I think I may need to have a Kegger

Seriously. Check out this bi-atch.

Who's in?

They also have some seriously nice 16 oz bottles. I'm thinking I've got to get the Castle on King to carry this.

Now, for those of you who have relatives in the states - consider your christmas shopping for me DONE!

*grin*

Buster Fixxitt
not Buster Browny
He's cuter.

Long time no Blahg

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shaddup arready.

So, I've been lamenting the death of Sci-Fi. You know, when our technology has evolved to such a degree that it is essentially a wish-machine, why would we need sci-fi?

I suspect that science-fiction would be a field of study found in a histories program.

"An examination of the prescience and naivete of previous times. The amusing Historical Futures of science-fiction. Rocket-cars, nonsensical FTL drives, 'hyperspace', the fall of humanity under the heels of its wayward robotic/bioengineered/artificially intelligent creations. Or most amusingly, the so-called 'dystopias' so prevalent in the later part of the 20th Century. 1 credit"

I think at some point, it's just going to be called 'fiction'. Fantasy, could continue I suppose, excepting that with 'wish-machines' what would be the point? You could simply live out the stories. Which doesn't necessarily invalidate the story itself, I guess. It would simply be a new form of media, one in which fantasy could easily retain its gallery of monsters, magicians, and ridiculously sexy half-cat, half-human concubines.

Well, its been on my mind, that's all I'll say. *grin*

So, I'm reading an e-book called 'The Forbidden Books of the New Testament". Originally published sometime in the mid-1800's, then later re-issued with commentary by some Bishop or other. Obviously, a protestant from his bias. But that's alright, it's my bias too, to a degree. Mine's merely more generalized, not so focussed on papist claptrap as it is on the willful ignorance of most organized religions. (Such as my extremely limited experience has revealed to me.)

The book is quite interesting actually. I've only read so far as partway through the second 'book', which is the book of Mary, actually - same as the first 'book'. Some very interesting ideas expressed in it. Apparently, all of these books were used up until the 4th Century, when they were discarded as apocryphal, not having performed the miracle of climbing onto the table under which they were placed. (Really surprising how closely the Hebrews lived with God. I mean, the priest could actually go and sit on the Ark of the Covenant and get answers DIRECTLY from God. While not undertaken lightly 'Oh Lord, what toppings shall we order on the bountiful pizza you have provided?' its a remarkable open door policy God had.)

According to the book, Mary's mother Anna was barren, and her father Joachim was a wealthy builder who gave double offerings to God at each opportunity, to make up for his lack of children. Then at one feast, the priest proclaimed it unlawful that Joachim give offerings to God seeing as he had not followed God's decree and had children. Very distressed, Joachim leaves and is visited by an angel who tells him Anna will conceive, and that they shall have a daughter and her name shall be called Mary. And as Joachim and Anna had vowed to God, they should give her to God, to worship and praise Him. OH, and she must be kept completely pure since from her virgin womb shall come the Son of God.

Another angel tells Anna essentially the same thing. And all the priests accept it, and raise Mary accordingly, and she is fed by Angels, and then comes time for her to be wed, and Joseph's rod is the one that sprouts and a dove either alights on it, or is born from it and alights on his head (details vary). Then Joseph and Mary are wed, but not married (no consummation) and Joseph takes off for a while to take care of things at home, either to prepare his house for his new bride, or to build houses for others, and when he comes back Mary is HUGE with pregnancy. Rather disconcerting. Oh, and Mary is Joseph's second wife - he has sons through his previous marriage, but his wife is long dead.

Now, apparently Joseph and Mary are considered criminals for breaking the pact they had with God, both swear their innocence and are forced to drink 'God's water' which will kill them if they have sinned. The priest grudgingly sets them free when they pass the test, and off they go towards Bethlehem.

