Moe Lane's Blog, page 638
November 17, 2021
Snippet, THE STARS ARE WRONG.
I’m trying to make wordcount on the book. I have a schedule. It’s important. So of course I started a short story today.
Patreon!I do not know if any other eyes besides my own will ever view these pages, or indeed if I will do anything else besides immediately offer them up to the water. Perhaps I shall consign these ink-flecked sheets to a locked desk drawer, safely hidden from speculative eyes, until they and the words upon them finally swell and molder away in peace. But I do not think that peace will be found in these lands for much longer, nor that the new world to come will have an easy birth. It seems more likely that these pages will instead burn, in some future conflagration. If that is their fate – to be consumed by the searing horror of the flames – then appreciate this grim jest, oh unseen and imaginary Reader: the fire was likely started by my own trembling hand, however unwillingly.
It is not a very good jest, I am afraid. But then, I am not the man that I once was.
The DUNE Honest Trailer.
Am I the only person who knew going in that DUNE was a two-parter? Because it feels that way, sometimes. I mean, it was pretty obvious that you couldn’t stuff the entire book into one movie.
…Right?
November 16, 2021
NaNoWriMo, Day 16: 1,510 / 36,720
Yeah, I was off watching Avatar: The Last Airbender clips. It was a neccesary thing. I regret nothing.
Patreon!And on that cheery note: I was off to the counselor. Normally I have a session on Saturdays, but I had easily had enough craziness today to justify an additional visit. And it’s better to get the bad stuff out of your head as quickly as you can, before it can fester.
I didn’t expect my regular live therapist to be available, so I wasn’t surprised when John wasn’t. But I knew Diana a little; well enough that she could lead me through the talk therapy part of the session, at least. This isn’t a big set of settlements. Everybody usually ends up meeting each other.
It also helped that we were using the emergency checklist, instead of the standard weekly one. Diana didn’t speed me through it as I disrobed and put on a paper gown, but we didn’t dawdle, either. And actually, she was pretty good at figuring out what were the top five neuroses I had likely just encouraged. Maybe even better than John would have, but I like John. That’s even more important when working with a live therapist. The personal touch helps a lot.
But don’t think Diana wasn’t competent, either. I was in just the right mood when I took the pill, then put in my bite guard: slightly tense, aware of my likely incipient hangups, and grimly ready to pop them like balloons before they could do the same to me. Because you really want to be motivated when they send that electrical charge through the induction helmet, let me tell you. The more motivated you are going in, the less time it takes before you can get out.
Casting continues on Live-Action Avatar: Paul Sun-Hyung Lee as Uncle Iroh.
As I said on Twitter: I’ll allow it. I’d say that Iroh is an absolutely critical character to cast correctly, but that would imply that some of the characters in AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER are not absolutely critical. If we simply must have this show, then by God I want them sweating on who to pick for the Cabbages Guy…
#commissionearned
Paul Sun-Hyung Lee has been cast as Uncle Iroh in Netflix’s live-action ‘AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER’ series. pic.twitter.com/141ScZ7X9S
— DiscussingFilm (@DiscussingFilm) November 16, 2021
The “I DO Want to Watch This” SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME trailer.
It must have been nice, being able to use all the past Spider-Man villains like that. Especially the Alfred Molina Doc Ock. I’d watch this movie if he was the only one they had gotten. #commissionearned
The “I Don’t WANT To Watch This…” DON’T LOOK UP trailer.
…but I might end up watching DON’T LOOK UP, in spite of myself.
.@DontLookUpFilm is in select theaters December 10 and on @Netflix December 24. @netflixfilm #dontlookup pic.twitter.com/tHgP8hupmM
— Leonardo DiCaprio (@LeoDiCaprio) November 16, 2021
It unfortunately rings… true to life. Although I fully expect that they will tone it down, just a bit. In the official response, that is. Scientific literacy is… thin on the ground in the Imperial District, and this is an English major saying that.
Tweet of the Day, Anonymous MEGASPIDER donation edition.
It takes a special breed of hero to run an Australian wildlife donation program. I am not a particularly fearful man, and I would not agree to take on that kind of responsibility. I have kids.
Massive "megaspider" has scientists super excited, due to inch-long fangs and lots of venom.
— Brian Faughnan (@BrianFaughnan) November 16, 2021
Three guesses which continent, and two don't count.https://t.co/sNJnvIEMQ1
November 15, 2021
NaNoWriMo, Day 15: 1,550 / 35,210.
59% done! Huzzah!
Patreon!Close up, the shuttle didn’t look nearly as ‘mostly intact;’ in fact, I didn’t expect it would ever fly again. We’ve come a long way in the last century, but most of our equipment still looks like a child’s imitation when compared to Amalgamation tech. I can’t crash a hauler, except under extremely specific circumstances involving the sudden loss of the contragrav units. The best I could do would be to kind of damage the bottom of the hull, and tear up the landing zone. Here, we were just lucky that Burcu had been flying solo. I made a note to check later just why she had been flying solo, although I guess it was probably because of the dark Terran god Security.
On the marginally bright side, Amalgamation fire suppressant goo is amazingly good at crawling over burning-hot metal and plastic, and taking all that heat away: the last of it was oozing back into its vats as I popped the explosive bolts on the emergency access hatch. Inside it smelled vile, naturally, but I had nose filters for that. At least there weren’t any sparks. Sparks meant live wires, and live wires were bad.
I’d like to say that Burcu died quick and clean, but neither would be true; her body was crunched together in the front of the cockpit, her flesh mottled with bruises where it hadn’t been gashed horribly. Her face was mercifully obscured by her hair and helmet, but I could see teeth and fragments of bone scattered on the floor. And blood, of course. Or, rather, the shadows of blood on the walls, where the gore had boiled away under the fierce heat of the crash.
