Myst Blogs

Two news stories surfaced today, right next to each other. They're previews of the features that will appear in the next generation of Internet browsers.

For Internet Explorer 8, Microsoft is working on a "stealth mode" that users can activate to make them impossible to track. All data that is saved during a stealth-browsing session is thrown away at the end of the browsing session--cookies, history, browser cache, everything. As Ars Technica puts it:

A variety of implausible usage scenarios are described by Microsoft: looking at banking websites on shared computers or doing Internet shopping to buy gifts without the recipient finding out. The most likely situation, however, is the obvious one. Nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more.

Mozilla, on the other hand, is working on something incredibly cool: It's a natural-language command line for your browser, and it's designed to abstract away a lot of the technical details we have to worry about in our everyday Internet lives. (Here's a tutorial for the 0.1 version, which is their current prototype.) For example, if you're browsing somewhere and you find a section of text that's in a foreign language, the current way to translate it is to copy the text to the clipboard, go to Google Translate or somewhere, paste in the text, select the language you're translating from, and click Translate. The new model? Highlight the text, press a hotkey to bring up the command line, and type "translate". Firefox will translate it in-place--the text right on the webpage will change into English. And that's just the first command they came up with.

What they're working towards, obviously, is a Hollywood Computer. Another command they're working on is "email", the syntax for which is "email [message or object] [to person]". Give it a few years; my job will eventually become obsolete because users will just be able to bring up the command line whenever they have a problem and type "fix it". This will eventually stop because computers will begin "fixing it" by summoning Terminators to the residences of people who annoy them; at that point Skynet will take over and it will be the computers giving us commands instead of the other way 'round.

Until then, though, I'm really looking forward to being able to just type "Map all the restaurants in a five-mile radius, put them in order by their user reviews, and send the result to my phone." Or "Download all the music that's linked on this page and make an iTunes playlist out of it." Seriously cool tech. Keep trying, Microsoft!

GOT YOU, YOU SCARLET TRENCH COATED SEDUCTRESS.

I have a bone to pick with her. She's run off with my hat, and my London lot need their regular supply of its glory. Can anyone lend me £700 for a trip to North Africa? 

I'm looking at you, Snowcat. Do this for me, and I'll let you touch the hat with a special touching stick.

Because my French classes are unable to have UIE acquire the literature books necessary for the class, I found myself having to make time to travel to Europa Bookstore for my foreign language needs. this meant I had to rearrange my schedule and get up bright and early to catch the train to Chicago. Class began at 2pm, so I had plenty of time to get what I needed.

Allow me to now tell you that in order to both save money and to get some exercise, I refuse to take the CTA even when there is torrential rain or a blizzard. You see, it's $3 a ride and UIE is only about a mile from Union Station. $3 a mile seems a bit steep, so I go à pied. I decided I'd do the same to get to Europa. However, Europa is all the way down by the John Hancock building, roughly 2 miles or perhaps 3 from Union Station. I made sure to bedeck myself in shorts and a tank top for this purpose of walking many a mile. I'm unclear as to what image this presents to passersby because I did receive a few odd glances and I know I wasn't imagining it.

Once free of Union Station, I came upon Adams Street overlooking the Chicago River. For once, I wasn't bombarded with its usual putrid stench, which I found rather surprising. I zoomed past slow-walkers, going along at my normal power-walking pace. My sisters and I all developed this ridiculously fast-pace from our mom because of her tendency to all but run to stores from the parking lot. Sadly, this pace was never maintained in the stores. I soon began making a game of overtaking my fellow sidewalkers, with the help of my soothing music inspiring me to keep an even stride. by the way, the Art Institute has a fascinating exhibit on Benin, in case you are interested in visiting.

Michigan Avenue was a melting pot of class and status. the majority were high class women going shopping at Saks and whichever other stores line the magnificent mile (which isn't so magnificent when you walk it with a purpose). Others were pretentious college students who tried very hard to draw attention to themselves with their identical haircuts and massive sunglasses. They like to travel in packs and walk side-by-side down the sidewalk so that you have to veer off into the street and risk getting plowed down by voracious taxi drivers. Long have I wanted to bash upon the hood of their cars and shout, "I'm walking here!"

