Hey, I am looking for a X-Men/X-Files crossover story that I read a while back.  It was slash, between Mulder and Bobby Drake, and I'm pretty sure most of the narrative happened in a motel room or something, where they were meeting?  I can't remember much more than that, sorry!

Thank you in advance, this has been driving me crazy!

The series never did explain why Mulder's parents named him the way they did. Both Bill and Teena Mulder seem kind of stiff and serious, not the sort of people who would give their son an unusual name. So, what's your theory? Why do you think Mulder's parents named him Fox?

Friends,
Here is the photograph for the Alexander Men Conference
(for front of hall) which film maker Sergey Bezsmertny sent
yesterday and which we are blowing up for use:
http://alexandermen.livejournal.com/23921.html

Good news for us that hexmode computer wizard
and joffridus from Pittsburgh now, friend,
and many things from guitar player to theologian to peacenik
to beatnik perhaps, are hoping to attend.

Else I read Tommaso Campanella's brief City of the Sun
a story of an ideal society in model of Plato or St Thomas
More etc. He wrote it in prison(for involvement in a revolt
against Spanish influence ) as he was to be for a good many
years from 1597-1626 followed by release and a period of
wonderful honor from Urban VIII with whom he worked as
advisor and astrologer and all around Mage and in France where
he was close to Cardinal Richilieu. It is an interesting work
to a point... and I will include an excerpt. Let me pose here
a question which perhaps is relevant to what I will feel about
the excerpt. (this from Eliot)

"Then spoke the thunder
DA
Datta: what have we given?...
By this, and this only, we have existed."

But for our page from City of the Sun which describes the
Temple at the center of the circular city ,and for some
thought on this please click to the right here.( Read more... )
We might add that from the City of the Sun ,Campanella came
at last to the Sun King, with Cardinal Richilieu acting
as propher and as mage I suppose, Merlin, to Louis XIV's
Arthur...
Well this journal entry may be less immediately of interest
to some than some have been, I don't know...but it is a
thought in my mind today and shared it and here it is and
as always I invite all you have on it or on anything
else at all, yours
+Seraphim
.
Portrait of Campanella by Francesco Cozza.

http://biglight.com/blog/x-files-dvds-for-charity/

http://biglight.com/blog/?p=1343

Frank,
Just a quick note that as part of XFN’s “Believe in the Future” campaign and the upcoming IWTB Week, extra copies of The X-Files: I Want to Believe can be donated to several charitable organizations including but not limited to the Cancer Research Foundation, Movies for Free and AM Vets. More charities will be added to XFN once we confirm their participation. So for Philes that already own copies of the film, which I am sure is most of you, any extra copies bought during IWTB Week can go towards several great causes!
Our friends over at IBG have been helping us do the math on this one and Philes need to buy 1,000 DVDs to make a spike in the sales and 30,000 DVDs to make it to the top of the charts. The weekly DVD sales counts are based on domestic units sold so while you are free to purchase from any store, we highly recommend you look at purchasing through Amazon.com if you are outside the United States.
For more information let your fingers do the walking to www.xfilesnews.com
Tiff, Avi and the XF3 Army

http://biglight.com/blog/1338/

http://biglight.com/blog/?p=1338

Hi Frank,

I would like to know the status of A Philosophical Investigation. Will this ever be released?

Lee

United Kingdom

The screenplay for A Philosophical Investigation was commissioned when Sherry Lansing was president of Paramount Pictures.  As so often happens in Hollywood,  a new regime was in power by the time the script was finished and they had no interest in pursuing a project developed by their predecessors.  So, for now, the script sits in limbo, property of Paramount Pictures.  The producer, Mace Neufeld, still hopes to get it made eventually.

http://biglight.com/blog/iwtb-week/

http://biglight.com/blog/?p=1333

They came, they saw, and they conquered Phile style! The XF3 Army has invaded post card shops, YouTube and is now planning an attack on iTunes and every store selling DVDs from here to Antarctica! Join XFN and Philes from around the world in celebrating IWTB Week. The rules of engagement are simple. Head out between July 20th and 26th and purchase a single disk DVD copy of the second X-Files feature film in stores or on iTunes and help spike the films sales during its one year anniversary week!

