masterofmidgets: (lazy sunday)
For two days in a row we've been having major internet outages - going out around 1 or 2 in the afternoon and not coming back until after 8pm. Really massively tedious, and there isn't anything we can do about it. My dad's already called the cable company, and it's not our house specifically, they are having service problems all over our area. Just one of the hazards of living out here in Nowheresville, I guess. I'm hoping it won't recur again tomorrow in the middle of the football match, but I'm not holding my breath.

At least it's given me plenty of time and motivation to read real books. I'm halfway through a collection of Lovecraft shorts, started a Neil Gaiman collection, finished vol 3 of the Justice League International trades, and finished Unseen Academicals. For the third time. I know it's not everyone's favorite, and I can admit that it has serious structural and pacing problems, but I am just completely incapable of being objective about that book. I read it for the first time last year just as I was getting seriously into football, and I have so many emotions tied up messily into it that I cry big soppy tears all over the ending every time. Also, Glenda/Nutt=OTP forever.

I have also been using all of this unanticipated free time to think about Oscar Wilde. It's interesting - out of all the characters in the Poetsverse AU, I think he has the most character growth built into his story arc. Aside from a little will they-won't they, Mary and Percy Shelley are on a pretty straightforward romantic trajectory. Tennyson and Hallam get together, break up, and get back together again, and hopefully get a little less co-dependent, but their relationship is essentially the same at the end. Wilfred Owen made most of his mistakes before the story starts, and his arc is about following through on the character growth that he's had already. Byron...is always Byron. By we're starting Oscar Wilde out as a dilettante playboy, throwing him into a disastrous affair with Bosie that almost ruins his career and his life, and then, once he gets out of prison, giving him a long and arduous redemption arc in the form of courting Robert Ross. This is the storyline that [personal profile] colourofsaying and I have been talking about nonstop this week, because the idea of Oscar Wilde struggling through a serious romantic relationship for the first time is really fascinating. He really wants it to work! But for Ross to trust him enough to even start a relationship, Wilde has to be a completely different person that he was at the start of the Poetsverse. It's a good thing we love him and want him to be happy, or this could end really really badly.
masterofmidgets: (adventuring ho!)
Important conclusions about the Poetsverse [profile] colourofasying and I reached today on Skype:

1. Oscar Wilde's relationship with Bosie is more or less a trainwreck from the very beginning, since Bosie is an spoiled, insufferable little snot who steals from him, cheats on him, and talks him into a cocaine habit. But it hits rock bottom when he gets publicly outed by getting caught in a club, coked out of his mind with Bosie and a couple of rentboys, and Bosie promptly dumps him because a broke, disgraced, possibly-in-prison boyfriend is no use to him at all. Robert Ross pulls some strings to keep him out of jail and not fired from the magazine, gets him into rehab, and yells at him until he stops moping about the whole mess. Wilde returns to the London scene with a fabulously successful novel he wrote about one of the other patients he met in rehab. And then he teams up with The Band to write a rock opera that is not a thinly-veiled account of him and Bosie, no really it's not we swear. The album is called Pictures of Dorian Gray, naturally.

2. John Keats is in a polyamorous puppy-pile of a relationship with Cowdon Clarke, Charles Armitage Brown, Joseph Severn, and Charles Dilke. They share a converted loft/artist's studio that is one step away from being a commune. Leigh Hunt used to live with them, but when The Band started taking off and Keats got more successful things got weird and awkward and they started fighting, and eventually Hunt stormed off in the middle of a screaming match and never came back. Now they've mostly made up, but they've also realized they make better friends with occasional benefits than housemates. All six of them met when they were teenagers at a traditional and very-posh boys-only boarding school. Hunt was Keats' Greek tutor. The rest of The Band can't really tell any of them apart and just calls them all John's Groupies.

3. Every serious plot arc has a secondary plot arc about Lord Byron getting into sleezy hijinks. Pranking reporters who say mean things to Yeats. Sleeping with Shelley's sister. Showing up at Tennyson's door at 3 in the morning to ask about STD tests. Orgies in hotel lobbies. And of course his semi-annual drunken men's room hatefuck with Oscar Wilde.

Graduation is tomorrow! Hopefully I will not fall off the stage or drop my diploma or have to stop my family from getting into a brawl in the middle of the church. Got my fingers crossed, just in case. :)
masterofmidgets: (cap wants to eat your brains)
Five AUs I Wish The Universe Would Write For Me:

1. BBC Sherlock

The one where John Watson is a college professor and Sherlock is a...uh...well...no one's really sure what he does (or which department he works for), but he brings in a lot of grant money so they don't ask too many questions. Lestrade is an assistant professor of criminology and Sherlock likes to show up at his lectures and correct him in front of his undergraduates. Mycroft is a dean of something at a rival university and doesn't understand why Sherlock insists on working at an undefined position at a different school. And Moriarty, of course, is an evil biology researcher who has very questionable standards about what you can do with your animal test subjects (and your graduate students). He and Sherlock are constantly publishing academic papers that are mostly full of bitchy comments about each other's research, and neither of them are allowed to attend academic conferences together after they got into a slap fight at the last one. Look, this mostly exists because I want John Watson in tweed, alright?

