<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:22:31.716-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the gind speaks</title><subtitle type='html'>What's on my TV, my agenda, my mind.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>184</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-11290991</id><published>2002-03-30T18:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-30T18:22:43.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.googlewhack.com/"&gt;Googlewhacking: The Search for The One True Googlewhack&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminds me of that thing they had us do in the 5th grade, giving the letters of the alphabet values from 1 cent (A) to 26 cents (Z).  The goal was to come up with words with the value of a dollar.  I didn't have the patience to figure those out either, although I remember "squaws" was one of these "dollar words."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, it's a funky thing to do to waste time with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to my roommate (not the topless tuner) for the link&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-11290991?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/11290991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/11290991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#11290991' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-11188730</id><published>2002-03-27T17:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-27T17:45:46.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In this fixation of looking up random identities, I'd say that I need to get a life and then I find this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;A HREF="http://www.users.drew.edu/jleto/endless/"&gt;&lt;IMG SRC="http://www.users.drew.edu/jleto/endless/death.jpg" ALT="I'm Death!" BORDER="0"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;font face="courier new" size="2"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.users.drew.edu/jleto/endless/"&gt;Which Member of the Endless Are &lt;i&gt;You&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe what I really just need to get is a work ethic.  Back to the grind.  Happy Passover everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-11188730?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/11188730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/11188730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#11188730' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-11047927</id><published>2002-03-23T17:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-23T17:34:32.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://pages.prodigy.net/hpdevo/quiz/hermi.jpg"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://pages.prodigy.net/hpdevo/quiz"&gt;&lt;font face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="1"&gt;Which HP Kid Are You?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I appear to be Hermione on Anime crack.  Go fig.  Still, my heart belongs to Bill Weasley.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-11047927?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/11047927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/11047927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#11047927' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-10772760</id><published>2002-03-15T14:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-15T14:56:19.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You know you've been spending too much time thinking about your D&amp;D character when...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the phrase "spell check" conjures visions of a twenty-sided die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm serious.  I was working this morning in my screenwriting software, opened the "spell" menu and for a split second expected to find an option for metamagic feats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so sick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-10772760?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/10772760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/10772760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10772760' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-10719053</id><published>2002-03-13T23:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-13T23:05:58.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ah, the joys of being able to waste some serious time.  Thanks to &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog"&gt;WQ&lt;/a&gt; for the link.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, in my current campaign I play a chaotic neutral human sorcerer, so it's good to know I'm not trying to be myself. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I Am A:&lt;/b&gt; Chaotic Good Half-Elf Bard Thief&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;u&gt;Alignment:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chaotic Good&lt;/b&gt; characters are independent types with a strong belief in the value of goodness. They have little use for governments and other forces of order, and will generally do their own things, without heed to such groups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;u&gt;Race:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Half-Elves&lt;/b&gt; are a cross between a human and an elf. They are smaller, like their elven ancestors, but have a much shorter lifespan. They are sometimes looked down upon as half-breeds, but this is rare. They have both the curious drive of humans and the patience of elves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;u&gt;Primary Class:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bards&lt;/b&gt; are the entertainers. They sing, dance, and play instruments to make other people happy, and, frequently, make money. They also tend to dabble in magic a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;u&gt;Secondary Class:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thieves&lt;/b&gt; are the most roguish of the classes. They are sneaky and nimble-fingered, and have skills with traps and locks. While not all use these skills for burglary, that is a common occupation of this class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;u&gt;Deity:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hanali Cenanil&lt;/b&gt; is the Chaotic Good elven goddess of love, beauty, and art. She is also known as the Heart of Gold and Lady Goldheart. Her followers delight in creation and youth, and work to spread happiness, love, and beauty. Their preferred weapon is the dagger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Find out &lt;a href='http://www.students.uiuc.edu/~ellingwd/dndwho/index.html' target='mt'&gt;What D&amp;amp;D Character Are You?&lt;/a&gt;, courtesy of&lt;a href='http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=neppyman' target='mt'&gt;&lt;img height='17' border='0' src='http://img.livejournal.com/userinfo.gif' align='absmiddle' width='17'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href='http://www.livejournal.com/users/neppyman/' target='mt'&gt;NeppyMan&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;a href='mailto:ellingwd@uiuc.edu'&gt;(e-mail)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-10719053?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/10719053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/10719053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10719053' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-10478070</id><published>2002-03-07T00:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-07T00:19:34.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.rain-street.org/fightcrime.htm"&gt;They Fight Crime!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay okay.  So I'm still not getting work done and I'm an incurable lover of random stuff generators.  Check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's a bookish white trash werewolf with nothing left to lose.  She's a hard-bitten insomniac traffic cop with an MBA from Harvard.  They fight crime!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-10478070?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/10478070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/10478070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10478070' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-10477852</id><published>2002-03-07T00:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-07T00:12:33.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.seventhsanctum.com/gens/"&gt;The Page of Generators&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WQ chided me for not making an blog entries, and since it wasn't like I was getting any writing done today anyway, I figured I would point to this wonderous time waster.  Be sure to check out Bookspinner under the equipment sub-heading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-10477852?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/10477852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/10477852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10477852' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-9048368</id><published>2002-01-25T17:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-25T17:02:09.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, so I'm back in the groove of the new semester... more or less.  I mean, I had Monday off this week which means that I had class last Friday and then wasn't back in again until yesterday (Thursday), so that's not much of a groove, and now my computer is semi on the fritz and I dropped my I.D. someplace and I'm really hoping someone turns it in because good lord not having it is a pain and I don't want to have to get all of my little stickers again, not to mention getting my picture taken.  But other than that, I'm in the groove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got out of 514b also known as "rehashing ideas for a feature yet again until one is permitted to write them in a few weeks."  No, I'm kidding, it's not that bad.  Class went pretty well today and my stuff was even on the block, so this is all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my latest little obsession in D&amp;D, which is not good because it means I'm creating characters in three worlds, for my feature, my sit com and now the campaign, which at least I'm not running so I only need to come up with one character background and motivation for that, and she is chaotic neutral, so when all else fails and I don't know what to do I guess I could just do something random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And WQ has gone home, which is sad, but we had a nice visit which is not sad, and I think we also managed a visit where we have little if any stuff to talk about the fact that we didn't talk about it while we were actually in the same state. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's bright and sunny today and I'm going to get out of this basement now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-9048368?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/9048368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/9048368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#9048368' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-8265856</id><published>2001-12-29T22:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-29T22:30:18.290-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wanted to say something a couple of days ago, but Blogger wouldn't let me log in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I can log in, but I can't think what I wanted to say, but I'm putting in a random posting because I haven't done anything in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-8265856?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/8265856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/8265856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8265856' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-8136853</id><published>2001-12-22T23:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-22T23:58:01.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So what is the state of the 'Scape?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the good news is that the show has been picked up for at least two more seasons.  The bad news is that the pick-up took so long to get, it will be April before we get to see the end of season 3, even though it's already in the can.  I suppose better to delay gratification now than later, but... Okay at least it gives me something to write about in the mean time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is the state of the 'Scape, versus this time last cycle?  Well, keeping in mind that this would have been &lt;b&gt;before&lt;/b&gt; all of the machinations of Liars, Guns, and Money, let's have a look, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, the Moya Bunch:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jool&lt;/b&gt;: This time last cycle?  Frozen.  Hard not to be looking up from that starting point.  Sure it's been a rough year, but where there's life, there's hope, and there's a whole lot more life now than before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chianna&lt;/b&gt;: Approximately one cycle ago she had just learned that her brother was not in fact dead, and that the really nasty VD she'd picked up from her last visit to the state-approved OB-GYN was actually a tool for controlling the galaxy.  Plus, she was trying to do the rational grown-up thing and ride out D'Argo's angst-fueled mood-swings.  Now, no news on the brother front, still battling the Luxan highs and lows, and just might be the rational adult on Moya.  Overall: largely unchanged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;D'Argo&lt;/b&gt;: D'Argo, D'Argo, D'Argo.  What is going on in the poor man's head?  Realizing this is of course the calm before the storm, at least now he's not frantically worried about his son being sold into slavery.  That's an improvement, right?  However, the guy has got some issues which are not being dealt with in a healthy manner.  He's over Chiana; he's jealous of anyone else who looks at her.  He's John's buddy; he wants to kill him.  This is not good.  Not good at all, but it could easily get much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;John&lt;/b&gt;: He's much less crazy than he used to be, and he's not dead yet.  This is a good thing!  On the down side, relationship with Aeryn is close to as messed-up as we've ever seen it, and that's saying something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile on Talyn: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although they have now rejoined Moya and the rest of the not-so-merry band, spending half a season on their own has led to a certain amount of cliquishness.  Since the split there has been much turmoil, but we will just have to imagine the long, expository conversations taking place at various reunions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Talyn&lt;/b&gt; himself appears to be overcoming some of his more homicidal tendancies, at least where his own crew is concerned.  Well, we don't know what's  up with Crais and the nasty  lesions, but he's not trying to harm anyone else as far as we know, so this can probably be taken as a sign of maturity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rygel&lt;/b&gt; is Rygel is Rygel is Rygel.  I'm sure someone will insist that he has undergone a profound transformation this season.  Probably the same person who will point out I didn't say a word about &lt;b&gt;Pilot&lt;/b&gt;.  Tough.  I don't get paid for this; I can include and leave out what I choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for &lt;b&gt;Stark&lt;/b&gt;, a cycle ago he had just come back from a mysterious  trip  around the galaxy bearing news of Jothee.  Now, he's just left in search of Zhaan, and except for a guest spot on &lt;i&gt;The Lost World&lt;/i&gt;, hasn't been seen since, not even at the convention.  Likely though, he'll be back in a bit, and no doubt bearing news to drag everyone into another adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Crais&lt;/b&gt; has managed to loose just about any chance of getting into Aeryn's pants in the near future, but was that ever what he was really after?  ...Okay, yes it was, at least to some extent, but surely he's got other plots up his sleeve.  According to him, this time a cycle ago he was busy digging through secret PeaceKeeper files, or guiding Talyn, or something or other.  Don't know  how long his skin condition has been a problem, so hard to make a guess on that front.  Oh hell, like we ever know anything about the Captain since he stopped with the "You killed my brother, prepare to die!" schpeil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Aeryn&lt;/b&gt;.  Pfew.  Is it better to have loved and lost, and then gotten back, kind of, than never to have loved at all?  I guess we'll all find out.  In the past year Aeryn has watched John go insane, then gotten killed by him, brought back to life by Zhaan, watched Zhaan die, seen John get "twinned," worked through a whole pile of issues with one of them, met her mother (which is a whole other set of issues, including that she killed Talyn, her father), let Crais kill &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt;, seen John defeat his inner Scorpy and find a route back to earth only to have &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; die, go to get blindingly drunk in reaction to that, only to run into a man claiming to be her father and not dead after all.  But, of course  it wasn't her father, it was someone in pay of her mother (who wasn't dead as it turned out) pretending to be her father, so that she (Xahlax) could kil him (not Talyn) in front of her (Aeryn).  At the end of that whole thing Xahlax falls off a very high ledge of a building, and God help me, if she's not dead this time, I really &lt;i&gt;will&lt;/i&gt; stop watching the show.  Because of course when Aeryn gets back to Moya she runs smack into the fact that there is still the other John Crichton, very much alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, this is a show about John.  Sure.  Right.  Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side note: Obviously, killing someone one time on FarScape just doesn't do the job.  Durka, Nerri, Xahlax, Crichton, Aeryn, Stark, etc. etc.  All have come back from apparent (sometimes acutal, clinical) death at least once.  But is there an upward limit?  Is the third time the charm, or is it like cats?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about the other &lt;b&gt;John&lt;/b&gt;?  Had a lot of really good sex with Aeryn, got Scorpy out of his head, and discovered how to make a stable wormhole.  Then, he died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the &lt;b&gt;moral of the story&lt;/b&gt; boys and girls?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get too happy on this show.  You're asking to get it in the neck.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though that isn't necessarily the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-8136853?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/8136853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/8136853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8136853' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-8036751</id><published>2001-12-18T23:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-18T23:36:04.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey, what do you know?  I go home to see my parents and discover such quality things as: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://homepage.ntlworld.com/paulspeller/onlinetest/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://homepage.ntlworld.com/paulspeller/onlinetest/bond.gif" alt="[If I were an online test, I would be The James Bond Villain Personality Test]" title="Click to find out which test you are" width="300" height="180" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm &lt;a href="http://www.physics.usyd.edu.au/~mar/villain.html" target="_blank" title="Click to take the test that I am"&gt;The James Bond Villain Personality Test&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;I live in a fictional world of spies and blonde women with ridiculous names, and I like to give people plenty of options. Although whether they're villainous is not optional.&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://homepage.ntlworld.com/paulspeller/onlinetest/" target="_blank"&gt;Click here to find out which test &lt;b&gt;you&lt;/b&gt; are!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or at least that's what I 86% am. Another bit of internet synergy with the girl who gave me my handle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm considering going ahead and doing the season 3 "State of the 'Scape Address" since we aren't going to be seeing the end of the current season until April now, I figure it's my bit for keeping up viewer interest.  The three people who will read it are (I am sure) waiting with baited breath.  And, this will be my excuse to write two in one year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-8036751?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/8036751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/8036751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#8036751' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-7975573</id><published>2001-12-16T17:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-16T17:52:02.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey.  I got all of my stff emailed off to my professor.  Yay me!  Still don't quite believe that the semester is over and I'm going to be writing with new people and a new prof (who has a reputation for ascerbicism) in the spring.  Now, I'm at my parent's place, where I will be for three weeks and I'm kind of wondering why I felt obligated to stay for so long.  I wonder if my parents will start wondering as well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, had a thankfully uneventful flight in which I read about half of &lt;i&gt;Shadow of the Hegemon&lt;/i&gt; the latest addition to Card's Ender saga.  (Anyone out there remember when it was the Speaker Saga, and Ender was just the first book?)  Anyway, the book is not so wonderous, but I kept myself amused with the thought that if these kids had spend ten more years in Battle School, Bean would have come out just like Aeryn Sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm here though, I'm in the full press to finish &lt;i&gt;The Fellowship of the Ring&lt;/i&gt; before Christmas, when the family will go see the movie because we always go to the movies for Christmas, this being the traditional amusement for Jews (as the movie theater is the only thing in town staying open on the 25th).  However, I have noticed in years of late, theater crowds have been larger than the entire Jewish population of the county could account for.  *sigh* another ethnic tradition co-opted by the white Protestant majority.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-7975573?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/7975573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/7975573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#7975573' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-7784972</id><published>2001-12-09T17:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-09T17:26:57.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am tired.  I am really, really tired.  Being a student is hard work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in the middle of breaking down a feature script into a scene by scene outline which is exactly as easy and fun as it sounds like.  This has been a great, tough, mind-boggling semester, and I'm trying to figure out whether I'm on a two-year or a three-year plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Hanukka everyone. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-7784972?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/7784972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/7784972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#7784972' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-5257978</id><published>2001-08-23T15:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-23T15:47:09.953-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Watched &lt;i&gt;The West Wing&lt;/i&gt; last night and something occurred to me.  It's a good show, sharp, well-written, with a really good cast.  There's just one thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that Mr. Arkin is convinced that women are strange and fairly incomprehensible creatures who do things for reasons that fully rational beings do not understand.  And I actually don't have a huge problem with him thinking that.  He's not a woman, and I'll admit that I think men are pretty weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What bothers me is I don't think it has occurred to him that women are not incomprehensible to everyone.  He's confusing the way he sees the world with the way things are.  I realize this is a lot to say on the basis of the couple episodes of this show that I have seen, but again, it's not necessarily wrong that he shows the world this way.  