Guardian: fanfic: The Cat is a Liar

Feb. 17th, 2019 09:14 pm
teaotter: a dark haired woman in sunlight (Default)
[personal profile] teaotter posting in [community profile] fan_flashworks
Title: The Cat is a Liar
Fandom: Guardian
Words: ~500
Content notes: flashfic, abrupt ending, pining; takes place more or less during Episode 11

Summary: "Either get over him or go talk to him; doesn't matter to me which," Da Qing says. "But you've got to take better care of me."



Notes: I am incredibly nervous about this one. It was supposed to be a drabble but got away from me; it really ought to have another thousand words, but I don't have the time to write it before the end of this round. And I'm still figuring out how names go in this fandom... So.

Also for the prompt: The Lost Hour on my bingo card. Also also, the title comes from a recent social media post about cats who howl to be let into places they don't actually live.

Read more... )

The Friday Five's Life in Food

Feb. 17th, 2019 09:58 pm
magnetic_pole: (Default)
[personal profile] magnetic_pole
Full disclosure: embarrassingly, I do very little cooking and only a bit of the shopping for our household. R loves cooking and shopping and is very territorial in the kitchen, so that's fine with her, but everyone once in a while I realize I'm like a 1950s breadwinner, arriving home just in time for R to put a dish on the table for me. I do try to do my fair share in other ways.

1. Do you make up a dinner plan for the coming week?
Not usually. We usually plan my lunches and even make them ahead of time because it's bit of a push getting me out of the house in the morning, but dinners are more freeform.

2. Do you make up a shopping list and stick to it when shopping?
Yup. Lists are crucial--otherwise I'll forget. Every once in a while I'll realize I have more time than expected and can make a detour to one of the grocery stores, but even then I'll make up a mental list en route. I stick to the list so faithfully that sometimes I'll be wandering down an aisle in the store and realize I wasn't even aware the store sold these things. I'm not a browser. R hates shopping with me--she goes aisle by aisle, looking at everything.

3. What is one thing that you always buy, but never put down on a list?
Everything's got to go on the list! Oh my word, I have a list of everything, including the things I need to check before walking out the door to make sure I don't lock myself out / get caught with no money / have matching shoes on. (Seriously. I double check because I have two similar pairs of brown shoes I've been wearing recently, and one day I realized I'd mismatched them.)

4. Is there anything that you always think you are out of and come home with it to discover you already have a year’s supply on hand?
Not really, but we do get various Asian supplies in the mail from R's mother, unsolicited, and we have enough Chinese sausages to make fried rice for the rest of our lives. Mostly R's mother just wants to stay in touch, and who can argue with getting care packages of food? But the refrigerator is just stuffed with lap cheung. (sp?)

5. Do you get your groceries delivered?
Not the usual groceries, but we do get a box of produce seconds every other weekend. It's super exciting to get surprise veggies that you didn't have to carry home.

What's the most unusual shopping or cooking habit you have, flist?

You can see see both the questions and folks' responses over at [community profile] thefridayfive.

[domesticity] Moving Further Along

Feb. 17th, 2019 09:17 pm
siderea: (Default)
[personal profile] siderea
Ow. I am very stiff and sore from being very out of shape and doing a lot of shlepping.

I hit up Target for some necessaries late-ish Saturday night - the new one in Porter Square – and decided to take the stuff directly back to the new apartment, so I could find out what it's like at midnight.

I lied on the floor. I didn't detect any vibrations.

The sound isolation between apartments seems very good. The sound isolation between building and the outside seems not so good – that is the windows aren't so great at sealing out sound. My window isn't right on MassAve, but the sound of traffic on MassAve through my window was loud enough to make me think, "Oh, hey, I should shut the window", but the window wasn't open.

The heat is steam heat, and it is abundant and very clangy. I have earplugs, so I assume this, and passing traffic, won't be an issue.

The hot water is very hot, and also abundant.

