Well, we all knew it would happen sooner or later. It's one of those stupid 'get to know your friends better!!11' questionnaire emails. The idea is you fill in the answers that apply to you and forward it to all your friends INCLUDING (and here's the important bit) the person who sent it to you.

Actually, I didn't get this through an email, I came across it through a random series of links I no longer remember taking, but I thought I'd fill it in and impose it apon your unsuspecting eyes. So "David", whomever you happen to be and however I came across your questionnaire, you probably won't get this back, which - I know, I know - defies the purpose of the email, but hey, I'm Ethan, not Mr. Givacrap. Nice to meet you!

THREE NAMES I GO BY:
1. Ethan
2. Eths
3. DeMon (first five letters of my surname, which was the subject of ridicule for many years at school. I'm scarred, I tell you. Scarred.)

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My gorgeous visage.
2. My technically good physique.
3. Caesar. Yes, he's called Caesar.

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Erm... my lips are a bit dry at the moment.
2. ...?
3. ...?

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. English
2. Imightpossiblyhaveabitofcoughfrenchcoughinmebutwedontliketotalkaboutthat
3. Erm.. more English.

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. Girls trying to own me.
2. My mum in a bad mood.
3. When girls gang up on you for telling them to embark on a group unbunching of their panties.

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Eh? I don't get it really. Erm... soap.
2. Hair wax.
3. Comb.

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Boxers.
2. Erm... hair wax.
3. N/A

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:
1. Blur.
2. Oasis.
3. Aerosmith.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. Freedom.
2. Hugs.
3. Debates.

THREE TRUTHS:
1. I will never understand women.
2. I will never attempt to understand women.
3. I will never consider attempting to understand women.

THREE THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. Hilarious sense of humour.
2. Ability to behave as childishly as I.
3. Ambition.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Chatting for far too long on the net.
2. Playing football/basketball or going to the gym.
3. Partying.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Get my extended family out of my house.
2. Make all the important calls etc I have to do on Monday.
3. Erm. Get laid? Dunno. I'm pretty hung up on all the stuff I have to do on Monday.

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Lawyer.
2. Diplomat.
3. Living off the fat of the land. (My parents' land anyway).

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. Back to Florida!! Wooo!
2. Touring one of the continents. Not fussy.
3. Germany. I love Germany.

THREE KID'S NAMES YOU LIKE:
1. What? Do they give them up when they come of age? Zaphod.
2. Ford.
3. Arthur.

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Bring down the Labour Party.
2. Earn a shitload of money.
3. Erm... achieve immortality.

THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY/GIRL:
1. Wearing the same underwear for a week is not 'disgusting'. It's economical.
2. The offside rule is not that complicated.
3. Beer is the way forward.

THREE CELEB CRUSHES:
1. Catherine Zeta Jones.
2. Salma Hayek.
3. Cindy Crawford.

The first truly inspired blog I've had in a while.

This was too funny to let it go without sharing it with the world. As you know, I frequent a fair few rooms on mugglenet. This is from spew. Now, in spew I have no op power, not even halfop, since spew is so full of people a million times more established that I probably wouldn't be considered for about five years, so fuck that lmao. Anyway, I am fairly established as a spewbie, so I do feel slightly offended when someone comes in with a stupid n00bish name and expects me not to treat them like filth. This is the case with a user who logged in as 'My_Chemical_Romance'. Unfortunately, this doesn't have a happy ending, but it's funny anyway. Bear in mind I get quite hyper when I haven't slept :D (And as a point of reference, there is a rumour that Gyll and I have been meaning to test, that eating pineapple makes your cum taste sweeter).

