For the Futherance of the League

We're splitting up. Some of us have already left; the honorable McGhie, for example, or our auxiliaries Mr. Ure and Mr. Dalton. They're gone! We of the CHS League-ites hardly contact our separated brethren any-more.

And now the same may happen to all of us. Mr. Zhang is off to Dartmouth in a matter of months (presently in Japan); Mr. Fischer and Mr. Phung are going somewhere, I think, though I don't properly recall where. I myself am traveling into the distant and exotic South; that is, UCSD. Mr. Higham will likely stay in Cupertino; but that makes him the only one of us that will, to the best of my knowledge. We will be separated, each man from the next; and should we follow the same behavior we have before, our League shall fall to dust and ashes, a thing of memory only.

This is not a desirable outcome!

Therefore, it is my suggestion that we find some tool for unity, to bring us together as we found ourselves so readily in the height of the League, when each of us attended CHS. My thought here: some web-game, communal project or entertainment (or both), to be entered into by all of us, and provide us with a common context for communication, and a frequent reminder to do so.

I can't think of a good option off-hand. The MMO is the obvious thought - something like Maple 'Quest', for instance? - but I am not the biggest fan of the "grind". I might enjoy some PBEM diversion, a Civ game, for instance, or maybe chess; but I think I may be alone in that.

Let us discuss the matter by e-mail - that our sacred union shall persist evermore.

Ho!

The Diaries of Sir Arthur McKinsey, cont.

It appears that it is quite important for men of good-will to warn others to "Prepare yourself!"

Repeatedly.

How startling.

The Diaries of Sir Arthur McKinsey

Diary Entry on the afternoon of August the Twenty-Fifth, the year Eighteen Seventy-Four Anno Domini.

Today has been absolutely splendid! I woke up this morning fresh and early, breaking my habit of lazy slumbering which I have (deplorably) acquired of late - this early rising being due in large part to my brother, the honorable Chaplain McKinsey. We enjoyed gentlemanly entertainments together, being in part composed of playing a game of our own devising in which one alternately assembles blocks into specific shapes, and then shatters them. Quite entertaining, if I do so myself - in this manner we occupied ourselves for the better part of the morning. The hours entirely flew by - each time I looked at my pocket-watch it seemed another had passed. Remarkable, and quite beneficial to my mood.

I had two meetings scheduled that day. The first was from a young lady named Erie (spelling uncertain - Aerie?) - not Erin, as I had been informed. She worked for an organization connected to my brother, in a manner of which I was uncertain, and was here to be certain that my brother and I were well accomodated in our current dwellings - being unused to the style in which we now lived. We assured her that all was well, my brother in his own taciturn manner, myself somewhat more verbosely, as is my own habit. She was scheduled to be here for forty-five minutes - I showed her around the place, further assured her of our comfort, and kept her for no more than twenty-five. Certainly, though, she was a very pleasant guest, and if I were to see her again it would be nothing less than my delight.

For some hours I occupied myself with readings on two subjects of which I had recently become interested - M. Dean's 'Real Life', an illustrated diary, and M. "Elemental" (a pen name, I'm sure)'s investigation of the 'Undying'. Both quite occupying, in their own ways, and enough to keep me busy until the third strike of the hour, at which time I ventured to the restaurants nearby - there having made another appointment.

There was some uncertainty in the arrangments, those having been both casual and nonspecific - I was unsure at which establishment I would find the lady with whom I was to meet. Therefore I was glad to see her on the street, perhaps looking for me as well! After a moment's deliberation, we went together to some Eastern establishment - "Yoghurtland", it was named, and she seemed more familiar with it than was I - and spoke while she supped outside. (My own stomach was full, having cooked a lovely batch of broth for the luncheon shortly after the departure of M. Erie.)

Our conversation may have disappointed my lady-friend - she had mentioned that she believed in horoscopes, her own for the day predicting a conversation that began superficial and ended deep - the latter a condition that I think never truly applied to the one we had. Still it was lighthearted and fairly entertaining. Largely it focused on the lady's choice of employment, she having presently found lawful work in the employ of "Pier One", to her delight, though we strayed to other topics as it suited us. Among them were the subjects of books - she mentioned that she read works of the fantastical, of which I have quite a collection, and that she presently was quite low on things to read. I suggested that we retire to the residence - it being but a minute away by foot - and she agreed, finishing her 'yoghurt' and taking her carriage over.

Upon arriving, I gave her a tour - with the pets she was delighted, as was M. Erie, though her affections focused more on our hound, CHAOS, then had the earlier guest. The garden impressed her, though I will admit that my horticultural knowledge showed some weakness - still I was able to identify and locate many interesting plants for her entertainment. She met my brother, briefly, entered my library (also serving as my bedroom, for lack of space) to select books (of which I found her many quality selections - requiring of her an address, that I might reclaim the books when the time was ripe) and meet my beloved cat, who looked at her with disdain, as is the nature of a cat.

She had claimed that she must return when the clock struck four - this being that time which she had promised to certain others - but later demurred, and played that game of blocks which I mentioned earlier. She found it entirely delightful, to my own satisfaction, and seemed neither overwhelmed nor under-. When she left, books in hand, all was perfectly cordial between us.

