Saturday, May 31, 2008

8: Light in August.

The following was salvaged from a wrecked ship.

moscow moscow da da da da da da da
moscow moscow
ooooo o o o oooooo
o o o o oooooooooooooo o
ooooooo o oooooooooooooo
oo o o o o o o o
omo o omo omo oo
om nom nom nom
om nom nom nom
om nom nom nom
nom nom
nom
nom
no
om nom nom nom
om nom
nom
nom
om
nom
nom
nom
om nom nom nom nom nom nom
om nom nom nom nom nom nom no
nom nom
om nom nom nom
nom nom nom nom
om om om om om
om om
moo moo
moo
moo moo moo moo
moo
moo moo moo moo
as i lay dying
this is a log of my travals
as i sitt in the corrugated bockses of the secret garden
and my peers ponder the acuteness of the tenebrous
and the

Anyway, so.

8: Light in August.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Travels of the Evening

These are the Chronicles of the Chronicler of Desmond.

Were it said that he was once assigned a great Project, to be accomplished by the time the last leaf fell in the autumn-time, before the monsoons of India and Thailand and Burma and Myanmar and Egypt came, and swept his great work away; and did he work with other artesans, that the task might be accomplished. And did they live in many and divers locals; and did they have much trouble in communicating, for the turtles and snails that carried their messages across sea and land were very slow, and they were often slow to send more in response. And so did the Chronicler find himself labouring with only half of his group, mere days before the last leaf fell; already were the trees of the forest pale and sparse in foliage.

And did the Chronicler transport himself to a place, the home that once was the Ratte-King's, in the time of the Chronicles; and did he, with the others there gathered (a fraction of those united in the task) take valuable time to accomplish little, despite his efforts to the contrary; and did they travel to far lands to find the items they needed, but find nothing in despite of the law; and did they at last travel to the home of the Shrew-Beast, whose flesh was kin to hops and barley, wherein they hoped to begin construction.

Were there people of great age there, and strange demeanor; was there a room filled with swords, and a hidden porch filled with cigarette-smoke and the sound of gun-shots past, and a wolf-beast with pale blue eyes; and did the Chronicler not persevere in despite of all these trials and tribulations to reach the place of the construction.

And did he labour for an hour or more with his comrades, to lay the foundations of the work, to film what might be filmed; and was he menaced once more, by sword and javelin and ill-made furniture; and did he at last flee, as the night descended in full, that he might live and work another day.

Did he?

Did he truly drive through all the world on the way back, from Munich to Moscow to St. Petersburg to Vichy Paris to the Battle of Hastings to, at last, the bunker in which Hitler committed suicide in 1962, after his return from the secret Moon-Nazi base?

Probably not. Especially as there was never such a thing as Vichy Paris; the city was under direct German control during World War II, it wasn't a part of the Vichy state, oddly.

But the rest could be true.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

the day which was unto the grand domes

WHEREUPON One fyne daye I walked into the cayves of the doome, whereas I did find many bejeweled marvels, and one of them being a carving of a Nikolas-statue, from the Orient, was I reminded of my journies and travails there.


BEHOLD, yea, in the beginning, there was a journey to be betooken, and did I partake of it, and did I pack my ryucksack, and did I suffuse it with Bookes, and Provisiones, and ropes of assortements. Yea, then did I take of the mule cart, and did I take my mapp which I had procured in a curio shoppe, and did I navigate to the wayes of the far Orient, and did I arrive there, in a gated area, with liones and tigers at the guard, and did I find a cave, that was ten furlongs high, and ten wide, and did I enter. And thus was I greeted by several ladies of the Orient, being the first one the martiarch, the fountainhead, thus, being the next two the springsourse of the one, thus, the next one also being of the same persuasion, and did they possess exotic beauty, and they were pleasant, and genteel, and it was good. Thus did they unfurl themselfes at me, in a great manner, and it was good. And in the cave-dwelling were many exotick deckorations, such that were false idols of soap-stone, and those of the Orient, and it was quite opulent. 


HERETOFORE, did a man arrive, him being also a man of the Orient, being a strange and beiisare man, and possesing many modern tecknologies, and he did unfurl himself at me, and I was startled, yet, being in the land that was foreign to me, did I withstande it. Thus did I work for several hours on a spell of the nation, which would retsore civil order to the populace, and it was good. And intofore the time being that was spent thusly, did we make many jocularities, and jape, and gambol. 


Then we all had sex.

Noodle Pizza: Success!

Per this post, I proudly report and document the results.


GLORIOUS NOODLE PIZZA
AT LAST, AT LAST, PRAISE BE, AT LAST


Om nom nom nom!
I used Penne and fresh-grated cheddar to make the pizza. Probably too little cheddar.


David's pizza slice. I provided noodles (and cheese) as a side - if people wanted them in addition/in place of the pizza proper - and both Kelsey and David chose to put them on the pizza. This slice was the worst - three layers of noodles. David had a hard time fitting it in his mouth.

[there was a photo here, but David hates the sight of his own face]
[so]
[it is gone]
[but you can find it without much effort or thought]
[it's cool]
[and pretty funny]

Look at him now. Aww, isn't he cute?


The dog, tragically, had no pizza. Instead, he will EAT YOUR SOUL
(om nom nom nom)

A++ would make again (though it was tricky to time)

Friday, May 23, 2008

How to live if the oceans rise

When the ocean level rises after global warming, rather than live on land, why not move to the sea? Huge plankton farms could replace corn fields and rice and then the farmland could become power fields.

Gavin

Once, there was a Gavin. He enjoyed letting others bask in his glory. Sometimes, he flexed his muscles -- but his shirt did not explode! That was because it had already been incinerated by his glory. It was a very inflammatory glory -- just like racist comments! Yet people of many cultures and ethnicities still enjoyed it. This is because they were drunk.

The World Ended With You - the first day

(prologue)

Taki arrived at the town square to find it filled with people. Most were only disheveled or half-dressed, having fled their beds when the ground shook. One couple arrived without anything on at all; realizing their error moments later, they fled, passing the last stragglers on their way to their house. The Mayor called for silence; the excited and worried babble faded into silence, and the impromptu town meeting began.

Several people described similar recollections of the event: the ground shaking, a terrible force pressing people and objects alike to the earth, a strange floating feeling afterward. Expeditions were proposed to find out what had happened - if other villages were similarly affected; groups were formed to handle the damage directly caused by the disaster. Then Taki finally managed to push his way to the front of the group, telescope still cradled under his arm.

"Mr. Mayor," he said, "I know what happened. I saw it."

He explained what he'd seen: the tower blazing light, the world rended asunder in the distance. Gasps of shock and horror were heard; but the Mayor, and the others, believed him. "It's your uncle," the Mayor said. "He went to retrieve the Sacred Stone from the tower of the wizard who stole it, two years ago - but he must have been just too slow. And now the wizard's plan has succeeded."

"It's okay, though!" said Taki. "I know what to do. Just send me to the Tower! I'll head there lickety-split, I'll find my uncle and the Stone, and together we'll fix everything."

The Mayor thought about this. He turned to his aides and consulted them. Then he turned back to Taki. "So," he said, "You're suggesting that we send a twelve-year-old boy into a vast wilderness filled with monsters and demons, after a cataclysm that split the world, to travel to a dark tower inhabited by a vile wizard, alone?"

Taki tilted his head. "Yeah," he agreed. "Pretty much."

The Mayor nodded sagely. "Don't forget to pack a lunch," he reminded Taki.

SO IT WAS, THAT THE BRAVE TAKI VENTURED OUT INTO THE WILDS OF THE WILDERNESS, EQUIPPED ONLY WITH A POP-GUN, A GIGANTIC BREATHING BALLOON, AND LUNCH. THIS WAS THE FIRST DAY OF HIS QUEST. IT WOULD END IN:

seven days.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

matthew the master of his gourd

The Second Book Of Matthew

Chapter V

1 And it came to pass that Matthew ascended the holy stepps, to Asgard, or which was like thereof.
2 And at the top there were a dozen virgins, and one more, such that it was a backer’s dozen.
3 And there were wee tables of gold, and trenches, and ditches that were wide and brow the beams, and aft were the masts and the bow, the stern, the spinning decks of the fine vessel.
4 And Matthew did look out upon the harbour, and there were many lights, for the city was a lively port of trade, and there were Moslems there, and it was good.
5 And yea, there was a fiddler, and a man who strummed a lute, and a flautist, and many percussive journeymen, and did they pound, and did they weave about, and were they merry.
6 And the merriness pervaded the vessel, such that the Men were overcome, and bubbled their mirth upon the floors.
7 And the womons, seeing them in this wild and profane manner, did become overcomed themselfes, and joined them on the floor, and there was much copulation.
8 And Matthew, seeing his debauchery, though he was a good Christian man, and respected the ways of the publick, did desire to copulate with a womon.
9 And he spotted many fine compatriotes, from similar lands, and he did copulate with them.
10 But there was one particular womon which he most depply deisred to copulate with, however, she, being the wyfe of a Moslem, and Matthew being a Christian, it would be forbidden by the ordinances of the citys.
11 Thus did Matthew stalk, and sneak, and spy upon the citizens upon the vessle, until at last he had discovered the womon which he did with to copulate with.
12 But the womon was already in the act of copulating with her husband, and Matthew saw his man-thing, and the one his own stood up proudly as well.

