Archive for December, 2007
The New Car: Kia Rondo
Posted by Michael Livingston in Homelife on December 31st, 2007
I didn’t really expect to be spending money on a new car this break. Sure, the old Dodge Stratus was a rusting, unreliable pain in the butt that was no fun to drive, but it was, for the moment at least, a working pain. And money, as they say, doesn’t grow on trees. So the idea that we’d actually replace it with a shiny new car wasn’t really planned.
We had looked, though. At the Honda Fit, the Nissan Versa, the Kia Rio, and a smattering of other good and cheap (the latter being of much importance) vehicles. We liked most of them, but not so much that we were willing to shell out the money for one. We were especially disappointed in how darn small they all were. With the kind of money we wanted to spend you just couldn’t get much car. So we’d tabled the idea.
All that, though, was before I got an email from Sam Washington at our local Kia dealership promising some great deals on the Kia Rondo, which are apparently overstocked. Sure, I thought. A great deal. We’ll see.
Well, it turns out that it was a great deal. No, more than that. When I was through with them it was a bloody terrific deal. The Rondo is just about the perfect car, and in the final count we’re hardly paying anything over sticker for the car over the life of the loan. Seriously, the price of the car we wanted, with extras like the spiffy third-row seat and styling roof rails, plus an extension to the best warranty Kia offers (10 years/100,000 miles bumper-to-bumper), plus interest over 63 months, and we barely cracked sticker.
Wow. I daresay I’m a hell of a negotiator.
So, anyway, I signed and bought. Couldn’t be happier. The thing is a blast to drive, and it’s solid. Really well built. Comfortable and comforting, given the length of that (transferable) warranty. I thought the 7-year b-t-b warranty on the LJ was good!
The picture here, obviously, is a stock photo. Ours is gold, and it sits on pavement rather than white ether. I couldn’t recommend a vehicle more highly.
Review of “The Angel of Marye’s Heights”
Posted by Michael Livingston in Fiction on December 23rd, 2007
Sherwood Smith, over at The Fix, just posted a favorable review of Paradox 11. Among the pleasantries are some kind words about my own story in the issue, “The Angel of Marye’s Heights.” My favorite snippet:
With brutally vivid detail, the reader is made part of that terrible push up the half-mile hill into the Confederate artillery, and the aftermath, and unexpected grace. The story’s strength is in the rock-solid research made real, the surety with which Livingston creates distinctive characters before they are blown apart.
Makes me sound rather cruel, but ’tis kind in its way. It’s also good to hear given my current engagement with melding my historical research into my fiction.
Playing with the iPod
Posted by Michael Livingston in Uncategorized on December 21st, 2007
I’m still not sure how I feel about this, but this post is written on an iPod touch. I think that means I’ve joined the new world. Reluctantly, yes, but joined nonetheless.
I remain astonished by this. Seriously. I mean, it’s really quite amazing. I can’t type nearly as fast as I can on one of my computers, but this is faster than I would have imagined. The downside is that I’m now spending precious time (and money) on ipod accessories.
Anyone have advice on iPod fm tuner thingamajigs? Our car lacks an audio in jack.
The New iPod Touch
Posted by Michael Livingston in Homelife on December 20th, 2007
‘Tis been a busy few days, as much significant academic business has been transpiring. I can say little about it just now, I’m afraid, but I’ll post about it as soon as I can.
Among such professional matters, however, I’ve managed to take the time to — gulp! — buy an iPod. Oh, it was a difficult decision. Back in September I bought a cheap Sony mp3 thingy to test the waters in this realm, but I didn’t like it at all. So then I bought a brand-new 80Mb Zune. It was good and bad. I loved the player’s menu system, which was far superior to that on the iPod’s I’d played with. But, alas, the on-computer software was horrid. Pretty but useless. So, after much deliberation, it went back. I thought all was lost.
But then … ah, then I discovered the iPod Touch. Wow. I mean, it’s wonderful. A true work of art, with a terrific menu system — and wifi! Holy smokes!
Never thought I’d own some electronic fruit, but there it is: I own an Apple.
Blah
Best. Instructions. Ever.
Posted by Michael Livingston in Homelife on December 16th, 2007
I’ve been trying to get caught up on everything that the semester forced me to set aside. I spent a day prepping and sending out a sizable batch of short stories — much overdue. I got some last-minute shopping done. Bought the new Eagles double album (listening for the first time now). And I just finished installing a new bathroom faucet.
I consider myself a fairly handy fellow around the house. I was raised around remodeling and that sort of thing, so I’m not scared off by working with pipes or running electricity or putting in walls or, well, whatever. This partly explains why I don’t pay much attention to instructions. (I say “partly” because I’m certain that another major factor is the fact that I’m, well, a guy.)
At any rate, the instructions for this new faucet caught my eye as I was setting them aside, so I actually stopped to look at them.
Magnificent. Clever. Helpful. Funny. Enjoyable.
Yes, to repeat: enjoyable faucet instructions.
Why don’t more companies give attention to this sort of thing? The majority of the instructions I’ve ever looked at aren’t even written in legitimate English. Few make any clear sense at all even after you’ve translated them. Clarity of meaning (and thus language) ought to be a minimum requirement — they are instructions, after all — yet the combination is rare indeed. Indeed, companies seem to regard instructions as an annoying chore.