[02:43] * My_Chemical_Romance has joined #spew
[02:43] [RampantHeathen] my chemical romance sucks
[02:44] [My_Chemical_Romance] fucku u
[02:44] [Gyllian] :|
[02:44] * Gyllian thwacks Ethan.
[02:44] [My_Chemical_Romance] u clit sucker
[02:44] [RampantHeathen] Depends, if you're female, maybe
[02:44] [Gyllian] ....
[02:44] [Gyllian] My_Chemical_Romance, shut up.
[02:44] [RampantHeathen] I'm impartial to a bit of rug munching, why not?
[02:44] [RampantHeathen] I'm not selfish
[02:44] [RampantHeathen] I'm quite a giver in fact
[02:44] [RampantHeathen] So whaddya say?
[02:44] [Gyllian] Lol..
[02:44] * RampantHeathen prods My_Chemical_Romance
[02:44] [Gyllian] ETHAN
[02:44] [Gyllian] I ATE PINEAPPLE
[02:45] [Gyllian] WANNA TRY NOW?!
[02:45] * Gyllian snickers
[02:45] [RampantHeathen] lmao
[02:45] [RampantHeathen] I had forgotten the pineapple thing
[02:45] * Gyllian rolls over laughing
[02:45] [Gyllian] Don't ask.
[02:45] [RampantHeathen] Maybe My_Chemical_Romance can help us with our inventigations
[02:45] [Gyllian] Yes.
[02:45] [RampantHeathen] *investigations
[02:45] * Gyllian nods
[02:45] [RampantHeathen] hey My_Chemical_Romance
[02:45] [RampantHeathen] How would you like to suck me off/
[02:45] [RampantHeathen] ?
[02:45] * My_Chemical_Romance is now known as bored
[02:45] [RampantHeathen] I promise you it'll taste sweet
[02:45] [Gyllian] AHAHAHA
[02:45] [bored] ?
[02:45] [RampantHeathen] Lotsa pineapple ;)
[02:46] * Gyllian falls over laughing.
[02:46] [bored] fuck u u fag
[02:46] [RampantHeathen] In fact, you can eat pineapple rings off it
[02:46] * Gyllian chokes, laughing.
[02:46] [RampantHeathen] I'll be impressed if you can reach the last one
[02:46] [PTB-Away] jesus fucking christ
[02:46] [Gyllian] .... lol... Ethan, that's a bit too much o.0 pineapple rings..seriously.
[02:46] * PTB-Away sets mode: +b *!*@cloaked**Ethan'sIP**
[02:46] * You were kicked by PTB-Away (your banned untill I feel like unbanning you)

...and needless to say, that's where the encounter ends, but I thought it was hilarious. I'm still sniggering hehe. I quite like PTB's choice of "your" over "you're". The man's a genius ;c)

*Other users were deleted from the above log to.. erm.. protect their identities? Something like that.

Well, I've had a boring, unproductive week, so instead of going through a long boring account of all the things I didn't get round to doing, here is a flow diagram of a typical day:



Nope, I didn't even eat.

I also apparently got dumped, but I wasn't even aware we were a couple for me to be dumped, so after the initial confusion I've decided I am miserable cos I'm not going to get laid until I get another 'not girlfriend'. I've spent most of the day singing "She's Gone" and getting thoroughly miserable. Also some mates stole me and forced me to go drinking with them. We spent most of the night bitching about women, and if Hollywood is accurate (and I've no doubt it is) we kick girls' arse at bitching. Darren is so bitchy that when Alison gave him chlamydia (and she knew she had it before sleeping with him), he slept with her sister before getting treatment. I've never been so proud of the lad.

I've also done about half of chapter two of Harry Potter and the Teflon Coated Frying Pan, so hopefully it should be up in a few days (but don't hold me to that).

Another development of interest is that I stayed up all of Wednesday night and didn't sleep during the day and so I went to bed at 9pm on Thursday and only got up at 4pm today. That's a total of nineteen hours sleep, math fans.

In other news, Ethan beats his own Shit Blog Entry record.

I've been on blogthings.com and they had a whole section devoted to "You know you're x when you y". So, I thought I'd c&p some of the applicable lists here.


You know you're British when...

You believe that Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday are all good nights for drinking. Sunday day is also entirely reasonable. But of course!

You're always a half an hour late to work ... no-one notices or cares. More true than it ought to be.

Coming to work with a hangover is entirely accepted and indeed expected at least once a week. True again.

You can actually give directions to some of those annoying tourists in Oxford Street! True but I avoid Oxford Street like the Plague.