For more information on how to join, head over to www.xfilesnews.com or email Avi and me if you have questions about the campaign.

Also The Skype Files will be having a special session that week to view the second film so be sure to click their icon on XFN’s front page.

As always, thanks for being a Phile and helping us “Believe in the Future.”

Tiffany

www.xfilesnews.com

Friday ended up being a pleasant distraction from the current state of my days. My work on the fourth chapter of the dissertation is right now in more of what I'd call a "reading and mumbling to myself" stage, prior to what I think is going to be an explosive bit of writing. I have moved from what my director calls the "what Sullivan thinks" stage (Francis A. Sullivan, S.J. being my main conversation-partner or subject in the dissertation) to the "what Novak thinks" stage. As such, I think I'm going to alter my writing habit from a slow and point-by-point, heavily-annotated style of writing, to actually writing a fast, almost stream-of-consciousness first draft of this chapter. After that, I can go back and "fortify" it with closer attention and referencing of my reading in this direction, but I have a particularly "original" argument to make in this chapter, and I think that it might be interesting or useful to just get all that's stewing in my brain out in one great effort this time, and then move to order it into a greater academic format.

But, as I said, Friday proved to be an agreeable shift from that line of meditation. My former student and current friend Jessica and I had been playing tag for a few weeks about trying to set some time together to catch up at greater length. That's been complicated by her summer school and work schedule, and my frequent absences of late in going down to visit family. When we decided to meet for lunch, postponing from Thursday to Friday in order to accommodate a particularly heavy bit of reading for her work in philosophy of crime and punishment, we ended up opting for the classic Milwaukee venue of lunch outside down at Alterra on the Lake. There was a bit of lunch rush when we got there, a little after noon, but we manage to grab some outdoor seating looking over the marina, and settled in to enjoy the food, light, air and company. So we talked about some of the expected topics: her and Nathan's upcoming wedding, their marriage prep and the state of marriage prep in the Catholic Church in general, what she was doing in her current course, Fahey's reaction to my most recent dissertation chapter – that sort of thing. We talked a bit about our current re-reading of The Lord of the Rings (I had just finished re-reading it the other week, she was in the midst of it, when she could get past her school reading), and about the re-reading of books in general, as I also mentioned re-reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince prior to the movie adaptation of the book coming out this week. I peppered my end of the conversation with an old story or two that came to mind that I thought were funny.

We had also gotten onto a bit of a run about Milwaukee architecture, as we came walking down to Alterra after going past the new hi-rise condominiums and a few of the grand old houses on E. Lafayette. We got back onto this as we climbed the hillside back up to Lafayette, after Jessica expressed interest in walking over to Villa Terrace, which she had never seen before, or heard of for that matter. I was particularly interested in her take on the "Italian-ness" of the Villa, given that Jess is a native of northern Italy, despite her American citizenship, as her Mom teaches at a school on an American military base about 90 minutes north of Venice, which is where Jessica lived from when she was four until she started at Marquette. So we talked about the features of the houses we were looking at, and I particularly enthused about some of the large porches on them – being a big fan of porches: my undergraduate mentor Marvin A. Powell and I once identified the screened porch as the high point of human civilization – and I compared what we were looking at to the architecture of the houses I saw in Tunisia, designed as they were with balconies and deck spaces to be open to the movement of the wind along the Sahara frontier.

