Quit Your Bed

Danger & Danger (Again)

2009-12-22T10:45:00.001-08:00

I can't see the future, know what's up behind that door.
I question every footstep if my feet will find the floor.
I'm pretty sure what I am here for, I thought I did, at least.
But now, gods, I'm forgetting, and I fear I'll end up feed for some beast.

I see two D's, and I mean Danger and Danger again.
Two bold, strung bows, joined by an ampersand.
And my destination? Well, my will ain't free,
There's another someone who's been talking for me.
And he's been walking me down some scary hole,
I'm pretty sure I'll end up in the corpse wagon.
I've got to get out of this dungeon - forget the dragon!

You pathetically equipped and equally unprepared
wanton half-breed bastards though you'd catch me unawares?
Springing traps and waking half the monsters in my lair?

You've pushed your luck, and you've long ago crossed
All the lines in my dungeon, and yet you haven't got lost.
I've been waiting for you, I've watched you progress,
And I'm sorry to say that though you're at your best,
I'll get you when you have to stop to rest.

On the one hand I would like to live, to smell some fresher air,
On the other hand just down that hall I smell the treasure there!
If it weren't for my companions I'd have run out long ago,
But I've got to be a part of it when we all reach the golden trove!

I see two D's, and I mean Danger and Danger again.
Two grisly, ghoulish grins joined by an ampersand.
And my destination? Well, my will ain't free,
There's another someone who's been talking for me.
And he's been walking me down some scary hole,
I'm pretty sure I'll end up in the corpse wagon.
I've got to get out of this dungeon - forget the dragon!

The Perfect Bicycle

2009-11-11T19:05:00.001-08:00

I love not hearing my bicycle. I love barely hearing it. I love feeling stealthy, on a bicycle. The perfect bicycle is quiet. Its chain falls onto its gears, fall around each spike at such tension, there is no collision – the by the time the chain falls in line, it has already touched, there is no other transfer.

The perfect bicycle is a solid color, and it hasn’t got a brand on it – it hasn’t been made by anyone with a past. It is the plainest bicycle, and the most attractive. It hasn’t got too man gears, and it shifts between the ones it has with such smooth accuracy as though the gear had been changed by hand and organic feedback, but it hadn’t – the perfect bicycle has a trigger-shifters.

What it must feel like, to ride the perfect bicycle. But the pleasantness… that is the least of the bicycle’s effects. The perfect bicycle is not for riding; its job is to exist, and be involved, and take effect. The perfect bicycle is never hit by an automobile, because it is never there, at that time, when that automobile is. The perfect bicycle coasts to a stop just at the light – bags never catch in the spokes of the perfect bike. The bike returns you home, just before the accident, allows you to prevent it.

The Future of Sex

2009-10-20T13:22:00.001-07:00

"Oh! Oh, that feel so good!"

"Yeah, you like that?"

*click*

"Oh! Yes!"

*click, click*

"Harder!"

"Anything you want, baby."

*click, click*

"I thought I said harder!"

"Yeah, sorry, babe. Lag."

"Why'd you stop!?"

"Shit. It's frozen... Hold on."

As more human interactions are replaced with Social Networks and virtual alternatives, what will become of the most primal connections between the evolved human animal? Teledildonics, or cyberdildonics, is the practice of sensually stimulating a partner through the wires, be it across the world wide web, or just a few bytes to a hottie on the office LAN. On one end of this exchange, hardware extensions to your computer allow for a physical, genital interface - USB vibrators, firewire fleshlights, even wireless bluetooth sex toys that can 'talk' to your phone, receiving instructions on how to buzz, throb or thrust.

The other side is the virtual operator, equipped with the software that allows her to click a button and tell that toy to turn on; she has sliders for vibration intensity, and a dial for frequency of undulation. While the earliest, most rudimentary set ups were a few lines of code permitting remote operation of a CD tray with a dildo duct-taped to it, we can expect some serious advancements to increase the convenience and, well, sexiness. If we can overcome our heebie jeebies at the thought of plugging our junk into an iMac, what cyber-sensual doors will we find open for us?

You can imagine the wonders this technology can do for a long distance relationship, giving the star-crossed lovers a chance to cross their wires. There're also bound to be opportunities to increase tactile force-feedback in computer and video games - yeah, you remember your rumble pack. And ladies, what if you could play Halo directly with your own sticky grenade? Now that we're all online, it's time to admit the boundary between web-geek and prettyboymotherfucker has become a little blurred - so I expect great turnout at this weekend's LAN party. Bring Your Own Computer, but we've got all the Mountain Dew, and the Astroglide.

Who The Hell Are You, Stranger?

