What the hell...

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Moderate
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very High
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very High
Level 7 (Violent)	Very High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	High

Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test

Spandau Roulette

We've been slowly digging through boxes that had been packed away over at our house, a process akin to Christmas. It's a beautiful thing.

As is my annual date with my wife. I admit to needing to get out more often, but we have kids and a total lack of friends/family around here, limiting our prospects. And on the same day that "Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy" came out! What luck!

Unfortunately, we didn't go. But we did spend tons of time holding each others hands.

Hands that could be on dolphins, or maybe I'm thinking of brains and mice.

I can't for the life of me figure out what the problem is with giving human qualities to mice is. Oh, sure they're kept in cages and asked to perform meaningless tasks and sometimes suffer apparently random deaths, but aren't we all?
They might stage breakouts, charge for cheese, or hold protests, but so what?

Oh well.

Most of my gaming books don't have much dust on them, which is good. I've managed to narrow down the core books to the ones actually necessary to run a game, and might be able to interest the kids in "Star Wars". I've got the old WEG version, and I'm not afraid to use it. But it could be years/weeks/days before I try anything like that.

My wife spent some time yesterday recalling the glory of her Ars Magica group. I'm not sure if she was trying to hint that I should run a game for her, but in points it certainly sounded like it. I've heard similar hints from girls across the years. Usually they want me to run "Vampire," damn them.

The Turning of Johnson

I was considering the value of my level of education, particularly in relation to job prospects.

General Associates = Assistant Manager at Sonics.

I don't think I'm stopping there.

Ski Colorado!

A friend once referred to the Palladium Roleplaying Game as "one of the more obscure, esoteric... gah!" I believe he was questioning my having it out in favor of D&D or Shadowrun or other systems.

The answer was that it didn't fit into my boxes. And I don't feel tempted to play the original system as I do, say Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Let me pause and thank Eric Wujcik(sp?) for his efforts in producing some of my favorite games.

At any rate, my oldest, having taken an interest in RPing, found the book and started reading it. And he likes it.

And I'm the only person he can play with, apparently. >sigh<

Tonight he asked if we could play. It was just before bed, so it was easy to deflect him with the question "Do you have a character?"

When I first discovered D&D (back when it was AD&D, and we didn't know it was only 1st ed) I loved making characters. It was the one thing I did constantly, driving my dad nuts, no doubt. I'd sit there practically burrowing into the book, an imaginary sliderule working feverishly to determine HP potential vs dmg potential, long range magic use, and the survivability quotient (and I made that crap up... it was glorious). I was at the height of being a twinkie... a munchkin... a powergamer. I've never quite lost the taste for crunching those numbers. And Ultrason says he loves math.

With a little guidance, and love, he could be the next Eric.

Take that, Hasbro!

Long ago, when ultrason was 7 or so, I introduced him to the card game "Magic: the Gathering". We played a few games, and was pretty enthusiastic for a while, but couldn't play with anyone... his interest tanked.

Lately he's been asking about RPGs. "Are there any in the house," he asked. Thinking all was in storage, I said "no."

But there was. I'd forgotten that the Palladium book was laying about. It's been his intro to Roleplaying.

Not that I haven't encouraged him, but I've kept it pretty subdued. I won't GM him, I might play with him, and I'm certainly willing to advise him. I was going to simply deny him, but I don't think that strategy would work well.

Yesterday I gave him an old DMG I had lying around that was actually a gift to him for his 2nd birthday. Shut up.

I've told him that he needs to find others to play with, people his own age. I am, however, tempted to break out the "Top Secret/S.I." game and let him James Bond it. But I figured it would be easy for him if the name "Harry Potter" was on the game, so I make some inquiries.

Nada. They tried, and failed. The card game did poorly, too.

The next step would be to adapt, but it doesn't have the same draw, and with no one to demonstrate, it might be really hard for him to get into it.

I want to support his interests, without pushing my interests on him... ideas?

Grab your crotch

and say it with me:

"If you can do the Bart, you're bad like Michael Jackson."

Heehee! Hoo!

In other news, I only have to transfer one credit in order to graduate. This semester, I hope.

Topless vampires!

I could do another entry about Satan, but I'll skip over the inanity for just a moment to
talk about something else, something of more importance.

Albert Einstein said, "I'm not exceptionally intelligent... just stubborn." His persistance
brought us much of the world as we see it today.

Once a month a writer's group, to which my wife belongs, meets. They tell each other of
their efforts, eat snacks, give a class on writing, and make an effort to improve between
these meetings. They have different goals, each person. Some want fame. Some, money,
and some to express themselves.

Amongst them, and I imagine amongst other writers, there is some despair over not improving,
or not writing enough, or that the snacks are going straight to their hips.

All art is a process of refinement. Within that block of marble may be an elephant, but you must chip
away at all angles, seeking even the last grain that is not elephant, before a sculpture sits before you.

