Friday, 30 January 2015

Fever 'Fun'

I'm often a weird bunny when it comes to fever.
It started when I was a toddler and I had such high fever that I hallucinated the baby Jesus spinning in the manger in my family's Christmas crib.
Later, I remember imagining that a statue of Julius Caesar was in my bedroom, surrounded by a farandole of black cats.
Once, I was shopping with Mother, and I started talking in... Latin.

Things aren't always that entertaining when I have fever, but they can be.
A couple of days ago, as the defrosting of my nerve VII was beginning to generate some odd bout of fever, I went shopping in the suburbs. I hadn't been there in years, and the last time I went there, I'd taken another line that's fully underground.
This time, the penultimate station is above ground, and the train goes above the river. My train was a very modern new model, and the skyscrapers around at night made it look like a live scene from a Sci-Fi film. My surprise, the strange lights around, the exotic look of the scene (thanks to the spot of fever) are definitely going to be recycled in a plot somewhere.

Oddly, I find myself wishing to watch 2046 again. That might be the fever making me remember that film wrong.

Wednesday, 14 January 2015

I'm Not a Trout

And by that I mean that when I tell "A" and "B" that the file I got from "C" is incomplete, and I get a message from "C" three hours later telling me that I can contact him if there's any kind of issue with his file... I'm not buying the 'Oh, my! What a coincidence!' thingy.
"C" was warned by his friends, and he's attempting some damage control in a discreet way.
Too bad, but:
1 - I wasn't born two moons ago
2 - I can spot a lousy strategy miles away
3 - what had to be done has been on the wall chart for three months.

I'd like it better if people were telling me 'I messed up. I'm terribly sorry. What can I do?'... but I look nice and they think I'm as inoffensive as a trout. They need glasses, need to pay attention, or didn't spot that the water's tricky, coz they haven't spotted the teeth.
I'm not a trout.

Get a Life, Pay Attention & Use More Brain Cells

About last week's events in France, this post's going to be in three growls parts:
- against the brainwashed plonkers who murdered innocent people
- against the idiots who are somehow blaming the victims (and silly bipeds in general)
- against the sheeple who are ready to surrender to terror 'coz'

The bonus shall be about all the awesome people who are reacting beautifully.

So, here we go:

Point 1:
If you're the "mastermind", chief, plonker-in-command behind any "terror" (read: cowardly) act, there are two possibilities:
A) You're a warranted nutcase smoking the bad lawn, and then you're a hopeless creature that will be useful only in fertilizer form (the sooner, the better).
B) You're a twisted plonker who brainwashes people in order to control them and/or make money from their work and/or death. You deserve to rot slowly. Full stop.
[I can't remember if I've stated it anywhere in this blog before, but I don't believe in the death penalty. Since I don't believe in Heaven or whatever, I view death as the easy way out. Despicable bipeds deserve to live a very long life - working from oubliettes in order to compensate their victims.]

It's quite easy, Cupcake...
You're allowed to be shocked, angry, sad, annoyed, but no one died and made you king (or queen), and you've got no right to kill anyone because your "deep" belief that the Supreme Being has been insulted makes you think that you can grab a weapon and start shooting people.
If you want to defend your Supreme Being (you know, the one who, because you think He/She/It is a Supreme Being doesn't need you, the human gnat on Earth, to defend Him/Her/It because He/She/It is a SUPREME BEING, and if you believe that He/She/It created everything, then you're not needed to avenge Him/Her/It - incidentally, if you do hear His/Her/Its voice or voices, phone Bedlam, you need medical help), write a poem, start a petition against the person or persons who offended you (telling him/her/them that they're idiots - or be inventive, but always polite), paint a painting, draw a drawing, sue someone, BUT DO NOT RESORT TO VIOLENCE.

The foot soldiers of terrorism need to be educated. with more brain cells being active, you quickly realize that killing people makes you leave humanity.
The plonkers from point 1B who are using children to blow up people are genitalia-lacking clots.

Basically, it's simple: don't kill people because they say (draw, sculpt, etc...) something that you don't like. You tell them that you disagree, you mock them, you write theses against them, or... *fake gasp* you ignore them because they're not worth your time.

