glvalentine: (Default)
It's not just a sub-par Moby lyric, IT'S ACTUALLY TRUE.

(That is an actual thought I had at Launchpad, while we were learning about the most common substances in the universe. It's easy to dismiss Moby for everything after Play - not only easy, but probably a good idea - but the dude got some factual information about science at some point, that much is clear.)

Meanwhile, the Hubble, which is determined to show us how much we'll regret letting it just fall apart in space, is taking pretty pictures just to spite us.

Dear Earth,

You know what? I am just taking pictures out here because it's pretty and I feel like it. Don't think this is about you, Earth, you hear me? Because I am over you. I don't want you to worry about me, or feel guilty about just giving up on me forever, or anything like that, because I could not care less. You have fun with your James Webb Space Telescope, okay? Because I don't even know what I ever saw in you, and I've got better things than you coming up.

No love,


(Not pictured: filename "neenerneener.jpg")

Also, yes, I have probably turned into one of Those Kids Who Won't Shut Up About How Fun Camp Was*, and you'll be regularly hearing about astronomy alongside movies and costuming. (Uh, fair warning for those who hate the night sky, I guess?)

As a kid I loved staring at whatever stars I could see (mmm, suburban light pollution), and I knew the mythology of the various constellations without having a sense of their real scope (or, let's face it, knowing where many of them were). Launchpad really filled in some of the handwavey places in my brain and rekindled that little-kid love affair with the sky. It's like I'm a kid again, only now I'm a really tall kid who knows terms like "visual binary" and pays taxes and has realized planes are not actually fun to be on like your parents always said they were!

* To be fair, I have not, nor will I ever, like an actual camp. I was out on Vedauwoo for less than three hours and I managed to wound myself and have an allergic reaction. The best thing about astronomy is that you can do it anywhere where you can look up, like penthouses with skylights. This will involve making new friends who have skylights in their penthouses, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
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When I worked for the event planner, back in 1874, we did a lot of serious parties. Usually they were weddings, but there were a surprising number of dream birthdays as well. Those parties were generally a lot fancier than I could have imagined. (You think Gossip Girl is completely fake and impossible, but I assure you, I only ever looked at those parties and thought, "They've understaffed." It's all reaaaaal!)

I am not a huge party person, but those parties still seemed a little empty, because very few of them were based on movies. Specifically, the best party of all time:

I have thought for years and continue to think this is the best party idea of all time. (Except for the threats-from-violent-gangs part and the running-from-the-cops part and the 1/3-of-your-guests-will-perish-and/or-get-picked-up-by-the-cops part, but no party is perfect, and this is still better than some of the parties I've been to.)

The problem with that party is logistics. All of them.

It's hard to ask people to haul ass as high as 100th St (where the movie's first chase scenes were filmed), wander casually down to 72nd street, get into a fight with baseball bats, hang out in Union Square for several hours, then hop the train down to Coney Island at dawn (before anything is open). Even if you are actually planning a party and not being a hopeless smartass, there's no reason to do this; it's long and exhausting, and by the time you get to Coney, even if things were open at 7am, everyone's too tired to hit the Wonder Wheel or anything.

I even tried to schedule this party once, before I realized it was impossible for anyone with a day job or a circadian rhythm or anything. And yet, every summer I get a brief, flickering urge to do it, because if done right, it would be the best party in the world, ever.

(This post brought to you by trying to think of ways to make my sister suffer in the name of my birthday. I was THISCLOSE to getting her to sit through the midnight show of Eclipse. SO CLOSE.)
glvalentine: (omg no)
It's gonna be an awesome night.

Mostly it's awesome because I'm watching the Riverworld miniseries so I can report on it for tomorrow. least Peter Wingfield is still getting work? (Whatever, I can't wait. B-Movie Actor Bingo, PLUS, Vancouver looks lovely whatever time of year this was filmed!)

Another thing this weekend that looks great is my new website, courtesy of [ profile] mkhobson, who managed to fulfill all my nitpicky requests in record time! She even helped drag me over the tech threshold to whatever Wordpress is using now, so my dashboard isn't constantly complaining that I never give it nice things. (I guess I still didn't. Whatever, Wordpress, you're not my real dad!)

