I just read a powerful post on the liberal blog Daily Kos detailing a recent speech by Michelle Obama. Here's the link:

http://dailykos.com/storyonly/2008/5/29/33133/3956/139/524643

I have admired this woman all through this messy campaign, but these words of hers are astonishing in their naked truth:

"Fear is the reason this country is where it is today. Fear is a useless emotion.

"Don't ever make decisions based on fear. Make decisions based on hope and possibility. Make decisions based on what should happen, not what shouldn't.

"Don't ever make decisions based on fear."

Wow. Just, wow. Thank you for that, Michelle.

Nothing major to report today, but for those who wonder about the other weird venues where I post, here is one of them:

https://twitter.com/urban_unicorn

Twitter is a "mini-blog" that limits each entry to 140 characters (so folks can use cell phones to text there). I find it's a bit less pressure to post there than on LJ, because such short entries need not be profound. I also find it rather satisfying to see how much I can say about my life at the moment in such a severely limited space. It's like writing strange little poems to shoot off into the ether.

This morning's entry:

"Scott McClellan tells all. Hillary wants a convention fight. My brain is gonna explode. But it looks like a beautiful day for writing."

So if you are bored enough to want more of such inane, trivial comments, feel free to check my Twitter blog.

I'm back to working on my romance novel as of yesterday, but I also hope to dig up time to do some fan-art of Snape, Poldark, and a couple other subjects.  (I have nearly finished with my Snape-themed green, black and silver crocheted afghan.) I haven't done much  drawing for quite a while  (probably not really since 2006 when I did my cancer treatment), but working on a  door decoration at the con reminded my forcefully of the joys and the sense of calm that comes with non-verbal creativity. Besides, I gotta justify all those Alan Rickman photos I just bought.

Just got back from MediaWest Con in Lansing this past weekend. It's my one big "mom's weekend off" out of the year and always a great time. The best part of it was being able to hook up with some old friends that I  hadn't seen for a couple of years (you know who you are). I also spent some time with a few hard-core Harry Potter fans -- and I never cease to be impressed by how much these folks know about their chosen universe. I've now completed my (initial) reading of the Potter books, and am still angsting over dear Severus, but what else is new? I actually think it may take me a little more time to process all that I've read before I'm ready to do more than noodle on a Snape fanfic. OTOH, I have now done more than 50 pages worth of "noodling." So I guess we'll see.

I will probably try to sink some serious time into my original fiction for a while. My writing tends to go in cycles that way. I'll hammer on one thing for a while and then need to let it lie while I work on something else. After the convention, I'm feeling just a little bit fan-ficced-out, so it's time to visit with my own characters for a while. I just dug up this kids' fantasy novel that I started back when I was an undergrad in the 1980s, and you know, I think there are some usable elements in there. Add that to the list of stories I'm currently playing with.

In other news, Ross has two more weeks of regular school, and then Jeff and I need to figure out what his summer schedule is going to look like. Fun times ahead ... of course, the good news is that now that the weather is warmed up, we can take him swimming more often and at more places. He loves the water!

I admit it. I have now officially been bitten by the Snape fanfic bug, even as I continue to work on my original fiction (romance novel is chugging along at about 140+ pages now), and even though I still have about 400 pages left to read in HP book 5, and then all of book 6 still to come. Yes, I've already read book 7 ... that's where the trouble started -- and then I backtracked through novels 1-4. Order of the Phoenix is proving a slog, in part because I'm also reading Georgette Heyer, Anne Bishop and Lisa Kleypas at the moment. (One of these days I should really do a post about my current reading list ...)

Anyway, the fanfic I'm working on is probably going to be long and involved, so I'm keeping the details under my hat for a while. But in the meantime, an idea for a poem grabbed me yesterday and wouldn't let go. No competition for e. e. cummings, I'm sure, but this was really fun to write. I thought about calling this bit of fluff  "Gryffindor Girl's Fantasy," but then I thought, "Why should Gryffindors have all the fun?" Especially since I'm a Ravenclaw, myself. Anyway, here it is.

Between Classes

Forgive me, Professor
I didn’t see you
standing
there at first
wearing all that
formidable
black

That collar looks
a little confining
buttoned
all the way up
underneath your chin
Why don’t you just let me ...

I promise I won’t bite
not unless you
ask me to
You know, I never realized
that black was my favorite color
until now

Now let me
just brush that hair
Midnight black
off your forehead
so I can see you
Raven black
Gypsy black
matches your eyes
Did I mention that black is my --

My what smoldering eyes you have,
Professor
what subtle lips
curved in an almost-smile
what cunning hands
half-hidden
by white cuffs
and black sleeves

Just what are you wearing
under all that black, darling?
Well I could
show you mine
if you’d care to return the --

Professor --
you do realize that
technically
the library is a public place?

What do you mean: ‘I started it’?