If your so-called faith is shaken by people with a different belief, first you're thin-skinned and you're not fit for survival (and you need to get out of your cave more often), and then your "faith" isn't that deep. Actual, deep faith is never shaken by anything from "outside" (that's where I was until I stopped being afraid, and I apostatised; I know what I'm talking about, and I can still give you lessons about faith).
If you're bothered by anything, work to prove that you're better than that.
As well... Get. A. Life. You're not helping by killing your brothers; you're not helping your so-called cause, and you're not even the real McCoy, or you wouldn't be killing people (this is not 2015 BC, when cults started wars and genocide; get on with the script).
Plant a field, build something,... Do not kill.

I watched again To Have and Have Not recently, and the assorted plonkers need to realize that there will always be people to stand up to them. Always.
Paul de Bursac: You don't think much of me, Captain Morgan. You're wondering why they have chosen me for this mission. I wonder too. As you know, I am not a brave man. On the contrary, I'm always frightened. I wish I could borrow your nature for a while, Captain. When you meet danger, you never think of anything except how you will circumvent it. The word "failure" does not even exist for you. While I, I think always, suppose I fail and that I am frightened.
Harry Morgan: Yeah, I can easily see how it wouldn't take much courage to get a notorious patriot off Devils' Island. But uh, but just for professional reasons, I'd like to know how you're going to do it.
Paul de Bursac: We will find a way. It might fail, and if it does and I'm, I'm still alive, I will try to pass on my information, my mission, to someone else, perhaps to a better man who does not fail. Because there is always someone else. That is the mistake the Germans always make with people they try to destroy. There will be always someone else.

On to Point 2:
There are chums of the plonkers who will always be ready to say that the killing cowards did what needed to be done - back to "Get. A. Life." (and a brain).

There are idiots who will say or write that 'Yes, it's a tragedy, but [mind my Rule #11] the victims brought it upon themselves (to be killed/raped/maimed/WHATEVER) because they'd offended their attackers, or where at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Soldiers have one word for that: chickenshit (that's "poppycock" in civilian parlance).
Nothing ever justifies killing people because they said something, drew something that you didn't like or were doing something that you don't approve of.
If you start saying 'It was wrong, but (...)', you stand by the side of the culprits, and that's because you're:
A) stupid
B) playing ostrich and refusing to say loud and clear that the culprits had no right to do whatever they did.
C) brainwashed and can't make the difference between freedom (of speech, movement or anything) and safeguards put in place by society*.

*: allow me to add something here. Some people are saying that there are limits to free speech. Yes! One doesn't yell 'Fire!' in a theatre (if you do and you get trampled to death, that's instant karma), but if you do not show respect to Zeus or Thor (and you make fun of their followers), it may be unfunny or bad taste, but that's never a reason to be killed.
Some will say that there are different laws all around the globe. Indeed, but it doesn't mean that all these laws are fair: in some countries, I'd legally need a male guardian to be allowed to breathe - that's slavery, and I'll fight against it because I may not be a citizen of those countries, but this is my planet, and I want all my sisters and brothers to be free, educated, and healthy (and happy if possible). Our species has been messing things up for too many centuries; time to grow up, and get working.
The Gods can surely take care of themselves, and arrogant bipeds shouldn't massacre in their names (and that's when I wish that Zeus or Thor were real and they'd blast to oblivion the arrogant bipeds).

Then there are other people who are saying 'What happened in ABC is a tragedy, but let's not forget what's happening in DEF, or GHI, or XYZ!'.
It's not a competition, Cupcake.
Horror and intolerance must be fought everywhere (and that's why learning and teaching History is so important).
I remember the soldiers who were frozen in the trenches in 1914-1918, I remember the victims of Holodomor, I weep for the citizens of North Korea, I want our Nigerian little sisters to go back to their homes and their families, I still miss the Bamiyan Buddhas, and I'll laugh at any plonker telling me that I cannot make fun of him because he believes in the Tooth Fairy (he's welcome to write me a sonnet ridiculing me - or a haiku if a sonnet's too complicated for his three brain cells).
I probably read too many newspapers, and I remember too much History, but that's because I want to be a better citizen of the world.
Of course, we can't fight everywhere at once but, one step at a time, all evil, intolerance, and obscurantism must be fought - or human should no longer be a synonym for kind.


