overstuffed Narn

G'Kar knows just what he wants to say in response to Londo's letters, but I'm suffering textual constipation and, despite loads of inspiration, lack the necessary raisins to make the sucker talk.

My Farscape ficathon story's full-rounded and, in my mind, both sexy and compelling. I'm excited for the characters and the plot. Words won't come.

"Five Things That Really Never Happened to Markus Alexander" is stalled out on thing one, despite the fact I've got 'em all roughed out in my crazy brains. I wrote Victoria some Mal/Kaylee comment porn yesterday and that was the closest I've come to speechifying in some days now, and, written in less'n fifteen minutes, it don't rightly count as tapping the narrative flow.

In an effort to grease the wheels, I've come to play the talk-about-yer-titles game. Figure consulting the Early Sabine Canon can only serve as a kick in the pants, and, hell, writing in LJ's writing too, ain't it?

( everybody having a good time )

inxs

Thanks to viggorlijah for the link; this is a Guardian article, excerpted from an American book about the so-called obesity myth. It makes a lot of valid points (and some disputable ones) about the US's obsession with thinness, but I found most interesting the whip-smart interpretation of this obsession as a way of deflecting embarrassment about our national excesses. Check it out:

For upper-class Americans in particular, it's easier to deal with anxiety about excessive consumption by obsessing about weight, rather than by actually confronting far more serious threats to our social and political health. We may drive environmentally insane SUVs that dump untold tonnes of hydrocarbons into the atmosphere; we may consume a vastly disproportionate share of the world's diminishing natural resources; we may support a foreign policy that consists of throwing America's military weight around without regard to objections from our allies - but at least we don't eat that extra cookie when it's offered to us.
-- From The Big Fat Con Story.