Jun. 14th, 2016

daemonluna: default icon, me with totoros (Default)
I got militant on Facebook, friends. So I decided to share here, too, even though I think there are only three or four of you still reading.

My library's been hosting some events for Pride this month. Weekly movies, an author event, a meet-up play date for the local queer parent group. Last Wednesday, we went out to watch Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. The Pride Fest organizers had a photo op set up with the festival banners, and a white board to finish the sentence, "I need Pride because..."

And we got there just on time, and I didn't have a snappy phrase ready. And the movie ended, and it was late and I was tired, and my half-formed thoughts about inclusiveness and visibility hadn't come together yet.
We need Pride. We need Pride because fifty people are dead in an Orlando gay bar. Because last year, someone shouted "fucking fags" at the crowd during the Pride flag raising at City Hall. Because I spent Thursday afternoon drafting an email with a coworker to respond to a customer complaint about the Pride display at the library branch, and the library's endorsement of homosexual propaganda, and she was indignant, and I was just tired. Because when my wife and I held hands across the table at IHOP last year, we got a heartfelt note from our server on the back of the receipt, because he didn't feel brave enough to hold hands with his boyfriend in public. Because my wife felt that she needed to tell the B&B owners in Drumheller that we were a gay couple when she made the reservation for a trip last weekend.

We need Pride because the outrage and sorrow at the Orlando shootings has been, in the mainstream media I've seen, free from any implied blame of the victims' "lifestyle" for their deaths. Because at the flag raising last year, the crowd was several hundred people strong, and one of our elected officials was speaking at the time. Because I know that I'm not defending the library's participation in Pride events to our CEO and board, that my colleague could call the City's diversity and inclusion officer for advice, that my coworkers will be walking with me (on work time) in the Pride parade. Because I didn't think twice about holding my wife's hand at IHOP, and the B&B owners didn't bat an eye and were incredibly friendly and accommodating.

Because it wasn't always this way.

It gets better because we're making it better. It's hard. Some days are harder than others, and in the aftermath of tragedy, it's easy to lose sight of how far we've come. But, my friends and dear ones, please, keep showing up. All identities and orientations, keep showing up. We need to know we're all in this together. Stop and listen to your friends who are angry and heartbroken by violence, and tell them you love them. Come to Pride, to the parade and party, or the movie, or the author event, or anything else, and show that you think it's important and that our community is part of something bigger. Speak up when you see hate or ignorance. Speak up in the face of indifference.

Because you are, and you do, and you will. And I have to believe, it will get better, because we've made it so far already.
daemonluna: default icon, me with totoros (Default)
*facepalm* Oh, fandom brain.

Actual headline: Trudeau trades blows with Tony Stark in new Marvel comic

My brain took out the "trades" and "with."

And in other news, thing #2, the kitten is very helpful. He is helpful kitten. He wants to help with cooking things. He will taste the edges to make sure that the swiss chard and the beet greens are all good. He will sample the ends of the fresh beans. He will nibble on the zucchini stems. WHY won't we let him help? WHYYYYY?

#3: Things I have learned in the past weeks: when a publisher offers to send you books for festival prizes, it's prudent to ask how many. 3,733 books. Between 12-200 copies of each title. 59 boxes. Three skids. After much sorting and giving away to other libraries, programs, projects, I thiiiink I am down to about 1,600 unhomed books...?
daemonluna: Giles from Buffy says Happy Halloween (btvs halloween)
I have a not so secret love of ghost stories, and Barb and I both share the same reality ghost show guilty pleasure. Though usually on weekend mornings. AKA, in the daytime.

Favourite not too scary let-me-tell-you-about-historical-things show: Great British Ghosts

Favourite "true story" recreation show: Paranormal Witness (although in later seasons, really, someone needed to tell them to cut back the odd bits of CG by about 70%). I am not terribly fond of the ones that are essentially "dude-bros yell at ghosts."

New favourite not-a-reality-show: The Living And The Dead. I have mixed feelings about the ending, as well-plotted and clever as it all was, and was disappointed to hear that there wasn't going to be a second season. But I enjoyed the swoopy BBC landscapes and period costumes, and excellent soundtrack nonetheless.