Well, no
I don’t mind you putting your hands there,
or your lips
anywhere you’d like, really
but if you keep going on like that
we’re going to draw attention

I don’t believe you
Two people will never fit
under that cloak
Well, since you insist
Did I mention that black is my favorite –?

Oh my
what
black eyes
you do
have,
Professor ...

Never mind, darling
I don’t care who’s looking

***

Author's Note: Oh, and yeah, just for the record, I am in fact completely  obsessed with Sev's collar and cuffs -- those little bits of white that  stand out in all that black. Hmmmm ...

And it's a big one, so-called Super Tuesday (also my mom's birthday, but I digress).

I wasn't going to post anything here today, but then a friend wrote to query me about my feelings on Obama vs. Clinton, and I wound up writing this freaking tome, so I've decided to share it here.

Caveat first: I intend to support the eventual Democratic nominee, whoever that turns out to be, but I do have a preference for Obama, and since some large numbers of delegates are up for grabs tonight, I might as well try to articulate why.

To the extent that there are tangible, quantifiable reasons for preferring Obama to Clinton, I think that for me it is mainly a sense that Obama represents a fresh start and a move away from political "dynasties," while Hillary is going to be "Clinton Administration, Part II." There's nothing inherently wrong with that, but right now this is a wounded, battered country, and I think we need more than just a changing of the old guard. Whatever her personal strengths (and she has many) Clinton is part of a large and well-oiled political machine, and I mistrust that. I loved Bill while he was in office, but in retrospect I think he made some damaging mistakes with NAFTA, GATT ("free trade"), and the Telecommunications Act (media consolidation), all of which were bad news for American workers and the American democracy. I am an old-school Democrat who believes that the party should be a strong voice for labor. While both candidates are taking money from big business, I think Clinton is far more beholden to them than is Obama. Plus, the defense industry seems to prefer Clinton -- enough to have given her more money than any of the other candidates -- including any Republicans.

I'm also just a little worried that Clinton will a) energize the Republican base, which hates her guts -- b) put the Democratic party firmly back into the hands of the corporate-ruled DLC, which is bad news for labor and for ordinary citizens -- c) not be able to harness the energy of independents and new voters; the party needs rebuilding and that's  where new support  will come from. But these are all really nitpicks. There's no doubt that Clinton would nominate the right SC justices, sign and veto the right bills. IOW, yes, she can avert the disasters that would surely come with another Republican presidency -- if she can win the general election.

As Thom Hartmann said the other day, you could build a case for or against either one of these candidates based on the small differences they have.

Admittedly, a lot of my rationale for supporting Obama is indeed based on "intangible" factors. When I listen to Obama speak, I get a strong sense of actually being able to see a future beyond the devastation committed by the Bush regime. When I see the photos of the (thousands of) people who come to his rallies, I see lots of young people, and black and white people standing side-by-side. I see diversity. And as historic as a woman president would be in this country, I think a black president would say something utterly amazing to the rest of the world. The other day, I watched a portion of a chilling documentary about civil rights workers who were murdered in the 1960's -- back when I was a baby. In a country where -- in my lifetime -- black folks have literally been murdered for trying to make their voices heard, how astonishing would it be to see this country coming together around a young, charismatic, African American president?

Sorry if that sounds simplistic or naive, but the idea of smashing that barrier just takes my breath away.

And I like that Obama is asking American citizens to engage in the struggle to reclaim our country, while Clinton seems to be saying: "Hire me because I can do all the work myself."

Personally, I think politics is too important to be left solely in the hands of politicians.

This silly little survey was forwarded to me and I found it amusing, so I filled it out:

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. College instructor/grad assistant
2. Editor
3. EPA temp secretary
4. Donut  shop cashier/lackey

Four movies I would watch over and over:
1. Sense and Sensibility
2. Sex, Lies and Videotape
3. All the President's Men
4. Galaxy Quest

Four T.V. Shows I watch:
1. Complete Jane Austen, currently on PBS
2. Countdown with Keith Olbermann
3. Blue's Clues
4. Wow, Wow Wubbzy!

Four places I have been:
1. Switzerland
2. London
3. Cornwall
4. Mackinac Island

Four people that email me regularly:
1. My husband
2. People from my writing group
3. Air America Radio
4. Amazon.com

Four of my favorite foods:
1. Indian food
2. Thai food
3. Onion rings
4. Steak, medium rare

Place I would like to be now:
1. Cornwall, near the ocean
2. Blue's Clues-land
3. One of those blue-styrofoam Star Trek planets
4. Hogwarts

Things I am looking forward to this year:
1. Taking my son to the beach this summer
2. Beauty and the Beast season 3 on DVD
3. Finishing the second draft of my novel
4. NaNoWriMo 2008

Well, after reading my first draft through twice, then writing and tweaking a couple of  plot summaries, I think I'm ready to embark on draft two of the thing that I've been calling my "silly romance novel." The writing process so far has proved a real education, and very different from the way I typically go about writing my fanfic. I think the difference is that fanfic gives you a context (in terms of plot, emotion, backstory) for your characters, while original fiction requires you to make all that context up on your own. With fanfic I would typically start with some very specifically visualized scenes and sort of work outward from there, whereas with the story I'm working on now, I had to start with a much broader situation and flesh it out in a series of scenes. So it was a little bit like working in the reverse of what has been my usual mode. The good news is that since my usual mode was often like working a jigsaw puzzle without any notion of what the completed picture would be, this novel, is some sense, has proved much easier to write (so far) than some of my longer fanfic projects.

