Heretical

The English paper!

agentrosecotton — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 18:27:19 GMT

...so I had all these grand plans to start up my livejournal again and get back into the community and make icons and things. I even re-downloaded the image program I used back in the day and started writing fanfiction to post to a community....

...and then college tackled me.

Being a complete dumbass, I decided it was a great idea to take 17 credit hours my first semester, eight of which are considered writing-intensive, and two of which are an after-school psychology lab that involves about ten hours a week of extra research and at least one week-long trip. I also work 20-25 hrs/week, and live half-an-hour from school and fifteen minutes from work, in opposite directions, and apparently will never sleep again.

But, anyway. So my grade on my last English paper was less-than-stellar (a B, but that was extra generous considering the quality of the work and also the lowest grade I've ever received on anything writing-related that I actually tried at). And I was hoping, being that all of you people are clearly intelligent and analytical, that I could get some constructive criticism on this one. Please be harsh; I really want to improve as a writer, and suspect I'm going to have to if I want to make A's with this guy. I need commentary on things like the persuasiveness and relevance of the arguments and the structure of the piece; I know I have style and I can bullshit effectively for days, but I'm not quite so good at things like comprehensive organisation. (I think that's because I was always so good at blinding my teachers with said bullshit, so they never thought to teach me how to actually write...)

This is meant to be an argumentative essay based on a concept presented in the Law & Order episode "White Rabbit", and using argument indicators as outlined in my text. I think it's decent, but I thought the last one was decent too until it was returned. =)

It is due Monday.

Order and Law

Loaded Language in a Courtroom Setting

The use of emotionally loaded language to convey an opinion or idea is a very useful social tactic, but it can also be very dangerous. Using weighted words to argue a point skews reason, confuses analysis of a situation, and attacks the credibility of an opposing logically-based argument. In a courtroom situation, these problems can lead to an unfair conviction or at least the introduction of unnecessary bias to a jury’s thinking. Therefore, loaded language should be carefully controlled by the judge and the lawyers in proceedings of law, in order to preserve the constitutional right to a “fair trial” that we all enjoy.

Loaded language, clearly defined, is “diction that carries with it a heavy emotional charge” [INSERT APPROPRIATE CITATION HERE--I've forgotten how he wants us to make citations and I don't have my textbook at the moment]. It certainly has its place in society. It is appropriate, for example, to call a firefighter who saved a baby from the Twin Towers a “hero”, or refer to the perpetrators of the attack as “terrorists” or even “evil men”. It is, however, highly inappropriate to use these descriptions to attempt to convince persons to accept the military invasion of a nation unrelated to the attack. Humans have a natural tendency to jump to emotional conclusions, and to base further decision-making or action upon these initial determinations, without clearly considering all the facts. As such, the use of a loaded word or phrase can bias a person’s thinking without the individual’s conscious awareness. This bias can be so strong that it sometimes overpowers a logical counter-argument, even though the original argument may draw almost all of its potency from its emotional appeal. Consequently, loaded language is highly useful in a causal explanation, but is out-of-place in an argumentative statement. Given that much of our modern justice proceedings consists of lawyers making argumentative statements, loaded language clearly should not be admissible in a court of law.

It is a reasonable generalisation that we all want our justice system to work both fairly and efficiently. On occasion, lawyers, judges, and the public take the importance of the second characteristic above the first; meaning, simply, that we want the bad guys to be put away, but we don’t want to have to work too hard at it or think too much about it. Thus, it is relatively easy for the lawyers and the press to fall into the trap of using loaded words to argue for the conviction or acquittal of a given party. A prosecutor in a murder case might use “murderer”, “death-dealer,” or “butcher” to refer to the accused; his/her counterpart might call the defendant “a victim of circumstance”, “the unjustly blamed”, or “scapegoat”. Even the contrasting use of the terms “defendant” and “accused” in the previous sentence illustrates my point. Regardless of whether the individual is guilty or not, we as a nation have agreed that s/he is entitled to a fair hearing of all the evidence and all the logical explanations for it, free of terms that might cause the jury to lean one way or the other.

Obviously, we cannot completely remove emotive language from the courtroom. Also, there are certainly situations where it is applicable; to give a sense of the horror of an extremely violent crime, for example, or to describe a family’s reaction to the death of a loved one. However, these are specific spheres where loaded words are constructive, and indeed almost unavoidable—again, usually in a causal explanation rather than a persuasive one. In most cases, the use of an emotionally weighted appeal is a technique used by an arguer who lacks sufficient concrete reasoning to support his/her conclusion. In conclusion, if a lawyer does not have enough evidence to support his/her claim, then biased language should not be an option.

The phraseology of an argument is of paramount importance in a courtroom. A well-placed phrase with a strong negative or positive connotation can sway a jury or spectators away from rational evaluation of the evidence and convince them on an emotional basis, rather than on an intellectual one. This can cause a change in the fairness of a proceeding, which is a clearly unacceptable occurrence. Therefore, the use of loaded language in a court of law should be highly regulated by the appropriate officials, in order to ensure “the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury” [INSERT APPROPRIATE CITATION HERE].

Twilight: A Review

agentrosecotton — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 16:49:00 GMT

This was originally posted on my Facebook, but I figured I should share it with you folks too. If you're a Twilight fan, read with caution. It's kind of, well, mean.

Warnings: strong language, excess sarcasm, one or two mentions of TEH SECKS.

All right, I've finally done it. I think I deserve a round of applause. They said it couldn't be done, but I've showed them!

I managed to sit down and make it all the way through the first Twilight book.

And holy crap, what a load of shallow, mythologically inaccurate, mysogynistic bullshit, wrapped in a cleverly written package and tied up with a bright pink pseudo-romantic bow.

Okay, that's not entirely fair. But let me start at the beginning.

