Oh J.K. Rowling, cut it out.
*Spoilers here* You killed him off, J.K.! The man, in your books is dead! What does this mean?
I guess it means Dumbledore will try to date other guys in the other re-animated portraits?
These books are so not making it in to my dissertation. Because I thought she was bad at character development before but this takes the cake. If only because now all that horrible slash fiction I once had to listen to was accurate on some level.
And I can’t forward that cause.
You know, sometimes I wonder who makes up the hundreds of people who read my website month after month.
Of the people who read and I haven’t met, technically speaking, there’s people from the Blogroll.
And my in-laws and my cousin Jeanne and my friends Shannon and Stacie and of course Peter.
That takes it up to about 12 a week. Maybe 24 a week or so, if you come back more than once, but some people are on FeedBurner and such, so it evens out.
So then, who are the others? Today it was answered unto me that they are, probably, Grobanites. Fans of Josh Groban. Groban, Groban, Groban. The freaking curly-haired seraph from whose voice I shall never be free (yesterday I was up to 64 listenings of Little Drummer Boy, thank you Ipod). I know this because on the thread that will not die over at the ol’ Fan Club watering hole (Adrienne versus the French), I mentioned that I was surprised anyone actually read my site. To which someone replied, “To the contrary re your blog...the gals at JustJoshGroban and ReformedWomen read your blog and as well as the folks at ReformedBloggers, and the rest of the bunch.”
ReformedBloggers? Huh? What? Who are they, are they Lutheran, and should I convert? I mean, no one from the warm fold of the United Methodist Church has ever stopped by. Well, I did get hate mail once. But I figured that was from my ordination committee.
Apparently Josh lovers come here in force. Or Lutherans. Or maybe Presbyterians.
The irony is in real life I hang out with devout Catholics or agnostics, none of whom can stand Josh Groban.
Go figure.
Question: How many fans of Josh Groban does it take to change a light bulb?
Answer: 456. One to change the light bulb, one to say that she did it in a way that insults Josh Groban, France, and all that is good and right, and 454 to discuss the implications of the first two people.
So, a few posts ago, I wrote about Josh Groban’s new Christmas release, Noel. And I mentioned that he insisted on singing a song in French and that I thought this was a bad idea.
It seems that another fan googled the word “Grobanite” and it brought her to humble theologygirl. She thought the Noel post was funny, so she reposted it on the Fan Club message board. (Yes, of course I’m a member of his fan club. And you probably feel this way about Death Cab for Cutie or someone else so quit judging me.)
This was okay, many people came to my site for the “review” (it was posted in the “news” forum). Most thought it was funny. However, the fact that it was on the fan board violated a sacred unwritten rule--thou shalt not criticize Groban in any way.
And one might construe my opinion as criticism. Just like many other entries where I make fun of his other songs might be construed as criticism. They haven’t found those yet though, which would probably explain why they still let me be a member.
Anyway, certain people responded to this, my innocent post. Which led to a major spike in readership not unlike the BoingBoing referral day (shout out to TJIC for that--word, brother). This was a fun surprise today until people started thinking I was a patriotic zealot (as I must not like the French songs because the French didn’t support us going to Iraq) or that I hate all French speaking people.
Well sure. I can see how you would get that. Since I mentioned before how I thought Groban’s “Lullaby” lyrics were silly and inconsistent, and I do in fact hate all people who sleep.
And I made fun of “Remember when it Rained,” too, because I don’t like people with emotions either. Well, people with emotions who sometimes end up in the rain. Jerks, all of them.
So, at the end of the day, I am now one of those people who hurt others (nay, entire nations!) by saying I didn’t like two of Josh’s songs. And there is much debate in the fan community about this. Some say I am entitled to my opinion, some say that I shouldn’t write things like that because it hurts people. And still others say no fan of Josh would speak against any of his music. The fact is is that people in Josh Groban fandom (in any fandom?) are vilified when they dare have a sense of humor about the thing they themselves love.
I say I probably shouldn’t read those fan boards any more. But let’s face it, without them I wouldn’t be able to change a light bulb.
There is a knock on the door. A knock on the door is never seldom a good thing when one is on call.
A Resident Assistant enters, stage left.
“I found something in one of the rooms.” Her tone is grave.
The Resident Director, stage right, sucks in her breath. She imagines Jack Daniels body shots gone terribly wrong. Drugs. Destruction. Death.
“It was a stripper pole.”
The RD exhales.
“And I know you probably want me to do an incident report, and I told them to take it down, and don’t be too mad because they said it was a gift and . . .”
“Was it blocking the door?”
“Not entirely. But someone would definitely run in to it if they were trying to get out in the dark.”
“Yeah. They should move it away from the door.”
“That is what I . . . wait. Shouldn’t I confiscate it? Shouldn’t I do an incident report?”
“Nah! Please. They can strip all they want. It’s not a violation of policy. I just don’t want the pole to cause their untimely deaths if there is a fire.”
“Are you serious?”
“Sure. They didn’t drill in to the ceiling or floor did they?”
“Uh, no?”
“Then great! You know, I hear strip tease is good exercise. Maybe we should do a wellness program with it!”
The RA exits stage left, shaking her head, no doubt wondering if she ever really knew her RD at all.
