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Essay: Pinkie Pie—Threat or Menace?
Posted 14 years agoI have to get this off my chest.
Before falling in love with Friendship Is Magic, I never read fan fiction. Ever. Now, however, I’ve read dozens of pony-fic stories, ranging from quite good to quite mediocre. There are, of course, many common tropes, a few of which irritate me immensely.
Perhaps the worst of these has to do with Pinkie Pie. In the episode “Party of One”, she undergoes an emotional breakdown, with typically comedic results overlaid on some (perhaps unintentionally) disturbing undertones. Many fan-fiction writers have interpreted this behavior as exposing a usually-hidden psychosis with homicidal or at least violent tendencies.
No. Just . . . no. For Celestia’s sake, no.
I suffer from moderate depression myself, and I’ve known, or known of, people whose symptoms much more closely match Pinkie’s. She is not psychotic.
She is bipolar.
Consider: she never offers, or even hints at, violence beyond passive-aggressively sitting on Rainbow Dash’s head and shouting at her friends angrily. Granted, it’s a children’s show, but the writers demonstrate throughout the first season that they’re willing to touch on somewhat more sensitive matters when it suits them, even if only indirectly. Violence, much less murderous violence, just isn’t in Pinkie’s established nature.
Most people are aware of the profound sadness and grief that are depression’s stereotypical symptom. Most people don’t seem to be aware that a sort of helpless anger is just as important, as is anhedonia—the absence of pleasure, even in things the sufferer normally enjoys. Those, in my mind at least, describe Pinkie’s rage and alienation to a T.
Like many, but not necessarily all, bipolar personalities, Pinkie seems to have a toggle switch to her condition. When she’s up, she genuinely and thoroughly is exactly what she seems—a veritable font of good cheer, joy, and laughter. But push her far enough and the switch flips.
The important thing is that the switch works both ways, and just as abruptly at that. She’s not haunted or angst-ridden or putting on a brave face. She may be a little insecure, but who isn’t? It’s nothing more and nothing less than a weakness that she bears with a little help from her friends. And isn’t that what the show is all about?
Oh, and another of the things that bother me? Horses and ponies don’t have fur, dammit! Go read my essay “Fashion Tales” to find out what they do have.
Before falling in love with Friendship Is Magic, I never read fan fiction. Ever. Now, however, I’ve read dozens of pony-fic stories, ranging from quite good to quite mediocre. There are, of course, many common tropes, a few of which irritate me immensely.
Perhaps the worst of these has to do with Pinkie Pie. In the episode “Party of One”, she undergoes an emotional breakdown, with typically comedic results overlaid on some (perhaps unintentionally) disturbing undertones. Many fan-fiction writers have interpreted this behavior as exposing a usually-hidden psychosis with homicidal or at least violent tendencies.
No. Just . . . no. For Celestia’s sake, no.
I suffer from moderate depression myself, and I’ve known, or known of, people whose symptoms much more closely match Pinkie’s. She is not psychotic.
She is bipolar.
Consider: she never offers, or even hints at, violence beyond passive-aggressively sitting on Rainbow Dash’s head and shouting at her friends angrily. Granted, it’s a children’s show, but the writers demonstrate throughout the first season that they’re willing to touch on somewhat more sensitive matters when it suits them, even if only indirectly. Violence, much less murderous violence, just isn’t in Pinkie’s established nature.
Most people are aware of the profound sadness and grief that are depression’s stereotypical symptom. Most people don’t seem to be aware that a sort of helpless anger is just as important, as is anhedonia—the absence of pleasure, even in things the sufferer normally enjoys. Those, in my mind at least, describe Pinkie’s rage and alienation to a T.
Like many, but not necessarily all, bipolar personalities, Pinkie seems to have a toggle switch to her condition. When she’s up, she genuinely and thoroughly is exactly what she seems—a veritable font of good cheer, joy, and laughter. But push her far enough and the switch flips.
The important thing is that the switch works both ways, and just as abruptly at that. She’s not haunted or angst-ridden or putting on a brave face. She may be a little insecure, but who isn’t? It’s nothing more and nothing less than a weakness that she bears with a little help from her friends. And isn’t that what the show is all about?
Oh, and another of the things that bother me? Horses and ponies don’t have fur, dammit! Go read my essay “Fashion Tales” to find out what they do have.
Personal: Removed by Order of the Authorities
Posted 14 years agoYeah. Today three of my most popular submissions disappeared without so much as a by-your-leave. No warning, no polite request to rectify the situation on my own before the final resort of yanking them using administrator access. Instead, I was informed after the fact by note.
I appreciate that the administration feels the images technically violated site policies. However, I disagree: I feel at least one or two of them had been sufficiently transformative to get around the prohibition. But the option to appeal the verdict is unavailable because of this preemptive nuclear strike. (Also: all sorts of trademark-violating fan art and all manner of digital art using various tools and aids is permitted, but not art using generator software or art resembling motivational posters; am I the only one who sees an irony in that?)
Suddenly I am very glad I just opened a Deviantart account. The three images still are posted there, for anyone who’s curious.
• “Pony Conformation Chart”
• “20% Cooler”
• “Gecko Hooves”
If I had gotten a warning, I would have removed the images, substituted a ink-stamped-look “Removed by order of the authorites”, and provided links to the Deviantart gallery, because there is at least one source, Equestria Daily, that linked to the gallery entries—and now those links are dead. Can’t even do that, but then I imagine a bit of satire at the expense of said authorities might not be countenanced either.
I appreciate that the administration feels the images technically violated site policies. However, I disagree: I feel at least one or two of them had been sufficiently transformative to get around the prohibition. But the option to appeal the verdict is unavailable because of this preemptive nuclear strike. (Also: all sorts of trademark-violating fan art and all manner of digital art using various tools and aids is permitted, but not art using generator software or art resembling motivational posters; am I the only one who sees an irony in that?)
Suddenly I am very glad I just opened a Deviantart account. The three images still are posted there, for anyone who’s curious.
• “Pony Conformation Chart”
• “20% Cooler”
• “Gecko Hooves”
If I had gotten a warning, I would have removed the images, substituted a ink-stamped-look “Removed by order of the authorites”, and provided links to the Deviantart gallery, because there is at least one source, Equestria Daily, that linked to the gallery entries—and now those links are dead. Can’t even do that, but then I imagine a bit of satire at the expense of said authorities might not be countenanced either.
Personal: Dear Princess Celestia—Today I Learned . . .
Posted 14 years agoNormally I try not to vent here on Fur Affinity; there is all too much of that on the site as it is. Today, however, occurred a positively Æsopian tale I feel compelled to share.
For quite a long time I have hung out on a private MU*, chatting and occasionally participating in light role-playing over the course of a typical day. In recent years I’ve done so less and less as the population of the MU* has changed, and the events of this morning are another step on that road.
A few weeks ago, out of a sense of whimsy, I changed the species setting and description of my character, noting that she had “succumbed to pony fever” and become a pegasus pony with the same color scheme the character normally has. This has occasioned some amusing byplay—along with some slight grumbling from a few quarters. In the last week or two, several other characters have undergone similar transformations as their players have fallen under the spell of Friendship Is Magic. Moreover, conversation about the series and related topics have become somewhat more frequent, albeit hardly continual.
This morning on the MU* in question, two steadfast and vocal holdouts against the pony phenomenon exploded messily with a good deal of verbal arm-flailing. They complained vociferously and at length about how much time and attention were being devoted to the subject, not only on the MU* but on the Web in general. Within minutes I logged out to forestall an incipient headache and tooth-gritting anger, not about the tantrum per se but about what I consider its rank injustice.
A few years ago—I don’t recall exactly how many—for a period of several months, the MU* was utterly dominated by World of Warcraft, something in which I have less than no interest. Sometimes for hours on end the MU* client window scrolled continuously with big chunky paragraphs, effectively squeezing out all other topics. At the same time, and even to the present, the Web presence of WOW dwarfs FIM. At least one of the instigators of today’s meltdown was a major participant in this all-WOW-all-the-time phase, and I believe the other was as well, although I don’t remember as clearly in that case. (In addition, two roommates at the time were playing the game incessantly; I literally could not escape it.)
Yet in the interests of amity and diplomacy I held my tongue on the MU*—perhaps not perfectly, but with a conscious, concerted effort not to rain on other people’s parade. I feel I have been very poorly paid back for that restraint. What have I learned from this affair? That it’s okay to beat a dead horse, as long as it’s someone else’s—but mine are off-limits.
For quite a long time I have hung out on a private MU*, chatting and occasionally participating in light role-playing over the course of a typical day. In recent years I’ve done so less and less as the population of the MU* has changed, and the events of this morning are another step on that road.
A few weeks ago, out of a sense of whimsy, I changed the species setting and description of my character, noting that she had “succumbed to pony fever” and become a pegasus pony with the same color scheme the character normally has. This has occasioned some amusing byplay—along with some slight grumbling from a few quarters. In the last week or two, several other characters have undergone similar transformations as their players have fallen under the spell of Friendship Is Magic. Moreover, conversation about the series and related topics have become somewhat more frequent, albeit hardly continual.
This morning on the MU* in question, two steadfast and vocal holdouts against the pony phenomenon exploded messily with a good deal of verbal arm-flailing. They complained vociferously and at length about how much time and attention were being devoted to the subject, not only on the MU* but on the Web in general. Within minutes I logged out to forestall an incipient headache and tooth-gritting anger, not about the tantrum per se but about what I consider its rank injustice.