Chapter VI

1 However a sudden bout of illness, perhaps it was the vittles of which he had partacken earlier, or perhaps the gentle rocking and swayeing of the vessel, or perhaps he had contracted the syphillis, or the consumption, as he had previously travailed to the darker parts of the Continent.
2 And thus he was stricken to a time to the aft deck, where he nursed his bowels with linament, and oils, and perfumes, and ethers.
3 And after a while, his illness had passed, soothed by the musics of the lute that did eminate from the below.
4 Thus did the Matthew travel back to the floor where the men copulated, and he once again saw the womon with which he wished to do the same, and he copulated by himself in her general visinitie, and the womon the laugh, and jump about, in fervour, and he was much pleased with himself.
5 And thus did Matthew did attempt on many attempts to approach the womon and ask her hand in marraige, such that he may know her by laying with her, however, she, being married, would be furtive, and he knowed that she would deckline his offer, and he skulked intermittently.
6 Thus did Matthew, discouraged, retreat to the lower decks of the vessel, and he did engage in many acts of debauchery,
7 And did he sing songs, such that they were displayed on a revolving scroll, that did revolve upon its own accord, and that did create much merriment.
8 And did he drink of the horn of the ram, and with spirits of fermented grapes, and oranges, and did he take many herbes of the earth in a smoking vessel.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

The Three Brothers: Part Two of Two

(continued from)

(Please play this music to start.)


Gvamya journeyed a while; fed richly, and learned. He grew, and discovered, and then one day, at a rest-house, he opened his door.

His treasures, long precious to him but held hostage by his brother Bteth, waited at the door; as did Bteth's own. And beyond them lurked Bteth himself; body still twisted and warped by his long hatred. Alyaph stood at his side, clearly here for Bteth's purposes.

"Why are you here?" asked Gvamya. Lightning crackled at his fingertips.

(Play this music now.)


"We are here," Alyaph told him, "To party." And it was only now that Gvamya saw the bindings on Bteth's jaw, holding him separate from the speech of the brothers, had been removed, leaving harsh marks behind.

"So it is," Gvamya replied, smiling. "And I see you have, as I have, exceeded and left the teaching of our father."

"We have," said Bteth, his voice harsh from disuse. "May we enter?"

Gvamya frowned. "Alas, my hosts would ill appreciate it; I fear I cannot welcome you. Perhaps - another time?" he suggested tentatively.

The brothers Alyaph and Bteth looked at one another. "Let us travel!" they cried; and Gvamya thought a moment, then grabbed his gear; for still he felt a brother's love for them.

They travelled a while, telling tales of their separation, and Bteth's many troubles, at which the other two laughed cruelly. Their first destination was shuttered, and Bteth led them to another, access to which he had acquired; but he warned his brothers, "Enter ye not."

(Play this music now.)


Alyaph obeyed, readily and freely; but curiosity was Gvamya's curse, and despite Alyaph's best attempts to restrain him, he entered. He looked, and saw little of interest; so he continued, struggling against Alyaph's containing arms.

"Stop, my brother!" Alyaph cried. "You know this can bring only ill!" But Gvamya laughed, and broke asunder his bonds, and walked straight past the returning Bteth to the place so named taboo.

(Play this music now.)


For a moment, Bteth did not even notice him; then he turned, and his face curled in familiar rage. Charging, he tore turf and shrubs alike, blasting Gvamya to his knees with the force of the impact. Wordlessly, he smashed hammer-blows at Gvamya, missing as his brother rolled aside; and Gvamya's face was cracked in a terrible smile as he moved to retaliate, while Alyaph could only stand aside, helpless.

"It has been much time, now," Gvamya cried, raising his hands. "I remember the injuries you did me; the long tyranny, the unfair thefts and attacks. I remember it all; and yet, in the name of friendship, I forgave all that, when you made silent apology at last." His fingertips again crackled. "But this - this latest assault, without honour or humanity - this I cannot forgive - and when I strike, it is with pleasure long awaited!"

(Play this music now.)


Lightning flashed from Gvamya's fingertips, arcing towards his brother, leaving new scars on Bteth's already battered skin. The smells of ozone and burnt flesh filled the air; but Bteth's agony merely focused him further, as he held his arm before him and charged. It warped as he moved, turning into a whirling, spiked bar; but Gvamya's right arm changed, too, warping swiftly into the shape of an identical bar and locking across Bteth's as his left hand continued to blast Bteth with crackling lighting.

Bteth roared; then he roared louder, and louder. Gvamya felt his ears becoming slick with blood; he shut them, turning them into inert buds, and so never heard the high-pitched whining as Bteth revved his internal motors; the blow that followed buried him a in a wall.

"You're so certain," Bteth growled, "So certain that you're always right. I'm going to improve myself, I'm going to be better than any of you - did you EVER think what that did to ME?" He revved, and struck once. Then again. Then again. Gvamya, nearly helpless, focused; rays shot out of his eyes, cutting at Bteth's flesh, searing it for a moment; but Bteth adjusted, and felt the rays only as a pleasant warmth as he readied the killing blow.

(Play this music now.)


Alyaph said, quietly, "Stop."

Bteth paused; then, slowly, revved down and slumped to the ground.

There was a long silence, as Alyaph lowered Gvamya to the ground and tended both his brothers' wounds as best he could; but no-one spoke. Eventually, they stood; Gvamya limping, the three brothers left, continuing their travels. And though they eventually laughed again, joked, and all the other things that brothers do, still there was something missing; a gaping wound, so terribly exposed in that last fight; a wound that would not heal.

The Three Brothers: Part One of Two

(Please play this music to start.)


Once, the great artisan T. M. Raque (former pupil of I. M. Pei) became truly inspired. He descended into his underground workshops, and remained there for a month and a day. When he emerged, he appeared alone; but others followed. His creations; three machines, in the shapes of men. They named themselves brothers; Alyaph, Bteth, and Gvamya. T. M. Raque they named their father; and this role he took.

The boys grew over the years - not physically, for in all matters but the cosmetic their forms were fixed, but mentally. T. M. Raque taught them, in person and by hiring tutors; in their off-time the three boys explored, adventured, simply played. And they were at peace.

(Switch to this music now.)


But time passed; and all three of the brothers knew that, eventually, the time for their separation would come. One or another would feel the call; know their education to be complete within the bounds of their father's abilities; and would leave. All of them felt fear, for change was in the wind, change being a thing that all thinking beings fear (rightly or wrongly); but Bteth felt it far more acutely than his brothers. He did not wish to separate from them, for any reason or by any means; and so, eventually, he acted.

His first tool was subtle suasion. He spoke to his brothers, asking, pleading, that they not leave him, when the time came; that they remain together, no matter what came. But his brothers argued back. Alyaph told Bteth that it would stunt both of them to stay past the appointed time; Gvamya kindly reminded him that they would still be in touch, no matter what happened; their departure would not sever the bonds that connected them, and they would meet again, in time. Both, together, told him that they would not leave yet, in any case; but they would, individually, when the time came.

Bteth waited until his brothers left for lessons; then he waxed wroth with fury, ranting and frothing. Swearing off words, he seized adhesive and bound his jaw about six times, cementing it shut. Slowly, he came to a halt, his fury depleting, and turning to a colder thing. Then a plan fermented, suffused with bitterness; and he smiled.

(Play this music now.)


Now Bteth worked by force. He seized his brothers' belongings, working in secret; hid them away and held them hostage to his brothers' obedience. When Gvamya dared object, Bteth struck him a foul blow, laying him low; and from that point forward he commanded the brothers.

For the next weeks, it seemed on the outside all was it had been; the brothers laughed and played, and Bteth rarely invoked his power. But whensoever one of his brothers did object or defy him, Bteth struck, revealing the iron fist beneath the velvet glove; at those times his face turned sour and vicious, like a rabid beast. And slowly his appearance began to shift to match; his clothes turned dark and ragged, his face seemingly ever ready to grimace in rage. But still he held to his course, hardly noticing the changes in himself.

(Play this music now.)


Then one day the brothers Alyaph and Gvamya met alone; and, with an instant of sudden decision, they acted. They walked, slowly, away - from that place of teaching which long housed them.

Bteth soon realized. He thought to cry out to them, but could not; panicking, he ran after them, seeking to force them back. He seized the shoes off Alyaph's feet, the rations Gvamya carried for the journey; but he could not deter them. Soundlessly, he argued; but at last his coercion had no weight. The brothers had done with it; they would allow themselves to be controlled no further.

(Play this music now.)


Slowly, he slinked, defeated, back into the place of teaching. Alyaph and Gvamya smiled, spoke, shook hands; then Alyaph turned back, for he had much yet to learn, while Gvamya left the place of teaching where they had long lived. Perhaps, he hoped, Alyaph might now turn Bteth back to the light; to the fraternity that the brothers had once shared. But for him, the home of T. M. Raque was too small for him; and he must grow.

(TO BE CONTINUED)

Monday, May 19, 2008

Our Best President Ever.


Inspired by a conversation during a long bicycle ride.

Contezt:

Mssr. Taft: "Today I shall go out for my morning constitutional."

