I Cheated Myself, Like I Knew I Would
May. 8th, 2007 12:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
handful_ofdustToday was mostly dealing with Cal, who isn’t taking his convalescence well (not that he ever does). Since my tax refund cheque came halfway through the day, I had to take it to the bank, but this was complicated by the fact that Steve (once again) broke the front wheel off the stroller. So we walked halfway there, and I toted Cal back in a fireman’s carry most of the way back, with occasional stops for walking for a half-second, running to open random doors, melting down when told to stop that, flopping onto the sidewalk, etc. By the time we got back and he lay down on the floor again as I got the rest of the mail, screaming, I’d had it so up to here that I actually grabbed him by the ankles and started dragging him into the elevator, right in front of other tenants; I know I came off like some sort of demento-Mom, but fuck it. Don’t judge me, bitches! At least it meant I was able to pay off my Visa bill.
Other than that brief foray into dysfunctional family excitement, it was the usual roundelay of constant cleaning—three loads of laundry, cleaned, dried and put away, plus I’m just about to have to change over the full-but-done dishwasher, so I can start yet another load of dishes before I go to bed. I also made serious inroads into putting shit back where it’s "supposed" to live, especially in terms of cutting down those piles of books strewn every which way on every (un)available surface. Tomorrow: Vaccuming and countertops. Five bags of garbage mucked out thus far, including the grossest over-full diaper container I’ve seen in quite some time—and that reminds me, I really want to see if I can get rid of some of the stuff marked "to be stored", which is still moping annoyingly around in various shoved-full corners of the apartment. If I never have to see that bag full of books put aside to donate to the building library again, for example…particularly so because taking it down there takes maybe five fucking minutes, and the only reason it never gets done is that one of us (guess which one?) never wants to/thinks of it…
But anyhoo: Back in the world o’ crack—
For my money, the best way to translate Death Note to North America would be to approach it in much the same way its makers approached The Lost Room: To make it mordantly funny as well as creepy, lay in an infrastructure that’s physically gritty and psychologically empathetic, a world utterly dependent on the juxtaposition of the mythic with the mundane. And you’d also have to refine the whole concept of the Death Note itself somewhat…Steve suggests that it would be good to have a Talamasca-esque group which tracks the apparently random appearance of notebooks around the world, gathering and containing them whenever possible, which the N.A. version of L could end up getting contacted by/in touch with.
Finally, I still like the idea (not canon, but I don’t think I’m stretching it too far to go this way) that the main impulse behind "Reapers" dropping notebooks is to make more "Reapers", to make humans who get addicted to using the notebooks into new shinigami after their inevitable deaths—that it’s a suitably perverse way of the shinigami propagating, or maybe just relieving their own boredom and loneliness. And thus, eventually, our N.A. version of Light will maybe end up getting those Holocaust-smoke wings he so envied, after all.;)
Real work done: Finished the rewrite of "Room in the Tower", sent it off. Am well stuck in to that final MCO for John, and keep on checking the boards at school for that job-posting. Invoice for the last 250 questions, submitted. Did my training, and my stomach has gone down, so goodbye for ever, Japansnacks! You served me well, until you didn’t anymore.
Okay, I’m just about to fall over. Certainly be nice to see some other people this week, if they were amenable; I won’t be at the Reading of Single Pages, for obvious reasons, but Steve is probably going (and I would too, if anybody told me they genuinely wished I would. Ie: "Is there no one here who came to find me because they missed me?") But one way or another, ‘night, all.
Other than that brief foray into dysfunctional family excitement, it was the usual roundelay of constant cleaning—three loads of laundry, cleaned, dried and put away, plus I’m just about to have to change over the full-but-done dishwasher, so I can start yet another load of dishes before I go to bed. I also made serious inroads into putting shit back where it’s "supposed" to live, especially in terms of cutting down those piles of books strewn every which way on every (un)available surface. Tomorrow: Vaccuming and countertops. Five bags of garbage mucked out thus far, including the grossest over-full diaper container I’ve seen in quite some time—and that reminds me, I really want to see if I can get rid of some of the stuff marked "to be stored", which is still moping annoyingly around in various shoved-full corners of the apartment. If I never have to see that bag full of books put aside to donate to the building library again, for example…particularly so because taking it down there takes maybe five fucking minutes, and the only reason it never gets done is that one of us (guess which one?) never wants to/thinks of it…
But anyhoo: Back in the world o’ crack—
For my money, the best way to translate Death Note to North America would be to approach it in much the same way its makers approached The Lost Room: To make it mordantly funny as well as creepy, lay in an infrastructure that’s physically gritty and psychologically empathetic, a world utterly dependent on the juxtaposition of the mythic with the mundane. And you’d also have to refine the whole concept of the Death Note itself somewhat…Steve suggests that it would be good to have a Talamasca-esque group which tracks the apparently random appearance of notebooks around the world, gathering and containing them whenever possible, which the N.A. version of L could end up getting contacted by/in touch with.
Finally, I still like the idea (not canon, but I don’t think I’m stretching it too far to go this way) that the main impulse behind "Reapers" dropping notebooks is to make more "Reapers", to make humans who get addicted to using the notebooks into new shinigami after their inevitable deaths—that it’s a suitably perverse way of the shinigami propagating, or maybe just relieving their own boredom and loneliness. And thus, eventually, our N.A. version of Light will maybe end up getting those Holocaust-smoke wings he so envied, after all.;)
Real work done: Finished the rewrite of "Room in the Tower", sent it off. Am well stuck in to that final MCO for John, and keep on checking the boards at school for that job-posting. Invoice for the last 250 questions, submitted. Did my training, and my stomach has gone down, so goodbye for ever, Japansnacks! You served me well, until you didn’t anymore.
Okay, I’m just about to fall over. Certainly be nice to see some other people this week, if they were amenable; I won’t be at the Reading of Single Pages, for obvious reasons, but Steve is probably going (and I would too, if anybody told me they genuinely wished I would. Ie: "Is there no one here who came to find me because they missed me?") But one way or another, ‘night, all.
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no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 04:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 06:51 pm (UTC)Charlene and Hayden are probably coming down to not-participate, (they'll go with Susan and Rebecca; we're hoping that Jen and Evan will also put in a similar non-appearance)
Failing that, (and for Sarah) we do have speaker-phone capability for non-attending participation.
Paul
no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 08:50 pm (UTC)Well, all right, then. As the host, you've certainly got the deciding vote.;) Expect me there.