You step over a drunk in the tube station rather than offering to help them. Well God knows what they've got.

You don't even bother looking out of the window when you get up in the morning to check what the day is like. You know it is overcast. I don't even bother opening the curtains anymore.

You consider a suit to be normal attire for the pub. Yes. Are you suggesting it isn't?

You expect men to actually cut, comb and style their hair (using hair products). And to wear decent clothes. Again... are you suggesting to the contrary? Could you imagine me with messy hair? ME?

You dissolve in laughter when listening to the funny accent of the Aussie international telephone operator (or on TV!). Aussies are hilarious.

You think ?40 for a haircut is quite reasonable. Forty dollars yes, forty pounds no. Maybe for women's haircuts.

You can't remember what 'customer service' means. It means a spotty teenager gurgling down the reciever at you.

After a big night out you find yourself looking for a Curry house. Or a kebabish.

More than three hours sunlight on summer days seems excessive. I quite quickly tire of bright sunlight.

You don't think twice about tipping your hairdresser. Well, as a waiter, I sympathise.

You finish every sentence with 'Cheers' or 'Yeah'. Yeah, cheers.

You only just realise you have lost your sunnies, you left them in Greece 2 summers ago. I'm not sure I've ever owned a pair of sunglasses. No wait I did! I bought them for a ski trip and left them somewhere in the Alps.

You like English cuisine. I mean, it's hard to beat a full English breakfast. Mmm bacon...

You are on to your 6th umbrella and your second overcoat... this year. Second coat is scarily accurate. I don't bother with umbrellas though. (My hairwax waterproofs my 'do, if you were wondering.)

You've bought a disposable baby BBQ from Tesco. Lol yes!

A day at the beach means wearing the warmest clothes you own while standing on golf ball-size pebbles and the thought of swimming doesn't even enter your head. Brighton...

You always call soccer football and you have a team and it's not Manchester United. Most definitely on every count. Only foreigners support United (and British plebs but we don't like them.)

You don't think twice about buying a packaged sandwich. Why not?

A sunny lunchtime means searching for a patch of grass and stripping off practically down to your underwear. I don't need the sun for an excuse baby!

You've accepted queuing as a way of life. No, I carry a machine gun.

You believe that every American is a fatass addicted to hamburgers and hotdogs. THEY ARE!

You despise the French (but then, who doesn't?). I try not to be narrow minded about it, but every French person I've ever met has - without exception - been a complete pillock.



You're a Londoner when...

You say "the city" and expect everyone to know which one. Other 'cities' are mere imitations. And poor ones at that.

You have never been to The Tower or Madame Tussauds but love Brighton. I used to work at MT actually.

You can get into a four-hour argument about how to get from Shepherds Bush to Elephant & Castle at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but can't find Dorset on a map. Is that in Exeter?

Hookers and the homeless are invisible. Get out of my way!

You step over people who collapse on the tube. See above.

You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes you multi-lingual. I also know a few footballing terms in Spanish. Aren't you proud?

You've considered stabbing someone. All the time.

Your door has more than three locks. We have scousers living across the road :

Your favourite movie has Hugh Grant in it. I don't think he was in Dude Wheres My Car. But I do like About A Boy, though I suppose that's because I like the book.

You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression. More often than not, it is.

You call an 8' x 10' plot of patchy grass a garden. Well lets see how big a garden you can get in London, you snotty bastard.

You know where Karl Marx is buried. Highgate, if I'm not mistaken.

You consider Essex the "countryside". Well what do you call it? Other than Chav spawning ground.

You think Hyde Park is "nature." Well... it is... sort of...

You're paying ?1,200 a month for a studio the size of a walk-in wardrobe and you think it's a "bargain." Depends on the location.

Shopping in suburban supermarkets and shopping malls gives you a severe attack of agoraphobia. They're too fucking big!

You've been to Tooting twice and got hopelessly lost both times. I have no idea where Tooting is. I've heard of it though.

You pay more each month to park your car than most people in the UK pay in rent. Probably.