Sound effect: zzap!

Mssr. Taft: "What's this? I'm in another man's body - hideously transplanted, as though by some depraved, Frankensteinian experiment!"

Zombies: wrrooaagh (the lust for brains)

Mssr. Taft: "The moaning corpses of the dead? I shall not be deterred! Forward! Though I no longer have the twenty-five stone bulk I am accustomed to, still shall I never feel fear! Yaargh!"

Zombies: wrrooagh (pain)

Mssr. Taft: "Another victory... for AMERICA! (And me.)"

mathew en savoir

The Second Book Of Matthew

Chapter III

1 And it came to pass that there was a great carraige, that was ten-thousand cubits wide, and such deep, and along its breadth also.
2 And in the carraige there were twelve virgins, and twelve virgins more, and it was gilded with gold, that it shone in the light, and many linens were lain about the floor.
3 And Matthew embarked on the carraige, for it was to sojourn to the harbour, and because it would take several hours, so they smoked herbes and drank licquores.
4 And the men did know the virgins by laying with them, and when the carraige had arrived in its destination they were no longer virgins.
5 And Matthew did sit with the Three Wise Men, who were well-versed in the ways of the world, and one was a wissard, and the other a sword-man, and the other a corbie, and they did regale him with exotic adventures.
6 And the men who were behind Matthew were the nephew of Charlemange, and that of the Man who is Like a Fish, and they did come with fine and beautaceous womons.
7 And that did the carraige moveth, and it moveth to the harbour in a good time.
6 Thus did the men disembark unto the ground at the harbour.
8 Yea, behold, they did wait in the docks for many fortnights, and many moons.
9 And yea, they did halve their numbers of the plague, and of starvation.
10 And then did they embark on the vessel, which would take them to the land of milk and honey.

Chapter IV

1 And it came to pass that the vessel was grand, and it was twelve furlongs high, and such wide, and the same aspect along its breadth also.
2 And Matthew and his cohort did go unto the great hall.
3 And they did sit in the hall, amongst many womons, who were unclothed.
4 Thus the men did arise and go to fetch their meals.
5 And the men partook of the bread, and the milk, and the honey, and the sparrows, and the goats, and the rhinocerous, and the exotic animals, and it was good.
6 And then they did sojourn to the upper deck, whereupon there was much debauchery and violence.

My Take On: Bands

I have no idea as to why people dedicate themselves to bands. After running 7.5 miles and seeing several things that no man should see on the Bay to Breakers run including men dressed up a corn, Jewish bands, and little Bo Peep and his (that's right his) sheep (both male and female) i went to a friends house and listened to them practicing. They've all been playing for years and didn't sound that bad. After an hour of practice they had me recorded them on computer. While they got ready to play again, I ran the program through a converter to split apart the instruments and then make sheet musing out of the score. After converting to the right keys I then set up his electronic piano to sound like a guitar for treble cleft and bass for lower and had his older brother play for them. When they heard him playing the consensus was that he sounded better than they did, but that they liked playing more. Just to try it out, I printed sheet music for the first and second guitars and the bass for freebird of guitar hero two fame and had the brother play it. Compared to the actual musicians playing on stage, he sounded better on his first try.

This made me wonder, why do people like bands? A single pianist can play the same music better, with more feeling, with fewer mistakes, and can memorize the music in less time such as freebird including the solo. Inversely no band has been able to play advanced piano music such as flight of the bumble bee even though they have two more people and each only needs to play a third of the notes...

There are those who say that synthesized music lacks soul and feeling. However piano music is called the gateway to the soul and the perfect way to express feelings. Just by laying another finger on the key, a piano can go from happy to sad or angry and the same is true for synthesized instruments.

My Take: hire a ten year old Asian kid with a synthesizer to play all your music and just pretend to play for an audience and as you 'play' insanely hard music perfectly at every concert and make millions.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

MOVIE REVIEW: Iron Man

Flippin' rad!

the good bok

The Second Book Of Matthew

Chapter I

1 In the beginning, there was a Matthew, yea, he did sojourn to the house of the Nikolous, on day which was warme, and hot, and he did enter the house, and accost the Nikolous.
2 And he said unto the Nikolous: “Come, my childe, the day is hot, yea, and the festivals is imminent upon us. Let us go and find a chariout and ride upon it and find the baron Kessler and celebrate the coming of the festival with a celebration.”
3 And they found a chariout, and they took it to the eastern lakes, where many trees and flouers growed, and they entered the Chateau of the Kessler, and they accosted his guard-man.
4 Thus the guard-man retreated into the Chateau, and he retrieved the Kessler, who was without clothing, or dignitie, yea, the Matthew and the Nikolous did sheath their eyes, and their genitales, and it was good.
5 And Nikolous told the Kessler of the celebration, and he agreed most hartily, and he went and he obtained his travelling-cloke, and his hatte, and his spell-binding bookes.
6 Then the three men soujourned to the Manor of the Nikolous, and had turnip soup and bread and milk, and then they said a prayer, yea, for they were good Christians, and Jewes, and Moslems.
7 And the father of the Nikolous did give a reading from the good booke, whereupon the men did eagerly listen, and know its message, and they were much aroused.
8 And then they went into the parlour roome, where the childe of the Nikolous slept on the floor, and he was without clothes, and the men did sheathe their eyes, and it was goode.
9 Thus did the men play manners of country games, and they did make rude noises, and gestures, and argue, and tears were shed.
10 And then Matthew did leave, with the men, in seperate vesicles, and they arrived at the festival.
11 And it came to pass that Matthew arrived at the festival hall, and the Nikolous and the Kessler were in a different vesicle, and they did not desire to step in to the sunne, for they were vampyres, and goate-men, and they cried and wailed in agony when they came upon it.
12 And then Matthew beckoned them to come to the entrance halle, and he entered it, but they did not, for they were cowardes, and weak-men, and fools, and without a spine, and ashamed, and abashed, and miserly.

Chapter II

1 And it came to pass that Matthew saw many people with whom he was acquainted, and antiquated, and yet many people with whom he was not.
2 And he saw many country people, and people of the city, and those who were pleasant, and those who were not.
3 And he saw the nephew of Charlemange, with him was a womon, who was beautaceous, and pleasant, and Matthew tooke them outside to see the cowardly men who had abandoned them, and they attempted to shout, and bellow, and croacke, and yelle at them.
4 But the men who were cowardly were no longer men, for they had already been transformed into mouses, who were small, and timide, for they were punished for their sinns, as is juste, and it was good.
5 Thus it came to pass that Matthew did go back in and mingle with the populace, and much ungentlemanly behaviour was occuring, and there was debauchery, and baccanilia, and it was good.
6 And Matthwe did accost every man and womon whom he did remember, in a pleasant way, and it brought him much pleasure.
7 However, Matthew was influenced by the divel, who whispered sins and lies into his eare, and he did question the gentility of his new comrades, and he did question their fidelity, and he did begin to feel uncomfortable, and he did conteplate leaving the place.
8 And he did observe many men and womons be painted in portraits, and he did partake in several himselfe, and he did accost many womons himselfe.
9 However Matthew was still bemoaning, and discontent, for his desires for his own womon who would accompany him brought him much griefe, and he was sad, and he slached himself about the wristes, for he was emotionale, and it was good.
10 And when Matthew had recovered, to his surprize, he saw many womons accoste him, in a pleasant manner.
11 And he did drinke many strong beverages, and sprites, and licquores, and lithiated lemon soda, he felt himself better.
12 And a womon whom he had previously hitt upon for the festival did come unto him and stand very close to him, and talke with him, and said that she wished to do ta-wi-ton with him, and there was much ribaldry, and excitement.
13 And Matthew grew excited by this prospect, and his man-thing stood up proudly, however, he covered it with his cummerbund, and it was good.
14 Thus he became pleased, and he did embarke with the others unto the magick carraige that would take them to the harbour, and it was good.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Faith: The Hierarchy

(Part of a continuing series. Previous post here, first post here.)

Jared moaned wearily as he rose to consciousness. Someone was shaking him. "Whaddyou want?" he asked groggily.

"Ceremony tomorrow," the mysterious awakener told him, unseen in the darkness of the barracks in which Jared slept. "Hour after dawn. Supposed to be a surprise This junk the best set of clothes you have?"

"Yeah," Jared said, eyes only half-open.

"Get something decent. Fit for seeing the Prince," the unseen interlocutor told Jared, and moved away.

Jared rolled over and went back to sleep.

Six hours later, in a borrowed set of dress clothes, he stood in line, one of perhaps two hundred other soldiers present. They were, Jared had gathered, recent recruits into the Prince's army, now being formally sworn to his service en-masse. To Jared's right was a woman from his unit, recruited about two weeks before Jared. To his left was another foreigner, clearly so by his skin tone and accent. Jared tried to make small talk with him, but was repelled by his prickly attitute, and so turned to speak exclusively with the woman he knew.

Something about the man to Jared's left was bothering him; but he didn't figure out what before the Prince appeared. He was a thin man, perhaps ten years older than Jared (though his upper-class upbringing made him seem younger than he really was), regally dressed in ermine and silk. He gave a short speech, setting out the woes of the times, praising those who now served to defend the city-state of Ostek; then he began pacing the rows, administering individual oaths.

