Late/Early, O Miller
May. 27th, 2009 12:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
handful_ofdustTomorrow's going to be one of those amazing grinds, yet again--get Cal to school for 8:30, get to the dentist for 9:00, get two fillings, hopefully get over to pick him up at 11:00, take him to Surrey Place. Afterwards, we'll see if I'm too knackered to kick and punch my way through BodyCombat.
So no 500 words before breakfast, and probably not later on, either. I spent today doing research, mainly--amusingly, one of the things I read while taking a break was somebody's rant about how most noir heroes strike her as "speshul snoflakes" with "protagonist privilege" (gee, I dunno; between a protagonist who convinces themself they have the right to do something and thus actually does something vs. a protagonist who accepts that they probably don't have the right to do anything and thus does nothing, I know which one I'd choose to write/read about), which filters extremely well into the coming throw-down between ex-preacher/hex-slinger Reverend Rook and preacher/gunslinger Sheriff Mesach Love:
Love: "So you've got magic powers, huh? Well, isn't that special! Aren't you just a special little antidinomian snowflake!"
Rook: "Um...yeah, I do feel sort of special, really. You know I could just drop a mountain on you, right?"
Love: "Because your powers come from Satan! I cast you out, devil! Get out! I'm strong in the power of the Lord! Oh, I'm just full of His power!"
Rook: "Well, you're sure full of somethin'."
Other fun stuff: I've officially decided to play Love like a cross between the lead singer of 16 Horsepower (those braids!) and Jared Padalecki in full Satan-begone! tainted exorcist mode. As Rook says: "Son, that's some load of pride you got there. Hell, it's like lookin' in a mirror, give or take the sodomy."
Anyhow: Late again, roily again. I need to get everything packed for tomorrow, and try to get to sleep.
So no 500 words before breakfast, and probably not later on, either. I spent today doing research, mainly--amusingly, one of the things I read while taking a break was somebody's rant about how most noir heroes strike her as "speshul snoflakes" with "protagonist privilege" (gee, I dunno; between a protagonist who convinces themself they have the right to do something and thus actually does something vs. a protagonist who accepts that they probably don't have the right to do anything and thus does nothing, I know which one I'd choose to write/read about), which filters extremely well into the coming throw-down between ex-preacher/hex-slinger Reverend Rook and preacher/gunslinger Sheriff Mesach Love:
Love: "So you've got magic powers, huh? Well, isn't that special! Aren't you just a special little antidinomian snowflake!"
Rook: "Um...yeah, I do feel sort of special, really. You know I could just drop a mountain on you, right?"
Love: "Because your powers come from Satan! I cast you out, devil! Get out! I'm strong in the power of the Lord! Oh, I'm just full of His power!"
Rook: "Well, you're sure full of somethin'."
Other fun stuff: I've officially decided to play Love like a cross between the lead singer of 16 Horsepower (those braids!) and Jared Padalecki in full Satan-begone! tainted exorcist mode. As Rook says: "Son, that's some load of pride you got there. Hell, it's like lookin' in a mirror, give or take the sodomy."
Anyhow: Late again, roily again. I need to get everything packed for tomorrow, and try to get to sleep.
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