We found one house, old, stern, and battered-looking, set amid an overgrown yard on the corner of Lafayette and North Terrace Avenue that we decided looked fabulous for the traditional haunted house I loved in spooky stories from grade school. There were still some "improvements" that needed to be made, we decided: the house next door's wrought-iron fence should be placed around this house and made two or three times as high, and it needed to be set further back from the street. Jess thought it definitely needed a broken window or two. I was about to go up to the porch, and maybe peer into a window or two when we discovered a Mercedes parked in the driveway around the side of the house, which surprised me, given the state of the lawn. I would have thought the neighbours in such grand old mansions would have raised a ruckus about keeping things more uniformly trim. We then wandered into Back Bay Park, which I never had done, stopping to look out at a bench set in a good spot giving an overview of all of Milwaukee Bay, watching the boats and discussing the virtues of my new camera and digital cameras in general. When we wandered on to look at the houses along the park, an elderly man who owned the one right on the bluff overlooking the Lake, which we were most interested in, stepped out not to yell at us, as we feared, but to give us an architectural history of the place from its initial construction in 1896 and the alterations made to it in the 1920s. He got most excited raving about the view of the moonrises over the waters that he had been enjoying the last few nights, and I was pleased to discover that such a place belonged to someone who so enjoyed it. He then discovered that he had apparently locked himself out of his house, and while Jess and I tried to coach him on where we thought we were hearing the jingle of keys – he was rather hard of hearing and never understood any of our suggestions – he continued his running commentary on the development of the house, finally finding his keys in the door, where he had left them as he unlocked the wrought-iron outer door when he stepped out to speak with us. It was priceless in a sort of kindly, polite, "Mr. Magoo" kind of way.

When we got to Villa Terrace, Jessica seemed quite struck by it, which of course pleased me in the "I'm glad I didn't waste your time" sort of way. The woman selling admission to the museum gave us the quick overview of the history of the place, and we decided to step outside into the gardens before taking in the current exhibition. Now we got to talking a bit more about what Jessica might do with Theology after graduation and after the wedding. Nathan, her fiancé, is an Army engineer who just finished his ROTC training along with his education at Marquette, and who is working in the Veterans Administration hospital system. This year, conveniently for them as Jessica goes into her senior year, he is stationed in Madison, and next year they will head out to Portland, Oregon. That opens up the possibility of doing something at the University of Portland, which is a CSC school, like Notre Dame: founded by the Congregation of Holy Cross (Congregatio a Sancta Cruce). I met a lot of guys from Portland when I lived at Holy Cross House at Notre Dame, and so I talked about my general feel of the community and what possibilities might be there (as I don't actually know anything about a Master's program there). My classmates Brett and Theresa are also living there now, and actively involved in local ministry, and having mentioned that I could make an introduction to such good people, I told Jess a bit about their story, which was one of the epics of our time at Notre Dame. Jessica talked about a Bioethics program that she was considering being able to do long-distance, which she described as being "as practical as she could stand."

So we leaned on the rails of the terrace and talked "shop" for a while, although I took time to tell her the story of taking aristotle2002 her when he visited and his creating a minor stir among LJ friends by describing the Villa in the pictures he posted as "Mike's place." Most interesting for me to hear was her realization that Theology simply excited her much more than Philosophy did (she's doing a double-major), and that that seemed to provide a certain clarity for what she might want to go on to do. I don't think that everyone who becomes literate in Theology ought to become a theologian: what good would that be? But I got big points in the Department for "discovering" Jessica her freshman year in my Introduction to Theology class, which she was taking as part of her standard Marquette undergraduate requirements during her first semester at the University, without knowing at all that she had been blessed with a profound talent for the reflective sciences. I can remember how odd, and sort of thrilling, it was for me as a sophomore, when Albert Resis became the first of the History faculty to talk to me about doing a doctorate. It's an odd thing, to see a beginner and to realize that they have that sort of talent in them. So, even moreso now that Jessica has become a good friend, I'm quite interested in seeing whether she might go the distance in the field, although I understand perfectly well that it's also a Good Thing if she simply becomes a "civilian" in some other discipline or life-plan who just happens to be exceptionally talented and literate in theology, because certainly a field like ours that has been so popularly marginalized by the Enlightenment over the last 200 years, also just needs such people as part of re-creating a popular literacy and competence. (I'll forego here my general spiel about how the Enlightenment's attempt to "free" people from Theology has simply resulted in a theologically and philosophically naive population instead: people far more likely to be taken in by bad theology or anti-theology than to be sound and free thinkers.)

