Saturday, 19 May 2007

Casual casualty

Ladies and gentlemen, good evening.

I am sad to announce that at 2.15 this Saturday morning, the truth has been shot dead during a violent riot. The circumstances that have lead up to this horrific deed are yet unknown, but police have allegedly arrested some 6 billion suspects. Their motives remain a mystery.

The truth, while often an untrustworthy ally, was admired by all as never being wrong. His life, though long, was full of obstacles and he was despised as often as loved. In the last few centuries, truth increasingly complained that people did not truly know him, but arrogantly misclaimed his acquaintance.

His friends and family mourn for him, and describe him as honest, friendly and sometimes a bit tough. He will be missed.

Send your condolences to his new home, the forever elusive DED.

Tuesday, 15 May 2007

Snatch

Wednesday, 9 May 2007

Another brick in the wall...

Tuesday, 8 May 2007

Undo-it-yourself anarchy

Anarchy is underrated.

More truly, anarchy is widely misunderstood. In popular belief, anarchy is a state of chaos; in actual political theory, anarchy is a belief in self-governing. A belief in which not leaders, but the people themselves wield the power. Everyone is equal to an anarchist.

Of course, that in itself reminds one of communism. And in a way it is very similar to communism, although communism focuses more on property that belongs to everyone. Anarchy, in general, tends to focus more on a system of government - and by that, it means no government apart from the people themselves.

Now, from this view stems the idea that anarchy is chaos. After all, if there are no leaders, how can the world remain calm and peaceful? Yet that is what anarchists believe. Without leadership, everyone is equal and nobody is allowed any acts of violence or crime against someone else - even if merely by a majority of the people. A democracy in its truest sense.

Yet communism failed. It failed, simply because they did not follow their own theory: "all animals are equal, but some are more equal than others," to quote George Orwell. Will anarchy, if ever formed in its original meaning, thrive where communism faltered?

My guess is, sadly, no. Because although people are equal in my view, they are also different. Not different as in more important or good or any other moral qualification; different in their opinions, skills, ideas, social interaction. The few will convince the many of their point of view in affairs, bringing about the end of true anarchy. Because in the end, people want to follow leaders. Leaders think for them, so they can spend their time doing other things.

And thus, mankind will forever keep hindering its own progress.

Thursday, 3 May 2007

Happy birthday!

This blog just turned 1. Yep, that's right; it's been a year since I first started blogging on here. Isn't that amazing?


Cake for everyone!

...well, if you're willing to come get it. :)

Friday, 27 April 2007

About Myspacitopians

Horrible, hideous creatures inhabiting the small end of the galaxy Internets, in what is known as "MySpace." Their only allegiance is to the Grand Imperial (sic) "Tom," and they defend his name well. They mostly battle by taking pictures of themselves in mirrors (to blind their enemies at the crappiness), or by posting high pitched screechy music. They are obviously hated, universe over.

Don't believe me? Read this.

Saturday, 21 April 2007

The Swamp

Thursday, 19 April 2007

The Dragon In My Bed

Her jewelled eyes have grown dim, sightless,
Shadowed over by her wearying loss of hope.
Broad wings that were meant to soar, are heavy,
Unable to break free of gravity’s bond and chains.
She is caught, earthbound, and helpless now,
Within a deadly trap of her own soul’s making.


The shimmer of her armour, bright scaled defence,
Is grown ashen, and weakened from her sorrowful heart.
Her joyous song and call have become stilled, quiet,
Only whispered, broken cries of loneliness are her voice.
No trumpets clarion does she wish to sing out in this now,
Trumpets do not capture what feeling her heart knows.


The brightest tears of the mourning she-dragon,
Fall slowly, one by one, to shatter aloud;
Broken on the rocky floor of her grief, endless
Fragments reflecting what she has ne’er known.
Plink and crash, crystal shards scattered wide.


The long, graceful tail drags wearily, and low,
No longer steering her, in her misplaced art of flight.
She is curled in her cave, where gold, jewels are naught;
The greatest riches, love, are denied her always.
The warm sands she gathered for her dragonlings.
Lie flat, ever cold and empty, smooth, and inert.