Jared figured out what was bothering him. He'd been issued a ceremonial, wooden sword for the occasion, as the Prince preferred not to be in a crowd of strangers with real swords; but judging by the hilt of the soldier to his left, the foreigner, he was carrying a real weapon, one that had seen action. That was odd. Why was he carrying that?

The Prince neared.

Jared nudged the foreigner, asked him about the sword. The man scowled and refused to answer. Jared became, if anything, even more curious - but he had to stop speaking. The Prince was close by, two rows away-

Jared saw a glint of metal to his left, and looked, and saw the foreigner with a loaded miniature crossbow in his hand, and acted-

the assassin's shot went wide as Jared knocked into him, grabbing for the sword in his sheath-

for moments, as they wrestled, no-one seemed to notice, and Jared had no breath to spare for a cry for help-

Jared seized the sword, got a blow to his injured side that reopened the wound and sent him sprawling in pain-

the assassin attacked Jared, focused on trying to kill him, and the sword in Jared's hand came up lightning-quick and opened his throat-

and suddenly there was noise everywhere, soldiers were running to and fro, bodyguards appeared around the Prince, the assassin was bleeding on the ground, and Jared could feel a dampness spread down his side as blood from the reopened arrow-wound soaked his borrowed formal clothes.

The Prince appeared next to Jared, looking at the assassin - who had, perhaps regrettably, become a corpse in the short intervening time. Jared did his best to explain what happened while someone else shredded the remnant of his shirt to bind his wound with.

"But who is the man?" the Prince asked, exasperated and a little bit afraid. "He's not some lunatic - that weapon of his speaks of money. Who would pay that much to have me dead?"

The assassin's body was searched, contents splayed around him. And in the mess, Jared spotted something that he recognized.

"There, your Highness" he said, somewhat hesitantly pointing. "Those coins. They're all old and foreign. But those three - the copper ones, sort of six-sided. I recognize those. They're from a place I've been, near my hometown."

"What's so odd about that?" the Prince asked.

"My hometown is in the Center of the World," Jared told him.

"Oh," said the Prince - knowing, as Jared did, just how little trade (or any contact) went between the mountains and valleys of the Center of the World and the World Outside.

The Prince stood for a moment, thinking. Then he snapped his fingers. "You," he said, pointing to Jared. "You're my new advisor. You've already shown initiative and skill. And you know something about whoever's trying to kill me."

Jared, somewhat shocked, agreed, "Yes, but-"

The Prince ignored him. "I'll expect you just after noon. The castle seneschal will tell you where to go. Come prepared."

Jared was left standing, slack-jawed, as the Prince walked away, talking urgently with a new arrival. The assassin's body was carted away.

"So, looks like you're moving up in life," the soldier Jared knew told him, tone lighthearted. "Figure our beloved Prince remembers he never actually swore you in?"

It was not, Jared thought, the first thing on his mind.

Hyperlocal Issues

There is a problem.

In the shopping center near this author's residence, there was once plentiful parking. Vast swathes of tarmac lay unclothed by metal automotives, day and night; there was space for everyone to co-exist. And it was good.

Then came construction. First one chunk of parking lot was ripped up and built upon; then another. Rather than supplying parking spaces, the areas so destroyed now required parking spaces, for the new customers they brought. And at the same time, new businesses opened throughout the shopping center, bringing new life to the area. It began to hum with activity; and slowly, the parking lot filled.

Tonight, the naturally conclusion came. The parking lot filled - cars circled endlessly, hunting for spaces - and began to move outwards. First the street leading from the shopping center, the Dark Portal. Then other, branching out from that, spreading like a plague.

A PLAGUE.

This scene did the author return to when after a refreshing trip to the gymnasium. Cars were everywhere; filling the parking lot, circling its passageways and surrounding streets - even before his own home, blocking parking for his own residence!

This is unforgivable.

With his father, he examined the problem, as men of Science will. They studied; found the extent of the problem, tracked pedestrians, noted illegal parking (revealing the extent of the woe); then they debated solutions.

One mode - no more valid than certain others, mind - that can be used to comprehend the problem is the framework of economics. Cars are everywhere because demand (for parking) has risen, and so options designed for the purpose (the parking lot) are exhausted, and consumers move to options with higher marginal costs for them: street parking.

The parking lot being full is not a problem for our purposes; we can walk, after all, so that matters not. Furthermore, it is a convenience to us to have the shopping center near; we, too, indulge in its services and purchase its goods! So eliminating the source of demand by, for instance, destroying the shopping centre with explosives, would simply not do; direct means deprive us of the shopping centre immediately, and indirect means 1) would require control over macroeconomic trends that could be better put to other purposes (e.g. personal enrichment) and 2) would probably force everything in the shopping centre to shut down anyway, for lack of demand. So we must address the problem from the other side: supply. Parking.

More parking cannot be readily provided; land/property values in the area are high, and obtaining licenses would be difficult. A simpler solution would be a localized one; raise the cost of parking where we are, and eliminate the problem for our purposes; though, admittedly, this would worsen it for others. If any cars that enter our area are destroyed, then very quickly, entry of cars into the area will stop as costs rise to "your car and, possibly, life." Furthermore, costs for towing away the ruined husks will be paid by the city! My advisors initially suggested a system of flamethrower turrets, placed around the area to cook any cars parked nearby. Considering their short range, however, it would be necessary to build one turret for every two to three parking spaces. Far more efficient would be to build relatively few rocket turrets; with their longer range and greater firepower, they would not only reduce costs but prevent motorists from simply equipping themselves with ablative shields to defeat the flamethrower turrets.



I do not, however, naively believe that even rocket turrets will last forever as a defense. Projecting current trends forward, eventually one-tenth of the current population of the United States will wish to visit the shopping centre (all else equal), and motorists seeking parking nearer than five miles away will invest in armoured assault vehicles to park in the Protected Zone, as the rocket-turret defended area will be named. At this point, we will have to upgrade to terawatt lasers, which will slice through their hulls like butter. (Investing in them initially would be a poor choice because 1) operating costs would be higher and 2) their costs would decrease over the intervening time. It's only economically sensible to buy rocket turrets first.)


Within years, one-half of the Earth's population will attempt to visit the shopping centre near this author's house on any given week, following those same trends. Vast zeppelins will criss-cross the sky, carrying ridiculously large numbers of people immense distances, to visit the shopping center. Important politicians will invest in hovertanks to park in the Incorporated Independant States of West Cupertino (as the terawatt-laser defended area will now be known), which will shrug off lasers like tooth floss. Indeed, they will have to do this to park anywhere within two miles, other areas having (logically) invested in similar defensive measures.
At this point, secret plans will be open, and our last weapon will be unleashed. Our dog, CHAOS THE DESTROYER (previously the exhorter) will go unto the hovertanks, and pee on them, driving them back. This will not last for long; but it will not need to. Shortly thereafter, the Last War will break out over access to the shopping center. Nuclear rain will fall, and everyone will die.

But on the plus side, this author will have been at least able to park in front of his house in the meantime.

Dang other motorist people.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Rice Boy

Rice Boy.

It ended yesterday.

Rice Boy is a little odd. It's a story about a journey, or many journeys. That of the main character, Rice Boy, most of all, as he travels through very, very strange lands, in search of the key to ancient prophecy. And it's the story of other journeys, too; that of T.O.E., and Golgo, and others, as they strive for the fulfillment of prophecy; some working to help Rice Boy, some against him.

And it's about what they see along the way on the journey, too; strange and weird visions are par for the course in Rice Boy. Deserted towns, rich countryside, ancient underground cities... it is difficult to describe them any better - and if I did, then, it perhaps would ruin some of the fun for seeing them yourself, in the comic.

Rice Boy is long, and raises a lot of questions along the way, about the characters, about their places they go and what exactly they seek. Having now finished it, I can say that everything that needs to be answered, is, and quite well.

Have a look! It costs you nothing.

(BUT YOUR LIFE)

BFW and TWEWY

Two games, because I know the readers of this blag do so love reading video game reviews. I can't help it, dear readers! I write what I love.


BATTLE FOR WESNOTH: Free, open-source, turn-based hex fun. Sort of like Fire Emblem crossed with Advance Wars crossed with, um, Tactics II. Comes with a number of (varying-quality) single-player campaigns, has multiplayer capabilities of some sort (haven't experimented yet), and you can doubtless download loads more stuff from the Internet, because it is, my brother informs me, 'extensible.'


Basically: hire units, have them slaughter other chaps in a turn-based battlefield, try to control villages to get more cash, and, this is the delicious bit for me, promote units into different types of units as they get kills (this is the Fire Emblem bit; well, that and the fantasy setting). So nifty. There are something like six races, without getting stuff from the 'wobs; each of them have about fiveish non-hero units, each of which promote into one to three different types of higher-level units. And then those promote too, if you manage to stuff 'em full of enough XP. Units persist throughout campaigns, if you keep them alive... it's enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Oh! And each unit has its own name, in addition to a class. So that's nifty.

