Mit luftpudefartøj er fyldt med ål

What are the ten first words you think of when you think of (my) Blaise Zabini?

Any other associations? Anything, stories, music, colours, activities, time of year, whatever seems relevant. If you like, give me one of yours, and I'll do the same.

ETA: actually, humour me and do this with one of your own characters on your own journal. I promise I'll respond to it.

( I'm not even going to say anything )

...except that I have made an error. I apologise deeply, and hope this doesn't forever tarnish my reputation and so on et cetera. Ladies and gentlemen, I was wrong. Chuck Bass is not a 3w4.

ETA: I've missed my calling in life. I would be a really good writer for a trashy tv show. Really good.

Everyone must watch THIS.

It is worth every single one of those 50 mins and more. Watch it, make everyone you know watch it, watch it all the way through to the end, and see if your vision of the world and of humanity hasn't altered at least a little. People keep looking at me doubtfully when I tell them there is a way to do it better. This could be the way.

Yes, I know it's thanksgiving. Why don't we start with doing - or even just thinking - something that deserves being thanked.

I am more than a little touched to be in the middle of what seems to be world history in the making. I am relieved, a touch ecstatic and more than anything else - hopeful. To the Americans I know; damn, you did well. You got it right. And because the world is weird and unbalanced, that means you got it right not just for you, but for all the rest of us as well. I got to get up this morning, check the news and think maybe the world will be an okay place for my children to grow up in after all. Thank you, thank you for that.

JENSEN ACKLES IS GOD

ETA: re: SPN. Oh, /dear/. Oh, Jensen, you slay me. Wow. half of that was hilarious. The other half was wrenching. How is that man so good. Just, ngh. ALSO, by now it has to be on purpose; am I the only one who's noticed that whenever something is really fucked up with Dean, it's always somehow about his heart, in various senses of that? Yeah, that just. It gets me every time.

blossomslut tagged me, and the prettiness of the procrastination was evidently too much to resist.

( sexy, okay )

Yeah, yeah, I have a type. I really do.

happy christmas. much love.

Co-written with the hot saucy blossomslut.
Warnings: angst. angst. angst. angst. capslocks.

VENOMOUS FRICTION, chapter 1

( don't cry )

I’m working towards being a professional in the communication and design business. This means I am kept up to date on the trends in the media world. One of these trends – the next huge one – is nicknamed Web 2.0. It’s already a tired term, but it basically applies to social media (such as, for example, Livejournal, MySpace, forums, etc etc.). Medias that allow people to interact with one another through it. Communicate, exchange ideas, share material, solve assignments and whatever else you can think of.

One of the big issues of this – from a commercial point of view - is that material on the internet is easy for anyone to take and do with as they wish. The music and movie industry are fighting a losing battle against piracy.
With the exception of bands like Radiohead, who published their latest album on the internet for free download. Basically, people could choose how much they wanted to pay for it, or chose not to pay anything at all and just take the music.
Guess what? It looks like they’ll be making more on this album than all their former ones.

The way much of our generation, and certainly the next one, use the internet calls for the user to become co-creator, rather than just consumer. Content (and by content we mean any material distributed on the net) has become available for the wide masses to play with, to share, to use as they want, rather than the way the original creators of the material intended. The idea of property is becoming fluid, and companies that sit too tightly and hysterically on their rights in that regard are regarded as backward and lacking in innovative potential. They’re being left way behind by the companies who, rather than taking issue with it, sees the potential and makes good use of it. The idea of viral marketing has sprung up out of this, and basically means that you pusblish materials which is so inspiring and cool that you make people want to play with it, share it, make it their own.

An example. Pepsi made this viral. They spent 25 million DKr on it – this is about 5 million dollars. To date, it’s been viewed a total of about 100.000 times. It doesn’t take a math genius to figure out that this is a tad expensive per viewing.
Some college boys in Japan then made this, a few days after the official Pepsi add has been seeded. The cost: nothing. Views to date: 500.000+.
Word on the street is, rather than getting hysterical and starting lawsuits, Pepsi sent the boys a year’s supply of soda.
Clever of Pepsi.

