Mea Culpa
Mood:  accident prone
Topic: A Hello to Arms
So, I think I might be a bit of a liar...

...well, that's not true: I f**king know I'm a liar, what with all the 'daily update' talk earlier this month and all.

Truth is, I got sidetracked again (wouldn't you know it...) and there ain't much of an excuse. While droning on with ROE I've been halting and hemming at TYPERS, and I get pissed off more than usual with every artificial wall I hit on the way (despite the occasional spelling or grammatical error in a chapter I am, actually, very perfectionistic about things; I just don't have the ability to create perfection, as such).

Add to that a recent addition to my daily routine- a five-to-seven mile walk/run regimen- and time gets even scarcer.

People keep comin' here checking things out, though, and a few e-mails trickle to me. And (most importantly) I myself really feel that gnawing ache when I slack as such, so I again resolve not to tarry too much.

The secret to life is to learn to tarry just the right amount, after all.

Begotten, not made.
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: General

She was born in a cold hardscrabble backwater surrunded by disease, suffering, and death.

She was raised as an awkward, ungainly stepchild, with her treatment topping any complaint Cinderella might have.

She was stupid enough, audacious enough, to think of herself as more than that, and when the dust cleared she was left alone in a big, cold world to mature on her own and try to defend her honor.

Since that time she has been a worker, a soldier, a consort, a princess, a queen, a whore, a lover, a fighter, a champion, a conceder, a uniter, a divider, a mother, a daughter, a leader, a follower, a heart-throb and a source of unbearable heartache.

And today, on her 232nd birthday, while she's still unspeakably young and though she bears a decidedly mixed track record in her short, meteoric time, she can only be addressed with one moniker above any other:

She's a Lady.

Here's to the best damned country in the history of humankind. God bless America, and happy Fourth of July.

Now, then: go "celebrate the birth of your nation by blowing up a small piece of it"...

and, thus, we're all really just chips off the old block.

The only 'unclean' thing about him is what he left in that police hat...
Mood:  caffeinated
Topic: Random Political Diatribe

Right, so the Muslim community in Scotland (all ten of them... no, I kid, but it's a solid minority, what...) is gettin' all hot and bothered over...

This unholy demon of evil intention and ill repute.

...

*sigh*

Well, the idea here is that, of course, dogs're considered 'unclean' by Quaran-standards and, well, therefore (apparently) any reference to the fact that Scottish police use them must be repressed in all facets of Scottish society, including the offending telephone cards being sent out with that adorable li'l guys' face on 'em.

Kinda funny that, technically, by Islamic law, Harems are one of the only things that aren't actually considered Haraam as far as things go, if you get my meaning...

I just said that for the word play: I know that it's actually us Yanks that're currently having the most problems with polygamy, but count the Quaran as one of the books that explicitly condones such a thing... 

I digress... 

Anyway, I can appreciate the cultural aspect to all this: you wanna think of a dog- mankind's greatest ally in the animal world for 100,000+ years and counting (like it or not)- as filthy, untouchable and, well, evil, then you go right ahead. They eat 'em in Korea, after all, and I eat cows, which are themselves venerated by Hindus, so everyone's got the right to their own opinions and practices.

But here's something that ain't an opinion: police forces around the world use dogs 'cause they're fantastic animals to work with (given that 100,000+ years thing I previously mentioned). What I can see here is the beginning of a slippery slope: today it's outrage over a picture, and tomorrow outrage over the very sight of a cop and his canine ("I cannot adhere to any laws administered by this man", one religious man might say, "because he associates with those unclean beasts".)

Then Scotland'll find its whole canine police force in the doghouse, so to speak.

As far as stories of outrage go, the anti-postcard-people in this one are certainly barking up the wrong tree.

But always remember: when it comes to Political Correctness (especially in the UK) even an idiot's bombastic voice can carry a far stronger bite than its bark...

...alright, I'm done, I think.

The law of lenzes...
Topic: General

One thing I kept semi-active during my haitus is the shutterbuggin' thing...

I've got a small collection of stuff as 'Revolver Ocelot' on Wikimedia.

Some of it's downright decent, I think, but of 1000's of pictures cluttering my HD, the fact that these're the best kinda shows what a lousy success rate I have when it comes to snapping shots.

'Course, if I had the drive, I could always plop down 600-plus-bucks for an entry-level semi-professional camera and get the REAL good shots.

Or I could save up to snag a PS3 when the price drops so I can play MGS4:GOTP...

...decisions, decisions... 