2. 19th Century Literature RPS of Extreme Crack

The one where all the great English poets of the 19th century are in a boy band together. I cannot even explain this one except to say that is the product of a three-year-ongoing joke with [personal profile] colourofsaying and has only got more elaborate and silly the more 19th century poets we've read as good little English majors. It also completely ignores a) all question of period (Yeats plays back-up, Percy Shelley is on drums, Byron is the pretty-boy front man and Tennyson writes all the lyrics) and b) good sense in favor of ridiculousness, boykissing, and stupid literary jokes. Oscar Wilde is a music critic who's had sex with almost everyone in the band at some point. Wordsworth tried to start his own weird acoustic folk-psychedelic thing with Samuel Coleridge to compete with them, but it didn't really catch on and Coleridge wandered off to be a solo artist. MY GOD WE ARE DORKS.

3. Due South/Torchwood Crossover of Doom

The one where Jack Harkness is Ben Fraser's biological father and they accidentally found Torchwood Chicago. I know I've posted about this before, because it is one of my pet not-remotely-related-to-canon-in-any-way crossover theories (like Lord Vetinari being the Master's older brother), because John Barrowman just looks weirdly like Paul Gross from certain angles. This one actually had a plot! Which is mostly about Team Torchwood going to Chicago to hunt aliens and running into a guy who looks suspiciously like their boss. And then the Fraser and Ray and Ray have to help them fight the alien mafia while Fraser comes to terms with being related to Jack and Jack deals with having a kid he didn't know about (we're still pretending CoE never happened) and Ianto quietly loses it because wtf is his life, seriously? At the end, Fraser and the Rays start Torchwood Chicago (I guess it is sort of a side department of the Chicago PD?), and everyone has plenty of sex, which is how every Torchwood story ends, I suppose.

4. German Football RPS

The one where Marko Marin is a spy and Denni Advic is the double agent with the tragic backstory assigned to work with him on a mission. I don't even like Werder Bremen, but Marko Marin is made of adorableness, and this is an awesome noir AU where he is a sweet, innocent guy being blackmailed into crime in order to rescue his evil ex-boyfriend from certain death. Denni Advic shows up to take the package Marin's supposed to drop off for the bad guys, and when he tries to leave Marin makes him take him with him, because he thinks he'll lead him back to the guy holding his boyfriend. And then explosions! Gun shots! People chasing them and trying to steal back the Macguffin! Advic falling for his naive charm and crack marksmanship while Marin is won over by his tragic backstory and unbelievable cheekbones! Eventually, they defeat the bad guys, Marin realizes his evil ex is evil, and Advic reveals that he was a double agent actually working for the government. Yay happy endings.

5. Tumbling (J-Drama)

The one where the boys are slightly older and supposedly don't know each other, except they are actually all superhero crime-fighters together. Yuuta is a quiet, super-organized, king-of-the-file-folders kind of secretary, and everyone at the company he works for is very confused when Wataru, motorcycle thug turned manga kissa owner, starts showing up at their office to bother him in the middle of the day, and Yuuta has to make up stories about how they are best friends from high school and not guys who spend their free time in tight spandex and body armor fighting supervillains. Tsurumi is a kind of sort of mostly reformed supervillain, and he and Yuuta share an apartment. Kiyama is a broody anti-hero that Wataru bribes into fighting on their side via sex. Basically, everything is the same, but with more transformation sequences.
masterofmidgets: (anything goes!)
In a fit of "OMG I must do something besides sit around being a lazy bum!", I went to Wal-Mart thi afternoon to pick up some minor, non-essential things I needed that I couldn't get at Trader Joe's (including scrunchies, a tape measure, nail clippers, and blue duct tape). Well, that was a mistake. Normally when I go to Wal-Mart it's just to get one or two things, and I'm in and out in ten minutes, but this time...it took me awhile to find the things I wanted to get, long enough that my weird store allergies started to kick in majorly. I had to call [livejournal.com profile] hanjuuluver  to talk so just I would have something to think about besides how much I wanted to pass out/throw up. Not fun! But I survived, and I got my shopping done, and now I'm home and won't be going back for a good long while.

The only upside to the whole thing was a quite lovely conversation I had with [livejournal.com profile] telyanofcelore  on the bus on my way there. It was definitely one of those 'right, this is why I'm an English major, because I am ENORMOUS DORK' moments. It involved a theoretical AU about a celtic rock band composed entirely of Romantic poets - I believe this train of thought started because we agreed Tennyson would have been a much better lyricist than a poet. So he does that. Arthur Hallam, Tennyson's dead gay boyfriend, would be the lead singer. Byron is lead guitar, as if there were any question. Yeats is on bass guitar. Percy Shelley plays the drums, and he always brings his girlfriend Mary to the practices, which everyone bitches about until they find out that she's been secretly writing songs and then they are all impressed. Whitman writes all their music. Oscar Wilde is of course the scathing music critic. BEST AU EVER, Y/Y?

Because of that, today's poem is Yeats. Because Yeats is made of win!

When You Are Old 
  by WB Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

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