alloy_ Her Master's voice.........

Searching for Sugerman

alloy_ — Wed, 13 Feb 2013 08:53:18 GMT

In case anybody missed it, this is worth a look, and the albums are without a doubt worth a listen.

Searching For Sugerman

Occupy

alloy_ — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 06:10:56 GMT

The Occupy movement are apparently angry. I’m not entirely sure why. After all they’re living rent free in a public space near you.

That’s your public space, paid for with your tax/rate Dollars/Euros/Pounds etc. In most cases they’re using the public facilities again provided by your hard earned dosh, or in the ultimate irony they’re abusing their local Macdonalds or Burger King or KFC.

Want to try that with your little tent on any given day in your local park? Want to wash you undies in the fountain and string them up in the trees? Start your herb garden in the flowerbed?

Even if you claimed it was a protest (Children’s abuse of Sea Monkeys MUST STOP!)

How long do you think you would last?

What if you couldn’t even articulate your issue (never mind your demands).

“Well I’ve this anger see, about, like, you know those kids just don’t treat our aqua-simians right”

Apparently we shouldn’t label the “Occupy movement” as bludgers or free-loaders, as social parasites sucking the guilt complex of the collective because their “issues” run deeper than the superficial appearance of squatters.

Do they really?

They’re angry at the system, like a hormone driven teenager they’re angry at everything.

Naturally they’re bleating about their civil liberties, about their rights which are granted by the very institutions they’re protesting against.

Has no one pointed out that hypocrisy?

Of course their rights take precedence over the rights of others who might wish to make use of public spaces, like the pigs in Orwell’s Animal Farm their rights appear to take precedence over the actual producers in the equation.

If they were serious about abandoning the system they’re be out in the wilderness already building communes, trying alternative lifestyles, running out of government issue condoms.

That however may take them away from the flat even ground of our public parks, away from the manicured lawns and trimmed bug free bushes, away from clean running tap water and publically provided flush loos, and worse of all away from mobile phone coverage and the free Wi-fi leaking from Macdonalds.

Doctor Who Comic Relief

alloy_ — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 07:42:56 GMT

It came to my attention that Steven Moffat, the genius currently guiding the the adventures of a certain time lord, scripted a six minute comic relief episode of the Rory and Amy show.

The show is significant because it features pervy Rory a glass floor, and TWO Amys.

That's right two Amys (and oh I suppose two Rorys too)

and 22 Doctors (complex maths)

I am deeply hurt that this was not brought to my attention before.

There may be spankings.

DC Comics The NEW 52 - bleh

alloy_ — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 08:54:38 GMT

Disappointing.

That's how I would describe most of the titles I've read so far.

Dark

That my second thought.

WTF Cliffhangers?

So cliche'd and after a while very predictable.

The Superman comics suck. There's no other way to describe them. Cliche'd, tired and rather boring. Plus I hate the new suit, it looks like something rejected by the 90's X-Men as not looking stupid enough.

As I've said before Aquaman was the title I enjoyed the most, followed by Resurrection Man.

I...Vampire was rather too much True blood and not enough Interview.

Captain Atom (And Firestorm) are a little too much like Starlin's Doctor Solar, but without the fine art or crisp prose.

Green Lantern seems largely unchanged (thankfully).

Overall score F for Feeble.

alloy_ — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 05:12:28 GMT

I have been accused of too much brevity, and not enough magic in my fics.

I've therefore taken the offending story (One Word) and added Cliff notes.
Harrysmom found it amusing.

You may too, or you may go "meh" and ignore everything below the cut (Just like Joe will) :-p
One Word.
The title.
Usually placed at the beginning of the story, it can be placed at the end, or occasionally after a prologue.

By alloy
(includes text taken from chapter of Deathly Hallows Chapter 23 - Malfoy Manor)
A small author’s note in parenthesis specifically to place this missing moment in the context of Deathly Hallows.

Malfoy Manor.
A location

She thinks too much.
A person marker, not absolute, but hinting that the POV is Hermione.

She's wondering where they're taking Harry & Ron , curious as to Bellatrix's obsession with the sword, pondering a way out of this dilemma…
Confirming Hermione POV and placing the time as the beginning of the torture sequence.
Taken as a whole paragraph serves to convey that Hermione’s head is buzzing, full of thoughts.

"Crucio"
This is the first instance of magic in the fic.
The pain curse is unheralded, Bellatrix effectively blindsided her.

No thoughts, just pain, just screaming.
A stark contrast to above, the screaming is also what Harry heard from his POV.

