they must need bears

Author Marie Brennan needs to talk to somebody with a better than casual knowledge of Oxfordshire. You could help her here.

Dostoevsky once wrote: “If God did not exist, everything would be permitted”; and that, for existentialism, is the starting point. Everything is indeed permitted if God does not exist, and man is in consequence forlorn, for he cannot find anything to depend upon either within or outside himself. He discovers forthwith, that he is without excuse. For if indeed existence precedes essence, one will never be able to explain one’s action by reference to a given and specific human nature; in other words, there is no determinism – man is free, man is freedom. Nor, on the other hand, if God does not exist, are we provided with any values or commands that could legitimise our behaviour. Thus we have neither behind us, nor before us in a luminous realm of values, any means of justification or excuse. – We are left alone, without excuse. That is what I mean when I say that man is condemned to be free. Condemned, because he did not create himself, yet is nevertheless at liberty, and from the moment that he is thrown into this world he is responsible for everything he does. The existentialist does not believe in the power of passion. He will never regard a grand passion as a destructive torrent upon which a man is swept into certain actions as by fate, and which, therefore, is an excuse for them. He thinks that man is responsible for his passion.

--Jean-Paul Sartre, "Existentialism is a Humanism," 1946

All right. Does anybody out there in LJ land know if the quote Sartre attributes to Dostoevsky is accurate? I have never actually made it all the way through The Brothers Karamazov, which is supposedly the source of the quote, but a little googling around seems to indicate that Sartre took the sense of a phrase that's repeated in the book-- "...everything is lawful" --and sort of made up the rest.

Anybody got a definitive answer?

(This is not a request for people to run right out and google for me. I have done that part already. However, I know there are at least two people with degrees in Russian literature reading this: I am looking for an expert answer.)

The rain has passed, and as I write this we have intermittent sunlight and ragged skies. Lovely.

I've turned my work chair so I have a better view out the window without craning my neck so much, which has the added advantage of not putting the sun over my shoulder and blanching the laptop screen.

So, flist, I am asking for opinions.

My aged HP Pavilion is reaching the end of its useful lifespan, and I need a replacement laptop. (Mostly, I use the device for word processing, internet, and so on.)

What I'd like to know is, if you're bored and want to tell me and you use a laptop or tablet PC--

--what brand, model, vintage, and specifications is your device?
--what do you use it for?
--how durable has it proven?
--how's the service contract?
--what was the price range?
--do you like it or loathe it?

(If you use some other word processing or internet solution, other than a laptop, and you love it with evangelical glee, I'm very happy for you, but telling me to get a Palm and a roll-up keyboard will simply make me roll my eyes and think you're a twit who can't read directions. I know, it's unfair, but that's what will happen. I'm just letting you know.)

Anybody know what, in these days of political correctness, Johns Hopkins calls what we used to refer to as a "male aide"?

NB: I don't care what other hospitals call them. My question is specific to JH. Thanks!

February 29th would have been my second wedding anniversary, if I were still married. (The alert among you will have already figured out that this means I got married in 2000.) I've been separated for over two years now, and divorced for six months, and I have realized something recently.

I am ready to start dating again.

Of course, I have no idea how a self-employed artist would meet people. A friend of mine has been exploring the wilds of Craig's list for similar purposes, but her results have been mixed enough that I'm totally hesitant to try that. On the other hand, I'm also enough at a loss that on the way home from Fall River (it's about a two hour drive) tonight I started composing a personal ad.

Let's see.

Self-employed, financially independent artist seeks person(s) for acquaintanceship, flirtation, possible escalation. I am: divorced, female, 36, eclectic, geeky, mercurial, empathic, intellectual, opinionated, radical, insecure, overscheduled, tactile, energetic, intimidating, picky, prickly, defensive, spontaneous, amusing, tough, devoid of ownership issues, bad at communicating needs strongly, moderately traumatized but so over the glamour of my own tragic past, and can cook. I am looking for someone(s) who is/are: 25-55, single or in an open relationship, solvent, outdoorsy, creative, adventurous, ethical, ambitious, geeky, competent, active, curious, friendly, funny, and not a picky eater.

Anybody not within a reasonable commute of Hartford, CT, need not apply.

And then it occurred to me... I could ask my Internets!  So there you go.

Internets, set me up with your friends!

I need a fluent Spanish speaker to check one line of dialogue for me, please?

Poll #1146856
Open to: All, results viewable to: All

Hanged for a lamb, hanged for...

Okay, I realize this makes me look like an unprofessional idiot, but four of five drafts and ten months later, I honestly cannot remember. And I think if I have to read that book again, there will be blood. And it will be mine.

And then you won't get to read the sequel.

At any point in Dust, does Tristen indicate his opinion of/relationship with Arianrhod, either by implication or express statement?

I know what I think he thinks, but I can't remember what he said.

four things make a post, because I ran out:

I think I have finished the revision of "King Pole, Gallows Pole, Bottle Tree." I got a little more than 400 words out of the first twenty pages. And I think the rest of it was already pretty okay, so I just poked it a little.

