I honestly think we all need a pick-up after what’s been going on this week (and it’s only Tuesday? Geez-us.) and pretty much the entire year so far. So here are some of my favorite videos that I’ve watched recently (and yes, there is a bit of a theme!).
I hope y’all find some measure of enjoyment from them, and don’t forget to take care of yourself tonight and every night. Love you all! I mean it!
Note: most of the videos have some NSFW audio aside from the first (unless your workplace really hates the historical usage of the word ‘bastard’, in which case yeah, it’s almost all NSFW audio).
Hey, here’s the latest part in Disassembly Required, my newest story for Wednesday Briefs, the weekly flash fiction challenge! In the previous part, which you can read here, our good ladies Beatriz and Allen were in a creepy diner, exploring the kitchen, when the lights went out. Will they find the light? Will Allen get her tuna sandwich? Is Beatriz allergic to capers? At least one of these questions will be answered, maybe, kind of, in this latest installment. I hope you like it!
Disassembly Required, part 3/?. Prompts used: weird machine.
Beatriz stepped forward, into the darkness. She reached out for a physical anchor, a counter or a cutting board, or even the fabric of Allen’s jacket sleeve, but found nothing. Her eyes registered nothing but black.
“Allen?” As soon as she spoke, Beatriz knew she would not be heard. The oppressive lack of light seemed to swallow up her words the second they left her lips, swaddled them up and muted them for good.
Another step. She hit something with her hip. Maybe a corner, but she didn’t know of what. Beatriz involuntarily screwed her face up to stop from shouting at the sharp pain now shooting through her leg. At least the thump of her body making contact seemed to travel outward, because it was answered with a quiet “Beatriz?” from the other side of the darkness.
When I was ten years old, all I wanted to be was a scientific adviser. Spoiler alert: I didn’t.
I didn’t exactly know what that meant, but I knew that was the Doctor’s position at UNIT, and the Doctor was always helping UNIT out and saving them from evil aliens, and I loved the Doctor, therefore being a scientific adviser seemed like a perfect job. Who wouldn’t want to be more like their childhood hero?
I grew up watching Tom Baker and Elisabeth Sladen on BBC America, and I wanted to be the one wearing the scarf, wielding the sonic screwdriver, being smart, always helpful and kind.
And then I grew older and saw that I would never be the scientific adviser, only the assistant, the one passing along the Doctor’s test tubes, as Liz Shaw and the Brigadier would say, and tell him how brilliant he is. And I forgot that being the Doctor would ever be possible.
(Reupload due to the original account being deleted from YouTube.)
This week’s piece of flash fiction for Wednesday Briefs is, unfortunately, not the third part of Disassembly Required. It’s actually a weird, goofball stand-alone piece about a couple of college kids cramming on a Sunday night. Write what you know, right? Perfect for fans of unusual slugs and unusual physicists. I enjoyed writing it, so I hope y’all enjoy reading it!
Slug Love. One-shot. Prompt used: I asked you not to tell me that.
“I asked you not to tell me that!”
“Tell you what?”
“About the banana slugs!”
It was 8 pm on a Sunday night, and Trista and her best friend Ronaldo were at the library. Surrounded by five stacks of books deep, they sat at one of the biggest tables on the group study floor. Only a ring of empty and half-full coffee cups separated their working space from the towering texts that made up their study fortress. Ronaldo’s laptop face was clean, while Trista’s silver laptop was buried underneath layers of stickers that said things like Stand back, I’m going to do science, back in my day, we had nine planets, and drop the base. Instead of the biology essay she had due the next day on the history of forensic zoology, she’d found multiple articles on banana slugs, and was inflicting the minutiae of the Ariolimax columbianus‘ sex life upon Ronaldo.
“So you’re not interested in how banana slugs are simultaneous hermaphrodites?” She clicked from one tab to another. “Or that sometimes slugs will bite off the genitalia of their mate after copulation?”
Library due date slip (Wikicommons)
An interesting question arose on the library listserv I subscribe to, and I’d love to hear various people’s input on it. How do you feel about public libraries going fine free? That is, libraries no longer charging fines for overdue books and lost/missing items?
On one hand, the revenue from fines help keep the library running, although I’d personally like to see a breakdown of how the revenue streams actually fit into a library’s budget, and it reflects a need to have patrons respect the time and work put into keeping the collection up to date and not filled with ragged, torn books. Also, some libraries use the fine system to keep people above a certain limit of money due off of community computers, to reflect that their refusal to pay their fines have restricted all of their library rights, not just borrowing books.
