Dear Bioware,

Why is it that, on planets with hostile environments that will melt armour in under a minute, Getherton G. MacGeth of Gethsville, Gethland, is completely untroubled by the temperature?1

Similarly, the agents of the evil corporation's supersecret research department don't seem to freeze to death waiting to defend the supersecret science facility, and the sudden unexpected space pirates appear not to need helmets on a planet with no atmosphere.

Slightly puzzled,
[livejournal.com profile] active_apathy,
Refrigerational logician2



And now, because I have again attacked with the prompt 'cinnamon', a meme from [livejournal.com profile] maggiebloome:

The first TEN (10)3 people4 to comment in this post get to request a drabble or a poem or something of any pairing/character/misc of their choosing5 from me6. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level.

  1. I am assuming that this is not, in fact, another part of the Checkhov's Gun Arsenal that is the rest of the game. It's almost like they really, really want to join Checkhov's NRA.
  2. There needs to be a name for linking people to tvtropes. Troperolling, perhaps? Except that the trope link tends to be entirely relevant, as are the next seventy-four tabs that you will open.
  3. Not necessarily limited to TEN (10).
  4. Necessarily limited to people.
  5. Choosing things I know something about may yield better results.
  6. I shall endeavour to be less flakesome this time.
Early testing has confirmed that playing the Darkworld Theme from The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past when walking somewhere is, indeed, as silly as it sounds.

And yet, kind of fun - except for the part where you wish you had a sword to hack at the grass with, to see if money and health fall out1.

Which is precisely what a small group of men in bright orange vests were doing, at any rate. Or, presumably that's what they were doing; puzzlingly, next to their "men at work"2 sign, they had another that read "SLASHING AHEAD", leaving open the possibility that they were actually writing fanfic in the shade of their large yellow machines.


And let's pause here for a moment to picture them having a 'shipping war.

"Those pairings have been on display in your local planning department..."



Next, a link stolen from [livejournal.com profile] kdsorceress, a game so fiendishly hard you'll be utterly amazed: You Have To Burn The Rope. There's a walkthrough in case you get stuck, and a credits song when you eventually solve all of the puzzles.



Also: I couldn't help but make that icon when I saw that panel of Wednesday's QC comic - and then it took but seconds before it occurred to me that out of context, it looks rather like they're about to do the dance from Thriller.

Mental images indeed.

  1. Health would be especially good, as opposed to my present arrangements - those arrangements being intermittent coughing fits, a veritable pharmacopeia arrayed on one of the shelves of my desk, and sinuses that could do with a "NO VACANCY" sign. Grrr, *coughcoughcoughittycough*, argh.
  2. Not to be confused with Men at Work. Or, for that matter, Men Without Hats3.
  3. It is entirely possible that 2 was just an excuse to link to the Safety Dance - for which I hadn't previously seen the film clip. It's... kind of odd, really, but at least avoids other potential pitfalls of filmclippery4.
  4. Like, say, a short, jocular dance from Peter Garrett - who moves about in much the same way when speaking in Parliament.5
  5. I'M OFF-TOPIC AND I HAVEN'T EVEN CLICKED 'POST' YET.6
  6. ...much like always, really.
Woe! But, maybe, for 600. Or 625, which is 54. Or 252. Or (50.5)8. Or 6.25 · 103.

Or, for that matter, 624 + 1. And I think I'll stop there.


Anyway!

Since I don't have anything actually interesting to post today, it's time for a fun fact. And by 'fun fact', I mean me telling you that my Winamp playlist (and, hence, my music collection) can now play for a week and... eleven seconds, without having to repeat a song1. This is the kind of observation that makes me happy, and it only took... 2276 songs, totalling 12.44GB5, to do it.

This is also the kind of observation that makes me wonder6 just how much music other people keep, because I'm easily fascinated like that. And, let's face it, this post is probably also here simply because I like polls7.

