Other fandom content, as well as ruthless, pointless, frequently inflamatory content-if'n the impulse siezes, of course. Also...
This ain't no kidsblog Expect adult content, language, and...stuff!
Friday, May 28, 2004
fic reccs pages
Hey, knew we added links to other fic reccs pages... *eyes hotlink menu warily* They wandered off when our vigilance was down... or something. I've re-added Cofax's self-admitted entirely bias and occassionally snarky fic reccs page. Other suggestions are eagerly awaited - we'll try not to let 'em get away.
*sigh* wish we lived reachably near the East Coast. *eyeballs info on Escapade. Crap! Virginia Hey will be there, and you don't have to share her with 300 other people and she's doing a meditation workshop on Sunday. *weeps* Anyone who can go should. This is one beautiful lady. Inside and out. Many can attest.
On the east coast (or thereabouts)? Wanna meet up with some Scapers for a weekend full of fun and frivolity? Why not check out Escapade Boston! Stay in beautiul downtown Boston, right in the theatre district! Even if you don't want to attend the con (and why wouldn't you???) you can still enjoy a fun weekend in Bean-town!
Check out the details at the the website for Escapade. There are links to the hotel registration and everything right there! One stop shopping!
Look out, it’s NC-17. And not just NC-17. It’s fucking hot NC-17.
I didn’t know that hotness survived in Farscape land.
Whoa. God, I totally loved this! Like wallowing in a pool of jello cubes and whipped cream; an off-center self exploration of the opposite sex which, as anyone knows, is an idea crammed with potential humor and—sex.
In this story the funny just keeps getting funnier, and then it gets hot. I mean, "Good gawd!" hot. But, hey, I think we can all relate, and that’s what makes it so very good—well not the special circumstances part—but the hotness part. Guh. Even with the hotness, I gotta give most love to the clean dog smell and the big head thing. John is so adorable and so smart (we knew that) and Aeryn—my god—hot! I get the “Aeryn’s hot” thing, finally. Heh
Many thanks to the reccer who recc’d to me. Ye shall not be beheaded. Ooooo, and I see in the LJ of rubberneck - aka Feldman, so many more cool things to eat. Yum.
Okay. It's not so much that it's a Farscape fic, or that John and Scorpy are rubbing shoulders and understanding each other on a really uncomfortable level. It's not so much that Max brings the pain and makes me weep for the futility and waste, all with the hot taste of dry dust in my mouth. Mostly it's the frank and undistorted look (not counting the eerily alien observer) at what is most feared but least often thought. Wasted lives. There are few Farscape works that affect so deeply; this is one of them. I could quote this fic to death, but I'm just gonna put two short, gorgeous bits right here:
a life is not even good currency: it means something only when it numbers in the hundreds, the thousands; when there is enough to spend.
Time by any measure does not blunt the edge of hate, but it hones and the weapons become more efficient. "Same shit," he murmurs. "Different day."
What is it that can give back hope when it's been lost, or worse? Never found.
