Eccentric Flower:199903/that old vague

From Eccentric Flower

«March 1999 «Eccentric Flower


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twenty-one march

that old vague

I am feeling that empty feeling inside that I have learned to recognize, the feeling that I want to do something but it isn't any of the many tasks I am neglecting. This is usually the time when I start a new project, but the last time I did that, it was Nibelung, and the verdict is still out on whether that will flop or not.

I haven't paid my income tax yet. I used to be very good about it. Now I wait until the absolute last minute. I don't know what happened to me. It hasn't gotten harder to pay and the paperwork hasn't gotten worse. I have no good reason to dread it more than I used to. And I'm not sure "dread" is the correct word anyway.

I should write. Something. Anything. Given the dreams I've been having lately, I should write something erotic, but I've been there, and it's never as sexy when it comes out of my head. I can only be sufficiently uninhibited in fantasy. When I put it on paper, I want my characters to act like real humans - and frankly, real humans don't act the way characters in most erotic stories do.

I'm also still recovering from the sting of the Great Porn vs. Erotica debate. I was criticized sharply, in private mail, by a heretofore unheard-from party whose opinion is very important to me on these matters. It hurt.

What I'd like is a locator service that somehow manages to tell me when all the people who I want to talk to are online, so I can talk to them, and a better interface than ICQ on the Mac - the "message box" paradigm is no way to have a conversation. Of course, if there was such a magic service, it'd probably be intrusive - I have certainly had the experience where someone pages me, trying to have a conversation, and I want none of it because I'm trying to work or write. All of my best standards are double.

Friday's "story," by the by, was absolutely true in all particulars.

In Grimm, the Queen tells the hunter to bring back her "liver and lights" (lungs), which is a common phrase going all the way back to the Egyptians (who made the lungs out to be the single most vital organ, with all kinds of other things attributed to them, the same way we do the heart). No word of a box.

The Queen eats them. Again, this is a classical motif. Eating your enemy's organs gives you their strength. But probably a little too rough for Disney, I should think.

And heart has to be marinated for a long time, or it's to tough to slice.





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