Today (Sunday), [personal profile] tn3270 and I drove over a load of fragile stuff that can be put away, out of the way of movers, in the kitchen and the closets. So my booze, and my glassware, and my fancy dress clothes are all now moved in. Am now ready to party. I also brought over all the outerwear I'm not currently using (the spring and autumn weight stuff mostly and my summer sun hats, and my back-up winter coat) and populated the coat closet.

Getting my formal-wear and outerwear out of the closet under the water heater that's overdue to blow is a relief. I still have stuff in there to wisk away to safety, but... soon. Not right now. Were I not so sore, I would be tempted to call a cab and take a second load over tonight.

But I think I'm rapidly approaching the point – like maybe one car load more – where everything left is either something I will need here until the day of the move, or it is something that requires the rugs or the furniture to be there already to go on top of or in, or will be in the way of movers and so should go in the truck.

TWiM, Issue 13: February 17, 2019

Feb. 17th, 2019 03:08 pm
thisweekmod: (Default)
[personal profile] thisweekmod posting in [community profile] thisweekmeta

A mini issue today!


Abigail Nussbaum posted It's Easy to Be a Saint in Paradise: Thoughts on The Good Place's Third Season: "All of which is to say that it can be a bit intimidating to express criticism or skepticism about The Good Place's worldbuilding, because odds are that your reaction is the point, all the way back to "wait, the afterlife in this show doesn't make any sense" in the first season. Nevertheless, I find myself troubled by some of the conclusions the show reaches in its third season and where it proceeds from them."

Clare McBride for SyFy Wire posted How genre has failed and served queer representation: "It’s been a slow, uphill progression for queer representation in genre literature. Genre television and genre film lag a little behind genre literature, but we have more options than ever. But the very variety we have lays bare the two major problems facing queer representation in genre fiction: the limitations of metaphor and the limitations of accessibility."

[tumblr.com profile] itsladykit posted Have you ever changed the direction of a fic you were writing based off of audience reaction to a part?: "Accepting criticism from trusted sources is an important part of the creative process, especially when producing a commercial product. But the key phrase there would be “trusted sources”."


[community profile] thisweekmeta collects links of fandom meta and discussions from all over the web, and welcomes submissions from readers. If you know of an excellent fandom discussion post that we've missed, whether new or old, please feel free to leave a comment on this newest issue or email the editor.

The FAQ can be found here, and our editorial guidelines can be found here. Questions, concerns, and feedback are all welcomed.

Culinary

Feb. 17th, 2019 08:25 pm
oursin: Frontispiece from C17th household manual (Accomplisht Lady)
[personal profile] oursin

Bread made during week: Greenstein's Psomi Loaf, with toasted sesame seeds - mmmmmm.

Saturday breakfast rolls: the adaptable soft rolls recipe, 2:2:1 strong white/wholemeal/buckwheat flour, + dried cranberries.

Today's lunch: a fillet of wild Alaskan sockeye salmon, wrapped over a stuffing of breadcrumbs tossed in melted butter and lemon juice with zest of lemon, salt, pepper and dill, and baked under foil in a moderate oven, served with baby rainbow carrots roasted in goosefat (I am not sure this really adds much to them), garlic roasted kalettes (I fear their season must nearly be over, wah-wah-woh-woh), and padron peppers.

Consumption

Feb. 17th, 2019 08:31 pm
kaberett: Trans symbol with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
[personal profile] kaberett
Reading. I finished Predators' Gold! It did not redeem itself, to my tastes. I then proceeded to have a bit of a tailspin about "do I object to fiction that portrays people doing bad things without getting 'adequately' punished or without it getting called out in the text? am I secretly an anti?" but the answer is, on reflection, no -- I don't think it's Immoral Art That Should Be Banned, it's just that I've got a very long reading list including a bunch of books I am actually excited (rather than cross) about, and I abruptly Really Don't Care about these characters enough to invest any more time in them at all whatsoever. Meanwhile, I have not been reading much because reasons, but Dreams from My Father reappeared from the library so I'm working slowly on that. Also I finally scraped together the brain to read the most recent shortfic associated with your blue-eyed boys ("shortfic": one of them was 23k words), which was immensely soothing.