[Poll #1137279]

In other news, I think I'll be avoiding µTorrent for a few days, just to see if I can find out what my usage of actual Interwebbernargletubes, series of, is. I suspect I'll be interestingly surprised. Also, I should probably actually listen to my four-hundred-and-something new musics at some point, too, which is problematic because I either (a) get impatient with it when I try to do so, or (b) start doing something else and forget all about it.

This is why iPolyhymnia has a sorting/rating playlist: it's oddly useful to be trapped on public transport with nothing better to do than going through the new musics.
  1. In theory, anyway. In practice, it does repeat things fairly frequently, because (a) I often decide I want to hear particular tracks, and (b) the randomisation behaviour in Winamp 5 is to just randomly select from the whole playlist rather than making one pass through a shuffled list, meaning that Nullsoft's dice use significantly less memory.
  2. This one isn't actually a footnote.
  3. Nor this one.
  4. Honestly.
  5. Which, as far as I'm aware, still rates my music collection as 'smallish'.
  6. Where 'wonder' means 'look for a flimsy justification to post a poll asking'
  7. As do many other people - after all, almost every other poll of mine has answers.
  8. The footnote is a lie.
Dear, um, you1,
Merry Christmas / Xmas / Xmas Substitute / I Can't Believe It's Not Xmas / Other.
Love,
[livejournal.com profile] active_apathy


Also, this xkcd comic, it speaks truth.

  1. That link will only work properly from your friends page, but I'm still kind of geekily proud of it. Hooray!
Nine are apparently going to start showing Moonlight at 9:30 on Wednesday night (ie, tomorrow). I will, at the very least, try to save the game of cliché bingo1 for episode two.



Next on the list: graffiti. Not in general; just one very particular bit of graffiti, that puzzled me more than most. I have no idea what it was supposed to end up as, but one 80 speed limit sign kind of on my way home has been spraycan-edited to '80c'. Yes, that 80c - you too can now go 80 times the speed of light for, oh, 500 metres or so3, and presumably get home before you've even left4.

Presumably, one day archaeologists are going to see that sign and assume that, in this one place, superluminal personal road transport was reasonably commonplace. Or, alternatively, that the past had stupid people too.



Lastly, and very literally straight from the headlines: Coalition MP 'stripped and handcuffed to pole'. From the story:
A senior Coalition politician has been outed visiting a Russian strip club, where he wound up stripped to his underpants and handcuffed to a pole.

...

"The partly clothed senator fled the St Petersberg joint after a fight broke out between Russian sailors and other patrons," a Sydney newspaper reports today.
Apart from a reminder that the Coalition are our right-wing types, there's... really nothing to add. Except, maybe, clothes5.



And that's about all there is for the moment. *clicks post*
  1. Like buzzword bingo, but with more of an "Our-Vampires-Are-Different" 2 feel.
  2. That may be the first time I've ever seen the phrase "Naked Space Vampire Movie".
  3. May not be 500 actual at-rest metres. Check length contraction in your local relativistic reference frame for more information.
  4. Whether that's 'left home', 'left the office' or 'left infancy' may depend on traffic. Check simultaneity in your local relativistic reference frame for more information.
  5. If we did present the Nationals with clothes, would they maybe start having independent thoughts instead of just sitting in the Liberal party room, wringing their tea towels and ironing their hands? Discuss.
active_apathy: (Firefly - Gag Reel - Can't. Sentence.)

A Letter

Nov. 1st, 2007 12:22 am
Dear NaNoPeople,
Good luck and good writing. Or, at least, loquacious, plenteous and voluminous writing1.

Save frequently, and stay sane.

... safe.

No, sane.
With love, (and, also, morbid fascination)
your most innocent of bystanders,
your occasionally innocent bystander,
[livejournal.com profile] active_apathy
  1. Though probably using littler words, since big words sometimes tend to be terser.