Towards Bethlehem, but not to it. They don't make it before it's Mary's time, so they seek shelter in a cave, and Joseph goes out to find a good Jewish mid-wife wherein he notices essentially that time has stopped around him. He meets a woman who mid-wifes for Mary in the cave and a bright cloud over-shadows the cave, before entering the cave and becoming so bright as to blind the occupants and when the light recedes, Jesus is already born.

Quite different from how I remember it from Sunday School. Ah, well. Presbyterians and facts - never the twain shall meet.

I highly recommend checking out the book. Especially those of you who are theologically minded.

Spoiler alert though - He dies in the end. Sorry to ruin it for all the Protestants out there *grin*.

Buster with special thanks to Sister Mary Catherine.

Ahhhhh, decadence: dread friend, dear foe.

There's something sinfully delicious about blogging while sitting on your porch. It's especially sweet when you have a fabulous puppy at your feet. The bugs aren't too bad yet. The light from the lappy doesn't seem to be attracting as many as I feared.

I'm currently searching for templates for rental receipts. In my new position of LAND LORD: Lord of the Basement Apartment, I must have these sorts of things at hand. Not having tremendous luck yet.

So, we got a satellite so my darling wife can watch EVERY FIFA game this year. Do NOT attempt to make contact with her during this period. Interruption of FIFA is a bootable offense.

What is it about blogging that can be so addictive? For me, I think part of it is the chance to practice my typing. Still not very quick with it. Of course, venting my spleen is also a nice change of pace. Can't keep those feelings bottled up. You gotta LET 'EM OUT, like Mr. Sheepman does every night on a pillow shaped like his father...

Is it just me, or is Cadbury's Dairy Milk, just about the pinnacle of off the shelf chocolate bars? I'm talking chocolate, not 'candy' bars. Simple, elegant chocky. Yeah, it's probably just me.

DUDE! have you seen this show called ICONS? It's a history show all about videogames! I caught about 3 minutes of it the one day, it was the history of Donkey Kong. How seriously unreal is that? I'm so excited. I gotta find out when it's on. I may have to hook up the old VCR again.

*shudder* VHS...

I have the cutest Puppy! I'm ridiculously in love with him. I am so proud of my Buster. Tonight, we walked over to meet one of the neighbour's dogs. I think it's a mutt, but a big, old mutt. Very quiet and reserved. But he seemed very happy to see Buster. Cautiously inviting him to come near the fence, Buster finally mustered enough courage to go up and they sniffed each other's nose for a bit. Then the freaking Jack Russell came whipping over and scared Buster away. Then he tried to scare me away, but I held my ground and gave him a 'Give me a fucking excuse, dog." look and bared my teeth with a low growl and he shut the hell up, and left Buster alone.

Fucking right. Don't FUCK with my puppy.

I think Jack Russells are cats in disguise. Man, I hate them.

So hopefully, I can arrange some time for Buster to play with the big dog, without the Jack being around.

Heee heee! My next door neighbour has a yappy dog. He barks at everything, except my dad. Dad has pretty good bark of his own, which shuts old Maxi up.

Well today, Maxi was doing his whole 'I'm a yappy dog' routine, which, the first time Buster heard it, (the second night we had him) he took off like a rocket in the opposite direction. Pretty much since then, Buster's been pretty cool about the whole thing, we walk to the back yard, Maxi starts his routine and Buster pays no attention to him at all, except I think to taunt him a bit. You know, getting real close to the fence and pretending not to notice Maxi? Sneaky buggar, no wonder I love him. So, today Maxi started his 'I'm a loud dog, completely safe from retribution, I will bark at whomever I please' bit, and well, I don't know what was said, whether Maxi defamed Buster, or his mom or peanut butter or whatever, but Buster decided he'd had enough, and stepped up to the plate. BARK BARK BARK! and Maxi, shut the hell up and ran to the far side of the yard, as far away as she could get from Buster. He tried a couple more barks from there, but cut it out when Buster stood up and pawed the fence.

