goblin girl


I forgot that this was here.

I went and saw Neil at Carnegie Hall a few weekends ago. It was amazing.
goblin man

(no subject)

The majority of the commenters to the previous update replied to the subject rather than the body. I would not have titled it as I did had I anticipated such a response.
goblin girl

So... people still do LiveJournal?

Recently, on Pax Gobelinus: Stopped working two jobs. New job moved closer to home, so commute went back to normal. Accepted offer for newer new job that starts in a month. Currently biding my time at the "old" new job, were I am not currently able to do any work and wouldn't want to do the work they assigned me even if I could. (It's a long story. What I was told I would be doing is not what they want me to do.)

I spend most of my day reading the paper from cover to cover, completing the crossword, sudoku, jumble, scramble, and cryptogram. The rest of my day I spend anonymously commenting in an off-topic manner to several internal, official work blogs, narrating my on-going adventures as a subterranean hobo king in a fictional shared world based on the on-going construction at the new building and the fact that thousands of us don't have desks there and therefore mill about aimlessly all day.

So: the Pat Rothfuss readings were great. I don't remember what else I wanted to say about it. He talked about porn in the Library of Congress, which was amusing. I was surprised at how willing he was to rip into the questioners during the Q&As. He did this thing where he would "slip" and use a name other than "Oot" when referring to his son -- only it was a different name nearly each time.

There was a young woman at the second Rothfuss reading who really grated on my nerves. She did that thing that a minority, but noticeably sizable number of people, in fandom do where they act like they know better than everyone else and interject contrarian statements into conversations around them. I know that she didn't mean it that way, or see her actions in that light, because she has little or no grasp of the social layer. So I didn't blame her. But that didn't make me less annoyed by her. *sigh*

I once told Connie Willis that I thought we should have a properly socialized member of concom in the front row of every panel with a Nerf dart gun whose job it would be to shoot anyone during the Q&A who started being an ass, or just asked an incredibly stupid question. She was kind enough not to call me a fandom-snob, and said that you have to take people on their own terms. There was more to it than that but I don't remember the rest. Whenever I get too annoyed with people I just remember that Connie Willis once gave me some wonderful advice that put it all into perspective and I give her the benefit of the doubt, even though I can't remember it. She's Connie Willis, after all.

Lastly, I said I was going to discuss Diddy - Dirty Money's "Coming Home" with respect to P. Diddy's Peter Pan complex.

I'm coming home.
I'm coming home.
Tell the world I'm coming home.
Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday.
I know my kingdom awaits and they've forgiven my mistakes.
I'm coming home. I'm coming home.
Tell the world that I'm coming --

So far inoffensive. I rather like the non-Diddy part of Diddy - Dirty Money. (I guess they're Dirty Money?)

Back where I belong, yeah, I never felt so strong.
(I'm back baby.)
I feel like there's nothing that I can't try,

Sure. Try anything. That doesn't mean you're going to succeed, as P. Diddy's career attests.

and if you with me put your hands high
(put your hands high).
If you ever lost a light before, this ones for you
and you, the dreams are for you.

Is he ever going to stop referencing Biggie? You miss him. We get it.

I hear "The Tears of a Clown".
Damn, I hate that song;
I always feel like they talking to me when it comes on.

"Tears of a Clown" was released in 1967. P. Diddy was born in 1969. There is no way Smokey Robinson & the Miracles were writing about him, unless they had a time machine. (Which would actually make a really cool comic book, I bet.) So: egotistical much?

Another day, another Dawn,
another Keisha, nice to meet ya, get the math I'm gone.
What am I 'posed to do when the club lights come on?


It's easy to be Puff, it's harder to be Sean.

The only demonstration of self-awareness in this song.

What if the twins ask why I ain't marry their mom? (Why, damn!)
How do I respond?

Admit to them that you're a commitment-phobic douche? You're over forty; it's time to stop acting like a 22 year old.

What if my son stares with a face like my own
and says he wants to be like me when he's grown?
Sh-t! But I ain't finished growing!

You're over forty. You're an adult whether you want to admit it or not. You need to start acting like it.

Ugh. I can't go on. I am open to alternate interpretations.

So, yeah. Hello again.
goblin man

(no subject)

I am feeling very tired at the moment.
I wouldn't call it "burned out", but others would. Erroneously.
I switched day jobs recently and haven't quite found my feet yet,
plus I squeezed my previous employers for a fat consultancy agreement
so I've really been working both jobs for a while.
This is the last week of that.
And then in another two weeks my new job moves to where my old job was
so my commute goes back to normal.
And by then hopefully I'll have found my place at the new job.
And then hopefully I'll get back to being online.
And then maybe I'll even get back here.

