On faith

Thu, Feb. 4th, 2016 23:05
gominokouhai: (Default)

Oh folks, hello folks. Tell me your personal canons. What's 100% true for you that isn't supported by the evidence?

Here are mine:

  • Season 6B.
  • The Romulans' backstory from the Rihannsu novels.
  • Elliot Pope is an unreliable narrator, and The Deadly Assassin didn't happen.
  • Sito Jaxa survived the events of Lower Decks. She was either on a super-secret mission that even Picard didn't know about, or she was captured by the Cardassians and released after the war.
  • John and Nancy totally got together when they grew up. I hope they survived the war.
  • The Daleks deployed the [or a] Time Destructor during the early stages of the Time War, which explains why the Doctor lost fifty years off his stated age somewhere between Sylvester McCoy and David Tennant.
  • Edward II wasn't killed at Berkeley Castle. He lived afterwards as a hermit in Europe.
  • John Harrison was merely the first of the Augments to be woken from cryofreeze when Admiral Marcus found the Botany Bay. With his genetically engineered intellect, he was smart enough to claim to be Khan.
  • Fall Out was another drug-induced hallucination, just like Living In Harmony or A, B, & C. Shattered Visage is personal soft canon.

Those are mine. What are yours?

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Let's dance

Mon, Jan. 11th, 2016 18:41
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Is it just me, or has the quality of radio programming taken a distinct upturn today?

I never got around to Bowie. I've heard his stuff in the background. I can recognize his voice. I've drunkenly sung along to Life on Mars in the pub, despite not, at the time, knowing the lyrics. And I know Under Pressure obviously.

Related: way back when, I only got into Queen at Freddie's tribute concert—although I have vague childhood memories of Live Aid. Apparently, sometimes people have to die before I take notice of them. That's not right.

When I first met her, Jehane could only ever get to sleep by playing a single Bowie song on constant repeat. We'd wake up the following morning and it would still be going. I wish I could remember which one it was.

I've liked him in a general way, but I never really spent any time on him. It's time to change that. Recommend me some albums.

gominokouhai: (Default)

Oh folks, hello folks. I am summoned unto Edinburgh this Friday to run a whisky tasting session for the Russians. After that (and, presumably, enough time on Saturday morning to recover), I'm in town until the following Thursday.

Obviously I want to see as many of you as possible, and I'll be in the pub on the Wednesday.

Anyone up for a trip out to North Berwick or something, on Saturday or Sunday?

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gominokouhai: (Default)

I don't think I need to go into too much detail. This year has sucked giant cheesy gorilla dongs. I'd hope for better things from 2016, but frankly, that's setting a fairly low bar.

I gots plans for the new year )

Half way out of the dark.

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Spare a thought please, this Yuletide season, for Jehane's family. I know them and I know that they're putting a brave face on it. But a table has four sides: and there's no way to set a table for christmas dinner without a big, glaring, empty gap where your daughter should be.

I wonder if I should phone them, polite friendly call to wish them well, or whether I'm too close to the problem and I'd make it worse.


Roastin a ham just now, and once that's out of the oven the pheasant is goin in. The brine this year is ginger, orange juice (oranges left over from sazeracs), and rum. And too much bicarbonate of soda. Usually I use bicarb to wash my hair, so I have a giant jar of it with a huge spoon, and hence my quantities were off. Or perhaps not. I'll know in a couple of hours.

I also have sausagemeat stuffing, sossinges with bacon wrapped round, potatoes, and parsnips and sweet potatoes that I'mma roast with a maple glaze. I am fully aware that I live on my own, but circumstances should never stifle genius. Fortunately, I'm fond of sandwiches.

Also, it's cold enough in this flat that I don't need to keep any of the leftovers in the fridge. The counter will be just fine.


Merry christmas all. Now get back to work or I'll belt your nut in.

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gominokouhai: (Default)

On catharsis

Sun, Dec. 6th, 2015 00:32
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Last night's post was a touch on the melodramatic side, I'll grant you, but it matched how I was feeling. Gettin it all out onto paper, or pixel-stained post-millennial equivalent, helped a lot.