The other people were tourists, forever clicking away at their cameras, taking pictures of the lovely statues and the ugliness (in my opinion) of Millenium Park. Then, there were the studly men in their crisp business suits. Honestly, you can take the ugliest man, slap him in a suit, and I'd be drooling. I love a good suit! One was particularly handsome in a clean pinstripe. I nearly missed the walk sign due to gazing at him! there were other, like myself, who were in a great hurry and pushed through the crowds in order to be first at the crosswalk. My favorite, however, were the real people. By real, I mean people who didn't feel self-important because they were in Chicago. The people who live there, of course. They are friendly sorts, quick to joke, and yet very blunt and they won't take your crap. The true Chicagoan (which I am not and nor will I ever proclaim myself one since it takes a high degree of ownership and pride) has this sort of attitude. They admire common sense and common decency, and if you possess neither, you will be fated to suffer their anger and retaliation. All this means is keep to your own business and don't act high and mighty. I love to watch the true Chicagoan do his thing. Their clothes are not their Sunday best (like the super shoppers like to wear), and they don't look at you with judgment. They are casual, both in dress and in demeanor. They make eye contact with you and are unafraid to do so. They will talk to you if you inspire them to do so. They do not look about to see who is paying attention to them; they do what they do with or without you. Best yet is you can tell who is the true Chicagoan because when they stroll down the sidewalk they have an air that says, "This is my city." And it truly is.

When I realized the true Chicagoan, it made me smile. My own interactions with them had always been positive (or scary on an entertaining level), and jovial. I felt at ease among them. Well except those two strange ones on the CTA those two times. *cringe*

After what seemed an eternity, I made it to Europa. To my anger, they only had one of the four books I needed. Europa is a quaint bookstore, staffed by the very sort of people you would find in a French class: friendly, yet possessing a certain snobbishness. Trust me on that one, as I have been in many a French class. For some reason beyond me, French students expect a certain dignity and classiness from each other. It's strange, and it has led to me not making and friendships in my classes outside of acquaintenceship, but there it is. And so I live with it. You won't find "real" people in a French class, me included.

On the way back, this time to UIE, I took Wabash rather than Michigan. This road was beautiful, not at all pompous like its neighbor Michigan. However, it remained clear that this was still the land of the upper class. I rounded to Jackson, crossed the river, and found myself in familiar territory, the same corner I step out onto after leaving Union Station: Jackson and Clinton. The fancy people were gone. All you find on this side of the river are UIE students, business folk, and the ever fabulous real people. Clinton to Harrison was home to us. It was our place. And so I walked it, pausing briefly to be of no assistance to a guy who wanted directions to Cermak (I don't know ALL the streets!).

Long ago, I feared walking by the Greyhound station which is always full of less than savory sorts. But today, after being among so many self-important sorts dressed to the nines, I was content to look upon the intimidating folks at the Greyhound station. They were the real people. And oddly, I felt as though they viewed me the same. A mutual respect that led to both of us capable of ignoring each other and not feeling awkward about it. Much the same way you ignore nature as you pass it: it's just part of the background.

UIE was even a sight for my sore eyes (and sore butt at this point)! UIE is for real people--well, as real as college students can be. I might be stretching this here in my good humor. But I went to buy an apple juice and the student cashier was friendly and actually not apathetic. We had a goofy exchange, but it was enough to make me smile. It's the little things.

Sitting on the hard surface of the BSB floor was a deight, also, and I was able to delve into reading Warlock by Wilbur Smith.

My French literature class began at 2pm. Finally, we were able to enter the room when who do I see? Professor Miner! One of the two best French professors UIE has to offer. What really made my day was she was happy to see me, too, and I was able to not see my confidence in speaking my second language flee before my eyes. I successfully said, "J'ai fait une longue promenade à Europa Bookstore!" Which led to stunned questions about the length and if I had truly gone on foot. We chatted a bit as more familiar, yet not so friendly, persons filled the desks.

I nearly groaned aloud when I saw my classmates. These were the same ones I was with for French 201 and 202. Half of them were snobs, who, for some reason never cared for me. One of them in particular looked upon me with hostility that I could not fathom the reason for. I find his French hard to understand, so perhaps I let that show? I'm not sure. Perhaps he found my own French elementary and deemed me not worth his time, which I'd agree with. My spoken French is atrocious and I don't have a perfect ear for it either. But it's no reason to look at me as though I had a third head!

