Graeme: yeah, don't be nasty. my grandad died in a concentration camp......!
Graeme: he fell out a guard tower. broke his neck

.... I now return you to your regularly scheduled non updates.

"... being a Linux user is sort of like living in a house inhabited by a large family of carpenters and architects. Every morning when you wake up, the house is a little different. Maybe there is a new turret, or some walls have moved. Or perhaps someone has temporarily removed the floor under your bed."

"... being an OpenServer or UNIXWare user is like living in a house that hasn't been touched by a carpenter or inspected by an architect in years. Every morning when you wake up, the neighbor's house is a little better. You are justing thankful that the floor hasn't fallen out from beneath your bed, cause you know it'll be half a decade before its fixed."

"...being a Windows user is like living is a cheap vegas hotel. Every morning, you wake up with a new disease. The floor beneath your bed is likely to fall through at any time, but at least you can burn the hotel down and rebuild it or move to another room."

#31836 +(312)- [X]

fucking
best thing about ramen noodles
my girlfriend did NOT know what they were
so i was making some
rofl
and i put the flavouring packet thing on the sink
and she sees the packet
and what SHE sees
is a little condom shaped wrapper
saying "beef flavour"

http://bash.org/?31836

From the "Holy shit I love Sony" department:

Paper DVDs on the horizon
The paper discs can hold 25 gigabytes of information. A paper disc that can hold up to five times more data than current DVDs has been developed by Sony and another Japanese company.

The disc is 51% paper and could offer foolproof security, said officials.

"Since a paper disc can be cut by scissors easily, it is simple to preserve data security when disposing of the disc," said Hideaki Kawai of Toppan, which worked with Sony.

It is not yet clear when the technology will be commercially available.

And yes, my life is being eaten by school. Particularly my thesis. Leave me alone.

So, here's the news.

My car is back. Its drivable. Rear quarter pannel looks pretty crunched, but the paint is pretty much whole. It looks pretty good, in truth. Total cost of repair... $75 + labor. I feel pretty decent about that. I worked off part of it by painting the siding on my room and the kitchen Saturday. I'll spend part of next weekend doing body work, assuming we will get the quarter pannel.

The rest of next weekend will be visiting family and spending time with my mother. God damn it.

On an aside, have you ever just stared at your parents for a few minutes and wondered "Why In the Hell cant these people act like normal human beings for a quarter of an hour?" I've been doing that allot lately.

....What a night. And no, not in a good way. Not at all.

I went up to Erik's place for the evening, for dinner and what not. In the process of cooking, more butter is needed, and I go to the store to get some. Pulling out of the lot, making a left accross Buford Hwy, a red SUV plows into my left rear quarter pannel. There wasnt time to think, wasnt time to do more than try to accelerate out of her way, wasnt time to do anything. And then it was over, and I was turned sideways of where I had been in the intersection.

My rear left wheel is bent, my left suspention fork is bent, and my left quarter pannel is bent in onto the tire. How badly bent, and how much is fixable and or replacable, will be seen in the morning. What does not remain to be seen is that I was at fault, was ticketed, and now have to face the inevitable months of torment because of it.

Erik and his mother wanted me to stay at their place tonight, my father came and picked me up, taking me home. I feel as though I've disapointed all of them, tonight. But I wasn't sure I could make that choise to leave my home tonight, yet now I seem to have doomed myself to a shame I cannot find a way out of.

Today is a sort of weird day for me. All weekend, 99X played 90's music, and then topped it off with the concert that Pearl Jam played at the Fox ten years ago. Today on Buzz, they played nothing bu 90's music. All to remind us. It is April 5th, 2004. Ten years ago, today, it was a Tuesday. I can't claim to remember where I was, or who told me, but I remember Hearing. Kurt Cobain was dead.

Looking back on the whole thing, it didn't affect me then, that much. Now, it sits in my mind and I wonder about it. My own views of suicide, honor, drug use, mental illness, (etc.) have changed quite a bit since then. But a few things still remain the same: when there is death, grieve, but understand the reasons for the death, and accept them, as they are. Death is never without a purpose. It may not be one we can understand, or accept, or even cope with, but there is one.

Purpose, you ask, what purpose could there be in a death of a briliant man by his own hand. To borrow a phrase from Stephen King, what purpose is there in the Hemingway Solution*? I'm not one to speak for motives, but sometimes, it is the honorable thing to do. This is not saying that you should kill yourself, heavens no. Too many people suffer, too many victims are left behind, and no lessons are learned if it is undertaken lightly. There are other ways to end temporary mental anguish. But when you are dying, or are in pain so great that it forces you to cease all other functions, then death is an honorable option.

I understand what it is like to be tempted by this Solution. I have stood on the brink of it several times, each time coming back by remembering the shame and suffering I would inflict on those who are close to me. Nothing in my life is so terrible as to do that to those I love. But there will come a time, one day perhaps, when I am unable to care for myself, when I am no longer functional as an individual. When that time comes, I know what choise I will make. To live on in the shame of being dependant totally on those around me, to be a leach on their lives, these are things I cannot and will not tollerate.