A few years ago—I don’t recall exactly how many—for a period of several months, the MU* was utterly dominated by World of Warcraft, something in which I have less than no interest. Sometimes for hours on end the MU* client window scrolled continuously with big chunky paragraphs, effectively squeezing out all other topics. At the same time, and even to the present, the Web presence of WOW dwarfs FIM. At least one of the instigators of today’s meltdown was a major participant in this all-WOW-all-the-time phase, and I believe the other was as well, although I don’t remember as clearly in that case. (In addition, two roommates at the time were playing the game incessantly; I literally could not escape it.)
Yet in the interests of amity and diplomacy I held my tongue on the MU*—perhaps not perfectly, but with a conscious, concerted effort not to rain on other people’s parade. I feel I have been very poorly paid back for that restraint. What have I learned from this affair? That it’s okay to beat a dead horse, as long as it’s someone else’s—but mine are off-limits.
Essay: Trademark and Copyright Law as Blunt Instrument
Posted 14 years agoThrough John Gruber I discovered the horrific miscarriage of justice to which Andy Baio recently was subjected, and discussed it with roommate 
baroncoon. I’m a freelance graphic designer (and production artist) and Baron is not only an artist but a supervisor at an art-supply store with a custom-framing business. (Another roommate, 
smudge, is an artist, comic writer-artist, and animator.) Some reflections based on firsthand experience with and observation of artists and photographers over the years fell out of the discussion that might be of interest.
Photographers seem to inhabit their own subculture, somewhat aloof from the mingling common to other art communities. This goes right back to the earliest days of photography, when “real” artists sneered at its practitioners, loudly gainsaying the efforts of the latter to achieve respectability as fellow artists. The consequences of that rancor persist even today, albeit much muted and transformed.
Photographers as a community also tend to be much more commercially oriented than other types of artists. As an instructor at Cal Arts (the California Institute for the Arts) used to say, in reference to the label “commercial art”, “big C, little a”—as opposed to the “little c, big A” of fine artists.
Photographers, probably as a result of the above factors, also seem to be much more sensitive about their work and much more prone to litigation over it. In our recollection, most of the egregious lawsuits over fair use and derived works have originated with photographers. One major recent example is the brouhaha over the Obama “Hope” poster, although the targeted artist did not help his own case. Another gravely worrying example is the way the Associated Press is attempting to exert draconian control over use of its photos.
The chilling effect mentioned by Mr. Baio has all sorts of implications. For example, one of the primary means by which many visual artists collect and use reference material is existing photographs. Even if one doesn’t use any, it’s possible that a work, by sheer coincidence, just happens to resemble a photo—of which the artist might be totally unaware!—sufficiently that the photographer might feel he or she has a case. How about image-recognition and -analysis software arising in the next few decades that can process a scanned image of artwork and tease out which segment was based on what photo? It’s not a new concern, and it’s one that makes a lot of artists very nervous.
We can hope that, eventually, the doctrine of fair use is clarified and the thicket of contradictory precedents is pruned back to a coherent and consistent policy. In the mean time, though I can’t offer more than an expression of sympathy and support to Mr. Baio, he has that much, for what it’s worth. In fact, this missive started as an e-mail message to him, and was edited and posted at his suggestion; he noted that the only real support for the photographer who sued him seems to have come from . . . other photographers.
There is one thing a reader can do, though, and that’s to show support for Mr. Baio by purchasing a copy of the work, Kind of Bloop, that precipitated the whole travesty. It’s a tribute to the classic jazz album, Kind of Blue, rendering the music via old eight-bit chipsets.
baroncoon. I’m a freelance graphic designer (and production artist) and Baron is not only an artist but a supervisor at an art-supply store with a custom-framing business. (Another roommate, 
smudge, is an artist, comic writer-artist, and animator.) Some reflections based on firsthand experience with and observation of artists and photographers over the years fell out of the discussion that might be of interest.Photographers seem to inhabit their own subculture, somewhat aloof from the mingling common to other art communities. This goes right back to the earliest days of photography, when “real” artists sneered at its practitioners, loudly gainsaying the efforts of the latter to achieve respectability as fellow artists. The consequences of that rancor persist even today, albeit much muted and transformed.
Photographers as a community also tend to be much more commercially oriented than other types of artists. As an instructor at Cal Arts (the California Institute for the Arts) used to say, in reference to the label “commercial art”, “big C, little a”—as opposed to the “little c, big A” of fine artists.
Photographers, probably as a result of the above factors, also seem to be much more sensitive about their work and much more prone to litigation over it. In our recollection, most of the egregious lawsuits over fair use and derived works have originated with photographers. One major recent example is the brouhaha over the Obama “Hope” poster, although the targeted artist did not help his own case. Another gravely worrying example is the way the Associated Press is attempting to exert draconian control over use of its photos.
The chilling effect mentioned by Mr. Baio has all sorts of implications. For example, one of the primary means by which many visual artists collect and use reference material is existing photographs. Even if one doesn’t use any, it’s possible that a work, by sheer coincidence, just happens to resemble a photo—of which the artist might be totally unaware!—sufficiently that the photographer might feel he or she has a case. How about image-recognition and -analysis software arising in the next few decades that can process a scanned image of artwork and tease out which segment was based on what photo? It’s not a new concern, and it’s one that makes a lot of artists very nervous.
We can hope that, eventually, the doctrine of fair use is clarified and the thicket of contradictory precedents is pruned back to a coherent and consistent policy. In the mean time, though I can’t offer more than an expression of sympathy and support to Mr. Baio, he has that much, for what it’s worth. In fact, this missive started as an e-mail message to him, and was edited and posted at his suggestion; he noted that the only real support for the photographer who sued him seems to have come from . . . other photographers.
There is one thing a reader can do, though, and that’s to show support for Mr. Baio by purchasing a copy of the work, Kind of Bloop, that precipitated the whole travesty. It’s a tribute to the classic jazz album, Kind of Blue, rendering the music via old eight-bit chipsets.
Personal/Writing: I for one welcome our new pony overlords
Posted 14 years agoYes, I too have succumbed to the siren song of the ponies.
Normally I’m not one to follow either popular fads or that sort of mercantile or “girl-oriented” franchise. This is particularly true for the My Little Pony franchise: When it arose in the early 1980s, I was in my early twenties. Not only was I absolutely the wrong demographic target, but the state of toymaking and of children’s animation at that time was . . . dismal. At best. The pony designs were shapeless and unattractive, the writing and art were insultingly bad, and the marketing was laser-precisely aimed in the opposite direction from a young adult male, even an atypical example like me.
Over the following couple of decades, I remained dimly aware of its continued existence. Occasional glimpses, generally accidental, seemed to support the view that, fundamentally, little or nothing changed about the franchise. The designs remained regrettable, the background and storytelling remained painful, the focus on little and not-so-little girls remained tight.
Then, some months ago, distant rumbles heralded the arrival of something new and, apparently, profoundly different. I was pleased in a distant sort of way that someone was trying to improve the sad state of affairs with decent writing and animation. More power to them! It didn’t seem to have much bearing on me, though.
To make a long story short, eventually it became nearly impossible to turn around without bumping into Friendship Is Magic one way or another. A couple of friends who actually watched the pilot episodes spoke well of them, and one (who’s on Fur Affinity, but I shan’t identify him; he knows who he is) actually subjected a captive audience to it.
And now I’ve watched the entire first season.
The character designs are delightfully appealing—sprightly and oddly graceful—in stark contrast to their lumpy, potato-like predecessors. The animation is clean, sharp, and kinetic, with a sly and witty sense of timing. The writing, while not amazing or complex, is acceptable even for adult watchers, though it can range from questionable to quite good, depending on the episode or the scene.
I think, though, part of what makes the program so attractive to an astonishingly wide audience is the world-building. Certainly it is nowhere near perfect and lacks thorough self-consistency, but a clear effort has been made to create a world with at least a slight bit of depth. In television and especially children’s television, that counts for a lot. There is an old Russian proverb: The wonder of the dancing bear is not how well he dances, but that he dances at all.
The other element that in my opinion gives the show its broad appeal is the portrayal of the primary cast, with fair fidelity and constancy, as older teens themselves. In a traditional (pre-industrial) society, teens are expected to make their way as junior adults, and indeed we see most of the major characters earning their keep in one way or another—family farmer, freelance clothing designer, bakery employee, public service—or (presumably) on a university-level student’s royal stipend.
These factors give the writers wide latitude, as indeed Lauren Faust intended; she did not want to make her characters children, which would have limited the scope of storytelling to school, family, and parental concerns. Instead, by placing the major characters loosely in the twelve-to-eighteen range, she gets the best of both worlds. They are young enough to be understandable and appealing to older children, but old enough to have the adult freedoms and concerns that make them accessible to those children’s parents and their contemporaries, even to someone like me, in (ahem) late middle age.
That the program’s creator and crew understand the breadth of their audience and are open to it is wonderfully generous and forthcoming. If there is the occasional cranky reaction, well, everyone is human and the sort of bad behavior found all too frequently on the Web is enough to try the patience of a saint.
It’s another question whether the executives have a clue, of course, and what little evidence that seems to exist is inconsistent. That’s not an academic consideration, because if Hasbro ever twigged to it, they would realize they have a gold mine far beyond the traditional girls’ toys. Figurines or statuettes, anyone? How about ceramic versions of buildings shown in the program? (The Carousel Boutique immediately comes to mind.)
How about boys’ toys as well as girls’ toys? There are enough male characters, even if only in secondary roles, to fill out a line, along with accessories such as the snow-rollers, plows, armor, and carriages seen in various episodes. With skillful cross-marketing, some of those girls’ toys might even be made to appeal to boys as well. Rainbow Dash and Applejack would be naturals there.
Heck, I would find it amusing to perch a Rainbow Dash or Applejack figure on the instrument panel of my Miata—a molded one, of course, as that would be easier to stick in place with earthquake putty.