You can't &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; write the world the way you see it.    The crux comes when you try to come up with a show that doesn't adhere to this point of view.  The only show I will give full points to letting both genders be people all the time would be &lt;i&gt;Buffy the Vampire Slayer&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you say the world is a certain way enough times, it starts to feel like the truth, even to females who feel pretty darn rational most of the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-5257978?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/5257978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/5257978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_08_01_archive.html#5257978' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-5169993</id><published>2001-08-18T23:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-18T23:43:34.473-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I made it.  At least, I've made it this far and that's a good start.  I'm in L.A., my stuff has arrived, with minimal damage to all concerned, and I'm starting to believe that this huge transition is actually happening.  It's amazing how long something that has been in preparation for close to a year can take to sink in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As expected, I have discovered that there are more things to deal with to get myself squared away at USC than I thought, or rather, I have discovered that had I done certain things earlier I would be able to have other things taken care of by now, namely I could register, but on the other hand, I am not in a situation where I have to worry about my spots in classes being taken.  At least, I hope I don't.  It would be fairly dishonorable for one of my future classmates to take my spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad left for Texas today, so this is my first night alone in the new apartment.  Luckily I've had practice with this in Boston, but it's blowing my mind the sheer amount of space I've got here.  There are two bedrooms, a livingroom that no one is going to be regularly sleeping in, the dining nook and kitchen, two baths, plus a little porch and more storage space than I've seen in some houses.  I'm not kidding, here.  I'm really looking forward to my new partner in crime (or whatever, still working on a catchy handle for her) to arrive.  Flight due in a week from Monday, so I'll have a week to settle in, but then someone to talk about classes with.  Strange thought that might be for both of us.  She's done the screenwriting program as an undergraduate, and I'm not sure what the differences between that and what I'm doing are going to be.  Although there have got to be differences, right?  All in due time I suppose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-5169993?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/5169993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/5169993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_08_01_archive.html#5169993' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-5036730</id><published>2001-08-11T16:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-11T16:40:39.580-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm on my way!  I'm in Texas now, at my parent's house, and tomorrow Dad and I start driving out towards L.A.  What an insane adventure.  All of my stuff is in boxes and is somewhere in the terrifying grip of UPS, and we'll see what is left when it arrives, hopefully the day after I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much other news.  I'm trying not to give myself an ulcer and to keep track of all the things I have to turn in and mail before I can get money from the government and be a full-fledged student at USC.  Probably no updates for a little while now, at least not until I get a little bit settled, and find out how to dial into whatever I need to reach to get on the internet in the new place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-5036730?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/5036730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/5036730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_08_01_archive.html#5036730' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4910592</id><published>2001-08-04T18:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-04T18:38:01.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I write this surrounded by boxes and half-packed suitcases.  I'm not sure whether I have a lot of stuff, or none at all.  I hate moving.  I believe that going to California is the right thing for me to do, and at the same time I think that perhaps leaving the Topless Tuner is a huge mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or no, not mistake...  I don't think this is creating a great rift between us that can never be breached, but I'm going to miss her so much.  Not just her cooking, but everything.  I like the flat-mate-to-be a lot.  I think that we'll work out living in the same apartment and have a great time, but I also know it won't be the same, and I'm not so dense not to realize that I have something very special here.  We talk about living in the same city again someday, terrorizing the staff at an old-age home.  At the least, we're already planning to meet in Vancouver this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the Tuner's birthday Tuesday.  I'd like to write her a little story for a present, but I don't know what she'd like.  (Oh yeah, that makes us sound like a miracle of syncronicity.  Allow me to rephrase, I can't think of anything to write that I think "that's what Zoe wants to read!"  Fan friends are much easier to write for.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4910592?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4910592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4910592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_08_01_archive.html#4910592' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4638378</id><published>2001-07-20T10:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-20T10:28:42.680-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today is the day.  It's my last day at Harvard.  Not the next to last day, not the last full day.  It really is the last day I will be working here.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's kind of weird.  I'm looking forward to what comes next, but it's still a little scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4638378?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4638378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4638378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4638378' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4582675</id><published>2001-07-17T13:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-17T13:06:28.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, so I'm FarScaped up to "Relativity" and so one of the first things I go and do when I've seen a glut of episodes is to go read the reviews.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One reaction has suprised me quite a bit.  More than one reviewer has been speculating or even insisting that Xhalax Sun is not dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't get the argument.  Aside from the fact that Crais has &lt;i&gt;no&lt;/i&gt; possible reason to let her live, it's like we've forgotten what series we're watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the show that offed Durka in an aside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while the writers love to mess with our heads, they do not play with punching emotional buttons.  They follow through on trauma.  They don't put characters through the emotional grinder and they say, "but we didn't really mean it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Xahlax isn't dead, almost the entire episode is a cruel tease.  I know, I know, Aeryn wasn't really dead, and Stark has come back, so what's the difference?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, first of all neither Aeryn or Stark was in a position where the story demanded that they had to die.  I mean, I guess someone had to die on the giant floating hubcap, but the Plakavians were a one-shot deal, not really integral to the arc.  If they didn't kill Xahlax now, they would have to do it later, and no writer is going to want to cheapen this episode by telling the story twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, we brought Aeryn back, but the characters had to pay a high price to get her.  Namely, they lost Zhaan.  So life from death is not something that happens lightly for characters residing in only one plane of existance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I had more to say, but I'm just going to go ahead and post the darn thing.  Imagine my eloquence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4582675?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4582675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4582675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4582675' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4579867</id><published>2001-07-17T10:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-17T10:00:53.490-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thanks for the &lt;a href="http://www.salon.com/ent/tv/feature/2001/07/17/tv_syndication/index.html"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog/2001_07_15_edictsarchives.html#4579271"&gt;WQ&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I have a justification for all this TV I've got taped!  I'm preserving a cultural legacy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4579867?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4579867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4579867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4579867' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4526601</id><published>2001-07-13T16:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-13T16:43:11.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, it was a hell of a phone call.  It was good though.  And the weirdest part is that I just called WQ last weekend and we talked for almost two hours  Still, it felt like we hadn't been in touch.  How does that happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I've just finished what is technically a second draft of a FarScape script, and it howls.  I just know it.  I am simultaneously sure of the following points: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.It's too short.&lt;br /&gt;2. It's too short, except where it's bogged down by lame-o expository dialogue which should be cut.&lt;br /&gt;3. Except in the bits where the characters are running around doing things that make absolutely no sense to the reader, if it were even theoretically possible that someone would read past page 3.&lt;br /&gt;4. If USC saw this, they would take back their offer of admission &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; send back my non-refundable deposit, as they would be wiping all record of my existance from their system.&lt;br /&gt;5. I am completely insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will notice today is not the day that I am actually going to read what I've just finished writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is nothing so simultaneously cool and hellish as finishing a draft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog"&gt;darling&lt;/a&gt;, I made a blog entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4526601?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4526601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4526601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4526601' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4418082</id><published>2001-07-06T23:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-06T23:42:52.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I should go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I've had a houseguest, since the 4th, and this is the first time since he arrived that I've had time to myself when I wasn't at work or writing at home.  And I just need a little space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird enough having a guy over here.  I move in a world of women.  It's not made less complicated that six years ago we dated at summer camp, and we talked about it, and he now explicitly knows that I'm not interested in a romantic relationship...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he used my towel by mistake and he pulls this wounded puppy act on me, and it just... it bothers me that that he got so akward and upset about it.  We couldn't laugh it off, and it's stupid.  It also bothers me that he used my frelling towel.  I said "red" he heard "pink."  There is the stiff and obviously used washcloth and the "fluffy fresh out of the dryer" washcloth.  How insane is this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need space.  I need sleep.  I need some good news, and time to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss WitchQueen and the Topless Tuner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4418082?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4418082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4418082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4418082' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4360823</id><published>2001-07-03T13:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-03T13:03:47.363-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh, and I was virtuous enough to get my recording done yesterday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4360823?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4360823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4360823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4360823' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4360589</id><published>2001-07-03T12:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-03T12:47:34.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"At least one show, "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," was rejected after &lt;br /&gt;it showed itself to be immune to the drug office's worldview.&lt;br /&gt;                                   "Drugs were an issue, but it wasn't on-strategy. It was&lt;br /&gt;                                   otherworldly nonsense, very abstract and not like real-life kids&lt;br /&gt;                                   taking drugs. Viewers wouldn't make the link to our message," says&lt;br /&gt;                                   someone in the drug-policy office camp who read and helped reject&lt;br /&gt;                                   it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.salon.com/news/feature/2000/01/13/drugs/index.html"&gt;full article on Salon.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a wonderful mental image of some befuddled guy in a suit earnestly explaining how &lt;i&gt;Buffy&lt;/i&gt; doesn't relate the real world because "there aren't vampires in the real world.  Kids won't relate to that"  I guess that while they recognize that TV plots are more subtle than public service announcements, metaphors are still off the deep end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a problem with paying networks to play-up anti-drug messages.  I really have a problem with networks not telling the people making the show why they are suddenly pushing "down on addiction" so hard.  However, I don't believe that mass entertainment can ignore that it has the power to influence as well as entertain.  I've seen &lt;i&gt;Birth of a Nation&lt;/i&gt;, I recognize that it expanded the film narrative envelope.  I just don't ignore that it's racist propaganda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the episode of &lt;i&gt;Sports Night&lt;/i&gt; that I'm pretty sure they got paid for.  It was a good story.  They even mentioned legalization of marijuana.  I'm thinking someone in Washington is pretty literal-minded, because there's some fairly subversive stuff even if it is "on message." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But is it any different than a product placement?  Except that it's harder to see who's selling what?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4360589?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4360589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4360589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4360589' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4349849</id><published>2001-07-02T19:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-02T19:54:38.756-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I promised John Cook I'd do some voice recording for him when the weather cooled off.   Well, it's officially cool now, and I really should do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just, can't seem to make myself sit and get it done.  I've got other voice-work waiting, but...  I don't know.  I think being in such a holding pattern.  Waiting to move.  Waiting for school to start.  Worrying about not having a place to live in L.A.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss living with someone.  I got a letter from Zoe today, but it's weird.  I mean, I come home from work, and I don't &lt;i&gt;talk&lt;/i&gt; to anyone.  I go hours and the only person to gab with is me.  I'd call an out-of-state freind, but I'm trying to lay off the long-distance a little bit.  And even there my options are limited by people on vacation, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm going to be a good girl and get to work now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not a total slacker.  I got my three pages done today.  Of course, they might be total crap, but that's a question best left for tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4349849?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4349849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4349849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4349849' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4340881</id><published>2001-07-02T09:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-02T09:14:38.083-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.salon.com/ent/feature/2001/06/30/gay_trek/index.html"&gt;Gay People on Star Trek&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is an interesting topic.  It deserves to have an article written about it, or ten.  However, actually watching the episodes that one is writing about would be a good thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In "Rejoined" is was Dax who had been in a male host in their previous relationship, and while there is a legitimate argument that Jadzia and Lenara were not lesbians, it was also more complex than two women being led by their bellies.  (I believe it is Jadzia who points out that the two of them have more in common than Torias and Nilani ever did.)  I actually think Star Trek does a decent job of showing that Trill sexuality (if not human) is more complicated than a binary gay/straight set-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do your research.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4340881?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4340881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4340881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4340881' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4287298</id><published>2001-06-28T14:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-28T14:13:15.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Check me out, I made a &lt;a href="http://gradwriter.blogspot.com"&gt;new blog!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4287298?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4287298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4287298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_06_01_archive.html#4287298' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4287182</id><published>2001-06-28T14:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-28T14:05:30.510-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's too damn hot in this city.  Fifteen and a half days left at work, but who's counting?  And that's the news.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4287182?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4287182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4287182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_06_01_archive.html#4287182' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4248673</id><published>2001-06-26T09:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-26T09:48:31.596-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I figured out what to say about Endgame.  It was fun to watch, at the same time, god it was stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we spend all this time hanging out with a future that itsn't going to come to pass, but it so horrible becuase Seven is dead and Tuvok is insane that we have to go back in time and give the Borg a leg-up on technology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then... And then, after our lovely and not-so-subtle theme about home being where the people you love are and what you make of it we don't even get to see the actual homecoming?  No Harry with his parents, no Tom reconciling with his father in person, Seven's aunt who fed her strawberries, B'Elanna's parents or maybe the grandmother who fed her bananna pancakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last shot of a series should be emblematic, leave us with some sense of what the show was about, or at least what it should have been about, or where they might be going now that we will not be in on the adventures.  In The Next Generation we were looking down at the senior officer's weekly poker game, where Picard had finally joined in.  Deep Space Nine started looking in a window on the Promenade where Jake and Kira looked out and then went into the mother of all pull-backs until the station we had explored for seven years dwindled to an infinitesimal speck.  Like them or not they were powerful and memorable images.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voyager had the ship, and Earth.  It looked like an establishing shot before you hear someone saying, "X's Log:"  So maybe it was emblematic after all.  They found their way home, but didn't find their heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4248673?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4248673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4248673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_06_01_archive.html#4248673' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-4039758</id><published>2001-06-12T18:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-12T18:40:42.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I knew I had said something about the Buffy Finale.  It was just hiding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-4039758?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4039758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/4039758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_06_01_archive.html#4039758' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3775602</id><published>2001-05-24T09:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-24T09:55:36.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yes Shanie!  I am so glad to know I'm &lt;a href="http://www.la-ex-heds.com/shaniezak/archives/2001_05_13_archive.html#3686351"&gt;not the only person&lt;/a&gt; out there who watches crappy movies to see someone playing an obscure part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I have a little time to kill, some of the highlights: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because Michelle Forbes was it in: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Escape from L.A.&lt;/i&gt; actually fun in a cheezy kind of way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Swimming with Sharks&lt;/i&gt; gack, ick.  I resent watching a movie to see an actress whose character gets killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Kalifornia&lt;/i&gt;  Starring Brad Pitt, Juliette Lewis, David Duchovney, and Michelle Forbes.  That last was the only one I had heard of the first time I saw it.  Oh, give me a break, it was before the X-Files.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Homicide: Life on the Streets&lt;/i&gt; Hey, I didn't say I only wound up watching projects of questionable quality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the prize goes to &lt;i&gt;Pitch Black&lt;/i&gt;.  I got a cheap ticket, and Claudia Black was in it.  It seemed like reason enough to go check it out.  Claudia Black was good.  Of course, she died in the first 20 minutes of the movie.  See note above for &lt;i&gt;Swimming with Sharks&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going off on this little bit of self-indulgence because blog spot is still down, so it's not like anyone can see what I've said anyway.  Plus, I'm still figuring out what to say about Voyager's "Endgame."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3775602?