My new French teacher (Prof. Miner was in the previous class) was very nice. She has a good accent, but it seems like she is nervous to teach and has trouble speaking a fluid sentence, one without 50 ums. I am in no way judging, though. Rather, this makes me feel absolutely wonderful. This is because she will be very understanding of her students, and patient as well. In fact, she reminds me of myself because she seems very passionate about her obscure specialization and she makes little inside jokes which she laughs heartily at. I can't begin to tell how many times I've done that with my obscure historical jokes.

The rest of the class, though (or a large handful), was staring at her in much the same way parents usually stare at me. They were judging her, measuring her up, figuring out whether she was worth their respect. Now I remember, they acted like they were happy to see Prof. Miner, but as soon as she was out the door they began to talk badly about her. No doubt they were finding this professor's weakness. I think that is one reason they don't like me: I stick up for the professors or I don't collude in their negative feelings.

I am more often than not on the professor's side, and when I saw their faces and how the professor seemed nervous, it filled me with such anger and I retaliated by listening harder, taking multitudes of notes, and grinning broadly at her jokes followed by a light chuckle. The hostile guy watched me take my notes and when I looked over at him, he was glaring subtly at me with a look that wondered what was I taking notes on. e reminded me of a mean cat that was curious at a distance but vicious up close.

I felt it strange to be so suddenly protective og this teacher, but I think it was because I am proud, at last, to be at UIE. and I refuse to call it UIE anymore. From now on, I'm calling it by its proper name UIC. Originally, I had called it UIE because of the horribly rude and obnoxious students who go there and the mishaps with admissions and advisors, but I now feel it is a disservice to judge UIC by its students. Who are they, after all? It's the professors I need, and thus far they have, for the most part, been absolutely amazing!

I used to despise Chicago, but now, it is a part of me...or rather, I am a part of it. This city ain't so bad after all.

On the other hand, it could just be exhaustion from walking 6-8 miles talking.

Lookit what I am now the proud owner of... A 1/18-scale replica of the Back to the Future Part II DeLorean!









The detail on this thing is top-notch. The gull-wing doors open, the bonnet opens, the wheels fold down to hover, and there's even a flux capacitor in the interior. It's largely made of brushed aluminium - no cheap plastic here. The vehicle weighs around 900g/2 pounds and it definitely looks and feels like a finely-crafted replica and not a cheap toy.

Funnily enough, the store it came from? They had five different DeLorean replicas you could buy. The DeLorean vehicle itself unmodified, a replica from the first movie, a replica from the second movie with hover wheels and a Mr Fusion, a replica from the third movie with vacuum tubes on the bonnet and white-washed wheels, and a replica from the third movie with railroad wheels. Who'd have ever thought there could be so many different DeLoreans.

I was reading the news today when I saw an article about parents who don’t have their kids vaccinated. At first, I was wowed by the immaturity of parents when faced with the realization that other parents don’t have their kids vaccinated. They run away from the kids like they carry the plague. Now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t vaccinate your kids, but I am saying that parents are morons when they discover their parent friend doesn’t raise their kid the same way they do. Only in America, man, only in America. This all usually occurs in the WASP population, I have found, or variants thereof. White America has a wondrous tendency to overreact about everything that wasn’t dramatic in the first place.

I was reading about the shunned parents whining and I began asking myself why I was reading this article still, after seeing the confirmation of idiot parents right there on the screen before my eyes. Then I read the most ridiculous thing I have seen all day: “Many parents who choose not to vaccinate — often because of fear that autism could be caused by vaccines (though there's no scientific evidence of a connection), or they have other philosophical or religious objections —”. The philosophical and religious reasons don’t bother me. People can believe what they want and practice their beliefs how they want so long as they don’t annoy the crap out of everyone around them, especially me. But the part that made me reread the sentence for fear of having misread was the autism bit.

Excuse me? Is that for real? People don’t want to vaccinate their kids for fear of them contracting autism?! What moron made this claim in the first place, and why are people believing it? Parents of today actually BELIEVE that kids will develop autism (contract it like it was the flu) because they were given vaccines? Is this seriously a concern?

Now, let me ask you: are you vaccinated? Question #2: are your contemporaries vaccinated? Question #3..a very important question, to listen closely and answer truthfully: how many autistic people do you know?