Did he feel this way? Was the pain he felt, what ever the source, so much that he could not continue out of the shame of being such a burden to everyone? This is probably not how he thought of it, I am sure. So few people think of death and life as I do. But in the end, we must ask ourselves if this was the case. We can't ever know, but I feel, deep within my heart, that it was.

So I remember those musicians who influenced me, and who have died in my lifetime: Kurt Cobain, Jerry Garcia, Layne Staley, Frank Sinatra, and so many others.


(*For those of you who don't know, Hemingway killed himself on a log cabin in Ketcham, Idaho on Sunday 2 July 1961 by placing a double barelled shotgun in his mouth and pulling the trigger with his toe.)

I Am A: Chaotic Good GnomeThief Mage


Alignment:
Chaotic Good characters are independent types with a strong belief in the value of goodness. They have little use for governments and other forces of order, and will generally do their own things, without heed to such groups.


Race:
Gnomes are also short, like dwarves, but much skinnier. They have no beards, and are very inclined towards technology, although they have been known to dabble in magic, too. They tend to be fun-loving and fond of jokes and humor. Some gnomes live underground, and some live in cities and villages. They are very tolerant of other races, and are generally well-liked, though occasionally considered frivolous.


Primary Class:
Thieves are the most roguish of the classes. They are sneaky and nimble-fingered, and have skills with traps and locks. While not all use these skills for burglary, that is a common occupation of this class.


Secondary Class:
Mages harness the magical energies for their own use. Spells, spell books, and long hours in the library are their loves. While often not physically strong, their mental talents can make up for this.


Deity:
Tymora is the Chaotic Good goddess of luck and good fortune. She is also known as Lady Luck, and also Tyche's fair-tressed daughter. Followers of Tymora believe in the tenent that, 'Fortune Favors the Bold,' and will throw caution to the wind and trust to luck to work things out for the best. Tymora's symbol is an unmarked silver disk.


Find out What D&D Character Are You?, courtesy ofNeppyMan (e-mail)


Detailed Results:

Alignment: Lawful Good ----- XXXX (4) Neutral Good ---- XXX (3) Chaotic Good ---- XXXXXXXXX (9) Lawful Neutral -- (0) True Neutral ---- XXXXXX (6) Chaotic Neutral - XX (2) Lawful Evil ----- (-1) Neutral Evil ---- (0) Chaotic Evil ---- (-2)

Race: Human ---- XX (2) Half-Elf - XXXXX (5) Elf ------ XXXXX (5) Halfling - XXX (3) Dwarf ---- XXXXX (5) Half-Orc - (-4) Gnome ---- XXXXXXX (7)

Class: Fighter - (-1) Ranger -- XXXX (4) Paladin - (-3) Cleric -- (0) Mage ---- XXXXX (5) Druid --- (0) Thief --- XXXXXX (6) Bard ---- XX (2) Monk ---- (-5)

A token left with judgement a memento left ajar
A secret never wanted death defying little charms
How to defend pretend selective piss-away so long neglected
pretty-frozen underground from above the odor leering

Pass the meat from which I stink of
All those tethered whether-wise

Hypocrites, backstabers... how could you forget everything, and say the things you say? Today I sat in a room full of people and heard them speak absurdities and foolishness about someone else, behind their back, which they would never say to their face. I listened, and I was the only one who defended with unturning loyalty, while I spoke through clenched teeth and with fists so tight my nails bit into my palms. I don't know your true reasons, nor do I care. I hear what I hear, and I will remember. As I always do. I never forget.

A blood stain all the wiser desperation kicks the stool
A little bruise to lose demure a staple cut and dry
In the sink dissection decimation is the rule
In determining direction acting agent act the fool

Pass the meat from which I stink of
Putrid helping kept inside

Yet I am a shitless coward, for though I defended, I could not speak the words I truely wanted to, to call them out on their hypocracy, their mindless rebelion. In my mind, I saw a silver flash, and a hot red spray, and how I felt the Beast stir within its chains and its mouth grow wet for the taist of my anger. But I am a coward. No anger would rise within me but the wordless, burning misery which I knew meant I would suffer silently, and simply harden my heart against these people. And yet I will smile towards them, when I see them next, and be civil, while within me It pulls at its chains with what little strength it has, and while the coward in me hides from this monster, saving you all from it.

A prick upon the finger looking back like hacking through
To develop in the mixture of a portion of a view
The distant elevation of a faded wicked high
Divination ask a question of a spirit for a thing you used to hide

I am a coward. A shitless, heartless, coward. Soon comes the time when I have to take back up the sword, and be strong again. But now I snivel in the darkness. And god I hate myself for it. I've become such a coward in the last few years. I'm too afraid to stand up for myself, for what is right. I hide from everything now. Even in games I dont take risks. My lack of skill comes up to haunt me every time, and inevitably I cause someone else harm. But I have to stand up. I have to be brave again. No More Fear.

Tincture Warning Second cousin to the new invention
Addictive so charming second only to a forced unfusion
Tincture of lead be said with no remorse full of confusion
Wish to enjoy this weightlessness lay me out full worm garden



Lyrics::KMFDM - Full Worm Garden