Normally I’m not one to follow either popular fads or that sort of mercantile or “girl-oriented” franchise. This is particularly true for the My Little Pony franchise: When it arose in the early 1980s, I was in my early twenties. Not only was I absolutely the wrong demographic target, but the state of toymaking and of children’s animation at that time was . . . dismal. At best. The pony designs were shapeless and unattractive, the writing and art were insultingly bad, and the marketing was laser-precisely aimed in the opposite direction from a young adult male, even an atypical example like me.
Over the following couple of decades, I remained dimly aware of its continued existence. Occasional glimpses, generally accidental, seemed to support the view that, fundamentally, little or nothing changed about the franchise. The designs remained regrettable, the background and storytelling remained painful, the focus on little and not-so-little girls remained tight.
Then, some months ago, distant rumbles heralded the arrival of something new and, apparently, profoundly different. I was pleased in a distant sort of way that someone was trying to improve the sad state of affairs with decent writing and animation. More power to them! It didn’t seem to have much bearing on me, though.
To make a long story short, eventually it became nearly impossible to turn around without bumping into Friendship Is Magic one way or another. A couple of friends who actually watched the pilot episodes spoke well of them, and one (who’s on Fur Affinity, but I shan’t identify him; he knows who he is) actually subjected a captive audience to it.
And now I’ve watched the entire first season.
The character designs are delightfully appealing—sprightly and oddly graceful—in stark contrast to their lumpy, potato-like predecessors. The animation is clean, sharp, and kinetic, with a sly and witty sense of timing. The writing, while not amazing or complex, is acceptable even for adult watchers, though it can range from questionable to quite good, depending on the episode or the scene.
I think, though, part of what makes the program so attractive to an astonishingly wide audience is the world-building. Certainly it is nowhere near perfect and lacks thorough self-consistency, but a clear effort has been made to create a world with at least a slight bit of depth. In television and especially children’s television, that counts for a lot. There is an old Russian proverb: The wonder of the dancing bear is not how well he dances, but that he dances at all.
The other element that in my opinion gives the show its broad appeal is the portrayal of the primary cast, with fair fidelity and constancy, as older teens themselves. In a traditional (pre-industrial) society, teens are expected to make their way as junior adults, and indeed we see most of the major characters earning their keep in one way or another—family farmer, freelance clothing designer, bakery employee, public service—or (presumably) on a university-level student’s royal stipend.
These factors give the writers wide latitude, as indeed Lauren Faust intended; she did not want to make her characters children, which would have limited the scope of storytelling to school, family, and parental concerns. Instead, by placing the major characters loosely in the twelve-to-eighteen range, she gets the best of both worlds. They are young enough to be understandable and appealing to older children, but old enough to have the adult freedoms and concerns that make them accessible to those children’s parents and their contemporaries, even to someone like me, in (ahem) late middle age.
That the program’s creator and crew understand the breadth of their audience and are open to it is wonderfully generous and forthcoming. If there is the occasional cranky reaction, well, everyone is human and the sort of bad behavior found all too frequently on the Web is enough to try the patience of a saint.
It’s another question whether the executives have a clue, of course, and what little evidence that seems to exist is inconsistent. That’s not an academic consideration, because if Hasbro ever twigged to it, they would realize they have a gold mine far beyond the traditional girls’ toys. Figurines or statuettes, anyone? How about ceramic versions of buildings shown in the program? (The Carousel Boutique immediately comes to mind.)
How about boys’ toys as well as girls’ toys? There are enough male characters, even if only in secondary roles, to fill out a line, along with accessories such as the snow-rollers, plows, armor, and carriages seen in various episodes. With skillful cross-marketing, some of those girls’ toys might even be made to appeal to boys as well. Rainbow Dash and Applejack would be naturals there.
Heck, I would find it amusing to perch a Rainbow Dash or Applejack figure on the instrument panel of my Miata—a molded one, of course, as that would be easier to stick in place with earthquake putty.
Personal: Another Sunset
Posted 14 years agoMinutes ago I received a phone call from my mother, a vanishingly rare event. (Normally I do the calling, once a month or so on a Sunday, to stay in touch with family.)
My last remaining grandparent, whom as a child I had nicknamed Gogo—which has stuck to this day—because he was always on his way out the door to go somewhere, has been diagnosed with cancer in both lungs. The prognosis is that he has days, perhaps weeks, but certainly not months. He seems to be ready; apparently he has commented about seeing his wife, my paternal grandmother, soon.
The family is handling the news, and the necessary affairs, as well as can be expected. There is grief, of course, but not shock: The man is, if I recall correctly, in his nineties, which is remarkable, but there always has been that tacit awareness of approaching mortality in everyone’s minds.
Lieutenant Colonel Donald Daniel Bryant, United States Air Force, Retired, has led an extraordinary life. He participated in the Berlin Airlift as a transport pilot, flying supplies into a city blockaded by Cold War politics. During the war immediately preceding that astonishing display of nearly-forgotten American might and will, he was a fighter pilot in the Fourteenth Air Force, the United States Army Air Forces unit that inherited the “Flying Tigers” moniker from its predecessor, the First American Volunteer Group.
Alas, despite his children’s exhortations, he has never written memoirs or consented to interviews, claiming “nobody would be interested” in his stories. I recall my father, Donald Junior, noting with frustration that just a few years ago his father told an anecdote none of them had heard before, a fascinating and suspenseful narrative about the trials and tribulations of deploying halfway around the world in a balky and troublesome single-seat single-engine fighter. My personal theory is that the elder Donald simply may have had little interest in rehashing a possibly traumatic past, or may have felt he had little to say to those disinterested younger generations.
Still, he participated in creating one of the finest legacies any American generation has bequeathed its nation and its people. He is very much a product of his own generation, exemplifying both its awe-inspiring virtues and its idiosyncratic rough edges. He is an upstanding, outstanding man, and we will be diminished in ways we do not even understand upon his passing.
Godspeed, Grandpa Gogo. Someone should fly the Missing Man for you.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew—
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
My last remaining grandparent, whom as a child I had nicknamed Gogo—which has stuck to this day—because he was always on his way out the door to go somewhere, has been diagnosed with cancer in both lungs. The prognosis is that he has days, perhaps weeks, but certainly not months. He seems to be ready; apparently he has commented about seeing his wife, my paternal grandmother, soon.
The family is handling the news, and the necessary affairs, as well as can be expected. There is grief, of course, but not shock: The man is, if I recall correctly, in his nineties, which is remarkable, but there always has been that tacit awareness of approaching mortality in everyone’s minds.
Lieutenant Colonel Donald Daniel Bryant, United States Air Force, Retired, has led an extraordinary life. He participated in the Berlin Airlift as a transport pilot, flying supplies into a city blockaded by Cold War politics. During the war immediately preceding that astonishing display of nearly-forgotten American might and will, he was a fighter pilot in the Fourteenth Air Force, the United States Army Air Forces unit that inherited the “Flying Tigers” moniker from its predecessor, the First American Volunteer Group.
Alas, despite his children’s exhortations, he has never written memoirs or consented to interviews, claiming “nobody would be interested” in his stories. I recall my father, Donald Junior, noting with frustration that just a few years ago his father told an anecdote none of them had heard before, a fascinating and suspenseful narrative about the trials and tribulations of deploying halfway around the world in a balky and troublesome single-seat single-engine fighter. My personal theory is that the elder Donald simply may have had little interest in rehashing a possibly traumatic past, or may have felt he had little to say to those disinterested younger generations.
Still, he participated in creating one of the finest legacies any American generation has bequeathed its nation and its people. He is very much a product of his own generation, exemplifying both its awe-inspiring virtues and its idiosyncratic rough edges. He is an upstanding, outstanding man, and we will be diminished in ways we do not even understand upon his passing.
Godspeed, Grandpa Gogo. Someone should fly the Missing Man for you.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew—
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
—“High Flight”, final stanza, by John Gillespie Magee, Jr. (1941)Writing: First Draft Finished—Editing Needed!
Posted 14 years agoA complete set of chapters for Anasazi’s Rubicon now is posted on the project Web site. The next step is to get it proofread and edited. That’s where all you folks are indispensible. Anyone interested in helping on this very necessary task is invited to let me know. In particular, volunteers are urged to join the Anasazi’s List mailing list.
“So,” you might say, “what should I be looking for?” I’m glad you asked!
Spelling, punctuation, and grammar: the nuts and bolts of the language
Narrative flow: the story should read and progress smoothly, without snagging on the reader’s immersion or suspension of disbelief
Continuity and consistency: errors of fact and internal contradictions need to be eliminated
Style and vocabulary: writing tics and repetitious use of words are personal pet peeves, and I’d like to avoid them in my own writing
Therianthropism: as this is slice-of-life fiction set in an analog of the contemporary world, there’s a limit to how “furry” the story can be, but any means of improving this element would be welcome
Description, sensory impressions, and proliferation of pronouns: These three things in particular I would like to shore up where possible—giving the reader a better mental picture of places and events, trying to follow more closely the rule of thumb that major scenes should appeal to at least three senses, and improving consistency in use of character pointers (not just pronouns but alternatives such as “man”, “woman”, “boy”, “girl”, species, and so on, appropriate to context)
How to go about it? My own suggestions follow, and I’m sure there are other pointers out there people can dig up. (I already have received a couple of proposed edits, but wanted to wait until this stage before implementing them.)
1. Download all the chapters. They’re PDF files, so reading them shouldn’t be a problem. If it is, let me know, and we’ll work out a method.
2. Read through them. If necessary, do so repeatedly, either multiple times at a sitting, with pauses between to view with fresh eyes, or both. Perhaps read for different things each time, such as proofreading on one pass and continuity on another. If the story beguiles you away from your task, read the story first until familiar with it before attempting to edit.