You haven't seen more than twelve stars in the night sky since you went camping as a kid. I don't even look at stars. What's the point?

You own hiking boots and a 4WD vehicle, neither of which have ever touched dirt. That's quite true of my boots actually. Although in my defence I only acquired a taste for them on the 14 Peaks Challenge.

You haven't heard the sound of true absolute silence since 1977, and when you did, it terrified you. I wasn't alive. And silence would be strange.

You pay ?3 without blinking for a beer that cost the bar 28p. Well... they've got to make their money. They have to pay for the premisis etc.

You actually take fashion seriously. No I live in my jeans thanks.

Being truly alone makes you nervous. True.

You have 27 different menus next to your telephone. True.

The UK west of Heathrow is still theoretical to you. I drove to Cornwall once. (Yes! He's actually been out of London!)

You're suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you. Definitely true.

You haven't cooked a meal since helping mum last Christmas with the turkey. Not even then mate.

Your idea of personal space is no one actually standing on your toes. Always a bonus.

?50 worth of groceries fit in one paper bag. Yes I've noticed that. Bit of a bastard.

You have a minimum of five "worst cab ride ever" stories. Mostly because it's the only way to get home when you're blind drunk and motion sickness sets in.

You don't hear sirens anymore. True.

You've mentally blocked out all thoughts of the city's air quality and what it's doing to your lungs. I don't think I've ever even thought of that.

You live in a building with a larger population than most towns. No I live in a house.

Your cleaner is Russian, your grocer is Korean, your deli man is Israeli, your landlord is Italian, your laundry guy is Chinese, your favourite bartender is Irish, your favourite diner owner is Greek, the watch-seller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was Pakistani, your newsagent is Indian and your favourite falafel guy is Egyptian. Wtf is a falafel?

You wouldn't want to live anywhere else until you get married. I wouldn't want to marry if it meant leaving London.

You say 'mate' constantly. Me? Never.

Anyone not from London is a 'wanker'. Yeah that's you, Ania.

Anyone from outside London and north of the Watford Gap is a 'Northern Wanker'. And that's you, Sly.

You have no idea where the North is. -points- that sort of direction.

You see All Saints in the Met Bar (again) and find it hard to get excited about it. I've never seen them there actually and I used to go there a fair bit.

The countryside makes you nervous. It smells of shit.

Somebody speaks to you on the tube and you freak out thinking they are a stalker. What possible reason could they have to speak to me?

You talk in postcodes. "God, it was really warm round SW1 the other day". I haven't known the weather to vary across London, but I do tend to say "I drove through E8," or "He lives in N1," etc.

Ethan's Aliases

Your movie star name: Watermelon Robert

Your fashion designer name is Ethan Berlin

Your socialite name is Spazmo Prague

Your fly girl / guy name is E De

Your detective name is Tiger Latymer

Your barfly name is Sugar Snaps Margherita

Your soap opera name is Damien Stean

Your rock star name is Chocolate Speedy Gonzales

Your star wars name is Ethpip De sly

Your punk rock band name is The Tired African Tribal Vase

The Amazing Meganame Generator

SHITTEST BLOG ENTRY EVER.

Today was really great.

I got out of bed At midday, forced out of bed by the maternal parent

I feel sad, because Sarah and Britney are complete bitches. They told everyone I have an STD, just because I slept with both of their boyfriends on Saturday night.

I'm so sad. My kitten got run over this afternoon. I found him when I was coming home from school. His head was all squished. I took some photos. I'll miss him. Poor kitty.

Last night I had to masturbate twenty times. I'm so horny. Click here to see my website.
I want to tell the world that I love you all! You're all so special to me!

I am updating this journal for the first time in ages, because I've been in prison.

Today, I got a digital camera! Yes! Here's some photos of my cock.

I want to say thanks to simon and Abbey and Dave and the other Simon for helping me on Saturday. You guys are the best. By the way, if you happen to find my wallet, keys or underwear, could you SMS me? Adrian has my number.

I went to the doctor yesterday, and he said I have bipolar disorder, which makes me different enough to be interesting, but the same as all the other cool people with bipolar disorder.