Now, apart from the delightful perspectives in this, the reason I bring it up is that I was accused of stealing icons. It’s quite possible that the icons in question were indeed made by this girl; for the purpose of the exercise, we assume they were. I don’t know, because I’m terrible about keeping track of where I find icons and pictures, I keep them in a pile, and once I get around to using them, I have no idea any longer.

Now, as should be obvious from the above, I think the idea of intellectual property in this context is more than questionable. I know for a fact that the photos most of us use to make icons are definitely not photos we’ve taken ourselves. The universes we play in are inspired by books we didn’t write. Some of the characters we play are invented by people other than us. The music we listen to while playing them is illegally downloaded. In effect, stolen. And we don’t question this. We’re used to this being the way things are done. We’re web 2.0 users. We assume we can just do this, we interact with the media, we make it our own. This is, of course, the reason I’m not particular about remembering to credit. I do it if I’m asked to or if I remember it, but in the media world I’m used to thinking about, it doesn’t truly matter.

With this in mind, the accusation of theft strikes me as ridiculous. And to avoid hypocrisy, I’d like to take the opportunity to give away any and all icons of my own making that anyone might want, both the ones on my own journal and any character journals. If anyone wants them, they can take them. No credit, no commenting, no notification is needed. It anything of mine is good enough to be inspiring, to make someone want to use it, please, go ahead. (though, given my laziness in regards to remembering which icons are mine, you risk an attack from the less tolerant. Most of them are mine, though. If you feel inspired, I encourage you to dare to take the risk).

And on another note; please keep your perspective. We’re not starving in Darfur.

Cationary Tales indeed. Good episode. Wow, did I think Noah had kicked it.

I have, with the amused tolerance of my resident 1, been typing the Heroes characters while watching the new season with avid interest.

( an exercise in typing )
And if anyone has brilliant suggestions on how to market Icelandic niche music to 13 year olds, please, I'm all ears.

Am being coached by a professional enneagram coach on thursday. I can't decide whether to be delighted or terrified.

ETA: Wow, I talk enneagram a lot.

>.< life. Just.



In other news, the Danish election can be summed up, as Peter my teacher eloquently did on his own blog, in one word: sucks. The new party whose goal it is to go against the horrible, horrible nationalist party, did not get half the votes they were supposed to get. Good democracy leaves noone happy, hm?

I seem to have conspired with misread_ to fabulate a five-generation Malfoy family plot with everything that one might expect of such a venture; secret cults, great visions, bastard children, murders, exotic locations, starcrossed love and so on (the house elf didn't do it). And of course, gorgeous people. If we're going to be cliché, we can at least do it beautifully.

A song; stranger things have happened. ♥

It occurs to me that I have yet to find an excuse to cast Jensen Ackles into the HP universe, which, knowing me, is a little disappointing.

The word of the day yesterday was:
mercurial \mur-KYUR-ee-uhl\, adjective:
4. Changeable in temperament or mood; temperamental; volatile.

___________

Stolen with love from the inimitable blossomslut.

( consider it a hunt for arbitrary aesthetics. )

… Yes, I do in fact major in Olympic Fish Jumping. We’re a rare and exclusive elite.

I do think it's more than a little insane to celebrate the fictional birthday of fictional characters, but you know, I rather adore Blaise, hissy little scorpio sexual four piece of my ego that he is. If I've done the math right (and I'm not sure I have) he's 27 today. On a more meta level, he's not quite two years old. He was played for the very first time on the 9th of january 2006 - that post is here, for nostalgia's sake.

If anyone or their character wants to say happy birthday in person, there are two posts over at playingatdusk. slanting_eyes has one here specific to him (he seems to be everyone's favourite version, amusingly. I guess it's like Coke. The original is the best). And the meta/realtime one for any other characters is here. If anyone is insane enough to, you know, want to talk to the character in person (not that I personally know any players who might be crazy enough for that <<) you're welcome to jump in there as well. If I was a braver person than I am, I'd take him into TDR for the occasion, but you know, my valour does know it's limits, and he'd hate it anyway.

Cheers, darlings new and old. ♥

My favourite teacher has a blog entitled Get Rid Of The Province. I absolutely adore my favourite teacher. Today, he promoted this clip of Stephen Colbert, whom I've heard mentioned, but never actually seen or really known what was about.

