Saturday, February 28, 2009

Meet Amanda Aurelan Kirk



Conceived with the aid of 23rd century biosciences and the Volkswagen Routan Babymaker

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

TOS Haiku

Amok Time
Live long and prosper?
I have killed my captain, thus
I shall do neither

The Apple
"Husbandry would be
Quite efficacious." Kirk smiles.
"You sure about that?"

Where No Man Has Gone Before
Mitchell bursts into
The lift with disdainful looks.
Spock blocks, and: Checkmate.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Desert Roses

Vulcan's dry air cannot carry scent molecules very far, and nothing that evolved on that planet relies on scent for finding food or mates. This is why Amanda had planted such a profusion of Terran roses in her small garden in Shi Kahr. No one thought these bushy, ruffle-petaled white roses would survive in the red soil, but Amanda knew each plant intimately, knew which had tough stems and which needed support, which could go 25 hours without water and which could only last 22 hours, dabbled endlessly with piles of stone and small thermoplast windbreaks to create microclimates, trained them up walls until the entire garden wanted nothing more than to give up its luscious fragrance for her. The roses were intimately known and loved. Sarek learned about human love through the penetrating logic of their exceptionally sweet scent, Amanda's best argument in favor of pleasure.
Many nights Spock would see his father standing in the rose garden, on a little spot of glittering red soil not covered by moisture matting, surrounded by the alien white blooms glowing in T'Khut's gentle light. It was too dark to tell if his father's eyes were wide in wonder or slitted in ecstasy, and Spock was deeply ashamed for imagining his father in those unseemly states. But the little boy only knew that when he visited the garden, he felt overwhelmed at the existence of these roses.
Sarek usually did not accompany mother and son on their visits to relatives on Earth, and so Spock would be free to gaze at its gardens, forests, riverbanks, plummeting rain that freely filled the cup and quenched the thirst of its guest, at Earth's tumbling oceans, the tumultuous emotions of its humans, the mad diversity of its life forms, so many kinds of flowers scenting that humid cool air, ridiculously lush, the grasslands lying upon the planet like great pools of blood, the intimate folds of forested valleys sliding silkily beneath their runabout.
Later, when he had conquered these unseemly thoughts and emotions, Spock would take a break from Starfleet training to tour botanical gardens and memorize plant names. He met Leila while studying plant biology, and she taught him that he was not completely duty-bound to T'Pring. Still, his heart was not the soil Leila needed to flourish; if only she would have realized that.
But right now he is standing on a far-flung starbase and they have Terran roses, of all things. Beautiful, heavy-headed, lusciously-scented roses blooming in apricot and blush and deepest voluptuous red. And they are rare out here, the vendor wants actual money for them, and Spock fights the illogic of purchasing something that uses so many resources and will die within a week, but his hope that Jim will see, really see, is stronger and he find one perfect red rose, and he transports up with it in an opaque cylinder filled with preservative gas and waits for a moment alone with Jim.
He wants to tell him everything, about Amanda's love for the roses and how she knew each one, stem and petal and root. And that he knows all about Tarsus, and about the command decisions Jim never wanted to make, and the guilt that waits to gnaw his insides out like a worm, and the central core of duranium whose deadness scares him even as he relies on it constantly. Spock has glimpsed it all in the melds; he wasn't supposed to look but it always lingered around their joined consciousnesses, and the thing is he loves Jim all the more for it, every bit of it.
And then Jim is sweeping through the door with his smile and his irresistible sway that makes Spock thirst, and he is looking at the rose, biosphere Terra kingdom Plantae division Magnoliophyta, and he is taking it from Spock, class Magnoliopsida order Rosales family Rosaceae, and their fingers touch, subfamily Rosoideae genus Rosa, and it's enough to transmit just a fleeting image of Amanda's garden bursting into life, so that Jim understands the penetrating logic of Spock's love.