"HERMIONE!" (Ron bellowed, and he started to writhe and struggle)
She hears Ron’s Yell. Harry’s POV (Ron’s his physical actions as per JKR)
This is the second instance of magic in the fic (but the reader doesn’t know it yet)

Release, and curiosity.
A release from the all encompassing pain, and naturally a curiosity regarding that state (Hermione’s POV)

Crazed cursing.
The cursing is not specific because Hermione is not paying attention, she’s curious, a very powerful emotion in Hermione.

"Crucio"
The third instance of magic in the fic.

And screaming.
“Only screaming” because once again the curse has driven all thought from her mind.

"HERMIONE!"
She hears Ron’s Yell, fourth instance of magic in the fic

Release, and wonder
Release (from pain) and wonder (at how it is being achieved)

"…Where did you get this sword? Where?"
Heard by Hermione, over heard by Harry in DH

"We found it."

"Crucio"
Fifth instance of magic in the fic

A red haze.
The potency of the spell practically blinds Hermione.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
Sixth and seventh instances of magic in the fic, if you don’t know what Ron’s doing by now, you’re really really dumb.

"You're lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"
Heard by Hermione, over heard by Harry in DH

Another terrible scream. Which she curiously recognises as her own.
Hermione doesn’t actually hear the curse this time, only her body’s response. (Eighth instance of magic)

"HERMIONE!" (Ron struggled harder than ever)
Ninth instance of magic and a brief Harry’s POV to indicate Ron is possibly suffering.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tel me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"
Heard by Hermione, over heard by Harry in DH

"HERMIONE!"
Tenth instance of magic in this fic

"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"
Heard by Hermione, over heard by Harry in DH, eleventh instance of magic in this fic.

(Hermione's screams echoed off the walls upstairs, Ron was half sobbing as he pounded the walls with his fists)
Harry’s POV, Ron suffering.

Hermione felt the release without hearing his voice. He must have whispered it.
Twelfth instance of magic. Ron whispering her name.

"CRUCIO"
Thirteenth instance of magic in this fic

"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"
Heard by Hermione, over heard by Harry in DH

"We only met him tonight!" she sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault. . . . It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"
Spoken by Hermione as overheard by Harry

"Crucio"
Fourteenth instance of magic in this fic

No release came this time.
Ron doesn’t scream her name because he’s busy escaping.

"Crucio"
Fifteenth instance of magic in this fic

No screaming of her name.
Ron doesn’t scream her name because he’s still busy escaping.

"Crucio"
Sixteenth instance of magic in this fic

Darkness claimed Hermione even as she wondered what Ron and Harry were up to.
Hermione knows Ron wouldn’t abandon her without reason, and she’s unconscious when Ron and Harry emerge from the Dungeon.

She remembered burying Dobby, remembered standing there with Ron's arms around her, remembered feeling his arms twitch, his muscles spasm from the curses she had received.
Hermione’s present for the burying of Dobby, and obviously Harry can’t see what she can feel. If you haven’t figured out what Ron was doing now then you are a ginormous idiot.

"Ron" she had murmured over and over again, trying to take some of his sacrifice back.
Hermione attempts to emulate Ron’s spell (Figured out what it was yet?)(Not an instance of magic)

Sydney, Australia.
A location in the world.

They should, Hermione supposed, feel guilty. They should, that is Ron and herself, be trying to think of ways to locate her parents.
Hermione’s thinking again, and he’s with Ron , and she’s trying to find her parents. Coupled with the location, we can surmise that this probably happened not long after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Instead they were making love.
Coupled with the above we may surmise that this is one of the first times (if not THE first time) they are making love.

She enjoyed Ron's exploration of her body, enjoyed the touch of lips, the soft caresses of his fingers, enjoyed the slow escalation of her pleasure to it's ultimate crescendo.
This isn’t porn, or even a smut fic, suffice to say she is enjoying Ron’s attention.

"Hermione."
No explanation mark, not shouted, an intimate calling of her name and the seventeenth instance of magic in this fic.

It was gone, her impending climax, stolen, but the look on Ron's face, his unexpected pleasure, the fear of reaction, the guilt and apology had all been worth it.
Clearly an accident. Hermione is a bit frustrated, but ultimately amused at the results.

Something to laugh about in years to come.

And sometimes she would invite him to whisper her name.
A little kink for the couple.

St. Mungos, London
Location, a hospital

"You're doing very well Mrs Weasley,"
“Mrs Weasley” so they’re married now

."Hermione." Ron muttered into her ear.
The Eighteenth instance of magic in the fic. Hermione must be in pain.