Well, now I have. America, elect this guy president. I am not kidding. My GOD, he's fucking amazing. I am speechless.

ETA: where can I watch this guys show? they don't have it on Danish channels and obviously Denmark doesn't have the american channels. Help me out, I need to.

I feel a response to the season premiere of Supernatural is called for.

( and let loose the hounds of war )

The city rises from the sand, pale and ragged like a heap of broken bones from some antediluvian creature. Beyond it, in the far distance, a reddish haze above the horizon tells of the beginning of the Dune Sea. Grim scowls ferociously and gives me a glance as if to say This is all your fault. I shrug wearily. In a sense, he’s right to blame me. To be certain, I’ve blamed myself often enough. Behind me, Tear coughs dryly and I know a moment of worry for her, but shrug it off, again. Her own choice to come here, and no fault of mine that the sands are harsh on her soft and Waterborn flesh. I lick my lips, tasting salt, bitter and dry, then heave myself to my feet once more. Tonight, we shall sleep within walls.


_ _ _


‘My story is a tragedy,’ he says, and looks up at her.
She stands poised and silent, and the expression that meets him is one of complete understanding without a shred of compassion.
‘That may be so,’ She allow gravely, ‘Or it may not. The choice was always your own’
‘Was it?’ The bitterness in his voice is sharp and undiluted. He thinks about the covenant broken and the children, her touch in snowcold darkness, a touchstone for the heart. ‘Sometimes I’m not so certain.’
She makes no answer, but reaches across the scarred grey table to pluck a cup lightly from his hand. Their fingers brush as she does so, and he closes his eyes, but she gives no sign that she has noticed. With a careless movement she takes the cup and flings it hard against the sandstrewn floor. It shatters with a crack like a gunshot and he stares in something like shock at the dark drops disappearing rapidly into the stone.
‘Waste.’ She says dryly.
In the corner, a girl with very red hair has startled awake at the sound. Now she watches the man and the woman with wide, pale eyes and does not make a sound.
He looks down again, and his left hand wanders unconsciously to the ornate sheath at his belt. The woman has gathered the flowing robes about her and draws a veil across her face to protect from the stinging wind outside. At a sign from her, the girl jumps nimbly to her feet and starts to gather her own cloak. The man watches them, his own matted red hair pushed back wearily from his face. Almost imperceptibly, change chases itself across his features and he sits up straighter on the bench. When he speaks again, the weariness has been replaced with quiet intensity.
‘I have loved you with all the passion of my soul. I would have you at my side always.’
She stands motionless for a moment, arrested in the movement fo leavetaking. Something balances in the silence. Then she releases a soft breath he did not see her holding and shakes her head slightly.
‘It is too late for that.’ A pause. He is peripherally aware of the little girl’s eyes on him, but dares not look at her, for so many reasons. ‘Perhaps you are right and it was always too late. Or I am right and we chose differently long ago.’
He nods, having no words. He wants to say he never wanted to believe in fate, the weary fighting in circles down through the ages. But it is, as she has said, much too late to say such things, and he knows too well that choices, once taken, echo down through forever.
She halts in the doorway and speaks his name – a last concession, the name she first knew him by, not the other that time and fate has forced upon him – softly, one last time.

_ _ _


(He looks up and meets her eyes across the room and realises just then that he has been in love with her, and that it is too late now. She looks hurt and determined and absolutely lovely. )

The casting call spectacle and following IM discussions on various characters has reminded me of the phenomenon of fictional crushes. I think everyone who hangs out in fandom is familiar with the idea; the character in a book or movie or even fanfic that you just love and want to know better (in the case of roleplayers, often want to play). I used to do this a lot when I was younger. It’s quite rare these days, but I must admit, it does happen. I'm sure there are more than these, but these were the ones most prominent in my memory, so I suppose they wanted to be told.

I’m exceedingly amused, reading through this list, at how many of these characters read unashamedly like Fours and/or Scorpios. So I have a type, so what.

( From childhood’s hour I have not been As other were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow, I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone And all I loved, I loved alone. )

What do you think when I say touched? Please elaborate.

It's late. Oh, indulgence.