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BossBoss: So did you go to Grant Park last night?
Sam: Nah, I stayed in. Hey, did you notice how quiet the train was this morning? Everyone's exhausted or hung over.
BossBoss: Yeah, I know the feeling. My wife and I went to Crew Bar -- did you know they had gay sports bars?
Sam: I'd heard rumours.
BossBoss: It was amazing. They called the race for Obama and the place lit up. A bunch of guys kissed me. Do you know what a silver fox is?
Sam: *dies laughing on the inside*

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BTW -- am still wrestling with the computer and with livejournal over getting my old entries uploaded. IF YOU SEE an entry from me that looks out of place or seems irrelevant but is at the top of your flist, check the date. And then let me know, so that I don't fill your Flist with posts from August of 2007. Thanks guys :D

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Bit of free publicity for a good cause, and because I'm insanely jealous I can't attend myself:

The Comic Book Legal Defense Fund is hosting a dramatic reading from THE SANDMAN by Neil Gaiman at the Helen Mills Theater in NYC on Saturday, November 8 at 7:30 pm. Veteran voice actor Tom Wayland and others will read from some of the most politically charged excerpts of THE SANDMAN in honor of its 20th Anniversary.

Stories being performed:
Three Septembers & A January, originally published in THE SANDMAN #31 / Trade #6
The story of Joshua Abraham Norton the first, last and only Emperor of the United States of America that incorporates an explanation for his strange career centering on a challenge between Morpheus and Despair.

The Golden Boy, originally published in THE SANDMAN #51-56 / Trade #8
A revival of a 1970s DC character named Prez, it's the story of the US's first teenage president, which considers how we view our leaders—while they're in office . . . and once they're gone.

The story of Joshua Norton the First (which is based on a true story) is one of my all time favourites. :)

Only 100 tickets are available, and you can get yours by giving a $50 donation to the CBLDF. Hope this helps someone give to a good cause AND get to see what's sure to be a great performance!

The Comic Book Legal Defense Fund was founded in 1986 as a non-profit organization dedicated to the preservation of First Amendment rights for members of the comics community. They have defended dozens of Free Expression cases in courts across the United States, and led important education initiatives promoting comics literacy and free expression.

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Well. That went fast.

When I started pulling together all the little strands of information I'd need to recover the journal after the hack, I was optimistically guessing a few weeks aloud, though privately thinking it'd probably be more like a few months before everything that could be recovered was. Now that I'm working with the mirror sites, though, it's moving pretty fast. I managed to get August 07 through March 08 uploaded last night, and today I went through and unlocked, backdated, and tagged every entry.

Some entries are missing, of course, where either IJ wouldn't archive them or they were never posted there in the first place. Those'll take some time, but I can nick 'em off the Google Reader feed. Depending on how fast I want to work, I could be finished by the end of this week. Certainly by December the journal should be as close to its original state as it is likely to get.

As much as I like having a record of my life, I was half-tempted to delete everything relevant to Bernard's little pissfit in December and my family's resultant nervous collapse. Instead I sanitised some posts that had been locked and then unlocked them because really, it's a fairly compelling story, especially given the fandom aspect of it. I'd totally forgotten the idea of interfandom wank breaking out because Bernard and I were at each others' throats IRL, but it still makes me laugh.

I wrote this somewhere in early 2008, and it's either incredibly prescient or deeply ironic, I'm not sure which.

I wrote a sonnet ages ago about the peril of preserving information on modern data-storage hardware, especially from the viewpoint of an archaeologist in our distant future; they may not have the ability to read a CD or a Jumpdrive, but a piece of carved rock is always a piece of carved rock. I don't advocate going back to the way it was done under Augustus or anything, but when something like this happens it does make me think about how my life is recorded. And then I start thinking about "internet archaeologists" digging up fragmented corrupted files in the distant future, and I want to write another novel, which I think is just proof that my mental self-preservation instincts are still intact.

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Mum: *text of angstful sadness*
Sam: *text of bewildered but hopefully comforting...something*
Mum: *ANGSTFUL SADNESS*
Sam: Do you want me to call you?
Mum: NO BUT WHAT DO I DO I AM FIGHTING WITH MAMA TICKEY.
Sam: Uh. Well, nobody's ever at their best in the evening. Why don't you table the fight for the evening and come back in the morning and see what it looks like then?
Mum: Oh. Good idea. Okay.

SO HERE ARE MY QUESTIONS.

1. Why am I always the parent?
2. Why is she suddenly listening to me when I suggest something and tangentially
3. What is she secretly plotting?
3a. Or, did Lucky slip her a Xanax in her tea?

If the indy film industry is anything to go by most teenage kids are angry and rebellious over their parents taking drugs, but I swear to you once you are a grownup and your parents are looking to you for solace you will be so grateful for Xanax.