2009-10-19T23:56:00.001-07:00

Stranger: Hey there
You: Who the hell are you?
Stranger: Strangest stranger you'll ever talk to.
You: StrangEST!?
You: You have some kind of bodily deformation?
Stranger: Quite strange.
Stranger: Yeah I got a penis on my chest how about you?
You: I've got a chest in front of my lungs.
Stranger: That's a weird one.
You: Well, yeah. I don't remember which came first.
Stranger: Your chest isn't weirdly swollen or anything, right?
You: You want to know if I am a girl. Or not.
You: That is not strange.
You: Nearly everyone asks me that.
Stranger: I thought it was a slightly more creative method of asking, simply because the opportunity arose.
You: You have plummeted to the lowest common denominator all the same.
Stranger: I don't normally bother, since I really don't care.
Stranger: Meh, I'll live.
You: Yeh.
You: We'll both live.
You: Except maybe if you have medical complications due to the placement of your organ.
You: In which case, you might not live.
Stranger: I was actually quoting a bizarre youtube video
You: So, uh, I'd like to take this opportunity to say, um...
Stranger: But I'll avoid that from here on out.
You: You've always meant a lot to me... And I don't think... I could ever...
You: Oh.
Stranger: My manhood is placed normally.
You: You're not dying?
Stranger: Slowly
Stranger: From a terminal illness known as "living"
Stranger: But I cope.
You: Huh.
You: Yeah, I'm getting treated for it myself.
Stranger: Really?
Stranger: I didn't know they had a cure.
You: They're working on it.
Stranger: Good to know.
Stranger: I'll have to do some more research.
Stranger: So whereabouts are you from?
You: California.
Stranger: Nice.
You: Yup.
Stranger: I'm out in bumblefuck, Illinois.
You: Mwahaha.
Stranger: Meh, at university so I don't really care.
Stranger: I'll be home in Chicago soon enough
You: The windy cittay.
Stranger: Yep.
Stranger: And it figures
Stranger: I'm home during the shittiest part of the year to be there
Stranger: Great.
You: You a city boy, then.
Stranger: Yep.
Stranger: And I'm surrounded by rednecks at school here
You: Hoho!
Stranger: Seriously
Stranger: they regale stories of driving tractors around drunk
You: Oh.
You: Wonderful.
Stranger: Yeah.
Stranger: You in college?
You: Oh, yeah.
You: A big ol' University of California.
Stranger: Fun.
You: Yeh.
Stranger: What are you studying?
You: Yeah, right.
Stranger: :[
You: Oh, I mean, like I know.
You: Yeh, I study whatever I want.
Stranger: Undecided?
You: I mean...
You: Intependent.
You: I have decided - I've decided not to pick a fucking major.
Stranger: Quite the decision
Stranger: Even though you'll probably need to declare by your junior year.
You: How I'll convince the paper-pushers to get over themselves, and let me expand my usefulness to the world without their labels, well...
You: Because seriously, fuck the common trajectory. I'll follow it only until I can grab onto some fucking real human progress.
Stranger: You're seriously anti-The Man
You: We're totally dominated by tremendous powers, and a college degree isn't going to help with much except, uh, getting a job with them.
You: And, remember, fuck them.
You: It's not The Man, it's The Men, and they own everything.
You: Which, I mean...
You: Is true.
Stranger: Hooray for men, I guess.
You: Oh.
You: Interesting.
Stranger: Haha.
You: I didn't mean "Men."
You: I guess, yeah, I meant "The Man."
Stranger: See, I'm a white male, so the Men aren't out to get me
You: I was just trying out the plural...
You: Yes, they are!
Stranger: So my college degree is a formality, I have a job lined up and everything
You: Well... They're not out to get you...
Stranger: Because of the good ol' boys club.
You: They've got you!
Stranger: They paid me off well.
You: Yup.
You: And you will eat their shit your whole life.
You: And you'll probably die happy, and contented.
Stranger: Yep.
Stranger: So far, no issues here
You: Which, I mean, is the best I could hope for you.
You: And I do hope you die happy and contented.
Stranger: Hey, if things don't work out
Stranger: I'll come out to California or something
Stranger: and we can protest the establishment.
You: Fuck protests.
You: My life is a constant protest.
You: So is everyone's.
Stranger: We can silently chillax by a nice lake or something?
Stranger: Maybe eat a small meal?
Stranger: I don't know
You: Wine?
You: Or beer?
Stranger: What do you want from me?!
Stranger: Ah, depends.
You: Yeh... Could go either way.
You: Depends on if we've gota boat.
Stranger: Beer goes with a bunch of guys hanging out eating a ridiculous amount of meat
Stranger: Wine is a bit more fancy, and reserved for occasions where one needs to impress his companion.
You: Haha,
You: Not boxed wine!
Stranger: Oh no
Stranger: Last time I had box wine
Stranger: The people I was sharing it with
Stranger: well, we named the box karl
You: Ha!
Stranger: Bad night.
You: Good ol' karl.
You: Bad ol' Karl?
Stranger: We killed the hell out of Karl
Stranger: Then tried to entertain ourselves
You: Space-bag it?
Stranger: Which is not easy when you've just slammed a box of wine
You: Um, yeh, fucking rednecks can do it.
You: You could play, uh...
You: Man, I don't know what to do when your drunk...
Stranger: I generally just get food.
You: I just try softly to get laid.
Stranger: Depending on how drunk I am.
Stranger: Sometimes I generally just stop talking because stupid things come pouring out.
You: Heh.
Stranger: But then there are the times where I'm in between sober and trashed
Stranger: And those are the times to listen in.
You: In vino veritas?
Stranger: Haha.
Stranger: More like drunken, overly-suspicious babbling.
Stranger: Also I have a nasty habit of telling stories with my friends
Stranger: to each other
Stranger: when we were both there
You: I won
You: I won't pretend that I still know what you are talking about.
You: For some reason, that didn't make sense to me.
You: Maybe I don't get drunk enough.
Stranger: Don't be like me
You: Ok.
You: Promise.
You: Hmmm...

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: knock knock
You: Who the hell are you?
Stranger: KNOCK KNOCK
You: IT'S UNLOCKED!
Stranger: O RLY?
You: YA RLY.
Stranger: -opens door-
Stranger: Anyone homeeeee?
You: Uh, hello?
You: Who is it?
Stranger: It's your mother!
Stranger: have you forgotten me already?
You: Oh god!
You: Ma! Are you-
You: Back from the grave!?
Stranger: HOW DARE YOU!
Stranger: I RAISED YOU
Stranger: FROM WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG
You: And now you've been raised
You: from the dead.
Stranger: and you pay me back with this INSOLENCE?
Stranger: COME HERE CHILD
Stranger: i need to tell you something
Stranger: i'm back, to deliver a message to you
You: What is it, momma?
Stranger: come closer.
You: ...yeah?
Stranger: -whispers-
Stranger: The Game
You: F...
You: FUCK, I JUST LOST THE GAME!
Stranger: Now i must leave you my son
Stranger: for you are a failure
Your conversational partner has disconnected.

