(no subject)

Went over to saffronhare's for a bit last night to do some ritual planning and watch some figure skating. It works out that way, sometimes. First, we talk about how we're going to break people, then, you know, some classical music and artistic jumps and spins.

Somehow, during the ritual planning, we managed to invent a new god. KD, who doesn't have a terribly strong background in Irish myth, was trying to come up with the name of Manannan mac Lir, but didn't quite make it. What she did come up with was Mac mac Laren. We figure he's the god of soccer. Not so much a gatekeeper, but maybe a goalkeeper.

And then, skating. I haven't seen much of the Olympics this time, owing to the fact that the EHQ television set is not hooked up to the outside world (and that the games are not being shown on the BBC America, which we somehow miraculously get). So it was lovely to get to catch some of the competition at Saff's house. And men's long program, even. Now, I don't know a damned thing about figure skating. I can't even really figure out how anybody tells how many times they spin in the air, or what the difference is between a triple toe and a triple loop, or any of that. The announcers last night were all over everybody's lack of choreography and such, and had there not been discussion of that, I'd never have noticed. To me, it more or less looks like everybody just wings about the ice, and then sort of randomly jumps or spins, sometimes accompanying the action with some dramatic gesturing. I couldn't tell a good program from a bad to save my life, and how they score the damned thing is utterly beyond me.

That being said, I enjoyed the program very much. Because hey, I may not know the sport, but I know what I like. And one of the things I like is slender, well-built men in clingy androgynous costuming. Particularly the American fellow, Weir, and the Japanese fellow, Takahashi. They apparently didn't do all that well. Couldn't have proved it by me. Of course, they're all like 19. I guess that makes me a dirty old man. Ah, well.

In other news, ( Guess what I'll be doing this weekend? )

(no subject)

Went over to saffronhare's for a bit last night to do some ritual planning and watch some figure skating. It works out that way, sometimes. First, we talk about how we're going to break people, then, you know, some classical music and artistic jumps and spins.

Somehow, during the ritual planning, we managed to invent a new god. KD, who doesn't have a terribly strong background in Irish myth, was trying to come up with the name of Manannan mac Lir, but didn't quite make it. What she did come up with was Mac mac Laren. We figure he's the god of soccer. Not so much a gatekeeper, but maybe a goalkeeper.

And then, skating. I haven't seen much of the Olympics this time, owing to the fact that the EHQ television set is not hooked up to the outside world (and that the games are not being shown on the BBC America, which we somehow miraculously get). So it was lovely to get to catch some of the competition at Saff's house. And men's long program, even. Now, I don't know a damned thing about figure skating. I can't even really figure out how anybody tells how many times they spin in the air, or what the difference is between a triple toe and a triple loop, or any of that. The announcers last night were all over everybody's lack of choreography and such, and had there not been discussion of that, I'd never have noticed. To me, it more or less looks like everybody just wings about the ice, and then sort of randomly jumps or spins, sometimes accompanying the action with some dramatic gesturing. I couldn't tell a good program from a bad to save my life, and how they score the damned thing is utterly beyond me.

That being said, I enjoyed the program very much. Because hey, I may not know the sport, but I know what I like. And one of the things I like is slender, well-built men in clingy androgynous costuming. Particularly the American fellow, Weir, and the Japanese fellow, Takahashi. They apparently didn't do all that well. Couldn't have proved it by me. Of course, they're all like 19. I guess that makes me a dirty old man. Ah, well.

In other news, ( Guess what I'll be doing this weekend? )