And Point 3:

Some will say that when Benjamin Franklin wrote “Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety” he meant something else (and boy! Can they write convoluted texts that are mostly cryptic and quite beside the point but that serves their agenda).
Whatever Mr Franklin meant at the time, the modern sentiment found in these words is accurate today.
We can see how the smokescreen of Safety can be sold to brainwashed sheeple (American TSA anyone? You know, the ones who illegally irradiate you and pat you down without being police officers - that's illegal, too).
I got it just this afternoon when I objected to my handbag being "checked" (just looking, no touching); I said it was useless because the charming boy who checked it saw only a part of it, and today I was working in a place where all sorts of chemicals are stored (bad guys don't have to bring anything in, they can shop inside - do read Daniel Pennac's Au bonheur des ogres). A colleague then told me that 'it had to be done for safety'.
Honestly, if people paid attention, we wouldn't need that theatre to make sheeple feel safer (the real bad guys have already planned something else, it's the average nutcases that we need to spot - and one cannot do that whilst glued to a mobile screen... just saying).
I'll keep growling, but I'll show my bag at work. Any store asking me that can dream on (especially one like in Au bonheur des ogres).
If we allow politicos to tell us what we must allow to be done to us, allegedly for our own protection, that's just like my needing a male guardian in some countries. Sorry, I'll follow the laws that already exist, but I'll use my lovely brain, my knowledge and a healthy dose of common sense, and if a politico asks me to give him my home keys, my bank account details, and all my Internet passwords, I'll tell "it" to go fry somewhere else.
I bet some so-called terrorists are dying with laughter when they see gutless responses, empty threats, and general inaction - and when they see countries make to quake in their collective boots for nothing (back to TSA: they've never caught any bad guy, but some of their people have committed crimes, but hey! That's for your own good).

Safety, yes, but not in a stupid and scared way - or the bad guys have won (and they must not).

Promised bonus:
There can be a lot of positive energy in the face of most horrific tragedies. If we actually work (not just say things), we could do so much good.
We could improve education, equality, opportunities.
If we treat one another like cousins (even if we disagree sometimes, like in all families), humanity could have a bright future.
If kindness cannot overcome pettiness, stupidity and sheer evil, there's no point in being here (I bet the Easter Bunny and Ma'at would agree with me).

Tuesday, 6 January 2015

Fly, Vinegar, & My Rule #2

Just a friendly tip for lazy, arrogant bipeds: if you need me to give you something (that you badly need, and that you can exclusively get from me), you ask nicely, and you try to make it look as if you did your best whilst you failed miserably (and I'm being kind!).
The thing is, if you keep bugging me after I said "No, I won't give it to you just because you're asking!", if you treat me as if I were an annoying and despicable gnat, if you keep pretending that just showing up (but never doing your job) should be enough for you to get some reward... Let's face it, that won't work too well with me.

Oh, and if you yell at me that (that happened for real, and I'm still growling hours later) I'm, I quote, a 'cunt':
a - I'll report you to our bosses because I'm not your doormat
b- I'll get a witch to curse you (and I'm not even joking)
c - you'll be dead to me from now on

I'm not a fly that's caught with vinegar, respect is never a one-way street, and I wasn't raised in a barn.

I just hope this is not a taste of the year or I'll hibernate throughout 2015!!

Monday, 5 January 2015

Modern Laziness

Of course, things are always changing (and that cannot be helped - I know).
That, however, doesn't mean that I have to be nice and civil when people are too lazy. 
I mean... you open your e-mail client to send a message, and then... you type your entire message in the subject line.
I beg your pardon, but... since the new e-mail window is open, why not actually type something in the subject line and in the e-mail window itself? Or is that too tiring for your three brain cells?
Well... My e-mail client will think that your lazy message with its empty body is some spam, and even if I catch it, I shall ignore it. If you cannot be bothered to type an actual e-mail message, I shan't acknowledge it.
Am I being old-fashioned? Probably. Then again, why should I be the one to follow your lead when I find it annoying, lazy, and impolite?
Sorry, Cabbage, do better next time; "dumbing down" never made it to my vocabulary. Oops.