My answers are yes, yes, and none. Holy crap, really?! You mean, all these people have been vaccinated and yet none of them shows any hint of autism? Then, please, tell me why and how this became so great an issue that parents are risking much just to prevent a disorder most autistic kids are born with pre-immunization! “Pardon me, Jane, but did you hear vaccines may cause autism?” “No way, Bob! Forget it! I’d risk my kid getting small pox any day over risking him getting autism.”

Do these parents actually stop to think? Do they actually consider logic anymore? This is absurd. As I read on in the article, my stomach grew tighter and tighter with incredulity. I am not sure if all these parents in the article fear autism as though it were some plague that would create an army of Rain Men that will destroy the world as we know it, but I couldn’t get past the notion anyone would think that and I displaced all those thoughts onto these anti-vaccine parents. Farther down the article I saw the anti-v parents are calling their play dates (which are also retarded) with other anti-v’s a secret society.

No! Secret societies are for people who want to change the world for the better and whose groups are illegal. Parents who refuse to vaccinate their kids because the risk of autism might be high because of it don’t deserve a secret society. They deserve to be stuck with giant needles! The great thing about this is if we ever get bombarded with some rubella biological weapon, the parents will be fine because their parents had them vaccinated, but the kids will all perish from this earth. Wow, in the time when people fear biological warfare, I think parents get an A+ for smarts on this one. Clearly, they are thinking ahead.

Now, I’m not pro all vaccines. The flu shot is a waste of time, in my opinion. Do you know how many new flu strains there are each year? At best, scientists discover 5 of them. And whichever 5 those are, they make vaccines for. What about the other 100? So all you fools who vaccinate yourselves against the flu better hope you got the right one. I, personally, have never received a flu shot in my life and I have never contracted the flu. But seeing as how I hate doctors, I’d never know if I had it anyway. Some people who get flu shots get sick with the flu, because those vaccines are just weak forms of the flu. Heh, and by saying that I’ll probably get the flu. Oh well. Too bad. It would have been difficult to prevent anyway.

Let me know when they can block every strain the flu like we can block every strain of IP addresses. I bet by that time, they’ll also find the little virus that causes autism because you know it is totally a virus.

Morons!

Cue inevitable fan outrage, and signs that all might be well.

'...any disappointment from the core fans should not be directed toward Fox.'

Something about that phrasing rubs me up the wrong way. Obviously those who were jacked up about the movie since the earliest stages of conception and happen to be on the message boards cited are going to complain the loudest, and Fox might be forgiven for trying to tone down the uproar. But what about the rest of us who enjoyed the original graphic novel and simply want to see a very decent work of fiction done right? Or those who just like the look of the film and don't want to let some legal wrangling stop it from being seen? 

Obviously I'm not saying that Fox should listen to every single fan opinion that exists on the net - anyone who reads Shortpacked knows how irrationally pig-headed any fandom can be - but the idea that Fox thinks only the people who eat and breathe Watchmen can take issue with the prospect of the film being denied a release does not sit well with me. 

Maybe I'm reading too much into this. I probably am. I certainly hope so.

Two good pieces of news in the notebook front:

-> Pulled out the 40 gig from its little case (the one I’ve been using to make it my Debian Slug disk) and looked up the part number on Toshiba’s site. It’s a 5400 RPM, and is the same size as the old Sager and HP disks. I can live with the 100 Meg/sec spec as given, that’s more than I’ll normally draw in most instances, other than installs. The 16 Meg buffer is a *very* nice plus though!

-> Debian ‘lenny 2′ installed just as beautifully as Etch did, with the added bonus of a working wireless card (after getting the firmware setup of course - for which a link to the appropriate instructions was included in the ‘dmesg’ boot sequence). That is a first for me and Linux, and doubly pleased when I discovered that in Linux, I had more hotspots mapped out and with better strengths than in WinXP (most locked though, good move in an apartment building ;) ).

So, new plans:

1) Put 40 gig disk in HP, re-install ‘Lenny 2′ and get wireless up again.

2) 60 gig disk goes in the external case (which is USB-2 and FireWire), re-format with ext3 and FAT16 partitions. Probably 40/20, respectively.

3) Drop a VirtualBox Guest OS (WinXP) on the external disk. See if I can get the old Half-Life games running on it, plus a couple other things that are needed for work (and is only in, or works better with, Windows - like the Exchange webmail, that is a damn sight better to use in IE).

