We are featured! Heartfelt thanks to all the delightful people in charge of this service. We are eternally grateful!
Contributing to the spread of a ridiculous meme, or showing off to all the cool kids?
Chosen band: Bush (X)
1. Are you male or female?: Testosterone
2. Describe yourself: Alien
3. How do some people feel about you?: A Tendency to Start Fires
4. How do you feel about yourself?: Headful of Ghosts
5. Describe your family?: The People That We Love
6. Where would you rather be?: Out of This World
7. Describe what you want to be: Jesus Online
8. Describe how you live: Everything Zen
9. Describe how you love: The Disease of Dancing Cats
10. Describe what you hate: Bomb
So every now & then we feel like hitting the "random house" button a few dozen times.
We don't recommend it. It's extremely depressing.
Was life much better before sliced bread?
This is our entry for the Halloween Poetry Competition, which we've divided in two uneven parts for the contest. We do not think it is very likely that we will win, but we want to participate to all the Samhain festivities. We will likely illustrate both parts of the poem for the Halloween Art Competition -- which again, we will not likely win, but participation keeps this community interesting.
So we survived a sizeable audience, & came out of the Granada relatively unscathed (although the benefits of the experience have yet to manifest themselves).
We are tired & behind on all of our assignments, but still have this altruistic urge to educate, & therefore we direct you to these articles on Yom Kippur.
We've been told to assert our presence in the blogosphere once more -- this is good transitory ground, is it not?
There's something about music theory which we find impossibly unappealing; namely, that it takes aeons to piece together, & that the end result is infrequently consistent with initial expectations.
If Walter Benjamin had studied music theory at the university level, certainly he would have had something clever to say about it in the Arcades Project, & the Intelligentsia would be eternally grateful because, really -- if it's in the Arcades Project it doesn't need further extrapolation.
"Ô rage, ô désespoir!
Ô jeunesse ennemie!"
We know that hundreds of Elftowners have already expressed such feelings in their diary -- & yet, regardless of our dislike of sheepishness, we cannot help but say:
The Crocodile Hunter will be direly missed.
Fighting supernatural evil is a great way to bond with friends & family. I'm sure it's very therapeutic.
Are we getting sick of that dragonhame quiz already?
We have trouble believing that a mighty & terrible Wyrm inhabits the heart of every little puny human. Also it occurs to us that Dragonhame has its very own community, & that those who wish to show off their inner dragon can do so there.
It's fun working with people who are not morons.
So here we were, happily hacking zombies to bits, when our friend calls & says he's been hit by a silver Taurus.
Our august person does not handle the sight of blood very well, but we have been able to keep that phobia in check masterfully. The trick, we think, is to consider every experience apart from its meaning.
We were able to resume the carnage for a shamefully large part of the day. We are now a 15th level Necromancer, on our way to destroy Andariel.
We find this to be rather extremely cool: http://www.h-r
So today we made the grave mistake of purchasing a used copy of Diablo II & our intellectual quotient has been significantly reduced as a result. Considering we're already a sixth-level Necromancer upon his third quest, the distraction shouldn't last exceedingly long.
Why is it that we've programmed complex interactive web interfaces, & presently we are incapable of writing valid PseudoHTML?
Perhaps because it's 1:00 AM. We shall see tomorrow...
A very odd, but frabjous, day -- with many old friends & new strangers, & completely unexpected things.
Boy, we sure wish we had a host for our website about now.
Bats fly noiselessly. Not gracefully, but noiselessly - something like scraps of paper borne on the evening breeze. Their movement has nothing of the blithe fleetness of birds; rather, it is indecisive & awkward, tracing eldritch patterns, black against black, backtracking, jumping, jolting.
The shadowy incarnations of unpredictabili
All ye people of the cloth: join the Ancient & Mystical Heterodox Order of St-Elmo.
C'mon. I'll give you Kool-Aid...
Order of St-Elmo
This is supposedly an analysis of our personality according to a computer drawing:
We would like to express our disatisfaction with the terminal appearance of the said image - it corresponds in no way to the original, in which the colours are more appropriately layered - as expertly as the primitive software allows.
Well, this certainly makes perfect sense:
"Any <person> should know that a prime
meridian does not just pass through the
Greenwich point, but it also passes as a
great circle through both poles, crossing
the equator at 2 opposite points, dividing
Earth into 2 halves of light and darkness,
with each its own 24 hour rotation - in a
single rotation of Earth. You should know
that harmonic symmetry demands a
second great circle meridian to create
sunup and sundown corner quadrants?
There are 4 simultaneous 24 hour days
within a single rotation of the Earth.
You may be too damn evil to accept it."
How hard is it, exactly, to use proper syntax & spelling?
While it is not fair to demand eloquence -- or flair, or sophistication -- one is nevertheless in the right to expect a certain degree of coherence. & originality. Anyone with half a brain could come up with better material than the motorcycle story, or that dreadful "what would you do if you had me for 24 hours?"