'cause there ain't no doubt I love this laaaand....
Mood:  celebratory
Now Playing: ...see title...
Topic: A Hello to Arms

Well, now, it seems that during the week the justices of the US Supreme Court went and upheld the constitutionality of... well... the Constitution.

The Second Amendment actually means something, apparently!

Whatever one's view on gun politics, I've always been amused by people who believed that the 'militia clause' in the 2nd meant that only members of the armed forces could have firearms (remember: during revolutionary times a 'militiaman' was ANYONE of fighting age who had something to fight for).

On top of that, to believe that the Second Amendment was meant to TAKE AWAY a right from the people would be to believe that it is the ONLY RULE in the Bill of Rights that LIMITS personal freedoms: EVERY OTHER ONE of the original amendments either granted the people extra freedoms, or limited the government's own freedom.

Now, we've since created such freedom-limiting amendments, but it should be noted that any laws added to the Constitution that limit freedom often suffer terrible fates... 

As I've said before, I agree with this interpretation of the constitution, and wholeheartedly support the right of law-abiding and responsible citizens to keep AND BEAR arms (and by using the term 'responsible', yes: I am not averse to background checks and other safety measures).

As for 'gun violence'? Tell you what: add an additional 20 years on to the sentence for anyone who commits a crime with a firearm. I'd support that.

Ironically, many of the people who so loathe the Second Amendment do not support such draconian anti-violence laws, though...

After all: the gun made 'em do it, right?

Whatever your personal view on this ruling, one must understand that it's absolutely the right one, and not just a shot in the dark. 

Time keeps on slippin'
Mood:  down
Topic: General

The first time I stopped posting here regularly it was Tripod's fault (as I've previously stated).

For this whole month, though, well... that was my fault.

The blog's downtime kinda got me used to not having to spend the laborious 5-minutes a day I would normally spend working on this wonderful piece of art (insert sarcasm mark). And as free time has gone, I hit a wall in ROE that required copious attention on my part, and it was nice to drop this website thing like a sack of flour.

Buuuuuuut flour makes bread, don't you know, and by not keeping up with the posts here I've gotten more slackerish (it's a word... look it up... yeah...) in other aspects of my creative processes. So, bottom line is, this site's back up and running, and damned if I won't post here DAILY for a time, at least.

If nothing else, it'll keep reminding me to finish the rest of "His Moral Antipathy" (and no, the current chapter ain't done yet to my satisfaction). This breakneck speed of delivery makes me the DMV of authors, I know, but sometimes real life has a way of selfishly interfering with the wonderful world of fantasy.

And, if nothing else, the sabbatical has given me renewed insight into where I need to go with the overall story in TYPERS. When it comes to deliberations I have a penchant for measuring thrice, and cutting not a once: I've always known where I'm going with this story, but how to get there's always been the sticky wicket...

And, to carry an absurd analogy further, I'm now committed to smashing the croquet ball through the uneven course, rather than just tring to adjust that damn wicket's location on the green.

Maybe that's not clear enough... 

In other words, it's past time that I started actually playing through this thing.

And picking up on this site is the first step in picking up the mallet. 

AAAAAAAAGH!!!!

um...

er...

so, yeah...

yeeeeeeeah... 

In addition to being a grade-A moron of the highest possible caiber, that man in the video is also suffering from a little ailment called Argyria (go on, say it out loud; that word friggin' rolls off the tongue better n' even 'cellar door'. Take that, Tolkein!

This blue-balled genius used electroplated silver rubbing componds directly on his face. Still does, even, and all to clear up some acne, or whatever.

You'd think he woulda stopped when his friggin' skin turned blue, wouldn't you?

Whatever.

Anyway, unlike Carotenemia, Argyria is not harmless. All that silver eventually starts attacking your guts and your brain. Not that you wouldn't already have to have a compromized brain pan to start such a treatment in the first place, but if this hillbilly twit keeps these treatments up he's gonna find himself looking down the barrel of a very nasty li'l coma.

Well, not physically looking, of course, but in the figurative sense...

I'm digging up this stuff for research, 'natch. In R.O.E. I think I'm gonna have the main villianess, Lady Nous, be a regular consumer of high-grade silver shards to the point where her skin gets all blue-ified...

...don't ask why: there's about three different reasons, offhand, and it goes to symbolism, as much as the part about her taking crude-oil baths...

 ...nevermind...

But the physical manifestation of Argyria is kinda disappointing: when I first heard about it I somehow thought it meant that the sufferer's veins got a high-definition contrast, and that the whites of their eyes started blue-ing, too (consider, for example, Obadiah Stane's paralyzing sound emitter weapon from that most intelligent superhero movie, Iron Man, and the short-term on-screen effects it caused)

And I'd like to point out that I ain't ripping them off: I've had this idea for this character for months, now.

