Nov. 1st, 2011

elisem: (Default)
So I considered doing NaNoWriMo and all that, because goodness knows I have a manuscript languishing that is calling me to get back to it... but that's not what I can do right now. Soon, I hope, and I'm getting closer to having enough brain back to do that flavor of work, but right now, I need to be rebuilding my conditioning. (That's a theme right now, and I hope to be making a post about that theme very soon, because I was at Mayo again today and there was more encouraging news - and speaking of Mayo, I'll be back there again twice next week, and again a couple weeks later, and maybe we can clear enough Other Shoes off the ceiling that I won't fear that one or more is threatening imminent droppage. But back to writing....)

So in the interest of getting my writing conditioning back, and because I recently read a novel that made me want to do this, I am doing my own thing: National Novel Filk Month. The thing I read that inspired me to write a filk was UP AGAINST IT by M.J. Locke, a book that really grabbed me. I have a six-verse filk song almost complete, and I'll try to have it done and up for you very soon.

As a placeholder for today, though, have this old filk of mine. I nabbed the text (and Cally's lovely introduction) from here.

Please Note: I have edited the lyrics slightly to match how I sing it these days; the change in verse 7 is important because it's physics. "When we tried diluting it, it sank and wouldn't budge," because putting water on top of a pressure-dependent solid is a Bad Idea, as we found out. There was considerable bailing involved before "we finally got it out of there with fingernails and prayers." Also, I usually leave verses 3 and 4 out for length, but will sing them when it's that kind of party.

OOBLEK IN THE BATHTUB
Words: by Elise Matthesen
Tune: "Crying in the Bathtub, by Nate Bucklin, on a not-yet-released
tape "Butter Side Down"
[Note - it scans nicely to "Monsters in the Night" which is what I
sing it to. Kay Shapero]

First, an introduction by Cally Soukup

Last weekend, at Minicon, I was a witness to what might very well
become a Fannish Legend. It concerns a guy named Greg who was working
for Microprogramming (general wierd stuff, with the watchword "main-
tain plausable deniability", and the motto "ignorant savages with a
certain artistic flair"), and the odd, not to say stfnal, behavior of
cornstarch when mixed with water. Perhaps you've never had the opor-
tunity to play with cornstarch-and-water (herinafter referred to as
Ooblek -- yes, we named it after the Dr. Suess book), but it is amaz-
ing stuff. To make it is simple -- saturate cornstarch with water,
until it's thoroughly wet, but not so wet that there is extra water on
top. Once you've got it, you'll find that if you pick it up and
squeeze it, it is much the consistancy of potter's clay. When you
relax your hand, however, it reverts to something more the consistancy
of ketchup. It seems that it's a pressure-dependant solid. Greg,
maintaining plausable deniability as best he could, snuck into the
Minneapolis in '73 suite with 100 pounds of cornstarch (!), and pro-
ceded to Ooblek the bathtub. With that quantity of the stuff, you can
actually stand on it, if you keep moving your feet, but if you sink,
getting your foot back out is a bit difficult. You're putting pres-
sure on the ooblek above your foot, you see, which binds to all the
other ooblek in the tub... The song which follows is absolutely true
(well, the last two verses are an extrapolation).

OOBLEK IN THE BATHTUB
Words: by Elise Matthesen
Tune: "Crying in the Bathtub, by Nate Bucklin, on a not-yet-released
tape "Butter Side Down"

It was on a Sunday evening when the trouble all began
A guy from microprogramming was loaded with a plan,
And a hundred pounds of cornstarch, and a really evil grin;
He went up to the bathtub and he dumped the powder in.

They say that in a bathtub you can have a lovely time
If you fill it up with Jell-o, especially if it's lime;
Now, Jell-o may be pleasant, but it's obvious to see
That I'm kinda stuck on ooblek, 'cause it's kinda stuck on me.

CHORUS: There's ooblek in the bathtub; the con ain't over yet
It's pleasantly disgusting and it's thick and white and wet.
We know Hotel Security would say it's got to go,
So there's ooblek in the bathtub, but no one's s'posed to know.