Stranger: Hello.
You: Who the hell are you?
Stranger: I'm an overworked business student in his last year of school. Who the hell are you?
You: I'm a sapling who fears the whiddler.
Stranger: Saplings don't have much to worry about, whittling green wood is hard.
Stranger: Poetic image, though.
You: Well, eventually I won't be, and then they'll fucking turn me into a peg, a totem, or a bench.
You: But you know that; you're a business student.
Stranger: If it makes you feel better, pegs and totems and benches are infinitely more useful
You: Than what, trees?
Stranger: Yup. Otherwise we wouldn't turn them from one to the other.
Stranger: People like to hate business, but all business does is give people what they want. If people didn't want a bench, we'd never cut down a tree to make one.
You: Yup.
You: I adore utility.
You: I guess my analogy makes me a fool.
Stranger: It's possible. But fools can be adorable, so all is not lost.
Stranger: And it is, as I said, a very poetic image. I enjoyed it.
You: It wasn't supposed to make you happy. I was trying to express my fear of the fucking... tremendous powers that be...
You: But, you know, I am glad if it did.
Stranger: And it's effective, making me happy is a side effect. Not an altogether negative one, either.
You: Yeah, I don't really know what to say next, either.
Stranger: Heh. That happens sometimes. Tell me about yourself, stranger! Fear of that which is more powerful than the individual notwithstanding, of cours.e
You: Uh...
You: I adore utility...
You: No, I already said that.
You: I'm a pisces.
Stranger: Oh, snap, me too.
Stranger: March 7th.
You: Feb. 25th.
Stranger: '88, incidentally. I am officially a venerable ancient.
You: Huh...
You: Undergrad?
Stranger: Indeed. Just finishing it up.
You: I'm a second year.
You: No major.
You: Not undecided - I've decided to graduate without one.
Stranger: I'm not sure it's possible to graduate without one. At least, as far as I know it's not. No school offers a Degree in Nothing.
You: Listen...
You: Fuck that.
You: Y'know?
Stranger: While I admire the spirit behind it, that still won't get you out with a degree in nothingness :P. Ultimately you'll end up collecting enough random courses to qualify for a degree in something.
You: If I were granted an honorary degree from some prestigious private school, would they grant it in a department?
Stranger: Yep. They'd have to.
You: Hm...
Stranger: Every bachelor's degree is a bachelor's degree in something.
You: Polyology...
Stranger: study of parrots?
You: Ha.
You: Ha.
You: Well, fuck.
Stranger: I thought it was clever.
You: It was.
You: It was.
Stranger: Good! It's important to my ego that I maintain cleverness.
Stranger: And my ego is important in genera.
You: For the future of the world!
You: Hey...
You: Try this: Tell me a fictional life story that you've made up completely, but still results in a you identical to the real one.
Stranger: Hmph. Givem e a sec, I'm not sure if I can do this. Past me was an unpredictable bastard.
Stranger: Nah, I don't have it in me. it's two am and I'm burnt out. Ask again after I've gotten some sleep and a good breakfast.
You: Ok.
You: Send it to dysaniak.
Stranger: I will likely forget, 'twould be wise to remind me. The message is there for you to respond to.
Stranger: To avoid confusion, I've started offering this disclaimer every time someone new is added to the stupid thing: I found AIM before I knew what a furry was. I just thought pie was delicious and wolves were cool, but not necessarily in that order.
You: Oh, wow.
Stranger: You'd be surprised at the things I had to endure to convince me to start disclaiming.
Stranger: I'm not usually someone who likes to qualify anything.
You: I have an inkling...
You: *Yiff!*
Stranger: Which is a stupid word.
Stranger: I maintain that it is a stupid word. And always will.
Stranger: Frankly, the whole subculture is stupid. Everyone finds certain animalistic traits attractive when applied to humans, cat-like grace being only the easiest to spot. It doesn't make you special to find these things attractive, and it CERTAINLY doesn't make you special to exaggerate them into something ridiculous like claiming to be an animal.
You: They're no more useless than any other slice of the population...
Stranger: Oh, certainly not.
Stranger: But the other slices of the population never made me disclaim anything.
Stranger: So I have less against them.
You: Ah, yeah.
You: Um...
You: Omegle.
You: Has made me disclaim plenty...
You: I used to start every conversation like this: "I do not want to have sex with you. I do not want to talk about having sex with you."
Stranger: Eh, I typically just tell them I'm too dudesque for such activities
You: Anything just to break them of their expectations.
Stranger: I'm not entirely sure what their expectations are.
You: "ASL?" They say. "Nope." I respond.
Stranger: I've started telling them "There are no girls on here."
You: I ask them what gender they think I am.
You: And then I tell them they are right.
You: Either way.
Stranger: I can't figure out what they expect to happen. The vast majority of people you run into in most parts of the internet are dudes.
Stranger: Therefore, it can be reasonably assumed that the vast majority of Omeglers are dudes
You: And assholes.
You: Or idiots.
You: Or perverts.
You: Or robots.
You have disconnected.

You: Who the hell are you?
Stranger: a Chinese.
Your conversational partner has disconnected.

Connecting to server...
Looking for someone you can chat with. Hang on.
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You: Who the hell are you?
Stranger: hi
Stranger: can you keep a secret?
Stranger: =\
Stranger: i think i might have killed my mum
You: Interesting.
You: What do you mean 'think?'
Stranger: she was being a total bitch and so i shoved her, but down the stairs. and now shes not breathing. . i need someone to talk to
Stranger: no cops
Stranger: they will just say im crazy
You: I don't think so.
You: They could help her.
Stranger: shes terrible to me tho is it wrong for me to want her to be far away from me?. . .
You: Well, it was wrong of you to push her.
Stranger: and my stepfather
You: But I think it's understandeable.
Stranger: well i didnt mean to shove her the way i did
Stranger: she was just grabbing on me
Stranger: drunk
You: You and your mother, no one else is home?
Stranger: no my stepfather will come home soon he will surely try to kill me
You: And the first thing you did, was sit down on Omegle, and talk to strangers?
Stranger: i dont want to talk to anyone who i know =|
You: What other responses have you had?
Stranger: you're only the second person ive talked to
Stranger: if i call the police im goign to leave the house
You: If you are afraid that your stepfather will be dangerously upset, you need to call the police before he returns.
Stranger: right after i do
Stranger: i will. . .but i will be sure to be far away
You: You should call the police now.
You: You can leave, that's fine.
You: Just make sure they arrive.
Stranger: but i dont know what to do, where to go. . .and they will want to talk to me
You: Well, I think you should talk to them, frankly.
You: Summon up a little courage, friend.
Stranger: nono i know shes dead. . .maybe god wanted it to happen, shes tried to kill me more than once i didnt want it to happen this way but what can i do, im only 15 where will i go?
You: You're 15?
Stranger: yes =|
You: What year were you born?
Stranger: why?
You: Frankly, I don't really believe what you're saying.
Stranger: its ok if you dont =\
Stranger: its a sick thing to think about
You: If what you are saying is true, you need to have the guts to call the police. Then you should go to a friends' or neighbors' house, and stay there. Or just outside.
You: Tell them your mother fell down the stairs, tell them that she isn't breathing.
You: Tell them, if you like, that she has been drinking.
Stranger: they wont think it was me? i just dont want them to
Stranger: im just nervous about that and i will call them i need to now. . .maybe if shes still alive
Stranger: im going to
You: Good.
You: That's good.
You: They will be easy to talk to on the phone.
Stranger: ty stranger, im goign to leave the house after i do. . .ill just explain everythign over the phone
You: Just call, please.