Growth. I went to the allotment today! The fennel died back a lot in the frosts but I'm hopeful that 1. it will continue turning into food (it's putting forth new feathery growth) and 2. some if it will get as far as making seeds. I pulled up all the teasels and got as many of them as I could before the cheap shitty secateurs broke, so those are in a neat pile, and did a very little hand-weeding. Happily, though, the combination of manure + weed-suppressant takeaway pizza boxes + wood chip meant that there was really very little weeding as needed done, which impressed me. Spinach is coming along nicely but probably needs thinning (and eating); to my surprise a nontrivial chunk of the remaining pak choi also survived the frosts and are now doing their determined best to flower.

When I got in on Wednesday night, I discovered that my comfrey crowns had finally arrived (on the second attempt) so I've now got those potted up on the patio to establish while I work out where to put them. This means that I also received the last of the seeds currently on order, though I am now seriously considering acquiring two kinds of basil, some caraway and sesame seed, some rocket, and maaaaybe some chickpeas, though chickpeas seem possibly even a step too far for me.

Alas I did not win the greenhouse I had been pining after, but it ended up going for about three times what I was willing or able to pay for it, which means I successfully do not feel bad about having "just missed out" or similar.

Lab supplies. So many lab supplies. I got to campus at around 9 on Thursday and... slightly didn't leave again til 2pm on Saturday, though hopefully by the next time I want to do anything of the sort I'll have 24h access enabled on my card so I'll be able to actually kip on the sofa in my head of group's office rather than drowzing underneath the computer table in the Bloody Cold. (I was wearing three jumpers, a scarf, and fingerless gloves, and I still spent most of those three days shivering.)
china_shop: Close-up of Zhao Yunlan grinning (Default)
[personal profile] china_shop posting in [community profile] fan_flashworks
Title: make up for my regrets
Fandom: Guardian
Rating: G
Length: ~2800 words
Notes: unacknowledged Zhang Shi/Zhao Xinci feelings, background Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING. Also for the prompts Disaster (FFW bingo) and Accidentally Married (crack bingo). Many thanks to [personal profile] trobadora for beta. <3 <3 <3 Angst.
Summary: Zhang Shi takes stock of his new life.

make up for my regrets )
rydra_wong: Angelica Lind stretches for a hold during a bouldering competition (climbing -- reach)
[personal profile] rydra_wong
From Free Solo, here's Alex Honnold explaining the Boulder Problem, the crux of the route he's planning to solo, which occurs about two-thirds of the way up a three-thousand-foot wall:

Multifandom fanfic recs

Feb. 17th, 2019 02:34 pm
selenak: (Peggy Carter by Misbegotten)
[personal profile] selenak
Various neat (and often short) stories in various fandoms from the recent Chocolatebox ficathon.


Agent Carter: After the Storm: The last time Peggy sees Dottie, it’s in 1991, at Howard Stark’s funeral. I have a soft spot for stories tackling older Peggy, and this is a very plausible version of her and Dottie, decades later. Love it both for the Peggy/Dottie and for Peggy's reflections on Howard in the background.

The Defenders: both stories are great slices of life, Jessica pov, for these four post- their respective canons.

Three Times Lucky

Sweetest Thing

Doctor Who:

Save Thyself: Concerning Missy's fate at the end of The Doctor Falls.

Friends make Friends Pancakes: lovely slice of life for Bill and the Doctor

Mongolian History:

Taking Inventory: how Fatima came to be Töregene Khatun's favourite. (Töregene was one of Genghis Khan's daughters-in-law, but you can read the story without previous Knowledge.)

DS9 G/B - "Push" NC-17

Feb. 17th, 2019 04:32 am
mrs260: surface of lake with ripples of darker and lighter blue (Default)
[personal profile] mrs260
Title: Push
Author: mrs260
Series: DS9
Rating: NC-17
Codes: Garak/Bashir, military kink, D/s
Summary: Garak knows just how to push him.
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is the property of Paramount. This story, written in 2019, never has been and never will be sold.
Feedback: Any and all. Criticism welcome.