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3775602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3775602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3775602' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3761074</id><published>2001-05-23T10:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-23T10:22:34.383-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Death is the Gift that Keeps on Giving&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gave me insomnia.  Not because I was so disturbed by the facts of what just went down on Buffy last night, but because the episode was so damned good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In case you hadn't guessed, major spoilers are coming.  Stop reading now if you're still waiting to watch the tape.  I mean it, don't be spoiled for this one.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This episode was the most perfect example I've ever seen of all the clues being there, and still coming together as a surprise.  And it wasn't just the thing with the blood, which was wonderfully well-done.  (I confess, all this talk of Dawn's blood made me think of her slicing herself open, but I didn't make the connection to her substance and Buffy's being related.)  But this has been the season of Slayer mortality.   Remember the big flashback crossover in November?  I take pervese pride in saying at the time, "Oh my God, Buffy is going to die."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But again, who would have predicted that it would end up this way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to leave the office soon, but some quick notes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Glory was wondering around being very disoriented following Willow's attack, she said, "Big day..." very much a la Tara.  Does that mean a little bit of Tara was left in her?  Does that mean that there's a little bit of Glory in Tara?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we know why Wolfram and Hart aren't trying to end the world this season, can't save the world twice in two hours.  And either &lt;i&gt;Buffy&lt;/i&gt; would have been dimished, or &lt;i&gt;Angel&lt;/i&gt; would have been anti-climaxtic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Angel&lt;/i&gt; turned in a strong hour not to be ignored, and a much-needed break, although not totally light either.  The shows are complimenting each other wonderfully, but who would have thought that Willow sitting on a couch, not saying a word, could turn the who hour around so drastically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excellent stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3761074?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3761074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3761074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3761074' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3729405</id><published>2001-05-21T12:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-21T12:24:56.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>For those worried that the writer's strike non-event would be foiled by the actors walking out in July... &lt;a href="http://www.sag.org/contract2001/index.html"&gt;SAG and AFTRA&lt;/a&gt; don't seem that worried.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3729405?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3729405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3729405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3729405' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3729011</id><published>2001-05-21T11:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-21T11:53:08.066-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Many many moons ago, like back in season 1 or 2, Chris Carter addressed the topic of Mulder and Scully getting romantically involved.  Now, this is not a direct quote but I think he said something along the lines of, "They'll never get together.  Think about it, if they fall hopelessly in love, why would they ever go off chasing monsters and government conspiracies when they could stay home and frell?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Chris Carter himself is married, or at least was at one point, yet also manages to hold down a crazy and life-consuming job, one might be driven to speculate about his personal life, but there are places that the gind just does not want to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so last night, the torch was passed.  Mulder and Scully can go ahead and get together, they have Doggett and Raiez to go around chasing monsters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to that I say a mighty "Whoo hoo!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now now, put away all of those sharp objects.  It's not like I believe for a second that Mulder and Scully are not going to be on the show.  I would feel differently if I thought they were actually leaving, but I like Doggett and Raiez a lot, and having four neat-o agents is better than two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Episode High Points&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doggett says to Mulder, "Have you ever thought about when you are going to get a life?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raiez says to Scully, "Miss Scully, I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;points that were not so high&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every viewer of the X-Files eventually has to decide when the intricacies of the conspiracy are too much for them.  I have just reached mine.  Workers for the conspiracy want Scully dead, or just her baby, or something.  Alien replacements want Scully's baby, no wait, they don't want it after all.  Everyone is switching sides so quickly I've got whiplash and it's a miracle the aliens are getting anything done in their campaign to colonize Earth, assuming they want to anyway.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And was that light in the sky a helicopter, a UFO, or the Star of Bethlehem?  It certainly seemed to attract enough bystanders, although the three wise guys tactfully waited until Scully got the hay out of her hair back home in D.C.  That's Chris Carter for you: mysterious as all get-out, but not exactly subtle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Truly Amazing Thing&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that in all the confusion, the episode hit some beautiful character moments.  To whit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Kryceck's death:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; who wasn't saddened that we'll never know just what he was trying to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scully and Raiez:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; "You remind me of my sister."  "You're beautiful."  Whatever was going on, these women have lovely chemistry together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mulder and Scully:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Sometimes, you just have to let the technicalities go and declare paternity.  If the baby looks like Mom, who's going to argue?  Though it's worth pointing out that William was &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt; father's name too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And in all this, the moral of the story&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has any episode of any other series managed to be so shippy and slashy &lt;i&gt;at the same time?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still wish that the baby had been a girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3729011?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3729011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3729011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3729011' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3703525</id><published>2001-05-19T12:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-19T12:04:54.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Do the dance of joy!  The first cut of the "Breathless" video is done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This means there are a couple of little hiccups I want to fix and then mix in the actual music.  Then it's done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3703525?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3703525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3703525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3703525' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3689953</id><published>2001-05-18T12:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-18T12:13:52.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am so lame... or just bored out of my frelling mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is only so much time I can waste at work without giving myself carpel tunnel.  Seriously, I go to work and type or play on the internet.  Then I come home and write, or &lt;a href="http://www.sev.com.au/toonzone/sevtrek/movie/crew.asp"&gt;make recordings&lt;/a&gt; on the computer, or play on the internet, and my wrists were going to start protesting eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I don't get out of the house and do other things.  I do, honest. I just don't do them as often as I do the things I just mentioned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3689953?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3689953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3689953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3689953' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3673795</id><published>2001-05-17T11:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-17T11:41:20.733-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>P.S.  Anyone wanna sponsor me in &lt;a href="www.aidswalkboston.org"&gt;AIDS Walk Boston&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3673795?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3673795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3673795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3673795' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3673218</id><published>2001-05-17T10:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-17T10:58:49.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Voyager...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penultimate episodes are a tough call. DS9 got around it by having a nine-part series finale, thus taking the pressure off the last episode aired before the headlong run to the end.  TNG took the opporutnity to tie off the Engisn Ro loose end with "Preemptive Strike" while slying giving themselves a couple of openings for the Voyager Premiere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voyager is left in the unenviable position of not having much to do.  They don't have a million minor characters they have to take care of before the end; there are no overarching themes they have to prepare themselves to resolve in the final 2-hour episode.  So the writers made a wise choice: they tried to give their regular cast interesting things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the doctor madly dashes through the ship, impersonating his fellow crew-members, I couldn't help being reminded of early DS9 episodes, where every Dax story seemed to be designed to put her in a coma, and give her friends cool things to do.  Fortunately, we didn't have to have the Doctor passed out on a table in order to see some pretty good renditions of Janeway, Chacotay, and Torres imitating the Doctor imitating them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I think some of my favorite moments were those that did &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; revovle around the Doctor and the Packleds of this part of the galaxy.  Tom and B'Elanna got to have a sweet relationship moment, practically for the first time since Lisa Klink stopped writing for the show.  (Come on, who didn't go "awww" when B'Elanna said, "Oh, you replicated potato salad.")  When the demands of the plot don't require that B'Elanna be completely and inexplicably insane, the two of them have very sweet chemistry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(As an aside though, I think that Tom looses some husband points for not realizing he wasn't kissing his wife.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is why I watch Voyager. (I mean, apart from force of habit.)  There were some great special effects in this episode, and those are fun to watch, but please, it's only about 10 seconds of the finished episode.  The main point is that someone cared enough to write an interesting sequence that required half-formed holograms jumping through glass.  You will notice that this episode (while it was not perfect) did not contain a single reference to "what would Starfleet do" narry a stultifying briefing, and some genuine mystery and suspense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Captain is clearly not herself, and everyone who figures out what's going on winds up in the morgue.  I would have liked to have seen our endgames play out more simultaneously, without the loss of tension that comes from solving one problem and then having to go off and solve another one mid-way through, but the bottom line is that at every level from writing, through the performances, and post-production, there was some care that went into this one.  It was not the best TV I've ever seen, it wasn't even the best Voyager I've ever seen, but it came close to finding it's heart, and without that, the show is just so much dead air.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3673218?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3673218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3673218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3673218' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3658135</id><published>2001-05-16T12:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-16T12:59:44.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Fresh Veggies from the Frog&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, faithful viewers, last night was the night when Buffy and Angel looked around them, looked at themselves, and decided that they just couldn't deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buffy spent most of her episode last night in a catatonic state.  And I have to say, that after all of the running around, and brain sucking, and wacked-out knights, it was a bit of a let-down.  Glory has The Key.  The World is Going to End.  We should be charging towards the cliff at full speed, and instead we get an episode of introspection.  Glory is waiting for the confluence of something, although what exactly is a tad obscure. (The season finale perhaps?)  I guess it's a good thing she didn't find out it was Dawn earlier because she would have had to have kept her in a box until the time was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, Glory and Ben arguing with each other as Ben becomes perhaps even more dangerous to Dawn than Glory is neat.  And Spike trying to walk the Gang through the whole "Ben is Glory" thing was a riot, but... following the flow that we've been in, it just doesn't quite mesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angel hadn't been moving at such a break-neck pace, but I have to admit I'm having a hard time caring what goes on in The Host's dimension.  We came to rescue Cordelia, but now we're stuck so we'll have Angel explore his human and demon sides, but now we're wrapped up in this whole religious plot, and wait... whose head is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's not dead.  I don't believe it.  Largely because I have had it up to here with people getting killed or retreating into the shadowed corners of their minds this year!  When Richard Manning called FS's season Premiere "Season of Death," he didn't know the half of it.  Let's do a quick tally, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on Buffy:&lt;br /&gt;Joyce - dead, stone cold as the proverbial door-nail.&lt;br /&gt;Tara - brain sucked, outlook unclear.&lt;br /&gt;Dawn - discovers she's not really alive, attempts suicide.&lt;br /&gt;Giles - seriously wounded, moving deathbed scene, then recovered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angel: &lt;br /&gt;Wesley - seriously wounded, now recovered.&lt;br /&gt;Kate - attempted suicide, came close, now set to appear on Law &amp; Order.&lt;br /&gt;Cordelia - implications of slipping health due to migrains courtesy of the PTB.&lt;br /&gt;The Host - went home, lost his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FarScape:&lt;br /&gt;Aeryn - dead, but she's better now.&lt;br /&gt;Zhaan - dead, really dead.&lt;br /&gt;D'Argo - briefly suicidal, now just pretty morbid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voyager:&lt;br /&gt;Carey - back from obscurity, now dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;X-Files:&lt;br /&gt;Mulder - abducted, then dead, then better.&lt;br /&gt;Scully - everyone who wouldn't die for her, wants her dead, or her baby dead, or both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is not that most of these characters ultimately survive, the point is, I'm burned out on angst.  If we're not actually going to have a bloodbath, then let's stop pretending we are.  And if we are going to have one, could we please just get on with it?  I like dark, plotty arcs as much as anyone, but when four series hit it at the same time, it's just a bit much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could say more, but it's time to leave the office.  Party on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3658135?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3658135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3658135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3658135' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3638304</id><published>2001-05-15T09:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-15T09:32:51.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A great Miracle took place last Sunday.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something I never thought would take place on the X-Files.  Not in a million episodes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DD delivered a voice-over, and it didn't sound like he was in a coma.  My jaw hit the floor in disbelief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Other Points for the Episode&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just so damn cool.  This is, in my opinion, what the X-Files does best: gets the conspiracy working at breakneck speed while our intrepid agents run around doing their darndest trying not to get run over.  When it's really working, you don't even notice those little annoying details that don't quite make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point against the Episode&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They didn't get it going &lt;i&gt;quite&lt;/i&gt; fast enough.  I mean, I'm sure I'm not the only person who sat there, as Mulder and Doggett calmly discussed someone trying to "eliminate loose ends," screaming, "Who cares about Dr. what's-his name?  He's going to try to off Scully!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, come on guys.  Get on the ball here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Scully's Goddess Status-Check&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the season premiere, Scully was positively divine.  Sure, she was carrying a miracle baby, but that was secondary to proudly carrying on the torch in the face of adversity, not to mention sticking it out on the show while her co-star bailed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Mulder first returned, and she started showing, Scully went into a bit of a decline, as evidenced by the "let's not tell her what the hell is going on" policy implemented by Doggett and Skinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this episode, things improve.  This is "everyone loves Scully" similar to what we saw on &lt;a href="http://the-gind.blogspot.com/archives/2001_03_01_the-gind_archive.html%232601886"&gt;FarScape&lt;/a&gt; when everyone thought Aeryn was all dead, as opposed to mostly dead.  Drop everything to protect Scully is behavior we expect from Doggett, Mulder, and Skinner... but Rat Boy?  Someone at the Order of St. Scully has been lighting a lot of candles lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;note&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some might expect me to be dope-slapping Mulder for sending Scully off with the man who killed his father, her sister, and tried to get Skinner to kill her baby, but for a short period, when all signs point to your interests coinciding, who would do a &lt;i&gt;better&lt;/i&gt; job of making damn sure that mom and baby make it to Agent Ruiz's car?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a bit like &lt;a href="http://scifi.ign.com/tv/6663.html"&gt;leaving Dawn with Spike&lt;/a&gt; to keep her safe from Glory.  Except that Spike has a chip in his head.  Okay, maybe it's not the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;while I'm on the subject&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Monica.  Scully likes Monica.  I guess Mulder and Doggett do too, but it seems a bit of a stretch to fly her up from New Orleans to take care of Scully.  Did I miss something here?  I wouldn't trust the one-armed assassin to deliver her baby, but that leaves three other available and local candidates.  Do we need a woman for this?  I approve of female OB-GYNs.  I have one.  But I wasn't aware that this fell into our agent's field of expertise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And finally, the Moral of the Story&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is far too much speculation about Scully carrying a little boy.  If it's human, I'm betting on a girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3638304?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3638304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3638304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3638304' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3590898</id><published>2001-05-11T10:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-11T10:57:04.653-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In case anyone was wondering, the one-two punch alluded to the title of my last post refers to Mulder's firing followed by Scully's maternity leave.  I think I had intended to say something about that when I started the review.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3590898?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3590898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3590898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3590898' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3590793</id><published>2001-05-11T10:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-11T10:50:59.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;X-Files: The One-Two punch&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this past week the X-Files came close to resolving one of the great mysteries of the series.  How did Mulder and Scully get out of Antarctica anyway?  But no, instead we had some Mulder/Scully banter.  I don't object to Mulder/Scully banter as a matter of course, but this was the last nail in the Mary Sue coffin, and I didn't think it was all that funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was the weird part of this episode.  For a Monster of the Week show involving a man turned lizard (what is it about people turning/evolving into lizards?  I want to do a poll of crazed scientists.  How many of them, if they could become anything, would choose a reptile?  At least this guy didn't have to go past warp 10 to do it.) Anyway, for a MOW, there were all these moments that were kind of... silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all knew that Agent Fandom was in trouble from the minute she showed up.  She's a blonde and blondes don't do well on the X-Files.  (Okay, I take that back, no one does well on the X-Files.  If you see your life starting to intersect with the basement office of the FBI, run the other way.)  But Agent Fandom was sadly all she was.  She spouts random information, she finally makes the intuitive leap that's actually *right* and then, she decides to leave.  What was the point here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from that, there were some lovely character moments, especially for Doggett.  I gotta admit it, I like the guy, and wish him luck for the next two weeks.  He's going to need it.  Hey, they're all going to need it.  And special bonus to the sweet moment of naivte at the end:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silly Doggett, as though Scully is going to have her baby in a hospital.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3590793?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3590793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3590793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3590793' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3590310</id><published>2001-05-11T10:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-11T10:23:23.566-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://aouie.net/nik/transit/lasd.html"&gt;The Ride of a Lifetime&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to get back at my boss (who isn't even here, but if he wants to see things lapse, I'll let them lapse!), and to find out about the great city which I will be gracing with my presence in a scant three months, I ran across this link.  