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Just your friendly neighbourhood transguy.
Interested in politics in general, and those of the body in particular. Also into intellectual property, civil liberties, social contract theory, good writers and shitload of other stuff. If you want clarifications, you'll have to ask me.

WHATS IN A NAME, as explained to Vileseagulls late one night.

OK, once upon a time, when I was a whee little babe of 14, I decided to write the next Great Gay novel. The only one to hold responsible for that unfortunate decision was EM Forster, as "Maurice" was the fuel of my erm, literary loins. Seeing that at the time I was also heavily into Anne Rice AND Mercedes Lackey, the novel-that-shall-not-be-named soon gained a distinctly were-creaturely appeal. The premise was that the Ethala, the canid race, and the Lherala, the feline race were forever bound to fight over the planet, until the planet didn't take anymore and disintegrated, and both races sent out the last of their kind, whose pods land next to each other in 9th century Noregr.
The novel was written in it's 200 handwritten page entirety during my math class, and was confiscated very short of completion by the teacher.

I'm trying to get all my Livejournal friends' locations plotted on a map (http://ljmaps.robobeasts.com/viewmap.php?user=Lherelenfeline) - please add your location starting with this form. Username: (Then get your friends to!)