Personal Fanon, random edition
Oct. 20th, 2014 07:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
feldmanST:TOS: Human societies will have a perennial dialogue about gender and the performance thereof, and much like the manly silk breeches of long ago, in the Federation future the smoky upper eyelid is coded as a masculine look for men of authority. And Kirk is kinda bummed that he really doesn't have the brow arch to pull it off.
HP: After the war, after her failed political career, after her more successful efforts in social justice reforms, Hermione Granger finally writes the book that's been fermenting in the back of her head for sixty years--a tour de force treatise on the traditions and power of naming in magical culture. It's chockablock with arithmetical equations, history, case studies, anthropology and statistical analyses, and it's the most dangerous and least read book in centuries. To the rare mind that can grok it, it confers a knowledge that cracks the world wide open, but it's denser than Hagrid's rum raisin scones the time he mistook quickrete for bisquick.
MCU: In IM1 Pepper Potts does not get the fucking dry cleaning, she has staff who accomplish the hands-on tasks while she is the sole face Tony has to deal with in his own house. The cheese plate Tony snacks on in IM3 is, if not the handiwork of a personal chef, likely gathered from a selection pantry and fridge items curated by one. Jarvis can hack real-time aeronautical dogfights*, and does wicked data analysis, but cannot be trusted to grocery shop beyond restocking staples.
*By cheating with an elegant near-synesthetic tactile/haptic interface that outsources them from Tony's cerebellum. Because Tony is the kind of guy who, when he drives, extends his personal sensorium out to the fenders and tires, and tracks the other cars like clubs being juggled.
HP: After the war, after her failed political career, after her more successful efforts in social justice reforms, Hermione Granger finally writes the book that's been fermenting in the back of her head for sixty years--a tour de force treatise on the traditions and power of naming in magical culture. It's chockablock with arithmetical equations, history, case studies, anthropology and statistical analyses, and it's the most dangerous and least read book in centuries. To the rare mind that can grok it, it confers a knowledge that cracks the world wide open, but it's denser than Hagrid's rum raisin scones the time he mistook quickrete for bisquick.
MCU: In IM1 Pepper Potts does not get the fucking dry cleaning, she has staff who accomplish the hands-on tasks while she is the sole face Tony has to deal with in his own house. The cheese plate Tony snacks on in IM3 is, if not the handiwork of a personal chef, likely gathered from a selection pantry and fridge items curated by one. Jarvis can hack real-time aeronautical dogfights*, and does wicked data analysis, but cannot be trusted to grocery shop beyond restocking staples.
*By cheating with an elegant near-synesthetic tactile/haptic interface that outsources them from Tony's cerebellum. Because Tony is the kind of guy who, when he drives, extends his personal sensorium out to the fenders and tires, and tracks the other cars like clubs being juggled.
no subject
Date: 2014-10-21 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-10-21 08:13 pm (UTC)