A random comment just gave me a weird vision of an AU internet-modelled world where fandoms are like guilds and fans gather together in person to hang out and go on quests to stalk the actors/sportspeople/whatevers of their fandom and bring back pictures. Or possibly items of clothing; you'd probably get about a million points for their underwear.
I am confused by this internet version of reality. On one hand it'd be marvellous to live in a house full of tennis fans or Doctor Who fans or whatever but... can you imagine things like 'ship wars in person? Possibly with blunt objects?
I wonder if the many-worlds theory means that this universe actually exists somewhere. That's...quite a scary thought.
*
Slept in hugely late today (my alarm went off at 8am, my second alarm at 8:30am, I got up at 11:30am. Yeah) because I fell back asleep after my alarm and dreamed that there was a bunch of us on a school bus with a driver who didn't know the way and got us lost down a grassy road leading to some ruins. Then faeries - of the tall-freaky-sort rather than butterfly-wings-and-sparkles sort - chased us into a hotel-like building beside the ruins and told us we weren't allowed to leave.
I woke up, thought "that felt really familiar" but it took me half an hour and breakfast to realise that the moment we got locked in, I knew there'd be no cell phone signal and went to the bar that I knew was in there to ask for their landline phone. At the time it seemed perfectly reasonable that I knew to do this because I'd been there before. And I have; I dreamed basically the same thing years ago. It was like being in a movie but knowing the entire plot so you could skip the boring bits.
I'm pretty sure that last time I didn't have a phone conversation with Stéphane Lambiel when I called for help (why did I call him? Not a clue. Maybe I thought he had special Faerie-fighting abilities. I can't imagine why). That was new. Sadly I spent the entire time arguing with my brain over his accent. It went something like:
Me: He doesn't sound like this.
Brain: How do you know?!
Me: I watch stuff on Youtube. You were there.
Brain: ...Maybe French accents sound different on the phone.
Me: Maybe they do but I doubt they sound exactly like the Monty Python and the Holy Grail French soldiers.
Brain: Ah-hah! But he's Swiss.
Me: ...Did you seriously just argue that all Swiss-French accents sound like the insulting soildiers from Monty Python?
Brain: Maybe. Shut up and go fight some faeries.
Consequential Youtube research has proved that he sounds, more than anything, like someone took a French accent and an American accent and bred a mutant child from them. It's really quite sweet but mostly importantly, I was right and my brain was wrong. HAH.
eta: Bonus! Monty Python versus Stéphane Lambiel. I think my brain is on crack without me knowing or something; it's the only explanation. I mean, what. The day Stéphane Lambiel says "English pig-dogs!" is the day the entire universe folds up on itself and hides in a corner sobbing.
(...Which doesn't mean I wouldn't be laughing for the split second after he said it and before we all got universe-smushed. Hysterically.)
I am confused by this internet version of reality. On one hand it'd be marvellous to live in a house full of tennis fans or Doctor Who fans or whatever but... can you imagine things like 'ship wars in person? Possibly with blunt objects?
I wonder if the many-worlds theory means that this universe actually exists somewhere. That's...quite a scary thought.
*
Slept in hugely late today (my alarm went off at 8am, my second alarm at 8:30am, I got up at 11:30am. Yeah) because I fell back asleep after my alarm and dreamed that there was a bunch of us on a school bus with a driver who didn't know the way and got us lost down a grassy road leading to some ruins. Then faeries - of the tall-freaky-sort rather than butterfly-wings-and-sparkles sort - chased us into a hotel-like building beside the ruins and told us we weren't allowed to leave.
I woke up, thought "that felt really familiar" but it took me half an hour and breakfast to realise that the moment we got locked in, I knew there'd be no cell phone signal and went to the bar that I knew was in there to ask for their landline phone. At the time it seemed perfectly reasonable that I knew to do this because I'd been there before. And I have; I dreamed basically the same thing years ago. It was like being in a movie but knowing the entire plot so you could skip the boring bits.
I'm pretty sure that last time I didn't have a phone conversation with Stéphane Lambiel when I called for help (why did I call him? Not a clue. Maybe I thought he had special Faerie-fighting abilities. I can't imagine why). That was new. Sadly I spent the entire time arguing with my brain over his accent. It went something like:
Me: He doesn't sound like this.
Brain: How do you know?!
Me: I watch stuff on Youtube. You were there.
Brain: ...Maybe French accents sound different on the phone.
Me: Maybe they do but I doubt they sound exactly like the Monty Python and the Holy Grail French soldiers.
Brain: Ah-hah! But he's Swiss.
Me: ...Did you seriously just argue that all Swiss-French accents sound like the insulting soildiers from Monty Python?
Brain: Maybe. Shut up and go fight some faeries.
Consequential Youtube research has proved that he sounds, more than anything, like someone took a French accent and an American accent and bred a mutant child from them. It's really quite sweet but mostly importantly, I was right and my brain was wrong. HAH.
eta: Bonus! Monty Python versus Stéphane Lambiel. I think my brain is on crack without me knowing or something; it's the only explanation. I mean, what. The day Stéphane Lambiel says "English pig-dogs!" is the day the entire universe folds up on itself and hides in a corner sobbing.
(...Which doesn't mean I wouldn't be laughing for the split second after he said it and before we all got universe-smushed. Hysterically.)
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