Now, off to make cereal for dinner and settle in to watch Alan Cumming play a blue bondage monk. Thumbs up, everyone!

Wolf moon!

Jan. 29th, 2010 10:02 pm
glvalentine: (valemon)
So, last night I bolted awake because of a bright flashlight in my eyes, which turned out to be the moon, shining through my closed blinds and curtains. The moon: second-pushiest celestial body.

Turns out this website about space agrees with me; tonight is the "wolf moon," the biggest full moon of the year, something something perigee something.

(I'm ashamed how little I know about astronomy; for someone who stays up as late as I do, I should probably look out the window a little more often. Apologies to Heather, who knows all sorts about the moon and is probably ashamed of my ignorance. I promise to learn, Heather!)

Just for kicks, I checked outside earlier. For anyone who was worried, the moon is looking just fine.
glvalentine: (nerd alert)
Welcome to France picspam, Part Two!

Fun fact: I have already forgotten which of these things we did on which day, because I have a brain like a sieve. Enjoy my manufactured retelling of events!

Beginning with a driving interlude (to keep the rest of France spoiler-free, I guess?):

My sister took this photo and said, "It's so Six Feet Under!" (That's my girl.)

Spoilers for France, apparently! )
glvalentine: (nerd alert)
So, last night some people talked about Kirk v. Every Other Captain Ever, for values of "every" that included "Picard and Adama, and also Janeway one time." I wrote it up for

I do think that the lack of discussion on some of the other captains was largely a time issue; if we'd had another hour, hopefully we'd have hit Sisko, Janeway, Archer, and Babylon 5. (And Farscape. And Galaxy Quest. And Farscape.*) However, it was really sad to see Sisko get handwaved away, half-jokingly, as "not even Trek." I didn't watch the show religiously or anything, and Picard's my favorite captain, but damn, give a dude time to make a case for himself!

(You can ignore Archer if you want to. His theme song had lyrics. There's no good can come from that.)

Anyway, by all means hop over to Tor and weigh in on your favorite overlooked starship captains, because even if you had a character named Tuvix, you deserve a day in the sun.**

* Seriously, the dynamics of a crew when there's no clear captain and the ship pilots itself and is sentient enough to refuse some assignments as too dangerous? I'm in for that chat!

** I still think the Tuvix episode was awesome on paper. It just...Kate Mulgrew is not cut out for Captain's Logs, and that guest star was cut out to chew scenery, and it just fell down on the job. Which, in fairness, can be said of the whole series. Amazing premise!...that fell down on the job.
glvalentine: (Default)
Generally my music-scene knowledge is limited to movie-soundtrack composers, songs I hear on TV, and bands that were around when I was thirteen (Roxette 4ever!). However, once in a while I will see someone and think, "I must find out about this person AT ONCE."

Her name is Lady Gaga, and she kicks everyone's ass in this room.

Also, she's a stalagmite. )
glvalentine: (nerd alert)
New Watchmen photos are out, and I give Zack Snyder credit for doing his homework over on

Seriously, this is shaping up to be an aesthetically careful adaptation. However, I am (finally) beginning to worry that the movie will be too badass for the book. I mean, how much of this movie is gonna end up in slow motion? (My guess: 70%.)

Then I look at Veidt's purple blazer and realize that everyone will look just as pathetic as they're supposed to. (Where do you even FIND fabric that color? Damn.)

Also, seriously, too much Dr. Manhattan. I get it; he's blue. Show me more Minutemen!
glvalentine: (Default)
So at today I'm talking about the new Watchmen portraits and what these might mean in terms of the adaptation from page to screen. The answer is mostly, "It looks good! TOO GOOD. Also, Laurie, go put on some pants. What are you, nine?"

However, anyone who has read an X-Men comic knows that Laurie got off easy. You know whose costume really sucked? Casablanca-records-sponsored mutant Dazzler! Who I hate. Let me show you why!

That's not even why. That's just how the poor thing looks.

Disclaimer: I am not well-versed on this; in a conversation about comics, I'm out-comic'ed in about two minutes. All I know is what I read as a thirteen-year-old, instead of leaving my room ever. That was mostly X-Men.