Quite a lovely day - and still a crocodile-party awaits! What more could be asked for?

chandler

poem 1

nikolas lay in his tee-pee, rain without, pouring through the smoke-hole on the top, and drenching him in amber bead

then the northern lights descended from the heavens where they danced, and they entered through the smoke-hole, and they became a form

a figure of a young girl, and she came unto the nikolas, and she lay with him, and the night fell, and the lights went back up into the sky

and his son came unto him, and he threw him unto the river, for he was a heathen, and the river washed away his sin, and he cried

and the child came unto the ocean, and it washed into the valley, and it became the earth, and plants sprung from it

poem 2

then the nikolas went unto the great oracle, at the mountain, and the oracle spoke unto him, that he should go unto the forest, and kill a deer

and take the blood of the deer, and rub it into the earth, and eat the flesh, and to plant a gourd where the blood was, and to raise the gourd plant

and when the gourd was grown he must take it, and cast it into the heavens, such that they receive it, and fill its hollowness with heavenly light

and that he take the gourd from heaven, and crack it, such that the light spill it unto the earth, and he mould the light in the form of a man

and the man will be his son, and his name was chandler

i'th'wilderness with'th'womon

i was dance
in the wilderness
but
there were trees there
they o'ercrowed my spirit
so
i went to a grove
by which i mean
a clearing
and what should i find
but a table
so i sat down
and ate lunch
and then
i danced from atop the table
and i saw
a womon
swinging
from tree to tree
and i called out to her
but she swung away
i do not know whether she avoided me
or simply didn't notice me
but
i was distraught
nonetheless
nevertheless
i pursued her
but
i could not keep up
so
i ventured in another direction
and found
a deer
and i asked it
"how are you"
and it said
"i am well thank you"
and i asked it
"how might one go about escaping this wild
and it replied
"that way"
and pointed
with its antlers
toward the grove
i thanked it nonetheless
because
it is the polite thing to do
and i went back to the grove
and set up camp
and made a fire
and the womon came to the fire
attracted by its light
and we sat
and ate
and drank
and slept
but not together
for that would be uncouth
and when i awoke
she was gone
and it turned out
that the exit
from the wilderness
was at the edge
of the grove
so
i exited
and that
was the end
of that

once egg

once upon a time there was a antelopes and there was a moose and a San Francisco and  ayour plans for Japan.

And miniature giant space hamsters.

21:09

And the colour ecru.:09

and 

and they all had sex

background

the story of nikolas

nikolas was born to a poor blacksmith in london, 1802. as a child, he loved to make swords from the iron runoff of his father's shop. one day, he saw a giant tyger which had escaped from the zoo, and he smote it. from that day on nikolas was a hero

the story of kessler

in a small village in rural cambodia whence the guerillas came and took the fight from them, the young mr kessler rallied the troops and he fought back. commanding an army naught ten by ten, he single-handedly decimated the forces of the general.

kessler time

WHEN DO YOU KNOW WHEN IT IS KESSLER TIME

LYRICS BY NICHOLAS FEINBERG

PERFORMED BY NICHOLAS FEINBERG

*** oh, when you frolick through the fields ***

:

*** and you see, at your side, a magnetron ***

:

*** and suddenly, unbeknownst to you, it emits ***

:

*** a laser beam, that heats your body ***

:

*** bodyy-ay-ay-ayyyy ***

:

*** that's when you know ***

:

*** you gotta gotta gotta ***

:

*** gotta lotta ***

:

*** kessler-time, o-oooh, kessler-time, o-o-oo-ohhh ***

:

*** ooo-ooo-oh yeah ***

AND THEN WE WENT AND BLEW UP HIS HOME WITH A ROCKET

（;゜ロ゜）

m. nikolas a dit à moi qu'il y avait une femme qui a été chaude, et peut être chouette

et matthew dire:

attend

d'accord

je promenais dans la rue, quand j'ai vu une feuille sur la terrain, et j'ai le demandé, 

« pourquoi vous êtes seul? »

et il a répondu,

« je ne suis pas seul actuellement »

´°_°`

mumbai

Faith: On High

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

The expedition set forth four days later. There had been a delay; the Baronet von Erik had been sent forth with half the Prince's army to crush a small peasant uprising in the north. He returned a day later, triumphant, albeit bloodied by a peasant unusually skilled with a spear. A leech tended his wound, but it was minor, "barely a scratch"; so with Jared, Evelyn, the Prince, and two companies of Ostek soldiers, the Baronet traveled towards the mountains at the Heart of the World.

The journey was easy and short; the land between Ostek and the mountains was flat, though trails and settlements grew sparser as the expedition came closer to the Heart of the World. The Baronet estimated that they'd reach the nearest pass within ten days of their departure; after eight days of travel, they could see the pass, rising above them into the distant peaks.

That night, as the expedition's leadership sat around a fire, eating, Jared broached a question that he'd been wondering about ever since they set out. "Your Highness," he began (speaking to the Prince), "Why are you with us? You are the Prince of Ostek!"

The Prince responded quickly, but without anger. "This is essential to the future of my city," he told Jared. "The unrest and outright insurrections that have troubled Ostek increasingly already have begun to impoverish the people and drain valuable resources from the kingdom. If they continue - or, worse, intensify - Ostek will be in deadly danger of collapse. And here you present me with a means of identifying the source of the troubles and, at a stroke, destroying them? This attack will destroy the Beckoners and save Ostek, if all goes well - and I could not miss it if I wished to. It is my duty to be here, now."