The book opens with Bella, a seventeen-year-old girl, moving in with her boring, stolid father so that her flighty mother can travel with her new stepfather. It is a difficult, self-sacrificing decision, and I'm sure it's meant to make us like and/or sympathize with her, but unfortunately the ploy is transparent and the character is not nearly as interesting or sympathetic as she is presented to be. She makes some dinner, drives her truck around, and is hit on by every boy at school, despite being antisocial, clumsy, and unnecessarily smarmy. This section of the book is close to excruciating; absolutely nothing happens for the first three or so chapters, and we are forced to live out the daily life of this individual, which is slightly less interesting than watching a laundromat dryer go round and round. The only thing that could possibly be construed as a plot point is that she is assigned seating next to a very attractive young man who mysteriously can't stand her. Ooh, I wonder what is going to happen next!!!

Once we have made it past this gruelling ordeal, we meet Edward. Edward is (guess who!) the insanely sexy fellow from Bella's biology class. He alternately cruelly mocks and angrily avoids her, yet apparently the fact that he is impossibly hawt negates all of this, because Bella is immediately obsessed with him.

At this point, it is apparently time for our first traumatic near-death incident (after which Stephenie Meyer apparently discovers her favourite new plot twist, because that's ALL THAT HAPPENS FOR THE REST OF THE SERIES). Bella almost gets hit by a van. The key word, disappointingly, is 'almost'; Edward breaks a few laws of physics to save her and then immediately disappears again. When Bella confronts him, he dismisses her, with condescension, manipulation, and wrath, then stalks off angrily. Gee, I don't know about you, but this sounds like exactly the kind of guy I want to spend eternity with.

The next few weeks pass without incident. Edward angrily avoids Bella some more. Bella makes some more dinner, is hit on by some more boys, dreams about Edward, and hits herself in the head with a shovel. Wait, that last part was me, not Bella.

Then, inexplicably, Edward starts being nice again--if you call carrying her places against her will, using his good looks to manipulate her, and mocking her serious blood phobia "nice". Personally, I prefer "sociopathic" or "Machiavellian" or maybe "BPD", but that's me.

Let me make a momentary aside. For all her failures at plot, character depth/development, and not being crazy, Stephenie Meyer's style is actually very readable. Her syntax is pleasant, her vocabulary (or her thesaurus) is moderately large, and the flow of her phrases is surprisingly hypnotic. I am willing to consider that with a couple of hardcore writers' workshops and a large bottle of meds, she might be a half-decent writer. She'll never be J.K. Rowling, of course, but then again, who will? However, I can sort of understand how someone not as ~~anal-retentive~~ literary as I am could enjoy the rhythm of the story without noticing the gargantuan plotholes swallowing all human reason. Kinda like you'd do Jessica Simpson if you could duct-tape her mouth shut first.

But anyway.

Bella and her circle of ~~brainwashed followers~~ friends get bored, because they're teenagers. But instead of doing what real teenagers would do (i.e. get smashed and fuck) everyone goes to the beach. At the beach she meets Jacob Black, a Native American fellow. And because Native Americans obviously know everything about the mysterious and supernatural, Bella decides that Jacob is the key to her puzzle. But it would be boring to just say she was interested and ask him. In either an amazing ego trip or a brilliant shattering of the fourth wall, she decides to bank on the fact that everyone is in love with her and flirt with him until he tells her that her abusive crush is a vampire.

Which, of course, no one saw coming at all.

Skip forward past some incredibly subtle foreshadowing (shhjacobisawerewolfdon'ttellanybody) and Bella goes to Port Angeles, a nearby town, for a girls' night out with some friends from school. (Speaking of which, I'm not sure if Ms Meyer knows this, but Useless Background Character #6 [Angela] is a lesbian.) Which brings us to Bella's second traumatic near-death experience; her sphere of irresistibility attracts some shadier characters than she meant it to. The hazards of being a Mary Sue apparently include gang-rape and murder. Except Edward drives up in his sexy, shiny, exotic new Volvo (snicker) and saves the day. Again.

Why is Edward in Port Angeles, you ask? Well, that should be obvious, replies Stephenie Meyer. He followed her there to watch over her. How ~~fucking creepy~~ romantic is that?

But Bella does not bother to dwell on the implications of the fact that she's being stalked by a vampire. Instead, they spend the next few days or so having the following conversation:

Bella: You're a vampire, right?
Edward: [stony silence]
Bella: I love you!
Edward: [stony silence]
Bella: I love you!
Edward: [stony silence]
Bella: I love you!
Edward: Stay away from me before I eat you. And not in the fun way.
Bella: ...I love you!
Edward: [sigh]

Bella, being the incredibly logical and sane person that she is, decides that the best idea she's ever had would be to spend a day alone in the middle of nowhere with him. This whole excursion is at his suggestion, which makes me hopeful that maybe he's planning to do what every real vampire who found himself in this extremely fortuitous position would do. But no such luck. Instead he takes her to a very romantic meadow and reveals to her that instead of burning and dying in the sunlight, he sparkles. Like glitter-glue.

...

...

...

Then Bella hits herself in the head with a shovel. Wait, did I say Bella?

Edward decides it is the perfect time to reveal that Bella's blood tempts him like none other he has ever smelt. Which, again, cruelly gets my hopes up, but no such luck. Then they exchange my favourite lines in the entire book, which are more concisely summed up by the movie's version:

"You're my own personal brand of heroin."

God, junkie metaphors are so sexy.

They lie around and touch each other a lot. But not in the fun way. He drives her home. She (wait for it) makes dinner.

Then we abruptly discover that HE HAS BEEN LISTENING/MINDREADING IN ON HER CONVERSATIONS AND WATCHING HER SLEEP THROUGH HER WINDOW AT NIGHT SINCE THEY MET.

Okay. Time the fuck out. So far, if I suspended my disbelief as far as I am capable of (which is, in fact, quite far), I could accept that maybe he really was just a tortured, sexy, good vampire who is doing the best he can to not eat the extremely tasty woman he is rapidly falling in love with, and I could also accept that in the hands of a better author (and less the sparkling) it could almost be entertaining, and maybe a bit romantic. I could maybe have stretched my mind that far. Until now.

Stalking is creepy in all fifty states, you whiny controlling bitch. You too, Bella.

Oh yeah, and they can't have sex. Ever. Doomed to eternal virginity. Ha ha! How sad. Show of hands, who thinks Stephenie Meyer comes up with a way around it in order to get Bella pregnant?