Of course, my two main characters came to me in a highly specific scene jotted into a writing journal, and the initial idea was sort of quasi-fanfic, in that the characters were "types" or avatars of other characters that I had fallen in love with created by other writers (though by now they have pleasingly morphed into selves quite distinct from the characters that inspired them). Now the rubber is about to hit the road as I try to give some depth to that speed-written rough draft. I have an outline; the plot seems fairly solid. This draft will undoubtedly be an opportunity to get bogged down in the details, but since I have a road map, that prospect seems a lot less daunting than it might have if I was just jumping in with no clue of the larger story.

And by the way, I am extremely grateful to author Stephen Koch, whose Modern Library Writer's Workshop has proved the most useful book I've ever run across for the nuts and bolts of revising. Without it, I don't think I'd have a clue where to go next with this draft.

In other news, my six-year-old, who normally disdains clothing of any sort, has evidently taken a shine to the black-and-gray striped shirt that I recently bought him. So much so that he threw a tantrum when he couldn't wear it to school today (it was dirty from being worn all day yesterday). I actually find this an encouraging development, as keeping him in clothes while at home has proved a challenge in the past. I may even go down to the store today to see if I can't find some identical shirts for the kid.

I also see that the Thompson candidacy is dead (I'd thank god if I believed in one). I have to say that event brought me a chuckle, especially as I recall all the ominous warnings directed at Democrats that they'd better watch out for the "exciting" and "manly" Hollywood actor who was gonna save the Republican party from disaster by assuming the mantle of Ronald Reagan. At the time, I said to my husband: "Are you kidding me? The most boring actor ever to appear on Law and Order? (And I swear, I found him boring long before I knew he was a right-wing nut job.) He's going to save the Republican party?" Yawn. So much for that fantasy. Now if only Rudy Ghouliani would fold up his tent and go home, I'd sleep much easier at night.

Thanks to Cheile for nudging me into finally posting here again. I've been meaning to for a while, but well, you know how life gets.

Since my last post to this journal I have:

1) spent most of 2006 in treatment for a stage-one breast cancer (no worries, I seem to be clean now and have been feeling good; my hair is back too)

2) been busy parenting my wicked-smart autistic son, who just turned 6 a little over a week ago

3) been listening to obscene amounts of liberal talk radio (Malloy, Maddow, and Hartmann mostly)

4) written a not-half-bad first-draft novel (fantasy/romance) as part of National Novel Writing Month last November

5) fallen seriously in love with Professor Snape

6) gone on a Jane Austen film-binge

7) re-watched the entire Poldark TV series from the 70s; damn, I'd forgotten how good that was

and

8) taken up reading some books by Georgette Heyer. I've just started "Friday's Child,"  which is completely adorable and  hilarious with great characters

Oh, yeah, I also voted in the meaningless Democratic primary here in Michigan a couple days ago. So far, I'm liking Obama, but since neither he nor John Edwards were on our ballot, I voted my heart and went with Dennis Kucinich.

And as an aside, I must say the Republicans are fielding the scariest, creepiest bunch of candidates I ever saw.

I am now in the midst of prepping for a family trip and beginning revisions on my silly little romance novel. If I ever get it to the point of being readable for the general public, maybe I'll try posting an excerpt.

I'm still nominally involved in Trek fandom, though I lurk on most forums these days. I haven't written any serious new fanfic in a while (though I did play in a couple of ASCEM challenges). I'm reasonably sure that my next major fanfic effort will involve Snape in some way, though right now I'm preoccupied with the above-mentioned novel (of course, my hero is some weird hybrid of Snape, Mr. Darcy, and Ross Poldark ... can't imagine why).

Oh, yeah, and I'm spending way too much time fooling around with iTunes on my computer.

It's nice to be back.

Good grief! I haven't put an entry here in *how* many months? I guess that's what happens when RL gets a bit busy ... but I don't feel like talking about real life at the moment, I just wanted to mention my obsession with Air America Radio, which has been sucking up so many of my waking hours and brain cells lately. If you are a liberal and Bush makes you want to rip your hair out, you *need* Air America. It will keep you sane. Check it out at:

http://www.airamericaradio.com/

And then there are my two favorite AAR hosts--the ones who yell the loudest, Randi Rhodes and Mike Malloy, who have their own sites at:

http://therandirhodesshow.com/randirhodes/main.php

http://www.mikemalloy.com/

If you like your liberal talk radio more intellectual and "civilized" (though I don't think Bush merits a lot of civility), there is also Thom Hartmann, who can quote from the Federalist Papers and stuff. He's not part of Air America, but he does a good radio show anyway.

http://www.thomhartmann.com/show.shtml

Hartmann also gives practical advice as to what you as a citizen activist can do to create change in our government.