Read more... )

UK people: mark your calendars

Feb. 17th, 2019 08:44 am
rydra_wong: The BBC's error 500 page, showing the test card clown surrounded by flames. (error fire clown)
[personal profile] rydra_wong
23rd March -- People's Vote march

They've not yet finished their accessibility guide but there's going to be a short route option:

https://www.peoples-vote.uk/march_accessibility

And they need volunteers, if anyone wants to be a marshal.

There might even be a plan:

The Guardian: Remainers plan mass march and key vote in last days before Brexit: Cross-party alliance aims to build pressure on MPs in the run-up to 29 March

Anyway, whether this is a turning point or the last stand before the zombie apocalypse dystopia: time to work on our placards.
sovay: (What the hell ass balls?!)
[personal profile] sovay
With so many pre-Code movies, it can be difficult not to feel that they come to us from some alternate history than the one we were transmitted by Code-compliant Hollywood, so much more progressive and politically engaged that the trick is remembering it's our own hidden history, as real and important as the censorship that squashed all that bracing skepticism and representation into ticky-tacky halfway through 1934.

Gabriel Over the White House (1933) also comes from our own hidden history, unfortunately. It would be much more comfortable to blame it on the Mirror Universe.

In short and without exaggeration, Gabriel Over the White House is the single most fascist film I have seen from a Hollywood studio. Co-produced at MGM by Walter Wanger and especially William Randolph Hearst, it refined a near-future British political melodrama into a ripped-from-the-headlines call for an American strongman, as authoritarian as anything out of Europe and anointed in the line of Lincoln. The fantasy begins with the inauguration of President Judson "Jud" Hammond (Walter Huston), a tall stern-profiled man quickly revealed as the kind of fatuous glad-hander who gives lame ducks a bad name. Jovially reassured by one of the senators who gerrymandered his path to the White House that "by the time they"—the American people—"realize you're not going to keep them"—his campaign promises—"your term'll be over," he wastes no time installing his longtime mistress as his "confidential secretary," distributing ambassadorships and cabinet appointments among his cronies, and reeling off optimistic platitudes to the press corps while simultaneously dismissing nationwide unemployment and organized crime as "local problems." He signs whatever bills his party passes across his desk and looks set to embarrass America on the world stage with such piercing questions as "Say, where is Siam?" The respect he holds for his office can be gauged by the jokey glee with which he uses the very quill with which Lincoln penned the Emancipation Proclamation to sign off on a job of infrastructure graft in Puerto Rico. And then this booby-in-chief gets into a joy-riding road accident and is left in a coma, sinking fast while the White House frantically stalls; the doctors somberly declare the end "merely a matter of hours . . . he's beyond any human help," but as they leave the room a mysterious breeze troubles the curtain, a light from nowhere brightens on the vacant form, and President Hammond rises from his deathbed a messianic visionary, no longer as corrupt as Warren G. Harding, as ineffectual as Herbert Hoover, or as incapacitated as Woodrow Wilson but "a gaunt grey ghost with burning eyes that seem to see right down into you" who swings into nation-saving action as decisively as Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Or Hitler. About two-thirds Hitler and one-third FDR if you ask me. I'm all for financial relief and reform, but nativist star chambers give me cold feet.

