Mar. 19th, 2017

spikethemuffin: (Gardening)
Things no-one talks about with Heinlein:

1. Drug abuse advocacy that Hunter S. Thompson would raise an eyebrow at. Bad enough in The Puppet Masters, let us never talk about the "fucking sedate your wife with Miltown, Seconal, and alcohol until things are bad enough she is forced to run away and live with a dude who uses her son as a brood stallion in lieu of rent" method of marriage counseling (AFAIK never advocated by Dr. Phil) in Farnham's Freehold (and you know, I never noticed that, despite the freehold in question has Mrs. Farnham 2.0 and two Farnhams Junior living there, the place given uses the possessive apostrophe appropriate to a single possessor. Ew. I hope that was his editor's decision);

2. Advocated using gelatin in scrambled eggs in I Will Fear No Evil. I have not tried this, but I just... can't. It seems like a super-bad idea, right up there with quizzing your husband about the erotic possibilities of spanking thirteen-year-olds;

3. Feminist issues and politics in Podkayne of Mars still fucking relevant, maybe even more so in 2017 than 1963. (I have said this before, and I will say this again, until someone engages me in this dialogue; that is, I will never stop saying this. I think in 2017, Heinlein would have been discouraged from writing a female protagonist unless she exists in a dystopia. Additionally, in the movie, they would have edited out all the scenes that would have passed the Bechdel test and made the makeover scene central to the movie. Mrs. Grew would either be played by Angelina Jolie, or not allowed to mention that she had once been super-hot.) "Annoying as mosquito love songs" is actually a fairly valid way to portray the interior voice of the teenager.

4. Isn't writing books with significant world-building "cheating at solitaire" at the pro level, Dr. Judgy?
spikethemuffin: (Gardening)

A "time capsule" house in San Antonio. The owners knew what they liked in '70 and stuck with it, I guess...
spikethemuffin: (Gardening)
It is like some terrible folk tale, is it not?

The man peers in the woman's windows, always muttering, sneering commenting, never giving the woman a moment's peace.

One woman asks: "What do you want of me?"

And the man says to her, "I neeeeeeeed your heaaaart. How can I live without a heart? And yours is so pure and good. Please. How can any kind person refuse me her heart? I am so cold."

And this woman gives this man her heart. And soon enough, she shows up at his windows. "Go away, you heartless, ugly stalker ghoul!" the man shouts. "Now that my joints have loosened, I can dance, and I am too good for riff raff such as you!"

And the woman shrieks, "But you have my heart! I must follow where my heart goes, or I shall die!"

And the man hollers back with a voice like a drum, "No! It is my heart! Finders keepers! You should have been more careful with it!"

And then, of course, the woman gasps. "Your voice is like a drum! Your chest is hollow! You have given the heart to someone else! No wonder you are so cruel to me. I demand that you give it back."

And he doesn't, but she finds it, and she eventually takes her heart back, maybe less pure, maybe less large, but enough to live on.

And sure enough, weeks or months later, she has coaxed her heart's kindness to bloom again, and the man's face is pressed gibbering and pleading against her window... And if they have not learned to stop this cycle, or if you have not learned to stop your ears, you can hear them squabbling still.

Another woman finds a man prowling the edges of her spaces and demanding her heart to fill his empty spaces, and says, "Don't be silly! I need my heart. What happened to your heart? Grow your own heart and leave me alone! If you come near me again, I shall hit you with a shovel, for there is nothing wrong with hitting a heartless creature who won't stop bothering you."

And she lives alone, to this day, singing sweet lonely songs that would break any heart that comes near enough to hear her... but no-one does.

And people will tell you the problem is men, and people will tell you the problem is women, and people will tell you this and that and all sorts of things (people will tell you you should not make up your own mind about kale and that you should use soap to patch holes in your wall. I do not trust people.). I tell you, though: the problem is there is not enough heart to go around and fill the chests and keep the life of everyone.

So what's a girl to do?
spikethemuffin: (Gardening)
Listen, I know that long hold times are frustrating, and I am right there with you on making sure that everything that can possibly be fixed is fixed. But when you spend up to ten minutes ranting about how frustrating that is and what a terrible practice that is, you're not only wasting my time and yours (because, dude, I am NOT the person in charge of staffing the phones, and very seldom will you have anyone who has the power to adjust this taking those calls), but you are wasting the time of everyone else who is waiting on the phone. Stop it. You wouldn't do that in the line at the grocery store (possibly because you are accountable to other people who will politely tell you to step off and let them check the fuck out). I really hope it makes you feel better, but it probably doesn't, in the long run. So... what gives? I always work as hard and as fast as I can to help you; trying to intimidate and impress me is a huge and heaping pile of wasted effort.

(This also goes for the people who proceed to passive-aggressively tell me stories about their grandkids, because they've earned my attention by the wait time. Sweetie, I'm delighted to be spending time listening to someone friendly, but ultimately, we're both better off spending our time with non-captive audiences.)


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