In the morning, the Baronet von Erik approached Jared in private, speaking to him quietly and fiercely. "The Prince is a man of action," he explained to Jared. "When he sees that he should do something, he does it - bam! - like that. He saw that I was a good soldier, that I led my men well. Bam! He promoted me to Subcommander of the Royal Army - then, later, Commander and Baronet. The same with this, now - he saw a problem, and he acted to fix it. He is a great leader, I think - probably better than the Emperor of the West, who is old and degenerate maybe. He leads Ostek well, and even I, who have no loyalty to the city, follow him because of it. He does things right, and when he sees he has made a mistake, he corrects it, nearly always."

"You really believe in him," Jared said.

"I do," the Baronet agreed. "You should."

On the day before they entered the pass, a scout went missing. von Erik decided to delay their departure from camp, and sent other scouts out to search. But they returned by an hour past noon, with no sign of the missing rider; reluctantly, they marched onward, leaving the missing scout for dead. No signs were left in their camp to show where they had gone, lest others find them; the expedition was, despite its size, nominally secret, and no announcement had been made in Ostek proper of its destination, for fear of spies.

The pass was narrow and long; they arrived at it at midday, due to the previous day's delay, and still were more often in darkness than in light, as long shadows from the surrounding mountains covered them. Jared was nervous, as was most of the expedition; the land was barren, and every turn seemed a likely ambush location. Most of the soldiers, Jared noticed, kept a bow close to hand as they rode; Jared followed suit.

They made it out of the pass without any loss beyond a pack mule, which broke a leg and had to be killed. Just beyond, to their surprise and joy, was the missing scout, bruised and haggard but still alive. He had been pursued by heavily-armed bandits, he explained, and had lost his horse in the escape. Food and water were provided him, and the Prince and his niece interrogated him on his experience; they emerged certain that the "bandits" were mercenaries in Beckoner employ. Still, the mood in camp was optimistic that night.

From this point on, Jared knew (for it had been agreed earlier, in the planning stages) that it would be his responsibility to navigate to the Beckoner valley. In the short time before the expedition set out, the Prince's agents had been unable to find any reliable maps of the Heart of the World; Jared himself had traveled through them only in Thera's service and, later, in his exile, and was by neither particularly well-prepared to lead the expedition. Still, he knew the tongue of the land, assuming that non-Beckoner villages yet remained; he would ride at the head of the column, doing what he could.

On the morning after the expedition left the pass, Jared crested a low ridge, coming into view of the valley they'd entered. He cursed and ordered the column, "Back! Back!"

Horses came to a halt, men piled up, many cursing themselves. The Prince rode up, asking Jared, "What is it? What did you see?"

They approached the ridge on foot, the Baronet and Evelyn with them. Jared leading the way, they looked over the top carefully; and they saw what Jared had spotted with such trepidation. A vast camp filled the valley, smoking from a thousand camp-fires. Within walked men of all cut of armour, made tiny by distance; eating, sparring, talking. "Are these the Beckoners?" the Baronet asked, astonished. "There must be ten thousand of them - twice that, maybe, four times!"

Jared shook his head, his face grim. "Those are mercenaries."

They retreated to their horses, talking as they went. "Your leader let mercenaries into her land?" Evelyn asked. "I thought she was manipulating events indirectly, anonymously."

"I thought she was," Jared admitted. "I suppose it's more convenient for her to deal with them en masse, though she's probably still not speaking to them in person. Also - now that I think of it - few nations would welcome such any large gathering of mercenaries, but there's a lot of unused space in the Heart of the World, waiting to be put to Beckoner use."

"Do you think we can get past them, strike at the Beckoners as planned?" the Prince asked.

"I doubt it," Jared and von Erik said in unison. They exchanged smiles, and von Erik continued, "They certainly have scouts out - the Beckoners watching the mercenaries, and the mercenaries watching each-other. We'll have to go back, find another pass."

"Could we pass as a mercenary company?" Evelyn asked.

von Erik thought about it. "Maybe," he said. "We'd probably have to destroy the emblems, somehow get new uniform of some sort... my men are too disciplined and well equipped to easily pass for mercenaries" - this said with no little pride - "but if we had time to prepare, we might be able to infiltrate their camp."

"Do you think this is the only such camp?" Jared asked, suddenly; and this none of the others could answer.

The company circled, turned to depart. A lieutenant rode up to von Erik; the latter's face grew tense with fear. "Two scouts have vanished," he told the Prince, with Jared horseback nearby. "I fear the worse. I think it's time for us to make our exit."

The Prince agreed, nodding. The column began, unevenly, to move, back towards the pass it had traveled just a day before. von Erik rode up beside Jared, confiding in him for a moment. "I would have liked to go back for the missing men," he said. "Had I more men - or were the Prince not here - I would have risked it. But I haven't the manpower, and the risk is far too great. I only wish it were otherwise."

Jared nodded, feeling sick to his stomach. It was not a choice he would have ever liked to make.

Signs of pursuit became ever-clearer, as the long day went on. A rear scout reported back, quiver of arrows half-empty; he'd skirmished with a pair of mercenaries, wounding one and escaping injury himself. Another scout reported a large dust cloud, just over the horizon from where he rode.

