improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
Once again, the mailperson did not deliver my package. Like always, I got the little notice to pick it up at the post office tomorrow despite my being home at the time of "attempted" delivery.

I wanted that package so goddamned badly today, my internal organs are shifting in tortured anticipation.

I went to the post office and complained about it. Wasn't until I arrived back home that I re-noticed the doorbell outside the apartment building. The doorbell that does not work. I think the mailperson has been trying to ring the doorbell, and I, of course don't hear it and don't respond. My neighbor, however, has put a note up on the door indicating that all deliverpersons should knock. I've yet to hear a knock.

I hate the slumlord who refuses to fix my heater and rented me an apartment with a non-functioning doorbell. He didn't even tell me that it didn't work. I hate this apartment so much! WHY are there humongous cockroaches in a residential neighborhood?? Why is it so hot here, right next to the damned water??

Lovely day. Woke up too early again. My head still hurts from crying at therapy today. Couldn't find any good novels to read at the library. As in apparently every other library, someone has decided to categorize fantasy with science fiction. What are they teaching these people at library school.

This Red Bull seems to weaken my appetite.

I feel a sickness and a hopelessness deep inside of me. Womyn are being kicked out of "women's" homeless and DV shelters because they complain about the men who are now legally allowed to stay there. How did this happen?

improperlyhuman: (Default)
I don't buy sweet chili sauce because I can never tell if it's vegan. I've now made my own: a mixture of spicy chili paste, the unsweetened ketchup that is too nasty to use as ketchup, and the coconut aminos that is too sweet to replace soy sauce.

I've noticed that I'm more comfortable being with my thoughts, less worried that I'll think myself into something upsetting. I used to love reading e-books while cycling in the morning, but now I'm ok with just the cycling (or cycling and music, sometimes), and the thoughts I have don't bother me much. Even when they do bother me, moving on from them is easier. I've also unconsciously increased the exercise intensity, so there's not as much of me available to concentrate on reading, especially reading poorly written tech books!

What is it with the writing skills of people in software development?! Or is it the broader computer tech community? 

I don't read for the whole two hours of sunbathing. I just sit and do nothing for some of the time.

I'm reading the science fiction novel Heavy Planet by Hal Clement. It isn't the old school science fiction I like most, but it's close: adventure-based, not too much dialogue. When I read about fictionalized societies, I'm struck by how similar they are to Earthly societies in very particular ways. Alien or human, the main characters are typically male. Unnecessary violence threatens to break out between the various societies or sects; they are never peaceful, not even when such violence is not central to the plot.

What really surprises me (especially when the authors seem to be female) are the fantasy novels full of kingdoms and peasants and such, and all the complicated and oppressive social hierarchy that goes along with that. Part of my enjoyment of fiction stems from escaping from the man-made sociocultural horrors of the real world, past and present, so it's difficult for me to understand authors who willingly immerse themselves in these depressingly limiting social structures.

Stories based on present sociocultural conditions are much more undestandable because the authors (and their readers) still have to deal with those; but I really have trouble understanding why someone would write a story that's all about how horrible it was to be a slave, a serf, a womon at various points in history. Like aren't there enough horrible situations a human can be in without revisiting old ones and creating whole new versions of such situations?

When I think about writing fiction, it's always mainly about positive things happening. That's why I can't ever really write anything; I rarely come up with much of a plot. No conflict, no plot.

Anyways. Heavy Planet is quite an imaginative book, as far as science goes; it's about human scientists directing a group of sailors of a race of insect-like natives on an exploratory journey across the latter's planet Mesklin, which varies in gravity from 3 to hundreds of times Earth's gravity.

This evening, I finally bought Science-Fiction: The Early Years, which is a catalogue of science fiction written before 1930 (the kind I prefer). It cost about sixty bucks and, according to the Amazon description, lists many books that would probably be difficult to find; nevertheless, considering how I've agonized over my inability to find any suitable fiction, and the boundless joy my favorite novels (The Time Machine and Out of The Silent Planet) have given me, I felt that the expense was worth it. Book-hunting is fun anyhow.

This fasted weightlifting is a killer, much more difficult than fasted cardio. Not sure I'm gonna stick with it.
improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
I was disappointed with the ending of the film Europa Report. It was about a team of astronauts on a mission to...Europa, I guess. It's been a while since I watched it. After the mission was ruined and all of her colleagues had died (all but one of them killed by a mysterious octopus-like creature), the last remaining crew member decided to destroy her last chance of getting back to Earth by opening the outer craft doors. The transmitted footage showed that she let in whatever icy liquid covers Europa (in which she presumably drowned), as well as something that resembled a machine more than it resembled an animal. It's surface had a metallic look to it, and the arms emitted light that put me in the mind of electricity moreso than bioluminescence. Then again, I can't recall ever having seen bioluminescence in action.

The suiciding for science is what bothered me. I think that the lengths to which people will go in the name of science is warped, and anyone who commits suicide just for some brief footage that contributes nothing more than biology trivia has issues with priorities. Europa Digimon footage wouldn't save anyone's life or even make a difference to the quality of anyone's life. All it would do is satisfy curiosity.

The way some people talk about "scientific knowledge," you'd think it was sacred. Knowing stuff just for the sake of knowing stuff (and this is particularly applicable to space programs, which produce a lot of the most useless knowledge amongst all STEM research) isn't worth anyone's life, and "anyone" includes all the non-human animals that get imprisoned, tortured, and killed in the name of "scientific progress." Fiddling with the balance of ecosystems, fiddling with radiation, all of it is bullshit. You'd think some volcanologists have nothing to live for, the way they play on live volcanoes. It's all just another kind of necrophilia, the thrill of "discoveries" and mere abstractions like "progress" valued above life and limb.

When I was young and wanted to be an astronaut, I too held that warped perspective that my life was worth going into space.

Almost every time I order a book, it gets delivered on a Saturday. This time was the same. I bought a used five-dollar copy of a previous edition of The Chicago Manual of Style to help me grow into a more able editor. I guess it fit into the mailperson's side of the mailbox just fine. My side of the mailbox, however, has ridges along the edges, and I cannot get the book out. So it's going to sit there all weekend.

Each time I get junk food, I enjoy it less than the last time. The oil makes me feel heavy, weighed-down.
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