kathleen_dailey

100 percent AI, but fun to watch nevertheless. (For me, more fun than some parts of studio-produced Trek of recent years.)

Just when I'm about to give up on finding a non-run-of-the-mill, TOS-centric fic that engrosses, provokes thought, and assumes a reader's willingness to reflect and theorize along with the author, AO3 offers me this:

"The Proliferation Problem (or: David Marcus Built a Garden Tool)" by InForestPlace

Rating: General audiences
Warnings: No archive warnings apply
Fandoms: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan - Fandom, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock - Fandom
Characters: David Marcus, James T. Kirk, Khan Noonien Singh, Carol Marcus

Author's summary: David Marcus died believing Starfleet wanted to weaponize his work. He was right that it was beautiful. He was wrong about almost everything else. A structural analysis of what Genesis actually was, what Khan understood immediately, what Starfleet could not explain, and why Kirk's hand went against the glass.

The author's note calls this work "meta-fic," but except for a specific mention of "TWOK" it reads like a wholly in-universe post-mission analysis, prepared by, perhaps, a respected military historian or political-science scholar, and delivered--not in an academic journal but in person at some high-level meeting, because the piece is informal, personal, and reflective--to very senior Federation policy makers and Starfleet leadership.

And this author can write: the style, pacing, and structure of the story are all very skillfully handled.

The story captured my interest from the very first line. An impressive find.

The Real Jerk's co-founder dies at 69.

Ed Pottinger's death is very sad news. Until mobility issues intervened, spouse and I were regular customers at The Real Jerk ever since its very first incarnation (a storefront on the north side of Queen near Greenwood) back in the 1980s. We were so happy when the restaurant relocated to Queen and Broadview because it was closer to work and thus an easier destination for takeout for both staff and clients. I really hope the restaurant (now even closer to the old studio, at Carlaw and Gerrard) continues to flourish.

Subject line courtesy of my viewing partner, a diehard Letterkenny fan.

( No spoilers, just opinion )

Yesterday was just cascades of fat, wet, bloppy snow; ice pellets alternating with freezing rain; and dangerously slippery surfaces everywhere. Naturally I had to (1) keep an appointment with my family doctor (lest it take me months to get another one), and (2) accompany the spouse to a root-canal appointment (reason ditto). Total of four to-and-from cab rides, one across town to Bloor and Christie, one just a few blocks to Cumberland and Bay. Needless to say I tipped both drivers an immense amount, since they were the ones doing the dangerously heavy lifting during the storm. In theory we could have walked to the endodontist, but the sidewalks were so messy and treacherous that I don't think the spouse could have pushed the walker through it all. Thank you, Beck Taxi, for being reliable and timely and keeping us safe.

( Cut for medical and hospital stuff )

I've been postponing buying a new phone because I jusdonwanna, but after the hospital experience with an ancient phone that doesn't hold a charge for more than an eyeblink I'll have to take care of that chore PDQ. I didn't have my charger with me, of course, and although I was allowed to use the charging station at the nurses' desk, I had to (guiltily, reluctantly, shamefacedly) ask someone to take it there since they wouldn't let me go out of the room until they were satisfied that I wasn't going to infect anyone with anything. So there'll be no more procrastinating on the phone front.

Today, while the spouse was at his physio rehab class, I ventured over to Valu-Mart for provisions because the prediction is for more precip of one awful kind or another over the next couple of days. The sidewalks were mostly clear, but OMG the ankle-deep piles of slush and pools of water at Every. Single. Curb. I guess the sewers are so plugged up that no public or private organization is willing or able to clear them. Having to drag my fully loaded shopping cart back home through the mess was not fun. I can't imagine how mobility-device users navigate this shit. Thank goodness the spouse has access to Wheel-Trans for trips that can be planned far enough in advance.

While eating lunch I saw two extremely large raptors stalking the giant cloud of pigeons that routinely circle back and forth near the corner of Yonge and Charles. They were too far away to identify, but I'm guessing they were eventually successful in getting a meal, if only by virtue of the sheer size of the pigeon buffet.

I've been thinking about the forthcoming halfamoon, celebrating female characters in fandom, and as always I'm looking forward to reading the contributors' fic and recs.

I've reconciled myself (mostly) to the idea that I'm unlikely to be writing any more fiction; but if a Muse of Stories should ever condescend to visit me again in this lifetime, I'd ask for her help in writing three works:

( Possible spoilers for decades-old source material )

Huh. There might be a bit of a theme discernible in both my actual and hypothetical fic.

I still haven't seen Heated Rivalry, but I feel that I already know a reasonable amount about the series and the characters from reading so much fic and meta. Personally, I just want to find a Shoresy/Heated Rivalry crossover whose author really, truly, deeply gets both shows (if such a person even exists) and has the near-supernatural writing chops (ditto) necessary to pull off a very unlikely crack-treated-seriously meld.

While I'm waiting, here are some thoughts from Canadian media on HR:

The Tyee: There are now two types of people in the world: those who spent the final days of 2025 rapt in the clutches of Heated Rivalry ... and those who didn’t.

The Walrus: An interview with Rachel Reid: "I kind of do approach the hockey and the sex exactly the same way."

The Currrent: Matt Galloway looks at whether Heated Rivalry can change hockey culture.

CP24: A Montreal bookshop hosts a Heated Rivalry rewatch

Get up and dance.

I don't think about my old neighbourhood very often, but today I received a message that mentioned the imminent sale of the Beacher Café (or maybe it's already sold--the website is gone), which triggered a frisson of nostalgia.

I remember the many fannish conversations I had at that café, a place that I still associate with an otherworldly, altered-state-of-consciousness period of intense reading and writing and imagining and analyzing (just like what I'm seeing now with friends who are immersed in Heated Rivalry creativity). For some reason--its lighting, its layout, the artwork on the walls, the general ambience--that particular café felt like a portal that, if entered at the right moment and in the right mood, might transport us to a dimension where we could catch a real-time glimpse of the universe and characters that preoccupied us so strongly.

It's been decades since I've lived in that time-forgotten lakeside neighbourhood, but I'll never forget the irreproducible synergy of people, ideas, and passionate inspiration of those days.

"No nation in the world could achieve what America has achieved yesterday or frankly in a short period of time," [Trump] said of his administration's actions. "We are going to run the country."

The international rule of law is clearly no longer a foundational system. Next thing we know, Canada, Mexico, Greenland, and jurisdictions yet to be named--along with all their resources--will be (or may already be) action items on this demented criminal's agenda.

And we're not even a week into the new year. May the Goddess or her equivalent help our poor world.