The pass crossing was even more nerve-wracking, under such conditions. Night fell; still the expedition rode on, hoping to make it to the other side before dawn. von Erik had suggested sending the Prince and his niece ahead; both refused. The soldiers' morale, hearing this, rose noticably. Still, everyone seemed worried, on edge. Some reported seeing strange lights on the mountains, flickering dimly in the distance.

A sudden, rising rumbling noise was all the warning Jared had. He looked down first, slowing and trying to calm his horse and looking for signs of earth-quake; he thought to look up only too late. A shower of rocks and pebbles hit him, sending him reeling, clutching eyes and chest; then something larger hit him, and he fell screaming into oblivion, joined by a chorus of others.

Jared woke slowly, in agony. It took him several minutes to shake off a covering of scree and rise; every part of his body seemed to be bruised and lacerated. The land where the pass had been was covered in loose rocks; bodies lay beneath them, some concealed, others not.

It took Jared hours to walk through the entire disaster, from the rear (where he'd found himself, allowing his survival) to the head of the column. There, he found two bodies, close together; the Baronet von Erik and the Prince of Ostek. Both were headless; cleanly decapitated, by a blade, not a rock.

Filled with guilt and grief, knowing that he had led the Prince into this trap (unknowingly), Jared's eyes filled with tears.

Then he heard something odd. Still pained by his injuries, Jared began to dig nearby. He found dead horses, ignored them; found soldiers, bodies broken and necks slit; then found another. Hidden beneath another corpse, Evelyn lay covered in blood, her right leg pressed beneath a boulder. And, unlike anyone Jared had found since the disaster, Evelyn was still breathing.

Jared resolved to save her.

dairy of a kessler 2

day 2

hot

sunny

je marchais dans la rue vieux et je regardais d'un ordinateur grand, et j'ai l'utilisé pour voir des sites sur l'internet. donc d'abord je suis allé à le livre de la visage, et j'ai remarqué que une femme chaude m'a demandé que je devrais devenir son ami, mais elle était comme ci comme ça chaude, peut être pas d'en fait. et puis j'ai essayé parler avec lui, et j'ai vraiment dit des choses à son mur, mais, c'est probablement le "bavardage". alors je essayais parler sur la messagerie instantanée de l'amerique-sur-le-ligne. même actuellement je veux dire quelque chose à lui mais je ne peux pas. parce que il y a deux raisons. premièrement, je suis trop peur des femmes. secondement, elle n'est pas sur le ligne, au moment où j'écris ces.

wow, ce s'est avéré mieux que j'ai pensé, je n'ai pas dois utiliser le dictonnaire autant que j'ai pensé ce soit.

diary of a kessler

day 1

sunny

je me suis réveillée le matin, et puis, subitement j'ai trouvé que je dois souvenir la classe de conduire les voitures. donc j'ai me brossé les dents et mangé la petit déjeuner et j'ai fait les choses autres. donc quand je suis arrivé à la classe j'ai trouvé qu'il y avait des femmes chaudes, et j'ai essayé blessé sur elles, mais je n'ai peut pas. et puis j'ai écouté à une chose de la psychologie. c'était interessant. 

je suis allé à chez nikolas et j'ai parlé brièvement avec lui. il jouait une joue indépendant. donc comme j'ai téléchargé le firefox 3 mais ce n'a pas fonctionné correctement.

the bar

And Nikolas, who was the son of Kessler, and a shepherd, and a flautist, and a spell-binder, did go unto the surface of the Earth, and he hovered about its land forms, and its waters. And it came to pass that Nikolas did see a womon on the Earth, and she was of a form that was pleasant, and he did desire to have dialogues with her, and to arrest her in the town square, and to know her by lying with her, and to bear children with her, and it was good. And it came to pass that Nikolas saw her once while she was in the chapel, praying, and he did steal her address, such that he may come unto her dwelling, and stone it with stones, such that it collapse. And thus he did such that. And it came to pass that the womon, who was without home, did seek shelter from the monsoons, and she did go to the home of the Nikolas, which was paved with gold, and silver, and orichalcum, and she did ask the master of the house to rest there, for she was weary, and sore, and pale, and ill. And the Nikolas did say unto her that it was permissible, because she was a Christian, and she was grateful. And in the course of the night did Nikolas go into her bedchambers, and did he soothe her body with oils, and lineaments, and balms, and she was saved from death.

And it came to pass that the next day, the womon did decide to sojourn to the oasis in the desert, such that she may drink of the elixirs, and be entertained by the performances of the troupes, and in the course of which did the Nikolas accompany her, thus did her husband, who was a merchant, from the Aegean sea, and did the priest Matthias, who was of the good faith, and did they ride in a large caravan, and it was good. And thus did they arrive, and did they sit at one table, and were they served many liquors, and liqueurs, and it was good. And thus did they enter a dialogue of worldly matters, and it was good.

More About Video Games

More games should be like Lego Star Wars.

There is SO MUCH depth in the game. Play it through in story mode (parodying the movies), play it through in free play - probably repeatedly - with different characters - six levels per episode (one to two of which are lame vehicle levels, admittedly), six episodes, plus extra levels and bounty hunter missions and alternate modes (challenge! SUPER STORY!) and stuff at the level-hub proper...