    ... is terser a word? More terse? Of comparatively greater terseness? Verbosity-challenged? Something.
I woke up a few days ago to hear the news on the radio - which, even when you kind of expect it, is pretty much exactly like waking up with a disembodied newsreader - saying, I kid you not, "Get ready to see more 80-year-olds on MySpace." Presumably, pretending to be 45-year-olds pretending to be 16-year-olds pretending to be 18-year-olds pretending to be porn stars.

The report was more about improving Interthingy access for older people. I'm uncertain as to what octogenarian Intarwebbertubernets1 might actually lead to, though - membership explosions in knitting communities? Squabbles over who's left the good icons in the will? pro_arthritis? Sockpuppet flamewars in an attempt to off that annoying Mr. Patterson with the bad heart across the hallway?

Or, most likely, no appreciable change from the Interwhatever2 that we know and love.

In other Internargles3-related nonsense, Limewire seems to think that Mozart composed Pachelbel's Canon, Für Elise, O Fortuna and Greensleeves. This may explain the amount of missing and/or wrong information attached to my MP3s, and why I'm slowly going through to make it all right.

And, probably, to decide whether things should stay. Coldplay is a valuable example of this - for all but one or two of their songs, I think something like why is this here? I skip all of these after about 20 seconds. Invariably, the answer is that I like the intros, with the worst part of a Coldplay intro being that it's stuck to a Coldplay song.

(...and Winamp's on 'repeat this track'. No wonder it seems to be randomly picking this song so often. *fixes it*)

On the subject of intros, [livejournal.com profile] riverchild has been posting music quizzes with the intros snipped off the songs, and then posted for people to guess. I'm tempted to steal abduct borrow this idea at some point, like an Internet-based gluten-free approach to bread and circuses.

And lastly, because this seems to have devolved into a post about musicythings: a meme.

Comment to this post with a request for a letter, and I will bestow upon you the object of your petition, selected most randomly. So lettered, in your journal you shall then be called upon to construct a listing of 10 of your favourite songs, the titles of which, omitting articles, begin with that letter.

[livejournal.com profile] ryttu3k gave me G. So, in no particular alphabetical order:
  • The Game, by Lacuna Coil
  • Gatekeeper, by Within Temptation
  • Ghost of a Rose, by Blackmore's Night
  • Ghost Love Score, by Nightwish
  • The Ghost Woman and the Hunter, by Lacuna Coil
  • Girl Anachronism, by The Dresden Dolls
  • Give me a Reason, by The Corrs
  • Goblin Jig, by Inkubus Sukkubus
  • Going for a Ride, from the Serenity score
  • Golden Years, by David Bowie

And that's it for another entry. If it seems a little abrupt, do feel free to segue into the next entry as appropriate for your flist.
  1. All the usual names for the Internet, plus a potato. And sometimes a carrot that's really just a sockpuppet for the potato.
  2. Three! Three names for the Internet! Ha ha ha!
  3. Four! Four names for the Internet! Ha ha ha!4
  4. And because I just remembered I still had this somewhere:
[livejournal.com profile] apathy_books: it lives. Finally. It may need some work done on the layout, but... it's there. And it should work, and if it doesn't then tell me so that we can fix things.

(Let's pretend, for a moment, that I didn't accidentally post the intro post for the comm in this journal. Um... oops? (Of course, you'd probably never know if I hadn't told you.))



So, I kind of gave in: I have a copy of HP7, in the ZOMGgrownup cover, because (a) it's pretty, (b) no-one's bothering to post proper spoilers, so how else will I know what happens, and (c) there's no way I was buying the Pottergate cover with the Paul Kidby-esque artwork1 and the suspicious Dobby!pose.

At all. Ever.

This all means that I've spent almost twice as much as I planned to buying DH, but these things happen. Unusually often they happen to me, but still...



(Also, can someone explain to me the e.e. rowling dedication thingy? What's the point of that, I wonder? I mean, I get how she did it. I just ain't seeing the why. (Not to compare it to a floating chandelier or anything, though there's plenty enough scenes in early!HP where they do interrogate the buffet table.))



This would bring me to another subject, but now I want for it to be in another post, because it demands a certain kind of gravitas that you don't readily get from talking about book purchases. Or, at least, that I don't readily get from it.