"Almost there. Just a few more contractions"
Childbirth (Intercourse and pregnancy may be assumed to have happened)

"Herm…."
NOT an instance of magic (you may presume Hermione placing a finger on Ron’s lips

"Shsh love,"
She purposefully doesn’t want him to use the spell

He'd do everything she was sure, just like that long ago day at Malfoy Manor, he'd take all her pain into his lanky stubborn Weasley frame and never tell a soul, but, just like that day she would have to do the last bit herself.
Merlin, if you don’t know what the spell does by now you’re as dense as black hole. This also tells us that considerable time has past, but that this is probably their first child.

"Push Mrs Weasley, PUSH!"

"Her…."
Dear Ron tries again (NOT an instance of magic)

"Shutup Ronald!"
Testy testy, must quite a bit of discomfort.

And then she pushed, and breathed and pushed, and in the end, the healer handed Ron their daughter and he soothed her with one word.
Not Childbirth porn, suffice to say she laboured.
Icckle girl Weasley.
He’s a caring daddy.

"Rose."
The nineteeth instance of magic, and the naming of the child, sets this scene about 11 years before the epilogue in Deathly Hallows. (That’s pretty condensed information hey).

Fin.
The End

For Gerald, so that he may understand.
A Dedication.

People may also find it useful in seeing how information can be compressed into a few number of words.

My souvenir of Harry's Special day

alloy_ — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 06:55:41 GMT

Sorry we could be there to share the day with all the Ladies from LJ (and beyond).

Thanks also to Rishi for being the resident Dark Lord for the occasion (I'm not jealous much)

I did however get a small souvenir.

Random Who thoughts.

alloy_ — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 06:59:07 GMT

Why did the Tardis explode? Was that ever resolved (the explosion was resolved....but the why?)

If River Song is in the space suit, who does Amy shoot (melody? how does that timeline work)

Why bother contacting Amy and Rory to witness your death?

ARGH I bet Moffat is going to give us a Cliffhanger.

Verbosity?

alloy_ — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 06:44:49 GMT

An opening for a "Men in Black" movie?

Docked next to the world famous Opera house, in the shadow of a majestic bridge, a rust coloured ferry waited to transport tourists to Manly. On the wharf trains can be heard rumbling by, drowning out the strains of a didgeridoo. The player surrounded by Norwegian tourists. Two blocks away in the shadow of a freeway overpass a 10 story green building stands. On it's black sealed roof is attached a satellite dish alongside which is a rain stained white plastic chair with one leg missing. The north side of the building is festooned with plumbing and bits of green paint fleck where the pipes merge with the concrete. There is on the seventh floor a small gap between the toilet pipe and the wall. The toilet, a cheap Bauer porcelain bowl with a faded pink plastic seat and lid, sits on stained linoleum. A small white toilet brush and a bottle of "Home Brand" toilet cleaner hugs the wall. In the main room a chalk outline has been drawn onto the frayed nylon carpet and yellow "Police Line" tape criss-crosses the door.

In the room directly above a couple are indulging in foreplay.

Above them hangs an ultraviolet insect zapper.

It flashes.

Two yards away upon a conventional cheap plastic lamp shade a large fly mutters. "Idiot." It turns, and finds itself face to face with a grey wall gecko standing on the ceiling.

"That's Lunch." people.

Idiot reviews

alloy_ — Sun, 25 Sep 2011 11:11:56 GMT

I get idiot reviews.

To be specific I get an idiot who reviews.

A single idiot.

Every story has a point, a focus, an intangible around which it revolves. It is the point of the story defines the form.

I recently watched a movie called Invictus. Obstensibly about the 1995 Rugby world cup, the focus of the story is nation building.

The storyteller (Eastwood) spends a great deal of time focusing on political rather than sporting events, and justifiably so simply because the Rugby was a tool in the hands of a statesman.

I could spend an extraordinary amount of time criticizing the accuracy of Rugby or criticizing achronisms, but I won't. simply because they are inconsequential to the movie, inconsequential to the focus. It was an excellent cinematic interpretation of a troubled inspiring period of history. Which was precisely the point.

My idiot reviewer seems to lack any ability to decern the point of a story, in a review almost as long as the drabble he criticized my failure to describe an generic hotel room, to describe the city in which the generic hotel room within which a "one word" event takes place. For failing to describe a saucy sex scene, when the whole point of the sex scene was the "one word" interuption thereof.

