Apr. 30th, 2004

Ficmecium

Apr. 30th, 2004 08:36 am
neadods: (Default)
Itty bitty ficcy inspired by a lot of channel flipping last night:

“Gil, who’s this?” Coroner Robinson shifted on his crutch to hold out his hand to the dark haired young woman.

”She’s your new assistant; I thought you and David could use some help. Say hello to Tru Davies.”


(I was so tired last night and flipping so often that at one point I was surprised because the corpses weren't talking to Grissom!)

The frell?

Apr. 30th, 2004 09:01 am
neadods: (angry/TwilightGods)
Warning, political rant below.

Last Sunday, I saw several 6 x 8-foot posters of what was supposedly an 8-week old aborted fetus interspersed with signs listing numbers of abortions performed. Why? Because there were folks out there who felt that if we all faced the ramifications of being pro-choice, we would change our minds.

Tonight in 8 cities, Nightline will be pre-empted because it is showing the pictures and reading the names of all U.S. personnel killed in Iraq. Why? Because the Sinclair Broadcast Group feels that if the US faces the ramifications of being pro-Iraqi war, we will change our minds and votes this "trivializes the deaths of our brave servicemen and women."

In one month we will be honoring the fallen in all wars. I guess we're only supposed to honor them when they're tidily underground and nothing but names on a rock, since the sight of their coffins or their faces is so problematical.

Can someone explain to me why we're supposed to mourn about every human life that ends before it has a face and family who wants it, but to be shielded from the knowledge of how many who were born and wanted have died? Why were the teens angry about the loss of "1/3 of their classmates" who'd they never even met NOT angry about the friends they already had being slaughtered off? Why am I supposed to care deeply about the death of someone who is six cells small and in someone else's uterus, but not about someone who is six feet tall and in a military uniform?

I don't get it.
neadods: (reading)
This is the first time I've gone to Malice Domestic, a 16-year-old mystery con in Virginia.

Wow, what I've been missing!

I signed up this year because Marion Babson is a guest, and I love her stuff. Once I had signed up, I started drooling at the panels listed on the website - How to Write a Short Mystery, Historical Mysteries, Crossing Over (authors who write protagonists of the opposite gender), etc., etc., etc. (Go to the website to check them all.)

I didn't stay long today; just long enough to register, shop, and sell my Dresden Files books to [livejournal.com profile] carlacoupe. Like WFC, registration is one of those "here's your badge and stuffed bookbag deals."

And what a bookbag! Nevermind what's in it, we've got hand and shoulder straps, full-length side zip, pen pocket and a cell phone bay.

Unlike WFC, there were fewer books (only one hardback for example). And the general attitude about them was different too. At WFC, people picked through them silently, or dumped what they didn't want on a table and walked off.

At Malice, which is a cozy con (they meant the genre, but it also describes the attitude), women sat around the hotel lobby trading. Although there was the moment when I told someone who had just sat down across from me "I'm trading books! Interested?" only to get the small, nervous response "I hope you're not giving away mine!"

Fortunately, I hadn't even seen her book, much less given it away. So I traded something else for one of hers. Autographed!

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