Despite her deepest, most sweetly held dreams,
Defying her endless quest through the world.
Still no mate to fly her, and give a promise.
She’ll not know of twining neck, and wrapping wings.
She hears no other slumbering dragon’s breath.
Her lonely nest is forever more silent and empty.


The brightest tears of the mourning she-dragon,
Fall slowly, one by one, to shatter aloud;
Broken on the rocky floor of her grief, endless
Fragments reflecting what she has ne’er known.
Plink and crash, crystal shards scattered wide.

*

By Gwen Myer on Soul Food Cafe

Tuesday, 17 April 2007

Open to interpretation

Saturday, 14 April 2007

Wrong message

Thursday, 12 April 2007

A Jedi Lost

A man approached, his slow footsteps announcing his coming.

“Go away,” I said, without opening my eyes. “I’m becoming one with the Force.”

Did I sound mad? Good.

“My presence will not impede on the process, I assure you,” the stranger said with a deep, smooth voice.

“Have you been sent here to persuade me? Because you’ll be disappointed.”

He chuckled. “Far from it, Master Jedi. I was sent to kill you.”

“I don’t think I’ll need your help, thank you very much.” I hoped my words had the sound of nonchalance I did not feel.

“So it seems,” he replied dryly. “Mind if I join you?”

Polite as though his words were, he did not wait for an answer and sat down next to me on the ruin’s edge. Reluctantly I opened my eyes, blinking at the gloomy daylight, and beheld his face.

He’s handsome, I thought.

Why did that surprise me? What did I expect? Some hideous monster; a raving lunatic with a lump? The Dark Side is not a bodily infliction, after all. Yet for all my studies, I was not prepared to behold a real, living Sith Lord.

He was about the same age as me; a tall, muscular man, nearing the end of his prime. His skin was the colour of hot chocolate, a beautiful dark brown; features strong, yet gentle and open. His bald head was remarkably expressive and friendly; his broad smile charming and friendly. The stranger’s brown eyes, however, seemed oddly cold. Was there a burden behind those eyes, hidden behind a smile and good manners?

His black attire, a shape-hugging tunic partly covered by a long robe and hood, was remarkably similar to a Jedi’s. Strong hands lay open on his lap; he tried to make me feel comfortable, which strangely seemed to work. He smiled at me and met my eyes. I had to look away.

His words were like crystals; sparkling yet hard.

“I can’t say you’re making it hard on me, man. But as much as I fear disobeying my Master’s orders, I do not intend to kill you. You intrigue me.” His gaze followed mine across the valley and he sighed. “When you left it must’ve been a great loss for the Jedi Order.”

“Not that great a loss, I imagine,” I replied, shrugging. “I’ve now joined the ranks of the legendary Lost Jedi. A dubious honour. ‘Jac Eebra, previously a venerable Jedi Master, has sadly left the Order in search of his awaiting destiny,’ that’s what a Council representative said on Holonet. It was just a tiny announcement between the celebrity gossips. Sad, really. But as for how or why, I’m not telling you.”

“So be it.” Instead of expanding on the subject, he remained quiet. Possibly he thought I would start explaining if the silence grew, but I was not particularly inclined to. Instead I kept my gaze on the endless ruins in the Valley of the Dark Lords around us and thought about how this man could entrance me so. Must be the seduction of the Dark Side, which was terribly strong here on Korriban.

Yet the attraction I felt could not be denied; real or Force-fuelled, there was a soft warmth inside me when he, at last, turned towards me again and whispered conspiratorially in my ear,
“What is it that you want, boy? Really want? Truth? Love?”

“Do not mistake me for some naïve padawan,” I replied, trying to sound offended. Why did he call me ‘boy’? “Save your critique on the Jedi for the ignorant and wronged. I have no trouble with the Order or its principles.”

“If so, why did you leave?”

Curse his insight. “Personal differences.”

“Ah. Of course.” He smiled; a sly little grin. “Differences in opinions on how best to be a Jedi, I’m sure. I know you used to be something of a philosopher, pondering the Force and its ways. My guess would be that while studying and philosophizing, you realized you were not doing what you were supposed to be doing. You realized you were raised without questioning your standards, and you started to do so.”

I shook my head, smiling. “You are asking for my reasons, and I already told you I’m not telling.”

“Very well,” he said. “But whatever the reason, I want you to consider this: now that you no longer are a part of the Jedi Order, are you willing to look into other ways to use the Force?”