At no point does he mention the title conceit (good or bad), the point of the story.

This is typical Dunning-Kruger behavior from an idiot.

Rant over.

Instead we should have defined the weather, the skyline, the 70's style motel room with coin operated magic fingers ( no not really). We should have (in a 500 word R-rated drabble) descibed the sex in pornographic detail, and no doubt after painting an architectural picture of a magical hospital, every gruesome detail of childbirth in technicolour.

and at no point does he mention the title conceit (good or bad)

FB and Google

alloy_ — Thu, 22 Sep 2011 09:45:16 GMT

It appears that Facebook and Google are in a cold war of asshattery

Drabble. - Missing DH moment (sorta)

alloy_ — Wed, 21 Sep 2011 12:26:07 GMT

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7399913/1/
<lj-cut>

One Word.
By alloy (includes text taken from chapter of Deathly Hallows Chapter 23 - Malfoy Manor)

Malfoy Manor.

She thinks too much. She’s wondering where they’re taking Harry & Ron, curious as to Bellatrix’s obsession with the sword, pondering a way out of this dilemma…

“Crucio”

No thoughts, just pain, just screaming.

“HERMIONE!” (Ron bellowed, and he started to writhe and struggle)

Release, and curiosity.

Crazed cursing.

“Crucio”

And screaming.

“HERMIONE!”

Release, and wonder

“…Where did you get this sword? Where?”

“We found it.”

“Crucio”

A red haze.

“HERMIONE! HERMIONE!”

“You’re lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!”

Another terrible scream. Which she curiously recognises as her own.

“HERMIONE!” (Ron struggled harder than ever)

“What else did you take? What else have you got? Tel me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!”

“HERMIONE!”

“What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!”

(Hermione’s screams echoed off the walls upstairs, Ron was half sobbing as he pounded the walls with his fists)

Hermione felt the release without hearing his voice. He must have whispered it.

“CRUCIO”

“How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?”

“We only met him tonight!” she sobbed. “We’ve never been inside your vault. . . . It isn’t the real sword! It’s a copy, just a copy!”

“Crucio”

No release came this time.

“Crucio”

No screaming of her name.

“Crucio”

Darkness claimed Hermione even as she wondered what Ron and Harry were up to.

She remembered burying Dobby, remembered standing there with Ron’s arms around her, remembered feeling his arms twitch, his muscles spasm from the curses she had received.

“Ron” she had murmured over and over again, trying to take some of his sacrifice back.

Sydney, Australia.

They should, Hermione supposed, feel guilty. They should, that is Ron and herself, be trying to think of ways to locate her parents.

Instead they were making love.

She enjoyed Ron’s exploration of her body, enjoyed the touch of lips, the soft caresses of his fingers, enjoyed the slow escalation of her pleasure to it’s ultimate crescendo.

“Hermione.”

It was gone, her impending climax, stolen, but the look on Ron’s face, his unexpected pleasure, the fear of reaction, the guilt and apology had all been worth it.

Something to laugh about in years to come.

And sometimes she would invite him to whisper her name.

St. Mungos, London

“You’re doing very well Mrs Weasley,”

“Hermione.” Ron muttered into her ear.

“Almost there. Just a few more contractions”

“Herm….”

“Shsh love,”

He’d do everything she was sure, just like that long ago day at Malfoy Manor, he’d take all her pain into his lanky stubborn Weasley frame and never tell a soul, but, just like that day she would have to do the last bit herself.

“Push Mrs Weasley, PUSH!”

“Her….”

“Shutup Ronald!”

And then she pushed, and breathed and pushed, and in the end, the healer handed Ron their daughter and he soothed her with one word.

“Rose.”

Fin.

Eat Slugs

alloy_ — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 08:06:14 GMT

My Missing moment challenge is now available here

SIGNAL BOOST: SAY YES TO GAY YA

alloy_ — Sat, 17 Sep 2011 09:49:02 GMT

Originally posted by darkspirited1 at SIGNAL BOOST: SAY YES TO GAY YA

This comes from an article by rachelmanija entitled, Say Yes to Gay YA.
(click the link for the full article)

Our novel Stranger has five viewpoint characters; one, Yuki Nakamura, is
gay and has a boyfriend. Yuki's romance, like the heterosexual ones in
the novel, involves nothing more explicit than kissing.

An agent from a major agency, one which represents a bestselling YA novel in the same genre as ours, called us.

The agent offered to sign us on the condition that we make the gay
character straight, or else remove his viewpoint and all references to
his sexual orientation.