The eventual goal - if this all works - is to look into converting the desktop to Linux, or a Linux/WinXP dual-boot (the latter by dropping in a new SATA disk just for Linux). It will be nice to finally use all 4G of the current system’s memory; It can hold 8G IIRC but I’d have to consider a dual-boot with Vista instead of XP to make that upgrade a more viable reality.

The only major issues I see in the games department are Oblivion (’nuff said) and perhaps Uru (though the CC variant I believe will run on Wine OK). Hence the sad need for a dual-boot - I don’t know if even a Quad-Core will be able to run something like Oblivion in a VM well.

–TSK

PS - As so the NSLU2 ‘Slug’ body, its been put away again. Once I’m happy with Linux on the HP, it can sit on the table when not ‘on duty’ and be used as the long-duration login system. Lord, I did not realize how much I depended on UNIX console access until I actually tried a system without one…

Warning: long rant ahead. Summary: Terrible movie. This movie was a huge disappointment, from the very beginning. I had been wondering, before seeing the film, how Lucasfilm would handle the opening, since the Star Wars movies usually start with the now emblematic text crawl, (which sets the stage for the action in the movie) at the [...]

Yes, yes, been busy, not updating, blah de blah. I'm sure this blogs readers (that's right - BOTH of you) were still able to sleep at night. More artwork from the delicious Steph Jackson, this one being a random three part comic idea I brainstormed a while back. Presented here is her take on the first part. Since she easily gets distracted by shiny things, don't expect the rest anytime soon. If you're nice I might post Back to Reality Chapter 4 tomorrow. Good? Good.









Yes yes.

Remember a few months back when I posted the first part of a three part comic featuring Jules and Ed? Naa? Fair enough. Well, here's the second part. Have fun.















And yes, for the record, I'm a huge fan of City of Death. One of the best stories of the Tom Baker era.

I finished another milestone in my quest for a D'ni clock today: I have finalised the geartrain and each gear's positioning. The prorahntee are indicated on the left, followed by the gorahntee at the top, tahvotee on the right and gahrtahvotee/bells on the bottom. This diamond pattern is a very efficient, compact design; it's the best design I've come up with so far and I don't think I'll ever come up with something better.

(click for a larger view)



After peering at this new design for a few minutes, it occurred to me that it just so happens to look a lot like Kadish's Ahnonay Cathedral Stained Glass (300KB PNG). Very close, isn't it? This is just too good an opportunity for me to pass up a reference. And I needed a front engraving design on my clock, anyway.

A few hours later... Here is the front face to the clock. Slightly modified, dimensions slightly rounded, but it looks pretty close.

(click for a larger view)



Not bad, for a few hours work. It looks nice and complicated-seeming, but at the same time appears very simplistic. I quite like it.

This is the entire clock as it appears right now, with all layers visible. Looks a little like a huge, complicated mess, but it's actually very simple in its design. For scale, the entire thing will measure 32cm/12.6" in diameter.

(click for a larger view)




In other news, one of our birds died today. Lil' Boyfinch. Finchy (his mate) is really depressed over it. He wasn't attacked by another bird, and he didn't seem sick at all. But he knew he was dying, as he had enough time to go curl up in the corner of his cage before he died. This also leaves me once again as the only male in a house of 8 females.

School starts tomorrow. While that is really annoying because UIE reeks, I can't help but be overly excited about going back. I'm not so thrilled about my French class which is about feminism in African literature due to the fact all this feminism junk annoys me and also the fact that African French is so darn difficult! I'm excited about my other classes, though. I'm taking my first Spanish class ever! It made me recall the very first time I began to learn French way back when I was a freshman in high school. The prospect of becoming trilingual is thrilling to me! Then, my other class is going to be so darn cool. Unfortunately, Professor Awesome won't be my teacher, but it's still going to be an awesome class. It's Myths and Epics of the Near East!!!! We get to study Mesopotamian and Egyptian mythology! What could be better? This is so exciting!!!!

Not to mention, I have just realized I am a few classes away from having a minor in Classical Civilization! GAK! Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod. Yes, seriously, I think I'm the only one in the universe who gets excited about this stuff. Except Zahi Hawass. Yes, I have made my decision. This week I am marching into UIC and announcing my Minor to the world! And finally changing my major to French hahahaha. Yeah, I haven't done that yet. I have only 4 more French classes to take after this semester, and I haven't yet changed my major. What a dolt! It might keep me at UIC for way more than I want to be, but I think that minor would be incredibly useful! Inagine, being able to go around saying I have a minor in Classical Civilization! Maybe down the line I could turn that into a major! Or even better, become a full-blown archaeologist with a specialization in...blimey, what would I specialize in? The Near East is really cool. Mesoamerica is even cooler...I just don't know!