When I put pencil to paper in an effort to draw a face, I start with an oval. I erase lines, add curves,
touch up, add shading, scrap the thing and start over again... only two weeks later to recognize that the
face I started with was far more human than the technically perfect effort I now behold, causing me to
scream in anguish and play 2 hours of "Doom".

When a person writes, it is not different. There is the ideas, the rough draft, the 2nd draft, etc. And
when that is done, the work is edited to perceived perfection, only to be handed to a publisher that says
"we can't use this." You then rework it, push it, listen to the ideas of the editors that will stoop to
talk to you, and eventually you have a piece published.

You must not give up. If it lives within you, you CAN NOT give up.

Perseverance can take a lack of talent far... ask Albert Einstein.

Superson

I've decided to go with:
Son oldest = Ultrason
Son Middle = Superson
Son Youngest = Megason (until I think of something better).

I've got a quote from superson:
"I'm a naked pirate! I attack Spanish ships really HARD!"

I'm just waiting for the teachers' phone calls next year.

Also, I've a question for those interested in answering:

I need to help support the long-distance relationship between Satan and Ultrason.
ideas?

Janet Jackson, circa 1985

Somebody, whom a lawyer advises I not name, recently sent me this

When my parents were cub leaders my brothers were
always going camping and the boy scout troops aroungd
here go also. You told me in the past that that church
did not beleave in camping. I want [Ultrason] to go to a
normal Boy Scout Troop.

Now she's accusing me of her delusions regarding the LDS church. In the past I've said a few things that might not be considered favorable regarding that body, but I don't pull ideas like "did not believe in camping" out of my butt. Even if I did, 5 seconds of thinking puts this one in the clear...

How long would a group that didn't believe in camping last while crossing the U.S. in the early to mid 1800's? Not very.

But that's not all the wondernut sent me, for I responded and asked why she is so against the LDS church.

I first of all do not like calling them a church they
are a corporation a cult.

They have false teaching. They go around using Jesus'
name to get money out of poor ignorant people to build
big fancy churches. They are blinding people there own
damnation.

Deuteronomy 12:32
See that you do all I command you; do not add to
it or take away from it.

They added the book of Mormon meaning they can NOT
call themselves Christians.

Another reason that I do not like the LDS that they
have influenced my son. I want my son to have nothing
to do with that! Hencen one of the big reasons you are
not moving him to UT. Then I have less time to teach
him the truth. He is a smart kid and I am confident
that he will see the right way.

Why are you so for them when you do not even attend
the church?

I'll start simple: the U.S. government recognizes them as a religion, and they have "Jesus Christ" in their name. How hard is that? I've been attending an LDS church for about 5 years on a regular basis, and I've seen none of the fleecing she suggests.

Somewhat more complicated is the idea of the Book of Mormon being added, but I'll give it a shot: The Book of Mormon was written and completed before all was over for the New Testament (according to the religion - I think). It wasn't added, but no one knew about it.

But that's stuff I should send to her, and she knows I'll win that argument. The main thing, I think, is the idea of a religion being a corporation. Words like "non-profit" come to mind. The head honchos don't get paid (The LDS church being firmly against "priestcraft" - paying preachers).

Oh, and that this is the religion she said she'd support while in court. For some reason I believe she committed perjury, although I'm not sure. That's still when you lie under oath, right?

Oh, and get your fill of this, as I'll be seriously rewording/moving my site (I haven't decided which yet) in the very near future. I can't stand the idea of her using this against me in court when we next meet.

What you ask for

My oldest often complains of bland food and boredom. I could've spiced things up a bit in another way, like rose-shaped tomatoes or something, but I didn't.

I gave him a tube of wasabi.

He cried for about 20 minutes before saying, "I'm okay," and gulping down a few french fries.

Turn, turn, turn

To everything there is a season...

And Congress gets to dictate when!

I was perusing the CNN articles when I discovered this.

You don't have to read it, since it's short and I'm going to talk about it. In summary, Congress is considering extending daylight savings time by about 2 months. While the more logical states will blow it off, since they don't do daylight savings, most states will see the extention... but why?

"Extending daylight-saving time makes sense, especially with skyrocketing energy costs," said Rep. Fred Upton, R-Michigan, who along with Rep. Ed Markey, D-Massachusetts, co-sponsored the measure.

"The more daylight we have, the less electricity we use," said Markey.

Excuse me? When was Congress given the power to dictate the hours of the sun? Or do we need an act of Congress to save energy?

Anyone got an explanation? A real one?

Cuz... WTF?

In the colloseum

Storytime at the local library. It's a time when children and, mainly, mothers gather to hear a themed story, do a craft, and possibly catch some performance art. And then there's me.

I come for the above reasons, sure, but I'm also just about ready to jump up and run the show. The woman is good, but I just see the stage and want to get up there.