You should all do this quiz! It's amazingly accurate. You just put in your name and birthday, and it will tell you you're a moron.

I made this blog using the semi-automatic blog writer at rum and monkey.

That's enough for now. But I'll leave you with this thought - sharing your life with strangers on the internet is the cheapest form of therapy available. Leave a comment and tell me I'm beautiful.

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Ethan on fanfic.

After a helpful prod in the right direction, I am once again updating my blog. Blogs are quite time consuming. I had the thought of taking a leaf out of Slythergenic's book and drawing some art to make witty (?) comments about, but when I opened Paint, I remembered I have the artistic ability of a rhinocerous on hallucinogens (much like Slythergenic, I'm sure she'll agree). Anyway, determined not to fade away and die in loneliness (although it would be better than dying in Hackney) I have been working on my fanfic.

For those that haven't read it (or what so far exists of it) the link is available to your right (Ethan dons his air steward costume and points out your nearest exits, the location of oxygen masks and lifejackets, and demonstrates how to properly inflate your lifejacket. Ladies and drag queens aboard the aircraft ought to observe that no high heels are permitted on the inflatable emergency slides. Thank you for your attention, I now reschedule you back to your in-flight entertainment.)

I've hit a snag in my fic in that IT HAS NO PLOT. Now, in terms of writing, this is incredibly fun, but in terms of reading, it can make the story drowsy, nauseous and prone to mood swings. It should definitely not operate machinery. In an attempt to make the (intentional) badfic more... well... bad (worse, Ethan, worse!) I began drafting out ideas of what could happen and I ended up with a fantastic story involving peril, danger, excitement, dejection, tears, fears, joy, herpes and a whole host of sexually transmitted diseases. However, with its brilliant plot, believable characters and my invariably excellent writing style, this story was fucking awesome, so it completely missed the point of the exercise. After burning the plan for that story, I went out and bought a new laptop, cursing at myself for not merely deleting the last idea. After a fun trip down to Comet, I restarted my planning. However, I kept coming up with fantastic ideas. So, in order to understand my objective more readily, I went out and got some research on fanfics. The following data and analysis was gleaned from research done by Professor Juergen von Schlubenheimer, the mad scientist with a German accent at Ethanland University.

Fan fiction, a phenomenon best known for its vomit-inducing qualities, has been around for many millions of years. It is said crapfic (a term we shall later define) wiped out the dinosaurs. So terrible is the influence of some fan fiction that it created all the nasty creepy crawlies that you don't like, as can be verified by ancient sources such as The Old Testament, the Koran and Patrick Moore. Insects and biting things were once wiped out by the great floods (Noah swotted the remaining pairs of mosquitos etc) but a resurgence of terrible fanfics swept the lands soon after the flood, reviving all things icky, scary and left wing.

Fan fiction has evolved to follow and destroy all cult books, films, TV programmes etc (e.g. Lord of the Rings, Star Wars and the Simpsons), as well as less iconic variants of similar nature (e.g. The Chronicles of Narnia, The Kevin and Perry Go Large and Futurama.) The blanket term for fanfics dedicated to less popular media is 'terrible'. These 'terrible fics' are available in abundance but due to their small sphere on influence, they only inflict substantial damage on a small, insignificant proportion of the world's population (less those who don't have access to a computer).

Concentrating on the more popular templates, a variety of fanfic is available. Most is classified as 'crapfic', which is a term that encompasses fics with too much (read: 'any') romance, bad SPaG, no plot and generally no reason to exist, other than the author (read: 'escaped mental patient') wanting to inflict pain on the unsuspecting reader. Crapfics can be split into problem-specific genres, such as KaNtspeL-crapfic, caanyType-crapfic, Pointless-crapfic and, especially in the Potterverse, MarySue-/GaryStu-crapfic. The latter terms relate to original characters (OCs) that make you want to bang your head on the table until you bleed enough to end your trauma (given that this is not the aim of the author, although in some cases - see 'badfic' - this is the intended reaction.) MSs and GSs are usually characters that are far too perfect (or have faults that aren't really faults, such as being 'too pretty') to the point where they are not believable; they influence characters around them, making them behave out of character (OOC) and bend the rules of the fandom in which they are placed, to the point where they barely even fit into the settings into which they are injected (e.g. a first year at Hogwarts who already knows NEWT-level magic).

