I have echolalia

I was reading the dictionary the other day (shut up) and came across something very interesting, at least if you read Harry Potter. If you don't, carry on, there's nothing to see here.

The meaning of Draco's name has always bothered me, in light of Rowling's usage of "symbolic" names, and I say "symbolic" in quotes because, well, I can. They're not very bloody symbolic at all, what they are is bloody descriptive. So Draco means dragon, but where Sirius is obviously connected to the dogstar and someone was probably killed by the weight of "symbolic" irony in "Remus Lupin", Draco doesn't seem to have very many dragon-like qualities.

However, Draco was also a 7th century Athenian lawmaker, known for writing the Draconic code, a very strict code of laws. And I kind of wonder if that's not what she had in mind. Considering that this is a woman who pulled 1950s slang for marijuana users (Muggles) out of somewhere, I don't think it's too far fetched that she either had that in mind or, more likely, was informed of it sometime between books five and six.

Draco's a lot more Draconic in Book 6, particularly at the end there - when he's unable to do the thing he's supposed to do and he's telling all the reasons he will do it. The code he was raised with, the code of family, is the overriding concern, where in the past saving his own skin would have been the thing that motivated him.

I hate that I devote any time at all to trying to make sense out of the bloody canon.


In other news, RL intervened, but ding dong the book is dead (Hello, dyslexia, I'd like to order a due date of 9/12, to be considered 9/21 until further notice, kthnxbai) and the weekend it is long and someone on the list is on vacation, so tomorrow is the perfect time to do that introduction post. That I promised, like, a week and a half ago? Jeez, it may well have been before Katrina. Because I suck.

Oh, and I really, really, really, really hate the fact that I love the money and resume cred I get for proofing These Fucking Books. Because dammit, there is nothing I hate more than reading 400 pages of ELFY MARY SUE ELFY MARY SUE ELFY MARY SUE!

It's like The Littlest Elf. And it makes me want to die.

Oh fuck, I have to pay my car insurance! *zooms*

PSA

I AM DEFEATED BY AUTOPAY.

I CEDE THIS FIELD OF BATTLE AND WILL NOW DRIVE HOME, A GOOD FIFTEEN MILES AWAY AND THEN BACK, A GOOD TWELVE MILES, TO PAY MY BLOODY CAR PAYMENT BY CHEQUE BECAUSE THE FUCKING CAR INSURANCE COMPANY HAS NOT BLOODY UPDATED AND I DO NOT OWE THEM $176.00, THANK YOU, BUT I CANNOT PAY WHAT I DO OWE BECAUSE THEY DON'T TAKE PARTIAL PAYMENTS.

Fuckers. Stupid goddamn internet, stupid goddamn internet bill pay, stupid goddamn car insurance, stupid goddamn me for thinking that in this age of debit cards I could leave my chequebook at home on occasion because nobody takes fucking cheques!

On the brighter side, I paid the phone bill. I am so fucking broke.

ETA: This is not my car insurance payment, this is getting the post office to recognise a change of address form! That's what it is! Except not! But it's that game! That one game! That Douglas Adams game! lord_javac, what the fuck am I talking about?

*puts down the crack*

But yay I remembered to fax in my timesheet before I left! I write all this shit down and then I forget to do it.