Kira for Ills [PG-13, Odo/Kira]
by C. Zdroj (aka Odosgirl)

Odo sagged against the door of Kira's quarters as soon as it hissed closed behind him.

His lover glanced up at him from the sofa, where she was reclining with her feet propped up.

"Come on in and take your boots off, soldier," she invited, wiggling her toes at him seductively. "Let me guess: another ‘Klingon afternoon'?"

Odo snorted. "I wish. At least the Klingons are simple. They get drunk and start breaking things and then you throw them in the brig. Trying to figure out where Quark has stashed his latest shipment of contraband isn't nearly so simple. And I don't even want to go into the epidemic of petty theft and assorted mayhem that decided to break out on the promenade today." He sat down heavily beside Kira as she moved to make room for him on the sofa.

"So ..." she began, as Odo folded his hands into his lap, leaned back, and closed his eyes. "I guess you're pretty tired, huh?"

"Exhausted," Odo confirmed. His eyes remained closed as he spoke. "I don't suppose you'd mind if I regenerated on your floor, would you?"

"Oh no, not at all," said Kira soothingly, running one finger slowly in a line down the center of his chest. "Of course ... I can think of more ... interesting things to do on the floor ..."

Odo's eyes slitted open a fraction. "Oh, really?"

"Uh-huh," said Kira, continuing to trace lazy, aimless patterns over his chest. "As a matter of fact ..." She leaned in close to murmur into his ear. " ... I think that you would find the ... activity I have in mind to be very ... relaxing."

"Ummm ..." Odo appeared to reflect, or maybe he was simply enjoying Kira's touch. Her fingertips were beginning to leave liquid trails across his facsimile uniform as his molecules became gradually more fluid under her caress.

"Would I have to stay in solid form for this ... proposed activity?" he murmured. "I've been holding it for fifteen hours and it's really become quite ... taxing ..."

"Why don't you just ... take it off, then?" she purred.

Odo decided to give in. "Don't mind if I do ..." he sighed, dissolving almost instantly into a puddle of gold that slid gently from Kira's sofa to the floor.

A moment later, Kira joined him there.

Suddenly Odo found that he didn't feel quite so tired anymore.

~the end~

Conscience [PG-13, Odo & Kira]
by C. Zdroj (aka Odosgirl)

He was sitting behind his desk the next day as though nothing had happened, poking at a datapadd with his usual look of absorbed concentration. As always when on duty, Constable Odo exuded an air of calm authority.

One might never guess that a lynch-mob--wrongly convinced that Odo was a murderer, all too willing to believe him capable of such a thing because he was alien--had pursued and cornered him into this very office a little more than twenty-six hours earlier.

Kira stood for a moment in front of his desk, waiting. After hitting a few more keys on the padd, he looked up at her, his expression all business. "What can I do for you, Major?"

Kira shook her head. "Something I can do for you, for a change. I came by to let you know that you're back on duty, Constable."

Odo snorted. "That's nice to know."

Being Odo, he was hardly likely to acknowledge any emotional response to this news, especially since he was already behaving as though he'd never been relieved of duty in the first place. But his token display of grumpiness made Kira oddly relieved.

She glanced around the office, trying not to look like she was staring. "I see they cleaned up the place."

It was an understatement. The shattered plasti-glass in the doors had been replaced, as had several ruined computer consoles, though it looked like a couple of the security monitors were still inoperative. The graffiti on the far wall had been painted over, but Kira could, if she squinted, still make out the word "shifter" that had been scratched there in jagged, angry letters. She had no doubt that Odo, with his investigator's eye for detail, would have noticed that as well.

He followed her gaze, and for a moment, she thought he might comment on the events of the day before. But he only said. "Yes, I'll give Starfleet credit for that much. The repair crew was very efficient."

Kira drew a breath. "And you?" she asked carefully.

The question was direct enough that he could not mistake her meaning, oblique enough that he could change the subject if he wished. Odo looked away.

"I'll survive." A growl. It was clear that he didn't want to talk about this. Not right now anyway.

"I'm sure it'll make Quark's day to know that you're in charge again," Kira said lightly. Quark was always good for a change of subject between them.

"I'm sure it will," said Odo, with just the faintest touch of malicious humor. Then he paused, gave Kira a measuring look. "I understand that Quark was one of the few people who actually wasn't outside my office the other day throwing refuse and demanding my head on a platter." He sighed. "It's a bad day when a Ferengi is your only supporter."

"Not the only one," said Kira quietly.

"I'm sorry. I never thanked you."