PS: No one died and made you king, and you're my equal, not my boss. Land, Cupcake...

Sunday, 4 January 2015

And It Was 2015...

Hello, my sweet (mostly silent) adorable bunnies!

May you all have a Happy, Merry, Fantabulastounding, Quiet, & Lovely 2015!

I've got some hope for this year... May I not be proven wrong come 2016...

Love,
Dru

PS: Talk to me? I do not bite.

Monday, 22 December 2014

[Recipe] De Lanor Asian-inspired Soup

My adorable brother gave me a nice recipe for an actual Asian soup. Since I couldn't find all the ingredients, I adapted it, and the new version is so nice that I'm sharing it with you...

For my de Lanor Asian-inspired soup, you'll need:
* some veal stock (I used a brand that comes in 4 doses packs, and I used 2 doses)
* 1 onion
* 3 or 4 shiitake mushrooms
* 4 or 5 black mushrooms
* 100 gr enoki mushrooms
* 3 or 4 baby pak choi
* 2 or 3 chives
* some olive oil
* soy sauce
* salt
* some dried Asian noodles
* some tofu
* hoisin sauce

Prep & cooking time: about 30 minutes

Here's some of the "cast": baby pak choi, enoki, and chives


1 - Cut the pak choi approximately in two (mostly white and mostly green), and wash them.


2 - Cut the white part of the pak choi in thin slices.

3 - Wash and cut the white part of the chive.

4 - Cut the onion in thin slices.

Here's a plate of (mostly) white:


5 - Put some olive oil in a big pot, and sauté the onion, pak choi, and chive on medium-high heat. Add a spot of salt.
When they look tender, add one litre of water, the veal stock, and a few drops of soy sauce:


Let it simmer gently.

6 - Slice the black and shiitake mushrooms, and cut off the roots of the enoki mushrooms:





7 - Add the mushrooms to the soup:

8 - Cut the pak choi green leaves into smallish bits:

9 - Cut the green parts of the chives, and have them ready to be added when you'll serve the soup.

10 - Add the pak choi leaves and the noddles (the ones I chose are very thin and cook in about three minutes)

11 - [aka confession time: I bought the wrong kind of tofu, but my mistake ended up being delicious] I wanted to fry cubes of tofu, but the one I bought was too soft, and I ended up with scrambled tofu, which I generously coated with hoisin sauce.

12 - Pour a bit of everything from the pot into a bowl or plate; sprinkle with the cut chives, and add some scrambled, hoisin'ed tofu to the side.
There you go:


戴きます!

Tuesday, 16 December 2014

I Am [Somehow Like] Spock

I didn't become a trekkerie (that's what I call myself, since I'm a trekker and a trekkie. Deal with it) when I was a toddler, but once I started watching Star Trek, it took me two episodes to fall in love with everything in it.
I was am quite fond of Spock [Note to the world: the first to mention the pseudo-reboot gets introduced to my knee from up close], and it's rather recently that I understood why: I am Spock.
Well, I'm not a half-Vulcan man or a science genius, but my parents are as different as Sarek and Amanda Grayson.

My relatives treat me like a cultural mistake.
The Anglo-Italian side has been mostly ignoring me since long before my birth (there's a Sybok in my life, too).
The Franco-German side has always viewed me as a kind of useless addition to their prestigious lot (allow me to laugh at their stupidity and arrogance).

It took me a long time to build myself since I wasn't sure of anything about my roots (it's tough to build something when you don't have the blueprint or the background, and no one gives you the feeling that you belong), but I did it.
In the end, I got a little revenge: the two grandmothers, both matriarchs (in the ethnological sense, coz I had to be born into two pockets of true matriarchy in Europe), both ended up with only me as their only option to claim an heiress to both their lines...
What's that thing about karma and a beach? Something about 'and then you fry'?...
Cherry on my cake, I could have picked either of their surnames, but I decided to choose my own. It's healthier for me to have created something that has no link with either witch, and none of my relatives can say anything about me, because they don't know my new surname.