3. Make notes as needed, either while reading or afterward, as annotations within the PDF files themselves (if your software has that capability) or as separate text files.
4. If desired, write up a more formal or polished report or compendium. As much as possible, please offer ideas for fixing problems as well as pointing them out.
5. Send off the annotated PDF files or notes to me directly by e-mail. For discussion on the mailing list, it probably is better to restrict a message to a single point or topic. Otherwise, things can get confused very quickly. That said, I strongly encourage discussion and brainstorming!
Please let me know as soon as you’re able if you’d like to participate! I can’t let the project dangle for lack of feedback, and I’d like to make up for lost time if possible.
“So,” you might say, “what should I be looking for?” I’m glad you asked!
Spelling, punctuation, and grammar: the nuts and bolts of the language
Narrative flow: the story should read and progress smoothly, without snagging on the reader’s immersion or suspension of disbelief
Continuity and consistency: errors of fact and internal contradictions need to be eliminated
Style and vocabulary: writing tics and repetitious use of words are personal pet peeves, and I’d like to avoid them in my own writing
Therianthropism: as this is slice-of-life fiction set in an analog of the contemporary world, there’s a limit to how “furry” the story can be, but any means of improving this element would be welcome
Description, sensory impressions, and proliferation of pronouns: These three things in particular I would like to shore up where possible—giving the reader a better mental picture of places and events, trying to follow more closely the rule of thumb that major scenes should appeal to at least three senses, and improving consistency in use of character pointers (not just pronouns but alternatives such as “man”, “woman”, “boy”, “girl”, species, and so on, appropriate to context)
How to go about it? My own suggestions follow, and I’m sure there are other pointers out there people can dig up. (I already have received a couple of proposed edits, but wanted to wait until this stage before implementing them.)
1. Download all the chapters. They’re PDF files, so reading them shouldn’t be a problem. If it is, let me know, and we’ll work out a method.
2. Read through them. If necessary, do so repeatedly, either multiple times at a sitting, with pauses between to view with fresh eyes, or both. Perhaps read for different things each time, such as proofreading on one pass and continuity on another. If the story beguiles you away from your task, read the story first until familiar with it before attempting to edit.
3. Make notes as needed, either while reading or afterward, as annotations within the PDF files themselves (if your software has that capability) or as separate text files.
4. If desired, write up a more formal or polished report or compendium. As much as possible, please offer ideas for fixing problems as well as pointing them out.
5. Send off the annotated PDF files or notes to me directly by e-mail. For discussion on the mailing list, it probably is better to restrict a message to a single point or topic. Otherwise, things can get confused very quickly. That said, I strongly encourage discussion and brainstorming!
Please let me know as soon as you’re able if you’d like to participate! I can’t let the project dangle for lack of feedback, and I’d like to make up for lost time if possible.
Personal: A New Country Heard From!
Posted 14 years agoNot long ago I received a message through my Zazzle storefront about a buyer’s difficulty with purchasing one of my T-shirt designs. The nature and phrasing of the message left me scratching my head—not about the problem itself, but about the message’s legitimacy. Was it the real thing or a spam message? I couldn’t tell, so I shelved the matter; if it was for real, the sender might follow up.
Indeed, today that very thing happened. Alas, I was forced to refer the purchaser to Zazzle’s customer service, as they handle fulfillment and shipping, not the individual storefront proprietors. Fortunately, Zazzle responded in a timely manner, and all’s well that ends well!
Ah, but if that really were the end of the story, it hardly would be worth a post, nicht war? Curious, I asked how this customer discovered the shirt in question. The answer turned out to be that the lead singer, Philip Labonte, of a favorite band, All That Remains, wears the very shirt in some publicity photos!
I was extremely flattered—and very surprised. I had never been contacted about the use of my work in promotional material. If I could find a way to e-mail the band or Mr. Labonte, I would let them know I would be happy to provide ex post facto written permission. Moreover, I also would like to warn them that not everyone is as relaxed about such unauthorized uses as I am.
Addendum: I’ve gotten conflicting reports about the necessity for permission. It may be on the safe side of the “endorsement or centrally featured” benchmark, but one hopes the band consulted a lawyer to make sure of that before posing for the photos.
Indeed, today that very thing happened. Alas, I was forced to refer the purchaser to Zazzle’s customer service, as they handle fulfillment and shipping, not the individual storefront proprietors. Fortunately, Zazzle responded in a timely manner, and all’s well that ends well!
Ah, but if that really were the end of the story, it hardly would be worth a post, nicht war? Curious, I asked how this customer discovered the shirt in question. The answer turned out to be that the lead singer, Philip Labonte, of a favorite band, All That Remains, wears the very shirt in some publicity photos!
I was extremely flattered—and very surprised. I had never been contacted about the use of my work in promotional material. If I could find a way to e-mail the band or Mr. Labonte, I would let them know I would be happy to provide ex post facto written permission. Moreover, I also would like to warn them that not everyone is as relaxed about such unauthorized uses as I am.
Addendum: I’ve gotten conflicting reports about the necessity for permission. It may be on the safe side of the “endorsement or centrally featured” benchmark, but one hopes the band consulted a lawyer to make sure of that before posing for the photos.
Query: Ask My Characters Questions!
Posted 14 years agoYou’ve met Tom Rubicon, Ana Patayan, and Angie Watanabe at a party—perhaps one of Roberta Mendoza’s if you’re into that scene, perhaps at the riverside beach or the little plaza in the small resort town where they live. What question(s) would you ask them?
Personal: Reluctantly Joining the Twenty-first Century
Posted 15 years agoUnder the sort of peer pressure that leads to binge drinking and cigarette smoking, I have succumbed and obtained an AIM account. If you’re interested in getting my user name, let me know.
Fair warning: likely I’ll be pretty erratic about when I’m around.
Fair warning: likely I’ll be pretty erratic about when I’m around.
Essay: Pointer to . . .
Posted 15 years ago. . . Livejournal, where I’ve posted a slightly ranty essay on why interstellar commerce and piracy wouldn’t look the way they do in most military science fiction, and how they likely would work instead.
Query: More in Hope Than Expectation . . .
Posted 15 years agoSo baroncoon and I spent part of the morning discussing an extremely obscure self-published comic book that ran three issues in the latter half of the 1950s. Titled, if his memory is correct, Sergeant Wolf: United States Army, 1987, it ran counter to the era’s boundless, nay hubristic, optimism, depicting an imperfect world of tense international politics, grappling with difficult new issues.
At the time it must have been a bombshell, seemingly darkly dystopic, full of unbelievable technology from out of left field; it’s no wonder the poor fellow had no success finding a publisher. Looking back from today, or even 1987, however, it is astonishingly prophetic.
The single mention baroncoon saw in a small-press history of independent comics was packed with Cassandra-like predictions. Among them were card-key locks, laptop computers (with docks built into desks), optical disc technology, the Internet, murky is-it-military-or-criminal questions behind network warfare, satellite communications, tiltrotor transport aircraft, F-4 Phantom II-style combat jets, and a land war in Asia lost through political complications. In addition, there were other postulates that didn’t happen in the real world, but might have, such as a major biowarfare accident related to the aforementioned war that made much of the southwest US off-limits, indirectly leading to the US effectively seizing South Africa as a protectorate to assure access to strategic materials.
Dead accurate in outline if not in detail, with an eye for the development of technology unmatched by any other author, it could have had a profound impact had it been able to reach a publisher and an audience. Alas, it was a cry in the wilderness; the creator—whose name baroncoon cannot recall, and which might have been a pen name in any case—was unable to find a publisher or an audience for his vision, and apparently quit in disgust.
Anyone who might have heard of this amazing work is urged to get in touch with baroncoon and give him any available information. Someday, maybe, he’ll be able to find copies of it, and its legacy might be preserved.
baroncoon and I spent part of the morning discussing an extremely obscure self-published comic book that ran three issues in the latter half of the 1950s. Titled, if his memory is correct, Sergeant Wolf: United States Army, 1987, it ran counter to the era’s boundless, nay hubristic, optimism, depicting an imperfect world of tense international politics, grappling with difficult new issues.At the time it must have been a bombshell, seemingly darkly dystopic, full of unbelievable technology from out of left field; it’s no wonder the poor fellow had no success finding a publisher. Looking back from today, or even 1987, however, it is astonishingly prophetic.
The single mention baroncoon saw in a small-press history of independent comics was packed with Cassandra-like predictions. Among them were card-key locks, laptop computers (with docks built into desks), optical disc technology, the Internet, murky is-it-military-or-criminal questions behind network warfare, satellite communications, tiltrotor transport aircraft, F-4 Phantom II-style combat jets, and a land war in Asia lost through political complications. In addition, there were other postulates that didn’t happen in the real world, but might have, such as a major biowarfare accident related to the aforementioned war that made much of the southwest US off-limits, indirectly leading to the US effectively seizing South Africa as a protectorate to assure access to strategic materials.
Dead accurate in outline if not in detail, with an eye for the development of technology unmatched by any other author, it could have had a profound impact had it been able to reach a publisher and an audience. Alas, it was a cry in the wilderness; the creator—whose name baroncoon cannot recall, and which might have been a pen name in any case—was unable to find a publisher or an audience for his vision, and apparently quit in disgust.
Anyone who might have heard of this amazing work is urged to get in touch with baroncoon and give him any available information. Someday, maybe, he’ll be able to find copies of it, and its legacy might be preserved.
Query: Neeeeed Inpuuuuut!
Posted 15 years agoEach of the novella chapters and short stories in my story-arc project, Anasazi’s Road, will open with a gatepiece illustration featuring the road sign for which the chapter or story is named and a character who figures prominently in that portion of the narrative.