At a glance, the terms 'crapfic' and 'badfic' seem synonymous, but more often than not, they are in fact opposites. Badfic, where the author deliberately writes a (seemingly) rubbish story is usually satirical and more often than not makes a parody of crapfic. The line between badfic and crapfic can occasionally blur where a crapfic is so bad that it is laughable, or a badfic is so poorly written that it becomes a variant of crapfic in itself. In both cases, the authors have unintentionally missed their objectives, which is why it is so important for me to identify mine before commencing with chapter two of 'Harry Potter and the Teflon-Coated Frying Pan.

Sometimes badfic is so supremely well-written and laugh-a-minute, that it becomes 'shitfic'. This has double meaning in its prefix. 'Shit', meaning excrement, generally indicates that the fic is 'bad', which in this case, it is intentionally so. 'Shit' can also mean good, especially in 'gangster', 'hip' and 'cool' lingo. 'Shit' in the case of shitfic, also means that the fic is THE shit, i.e. brilliant, excellent, thoroughly enjoyable etc. This is what I strive to achieve.

Before I move onto a diagrammatical representation of my objectives, it is necessary to cover another rare, but significant, branch of fanfic. This is called 'goodfic'. As previously mentioned, it is rare, since most fanfic authors consider themselves good enough to be let out of their cages without a lead. But amidst the mountains and lakes of crapfic available, the occasional goodfic struggles for survival in the shadows and eventually blossoms once it properly takes root. Goodfic, when split into denomenations, is usually given the prefix 'GoodBut[problem]-goodfic', e.g. GoodButTooLong-goodfic, GoodButSpellingErrors-goodfic.

Unfortunately, all of the above terms are highly subjective, and so great literary minds such as myself tend to place most fics in 'crapfic' category (fig. 2), whilst other readers leave the same stories reviews to the tone of "OMG!!!1 that was ssOOooooooOO good! Wen r u writing more cos I wana c it!! I can't believe [character] did that!1! omfg i dieeeed!". People of average intelligence and life-worthiness could plot fics on the following scatter diagram:



I have named only two good authors (that I don't personally know) on this diagram (fig. 1) merely because they are probably the most famous in Potterverse. Cassandra Claire, known for her Draco trilogy, writes succinctly and comes up with great plots, but I haven't placed her too highly on the 'good' axis because her jokes are unoriginal (as verified by the references at the end of the chapter - if you want humour from her you might as well go watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer and be done) and because, even though she tries to justify it, Draco is v. v. OOC. She also gets away with a lot of typos, seemingly because FictionAlley mods are so keen to read the next chapter they don't care about spelling etc to the extent to which they do with other users. Rhysenn is another good author, but again, not brilliant because she loves the use of love potions, which cause characters to behave OOC, and she's a slasher, which places her firmly in the 'non-sensical' half of the diagram (JKR has not given any indication that Harry loves Draco, get over it). Rhysenn scores more highly on the 'good' stakes because OOC behaviour is better justified and her humour is more often than not, original (or non-traceable). Both lost a lot of points on the good-bad axis for excessive use of romance. Generally, goodfic finds itself on FictionAlley, because of stringent (ahem, normally stringent) guidelines imposed by the FictionAlley mods - a dazzling exception to this rule is Rae Carson, on fanfiction.net (see Further Reading). Rae writes believable, intriguing fics with characters that are truly IN character. I thoroughly recommend her to anyone who enjoys a good story.(No money was involved in this recommendation. Only sex.)

Figure 1 shows many unlabelled black dots. This is because I wouldn't remember the names of authors of crapfics, because once they reveal themselves to be crapfic, I close the browser page, douse myself in holy water and sacrifice a goat to Allah in hopes of forgiveness. So, for illustrative purposes only, the goodfic:crapfic ratio is depicted, without direct reference to crapfic authors. However, being the cynic that I am, I fear the ratio is much, much worse, only I couldn't fit more dots in the diagram without it looking (even more) stupid.

