rinue: (Default)
A friend from college shared another of those "disgusting things you don't realize you eat" lists that tells you how various food additives come from coal tar, sand, hair, etc and how some of those chemicals are also used in flame retardants, antifreeze, and so forth. And while everybody is doing the "oh my god gross I only eat organic" dance in the comments, my reaction is. . .

AWESOME.

I already knew about those chemicals, but it's a pleasure every time someone points them out. Any time I start to doubt humanity, I see a list like this, and I think, I am an omnivore and I eat the world. The whole world.

Anybody who tries to tell me other animals are as impressive as human beings doesn't understand how dominant we are. The world for our dominion indeed.

Tomorrow, Mars.
rinue: (Golden Record)
I have, to this point, spilled on the kaftan or accidentally dipped the kaftan into:

red wine
raspberries
blood
oil
salad dressing containing multiple oils plus vinegar and spices
mud
shit

In each case, all I have had to do is dab the kaftan gently with a damp cloth and it all comes off with no stain and no smell. The kaftan dries almost immediately. I don't even have to remove the kaftan during this process.

What have I been doing messing around with natural fibers all these years? Polyester forever.
rinue: (Yes Thanks)
Inscrawl 6: The Journey is live. If you remember my "best spec poems of 2012" list, you know inkscrawl was well represented. I love this magazine to death.

This issue includes a poem of mine, "The End of Tim," which some of you may remember me playing around with an early version of about a year ago. Back then, I was fiddling with making it a very short story, an ultra-flash, but I eventually realized that it worked better as a poem - the rhythms became clearer. This is my first publication in inkscrawl and by coincidence this issue also includes poems by both the other Strange Horizons poetry editors, as well as a number of our regular authors.

Anyway, read it. Read everything. It's free to read and the poems are very short, so you have no excuse.
rinue: (Yes Thanks)
Ciro is back and his toothbrush is back and he brought me a purse full of old foreign coins (from his mother) and a small chest full of rubies (yes, real ones*, from Merlin) and jars full of garlic pickles (from Ed and Ash). It is as though he has returned from a South Seas trading journey.

* They were lab-created, so nobody had to make a deal with warlords or blow up mountains. Apparently some federal security agents took some convincing that they were domestically made and not smuggled in. I don't know why Merlin got me them other than we can appreciate together that they are awesome, both in jewelry and in their applications in lasers. I will have to commission a jeweler to set them properly, although not until the film's paid off. Not that I expect to find the right jeweler sooner than that. (oh lalique. why were you not immortal?) Anyway, I am now too fancy for words; I am a lady who owns a casket of rubies. The dragon-like part of me thinks I should not set them, but should pile them with my various other treasures and perch on them while I sleep.
rinue: (Cathedral)
Just came over the air that the U.N. has okayed a no-fly zone over Libya. I got really loud on that line and pumped my fists next to the microphone. They weren't as fast as I would have liked, but they're finally going in. The U.S. is already scrambling planes. (I have close friends whose families are in Libya. Independent of that, I support human rights.)

Furthermore, the G-7 are stepping in to counter Yen speculation and bring the currency to a sustainable level, both to help Japan rebuild and to stop the world economy from unraveling. This is their first such intervention in the currency markets decade. Meanwhile, radiation readings at the Fukushima plant have fallen, and a coalition of experts from around the world is rushing in to repair things.

It's like living in the Federation. Can you imagine if the world acted like this when World War II hit? It's miraculous to live in a time when borders are less and less significant, and people are people.

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