Recently I decided to add a musical quotation to each gatepiece—a snippet of lyric from a rock, folk, or jazz song. The quote, and the song from which it’s drawn, has some connection to the illustrated character and, often, the narrative section. It might be from the character’s point of view, about the character, or a summation of the character’s role.
I’ve managed to dig up satisfactory musical quotes for most of the chapters and stories, butthree one of them in Anasazi's Angel remains stubbornly defiant. Below are is a short descriptions of the three chapters.
Chapter one, “Y Intersection” (illo features Angie Watanabe, female feline): Angie and Ana meet at Mamie’s during the lunch rush and recognize each other. After Ana’s waitress shift ends, they repair to the Rubicon home for dinner. The girls catch up on events since they originally met a couple of years ago at an all-girls erotic party in The City. When Angie, newly hired by a kayaking business in town, laments that she can’t find an affordable place to stay, Ana offers to let her move in as a housemate and with a combination of logical argument and winsomeness persuades Tom to acquiesce. I rummaged around and decided on “Back Together Again” from the Indigo Girls.
Chapter four, “Speed Reduction” (illo features Roberta Mendoza, female cougar and boss-lady of Bound to Be the Best): As autumn rolls around, the tourist season in town trails off, resulting in reduced work hours for Ana and Angie; at the same time, Tom’s freelance work suffers a minor slow-down. All three, but especially the girls, are concerned about the potentially significant hit to their collective income. An unexpected reprieve materializes when Roberta (whom they met at an erotic street festival in The City the month before) calls with an offer for Angie and Ana to model for BtBtB’s upcoming annual catalog and for Tom to handle its design and lay-out. I’ve settled on Tom Lehrer’s “Smut”, at least tentatively.
Chapter seven, “Lane Ends Merge Left” (illo features Jackie Summers, black-backed jackal and attorney at law): Ana, Tom, and Angie make the big decision to form a household together and to start a family. They enlist the aid of Jackie to arrange for the surrogacy contract and other legal instruments giving Angie the parental and familial rights and obligations she otherwise can’t get, since she can’t marry Tom or Ana because of bigamy laws. It costs a few thousand dollars and is a convoluted process, leading Jackie to comment that they never bring her simple problems.
If anyone has suggestions to fillthose that remaining blanks, I’m all ears!
Recently I decided to add a musical quotation to each gatepiece—a snippet of lyric from a rock, folk, or jazz song. The quote, and the song from which it’s drawn, has some connection to the illustrated character and, often, the narrative section. It might be from the character’s point of view, about the character, or a summation of the character’s role.
I’ve managed to dig up satisfactory musical quotes for most of the chapters and stories, but
Chapter seven, “Lane Ends Merge Left” (illo features Jackie Summers, black-backed jackal and attorney at law): Ana, Tom, and Angie make the big decision to form a household together and to start a family. They enlist the aid of Jackie to arrange for the surrogacy contract and other legal instruments giving Angie the parental and familial rights and obligations she otherwise can’t get, since she can’t marry Tom or Ana because of bigamy laws. It costs a few thousand dollars and is a convoluted process, leading Jackie to comment that they never bring her simple problems.
If anyone has suggestions to fill
Personal: An Unpleasant Realization
Posted 15 years agoI’ve long known that I am, as the euphemistic saying goes, “high-maintenance”. What I did not understand fully until recently is exactly why. Depression? Oh, yes, that’s been painfully obvious for quite a while. Hiding under it, though, is . . . generalized anxiety disorder. Yay!
Reading up on it was quite a revelation, especially when it came to the laundry list of physical symptoms, some of which I never in a thousand years would have connected with anxiety. I mean, difficulty swallowing? What the hell? But there it is.
I suspect I know where it originated in my childhood—and no, it has nothing to do with my parents, thank you. I dug that hole all by myself. But, at least on an emotional level, that and subsequent experiences have defined in my personal dictionary the word “responsibility” as “the best and fastest way to get into serious irreparable trouble.” The greater the responsibility, the worse the reaction, and moreso if it is not coupled with concomitant authority.
As long as I’m on familiar ground where my skills and knowledge are solid and unquestionable, I’m fine and even happy. Straying outside that comfort zone to handle anything new and unfamiliar, financially significant, or involving management of other people, generates disproportionate stress. Pile it on and the stress can soar to nearly unbearable heights. That description is not hyperbole; it is quite literal. Yes, that means what you probably think it means.
Certainly this explains my bafflement at the blithe exhortations of artistic and business advisors to “stretch” oneself. Why on Earth would I want to do that? It will only end in tears. Better to move incrementally, starting with low-risk moves and building slowly from there. I don’t want to “stretch”; I want an adequate living and a comfortable life.
It also may be a major contributor to my, um, lack of romantic success in life: both failed relationships and an utter lack of them over the last fifteen-plus years. That’s more hazy, since I don’t have as much data from which to draw conclusions. Still, it’s suggestive that my normal response to stress is to withdraw socially, and even when I make the effort I have a truly horrendous time trying to “meet girls”.
Why am I even bothering to maunder on about this in a public venue? In part, it’s because, for me, the best way to examine my own thoughts, and possibly to exorcise my own demons, is to write them down, and Fur Affinity is a convenient place to do that. In part, it’s to provide a public service, however minor; if even one person recognizes similar signs in him- or herself and is encouraged to take action, that will make it worthwhile.
Reading up on it was quite a revelation, especially when it came to the laundry list of physical symptoms, some of which I never in a thousand years would have connected with anxiety. I mean, difficulty swallowing? What the hell? But there it is.
I suspect I know where it originated in my childhood—and no, it has nothing to do with my parents, thank you. I dug that hole all by myself. But, at least on an emotional level, that and subsequent experiences have defined in my personal dictionary the word “responsibility” as “the best and fastest way to get into serious irreparable trouble.” The greater the responsibility, the worse the reaction, and moreso if it is not coupled with concomitant authority.
As long as I’m on familiar ground where my skills and knowledge are solid and unquestionable, I’m fine and even happy. Straying outside that comfort zone to handle anything new and unfamiliar, financially significant, or involving management of other people, generates disproportionate stress. Pile it on and the stress can soar to nearly unbearable heights. That description is not hyperbole; it is quite literal. Yes, that means what you probably think it means.
Certainly this explains my bafflement at the blithe exhortations of artistic and business advisors to “stretch” oneself. Why on Earth would I want to do that? It will only end in tears. Better to move incrementally, starting with low-risk moves and building slowly from there. I don’t want to “stretch”; I want an adequate living and a comfortable life.
It also may be a major contributor to my, um, lack of romantic success in life: both failed relationships and an utter lack of them over the last fifteen-plus years. That’s more hazy, since I don’t have as much data from which to draw conclusions. Still, it’s suggestive that my normal response to stress is to withdraw socially, and even when I make the effort I have a truly horrendous time trying to “meet girls”.
Why am I even bothering to maunder on about this in a public venue? In part, it’s because, for me, the best way to examine my own thoughts, and possibly to exorcise my own demons, is to write them down, and Fur Affinity is a convenient place to do that. In part, it’s to provide a public service, however minor; if even one person recognizes similar signs in him- or herself and is encouraged to take action, that will make it worthwhile.
Essay: This Too Shall Pass; or, Furrydom and the Media
Posted 16 years agoSo apparently there has been another massive attack of drama having to do with furries on television, ill-considered actions compounded by freak-show ratings-baiting. It happens every time. The media are not your friends.
I’ve been in the furry community since 1981, and I’m here to say that it has happened before. Doubtless it will happen again. Has it spelled the DOOM OF FURRYDOM? No. Will it in the future? Probably not.
Every group larger than a handful has its own version of the so-called “ten-percent problem”, its own coterie of members who present a bad image. And of course these are always the ones who make the most noise and attract the most attention. Take a look at any organized identity—religious, social, whatever. You will find the same.
Some people trot out their personal horror stories of rejection and repugnance on the part of others, resulting in denial of jobs or other consequences. The animation industry is supposed to be notorious for being so prejudiced that one would sooner admit being (fashionably) gay than being (unfashionably) furry.
Yes, it happens; yes, it isn’t fair. Is it more prevalent than the occasional anecdote? Nobody knows. It’s not like any kind of systematic examination has been done. For myself: I’ve never had trouble over being furry. Ever. Why not? Possibly because I’m matter-of-fact about it. It’s just a thing, you know? Yeah, it’s got a seamy side—so what? Doesn’t everything more complex than a single-celled organism? It has a lot more than that; it’s a whole range of interests and possibilities.
At Further Confusion, I usually get approached at least once by people wondering what’s happening. I doubt that’s a coincidence; I’m sure it’s because I’m well-dressed and well-groomed, approachable, and reasonably ordinary-looking. I don’t try to hide the fact that there are questionable aspects, but I balance the bad with the good in a polite, helpful fashion. I often compare it to being a sports fan: there are football fans, and basketball fans, and baseball fans, but they’re all sports fans—and some of them are obnoxious. In like fashion the furry community supports artists, writers, costumers, and a range of other overlapping interests—some of them unsavory.
If people aren’t given a reason to be outraged, lo and behold, they aren’t outraged.
I’ve been in the furry community since 1981, and I’m here to say that it has happened before. Doubtless it will happen again. Has it spelled the DOOM OF FURRYDOM? No. Will it in the future? Probably not.
Every group larger than a handful has its own version of the so-called “ten-percent problem”, its own coterie of members who present a bad image. And of course these are always the ones who make the most noise and attract the most attention. Take a look at any organized identity—religious, social, whatever. You will find the same.
Some people trot out their personal horror stories of rejection and repugnance on the part of others, resulting in denial of jobs or other consequences. The animation industry is supposed to be notorious for being so prejudiced that one would sooner admit being (fashionably) gay than being (unfashionably) furry.