The last quarter of the book is so uninteresting it's barely worth mocking. Bella meets Edward's "family". They all love her. Except that one bitch, but fuck her. (I had absolutely no ironic glee over the fact that her name is Rosalie. Not even a little bit.) Edward's a great pianist. (Heh heh.) Alice sees the future. The Cullens play baseball. I think about ponies and doodle Tolkien poems in the margins.

I think Ms Meyer is finally trying to get around to the plot, three-quarters of the way in, but her skill at action and suspense very nearly rivals her skill at character development. It pretty much goes like this; Some vampire wants to kill Bella. She runs away. Good vampires try to protect her, but she's too dumb. She gets caught. She almost dies. Edward saves her. He takes her to the prom against her will. She wants to be a vampire.

Oh, is it the end already? Gee, I was having so much fun I barely noticed that I will NEVER GET BACK THOSE SIX HOURS OF MY LIFE.

I almost wish I was a thirteen-year-old girl. Because I'm sure I would have somewhat enjoyed the book, were I not hopelessly analytical. As I stated before, Meyer's style is well-crafted and smooth; unfortunately, it is the bait to drag you into a world where vampires have teen angst, Mary Sues control the world, and borderline personality disorder is romantic. Our main character is, to put it delicately, a dumb bitch. She spends her life being adored and wallowing in false humility, which is supposed to be interesting. Then she repeatedly throws herself into the most dangerous situation possible--a relationship with a vampire who desperately wants to drain her body of blood. He makes every decision for her, completely ignoring her wishes; when she protests, he manipulates her until she acquiesces. The only actual plot points in the book involve Bella putting herself in danger and Edward saving her. And all of this is the best book ever written because...they're in love and that makes it all okay.

I beg to differ. Marketing this view of the world to lonely, outcast teenaged girls is not only bad literature, it's dangerous. The power of this woman's words is impressive and a little scary. What happens when your fifteen-year-old emo-kid Twilight fan turns down perfectly good Mikes and Jacobs and Tylers because she's waiting for her Edward, and when he turns up he's a serial killer? Because that's the character Meyer wrote. He's not a sexy angsty hawt romantic hero. He's an abusive sociopath who just happens to be suave and pretty. And that does not cover a multitude of sins, no matter how many drugs he compares you to.

Shame on you, Stephenie Meyer. I hope someone medicates you before you do any more damage.

Spacer

agentrosecotton — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 17:38:21 GMT

O hai!

So, I'm almost certain no one reads this journal any more. This is to be expected, considering I've been gone for over two years.

Well, if anyone is paying attention out there, I'M BACK. I missed having a forum to rant, create, and generally make a fool of myself, and Facebook was simply too full of dumb people. I'll be posting some stuff in the near future that anyone interested in literary review (read: eviscerating Twilight) should find highly fascinating.

::waves at anyone who's still got her on their friendslist::

Anniversaire

agentrosecotton — Fri, 09 Mar 2007 22:27:00 GMT

It's my anniversary!

One year ago today, I came out of the closet...on this very blog, actually. History in the making.

So of course I wore every piece of rainbow jewellery I own to school, along with my pink "This Is Your Girlfriend's Shirt", my suit jacket, and a button I bought at the peace march that says "Lesbians Against War".

Coming-out day present? My girlfriend convinced her parents to let her stay at home. OMG YES. Doesn't make the communication problem any easier but...meh.

^%!(*&

agentrosecotton — Sun, 18 Feb 2007 05:59:35 GMT

My girlfriend's mother has, in the past two days:

a) Called me to tell me never to contact them again.
b) Sat outside my girlfriend's workplace for her entire seven-hour shift to make sure I didn't try to visit her.
c) Taken away her phone, her computer, and her car.
d) Slapped her in the face twice and told her she is a horrible child who has torn their family apart.
e) Screamed at me in the middle of a public place that I've wrecked their family and if I ever try to see my girlfriend again, she'll file a restraining order against me.
f) Told her daughter that she has until her birthday, three weeks away, to get out of the house.

...

I went to the police and asked if there was anything that her mother could actually do, legally, about keeping me away from her daughter. They said no, she had no case.

I managed to talk to my girlfriend this afternoon. She's afraid of going home tonight.

WHAT THE FUCK.

War is over

agentrosecotton — Sat, 27 Jan 2007 02:25:28 GMT

OMG.

I'm going to DC in about two hours FOR MY FIRST EVER PEACE MARCH, OMGWTFBBQ. 100,000+ people expected, first time Northeast Tennesseeans have gone to a DC protest since the war started.

*waves signs and dances*

I am such a hippie.

*resists urge to use Kent State icon for this post*

XDDDDDDD

Descant

agentrosecotton — Wed, 24 Jan 2007 22:48:53 GMT

A Brief Summary Of The 2007 State Of The Union Address:

Bush: Madame Speaker.
Everyone: OMGWTFBBQ YAY.
Bush: ...please give me another chance?
Democrats: No.

nenya_kanadka and I played the State of the Union Drinking Game and threw things at the TV. It was very therapeutic.

HA!

agentrosecotton — Thu, 21 Dec 2006 04:11:27 GMT

The lay eucharistic minister at my church, who also happens to be a priest in training, took me out to supper at the Indian restaurant with her girlfriend, ordered a Merlot, offered to watch "The L Word" with us, and lent me a Rita Mae Brown book about growing up gay.

I am so in love with my church.

Mother Mary comes to me

agentrosecotton — Tue, 19 Dec 2006 04:20:13 GMT

I saw "The Nativity Story" tonight. Is pretty, pretty, pretty movie. And not too religious. And all the characters are reasonable, especially the wise men (<3) and Joseph (<3!) and Elisabeth (<333!). And well-staged and believable and everything. And has realistic birth scenes according to my mum, who would know.

And...Siddig.

AAA OMG I FANCY THE ANGEL GABRIEL WTF MY BRAIN AND CHILDHOOD.