Wanna know how I know I'm over it? Good, because I'm about to tell you.

Cee Lo Green's seminal ‘Fuck You’ came on the radio while I was settin up the breakfast room for tomorrow. (Minster FM are actually pretty good. They were playin TMBG earlier on.) It was the bowdlerized radio version, natch, but I fixed that while dancin around the tables, arrangin cruet sets, and generally thinking that my life is pretty okay.

Such a deep and meaningful song, too.

And this time I didn't even need the Shatner to help.

Dulce domum

Sun, Nov. 8th, 2015 22:05
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I'm in my new flat. It's quiet, and, when I turn the lights off, it's dark.

I'm not at work.

I feel relaxed for the first time in an age.


Thu, Nov. 5th, 2015 16:00
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Managed to pack almost all of my clothes into a 1950s Admiralty-pattern kitbag, plus the absolute essentials:

  • Mug.
  • Cutlery.
  • Sandwich toaster.
  • Two Glencairn glasses.
  • Two old-fashioned glasses.
  • Bottle Kilkerran sherry wood.
  • Bottle Wild Turkey rye.

Found the Chinese supermarket. Five minutes walk from the flat, on the way to work, and they sell Jian's Chop Chop guo tie from the restaurant that's five minutes walk from my Edinburgh place.

I'm going to be just fine, I think.

Back up to Edinburgh tonight, two days at work, and then pack another kitbag to come back down again on Sunday. I might even bring a pan or something this time.

On centering

Wed, Oct. 28th, 2015 15:41
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Had to go and pick up a package today from the industrial estate out at Seafield. I've not been to the sea since the day I broke it off with her. (Rivers don't count. Tidal estuaries do.) I was supposed to walk out to the Pentland Firth that day. Got there, looked at some waves. Quickly decided that all of Poseidon's fury couldn't compete with the turmoil in my brain just then. Had a cup of tea and walked back again. Sent some tweets.

Today, since I'd expensed a taxi out to Seafield, I took a few minutes for myself. I like watching the sea. Makes me feel small. None of my problems matter when you apply the appropriate perspective.

Considered taking a leaf out of Reggie Perrin's book, but only for a second.

Walked around the perimeter of the sewage treatment plant, waves crashing in my ears. Really filthy day for it, too: lowering charcoal sky, no distinction between the water and the air at the horizon, spots of rain, gusts threatening to knock me off the seawall.

Just the kind of day I like best.

Just the kind of day you don't get in Saudi Arabia.


gominokouhai: (Default)

It turns out that I went a bit mad, there, for a while. In fact I think I went quite a lot mad. I'm still working out the details. There was other stuff going on that you didn't know about, and it might even have justified my massive overreaction, but it turns out that it was all in my head.

A couple of good friends have given me a good stern talking-to over the last 24 hours, and now I'm feeling a wee bit better. A wee bit. You know who you are. I love my friends.

I was absolutely convinced that Jehane had suffered a psychotic break and had been preyed upon in her vulnerable state. I was worried sick about her, and usually that's just a turn of phrase.

Turns out that I was the one having the psychotic break. It's like ray-hee-ain on your wedding day.

In my defence, she was showing all of the classic symptoms of psychosis. The tunnel vision. The obsession. The unwillingness to discuss it. The paranoia. The shiftiness.

The single problem with my otherwise flawless line of deduction was this: those are exactly the same symptoms as are exhibited by someone who's fallen for some other bloke and is planning to elope with him. This only occurred to me this morning, after those friends (you know who you are, and I love you) had, very patiently, talked me down.

(I'm going to credit myself with just a wee bit of self-awareness, though. It's not much, but it's not bad for a madman.)

So, we're back to the dead-girl narrative. The woman I love has changed, she's gone, and isn't coming back. The relationship had been toxic for a while and I will feel better about this one day. And I hope gerbil-chops makes her happy.

I wasn't the one who came up with that name for him, so it's okay.

Sincere apologies to anyone I've offended. (Except gerbil-chops obviously.) I'm not usually nearly this unpleasant. I've learned a few lessons.

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