Maxi's been real quiet ever since.

Good boy, Buster. Here's a treat.

B. Fixxitt

Sidebar

So, can anyone tell me why in the second and third matrix movies our heroes have essentially abandoned fire-arms for ancient weapons?

 

What possible impetus could they have for doing so? When you're fighting agents, you stay as far away as possible, you don't use close range weapons where one false move can spell death. I mean, did Morpheus suddenly get an upgrade on his abilities? Did Neo somehow manage to share his abilities with the rest of the crew? To quote Joe Schmoe,   "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

 

Buster

Baby steps feel like Freefall.

Just a poetic way of saying this small thing feels huge and terrifying. I can't see my friend anymore. It's my decision, if not my choice. I never realized that a choice and a decision were two different things. Everyone makes choices, mostly unconsciously - choices are easy. They don't have huge repercussions. Choices are made by the Child in everyone, Decisions are made by the Adult. Decisions are good, but they're not easy. Decisions are not, cannot be made lightly.

CEO's who make millions of dollars a year make Decisions. They may only make 1 a year, but they EARN that money. They have to make a decision that will affect Billions of dollars, and thousands of lives. And they are held responsible for the consequences. That's what a decision is, it may be contrary to your wishes, you don't want to make the decision, but you have to.

It's Deanna ordering Geordi to fix the leaking reactor, knowing it will kill him. It's Churchill letting Coventry be bombed so the German's won't know their codes have been broken. Decisions can haunt you the rest of your life.

I have made a decision. Possibly the hardest I've ever had to make. I have weighed all options dispassionately and come to a conclusion. And I do NOT like it at all. It makes me feel like a failure, a coward, weak and stupid and cruel and worse.

I have to walk away.

I'm ending a friendship when a friend needs me most. Were I a believer- Lord have Mercy on my soul.

I'm more sorry than words can express. I'll miss you, Amy.
I wish you all the... well, everything really. I'm sorry.

Charles

I've got a bad feeling about this...

Hh.

Wow, I just read a lot of stuff. Blogs of friends of mine. Weird, weird shit going down, and no idea what to do about it. On the one hand, I could just throw in the towel, wave goodbye and walk away. Half the blogs I read were pushing for that.

Or I could stay. Maintain the oddly complex friendship, which while difficult, would be very worthwhile, I have no doubt.

I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt anybody, but will it be more damaging to stay for a while and then go, or to just cut and run now? Wow, that's a much more interesting term in this context- morbidly humorous.

I know I 'should' leave, there are forces moving me in that direction. I find myself very reluctant though. I wonder if this is my rescuer complex? If so, it's quite insidious. See, it comes down to this. I want to prove that life is good, that it's not all about any one person. I want to prove that there ARE people out there who can be counted on, because that is true. And I want to give people's head a shake when they can't see anything beyond 'me, me, me'. It's totally unrealistic to think everything is about you. I know very few people actually CONSCIOUSLY think everything is about them, they're not sitting there saying, "I've got more fries than they did, the waiter must think I'm a pig!" or "I got less fries than they did, the waiter hates me, the cook thinks I need to go on a diet, everyone is gonna notice and laugh at me up their sleeves, they're all out to get me!" things like that. Actually, I know there are those who think that. Paranoia, I think it's called.

Hh. I seem to be getting off track here. Not that there IS a track. Have you ever noticed that sometimes you learn something about someone and it becomes a defining feature of them for you? Like, they like anal or something. Maybe it's just me, but that sort of thing happens to me. I don't like it, I have to fight it.

And I don't think that's the case here. Here's a very important link. I think it's important, at least.

Quite informative, if you scroll down and read it through. Go ahead, check it out. I'll wait.

_______________________________________________
Anything sound familiar? Now, I'm not trying to say THIS IS WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!
We all know I'm not qualified to diagnose a damn thing, other than a graphics issue. I do NOT want to be beating you over the head with this shit. I DO think there is a strong possibility that the treatments used for this could be helpful to you.