On the other hand, as many members of the listserv pointed out, libraries are often used by the disenfranchised and the low-income. Not everyone can afford to pay a fine, and not everyone loses a book or keeps a book past its due date out of malice. Having a fine system does not encourage that patron subset to return to the library, and it looks like it’s a pretty big patron subset to lose.
My latest series for the flash fiction weekly Wednesday Briefs, Disassembly Required, is back with part two! You can read the first part here at the link. Previously, our anxious protagonist Beatriz and her assistant Allen had come across a diner in the fog while on their way to take home the machine without a name. I’m sure nothing weird will happen in this odd looking diner, right?
Disassembly Required, part 2/?. Prompt used: fish.
The interior of Frank’s Dining was faintly lit by the morning sun. Streams of orange light dappled across red tabletops and white linoleum, as though the fog had cleared the moment they’d stepped inside.
Beatriz stood in the doorway, unwilling to move. The door had been open when they arrived. Allen had already walked through and was sitting at the main counter, a plastic menu in her hand. The stool almost disappeared beneath the length of her skirt. She appeared listless, or perhaps restless. Maybe even like she hadn’t taken her medication that morning.
Still, Beatriz did not move. They were the only ones in Frank’s Dining. The only lights were the emergency lights. The jukebox sat in the corner, unplugged. The only sign of life was the clean countertops, and the faint odor of old cooking oil that came from the back.
I’ve been slowly working my way through a collection of personal correspondences centered around Richard Feynman, and I just can’t forget his final, heartbreaking love letter to his first, departed wife Arline. You can read the full text online at Letters of Note; an excerpt is below. It was written several years after Arline Feynman passed away after a long battle with TB.
I adore you, sweetheart.
I know how much you like to hear that — but I don’t only write it because you like it — I write it because it makes me warm all over inside to write it to you.
It is such a terribly long time since I last wrote to you — almost two years but I know you’ll excuse me because you understand how I am, stubborn and realistic; and I thought there was no sense to writing.
But now I know my darling wife that it is right to do what I have delayed in doing, and that I have done so much in the past. I want to tell you I love you. I want to love you. I always will love you.
For an even bigger punch to the heart, you can also watch Oscar Isaac read this letter live on stage. It seems to be part of a series of videos of actors reading famous and well-know correspondences live.
My last blog post was about communication as well, but this is the kind of communication that just knocks me out.every time. What a privilege to read these words and what a tragedy that they had to be written at all.
I just love Big Think’s YouTube channel, and I especially love when they talk to actor/writer Alan Alda, who is a personal favorite of mine. So I was especially pleased to watch his brief video on good communication and jargon, which you can find below.
Other than the fact that Alan is just a wonderful storyteller, I found a lot to think about from his discussion of the importance and also the drawbacks of jargon, especially for people in very niche and specialized fields.
Alda knows that jargon can be both a tool of precision and a weapon of confusion, and it’s definitely something worth talking about in certain circles, like academia and the professional world. He uses the world of cinema as his touchstone example, and I would probably use library science, as that is my specific personal field. It’s a very easily adaptable scenario.
Cover image for Hannah Moskowitz’s novel, Teeth.
Rudy’s life is flipped upside-down when his family moves to a remote island in a last attempt to save his sick younger brother…Then he meets Diana, who makes him wonder what he even knows about love, and Teeth, who makes him question what he knows about anything…He soon learns that Teeth has terrible secrets. Violent secrets. Secrets that will force Rudy to choose between his own happiness and his brother’s life. (Source: Goodreads)
TEETH is the second book by Hannah Moskowitz I have read this year, the first being the utterly superb NOT OTHERWISE SPECIFIED, and in a way, they have similar narratives of a main protagonist who feels isolated and alone who connects to another person through their shared struggles; with NOW, it’s Etta and Bianca’s eating disorders and drive to be successful in theater, while in TEETH, it is Teeth and Rudy’s loneliness and identity crises. Rudy struggles with living in a family with a sick brother and no longer having a life outside of taking care of him; Teeth struggles with his very sense of who he is, a scarred and patchy fish boy with a horrifying origin.
TEETH also reminds me a lot of Aaron Stormer’s SPONTANEOUS, which I’ve reviewed here, as a text that it took me a good chunk of time to get into, but once I got into it, man, I got into it, and nothing else mattered. The more time you spend with Rudy and Teeth and the other island inhabitants, you more you get to care about what they are going through. Everyone on this island is unwell, but not everyone is actively dying from it.