Darqstar (darqstar) wrote,

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My mother, Grimjack, Star Trek, and other random thoughts.

My mom is in the hospital. They put her on a new way of getting oxygen. Instead of the nose tube arrangement, they basically punched a hole in her throat and have a tube running down directly to the lungs. This is supposed to be a far better, far more efficient way of her getting the oxygen she needs. I'm hoping it will work. At the very least, I'm hoping it will mean her nose and ears will stop hurting because she won't have that horrible hose wearing down at them.

I'm going to visit her today. I'm meeting my dad and we'll drive in together. I'm tempted to say, "We can take my car!" but I know he won't go for it.

In other news? Yesterday Todd and I picked up issues 1, 2, and 4 of the new Grimjack series. Couldn't get three, which sorta sucks. But the ones we did get? Yeah, good stuff. I remember when I sold my entire comicbook collection, the only ones I saved was my entire run of Grimjack. Such an awesome comic.

Got me to thinking about Choices too. The first X-Men fanfic I ever wrote. And, probably one of the first fanfics on ACFF with a sex scene in it. A lot of people wanted me to do a sequel to that, and I had one pretty much plotted out, but Denver's father was (the second Grimjack) was supposed to actually be in the story, and I'd heard that Ostrander was trying to get the rights for Grimjack back from First and was asking that his fans didn't smear him all over the net. Now, seeing that that issue has been worked out, I'm tempted to pick it up again. Of course, history has marched on since then, and everything I came up with for the story has been pretty much proved totally impossible, at least from the X-Men POV, but eh, I can work around that. "This world was created before Marvel decided to go into everyone's backhistory and explain every little thing they did from the moment they were born until present day..."

Origin stories are funny. Whenever you have the "person of mystery" in a comic, people start clammoring for the "whole origin story!" Then, when it comes out, you get people who are disappointed, because they came up with their own origin story and it totally differs from what canon says it now is.

I always swore if I'd written a comic book with a "mystery guy" I'd plot out his entire origin before I wrote the first word, just so that when the time came, it would be there. Then I would probably deliberately not write one, just so fans could argue it out among themselves. Sometimes the best way to handle things is not to handle them at all. Sorta like with Star Trek. My trekkie friends and I would argue for hours over why Klingons looked entirely different from the first series to the movies. Yes, one spoilsport (usually me) would say, "Because they had a bigger budget and could do more with makeup." But we had a lot of fun coming up with theories and reading about other theories and arguing them to death.

"Noo, it was surgery! They surgically altered all the Klingons they sent into space so they'd fit in!"

"Oh, bullcrap! Everyone knows that the Imperial Klingons we an enslaved race that rose up and took over..."

So, finally they did those crossover episodes. And someone asks Worf, "Why do these Klingons look different?"

And we all held our breath, waiting to see what the answer would be. The final answer which would solve all our debates, and prove once and for all, who was right and who had their head up their ass.

And Worf goes, "We don't like to talk about it."

Beautiful. Freaking beautiful. The arguments could continue and no one was right, no one was wrong. I'm not sure why they did it that way, but man, it was a gift to fanfiction writers and RPers. Back then, my RPG group was going extremely strong and I have to admit, I was getting worried that if they'd actually answered the question, I'd have to deal with my peons players arguing with me. "Well, now you're wrong!" I hate that.

Now to change the subject completely, yet again... we have a squirrel that sits on the fence next door. The houses on this street are really close. Like, so close that if I'm in Todd's bedroom, I could open his window, stick my arm out, not even all that far, and touch the building next door. So, the squirrel on the fence is about 5 feet away from our kitchen window. He sits up there for hours.

And Goten sits up there and stares at him, tail flicking, teeth chattering, making all these noises that I assume translate to, "Damn it, if I can just get through this window, your butt is MINE. How dare you taunt me by sitting on that fence?"

I'm waiting for the squirrel to raise his paw in that "Bring it on" motion.

I admire that squirrel. He reminds me of that bird we had that would come up to our window to feed late at night and drive the cats up the wall.

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