Goals, too! Try to collect all the various things - minikits (which give cash and gold bricks and nifty little space-ships and stuff), red bricks (which unlock cheats for purchase), blue bricks (which... just give cash, I think?), gold bricks (which unlock extra levels and maybe something else)... then there are characters and other crud to buy at the shop... everything folds into everything else, part of a beautiful whole. And that's not even counting the achievements in the 360 version!

Then, of course, there are the flaws. The camera - more deadly than any enemy - capable of killing - repeatedly! - without reason or cause! The ridiculous length of some levels! (Actually, that's probably not a flaw.) The vehicle levels!

The original vehicle levels!

Man, though, it's pretty fun.

Torrenting Civ IV, because it seems like the simplest way to deal with the poor broken thing. Time remaining: 1 day, 23 hours. (Downloading at 13 KB/s.)

(That's not very fast.)

I haven't been writing enough about the League on the Leagueblog. This isn't my personal twitter!

Corrections will be made.

Kelsey in the Land of the Cacti

Kelsey leapt upright. "No more!" he cried, vorpal sword held up-high. "Your Jabberwockish ways must end!"

Then he woke up. "It was all a dream!" he cried.

Then he woke up.

A Kelsey did not know how to drive. This was true! It had to be rectified.

So he went to a class!

There were girls there.

It's okay.

Kelsey has lightning bolts coming out of his eyes!

When he came home, he got chocolate AND a carp.

Yay for Kelseys!

RSS

I think I might read too many webcomics.

Then again, I'm pretty bored - what with being slightly sick, with a scratchy throat, fever, sweating... my enervation presses me to consume, not to create, in contrast to my current activity, I suppose. (My thoughts on the matter being somewhat inspired here by Cat and Girl, which sells shirts in Isselandic. Which, in turn, is awesome.)

I'd guess I read around forty webcomics. That's pretty impressive! Wouldn't be able to do it, weren't it for RSS - I used to keep them all in my head, but that gets rather tricky with forty distinct URLs and update schedules. (There were some that I started reading a while ago... wish I knew what happened to those.)

(Oh, yeah, I should read Malakhim.)

(Oh, yeah, Malakhim is WEIRD. Maybe later. (were there an RSS feed, it'd be easier to remember!))

I worry that I read too much, and create too little. Just a consumer, grazing along like a sheep, never doing or thinking anything original.

That might be going a bit far.

I feel bad for the blag. Summer's started, and nothing's being written. The blag should be having adventures too! Going on water-slides, skateboarding, kayaking... all the cool things that summer-people do! Why shouldn't the blag be able to join in?

Kelsey's doing Driver's Ed, apparently? I'll talk about that next.

On CD-Checks

I've heard of problems with them for years. "Grr!" people say. "I hate all this copy protection! This anti-piracy stuff! I lose my game CD and then I can't play, even after I've legitimately bought and installed my game! Grr argh!"

I felt some sympathy for those people, but there were other arguments that were more persuasive for me. After all, I'd never lost my CD - not really, not for any game I gave a flying dang about. (I think we have something like three copies of Diablo II. I don't know why.) Anti-piracy protection not really doing ANYTHING to stop piracy? Sure, that's a good reason to hate it. Anti-piracy protection being nearly impossible to uninstall (even after you uninstall the game it came with) and cooking people's disk drives? Yes, that's bad, certainly.

But now I'm looking at my perfectly lovely Civ IV installation, yearning to play... with my Civ IV original disks lent to my aunt (for reasons that really do make sense, I swear!) and expansion disks mysteryvanished. I've been toying with the notion of downloading "cracks", but they seem like a pain...

Grr! Argh!

Microphones

I got a microphone. (Well, actually, my brother got it for me. Very kind of him!)

$5. That indicates quality.

It seems to randomly, intermittently, break. Just stops working for about twenty seconds. Rather odd.

"Computer products built to last," the motto on the base reads. "Last until it gets out of the store," my father quips. Aptly.

Its employment directly led to the creation of this picture.


That's easily worth purchase price, obviously.

The Parakeet Flies at Mid-Day

Its wings trembling, the bird slowly ascended, feathers blowing away in the stiff winter breeze. Its colours were gold and silver, glittering in the dim sunlight that penetrated the dark clouds above; snowflakes slid off them, shattering on the metallic vanes. Shivering with cold and discomfort, the bird pressed onward.

Two dozen years had passed since last such a bird had been seen in the area; but still some remembered. Old conflicts reignited; old men ran to get guns and traps, others to fight them, defending the bird. For the bird was named Theorus, and he was mighty.

When Theorus was first forged, in the Age of Smiths, he was a lesser thing; smaller, weaker, cruder, a product of less refined techniques. They killed his creator, and fought over him, to re-learn how he was made; but he fled. In the Age of Steel, he was caught, and re-made in finer form; but then he fled again, and the site of his rebirth burned in flames of jealousy and avarice. He has rusted since, his workings (under their precious-metal coating) growing old and fragile; but still he flies, even in winter, for they built him that well.

Some (many!) think that when he is captured, we will enter a new age; Theorus will be rebuilt again, even better than before, and the world's metalworkers will leap forward once more. "Why do you flee?" they call out to the bird. "Come down; it's for your own good!"