Ach. This is getting longer than I expected: perhaps I'll come back and do another entry to talk about the later conversation, our look through the Jon Michael Route exhibition, "For the Love of Metal," and then my evening over at the Lloyds, catching up with them for the first time since I'd gone to visit family (other than talking with Dan at the library last week) and enjoying the presence of Barnes, who was in town to see his granddaughter and harass Mike and Dan for drafts of the first chapters of their dissertations on second century Name Christology and the Trinitarian theology of Novatian, respectively. Or maybe not: I'm still being pretty distracted by my own reading (and mumbling).

Poinsettia and shadow

When I was in grad school, I took a course in twentieth century Spanish culture taught by the famous Spanish philosopher Jose Luis Aranguren. Possessed of that typical Spanish anarchism at a personal level that automatically rebels against dictates laid down against a person, Aranguren abhored the idea of tests and flatly refused to give them in his classes. Instead, we were to write one paper, which could be on any topic we chose that was even tangentially related to the course material.

Because I'd lived in Madrid several years earlier, the topic that tickled its way into my mind was this: life in Madrid during the Spanish Civil War (1936-39.) Though there were no books to be found on this topic, searching for material did lead me to my graduate advisor, one of the most fortunate coincidences of my life. However, my first stop in looking for pertinent material was my originally assigned advisor, a professor from the south of Spain who always appeared perfectly put-together: carefully-tailored suit, sweater vest, tie and meticulously polished shoes. Never a hair out of place. He was probably between 45 and 50 at the time.

As we sat in his office, he admitted that he knew of no books on my chosen topic and urged me to go see his friend, another department professor who'd been in the thick of the government of the late Republic during the war. Then he paused, shifted in his chair and told me the following story.

He had been been a boy of six when the civil war began. His family lived in Granada, and on the opening day of the war, without warning the family awoke to tanks in the streets. His mother, sensing the direction that things would go, sent her six-year-old son out with instructions to go to the corner panaderia (bread store) and purchase whatever bread he could before the store closed, as she sensed it soon would. He recalled the fear he felt going out into the near-deserted street with the ominous tanks. But though he ran all the way to the panaderia, he arrived to find it already closed.

Knowing his family needed bread, he went another block, hoping to find some at another panaderia, but when he reached it, it too was closed. Though by this time he was very much afraid, he went on, perhaps several more blocks, to a third store and arrived just in time to buy the last loaf they had. Cradling it in his arms, he started quickly for home. He was proud at having finally found the bread his mother had sent him for. But as he hurried through an alley, he encountered a man coming toward him. The man snatched little Enrique's loaf of bread away.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I bit him on the leg," the professor replied. He shrugged. He was only a small boy, incapable of fighting the grownup who had stolen his loaf. He went home empty-handed.

I've often thought of this incident, and the sharing of it, because it was a gift on several levels. While it clearly added to my understanding of the first-person reality of the war, it was also an unexpected glimpse into the interior of a formal, proper man. At the time I was roughly half his age, and the act of offering me his six-year-old self is one I will always appreciate... and remember with a smile. Beyond that, there's so much to be said for the richness of personal narratives in critical times. History books give you names and statistics, but not the living flesh and pounding blood of the people who lived through thosee events. Personal narratives, like those of Laura Ingalls Wilder or Anne Frank, make the events real to us.

And yet so many of these stories slip away, unrecorded. They become vague memories, and then faulty memories, and finally they disappear beneath the dust of time and matters of more urgent concern. This recounting is an effort to save this small gem from oblivion. The war that occasioned it has been fought, left behind, analyzed and set on the shelf. But the story of a six-year-old facing down a mean adult in a whitewashed alley brings that period immediately back to vivid life.

http://questionablecontent.net/view.php?comic=1447

Somewhere, right now, someone is writing Wil/Coleridge/Ancient Mariner slash fiction.