[At this point, I left the room, told Tyler, Anya and Kelsey about this, then called Katelyn, and started to explain to her. Ten or so minutes later...]

Stranger: Hello.
Stranger: Who am i speaking with?
You: Who am I speaking with?
Stranger: Im with the Minnesota/ fridley police department
Stranger: Do you know where the person you were talking to might have gone?
You: You can clearly see the entirety of our conversation.
You: What's your badge number?
Stranger: Listen, why are you questioning me?, ill ask you another question and you can be honest. .do you live in this state?
You: Bull. Shit.
You: Wise up, bridge-dweller.
Stranger: Its ok if you dont feel like answering atm. . .im goign to have to head out . . . this isnt my place of work ive done my job
You: Yeah, yeah.
Stranger: This wont be the last time you hear from us.. you better keep up your story
You: Oh, man.
You: I really wish you'd been better at this.
You: Because you almost, almost had me.
Your conversational partner has disconnected.

Nasty Old People

2009-10-19T19:54:00.001-07:00

So, the protagonist is some kind of neo-Nazi bisexual? She’s full of cynicism, but not a lot of hate, so I guess it’s not totally surprising that she can handle, even enjoy, taking care of the nastiest, most difficult recipients of in-home assistance.

This movie: Sometimes, I got it. I was right there and could follow. But then I’d be all, “Huh?”

But I loved these guys. I mean, at first I hated them. Seriously, they were pathetic. By the end, they were, I mean, no stronger or younger… But I liked them.

And the writing is clever.

This torrent contains the film, and a trailer, in Swedish with English subtitles. Fo’ free. Legal. Good.

To Terms

2009-09-07T15:46:00.001-07:00

Stranger: you're average. not a genius. not brilliant or profound. don't insist that you are and come to terms with being the norm.

You:

There are not two types of people in the world: 1) The geniuses, with their brilliance, their profundity and their lovely, lovely hair and 2) The norms. There’s no good reason to construct a virtual ghetto for either group. It’s not a contest - who’s the wisest or the most brilliant. Rather than ask if a person is a genius, rather than setting ourselves apart from “the geniuses,” we can just understand that the human can attempt, always, to do better, to be better. I don’t consider myself a sage, but I do concern myself with acquiring wisdom, which is the least a person can do. It’s also the most a person can do – the caveat that comes with every product of the human mind is this: Humans are fallible - what I say I know I only believe to the best of my knowledge, which is limited.

It doesn’t do us any good to apologize for our statements, to stamp them with an ultimately redundant label of imperfection. Nor does it do any good to label ourselves this way. Humans’ words must be assayed for their own merit, and not just for their speakers’, and nowhere does it say that to say something close to truth you’ve got to have a sticker on your shirt that says, “Hi, my name is Gavin (Genius).”

I do not feel like a genius. I say things that are far from brilliant, and I can't imbue a mundane conversation with any special profundity. Nor have I any superpowers, for that matter. I don’t consider myself or anyone else in terms of average, above- or below-, because averages are notoriously inaccurate, and… normal? Normal? Normal? What is normal? Instead, I compare myself to myself, and measure not where I am, but the rate at which I am advancing. The slope of the line that shows “Awesome” over “Time” is worth more to me than any given value of Awesome.

I would have been acting within reason not to even respond. The way you contacted me was without much virtue, and your jabs at my intellect, well, they were rude. The mature response to the noise of a guideless heckler is to ignore her. However, after I’d given your message due thought, I recognized in it an unwritten implication that really bothered me, that provided me all the reason I needed to respond. You told me to “come to terms with being the norm,” told me that I was not an Ubermensch, that I was merely “the norm,” like the rest of us, just like you. And there it was: I could easily discount an anonymous insult to myself, but when you came to me and relegated yourself to the ghetto as well I was disgusted.

There are not two kinds of people in the world. If there is a “norm,” you are not it; I am not it. Whatever it is, neither of us has any reason to “come to terms with” it.

Suffer if You Must.

2009-08-30T23:31:00.001-07:00

I asked a good friend of mine if he suffered. He told me that he did. I asked him if he experienced sadness. He confirmed that at times, this also occurred. I asked him to compare his suffering, and his sadness, to the global average, and we agreed that he (U.S. University student) suffered less than most, but that he likely experienced no less sadness than the average human. I am fascinated by the human ability to normalize our emotions to the contexts of our lives, but I am fascinated even more by the fact that we suffer at all - fascinated, disgusted and tired of it.

Today I came across this article: Sadness is good for you, scientists say. The author, “science correspondent” Richard Alleyne believes that these scientists have come to the realization that the sadness brought about by our human sufferings can turn us into more emotionally mature humans. Well duh. Ish. * Science has gone on to conjecture that perhaps, maybe, unless we’re wrong, avoiding “natural” human suffering is doing us a bad turn, damaging our health and emotional maturity – that when we don’t turn and face our problems, we do not learn from them and grow? More and more, now, I see science going on to prove what first-graders took one summer to forget – that we should attend problems, and solve them. That’s wonderful, but it doesn’t help.

Actually, none of this helps. See, humans are flawed, and so prefer to take xanax and hide from sadness, hide from this particular symptom of suffering as if treating a symptom affects a cure. But, as my friend points out, “people are greedy,” and “if there's one thing people are more than greedy, it's lazy.” I really don’t know what to say, any longer. People are greedy, and lazy. People are lame. I thought I was going to write about why to abolish suffering, but if people are going to keep being greedy and lazy, it will never happen. If, on the other hand, humans ceased to be greedy and lazy, instead adopting generosity and conviction, well… I’d be out of bed already.

I come across this wall every time I try to think of a thing involving humans (which is more things than otherwise) and I can’t seem to escape it. Humans – they drive me nuts, and I don’t know why they don’t shape up. Greedy, lazy, or ignorant. All humans can just pick one of these, and cause suffering in others. That is what truly disgusts me, especially as you can try and be rid of any one of these, and yet no human is perfect.