THE WORLD ENDS WITH YOU: The chaps who are anywhere near me have seen me playing this rather a lot lately. Short description: It's a JRPG.
Long description: You play as a chap called Niku, who finds himself in quite a pinch; trapped in a place called the UG, sort of a shadow-world superimposed on the fashion district of Tokyo (called Shibuya), and forced to play a deadly sport known as the "Reapers' Game." Alongside a number of companions, you fight many enemies ("Noise") in a frantic, insanely fast-paced real-time battle system. Your attacks are determined by what pins you're wearing - pins which gain experience, level up, evolve (if you give them the right sort of XP, mind...). Money is gained by getting various yen-value pins from monsters, some of which can themselves evolve into higher-value pins. (I am not making this up.) Equipment (hats, tops and bottoms, shoes, accessories...) and pins alike are "branded" with one of thirteen labels, which give them bonuses or penalties based on the popularity of that label in the region you're fighting in - which you can influence by fighting battles with a lot of clothes/pins of a particular label on. You can also buy food, which gives you various benefits if eaten, but takes time to digest, and eventually your stomach gets full...

Look. It's insanely deep and really awesome and there are no random encounters (the thing I hate most about JRPGs, sooner or later), difficulty is configurable on-the-fly, you can lower your HP intentionally to increase the drop rate of valuable items... I'm rambling again. But the essential point: there are various benefits for wirelessly interacting with online chaps, especially (though not exclusively) those playing TWEWY. So: for those who are elsewhere (yo, Devin!), you should probably buy it if any of that sounds interesting, because it's pretty rad. For those who are nearby: buy it buy it I want super secret awesome stuff

Hmm. That might've gone a little off-track.

P.S.: TWEWY has nothing to do with the newest blagoseries. I just liked the title; it means something rather different in the game, and there's no connection plotwise or themewise. It was, perhaps, a poor choice of a name; but so it is.

Anyway, these games are cool, this author approves. Two stars out of a possible one.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

sju & åtta

NIKOLAS:
A PLAY IN THREE ACTS.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

NIKOLAS, a merchante from lyon, France.
NIKOLAS Jr., his ſonne.

ACTUS PRIMUS

SCŒNA PRIMA
N. Boy I bid thee goode Nighte and God reſte thy ſoule.
N. Thank you Sir you are kindlie and goode for your Compaſsions.
N. Then Anon we ſhall reſt in the darkneſs.
Exeunt.

SCŒNA SECONDA
N. Sir haue you had a weel Nights ſleep.
N. Yea, I dreamt of a great fire-bird and a dragounn.
N. Boy your chantillys are becoming the nerues of the Rhine's bankes.
N. You are quite correct Sir.
Enter the Ghoſt
Gh. Thou art the one of which is ſpeakt in towne halle art thou not.
N. Yea, it beeth true.
Gh. Then off be thy head and to the choppers.
N. May God reſte your ſoul.
Exeunt.

ACTUS SECONDUS

SCŒNA PRIMA
Enter the Ghoſt and NIKOLAS.
N. Sir I muſt proteſt this rouch action it is quite degrading to my dignitie.
Gh. Then off beeth ye head ſwine.
They fight.
Gho
ſt mourtally wounded.
Gh. I haue been a good Chriſtian.
Dies.
N. I haue clain the ghoſt.
Dies.

SCŒNA TERTIA
Exeunt.

ACTUS TERTIUS

SCŒNA PRIMA
N. O woe O woe my ſhild he is ſlaint.
In a fit.
N. May god reſt his ſoul.
Dies.
Enter the Squire.
Sq. O woe O woe my lord he is dead.
Dies.
Enter the Page.
Pa. O woe O woe the ſquire he is dead.
Dies.
Enter the Nikolas, Ghoſt.
N. May God reſt his ſoul.
Dies.

FIN.

the TRUTH

MYTH: Nikolas knows how to spell

FACT: the real nordic numbering system does not distingush between addition and multiplication. In fact there is not such distinction in real life. It was invented by reactionaries to counteract the revolution.

FACT: division does not exist. It was invented by radicals and liberals to separate man from God

Here are the facts:

There only exist the numbers Sex and Ten (oft Tin)

how many feet are in a furlong.
sex and tin and tin and sex and tin

Norweigan Numbering

MYTH: There are numbers such as "four", "seven", or "one."

FACT: The only numbers are sex and ten.

MYTH: It is impossible to perform maths in base ten with only two numbers.

FACT: It is not!

How many days are there in a week?

There are ten less half-sex.

How many days in a month?

Ten less sex by ten less half-sex.

In a year?

Sex by sex by ten and sex and sex and half-sex less ten.

See?

It's simple to do maths with Norweigan Numbers!

Join us next week, when we try fractions!

The World Ended With You: Prologue

The beginning of a new series, from the acclaimed !Nikolas!Co. To be concluded in a relatively small period of time/wordcount, for a change.

Taki, perched high in the branches of the Great Tree, looked out eagerly to the east. He adjusted a light telescope he'd set up a day before in preparation, now refocusing and panning, searching for something. Then he gasped. "There it is!" he whispered to himself, hurriedly adjusting focus. Checking a timepiece, he saw the hour: just before four in the morning. "And about time, too," Taki murmured to himself, turning back to the telescope's eyepiece. "He's cut it to the last minute!"

Through the telescope, Taki could see a dark shape, surrounded by hills: a tower. Light flashed from within, dazzlingly bright in the nocturnal gloom, pouring out from every window and seam. One beam, teal-yellow in colour, shot out of a wall; where it touched, a thick cloud of dust boiled up, visible even at this distance, even through the telescope. The tower itself began to visibly shake.

"That's it!" Taki said. "Come on, come on!" He frowned momentarily; perhaps he should not be referring to something of this serious as though it were some wall-ball game! Then he discarded the thought and returned to watching the tower.

After some time, Taki checked his watch again; only seconds left! Quickly, he returned to the telescope: and saw it.

Blue light shot skyward from the tower, seeming to writhe and twist as it leapt toward the stars. For a moment, the tower went dark. Then Taki lost sight of it as the earth shook beneath him. The telescope fell tumbling down; moments later, Taki followed it, screaming in panic as branches broke and the ground below him cracked and strained. Lying on the ground, bruised and perhaps worse, Taki lost the breath to scream or even speak; he felt pressed to the ground by some enormous weight, but could not even muster the strength to turn his head. Directly in front of him, he saw a house shake and tremble; items fell and shattered inside, and one eave collapsed.

Slowly, after some unbearable eon, the shaking stopped. Taki checked his watch; it had stopped. Then he looked up, trying to gauge the time by the position of the first moon in the sky.

The moon was gone.

Taki paused, gasping. He found his telescope, lying on the ground, and picked it up, looking at it dazedly. Then he ran to the Great Tree, still remarkably whole, and scrambled upwards, racing recklessly to the top. He was breathless and tired by the time he reached the peak, but high enough, he thought, to see something more. Setting the telescope in place, praying it had survived the disaster undamaged, he put his eye to the piece and looked to the east. Then - slowly, unbelievingly - he began to scan, making a complete circuit, then again, not believing his eyes.

Near the horizon - further in some directions, very close indeed to the west - the world had cracked apart. Not just two halves; many, some smaller, some larger. Water poured over the sides; vast clouds of insubstantial atmosphere drifted away, faintly-yet-perceptibly clouding Taki's view of the stars. He could see only what was not blocked by the earth beneath him; but that was enough for him to realize the horrific damage.

"It's the end of the world," Taki realized. "It's cracked apart - shattered into a hundred pieces, blown apart from its center by some incomprehensible force. I'm probably only seemingly okay and rational because I'm in shock."

He paused, thinking. Then he decided.

"I know just what to do," he concluded. "It shouldn't take more than a week."

He considered further, rethinking this.

"Perhaps I should pack lunch," he added.

more mathrew

The Book of Matthew

Chapter VIII

1 And it came to pass that Matthew, fearing he would not find a womon to take upon his back to the festival, hastened in his pursuits.
2 So Matthew, at the great Oratorium, whereupon he did study to be a scholar, of the economies, and he did prepare himself for the gauntlet, and he did take much violent travails, and it was good.
3 After the gauntlet had passed, Matthew, who had finished expidently, loitered outseide and waited for a womon who was also in the same oratorium to exit, for he did intend to accost her violently.
4 And the womon exited.
5 However, Matthew was summariliy accosted by a most foul gentleman, who did bide and distract him to the infernal pits of hell.
6 Then the Matthew escaped the grasp of the gentleman, and it was good.
7 So Matthew followed the womon, and repeated the same procedure on her, however, it gained the same effects.
8 And Matthew was much agrieved, and he devised a much more devious plan in his deep heart.

Chapter IX

1 And it came to pass that Matthew did hire the services of an investigator, who was a scribe at the library of Alexandria, and he did give the scribe five and ten shekels, and he said unto him: "Thou shalt go and follow this womon, who is hot, and make careful note of her behaviour, and her tendencies to follow in the affnities of Men."
2 Then he said: "And if thou find the womon be in the company of a man who is twice her age, thou shalt be paid five and ten shekels, and if she be in the company of a man thrice her age, thou shalt be paid five shekels."
3 So the scribe did go, and apply a powder to his shoes, and tie his long hair into a small shape, such that it was not swaint by the wind, and he sacrificed a goat, and he took the blood and ensmeared it upon his genitals, and he affixed a sheet of goat's skin, while it was sticky, and it was good.
4 And the scribe did go, and he saw the womon with a man who was thrice her age.
5 Then Matthew became displeased, and he paid the scribe, and then he went to his bedchambres, and dreamed pleasant dreams for a long time.
6 And he said unto himself "I shall need to find a womon before the time has run out."