This isn't about that specific agent; we'd gotten other rewrite requests before this one. Previous agents had also offered to take a second look if we did rewrites… including cutting the viewpoint of Yuki, the gay character.

It's time to stand up and demand change. Spread the word everywhere if you are just as angry and outraged by this.

I have been sorted

alloy_ — Sun, 11 Sep 2011 07:21:29 GMT

RookUnicorn88 is a Hufflepuff.

The Rory Comic

alloy_ — Thu, 08 Sep 2011 10:11:32 GMT

Chased - a drabble

alloy_ — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 04:01:46 GMT

Her heart raced beneath her breast, she had, in a manner uncharacteristic for a Ravenclaw, gone to far in her harassment of the powers that be. The disappearance of her sister had emboldened her, though the Callows, it seemed, knew less of her whereabouts than Padma did.

Now they chased her, and she using every wit, every ouch of knowledge gleened in 6 years of living in this castle.

There was, around next turn, a long passageway. Traversing it would leave her vulnerable should her pursuers be closer than she hoped, but after that an alcove offered respite. She ran the passage at full sprint ignoring the pain in her side and the rasping in her lungs and ducked quickly into her hideaway. desperately she tried to calm her breathing, lest she be heard.

Suddenly a hand covered her mouth, an arm snaked around her stomach and she found herself being drawn into a dark secret passage.

"Make no noise." a voice warned, taking his hand away.

Outside the Callows came cursing and muttering and went as she held breath.

When they were gone Padma turned in the darkness reaching she grasped her rescuers shaggy black hair pulling his face down to reward him with a deep and longing kiss.

Neville tensed ready to pull away, when Pavarti's voice came from behind him.

"Relax Neville. My sister and I share everything."

Doctor Who

alloy_ — Sun, 28 Aug 2011 10:53:37 GMT

It's gratifying that all my storm swept American bints can seen what a Mini Should look like.

Writer's Block: Once upon a time…

alloy_ — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 08:21:21 GMT

Like a glowing jewel, the city lay upon the breast of the desert.

City and the Stars - Arthur C Clarke (1954)

Drabbling in Yahoo Messenger with Amy Jane

alloy_ — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 11:35:17 GMT

I got a complaint.

"You don't write in YIM anymore."

So I immediately popped 187 words....and the Amy fell asleep (I have this effect)

She did beta it quickly the next day and I published it in the usual places.

187 words in about 20 minutes.

Anyway, enough self promotion, drabble below the cut.

Ask Me First

by alloy (betaed by Harrysmom)

The trees were just turning green when her lover arrived, strolling through the front gates of the castle, bold as brass, the clasp on his heavy cloak signifying his rank as the lowliest of Auror cadets.

A man on the very bottom of the ladder, but a man on the ladder none the less.

A nod from the headmistress was enough to send her flying down the stairs. At the door of the great castle she pulled the ties from her hair, allowing it to fly free, the way he liked it.

Heedless of the stares of her fellow students she flung herself into his arms. He hoisted her effortlessly, spinning her around to the applause of the many on looking witches.

"What? Why? Ron?" She gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Professor McGonagall sent me an owl" He replied lifting his hand in silent salute to the head mistress.

"Told me about the ball."

Hermione's mouth was suddenly dry. That was four years ago, surely he hadn't remembered after all they had been through...surely not...not Ron.

"This time I wanted to make sure I asked you first."

Fin

Inspection.

alloy_ — Sun, 14 Aug 2011 08:19:09 GMT

The Headgirl's weekly inspection was conducted every Saturday in a room at the three broomsticks.

It was a catalog of scars, cuts, scrapes and bruises. Some told a history of the war, their history, others more recent, told of training and hardship.

Her caress would disappear bruises, a trail of kisses, knit a cracked rib, and mere wishing would drain fatigue from his limbs.

"And this gash Ronald?"

"Gash? That's hardly more than a scratch." Yet his skin had darkened in blush.

"What happened Ronald? Was it training?"

"umm no."

"You're going to tell me Ronald."

"It was Harry, we were horsing around, he pushed, and I lost balance...."

Hermione giggled at his discomfort.

"Silly sausage." she said. "This will be easy to heal."

"Why is that?"

"Because it was made with love."

Writer's Block: It’s the end of the world as we know it

alloy_ — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 11:11:29 GMT

Whether or not my knowing could save anybody else.

Wake me up before you Go Go.

alloy_ — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 11:03:35 GMT

oncelikeshari posted this entry about funeral music, which got me to thinking.