As time passes, are you improving as a human, remaining the same, or losing value? Is your greediness, laziness, and/or ignorance over time decreasing, or increasing? At what rate? Linearly? Is your generosity accelerating? Is your ignorance about the same as it was this time last week? Are you ANY MORE CONTENT? WHAT HAS CHANGED?

I think… I am going to start charting folks out. And expecting progress.

Up Mutucus Tower

2009-08-02T21:09:00.000-07:00

The seven adventurers made their way down another dimly lit corridor, some still smarting from the pricks they'd received from trapped statues' arrows in the previous hall. Kaywen O'dermeyer, the unofficial knight, took the lead, followed closely by the barbarous Yoserian Jamal, Walfelna the Dwarf of above-average morality, canny little Yseult Bealach, renegade Eleven instrument thief Iolanthé D'uennænola Aylëmérithira , the exotic sorceress Jejune, and a little humanoid plant creature whom the others called Sprout. Though they'd been separated in the not-too-distant past, these fellows had found their way back together – through the water-filled tunnel of Lysolian Springs and over land from the druids' burnt wood – and they knew in their hearts that this wizard was no longer worthy of their trust, and that his presence in this town was a dangerous to all the people, that in fact he had been working in league with the villainous nature-worshipers who had caused so much grief and mayhem to the merchant village. They weren't quite sure what his motives were, his position in all this, nor even the scope of his plans but they were definitely sure of their duty to stop his evil. Although some of the adventurers were likely a bit confused. Especially Jejune.

At the end of the corridor, which was reached with no further ornamental attack, they came to a wide ladder topped by a trap door. Kaywen scaled it without hesitation, and pressed her ear to the door. Through it, she could hear the distinctively nasal tones of Mutucus' oration.

“Indeed? Completely! Very impressive... Yes, yes, completely fouled up...”

“It's him. The wizard; he's in there.” Kaywen whispered down. “Come on up!”

The rest of the team climbed part way up the ladder as Kaywen lifted the door just enough to see through. This was the room at the top of Mutucus' tower, a marble-lined dome, richly ornamented though mostly empty of furniture. Across the room from the door, Mutucus leaned against a table, apparently speaking into one of the many immense windows. Beside him, polishing his bastard sword, stood a bearded thug in full plate mail, his heavy steel shield resting against a pillar.

“Alright, guys... On the count of-” Before Kaywen could count them off, Yoserian flipped the door wide open, and leaped up into the room. He took a split second to ready an axe before hurling it at Mutucus' turned back. The blade spun across the room, and buried itself in the wizard's shoulder.

“Yahoo!” Shouted the barbarian, readying another axe. Behind him, his teammates clambered out of the hole as fast as they could.

“S'blood!” Cursed Kaywen.

With a cry of surprise and pain, Mutucus spun around. “Lanek!” He shrieked for his bodyguard, who snatched up the shield and charged the barbarian. Without missing a beat, Lanek raised his shield and crashed into Yoserian like a steel-clad bull, knocking him back two yards and shaking the axe from his hand. He then drew his sword, and prepared a strike.

From the back of the room, Jejune closed her eyes tightly, just for a second. When they opened, the natural gray of her iris had been replaced by a pale purple hue as she raised her hand before her. She uttered a uninterpretable word, and flexed her hand just slightly. As the color drained from her eyes, a foot long lavender cloud erupted from her fingers, and blew hastily into Lanek's face. Helplessly, he inhaled it, and his eyes filled with the color themselves. Momentarily dazed, he failed to swing his blade.

Yseult took little time to dash aside and notch an arrow to her bow. Squinting one eye, she turned back to Lanek and released it. The arrow flew true, but was deflected harmlessly off the guard's shield.

Recovering from Lanek's attack, Yoserian drew his melee weapons, a wooden club and a heavy mace. Whirling on his attacker, he beat his bluntry upon Lanek's body. The bodyguard tried to shake JeJune's spell and defend himself, but he couldn't raise his shield against Yoserian's blows, and the barbarian dealt him great damage.

Iolanthé scampered after Yseult, and stood beside her. She unslung her mandolin, and took to it with fierceness, plucking fast-paced tune that, colored by her magical talent, filled her allies with courage and strength. “Vaesys si pae sar shor cylys os thol eil eilai shi kaelaesalia aeraeloli!” She sang.

Lumbering after the others, who'd all managed to pass her, Kaywen simply drew her greatsword and, sidestepping Yoserian, leapt at the bastard. “Aaaaarh!” Her blade crashed past his shield, and bit into the steel of his armor. Blood seeped from the wound even before she tore the greatsword across his chest.

Walfelna paused and traced the symbol of her order tattooed across her chest. She quickly recited a prayerful request, in Dwarven; “My god who can see all I can see, grant mine eyes sight to mark the wicked!” Immediately she became aware of the tiny motes of greasy light that danced around the heads of Mutucus and his bodyguard, the karmic spirits of foul deeds and amoral thoughts. “Good enough for Walfelna,” she nodded, raised her warhammer, and trotted into the fray, heading past Lanek and straight for Mutucus.

Finally clear-headed, Lanek spat, raised his shield, and swung his sword. It came down on Yoserian, who twisted aside, but it still caught him, slashing a line across his arm and torso that split open the barbarian's bear-hide armor and sliced a bloody red cut through his own hide, as well. “Yowza!” exclaimed the barbarian.

At the back of the room, the wizard finished off a vial of magical fluid, and raised his arms in front of him. His eyes lit on Walfelna coming at him, and he spoke an incantation of magic, arcs of arcane energy dancing from his throat and snapping at his teeth. The sparking energy flashed white and leapt down his body, arcing wildly around his arms and hands. With a closing arcane word he released the energy as a bolt of lighting that leapt straight through Walfelna. The room flashed brightly as the electricity surged from the dwarf, striking Lanek behind her, and jumping through Kaywen as well before expunging itself in the wooden trap door.

Iolanthé screamed, and stopped playing.

Walfelna felt pain like she never had before, every muscle in her body still twitching from the immense initial spasms. She felt burned from the core, half-dead, and knew her internal organs had suffered immensely. Due to her low center of gravity, however, she hadn't fallen over, and after a moment of rest, she planned to move forward still, hammer clenched tightly in her fists.

