Somnambulant perambulation: just when you thought semirhyme wasn't to be taken internally
Jan. 13th, 2006 05:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
active_apathyLet me start the somnambulant perambulation of the day with a keen and sightful observation: many people seem to lack adequate and appropriate understanding of bipedal locomotion.
But first, an aside. Didn't I just post yesterday? What's this? Who am I, and what have I done with the real me?
This is me deciding that there'll be at least one entry a day, on me-things. This may, at times, stretch my experience in making mundane and boring things sound interesting, but it also means that it'll keep me in the habit of posting entries on days where I can get myself to a keyboard. It should also bring much-needed focus to assorted other projects and goings-on, which is never a bad thing.
And with that, the aside shuffled helpfully... um... aside.
Bipedal locomotion is, in a practical sense, tricky to organise. Falling over is much, much easier - but then, most people get to practice it every. day. Even small children incapable of forming sentences beyond "Goo ga bah gooblythbbbt" have a miraculous talent for figuring out bipedal locomotion all by themselves.
Clearly, some people need to be taken somewhere to learn to walk.
It's an odd and interesting phenomenon that, when walking and reading a book - a task the monumental complexity of which is equivalent to walking while chewing gum - these people in need of remedial walking classes take it upon themselves to do their very best to try to walk through you. Or, failing that, to push small children in large offroad contraptions (combining all the features of a stroller, a suitcase, a tea trolley, a bar fridge, a small hotel room and a road train) about to form impromptu barricades for any and every thoroughfare in sight.
Of course, my perception here could be slightly skewed - they may just seem worse, because when walking and reading, there's something to be distracted from - in this case, Neil Gaiman's elucidation on the relationship between Anansi and Tiger. The people got their wish, anyway - my reading stopped temporarily owing to the need to carry newly-purchased Nintendo DS screen protectors and a copy of Moving Pictures.
Pterry's Moving Pictures, that is; the Australian band by the same name is entirely and permanently off my purchasing list.
In conclusion,
But first, an aside. Didn't I just post yesterday? What's this? Who am I, and what have I done with the real me?
This is me deciding that there'll be at least one entry a day, on me-things. This may, at times, stretch my experience in making mundane and boring things sound interesting, but it also means that it'll keep me in the habit of posting entries on days where I can get myself to a keyboard. It should also bring much-needed focus to assorted other projects and goings-on, which is never a bad thing.
And with that, the aside shuffled helpfully... um... aside.
Bipedal locomotion is, in a practical sense, tricky to organise. Falling over is much, much easier - but then, most people get to practice it every. day. Even small children incapable of forming sentences beyond "Goo ga bah gooblythbbbt" have a miraculous talent for figuring out bipedal locomotion all by themselves.
Clearly, some people need to be taken somewhere to learn to walk.
It's an odd and interesting phenomenon that, when walking and reading a book - a task the monumental complexity of which is equivalent to walking while chewing gum - these people in need of remedial walking classes take it upon themselves to do their very best to try to walk through you. Or, failing that, to push small children in large offroad contraptions (combining all the features of a stroller, a suitcase, a tea trolley, a bar fridge, a small hotel room and a road train) about to form impromptu barricades for any and every thoroughfare in sight.
Of course, my perception here could be slightly skewed - they may just seem worse, because when walking and reading, there's something to be distracted from - in this case, Neil Gaiman's elucidation on the relationship between Anansi and Tiger. The people got their wish, anyway - my reading stopped temporarily owing to the need to carry newly-purchased Nintendo DS screen protectors and a copy of Moving Pictures.
Pterry's Moving Pictures, that is; the Australian band by the same name is entirely and permanently off my purchasing list.
In conclusion,
Dear users of shared spaces,
please do try to be mindful of the fact that shared space is, in fact, shared. Not sharing spaces which are supposed to be shared is unpleasant, and makes unhappy those with whom you should, by rights, be sharing the allegedly shared space.
Failure to share shared or shareable spaces with those who are trying to peaceably and politely share shared and shareable spaces with you may result in my undertaking to sell shares to raise capital for a company to build a robot we can all share to beat you about the head with Dan Brown.
In the spirit of sharing,active_apathy
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no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 08:16 pm (UTC)I'm trying to decide whether or not you're entirely serious about the gay guys. And trying not to imagine her writing buttsex. Especially when it comes to the random capitalisation.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 08:20 pm (UTC)"Stormwind folded Firesong into his arms and smiled wickedly, "So, if you're done restoring heat to the Vale, how about I warm you up in my ekele?" *end chapter*
However, there were one or two scenes that involved actual depicted nakedness and eyes growing wider looking at it. Nothing hot and heavy, really, it's decaf porn.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 08:33 pm (UTC)Not even up the stairs... towards them. Maybe they would make tea on the way, who knows? Perhaps he just wanted to show Diana the weird bump in the carpet. I read that passage when I was 13 and even then I knew it was the dumbest euphemism ever written.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 08:38 pm (UTC)He then made up a fictional Harlequin fan, and sent a pretend-letter to them. They sent a reply, which was framed and hung proudly on the classroom door for the next seven months.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-13 08:41 pm (UTC)