I would like to tell you more personal things about the Pat Rothfuss reading, my conflicted feelings about certain personality traits that seem common in fandom (and the wonderful advice that Connie Willis gave me about putting it in perspective), and my assessment of that P. Diddy "Coming Home" song for a psychological perspective and with respect to the Peter Pan complex.
goblin man

written as a FB status update, but it's 5x too long to post

The web goblin knows that there is something inside of him, greater than him, that can speak for him and say the things that he can't say. Like stuttering Moses, suddenly aflame in inspiration, finding God's words flowing past his lips addressing Pharaoh and his magicians. What's inside of the goblin speaks only in righteous anger.

It's not like those moments when someone says something monumentally offensive and your lid flips and you find yourself letting loose a torrent of fury that seemingly comes out of nowhere. It's greater than even that, greater than any one goblin's anger.

The thing inside the goblin only ever came out in a university fiction writing workshop senior year. The professor was dull and short-sighted; the other students were interested only in an easy 'A'.

The goblin has trouble speaking in groups; the thing inside of him does not. It doesn't hate to interrupt. It isn't always waiting for a break that never comes in order to interject. It doesn't sit by getting increasingly upset at the flood of ignorance going unchecked.

The thing inside of the goblin says the things he wants to say, but says them better than he can, more succinctly, so clearly that even the dullest listener understands, and so forcefully that there can be no rejoinder. The thing inside the goblin understands the points that he wants to make even better than he does, and even he learns from listening to the words the things inside of him has him speak.

The first time the thing inside the goblin spoke, it left everyone stunned. After a pause, the professor chuckled uncomfortably and said that the thing inside the goblin had just spanned what she had intended to cover the day's entire discussion. Class was dismissed. No one spoke as they gathered their things and left.

When the thing inside of the goblin moved within him, and spoke through him, it was like touching something larger than himself, being a conduit for something greater. We're all in trouble if that something is the divine. Especially lit. majors.
goblin man

a life's work

[DATE NOTE: I wanted to publish this tomorrow, but apparently LJ won't let me schedule a future post. I don't trust myself to remember to post it tomorrow so here it is, a day early.]

Exactly thirteen years ago today, I blogged1 that I had figured out what I wanted to do with my life: I wanted to meet interesting people. I think that, by any reasonable metric, I have been successful, though there is still plenty of room to grow.

I may never be famous. I may never be powerful. I may never be an influencer or a social nexus point2. But, as I wrote then, even Forrest Gump met a whole lot of interesting people just by being kind and being himself. That I can be (though sometimes it's not easy).

Exactly five years and five months ago tomorrow, I decided that I wanted to get to know Mr. G, and set about making it happen. It took a lot of concerted effort3 and in the end I believe that it was kindness that finally brought it about4.

As Conan O'Brien once said, "if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen." It's absolutely true.


  1. I was blogging in 1997, and had been for years at that point. Everyone thought I was crazy to put myself out there online.

  2. Particularly if I continue blogging as rarely as I do.

  3. More than I care to admit, actually, lest anyone get the wrong idea.

  4. Being yourself might be sufficient if your self is sufficiently awesome. In my case, I think that the kindness made up for, or at least distracted from, my other shortcomings.

goblin man

quickly, two free tickets to AFP tonight

Two friends sadly will be unable to make it to the AFP show tonight in Falls Church, VA, so if you're in the area and don't have a ticket and available... I also have one seat left at a reserved table for dinner, $10 minimum not including spirits.

First two people to reply here or via twitter gets the tix.
goblin man

a small update

When Mr. G is in China, he is unable to access the Journal at any time, but can read the title of each post via Twitter. I was really tempted, this past time, to play a little joke on him by entitling an entry something provocative, then beginning the entry (which would be hidden from him) by immediately making it clear that the title was a joke. Something like, "Mr. G to direct Dr. Who". ^_^

I had a good time out in Minneapolis. I saw some friends.

I will be at the AFP concert on the 19th. I have no idea what to wear. I doubt my new goblin ears will have arrived by then, alas. Maybe a "Lorraine a' Malena" shirt? That might be suitably obscure, and concert-appropriate. I've never seen AFP live. I'm looking forward to it. Will any of you be there? We could plan something, perhaps...

I'm happy to see that Mr. G's posting frequency is up of late. I hope that he continues to have fun with it.

I am sick. I was fine with it until this morning. Now I've reached the "it sucks" stage of sickness. Blegh.
goblin man

remember, remember...

Happy 5th of November, all.

"Dan Guy" isn't some diminutive pen name, it's my actual first and middle names; my last is an Americanized "Fawkes". As unfathomable as it is to me now, my parents named me after Guy Fawkes.

Let this be a lesson to future parents: don't name your child after someone whom you don't want them to emulate. Names are powerful things.

If you don't see the previous locked post then you need to friend me so that I know that you're out there.

And, for the record, when I said that making a locked post made me feel mischievious, I didn't mean to suggest that I had any sort of mischief in mind, honest.