Lanek's injuries were serious before he was struck by lightning. The immense electrical discharge fried him all over, cauterizing his wounds and stopping his heart.

Kaywen shouted out when the lightning first hit Walfelna, but wasn't quick enough to escape its deadly path. It traveled up her sword, and into her body, tearing apart particles she was composed of, igniting exquisite red hair at the tips and singeing all the small hairs from her skin. She felt weak, and knew she was close to death. Seeing her nearest adversary wiped out, she stumbled back from her position and slumped against the marble wall.

“You pathetic idiots!” Mutucus addressed the adventurers. “You haven't changed anything!” He drew a pinch of something from his waist-pocket, and tossed it into the air above him. “This land is ours. Liten fell to our forces. And Asbendale. And Kennenberge. Even the great Judge Bay is now our little botanical garden! So you saved Woebegone Keep. For now. When I've finished you here, we will take it back!”

“You'll do no such thing!” Yseult raised her bow, a fresh arrow notched against the string.

“I'm gonna wear your skull as a hat!” Yoserian told him, tossing up his club and catching it.

“You still have the option of releasing your spells and submitting to the law.” Kaywen pushed herself up from the wall, and stepped forward. “Stay your spell-casting, and tell us who your allies are and accept exile.”

Poking her head up from the trapdoor hole, Sprout whispered to her insect companions, who swarmed stealthily up to the arch of the ceiling, and traveled over to hover high above Mutucus' head.

The wizard laughed. “Exile? When instead I could rule as the Czar of all these lands? You pose no threat to me. Come now, and die!” He clapped his hands together, and opened them and a beam of frosty blue light erupted from his palms, traveled across the room and struck Iolanthé. A layer of frost spread over her and the mandolin, snapping the instrument's strings. Her mouth and eyes frosted shut, and she felt herself become paralyzed.

Sprouts insects swarmed down on the wizard, biting at his eyes and his skin, and buzzing into his ears to prevent him from gaining enough concentration to cast another spell.

“No!” Yseult released the arrow, and turned around to catch Iolanthé, who had begun to tip. The smaller gnome provided just enough leverage to keep her from tipping. “Don't shatter, Iolanthé!” The frost under her hands melted, and Iolanthé began to thaw. Her arrow struck him in the arm, and Sprout's swarm attacked the wound, biting.

JeJune closed her eyes again. “Don't-” Her eyes flashed open, her irises filled with glowing gold light, and she clenched her fists. “Don't hurt my friends!” She pushed her hands forward, and opened them, releasing a pair of golden globs of hot light, that twirled around each other as they swooped in on Mutucus, splashing into him with a sizzle.

By then, Yoserian had closed with the wizard. He raised his massive weapons and brought them down on Mutucus' head. The insects prevented him from executing a decent defense, and the blows sent him sprawling to the floor.

“Very well.” Mutucus clutched his head with one hand. “Keep your village!” He flung his free hand at Yoserian, and a deep pink light flashed between them. Then he sneezed, and disappeared. Yoserian coughed, and leaned forward, suddenly out of breath. He felt weak, weaker than he ever had, most of his strength sapped out of him by Mutucus' spell. He felt as if he could barely lift his weapons, and so he sheathed them through his belt.

The adventurers gathered in the center of the room, and took stock of themselves. Iolanthé was shivering, her lips a shade of blue. Walfelna was still twitching a bit in the face and shoulders, and Kaywen looked like she'd been through an electrical storm, her face sooty, her armor scorched, and her hair halfway burnt off. Sprouts insects crept back to her, and settled in her leaves while Yosarian sat on the floor, which didn't much help. Yseult we unharmed, but unsettled.

“Here.” Said Walfelna, coming up to Kaywen, “I heal.” She pressed her palms to the knight, and conducted divine energy into her. “And you.” She turned to Iolanthé, and did the same. “Who next?”

Then a roomful of skeletons fell from the ceiling.

They were drowned in bones, crushed under the weight of them. Grinning skulls forced toothy kisses on them, skinny fingers clutched at their arms. And then the skeletons came alive, pulled together by dark magic, they crawled over each other, reaching for the adventurers to strangle them and bite them. They could hear each other screaming, but when they squirmed, bony hands held them down and they were still trapped. Weak as he was, Yoserian barely managed to wrestle with a pair of the undead, losing in his weakness. Sprout, however, was ignored completely, and small enough that she could squeeze between them. She dove deep into the pile, and found the first ally she could. Clamping her hands down on a humanoid foot, she pulled, and pulled, and pulled Yoserian from the pile.

JeJune stopped screaming enough to say another uninterpretable word, and blink her eyes. But as she closed them, she felt teeth bite into her hand, which broke her concentration, and her spell of armor fizzled out her ears.

Yseult struggled with a skeleton larger than herself, and then realized that it wasn't moving at all. In fact, she was far enough from the enchanted ones that she could pull herself from the pile, and so she did. Then she started dragging skeletons away, digging into the pile to reach her friends. The fleshless bones were just light enough for her to manage.

Iolanthé had been healed back to full strength, and was prying skeletons heads off with her scimitar.

Kaywen clawed her way out of the top of the pile, and began to hack skeletons in half as they crawled out after her. She one, turned on another, and another, in an endless cycle.

At the bottom of the pile, Walfelna drew her hand up to her chest and rested it over the plate mail that was so effectively shielding her from skeleton bites. Drawing on her divine energy channels, she reached out to send the spirits of the dead back to their plane of afterlife. The remaining skeletons dissolved into loose bones, and the she waded through them to reunite with the others, who began pulling themselves from the pile as well.

“We need to leave here, now.” Kaywen marched to the trapdoor. “We know the traps on the way back – we should hasten out.”

“Hold on...” Iolanthé dashed to Mutucus' table. Sitting on it was a glass sphere in a steel base. She looked into it, and saw a tiny city on a snowy landscape. “This... this is a far-look glass! And come look... what city is this?”

Yseult came up next to her, and looked in. “I don't know... I've not heard of any city with a spire like that... What is it? It must be hundreds of feet tall, planted in the middle of the city like that... Oh no. This must be Frostberge!”

“I've never been there.” Yoserian was going through Lanek's belongings, and beginning to feel much better. “But I hear it's wet.”

