And when people ask me how long I think the war will last, THIS is my answer.

Any questions?

Didn't think so.

And just for "statistical proof"

Thank you, and have a nice day.

Hi! The answering machine is broken. This is the refrigerator. Please speak very slowly, and I'll stick your message to myself with one of these magnets.

.... something has got me in this sort of mood today...

The Body of B. Franklin, Printer
Like the Cover of an old Book
Its Contents turn out
And Stript of its Lettering & Guilding
Lies here. Food for Worms
For, it will as he believed
appear once more
In a new and more elegant Edition
corrected and improved
By the Author

Benjamin Franklin's Gravestone

More proof for 42 being an important universal number....

Sol is expected to make about 42 revolutions around the galactic center during its life span
We are currently running on orbit 20...

HAPPY WAR DAY!

[23:31] coryj007: Decapitation!
[23:31] StrixusOokami: more decapitation!
[23:32] coryj007: Fuck analasis, get back to the guy welded to the tank!
[23:32] StrixusOokami: LOL
[23:32] coryj007: Decapitation!

conversational haiku

I close my eyes,
"What do you want from me,
Friendship?" I sigh.

More or less, less or
More - does it matter in the end?
maybe it doesnt

"You can't keep being
so afraid of me," I whisper,
"But you should be."

Yes, nothing from me for days... but I have been prepairing this essay talking about what all has been going on in my life recently.

Loyalty, Honnor, and Shame

Most people, who know me, at least from reputation, know me as a person who will stoop to nearly any measure to get done what needs to be done, no matter the cost or consequence. That also means I have the reputation of being underhanded, sneaky, deceitful, and treacherous, not to mention just a bit of a hot head. But what few people know about me is that I have a very strong sense of personal honor, something that often over rides common sense, priority, and active reason. It is this sense of person honor which has gotten me into most of the trouble in my life, and lead to the worst pains I have ever known. Thus, I attempt to suppress it, and focus on getting done what should and must be done.
Recent events, however, are making me take a long, hard look at this personal sense of honor, and what it really means to me. Because with this sense of honor is also my sense of loyalty. And right now, my loyalty is being tested, to an extreme, and I am in deep conflict as to how to resolve things. I am deeply loyal to only a few things – my lover, my friends, my self, and the student organization I helped to found. Usually, that is the order I would place my loyalties in, in terms of priority. And usually, this order of priority has helped me resolve conflicts between two or more of these loyalties fairly smoothly.
But now, I am faced with a problem I have never faced before. I find myself questioning my loyalty to that student organization, not because of the organization its self, but because of the treatment I have recently received from certain members of the organization. I have held a position of responsibility there for all but six months of my four years there, yet now, with little reason and even less warning, I have been dismissed from that position. And this dismissal was done with what I believe were more than professional motives behind it, though I have no proof of this.
First impulse was to give a general “Fuck you,” in the direction of the entire organization, and walk out, leaving them to fend for themselves and deal with the consequences of their actions. I have taken allot of stress, allot of pain, and sacrificed allot of the last four years of my life for that group of people, all for a lousy $200 a month and little other compensation. I’ve seen the organization through everything from a near legal suit to poor staff turn out, all the time attempting to be the pillar of solidarity for the organization. And the organization has survived, no matter who has tried to bring it down.
But what thanks have I gotten beyond the knowledge that this organization has survived? I’ve made many good friends, hand many good times, and hell, even had allot of fun. But has all of that been enough to balance out all the pain and heartbreak I’ve been through for the organization before? Before I was dismissed, I thought that it was. But now, that question is haunting my mind again.
What the question comes down to is simply this – was my dismissal my fault, or the fault of the person who dismissed me. My distinctly western mentality immediately places blame on others, while my eastern sensibilities tell me that regardless of who’s fault it was, the failure is mine, and must be atoned for. And as I usually find my eastern logic more equitable when dealing with people, as well as more soothing to my own soul, I must find a way to atone for my failure – that is, I must compensate for my dismissal in such a way as that I can regain the honor lost by it.
Of course, the answer is obvious. I can only atone for my own failure to the organization by continuing to stay and work for the organization, redoubling my efforts to improve and continue its existence. My continued presence may stick as a bone in some throats, but all the better, for it will show those who see me as a failure that I am above such things, and that my work is done from loyalty, not for pay or profit. In that way, I can regain the honor lost, and show that I remain loyal, no matter what is done to me.
Because that is the definition of loyalty, I think, working for that which you are loyal to, no matter if there is reward or not, and even if that reward is only pain and heartbreak. Loyalty is remaining steadfast for something you believe in, even if it means your own shame, failure, or suffering. And that is the lesson this has taught me. No matter how much hurt and pain you dedication is repaid with, if you truly believe in something, or someone, you will stay loyal to what you believe in.
Yet another lesson the universe has taught me, and one I will not soon forget.

"They call me Snakefoot...."

The people of Albion, yes, they came among us when our leaders reopened the gate from Avalon to the mainland, building keeps and forts and villages, cutting roads across the earth where none but we had tread before. The drakoran, we fear them, for we see in them what the Iconnu could become, and in our fear we opened our land to invaders who may yet be worse than them. At first, we knew nothing of their wars with the other realms of the world, and then, we learned what there was to fear other than Morgana and her undead legions.
I am Cilida Sabazios, but humans, with their limited voices, found my name hard to pronounce, thus reduced me to my given name, Cilida, for many of my first days among them. When I entered training in the Guild of Shadows, my first master dubed me "Snakefoot" as a derogatory refference to my short size, claiming that I was no taller than the non existant serpent limb. Little did he know the name would come to strike terror into the hearts of the enemies of the realm. As an Iconnu, I have a natural mastery of poisons, able to create them with little difficulty from even the most common ingredients. My small size made ideal for ambush missions against the drakoran, and I quickly learned that poisons which the humans had formulated worked almost as well as our own traditional venoms extracted from native animals.
I saw my first Troll two months into my training with the Guild of Shadows. I had progressed fast, far faster than they had expected me to, and gained the rank of Blue Hand while others I had trained with still struggled with their aprenticeships. The Guild which hired me, The Ancient, called me out to battle, and I saw for the first time the others who threathened our realms. Hibernians, Midgars... I quickly learned that Trolls are nowhere near as tough as they look, and that an axe goes through their stone hide just as easily as it does through the scales of a drakoran.

And I walk, throwing doors open wide before me
Each step a thunder on stone
time worn, empty, fire laced hallways
Through these portals, stride through
To face what waits beyond
Beast and Demon, Freak and Fey,
Within the darkening pinicals
Of Hell

I am Monster, born of Nightmare
Walking shadow, dream of fire
Tarterus phosphers, sulfurous biles
Fangs of demon bone
Devil of night

Oh, God, oh God, I dream
in multi hued sands of spiral time
and who are we to wonder
walkers of nightmare dreamers
and the Firewalkers swarm around us
wings grown stiff with time

Impotent creative energy is the bane of my conscious mind. Whole words die stillborn in my mind as I sit, pondering, whole peoples and cultures and even pantheons rise and fall with the whim of my thoughts, to be forgotten only minutes or hours later as I let them go. For, I have nothing to do with them, no place for them. I cannot create in ways that would bring them into reality.
Words are not enough. Images are not enough. Music is not enough.
And no way can I ever bring my creations to frutation.

And somehow... I am alone.