Hott.

It has been suggested that perhaps we need a break from angst, so the planned Tesla three-parter has been postponed that we may clear our heads. We can tackle it next week. This week I bring you Pasta!fic. The author says it's babyfic written to sounds of the Breeders' "Last Splash." I have no idea what that means but if estella_c thinks it's worth reading, that's good enough for me.

"Al Dente"

When the geocities link goes down later this year, you can find it on her author's page at Gossamer.

Read, give feedback to the author, encourage her to move her site, give us suggestions for next time. Did I leave anything out? Oh, that's right. Was it good for you, too?

If you just have to have something else to read, try "Kinesthesia". It, of course, is not on her author's page, it's misfiled under Amy, her real name (or is that another fandom name?). Whatever. Gossamer works well until it just doesn't. It's a casefile, NC-17. Yes, of course, I'd like to know how you liked that one, too. Enjoy!

Do you ever get in stages in your life where you just feel like you're treading water? I know I have places to go and things to do, but I seem unable to move from where I'm at. I've been very preoccupied lately, mostly with things that don't matter, but I think they're covering up issues that do matter. I think the problem is that I don't know what to do about the latter, so I just fester in the menial instead.

I spent most of the afternoon in traffic. I went to the wake of my friend's brother who passed away unexpectedly. I didn't stay long - after all, I didn't know the brother and was mainly there to give support to my friend.

Wes and I had a discussion about this today, as he didn't attend the wake. He felt like having people who are not family (Wes and I are both technically co-workers of this friend) was more of a burden to the person than support, and that he didn't understand why people feel obligated to attend wakes. My argument was that, while you may find it draining at the time, to deal with all the people coming through and you just feel raw with emotion and unsure of how to deal with it, afterward, the difficulty and pain of that day fades and you remember, fondly, those who came to support you in your time of need.

As I said before, I've never personally lost someone very close to me, so I don't know how I would be at [that person's] wake/funeral, but knowing my personality, I feel that is how it would play out. I would probably be embarrassed at my inability to control my emotions that day, but afterward, would appreciate those who were there for me.

I'm so sorry about your losses, my friend. My prayers are with your family and hope that the healing of your hearts is not a long process!

I'm posting this on behalf of my  boyfriend, who does not have a LiveJournal.
He is currently extremely interested in finding out more about the Soviet Space Program but so far cannot seem to find any decent books on the subject. I've tried JSTOR for him but nothing there seems to be of any use to him and my university only appears to have two books on the subject, one of which was lost to an unscrupulous borrower over a decade ago, the other which I have placed on hold.
If anybody has any suggestions on good books dealing with the history of the Soviet Space Program, please let me know!

i've been completely hopelessly stuck trying to write comics lately so i've taken to just drawing stupid five minute things with no planning or ideas for jokes

guess i'll post them here because where else am i gonna post them

Dear everyone,

I am leaving soon on a two week trip where I will have spotty internet access. Does anyone here want to take over while I"m gone?

If not, then I might get a few of the days posted, but I don't think I'll be able to do them all.

Thanks everyone!
-Laura


Horarium for July 14
Universalis

Office of Readings / Vigils
Morning Prayer / Lauds
Mass Readings
Evening Prayer / Vespers
Night Prayer / Compline

Liturgy of the Hours Apostolate

July 14. Subscription required

Saints of the Day

Saint Cast podcast
Saint of the Day.

Samples:


See all HERE.

Just go and read the new aloysiavirgata : The Very Edges Of Where We Take Shape. I found it  beautiful and very poetic. As I said in my feedback, the girl writes like a painter.

Now if you excuse me CGB Spender is waiting to take me donwstairs, wayyyy downstairs.

Oh well, it was worth it. And besides, brimstone matches my eyes. *smiles sweetly*.