But seriously, Dazzler sucks.

She had her own miniseries back in the day, inexplicably called "Beauty and the Beast," where she flipped out because of the pressures of fame and couldn't control her power and had to go to Heartbreak Hotel (actual name) and attempt some mutant rehab. Meanwhile, Beast is all, "How about we go to the State Fair on Tuesday? I have my dad's car for the weekend," and she's all, "I can't believe that you, who are ugly, have more control than I, the beautiful one!"

You can start reading the synopsis of the series here, but I got acid flashbacks and had to stop.

The thing I most remember is her talking to the young girl who lives/works there, and finds out her mutant power is that she can change the color of a flower. Seeing this, Dazzler thinks, and I quote, "Hmm…makes sense that nature would have scattered a few lesser powers among all us big-time mutants," which is pretty big talk for a woman whose power is basically to channel garage bands into the Fiesta Texas nightly laser show.

She sucks, is what I'm saying.

And what I'm really saying is, it never hurts to have good-looking costumes in your movie, but I have a sneaking hope that even in awesome latex costumes, everyone is still as lame as they should be. Right, Dazzler? (Oh yeah, I went there.)
glvalentine: (nerd alert)
I'll be staring at these soothing fish instead.

Click to feed them; they also follow your cursor. They also put you into a dopamine stupor - just saying.

glvalentine: (Default)
Phantom of the Opera sequel in the works.

The follow-up to “Phantom,” which debuted in 1986 with Michael Crawford in the lead role, will take place a decade after the original, with the story set on Brooklyn’s Coney Island.

“It was the place,” Lloyd Webber said. “Even Freud went because it was so extraordinary … people who were freaks and oddities were drawn towards it because it was a place where they could be themselves.”

And the Phantom, who perishes at the end of the original musical, will reunite with lost love Christine. The iconic roles have yet to be cast. “We are pretty clear who our Phantom is going to be — I can’t say who,” Lloyd Webber said.

Well, check out this scoop. I already know who it is.

Christiiiiine, come out to plaaaaaaay....

You know it would be amazing! You KNOW it would. Mme. Giry would kill so many Turnbull ACs with that cane it would not even be funny.

This is going to be the best sequel of all time, except for that sequel to Les Mis where Marius and Cosette move to St. Louis and she pops out three kids and gets bored and starts taking night classes at community college trying to do something with her life, and he starts drinking because of the stress down at the plant, and then at the end Eponine shows up to promote her hugely successful self-help book "Hopeless Causes: How to Break Away When The Guy You Like Only Notices You Once You're Riddled with Bullet Holes," and when she sees Marius he begs her to forgive him and run away with him and she cracks up and is like, "Peace out, suckers!" and she and Gavroche jump in their convertible and drive off towards California.
glvalentine: (nerd alert)
This year, Santa comes wearing a Rainbow Sweater:

And brings the gift of Wesley's Pullover Collection, a journey in photographs of the many sartorial glories of our man Wesley Crusher.

Happy holidays...FROM THE FUTURE.
glvalentine: (nerd alert)
I remain convinced that Trivial Pursuit can only be played by people who are in it for the laughs. If played at all seriously, it has the potential to rip families apart.
glvalentine: (nerd alert)
You guys, I've discovered the best underground show of the season.

As Sartre would say, "Cette une programme obligatoire, comprendez-vous?"*

* Who has two thumbs, speaks limited French, and hasn't cried once today? THIS MOI.
glvalentine: (nerd alert)
Let's talk about the time in eighth grade I had to rewrite Midsummer Night's Dream.

I spent eighth grade in a Catholic school in the Midwest (thanks, Mom and Dad!). Of the six schools I attended between first grade and high school, this was by far the worst. The entire graduating class was twenty-two kids, total, and I was the one of the few who didn't come from Serious Money. I was also the one who protested the absence of evolution in our science class and spent 4th period in the principal's office all year reading The Origin of Species as a protest. Good times, is what I'm saying.

Every year the eighth-grade class put on a play. The year I was there, the play was A Midsummer Night's Dream.