As a transit rider who is going to break down and get a car (oh, poor choice of words there...) it warmed my little heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3590310?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3590310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3590310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3590310' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3562154</id><published>2001-05-09T10:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-09T11:16:41.576-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I admit it, I was so distracted by how much I hated "Natural Law" or whatever they are calling Chakotay and Seven wandering around in the woods while no one on Voyager even realizes that they are gone, I completely forgot to say anything about it, let alone post my wondrous review of "Friendship One."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The latter first.  Those still avoiding spoilers, be warned:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Oh My God!  They Killed Carey!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that was pretty much it, and although I was going to expand on it and other TV things, I just got an e-mail from my boss that really shouldn't have gone to me (IMO) about how he needs someone to take care of his needs all the time because so much that "has never lapsed in his career" has gone to heck in this transition.  And this is pissing me off, because I am sitting here, and I can do things, but I CANNOT read minds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3562154?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3562154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3562154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3562154' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3449257</id><published>2001-05-01T12:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-01T12:02:35.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A Great Confluence of Screenwriting and Grant Deadlines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we wait for the west coast to wake-up and see if there is any new breaking news from the &lt;a href="http://www.wga.org"&gt;Writer's Guild&lt;/a&gt;, I got a grant out to the NIH, and going downstairs to buy chocolate as a reward, stopped by the HUCTW table to vote for our new contract.  What a day to be in a union, I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later today, I will mail my screenplay out for a fellowship competition.  The Irony is not lost on me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3449257?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3449257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3449257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3449257' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3379471</id><published>2001-04-26T12:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-26T12:20:41.786-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Moya Administration (part 3): The First 100 Days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five episodes into the Season of Death we're almost over the season premiere hump and since it will be a while before I get a new tape from my dearest mother, it seemed like a good time to stop and ponder some imponderables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(...like what it is about FarScape that leads me to make comparisons to American politics.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Friends, New Friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how anyone watches FarScape without a VCR.  Maybe no one does.  But I rewatched Self-Inflicted Wounds last night, and discovered two things: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  When you know what's going on, the episode *can* be followed and events make something very close to sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Zhaan's final speech is much more moving when your mother isn't sitting beside you saying things like: "I thought we only had seven microts?"  "Isn't the ship going to blow-up or something?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the big thing that came out of this episode is that Zhaan is dead.  Really, quite dead.  Dispersed into little pieces dead.  Oh wait, Stark and Maldis both did okay with that.  Let's not mention the dispersed into little pieces part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And coming aboard the ship is the dominatrix Barbie presently known as Jool.  Poor Jool, no one can pronounce her name (not even her own cousin), abused by colleagues and fans alike, she just serves to illustrate one of the huge reasons why there is so little FarScape fanfic written: these people eat Mary  Sues for lunch.  Oh forget that, these people will eat almost anyone for lunch.  Anyone else noticed that the only plans they come up with that go off &lt;i&gt;as planned&lt;/i&gt; are the ones that can be summed up, "...and then we blast the hell out of anyone coming through that door"?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(FarScape Survival Note #1: if strange trans-dimensional wormhole leaves you stranded on Moya, hang out in hallway until able to recruit native guide.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on to point 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Character trends - Three men in a tub, or ship of fools?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Crichton&lt;/b&gt; spent year one getting his ass kicked all over the Uncharted Territories.  Year two was pretty well filled with going insane.  Now, he's embracing his inner Scorpy (or at least calling a truce) and kicking the search for wormholes into high gear.  Yes ladies and gentlemen, our boy is on a quest!  Yee-haw!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;D'Argo&lt;/b&gt;.  D'Argo, D'Argo, D'Argo.  He was one of the few cruising along at the season finale, and what a crash and burn it has been.  But is the Luxan warrior wallowing?  returning to his kick-ass roots?  No he is not!  Heavy-D is thinking.  And he is thinking a lot.  Hey, if the best you could do resulted in your finacee sleeping with your kid, you'd probably go on a reflective self-improvement kick too.  Good luck to him, and let's hope he stops being quite so morbid before someone has to listen to Luxan beat poetry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chiana&lt;/b&gt; is one person who should be really glad that &lt;b&gt;Jool&lt;/b&gt; is around because now there is someone else for the rest of the crew to heap abuse on. :)  Seriously, Chi is very much Chi these days, which is just as it should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Aeryn&lt;/b&gt;  Okay, now I have no insider info to back this up, but watch the former PK, and not just because she's armed, dangerous, and wears leather pants.  What was starting to come out in Liars, Guns, and Money is becoming more and more apparent.  When we first met Officer Sun she spent most of year one wishing she was still blowing things up.  Year two was wrapped up closely with John, before and after it was obvious he was going insane.  Now, with John heading off into personal quest land, D'Argo twisted around in his head, and Zhaan dead, Aeryn is stepping up as the coordinator, keeping the gang's machinary moving in the same direction.  The woman is coming dangerously close to getting a "plays well with others" on her next evaluation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it is cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sooner or later, she is not going to be the only person on the ship with her dren together, and then Aeryn is going to have to figure out what she wants to do with this life she's been given, first by Crichton, and again by Zhaan.  Look for Crais' return to drop a major bomb on her world.  (As her non-death will have quite the impact on his.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the truly scary part?  The thing that says more than anything else how frelled-up the world of FarScape is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aeryn might just &lt;i&gt;be&lt;/i&gt; the happiest soul among them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*shudder*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave it at that... for the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3379471?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3379471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3379471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3379471' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3331066</id><published>2001-04-23T11:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-23T11:49:07.146-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, I did it.  I've started telling people at work that I'm going to graduate school.  Indecision 2001 has been resolved after talking to the guy at UT and deciding that program really wasn't right for me, and my deposit to USC went in the mail today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot say how much better I feel having that out of the house.  I'm still nervous over some things, but it's *done*.  I'm really going.  And that is so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The great thing is that I'm telling people and the universal reaction is, "That's great!"  Even the woman I share an office with took a while to get to wondering about posting my job.  But the support is great.  I haven't told my other boss yet, but that's because he's out of the office.  The things you miss.... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3331066?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3331066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3331066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3331066' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3272702</id><published>2001-04-19T08:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-19T08:53:32.370-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Indecision 2001 continues.  If it was good enough for America, it's good enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also fighting off a head cold, so got to take advantage of the fact that I have sick leave earlier this week, and my mom just dropped into town.  I love my mom a lot, but is this the best timing for her to have a really good time in Boston?  I dunno.  At least it has stopped snowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missed all but the last ten minutes of Voyager last night, and have Buffy and FarScape to catch up on.  Fun week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3272702?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3272702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3272702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3272702' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3188425</id><published>2001-04-13T12:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-13T12:31:55.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey, just to really get my head spinning, I might not be going to L.A. after all.  Got an offer from the U.T. department of Radio-Television-Film.  A professor there read my script for the multi-genre program I applied to, (didn't get a spot), but now they want me for theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really cool, but Ack!  Now I have a decision to make!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3188425?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3188425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3188425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3188425' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3158210</id><published>2001-04-11T11:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-11T11:50:31.550-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have nothing to say.  Or rather.  I have plenty to say, but don't feel like expounding at the moment.  But I'm still here.  Didn't watch X-Files last night.  It will happen.  Sometime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3158210?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3158210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3158210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3158210' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-3143053</id><published>2001-04-10T12:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-10T12:40:24.716-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, so I've been out of the blog loop for a while, and for no good reason that I can think of except that I've been spending time at work researching what kind of camcorder I want to buy, or *gasp* &lt;i&gt;working&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And besides, WQ called a little while ago and found out my thoughts on the X-Files live, and since I figured she was the only person still reading this, motivation to get that review up kind of took a nose-dive.  Hey, if you're reading this and you aren't WQ, there's this cool little link to the left called, "speak to the gind" that would be my e-mail address.  Drop me a line.  It could just be a blank message.  I'm not necessarily begging for feedback, just morbidly curious.  Since I'm such a terminal lurker myself, I don't feel able to insist that anyone actually send me a &lt;i&gt;message&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, my camcorder has been ordered, and I've got another week to stew before it shows up.  And I thought the stewing season was over.  Yes, there will not be another five months of application angst showing up in the fall.  We can all look forward to two  years of classes-stress.  That's right.  I've been accepted into the M.F.A. program in writing for cinema-television at USC.  (Insert big and hearfelt "yippeeee!" here.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what did I think of the X-Files.  Well, I've got the new one on tape, so I'm going to watch it and do a double whammy, hopefully tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring has spring here, and hopefully at other appropriate locales in the northern hemisphere.  Have fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-3143053?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3143053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/3143053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3143053' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2985599</id><published>2001-03-29T10:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-29T10:49:36.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I'm only half a slasher, but couldn't resist joining in the &lt;a href="http://www.brunching.com/cgi/toy-cyborger.cgi"&gt;fun&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                    T.H.E.G.I.N.D.: Transforming Hydraulic Entity Generated for Infiltration and&lt;br /&gt;                                        Nocturnal Destruction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my god is that funny.  &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog"&gt;WQ&lt;/a&gt;, aren't you glad I'm not sleeping in the same room now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2985599?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2985599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2985599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2985599' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2970725</id><published>2001-03-28T11:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-04-10T12:29:54.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Not Space, Not Soap, Just Opera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the next two days, I have seen as much &lt;i&gt;FarScape&lt;/i&gt; as anyone else in the United States who lacks connections to the powers that be in Australia.  You didn't think I was going to let the season premiere pass without comment did you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all knew this was space opera.  But during the past two episodes the term "operatic" has been thrown around by more than one reviewer, and &lt;a href="http://scifi.ign.com/tv/6455.html"&gt;Diana Estigarribia&lt;/a&gt; contends that "Suns and Lovers" was getting downright soapy.  But what if FarScape had neither space nor soap, but a full orchestra, plunging necklines, and a cast of thousands.  (Hey, we're already one for three!).  What if it was an opera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plot's in place already.  The explosion of the D'Argo/Chiana/Jothee love triangle makes the last act of &lt;i&gt;Lulu&lt;/i&gt; look tame.  Aeryn Sun rises from the dead; Zhaan sacrifices herself to save her; John battles insanity.  Next week, Voltron emerges to stand in front of a rock and sing about the history of the galaxy for an arn or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we assign everyone their voice-range various plot developments become even more logical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't John and Aeryn just live happily ever after?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Well, John &lt;/i&gt;is&lt;i&gt; a classic leading-man tenor, and if Aeryn were a soprano that would be that.  But face it, she's too dark to be anything but a mezzo, and mezzos are magnets for tragedy.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's this weird vibe going between Aeryn and Crais?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;He's a baritone, the partner she was born for.  Luckily for everyone but Crais, she can be more.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did we all know the D'Argo and Chiana wouldn't last?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;As though a bass and a soprano could find lasting happiness together!  But keep watching, the jury is still out to see if Zhaan and Stark prove that a contralto and counter-tenor can make it work.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what's the moral of the story?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although we have been tending towards the Wagnerian lately, what with the multi-hour plots and angst overdoses, opera can also be light comedy and farce.  So while D'Argo's wedding plans may be off, and Aeryn and John have declared that they will both guard their chastity in service of higher ideals (for the time being at least) perhaps soon we will find a magic spring to revive Zhaan and the fortunes of our heroes will improve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2970725?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2970725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2970725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2970725' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2956087</id><published>2001-03-27T11:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-27T12:15:05.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.dailyanxiety.com/teams.shtml"&gt;The Daily Anxiety&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go read this poem, and laugh mightily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2956087?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2956087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2956087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2956087' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2954670</id><published>2001-03-27T10:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-27T10:19:18.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Boston Globe just published an article on &lt;a href="http://www.boston.com/dailyglobe2/086/nation/Seeking_a_senioritis_cure+.shtml"&gt;senioritis&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is much hemming and hawing from various parties about holding students accountable and the terrible things that will come to pass if high school becomes only a 3-year academic experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As someone who only had a &lt;a href="http://www.simons-rock.edu"&gt;2-year high school experience&lt;/a&gt;, I find that kind of funny.  There is nothing fundamentally vital about being in high school for four years.  I suspect that spending a senior year partying may not be the best way to prepare for college, but please, it's not three years versus four that should be the issue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2954670?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2954670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2954670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2954670' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2954017</id><published>2001-03-27T09:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-27T09:18:52.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm back.  I'm even talking.  Which is good because &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog"&gt;WQ&lt;/a&gt; is probably wondering if I have lost all ability to communicate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that we don't talk.  We talk a lot.  Can't shut us up.  Can't shut me up anyway.  Did we talk about any of the things I had stashed away in my brain under "things to bring up when I can actually see this girl?"  Well, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it wasn't a bad visit.  I had a lot of fun, and we did cool stuff.  But it just feels a little... odd now.  And I hope I'm not the &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog/2001_03_25_edictsarchives.html#2941467"&gt;thing&lt;/a&gt; that she can't talk about yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.  If my life were an opera, I'd be a mezzo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2954017?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2954017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2954017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2954017' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2841434</id><published>2001-03-19T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-19T08:44:23.213-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, it's Monday morning again, and I'm back on the blog.  But I am not back at work.  This would be the whole point of my vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, not it's not.  I am realizing that it is only part of the whole point of my vacation.  The other would be to see WQ.  I haven't actually seen her since November, which is over four months now, and although we have been on the phone it's not quite the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have prezzies for her, and I can't wait to see her this evening.  And her lack of incredible enthusiasm the last time I spoke to her is something I am going to put off to the fact that I woke her up.  If she is as zoned out the next time I see her, I will be crushed though, so be warned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news I am officially the person that no one can talk about FarScape to.  My mother was commenting on how frustrating it was that I had not seen the premiere last night.  I told her to call back in 24 hours and the situation would be cleared up.  What's amusing is it was just like talking to my source, who knows more than she can say, and so we have conversations that go:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  So wouldn't it be cool if they did X?&lt;br /&gt;Her:  *non-committal hmm*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing we have other things to talk about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2841434?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2841434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2841434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2841434' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2803690</id><published>2001-03-16T09:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-16T09:24:39.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today is Friday.  Usually that means that I bolt right out of bed, lunge for my closet and grab my jeans, taking advantage of the fact that our office has decided to declare casual Fridays (although given our rather loose interpretation of "business casual" this is a bit of a joke).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I've recently acquired a pair of black jeans, which I have deemed nice enough to wear on other days of the week, making the jeans on Friday not such a big deal.  Also, I wear them practically every moment that I am not at work, so the novelty is not exactly a big thing.  And, this morning my new shoes were just begging to be worn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, not only am I not wearing jeans, I am wearing an actual skirt, which is a pain because it has no pocket for my ID, so I've got it clipped to the bottom of my shirt in a little plastic pocket, like I work in a high-security govenment facility or urban public school.  My entire outfit has been assembled to allow me to wear my shoes, because I'm on vacation next week, and cool as they are, they are not going down the eastern seaboard with me, and it seems somehow wrong to make them go more than a week and not wear them out in public.  