Theorus does not believe that history is cyclical.

On Bollywood

This is an actual movie I saw a large part of, at a place known to some as the "Bombay Garden."

There were utility workers, four of them. They got in a truck. Then there were people dancing - a man dancing with a woman, with a dance line (well, two - one for men, one for women) behind them. Sometimes they were in a mountainous meadow; at other times they were in front of a large, classical, building, or in a garden, with a tree, and a pond. (I think this was all in a military base.) The woman sang, noting that she was "trapped in the net of love," and (further!) "dancing to the rhythm of love." She seemed slightly concerned about this, but her smile was unfading.

There were military men. They accosted the utility workers as they entered the base, then let them through. (The workers appeared repeatedly earlier, driving to the base.). Then the soldiers approached the dancers, and then (I think) began to dance. Two officers appeared. They may have been some distance away, at some point. One informed the other that there would be "fireworks for his birthday." The latter officer looked toward a nearby hill and, indeed, saw fireworks. Then he took off his hat and passed through the dance line, surrounded by overjoyed soldiers and... um... dancing people.

Then the utility workers walked along the side of some mountain-meadow thing. Not the same one, I think. There was a power tower, but they didn't seem to care.

This was a real thing - and the lyrics "I'm caught in the net of love/I'm dancing to the rhythm of love" recurred throughout.

Bollywood.

The Yellow Sky

The sky was broken.

My first thought, on seeing its sickly yellow flat pallor, was that it was some end-of-the-world, alien-invasion, doom-foreboding omen. I dismissed this, rationally; then, to confirm, I went outside. To the west, the sky seemed normal; a sunset, red and pink, not spectacular but not unusual. But elsewhere - elsewhere! Some sort of clouds seemed to fill the sky - not fluffy, not white, but yellow and flat and ugly. Soot, perhaps, something from the fires to the south (I thought, later) - they refracted the light, turned it yellow and deadly, turning our backyard, the street, everything this terrible yellow. I told my brother - with difficulty weaning his attention away from the game, he exclaimed in alarm at seeing the sky, suggesting I photograph it. I did - but the camera adjusted, and showed nothing amiss. (Extraordinary! - to manufacture something unable to capture the bizarre! Unless you tweak the settings, I suppose.)

So I write of it here, to say what I will soon forget. (Unless it persists, in which case we will all have greater worries.)

the woe of nikiolas

ok so like

if i was languid and/or evasive, and/or withdrawn

it is because it may or may not be awkward

and i have no skills about how to talk to womons

and i feel awkward because i never had a womon for a friend to talk to

and i want to hang out and some such

because it is fun

but like 

i am afraid to ask

and like ask for her fone number and things

because it sound like i hitting on her

but like

i not

except i sort of 

but i not

actually

and like i had bad experiences with womons that think i was hitting on them

like

they hate me

now

and like

they were really nice to me before

and now they hate me

but like

i may one day

in the future

but i probably wont

On the Field of Battle

Weapons and armor clashed around them. Arrows fell like rain, blotting out the sun. The French knights fought bravely, even recklessly; but the mud slowed them, leaving them easy targets for the English longbow-militia; trained and able to pierce even the thick French armour. Without support from their own archers - left behind in their mad charge - the flower of the French knighthood were no match for the English army. By the time they reached the English line, fortified with spikes to stop the French from overrunning the English position, the French were already half-spent; they would not win the day.

Two met on the field; one English, one French. They exchanged sweet words; the one gave a missive to the other, from a friend, long separated from the other by necessities of war. Then, as the French retreat was called, they, reluctantly, separated again; not to see one-another until peace came again. The Frenchwoman called out, asking that they should meet again, should speak by some other means; the Englishman could only shrug helplessly.

And that is the tale of our graduation practice.

The great letter

Once there was a paper, in a house, a kessler-house, and it was as white as the blizzards that come in the winter-time, and pure ass snow, and it was ten furlongs wide, and twenty deep, by the by, and it was as crisp and soft as the bark of a sapling. And there was on the same continent, five thousand leagues away, in the forests of siberia, a womon, who was pleasant, and fair, and good, and wholesome, and pure, and rambunctious, and the men of the house of Kessler did desire to have her, and to know her by laying with her. However, she, being the wife of another man, who was the prince of the caspian, and who commanded an army that was four-thousand men strong, and the house of Kessler having an army of but three hundred men, thus he was not able to mount an attack. Thus the men of the house of the kessler did take upon the great paper, which was a national treasure, in the hopes of persuading the womon through the delicate persuasion of the written word. Thus they took the greatest scribes from the counties, and the provinces, and the letter-composers, and they composed a great treatise that was long, and florid, and verbose, and perfunctory, and pernicious, and it was good. 

And when the treatise was written, and artfully folded, such that it was compact, and ready to be posted by the continental post, and thus it was transported by the mule-cart to the depot of the central Nikolas station, whereupon the taskmaster Nikolas sat at his booth. And the men of the house of Kessler said to the Nikolas, "O ye who is wise, and well versed in worldly matters, o, ye who hast hitteth upon the womon of the forest, who hast stroked the flesh of the maidens in the garden, who hast lickt the tender features of the sylphs and the nymphs, deliver unto us, thine humble slave, thusly, the proper way and addresses and the post-protocols, such that we may thusly attempt to lick her fancy as well, in the manner of gentlemen." And the Nikolas was moved, yea, he did deliver unto the letter his seal of approval, and he fashioned a pouch of the hide of a goat, such that the letter may be folded unto it, and he marked the outside of the pouch with seal of the house of Nikolas, such that it be premium post, and he sealed it with wax seal, and it was good.