“Where is Kennenberge?” Asked Walfelna, coming to look into the glass.

“Kennenberge is in the far southwest corner of Kelmrkun,” explained Iolanthé, “It's the kingdom’s main point of defense against beasts descending from the mountains of Kannemlof.”

“You say icy tower is some bad thing?” Walfelna seemed to be doing some thinking.

“Well, look.” Iolanthé drew her hands around the globe, and the image dived in closer. “The spire is somehow formed right on top of the city itself, it has frozen houses in ice, and...”

“We should go and help.” Walfelna pounded her hammer against the floor.

“Help?” Iolanthé balked. “Help what? Melt some ice? I think Kaywen is right. We need to loot the place and get out of here.”

“We should tell someone about this, then.” Yseult suggested.

“Tell who?” JeJune stormed over to the group at the table. “You heard Mutucus. They've taken over Liten! They've conquered Asbendale, too!” She turned to Iolanthé. “Point that thing at Judge Bay.”

Iolanthé put her hands to the globe again, and the scene shifted as she flew it north to Judge Bay. Beneath the glass, they saw that greatest merchant city on the continent had indeed become a mass of vegetation.

“Who are 'they'?” Asked Kaywen, still standing by the door.

“Walfelna not know. But Walfelna want to find out!”

“So does Yoserian, if they all be carryin' tha loot that this guy's got!” He held up a sack heavy with gold coins. “There's gotta be a thousand gold in here, babes!”

Iolanthé walked over to Lanek's body. “If we haul that armor out of here, we could probably get fifteen hundred for it in town. Three hundred for the sword, too. Not to mention who knows how much from all the trinkets from the wizards' bottom floor!”

Yseult rubbed her hands together. “You know... That all sounds very, very good.”

Walfelna stamped her feet. “Forget trinket! People dying! We must help!”

Kaywen nodded. “We might just do that, Walfelna, but first... Let's from this place.”

Dysaniak’s Ubuntu

2009-08-02T01:35:00.001-07:00

Sex, a short play.

2009-07-31T00:02:00.001-07:00

Below this sentence is an embedded PDF. If you are having trouble with it, click the hyperlinked title, “Sex.”

Sex

The Mosquito

2009-07-24T14:00:00.001-07:00

The Mosquito makes its living through burglary and theft – through robbery no less obscene than that performed by a highwayman against company travelling by stagecoach. Indeed, the mosquito’s theft comes even with a threat of death, as well as chronic illness and, at the least, an itch. If a human were to behave as a mosquito does, she would be hunted by the law! The frequency at which she commits her crimes would, in the state of California, ensure her life-long imprisonment. The mosquito is not an ethical being.

Admittedly, she does pollinate some species of plants. And, with the decline in European honeybee populations of late, mosquitoes and flies are picking up the slack. But does this service towards the world and its biodiversity mitigate the mosquito’s undeniable crimes?

When She Was Young

2009-07-24T10:41:00.001-07:00

She: Rrgh. Stupid people should be shot. This message was brought to you by the Coalition for an Intelligent Gene Pool.

Not Appreciative: Please remove me from your messenger list.

She: Oh.

She: *sniff* I'll hold in my hurt.

Not Appreciative: Good.

She: What happened to extemporaneous congeniality between fellow human beings?

Not Appreciative: They decided they didn't like spam.

She: I'm not selling anything.

NA: And signed a petition against mass-messages and chainmail

She: I don't hold with chainmail or irrelevant mass-messages... But this one was tailored specifically for the type of person who would happen to be in the situation of receiving it.

She: Perhaps I had only sent it to you, out of desperation, having found none of my usual contacts available?

She: It would have read the same.

She: What would you have said then?

NA: The same thing.

She: Me too.

She: Your move.

NA: There are very very few people from whom I will ignore mass-messages. You are not one of them, nor do I even know who you are. Thus, intolerable.

NA: As well. It was completely useless.

She: No. I was attempting to strike up conversation.

She: Not entirely along these lines, I will admit...

NA: And I would say it is irrelevant, inane, and a bit sadistic and overly dramatic.

She: Mm... So I've 'offended your sensibilities', then.

NA: No.

She: An entirely different burrito.

She: Oh.

NA: A fallacy.

NA: Absolute.

She: Don't you get frustrated with the incredible abundance of idiots? I don't own a gun, to my credit. It was exaggeration, of course.

NA: Yes, but they are needed.

She: Not on the internet they are not.

NA: Oui, nous ne sommes pas sympa a l'ordinateur

She: Sympathetic?

NA: Non, J'aime mechant.

She: *sigh* That is the limit of my French.

She: Beyond, rather.

She: I don't understand your reason for switching to French, either.

She: Not that you are in any way obligated to translate or explain.

NA: Thought perhaps you'd go away...just maybe.

NA: I really have no mind for this.

NA: It is an inane, pointless debate with no solution.

She: Oh, I don't know. I certainly gained from it.

She: In the future, however, for your comfort, just tell a person in my position to **** off. He or She will understand better than if you switch to French. Um. Yeah. 'night then.

NA: You may. But I am not like that and typically, they do not listen and start swearing back and then I must add to my iggy list

She: However, if they are as articulate as I am... There is slightly less risk of that.

NA: They aren't. Goodnight.

Proposed Study: Flavors in a Dish by Course

2009-07-22T16:27:00.001-07:00

I propose a gastronomic study to determine the effects of the order in which a dish is served on the flavors the diner tastes in it – in other words, the effects on the flavor of the dish, dependent on which course it’s served as. The study would be performed either in a mock-restaurant, or a clinically sterile room with a single table and chair. Either the restaurant would provide the ‘story’ and the atmosphere to fully immerse the diner in the idea that he is eating a many-course meal, or the diner would be asked to imagine the restaurant, or home, as well as side dishes and drinks – he would be supplied with only water, and the dish a la carte. The diner would have a score sheet marked with a set of fill-in scales (1-5) labeled with major flavors (from Wikipedia: Bitterness, Saltiness, Sourness, Sweetness, Umami (Savory), Fattiness, Calcium?), as well as a few blank scales for write-in flavors. Naturally he would be given have a complete set of unfilled scales for each dish, which could be delivered with the dish, and removed with it as well.