Kira shrugged and then smiled. "It's not like I didn't owe you."

"All the same. Your support was appreciated. I know that you set yourself against a group of Bajorans by taking my part. That can't have been easy."

Kira was moved. Odo rarely thanked anyone for anything.

"Deciding where I stood wasn't hard. Facing up to them--" she shrugged. "I guess sixty years of occupation has made all of us more distrustful than we should be."

Odo tilted his head. "Humanoid nature, no doubt. The Cardassians behaved remarkably similarly at times." He stopped himself, seeming to think that he'd overstepped some boundary. "Not that I'm suggesting that the two cases are identical."

"I know what you're saying. Still--I feel as if I should apologize for what happened."

Odo met her gaze evenly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"No--not me personally. Not this time. But I'm one of them. And this station is supposed to be a Bajoran outpost. You deserve to hear an apology from one of us. I know the kind of hatred that causes people to go looking for someone to blame. If I hadn't had the chance to work with you--or someone like you--I might be like Tahna Los right now: angry at anyone who's not Bajoran."

Odo looked mildly surprised by this little speech, and Kira smiled wryly. "Or did you think I was just this kind and tolerant by nature?"

Odo gave a brief snort of laughter. Kira held out a new datapadd to him and he took it. "Here are your official orders, by the way. As of this moment, you are returned to active duty, Constable."

She watched his expression carefully as he took the padd from her. He still looked ... guarded as he read over the official orders.

"Is something the matter?" she asked.

Odo's voice was soft: "I was just wondering: for how long?"

"A long time, if I have anything to say about it. I need somebody here to listen to my anti-Starfleet rants."

Kira reached across the desk and touched his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Odo looked almost embarrassed.

Then he gave her one of his rare, faint smiles. "Happy to oblige, Major."


~the end~

A Dukat for Your Thoughts [PG-13, Odo, Dukat]
by C. Zdroj (aka Odosgirl)

Of all the people that he might have selected to oversee security, I'll never know why he chose me.

Perhaps it was expedient. I happened to be there. He happened to require a non-Cardassian to conduct a particularly sensitive murder investigation. He dared not do the thing himself, dared not reveal his ties to Vaa'trick and the other Bajoran collaborators. That would have been suicide.

But why me in particular? Did he think I would be malleable, as perhaps my liquid form suggested? Did he think that I, being an outsider, might actually try to be objective? Did he want the truth? Or was I just another tool at his disposal, a convenient pawn to help put an acceptable face on the Cardassian Occupation of Bajor?

Or was there something more--a fascination with what I was that he never dared to pursue, and that I elected not to notice?

He certainly seemed to hold himself above any vulgar fascination with changeling parlor-tricks, such as those that Gul Hadar had found so amusing. And yet, the way that word--"shapeshifter"-- came sliding off his tongue ... sensuous, half-insult, half-challenge ... it always made me wonder if he was daring me to defy him, or perhaps inviting me to turn my investigator's gaze on him and see something different than the figure of command that he presented to the Bajorans and to his own soldiers.

Perhaps he thought that with my alien eyes I would see something in him that no one else did. Something admirable.

In some perverse way, I do believe he wanted my approval. He often pretended that I was his confidante--the only one capable of understanding that he truly loved Bajor and its people. Not that I ever believed that particular delusion of his.

I have never doubted that he was using me, but strangely, he seemed to enjoy the fact that I knew this. Perhaps this was his way of seeking redemption. I know a great deal about that, since I've been seeking it myself for so long. Mostly for the work I did in his name.

Now that the man is dead, I find I am no nearer to understanding his motives than I ever was. I recall him with disgust, both for what he was and for the work I carried out for him.

And yet, some part of what I am is still owed to him, since he was the one who gave me the job of maintaining security on that station. A job that eventually became, for me, the pursuit of justice. He was the first one to see past what I was to what I might become.

And that is why, unlike Nerys, I cannot fully hate the man.

Try as I might.

~the end~

Odo, I Don't (Version 2) [PG-13, O/K]
by C. Zdroj (aka Odosgirl)


"Odo, I don't!"

"Oh, yes, you do!"

"No, I don't ... really. St-stop ... stop it! I do not!"

Kira Nerys collapsed on the bed, laughing helplessly.

"No ... fair!" she gasped. "You're cheating!"

"I beg your pardon?"

By this time Kira was laughing so hard she could barely speak. "Come on ... Odo. Six ... hands? Do you ... really think ... that's-that's ... fair?" She burst into near hysterical giggles again as Odo created yet two more hands, bringing up the total to eight.

"You never defined ‘fair ...'" He paused, sitting up on the bed and retracting the extra arms. Odo leaned down over the near-breathless Kira, interlacing his remaining fingers with hers and seeking her lips in a kiss that smothered any last-gasp snorts or giggles. For several moments the room was silent. Kira let her fingers tighten around Odo's hands as she kissed him back.