Strangely, the odd behaviour because I'm a "happy mix" (using "happy" loosely here) doesn't stop with my relatives. Some of the people with whom I work are treating me differently because they think I'm not the real McCoy (Look! Back to Star Trek!! Awful pun. Sorry!). We're all teaching languages, but they're using one language amongst themselves, and they switch to another one when I'm around. I understand both languages, but they sound as if I'm not worthy of being addressed in the other language - how delightful, guys (Oh! The Sarc font is on, methinks). That's grating on my nerves a bit, but I'm beginning to realize that they were probably raised in barns.
I think I'm going to start using another language to chat with them and wait and see how long it takes the penny to drop...
... I'm suddenly wondering if that plan makes me more "Romulan" than "human" (then again, it's not bad if I'm Saavik: she's the one who got Spock in the end).*insert impudent grin here* 
Cheerio!

Sunday, 14 December 2014

I Must Be Fine Then

I really must have the Void at bay these days (which is awesome - for me).
There has to be something in the air - and I don't mean Christmas.
Ah... Christmas! I've got the feeling that I'm in a bad remake of an episode of Friends, as I know I'm getting something big for Christmas, and I know it's not to give me something big (I've never been interested in big, ostentatious gifts - I'd rather get the tiny thing that costs 50p, but that I really want... Been there, done that, didn't get the T-shirt), it's just to show off (and probably make me feel bad for not having that much money - and, by the way, the holidays are always too much "Oh, but you're wasting your life being a teacher/a writer. You could make so much money if only you <insert stupid idea #3 billion&2>").
But this is not about Christmas.
Nope.
This post is about the weirdness around me these days.
So, without further ado, and in no particular order:
- Neighbours have announcements to make, and I've got one of my own. They get notices on the message board... I don't (I can really feel the love /Sarc off).
- On an overcrowded bus, I keep moving backwards to allow an old lady (she could have been young, or be an XY, same issue: misplaced entitlement) to walk closer to the door as she was getting off at the next stop. At one point, I end up blocked by an old grumpy guy behind me. We reach the stop, and as I'm stuck until Grumpy frees me, the old lady barks at me to move. 
I froze a bit on that one... Wish I'd barked back that I wasn't made of paper and I knew no one who could blink me out and back in. Perhaps she was having a bad day, but mine took a nosedive because of her barking pettiness... Yea... That's the issue when the Void is hunting you: molehills end up looking and feeling like the Himalayas - dumped onto one's ribcage.
- I mention DIY projects to people I know, only to be told that the glue I plan to use is crap (I never mentioned the exact variety I'm planning to use, but, hey! How could I know anything?).
- I mention something I'm going to buy to renovate something in my flat, and I'm encouraged to have it delivered (that would just add a third of the price to the bill) as I'll be unable to carry such fragile and cumbersome items back to my flat in one piece (yea, I'm that clumsy in some people's mind - coz that wasn't out of kindness or concern for me. No... Plain old "That gal will never, ever be capable of doing that").
- Since depression doesn't show (no purple and/or green spots on my face spelling out what the issue is), I've been recently dealing with:
     * people who showed compassion for other people's psychological issues whilst totally ignoring mine ("Aren't you better yet?" Fuck, no. I wish I were, but there's still a sodding sword of Damocles in my life. Sorry to be such a bother, eh?).
     * people who said I should just stop taking the medication that's preventing me from blowing a fuse, coz (fasten your seat-belt! No. Really!) they've heard a doctor on telly say that too much St John's wort can become a poison. Gee! Thanks! Too much water's a poison, too. Should I turn to vodka then? (Mind you, that's beginning to sound like a reasonable option!)

I've got the feeling that whatever I say is going to be twisted, ignored, or belittled.
I'm currently disappointed and angry, but I've got one huge project ahead. That's a bit scary (*cough* Make that a lot!), but that's exciting, too... and you can bet that I won't talk about my project with the odd bipeds in my life, who've been, consciously or not, trying to bring me down.
With the amount of weirdness around, I really must be slightly better (I'd have been crying on a bridge, pointedly looking at the river, just last year).
I really hope I can keep keeping the Void at bay...