To a certain degree, the ideological disorder of Gabriel Over the White House offers a litmus test for the viewer's own politics: which of Hammond's extraordinary actions seem humane and justified and which start you wondering if William Dudley Pelley had a hand in the script? Allowing for a certain steely-eyed rigidity of affect, the newly inspired president's initial clash with his administration is downright sympathetic. In the summer of 1932, Hoover had disastrously mobilized the U.S. Army against the "Bonus Army," a thousands-strong shanty town of disenfranchised veterans and their families peacefully protesting in Anacostia Park. Encouraged by his cabinet of hacks to dispense similar treatment to an "Army of the Unemployed," Hammond instead declares his newfound allegiance to country over party, "Gentlemen, I refuse to call out the Army against the people of the United States," before visiting the protesters' camp in Baltimore to offer each man his personal assurance of "necessary work waiting to be done" with an "Army of Construction" that sounds remarkably like the Works Projects Administration. When Congress balks at supplying the $4 billion budget, the unstoppable Hammond proposes to dissolve Congress with a declaration of national emergency; when Congress resists being dissolved, he invokes martial law. A stunned edition of the Washington Herald reveals the fate of the legislative branch: "Adjourns by Overwhelming Vote – – – Hammond Dictator!" Now, with all that pusillanimous bureaucratic deadweight out of the way, the great man can really get things done. It is no small factor in the film's mirror-queasiness that several of them are things which an American president, scant weeks after production wrapped on Gabriel, would actually do. Though Hammond's radio presence is a little more stentorian than a fireside chat, the emergency initiatives he announces to the "overwhelming support" of the American public fall right in line with the radical common sense of the New Deal, prioritizing the stabilizing of banks and the protection of homes and farms from foreclosure; he just includes the repeal of Prohibition within his first hundred days where FDR would leave it till the end of the year. It's his next few directives that take his dictatorship from turbo-charged president-elect to something more consistent with other totalitarian regimes rising around the world in the spring of 1933. The film expects us to cheer it all alike.

Whether through careful study or parallel evolution, the fascist rhetoric of this film is spot-on. It's got the bits of truth that make the lies go down like velvet, the condemnation of broken-down society and the powerful nostalgic appeal to some lost integrity reclaimable in the right hands. "A plant cannot be made to grow by watering the top alone and letting the roots go dry," Hammond warns Congress in a timely condemnation of trickle-down economics before turning the metaphor on his audience. "The people of this country are the roots of the nation and the sturdy trunk and the branches too . . . You've closed your ears to the appeals of the people. You've been traitors to the concepts of democracy on which this government was founded. I believe in democracy as Washington, Jefferson, and Lincoln believed in democracy, and if what I plan to do in the name of the people makes me a dictator, then it is a dictatorship based on Jefferson's definition of democracy—a government for the greatest good of the greatest number!" That's American authoritarianism as good as anything I've heard in the last few years. By his appeals to the unassailable patriotism of the Founding Fathers, his populist reverence and his denunciation of the nation's lawmakers as traitorous parasites, we are encouraged to view Hammond's seizure of power as an exercise in real democracy, a return to the honest, direct truth of America over the self-serving shell game of big government that merely bamboozles American citizens out of their rights. It's familiar, inflammatory, and seductive. What audience exhausted by the ever-deepening Depression and fed up with the incompetent indifference of the Hoover administration wouldn't agree? The plot feels like the same kind of persuasive buy-in. Hammond handled the Bonus Army better than Hoover, so we trust him; he's handling the Depression just as well as FDR, so we trust him again; and therefore when he decides to junk the judiciary along with the legislature and turn over the powers of judge, jury, and executioner to his paramilitary secret police, shouldn't we trust him still? He's only doing what's best for America. Who gets to be part of America, of course, is especially important in times like these—all fascist ideologies must have a scapegoat and foreigners are the best you can get. Hammond finds his in the racketeers flourishing under Prohibition. Forget all-American Cagney; built up by Hammond's speeches as "the greatest enemy of law and order America has ever known . . . a malignant cancerous growth eating at the spiritual health of the American people . . . arch-enemies of these United States . . . the enemies of every honest citizen, the enemies of our nation," the gangsters of Gabriel Over the White House are an explicitly foreign body headed and personified by C. Henry Gordon's Nick Diamond, a sallow-eyed, smarmily dapper, still-accented "immigrant boy who became the most famous man in America," as if organized crime is never homegrown, as if there's no other kind of crime in America. Advised by the President to deport himself and leave the liquor trade to the U.S. government, Diamond retaliates with a drive-by shooting of the White House and Hammond immediately calls out the newly created "Federal Police." At this point I confess the film starts to assume a slightly farcical quality for me, except it's so humorlessly earnest it's scary. The criminals have Tommy guns; the Federal Police have tank-mounted rocket launchers. Diamond and his organization never see the inside of a courtroom which they know how to buy their way out of; they are dragged off to a dramatically lit bunker and court-martialed by a military tribunal presided over by the young chief of the Federal Police. "We have in the White House a man who has enabled us to cut the red tape of legal procedures and get back to first principles—an eye for an eye, Nick Diamond," he pronounces with satisfaction, "a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life." The gangsters are summarily executed by firing squad as the shadow of the Statue of Liberty looks on. By the time the President is threatening to unleash an air war of "invisible poison gases, inconceivably devastating explosives, annihilating death rays" on the other nations of the world unless they pay America's debts and sign the "Washington Covenant" of universal disarmament and peace, I can see the biplanes and the tall silk hats perfectly well, but I still have the anachronistic feeling I'm watching some kind of balls-out Reaganite fantasia of American totalitarianism, under God. Or, you know, Fox News.

