Mood:  don't ask

Guess who decided to crawl out from behind one of my tank's filter column as I spot fed my fire shrimp ten minutes ago?...

That son of a bitch! Three weeks I've gone without hide nor hair of him (he doesn't really have hair anyway, but... you know what I mean...) and then, not a day after I place an order for a replacement dragonet with the good people at SaltWaterFish.com, not a DAY after, the little bastard comes poking out of the back of the tank...

...yeee-eee-eee...

Now, I provide enough space behind the rockwork in the tank so that, concievably, any fish could live their entire life back there without ever coming near the front glass (though it'd be a tight fit...), but just based on the law of averages I usually see all my fish at least every other day...

Draygon is a bastard: plain and simple. And I've already bought him a little roomie, as I've said, that I cannot refund. I hear tell that mandarins tend to fight with each other unless they're mated pairs. Eh: the tank should be big enough for the two of 'em to stay out of each other's way....

...and if they don't? Well: Draygon'll kill the li'l replacement, cementing his position as the a**hole of my tank.

If you'll excuse me: I need a stiff drink... 

EDIT:  In retrospect, I assume that all the copepods I dumped in the tank prior to the replacement dragonet's arrival must've coaxed him out of the muck beds in the back and to the surface so he could chow down on some quality food.

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 5:54 PM MNT

Updated: Friday, 15 February 2008 6:07 PM MNT

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Mood:  down

All signs point to the fact that one of my fish has gone to the great big ocean in the sky.

I say the signs 'point to'  this conclusion because:  a) Draygon (my Mandarin Dragonet) is a pretty secretive fellow, and I only saw him every couple of days at a time, if I'm lucky and  b) my tank is a most efficient ecosystem, and fish corpses don't last very long at all before they become 'one with the reef', as I euphemistically put it. In fact, I've never seen a fish corpse floating in my tank ever, and I've gone through a few fish in my time.

Anyway, I've already ordered a 'replacement-part' for the tank (Draygon Mark II) and I'm stockin' up on some tasty, tasty copepods, in case that was an issue in the previous fish's demise.

I sound glib and ho-hum about it, but in point of fact that was one of my best fishes (and 2 years old, I think) and if I were to lose a fish, that one wouldn't have been my first choice...

And yes: I tend to name all my fish, too... lots of people do it... I'm told...

...it's perfectly normal.... 

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 3:41 PM MNT

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Mood:  bright

I'm not the only one wasting my time with utterly stupid stuff, as this video link I was provided with clearly shows (although, in this case, the result is f**king hilarious...)

YouTube presents: metal gear kitty!

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 4:56 PM MNT

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Mood:  spacey

I'm giving myself more permission to be incredibly stupid:

Alright: I'm done amusing myself with this one-trick pony...

I think... it's damn unproductive, huh?

And, hell: for the record: this ain't even the best Metal Gear parody starring cats on the internet, IMO...

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 7:55 PM MNT

Updated: Monday, 11 February 2008 7:59 PM MNT

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Mood:  silly

 (uh, it's a biiiiiiig picture, and I'm too lazy to resize it, so... well, deal with it, huh?)

I both took and doctored the photo (nice, huh? ;) but I don't own the pussy that's pictured here: these animals are neat as hell, but also ungodly expensive.

And with their sense of stealth, they have a nasty habit of disappearing on 'ya...

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 2:06 AM MNT

Updated: Monday, 11 February 2008 2:15 AM MNT

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Mood:  a-ok

Not that I wanna keep whining about wine, as it's a tired topic (the subject gets punned-down easily, doesn't it?), but this li'l study from across the pond piqued my interest.

Makes sense, mind you. Part of the problem is that the researchers appeared to use a general pool of wine tasters for the study and not a group of vinophiles (like myself) or bona-fide connasseurs (of which I have neither the disposable income nor the palate to become...)

Just goes to show that the whole cognitive dissonance thing is less a nebulous Freudian academic process and quite real: an almost quantifiable phenomenon (note that they actually scanned the tasters' noggins for regions that lit-up with each sip). This mental process can lead to the ultra-humerous situation of ignorant parties ordering a bottle of pricy, yet ruined, wine at a restaurant and then chatting together about how 'sensual' and 'complex' the 'boquet' is...

...(a friend of mine stumbled upon just such a scene one day upon encoutering a tablefull of friends; with one offered sip her face became so scrunched-up that the sommelier came over and tested the bottle himself: it had, he immediately deduced, turned to vinager. The wine steward apologized to the table, but they were so red-faced that all they really wanted in return was their check...) 

I think one quote from the story sums everything up nicely:

"Expectation is a huge part of wine appreciation."

Now, that law supposedly decreases with knowledge and exposure to wine culture, but still: wouldn't you think that, as a rule, this phrase would even apply just a teensy bit to even the highest levels of the wine world?

Eh: Scientific Progress doesn't know, and at the moment it's too busy chugging a $250 cabernet to care...

...at least, Scientific Progress thinks it's a $250 bottle... 

Tastes like it, anyway. 

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 9:30 PM MNT

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Mood:  caffeinated

What a week...

Things've been rough lately, but the upshot is that I've spent a bunch of time wallowing in feces (figuratively) and slamming out the next chapter of Typers (literally: I beat my head against a wall to fix any writer's blockage that crops up...) 

And I'm seein' stars, at the moment...