And the men of the house of the kessler departed, and they drove the mule-cart to the station to be posted, yet they were cowards, and they could not post it, for they were fearful of the womon, and her husband, and his armies. So the men retired to their bunker, played cards, smoked cigarettes, drank whiskey, and retired to the bedchambres. 

Zatzat

I've been doing some writing work elsewhere. This may be amusing.

of History

There's this guy who lives in a village, right? He has a lot of friends, And they all grow up. And they all left to different places, except for one guy, He just sorta sat around in the middle of the village. and some came back, for a visit or forever, and and they told their stories to the guy who didn't leave. So one of them had been a farmer. And other had been a destroyer captain. And one more traveled to the stars. Eventually they'd all come back, except one. The guy in the village grew lonely. There were no more stories being told. And he waited and waited for the next one to come home. The others died or left and still he waited. And thirty years, thirty long lonely years, of waiting the last one came. And the guy asked him, surly were you gone so long? "You were the closest, only a mile away, and yest, you did not come until now." And the last guy leaned close and whispered, in his ear. And they guy who had stayed whithered away, or he had been planted forty years ago to listen to the stories of that generation and not, his purpose fulfilled he asked, and all that remained was his bark, covered with every story he had every heard, And the last guy wept, for he had loved the thee more than any of the others. To keep it alive those many years. THE END

Sex

sex sex sex sex

sex; sex sex sex sex sex, sex, sex.
sex sex sex sex sex sex

sex

sex
sex
sex
I have a cat but it is okay she is tasty
It is okay

Love
(sex)

Gomorrahea

So the man was happy. He had no homework. He was going to graduate, much like a cylinder. Then he had to go to practice. It was very boring. He was bored! Like wood. Then he spoke to a girl. He spoke in the manner of a gentleman. He told her a story of a puzzle in which the second answer was right and the first was not. And both were pleasured.

When it was over, he went visiting! And he grew tired, and weaker :( He went home and drank water, but still he was tired! And feeble. Soon he realized the truth. He suffered from an ague caused by the angry hand of God. "I should not have spoken so lasciviously to the girl!" The boy thought. But it was too late!

Then he died

THE END!

Womons: A Comic Book (by request)

Even Further Adventures on the Night of the Eighth

Further Adventures on the Night of the Eighth:

From after the last post!

21:49 ----: has he calmed down?

21:50 me: Mostly.

He's reading the illustrated Old Testament.

Looking for naked women.

"Why does the Bible have so many sexual images?"

"Holy crap, that woman's almost naked!"

Etc.

21:51 "Is it wrong that I'm trying to look for porn in the Bible?"

21:52 Hm, now I've riled him up again.

Oops.

"Now he's going to tell all the womons and they're going to hate me even more than they did before!"

Now he's trying to commit seppuku with a pencil.

He's really not very good at this.

---

22:09 me: Should I give ----- Ms. ---'s phone number?

I'm not sure if she'll mind.

-----: Probably not.

I mean, probably shouldn't.

She didn't give it to you to pass out.

He can always ask her for it himself.

That would be the couth way.

22:10 me: Okay.

He has been informed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa," he replies.

[heavy breathing]

[sigh]

[lip-smack]

"NO! NOOOO!"

-----: Are you sure that you have placed the correct number of a's there?

me: (That sort-of mixed with an "aargh" noise.)

-----: Could you be off by some in either direction?

OK

me: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Maybe.

[heavy breathing]\

22:11 [sigh]

"Argh"

"I tried to ask for her phone number, but she told me I would have to not meet a loser before she gave it out to me."

"And then I asked if I could, you know, and she was like, maybe, in one million years, in a month, and then I said "OK."

-----: He's so making that up.

22:12 me: "And then I got in my time machine, and then I traveled in time, and after all that time she still said no, and I was like "Screw that."

-----: Damn. Harsh.

22:15 me: "Yeah, I'm going to call her right now."

"Ring! Ring! Ring!"

"Hello?"

"Is this the residence of the womon?"

"Oh, bye."

"boop boop boop boop boop boop"

"Ring! Ring! Ring!"

-----: Banana phone

me: loop once

loop twice

"Oh, hey!"

22:16 "I'm doing okay."

"Oh, really?'

"Yeah, sure."

"Right now?'

"Yeah, 'kay."

"Yeahyeahyeah, that sounds fine."

"Yeah, I'll pick you up.

"

-----: ...

me: "see you, bye!"

"yeah, I have to go now."

me: "So, she said that, like,"

"She said that we should go to a movie"

"And maybe afterwards, I could come to her house, and we could, you know"

22:17 "With the music and the atmosphere and the alcohol and the bedroom"

me: "I look like some kind of uncouth scoundrel!"

22:21 me: "The hour is late. The crow calls. The moon calls me out of the shadows."