After he broke the kiss, he looked down at her with an expression of perfect sobriety. "You only said you didn't like to be tickled."

Catching her breath for a second time, Kira smiled. "Okay. So I lied." The smile became wicked. "Do you want to punish me, constable?"

"That depends," said Odo. "How many hands am I allowed to use for that?"

Kira sighed and closed her eyes. "As many as you like."

~the end~

Odo, I Don't (Version 1) [PG-13, Odo, Quark]
by C. Zdroj (aka Odosgirl)


"Odo, I don't ... !"

"You do too. I've seen you. Don't bother denying it."

"Maybe once or twice," Quark admitted. "But never with that slimy white ... stuff ... all over it." The Ferengi wore an unmistakable look of disgust.

"More sticky than slimy, actually," said Odo matter-of-factly.

"But look at it!" said Quark, gesturing toward the item in question. "Do you really expect me to put that into my *mouth*?"

"After all the other things that have been in your mouth, I can't believe you're making such a big deal about this. Couldn't you at least try it? For me?"

The not-very-thinly-veiled taunt made Quark scowl. He didn't much care for the mocking way Odo seemed to be batting his eyes at him, either. They were in a public place, after all.

"Can I at least wait until it stops ... foaming so much?"

"Suit yourself," said Odo, "but this is the last time I ever buy you a drink."

Together, they contemplated the root beer float that stood on the counter-top, fizzing ominously.

~the end~

It's been too long since I posted here--mostly because the Novemeber election sucked up so much of my mental and emotional energy. I'm still angry and sickened by the results, but I've decided that sulking isn't a productive use of my time and anger, so I've moved on (or am trying to). But politics is going to be a bigger part of my daily life (and possibly part of this journal) from here on out.

The other thing keeping me away from my computer lately has been house-and-dog-sitting for my mom, who just had major surgery (she's on the mend now, but recovering her normal routines slowly). Normally I keep most of my personal info out of this journal, but in this case it seems appropriate to note the reason for my longish absence.

I've been catching up on my DS9 DVD-viewing lately, and really loving "Boston Legal." I have been giving serious thought to writing Alan-and-Paul slash because I simply love watching Rene Auberjonois and James Spader snipe each other. And my Odo/Kira fanfic writing, though stalled, is underway once again.

I hope to have more interesting things to post in the near future, i.e. fanfic, some reviews, etc. For now, it's just good to be back online.

I went to see George Butler's film "Going Upriver: The Long War of John Kerry" last week Wednesday. This is an amazing, moving film that details both Kerry's Vietnam War experience and his involvement afterwards in the anti-war movement. As a lot of film critics have been saying, it's not a flashy or gimmicky film, but a straightforward and quietly-focused study of its subject. The film's director never injects his own comments, but rather lets his various interviewees tell their own stories in their own words.

"Going Upriver" paints a picture not only of Kerry, but of the Vietnam era and those who lived through it. You cannot look at the faces of the veterans in this film--struggling to cope with what they've experienced in the immediate aftermath of military service, reflecting back on that experience 30 years later--and doubt their patriotism or their sense of loss. When Butler shows footage of these vets throwing away their medals during a protest event in 1971, for example, it becomes clear just how difficult this symbolic act was for them, and that it was not at all a thing done lightly or out of malice toward their country, as some have implied. It is a profoundly moving, deeply saddening moment in this film. You feel the sense of abandonment and betrayal that these soliders must have felt toward their government.

Kerry comes across as someone who, both in battle and in the peace-movement, won leadership by earning the trust of others. He isn't someone who grandstands about his own emotions, but who listens, actively, to other people expressing theirs. His testimony before congress in 1971 is shown here at some length, and he is seen to be both straightforward and articulate. What emerges is the depth of Kerry's convictions, his understanding of his fellow solidiers, and his quiet inner resolve, something that is very hard (if not impossible) to capture in a campaign ad, a sound-bite, or even a televised debate.

Above all this movie gives the lie to the assertions made by many that the Vietnam War, and the events surrounding it, are "not relevant" to this presidential election. There is no reference to the presidential campaign in this film, and yet, the events it protrays are deeply, eerily, relevant to what is happening today.

I also had a chance, finally, to view Michael Moore's "controversial" film "Fahrenheit 9/11" this weekend. I didn't realize that it was possible for me to get even angrier than I already was at our current president--but I did while watching this film. I also cried--and I defy anyone to watch this movie dry-eyed, especially by its stark but utterly respectful depictions of the tragedy of 9/11 and the ongoing tragedies unfolding in Iraq.

Moore is famous building many of his films around "stunts" designed to make both political and corporate figures look silly. His interview with seemingly spaced-out NRA president Charleton Heston in "Bowling for Columbine" springs to mind. "Fahrenheit 9/11" is not entirely free of such street-theatre, but the instances of that are kept to a minimum. Moore also connects the dots about the Bush family's business relationships with the Saudi royal family and the bin Laden family in a way that will raise a lot of eyebrows. He has a field-day with Bush's more inept and embarrassing moments as president--but for my money, the film's real power comes from a different source: the footage of American soldiers in Iraq and of the real dangers they face, of Iraqi civilians and the real horrors they've endured. Moore's film puts a human face on the conflict in Iraq.