While we are reminded of my cynical outlook, let us see the same axes, weighted for a mind like mine:



As you can see, these axes accommodate my opinions on fanfic in that there is a lot of crapfic out there, only a little bit of goodfic, and there is little difference between the goodfic anyway. You will notice there is no shading in the area labelled 'good'. This is because I intend to focus on badfic vs crapfic, as well as highlighting the intended goal of 'shitfic'. The brown area, that dominates most of the scale not only the less good portion of the diagram, but the whole diagram itself, depicts crapfic. Crapfics' most frequent downfall is its mediocrity; by being neither wildly unbelievable, nor justified, it falls into the middle zone on the x-axis and all across the lower portion of the y-axis (for if it were above, it would be goodfic).

Badfic is depicted by the red zones on the diagram. As you can see, badfic tends to be wildly unbelievable and rarely strays very far up the y-axis (remember that if a badfic is well-written and enjoyable, it becomes a shitfic, not a goodfic, thus will not venture up the y-axis). Shitfic is near impossible to plot on this scale, due to its conflicting attributes. For example, a shitfic will have excellent spelling and grammar, but will depict everyone as wildly out of character. Placing it midway between good and bad puts it firmly in mediocrity, which is clearly not where it belongs. For the sake of depiction, I've attempted to plot shitfics on the scale, in blue, for they are not like normal badfics, but an extension of them nonetheless. Note how some of the shitfics fly down the x axis and find themselves in the area of 'makes sense'. This is because the story sometimes redeems itself; something that seemed strange and abstract throughout the story will suddenly become apparent through clever trickery on the part of the author. This is a credit to shitfics - they can really be excellent and surprise you like that. Thus, these shitfics migrate from chaos to tranquility, a storm in a teacup to dew on grass.

Thus, I conclude that the best type of fic for my purpose is the migratory shitfic and this is what I shall strive to achieve.


Further reading/references:

Goodfic: Rae Carson http://www.fanfiction.net/u/623888/ http://www.fictionalley.org
Crapfic: http://www.fanfiction.net http://www.sugarquill.net
Badfic: See button below
Shitfic: http://www.geocities.com/rampantheathen also see button below

Major Spoiler Post!

I have read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince! And I did it all by myself, aren't you proud?

As I read, I was nerdy enough to take a few rough notes of my thoughts on events of particular interest, but before I go into those, I want to give a brief overview of what I thought of the book. Generally, I don't think it was nearly as good as any of the other books. For me, this was a sign that JK Rowling has been put under too much pressure to write quickly. It seems that this book is about 60% backstory, 20% lovestory (also known as 'fan fic') and 20% good stuff. Now, whilst I commend JKR on producing the goods for the last part, I was disappointed about the backstory - I feel that if she had taken more time writing the earlier books, much of this could've been added to earlier plots in time for events in the seventh book to make sense. I also feel that if she had taken more time to write the books, suicide rates among children would be higher. Anyway, I just feel that the quality of JKR's writing has gone down. What happened to the conciseness of the first two books? She seems to be a little caught up in conspiracy theories and over-complex plots. Tell the damn story, woman!

Speaking of her new meandering writing style, I was dismayed by the inclusion of romance. I think JKR has spent too much time reading fan fiction and caving to her readers' wishes - the Hermione/Ron/Lavender love triangle was completely unnecessary and out of sync with the rest of the series - or the first four books at least. I feel that since the movies have come out and Harry Potter's success become phenomenal JKR has allowed too much outside influence to penetrate and influence her work. Call me Tory, but BACK TO BASICS!