Instead: icons. Movie!Luna amused me greatly, and then for no apparent reason I felt like making  broken image icons. So:



And then, for Seanetcaminofiremonkeyscapefoxzilla Navigator:



And that's it for now, unless I feel inspired in an hour or so and write that other post, once I've decided for a fourth time what my opinion on it is actually going to be.

  1. There's a reason why I buy Discworld in the stylish black trade paperbacks, and surprisingly enough it's not that I love paying extra for books.
Ok, so it wasn't quite as all as I said it was1, but that's fine! Because I have...

content.

(for once)

(kind of)

(eee! Parentheses)

Anyway...

Apparently there's a fan petition for Jo Rowling to not end at HP7. I say apparently because I randomly saw it on a bizarrely placed TV in a shopping centre, which, as a source, is only slightly less reliable than reading the entrails of a neoconservative2. I have two immediate thoughts on this: one,
  1. If she did write HP8, would we have to start calling her Joanne Conan Doyle? (...but maybe not Sir Joanne Conan Doyle)
  2. Could we maybe, just maybe, petition for Robert Jordan to stop writing books?
On the subject of books, I saw possibly the happiest sight ever in a bookshop today - one, and exactly one, copy of a book by Christopher Paolini. It gave him a whole inch of shelf space, which is about 25.4 millimetres more than he rightly deserves, but it's a very big step in the right direction.

On the plus side, I now have copies of Company, by Max Barry3, and Selling Out, by Justina Robson, both of which should be fun and entertaining.

I've missed the opportunity for this to work best, I think, but still: if you're in a Potter!queue and get bored, I encourage you to start singing Potter Potter Potter. If just one person joins in with "Snape, Snape, oooh it's a Snape",5 the world will be a better place. Not much better, but still...

And that's about it, apart from one last little observation. I walked past a sign outside a supermarket earlier today, advertising positions vacant for butchers and bakers. I'm saddened that the supermarket industry is so intent on denying certain members of society the opportunity they dream of to become a manufacturer of lightweight, portable lighting devices composed from a reserve of solid fuel, principally rendered fat, paraffin or beeswax, formed around an internal wick, and frequently made into the approximate shape of a stick.

Also, 6.
  1. Yes, bad and evil. For the editing types reading this, I'm sorry. Mostly.
  2. Not actually recommended. It's:
    1. Messy.
    2. Really messy.
    3. No, seriously. It's incredibly messy, and really hard to clean up after.
    4. Somewhat illegal.
    5. ...where 'somewhat' means 'very'.
    6. Kind of smelly.
    7. Prone to claims of having no specific recollection of whatever you were trying to divine, anyway. It's probably better to just stick with cromniomancy instead. At least when you're finished you can cook something with the onions.
  3. Max Barry is the person responsible for Jennifer Government, which I quite liked. If you haven't read it, find a copy and do so. I'm fairly confident that most others who've read him would happily second this recommendation.4
  4. Yes, I'm supposed to have a whole comm for doing this, but this here journal is my soapbox and I can spruik anything I want to. :)
  5. These commas are always kind of awkward. US English and common non-US usage says the punctuation goes inside the quotation marks in all cases, but 'proper' non-US English says that it goes outside unless the punctuation semantically belongs to the quoted text, in which case it goes inside and the sentence needs no punctuation of its own, especially when quote and sentence both end at the same time.

    (This footnote serves no purpose other than to share the thought processes behind the relative placement of two punctuation marks in an offhand comment on the Internet. I think I might have too much time on my hands.)
  6. I now have a footnotes tag.
WARNING: This post is an elaborate confection of madness, and may be distressing to some readers.

Via [livejournal.com profile] slammerkinbabe, and with copious code-cleaning1:

Your Score: quotation marks

You scored 61% Sociability and 64% Sophistication!