Chapter X

1 And it came to pass that Matthew repeated his procedure once more again for a different womon, and she was also the same way as the others, and his constrenation was compounded by fivifold, and he did pound the ground, and jump off of walls.
2 So Matthew spent three days and three nights in the company of a womon which he had previously accosted in simialar manner, and who was friendly to him, and who was pleasant.
3 And it came to pass that Matthew would perhaps summon his own womon at the festival, and know her by laying with her.
4 And it was good.

Faith: Out of Exile

(Part of a continuing series. Previous post here, first post here.)

When Jared first arrived in the city of Ostek, he was hungry, cold, and tired. Furthermore, it was night, and the streets were nearly empty. So he made his way to an inn, paid for a meal and a night's sleep, and consumed both.

It was only when he woke that he realized the full extent of the city he had entered. From his room's window alone, he could see more people walking along the street than lived in the whole of the Beckoner village, at the time of his youth. It was the largest city he'd ever been in, a dozen times larger than the biggest town he'd passed through in his exile.

Jared whistled, impressed, then went downstairs to break his fast.

Some time later, fairly full, he left the inn, maneuvering carefully in the busy, crowded, rather smelly streets. He didn't quite know where to go, so he followed the flow of traffic, which, meanderingly, led him to a street market, filled with merchants and customers haggling over goods. Pleasant smells lifted from spice stalls, pushing back the reek of sewage and unwashed bodies that dominated most of the city air.

Walking among the stalls, seeing the prices paid even for fresh fruit and meat, Jared considered the current contents of his pockets, and decided that, perhaps, it was time to seek formal employment.

Jared's first choice was to look for caravans, to hire on as a guard. He still had his iron sword, a gift from his parents when he came of age. It was now somewhat dinged and battered, but his skill with it had, if anything, grown over his years of travel, leaving the valleys of the center of the world, traveling to a series of villages and small towns outside, fighting beasts and bandits on a regular basis. (He had considered taking up the latter trade on his own, but his conscience rejected it, despite his empty stomach's urgings.) His skill at arms had distinguished him in the Beckoner army; surely, Jared thought, it would be enough to earn handsome pay here, in the infidel kingdoms of the world Outside.

It was not to be.

Jared found two caravan leaders, one planning to leave the next day, the other sometime in the next week. Both refused to employ him: his accent was thick, his appearance unpleasant (clothes worn, hair tangled), and he had no experience at all as a caravan guard. "Go away," they told him. "We have as many guards as we need." Jared approached individual merchants next, and had no better luck. Dejected, he moved away from the caravan gathering area where he had made his last attempt, and considered taking a menial job. He had been very hungry, in the wilderness, and the improvement in his conditions (and finances) that accompanied his trade in meat and furs with rural villages had been scant indeed. Jared had lived that life when it was necessary; but he would prefer not to do so again.

As Jared left the meeting area, he felt a touch on his back. He whirled, half-drawing his sword, expecting to see a youthful (and incompetent) pick-pocket behind him; but instead he found a dark-complexioned man standing there, one hand upraised, the other on the hilt of his own sword. "Good reflexes," the man praised Jared.

Jared looked at the man, surprised. "Why do you approach me?" he asked.

"The name's Robert," the man told him. "I'm a recruiter for the Prince's army. Times are tough, and getting tougher; bandits popping up like weeds, rebel armies gathering in every city. You look like you know what you're doing with a blade."

Jared nodded, still confused. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good with this language. Was that an implication..."

"I'm offering to recruit you into the army of the Prince."

"What's the pay and duties?"

"Ten copper a week, twice that if you stay on for a full year. You'll probably be part of the Fifth, in a small unit sent to fight bandits and thieves."

Jared considered, then nodded. "Done."

"Go to the barracks at the corner of Cooper's Street and the Royal Avenue," Robert directed him. "Tell them I sent you."

Jared was very amused, two days later, when he found that his first duty was to, in a unit with more experienced soldiers, escort a caravan, in the hopes of using it as bandit-bait. The caravan-master pretended not to recognize Jared when he joined the caravan, along with the other soldiers; but he offered a belated apology after Jared proved himself in combat, fighting bandits who struck on the day before the caravan was to finish its journey by returning to Ostek.
Jared accepted the apology, lying bandaged in a wagon in the rear of the caravan. An arrow had struck him in the heat of combat, putting a nasty slash down his side, though thankfully missing anything vital. As the caravan rolled through Ostek's gates, after two months travelling to and trading with distant towns, and one day after the bandit attack, Jared considered, his wound already healing quickly, life as a soldier for the Prince might not be so bad. Then he sniffed, and as the smell of Ostek washed over him, he amended that with, if I can get out of the city again soon.

Sir ur get

We should stop looking at information on the "yard"

it scarred me

and then

my eyes exploded

they flew upwards 100 miles

into space
then
past space

and then they went to

space spain

where they encountered

space juan

and

they gamboled

and jambled

and discussed matters of the heart

and

the yard

Once upon a time where was a womon who had sex with nbikolas , nikolas senjoyed this he kloves in in face and that tok it yp the Arse
hymnal

But then came the Censor, who was much aggrieved. "Who is it that doth use such rude terms and concepts in My realm; such crudity and profanity as might befoul the reputation of a Goat!" And with a flaming sword that pointed each way, he did strike down the infidel, reaching out beyond reality itself to end its life.

And then, having completed its task, having avenged the insult against its dignity, its self, its digestive tract, the Censor flew unto the heavens; and he did commune with the remains of Nikolas's eyeballs, sitting at a too-small table with the eyeballs, Space Don Juan, and a pair of salt and pepper shakers.

Then the Shakers appeared, and

they did not have sex with
a penisssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssddsï
F¨¨CK
THE F¨ççKING END

Sunday, May 11, 2008

mathew thaint

The Book of Matthew

Chapter VI

1 And it came to pass that Matthew resided in the great catacombs for ten fortnights, and ten fortnights more, and his beard grew to a great length, that was 10 cubits across, and his coat grew ragged once again.
2 And Matthew, once again wishing to encumbre a womon to attack at the harvest festival, and he did venture into the sun light once again.
3 And when Matthew stepped upon the holy stones, at Babylon, and hung himself upon a vine, and saw the landscape, he saw many pleasant womons bathing in the lakes of the region, and he was much aroused, and he felt his horn expand, and it was quite uncomfortable.
4 And he pleasured himself upon the vine, and the womons saw him, and they were much offended.
5 And Matthew, fearing that he would lose the affections of the womons, did descend, and he removed his beard upon a scraping-wheel, such that his chin was exposed, and he did tan himself with the sun's light, and he did change his appearence such that he was not recogniseable.
6 And Matthew went to the bathing place, and he decided to accost a womon whom he had seen many times before, and who was acquanited with the technocracies of the modern age.
7 This womon was indeed pleaseant to the eyes, and to the noses, and the fingres, and Matthew, who apprecieated this fact, decided to accost her verily.
8 So Matthew sojourned to the womon-cubicle, whereupon he delivered his wordes.

Chapter VII

1 And it came to pass, that Matthew, seeking to impress the womon with his command of the technocracies of the modern age, did perform a mating call that was smooth, and clarion, and harmonious, and good.
2 Then he said unto the womon: "Come, and rest in my shelter, and we will know each other by laying together, and produce many childrens, such that we may know them by laying with them, and then attach yeself to a rope of waxen linens, and take ten bottles of strong drink, and we shall go to the festival."
3 And the womon, much bemused, and yet amused, did say unto Matthew: "Thou speakth of much pleasant ideas, and pleasurable deeds, yet, I, who has not forseen the future, nor consulteth the Oracle at Nikolsusath, cannot release my nubiliuty upon thee."
4 And Matthew, much embarrased, left the mud-cave, and he screamed a terrible death-wail.
5 And then he took his beard from the scraping-wheel, and he burned it in a funeral pyre, and he took his bottle, which he had soaked in leaves of the plant which grows by the river, and he pressed it to the orifices of the womon, and she was asleeped, and paralysed, and Matthew saw that it was good.
6 But Matthew could not bring himself to know her by laying with her, as he was not a violent man.
7 Thus instead he took a goat, and slaughtered it, and offered the entrails upon an altar, and ensmeared his hands with the blood, and he emsmeared the body of the womon with the blood, such that it spelled a message in the Cannannite alphabet.
8 And the message said: "Sibile: You were raped, by the Djinni"
9 Then Matthew took his loin-cloth, and his gourd, and he fastened it to his genitalia with a cord, and he took his brief-case, and he left.

William Henry Blake

I will tell you a story.

This is the story of a man named William Henry Blake. He was born as a baby. This is detail that the history books wouldn't give you! It is valuable information - information from the source.

There was a man named William Henry Blake. He was born as a baby. Later, he became a toddler. Then he was a child. Actually, he was already a child when he was a toddler. But there was a point at which he was a child and not a toddler. There's a distinction, there.

