So, this Christian propaganda film is about the dangers of premarital kissing. (I suspect this is a joint production of Christian Propaganda Enthusiasts and the PDA-Weary NYC Subway Riders’ Association, but there’s no proof of this.)

Rich at fourfour found a gold mine with this one.

KISSING: THE SILENT KILLER.

Even worse /better than the clip is the actual trailer for the movie, which has a Very Intense Narrator and some astoundingly awkward shots of the father making his daughter hug him, being in her bedroom at night, and generally violating all those personal-space rules he just made for little Pamela. ONE STEP BACK, DAD, THANK YOU.

So apparently there’s a new rage in costumes you can make for the whole family from a single pattern.

This is great news, if your family is a bunch of genies.

(Um, why does the 20-year-old have a modest tummy-covering sash and the 4- and 8-year-olds are having a midriff moment? Just asking.)

It’s even better news if your family wants to reenact March of the Penguins.

Let’s hope little Timmy survives the winter so he can be eaten by a seal later, escaping the oil slick that would otherwise claim his life!

My recap of Thursday’s Eleventh Hour episode “Miracles” is up at Tor.com.

It has the best thing ever, in that the graphics department slapped a Flash Player pause-button logo in the only corner of the newspaper that was facing the camera. GREAT JOB WITH THE FILLER, GUYS.

No, seriously, go look. I screencapped that thing myself, that’s how much I am not joking. Plus there’s the clip where you get to watch Rufus google out of his own head pointing to the Flash Player embedded in his newspaper. SCIENCE!

We’re headed into Ida’s brain for this week’s recap!

“It’s like Die Hard in a building.”
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So, doing research is sometimes more fun than writing.

Behold! An amazing book of etiquette from 1891.

It’s just as awesome as you could imagine. As someone who is often at a loss in social situations (damn you, salad fork, why must you look exactly like the dessert fork!), there’s something appealing about the idea of a book of manners that everyone is expected to read and follow. Practically, I know this leads to cotillion, so I won’t wish it on anyone.

(Note: everything I know about cotillion I learned from All I Want For Christmas, in which the young Ethan Embry (nee Randall) rescues his crush from a boring cotillion and proceeds to woo her in a diner? I think.)

(Oh, that and I went to a year of middle school in Texas, where girls were already discussing their coming-outs and how hard it would be to curtsey and how they were ALREADY PRACTICING for their curtseys. I was writing X-Files scripts in ProWrite on my dad’s computer when everyone was asleep. Just saying, thanks for that year in Catholic school, Mom and Dad!)

ANYWAY. MANNERS.

Dresses are from 1880, not 1891, but by 1891 everyone looked like a Gibson Girl and it gets all upsetting.

Ladies and gents, if you ever wondered what to do with your calling cards, well, now you’ll know!
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