Yes, it happens; yes, it isn’t fair. Is it more prevalent than the occasional anecdote? Nobody knows. It’s not like any kind of systematic examination has been done. For myself: I’ve never had trouble over being furry. Ever. Why not? Possibly because I’m matter-of-fact about it. It’s just a thing, you know? Yeah, it’s got a seamy side—so what? Doesn’t everything more complex than a single-celled organism? It has a lot more than that; it’s a whole range of interests and possibilities.
At Further Confusion, I usually get approached at least once by people wondering what’s happening. I doubt that’s a coincidence; I’m sure it’s because I’m well-dressed and well-groomed, approachable, and reasonably ordinary-looking. I don’t try to hide the fact that there are questionable aspects, but I balance the bad with the good in a polite, helpful fashion. I often compare it to being a sports fan: there are football fans, and basketball fans, and baseball fans, but they’re all sports fans—and some of them are obnoxious. In like fashion the furry community supports artists, writers, costumers, and a range of other overlapping interests—some of them unsavory.
If people aren’t given a reason to be outraged, lo and behold, they aren’t outraged.
Selling: Bandwagon-Jumping
Posted 16 years agoSo I decided to open a Zazzle storefront. More products to follow!
Art: Why the Heck Not?
Posted 16 years ago. . . Okay. I’ll gin up road-sign icons for folks at twelve bucks a pop. Each customer gets one high-res TIFF image and one standard-size GIF icon. Any standard US or California road sign can be specified, and if appropriate, it can include a custom legend. Payment can be through Paypal; send it to dave@catspawdtp.com.
Spread the word!
Spread the word!
Trivia: A Discussion on the Alien Flagship
Posted 16 years ago“So, what report have you brought me, minion?”
“We have studied the Earthlings in great detail, Your Absoluteness, and we are ready to present our findings.”
“Ah, at last. And have you discovered a means whereby we can crush their resistance even as our ships fill their skies?”
“Yes, Your Absoluteness. We have discovered that there are two fluids without which their civilizations will grind to a halt and be helpless before us. Occlude all trade in these fluids, and victory is sure to follow.”
“And what are these vital fluids, minion?”
“Petroleum and coffee, Your Absoluteness.”
“We have studied the Earthlings in great detail, Your Absoluteness, and we are ready to present our findings.”
“Ah, at last. And have you discovered a means whereby we can crush their resistance even as our ships fill their skies?”
“Yes, Your Absoluteness. We have discovered that there are two fluids without which their civilizations will grind to a halt and be helpless before us. Occlude all trade in these fluids, and victory is sure to follow.”
“And what are these vital fluids, minion?”
“Petroleum and coffee, Your Absoluteness.”
Writing: Playlist Redux
Posted 16 years agoAfter nearly doubling the size of the music playlist for Anasazi’s Road, I decided to break it down into sub-lists. So, again, here’s a list of songs and instrumentals suggested as mood music for the story arc. . . .
Tom’s music
“Hard-Headed Woman” from Tea for the Tillerman by Cat Stevens, 1970
“Time”* from Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd, 1973
“The Pretender” from The Pretender by Jackson Browne, 1976
“When Tomorrow Comes” from Revenge by Eurythmics, 1986
“Nick of Time” from Nick of Time by Bonnie Raitt, 1989
“Simple and Clean” by Utada Hikaru from Kingdom Hearts Original Soundtrack, 2003
Ana’s music
“Let’s Go” from Candy-O by The Cars, 1979
“Journey’s End” from Macalla by Clannad, 1985
“Rag Doll” from Permanent Vacation by Aerosmith, 1987
“The Look” from Look Sharp! by Roxette, 1989
“What It’s Like” from Whitey Ford Sings the Blues by Everlast, 1998
“Unwritten”* from Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield, 2005
Angie’s music
“Songbird” from Rumours by Fleetwood Mac, 1977
“Fear” from Fumbling Towards Ecstasy by Sarah McLachlan, 1993
“Dante’s Prayer” from The Book of Secrets by Loreena McKennitt, 1997
“Kind and Generous” from Ophelia by Natalie Merchant, 1998
“True Colors” from . . . Hits by Phil Collins (cover), 1998
Relationships
“Stand by Me” by Ben E. King, 1961
“Bedroom Thang”* from ZZ Top’s first album, 1971
“Sex (I’m a . . .)” from Pleasure Victim by Berlin, 1982
“You Can Leave Your Hat On” from Cocker by Joe Cocker (cover), 1986
“In Your Eyes” from So by Peter Gabriel, 1986
“Just One Night” from Sport of Kings by Triumph, 1986 (suggested by Baron Engel)
“Enjoy the Silence” from Violator by Depeche Mode, 1990 (suggested by Baron Engel)
“Principles of Lust”* from MCMXC a.D. by Enigma, 1991
“Love Theme” from Blade Runner by Vangelis, 1994 (suggested by another friend)
Additions after original posting are marked with asterisks.
As always, folks are more than welcome to suggest additions!
Tom’s music
“Hard-Headed Woman” from Tea for the Tillerman by Cat Stevens, 1970
“Time”* from Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd, 1973
“The Pretender” from The Pretender by Jackson Browne, 1976
“When Tomorrow Comes” from Revenge by Eurythmics, 1986
“Nick of Time” from Nick of Time by Bonnie Raitt, 1989
“Simple and Clean” by Utada Hikaru from Kingdom Hearts Original Soundtrack, 2003
Ana’s music
“Let’s Go” from Candy-O by The Cars, 1979
“Journey’s End” from Macalla by Clannad, 1985
“Rag Doll” from Permanent Vacation by Aerosmith, 1987
“The Look” from Look Sharp! by Roxette, 1989
“What It’s Like” from Whitey Ford Sings the Blues by Everlast, 1998
“Unwritten”* from Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield, 2005
Angie’s music
“Songbird” from Rumours by Fleetwood Mac, 1977
“Fear” from Fumbling Towards Ecstasy by Sarah McLachlan, 1993
“Dante’s Prayer” from The Book of Secrets by Loreena McKennitt, 1997
“Kind and Generous” from Ophelia by Natalie Merchant, 1998
“True Colors” from . . . Hits by Phil Collins (cover), 1998
Relationships
“Stand by Me” by Ben E. King, 1961
“Bedroom Thang”* from ZZ Top’s first album, 1971
“Sex (I’m a . . .)” from Pleasure Victim by Berlin, 1982
“You Can Leave Your Hat On” from Cocker by Joe Cocker (cover), 1986
“In Your Eyes” from So by Peter Gabriel, 1986
“Just One Night” from Sport of Kings by Triumph, 1986 (suggested by Baron Engel)
“Enjoy the Silence” from Violator by Depeche Mode, 1990 (suggested by Baron Engel)
“Principles of Lust”* from MCMXC a.D. by Enigma, 1991
“Love Theme” from Blade Runner by Vangelis, 1994 (suggested by another friend)
Additions after original posting are marked with asterisks.
As always, folks are more than welcome to suggest additions!
Query: Twenty Questions
Posted 16 years agoI rarely participate in memes—only sometimes read them, even less often comment on them, and rarely post them. (Even when I do, they usually get torn down eventually.) Partly that’s out of shyness, partly it’s out of disinterest, and apathy plays a part. They just aren’t my thing.
There is one that interests me, though, because it has practical application to me as a creator, and I thought I’d jump on that bandwagon. So, here goes:
You’ve met Tom Rubicon, Ana Patayan, and Angie Watanabe at a party—perhaps one of Roberta Mendoza’s if you’re into that scene, perhaps at the riverside beach or the little plaza in the small resort town where they live. What question(s) would you ask them?
There is one that interests me, though, because it has practical application to me as a creator, and I thought I’d jump on that bandwagon. So, here goes:
You’ve met Tom Rubicon, Ana Patayan, and Angie Watanabe at a party—perhaps one of Roberta Mendoza’s if you’re into that scene, perhaps at the riverside beach or the little plaza in the small resort town where they live. What question(s) would you ask them?
Query: I Know—I’ll Start My Own Meme!
Posted 16 years agoIf you had a time machine that would let you make one small change, what would you do?
I would push Walter Gropius at an early age down a long flight of stairs.
Or I would get word to H. Beam Piper of the stories he sold just before the death of his agent.
rindis would double the venture capital supplied by Alan Patricof Associates to Strategic Publications Inc.
smudge would give Pol Pot a scholarship to a major university in the United States instead of the École Française de Radioélectricité.
I would push Walter Gropius at an early age down a long flight of stairs.
Or I would get word to H. Beam Piper of the stories he sold just before the death of his agent.
rindis would double the venture capital supplied by Alan Patricof Associates to Strategic Publications Inc. smudge would give Pol Pot a scholarship to a major university in the United States instead of the École Française de Radioélectricité.Trivia: Obligatory Holiday Post . . .
Posted 16 years ago. . . And time for an old joke.
An American visitor was taking a bicycle tour of the Emerald Isle, mostly along back roads, to see out-of-the-way towns, far from the tourist traps. On one of these isolated byways, a gunman leapt out of the brush and confronted him.
“You there! Halt! Are ye Catholic are are ye Protestant?”
The cyclist, who had stopped and raised his hands, protested, “I’m an atheist!”
This flummoxed the gunman for a moment. After a bit of thought, he responded, “Aye. But are ye a Catholic atheist or a Protestant atheist?”
An American visitor was taking a bicycle tour of the Emerald Isle, mostly along back roads, to see out-of-the-way towns, far from the tourist traps. On one of these isolated byways, a gunman leapt out of the brush and confronted him.
“You there! Halt! Are ye Catholic are are ye Protestant?”
The cyclist, who had stopped and raised his hands, protested, “I’m an atheist!”