Please participate in this survey which a private (anonymous) chef has set up to determine whether her perception of her dishes is accurate. Diners will be served each dish separately, one after the other, accompanied by a scorecard of flavors. You may recognize some of the dishes, but you may also notice subtle differences from what you may be used to, or expecting, due to the chef’s personal touches. After you are seated, a waiter will deliver to you the first dish, and the first card. When you have tasted the dish, fill out the card according to the simple instructions printed on it, and [ring the bell]. The waiter will then retrieve the dish and its accompanying card, and return with a new dish and card. There will be [6] courses.

The control diners will begin with appetizers, then salads, move on to entrees and finish with desserts. Then we’ll mix it up, of course. The dishes will all be of relatively the same size, and of some type of food that can be produced with consistency (I came up with this after a bit of kheer before dinner) and homogeneity.

I predict desserts will taste sweeter, entrees more umami. Of course, we might just end up feeding people for free… But is that not progress?

Blogger Labels: Study,Flavor,Dish,Course,restaurant,Wikipedia,Umami,Savory,Calcium,chef,perception,waiter,food

So, This Is It, Then

2009-07-19T14:58:00.001-07:00

Alright, I've just noticed the power of a few things. A) Applications. Seriously, I'd often imagined that there were freeware utilities out there that'd turn my computer into a more connected, more intuitive communicative system. Well, they're real! Recently, I figured out how to find them, and work them. B) My own outward communication. Now, admittedly, I don't believe I am currently generating five-star content of any kind. That, however, is just because I am out of practice. It's silly of me to sit around and let my brain atrophy like this and so...

I'm going to start updating this blog. I don't care if anyone's listening, just yet, but I'm using it to push myself into re-awaking and cultivating my creative well. These things run dry if you don't pump them. So, here I am, then. I've been lying dormant, creatively. It's time for me to quit my bed!

Here are the apps I recently found:

WinSplit Revolution - WinSplit Revolution is a small utility which allows you to easily organize your open windows by tiling, resizing and positioning them to make the best use of your desktop real estate.
Taskbar Shuffle - Re-arrange your Windows taskbar buttons by dragging and dropping them.
allSnap - allSnap is a small system tray app that makes all top level windows automatically align like they do in programs such as Winamp or Photoshop.
Wakoopa - last.fm for apps. You can find me @ wakoopa.com under Dysaniak, naturally. Same as last.fm, of course.
Unlocker - Unlocker is an explorer extension that allows you with a simple right-click of the mouse on a file or folder to get rid of error message.
Dexpot - Creates and manages virtual desktops.
Launchy - The Open Source Keystroke Launcher.
Fences - allows you to draw labeled shaded areas on your desktop, which become movable & resizable containers for your desktop icons.
VSO Image Resizer - Image-resize shell extension.
QT Tab Bar- QTTabBar is an Add-In that gives Tab Browsing Feature to your Explorer, folder grouping, histories, etc. (I'm not terribly excited about this one... In fact, I haven't even noticed it working...)
InfoTag Magic - A Windows Explorer infotip shell extension that provides pop-up text containing ID.
3RVX - A volume notification/control tool that emulates the volume bezel of Mac OS X. - Looks way too cool!
Hard Link Shell Extension - enables advanced users to create NTFS hard links. - For having files in 2 places at once, but no extra disk space. I'll use this to put large swathes of my iTunes library into the Sims 3 custom music folder!
Send To Toys - An enhancement of the Send To system menus.
Starter - a startup manager, that allows you to view and manage all the programs that are starting.

Thanks a ton for the help in finding this, Freeware Genius, especially the article "Forty-Three of The Best Free Windows Enhancements That You Should Know About." Also, many other wonderful tech sites and blogs, who put their articles together way better than I do (but this is not a tech blog!)

Blogger Labels: computer,system,communication,brain,Here,WinSplit,Revolution,estate,Taskbar,Shuffle,tray,Winamp,Photoshop,Wakoopa,Dysaniak,Same,Unlocker,explorer,extension,folder,error,message,Dexpot,Launchy,Open,Source,Launcher,Image,Resizer,QTTabBar,Feature,fact,haven,InfoTag,Magic,text,notification,tool,Hard,Link,Shell,NTFS,links,files,places,disk,library,Sims,custom,music,Send,enhancement,Starter,manager,Thanks,Freeware,Genius,article,Three,Best,Free,Should,About,Also,Fences,areas,icons,histories,users,menus,Enhancements,articles,blog,apps,desktop,allSnap,tech

Best RPG Plotline In My Notebook

2009-02-08T00:40:00.001-08:00

Trolls looking for virgins

Five trolls and a troll king.

Lives in the porter cave.

Extra sensitive; his girlfriend left him.

Troll queen swinging on the swing. Has a band of Faeries. Will return to him if he delivers her a Gold Anemone.

He is afraid of the salt air.

Ninjas fight you.

Steady Supply

2009-01-29T18:39:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, for all such stories must begin this way, there was a girl named Daisy, who one day discovered that she could, just by willing it, summon matter into existence. She’d had a high school education, so she knew that ‘matter can neither be created nor destroyed,’ and all that, but this is exactly what seemed to be happening at the end of her fingertip, whenever she tried it. She would extend her index finger, and consider, say, ice. In an instant, some immeasurably short amount of time, there would appear a perfect sphere of crystallized H2O, clear and dry – until, struck by the air and sunlight, it would begin to melt.

She discovered this occurrence on a Wednesday, and hasn’t gone to class since. Likely, she never will return.

Another One

2009-01-05T17:10:00.000-08:00

One of Us

2009-01-05T17:06:00.000-08:00

The Dissembler

2008-12-25T14:07:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time there was a boy who could only lie, cursed as he was - out of the blue - by god, or by a god, or by a witch. As it was, he got up every morning to beautiful weather, and greeted his neighbors.
"Shit morning. Look's like it'll be a terrible day out."
Of course they looked at him oddly, and after awhile, they began to shun him, because on every beautiful day (and there were many in his locale) he seemed to insult the fine weather. He began to loathe calm days, for while he had once loved the sky and mild breezes so much that they almost always moved him to praise, they now brought him only awkward conversations with folks. And so it was that one day he got up to a perfect, sunny morning, hated it, walked by his neighbor and said, "Good morning. Beautiful day, isn't it?"