You were wondering about the title? It's the insight of Pendie Molloy (Karen Morley), the President's former mistress, now chaste helpmeet; seeing him wake so suddenly full of vital and resolute purpose and yet strangely remote from sentiment or desire, she becomes convinced that he's inhabited by some presence beyond his own will, "a simple, honest . . . divine madness." Eventually she puts a name to it. "I'm not a very religious person, Beek, but does it seem too fanciful to believe that God might have sent the Angel Gabriel to do for Jud Hammond what he did for Daniel?" Her interlocutor is Hartley Beekman (Franchot Tone), the amiable, slightly crooked presidential secretary who in keeping with the salvation tone of this whole project will reform into Hammond's incorruptible right-hand enforcer, not to mention Pendie's lawfully wedded husband; at the moment he's just a staffer not up on his Bible. "Gabriel? I thought he was a messenger of wrath." Poetically grave as a magdalene, Pendie corrects him, "Not always. To some, he was the angel of revelations, sent as a messenger from God to men." Now we know the identity of the breeze, the light. Now I try not to fall down a hole of eschatology, because the allusion automatically figures America as the new Jerusalem, decreed seventy weeks to mend her transgressions and bring in everlasting righteousness. In concert with the politics described above, it means that this film asserts that God has sent America a fascist savior against whose smashing of democratic idols only the foolish and the wicked would stand—I'm astonished it has not been reclaimed and celebrated by the Evangelical right, unless the left-wing whiff of FDR is scaring them off. In fairness to the filmmakers, I feel this assertion may have dovetailed accidentally from the source mythologies of Christianity and American exceptionalism, but at this particular world-historical moment it still jumps out at me a mile. There's a lot in this story that suggests its authors, whether credited screenwriter Carey Wilson or Hearst himself, did not think maybe as much as they should have about their premises. As soon as Hammond finishes signing the Washington Covenant with Chekhov's Lincoln quill, he collapses insensible—he's dying again, the spirit of Gabriel departing now that its work is done. He regains consciousness just long enough to be assured by Pendie that he's "proved himself one of the greatest men who ever lived" before he expires as peacefully as he should have all those car-crashed weeks ago, the light fading from his face as the divine afflatus ruffles the curtain one last time. I don't know how you feel about the reveal that instead of a wastrel soul redeemed and energized by divine inspiration, we have been watching a comatose body with an angel of wrath and revelation inside it, but I normally look to horror fiction for that sort of thing. I have similar reservations about the way the camera returns meaningfully to a marble bust of Lincoln and the "Battle Hymn of the Republic" rises over the soundtrack at spiritual moments; I fear they are intended not just to confer the legitimacy of our sixteenth president on his fictional thirty-second successor but to imply that Lincoln himself was a vessel of divine possession. That just seems like an insult to Lincoln. Lastly, while I understand that the U.S. was a lot more naïve about authoritarian regimes in 1933, I am amazed at the film's apparent confidence that the institutions of American government will just pick up where Hammond-Gabriel left them—I think it must have envisioned its dictatorship on the idealized Roman model of extraordinary powers of limited scope and duration, whereas I want to know if Beek will inherit the one-man rule of America and if we're going to have proscriptions by Christmas.