Today, the theme was physical affection. The books were "Kiss Kiss" and "Everybody likes to Cuddle" - I don't know the authors.

"Kiss Kiss" is the story of a young hippo that leaves without kissing his mother goodbye and hears all of the other animals of the wild smooching until he finally opens the door and sees his friend, trapped in the body of his dead fiance.

Or something.

I liked "Everybody Likes to Cuddle." It describes the various animals (mammals, mainly) that cuddle. "Bears give great big cuddles!" "Dolphins can't cuddle, because nobody loves them!" and various others.

And then we get to porcupines.

"Porcupines have to cuddle verrry carefully, because... why? What do porcupines have?"

And from the back of the room, perhaps from about where I was sitting, a fairly masculine voice said:

"Herpes!"

I'm going to hell.

Thy name is man...

Crystal Martin is fat. Short and fat. With large eyes that hide beneath heavy brown bangs. If she wore glasses, she would stand out more... but she is simply plain. She has been my friend now, along with others, for three years.

That's not quite true.

She's always hovered at the edge of my group: the people that call me friend and sit with me at lunch, hang out with me after school. She's always there, following us. I've talked with her alot, but she just doesn't involve herself with anyone else.

Just like I'm following Melody. I've had the hots for her since we were in 6th grade. She's a full-on senior now, and her wide glasses give her a look of studious innocence. Years ago I sent those "secret admirer" notes that she thought were for someone else, and I was too embarrassed to correct her as they laughed. I've almost gotten the courage up to try something again.

Senior year... my last chance.

I'll do it at homecoming.
***************************

Homecoming came and went, and she wasn't there. The Senior Dance, maybe. I'm in the hall talking to Crystal, and she's running toward me... Melody. She bounces and my head swims.

"Is it true? Are you joining the Army?"

Dear God... she knows. It's supposed to be a secret, I just disappear. "No," I answer, shaking my head and near close to tears.

She deflates. "Oh." I watch her walk away, and months later I'll think *unless I take you with me,* but it's not now.
****************************

The Senior Dance. We're both on the committee... she has to be there. It's one of maybe two social things I've ever done, both because I was chasing her around. Stupid. Crystal agrees with me, as we sit together on the bleechers, watching the world dance without us. We're wallflowers... maybe vines. Clinging desperately to the wall, hoping that nothing will pull us from it's shade and safety.

Melody's here. She's in a dress, unlike every time I've ever seen her. She's beautiful. After all is said and done, we both catch a moment alone outside, and she rejects me. She's really nice about it, but my heart has been compressed into a diamond by the single word 'no'. Everything else is silence.
****************************

I'm at my locker when the students part, and there's Crystal. She's made herself up a bit, and I wonder why, when she pulls a small bear from her bag. It's green and white, with words attached that I don't bother reading. Crystal's family has very little money... this bear might've cost her 2 weeks lunches, and all I can see is that I've been crushed by love denied. She asks me to go with her for lunch. Just out to the grass... she's made a picnic.

For my birthday. My parents don't remember. I don't really care.

"No."

My life, as directed by the Wachowski brothers

"Marriage Time" similar to "Bullet Time" is described in PVP as that period after you get married in which you don't have enough money to get the latest gadgets/music/games. Usually brought on by children.

While not completely true, I have to admit that I'm intensely jealous of those that have the gadgets.

Sierra Madre

Wal-mart is a wonderful microcosm. Like the dream of living at the mall that many had in the mid-80's, one can
easily picture the adolescents of today thinking likewise.

And they make a pretty strong effort, at least here, of making that dream reality.

But it's to the younger kids that I'll point. The ones, about ten years of age,
that parents leave to the video and music displays while they do serious shopping.

I don't do this to my oldest, who's just cruised past 10 and easily fills the "pre-teen"
category, and here's why:

I was walking past the electronics display after 9:00 pm on a Friday. It was bleak outside,
and the freaks seem to be ever present. Some kids are firing capguns and "riding" through the
store, from clothing to sporting goods. Later I'll see them in the grocery aisles.

Two kids, about 10 in age, stop me. They're clearly trying to do something startling, but I don't
remember what. It was unimpressive.

"You want to scare your parents," I ask.
"Yeah!"

"Okay, this is simple," I proceeded to describe the ending of "Attack of the Pod People."

****************

I remembered the above after passing a kid in the parking lot who was yelling at his mother.
Screaming. I walked up to him and said, "kid, you're going about it all wrong."

I suggested that, when he gets onto a carpeted surface, he slide his fist into his shirt and
try to punch through it, using the other hand to provide stability and to help stress the fabric.
"Fall on the floor, screaming like something is going to pop out of your chest. If you're feeling
adventurous, wear a thin shirt and grab one of those tiny tomatoes. Palm it until no one remembers
you've got it and squeeze the thing while you do it."

His mom was grinning on the other side of the car as I passed.

Don't thank me... I'm just doing my job.

Whatever that is.