Favorite paragraph that didn't survive the surgery:

Hey, did you know Lassie was a boy dog? True story. They're bigger and more impressive, so that's what got cast. She may have been the first drag queen on TV.

So tomorrow I can print it out and mail it in.

---

So, ashacat and I are contemplating taking up a martial art in the spring, and I was wondering, from the martial artists reading this--what do you practice, and what do you like/dislike about it?

---

A nice thoughtful review of A Companion to Wolves at Hippoi Athanatoi. I feel like I should correct a misapprehension re: auctorial intent, there. Sarah and I didn't write the book with the intent to shock anybody. Rather, we wrote the book because we were having fun with the genderfuck and worldbuilding and story, and we wanted to shine some light into a corner of the genre we both had some problems with. And when we had finished, we looked at it and said, well, this is gonna be a tough sell, and is going to ruffle a few feathers.

And then we decided to sell it anyway. Though that took a while.

(We did have one publisher before Tor make an offer on it, if we took the sex out. Which more or less would have made it the book we were having the issues with in the first place, so we politely declined.)

I'm generally pleased and surprised that the response has been so overwhelmingly positive, with a few exceptions, and that many people seem to be taking the genderfuck in stride. (The secondhand comment here from somebody who has worked with wolf-packs and who thought the canine dynamic was realistic, made me bounce up and down and squee. Trellwolves are not socially exactly like earth wolves, but I think their behavior pattern works pretty well, biologically speaking, given their genetics.)

Also, for the record, Sarah wrote all the sex scenes. And Emma wrote all the torture scenes.

Oh, wait.

That other one is a different book, and you haven't read it yet. *g*

---

[19:51] matociquala: I think I need pajamas
[19:51] matociquala: And a hatchet.
[19:51] stillnotbored: o.0
[19:55] cristalia: ...
[19:56] cristalia: You were called by the guy from Scream?
[19:56] matociquala: Revising.
[19:56] matociquala: Or, sorry
[19:56] matociquala: "Revising"
[19:56] matociquala: *lays about self*
[19:56] matociquala: HEEEYAH!
[19:57] cristalia: heeee
[19:57] stillnotbored: I am so missing something
[19:57] matociquala: *hews words*
[19:57] matociquala: 41! 42! 43!
[19:57] matociquala: the last one had an iron collar
[19:58] cristalia: de rigeur in Mordor this spring.

---

Okay, geeks. From a librarian friend of mine:

A patron is looking for the title of a science fiction book about a human beehive. He says these or similar keywords are in the title, and is quite sure that it is a full-length novel, not a short story. It was probably written in the 1960s, because that?s approximately when his wife read it.

Who knows the book?

Fantasy author David Keck needs a word. Specifically, he needs a cool-sounding archaic synonym for "sack" or "bag," or maybe another cool word he'll know when he sees it.

I have a flist full of Shakespeareans and medievalists. Surely someone can help the man out?

There is no hot water this morning. I have a headache from washing my hair under the cold water tap. It's a hard life where-ever you go.

Today, it is raining. I am going to sit in my big chair, drink tea, eat oatmeal toast with pink grapefruit marmalade, and in general recover from yesterday, which involved ten hours in the car and reaching that state where a McDonald's cheddar melt actually tasted pretty good. (Thus, I have discharged my yearly obligation to check and make sure I still don't like fast food.)

I am not going to the gym, and I am not going for a walk, except maybe to the corner to buy cat food.

I will read, and I will probably write some fanfic, because the nice thing about long drives is that they tend to make huge chunks of story fall into my head. (When netcurmudgeon and I drove from Las Vegas to Hartford in 2002, at the other end of the trip I sat down and wrote the first draft of By the Mountain Bound in three weeks. It was all there.)

I should probably feel guilty about goofing off that profoundly and Wasting My Talent On Writing For Self-Entertainment, but you know what? I don't. I might feel a little guilty about not feeling guilty, though.

Take that, guilt gorilla.

In other news, the only thing more fun than an 8 week old Briard puppy is four 8 week old Briard puppies that you get to give back after you're done wrestling with them and getting them wound up.

Someday, I will live someplace where I can have a dog again. And plant some rosebushes and raspberry brambles.

Anybody know the source of the quote, "Childhood ends the moment you know you are going to die."?

Also, my space opera disguised as an epic quest fantasy/epic quest fantasy disguised as a space opera just grew a chosen one. Oddly enough, it's not who I expected it to be. Apparently I am also contriving to swipe from deconstruct Dune.

I also lifted an entire subplot from Roger Zelazny last night, but I'm pretty sure nobody will notice after I spend a few hours on it with the hammer. I mean, other than the entire internet, you know.

And now, I must go back to writing creepy paternal villain internalizations. Apparently, this is a book about father/daughter relationships. And the ethics of creating God.