Eh: I think that kinda veiny, blue-eyed pallor is how I'll describe Nous' appearance, anyway, just because the idea of it is so... so 'off'.

And to make a memorable, unsettling villian, well: 'off' is a very good place to start. 

Phoenix, sans the ashes...
Mood:  a-ok
Topic: Pseudoscientific Musings

What do you do when your own blog won't let you log in for two f**king weeks?

The answer is: not much...

Not that I needed a new reason to hate Tripod, or anything, but I believe that when I bloody friggin' type in a username of 'shanekentknolltrey' I should get access to this thing. Or at least I'm supposed to.

Tch! Well, I don't wanna criticize the wonky powers that be anymore: after all, I could end up getting locked out permanently.

The short answer is that my password got changed; I still don't know why. I do know that I was able to eventually change it back, hosanna in the highest.

Let's see: what's happened during my interminable abscence, eh?

Phoenix landed, for one, and this time the software gurus at NASA didn't confuse pounds and newtons, saints be praised, and the craft also didn't prematurely cut its descent engines, either...

Lord: Mars research is expensive, ain't it? And with our current track record, we shouldn't even be thinking about manner flights any time soon.

The Red Planet might even be better off without us: who knows? 

Everyone know we need to go to Jupiter, anyway: it should be the 'monolithic' crown jewel of our space program. I can think of 2001 reasons to go, and we'd really have a 'hal' of a good time, provided the vessel had a good bowman or two up front: someone who's wanted to reach for the 'stars' even as a little 'child'...

(yeah: this is the stuff you've been missing for two weeks. However can one survive without it? ;) 

What a pisser of a bitch...
Mood:  quizzical
Topic: Scientific Progress...

Think about this li'l nugget of wisdom:

Fighter pilots have bladders, too.

...yeah: I think we all can see the problem from here. Those good ol' boys 'n girls can probably even smell it, too (and feel it)...

eeegh; that's enough of that.

Far be it for these aereal aces to have to wallow around in their own urine, so enter a private company with a certain device that acts (somewhat) like a port-a-potty you squeeze between your legs:

The AMXD!!!

That's a pretty common-sense solution to a very... sticky... situation.

Not a bad solution, really. My Allied Military R-Type pilots in TYPERS have a chemical support system that injects things directly into their bodies to suppress urine formation and urine storage in the short term (ie: atmospheric flight)

...anything longer (ie: protracted spaceflight) requires a different solution...

...enough on that... 

Seeing's how the most advanced fighter aircraft in the world right now is the F-22, and it barely has the power to control its own avionics (ie: extremely primitive 'self-repair' style technology, shunting of power, fluids, et al in response to catastrophic injury... mostly a budgetary boondoggle with overcomplicated bells n' whistles, but what do I know?) I don't think we're gonna see a fighter plane with the ability to minister to a pilot's body like that for some time.

Until then, there's AMXD. Unless our men and women in flightsuits would prefer to be stuck with a urinary catheter, of course.

The answer to that question... well, is a strafing run in the direction of the person asking it. 

Scientific Progress goes diving for cover... 

Just wait 'till I'm a few hundred miles away before opening THAT sucker up...
Mood:  incredulous
Now Playing: The "Raider's Theme" from ROTLA
Topic: Pseudoscientific Musings

Here's a hardly-novel story from across the desert sands.

*Yawn* Yes, yes: we'll have the Ark in no time, and all that. Heard it before, but I've yet to see the damn thing and its stunning tablets of law sitting in a museum yet.

...uh: these treasure hunters should remember that, assuming they find the thing, it supposedly kills on contact, so wear thick gloves, people.

Personally I think that the Ark is a bit inaccessible to us flesh-and-bloods at this point in time... Doesn't matter: it'd be more than nice to have the vessel and its contents on display (precluding any muderous angels or kill-on-contact abilities, mind you...) but as spiritual laws go, we've already had an updated version of that program installed on our spiritual hard-drives anyway, so the Ark is, in the final analysis, moot.

...unless you're Jewish. In that case, go wild: its the definitive bond between yourselves and El Shaddai, after all...

(makes you wonder: would the state of Israel attempt to claim ownership of the thing when it's found? Y'know: a-la Spain and shipwreck salvagers? Of course, the stakes here are slightly higher than just a paltry half-a-billion dollars-worth of gold bullion...) 

As for me, I'm content to let such artifacts (assuming they still exist in this plane of existence) rest.

Godspeed, in any event...