I think it comes down to your perception. You do seem to think everything is about you. And boundaries seem to be extremely difficult for you, like they are totally unfair or something.

I think it comes down to me. I care for you. I think you are a really good person. It hurts to see you hurting. I can handle that. I'm not opting out - even though I see this 'coupon' as being manipulative, and potential emotional blackmail, which I honestly don't think was your conscious or at least primary intent... There's no question that this is a test. Denial be damned, the truth is this IS a test. Opting out means total exclusion. I think that's stupid. I'd prefer to be like K on this. If that isn't possible, if that's too painful, then you can opt out - no recriminations, no blame, you do what's best for you.

To be honest, REALLY honest, No sugar coating, no nothing kind of honest. I'm pissed off at this. I know you feel like you always have to be someone other than who you are - that's YOU feeling that. That's YOU telling yourself that. No basis in fact. I know, I've been there. I'm STILL there. Thinking low of myself, thinking that everyone else thinks I'm a fucking moron. Thinking my boss' every sigh or aggravation is somehow my fault - it's all bullshit. It's not all about me. The world does not centre on me. NOTHING centres on me. I die tomorrow, the world continues, maybe twelve people mourn. The wake could be catered with a pack of timbits.
Who FUCKING cares? What my boss thinks of me does not change a damn thing about what I had for breakfast. What I think my boss is thinking is still ME thinking it. It's ME judging me, not HIM. If I want to know what someone thinks of me, I should just fucking ask them. D'you see that?

Everytime you think someone else is thinking something about you, they're NOT. It's YOU doing the thinking, it's YOU judging yourself, it's YOU projecting your own self-love or self-hatred or whatever onto them. YOU. not them. They're trying to remember that funny thing that Leno said last night so they can talk about it at work and not look stupid. Good fucking luck buddy, Leno ain't said anything funny, EVER.

See, this is me being honest and passionate. Passion is caring. I don't want to see you making the same mistakes I have. It's your life though, not MINE. You can't live it for anyone else, and they can't live it for you. Them's the breaks. Shit's tough all over the place.

Go check out Homewood. I hear good things about it. I'll blog again later. I gotta get to sleep.

Oh, and who gives a fuck who reads your blog? If they can't handle it, don't fucking read it. Self-censorship in blog-therapy is Bullshit. Hell, make another blog somewhere else and don't tell anybody how to get to it, if you have to. Just write! You don't need to take responsibility for others feelings.

Right. Going to bed. I'll blog again on this subject. I hope you do too.

Buster

RRRRAWK-Sannne!

Have any of you heard Tom Waits' version of Roxanne? He turns it into
a freaking opera. It's amazing!

Find it. Listen to it.

Love it.

Buster

Blogging a dead horse

Googlette: Gambling and Porn together at last"

So here's the game. Go to Google's image search and type in a girl's name, then turn off the filtering in the bottom left corner of the page. BEFORE you hit search, you gotta place bets on where in the 20 images Google will present you with, where in that list will you see the first pornographic image. Popular choices are, First Ten, Second Ten, First Page, Second Page, Within First 3 Pages, or even more specific, such as First Three. Of course, since this is Roulette you can also put your money directly on a number for the big prize.

You're also going to have to decide what counts as pornography. Any nudity? Full-frontal nudity? I think we can all agree that explicit images of any sex act qualify. Blow jobs definitely count. Now, you can also play this game with the moderate safe search filter on. This is where the longer odds come in. I just tried 'Stacy' with a moderate safe search on, and we got a debatable hit on number 18. Without the filter, images 2-4 are incontestibly hits.

Perhaps we'll need to add a rule or option for 'runs' or 'straights'. Hell, make up your own rules. Only lesbianism counts or only asians or whatever. Hmmm, that gives me an idea...

Gotta Go!

Buster