It occurs to me how terribly sad all of this is.  Especially since the shoes are new, read: not broken in, read: hurting my heels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, do I need a vacation. Three and a half hours to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2803690?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2803690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2803690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2803690' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2779961</id><published>2001-03-14T17:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-14T17:53:06.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Really, I do think when I'm not watching television.  Honestly I do, I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had an admin meeting at work today where we learned that one of our office people is going to go cooridinate the Botswana project &lt;i&gt;in&lt;/i&gt; Botswana, and that another one is going to go back to school in the fall to get his master's in English with a concentration in Poetry.  Frankly, it made me depressed, not because I don't have cool plans, because I do, but none of them are in the sort of state where they could be announced to the rest of the department like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And work has been a double drag lately because I've been busy with making travel arrangement for myself on my own time and then for other people while I'm at work.  It somehow takes the fun out of my own trip-planning.  Also, many of the people I had hoped to pop by and say hi to are either incommunicado or busy with other things.  But my itinerary is set, the tickets are purched, and after only two more days of work I can be on my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is a very good thing.  So after work I went out shopping because I decided that I had come to the point where I needed to stop talking about getting new shoes and actually get some.  So I did.  Found a couple of tops while I was at it.  I never really liked shopping for clothes before.  It's still not my favorite activity, but it is somehow qualitatively changed (for the better, nach) now that I am spending my own money.  Before I felt like I had to be passionately in love with something in order to buy it.  What was so frustrating for my mother is that I just don't get all that passionate about clothes.  So when we went shopping she would have to listen to me hem and haw until the cows came home and went to bed.  Now, I can just figure if I will get more enjoyment out of something than I would out of spending the money on something else.  And I don't have to drag anyone with me; although the Toples Tuner is good to have for a second opinion.  (Surprisingly, since she has always struck me as a very practical person, it seems that one of her primary rules of shopping is: "If it's red velvet and on sale, buy it!")  Since I'm in all likelyhood about to go into severe debt for grad school, it seems wise to spend money now while I have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So having clothes and new shoes is good.  I even have a new charge card now, which seems silly but was good for another 10% off.  A nice fat envelope from USC or Tisch really would have capped off the day nicely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, when I got home, the mailbox was empty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2779961?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2779961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2779961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2779961' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2757713</id><published>2001-03-13T09:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-13T09:19:16.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, dear, since it sound like you've been &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog/2001_03_11_edictsarchives.html#2744666"&gt;busy&lt;/a&gt; I suppose I can forgive you for putting off the FS stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that does not mean I am above mentioning that I have put in my latest revision on the one I have been telling you about for months and printed up a copy to bring with me when I visit.  Let's talk databases when I arrive, the body count is still evolving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2757713?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2757713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2757713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2757713' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2704100</id><published>2001-03-09T09:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-09T10:09:12.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ahoy!  Voyager review ahead!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit it.  I have a bit of an angst junky streak.  I wouldn't like Aeryn Sun or Ensign Ro so much if I didn't.  Come on, tall, dark, and dangerous aside, they both give Angel a run for his money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I was not exactly pleased, but touched with the revelation the Doctor gives Seven at the end of this episode.  "Want to become more human?  Well, unfortunately, it will kill you."  I'm not going to look too closely at it.  Not going to question why the death of One didn't send her over the edge.  Truth is, I figure that it could be explained away if one really tried, and I'll give them that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even better, they didn't cheat at the end.  The Doctor thinks he can revamp her cortical implant (although technically, isn't it Icheb's?).  And Seven says, "No, thank you.  I'd rather not neatly solve this at the end of the episode."  Good for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all of that almost makes up for some of her frankly embarrassing Barclay-esque behavior in the rest of the episode.  I think it's very poignant that she wants "a life" but at the same time isn't ready to risk it with real people.  But Seven also usually thinks more than did in this story.  She wasn't especially pleased that the Doctor was plugging her into his fantasies, but I guess that's why he doesn't show up in hers.  (Note, Picardo plays a very nice note of almost-jealousy when the Doctor finds out that she had chosen Chakotay as a love interest, over himself.)  And while I will believe that she could get distracted enough to forget when she was on duty, I thought it strained credulity to have her leave astrometrics right after Janeway had specifically told her not to, &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; the ship was in danger.  Perhaps this is an effect that Marina Sirtis frequently complained about: a female character's perceived intelligence is inversely related to the amount of cleavage she is showing.  And my, she was showing quite a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think something was just off on the pacing.  The teaser of Seven playing piano was just a visual gag and not a particularly interesting one at that.  I will bet money that an earlier draft cut to the credits following Seven's summons to the bridge during the baby-shower, which is where the holodeck set-up is revealed.  After noticing that, I was looking for evidence that the episode had been stretched a bit thin, and while I didn't catch blatant transparency, the episode lacked a certain driven quality that shows up in the tightest hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This episode had nice moments.  It also had cringe-worthy ones.  Someone was desperate to get Jerri Ryan into that dress, but they made a nice finish of it-even if there was a whiff of the dreaded reset button in the air.  And oh yeah, Voyager somehow wandered into a munitions testing range.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Moral of the Story?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See your medical professional at the first sign of cortical implant headache and you might be able to keep your personal life personal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2704100?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2704100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2704100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2704100' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2688992</id><published>2001-03-08T10:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-08T10:16:01.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Oh dearie, this is &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/wq/2001_03_04_archive.html#2663177"&gt;not good&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or rather, it is good.  It's excellent work.  Trouble is, you start writing about the warrior twins, and I read it at work, and then I get so uninterested in what I'm supposed to be doing, like making travel reservations for people to come here and teach the next generation of public health professionals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tonight is Purim, a night of costume, rejoicing, and revelry.  And I was a very good girl and came into work on Tuesday even though everyone else looked out their window, called the school info line and said, "yeah right."  And no word yet from grad programs.  My motivation is nill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voyager review is coming.  I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2688992?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2688992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2688992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2688992' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2657336</id><published>2001-03-06T10:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-06T10:59:07.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Snow Day!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would be yesterday.  Of course today, the day it is actually snowing, Harvard is only on a 2-hour delay, but still.  I haven't had a snow day since I left Virginia.  Not a real one anyway.  Once, senior year at SR they cancelled all classes before noon, but my earliest one was at 12:30, or maybe I didn't have any that day anyway.  I never had class that year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday the Topless Tuner and I are stuck wracking our brains trying to figure out what to do with ourselves.  Because not only were we both off, but we had gotten up early as usual, so had a whole day at home starting at 7am.  I thought she was going to be climbing up walls.  I can write at home, but we don't have a piano so she can't practice or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we baked cookies, watched the weather on the news, stared at the ceiling, stared at each other, talked about nothing, read our books, made lists of things we should buy, wondered about how cool it would be to have three feet of snow on the ground in the city...  You get the idea.  I did get some writing done, but I think we are both glad she could go in and do some work today.  I would have been just as glad to stay home, but if it's messing around on the computer at home or here, I guess it's not so bad.  I didn't have to wait hours for a bus anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2657336?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2657336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2657336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2657336' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2601886</id><published>2001-03-02T11:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-02T11:57:10.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't do week to week commentaries on &lt;i&gt;FarScape&lt;/i&gt; for various reasons.  The most obvious one is that I don't see it week to week, and reviewing a whole glut at once some time after they have actually aired has always struck me as a bit excessive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However (you knew there was going to be a "however," didn't you?), as the world waits for the new season--and as the season finale really did demand that &lt;i&gt;something&lt;/i&gt; be said--I thought now would be an ideal time to make my own &lt;b&gt;State of the 'Scape&lt;/b&gt; address.  Just to take stock of how everyone is doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will say this right off: things do not look good for our intrepid adventurers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First things first &lt;b&gt;Aeryn Sun.&lt;/b&gt;  This time last year she was in her Prowler, simultaneously hiding from a hoard of hostile craft and trying to get a chance to rescue John and the newly unconscious D'Argo.  To make matters more complicated, Moya had just split the scene.  Little did she know those would be looked back on as good times!  Approximately one cycle later she's been written off as dead by her nearest and dearest, and in deep freeze waiting to give the gift of life through organ donation.  And adding insult to near death, the Prowler was not only totalled, but blown to bits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But take heart!  In another cycle she can hardly be &lt;i&gt;worse&lt;/i&gt; off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up: &lt;b&gt;John Crichton&lt;/b&gt;.  Last year he was floating in space (with a chip in his head!) next to an unconscious Luxan.  This year he's a blithering amnesiac (without a chip in his head!) trapped in a room with a dead doctor.  Despite the chip-ectomy and abundance of breathable air, I think we have to consider this an overall decline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for &lt;b&gt;Ka D'Argo&lt;/b&gt;?  Well, physically at least we've had an improvement.  D'Argo is now fully conscious, not floating in space, and he's found his son!  Not bad for a cycle's work.  He's got plans to retire to the old homestead, or a new homestead, or something, and is for the moment blisfully ignorant of how this is not Jothee's idea of a good time.  And so we leave our dear Luxan (swordless), not content, but most immediately worried about how he is going to ask Chiana to marry him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if &lt;b&gt;Chiana&lt;/b&gt; does not have enough to worry about.  She narrowly avoided getting splattered against several walls in the past four episodes (due to various liars with guns who were trying to get their hands on some money) and now due to Pilot's trippyness, D'Argo's secret is out.  That the Luxan wants her to be his bride would probably be unsettling enough, but she seems to be in the process of falling hard for his son.  Last cycle?  She was only angsting for other people's trauma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rygel&lt;/b&gt; may be the big winner for the year.  He's booked passage home, and although it just can't be that easy, it beats starbursting off to parts unknown with the Peacekeepers hot on your tail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Zhaan&lt;/b&gt; is feeling quite a bit of pain these days, mostly &lt;b&gt;Pilot&lt;/b&gt; and &lt;b&gt;Moya's&lt;/b&gt;, but they both seem to be on a slow road to at least partial recovery.  And &lt;b&gt;Stark&lt;/b&gt; wants to tag along now.  Despite dispersion, he's had a pretty good year, up to potential regular after disappearing without a word following "The Hidden Memory."  However, whether this will be in the plus or minus column for Zhaan remains to be seen.  She likes the guy,  and he may not be as crazy as Scorpy thinks he is, but balanced he is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but this was a good sequence to be a villain.  The blue things in his head may be cooling rods, but &lt;b&gt;Scorpius&lt;/b&gt; must have an energizer stashed away someplace because he keeps going, and going, and going...  Plus he's got the chip. Hmm... Maybe that means he will go find some other people to harrass, or he'll find himself suddenly busy keeping the Nebari from achieving galactic domination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that, my friends, is the state of the 'Scape.  Pretty grim, but hey, next March maybe we'll be able to look back at this crisis and think, "Oh, but that was so easy to get out of complared to &lt;i&gt;this&lt;/i&gt; mess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I not comforted?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2601886?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2601886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2601886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2601886' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2586750</id><published>2001-03-01T11:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-03-01T11:39:56.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Oh, I'm sorry, did I say that the aliens of "Workforce" seemed to be intelligent?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was cautiously optimistic, really I was.  I just &lt;i&gt;wanted&lt;/i&gt; Voyager to be good.  I wanted to be able to point at the TV and say, "Ah ha!  That is why I watch this show!"  But no, the antagonist of the week proved to be another batch of aliens who can take over Voyager with one hand tied behind their back (or rather, take the crew and screw the ship, for these guys), but then--having expended all of their mental resources--turn into a bunch of dolts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fully appreciate that it is a lot easier to write yourself into a hole than it is to write yourself out of one, but this half of the episode seemed to consist of a lot of separate threads that just never came together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point for the Episode:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of the sequences of B'Elanna going around the ship, not quite sure who she was were really quite sweet (and not in a "pass the toothbrush" sort of way).  Dawson and Phillips have a nice rapport going that's fun to watch.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I wish they had addressed was that from B'Elanna's (and later the others') point of view, while replacing one set of memories for another, her "real" ones wouldn't seem any more real than the fake alien ones.  In the DS9 premiere "Emissary" Sisko tries to explain linear existance to the wormhole aliens pointing out, "It can be argued that a being is the sum of their experiences."  While they remembered false pasts, the crew "were" the people those pasts had made them.  Going back to another past would make me wonder about my absolute sense of identity.  Look at what happened on Buffy when Dawn and everyone else found out that most of her past had been fabricated.  They freaked, but in the end are progressing on the basis of what they remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Next Generation episode "Connundrum" touched on a similar theme.  There, the crew had amnesia and what little information they had been given told them they were in a war.  And until they had evidence otherwise, that's what they acted on.  There the quick return to "normal" made sense, they &lt;i&gt;knew&lt;/i&gt; something was wrong, namely the big gaps in their heads.  But someone had messed with their reality and it was disturbing.  I would have liked to see some of that struggle, but Voyager treated this as straight abduction/molestation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point against the episode:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, they decided this was a problem best solved by phasers and chases.  The problem is most of these people just aren't convincing in a shoot 'em up.  Arm Seven of Nine and I take her quite seriously, but she's one of the few.  And whoever chose the last cliff-hanger shot of Janeway looking out over the edge of the catwalk a la Titanic must have had &lt;i&gt;their&lt;/i&gt; reality messed with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Points of Design:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The city still looked good.  The metallic pleather worker outfits: not so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And the moral of the story?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven of Nine was wearing her occular implant this week and last, but according to the previews it would seem to clash with red silk.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Speaking of next week...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is Seven sucking Chakotay's finger how "we've always wanted to see her?"  I suppose I shouldn't except more from the network that brought us the XFL, but I resent the shameless pandering.  Should we take it as a sign of principle that this isn't airing during sweeps?  No, I don't object to the sartorial statement, but is Chakotay going to succumb to temptation?  Not on this series.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2586750?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2586750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2586750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_03_01_archive.html#2586750' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2570374</id><published>2001-02-28T11:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-28T11:47:11.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Buffy&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;The X-Files&lt;/i&gt;: Things Fall Apart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The FarScape season premiere will not air for another three weeks, but it would seem that the "Season of Death" is already well underway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, now who ever would have predicted at the end of last week that Joyce was dead, really dead, and not only that, but of natural causes?  No, some things are just too disturbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, this might make us feel a little bit better about the X-Files.  While it is my opinion that Buffy had the superior episode, we can take comfort now in the fact that Mulder only appears to be dead.  We suspect he might be dead.  He may even be more dead that Aeryn Sun, but Joyce Summers... She is, as they say in the parlance, all dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a bad thing.  There is no reason for it, and Buffy rightfully took the entire episode to deal with it.  Or more aptly, not deal with it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to say anything else at this point except that Tara was wonderful, with and without Willow.  And astute viewers might have noticed that this episode got content warnings for language, sex and voilence.  Language I honestly don't remember.  Violence, well there was that decapitated vampire at the end.  But the only sex was three kisses between Willow and Tara.  I'm wondering if Buffy and Reiley behaving similarly would have gotten the same stamp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And the X-Files.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the opening of the season premiere?  Scully alone, shaken and upset but dealing and being the wonderful strong person that we have grown to know and love?  In the past two episodes that has been slipping, and badly.  Until it seemed Scully was relegated almost to being an observer as events spun farther and farther out of her control.  I thought actually the episode was largely effective in spite of this (hey, have a Mulder corpse lying around and it's hard &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; to push the appropriate  buttons), but I hope I wasn't supposed to have finished the episode feeling that Scully had brought this disaster about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her phalanx of knights in shining armor circled the wagons on this one, but not even a whole boat-load of mixed metaphors could save this tempest from breaking out of its teacup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Other Questions:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is Doggett's friend from New Orleans a total loon, or just very strange?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Let it be said:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I was affected; I was traumatized, and I'm somewhat worried.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Other counties heard from:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Topless Tuner: "He's a goner."  (But take heart, she's still maintaining Mulder's been dead since the finale of season four.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Source:  "Have they fired all of their writers and replaced them with soap-opera people?!?"  Key complaint:  "This is not happening" is a poor choice of phrase considering it's use in "Jose Chung's &lt;i&gt;From Outer Space&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And the moral of the story?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throw enough rocks at the woman, and Scully is forced to turn from skepticism to denial. Noooooooo!&lt;br /&gt;(And has someone been watching FarScape for their cliff-hanger fade-out shot choices?