This flummoxed the gunman for a moment. After a bit of thought, he responded, “Aye. But are ye a Catholic atheist or a Protestant atheist?”
Essay: Capitalism in Action; or, Furry-Art Pricing
Posted 17 years agoOne of the perennial bones of contention in the furry art world is pricing. Many buyers moan that prices are too high; many artists work like galley slaves to scrape up a few bucks. This even extends to a debate over auctions: threat or menace?
Whatever price an auction fixes, by definition that is what the artist and his art are worth. If it reaches stratospheric heights, then guess what? The market has decided the art is worth that kind of money. Arguing that it isn’t fair seems to me a faint echo of the “someday the poor will rise up in revolution and get their fair share!” shibboleth that, even when it happens, never ends well (NB: the French and Russian revolutions and the Peasant Revolt).
To stave off accusations of being a wealthy snob: I’m still digging myself out of a deep, deep hole from an adult lifetime of abject poverty. There are lots of things I wish I could afford that I can’t. Too bad, so sad. I live with it.
Furry art is, as a rule, grossly underpriced. That’s a fact—easily verified by conducting a little price comparison with other forms of popular and fine art. I know, personally, several artists who have left furrydom partially or wholly, because they can make an order of magnitude more money in other genrés for the same amount of work. What kind of statement is that?
Prices are held down artificially in furry art because, when the community got started a quarter-century ago—I remember first-hand; I played a small part in getting it started—most artists were doing art as favors for friends, and so charged nominal prices. As the community ballooned in the nineties, newcomers, both artists and customers, saw this and adopted similar customs without understanding why and how they evolved. This was reinforced by the fact that many of the newcomers were young and inexperienced, and so didn’t have the background to demand—or accept—the kinds of prices normal elsewhere in the art world. This is changing slowly, but the shadows of the past linger.
Whatever price an auction fixes, by definition that is what the artist and his art are worth. If it reaches stratospheric heights, then guess what? The market has decided the art is worth that kind of money. Arguing that it isn’t fair seems to me a faint echo of the “someday the poor will rise up in revolution and get their fair share!” shibboleth that, even when it happens, never ends well (NB: the French and Russian revolutions and the Peasant Revolt).
To stave off accusations of being a wealthy snob: I’m still digging myself out of a deep, deep hole from an adult lifetime of abject poverty. There are lots of things I wish I could afford that I can’t. Too bad, so sad. I live with it.
Furry art is, as a rule, grossly underpriced. That’s a fact—easily verified by conducting a little price comparison with other forms of popular and fine art. I know, personally, several artists who have left furrydom partially or wholly, because they can make an order of magnitude more money in other genrés for the same amount of work. What kind of statement is that?
Prices are held down artificially in furry art because, when the community got started a quarter-century ago—I remember first-hand; I played a small part in getting it started—most artists were doing art as favors for friends, and so charged nominal prices. As the community ballooned in the nineties, newcomers, both artists and customers, saw this and adopted similar customs without understanding why and how they evolved. This was reinforced by the fact that many of the newcomers were young and inexperienced, and so didn’t have the background to demand—or accept—the kinds of prices normal elsewhere in the art world. This is changing slowly, but the shadows of the past linger.
Essay: Explaining the Obvious; or, On Writing Erotic Fiction
Posted 17 years agoWriting erotic fiction is hard.
Let’s brush aside Beavis and Butthead snickering at the masterful double entendre and exclamations of “duh!” at the penetrating insight, and examine this proposition more closely.
I’m not talking about churning out “he verbed her with his adjective noun” rotgut porn, of which there is so much to be found on Fur Affinity and many other venues. Romance novels don’t count either—they’re stiflingly formulaic, precisely so they can be cranked out like sausage.
What I mean is high-quality professional-level publishable storytelling involving explicit sex, the kind that actually could find its way to shelves somewhere awaiting paying customers willing to shell out hard-earned cash. I know, the current state of fiction publishing in the English-speaking world looks pretty dismal, but let’s pretend for a while.
The first requirement, of course, is to be literate. A thorough understanding of spelling, punctuation, and grammar is the foundation of good writing—any writing. Get a copy of The Chicago Manual and use it, early and often. If you can’t string together words and sentences correctly and coherently, you might as well be stabbing your readers in the eyes with awls. Yes, it matters.
The second requirement is to understand structure. What is a paragraph and how does it work? What is a chapter? Can you diagram your plot? A synopsis, perhaps? How about climax—no pun intended—and epilog? All that is a little more difficult, because it’s more abstract and all too often isn’t taught in school any more. Still, it’s utterly necessary for any writer with aspirations beyond half-readable train wrecks scattered across pages.
The third is a willingness to submit to the tender mercies of editing—and I’m not talking just about proofreading. One definition of the difference between an amateur and a professional is that the amateur will not subject his precious brainchild to such a brutal process, while a professional knows it is utterly necessary. Oh, and you can’t edit your own work; someone else has to do it. Best if it’s a professional editor, but failing that—as with self-publishers—getting a group of readers who are willing and qualified to tear into your work will do in a pinch.
Okay, so far this could be about any form of fiction—but what about erotic fiction in particular?
Sex is about sensation and emotion rather than intellect. It is preverbal and atavistic, bypassing the higher levels of the brain in favor of lighting up the monkey brain or even the reptile brain. By its very nature it is repetitive on several levels. Almost anything else in human experience that shares one or more of those characteristics generally gets glossed over in narrative, because it’s boring to read about.
For that matter, unless the point of the writing is the sex, even that gets glossed over. Yes, often it’s to make the story more acceptable to a broad audience, but it’s also to skip over an interlude that probably would contribute little or nothing to the plot.
If your story includes a scene of a nineteenth-century farmer plowing a field, you’ll probably boil it down to an abstract paragraph or two, skimming through the most evocative sensations and processes—sweat, muscle aches, staying alert so the furrows remain straight, and so on. Going into excruciating detail about every moment and every action would bore most readers to tears, or to skipping over that section, particularly if those readers don’t happen to share your fetish about plowing. (Okay, I couldn’t resist that time.)
English in particular suffers another problem. Thanks to the Victorian era, nearly all vocabulary having anything to do with sex has been loaded with baggage and classified as blandly clinical, gutter-level vulgar, or poetically vague. There isn’t much in between. Moreover, that vocabulary is limited. How many different ways can you describe him verbing her with his adjective noun before it becomes tiresomely repetitious? You’ve already used that word a dozen times in four pages. Find another. You can’t? Yeah, well . . .
Writing erotic fiction is hard.
Let’s brush aside Beavis and Butthead snickering at the masterful double entendre and exclamations of “duh!” at the penetrating insight, and examine this proposition more closely.
I’m not talking about churning out “he verbed her with his adjective noun” rotgut porn, of which there is so much to be found on Fur Affinity and many other venues. Romance novels don’t count either—they’re stiflingly formulaic, precisely so they can be cranked out like sausage.
What I mean is high-quality professional-level publishable storytelling involving explicit sex, the kind that actually could find its way to shelves somewhere awaiting paying customers willing to shell out hard-earned cash. I know, the current state of fiction publishing in the English-speaking world looks pretty dismal, but let’s pretend for a while.
The first requirement, of course, is to be literate. A thorough understanding of spelling, punctuation, and grammar is the foundation of good writing—any writing. Get a copy of The Chicago Manual and use it, early and often. If you can’t string together words and sentences correctly and coherently, you might as well be stabbing your readers in the eyes with awls. Yes, it matters.
The second requirement is to understand structure. What is a paragraph and how does it work? What is a chapter? Can you diagram your plot? A synopsis, perhaps? How about climax—no pun intended—and epilog? All that is a little more difficult, because it’s more abstract and all too often isn’t taught in school any more. Still, it’s utterly necessary for any writer with aspirations beyond half-readable train wrecks scattered across pages.
The third is a willingness to submit to the tender mercies of editing—and I’m not talking just about proofreading. One definition of the difference between an amateur and a professional is that the amateur will not subject his precious brainchild to such a brutal process, while a professional knows it is utterly necessary. Oh, and you can’t edit your own work; someone else has to do it. Best if it’s a professional editor, but failing that—as with self-publishers—getting a group of readers who are willing and qualified to tear into your work will do in a pinch.
Okay, so far this could be about any form of fiction—but what about erotic fiction in particular?
Sex is about sensation and emotion rather than intellect. It is preverbal and atavistic, bypassing the higher levels of the brain in favor of lighting up the monkey brain or even the reptile brain. By its very nature it is repetitive on several levels. Almost anything else in human experience that shares one or more of those characteristics generally gets glossed over in narrative, because it’s boring to read about.
For that matter, unless the point of the writing is the sex, even that gets glossed over. Yes, often it’s to make the story more acceptable to a broad audience, but it’s also to skip over an interlude that probably would contribute little or nothing to the plot.
If your story includes a scene of a nineteenth-century farmer plowing a field, you’ll probably boil it down to an abstract paragraph or two, skimming through the most evocative sensations and processes—sweat, muscle aches, staying alert so the furrows remain straight, and so on. Going into excruciating detail about every moment and every action would bore most readers to tears, or to skipping over that section, particularly if those readers don’t happen to share your fetish about plowing. (Okay, I couldn’t resist that time.)
English in particular suffers another problem. Thanks to the Victorian era, nearly all vocabulary having anything to do with sex has been loaded with baggage and classified as blandly clinical, gutter-level vulgar, or poetically vague. There isn’t much in between. Moreover, that vocabulary is limited. How many different ways can you describe him verbing her with his adjective noun before it becomes tiresomely repetitious? You’ve already used that word a dozen times in four pages. Find another. You can’t? Yeah, well . . .
Writing erotic fiction is hard.