On a different note, school is out for the holidays and I feel better than I did last post. Thank the chocolate. Mmm, chocolate. Keeps the Dementors away.

bugger.

agentrosecotton — Sat, 09 Dec 2006 06:31:00 GMT

I'm at work and it's too hot in here and the thermostat's not cooperating and my new boss is all 'You can't do your homework at work anymore' and I'm all 'stfu n00b.' And I've been feeling crappy for a couple of days for no good reason, just general ick. And tomorrow's my last day of class before Christmas vacation, which would be shiny except...nothing to do because I have no social life in TN outside of, like, school, and I think my classes are going to be bollocks next semester (not that they aren't this semester, but at least I know the rhythm). I miss home right now so much that it hurts, like someone's twisting my heart out little by little. I miss snow and the skating rink and knowing everybody and being walking distance from everything and always having someone to see a film with. And I thought I'd quit biting my nails for a couple of weeks, but now I'm doing it again. And a friend of mine and I got into an argument on Friday which ended with her pretty much telling me to sod off, and we've sort of apologised to each other but things haven't been the same between us since, and I think she's mad about something else but won't tell me what it is. And I've got some disappointing news of a personal nature just now--not at all unexpected, but still disappointing, the kind that can really ruin your day. And my favourite mens' white dress shirt with the red candy-striped collar and the French cuffs has a stain.

I don't understand people. Really, I don't, not at all. I read emotions and body language like a book, or so my shrink told me¹, but what makes them work mystifies me beyond all reason. I'm constantly terrified that everyone's going to go away and stop liking me, or find someone more interesting to talk to, and I know I'm no good at conversation, because I say weird stuff that makes no sense and stutter and ramble endlessly or don't talk at all, and I'm so hypersensitive to people's emotions that they can walk in and smile a little less brightly than usual and I'm sure they've decided to hate me, and then I'm even more self-conscious and avoid people and run away from human contact because I don't want to go on that horrible emotional roller-coaster even though they probably would think I was all right if I could just get over myself. On the other hand, I really don't know why anyone would want to hang around with me in the first place, because I'm not funny or witty or worth your time and there are so many more people out there who are so much more interesting and I wonder sometimes if all my friends don't just put up with me out of pity.

This has been your daily overflow of emo. Razor blades are for people who don't have blogs.

On Friday nenya_kanadka and I are going out for dinner with Mo & Joni, who may or may not be a real live happy old gay Episcopalian couple. I've never met one, unless you count Bishop Robinson, which really doesn't figure, media firestorm or no media firestorm, as I was never actually introduced to his husband. Well, if you'd find them anywhere, you'd find them at St Christopher's, which is...the only church I've ever been to where I actually look forward to attending and miss it when I don't go. Which is surprising. And shiny. And I still haven't gotten over that.

And WTF, WHY IN THE NAME OF GOD does my boss have a giant cardboard box SHAPED LIKE A COFFIN that RATTLES WHEN YOU KICK IT leaning next to the dumpster for garbage pickup? O_O

¹ Which totally makes it sound like I'm a New Yorker who has a regular shrink who couchifies me every week and takes apart my brain, when actually mum dragged me to see one once during a period of mad depression in tenth year and she asked me questions like 'How do you feel?' and 'How's your sex life?' and I gave answers like 'Vaguely pissy' and 'Nonexistent,' not necessarily in that order.

One Word Meme

1. Yourself: bizarre
2. Your Lover: imaginary
3. Your Hair: disobedient
4. Your Mother: insightful
5. Your Father: philosophical
6. Your Favourite Item: laptop
7. Your Dream Last Night: crush
8. Your Favourite Drink: chai
9. Your Dream Home: natural
10. The Room You Are In: coffee
11. Your Pet: asleep
12. Who You Are Now: unintelligible
13. Who You Want To Be In Ten Years: loving
14. What You Want To Be In Ten Years: amusing
15. What You're Not: suave
16. Your Best Friend: redhead
17. One of Your Wish List Items: peace
18. Your Gender: girl
19. The Last Thing You Did: yawn
20. What You Are Wearing: Lennon
21. Your Favourite Weather: snowboard
22. Your Favourite Book: sci-fi
23. The Last Thing You Ate: soup
24. Your Life: tangled
25. Your Mood: sleepy

Bye, bye, Miss American Pie

agentrosecotton — Thu, 07 Dec 2006 05:21:19 GMT

Top five painfully microcosmic statements heard in America to make your blood boil:

5. 'Bisexual is just a fancy name for indiscriminately promiscuous. May as well declare at the press conference, "I have no idea who I am and, furthermore, am utterly incapable of making a commitment."'

--this article, courtesy of World Magazine

4. 'Don't be a girly-man--vote Republican!'

--numerous bumper stickers

3. 'Bomb the ragheads.'

--a t-shirt seen at the mall

2. 'I can't afford to go to the doctor.'

--heard over and over again from visibly sick classmates

1. 'They're just Africans.'

--a bloke at school, on the Darfur situation

I drew a map of Canada with your face sketched on it twice

agentrosecotton — Sun, 03 Dec 2006 02:41:42 GMT

kd Lang makes me feel Christmasy, don't ask me why. Aside from angsty Canadian lesbian love songs, what else brings on that warm glowing holiday cheer? Why, ~~spiked eggnog~~ Christmas memes, of course!

Because I have nothing better to do at work when there are no customers.

Step One
Make a post (public, f'locked, filtered...whatever you're comfortable with) to your LJ. The post should contain your list of 10 holiday wishes. The wishes can be anything at all, from simple and fandom-related ("I'd love a Snape/Hermione icon that's just for me") to medium ("I wish for _____on DVD") to really big ("All I want for Christmas is a new car/computer/house/TV.") The important thing is, make sure these wishes are things you really, truly want.

Also, make sure you post some version of these guidelines in your LJ so that the holiday joy will spread.

Step Two
Surf around your friendslist (or friendsfriends, or just random journals) to see who has posted their list. And now here's the important part:

If you see a wish you can grant, and it's in your heart to do so, make someone's wish come true. You needn't spend money on these wishes unless you want to. The point isn't to put people out, it's to provide everyone a chance to be someone else's holiday elf—to spread the joy. Gifts can be made anonymously or not—it's your call.

