Monthly Archives: July 2004

Spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam and spam.

Some asshat is spamming the comment threads. Fortunately most of them are going to very old posts that no one is reading. Unfortunately deleting comments is a pain in the ass in MT, and I so don’t have time to get rid of them. So if you see something unbelievably obscene in a comment thread, that’s why.
Anyone know a good solution for this? The spammer seems to be hopping IP’s, so I can’t just block him outright.

Really brief Kerry speech post

I was going to comment on Kerry’s acceptance speech, but I was in the back of the room and could only hear about 10% of it. Well, the delivery looked good, anyway. Reading the transcript, I liked the way he tried to reclaim flag-waving and patriotism from the Republicans. (But will it work?)
I would have more detailed commentary, but I’m ridiculously busy today and this weekend. Maybe Monday, after I run the San Francisco Marathon with the well-known mystery writer James Hime on Sunday. Bay Area readers (if any) are welcome to come out and cheer us on.

His first words were “Go fuck yourself.”

I ran across this article about some guy in Kentucky who burned 30 pints of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream to protest Ben Cohen’s protest of George Bush. It’s not really all that interesting, but I wanted to comment on this line: “Charlene Harris brought her two sons,-Cheney, 2, and Jay, 4, to the protest after learning about it from a Scott County Republican Party e-mail.”
She named her kid Cheney? Now that’s a serious Republican.

Then he picked up Jon Fossoway’s shield, gaining +2 defense.

Add George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire to the list of settings that demand a Dynasty Warriors-style video game adaptation from Koei.

Next came four of lesser birth who had distinguished themselves in the fighting… the freerider Lothor Brune, who’d cut his way through half a hundred Fossoway men-at-arms to capture Ser Jon of the green apple and kill Ser Bryan and Ser Edwyd of the red, thereby winning himself the name Lothor Apple-Eater…
A Clash of Kings, p.908

I think we all know how that went down:

Lothor Brune‘s unit is attacking Jon Fossoway!
Bodyguard: Are we not too far out?
Lothor Brune has defeated 50 enemies!
Loras Tyrell: I bow to your skills!
Lothor Brune has routed Bryan Fossoway‘s unit!
Lothor Brune: I’ve defeated an officer!
Tyrion Lannister has sealed an enemy stronghold!
Lothor Brune has routed Edwyd Fossoway‘s unit!
Lothor Brune: I’ve defeated an officer!
Baratheon forces’ overall morale is dropping.
Lothor Brune has routed Jon Fossoway‘s unit!
Lothor Brune: I’ve defeated an officer!
Jon Fossoway‘s unit has been annihilated.
Tywin Lannister: We must not fall behind!

I am not at the Democratic National Convention.

But I will be at East Bay for Kerry’s convention party on Thursday! It’s a very exclusive event, we’ll be turning people away at the door, but I was able to get on the guest list due to my RSVP’ing on time vast political clout.
There’s a lot of blog coverage of the DNC, and I’ve only had a chance to sample a small part of it, but the convention blog at The American Prospect is entertaining. Also, the inimitable Fafnir and Giblets are supplying their own no-holds-barred commentary!

  • Jimmy Carter! History’s greatest monster! With his Habitat for Humanity Jimmy Carter gives homes to the homeless – making the homeless cease to exist. That sounds like Homeless Genocide to Giblets! An do not Giblets started on the incompetence and horror of the Camp David Accords!

More old-school sports

Via Fark, an interesting article describing the ancient Olympic games.

A few events have persisted over the millennia, like the discus, javelin, running, wrestling and boxing – although the ancient versions often had different rules. Other events vanished with the empire, like the full-armoured sprint and the pankration – which resembled a bar fight that allowed finger-breaking and genital punching.

They ought to bring back the pankration. Just imagine the TV ratings…

Arrr!

I’m sorry. This is a serious issue, and it would be inappropriate for me to comment on it by saying Drink up, me hearties. Yo ho.
And yet, when they title the article “Pirates Increase Deadly Attacks on High Seas” I just can’t help myself, especially with Talk Like A Pirate Day less than two months off.
(Zombies and pirates in one week! I just need to blog about ninjas to complete the trifecta.)

Kings

Last week’s quote is from Gloucester’s opening soliloquy in Richard III:

Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity

I was reminded of this play (one of my favorites) while reading George R. R. Martin’s fantasy series based on the Wars of the Roses; it’s pretty clear which character in these books is based on Richard III, but some of the other parallels are not so obvious.
The new quote is difficulty: Moderate; 2 points.

Tonight your dream will be directed by George Romero.

The dream I had last night:
I step out of the puddlejumper at a tiny airport somewhere in central California. There’s a small car rental operation nearby, and I hitch a ride into town from there with one of my fellow passengers. He drops me off at a large house, where a middle-age woman answers the door. She is the only one who lives here, but she rents out the rooms to visitors such as myself. I’ve already made the arrangements, so she shows me to my room upstairs. It’s late in the afternoon.
As the sun goes down I settle in, unpack. But once night has fallen I hear a crash downstairs. I run down to find that the door has been smashed in, and a horde of shuffling zombies is pouring in. I know it’s no good to run back upstairs, so I try to push past them and escape, but they overwhelm me…
…and I’m standing in the late afternoon sun on the front lawn of the house. After a moment’s disorientation I realize that I have been reloaded from a save file, as if in a video game, back to the moment of my arrival. My first impulse is to warn the proprietress about the impending zombie attack, but I know I will not be taken seriously. Instead I enter the house and begin to search for weapons.
I end up with an axe found in the garage (not a Buffy-style battle-axe, but an axe for cutting wood), and a chef’s knife from the kitchen. After a few practice swings I decide the axe works best in my left hand with the knife wielded in the right. This settled, I go to the front door to wait.
The door bursts open and I launch myself at the lead zombie, aiming an axe-blow for the head. But the zombie sways in an unexpected direction, and I bury the blade in its right shoulder. I pull on the handle to dislodge it, but it only draws the zombie onto me, pinning my right arm. The rest of the horde pushes through the door, surrounding me…
Reload.
I need fire. I recall Nick’s photos of a Super Soaker converted into a flamethrower, a bright tongue of flame sweeping out into the night. But no waterguns are to be found in the house. I settle for a canister of kerosene (left hand) and a butane lighter (right). This time when the zombie comes through the door I fling some oil onto the shambling corpse, thrust my right arm forward, and flick the lighter. It catches and the zombie goes up like a torch. It occurs to me in this instant that I am likely to burn the house down with such tactics, but I am not too troubled by this thought.
The other undead mostly shy away from the flames, but a few push through, and I give them the same treatment. It’s working…
…the kerosene runs out. I’m backed into a corner now, with three or four zombies approaching. In desperation I reach out for a head, hoping to snap its neck…
This time, instead of reloading, I wake up.
Interpretations:
A. Null interpretation – it’s meaningless.
B. At night my subconscious sets up a GameCube in the inner recesses of my brain and plays Resident Evil. Badly.
C. The zombies represent my various responsibilities, obligations, and tasks that must be completed in the near future, and the dream is a reflection of my fears that these things will overwhelm me, and I won’t be able to develop a strategy to deal with them.
D. The dream is a manifestation of my fear that if I allow myself to become too isolated and solitary, my humanity will fade away and I will become zombie-like.
E. Since central California is the solidly conservative area of the state, the dream is about my fear of Republicans.
Or supply your own. I will add that the previous night I dreamed I was a vampire. Might be too much Buffy (if that’s possible).