Still on the Quest

8:55pm: Librarian porn
There are times when I wonder about myself. I'm reading a PDF from Google Books on Epidemic Ophthalmia and I did a war-dance of glee when I came home to find two volumes of the History of the Army Medical Department (British) on my doorstep.

Mind you, I am poring through both of these dense and fascinating texts for the sake of a couple of fanfics that will probably never be seen by more than a few dozen people...

Ah, research. It's those little details that make everything fun.

1:09am: Hey, a real movie!
With popcorn and everything.

I went and saw Hellboy II tonight with a friend and laughed like a loon more than once, so the week has ended on a high note.

Hmmm. Maybe I'll kick myself to the theater again tomorrow. But it's not as much fun going alone.

11:30pm: Straw - Camel - you know what...
Obama voted to pass the FISA bill WITH the telecomm immunity provision intact. Move on wants him to promise he'll investigate when he's president. I say feh. He already promised he wouldn't vote for telecomm immunity and THAT's gone down the tubes.

I'm switching my voter registration to the Greens. At least Cynthia McKinney understands that I'd rather live with the threat of a possible terrorist attack once every few years than without my civil liberties every single morning of my life.

http://www.runcynthiarun.org/

If the Democrats want to prove that they'll hold any president responsible for his duty to the constitution, they need to get impeachment out of committee and on the debating floor.

Actions speak louder than words.

ETA I'm not committed to voting for McKinney, or anyone else. I'm just sick and tired of the Democrat leadership saying "oh, sure, Bush has violated the Constitution but we're not going to hold him responsible for it because we have to look like we're tough on terrorism."

Impeachment. On the table. I do have other choices.

6:26pm: A Question of Trust
n.b. In the "Decided" AU Holmes is no more than 25 in 1881 and possibly younger... which is my explanation for why he's still taking random courses at Barts when Watson meets him. It also excuses a good deal of the patronizing attitude he gets from the Yard.


Watson has written, now and again, about his diffidence in dealing with me, and yet it was I, not he, who stood at the disadvantage when we met. He was some years older – centuries older in experience – and had already accomplished himself in his chosen field, while I was still studying the final elements I needed to finally establish myself in mine. His travels had taken him to the far corners of the world, while mine had gone no farther than the nearby continent. I had the strength of an athlete, I knew, but had only tested myself in minor scuffles, or mock combat done in the safety of the ring or the piste, while Watson was a veteran of the most disastrous battleground in recent memory. Injury and illness had left him temporarily fragile, but had granted him the authority of the invalid, the indomitable strength born of pain borne without complaint. In short, my new acquaintance awed me, more than a little, and I was careful not to overstep the boundaries.
( Read more... )

11:32pm: Reading from Afar
Another copy of the Strand – another overly romantic story from Watson's hand to remind me of all that I miss so much about London. If it were only safe to write to him I'd offer a critique. God knows we had the argument often enough over the stories he wrote before my "death". And still he hides himself behind the mask of incredulous dullard, transforming conversations between us into tirades from an irascible tutor aimed at a perpetually incompetent student. It fools our foes; they have to underestimate one of us, he'd tell me, if he could.

I certainly did.

11:03pm: All an Act
I have learned many things from my observations -- how a blind man walks, and how sailor ties a knot -- performances I draw from my repertoire whenever I walk out in disguise. But some things I have learned require no makeup to employ. My brother Mycroft taught me to declaim with such authority that no one will gainsay me, and an undergroom of Lord Lillington's how to stop a runaway horse with no harm to the horse or myself. But when it comes to handling women -- ah, there the trick is simple indeed.

I just pretend my name is John Watson.

9:56pm: Who ME?

Although it is kind of interesting how few answers you have to change to get this result instead:

11:28pm: So, that wasn't on the list...
should be working on beta's, answering email, cleaning house, maybe even going in to work and clearing out crap before the new branch librarian turns up on Monday.

What am I doing? Reading Trapper John fanfic I wrote so many years ago I've lost count...

Maybe I'll just go take a nap.

7:10am: this'll have you smiling.
http://www.vimeo.com/1211060

gacked from elanorgardner

A little goofiness makes a morning bright. (but it did work better for me with the HD turned off.)

3:22pm: nice dentist...good dentist... back! back! you fiend!
I never used to be afraid of going to the dentist. I wasn't thrilled at the prospect, but I wasn't afraid of it either. I have teeth (as one of the random dentists I have visited over the years told me) that won't bother me much right up until the day they fall out.
( Read more... )

8:13pm: Yes, I've been in a funk...
And everything I've tried to write lately has gone wandering into the dark recesses of my psyche in ways that I'm not ever likely to finish or share. But I managed something cheerful at last, so here it is.

(If you don't remember, in "A Decided Genius" I set it up that Watson had spent mid-1883 to late 1886 back in the Army, and had damaged his Achilles tendon at the end of that span, giving Holmes a reason to invite him back to Baker Street.)

( Homecoming... fluff warning flags flying )

1:05pm: Telecomm immunity back in the works
It was front page news on the paper version of the Wall Street Journal but you have to scroll down to find it on the webpage.

The deal got announced TODAY and it gets voted on TODAY. I've called my congressmen, you call yours.

12:59pm: okay, now I'm really cheesed off
I work at a public library that happens to get the wall street journal, so what do I see front page top today? An article about a deal that will give the telecomms immunity for the wiretapping. Which is going to get voted on today. (They delayed putting out the news, ostensibly to give Obama time to form a position, but in my book it was to prevent feedback from the public.

I've already called my congressman. Call yours.

2:14pm: yup
the duckies are not my friends right now...