There is a lot more to you than meets the eye. You certainly get plenty of "action," but you'd be happier if those who lusted after you were more selective. You hate being used as a general intensifier; haven't these people ever heard of underlining? Italics? And yes, you remember the cruel words Mr. Joyce directed at you.

But you let none of this get you down; those who abuse you are destined for a "special" reward, sooner or later. You feel particularly warm toward periods, commas, exclamation points, and question marks, and usually wish to have them next to you. Parenthesis Parentheses2 can sometimes trouble you.

Link: The Which Punctuation Mark Are You Test written by Gazda on OkCupid, et cetera, so forth, you've all seen their footer text before.


...I suppose it's kind of appropriate. A little bit. Maybe. I can has sophistication?

  1. Which, sensibly, could be done by just using <lj-raw>...</lj-raw> (which is oddly hard to make LJ post properly, *sigh*) to stop it autoformatting, but where's the fun in that? Sensible, indeed. Begone, vile sense!
  2. So this isn't strictly a code thing, but it actually did trouble me. Yay meme, truth in advertising and all, but really. Parenthesis? Last time I checked, they still travelled in pairs, unless it's in someone's hopelessly messy and broken C3 code, in which case it's anyone's guess how many there actually are. Being 'troubled by parenthesis' is like saying 'Mr. Plod4, 5 doesn't wear any trouser'. Yes, people might understand what you mean, but it's really not the best way of saying it.
  3. It doesn't necessarily have to be C, but it's my example and I'll pick whatever I want.6
  4. And that fullstop isn't really needed, but then I'm up against their right to spell and punctuate character names however they damned well please7.
  5. When double-checking that I had the right pantsless policeman8, Google delivered possibly the most scarring thing I've yet seen on the Internet: Noddy slash. AU Noddy slash, where Mr. Plod wears trousers expressly for the purpose of Noddy drawing his 'truncheon' out of them. And that's just in the results snippet; I'd rather not see the rest of it.
  6. If I keep going like this, one day I'm going to have to add a 'footnotes' tag or something. Plus, point of interest: there were but three footnotes when I added this one. Really, it's getting ridiculous.

    ...I should probably make a poll.9
  7. Apparently the names are copyrighted, and it upsets them terribly if you punctuate their character names differently. They advise people to use their own punctuation in their own original character names. And has Anne Rice's favourite saying perhaps been mocked too much?

    ...I think I'll make a poll.9
  8. Is it just me, or would 'Pantsless Policemen' (or 'Pantsless Policewomen' or 'Pantsless Policepersons') probably make a good band name?

    ...so, a poll. Definitely a poll.9
  9. In conclusion10, a poll.

    [Poll #1011057]
    And that answer was supposed to be 'you can't discuss in a tickybox'. Please, for everyone's good, imagine that it actually is.

  10. Conclusion! Ha! I bet you thought it'd never-

    Oops. That... kind of ruined it. A little bit. Maybe. I can has conclusion?
So, I was shopping for miscellaneous learning supplies, because that's pretty much what you do when it's nearly time to go back to your learning for another fun-filled semester.

And, well, it's never actually fun, because it's so carefully timed to coincide with (a) small children going back to school, and (b) everyone else working on being a right pain. And succeeding.

Seriously, these people all make me want to find some kind of aerosol spray version of necrotising fasciitis1. You want to block the aisle? Flesh-eating bacteria! You want to hold everyone up to argue about five cents difference on a price? Flesh-eating bacteria! You want to crowd thoroughfares in a cluster of utterly unrelated mobile phone conversations? Congratulations, here's your fasciitis necroticans, enjoy. You'd like to run into me with a trolley2? Come closer, there's enough flesh-eating bacteria to go round4. Please, don't shove, otherwise everyone gets microbial death.

So, what news is there today?

Firstly, Borders had Gneil's Don't Panic, which I immediately wanted to buy, then didn't, because I wouldn't have had the moneythingies to do so. However! It will be bought in the not-too-distant future (ie, after Lady Friday is out. And if my opportunity to buy it clashes with the release of White Night, then Don't Panic will just have to wait.)