“You’re asking me how I feel about joining the Sith?” I asked, incredulous. I could not believe he was asking me, just like that. Somehow I had always imagined that Sith Lords tricked people into joining them. Apparently I was wrong.

“Actually, I did not say that. But I was getting there.”

I looked at him. He looked so very attractive.

“I –,” I started, and looked away. “I’m afraid I don’t feel much either way.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Pardon me?”

I sighed. Get this over with, then. “Several years ago, a padawan turned to the Dark Side. I killed him, but only after he had killed his master.”

He nodded, but remained silent.

“After the incident, I searched my feelings, but found none. At first, I thought I had found peace in their fates, but gradually, I realized it wasn’t quite like that. In fact, I couldn’t remember a time when I did have any emotions. No mourning, no anger, no jealousy – no love.” I looked up at him. “The Order raises us to have no attachments, but also no emotions. There was an emptiness inside me that was destroying me.”

“That’s when you decided to leave the Order.”

“Actually, it took me more than three standard years to figure it out, but by then I had made up my mind and not even the Council could talk me out of it.”

“Every child eventually leaves his parents’ house to make a home for himself,” the dark stranger said, and somehow his words were exactly what I needed to hear. Understanding. “To be Sith is to be living a full life, unbound by the silly chains those around us wish to force onto us. How can such a life be any lower than a life of servitude to an ancient Order without roots in reality?” He looked at me and almost whispered. “Not unlike the Jedi, the Sith live by a credo: Peace is a lie; there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”

I looked at him, and the Sith, with new eyes. A full life, without other people telling me what to do – and all it took was passion. The thought was quite hopeful.

He went on. “I seem to find myself in a similar position as you were in. You see, I am my Master’s apprentice only in name; he has taught me everything. Therefore he has sent me to kill you, so I can become a true Sith Lord. However, he and I both know it does not work that way. My true task, if I am to become a Master, is to kill him.” A rueful smile. “Through victory, my chains are broken.”

I was speechless. Did this man just admit his desire to kill a man?

“My Master, Darth Hssiss, has sent two bounty hunters after us; surely you must’ve felt their presence by now. They’re probably instructed to kill us as soon as we leave this spot.”

I did sense two individuals, just out of reach of any ordinary senses, lurking in the shadows. What intrigued me more, though, was the name of the stranger’s Master; this Darth Hssiss. This was getting more interesting by the minute.

“So what does this have to do with me,” I asked casually. “I mean, are you asking me to distract those bounty hunters or anything?”

I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it.

“You’d be my apprentice.”

I grinned. “I don’t suppose I can think about it for a couple of days?”


The dream, though each time subtly different, always followed a certain pattern. From the shadows of a dead empire, a great black one-eyed beast emerged, filled with hatred and anger. The beast was a dark side dragon, commonly known as hssiss, and it was strong with the Dark Side of the Force. Every time I slept, I dreamed of facing off with the beast, but every time, neither of us won or lost.

An eternal, nocturnal struggle.



For several long years had I asked Jedi Masters for an explanation of this dream, and the answers were always the same: Train yourself to let go of those you fear to lose; be prepared to face the darkness in yourself. Gradually, I realized I would not find answers amongst those who looked to the past rather than to the present or the future for wisdom.

I had committed the dream to my own ruthless logic, and dissected it into smaller, understandable parts. I found out that the fear I felt upon waking was 63% fear of dying, 3% fear for those around me, 5% fear of the Dark Side, and 29% fear of the unknown. Approximately.

The fear of dying was, in essence, a denial of the very teachings of the Jedi – there is no death, only the Force. However, it would not go away. The fear of the unknown, on the other hand, could be faced. After years of considering, it was a logical step to confront this fear by leaving the Jedi.

Dissecting the dream had felt good; the dark realm of night would not stand against the brightness of cold, hard logic. But yet, I felt something was just beyond my grasp; as if I was trying to catch smoke with my bare hands…

Days after leaving the Order, I decided to go to Korriban. Hssiss were common on several planets, but for some reason Korriban felt right. The fact that it was home to the ruins of the ancient Sith Empire seemed to enhance that feeling – a monument to a grand rebellion against the arrogant Jedi Order.