So to find a set of instructions that has clarity of meaning and much more — using snazzy graphics and a terrific sense of humor to attempt to bring a smile to the beleaguered home installer — is quite staggering. I really am in shock.
That these near-perfect instructions come via the Peerless Faucet Company is, well, unexpected to say the least. Here’s a sample from their “Peerless Guide to De-Installation” (Step 1H):
Again, look out for falling nastiness. Have you banged your knuckles on the pipes yet? If so, congratulations. Get out from under the sink, apply a bandage and move on.
Witty, no? A version of these instructions is available online, along with some other amusing goodies, as part of Peerless’ “Faucet Coach.” Here’s a couple of entries from their online “Visual Glossary” of items you may need to install your shiny new faucet:
GASOLINE. For some reason, you’re going to need to drive to the hardware store at some point during this installation. We don’t know why, but you will. It’s like a natural law or something.
PILLOW. A pillow can cushion your body as you’re lying under the sink. It can also be placed over your mouth in case you feel the need to scream. Which is a need you may soon be feeling. More than once.
These are all, like the print instructions, accompanied by wonderful little art.
Bloody terrific. I’ve half a mind to write Peerless a letter thanking them.
Giants and the Black Death
Posted by Michael Livingston in Academics on December 13th, 2007
In the course of doing some research on giants today, I started looking into what’s known about the Wilmington Long Man, a 235-foot figure on the side of a hill in the South Downs. (A good discussion, from which many of the following facts and figures are taken, is here.) This mysterious figure, pictured at left, has long been associated with the similar Cerne Abbas Giant (famed for his remarkably prominent, uh, manhood), and they’ve both been the center of some post-modern Druidic what-nottery despite continuing uncertainty about their date of origin. (
The Cerne Abbas Giant — that’s him on the left –, for instance, is thought by some to have originally been a comment about Oliver Cromwell, not an ancient Celtic icon.
At any rate, what piqued my interest about the Long Man is a 1776 drawing of it found in the Burrel Collection that represents it quite differently than it is now. It’s fairly unassailable fact that what’s now on the hill side is not as it always was — something one can see with modern ground-penetrating equipment — but this drawing is specific about the differences. 
As you can see at left, this 18th-century Long Man has a rake and a sickle, not the modern simple staves. This change of implements fits with a description of the figure by Richard Gough in 1806. Aside from this change, and some minor differences in the orientation of its feet, the other significant thing to notice in that 1776 drawing is its facial features, which look, well, slightly feminine. Curious.
Just to make it more interesting, though, there’s an earlier drawing, from 1710, the earliest record of the Long Man. In this drawing, the Long Man again has what look to be simple staves or spears, though unlike today it has torso features that just might be breasts. 
In addition, there are odd protrusions on the sides of its head: perhaps Princess Leia hair buns, or perhaps — and I’m likely crazy to make this connection — buboes at the neck.
This is entirely whimsical speculation, mind you. But what if the original figure dated to sometime after the middle of the 14th-century and was intended as comment on one of the plagues? In particular, of course, I’m thinking of the 1348-50 Black Death, which marked its victims with buboes at the neck. Better still, there are folklore reports that the Plague was often personified as an old woman carrying a rake and a broom or scythe.
Coincidence? Almost assuredly.
Interesting? Perhaps only to me.
Useful? Well, maybe. One of my students has written a terrific term paper in which she proposes that one particular giant in medieval literature directly represents the Black Death. I’m currently looking for anything — anything at all — to help support her position.
–
Entirely unrelated to even my meandering thoughts:
Instructions on how to style Princess Leia hair buns.
And, just for kicks, a scene from Spaceballs, at the end of which the princess of Druidia’s hair buns turn out to be headphones:
Stede Bonnet, Gentleman Pirate
Posted by Michael Livingston in Fiction on December 11th, 2007
Last March I hastily scribed a short story about Stede Bonnet, the so-called gentleman pirate, for Shimmer‘s special pirate issue. The issue’s guest editor, John Joseph Adams, aka JJA to F&SF submitters, summarily rejected it — alas — but I can take some solace in observing what a good collection of tales he did accept. My copy just arrived, and I’ve really enjoyed it. You can order yours here, but in the meantime please enjoy the following preview, courtesy of Mary Robinette Kowal, before continuing on with my meanderings about Mr. Bonnet:
Anyway, after it was rejected by the Tri-lettered One, I popped “A Gentleman and a Pirate” in the mail to Shawna McCarthy at Realms of Fantasy. She, in turn, sat on the tale for some months until, at the end of August, she sent me a one-line rewrite request. Though she enjoyed it, she said that the end “fell flat.”
So many projects have intervened that it was only today that I worked on the fix. It was a bit more substantial than a tweak at the end, but I’m pleased with it. The first paragraph (which is actually unchanged since first draft):
Long after the last of the young women left the shoreline still stabbing tears from their cheeks, long after the sun had passed over the spire of St. Michael’s and sent its shadow reaching out toward the spinning birds of the harbour, long after darkness had brought the last sails to port and settled a day-weary quiet over much of Charlestowne, Major Stede Bonnet rose, coughing and splashing, to stand, waist-deep, in the rising and falling tidal waves, just yards from his drowned grave.
I’ll send it back to Realms tomorrow. Once more unto the breach, dear tale!
Grading Done
Posted by Michael Livingston in Teaching on December 10th, 2007
Yes.
Done.
And just in time, too. I seem to have contracted a wee cold.