William H. Blake was born in a small country. Today, we call that country India. But in his time, they called it Inndia. Remember that. It's important.

There was a man named William Henry Blake - or Willy B., or Woolly B, for short. We called him that because he wore many overcoats, in the summer. They were wool, you see. Also, he stung people to death, with his stinger.

Like a bee.

There was a man, called William Henry Blake. One day, James B. - or Jamie, or Jack, or Jacko, or Jack-be-nimble, as we called him - was stung by Woolly B.. It stung! It stung like crazy. He had to go to the hospital! Then he died! It sort of sucked.

Around this time, there were a lot of monsters. Some of them looked like men. But they weren't! Sometimes, they even called themselves men. But they weren't. They were monsters!

Woolly B. decided that we had to get rid of the monsters, because James B. had died. (This was after he died.) So he got the posse together. Once we were all gathered, he told us that we should deal with the monsters. This was generally agreed upon.

Then a man in a white robe and hood appeared! We thought he was a ghost, the ghost of James B.. (This was after he died.) Then he told us, the posse, that we should go kill some black people. Not monsters. Then it turned out he was a member of the KKK! Then it turned out he was a monster! A giant preying mantis! He lopped poor Annie's head off. Then Woolly B. stung him, and he died.

Then a dragon appeared. It was a monster, like the preying mantis, you see. It breathed fire! Most of the posse caught on fire. Then they died! Some of the posse didn't catch on fire, but they looked at the ones that were. Then they caught on fire! Then Woolly B. killed the dragon.

It was hard for me to see. I was hiding between a tree, which was on fire, which itself was on fire. The fire was on fire, because the dragon had breathed fire on it, so it began burning. It was hard to see through it.

So Woolly B. killed the dragon. He was alive, because he was made of asbestos (that's why Honey B. died - she breathed some of it in, then choked to death, of cancer), so he didn't die when the dragon set him on fire. And I survived, because I was hiding behind the tree, which was on fire, which was on fire. I went to greet him, and, feeling comradely (as we both had survived the battle), he gave me a hug. Unfortunately, he was still on fire. So now I was on fire. I ran around screaming, then, luckily, I was attacked by a swarm of bees. They caught on fire, and so I was no longer on fire. (They sucked it off. Like a towel.) So everything was okay.

Then Woolly B. went to me. "We killed the monsters," he told me, "And now everyone's dead. Perhaps we should go home, to Inndia." (Remember, that's what he called it.)

So we did.

That's... um. That's it.

Yeah.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

more amourous adventures

The Book of Matthew

Chapter III
1 And it came to pass that Matthew, who desired a womon to take with upon him in a burlap satchel to the harvest, did go and accost many fine young virgins at the fountains.
2 And the virgins saw Matthew, and they were not pleased by his appearence, nor his manners, nor his unkempt pouches, nor his fettered robe.
3 And then Matthew attempted to approach one, and assault her, such that he may abduct her to his dwellings, and restrain her, such that she would be attached to him by a great rope at the festival.
4 But the Matthew, being a coward, and not of the correct disposition, did not carry out his plan.
5 So the Matthew retreated to his hovel to prepare himself once again.

Chapter IV

1 Thusly it came to pass that Matthew did undertake upon himself the preparations of the accostment.
2 And thus Matthew wrapped himself up in a loincloth of sheep's skins, and took upon his genitals a great horn that was long, and hollow, and smooth, and he fastened it upon himself with a length of cord, and it he saw that it was good.
3 And then he took the juices and the powders of the berries that were red, and those that were blue, and he crushed them upon a stone, and he wetted it with water, such that it became wet, and a paste.
4 And he took his paste and he rubbed it upon his face, such that he became as a great bird with red and blue colourings.
5 And then he went into the forest and he collected herbes that were strong of odour, and of chymicals, and he burned then in his hearth-pit, and he inhaled of the odours, and he saw that it was good.

Chapter V

1 And it came to pass that Matthew did approach the place of the virgins again.
2 The womons saw Matthew, and he was indeed pleasant to the eye, and to the nose, and the tongue, and they licked him vigourously.
3 And Matthew, deriving much pleasure from this, elongated his genitalia.
4 However the horn which constrained it prevented him from the embarrasement he would otherwise suffer.
5 And thus Matthew did take one of then aside, and covered her orifices with a bottle which had been soakes with the leaves of the plant that grows by the riverside, such that she was paralyesed, and in a sleep, and it was good.
6 And when the womon had awoken, Matthew did ask her about the festival, however, she, being a good and nubile womon, was already the third wife of a powerful Assyrian and Phonecian man, and it was without use that Matthew did accost her.
7 Thus, Matthew, being sad, did retreat into the Library, at Alexandria, and confine himself to the paryrus carvings.

In the Dark, Part Nine: Denoument

(Yes, it's been a while. Sorry! The previous post was here, the first post was here, but there's a plot synopsis as part of this one, so you might be okay just reading it. Your call.)

I sat first at my own table, my back to the decorative fireplace. The Councilmen sat next: Mario, accompanied by a pair of bodyguards, and Adrianus, with his own men. I spotted a gun on one of them, hidden (poorly) beneath a coat. My own flechette gun was loaded and holstered. I didn't expect to have to use it here, in a meeting with Councilmen, but an ambush on the way home seemed, at the time, quite likely.

The Tyrant sat last, across from me, beginning the meeting. "My agent," she said, nodding to me, "Has informed me that your presence is required for the preservation of the Città del Profondità. As duly elected Tyrant, I have exercised my right to summon any citizen of the City for its own preservation."

"A right you will maintain," said Mario through gritted teeth, "Only so long as you may prove its necessity in every case. I have been given no justification for this summons!"

This was my moment. I cleared my throat and spoke. "If you'll listen a moment, Your Graces, you'll see I have every reason to bring you here today. It's a long story, but necessary."

"Over the last two days, I've been investigating a plot to blow up the city. After finding explosives placed in such a position that, if detonated, they would destroy the city, I was attacked by a group of thugs, seemingly assigned to guard the bomb. I then investigated further, consulting both of Your Graces, the office of the Tyrant, and certain other sources in an attempt to discover who placed the bomb. While investigating, I was attacked again, by Councilman Adrianus's own guards, and later by two other people, separately, each of whom escaped after failing to kill me."

"That's the outline. Now, there are two questions that come from this; two crimes which must be answered for. The first: who is trying to kill me? And the second: who set the bomb?"

"The immediate assumption would be that they are one and the same. After all, I found the bomb and was investigating it. But the attacks didn't come immediately. I had time to travel to the Tyrant's office, talk to her, go home, change clothes, and travel to Councilman Adrianus's residence before I was attacked. There was a reason, therefore, that I was attacked only after I met with Councilman Adrianus, and only until I'd awoken and managed to tell the Tyrant what I'd learned from our discussion. Someone didn't want me to tell what I'd found out. And my conclusion, at the time of the discussion, was that His Grace was innocent. I was attacked to put blame on him. After all, if I were killed after meeting with him on the case, killed after an attack by his own guards, suspicion would immediately fall on him. Councilman Adrianus wouldn't have attacked me with his own guards, not then. He has subtler tools. Logically: he did not launch the attacks on me. Can we agree on everything said so far?"

The Tyrant nodded. She was just listening for form. I'd already told her all of this, just before the meeting. It was the Councilmen's agreement that mattered.

Visibly reluctant, Adrianus nodded. He didn't like the bit about "subtler tools", I was guessing, but he wanted himself cleared of the attacks. I was more worried about Mario. But he, too, agreed, finding no way to object. I continued.

"I'll come back to the attacks later, but for the moment I want to talk more about the bomb. Actually, about the thugs guarding the bomb, because they're the things that bugged me since I started investigating this case. Where did they come from? Who paid them? And why were they there?"

"It took me until the end of my investigation to learn the answer to the first two questions, but the answer to the last one is obvious if you just think about it, as I realized somewhat later. If they'd actually been ordered to guard the bomb, they would have been inside the rim, with it. Standing outside, not only were they conspicuous (which, as a side note, started the entire investigation), but they wouldn't have been able to guard the bomb from any maintenance worker or smuggler who decided to use that particular part of the rim, and entered from outside. It's unbelievably idiotic for the thugs to have been there; unless their purpose wasn't to guard the bomb, but rather to reveal its presence."

"The bomb was never intended to destroy the city. It was planted in a suspicious place, conspicuously guarded, and left there to incriminate someone else. The thugs, and their positioning alone, reveal that, though I suspect that if we checked the bomb carefully, we'd find that all or most of it was doped, harmless."

"It's obvious that the bomb came from the Franks. No petty smuggler would be able to bring in that much in the way of high-grade explosives. Odds are, their ambassador made the same offer to our traitor that their last one made to an undercover agent: blow up the Città del Profondità, and they'll make the traitor rich. The Franks eliminate us, and the traitor becomes vastly wealthy. But the traitor decided to take it one step further; he betrayed the Franks, took their bomb and used it to frame someone else, not to blow up the city."

