I’m going to share a couple of things I’ve watched this week, rather than hoard one away for future use. Such extravagance!
First, a bit of charming semi- or perhaps quasi-traditional animation, which follows a mythology I’m not familiar with:
Now, since it is a mythology I’m not familiar with, I don’t know how closely it holds to tradition, but I’m willing to accept it is traditionally Finnish (I’m not a subscriber to the mad idea that Finland itself was a Norse myth and only gained existed in 1923 as a scheme to frighten the Russians).
The other thing is just an excerpt from an old favourite of mine, presented by a chap with a good voice for the purpose. What struck me, though, is that it’s the first time I’ve experienced the words in connection with maps, which re-framed the action wonderfully in my imagination.
I had thought to have been here yesterday, probably finishing up on that second draft. Oh, well. For those who are concerned– a long-awaited gall bladder removal was the wife’s lot, and the extension of her hospital stay was an excess of caution on the part of the hospital as she reacted with unusual (lack of) vigour to the morphine. And since we’re in Canada, this all cost a grand total of $2 for parking and $9 for the post-op Tylenol III I picked up from our neighbourhood pharmacy after bringing her home at last†.
And my Dad’s tippiness did him no actual harm. He needed more encouragement than hoisting.
Oh, but look, it’s not only Friday, but Friday right next to my birthday! Let me indulge myself a little–
Ideally, next week will be more normally arranged. My lightness of tone here belies the stress felt, which I’m rather more conscious of now that I’m an official owner of An Depression, and I’d like rather less of that stuff, thanks.
† Full disclosure: The opioid-laced pills would have cost more but for some insurance provided by The Regular Job. Something like $20. So, for those in the US concerned about the insurance industry, take heart– it still has some function in a setting of socialized medicine.
I don’t know what I’m doing to be treated so well by the Youtube algorithm, but I hope it persists. I’ve read about this film, and been curious to see it, and all of a sudden, there it is in the suggestions panel– an East German/Polish co-production from 1960 (and thus very very much under communist influence), in which space travelers check out a mysterious message from Venus in the dazzlingly distant year of 1985!
It’s not exactly an edge-of-the-seat thrill-ride, but I think it has some real advantages over… Queen of Outer Space, let’s say. I have no interest in driving a Trabant or standing in a long line for a strictly limited ration of vodka, but I may very well try to chase down some more Soviet-bloc sci-fi.
I’ve just remembered that it’s Buster Keaton’s birthday. Since I recently stole a movie to do with him, let’s have a look at something that’s contemporary with him… although ferociously updated.
Being a traditionalist in the film department, I have some (several) reservations about this, although I certainly appreciate the effort that’s gone into it.
Today’s pen, serving the head and the hand both: Pelikan 120 (a German with which I Express myself, ho ho)
Today’s ink, chosen by the heart: Herbin Lie de Thé
As I explain over there, I’m squandering my writing time this month on a misappropriation of Inktober– the eagle-eyed here will have seen the notices advancing down the left-hand sidebar. Daily stories, all month long! EVEN WEEKENDS!
And I got so busy at that, I am rather late posting this.
Oh, you know the stereotype; cool, efficient, probably wearing a black turtleneck.
Stereotypes, man. I should be wearing a lot more flannel, according to international concepts of my nation.
Now, the usual Thursday entry, which will display what an atypical week this has been in more ways than one. It’s not just the impending Pelikan Hub that has kept me from my usual industry– there’s been a lot of stupid demands on my time this week, and they rendered me dull or incapable of using my free time as I would wish. This was, by the way, AFTER choices of ink were made– that degree of dull unoriginality happens without any outside influence, and with a huge array of bottles from several brands all laid out in front of me.
Day
What
How Much
Pen
Ink
16 September
17 September
18 September
19 September
First draft of “Whistling Through the Graveyard”.
Third draft of “Disruptions on the Line” (nee “Underground Follies”).
Here’s an embarrassment. I’ve only just noticed I didn’t do one of these last Friday. I thought I had, and yet I can find no evidence of even a larval draft of one.
Well. I’m not going to make up for it entirely, I guess. I was distracted by getting a new story into a state that Patreon patrons could get their early-admission gandering-at accomplished, and that’s now thrown open to the world… so that’s some entertainment for you. But because Friday is about films, here’s a guy who has clearly been around a few campfires with a solution to one of life’s most vexing problems; how to clean the cast-iron pan:
That certainly makes maintenance a lot simpler, although as my cast-iron pan weighs only slightly less than my car (it’s a large example of the breed) I may not do a lot more cooking in it. Although it does to an excellent job of browning meat… well, now I have to think about what I’m making for supper.