Which reminds me!

Dear man in bookstore,

it's ok. Really. In fact, I'm happy that you've finally shown to me that I have no need of physical space in which to exist. Certainly, it made my day that you didn't bother with so much as a word before deciding that the only way to transport your oh-so-important self to other bookstore locales was right through that spot where I was standing.

If you're planning a repeat performance, it may even contribute to my happiness to know you'd tried to similarly shove your way past, say, a sugaro cactus. Of course, I'd have to demand pictures for that one; I've never seen an ethereally nonexistent cactus before, and it'd be wondrous to examine a photographic record of your cactaceous6 endeavours.

With vanishing regards,
[livejournal.com profile] active_apathy

PS: Could I maybe interest you in a nice, fresh vial of necrotising fasciitis?

So, yes. Also, apparently, escalator etiquette in the modern world is such that you only stand to one side when the second half of the escalator has broken down, and thus everyone has to walk up. Doing so in single-file? Actually not helpful, though it would've been good on the part that was still moving.

And then, then there was the psychotic bus driver, whose sole contribution to this entry will be his attempt to crash and kill us all. He was - apparently - unsuccessful, unless I am, in fact, dead, and all the ills of my day prior to that trip were a kind of advance payment on hell.

So, that was my day. About the only good part is that I seem to have developed a new approach for rapid-deployment nakedness, inasmuch that I can successfully arrange my clothes so that the simple act of stopping inside my room (and, sometimes, shrugging slightly) can make them fall off. There are benefits to this approach, not least among which the fact that I get to use the phrase 'rapid-deployment nakedness'.

And now, footnotes, though you've probably already read them all anyway.7
  1. I'm moderately obsessed with it at the moment, possibly because it has a strangely cute name for something that will do its level best to kill you in no time at all.
  2. Seriously3. My leg still hurts.
  3. ... I blame Shonda Rhimes. At least I'm not (yet?) using "too much water under the thing or whatever".
  4. And I just looked this up to see whether it was properly 'go around', 'go 'round' or 'go round'. And my source was inconclusive, which means I need to find an idiom dictionary5.
  5. Oh, yes. They exist.
  6. I'm not sure whether I can actually use this as an adverb, but I couldn't find a proper adverbial form for 'cactus', so it was a choice of 'cactaceous' or 'cactoid', and 'cactaceous' sounds much better. Cactoid - to be perfectly honest - sounds like a name for some spiny green superhero whose superpower is standing in the desert for long periods of time.
  7. The little superscripted numbers tend to have that effect. Indirectly, this also means that the end of my post is actually at the end of my post. Curious.
Hello, one and all, and welcome to a New Entry.

We'll start, I think, with the moment yesterday where I managed to spray air freshener directly at my face. And that's really the whole story for that one1.

So, let's move right along.

This morning, before I left to go to class, I decided to check the weather forecast on my phone2. After checking the forecast temperature - a maximum of 20°C - I had a little bit of a look at the supplied weather map. In the top right corner, there was a little logo. The little logo properly looks something like:

weatherzone

...which I somehow misread as:

weatherporn

I'm not quite sure how, though. I shall blame residual tiredness, for it was morning.4

And then, there came an exciting trip to class. Except that it wasn't particularly exciting. Still, in what I'm sure was a sequel to the tale of the Lego thief6, there was a parent with a smallish child. I was thinking about... something. Possibly EllJaying the bit about weatherporn. Anyway, clearly10 audible, the child's mother says, and I quote:
"Get off, unless you want to stay with the bus man all day."
I was amused.

Lastly, the writing project previously called the Unnamed Project has a name now, which will be unveiled when I post the next piece of writing for it. Or, for that matter, unveiled if you go and sneakily look at my tags list, but that's a strategy for impatient surprise-destroying meanies.