If one leaves this sort of thing to chance, some well intentioned buffoon is going to choose something hideously "Appropriate" from Hymns Ancient and Modern.

Actually you'll only get Hymns Ancient and Modern if you're lucky (as lucky as a dead person can be). It's more likely they'll choose something from "Mission" *gag* "praise" or FSM forbid something by those Australian Hill Song hacks.

So what would I choose for myself.

It's no good saying I want something upbeat, because my favourite music isn't necessarily upbeat, so what to choose?

Jim Morrison effectively wrote his own:

The movie will begin in five moments
The mindless voice announced
All those unseated will await the next show.

We filed slowly, languidly into the hall
The auditorium was vast and silent
As we seated and were darkened, the voice continued.

The program for this evening is not new
You've seen this entertainment through and through
You've seen your birth your life and death
you might recall all of the rest
Did you have a good world when you died?
Enough to base a movie on?

Some of my favourite songs are sadly inappropriate like Chris Rea's "Road to Hell" or John Mellencamp's "Martha Say"
Many of the story tellers; Springsteen, Mellencamp, Clegg , Jimmy Nail to name a few, sing brilliant songs, buts songs that do nothing to reflect me.

I could write something myself, get someone to put some music to it, and I may still do, but for now I'm going to put down a few tracks I think would reflect me and naturally irritate some people.

Edie Brickel's "Circle" comes to mind first.

<lj-cut>
Me, I'm a part of your circle of friends
and we notice you don't come around
Me, I think it all depends on you
touching ground with us but
I quit, I give up, nothing's good enough for anybody else
it seems
and I quit, I give up, nothing's good enough for anybody else
it seems
And being alone is the best way to be
when I'm by myself it's the best way to be
When I'm all alone it's the best way to be
When I'm by myself, nobody else can say goodbye
Everything is temporary anyway
when the streets are wet, the colors slip into the sky
But I don't why that means you and I are, that means you and I
I quit, I give up, nothing's good enough for anybody else
it seems
and I quit I give up, nothing's good enough for anybody else
it seems
And being alone is the best way to be
when I'm by myself, it's the best way to be
when I'm all alone, it's the best way to be
when I'm by myself, nobody can say
Me, I'm a part of your circle of friends
and we notice you don't come around

</lj-cut>

Followed by The Beatles "Here Comes The Sun" the classical guitar version.

*

I'm suddenly struck by the thought that a Disney show tune would serve both the purpose of irritating folks and reflecting my personality.

*

Or maybe a signature tune from an 80's show like Magnum PI or Hawaii five O.

Maybe I'll settle for Bobby McFerrins "Don't Worry be Happy" followed Guns N Roses "Don't Cry." and end with Crowded House's "Chocolate Cake"

Any Suggestions?

Apparently.....

alloy_ — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 09:24:55 GMT

Apparently I'm part of a posse that stalks idiots.

Paranoid oppressed idiots feel picked on.

Note to posse.

Stop!

Idiots once caught are no good to man nor beast.

Heaven help us if they breed.

Remember Midnight Confessions?

alloy_ — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 09:45:37 GMT

Does anybody remember Midnight Confessions.

I did some writing over Easter.

Chapter 28 is now published at a variety of archives.

We Promised Avatar A Treat If He Was Good...

alloy_ — Sat, 23 Jul 2011 08:03:24 GMT

We promised avatar a treat it he was good.

It was to be a surprise, but Mrs alloy had him watch DH1 while I was out cutting firewood.

Naturally he guessed, but we chose a cinema in Manukau and kept him guessing en route. The one bizarre thing I noticed about South Auckland is that people walk slowly. In general New Zealanders tend to walk fast. I work in the city and the only dawdlers tend to be wearing back packs. Those of us who are gainfully employed tend toward pace, even during the weekend.

This doesn't apply to South Auckland......and it's frigging annoying,

Anyway we eventually got into the cinema and WOW.

DH2 doesn't really let up for a second, and we really only time for exposition when Harry "Dies".

There appears to be a lot of subtlety in the acting, the body language especially amongst the trio deserves multiple viewing, and Ralph, Ralph is just superb.

My favorite bits:

Molly sorting out Bellatrix (applause in the cinema).

Neville (just about every scene he was in)

Seamus....I can do it.

Ron and Hermione:

Hermione rushing over herself to give Ron credit for the basilisk fang idea.

"Harry talks in his sleep"

The kiss, oh the kiss

Hermione's subtle indication of her holding hands with Ron.

The Severus flash backs.

MUST MUST watch it again.