All right, coffee break's over. Back on your heads.

---

We are stardust
We are golden
We are billion-year-old carbon.

--Joni Mitchell

---

Mm. Gotta buy that new-ish Vienna Teng album. And the new-ish Dar.

See, there's this thing writers do, where they repeat cliched description rather that digging for authentic, telling detail. But sometimes the attempt to come up with an effective description bogs down in not having the appropriate sterile instruments for a spot of self-mutilation:

[18:55] matociquala: is blood really salty?
[18:55] stillsostrange: some people's
[18:56] stillsostrange: it depends
[18:56] matociquala: I should just stab my finger.
[18:56] stillsostrange: I think maybe it's more salt from the skin
[18:56] stillsostrange: Mine is more coppery.  Steven's is more irony.
[18:56] matociquala: My skin's not very salty, unless I am sweating.
[18:56] matociquala: Mine is kind of umami-sweet, I think.
[18:57] matociquala: with overtones of copper penny. *g*
[18:57] stillsostrange: Now I wonder
[18:57] stillsostrange: maybe it's not salty
[18:57] stillsostrange: maybe fiction has lead me astray
[18:57] stillsostrange: Mine is metallic and sweet
[18:58] stillsostrange: Maybe vampires bite a lot of sweaty people
[18:58] matociquala: I think of it as seaweedy.
[18:58] matociquala: I wonder if Rien knows what seaweed tastes like.
[18:58] matociquala: I bet you would have algae tanks on a generation ship.
[18:58] stillsostrange: I wish I still had some clean razorblades.  I would check.
[18:58] matociquala: LOL
[18:59] matociquala: Yeah, I was just thinking I don't have a clean enough needle.
[18:59] matociquala: What we do for our art.
[18:59] stillsostrange: I can never draw blood with a needle

ETA
[19:08] matociquala: *goes to stab finger*
[19:08] stillsostrange: hee
[19:08] stillsostrange: see, the stabbing hurts me way more than slicing
[19:09] stillsostrange: I'd much rather slice my arm
[19:09] matociquala: I'll stab my wrist instead, really
[19:09] stillsostrange: I still have a nice scar from high school.
[19:10] stillsostrange: oh, found a razorblade
[19:11] matociquala: I'm not bleeding well, dammit.
[19:11] matociquala: stupid platelets.
[19:12] matociquala: I could just shave my legs.
[19:12] matociquala: that would no doubt result in blood.
[19:14] stillsostrange: hee
[19:14] stillsostrange: that always works for me
[19:14] matociquala: I think I am settling on seaweedy and metal-sweet.
[19:15] matociquala: the internets think it's umami-sweet-metallic
[19:16] stillsostrange: I think this razor is dull
[19:16] stillsostrange: or I really suck at this
[19:17] matociquala: We fail self-injury
[19:17] stillsostrange: yes
[19:17] stillsostrange: I lose at the blood-letting
[19:18] matociquala: Nobody thinks blood is salty.
[19:18] matociquala: vampire fiction lies.
[19:19] stillsostrange: oh woes
[19:19] stillsostrange: I'm going to blame this on the razor
[19:20] stillsostrange: But I can probably use it to take off my old flaking window stickers. :P
[19:20] stillsostrange: I'll surely cut myself doing that
[19:20] matociquala: Report back, if you do.

---

So, what do you say? Has anybody here ever coughed up a nice lungful of bright red froth? Because that's what I need to describe....

(gee, and I wonder why Rien wouldn't give me an opening line.)

.

I'm looking for information on the wolves of Paris, and the Internets know them not. Or not much, anyway.

ETA stillsostrange got at least part of it for me. Swinburne says "Cortaut." La.

For those of you who haven't picked up this apparently more-obscure-than-I-knew historical tidbit, in the winter of 1439, when Paris was a bone of contention between between the followers of the Count of Armagnac and those of the Duke of Burgundy (and everybody was quite tipsy a lot of the time) and the English and the French were arguing over who exactly got to call himself King of France, and two wet years and bad harvests in a row had provoked the worst famine in twenty years, and population was still almost nonexistent in the wake of the Black Death...

...a large pack of wolves took up residence near the City of Paris, and in fact pretty much roamed the streets at will, eating whatever they could catch. Including citizens.

Now, Daniel Mannix wrote a novel about this event (And Cris Williamson wrote a song about it. Both book and song are called "The Wolves of Paris," with rare originality.). Anyway, Mannix calls the alpha wolf Cortaud, and describes him as a wolf-wolfhound hybrid. My question is, did he make up these details? I know that one of the theories about the Beast of Gevaudan was that it was a mastiff-wolf hybrid; he certainly could have borrowed from the other famous French wolf story.

Can anybody with either better Google-fu, a firsthand knowledge of Parisian folklore, or access to a research library confirm that for me?


P.S. Mebd's new trick for getting me up in the morning is to pull my hair.

Anybody want a cat?

Will ship.
.