Anyway, I have finally gotten in touch with my priest to be. I was pacing madly as I spoke to him and I felt guilty the whole time that this poor chap who never gave up trying to contact me had to spend so much time doing it. The man actually seemed thrilled to finally chat with me! We are to have a meeting at 5:00 in his office. GAK! A one-on-one conversation with a priest! My very first one! I'm so ecsatic I may pee my pants! Do you think that will be a problem? I hope he doesn't ask me too many scary questions. And it feels like a date, hahaha...I'm already trying to decide what I should wear!

Now that that's taken care of, I can fully turn my attention to my anger about the latest idiocy UIE has done. For some reason, all of my French teachers from literature classes have found it charming to have us wandering all over Chicago to find our books. I have to travel 2.7 miles (that's almost 3 miles!) to a pretentious European bookstore to get my books. Why they couldn't have just had UIE get them is beyond me. They must get their logic from France. I know, I know, they are cheaper, but couldn't they just buy them and have us pay them back? The book seller is a nice guy, though, and the walk would do me good. He was extremely helpful when I told him my professor was genius and Yale graduate Professor Miner who has to be the nicest, most helpful professor in the world. She took her class very seriously and the other studesnt hated her for it, talked smack about her behind her back, but what they didn't realize was that she pushed us beyond our limits and did something to our French understanding that we never had before. If there's one nice thing I can say about UIE it's that their professors are 100% first class. They know their stuff and I listen to that, even if I do ditch a lot. Not this semester, though. I can't, and I won't.

I really do wish, though, that UIE could put some of their classes online. They're starting to really annoy me with their terrible schedules. How am I expected to work full time if they keep putting classes at odd times that make it impossible to do anything? I'd really like to know.

So today shall be spent on deciding what all I'm going to take for tomorrow. 2 classes tomorrow. I need to buy my train ticket. And I need to buy my blasted books. They better not cost me an arm and a leg. (HA!) Time to figure my costs...

Lately, I've been experimenting a lot with aging, weathering, and distressing paints and materials. Smearing with acetone, baking in the oven, and rubbing with sand paper. Pretty fun stuff!



I admit I'm not entirely satisfied with this one yet. Might bring some more colors and dippiness into it.


In other news, business who planned on hiring me after my interview in mid July still hasn't done so. The boss is out of town 85% and hasn't given me a proper orientation yet. Right now, he's down state charter fishing. Whaa? I don't know how this place is operating without him there or without the designer position filled. But it does seem like cool place to work...

I've been getting cold shoulder silent treatment everywhere. It's irritating. :/

Note to self - do NOT piss off the internet hate machine.

And before you feel sorry for this chap, just remember he sells Barrel Roll t-shirts. Enough said, methinks?

Remember Knightmare, that fantastic children's show that aired on CITV about teams of teenage D&Ders who bravely periled chroma key dungeons for glory and win? Gods it was brilliant. And hard as a golem's gonads too. In 8 seasons, only 8 teams ever made it to the end of their quests. The rest were crushed, skewered, burnt to a crisp and decapitated for ignorance, clumsiness, idiocy or just plain unluckiness. It remains one of my favourite shows growing up, and was more than likely responsible for my love of all things fantasy (by which I mean decent fantasy, of course. You can take your Chronicles of Gor and stick em up your Cabot).

Anyhow, for the last several years now I've been getting involved in several Knightmare fan projects, which have been recently namechecked in the latest issue of The Eye Shield, the show's official fanzine. You can find it here, and the Knightmare audio drama site here.

 For those who want to know what all the fuss is about, I recommend checking out the official website. It contains overviews, pictures and some highlights from the run.

The 34,000-acre Hyalite Canyon—part of the Gallatin National Forest—is a beautiful mountain valley that rests between the Gallatin Canyon and Paradise Valley south of Bozeman in Montana.



Water from the mountain range drains through numerous streams and waterfalls into a large reservoir at the center, which supplies irrigation and drinking water for the city. Yum! Thankfully, most people seem to respect the area and the freedom to explore with in it.



Palisade Falls.



Grotto Falls.