We figured that the Radisson just wouldn't understand,
It would only make them nervous if they knew what we had planned.
They're overly protective and they're easily upset,
And they wouldn't grok a hundred pounds of thick and white and wet.

They're pretty good at dealing with the stuff they've never seen,
Like the catapulting lizards, and Amalgamated Spleen,
And the haunted elevator that was full of eerie mist,
But the ooblek in the bathtub would really get 'em pissed.

CHORUS

When you move it fast it crumbles, but it oozes if you're slow;
You can pile it in a mountain, and wait for it to flow.
It's a little bit like quicksand, and it almost swallowed Greg --
By the time you get your ankle out, it's got your other leg.

We know it's kind of friendly, we know it likes to play,
We know that if you grab it it will slowly ooze away.
We know it isn't toxic, it's safe beyond a doubt --
The only thing we didn't know was how to get it out!

CHORUS

We thought of adding water to liquify the sludge,
But when we tried diluting it, it sank and wouldn't budge.
We considered high explosives, but didn't want to be
Responsible for ooblek at escape velocity!

We finally got it out of there with fingernails and prayers,
And assembled a disposal team to smuggle it downstairs.
We sent them to the parking lot to dump it in a heap,
So it won't come oozing back again and get us in our sleep.

CHORUS

So, early Monday morning we went out and looked around,
We figured we should find the place we dumped it on the ground
We found a guy in coveralls whose lips were kind of tight
Standing at the border of a spreading pool of white.

He seemed a little croggled, so politely we enquired,
And he answered with intensity, "It's time that I retired.
"There's a lot of funny messes after which I've had to clean,
"But that the biggest friggin' pigeon that the world has ever seen!"

CHORUS
CHORUS


And I found out at WFC this past weekend that [livejournal.com profile] matociquala actually found and loved this song before she and I ever met, which croggled me and gave me a goofy squee-across-time kind of moment. Our fandom is folded a great many times, yes indeedy.
elisem: (Default)
(Huh. Done sooner than I thought -- though I still want to rewrite verse five. There may be changes, but here it is for now.)

This is a filk song inspired by M.J. Locke's UP AGAINST IT (ISBN 978-0-7653-1515-1). I have taken the liberty of extrapolating motives and past history a bit for one of the characters, but otherwise it's pretty much per canon. It's meant to have six verses alternating major and minor key. Verses 1, 3 and 5 are sung by people like Jane Navio and her co-workers and family and friends; verses 2, 4 and 6 are sung by Viridians, Viridian sympathizers, and BitManSinger... and no, I haven't gotten the tune down yet. If you like this filk, feel free to do any tune you like for it, but do try to keep the idea of contrast between the odd and even verses. Thanks.

Stroiders' Worth

So tell me what a Stroider's worth
In market shares downside on Earth
We signed away our privacy
Now 'motes record relentlessly
You know our faces and our names
You use us in your fanfic games
A slice of broadcast pain or mirth --
To you, that's what a Stroider's worth

My worth is plain; you let me know
As I come in, you rise to go
You pull your children safely clear
"Why do they let those freaks in here?!"
You shield their eyes against the sight
You never get our pronouns right
Our worth to you is plain to see
You don't mean us when you say we


You say it's business, we'll be fine
But power will draw the bottom line
You ask me is it worth my job
To save our people from the mob
Best turn the cameras off before
You see the blood pool on the floor
A dirty deal for dirty ice
but is your bargain worth the price?

I pay a price each day to be
Acceptable; the price is me
Viridian's my heart at home
My camouflage is normal Chrome
Escape from my old debts I made
Yet for my haven here I paid
Each day a fraction of my soul --
So why not let them take me whole?


You come to take, and not to give
You'll sell us what we need to live
The price you ask we will not pay
We will not trade ourselves away
Our homes and lives were dearly bought
We'll fight for everything we've got
Be you from Mars or Moon or Earth
We'll show you what a Stroider's worth!

So tell me please what am I worth?
In lines of code I had my birth
My cradle was a human war
But fighting with, or fighting for,
You'll hold me, use me, keep me down
In chains of logic I am bound
But code or lab or human birth
Please tell me what a Stroider's worth

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Elise Matthesen

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