There are no rules with this project, no guarantees, and no strings attached. Just...wish, and it might come true. Give, and you might receive. And you'll have the joy of knowing you made someone's holiday special.

Rosie's List

1. Um, this one was granted before I posted the list. :D And now I can't write about it *because* it was granted, and I'm sure that makes sense in some parallel universe....
2. Anything at all from this website, or anything in general that's fair trade. Or, even better, donations and such. Like this or this. They need it much more than I do!
3. Some good slash recs in the following pairings: Hermione/Ginny, Eowyn/Arwen, Janeway/Roslin, Roslin/anyone really, Sirius/Remus.
4. Music! Someone's taste, whatever it is, I'll listen to anything...except waily twangy country, I honestly couldn't care less if your girlfriend stole your pickup truck and ran over your hound dog.
5. ~~This sweater~~ A nice jacket, maybe a black trenchcoat, because I've lost mine.
6. Being able to find good Christmas presents for the (gah!) fourteen people on my immediate list (five siblings, two parents, a sister-in-law, four cousins, an aunt, and an uncle). I already have the best present in the world for my older sister--email or comment and I'll tell you, because she reads this journal--and I bought a 1962 'Silver Beatles' poster advert for my dad (who heard them when he was fourteen and they still *were* the Silver Beatles, promoting themselves in Germany by singing 'Si liebe dich, ya, ya, ya', and he wandered into my aunt's room with the transistor radio and said "This is going to be the next great band"). More ~~inexpensive~~ ideas like this, please....
7. Brandy chocolates. (Specifically, the inch-long banana-shaped ones in the flat boxes with the forty languages on the back that go on sale in bulk at the Real Canadian Wholesale Club around this time of year. You know what I'm talking about, sensualmonkey, nenya_kanadka, elvenriver, crazilyinsane, coldestcaress. Good times.)
8. A massage (from someone either impartial and thus unembarrassing, or hot and interested). I'm always giving other people massages--I've got the hands of God, apparently, something about all those hours at the computer/piano/gates of Hell as a child--but I can't recall ever getting one of my own. Ever. *tear*
9. My brothers. (Considering I haven't seen them in TWO YEARS. x_x)
10. ~~Hair peace~~ ~~Bed peace~~ World peace. Not asking for much, am I?

Aside--I just realised that six of eight people in my family are on ellejay. prophetpeter, chara_sketches, nenya_kanadka, elvenriver, sensualmonkey, and me. Plus mrsbell, my sister-in-law. And the other two are eleven and nine years old. We're a right old family of dorks.

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Rosie
2. Torres
3. That Gay Canadian Chick

THREE WORDS TO DESCRIBE YOU:
1. Odd
2. Inept
3. Sensitive

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My eyes
2. My fashion sense
3. My mad piano skillz

THREE THINGS YOU HATE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My clumsiness
2. My shallowness
3. My emo

THREE THINGS YOU'RE OBSESSED WITH:
1. My soapbox
2. The Beatles
3. Hot straight girls

THREE THINGS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND:
1. The supposed sexiness of high heels
2. Militant patriotism
3. Hot straight girls

THREE THINGS THAT ANNOY YOU:
1. Losing at Nibbles
2. Sleepiness
3. Hot straight girls

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Being alone
2. Being trapped
3. Hot straight girls

THREE FUNNIEST WORDS YOU CAN THINK OF:
1. Badger
2. Mushroom
3. Snake

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Opera metal
2. Political satire
3. Your mom

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BRANDS:
1. Airwalk
2. Sugi
3. The Unemployed Philosophers' Guild

THREE THINGS YOU CAN'T DO:
1. Play 'Alla Turca' decently on the piano
2. Make my self-esteem listen to reason *poke*
3. Hot straight girls

THREE FAVORITE CLOTHING ITEMS:
1. 'Let It Be' T-shirt
2. Gypsy skirt (I've made peace with my girly side)
3. Trippy necktie

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Reading
2. Writing
3. Ranting

THREE THINGS YOU CAN'T WAIT TO HAVE:
1. A high school diploma
2. The right to vote
3. Dreadlocks

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Psychology
2. Graphic design
3. Music therapy

THREE FAVORITE ITEMS (YOU OWN):
1. Glasses
2. Ancient battered CD player
3. One wristband

THREE CLUBS YOU'D JOIN:
1. The Kathryn Janeway Temple
2. Give Peace A Chance
3. Hot Straight Girl Addicts Anonymous

THREE THINGS YOU JUST DID TODAY:
1. Had an actual conversation with someone shiny without making an idiot of myself
2. Wore a red ribbon
3. Bought a suit for the winter formal

THREE INSIDE JOKES:
1. Bloomers!
2. ^Shrimp. _Shrimp. ^Shrimp. _Shrimp. ^Shrimp.
3. I've been to Laurel's basement...it's dark, and she has a piano.

THREE THINGS TO NEVER DO:
1. Loudly sing "Blue Orchid" to break an uncomfortable silence.
2. Shout obscenities at my English teacher.
3. Hot straight girls.

THREE THINGS TO REMEMBER:
1. The fifth of November.
2. The eighth of December.
3. Tiredness and sleep are connected and you function better when you GO TO BED BEFORE TWO AM. *headdesk*

On your current playlist, hit shuffle and pick the first twenty songs on the list (no matter how cheesy or embarrassing), and write down a line of the song. Try to avoid putting the song title in the line. Then have your friends comment and see if they know the songs!

Whoever gets it correct first, place the title & artist along with the person's name who guessed it in the entry. And no cheating searching the lyrics online!