Personal: Yeah, a Meme
Posted 17 years agoRules
1. Bold the ones that are true.
2. Italicize the ones that are sort of true.
General
I am 5' 4" or shorter.
I think I’m ugly.
I have many scars.
I tan easily.
I wish my hair was a different color.
I have friends who have never seen my natural hair color.
I have a tattoo.
I am self-conscious about my appearance.
I have/had braces.
I wear glasses.
I’d get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free, and scar-free.
I’ve been told I’m attractive by a complete stranger.
I have had more than two piercings.
I have had piercings in places besides my ears.
I have freckles.
Family and Home Life
I’ve sworn at my parents.
I’ve run away from home.
I’ve been kicked out of the house.
My biological parents are together.
I have a sibling less than one year old.
I want to have kids someday.
I have children.
I’ve lost a child.
Embarrassment
I’ve let an “LOL” slip out in a spoken conversation.
Disney movies still make me cry. Shut up.
I’ve snorted while laughing.
I’ve laughed so hard I’ve cried.
I’ve glued my hand to something.
I’ve laughed till some kind of beverage came out of my nose.
I’ve had my trousers rip in public.
Health
I’ve had stitches.
I’ve broken a bone.
I’ve had my tonsils removed.
I’ve sat in a doctor’s office with a friend.
I’ve had my wisdom teeth removed.
I’ve had serious surgery.
I’ve had chicken pox.
Traveling
I’ve driven over 200 miles (1000 km) in one day.
I’ve been on a plane.
I’ve been to North America.
I’ve been to Niagara Falls.
I’ve been to Japan.
I’ve been to Europe.
I’ve been to Africa.
Experiences
I’ve been lost in my city.
I’ve seen a shooting star.
I’ve wished on a shooting star.
I’ve seen a meteor shower.
I’ve gone out in public in my pajamas.
I’ve pushed all the buttons in a lift.
I’ve been to a casino.
I’ve been skydiving.
I’ve gone skinny dipping.
I’ve played spin the bottle.
I’ve crashed a car.
I’ve been skiing.
I’ve been in a play.
I’ve met someone in person from the Internet.
I’ve caught a snowflake on my tongue.
I’ve seen the northern lights.
I’ve sat on a roof top at night.
I’ve played chicken.
I’ve seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
I’ve eaten sushi.
I’ve been snowboarding.
Relationships
I’m single.
I’m in a relationship.
I’m available.
I’m engaged.
I’m married.
I’ve gone on a blind date.
I’ve been the dumpee more than the dumper.
I’ve a fear of abandonment.
I’ve been divorced.
I’ve had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back.
I’ve told someone I loved them when I didn’t.
I’ve told someone I didn’t love them when I did.
I’ve kept something from a past relationship.
Sexuality
I’ve had a crush on someone of the same gender.
I’ve kissed a member of the same gender.
I’ve had sex with someone of the opposite gender.
I’ve had sex with someone of the same gender.
I’ve had sex with more than one person at the same time.
I’m a cuddler.
I’ve been kissed in the rain.
I’ve had sex outdoors.
I’ve hugged a stranger.
I’ve kissed a stranger.
I’ve had sex with a stranger.
Honesty and Crime
I’ve done something I promised someone else I wouldn’t.
I’ve lied to my parents about where I am.
I’m keeping a secret from the world.
I’ve cheated while playing a video game.
I’ve cheated on a test.
I’ve driven through a red light.
I’ve been suspended from school.
I’ve witnessed a crime.
I’ve been in a fist fight.
I’ve been arrested.
I’ve shoplifted.
Drugs and Alcohol
I’ve consumed alcohol.
I have smoked or do smoke cigarettes.
I have smoked or do smoke pot.
I drink regularly.
I’ve taken painkillers when I didn’t need them.
I take cough medication when I’m not sick.
I’ve done hard drugs.
I’ve been addicted to an illegal substance.
I can’t swallow pills.
I can swallow about five pills at a time, no problem.
Miscellaneous
I can sing well.
I’ve stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant.
I open up to others too easily.
I watch the news.
I don’t kill bugs.
I hate hearing songs that sacrifice meaning for sake of being able to rhyme.
I fucking swear regularly.
I sing in the shower.
I am a morning person.
I paid for my mobile phone ring tone.
I’m a snob about grammar.
I’m a sports fanatic.
I play with my hair.
I have/had xs in my screen name.
I love being neat.
I love Spam.
I’ve copied more than thirty CDs in a day.
I bake well.
My favorite color is white, yellow, pink, red, or blue.
I don’t know how to shoot a gun.
I’m in love with love.
I’m guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS.
I laugh at my own jokes.
I eat fast food weekly.
I believe in ghosts.
I am online 24/7, even as an away message.
I can’t sleep if there is a spider in the room.
I’m really ticklish.
I love white chocolate.
I bite my nails.
I play video games.
I’m good at remembering faces.
I’m good at remembering names.
I’m good at remembering dates.
I’ve no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.
My answers are totally honest.
1. Bold the ones that are true.
2. Italicize the ones that are sort of true.
General
I am 5' 4" or shorter.
I think I’m ugly.
I have many scars.
I tan easily.
I wish my hair was a different color.
I have friends who have never seen my natural hair color.
I have a tattoo.
I am self-conscious about my appearance.
I have/had braces.
I wear glasses.
I’d get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free, and scar-free.
I’ve been told I’m attractive by a complete stranger.
I have had more than two piercings.
I have had piercings in places besides my ears.
I have freckles.
Family and Home Life
I’ve sworn at my parents.
I’ve run away from home.
I’ve been kicked out of the house.
My biological parents are together.
I have a sibling less than one year old.
I want to have kids someday.
I have children.
I’ve lost a child.
Embarrassment
I’ve let an “LOL” slip out in a spoken conversation.
Disney movies still make me cry. Shut up.
I’ve snorted while laughing.
I’ve laughed so hard I’ve cried.
I’ve glued my hand to something.
I’ve laughed till some kind of beverage came out of my nose.
I’ve had my trousers rip in public.
Health
I’ve had stitches.
I’ve broken a bone.
I’ve had my tonsils removed.
I’ve sat in a doctor’s office with a friend.
I’ve had my wisdom teeth removed.
I’ve had serious surgery.
I’ve had chicken pox.
Traveling
I’ve driven over 200 miles (1000 km) in one day.
I’ve been on a plane.
I’ve been to North America.
I’ve been to Niagara Falls.
I’ve been to Japan.
I’ve been to Europe.
I’ve been to Africa.
Experiences
I’ve been lost in my city.
I’ve seen a shooting star.
I’ve wished on a shooting star.
I’ve seen a meteor shower.
I’ve gone out in public in my pajamas.
I’ve pushed all the buttons in a lift.
I’ve been to a casino.
I’ve been skydiving.
I’ve gone skinny dipping.
I’ve played spin the bottle.
I’ve crashed a car.
I’ve been skiing.
I’ve been in a play.
I’ve met someone in person from the Internet.
I’ve caught a snowflake on my tongue.
I’ve seen the northern lights.
I’ve sat on a roof top at night.
I’ve played chicken.
I’ve seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
I’ve eaten sushi.
I’ve been snowboarding.
Relationships
I’m single.
I’m in a relationship.
I’m available.
I’m engaged.
I’m married.
I’ve gone on a blind date.
I’ve been the dumpee more than the dumper.
I’ve a fear of abandonment.
I’ve been divorced.
I’ve had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back.
I’ve told someone I loved them when I didn’t.
I’ve told someone I didn’t love them when I did.
I’ve kept something from a past relationship.
Sexuality
I’ve had a crush on someone of the same gender.
I’ve kissed a member of the same gender.
I’ve had sex with someone of the opposite gender.
I’ve had sex with someone of the same gender.
I’ve had sex with more than one person at the same time.
I’m a cuddler.
I’ve been kissed in the rain.
I’ve had sex outdoors.
I’ve hugged a stranger.
I’ve kissed a stranger.
I’ve had sex with a stranger.
Honesty and Crime
I’ve done something I promised someone else I wouldn’t.
I’ve lied to my parents about where I am.
I’m keeping a secret from the world.
I’ve cheated while playing a video game.
I’ve cheated on a test.
I’ve driven through a red light.
I’ve been suspended from school.
I’ve witnessed a crime.
I’ve been in a fist fight.
I’ve been arrested.
I’ve shoplifted.
Drugs and Alcohol
I’ve consumed alcohol.
I have smoked or do smoke cigarettes.
I have smoked or do smoke pot.
I drink regularly.
I’ve taken painkillers when I didn’t need them.
I take cough medication when I’m not sick.
I’ve done hard drugs.
I’ve been addicted to an illegal substance.
I can’t swallow pills.
I can swallow about five pills at a time, no problem.
Miscellaneous
I can sing well.
I’ve stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant.
I open up to others too easily.
I watch the news.
I don’t kill bugs.
I hate hearing songs that sacrifice meaning for sake of being able to rhyme.
I fucking swear regularly.
I sing in the shower.
I am a morning person.
I paid for my mobile phone ring tone.
I’m a snob about grammar.
I’m a sports fanatic.
I play with my hair.
I have/had xs in my screen name.
I love being neat.
I love Spam.
I’ve copied more than thirty CDs in a day.
I bake well.
My favorite color is white, yellow, pink, red, or blue.
I don’t know how to shoot a gun.
I’m in love with love.
I’m guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS.
I laugh at my own jokes.
I eat fast food weekly.
I believe in ghosts.
I am online 24/7, even as an away message.
I can’t sleep if there is a spider in the room.
I’m really ticklish.
I love white chocolate.
I bite my nails.
I play video games.
I’m good at remembering faces.
I’m good at remembering names.
I’m good at remembering dates.
I’ve no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.
My answers are totally honest.