"The first the ambassador heard of this was shortly after I discovered the bomb, about five minutes after I called the office of the Tyrant to inform them of what I found. One of the thugs, a man named Alex, had survived the attack on me. I spoke to him, though not for long; but then he vanished." I had to be careful here. It was important that Mario had imprisoned and interrogated Alex, but I couldn't admit that I'd been poking around his dungeons and impersonating his sheriff. "Someone, probably one of the Councilman Mario's guards (who are, after all, responsible for the district), found him lying on the ground and took him away. Quite quickly, he found out about the explosives, and panicked. Rather than going through His Grace's chief sheriff, who had (unbeknownst to his employer or subordinates) been bribed to quietly ignore any reports of the thugs or the bomb they guarded, the guard contacted His Grace directly. Around this time, Councilman Mario would have also heard my call for reinforcements from the Tyrant to investigate the bomb, exercising his right as Councilman to monitor all communications from or to his district. He, too, panicked, and not thinking too clearly, called the Frankish embassy, and warned the ambassador to run. We know this last because the embassy's phone lines are tapped, so we have a recording of the call."

"This would be incriminating at first glance. It's entirely possible that whoever tried to frame the Councilman planned for that reaction. But we already know that the traitor had sold out the Franks. Why would he then warn them? There is absolutely nothing for him to gain, and after details of the case became more clear, the Franks would have every reason to kill him to prevent testimony about their attempt to destroy the Città del Profondità."

"There is, however, some question as to how Councilman Adrianus knew that the ambassador fled immediately after he did, when speaking to me. He told me that the ambassador had left for a "family emergency", and pointed to Councilman Mario, among others, as a friend, naturally arousing my suspicion of that latter worthy. But a friend, however close, would be unlikely to be told that the ambassador had left; he was fleeing from incrimination and voiding of his diplomatic immunity! He would have told no-one that he'd left until he was already safely away from the city; except, of course, his co-conspirator, who could give evidence on him, and would need time to escape."

I grinned tightly. I'd touched a nerve. Continuing, I told the group, "This is not conclusive evidence, of course. Neither is the fact that Mario's mint could not make the coins that filled the thugs' pockets, while Councilman Adrianus's is one of the few that could. But the fact that, if found guilty of treason, Councilman Mario would be unable to bid when the geothermal vent powering the Città del Profondità gave out, and you, possessing the rights to the second-nearest vent, would be almost certain to win the rights to power the city for the next ten years, and the ensuing wealth... why, I do believe that's means, motive, and opportunity."

Adrianus stood suddenly. His bodyguards stood moments later. "I've had enough of this nonsense," he told us. "You have no right to detain me here, no proof. I'm leaving."

My hand crept toward my holster. Still sitting, I told him, "As a member of the Tyrant's Service, I hereby place you under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason and mass murder. If you resist arrest, I have the right to use any means necessary to bring you down."

He froze, then bolted for the door. His guards went for their guns.

I drew first, firing my flechette gun even as it came out of the holster. One guard lost his face; the other fell, bleeding. I tossed aside the flechette gun, its single shot exhausted, scrabbled behind me on the fireplace's mantelpiece and picked up the gun I kept there. I ran for the door, vaulting over the front desk. Adrianus had already made it to his limousine, gasoline engine roaring. It began to pull away as the chauffeur revved the engine, too slowly. I aimed quickly from the doorway of my house, fired two shots. The limo accelerated; then, suddenly, it braked with a horrific screech and stopped. The passenger-side door opened, and a body fell out. Then the door slammed shut again, and the limo fled.

Councilman Adrianus was dead.

I went back inside, walking slowly. I kept the gun in hand as I re-entered the back room. Councilman Mario and his guards still sat there, having done nothing during the brief fight. Neither had the Tyrant.

"Is he dead?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Enough confirmation of his guilt. As a traitor, I hereby confiscate his land, putting it and all his possessions into the custody of the Crown. His seat on the City Council will sit absent until a suitable replacement is found."

Mario started up, enraged. "You can't do that!" he shouted, furious. "It violates every principle upon which this city was founded!" His guards had gone for their guns when I entered with my own in hand; now they stood, one leveling his weapon at me, the other aiming at the Tyrant.

The Tyrant, seemingly unfazed, smiled. "Do you really believe that?" she asked him, mockingly.

Mario said nothing.

"I know you tried to kill me, Your Grace," I told him. "You'd subverted Adrianus's guards beforehand. You'd probably been working on it ever since you realized that the contest for the next geothermal vent would be between you and him. You hadn't realized that he was responsible for the bomb, but when I went to visit him, you decided to try to frame him for it. It was a perfect chance; and what a coincidence, that he was actually guilty!"

"You have no proof," Mario snarled.

"No, I don't," I agreed. "Nothing but circumstantial evidence. That's the only reason that you're not in the same position Adrianus is. So right now, you can walk away, scot free."

"As long as I don't object to the confiscation of Adrianus's estate," he growled.

I nodded, said nothing.

He thought about it for a few moments, then, looking like he was chewing lemons, agreed. As he walked out the door, he whispered in my ear: "You and the Tyrant you serve, you've been accumulating power, for the last fifteen years since we foolishly created the position. There's always some "emergency", some reason to keep holding elections every year, to keep putting in a new Tyrant. But each one only lasts one year; and one day, one will slip up, and the Council will take it all back."

I smiled, nodded, waited for him to leave. Then I turned back to the Tyrant, who had stood by now. "He really doesn't know," I said to her. "That each Tyrant is carefully briefed and provided with all the support we can muster; that the bureaucracy behind you has been working to preserve the sole piece of democracy in this corrupt city. He has no idea. I don't think any of them know." I sighed. "I still wish I could've nailed Mario today, though. The slimeball."

"This was a great step forward, though," she agreed, "We've finally seized a seat on the City Council. I'll probably be able to open it to public election after we get the evidence to take Mario down. The more shortsighted Councilmen, which describes most of them, will agree that attacking a Tyrant's agent is intolerable, especially with the Franks still working against us at every turn; and they'll lose just a bit more power." The Tyrant stood, walked to the door. "Will you be coming with me?" she asked.

"No," I told her. "I've gotta make one call first. There's a man, an informant named Jack, the one who started me on this case. I think he deserves some thanks."

This concludes In the Dark. Sam Black, the Tyrant's best agent, struggles on.

Friday, May 09, 2008

The Chase AND the Night of Terror

(In roughly the same continuity as this.)

"He's gone mad, Dr. Kelseg," Mr. Feinberg (no longer of the civilian sector) confided to his fellow assistant. "The poison of the Dankek tribesmen has twisted him - turned him into some manner of madman!"

Dr. Zweihander hooted and capered, holding aloft a heavy pack in the air. He seemed to be taunting Mr. Feinberg.

"And what's worse," Mr. Feinberg continued, "He has taken my pack, which contained many valuable instruments for my trade."

"Your trade?" Dr. Kelseg inquired.

"Why, assassin, of course," Mr. Feinberg clarified. "The others are safely stored away at one of my seven domiciles."

"One apiece?" Dr. Kelseg asked.

Mr. Feinberg waved his hand. "More or less. It matters little. We must return to the matter at hand: the madness of our employer, Mr. Zweihander."

"It occurs," Dr. Kelseg sagely noted, "That you are possessed of a bicycle; that, even now, you are mounted upon it."

"Your point?" Mr. Feinberg asked, not impolitely.

"Could you not simply ride him down, and thereby reattain your possessions?"

"Immaterial. A superior plan is mine: to wait him out, allow him to tire himself, and then strike when he is weary and slow."

Dr. Kelseg shrugged.

It appeared that in his maddened state, Dr. Zweihander had some odd fear of Mr. Feinberg. Upon his approach, the Doktor would flee consistently; running back and forth, screaming and hooting animalistically. For a time, Mr. Feinberg ran him ragged in this manner; then the Doktor wisened up, positioning obstacles between himself and Mr. Feinberg, circling around them as he did. The two assistants exchanged a knowing glance; then they moved in, attempting to seize the Doktor through use of a pincer manuever. The poison lent him a beastial strength, though, and even as Mr. Feinberg rode to Mr. Kelseg's rescue, Herr Doktor broke through his arms and escaped.

The two led a leisurely chase. They walked, or in Mr. Feinberg's case bicycled, slowly along in the Doktor's trail. They would occasionally spot him, prompting him to flee, running as they ambled along behind him, chit-chatting on small matters.

At last they lost him; but he had left Mr. Feinberg's pack behind.

"Most curious," Doktor Kelseg noted. "What does it mean?"

Later that night, Doktor Kelseg related the discovery to Doktor Zweihander. "And then!" he exclaimed, laughing, "We thought you had dropped it!"

All three laughed uproariously, only to be shushed. "Quiet!" said the elderly woman behind them. "The third act is about to begin!"

The curtain rose, and the opera resumed. All three, Doktor and accomplices, sat back in their seats, returning their attention to the stage. Still, Doktor Kelseg could not restrain one last comment: "Surely," he confided to Mr. Nicholas, "You will agree that the bicycle would have simplified things rather, had you simply pursued him with more vigour at the very start!"

Mr. Nicholas shrugged sheepishly. "Well, perhaps," he admitted. "And I wouldn't have had to use the needle!"

Doktor Zweihander glared; it was, after all, he into which the needle had been stuck. Yet in the end even he was forced to grin, considering the situation in new light. The three relaxed, enjoying the rewards of a hard day's work.

A grand adventure all around!