Fooling two simpleminded bounty hunters was easy even for a padawan, but my new companion showed me how to do it like a Sith; he used something akin to a mind trick to let one fear the dark. On Korriban, where the sun was about to set and shadows grew longer, there were dark places everywhere. It was mildly amusing to hear his terrified screams in the distance.

In an attempt to gain the Sith’s trust, I used the Force to increase the other bounty hunter’s blood pressure until he fainted. My newly acquired Master, who went by the name of Darth Nyx, seemed pleased with my achievement. Unbeknownst to him, I made sure the victim’s blood pressure would drop soon after we left.

This Lord Hssiss, I pondered, had to have something to do with the dreams I’d been having for the last five years or so. It was entirely possible that he was even the Sith Lord that had lured Li, the padawan, to the Dark Side, but those thoughts I kept to myself. For now it was best to let Nyx think that I was doing this for him and me alone.



Getting to the place where Darth Hssiss waited for the return of either his apprentice or the bounty hunters required a long and hazardous walk through and over many ruins of the old Sith dynasty. It was a slow journey and Darth Nyx and I spoke only when we did not need to concentrate much.

He told me about the Force and how the Dark Side had given him so much, but at a terrible prize. For every scrap of knowledge, his Master had made him suffer. “He always said it was better to learn something first hand, to realize the power of what you’re doing. Many nights I spent in agony, building the power I now possess.” He shook his head, his eyes cast down as he seemed to remember far too much of it. “It was necessary, yet now abundant.”

Before he could tell me more, Nyx pointed towards the second largest building in sight and said, “That’s the place.” It was a largely intact structure, built into the rocky mountain wall, with two massive statues in front of it; one an apparent Sith warrior, the other damaged beyond recognition. Their shadows fell over the entrance of the enormous building; a ridiculously large gate with damaged decorations of frightening beasts and muscular warriors. The decorations on the structure had largely been eroded away by the elements, but the building itself was on of the few to have weathered the centuries. Inside we went.

We walked in silence through a maze of dark corridors and empty halls, the sound of our echoed footsteps moving along with us, until at last we reached a grand hall. It was dimly illuminated by the last rays of the sun through slits in the high ceiling. There, in between two enormous pillars, stood a simple chair and some basic equipment making up a makeshift camp. In front of the chair stood a thin, black clad figure. Nyx and I approached him cautiously.

Lord Hssiss was a pale old man with piercing red eyes – no, eye; his face had a scar where once his left eye had been. The scar was almost as white as his skin, indicating that it was an old injury. Perhaps the padawan had done some damage before his turning, I thought with grim satisfaction.

It took me several moments to notice that, in fact, most of the Sith Lord’s left arm was missing, too. He used the Force to grip his lightsaber hilt and simultaneously mimic the shape of an arm inside the sleeve of his robe.

“You foolish little sand sloth,” the old dragon hissed. “How dare you return with your target unharmed?”

His words, enhanced by a strong hatred conveyed through the Force, were like poison running through my veins. This was a Sith like the Jedi had spoken of; a twisted mind of death and destruction. The meaning of my dreams became clear instantly; this was the opponent I must face.

“I return with a prize beyond your comprehension, my Master,” Nyx spoke, emphasizing the last words with dripping sarcasm. “The future of the Sith have I brought.”

Apart from smiling the tiniest of smiles, Lord Hssiss did not move. “The future looks rather boring, I must say. Please tell me you’re not considering this bantha fodder worthy of the Sith legacy.”

“I am,” Nyx said, and for some reason I felt proud. I hadn’t felt like that for years. It was a good feeling, unrestricted by Jedi rules. How could I have believed those silly rules for so long? Ridiculous chains, they were just holding me back.

“Doom on us all, then.” The old Sith Lord moved before the words had crossed his lips. Despite his old and stiff appearance, he moved swiftly and efficiently. I barely had time to switch on my lightsaber before his first strike came.

This was going to be more difficult than I had hoped for.



The Hssiss made quick movements, trying to force an opening in my defences. His fangs and claws came from all sides and all dimension – the Force itself seemed against me as all my usual grace fell to the dusty floor. Teeth gritted, I fought the war I had waged for countless nights. This time, though, a radiant darkness fought at my side, whispering.

“Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”



The fight was long; Lord Hssiss was very skilled with a lightsaber. His technique was excellent, and his constant attacks through the Force were very unsettling. We fought at equal levels, and rather than letting the Force dictate my moves, I learned how to direct it myself.

Eventually, Nyx and I gained the upper hand. My new Master whispered instructions, making me strong with the Dark Side. Thoughts about defeating the entire Sith Order were pushed aside, so as to better achieve the power required to defeat the evil Sith Lord. With every blow, I gained strength; with every bit of hatred, I gained ground on the old man.

I’m winning.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, a blinding pain shot through my legs. I found myself on the dusty floors with my eyes closed, screaming in agony. My legs were gone!

“You have fought well, my apprentice,” Darth Nyx spoke gently.

Fought well? I bloody lost my legs!

“Thank you, Master,” Lord Hssiss replied. Master? Through blinding pain and overwhelming confusion, I struggled to look up and saw the two Sith Lords kissing each other’s lips. What twisted pair is this?

Nyx looked down at me, the sympathy in his eyes replaced by cold hatred. “It seems you do feel emotions, boy. And your wish of becoming one with the Force will be granted.” He faced his apprentice once more, kissed him, and spoke, “His death will be only the beginning. The Sith will become so powerful that no-one will ever be able to stop us.” His gaze swung back to me, hatred and anger giving his eyes a crazed fire. “Your precious Jedi, along with the corrupted Republic, will fall!”

“Wait,” I screamed, “I thought you said you wouldn’t kill me!”

Nyx grinned coldly. “Hardly a promise. But I won’t kill you, boy. That honour falls to my apprentice – my real apprentice.”

A savagely grinning Lord Hssiss stepped forward, raising his scarlet lightsaber high above his head.



The great beast loomed over me, bloodlust in his red eye. His claw came down, blinding me with pain and anguish. “Deception is the way of the Sith,” the shadow whispered. “Peace is a lie. Through victory, his chains are broken. The Force will free you both.”

The Force seemed to wrap my conscience into itself; a safe haven, pain barely detectable. It whispered wordlessly to me, urging to let go; to become one with that great current of all living things. I smiled; a thing I was not even sure was physical. Emotions had come to me, after all. In their own twisted way, the Sith had done the will of the Force and had set me free.

One last tug of the Force and everything else fell away. I was free.


**

Wednesday, 11 April 2007

Dragonology

The Dragon is this:

Great, small, terrifying, comforting, dangerous, safe.

Man is this:

Servant, master, disciple, nemesis, fellow, contrast.

How is it that one can adore the other, yet shuns all recognition? Dragon and man are archenemies, yet they are one and the same. The hunter is the prey is the beast is the dragon is the man.

What is their tale but an elaborate theater to dazzle bystanders with smoke and fire?

Man created the Dragon and dragon created man. The man fears and worries and crumbles, and the Dragon makes it so. Man is defined by the Dragon, as the Dragon is defined by man.

Man and Dragon are two sides of a coin. But Dragon and woman, on the other hand...

*

Wednesday, 4 April 2007

Seduction of the Dark Side

The Dark Side is sexy. Admit it. Who doesn't love a bad girl or boy? It's exciting, dangerous, rebellious; it makes you feel different and special.

Darkness itself is sexy, too - mysterious, shady, obscure. Unpleasantries are hidden in the dark. One only sees what they want to see. Attraction.

And then, of course, there is The Darkness. No, not the band - the Darkness. The power of chaos and creation. A force older than mankind, older than the universe itself. A dark and powerful ally or enemy. Nothing is impossible for the Darkness. Cunning, goodlooking, violent.

What is this Darkness I speak of? Simple: the power that runs in the blood of the Estacado's. A terrible power - and strong ally when controlled.

Click.

*

Monday, 2 April 2007

Read my latest fanfic

I've competed in the FanFiction Challenge 2007, and here's my entry. Check it out!

And don't forget to vote for me! :)

Thursday, 29 March 2007

I swear to you...

...I am no Jedi. Never have been.

I love. I hate. I mourn. I envy. I desire. I sicken.

I live.

How can anyone living a life that is not their own, look down upon others? Is it better to live according to rules that others have created? Rules that you're not even sure will work for the reason they were created for in the first place - like the strict rules for the Jedi?