Anyway, time for the Super Bowl, and who can you pick? I don't hate either team, but I've got no love for 'em, either. In the end I've gotta root for the Pats' 'perfect season' in lieu of upping Eli Manning, the Scrappy-Doo of sports, to star-status.

(I feel kinda bad, actually: in the books I use his older brother Peyton's name as the codename for an unseen 'runner' of the Antipathy Committee... he's the only runner who gets killed to date, but the reference is a form of flattery... I think)

Might be an interesting game, though. Hell: how could it not be with the number 42 in its title (gatekeepers should check each patron at the game to make sure they don't have two heads...)

Ah: and there's one other thing: a botched piece of 'Tart' (that's "TYPERS art"... clever, huh... right...?)

 To hell with you all, then.

A reader would tilt their head like a dog and wonder why I'd make a piece of art dedicated to Serafino Grafsteen. Well, this was supposed to represent Aryl Sven Wraith but, like all images I've tried to make of him, didn't turn out right. The face came out quite young and quite unlike Wraith's shady mug, but I thought that it DID look an awful lot like that young VP from the Gouden Preek Corporation.

He's pic-worthy because, 'natch, he becomes far more important later on (and yes: there's an actual reason that he keeps a mad raven perched upon his shoulder, but as it turns out that's not the only 'black bird' he's interested in*)

*(see: the pilots wear black suits, and are semi-derisively called  'Hatchlings', and... ah: nevermind)

And shall I go into the future with my writing once again? Quote the writer: nevermore.

The comming chapter's coming up within the coming week; come hell or high water.

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 3:10 PM MNT

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Mood:  blue

...Sticker-Shock ahoy...

Shane is going to Edinburgh in the, well, relatively near future (it's a bloody long ways-away, actually, but in the event of such trips I count the months on a daily basis... uh, you know what I mean...)

...forget it...)

Anyway my point is that someone with Scottish blood who can claim genuine kinship to a clan (mine's MacDougall, incidentally) is allowed to don those colors (no: not those colors: the other kind of colors... which, when you think about it are really kind of the same thing, but not exactly. At least the Scots were more manly about their turf-wars: Claymores beat tec-9's any day of the week).

Right: given that I'm a card-carrying Scotophile (which ain't too hard to figure out), there's something I've wanted to get my hands on for a long, long time that I think I have the confidence, emotional maturity  and physique to pull-off...

...I want a f**king kilt.

Now there's a fantastic and historic kiltmaker right on the Royal Mile that does amazing work; I've been by the shop dozens of times, their manniquins sporting incredible works of skirt-like art. Well: size me up and hem me a man-skirt!

Not so fast... LOOK AT THESE PRICES!!!! A full kilt set from these guys- jacket, tartan and minimal accessories- would set one back over 600 pounds (convert that to dollars, taking into account the fact that our currency is weaker than Abe Vigoda's cannoli dipped in lidocaine, and you can see a slight problem, here). I knew the damn things aren't cheap (especially ones of quality) but these f**kers charge over 100 pounds for the sporran.

...The sporran, for God's sake!

Eh: bottom line is that Shane ain't gonna be skirting this issue anytime soon. As it stands now I can barely afford the Sgian Dubh (and yes: I'd insist on getting that, too, 'cause if you wanna wear a kilt in the Continental United States and you aren't over the age of 70 you'd better be prepared to fight about it)

And I would fight about it, incidentally.

Buaidh no bàs, motherf**ker...

*(Not that there's anything wrong with that. It kinda keeps my ego in 'Czech'. Anyone?... No?... alright....)

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 1:13 AM MNT

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Mood:  a-ok

Lookit this...

NASA says it's just a rock. Oh, those poor, deluded fools...

Actually, that thing kinda looks like another odd creature dredged from the annals of cryptozoology.

Although, in the case of our friendly (hopefully?) Martian friend, I guess the term is 'exozoology'.

Sounds cool, anyway... 

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 2:06 AM MNT

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Mood:  irritated

Part of my thing is, when I write, I love to make esoteric references and... well: what I guess would be called 'in-jokes'.

Part of what pisses me off is that a) most people won't pick 'em up and b) anyone who does will probably consider it corny and contrived.

I'm not ragging on anyone's intelligence when I say that obscure references go whizzing by: that's why they're obscure. But what annoys me is that, for me, these're the best parts of the description/dialogue/action and they are, effectively, invisible.

For example: in 'Filial Affection' I wanna reveal that Chenine's little nom-de-guerre she uses to keep Kensu Onizuka and others from  catching her real name is Camille Steen (in TGS she picks 'Camille' out of the blue, but no last name is mentioned: 'Steen' is new).

I don't think many people would get the Steen reference, you see (scroll down for 'alternate names')...

Actually, her alterego's first name is also a reference, too.

Of course, a story can't also just be a bunch of trivia shuttled between the lines, but it's my adamant opinion that these kinds of things really enrich a story, if only a little bit (and only to a point...) Honestly, I've got enough other stuff going on in the books action-wise to prop up a little playfulness between the lines.

...For example: in the next chapter Chenine gets her back broken in at least three places, paralyzing her from the neck down. Pretty f**king dramatic, don't you think?*

*(This is technically true, but if you think I'm gonna finish the story with my lead female character going around a-la-Stephen-Hawking, you'd be dead wrong...)

Posted by shanekentknolltrey at 3:20 AM MNT

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