huinare: (1/2)
I was thinking of posting this rant on the t-place, but I can predict how well that would go.  So the smaller, but generally saner and more responsive LJ community, gets to hear it instead.

I decided that visiting the actual novel The Silence of the Lambs was in order.  It's engaging enough, BUT: I have a big issue with the arguable transphobia happening in this book, which this blog expresses better than I could.  I'm not done with it yet so I'm unclear whether this unsavory overtone is couched in the author's own attitude, or that of the majority of his characters.
There is a character, Dr. Danielson, who appears briefly and seems to be a voice of reason and compassion; apparently his scene[s] was cut from the 1991 film version *figures*.  Dr. Danielson was played by Philip Bosco in the film.

The thing the blog I linked doesn't touch on much, which I found quite ridiculous as well as dangerous, was the idea that there is an archetypal transgender psychology, and that anyone who doesn't conform to it can't actually be a "real" transgender person; this is probably a reflection of the times (the book was written 25 years ago), but it still makes me livid.
huinare: (writing!)
Why does everyone have to put air conditioning on as soon as the sun comes out?  Can't anything ever be allowed to be warm for a while?

I get lethargic and violently angry when I'm cold.  Yes, both at once.

huinare: (Default)

Posted via

huinare: (raven)
The One Committee to Rule Them All nitpicked a document assembled by our co-chair last night.

Version A (original):
...purposes may be social, political, education, or institutional enhancement.

Version B (after correction by one ranking member):
...purposes may be social, political, educational, or institutional enhancement.

Version C (suggestion by yours truly, who is evidently too young and stupid to be listened to):
...purposes may be social, political, educational, or for institutional enhancement.

I was the only person under 50 in that room, and I was the only person who noticed that Ranking Member's Version B actually just made the adjective-modified noun at the end of the phrase stick out like a sore thumb.  Another Ranking Member went on to remark that "there are English grammar rules that no writer actually uses." 

I am a writer.  I use those rules.  My profs would dock me for not using those rules.  Things like this slowly eat away at my desire to remain within this institution which is in dire need of younger people to carry on its legacy. 
huinare: (i am the dragon!!)
which has given me
a leak or flooding of unknown origin on my floor,
an arachnid in my bathtub,
and maintenance people who break my picture frame, don't leave a note of apology, and fail to clean up all the glass on my floor.

STFU! =(

Dec. 22nd, 2011 08:27 pm
huinare: (curse)
You know what annoys me? People who whistle like a bloody tone-deaf teapot in public, loud enough to be heard over blaring piped holiday music AND blaring Requiem for a Dream soundtrack in my earbuds. If you need to do that, go do it in a creepy deserted field or something. So inconsiderate.
There is a darkly satirical plotbunny hopping around this issue. And it is NOT PRETTY.
huinare: (curse)
This rant has been brewing for about a week, ever since I got a letter from a particular Bloated Credit Provider (hereafter referred to as BCP).

Before I speak of the letter, allow me to explain my history with BCP: I have had a line of credit with them for roughly two years, the majority of which time I would use the card to pay my bills and occasionally buy something off Ebay, and would promptly make a full payment to bring the balance back to zero.
Over the summer, my carefully and dangerously teetering financial situation imploded due to a couple circumstances, and with it my sense of responsible duty. The situation necessitated the borrowing of a loan, which I had spent years cleverly avoiding. Since debt was now an unavoidable circumstance, I expressed my defeat good-naturedly by entering a month or two of lackadaisical money management. For the several ensuing months, I have been lamenting the three-figure outstanding balance. I have only been able to afford to pay about twice the minimum requirement, which, after the bill I still use the card for and the monthly interest accruing, means that each month I only make the smallest of dents in the outstanding balance.

BCP responded to this grievous and irresponsibly self-inflicted state of affairs by sending me a letter upping my credit balance and congratulating me on my “excellent” management of my credit.

I pray you pardon my rhetoric. It’s clear what’s going on here: Excellent = BCP profits off it.

Welcome to America, where waste and/or privilege are rewarded and compounded by BCP and its kindred, while the poor and empty-handed can be as responsible as they damn well please and never get so much as a nod.
huinare: (maiarin drama)
This morning when the alarm went off I snarled at it “Please kill me.” Evidently my hatred for mornings combined with general gloominess about some stuff that was keeping me awake earlier is sufficient to make me beg my own alarm clock for death. =P

I must also reflect, upon this so lovely day, that nothing annoys me more than loud, obnoxious, tuneless whistling in public places. If you need to do that, please go lock yourself in a soundproof box buried several kilometres beneath the earth. I would be grateful. It would save me having to mutter disturbingly under my breath re: removing and disposing creatively of all parts of your anatomy that aide in this noise pollution.
huinare: (Default)
Ever frequent a cafe where a couple of the regulars make you want to commit varied colorful acts of violence? I'm trying to read HASA fanfic, that's my new thing that I'm doing between semesters these days. Why do you have to ruin my cultural experience with your ignoble presence? One of you reeks of urine and never-washed flesh--yea, I smell it three feet away--and the other is a womanizing creep.

These douches come equipped with an expansive sense of entitlement. One time when I was occupying an armchair, they apparently wanted it for themselves, and His Pungeancy threw down newspapers dramatically on the tables flanking the chair. No dice. Next His Chauvency began kicking my legs 'accidentally,' swinging his feet about in an adjacent chair. Nope, sirrahs, not moving, and stop kicking me. We have not been friends since. This time they sat down with some woman nearby and somehow ingratiated themselves to her (lady, you should see how they behave when your back is turned), and I believe they were having choice words about me, irritated yet again that I did not vacate my chair to make way for the stench and rudeness of them.


huinare: (Default)

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