Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

On the subject of yogurt.

Any excuse is an excuse not to work. The excuse du jour is: "It's too dark in the office." I could remedy this by flicking on a light switch, but why?

Damn, how I want to be home writing. It's hours and hours away. After work, the gym. After gym, a haircut. These are necessities. And then I will snuggle up to my computer--but for how long?! Because I need to be in tomorrow at eight a.m. for a conference call.

I still punish myself by reading all of the "What I Will Never Ever Read" entries on incoming BetterBuffyFics introductions. There was a creative one recently that I'm going to pick on, a masterpiece of circumlocution designed to avoid saying, "I don't read slash," by stating that "I never read relationships not supported by previous evidence in canon." (And that's still my boiled down version.) To split hairs, no, this isn't anti-slash, because it assumes one will read Tara/Willow, but not Willow/Spike--to use the example given. And yet. For fuck's sake. Evidence is in the eye of the beholder. And you know, Joss could pull a rabbit out his ass tomorrow and marry it to Anya, and at least half the audience would say, "Oh, how romantic." I'm just saying. Spike. Anya. Was there any prior evidence for that little liaison before "Entropy"? No. And yet, there it is. Suck it up. It's all in how you sell it. And those Mutant Enemy writers? Are just as fanboy and fangirl geeky as we are, and have just as many naughty thoughts. Be sure of it. If they *could* get away with it, they'd have Xander and Spike shagging like minks, just because. But *they* have to make a finite number of choices with which to shape canon in twenty-two episodes, while satisfying Standards & Practices, and while trying to keep their ratings afloat besides. So run! Run fast! Cut yourself loose from the herd of ninnying, sheep-minded wankers who think love only shows its face in tidy forty-four minute increments, broken up by commercials for Ikea and Wheaties!

Wanker, meet imagination. Imagination, wanker.

I think that rant came out of my yogurt. I knew those weren't peach chunks in the bottom.
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