Like so many of Moore's film's, this one ultimately comes back to his hometown of Flint, Michigan (not far north from the Detroit area where I live). Moore's genuine feeling for this working-class town, economically devasted by the loss of automotive factory jobs, is evident in every frame. He talks to a group of African-American teens from Flint about their friends and family members serving in Iraq, about their futures and whether or not they themselves will go into the service. The deeper message of "Fahrenheit 9/11," the one that has been under-reported in the media but the one that nonetheless hits hardest here, is that it is the children of the poor and the disadvantaged of our own country that are forced to fight our wars, however ill-conceived they may be.

Moore has been accused by some of distortion and disingeniousness, of using manipulative "dirty tricks" to smear the President--but one doesn't come away from "Fahrenheit 9/11" with the sense of having watched a film about George W. Bush. What I came away with was the sense of an ongoing tragedy and outrage about such a pointless waste of life. What stuck with me were not the President's smirks and dumb remarks, but the stories of those who have endured real losses in this conflict. And these are people that Moore's film treats with compassion and respect.

In other words, this isn't the movie that Republicans would have you believe that it is. It's not primarily a joke at the President's expense (though, yes, it is partially that). It's a cold-eyed look at the mess that Bush and his cronies have created, one that shows us exactly who is paying the price for his mistakes.

Some websites to check out:

Information and trailer for "Going Upriver: The Long War of John Kerry":
http://www.goingupriver.com/synopsis.html

Michael Moore's site:
http://michaelmoore.com/

Operation Truth: Our troops in Iraq and Afghanistan tell their own stories:
http://www.optruth.org/main.cfm

Vietnam Veterans Against the War:
http://www.vvaw.org/

Conventional wisdom says that the American President is often a "daddy figure" to the country.

Or, in the case of George W. Bush, a hyperactive toddler having a temper-tantrum. (Though, as the parent of a two-year-old, I suspect this may be an insult to toddlers.)

Although he managed (barely) not to scowl during last night's debate, Bush spent most of that 90 minutes storming and squawking, squirming in his seat, and whining at the audience like a teenager explaining why it wasn't his fault he'd totaled the family car.

At one point he got up in moderator Charles Gibson's face, demanding to be allowed a rebuttal right this freakin' minute. I truly thought that he was going have a massive melt-down right there in front of the cameras. At the time, it seemed pretty damn funny, but in retrospect it's pretty disturbing, even shocking. This man is so obviously desperate to hold onto power that it seems to have made him unable to rein in his temper and engage in civilized discourse even for a limited period of time.

Ladies and gentlemen, I fear that this president is ... well, how shall I put it delicately? -- unstable.

Meanwhile, John Kerry, as in the last debate, was absolutely rock-solid, in full command of the facts and of himself. While the President haranged the audience and paced around looking nervous and twitchy, Kerry spoke with calm authority, looked into people's eyes, addressed them with respect and even remembered the names of several of the folks asking the questions. He explained things concretely and cogently, the way a good teacher does, and he did not dismiss the opinions of those who disagreed with him (as with a couple of questioners who seemed to be anti-abortion).

Kerry was, in a word, presidential.

The right-wing noise-machine will, of course, try to spin this debate as a victory for Bush, simply because he managed not to have a total melt-down or give a repeat of his disastrous performance in the first debate. But I find it hard to believe that voters won't recoil from the image that Bush presented on Friday night, namely, that of a man openly scornful of opposing points of view, unwilling to forge alliances or allow for complexities, and above all desperately clinging to power and in full denial of anything like reality. As in the first debate, the underlying sentiment of all Bush's comments seemed to be a desire to scream: "But *I'm* the President, dammit. I tell ya *I'm* the President!"

I'm willing to bet that many viewers saw what I saw: a spoiled child suddenly and completely taken out of his depth.

By contrast, John Kerry is an adult. Despite the Bush campaign's attempts to present him as inconsistent, it was abundantly clear that he is a man of deep and unwavering conviction, a smart man who understands how the world operates, and a man of true compassion. His questioning of the use of labels in this campaign--asking for a definition of "compassionate conservative" in response to Bush's calling him a liberal--proved that Kerry understands both the power of words and the necessity of getting beyond them.

Ironically, while the President was talking about running and hiding, Bush himself seemed to be doing just that--pacing around the stage looking for a rock to crawl under.

John Kerry didn't need to hide. Once you've experienced being shot at with real bullets, Republican spit-balls just aren't that scary.

This morning I sent an email get-well wish to President Clinton, who remains, to this day, the only politician that I have ever actually dreamed about (more than once, too--and they were not sexual dreams ... well, not overtly sexual anyway ...)