And I got to rewrite it! No joke. )

Called it.

Nov. 7th, 2008 10:28 am
glvalentine: (Default)
My recent column for Fantasy lists Somewhere in Time as one of the fantasy films that ruined it for the rest of us by dint of being a "soft-focus romance with five minutes of plot in a hundred minutes of sap".

One of Stephenie Meyer's biggest inspirations for Twilight: Somewhere in Time.

Called it.

Which reminds me: in a fit of Schadenfreude, I bought tickets to the midnight opening of Twilight. I suspect it will be MARVELOUS. I hope to liveblog the line, and laugh my ass off for two hours, and report back.

Actually, when it comes down to it, I just hope I get out of that movie with my tympanic membranes intact. Chances are not good. (This video is terrifying. It's the sound of a mob right before the orgy breaks out, you know?)
glvalentine: (Default)
So, doing research is sometimes more fun than writing.

Behold! An amazing book of etiquette from 1891.

It's just as awesome as you could imagine. As someone who is often at a loss in social situations (damn you, salad fork, why must you look exactly like the dessert fork!), there's something appealing about the idea of a book of manners that everyone is expected to read and follow. Practically, I know this leads to cotillion, so I won't wish it on anyone.

(Note: everything I know about cotillion I learned from All I Want For Christmas, in which the young Ethan Embry (nee Randall) rescues his crush from a boring cotillion and proceeds to woo her in a diner? I think.)

(Oh, that and I went to a year of middle school in Texas, where girls were already discussing their coming-outs and how hard it would be to curtsey and how they were ALREADY PRACTICING for their curtseys. I was writing X-Files scripts in ProWrite on my dad's computer when everyone was asleep. Just saying, thanks for that year in Catholic school, Mom and Dad!)


Dresses are from 1880, not 1891, but by 1891 everyone looked like a Gibson Girl and it gets all upsetting.

Ladies and gents, if you ever wondered what to do with your calling cards, well, now you'll know! )
glvalentine: (Default)
This poor soul is named Imogen Poots.

I think that while the initial horror of this name is obvious, it isn’t nearly as frightening as the realization that this young woman chose to enter the public sphere with this name. I mean, she looked at her birth certificate and said, “Last Name: Poots. All set! I am going to be a STAR.”

Now, I’m sure you’re thinking, ‘As long as she can act, what’s the problem?’ Well, let me tell you right now, impertinent imaginary-question-asker, the problem is coded into her name. One look at the anagrams of this almost unbelievable name and several things come to light:

Emoting Oops - Well, firstly, she’s not much of an actress.

Mongoose Pit - And she hates wildlife! What a bitch.

Pigeons Moot - First mongooses, now pigeons. When will her reign of terror end?!

Spinet Go Moo - And she’ll never be able to fall back on ‘concert pianist’, either.

Egoism No Top - Well, no wonder she has such issues with self-esteem. Can’t act, can’t play!

Nepotism Goo - Buuut it looks like she’ll make out just fine.
glvalentine: (costume)
So, my gateway comic was not X-Men (though with my Rogue comic collection, you'd think so). No, my first comic was Katy Keene.

Katy Keene, for those not in the know, was a "reporter". Her main job was to provide a blank canvas for design-challenged girls the world over to send in designs for Katy to wear while she was working. Not that it was hard, since she was the sort who covered the red carpet beat on the arm of an actor. Sometimes she went on safari in short-shorts and a hat with a big veil. She always found a koala baby, or equivalent.

She also had a paper doll inside every issue, with clothes designed by girls aged 12-17 or so. This one is pretty typical:

Picture by Vermont Ferret; click here for more detail.

Please note the one amazing outfit (purple walking suit), one sort of fun outfit (blue dress with orange and black polka-dot lining), and a bathing suit - covered in lipstick kisses! Lesbiantastic!

Then come the apeshit crazy costumes, like the green tutu with a trowel. Just...what? Katy does a lot of burlesque gardening in her spare time, I guess?

This comic ran from the 50s through the 80s. It is my number-one proof in the argument that adolescents have no taste.

Like you need more proof. )


glvalentine: (Default)
Genevieve Valentine

September 2010

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