To be Sith is to be living a full life, unbound by the silly chains those around us wish to force onto us. How can such a life be any lower than a life of servitude to an ancient Order without roots in reality?

Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.

*

Tuesday, 27 March 2007

Top Ten: Crossover

What if things we take for granted were placed within the Star Wars universe? What would happen?

10. Imagine the look on Jabba's face as the first Burger King on the planet opened in his own backyard.

9. Yoda races across the Temple grounds on a tricycle, followed by a gang of squealing younglings on similar means of transportation.

8. Soon after his mechanical limbs have been added to his body, Darth Vader insists that his mask needs a hole for a straw to drink his Diet Coke.

7. Padmé gets awarded for "best crying scene" for the Holonet Oscars.

6. Mace Windu keeps losing the keys to his speeder, and keeps finding them on his bedstand.

5. While they are setting up a trap for Luke Skywalker, Jabba's cellphone starts ringing, spoiling the surprise.

4. Every half hour, C-3PO insists that "a fatal exception has occured. Please shut down any running programs and restart your droid".

3. Palpatine is revealed to have had an "intimate" relationship with an intern on the Senate.

2. Yoda features in a commercial for a fruit drink that is said to "greatly enhance your life expectancy".

1. A young Anakin is expelled from the Jedi Order for not taking down the posters of semi-naked Senators from his dormroom walls.

Monday, 12 March 2007

Ryan vs Dorkman 2

Remember this? Now watch this:
Ryan vs Dorkman. The ultimate in fanflics.


*
Edit: Today, Thursday March 15th, I received a mail I'd like to share with you, stating the following:
"Just wanted to let you know that Ryan and Dorkman, the makers of the ligthsaber duel you showed so much enthusiasm for, are going to be appearing in a live Q&A online this Sunday to talk about how they made the film and some of the visual effects techniques they were able to use on their low budget. It's starting at 7PM EST on March 18th and we'd love to have you come by or throw a shout out to the radio show. Thanks!

-Chris Hanel

Geekza - http://www.geekza.com"

Sadly, I'm busy this Sunday, but I wanted to share this with all of you. Enjoy it!

*

Sunday, 11 March 2007

The Dork Tower


Saturday, 10 March 2007

Veiled secrets

How many times have you watched Star Wars and thought, "what if..." - what if this had happened, or that had been different?

No, don't tell me.

I present to you... drumroll please... the Top Ten of Improbable Yet Not Impossible Alternative Truths of The Star Wars Galaxy...

10. Jar-Jar has been working for Sidious all along, actually being a spy called Jarren "Bad" Smimm.

9. Mace Windu has actually been fathered by Yoda, but sadly he did not inherit the green Master's sense of humour.

8. Throughout most of the saga, R2D2 stuggled with his hidden oil bath addiction.

7. If Ewoks are nurtured with the right vitamins, they turn out to be Wookiees.

6. Amongst the members of the Jedi Council it was a well-known secret that Master Ki-Adi-Mundi used muscle boosters, responsible for his large forehead.

5. Rather than using the Force, Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader commonly communicated by text messages (and smoke signals on Tatooine).

4. Jabba the Hutt had tried several diets, but his dietitian swore his habit of eating large amounts of living creatures nullified any effect. Jabba naturally ate this dietitian and decided on an "I look better with slave girls in metal bikinis"-lifestyle.

3. Twi'leks are Nautolans who tore out all but two of their "tentacles".

2. The Millenium Falcon has been constructed, rather hastily, from the remains of several battle droids, two protocol droids, a captured ysalamir and half a Republic Cruiser - including its crew.

And finally, number 1: Darth Maul had a large collection of dark robes, because his hoods kept getting shredded by his horns.

Movie tip

Tuesday, 6 March 2007

Letters to the divine being

Some kids are scary. 'Nuff said.

Tuesday, 27 February 2007

Par tay in the cantina

Monday, 26 February 2007

Strike back

That's right, it's Jay and Silent Bob.

On my blog.

I guess you must be wondering, "why, DF, why?" Well, it's quite simple really. Very, very simple.

But I'm not going to tell you.

Have you ever seen Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back? No? You should.

But get high first. That way you'll enjoy it, your dealer will enjoy it, and in the end, your addiction will have to be treated by a professional, who'll also enjoy it.