subtext in Baby Face








Chico (Theresa Harris) and Lily (Barbara Stanwyck) in Baby Face make a cute couple. Lily works with Chico in her father's sordid speakeasy amidst the factories of Erie. Her father has been pimping her out to the beery customers since she was 14. Her only friend is an old man who gives her Nietzsche books of all things! Lily keeps Chico from getting fired by facing down her angry father. When she won't sleep with the guy under whose protection the father runs the speakeasy, her father threatens to kill her. Chico appears to set fire to the man's still and comes in to tell him about it, so that he runs out and is killed when it explodes. Chico says to Lily, "can I do something for you honey?"

They hop a boxcar to New York and Lily sleeps with the railroad goon so he'll let Chico go, and in New York Lily gets into the banking business by sleeping her way in and up; she uses men according to the garbled movie-version of Nietzsche put forth by the old man. All along, Chico is by her side, and if any man suggests getting rid of her, Lily rears up in angry protectiveness.

The way Chico calls Lily "Honey," the way they banter and walk in tandem, their easy familiarity together despite Chico having to play the role of maid (yes, it's the 1930s after all; on Christmas day when the maid outfit comes off, they speak to each other as equals and old friends), the way Lily is protective of Chico: it's a nice addition to an already compelling story.

Quickie

When Spock remained in the sped-up timeframe of the Scalosians, he would have had all sorts of time to perpetrate mischief upon the person of his captain. Perhaps as Kirk sat on the bridge he felt the flutter of many many kisses.
Could Spock mind-meld at that speed? The speed of thought is pretty infinite... I suppose the speed of thought is determined by the speed at which neurons operate, which is the speed of electrical-chemical-molecular reactions.
What would Spock choose to do, given all the time he wanted, and Jim seemingly unable to move from the spot?

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Kin-kur heh Pla-kur: a haiku in Vulcan

Kart'lan kin-kur bi
Zerkha bi rihag bau-tor
Bolau tash nash-ve

My golden captain
My emotions are difficult to ignore
I need to control myself

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Sashay away, doll!


YAY!!! Akashia's gone!
I can stroll out my door and see women yelling at their kids that are just like her: basically still in high school, doodling her makeup in her little notebook and in lieu of showing real leadership, being haughty and bossy. Lip synching was her main skill (well perhaps the $20 blowjob was a specialty too) and she used her labial skills to get out of a bind until it got pretty damn old. Then RuPaul told her to sashay away, yay!
I couldn't believe Shannel was the other one who had to lip sync. I guess I don't have a problem with... whatever it was RuPaul was talking about... being too invulnerable, too perfect. I did not see that as a drawback in Shannel.
Akashia's little biff on the runway proved to be foreshadowing in an interesting way. Shannel came out in this Vegas showgirl Medusa getup wearing nothing but snakes on her giant bare bazongas. Pretty amazing. So then she gets told she's too perfect and just says "ok" like "I have no idea what you're talking about but I'll go along to be a good sport." And then when she and Akashia are lip syncing, for some reason Shannel decides to do this little hop, and loses her headdress and her boobs! Talk about vulnerable!
And she just braved her way on through, and that is what put the beat-down on Akashia, cause Akashia wouldn't have heart like that.

When Bebe Zahara (not related to Brangie) came out, I nearly ran to my kitchen to throw all the meat away, because it looked like the bitch would sniff out blood and hunt it down! I'm scared of her.
She was just illustrating the real meaning of fierce.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

“Okay, Let me put on my Judge Judy robe,” RuPaul says. “People really
need to get a life. And quit taking every opportunity to be offended by
the world. Years ago, political correctness made it unbearable for
anyone to have a laugh or be free. You can’t make the whole world ‘baby
safe.’ That’s really the uneducated approach to dealing with issues.

cool -- video production (how the sausage is made)


eee! Isn't this cool? It's like watching the sausage being made. (Only without the gristle n cowlips.)