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;PS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else *really* relieved to watch Angel and out find that Kate was &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; dead?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2570374?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2570374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2570374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2570374' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2561496</id><published>2001-02-27T19:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-28T11:58:20.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, Voyager and I had something in common this week.  We were both part of a &lt;b&gt;Workforce&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Neat how I worked in the title and my excuse in one little bit huh?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point for the episode&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, the crew has run into a really neat antagonist here.  They aren't &lt;i&gt;evil&lt;/i&gt; per se, and they are also smart.  At least so far.  See, part of the reason I wasn't very excited about the hype on this episode was "aliens with labor shortage force the crew to work for them" sounds about as new and exciting as well... the last prison break story they did.  I'm picturing chains and pick-axes here.  But no, these aliens are thinking.  You want people to work for you: you wipe their memories and then treat your workers well.  Janeway particularly is looking happier than she has in years.  Now, it's still not a nice thing to do, but it's a different thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, maybe someone wiped the cast and crew's memories and convinced them that &lt;i&gt;they&lt;/i&gt; were excited about their jobs this week!  The visual effects do some really beautiful blending between CGI and live elements, creating a really good city sense: money well spent since we have to belive this is a pleasant place if we're going to buy that they do.  The story is for the most part tight, and chemistry between the crew members is better than ever, a little scary considering that most of them don't know who the hell they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And marvel of marvels I spent good portions of the episode wondering and worried about what was going to happen next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point against the episode&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the Doctor whines one more time about not being in charge even though he is a &lt;i&gt;command&lt;/i&gt; hologram, I'm going to dope slap him.  Really, that is annoying me no end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point for slashers&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they aren't trying to figure out who's in charge, Harry and the Doctor are being so damn flirty it's scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The point where they leave us&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kim, the Doctor, and Neelix are on Voyager having managed to kidnap B'Elanna.  However, it is anyone's guess how much good this is going to do them as she has no memories of them, and is in quite a panic over this development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuvok is about to get his brain re-washed.  But, he managed to trigger a memory in Seven of Nine, which may lead to other effects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Janeway's boyfriend (not a hologram) has asked her to move in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chakotay looks like he's about to jump off an outdoor staircase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what will part 2 bring?  More dastardly complications, or a stupid ending?  Tune in tomorrow... but first:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The moral of the story&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not exactly a moral, but I feel really silly for not noticing Annika was going around with no facial implants until after the show was over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2561496?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2561496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2561496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2561496' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2482332</id><published>2001-02-22T10:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-22T10:50:11.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;I too did not watch Voyager&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did tape it though.  See, the Topless Tuner was out on a hot date and I said to myself, "I've got a VCR, a movie I've wanted to see, and someone who actively wants to see it too!" (as opposed to the tuner who has been saying things like, "yeah, sure, we should go see that sometime.")  So I phoned up a friend from work who is no longer at work, and we went to see &lt;i&gt;Save the Last Dance&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked it.  Structurally, it was very nice, and it was also sincere, which prevented the cheese factor from being very bad.  Also, the female lead had genuine nasty dancer's feet and did not shave under her arms.  I approve of that sort of realism in film.  I didn't even mind the two junior high girls in the next row who kept turning to stare at us.  Really, I know that we're fascinating people, but I thought the movie was being more entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and WQ.  I may be pale for a while girl, but Sara was way more pale than I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2482332?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2482332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2482332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2482332' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2466475</id><published>2001-02-21T09:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-21T09:23:56.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;h4&gt;More tales from the job front&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My initials are MD.  And this has generally been mildly interesting at best.  I always kind of wished they spelled something, or were at least pronouncable, but since my middle name also begins with a consonant, it was not to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have discovered one oddity of having these particular initials in my particular job.  I'm an administrative assistant, which means that among other things, I occasionally have to sign other people's  names for them.  I've done this other places, and it's not a big deal.  Just sign: their name/my initials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except that some of the people I'm signing for actually &lt;i&gt;are&lt;/i&gt; MDs, or it wouldn't be surprising if they were, and I have to make very sure that it doesn't look like I'm just putting their credentials after the signature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2466475?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2466475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2466475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2466475' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2442864</id><published>2001-02-19T18:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-20T09:03:31.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There are times I have delusions of grandeur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the more frequent is that someone is reading this besdies Toni and WQ.  That there are untold faceless masses out there waiting to see what the GIND is going to say next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it is to these unintiated masses that I explain the strange cry they heard echoing through the land last night at approximately 9:30 (Eastern time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cry in question was actually a shout of triumph from X-phile shippers and slashers alike.  The difference was that the former followed their vocalizations with, "It's Mulder's baby!" while the latter concluded, "I &lt;i&gt;knew&lt;/i&gt; they weren't sleeping together!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, everyone in both camps as well as the non-aligned territories was left being simply confused by 9:56; although I must confess I was glad that we found out why Scully was confused about how she had gotten pregnant in the season finale.  After all, if she had been trying invitro it wouldn't be that much of a surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Other notable moment to talk back to the screen:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following "previously on the X-Files" -- "Oh my god he did take them [Scully's ova] home and stick them in his freezer!"  (Who said it can't help the writers out to leave stuff like that hanging for years until they need to pick it up?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Symbolism points&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It used to be that you could tell that something really important was happening because the background music would be a variation on "The X-Files is a show" theme.  Now, for the new season and new look "Scully's theme" is our musical cue of choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while I'm not sure what the point was, I did notice that Scully was constantly wearing black while in white rooms. (Good thing reception was good, the static tends to get worse when the screen is light.)  Now usually, this would imply that she is somehow impure or tainted, except that in this case she was being crusader for justice and the white rooms were full of scary stuff.  Serendipidous wardrobe choice, or subversion of usual color associations?  Let's see if the trend continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point of Exasperation&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sometimes seems that certain women somehow attract certain kinds of guys.  Me, I must send out some irrisitable call to obsessive, psychotic types with low self-esteem.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But look at Dana Scully: she's got Doggett, Skinner, Mulder--and that doesn't even count odd gestures made at various points by members of the Lone Gunmen or the Consortium--all just lining up to risk their lives or careers for her, father her children, you name it.  I'd be resentful if I weren't ready to do all three myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Next Week:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mulder returns!  The mystery is solved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh please, what show do they think we've been watching the past eight years?  I'd sooner believe that Aeryn Sun isn't only &lt;i&gt;mostly&lt;/i&gt; dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2442864?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2442864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2442864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2442864' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2442511</id><published>2001-02-19T18:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-19T18:22:51.100-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;The Void that is Voyager&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Voice at the back of the room:  Haven't we already had an episode of Voyager called "The Void?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: No, we have run into another phenomenon which the crew &lt;/i&gt;called&lt;i&gt; The Void, but the episode was called, "Night."&lt;br /&gt;Voice at the back of the room: Oh.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh indeed.  Mostly, oh to have had this episode on tape.  Not to preserve for posterity, but for two important qualities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If I had been watching this recorded instead of in real time, I could have fast-forwarded through all of Janeway's boring speeches about the values that make the Federation great, and how they will triumph in the end.  Especially when she was preaching to the choir of Chacokay and Tuvok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I could have gone back and checked the guest credits and seen if it really was Marc Alaimo as general What's-his-name who refuses to form a mutually beneficial alliance and so remains stuck in the Void.  As it was, I just spent most of the show going, "That has just &lt;i&gt;got&lt;/i&gt; to be Dukat!"  Last check of the official site did not have guest credits up.  If anyone has information to relieve my suspense, it would be much appreciated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, with those two minor adjustments, I don't think this would have been such a bad episode.  It's a very Star Trek story and so they were able to do it well.  The SF TV landscape has changed considerably since the early days of TNG, with Babylon 5 and FarScape being two notable examples, but this episode was prime example of "what Trek does."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out, met strange aliens, and in the end wound up finding friends without forcing them into any mold once the immediate crisis had been solved.  There were some fun moments, some jeopardy, and in the end, the ship continues on its way pretty much unchanged.  It's a formula, ST has done it better, but also worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(But big smack for the "Principles of the Federation" speech.  Trekkers know it, non-fans [well, non-fans aren't watching this show] but they should be able to see it from example.  Was someone trying to fill out the episode? Hmm?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Next Week&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The much hyped "Workforce."  What I had heard before the preview did not have me excited, but I am not cautiously optimitstic.  It would seem that the crew has had their memories of their identities wiped.  Last time that happened we got "The Killing Game."  Hey, I liked it once, maybe twice won't be all bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2442511?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2442511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2442511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2442511' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2386291</id><published>2001-02-15T12:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-15T12:35:35.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's an odd and disturbing coicidence, that so soon after starting a project tracking violence on a science fiction TV show (one where I have the assumption--completely unfounded--that despite the large numbers of guns around, few serious injuries are a result of people being shot) &lt;a href="http://www.boston.com/dailyglobe2/045/metro/City_seeing_rapid_rise_in_stabbing_homicides+.shtml"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt; appears in the Boston Globe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2386291?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2386291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2386291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2386291' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2357810</id><published>2001-02-13T10:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-13T10:18:45.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh, I have found the ultimate time-wasting project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Sunday WQ and I were discussing Aeryn Sun, and how she is not dead, and we got to wonder just who has had the most brushes with death.  But in making that list there was the question of whether one counts extreme illnesses that could have led to death, conditions which just whack one out of one's head, and suchline.  So I went to bed thinking that really, instead of a list, I'd have to make a huge table with characters and various categories of ills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the more I thought about it the more complex it became.  How to keep track of what had already been counted?  And (getting into the larger sociological sense of the question) how present were various character's bodies in forwarding plots? Are women sick more often then men?  It always seemed that way on Star Trek, but with hundreds of episodes, actually counting seemed a bit much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I have embarked on the FarScape body-count database.  I'm hoping eventually I'll have information that can be wrestled into an answer to some of those questions.  And hey, maybe someone out there besides me is interested.  And in the meantime, I'm actually picking up something about database design.  I just hope no one I work with realizes I am in possesion of this exploitable skill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2357810?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2357810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2357810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2357810' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2343587</id><published>2001-02-12T11:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-12T11:19:06.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Today, the moral of the story comes first, and it is: Do your research!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every subway system has it's own lore.  And Boston's "T" is no exception.  In fact, there is a song about "the man who never returned."  Take a moment to sing the chorus with me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, he never returned.  No, he never returned, &lt;br /&gt;And his fate is still unlearned.&lt;br /&gt;He will ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston&lt;br /&gt;He's the man who never returned!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this is just made for X-Filesian creepyness, no?  Well, actually not.  You see, the reason this hapless traveler never emerged from the Boston subway system was because he lacked the nickel needed to pay the fare to get off.  It's not spooky, it was a campaign platform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I saw the preview, the Topless Tuner and I tried to guess which subway the monster of the week was going to be haunting, and since we live here, Boston was the first one struck off the list.  There are a couple simple reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The T only has four lines (no extensive layers upon layers of tunnels).  &lt;br /&gt;2. It's largely above-ground (see point about tunnels).&lt;br /&gt;3. Stations are very shallow and never have more than two lines coming together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The X-Files got around this by not having the Boston subway system be much like the Boston subway system.  Some things I noticed during the episode:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Big Dig is digging some tunnels for the subway.  However, none of them are open yet, and it is currently disrupting Blue Line service, meaning that part of the tunnel has been closed for months already.&lt;br /&gt;2. I can't say for sure, but given the simplicty of the system, I find it hard to believe there are a lot of abandoned tunnels forking down there.  There's no place to fork to.&lt;br /&gt;3. The MBTA is very good at stopping service.  They do it rather frequently.  And while it would irk commuters, once you're downtown anyway, it's not a far walk to any of the commuter-rail stations which is where most of them would be going.&lt;br /&gt;4.  The trains and stations, just didn't look like the T.  For one thing, we have big "T"s on the cars, not "M."  And in case anyone was wondering, there is no Clark Street station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point for the Episode&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had I not been as familiar with the T as I am, there isn't much here that would have bothered me.  Scully and Doggett are doing their best imitation of a brainship in this episode and my only qualm was that if Scully didn't want to go down there because she was worried about contaminants and the baby, Doggett probably has a right to know why.  (Though, given the preview, it looks like he might find out soon enough.)  It's a good solid, monster of the week, and although I was distracted, I enjoyed the chemistry between out people, and there was good use of the ticking time-bomb device.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point against the episode&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was difficult to say through all the snow, but did I miss a good reason that they had for &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; pulling everyone out as soon as they had reasonable cause to assume a contagion?  Also, we seemed even less resolved than usual.  Where did the kid come from?  Who wrapped the bodies and stashed them in the abandoned tunnel?  And what was it that caused that transit cop to suddenly sweat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Add to your Guest Star watcher's life list:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kassidy... er, Penny Johnson now Dr. Lyle from the CDC, previously known as Capt. Kassidy Yates/Sisko.&lt;br /&gt;Possible other sighting in Lt. hot-head.  I'll have to do some research.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And the second moral (despite the first one)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be taking the bus home tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2343587?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2343587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2343587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2343587' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2308833</id><published>2001-02-09T12:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-09T12:09:48.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am embarassingly asleep.  I mean, really.  I thought that I woke up this morning, but I was obviously mistaken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night the Topless Tuner, her boy and I went out to see the &lt;a href="http://www.fkb.com"&gt;Flying Karamazov Brothers&lt;/a&gt;. (They don't fly.  They aren't brothers.  And not one of them is named Karamazov.  Who are they?  The Flying Karamazov Brothers!)  It was fun.  They always are.  But it meant that a) had to have a short conversation with WQ and b) got to bed about 11pm.  Didn't set the alarm this morning, and I still woke up at 6:30.  And tonight the idea is to buy groceries and then go out to see The Magic Flute.  I like opera.  I like Motzart.  I'm sure I'm going to snooze through the second half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did have some free time yesterday to catch up on my telelvision.  In deference to a) WQ who will not see Buffy and Angel until Saturday and b) my job which might decide to demand some of my minimally available attention sometime today, I am not going to talk about Tuesday night with the Frog, but Wednesday on UPN.  God, the sacrifices I make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Prophecy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prophecy is an episode about finding these Klingons who think they they are the sworn enemies of the Federation, but then they get over that and decide that B'Elanna's child is going to be their savior.  So they blow up their ship.  And suddenly Voyager (scant crew that it has) is too crowded.  So Neelix has to share quarters with Tuvok.  But some of the Klingons get pissy that B'Elanna is not fully Klingon (not to mention that Tom is even less so.)  So they don't think the kid is going to save them after all.  So to prevent Klingon Jihad or something B'Elanna has to pretend to be all into this stuff to convince them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confused yet?  Good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the Klingons are infected this this virus thing that randomly activates and kills them.  ("Why didn't our biofilters eliminate them?" Janeways asks.  "Because it would have ruined the plot twist," the Doctor replies.)  Of course they didn't mention this, they all have it.  They think of it like old age.  Of course it's only transferrable to Klingons and *gasp shock!* B'Elanna and her yet unnamed daughter are infected.  In a truly credible character moment B'Elanna turns to the Klingon guy who had challenged Tom to a duel (virus got him before Tom's dazzling Bat'leth play could), and says, "Thanks a &lt;i&gt;lot&lt;/i&gt;.  I'm so glad you bozos decided to come aboard."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What could this be?  Their savior infected with the virus?  Impossible!  They have been deceived.  This group of Klingons then proves to be the only ensemble in the galaxy that is incapable of taking over Voyager.  But it doesn't matter!  They are subduded in four mintues flat and then voila!  In another stunning reversal the Doctor cures the virus!  How you may ask?  It's the particle of the week!  The baby's strange hybrid stem cells.  So, she does save them after all.  