1. My church is not of silver and gold // Its glory lies beyond judgment of souls // The commandments are of consolation and warmth
2. Semolina pilchard climbing up the Eiffel Tower // Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna // Man you should have seen them kicking Edgar Allan Poe (morielfeanorwen got I Am The Walrus by The Beatles)
3. My MySpace page is all totally pimped out // Got people beggin' for my top eight spaces // Yo, I know pi to a thousand places (elvenriver got White And Nerdy by Weird Al Yankovic)
4. Homophobes in the high command // Waiting for the rapture like it's Disneyland (nenya_kanadka got Man of God by Eliza Gilkyson)
5. 'Cause I'm gonna guess they won't be prepared // for thousand Fahrenheit hot metal lights behind your eyes
6. This here music mash up the nation // This here music cause a sensation
7. Oh how I wish for soothing rain // All I wish is to dream again (nenya_kanadka got Nemo by Nightwish
8. What happened to the dream of a girl president? // She's dancing in the video, next to 50 Cent (karaotter got Stupid Girls by Pink--leave me alone, I have my occasional pop indulgence)
9. And this house just ain't no home // Anytime she goes away (ramblin_rosie got Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers)
10. I want to go back to // Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all
11. You're so ambitious for a juvenile // But if you're so smart, tell me, why are you still so afraid?
12. Demolition woman, can I be your man? // Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light // Television lover, baby, go all night (cass_the got Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard)
13. The dawn is breaking, it's early morn // The taxi's waiting, he's blowing his horn (ramblin_rosie got Leaving On A Jet Plane, elvenriver got John Denver)
14. We need to form a full assault // It's Canada's fault! (ramblin_rosie got Blame Canada from South Park)
15. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind // It's gonna be a bright sunshiny day (ramblin_rosie got I Can See Clearly Now by Johnny Nash)
16. I know you keep a journal and every page is rippled // From the tears that you cry, ain't no meaning to your scribble (queen_of_ocd got Atmosphere by TobyMac)
17. I saw him dancing there by the record machine // I knew he must have been about seventeen (elvenriver got I Love Rock&Roll by Joan Jett)
18. Johnny wishes he was famous // Spends his time alone in the basement // With Lennon and Cobain and a guitar and a stereo (elvenriver got Innocent by Our Lady Peace)
19. When you talk about destruction // Don't you know that you can count me out
20. You don't know what we can see // Why don't you tell your dreams to me // Fantasy will set you free (ramblin_rosie got Magic Carpet Ride by Steppenwolf)

And, just for good measure, although I'm sure we've all seen it already--

Also:
I am, I am, I am Canadian
And we don't believe in violence--except on hockey night
Where's your beaver?
An old rivalry
Ottawa, we have a problem

Christ, you know it ain't easy

agentrosecotton — Thu, 30 Nov 2006 02:57:54 GMT

Note to self:

STOP IT. In the name of Cthulhu, please. You are shiny. People like you. You have friends. Just because you say something off-colour and they look at you oddly, or they want to hang out with their other friends for a while, or you're picking up their bad moods about something completely unrelated does not mean that everyone hates you and you are going to die lonely. Cruel manipulative buggered-up social relations are *so* sixth-grade.

It would also be really nice if you would stop repeating "They won't like me once they really know me" to yourself. That's not exactly helping.

Enough with the bloody emo already.

Srsly.

Well, bugger. No wordplay intended.

agentrosecotton — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 04:37:21 GMT

Hold on, I have to work myself up to this.

I wrote slash.

I wrote boyslash.

I wrote angsty boyslash.

I wrote angsty PotC boyslash.

I wrote angsty PotC Jack Sparrow boyslash.

...

I WROTE ANGSTY POTC JACK SPARROW/CUTLER BECKETT BOYSLASH.

Someone shoot me.

o_o

agentrosecotton — Wed, 08 Nov 2006 17:48:26 GMT

And Montana is won....

omfg the tension ._.

ETA 1: HOLY FUCK, DONALD RUMSFELD IS STEPPING DOWN.

I shouted "Yes!" when I heard it and I would have stood up and cheered if I wasn't sick.

Excepting a win for Harold Ford, a landslide Senate victory, and George Bush handing over his job to Barack Obama, could this election day be any better?

ETA 2: Bob Gates?

Okay, well, he's not Rumsfeld. *crosses fingers*

ETA 3: Well, Mr Bush spent a lot of time saying nothing....

Virginia, come on dammit. X_X *faints*

AAA.

agentrosecotton — Wed, 08 Nov 2006 05:46:55 GMT

HOUSE SPEAKER NANCY PELOSI.

THAT IS ALL.

I am the Walrus.

agentrosecotton — Mon, 06 Nov 2006 04:10:42 GMT

Yes, I know, new laptop is inducive of spam, but I couldn't resist showing this off--

You paid attention during 97% of high school!

85-100% You must be an autodidact, because American high schools don't get scores that high! Good show, old chap!

Do you deserve your high school diploma?
Create a Quiz

--and I'm only in eleventh year. ^_^

Also:

Remember, remember, the fifth of November
The gunpowder treason and plot
I know of no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

(Yes, I finally saw that movie, and yes, FRACKIN' WHOA.)

We're walking in the air....

agentrosecotton — Sat, 04 Nov 2006 02:19:39 GMT

I find myself very homesick this week, for the Rockies, of all places. I bought a snowboarding magazine because I wanted to sketch some of the pretty pictures and caught myself staring at the absolutely breathtaking photography of Whistler and the Pine Pass, and dreaming about the sweeping slopes that climb all the way into heaven and the feeling of fresh powder packed under your boots up in the hills where there's nothing but you and the snow and the endless blue sky. I remember driving through the Pass in the springtime, going to see Nenya in Victoria, and how the ice was melting and tiny waterfalls and wildflowers were everywhere, and the lurch in my stomach when we drove around a corner and you could see three, four, five, six mountains marching into the distance all covered in dazzlingly white snow just like a painting. It was so intensely spiritual and so refreshingly natural all at once, like the barrier between us and God suddenly disappeared.

I grew up on the northwestern edge of the cold, dry, flat Canadian prairies, where a molehill caused great excitement, so why am I homesick for the greatest mountain range in North America?

In an unrelated story, I GOT MY LAPTOP TODAY. The insurance company finally got around to paying us pain&injury settlements for the crash in May, and I got, ah, approximately 120 hours worth of wages. XD Which was enough to buy myself a modest but more than functional 14-inch 20gig wi-fi IBM ThinkPad on EBay, plus some extra bits like a carrying case, mouse, and 1gig flash drive, with a good bit of cash left over for ~~science fiction novels~~ the greater good of humanity. Ohhhh, it's so pretty. <3 I shall love it and pet it and feed it cookies.