And now, Jezebel.com is doing their annual scary stories open post! The last few years, I've ended up reading all the comments on Halloween after the trick-or-treaters are gone. Barb will be working until 9:30 on Halloween night this year. Um. I got smart and started early, mostly during the day. It's an open invitation to their readers to share real-life spooky experiences, supernatural or not, and a few days before Halloween, they'll post a round-up of the top ten.

Past and current highlights:

Murder truck
The suicide car
Venka
The little girl who wasn't
The dairy barn
The Armoire
Despair
Count the crosses
Black-Eyed Children
Doors
James wouldn't like this
The house echoes
Accidental devil worshippers
That's not Papaw
Take care of Persephone
The green hand
The white lady

And I reallllly need to stop reading the comment thread at night now...
daemonluna: default icon, me with totoros (Default)
 Me: spends all last weekend playing a dating sim game, spends a week and 5,000 words dissecting why two of the characters' marriage fell apart and how it might fit back together. (Somehow manage to screw up my shoulder while doing so. Yes, I sustained an injury writing fanfic.)

Barb:
finishes rewatching season one of Deadwood, gets word today that she's sold the next book in a series, submits to an invite-only anthology this weekend, knocks out 1,900 words of Seth Bullock/Wild Bill sex in an evening. (Seth Bullock/Al Swearingen is next, she promises.)

(PS to [personal profile] zulu : Barb is rereading one of her SGA fic, and says "You crawl! You crawl like John, when Kolya says you crawl!" - relic of a misspent youth of drunken download parties.)

daemonluna: default icon, me with totoros (Default)
I got militant on Facebook, friends. So I decided to share here, too, even though I think there are only three or four of you still reading.

My library's been hosting some events for Pride this month. Weekly movies, an author event, a meet-up play date for the local queer parent group. Last Wednesday, we went out to watch Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. The Pride Fest organizers had a photo op set up with the festival banners, and a white board to finish the sentence, "I need Pride because..."

And we got there just on time, and I didn't have a snappy phrase ready. And the movie ended, and it was late and I was tired, and my half-formed thoughts about inclusiveness and visibility hadn't come together yet.
We need Pride. We need Pride because fifty people are dead in an Orlando gay bar. Because last year, someone shouted "fucking fags" at the crowd during the Pride flag raising at City Hall. Because I spent Thursday afternoon drafting an email with a coworker to respond to a customer complaint about the Pride display at the library branch, and the library's endorsement of homosexual propaganda, and she was indignant, and I was just tired. Because when my wife and I held hands across the table at IHOP last year, we got a heartfelt note from our server on the back of the receipt, because he didn't feel brave enough to hold hands with his boyfriend in public. Because my wife felt that she needed to tell the B&B owners in Drumheller that we were a gay couple when she made the reservation for a trip last weekend.

We need Pride because the outrage and sorrow at the Orlando shootings has been, in the mainstream media I've seen, free from any implied blame of the victims' "lifestyle" for their deaths. Because at the flag raising last year, the crowd was several hundred people strong, and one of our elected officials was speaking at the time. Because I know that I'm not defending the library's participation in Pride events to our CEO and board, that my colleague could call the City's diversity and inclusion officer for advice, that my coworkers will be walking with me (on work time) in the Pride parade. Because I didn't think twice about holding my wife's hand at IHOP, and the B&B owners didn't bat an eye and were incredibly friendly and accommodating.

Because it wasn't always this way.

It gets better because we're making it better. It's hard. Some days are harder than others, and in the aftermath of tragedy, it's easy to lose sight of how far we've come. But, my friends and dear ones, please, keep showing up. All identities and orientations, keep showing up. We need to know we're all in this together. Stop and listen to your friends who are angry and heartbroken by violence, and tell them you love them. Come to Pride, to the parade and party, or the movie, or the author event, or anything else, and show that you think it's important and that our community is part of something bigger. Speak up when you see hate or ignorance. Speak up in the face of indifference.

Because you are, and you do, and you will. And I have to believe, it will get better, because we've made it so far already.

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