A strange thing happened to me today. I saw a big thundercloud move down over Half Dome, and it was so big and clear and brilliant that it made me see many things that were drifting around inside of me; things that relate to those who are loved and those who are real friends.

For the first time I know what love is; what friends are; and what art should be.

Love is a seeking for a way of life; the way that cannot be followed alone; the resonance of all spiritual and physical things….

Friendship is another form of love — more passive perhaps, but full of the transmitting and acceptances of things like thunderclouds and grass and the clean granite of reality.

Art is both love and friendship and understanding: the desire to give. It is not charity, which is the giving of things. It is more than kindness, which is the giving of self. It is both the taking and giving of beauty, the turning out to the light of the inner folds of the awareness of the spirit. It is a recreation on another plane of the realities of the world; the tragic and wonderful realities of earth and men, and of all the interrelations of these.


- Ansel Adams
June 10, 1937

Blimey. Just coming up to halfway through the month, and I've posted 5 entries? True lunacy, to be sure. Think I'm getting the hang of this regular updating malarky. *cue gasps and fainting from a certain Eleri shaped person in the audience* Bet you a shiny sixpence I won't be able to keep it up.

Now then now then now then. Now that Underworld's done and dusted, I can now start work on my next AGS project. It's something slightly more ambitious, a new trilogy set in Reality-on-the-Norm that could potentially spin out into a new ongoing story. I'll see about posting some backgrounds and sprites in the next few weeks or so. In the meantime, have the next chapter of my other RON project, Back to Reality. Featuring zombies, anthropomorphic personifications, and pioneers of Gonzo Journalism. Politics has never been so smexy.

‘... Which leaves a minor deficit of 1,205 dollars in the construction and maintenance budget for the year ahead. I’m sure with careful allocation any problems with this reduced amount can be overcome. Of course, there may have to be some compromises.’

‘Such as?’ inquired Gower, struggling against ever increasing odds to keep his attention focused on the speaker. He couldn’t understand it. The undead didn’t even get tired, and yet he’d had to suppress at least three yawns so far.

‘Well, we may have to postpone the re-opening of the Reality Museum by at least a couple of weeks’, the Treasurer continued. ‘There’s already been some minor cutbacks in the building materials used, the inspectors will need more time to make sure the foundations are secure. The proposed renovation of the front of the A. Hahn library will also have to wait until year as well; our reports say the original estimates were slightly beneath the final figures. This of course doesn’t factor in the remaining repairs needed for the Reality Hospital; several wings are still out of commission after the chaos two years ago…’

Gower winced at the memory of the events which the Realiser had dubbed the ‘Night of the Kittens’. Many buildings in the town had to be repaired or completely torn down as a result of the rampant horde, and the Reality Hospital had taken it on the chin. The totaled cost of the clean-up had been astronomical. He briefly felt a pang of guilt at his hand in the event, but quickly pushed it from his mind.

He wondered idly if the people on the street ever considered how difficult it was to get Reality back on its feet all the time. Disasters, strange occurrences and things of a random and bizarre nature seemed to befall the town on a regular basis. It seemed odd to him that his citizens could witness the unraveling of Causality in front of their very eyes and seemed to do no more than raise an eyebrow, yet would be the first to complain when the drains packed up, or no one had taken their rubbish away.

Maybe that was just it, he thought. They just want things to carry on as normal, and for tomorrow to be just like today. Never mind how it’s done, or how it works - only that it does.

He was suddenly aware of the silence around the boardroom table, and assumed that the Chief Treasurer’s report on the budget was over. He quickly snapped out of his ruminations and returned his attention to present events.

‘Yes. Thank you for that Roland, it’s good to know the city’s finances are in capable hands. Now then, next on the agenda... ah yes, your new proposal, Thomas.’

Three chairs down from the mayor Thomas Baines, a fairly young politician, perked his ears up at hearing his name mentioned, and his formerly bored expression was suddenly replaced with one of undivided attention.

‘Yes... a most... courageous proposal indeed.’ admitted the Mayor’s campaign advisor, poring over the document in question. Although it was impossible for him to do so, the impression given was that he was raising his eyebrows. ‘Certainly different, I’ll give it that.’

‘It meets with City Hall’s approval, then?’

‘Ha!’ barked a gravelly voice, belonging to newly instated ward councilor Dr. Raoul Duke. ‘Courageous and different? Wise up boyo. When someone says those words in this room, it means ‘dead on arrival!’