At which point they all beam down to a convenient M-class planet and we promptly forget about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Points for the episode&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not, there were a couple of good moments stuck in with the silly, the embarrassing and the annoying.  And lucky for them, one of them was the very last line of the episode.  Dawson hits exactly the right note as she tells Tom: "Add it to the list."  Sweet, sincere, and not at all ironic.  Yes, these people are actors, and occasionally they get interested enough to act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, stupid as the device was, Harry running away from an enthusiastic Klingon woman who was not taking "no" for an answer, gave Wang something to do, and he did it well--being funny without acting dumb.  Poor guy finally gets a woman running after him for a change and... ah well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point against the episode&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not even going to get into all of the logical flaws, dumb dialogue, and techincal weirdness going on, but these Klingons who say that "a true warrior would not hide behind a woman" have no problem with the known fact that B'Elanna's kid is going to be a girl?  Come on.  Use sexism as a plot device or not, but make up your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And the Moral of the Story is:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only ten more new episodes to go.  Anyone else think the cast and crew are counting down with as much glee as we?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2308833?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2308833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2308833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2308833' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2279649</id><published>2001-02-07T10:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-07T10:07:10.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I teach people how to do better on standardized tests (no, that's my other job, not the one where I sit around for hours writing television reviews).  And as it happens, I also have a healthy contempt for anything which requires one to fill out little bubbles on little forms.  I took the GRE on computer, I did two out of five grad school applications on the web, and for the most part, they worked out well.  Some were designed better than others, but on the whole, it's nice not to have to worry about one's handwriting or tracking down a typewriter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not until I was filling out the &lt;a href="http://fafsa.ed.gov"&gt;FAFSA&lt;/a&gt; (Free Application for Federal Student Aid) on the web did I realize how terribly a web form could be designed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone with an ethernet or like connection took perverse glee in making screens that say things like, "On the next few pages you will have the opportunity to answer questions.  Click 'next' to continue."  And so I would and then be forced to wait for another screen to load with one question on it, which I would answer, hit next, and well... you get the idea.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had finally gotten smart and picked up a paper copy of the form so I knew what the answers to all of the questions were going to be, and it still took me an hour and a half to answer the questions, print all associated confirmations and forms, and then finally submit the frelling thing.  (That doesn't count my previous &lt;a href="http://the-gind.blogspot.com/archives/2001_02_01_the-gind_archive.html%232251992"&gt;trials and tribulations&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total time to fill out the paper FAFSA?  Let's just say it was considerably less.  I don't doubt that doing all of this electronically makes life easier for the government and for the schools.  And I did get an estimated Expected Family Contribution right there.  But please, did it have to be such a harrowing experience for the person actually filling it out?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't I just send in the paper version?  Don't ask me that.  Please, just don't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2279649?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2279649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2279649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2279649' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2265664</id><published>2001-02-06T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-06T09:23:37.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'd be feeling virtuous this morning if I weren't so exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boston got dumped with a boat-load of snow last night.  Well, more than a boat-load, several barges worth of heavy, sticky snow that has coated every exposed surface, both horizontal and vertical.  I know because I was out in it coming back from writing group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The illustrious university which employs me would not close for such an occasion, but this does not mean that the roads aren't still a mess, so I walked to work this morning figuring that the bus was going to be a bad scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I wanted to get in early in order to file my taxes by phone (which is easier to do at work because the receiver and buttons are not on the same bit of phone). And I didn't really want to do it when someone might be calling me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've gotten my exercise, come in to work despite wretched conditions, and taken care of some nasty paperwork for Uncle Sam.  And I would feel very virtuous and together if I weren't ready to lie down and take a nap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2265664?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2265664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2265664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2265664' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2252934</id><published>2001-02-05T10:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-05T10:59:19.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2001/01/24/perfect_high/index.html"&gt;We weren't this insane.&lt;/a&gt;  Were &lt;a href="http://www.simons-rock.edu"&gt;we?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds like the Texas Academy of Math and Science on steroids.  I'm all for gifted education but...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2252934?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2252934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2252934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2252934' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2252243</id><published>2001-02-05T09:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-05T09:49:14.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"The Monster of the week not so montrous after all! (Plus, he feels your pain.)" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-or- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gillian Anderson gets a week off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-or-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Lone Doggett Rides Again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the X-Files introduces us to this guy who eats sick people and then spits them back up healthy... or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Weather Report:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not bad.  Light snow and electrical disruptions.  I could see and hear almost everything, but couldn't tell whether the creature was a "soul leader" or a "soul eater."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;He's Ba-ack!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Mulder returned.  Well, Mulder did something back before he left that we are only now finding out about.  In his absence, Skinner has decided that Mulder can and could do no wrong, or maybe he just thought it unlikely that Mulder would actually hit something he was shooting at.  Or that his target wouldn't bleed green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Unanswered Questions&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did Mulder decide to start keeping his gun taped to the underside of his sink?  He's an FBI agent.  Didn't they teach him how to deal with blood spatters?  Yes, your enemies are less likely to steal it, but one would also think they would not be very concered about it there either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that Doggett has cheated death, are he and Scully going to start their own &lt;i&gt;Highlander&lt;/i&gt; spin-off?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody loves Scully, but why?  Skinner has always gone out of his way for her, but given the partnership dynamic she and Doggett have had going lately, in his place I'm not sure I'd be so positive she had nothing to do with her former partner's illegal activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point for the Episode&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a MOTW; it's an arc episode; it's Doggett and Skinner investigating stuff and getting in each other's faces!  Seriously, what's not to like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And finally, the Moral of the Story&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mulder understands, but Doggett gets the job done even when he doesn't know what the hell he's doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2252243?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2252243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2252243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2252243' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2251992</id><published>2001-02-05T09:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-05T09:26:45.750-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My weekend in brief:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday:   Got home to find tapes from both Mom and my source had arrived.  Since the Topless Tuner had already left town with her boy to see WQ and the piano exhibit in D.C., I consoled myself in my isolation with a FarScape orgy.  (Hey, I've been very patient waiting for these episodes.  I saw very little reason to make myself wait between them.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:  Spent most of the day convincing myself that Aeryn was not permanently gone.  In general, did a lot of diddly-squat.  Got frustrated with FAFSA on the web.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday:  Went grocery shopping.  Had friend over.  Largely resumed being a productive member of society.  Became enranged at FAFSA on the web.  Almost normal by the time the Topless Tuner got home.  'sokay, she's used to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2251992?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2251992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2251992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2251992' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2217050</id><published>2001-02-02T10:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-02T10:31:54.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, I've started playing a little game with myself lately when it comes to my Voyager ramblings.  I write up my opinions, then I check IGN.com and see what Jason Bates has to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now usually, if I found an episode flawed but forgivable, everything about it ticked him off.  In "Legacy" he liked the flashbacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on &lt;a href="http://scifi.ign.com/tv/6138.html"&gt;"Repentance"&lt;/a&gt;?  I don't know, we were on the same vibe, which is pretty scary.  I mean, sheesh, he even made a &lt;i&gt;Law&amp;Order&lt;/i&gt; reference.  I'm a bit scared.  Of course, I can still take comfort in the fact that I like cop shows too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2217050?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2217050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2217050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2217050' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2216931</id><published>2001-02-02T10:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-02T10:18:14.433-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Dead Men Talking  (And talking and talking and talking...)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you remembered the preview for Voyager from last week (I didn't until it came on right before the episode) it looked like our valiant crew was going to be (once again) overpowered by a small group with an agenda.  In short an episode that--to paraphrase someone speaking of the TNG episode "The High Ground"--while having little socially redeeming value would certainly be action packed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this is why previews are different than spoilers:  they seldom tell you what is actually going to take place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and what follows is a spoiler. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a nutshell, a group of prisoners is beamed aboard Voyager when their ship is about to explode  and our folks find themselves in the uncomfortable position of taking them to their executions. So, Voyager's crew gets to discuss: the death penalty, prison brutality, a racist justice system, and personal responsibility for actions committed while under mind-control or mental defect.  There were a couple of tense moments, but hey, take Seven of Nine hostage and see how long &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt; can hold onto her.  But really, between all of the philosophical discussions, there wasn't much time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point for the episode:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now,  I'm not going to say that this is making my list of anything, but it &lt;i&gt;did&lt;/i&gt; start to grow on me after the Doctor's heavy-handed anti-death penalty beginning.  Whether you agree with what this episode was criticizing or not, speech-making does not make good story.  We had some very credible guest performances and good characters among the prisoners, and a nice sf twist with Seven's nanoprobes.  They also made the story personal in a way that their earlier &lt;a href="http://the-gind.blogspot.com/archives/2000_11_01_the-gind_archive.html%231248766"&gt;indictment of the modern healthcare system&lt;/a&gt; earlier this year did not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point against the episode:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that this was about as subtle as a sledge hammer?  And let's face it, not only does talking about a modern issue in the future not make it sf, or compelling drama, they just threw too much at it.  Seven's sub-plot worked pretty well, and while I have thankfully never been incarcerated I did temp for more than a month at my friendly neighborhood Texas Youth Comission detention facility, and believe you me, there is plenty wrong with the U.S. criminal justice system, but this is &lt;i&gt;Voyager&lt;/i&gt;, not &lt;i&gt;Law&amp;Order&lt;/i&gt;, and you can't even scratch the surface of every problem in 45 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point why they need to get back to the Alpha quadrant:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember at the beginning of the episode where Tuvok leaves the bridge to go to the cargo bay where the aliens have just been beamed to?  Now, he is the chief of security and this is an unknown and possibly dangerous situation.  Does he hurry? Does he call for a team to meet him there?  Does he look at all interested in what might happen?  Nope.  The man positively strolls.  Okay, so he's a Vulcan, it could be that calm veneer.  But remember &lt;a href="http://the-gind.blogspot.com/archives/2001_01_01_the-gind_archive.html%232035228"&gt;Shattered&lt;/a&gt;?  Chakotay is hit by a big bolt of something from the warp core, and B'Elanna barely musters energy, let alone concern.  Come on, these people &lt;i&gt;like&lt;/i&gt; eachother, and B'Elanna is not known for her cool demeanor.  There are only 11 new episodes left before the season finale, and the cast seems to be saying, "Thank god!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Moral of the Story:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*big grin now*  Life is Better in the Federation.  *thumbs up*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Next week!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My God Jim, those are Klingons!  I don't know where they came from.  I don't know why they would care about B'Elanna's baby (after all, B'Elanna's official Klingon name seems to be "mongrel child of Miral").  But you know what?  I don't care.  At least Klingons can usually be depended on to give us some good energy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2216931?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2216931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2216931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2216931' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2202687</id><published>2001-02-01T09:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-02-01T09:30:12.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's so nice to find &lt;a href="http://www.salon.com/ent/col/mill/2001/01/31/scully/index.html"&gt;someone who gets paid to have opinions&lt;/a&gt; having the same opinion I do.  WQ will &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog/2001_01_28_edictsarchives.html#2198534"&gt;back me up&lt;/a&gt;, I've been saying that The X-Files is a story about Scully for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't agree with everyting Joyce Millman says in this article.  I'm only a sporadic fan of MOTHWs, the conspiracy--as convoluted and nonsensical as it can be--provides a good cast of recurring characters, and keeps the series from being a random anthology series, but I admit that's a matter of taste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2202687?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2202687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2202687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_02_01_archive.html#2202687' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2190792</id><published>2001-01-31T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-31T09:22:47.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You know, I woke up this morning and just &lt;i&gt;knew&lt;/i&gt; today was a day to take a sick day.  I have to tutor in the afternoon, and I could do that, but just had the feeling that this was a morning to take it slow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was feeling better once I actually got up... until I whacked my last two toes on the bottom of a cabinet while I was getting breakfast together.  It's funny, I'll swear casually, but when my two littlest toes have just slammed into an immovable object and I am in not inconsiderable pain, I'm standing around going, "Oh ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff" but never actually finishing the word, not even with a "rell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, I got dressed.  Saw the Topless Tuner off, got my own stuff together and left the apartment in plenty of time to get the bus to work.  I got about a block and a half, hit a patch of black ice at the top of a hill and went down.  Since I started college up north, every winter I've had one good spill.  No more, no less, but once a season I just flat out fall.  Now, at Simon's Rock, this is not surprising because it's a rural campus and you get a lot of snow and ice around.  Thing is, if you slip, you usually hit more ice, or frozen dirt.  It's hard, and falling is not fun, but you're most likely just going to get a bruise or a small scrape for your trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to urban living.  I slipped and hit sidewalk.  Casualties are: a scraped hand, knee, and torn pants. I of course turned right around and went back to my apartment, where (since I am a grown-up or something) I had to put peroxide on my own skinned knee.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hoping that I have reached the end of my injuries for today.  I'm in no mood for further escalation.  I knew I should have taken the morning off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2190792?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2190792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2190792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2190792' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2177848</id><published>2001-01-30T11:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-30T11:05:35.840-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So far today I am much calmer and saner than yesterday.  This is a good thing.  I think if I can get some writing done after work today and before the Topless Tuner's boy comes over to watch DS9, I will be feeling even better about my general mental state.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2177848?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2177848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2177848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2177848' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2164256</id><published>2001-01-29T13:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-29T11:51:52.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've got to say, my fear is doing wonders for my productivity.  Being afraid to go on the web, (to have my anxieties allayed or confirmed) I'm finding all kinds of stupid little things to do around the office.  It's kind of cool to be in touch with my workplace again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2164256?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2164256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2164256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2164256' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2163198</id><published>2001-01-29T11:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-29T10:18:44.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Frell!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frell! Frell! Frell!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here I am, innocently trying to waste time at work and I stop by the official &lt;a href="www.scifi.com/farscape"&gt;FarScape website&lt;/a&gt;.  And there's this little thing saying, "Aeryn Sun, rest in peace."  And the little voice in my head is screaming, "NOOOOOOOOO!" because you can't &lt;b&gt;do&lt;/b&gt; that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seems an especially cruel slip after my dilligent spoiler avoidance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my source is sending a tape soon.  Soon I will have new FarScape.  I will be able to uncurl from my little ball and face the world again.  Soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2163198?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2163198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2163198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2163198' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2162893</id><published>2001-01-29T11:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-29T09:51:18.796-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This weekend seemed way too short.  That's all I have to say about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2162893?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2162893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2162893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2162893' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2162759</id><published>2001-01-29T10:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-29T10:51:12.516-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well, as NBC is fond of saying, if you haven't seen it before, "it's new to you!"  And well, the X-Files last night was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point for the Episode&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;This is basically a classic story told well.  They got a great guest star for the genie (genia?) and the two brothers made the Dumkoffs in the old apartment building seem like intellectual heavy-weights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point against the Episode&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;It &lt;i&gt;was&lt;/i&gt; a classic story, and because Mulder and Scully are really the only people we see week to week you can't depend on the characters' individuality making an old premise unique.  It was fun, but how many gags didn't we see coming?  Anyone who's read "The Monkey's Paw" knows not to wish to bring someone back from the dead.  Mulder's wish for peace on Earth &lt;i&gt;couldn't&lt;/i&gt; work out, and even his last one for Jen was not unexpected (although I admit that the cut to the VCR had me worried).