I once named a short story character Stephen Daedalus.
“Stephen,” because it was generic. I just pulled it out of a hat.
“Daedalus” because he tried to fly—well, tried to jump off a building—and I thought “Icarus” was just too much.
Then, in a one-on-one meeting about my story, the professor went on and on about how clever my allusion to James Joyce’s “Portrait of the Artist …” was.
I’ve never read James Joyce—even now—and I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. I later read online about Joyce’s Daedalus, found the whole thing profoundly disappointing, and wished I’d searched for the name before handing in the story.
Nothing against Joyce, mind you. I just think we shouldn’t have to share muses.
“I guess if you think about it, with a population that large, the economy in the condition it is, and with the tribal fragmentation of Africa, there probably ARE a bunch of financially strapped Nigerian princes. Maybe we should be taking those emails much more seriously.” — Ryan Isaac (After my Gmail account was hacked this morning and used to phish my contacts on Gmail, Facebook, and Twitter. You know, in case you were wondering if I’d really been mugged in London and decided to reach out to you for help.)
“Today, more filming for the May Day show, including one gag involving John and myself—in the Grimsby Fish-Slapping dance—which ends up with my being knocked about eight feet into the cold, green, insalubrious waters of the Thames. However, once the waiting is over, this kind of stunt is quite pleasurable—it should almost certainly look funny and you are immediately fished out, undressed and given brandy, which is better treatment than most who fall in the river. Also you experience this pleasant feeling that, just by jumping into the river, you have justified you existence for that day and can relax into a state of quiet euphoria.” — Michael Palin; Monday, March 29, 1971; Diaries 1969-1979: The Python Years
“You blogging to me? You blogging to me? You blogging to me? Then who the hell else are you blogging … you blogging to me? Well I’m the only one here. Who the blog do you think you’re blogging to? Oh yeah? OK.” — The Adventures of Travis Bickle in the 21st Century
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From CNNMoney.com.
9.046 Hummers sold in 2009? No wonder they’re having to shut down the brand.
We just started watching the first non-pilot episode of Caprica. If it turns out that all the cylon centurions in Battlestar Galactica have people’s avatars (personalities/memories) embedded in them, a la Zoe Graystone in Caprica, then it would add a neat level of significance to the events of BSG.
ETA: What if the monotheistc STO organization were actually following the missing cylon model from BSG, whom the other models wouldn’t talk about, and whose storyline seemingly was dropped?
I’m not sure I’ll ever find out. The writing in Caprica is bugging me. (Amanda Grayfield’s podium confession? Seriously?)
I think I would be pleased to discover, in the end, that Lost is the book John Locke writes, still bound in his wheelchair, after Helen dies. I love reading about authors’ lives (whether nonfiction, such as Neil Gaiman’s blog, or fiction, such as William Goldman’s introduction to The Princess Bride), and the way familiar characters are now passing through non-island John’s life and might later, as fictitious characters, appear in his novel seems a realistic activity for an author. Also, it would be clever of him to kill himself off well before the end, a la And Then There Were None.
When Adam left and the Ants decided to go the reality show route to find a new singer, no one anticipated such a strong showing by the J’onn J’onzz fans and their high-tech, extraterrestrial autodialers.