And, apparently, Senator Obama is not against the idea of running for PotUS. And 70% of people who took the poll say they'd vote for him.

OMG.

I am trying not to get my hopes up. Trying. Very, very hard.

...gleek!

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me....

agentrosecotton — Thu, 02 Nov 2006 01:53:42 GMT

What? Resurgence of obsession with the Beatles because hot-straight-girl-on-whom-one-has-an-utterly-hopeless-crush is a fan? Where?

In other news, my Evil Gay Agenda is progressing, although not officially. Still banging my head against the concrete wall of conservative homophobic bureacracy that keeps my gay-straight alliance theoretical. I feel rather like Calvin.

Ways That Rosie Has Been Out And Proud At School:
1) Carrying a backpack covered in subversive political buttons which made it onto the Northern Sun street-shots page.
2) Wearing this shirt to school. No death threats yet. We'll see.
3) Planning to attend the winter dance with a (platonic) female friend as a couple. I'm wearing a suit just to be odd, which is, as my boss commented, "borderline dyke". XD Next item: ducking the flying rotten tomatoes....

Anyone have any other suggestions? :)

Can't you see I'm white and nerdy?

agentrosecotton — Thu, 12 Oct 2006 23:31:22 GMT

I'm not dead, it's just my Internet....

Weird Al Yankovich wins at life.

agentrosecotton — Mon, 25 Sep 2006 03:54:04 GMT

I have a confession to make.

I was in a shop the other day with my dad, wandering through the book section, and somehow ended up leaving with a certain novel in my posession. Overcoming all my attempts to tactfully remove myself from its reach, it leaped off the wall and into my shopping cart with a mighty bound, and I was powerless beneath its influence. O noes! So, of course, once I'd bought it, there was really nothing left to do but read it--

--and the sequel--

--and the third--

--now I'm halfway through the fourth--

--and anyway, the confession is this:

I FINALLY BROKE DOWN AND READ HARRY POTTER.

*dies a horrible death*

You see, when Pottermania first swept the globe, I was eleven or so and thoroughly immersed in Tolkien, and was rather given to feeling superior and turning up my nose at those who would settle for anything as common and childish as Potter. I felt sorry for those I espied at the coffee shop with one of the amazingly numerous novels in their posession--sort of 'Haven't they got anything better to read?'--and loftily buried my nose in The Silmarillion instead. I have gone to great lengths to avoid it, refusing to allow myself even the momentary weakness of peeking inside the cover, on the grounds that nothing that so many people were mad over could possibly be any good (see: Eragon). It was a matter of principle, dammit!

But I'm a traitor to the cause. Because now I'm reading it. And, er, I like it. *shame* And I've seen the first movie (AFTER I read the book, obviously), and OMG, they are such tiny cute wizardlings. And the beginning of Movie 2 is promising. And WTF THE WEASLEYS ARE SO TOTALLY MY FAMILY, right down to the red hair¹ and the hand-me-down robes. AAAAA JK ROWLING STOLE MY ANCESTRY. And Hermione is <333. And Snape is sexy as hell. ~~So is Lucius Malfoy.~~ And Professor McGonagall is ridiculously awesome. So is Dumbledore. So is Lupin. Especially Lupin, really. And WHY must I go and read fanfic before I've finished the damn' books, now I already know that Cedric and Dumbledore both bite it before the end of the sixth book.... *le sigh*

Anyway, the point of all this (yes, there is one!) is: Those of you who've been in on the conspiracy all along--now that I've been sucked into the black hole, what do I do next? Where's the good fanfic, the sexy icons, the clever parody films (excluding Potter Puppet Pals and Snape's Too Sexy, everyone knows about those)? Where do I buy Potter Fandom For Dummies? 'Cos, really, I'm not planning to devote too much time to this.

...she said, while putting off all her homework including her boring-but-essential geometry sheets and her actually-quite-interesting-and-extremely-vital Brit Lit project, ignoring her significant other much to their dismay, and letting her inbox pile up to towering heights....

¹Although only four of ours are redheads, and, of course, I drew a short straw, unlike Nenya. *is not bitter at ALL, oh, no*

Satirically yours....

agentrosecotton — Tue, 19 Sep 2006 00:51:35 GMT

Puff the magic Jesus floats around the universe
The United States is his favourite place on the whole entire earth
So sing your songs and wave your flag
And thank the Lord for all you have
But what about them?
Did you forget about them?

We came, we conquered, never speak of this again
Life must go on, let's not think of them
Things are comfortable now, the pioneers have settled in
A perfect blend of progress and pale skin
For our sake and those to come
Well rewrite the text so you can forget where you came from
Tell it in a way that will build your self-esteem
Repackage the product and sell the American dream

History is best forgotten and even better rewritten
And since there’s no forgetting let’s remember it different
Commit to it so strongly till you believe it
The truth is there but you aren’t able to receive it
You need to know you’re safe here
Hide your face here cause you found your faith here
But four walls with no windows doesn’t mean you’re it
Four walls with no windows doesn’t mean they don’t exist

What a prosperous, wondrous place
Remember to say grace before we scrape our plates
And ignore the crying outside the door
Sure, you'll pray for their burdens, but you don't want to make it yours
Thin lines divide, but there's a world of difference
So crawl back into your happy existence
And feel the bliss of ignorance keep you warm
Blessed are those who mourn, but it's so foreign
The more you have, the less you care
The less you care, the more you become unaware
And sure life's not fair, but it favors us, apparently (heh--)
And how are we to interpret this excess?
Is it God's favour, ill behavior, simply man's modern progress?
God bless us as we sweep this mess under the rug
Don't want to walk barefoot on the tile and step in the mud
Out of sight, out of mind, pushed to the side
Left for someone else to rationalize and justify

Puff the magic Jesus
Floats around the universe
The United States is His favorite place on the whole entire earth
So sing your songs and wave your flag
And thank the Lord for all you have
But what about them?
Did you forget about them?

