(no subject)
Aug. 21st, 2004 09:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolhttp://www.theherald.co.uk/features/21443-print.shtml
The crazyness of Friendsfriends finds me gems like that monstrosity.
So we can confidently predict that come next August, when the 83rd World Science-Fiction Convention opens its doors in Glasgow, there will not be an anorak, a roll of tin foil or an anal probe to be had this side of the Cairngorms.
I do own an anorak. It's waterproof and I use it for camping. Tin foil? Ditto. Anal probe? Erm... no.
What the mad fools fail to appreciate is the risk involved in rolling out the red carpet to people who are, to a man – and they are all men – wired directly to Mars.
If this is the case, can someone explain to me where my breasts came from? I did always hate biology, so all help much appreciated. Ta.
Having an interest in sci-fi is akin to dabbling in drugs.
Look, the caffiene and alcohol I'll freely admit to.
But when it comes to the class A pursuits, such as dressing up as your favourite character and attending conventions, it is time to seek help from a qualified medical professional.
Because there are many of them there at the conventions, since science-fiction fans, are, in fact, highly intelligent. As a rule. I'm not including the Orlando Bloom fangirls and Suethors in this statement, so don't go jumping all over me.
And does she want to see my qualifications?
Where would Britons be without good, honest transvestism? Texas, that's where. Sci-fi fans, however, go too far too often.
Sorry, since when has James Kirk been a woman? That's a twisted fanfiction, dude.
Many adults have strong likings for certain authors or cultural genres. I bow to no woman in my admiration for Jackie Collins and Orville the Duck.
And you all criticised my immortal fetish.
Why, then, should accountants from Epping and lawyers from Edinburgh be allowed to crash pubs and parties togged up like Cybermen and Daleks?
Ah, so now we're all qualified.
Then they wonder why they go home alone. (Some of them do, incredibly, manage to find partners.
...
Common characteristics among those who adore sci-fi include a love of Spandex, the denial of a puppy during childhood, and a damn fine sense of humour.)
Not since I left dancing; we have a dog; yes. And?
Sadly, cybergeeks do not give in so easily to ridicule.
Because certain journalists would be out of a job if we all started trying to get legislation about bigotism.
When taunted beyond endurance, they usually attempt to deploy a philosophical, intellectual defence of their dark art.
As opposed to writing pissy articles about something they know nothing about.
Those who dress up as Zogon the Warrior King from the planet Teflon
... who?
Would that al Qaeda were as easy to eliminate.
(Speaking of which, what's the betting bin Laden has a well-worn DVD of Plan Nine From Outer Space in his cave or a natty pair of mail order Vulcan ears?)
Get. My. Sword.
Which side are you on?
Whichever one you're not, darlin'.
If they grasp it with both hands and wave it about, all the while uttering strange sounds like "B-joom, B-joom" in the manner of Luke Skywalker, they are one of "them" and must be neutralised immediately.
I have never uttered those words. Ever.
Read the article. Get incensed. Post a pissy LJ post!
~Hathy_Col~
The crazyness of Friendsfriends finds me gems like that monstrosity.
So we can confidently predict that come next August, when the 83rd World Science-Fiction Convention opens its doors in Glasgow, there will not be an anorak, a roll of tin foil or an anal probe to be had this side of the Cairngorms.
I do own an anorak. It's waterproof and I use it for camping. Tin foil? Ditto. Anal probe? Erm... no.
What the mad fools fail to appreciate is the risk involved in rolling out the red carpet to people who are, to a man – and they are all men – wired directly to Mars.
If this is the case, can someone explain to me where my breasts came from? I did always hate biology, so all help much appreciated. Ta.
Having an interest in sci-fi is akin to dabbling in drugs.
Look, the caffiene and alcohol I'll freely admit to.
But when it comes to the class A pursuits, such as dressing up as your favourite character and attending conventions, it is time to seek help from a qualified medical professional.
Because there are many of them there at the conventions, since science-fiction fans, are, in fact, highly intelligent. As a rule. I'm not including the Orlando Bloom fangirls and Suethors in this statement, so don't go jumping all over me.
And does she want to see my qualifications?
Where would Britons be without good, honest transvestism? Texas, that's where. Sci-fi fans, however, go too far too often.
Sorry, since when has James Kirk been a woman? That's a twisted fanfiction, dude.
Many adults have strong likings for certain authors or cultural genres. I bow to no woman in my admiration for Jackie Collins and Orville the Duck.
And you all criticised my immortal fetish.
Why, then, should accountants from Epping and lawyers from Edinburgh be allowed to crash pubs and parties togged up like Cybermen and Daleks?
Ah, so now we're all qualified.
Then they wonder why they go home alone. (Some of them do, incredibly, manage to find partners.
...
Common characteristics among those who adore sci-fi include a love of Spandex, the denial of a puppy during childhood, and a damn fine sense of humour.)
Not since I left dancing; we have a dog; yes. And?
Sadly, cybergeeks do not give in so easily to ridicule.
Because certain journalists would be out of a job if we all started trying to get legislation about bigotism.
When taunted beyond endurance, they usually attempt to deploy a philosophical, intellectual defence of their dark art.
As opposed to writing pissy articles about something they know nothing about.
Those who dress up as Zogon the Warrior King from the planet Teflon
... who?
Would that al Qaeda were as easy to eliminate.
(Speaking of which, what's the betting bin Laden has a well-worn DVD of Plan Nine From Outer Space in his cave or a natty pair of mail order Vulcan ears?)
Get. My. Sword.
Which side are you on?
Whichever one you're not, darlin'.
If they grasp it with both hands and wave it about, all the while uttering strange sounds like "B-joom, B-joom" in the manner of Luke Skywalker, they are one of "them" and must be neutralised immediately.
I have never uttered those words. Ever.
Read the article. Get incensed. Post a pissy LJ post!
~Hathy_Col~
no subject
Date: 2004-08-21 02:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-21 02:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-21 02:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-22 05:46 am (UTC)*fumes*
no subject
Date: 2004-08-23 02:11 am (UTC)only men?
drugs?
rah!!
I am geek, hear me roar. Lets email her. Five times a day. Seven days a week until she gets the point.
&~erm. sadly that is exactly what I do when handed my friend's toy light sabre! ashamed?nope!!
*growls*
Hi ya!
Date: 2004-08-24 11:47 am (UTC)Re: Hi ya!
Date: 2004-08-25 08:46 am (UTC)Hi! Welcome to my scary world and consider yourself friended back!
no subject
Date: 2004-08-24 11:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-25 08:47 am (UTC)Geek power indeed!