Anyway, in my heart, he's still my President. And if anyone else out there wants to send him a get-well wish, they should go to the Clinton Presidential Center website.

Also, being several decades behind on my literary sci-fi reading, I have only just now discovered the joys of Marion Zimmer Bradley's Darkover books. I can hardly believe how wonderful these books are, and what truly believable characters the author populates them with. Simply amazing. I hope to have a full review of The Heritage of Hastur up here later. Wow, what a book!

Having been lured--against my better judgement if not exactly against my will--into the maelstrom that is Harry Potter fandom (damn you, Alan Rickman ...) I now find myself increasingly irritated with the books that spawned this phenomenon (I'm about 50 pages into The Goblet of Fire at present). It's not that the books aren't entertaining. They are indeed the compulsive page-turners that everyone says they are, but ...

Is it just my imagination, or are these books really as full of sexism and stereotypes as they seem to be? Doesn't it seem a little ... odd that Harry is constantly rewarded for, in essence, breaking the rules? Is there, perhaps, the faintest streak of cruelty in the author's sense of humor? I'm afraid that I find the Potter books, so far anyway, to be a rather maddening combination of good storytelling and moral inconsistency. Not to mention the fact that most of the characters seem to be all surface and no depth at this point. J.K. Rowling may be selling a million books per minute, but sadly, she's no Lloyd Alexander or Madeleine L'Engle when it comes to deeper meanings or poetic language. And while Margery Sharp's Miss Bianca may have been a classist snob, at least she knew the value of empathy, hard work, and of taking the time to correct one's proofs.

Or maybe I'm just missing something here?

Well, anyway, I was delighted to learn that I'm not the only Harry Potter naysayer in the world. Slate's Chris Suellentrop calls Harry a fraud in his wonderfully curmudgeonly assessment of the character, while Christine Schoefer of Salon.com muses on the disturbing tendency toward sexism in the Rowling books. These two pieces together do a fair job of crystalizing my disquiet about the Potter books, even as I enjoy certain aspects of them.

I'm currently at work on what's turning into a longish fanfic that's actually not set in the DS9 universe. (Imagine that!) It does, however, involve the "Blake's Seven," "Doctor Who," and "Farscape," universes. (Yup. All of 'em. Whew!) It's a challenge response and my deadline is tomorrow. With any luck, I should be able to meet it. I'll post a pointer to the finished piece here as soon as I can (that is, once the folks who are sponsoring the challenge give me the okay to do so).

In the meantime, I've discovered the joys of Netflix, a very cool online way to rent DVDs. I haven't been a regular movie-watcher in some time (well, in years, actually--even before I had a kid), but I seem to be catching up fast. Here are some of my recent favorites:

"About a Boy"--a funny, touching British comedy starring Hugh Grant. Actually, I don't have much of a thing for Grant (though he is undeniably cute), but he is wonderful here as a self-centered womanizer who develops a friendship with a troubled, nerdy 12-year-old kid. Wonderful stuff, and one of Grant's lines (about his own realization that "men are bastards" after sitting in on a single-parents group-therapy session) had me ROTFL.

"Eyes of Laura Mars"--an oldie but goodie from 1978. This film is a "supernatural thriller" that I remember as having received mixed reviews when it came out. I rented it only to watch the wonderful Rene Auberjonois, and was downright shocked to find that I really loved this film. It manages to be both campy and geuinely creepy, has a powerful theme song (Barbara Streisand's "Prisoner"), and above all, captures the cultural climate of the late 70s to utter perfection. Even the music is fun. In addition to Auberjonois (wonderfully over-the-top as a sympathetic gay character) Tommy Lee Jones is terrific in what must have been one of his very first film roles. At some point, I'm sure I'll rewatch this one again.

"Sex, Lies, and Videotape,"--funny, unsettling, poignant, and thought-provoking, this film explores the tangled relationships among four people, and among the subjects named in its title. James Spader is completely amazing in this film. His performance is so quiet and unassuming, and yet his character's troubled sexuality is the movie's center of gravity. He easily steals every scene he's in. The notions of cameras and "watching" as a substitute for sex and intimacy are important here, and culture studies types (like me) can have lots of fun with that, but it's the characters that really make the film work. This film also contains what must be the hottest seduction scene I've ever watched between two fully clothed people. Amazing. Don't let the "art movie" label scare you away.

"The Stickup"--James Spader again, in a much later role, as a cop on the run for various reasons (too divulge too many specifics would be to spoil the movie's wonderfully twisty plot). Suffice it to say that this film spins its narrative very craftily, constantly keeping the audience on its toes, and making viewers question their sympathies at every turn. Spader is delicious here, with sexy scenes aplenty (as well as a couple of glorious hurt/comfort moments for you fanfic readers out there). There's also some humor, especially in the film's portrayal of the FBI. An excellent bit of brain-candy.