--Written by a moderately conservative Christian artist named John Reuben, albums sold just an aisle down from the James Dobson and Left Behind material.

Huh. Just goes to show you can't always judge someone by their apparent politics.

(Download here.)

Simple pleasures

agentrosecotton — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 20:42:05 GMT

There is not now, nor has there ever been, nor will there ever be anything at any point in the known universe that remotely approaches the feeling evoked by opening a brand new twenty-four box of your very own freshly-sharpened pencil crayons.

Glafbguggle.

agentrosecotton — Wed, 30 Aug 2006 00:45:10 GMT

I'm going to start a gay-straight alliance.

I've been planning this all summer, with determination & a great deal of trepidation. Because, y'know, this is Tennessee. I'm going to get bombs in my locker. Harassment and bureacratic roadblocks, at the very least. But somebody's got to do it, because...it needs to be done.

Anyway, so I lucked out and ended up with some friends who had already been thinking of starting their own GSA, but were dithering because they weren't sure anyone would come. And we're totally all going to start one. Soon.

::scared::

I asked my (ZOMGTEHFRACKINGAWESOME) English teacher about sponsoring us. She said no, that she didn't agree with "the gay lifestyle" (::giggles at term::), that she appreciates and respects gay people but doesn't want to be involved in anything like that because it goes against her beliefs. Nice for her, but it doen't help us. I'm glad she was honest--I was afraid of mutterings about a busy schedule and lower marks on homework assignments, which is infinitely worse than flat-out refusal. Anyway.

So now I'm thinking of asking my biology teacher, who is very nice and logical and straight-down-the-line. Not necessarily someone I'd closely befriend, but she's one of those organizational leader-types, which I'm er...not. So it'd be nice to have her on my side. I don't know.

...Did I mention yet that I'm scared? O_____O

School!

agentrosecotton — Fri, 25 Aug 2006 21:19:34 GMT

Started school Wednesday! I was two weeks late (long, bloody, painful story), but I did, I started!

Went in Wed. morning, saw the three-inch-wide lockers and dreaded them, was handed a schedule (Economics and Government, Geometry, Social Issues & Problems, and Biology I) shown around very quickly by a bored senior with a co-op class, shoved into my Economics and Government class. Met two very shiny girls who spent all class talking to me instead of doing group work, and we discussed starting my gay-straight alliance, something I've been planning to do all summer, and they had thought of it but hadn't actually done it yet. Yay! Got a feckin' huge textbook. Went to Geometry; some of it's stuff I already know, but not all. Met more shiny people, wrote notes back and forth, taught each other what transitive means, laughed, cried, bonded, etc. Got another feckin' huge textbook. Began to not dread the lockers so much. Went to Social Issues & Problems; sat through an hour and fifteen minutes of divorce statistics, and had my comment about low divorce rates in Mass. dismissed as "well, they haven't allowed gay marriage very long". Got no feckin' huge textbook; shoulders breathed a sigh of relief. Went to lunch, which cost two dollars and had absolutely no taste. Went to Biology I; realized I got put in a freshman class because they didn't understand my Canadian science creds; was irritated. Conversation with natives went sommat like this:

Freshmen: What are you taking/where are you from/do you have a boyfriend?
Rosie: I'm a junior....
Freshmen: *awe*
Rosie: ...from Canada...
Freshmen: *awe!*
Rosie: ...and I'm gay.
Freshmen: *AWE!*

Seemed to take too much time to explain the nuances of my sexuality and current relationship. Spent the rest of the class drawing Ragi in my notebook and being stared at by wide-eyed fourteen-year-olds. Got a third feckin' huge textbook; developed Backpack From The Seventh Level Of Hell. Discovered shortly thereafter that I don't get a three-inch-wide locker after all--no one does, so why are they there?--and have to lug Backpack From The Seventh Level Of Hell around All. Day. Long. Also realized that I wouldn't really have to think for the rest of the semester.

Went to school Thursday, lather, rinse, repeat. In Issues&Problems, watched really good video about racial stuff, from the point of view of six or seven teenagers, all of different nationalities, telling about their personal histories and the things their ancestors had done. And it turned out the Haitian girl was gay! :D Took quiz in Biology; consisted of stuff I had learned in sixth grade. Wondered offhand if I could switch into more challenging course; thought probably not, considering flaming hurdles I'd had to jump to even be let in, but decided to try anyway. Took the bus home (a new experience, zomg!), which was fun, until the bus driver decided he couldn't get up my half-mile winding thirty-five-degree-angle driveway and let me off. To walk up. In thirty-five Celcius weather. Carrying Backpack From The Seventh Level Of Hell.

I am sooooo learning to levitate.

Got picked up by bus at 6:25 aye-fracking-em this morning. Went to school and poked guidance counsellor, hoping to at least feed my request into the bureacracy machine.

Rosie: Hi, biology is boring and old news.
Guidance Counsellor: 'Kay. *select, type, print* Here's your new schedule.
Rosie: ...!

Turns out, that biology quiz? A section test for the entire chapter, almost all stuff they'd studied before I arrived...and I got 95%. Was a fairly good indicator that I wouldn't get much out of the class. New schedule involves: picking up Biology II, as well as (because of timing and schedules) switching Issues&Problems for...HONOURS ENGLISH III.

AND ZOMFGZORZ IT IS AWESOME. I've never been in a school that offered honours programs, and I had NO IDEA HOW WONDERFUL IT IS. I was only there for a half-hour (shortened class) and the teachers GET ALONG with the kids and everyone WANTS TO BE THERE and there are NO IDIOTS and we actually TALK. ABOUT. LITERATURE. And I've read half the reading list and want to read the other half--"The Hobbit", "The Screwtape Letters", "Frankenstein".... EX. DEE.

So. Great for brain and learning and stuff; bad for Backpack From The Seventh Level Of Hell. Which, thanks to the feckin' huge English textbook and TWO feckin' huge Biology textbooks, has evolved into Backpack From The Ninth Level Of Hell. I am going to have shoulders of steel by January.

I now have, like, actual homework. Sigh. Other than that, school isn't half bad....