If, out of civic-mindedness or curiosity, you are thinking of throwing yourself on the grenade of this movie, I should warn you that in addition to being probably evil, it's kind of bad. I've been fascinated by it ever since I caught it last spring on TCM, but that's an intellectual reaction with inclusions of emotional revulsion: I don't actually recommend it as art. It suffers from the common propaganda problem of resembling a set text more than an entertainment; its characters are strawmen and its tone suggests a black comedy whose sense of irony has been laparoscopically removed. Walter Huston actually gives a committed and flexible performance as both the good-time party hack and the sacred monster who replaces him, but Franchot Tone and Karen Morley could be replaced with lobby cards of themselves at no cost to the production and I have to look at IMDb to remember that there are any other human actors in it at all. Nonetheless, it exists and we might as well acknowledge it. It's an incredible document and a shivery reminder of just how plausible and attractive fascism could look to a disillusioned, frightened America. Well, we figured it out again. Have a nice Presidents' Day! This regime brought to you by my inspirational backers at Patreon.

Adventure Time: Senryu: Heartstrings

Feb. 16th, 2019 10:30 pm
[personal profile] infinitum_noctem posting in [community profile] fan_flashworks
Title: Heartstrings
Fandom: Adventure Time
Characters: Marceline
Rating: G
Length: 13
Author Notes: Written for Challenge 254: Note and Challenge 96: Music (Bingo Square) at fan_flashworks
Summary: Marceline plays music to express her emotions.

Read more... )
siderea: (Default)
[personal profile] siderea
OMFG.

So a million years ago last December, I decided I was Done with BoA, and signed up for a fresh business bank account with a new bank. This one is with Webster.

Not much happened in the account in December, what with the various challenges of setting it up (about which I have failed to regale you, o my readers), but starting with the new (fiscal) year, I converted over to using it.

So I just got what is effectively my first statement, covering the month of January. The first month in which I actually ran money through it.

Turns out, the way Webster accounts deposits made at ATMs is that it batches all the checks put in at once as one transaction, and it batches all the cash put in at the same time as another transaction.

So, if you you go to an ATM and deposit a check for $100, a check for $91 and $7 cash, it will appear on your statement as a transaction for $191 and a separate transaction for $7.

Oh hello, this makes my checkbook unbalanceable.

I, like a normal human, record transactions in my checkbook in one of two ways. Either all the money going into the machine at once is one transaction (e.g. of $198) or I break each of the checks out separately (e.g. three transactions: $100, $91, and $7). What I do not do is lump just the checks.

At first, as I started trying to use this statement to reconcile my account, I thought it was merely highly unfortunate. I had been using the batch-everything approach (which is how the previous bank did things), so I was having to add transactions mentally on the statement to figure out which things to mark as cleared in my digital checkbook. Having to do mental arithmetic to balance a digital checkbook is asinine - it's error prone and time consuming, and exactly what I am trying to avoid by having a digital checkbook in the first place.

Then I got to the last deposit I had made, on Jan 31st. The bank only registered part of it - the cash part. The checks I deposited? Don't appear at all. So now I have an entry on 1/31 for $459.00, of which $240 has cleared. I have absolutely no way to indicate that on my register – except to edit in two transactions, one for the cash and one for the checks.

I'm very strongly inclined to close this account rather than change how I keep my books to be compatable with this. I am completely aghast.

This is the first I've ever seen of this practice. Generally "first I've ever seen of this practice" in banking makes me think it maybe is illegal. Certainly it's ridiculous.

Anybody else's banks do this? Apparently I'm back in the business bank account market, and I'd like to know what companies to avoid.
siderea: (Default)
[personal profile] siderea
Apropos of the previous, is the sheilding in coax good enough that you can wrap a cord of fairy lights around it, without impairing the internet-conveying functioning of coax or otherwise leading to unfortunate outcomes?

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