Thomas bristled at being spoken to with such blatant contempt, but held his tongue - based on the stories he heard, the former Gonzo Journalist he was sitting across from was not someone he wished to antagonize. Particularly when he was sitting in a room with fire extinguishers close at hand.

‘But Mr. Mayor’ he said, ignoring Duke’s outburst, ‘you cannot deny that it is an issue that we need to resolve. The safety and wellbeing of the citizens of this town was something you vowed to address at your last press conference. All of the problems this town has faced in the last five years can be traced to a group of select individuals. Remove them, and you remove the problems - precisely what this legislation would give you the legal authority to do!’

The shadowy figure of the campaign advisor sighed in annoyance. An impressive feat, considering how he lacked a respiratory system.

‘Mr. Baines, this is not the first time we’ve been over this,’ said Death. ‘I do agree that on paper, the granting of emergency powers to expel troublesome citizens from the town is an attractive proposal, if somewhat extreme. I’m sure there are a number of people each of us wished they didn’t have to deal with,’ trying his best not to catch Duke’s eye as he said so. ‘But this is democracy, not a dictatorship. Who would go? What would precisely constitute “a serious and current risk”, as you put it? And who would make these decisions? I myself would feel uneasy about so much authority being exercised in the hands of one person. That would lead us down the slippery slope to totalitarianism. Take it from me, I’ve seen it happen.’

‘Well, obviously it wouldn’t just be one person, if you’ll read section-‘

‘Give it up, Mao’ seethed Duke. ‘What you’re proposing puts the Enabling Act to shame. This is the grossest breach of civil liberties I’ve come across in my twenty six years of political experience. Nobody with a shred of goodness and purity in them will back this sham of a proposition.’

‘And what, precisely, does a drug addled, gun obsessed failure of a journalist know of goodness and purity, doctor?’ spat Baines maliciously, his patience finally coming to an end.

Duke lunged across the table wildly and grabbed Baines’s tie, yanking him out of his chair. ‘MORE THAN A GRASPING SYCOPHANTIC NAZI EVER COULD, YOU FU-’

‘Gentlemen, please!’ said Gower, raising his hands. ‘Let’s keep this civil, shall we?’ The two stared each other daggers for what seemed like eternity and then returned to their seats, trying to maintain their collective dignity.

‘We clearly have a sensitive issue being raised’ began Gower, trying to restore a semblance of order to the proceedings. ‘While ineloquently put, I can understand Dr. Duke’s objections to the proposition, and I doubt he is alone in possessing them. It is true that most of the town’s more... bizarre occurrences can be attributed to a group of select individuals, several of which I confess to harbouring little regard for. And yes, if they were to be evicted, then I am sure a large number of the populace would sleep a little safer at night. But that is worth nothing if it comes at the cost of our citizen’s rights and freedoms. If we have to sacrifice our basic liberties for safety, then we deserve to have neither.’

‘Hear hear!’ cried Duke, earning a weary side glance from Death.

‘However’, continued Gower, ‘I cannot deny there are several valid points Thomas has raised. People have expressed their displeasure at living with those who have jeopardized their lives and those of others in the past. It does seem that this town has a poor track record when it comes to securing a conviction. Whether or not that is down to our law enforcement remains to be seen, but-‘

‘Lies and slander’ snarled Sheriff Morrison. ‘I do mah job no matter th’ risk. I gave mah leg up just to bring in a chicken, and don’t’cha forget it!’

‘Of course’ assured Gower quickly. ‘The point is, gentlemen, that something does need to be done. The people of this town will not tolerate having their lives continually put at risk. They may even choose to express their displeasure at the ballot boxes next year.’

There was a taut silence as the occupants of the boardroom considered the repercussions of this last statement.

‘So... what are we going to do?’ piped up Magistrate Hartman.

‘I think it is a decision that lies with the people’ decided Gower. ‘If everyone agrees, we’ll organize a ballot in the coming months and let the town have their own say on it. If it is deemed to be important enough to them, then the bill will be passed. How does that sound?’

There were noddings around the table - it seemed a fair compromise. Even Duke shrugged in approval. The only person who kept their opinion to themselves was Baines, but he wisely chose to keep schtum. He simply averted his gaze and glared at the table, clearly agitated by this setback.

‘Then it is decided. Now then, moving on...’