Saturday, September 29, 2007

Typical Saturday...

Remember that OLD computer game "Oregon Trail"? That was cool.
Anyway, on to more important matters: My Saturday routine...

• Refill bird feeders (hummingbirds are moving out, cardinals are rampant, woodpecker season is approaching).
• Make lots of coffee
• Make some breakfast
• Update blog
• Put on some music
• Peruse the internet
• Consider getting dressed
• Refill coffee
• Flip through some book I haven't read
• Loaf around
• Update my fantasy football team (the Crash Test Bunnies)
• Nothing's on tv
• More coffee
• It's now 11am

Jenn's Saturday routine:
• Get up and go to work

*(this may seem like a cruel act of fate, but i DID make her breakfast this morning, and she's only working a half day).

Friday, September 21, 2007

Live from Seattle...

As promised, here are some pictures from the Penny Arcade expo in Seattle. Our very own George Hancock took these shots, so thanks to him. I got to play that "Rock Band" video game, which is a cross between Guitar Hero and Karaoke. I perfomed a Stone Temple Pilots song. My score was 100%, but my bandmates absolutely tanked. My good buddy Rachel, from WizKids, is our other Rock Band performer, who sang Pat Benetar. Then I got to pose as Wil Wheaton (formerly of Star Trek: the next generation, currently unemployed). Fun for all. This is what I get paid to do.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Happy Birthday Keith...

I found this for you. It's my special way of saying 'happy b-day.'

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Home. Finally...

So I went on a 3-day excursion to Madison, Wisconsin. All was well until the flight home, when we boarded our plane at the airport in Atlanta. We're on the runway when a bad thunderstorm delays all flights to the west. The pilot decides to wait... So we get a new flight plan, which will take us down through Mississippi and back up to Memphis. But we don't have enough fuel. So we taxi back to the fuel station to get the extra gas we need to make the extended trip. Lightning hits part of the runway (nowhere near us) and flashes are happening all over as the storm worsens. They can't send the fuel truck out into the lightning storm, so we have to wait for the storm to pass... and we wait... I've now been on this plane, on the runway, for 2 hours (the flight to Memphis takes 50 minutes from ATL by the way). Finally the storm passes, and we get fuel. But now there's a warning light coming on in the cockpit, and we have to get a mechanic crew to check it out. There are none available. So we wait... The crew shows up to fix the problem. We're told that we can get off the plane if we want, but to stay close to the gate in case we're cleared to leave. 2 minutes (and I mean 2 minutes) after a handfull of people get off, the plane (with no announcement) seals the door and leaves the gate. Now we're back on the runway, and after about 3 hours on the plane, we take off!!! Without those people!! We're in the air for about 15 to 20 minutes when the right engine's oil pressure reaches an 'abnormal level.' We turn around immediately, and are forced to land. The people in first class (none of whom bought tickets, but are all upgraded due to points, skyteam memberships, frequent flyer miles, etc) are getting fussy and find the situation 'unacceptable.' There are about 20 of them. So they are given free alcohol, snacks, and who knows what else. The 110 passengers in coach were told only 2 things: Please don't use the forward restroom, as it is for first class passengers only, and we cannot provide any water or snacks or turn on the air conditioner at this time, 'it's just not possible.' Fuck that. People begin to talk of mutiny and rebellion. All this is happening while we're taxiing to the maintenence yard being followed alongside by 2 of those big airport firetrucks! We sit on the plane and wait. We are told that the repairs could take several hours and that "we aren't sure what options we have available." The crew sends its apologies. It's been 5 hours. First class is drunk and happy. The rest of us are devising a scheme. We are told to depart the aircraft. At the gate, they print meal vouchers for $7, and we're told "we don't have another plane, the next flight to Memphis is full, we're not sure if the mechanics have the part needed to fix the engine. Oddly enough, after 6 hours since we first boarded, they found us a plane and scheduled a new flight---in 20 minutes. Jonathan and I grab a stack of meal vouchers ($42 dollars worth) and while we rush to the other gate, begin handing them out to anyone who will take them. Delta didn't give its customers any time to actually use these vouchers, but we wanted to make sure they got redeemed. Lots of Northwest, American Airlines, AirCanada customers enjoyed free food courtesy of Delta last night.
We finally got on our plane, with the same flight crew, and listened to apologies all throughout. The entire experience has come to serve as an example of what NOT to do in a 'customer service' situation. I made it home around 9 last night, about 7 hours after I was supposed to.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Peter Cushing...

...would like to be added to your list of friends on MySpace.

Everybody cut and paste this and post it on everyone's MySpace accounts. He'd do it himself, but he's dead. Help a guy out.

Elder Gods erased my Buick...

I thought about what was beneath my pale flesh. It was not blood, tissue, and organs. I was filled with a struggling mass of slime, tentacles, straining hideous chartreuse cat eyes, and great salivating maws with thousands of tongues. I am not human, I am a monster. And the tradition I follow, the path I tread is a very old one. Still asleep, still a haven for the many, many "I's", continually oblivious to the nature of what I am, a machine, as well as I'm equally unaware the very real prison I inhabit.

Watch, my disciples.

Humans cannot progress while burdened with their humanity. They must lose themselves, shed their skin, and become inhuman in order to bear the inky blackish green gnosis; the dark revelation of mind over matter.

Put yourself in the same mental framework as if you were turning a problem over in your head, or trying to fathom where in the world you lost your keys. Not only does this take prolonged and intense concentration, but a willingness to perceive the world through various diverse perspectives. Then a physical act is necessary, giving the sign of the devil with your hand, the drawing of a strange symbol, writing an outline, short story, poem, or painting a picture of the desired alteration in "reality". Then let go of your desire. And the answer, or change, will simply come to you later. I believe that merely writing down one's thoughts, goals, and experiments in a magical journal is magic itself. Formulating what you want and what sorcery you've performed to get it, signals the obscure substance that is in "reality". And then it will manifest.

Another point worth mentioning is to not let the universe push you around, because when you disturb the natural order, the natural order may try to disturb you back. Simply don't let it. If the disturbance is a wholly negative one, become iron and resist its change. Although if the change could be beneficial, then absorb it with ease and fluidity. Remembering yourself, your surroundings, and that you are the rock and reality is the river.

Times of black violet passion - drives of white knuckle fire

This is about changing reality,
This is about changing reality,
This is about changing reality,
This is about changing reality,
This is about changing reality…

Self Annihilation

The destruction of oneself must come before the new self can grow. And it will grow - like a chartreuse fleshed corpse fiend or a worm of dark red phoenix blood. Birth and death and rebirth; there is a cycle which is followed.


In your head, create the person who you want to be and have that person whisper his intentions over the mental landscape. Those thoughts are slowly becoming more real. Like a muscle, the magician's will needs to work, rest, and then work harder than before.

Friday, September 07, 2007

Death: the high cost of living...

We just got back from Savannah, GA. Among some other things, we visited the historic town, also known as the "Jewel of the South." I took these at the Bonaventure cemetary, and even got a photo of Johnny Mercer's tomb. Yep, the songwriter. This city, to me, IS the south. At least the good parts of it. And their cemetaries are full of woodpeckers (some of my favorites).