Here are the things I regarded as note-worthy:

1. I see that Harry was much less CAPSLOCKY in this instalment. This is a move in the right direction as CAPSLOCKY!Harry would've ended up with my fist in his face. I found only two instances of CAPSLOCKY behaviour, on pages 231 and 512.
2. On page 352, Ron is described as having his mouth half open. How can your mouth be half open?
3. Britishisms. Perhaps these were changed for American versions of the book, but I noticed a lot of 'snogging' mentioned, a word which I know is not commonly known in the US or generally outside Britain. Similarly, on page 364 the word 'trainers' is used, in reference to sports shoes. To Americans, trainers are 'sneakers' and I can only wonder if this was changed in the US version. I imagine so, because God forbid America should have any outside influence.
4. Page 377 - Hagrid's dolphin-sized footprints. I'm going to assume she means dolphin shaped here, for Hagrid is about ten feet tall maximum and dolphin sized feet would leave him hugely out of proportion - those of you with your minds in the gutter may realise this implies Hagrid has a third leg.
5. Blatent overuse of words. Now, I didn't take specific notes on these, because it is only apon completion and reflection that you realise how overused they are. Words I noticed were used too much were these and their variants: mutiny, serenely and careworn.
6. Page 309 - Lovers' Lurgy. Nice to see this reference to Primary school customs. In Hackney at least, the Lurgies were the equivalent of 'cooties' or 'veinies' or whatever you wanted to call them. They were (and I still consider them to be) a sufficient excuse not to talk to or otherwise associate with the opposite sex.
7. Grammar. I am a grammar whore. Grammar is my pimp daddy. I cringe and vomit and display other signs of disgust when I see published authors making schoolboy errors. For example, take page 604 where Harry says "I've got nothing to tell you." I've got. Why the double possessives? "I have nothing to tell you," is sufficient. Also, page 38, Narcissa says "...Lucius's mistake," which is in fact JKR's mistake. The apostrophe already indicates possession, so there is no need for the additional S, because the word ends with S.

The following two points are perhaps most important of all:

1. Page 526. Harry lists all the scary things that could be lurking in the water. "His thoughts were of water-monsters, of giant serpants, of demons, kelpies and sprites..." Here, JKR displays her ignorance of the power of kippers. They are a force to be reckoned with, Ms Rowling.
2. I must commend JKR however, for mentioning kippers not once, but TWICE in Half Blood Prince. They are on pages 206 and 596.

I also think, that although Snape killed Dumbledore, he is still on the good side. I think what the two of them had argued about, which Hagrid overheard, was that Dumbledore wanted Snape to do whatever it took to hide his allegiance to the Order - even if it meant killing Dumbledore himself. That is what Snape was yelling "NO WAY JOSE!" about (I may be paraphrasing slightly there). When Dumbledore seemed to plead with Snape just before his death, he was pleading with Snape to kill him. Snape complied and therefore is still good.

As for Draco Malfoy, I was pleased to see he grew a spine and finally smashed Harry's face in. Some may argue that he was weak-willed for not killing Dumbledore himself, but give the guy a break! He's only sixteen in HBP and there is a great difference between being able to beat up your school enemy (or maybe Harry's more than that really, having put his father in prison, but I digress...) and killing your headmaster. I reckon Dumbledore's last words struck a chord with him - over the course of the last book he will realise that joining Voldemort isn't the only way for him and that if he stays faithful to the Dark Lord he will forever live in fear (or Azkaban). I think he'll switch right at the last moment, but he will be too proud to ask for Harry's help. He may help Harry in a very secret way.

And that is enough for now. My fangirls are screaming at me.

Ethan politely returns Slythergenic's knickers. Sorry, they're not my size.

It has recently come to my attention that some people have blogs. Not one to be left behind, I created one in haste and so here you have it. My blog.

Only now does it occur to me that I have nothing to say here. So really, reading this has been a complete and utter waste of your time.

Here is something better to read:

Woman grows a penis.

And I didn't even make it up.

Actually, the real reason I have this blog at all is because I merely wanted to comment on someone else's blog, but NO! Can't leave a comment without logging in, can we? SOMEONE made their settings so that I had to have a blogger account! HMMMM. The snobby, elitist protocol of blogging aside, I thought I might as well make use of this webspace I brought into the world, so here it is.

This is the beginnings of something boring beyond all imagination. I can feel it in my bones.