22:22 "The mist curls out of the citadel's battlements as the lone knight howls of the night's pitch blackness announcing the call of the something from the here into the future."

Dang it, he speaks with too much haste!

22:23 Reflecting, as he left:

"You know, this would have been funnier if we were both drunk at the time."

Brian: Like a crystal sphere.

me: "Also, if we were smoking marijuana."

"OH WAIT, WE WERE!"

Brian: I wonder if anyone could tell the difference.

22:24 me: Thus I shall end the second transcription blagopost.

And sleep!


And so I did.

From the Night of the Eighth

IT BEGINS:

21:09 me: Sir, the honorable Mr. Zhang, your arch-nemesis, has a message for you.

It follows:

21:10 hello

End message.

Have a lovely evening.

----: hes my arch-nemesis now...?

me: Ever since you stole his love away!

21:11 I don't actually remember which one.

He has ever so many.

Perhaps all of them.

21:12 ----: i don think it counts as stealing if i never had them ._.

me: He brands you a "pimp".

And says you "flirt with all the womons".

As I recall.

That may not be an exact quote.

21:13 ----: ------'s just wondering why he hasn't been talking to him

me: He is now spinning around in circles.

----: her*

me: Agonized.

------?

Oh, now it got worse.

Anyway.

Am I privileged to know who "------" is?

----: david knows

me: "My life is undone," he cries.

I have revealed his best-kept secrets, you see.

21:14 It's not abating.

"Why? Why?"

Now he's attacking my chair.

"Lies, lies!" he cries.

This really isn't helping.

21:15 Oops.

(that was "sincere")

21:16 ----: whats going on again? ._.

me: David is outraged.

I have revealed his secrets.

He roars and weeps in rage and fear.

It's really cool.

I wish I had a mike.

----: i don't think i caught them ._.

but if you say so

21:17 me: "I must commit suicide," he says.

After sticking his fingers in a power strip, he complains "It's not working."

I can't stop laughing!

21:18 "He will undo all my plans."

"He has magical powers, you know."

(This referring to you)

21:19 ----:
er...

me: Then he failed to commit seppuku with a styrofoam bopper-stick.

Oh, right, "He won't let me live this down."

That was the bit after "magical powers".

This is prime stuff!

21:20 I think he might object if I recorded it.

Let's see!

21:22 "Any memory of me is a part of me..."

"And if that part of me is corrupted, then I am corrupted."

"I'm not Marlon Brando!"

"But I'm trying to be because my shirt looks like his."

21:23 "So that's why I'm trying to talk like him."

(He was sort of growling.)

----: growling...you say

me: This has "all" "been" an "elaborate hoax."

(yeah, totally)

"No, no, get rid of the quote marks!"

"Ah, the pain! Oh god! Oh god!"

"noooooooooooooooooo"

SO AWESOME

21:24 The memory thing was relating to how he feared that your "slander" of him (i.e., truth) would "corrupt" ------'s memory of him.

And thus him.

I think.

It's pretty weird.

----: i think i lost you, but okay..

21:25 ------ says that david is nice to her though

me: Okay.

I'll let him know.

It'll only make things worse, though.

----: hm

me: Yup, there he goes again.

----: if it would, then...

....nvm

me: See, know he knows that you know that... something about ------...?

"Ow, my balls!"

Don't know what started _that_.

21:26 I think he injured himself.

"Ow, god, hit it again!"

He really shouldn't crash about so.

"Why do I keep hitting my balls?"

21:31 "he is as a god among men."

"He has a power"

"A very strange power but a power nonetheless"

Then he cut off when he saw what I was typing.

This was referring to you, for reference.

----: i see ._.

21:32 what... is he referring ?

what girl is he referring to anyways?

21:33 me: Not sure.

Could be ------.

It's unclear.

He's had many crushes.

And he never, never refers to anyone by name.

21:34 So it's hard to tell.

To keep things straight.

----: i see..

21:29 Just now, "I must be [?] by your cat."

Shunned? Sinned?

We're not quite sure what he said.

Oh, "soothed."

21:30 -----: OK.

This is highly irregular.

me: It's very David.

21:32 -----: Good that he's in character.

me: "I suggest that, if you wish to keep your liver in your body, that you will rectify this."

"Oh, oh god!"

(that on me typing it.)

21:33 -----: De-liver?

21:34 me: if this was the civil war

and I was the union

and he was the confederacy

and I was, whatshisname, Lincoln

and he was Jefferson Davis, or lee or whoever

(no time for quotes)

(hard to keep up)

21:35 He stopped again.

He keeps seeing me typing!

It's so vexing.

No conclusion!

-----: Sorry.

You need voice recognition.

Tied to IM

me: I do!

"Your cat is very nice," he notes.

Rightly!

-----: Meow

21:36 me: "What are you compiling?" he asks now.

"Oh god!"

21:38 "My god, now it's on the Internet!"21:41 "I tried to be soothed by your cat, but now I'm afraid I might sexually assault it by mistake."21:44 "Your cat soothed me, but before that I read what a womon wrote in your yearbook, and then it hit me - OH GOD NOT AGAIN"I wish I could be a cat now."[he lies on the floor, meowing sadly]

Later he started vomiting!

A fun time for one and all.

One final quote:

"Hey, clothed women! That's almost as good as naked ones."