(sotto IR Baboon voice) I are uploading new fic page with award on it to show world how clever I R is. Well, I tried being uncaring and cynical yesterday, telling myself it was just an online poll and more a popularity contest than a mark of true merit (but I is still winning :P), but it was probably conducted with more integrity than any American or Australian federal election, and the Booker prize is a measure of extreme onanism rather than any technical skill, and, by heck, I feel like dancing around, or at least dancing around on the inside, just for a bit today. The last time I won anything was 1989 or somthing, so I want to savour the moment a bit before people kick my head in. Don't envy me my success, she says, with the wilting gestures of a grand southern dame :p
Smallville: The one with the breastplate of Alexander the Fabulous. Lex invites Clark to his swank party, and he's brought Clark's beard along too. Unfortunately Lex has byo'd his own beard again and Clark gets pissy and pouty. A bus driver keels over. "Must be from the Ryde depot," quips Bro. I thought they were supposed to have medicals (I did the forms) but apparently they still plough into things. This guy drives like the driver I had this evening, the one that forced me off the bus and into walking home - it seemed safer. Pa Kent ends up in gaol as somebody's bitch. "Don't put my dad in gaol, he's too pretty!" Too bad, kid. More disturbing scenes with Clark and his dad in the clink. Clark takes out a load bearing beam in his house. Lex gets all suspicious and ups the ante on his Clark stalking activities. Love the way Lex was just parked late at night by the Kent's farm. "On the street where you live..." Good to see those bomb disposal classes Lex took coming in handy at last. You can never know when the opportunity to impress dumb arse security guards might arise. Clark ends up on Amerca's funniest crime videos and Lex beds a floozy. You know, I completely forgot the beard showed up in this episode. Shows how memorable she was. Bad Lex, but I guess Clark's playing hard to get. Lex is trying to make him jealous and it's working. Btw, Lana taking over the newspaper, what a bitch. I totally agree with Chloe, especially as Lana only gave it back when she realised how much work was involved. Your typical alpha girl bitch, needs all of the glory but none of the effort. How much do I hate Lana? Let me count the ways.
Too amusing. Yesterday I was all too easily amused by having an email from a John Crichton at work. So I told a friend. Who nows tell me a certain American actor has now heard about my work email. Mon Dieu! Six degrees indeed!
----- Original Message -----
Sent: Tuesday, September 03, 2002 12:27 AM
Subject: fwd from my work
> This just arrived in my inbox and I thought you might be amused. Read
> down to the very bottom contact addy:
> **If you are not interested in the application of soil science in
> natural resource management then delete.
> Attached is a flyer for the Australian Society of Soil Science NSW
> Branch excursion to the Blue Mountains.
> It covers issues of urban salinity, native vegetation rehabilitation,
> links between soil type and vegetation communities, soil conservation
> for maintainence of water quality and some interesting research into
> what makes the Blue Mountains as they are today.
> Arrange a flex day or two and come along for professional development
> If you are interested please contact email@example.com
Speaking of work, I'm still bothered by the kettle massacre yesterday. I mean, this isn't the first kettle I've found mutilated around here. Somewhere amongst these mild mannered nerds lurks a serial white goods abuser with pathological kettle issues. Eeep.
I'm wearing my buddha t-shirt today, dress code be damned. I had horrible dreams all last night (most far too slanderous to mention here) and I needed some cheering up. :)
The plot thickens. Turns out the real John Crichton is a former work colleague of my father's. This is too weird. I feel I should go, just for the chilhood nostalgia of a forced march through the Blue Mountains looking at dirt.
Backyard update: It still looks like Christo has been past, ie everything is wrapped up in big blue plastic sheets. Apparently I'm the only one who has ever made a queen sized bed so it was my job to wrangle the billowing plastic sheets. My chives have gone all wilty, and just when I'd nursed them back to robustness. They like the veranda and nowhere else, apparently. Too bad the hardware store has gone. I should have liked to have picked up a punnet of daisies on my way home, just to stick in a now vacant pot. Ah well.
This SV bitlet is rated MA for m/m sexual references, in which Jonathan gives Clark the talk and Martha wishes she could chat to Mrs Evans in Roswell about the difficulties in raising gay alien sons.
"Alright, Clark, yes, I wish you'd chosen just about anyone on the planet other than Lex Luthor, but it's not just that. I'm worried about what Lex might do to you - if he found out who you really were. And I'm worried what you might do to Lex."
Clark stared at him horrified.
Jonathan decided to put all of his cards on the table. Things had gone too fast, too far , to beat around the bush any longer.
"The reason why I didn't want you to play football is the same reason I don't want you to be having sex with Luthor. My personal dislike of the man aside - son, you're young and you're new to this. I know what it's like to lose yourself in the moment. Suppose you lost control, just for a second, and you hurt him, really badly."
"I don't - it won't happen."
"Don't lie to me, Clark. You think I don't remember what it's like, to lose all control, to just give yourself up to sensation? Only I can't bend steel with my bare hands. You can, and bones aren't as strong as steel."
"You're saying I'll hurt Lex because I can't control myself."
"Are you willing to take that chance, with Lex's life, just for one moment of pleasure? Could you live with that on your conscience, for the rest of your life?"
Clark turned away.
"This is the talk?" he mumbled. "That I can't have sex, with anyone, ever?""I don't know, son. I wish to god I did, but I have to make you face facts. I'm sorry, but you know you're different. You know you can't live a normal life, as much as we all want it. I'm sorry Clark, that's just the way it is."
Clark slumped onto the steps, shattered.
"If you love Lex as much as you say you do, can you really risk hurting him?"
Clark stewed for a few seconds then shot up, nearly screaming in his grief. "I hate you! I hate my life! Why didn't you just let me die in that crater!" And then he was gone.
Jonathan sank down on the steps, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. After a moment he sensed his wife hovering nearby, and gazed up, stricken.
"I've lost him."
She gave him an empathic look. "It had to be said. We've worried about this for months. We should have said something sooner. He's sixteen, he curious, it's only natural."
"Only there's nothing natural about it. He could snap Lex like a twig if he forgets himslf for a second, and our lives would all be over. You know that. Clark knows it. Clark would never forgive himself, never mind what Luthor's lawyers might have to say."
He floundered, at a loss. "I don't know what I can say or do. I want Clark to be happy but I just can't see how that's ever going to happen. He's never going to be normal."
"What is normal anyway?" Martha asked, sitting beside him.
"In Clark's world? Playing on the football team, having a girlfriend, or boy friend."
"He's smart, he's talented. He'll come around. He'll accept what he can and can't do."
"And what if he doesn't? What if I've just ruined it with my son? What if he never accepts his life?"
"I don't know, I don't know," Martha acknowledged. How did you deal with a gay alien super strong son who had just realised exactly how much of life would be denied to him?
"Well, if it's any consolation," she offered. "It's going to be very hard for him to kill himself."
"That's not funny."
"It wasn't meant to be. I was just trying to look on the bright side."
They looked at each other. They were in a mess.
"I wish there was some support group - just somebody we could go to for advice." Martha spoke wistfully.
"Yeah, that'd be nice," Jonathan agreed absently, still very much distressed that he'd reached that point of estrangement with Clark, that point where the boy becomes a man and no longer seeks his father's advice.