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londovir- by iamsab

In case you were wondering why I disappear for long stretches during the day on Monday:

Monday is Dreaded Payroll Day at the insulation company which saw fit last year to give me a day job. The dread comes in because we are using a computer program that's 25 years old and a time clock that's surely older than that.

I know I mentioned recently that my original boss decided suddenly to bid farewell. Well, his replacement is... not the corporate geek I thought he was going to be. He's actually significantly younger, and he seems nice enough, though it's still too early to form solid opinions.

With the shift, meanwhile, I seem to be moving up in the office automaton world. I now have my own office, which I intend to decorate in a thoroughly sci-fi-geeky way with glow-in-the-dark stars and everything. Yay! Sci-fi kitsch!

Ahem. In other news, whoever it was who dreamed up dear_muse is my hero, as is the mun behind _cheshirecat for chatting with Vir and thus taking T_M Crossover Madness to an entirely new level.

And I finally saw Incubator. Excellent! A motive for Scorpy! And you were right, Se- the motive is utterly understandable even if the method is not. Which is how all the best villains are written.

Actually, so far, the third season of Farscape- with the nifty Crichton Squared concept- has been pretty consistently superb. The other episode on that DVD, Relativity, hurt. I find it hard to believe the rumor that there are very few Aeryn POV fics out there. Because damn. (And maybe I'm barking up the wrong tree here, but I wonder... I wonder if Crais really could bear to shoot her mother...)

And I'm half tempted to declare Stark/Rygel my new OTP. Muahaha, they were a scream together. *luv*


A Random Geeky Note

You know you're sad, sad, sad when you read a beautiful poem and think "I have to share this with Hobsonphile---I wonder if it reminds her of somebody, too."

This Side of the Truth

This side of the truth,
You may not see, my son,
King of your blue eyes
In the blinding country of youth,
That all is undone,
Under the unminding skies,
Of innocence and guilt
Before you move to make
One gesture of the heart or head,
Is gathered and spilt
Into the winding dark
Like the dust of the dead.

Good and bad, two ways
Of moving about your death
By the grinding sea,
King of your heart in the blind days,
Blow away like breath,
Go crying through you and me
And the souls of all men
Into the innocent
Dark, and the guilty dark, and good
In the last element
Fly like the stars' blood,

Like the sun's tears,
Like the moon's seed, rubbish
And fire, the flying rant
Of the sky, king of your six years
And the wicked wish,
Down the beginning of plants
And animals and birds.
Water and light, the earth and sky,
Is cast before you move,
And all your deeds and words,
Each truth, each lie,
Die in unjudging love.
---Dylan Thomas
Aw, I thought you'd like it... it's so Vir.