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point for the Episode&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;You do know you have something special when the Topless Tuner will watch pretty much the whole thing.  I mean, she won't watch Law &amp; Order with me because it gives her nightmares.  Much as I claim not to be missing Mulder this season it was kind of nice to be free of Scully and Doggett snipping at each other.  Still, was it just me or were Moose and Squirell being kind of... silly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Point against the Episode&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised that Mulder didn't even consider wishing for... safety for Samantha, or some means of foiling the Consortium, or &lt;i&gt;something&lt;/i&gt; to do with his quest.  We know it wouldn't have worked out, but Peace on Earth struck me as a little out of character.  He's usually not the one thinking in that particular big picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, &lt;b&gt;The Moral of the Story&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;Yes, our monster of the week was a bit literal-minded, but spend 500 years wrapped in a carpet and see how lenient &lt;i&gt;you're&lt;/i&gt; feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-or-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take your mule and your turnips and quit while you're ahead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2162759?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2162759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2162759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2162759' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2129841</id><published>2001-01-26T10:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-26T10:58:42.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Danger Will Robinson!  This is really long!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, Voyager...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flashbacks can be done well.  We've seen it &lt;a href="http://www.perriverse.dreamhost.com/farscape/episodes/2-3.html#2.5"&gt;happen&lt;/a&gt;.  It's just never happened on this show.  And it certainly didn't happen Wednesday night on "Lineage."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point for the Episode:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, they did have a good angle and &lt;i&gt;tried&lt;/i&gt; to exploit the drama.... Oh hell, I'm just a slave to critique groups that demand you say something nice to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point Against the Episode:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was actually going along passably well in my opinion (not great, not edge of your seat, but well enough for Voyager) until we get the revelation that B'Elanna sabotaged the Doctor's program.  I didn't buy it.  She and Tom were getting close to actually talking for once, and then this wrinkle came up.  It seems like someone wanted to increase the tension, then they realized they didn't actually want to alter the baby, and so had to come up with some way to let the baby &lt;b&gt;not die&lt;/b&gt;.  So they say, "Hey, what if B'Elanna altered the Doctor's program, and there's no health issue after all?"  Okay, leave aside the very questionable ethics of that Action.  Leave aside the fact that she was the one who wouldn't mess with his program in "Virtuoso."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you want towards the end of an episode is something that alters the playing field, makes the solution we've just come up with completely untennable.  This was just a straight complication and a cheap one at that.  It's saying, "Oh look out for that giant rock!" and then the rock isn't actually there at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about those flashbacks.  As Harry Kim was warned about Ferengi at the Academy, film students of are warned about flashbacks.  They can work, but most of the time, they just don't.  In this case, B'Elanna's memories were being used as a way to let us know what she was thinking without letting her talk to an actual person about them.  (Something which might have advanced the plot and let us do something besides sit around and stew for an hour.)  And why wasn't she talking to anyone?  Because this camping trip was merely an example of what she's told Tom and others about before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compare to the first season episode "Faces" where the Vidiians split B'Elanna into two people, one Human and one Klingon.  There's a wonderfully touching scene where B'Elanna (human) tells Tom about growing up with her mother, and always being different.  There's not flashback, no kid that kind of looks like Roxanne to distract us. She just talks, and it's a beautiful scene.  The other difference in that case is that the important action is the present.  The act of opening up even that much is what we are watching and part of what the episode is about.  One of those cases where talk &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But take another example where flashbacks were used for similar purpose, but worked.  FarScape's "The Way We Weren't" is chock full of fairly expository flashbacks, but instead of stopping the action cold, they force it to keep moving.  Now, if Aeryn and Pilot had just said everything that transpired in the "past" not only would it have been a hell of a lot of talking, but we would have lost a great deal of the sense of place.  And it was important if we were going to sympathize with Aeryn (especially) at all, to understand how different things were back then.  Of course, they play the conceit that it is the actual words that evoke what we are seeing, so John or whoever is listening knows what we know when we come back to the present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's important that we &lt;i&gt;see&lt;/i&gt; what happened, and since Aeryn hardly volunteered this stuff, the fact of revelation is not so important.  It also ties in well with the actual video footage that Chiana found which got the whole thing started.  Also, watch the episode and notice that the flashbacks do not just mindlessly play through a sequence of events.  Each moment is triggered by an event or elicited by a question.  And possibly most important, they not only explain the past, but the present as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A side note:  Voyager is one of those shows that has a tough time with any type of flashback because there is so little sense of fantasy or dream on the show.  (I don't mean that everthing that happens is realistic science, but they play it as though it was.)  They have to shoot flashbacks as though they are just as "real" which is either jarring or boring.  Since FarScape frequently feels like a dream sequence when everyone is awake, it's easier to pull the audience into something even more strange than usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Points that annoyed me (that's right, this was about an episode of Voyager):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B'Elanna has said before that she was five years old when her father left.  Even in strange Star Trek child growth, that young B'Elanna was older than five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom and B'Elanna "of course" wanted to have a family?  Those two?  Who have been married for how long?  Yeah, right.  If they did, they seriously need to have their heads examined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B'Elanna is not a Klingon.  Ask any Klingon and they will tell you that.  She is half-Klingon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, and I know that Worf is a Klingon, but K'ehlar proved that Klingon/Human hybrids can in fact be extremely fertile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the Moral of the Story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A warp-speed wedding, quick pregnancy, and the doctor's ominous words that this gestation could be "even shorter" than a Klingon norm at 30 weeks.  Hey, the baby is kicking at seven or eight.  Am I crazy, or are they trying to cram marrige, pregnancy and birth into &lt;b&gt;one season&lt;/b&gt;?!?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2129841?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2129841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2129841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2129841' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2103640</id><published>2001-01-24T12:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-24T12:31:30.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Now, we all &lt;b&gt;know&lt;/b&gt; that I have way too much time on my hands at work, but pfew! &lt;a href="http://www.thelogbook.com/index.html"&gt;this site&lt;/a&gt; has put my free time to shame.  I went out looking for a site that had an episode guide for Star Trek: Voyager which gave writer credits, tracking some information for a friend of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I not only found that, but this site has a list of writers for all Trek series with their complete episode credits listed.  Good thing too.  I never would have thought to check and see if Kemper and Manning were writing for Star Trek:TNG way back in the second season!  (which incidentally, they were).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2103640?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2103640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2103640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2103640' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2101733</id><published>2001-01-24T09:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-24T09:52:42.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Buffy is a dead duck!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it's not a spoiler, just my own bit of prognostication.  Watching last night as Buffy and Glory were facing off I caught myself thinking, "Make her kill you.  She looses the key to the key, she'll get the hell out..." Of course it wouldn't work, but the show is taking a hard look at Slayer mortality this season, and one of the recurring themes has always been that you can't retire from being the Slayer.  (Unless you're Faith, but she's a bit of a special case.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buffy already has incredible longevity in Slayerdom, and unless she somehow transcends mortality, it's my prediction that at the end of the series, she is going down.  (I know, I know, she's died once already, but she came back, doesn't count.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coupled with all this Apocolypse talk from Wolfram and Hart... well, things are looking pretty sticky all around Wheedon's World this year.  But you don't have to go out on a limb to say that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2101733?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2101733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2101733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2101733' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2086675</id><published>2001-01-23T09:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-23T09:36:39.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>All right, this is what happens when I'm stuck in the twilight zone of waiting to find out what is going to happen on &lt;i&gt;FarScape&lt;/i&gt; when I &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt; that everyone else knows already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But come on, if John Crichton had a personal theme song, wouldn't it just have to be Istanbul (not Constantinople)?  Sing with me now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Take me back to Constantinople&lt;br /&gt;No, you can't go back to Constantinople&lt;br /&gt;'Cause it's Istanbul, not Constantinople..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't you see it?  The longing for a place, now gone or irrevocably changed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so maybe I've just been listening to too much &lt;a href="http://www.tmbg.com"&gt;They Might be Giants&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2086675?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2086675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2086675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2086675' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2071914</id><published>2001-01-22T09:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-22T09:31:20.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I would have thought that the snow being gone, reception on my TV would have cleared up, but no, apparently the winter storm which hit the East Coast decided to strike my set once it was done with the harbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, The X-Files, fuzzily:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point Against the Episode:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I know I usually try to start positive, but... eeeeeeew! I know that the X-Files has seldom sheid away from the weird, the creepy and the grotesque, but come on,  I want to know who walked into the writer's meeting and said, "Let's do an episode that revolves around this little guy who crawls up people's butts!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, who said, "Wow! That's a great idea!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point for the Episode:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I have to say that maybe fuzzy reception did me a favor in this one.  Unfortunately, sound was also not the best and I think I lost some of the nuance in the Scully/Doggett partnership evolution.  What I hope this episode means is that Scully is going to stop trying to be Mulder.  She's much better when she's being Scully.  Scully and Doggett are taking professional to new levels.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was getting the impression that there was some mutual respect being fostered between the two of them, but I just didn't see it this week.  Maybe I mentioned this before, but who would have guessed that calling your parter by their last name only instead of "Agent ____" would wind up sounding clubby and familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And The Moral of the Story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gross-out monster of the week and little personal fun makes for an uninspring outing.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and I have forgotten what Doggett's first name is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2071914?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2071914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2071914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2071914' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2059834</id><published>2001-01-21T10:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-21T10:38:50.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>See, I never found B'Elanna all that annoying.  In fact, she was and continues to be one of my favorites parts of the series.  What can I say?  I like Kira, Ro, and Aeryn too.  Make me a show with a tough, together, and yet completely screwed-up female character, and you'll wish that I had a Neilson box.  You're right though, dear.  There has been some evolution.  (Don't forget Paris and Janeway evolving into lizards!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voyager has done some good stuff in the past seven years.  Seven and Naiomi were both introduced and handled very well.  At last, Janeway has hit her stride, and found her sense of humor.  I'm not going to compare them to &lt;i&gt;FarScape&lt;/i&gt; because being the fourth series of a franchise, they really don't have the freedom to re-invent themselves every season the way &lt;i&gt;FarScape&lt;/i&gt; or &lt;i&gt;Buffy: The Vampire Slayer&lt;/i&gt; can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2059834?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2059834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2059834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2059834' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2035430</id><published>2001-01-19T09:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-19T09:57:23.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh, and in case anyone missed them, my archives are back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2035430?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2035430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2035430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2035430' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-2035228</id><published>2001-01-19T09:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-19T09:49:03.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay, I watched Voyager yesterday, and posted my reactions, which Blogger promptly ate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's try this again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blink&gt;HERE THERE BE SPOILERS!&lt;/blink&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point for the Episode:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shattered" is based on a gimmick.  A big 'ole bolt of something hits the ship and shatters it into 47 different time-frames.  Chakotay is in the "present," Janeway and Kim haven't left the alpha quadrant yet, Seven just came on board, you get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nominally, Chakotay and Janeway have to wander through the ship meeting up with all of these people in order to inject something into all the gel packs, but really, it's just an excuse to do some inter-temporal mingling.  And for the most part, it's a great little gimmick.  It's fun to see Naomi and Icheb all grown up, &lt;a href="http://www.startrek.com/library/episodes_voy_detail.asp?ID=68918"&gt;Seska with the Kazon&lt;/a&gt;, and even those damn &lt;a href="http://www.startrek.com/library/episodes_voy_detail.asp?ID=68942"&gt;macroviruses&lt;/a&gt;.  There are lots of good moments, and the climactic scene where everyone from every time-frame gangs up on the invaders in Engineering is a very fun pay-off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of Voyager's best episodes are its most gimmicky (I admit it, I will still pull out &lt;a href="http://www.startrek.com/library/episodes_voy_detail.asp?ID=72221"&gt;"The Killing Game"&lt;/a&gt; for a re-watch), and since this is "The long-awaited final season" (quote archive fodder?) it's nice to take a moment and reflect on all the near-death experiences we've had over the years.  They even manage to deal with Janeway's second-guessing (first guessing?) her decision to strand them all in the Delta quadrant without being hokey about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point Against the Episode:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortuantely, that fun scene in Engineering (and most of the rest of it) also serves to highlight one of the tragedies of the series.  It felt like many of them were trying, but The Doctor was the only character who managed to convey that he was from five years in the "past" without wardrobe or hairstyle props.  Sure, there are little changes: Janeway doesn't have Chakotay arrested for coming up to the bridge anymore; Seven no longer suggests assimillation as a way in increase productivity.  Has no one else on that ship (or on the show's staff) seen being stranded in the Delta Quadrant as a life-changing experience?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in the &lt;i&gt;Star Trek&lt;/i&gt; universe puts certain constraints on a show, but this episode show how little the envelope was pushed.  I suspect there were many contributing factors, and it's sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.startrek.com/library/episodes_voy_detail.asp?ID=114246"&gt;She's having a baby!&lt;/a&gt;  This premise has potential for a lot of good material for Torres and Paris--especially given both of their issues with their own parents.  Will the episode rise to the occasion?  We'll see.  (And lets hope that after &lt;a href="http://www.startrek.com/library/episodes_voy_detail.asp?ID=68886"&gt;Dreadnaught&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.startrek.com/library/episodes_voy_detail.asp?ID=68876"&gt;Prototype&lt;/a&gt;, this time Torres doesn't have to destroy her own creation.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Finally, (thought I'd forgotten, hmm?) The Moral of the Story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the benefits of being a character in the Star Trek universe is that even if un-innoculated people and equipment can't pass through a temporal barrier, your clothes manage the transition just fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-2035228?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2035228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/2035228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#2035228' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-1969539</id><published>2001-01-14T14:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-22T09:33:16.680-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.msu.edu/~hainesho/random.html"&gt;Farscape Random Quote Generator&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you so much &lt;a href="http://www.msu.edu/~hainesho/random.html"&gt;WitchQueen&lt;/a&gt;, for pointing this site out.  I have just learned the true depths of how easily I am amused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;click, click, click...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-1969539?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/1969539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/1969539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#1969539' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-1969162</id><published>2001-01-14T14:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-14T14:20:03.196-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sleep easier &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog/"&gt;darling&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the two of us watched &lt;i&gt;Sliding Doors&lt;/i&gt; the girl I'm not dating has been (shall we say) concerned that one day I will take a seat on some means of mass-trasport next to a charming gentleman from the British Isles, and he will proceed to sweep me off my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, today I got on the T, sat right next to a guy with a distinctly British accent (I don't think Welsh), and he spent the entire trip being utterly charming to the person he was talking on his cell phone with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sweeping off feet, no eye contact, nada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-1969162?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/1969162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/1969162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#1969162' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1054696.post-1946368</id><published>2001-01-12T12:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-01-12T13:01:11.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Okay everyone, repeat after me.  "Aeryn Sun was NOT irreversibly contaminated because of her extended contact with one unclassified alien, namely John Crichton."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The SACC is only the latest to wonder why someone else (in this case &lt;a href="http://www.scaper.com/sacc/twww.html"&gt;Velorek&lt;/a&gt;) was not irreversibly contaminated (in this case, because of contact with Pilot and his friends).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving aside that Pilot is definitely a &lt;i&gt;known&lt;/i&gt; alien, fact is, we don't know how much contact results in contamination.  (Unless someone wants to guess how long Crais was over with our merry band before &lt;i&gt;he&lt;/i&gt; got smacked with a quarantine.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, what got Aeryn in trouble was that Crais was going off on a tear about how John Crichton &lt;b&gt;killed his brother&lt;/b&gt;, and then she went and opened her mouth.  (I have to think that she was never going to have any raging success with this organization.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In effect, she was irreversibly contaminated by the pile of political dren she planted her foot firmly in the middle of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sorry &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog/"&gt;dear&lt;/a&gt;, I haven't had a chance to watch Buffy yet, and so have nothing to add to the &lt;a href="http://www.slashx-files.com/blog/2001_01_07_edictsarchives.html#1922475"&gt;Loverboy!Spike&lt;/a&gt; debate.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1054696-1946368?l=the-gind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/1946368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1054696/posts/default/1946368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://the-gind.blogspot.com/2001_01_01_archive.html#1946368' title=''/><author><name>the</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06042980449874764819</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
