A thought I had while watching "War Without End": the problem I was having with the Sheridan/Delenn relationship was that he's all human and sort of bluff and soldiery, and she's much more intellectual and sort of ethereal. But then there was the bit where they were walking down the corridor of the White Star with Sinclair, and I sort of blinked and the world shifted.

Sheridan and Delenn are Ron and Hermione. This, sadly, leaves Sinclair to be Harry; he is appropriately Destined, but Daniel Radcliffe could act Michael O'Hare into the ground. (On the other hand, some people might consider the HP series improved if Harry had mysteriously vanished early on -- transferred to Beauxbatons, for example, until such a time as he could be sent back to help found Hogwarts. This idea is 100% Snape approved.)

Anyway, having come to this significant realisation, I can now rest happy and ship them properly. Although, I like to believe that Lennier occasionally sends Sheridan copies of Improving Works of Minbari Philosophy, and Sheridan looks at them for a minute, then passes them on to Marcus.

Also, I did watch "Walkabout" and "Grey 17 is Missing", but I fast forwarded through all the bits with Franklin or Garibaldi. I don't have much use for Franklin at the best of times, but I can't help thinking that On The Eve Of A Devastating War is not the time to go, "Actually, I'm having a spiritual crisis. BRB, appropriatin some culture nao!" I know there were Circumstances, but still.

Then I watched "And the Rock Cried Out, No Hiding Place", which was sort of awesome for the Londo-G'Kar fake-out, and the bit where Delenn is all, "I maked you a war fleet", and Sheridan's like, "OKAY I HAS TO KISS YOUR FACE NOW".

I was less enthralled by the bit where the reverend goes, "BTW, Sheridan, she loffs you. Idiot". At first I was all, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" But then I had flashbacks to Rusty the Shipper Dalek. Turns out that Doctor Who has left me violently allergic to scenes where outsiders observe Obvious Truths about pairings. But then there was face kissing, so that was okay.

ON A TOTALLY UNRELATED NOTE: Bella Swann/Albus Dumbledore. The House o'Squid ships it. Do you?

To take my mind off WarningGate, aka Why Can't You Silly Girls Who Claim To Have Survived Assault And Abuse Just Go Away and Stop Bothering Us A Palooza, I decided to concentrate on something that would make me happy. Unfortunately, it turns out that I wasn't in the right frame of mind to write a cracksome DW/B5 crossover, but don't worry, the line "Remember, Martha, never play strip poker with a Vorlon" will live to see another day. Whether you like it or not, really.

Anyway, that didn't work, so I had to turn back to a simpler time. Specifically, 1985. I was a very deprived child, you see -- and no, this isn't about WarningGate, it's something far more serious. My mother, you see, had good feminist principles, especially when it came to the intersection of rank capitalism and patriarchal views of femininity. The result was that I was only ever allowed to have one Barbie, and even that was a reluctant concession on Mum's part.

The problem, of course, was that it was sort of a golden age for Barbies. Not in a collector's sense, but in a fabulous outfits for little girls to play with sense. Remember Astronaut Barbie? Day-to-Night Barbie, who could go from the office to a nightclub by taking off her jacket and turning her reversible skirt inside-out? I had one Dream Glow Barbie. She was more than a bit magnificent, especially after one of my relatives made me a vast wardrobe of non-glowing clothes for her to wear. But there was one Barbie I wanted desperately, and I was never allowed to have her.

Barbie and the Rockers.

It was TERRIBLE! All my friends had her, and the playset, and the cassette, and the multiple outfits with leggings and leg-warmers and completely random fluffy bits that were meant to go in her hair! For a brief, shining moment, I was going to be allowed to see Barbie and the Rockers play live at the local shopping centre, but then there was a minor disagreement between Mum and I (...okay, I may have lay on the floor screaming and pounding, but I felt very strongly about ... well, something), and I was forbidden to go.

Anyway, piecesofalice has heard this story many times, and this year, she rectified the situation.

That's the original Barbie and the Rockers. In 1986, a second generation design came out, with curly hair and a different outfit, and that's the one people remember. But the lady above was the first. Check out those rocking silver leggings! I saw a girl wearing an identical pair the other night.

( More pictures! )

I'm one episode away from finishing the second season of Babylon 5. It was a vast improvement over season 1, even if -- for the first half, at least -- the episodes seemed to be drawn from a pre-supplied mix of plot elements: hilarious alien culture clash, Earthdome politics, Narn vs Centauri politics, Minbari tradition, comedic B-plots involving Ivanova and/or Garibaldi.

Anyway, I watched "Comes the Inquisitor" last night, and had to stop and flail a bit, and right now I'm making cesario watch it. Delenn is just marvellous, really. Like Romana in her presidential phase, only less cranky and more sane. But also a bit like Laura Roslin. It is, in fact, worrying to realise just how much of BSG was shamelessly nicked from B5.

But all of these thinky thoughts are but a distraction from my real purpose: KOSH. ISN'T HE HILARIOUS? He is a walking, talking nonsequitur machine. You know those obnoxious greeting cards printed with would-be profound "quotes"? These ones? It is my personal belief that Kosh has a second job coming up with them.

( Permit me to demonstrate. )

FOR ALL YOUR WANKY QUOTATION NEEDS, SEE KOSH! SEND THEM TO YOUR FRIENDS! LOVED ONES! COMMEMORATE BIRTHDAYS, WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS WITH KOSH!

I watched "Black Orchid" again yesterday, and marvelled at how it was quite a good story for Tegan, especially considering she didn't do anything except drink, dance and flirt. (Not such a good story for the Doctor, who fails at having sympathy for Ann after she's attacked, even if she is accusing him, or Nyssa, who is just ... there.) And then I had more thinky thoughts about Tegan, only I'm far too busy and important slothlike to articulate them properly, so here is the lazy fangirl's meta: a picspam.

( 'You're a beaut dancer!' )

Researching domestic violence, I came across this:



Don't go and see their tips for appeasing angry wives. Just ... don't.