9:05pm: Some good news for a change
The policy updates LJ has just made actually make a fair amount of sense to me. The balance between the corporations legal obligations and freedom of speech is finer, and they're doing some research into one of the hotter topics -- which is an improvement over leaping to a conclusion without really thinking about it.

I've encouraged them to use the email notifications to make sure that everyone sees the changes, but other than that, I'm allowing my little sprig of hope to push out a few leaves before I decide whether or not it's actually a weed.

12:57pm: LJ board elections
If you haven't voted in the advisory board elections, I suggest that you might want to look at the candidates. Jameth, who has a great many votes, is NOT a good choice imho, since he has a history of creating wank for wank's sake and is busy throwing a hissy fit because folks have pointed it out. He's also a member of a comm called "rape an ljer". (Or at least he was when I checked the link, he may have decided to bail since it was pointed out.) Not funny.

I like the positions of legomymalfoy and rm, and I was amused by deathboy enough to put him as my third choice, just incase anyone is wondering. Of the three of them, legomymalfoy is in the best position to knock jameth out of the running. rm also has a lot of secondary votes, which matters because of the way that the runoff works.

http://community.livejournal.com/lj_election_en/25463.html

ETA: positions are linked from here: http://news.livejournal.com/108365.html

1:13pm: Apparently...
My mission in life today was to make someone else's morning shiny. I just hope that whoever found the twenty dollar bill I dropped really needed it.

It hasn't been all bad -- I went and watched Indiana Jones being thumped, chased, blown-up, interrogated, fired, chased, captured, mesmerized, reunited, etc. etc. and had a lot of fun. Those folks really do like smashing things, don't they?

11:25pm: Calling in Assistance
Mycroft had insisted that we should bring in a night nurse. "I know just the man," he'd said, dismissing my apprehensions. "Sherlock can't monopolize your time much longer in any case or your practice will fall to flinders." He did not add that Holmes would need someone if the trial went badly.

Much to my dismay the "nurse" who appeared on my doorstep that day was no youngster, but a man who had spent thirty years as valet to a peer of the realm. "I cannot afford..." I began, but was waved silent.

"This pays back a debt I owe."

2:12pm: Morning Call
Having sent Mycroft home for the night I took my place on the couch near Holmes' bed once again, wondering how I would keep my new knowledge of his past from showing on my face. I slept badly, the screams and babbles of feverish men along the ward at Peshawar mingling with dreams of my friend at his mother's deathbed and myself not much older at my own.

Thank God for Alfie, who woke us both come morning by singing rude nursery rhymes and extolling the praises of porridge with fresh milk and honey on it to disguise the taste!

10:38pm: Calling for Quiet
I hesitated to describe which symptoms should alarm Mycroft, knowing that his brother would likely discern any change in his demeanor. "The main thing," I said instead, "is to keep him quiet and resting long enough to allow any damage to heal itself. As long as we can avoid pneumonia – and I think we've a good chance – he should mend. Just put your energies towards finding ways to help him tolerate bedrest."

"Bedrest," Mycroft repeated, and studied me a moment. "And if you should require him to testify in your defence three days hence?"

I shook my head. "I won't."

10:14pm: sorry if I've been quiet
The drabbles will continue, but at the moment I am in "company" mode. One sister arrived on Thursday evening and another one (and two cousins) arrive tomorrow night. And the party isn't complete till Thursday morning when the last sister reels in.

But I took the first sister to see the final performance of "The Drowsy Chaperone" here in Boston at the Opera House and if the tour hits a town near you, trust me, you gotta go see this one if you have any love for old musicals, broadway shows, or rampant silliness.

Okay, now Holmes and Watson can stop breaking into song...

Goodnight, all! I'll answer comments and write more story as soon as my life resumes!

10:55pm: Call of Fraternal Duty
"It was long ago, and cannot be changed," Mycroft said, in a tone that told me that he was ready to rebuild his walls and defend the past again.

"I doubt your brother would have survived had you not gone for help," I offered.

But he made as if to brush the comfort away. "I was only a messenger, and not a very speedy one. I had hoped to be of more use in this instance," he added, quietly.

"Oh, you are," I said. "You have just not yet learned why physicians consult with each other and not the patient."

10:54pm: Recall the Past
"Your father had the fever as well?" I asked quietly.

"He was cold enough when we found him in the pond," Mycroft answered quickly, bitterly, but then his face changed, and for a moment I saw the grief-stricken thirteen-year-old boy buried within the man. "Perhaps." The words came slower now. "Perhaps. Delirium might explain much. I hadn't thought of that."

I lay a hand on his shoulder. "A man in the grip of brain fever cannot be held responsible," I said sententiously, wishing I had better words to offer. "Except, perhaps, by those for whom he should have been responsible."

10:53pm: Call of Memory
My anger drained out of my boots. "Differently?" I echoed, not expecting an answer. Living with Sherlock Holmes had taught me that there were some questions for which even he did not desire to uncover the answers. But in some ways Mycroft was made of sterner stuff than his brother. He nodded.

"Half an hour earlier and I would have caught Dr. Lewis in his surgery. As it was I had to chase him down on foot through three villages. By the time we reached home our sister had slipped into her final coma and Sherlock and I were orphaned."

10:52pm: Beyond Recall
"Sherlock was but six years old when our mother died. She promised us that she wouldn't, but she did, in great pain and fighting for every breath while our father made us kneel by the bed and recite prayers that I knew even then were worse than useless. Our sister succumbed soon after her, but Father was so busy wailing about his love for his lost wife that he never sent for the doctor, not even when Sherlock took the fever too. That was left to me.

Perhaps, if I had done so sooner, things would have turned out differently."