first, as they say.
Good night, readers.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Day Two/Exhibitions of Atrocity
Hello, readers. This is day two of my blogging my own personal blog. Already there are magnelephantly sad things to report.
J.G. Ballard, fellow lover of the apocalypse and inspiration to over-sexed stunt drivers everywhere, has died. There are many wonderful memoriams up and about on the interweb. The Guardian reports on his wide-ranging influence across movies, television, music, and architecture. The Telegraph tells a nice story about his life in which there is included Ballard's confession of "an indulgent over use of silver spray-paint in decorating his footwear." Neil Gaiman remembers him, as well.
In other exhibitions of atrocity news, Russell Crowe as Robin Hood looks remarkably like Russell Crowe dressed up as Robin Hood. Perhaps this was to be expected, but somehow I find it disappointing.
Finally, and on the topic of me, I've been re-reading many of my favorite books of late in preparation for my "comps," a test given to impending MFA graduates in order to assess their thoughts on the books which influenced them. It's a strange thing to re-read books that you haven't read for an extended period of time. They tend to change in a way that makes it obvious that you have changed. Re-reading Cather in the Rye, for instance, has made it obvious that I'm no longer a sixteen-year-old boy.
Happy Monday, readers.
ttfn.
J.G. Ballard, fellow lover of the apocalypse and inspiration to over-sexed stunt drivers everywhere, has died. There are many wonderful memoriams up and about on the interweb. The Guardian reports on his wide-ranging influence across movies, television, music, and architecture. The Telegraph tells a nice story about his life in which there is included Ballard's confession of "an indulgent over use of silver spray-paint in decorating his footwear." Neil Gaiman remembers him, as well.
In other exhibitions of atrocity news, Russell Crowe as Robin Hood looks remarkably like Russell Crowe dressed up as Robin Hood. Perhaps this was to be expected, but somehow I find it disappointing.
Finally, and on the topic of me, I've been re-reading many of my favorite books of late in preparation for my "comps," a test given to impending MFA graduates in order to assess their thoughts on the books which influenced them. It's a strange thing to re-read books that you haven't read for an extended period of time. They tend to change in a way that makes it obvious that you have changed. Re-reading Cather in the Rye, for instance, has made it obvious that I'm no longer a sixteen-year-old boy.
Happy Monday, readers.
ttfn.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Hello
The name of this blog comes from the play, Cyrano de Bergerac. It means to be as magnificent as an elephant. Or possibly as magnetic. In either case, this blog will be filled with magnelephant things. Some having to do with me, some having to do with things not me.
To see my blogging in a previous life, go here.
To see something inspirational, go here.
To see the future, close your eyes.
Maybe tomorrow I'll write about why this blog exists. But probably not.
ttfn, readers.
To see my blogging in a previous life, go here.
To see something inspirational, go here.
To see the future, close your eyes.
Maybe tomorrow I'll write about why this blog exists. But probably not.
ttfn, readers.
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