May 26, 2010

It's A Puzzle, Alright

There's a quote from Catherine early on in CSI that says something about how she got into the job because she likes solving puzzles. Well if you take that literally, that's what I just did.

Awhile ago my sister and brother-in-law sent me a holiday care package that included a CSI puzzle. But it was no ordinary puzzle. For one thing, the photo on the box is not the photo on the puzzle. For another, it comes with a crime booklet and a mini UV light. So basically you read the crime, assemble the puzzle to view the crime scene, and then use the UV light to search the crime scene for clues. At which point you solve the crime. Note: there is no solution given. Presumably this is because on CSI you just assemble the evidence to solve the puzzle but you never get to appeal to an answer book to find out if you're right or not. Life: it's just like a puzzle!

This is the puzzle mid-way through assembly. It took about a week to complete. Look, when you're working without a photo guide of any kind and the scene is set in a casino which features roughly thirty of the same slot machine and a repeating carpet pattern... you know, it's not easy.

And this is the finished puzzle. Awesome. Did I examine the crime scene with the UV light? You bet I did. Did I solve the crime? Hell yes! Ten years of CSI have at least taught me how to analyze basic evidence when it's laid the hell out in front of me.

Am I going to tell you what the UV light revealed and who did the deed? No. At least not here. If you want to know, you can ask me in the comments. I run a strictly no spoilers Crypt here. (*cough*The Titanic sinks*cough*)

So Torch and Seistor? Thank you. This was truly a great gift. They say you're supposed to give gifts for the recipient, not for yourself. A lot of people find that difficult. But this just proves that you guys, as always, understand the true beauty of gift-giving.

May 24, 2010

Because I'm Sick Of Hearing About The Other Finale

And because I adore Catherine and clearly it's a day ending in 'y'.

The return of the inappropriate-for-work outfits! Thank you, Wardrobe Gods.
Joanna Newsom and the Fairy Fingernails of Death

I can't stand Joanna Newsom.

Admittedly I'm not much of a hipster. I like what I like and I don't mind if it's not popular or if it is. If I hear something I like, I like it. I don't know too much about music except that life without it is exceptionally dull. I don't expend energy seeking out new artists or finding underground sounds. I'm more of a film buff than a music one.

But that disclaimer is ultimately pointless because my opinion is as valid as anybody else's and my opinion on the matter of Joanna Newsom is that she is more or less a hippie fairy grating her fingernails down a Renaissance Faire chalkboard in some tortuous previously undiscovered ring of hell.

Her music makes me want to kill things.

I like fairies. That's the weird twist to the tale. I really do enjoy fairies and the supernatural and folklore and I even wanted to play the harp when I was little and first starting out in a school band. (Actual conversation with my mother: Mom: What instrument do you want to play? Me: The harp. Mom: If you can afford it and carry it to school all by yourself, you can play the harp. I ended up playing the clarinet. Well, 'playing'. I don't think clarinets are meant to sound like geese on crack or cows with throat blockages. I might be wrong. I digress.) So on paper, in theory, all of these things that come together to create the person of Joanna Newsom would appear to be a winning combination. I should love her and her charming folkish harp music with her oddly discordant vocals.

But I do not.

I do not love her and her unbearably grating/plucking/cutesy 'music'.


In summary, if you like Joanna Newsom - and there are many of you, many many many of you - then good for you. But do not play her around me or prepare for the annihilation of all sense by me blasting Cher's 'Dark Lady' at ear-splitting volumes to drown out the twee adorableness of the tone-deaf fairy child and her harp.

/end rant