And that's about it for the moment, mostly owing to an epic crisis in need of immediate resolution - namely, a desperate shortage of tea in the Desk Prefecture. *scampers off to make tea*
  1. Unless, of course, you want to know all about how it's a wonderfully effective strategy for making the whole world smell like the flowering plant of your choice for, quite literally, hours afterward.
  2. For those who haven't had to live through it, it's been Unseasonally Warm3 for the last week or so. This morning it wasn't terribly warm. Hence, the Checking of the Forecast.
  3. Unseasonally Warm, so nearly as I can tell, is a nice way of saying "We completely know it's going to be much hotter later, but we still reserve the right to be unhappy and complain about how hot it is now. So there."
  4. There's a chance I might henceforth describe all weather maps as being weatherporn.5
  5. Also, 'weather' is one of those words that looks more odd the more you write it. Weather. Weatherweatherweather. Weatherporn. Weather. NO WONDER THEY INVENTED WORDS LIKE METEOROLOGY AND CLIMATE.
  6. The Tale of the Lego Thief7 is the source of the incomparable phrase "If you take that out of the shop, ... the police will [come and take] you away. And I'll let them." Which, honestly, so. Much. Win.
  7. That post, I think, highlights a number of advances in Footnote Technology.8, 9
  8. Footnote Technology? Footnote Technology?! WTF? Why do I let myself continue to write my entries?
  9. There was going to be something to go in an additional footnote here, but I forgot and I really don't want to change all the references in footnote 11.
  10. I somehow just typoed that as "cellarly". And then the closing superscript tag for the 1011 as </sip>. Is my keyboard perhaps trying to tell me something?
  11. the 1011 in footnotes 10 and 11 doesn't actually reference footnote 10, and is instead meant to just be the 1011 all by itself. The 11 in the 1011 bit does, however, reference footnote 11, and indeed, references footnote 11 every time it appears, except when it appears as 1111, in which case the upper 1111 references footnote 11 whereas the lower 1111 doesn't. This, of course, is because footnote 11 explains just what's going on with all the 1111s (with the 1111 in '1111s' not actually referencing footnote 11).12
  12. Is there some sort of prize for entangled and confusing recursive self-referential footnotes?
And this entry starts with an odd idea that I've been having for a little bit now - a character concept, in fact. For a D&D1 game somewhere. It goes further, though. This particular concept would be a paladin2; one who even carries a large-ish sword and plates on armour3. And owns a shield; a heater shield4, with an appropriate device. And did I mention the armour, which would be heavy and plateful?

If you haven't been following the footnotes5, this concept was really starting to scare me. A paladin? Heavy armour? I play not these things. Not ever, not for anyone.

And then I thought about it. Oh, yes, this could be a very fun concept6, just thinking about the other things such a character would need, or need to do. Not living in armour would be the obvious first step - the heavy metal stuff is only for when there's a serious patch of fighting to be done, and the rest of the time it lives in the bag. With the big sword. So, add a nice, light sword, possibly a rapier, for self-defence.

A paladin who can fight light? Mmm, this one was getting more fun already. Add in historically-plausible clothing, and there's plenteous fun to be had. And then, the ideas pretty much followed along the same path - a sensible, plausible character, based on historical principles. It'd be like a million hack'n'slashers screamed out in pain, and were suddenly silenced.

This train of thought was, however, promptly stopped by middle-aged men. There I was, standing at a bus stop, when they stumbled over after walking all the way across the footpath, breathing in a manner ragged so as to sound nothing so much as post-orgasmic. It was somewhat rainy8, and they took up loudly conversing, eventually turning to how they (a) hate for concession holders to have seats on buses in instances where they, Important People who can afford full fare tickets are standing, and how they (b) hate for anyone with a matched pair of sex chromosomes to let them have the seats they feel entitled to.

The thing about this rant, from the ragged-breathed-middle-aged-men, is that the moment they got on the bus, they went back to talking about fairness in seating and such. While taking up seven peoples' worth of seats.

And then I had a nap. Mmm, sleep.

And that's it for now. There was more entry, but it got eaten, so I rewrote these parts and I'll keep the notes for the rest, so I can rewrite and post it later.

  1. Oh, yes. These kinds of things spring into my mind unbidden.
  2. ZOMGWTFBBQ WHO AM I AND WHAT HAVE I DONE WITH THE REAL ME?
  3. And so it gets scarier.
  4. If this actually happens, I may even have to explain to D&Ders what a heater shield is, just so they Get It.
  5. ...thus bringing shame upon you and yours for all time...
  6. My sense of fun is a little odd, though. Remember the Scientology Answers?7
  7. You probably remember them better than I. Hundreds of answers eventually just blurs into a whole heap of letters and a couple of scattered words.
  8. This particular item of public transport proto-shelter featured a sloping roof, held in defiance of gravity by pointy metal brackets, the lowest points of which were under the roof. The roof also includes a small hole, to discharge water onto the footpath.

    Or so goes the theory.

    Instead, it runs onto one of the support thingies, and - by virtue of surface tension - spills forth all the water onto the exact middle of the bench, spraying all in reach in such a way that you'd be drier standing out in the rain itself, rather than adopting a not-so-sheltersome catchment area.
Ten points to anyone with a clue what's going on in the entry title.

Today was a squeeish day. And a forgetful day, at one point.

See, today I had to go out and pay a bill. I caught the bus to do so, and arrived...

to realise that the bill in question was still sitting on my desk, merrily holding up the money with which I intended to pay it. Yey. I immediately check timetables, find an appropriate bus to come home, get the bill and the money, and then go back out to catch a different bus all so that I can make it in time to pay by 4:30.

The moral to this story is, I think, to look both ways before I cross the road. Or to absent myself from the Interwebs more than twenty seconds before diving out the door for public transport.

And now, squeeish things!

Firstly, the DVD shoppe where I pre-ordered my Serenity DVD has posters up. Posters in obvious spots - like the window, where it's likely to be seen by many, many people ambling about. Yay Serenity posters, and yay for DVD shoppes pimping our Big Damn Movie.

Their computer search thingy had to be put back on the BDM, though. Some clown thought it'd be exciting to leave a page on Chicken Little.

Next! A parent, observed in the wild, talking to a small child hugging to death a box of lego and making for the doors of a department store-
"No, you're not getting it.

If you take that out of the shop, then it's called stealing. Then the police will come, and they'll take you away.

And I'll let them."
I made it out of earshot before my untimely death by laughter - partly prompted by the words, partly by their delivery. And, I must admit, partly from memories of the hot lego bit on The Glass House.

Lastly, I was in a bookshop earlier*. I'm looking for a new dictionary**, but was distracted by suddenly remembering a book someone had recommended to me. This sent me searching for the literary fiction section of a bookshop that lacks even half a shelf of lit-fic***. I did, however, find myself in front of their YA section.

At eye level, right in front of me? Shade's Children. And right next to it? The Ragwitch. My pulse went crazyinsane, and my breathing sped up, and I got rather excited.

So I went upstairs, to my usual bookshop. They also had Shade's Children and The Ragwitch - waiting patiently to be plucked from the shelf and purchased. Worked out to be $AU33 for both, which made me rather happy-like since mere months ago they told me the books were out of print.

Still, my next bit of reading is likely to involve a wizzard named Harry Blackstone Rincewind Copperfield Potter. I may delay that a week or two yet, because I'd like for the comm to be a bit more populous. Or, maybe, give extra time to the first books (Sabriel, The Broken-Spectacled Wizard and the Variously-Named Stone) so that LJers can possibly see a reason to join in.

Which reminds me, I have a comm to post in.

*I don't consider this bit news, just necessary exposition. :)
**My current one is literally as old as I am, and falling apart. Also, Angus & Robertson are currently selling dictionaries 20% cheaper than usual. The ones best catching my attention thus far are variations on Oxford ones, possibly concise, but while I'm here I might as well see if there's one that my flist cares to recommend.
***My reason for being there is, I hope, explained in the above footnote.

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April 2009

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