Plus of course the maker and producer of the film, the film company guys, the actors, the cameramen, the stuntcrew (they had stuntguys? for what?), and generally everyone else in the world will benefit, since your acceptance of cannabis has such influences on other people that they will smoke it too, and everyone will be cool and relaxed and not make war, but probably won't make love either - I'm not gonna explain, just listen.

Oh, and the reason I posted these guys? 'Cause they're cool. And 'cause I wanna.

No, not because I got high. Honestly.

Honestly!

*

Thursday, 15 February 2007

Your own personal evil

I hope you all had a nice Valentine; mine certainly was.

Today I'd like to discuss "evil". Evil is bad, wrong, corrupt, rotten - right? Everybody seems to know, instinctively or by learning, what evil is, yet when one tries to define it, one can't. Evil is different for different people.

Evil, like good, is a point of view.

One person's death is another's bread, says a Dutch proverb and while this is obviously the case for undertakers, it's still true on a less morbid level. One sport team's defeat is another's victory. Granted, that defeat might not be "evil", but how about a war?

The majority of soldiers see the enemy as evil. Of course this is a necessity, for you can't fight someone you like and agree with, but the majority of the population sees the enemy as evil and wrong, too. There is an automatic response of interpreting one's own values as better and more noble. The misguided emotion known as "patriotism" is one form of this; people who voice their disagreements are seen as traitors to the country.

However, they can't all be right. How can both sides to an argument, to a war, be "right"? At least one of them is wrong, and probably both of them. Plus, there is the very real possibility that there is no right or wrong.

Like "wrong" is defined by "right", so is "evil" defined by "good". Evil begins where good ends; without evil there is no good. Evil needs good.

And good needs evil.

This view is symbolized by the yin and yang: one half is white and one half is black. They define each other. Eastern philosophy acknowledges the fact that evil cannot be exterminated - not without eliminating good. Without evil, there is no good - without the Dark Side there would not be a Light Side; without villains there are no heroes; without night there is no day.

Yet ironically, evil and good are points of view, and therefore they do not exist in reality. Don't get fooled by the zealous religious: evil is all inside our heads. And it needs goodness in there, too.

*

Wednesday, 7 February 2007

Soapblogs politics

Politics again - I swear it won't be boring. Well, I'll try.

Politics. What do you envision? A room filled with old men in grey suits talking and discussing? Young people locked in an epic battle of words? Puppets that dance for money? Leaders that decide how we should live our lives?

Regardless of where you live, there will always be politicians. Some of them cruel and selfish - we call them either "dictators" or "corrupt" - and some of them dedicated and selfless - we call them either "good" or "naive". Some will be self-appointed, others elected democratically. Some will be good and tactical, others blunt and offensive; some will do what the people want, some will do what the people need, and others will do whatever the hell they want.

Life is politics. Better learn it.

Democracy is said to be the best form of government, and I have a slight tendency to agree. Slight, yes. Because what democracy is currently coupled with is bureaucracy and layer upon layer of government agencies and endless debates over small matters.

Democracy is not these things. Democracy means the people have the power - literally. Like I argued in my last political blog, this power is entrusted to a small group of people expected to wield it in the best interest of all. That is what democracy, in its core, is.

What has happened over the centuries in most democratic countries, though, is that an increasing amount of people are represented by the same, unchanged amount of politicians, and an increasing amount of people do not feel represented by those politicians. This also works the other way: increasingly, politicians are forced to promote themselves and their sometimes impopular policies to the people, and pass popular laws that are not necessarily in the best interest of people. After all, the masses do not always know what is best - it's not their job, they're just the people who have put the government in charge.

People do not feel represented or even taken seriously by their governments. I feel this is because there are too many layers of government and that too few views are communicated to the audience through multimedia. Many political parties are rarely talked about on tv - intentional or not - whereas others are regular guests.

Governments should be more local than (inter)national and should be able to communicate directly with its people, as well as get things done quickly. Like the milkman regularly comes by to deliver his milk, so the politician should regularly come by to communicate about local issues. A small community with similar thoughts on matters - a hippy community, or a racist community, or a communist community, or even an anarchistic community. Likeminded people, with no need for debates in which neither side will ever give in.

Or, we could just create everyone equal using genetic engineering. And create a thought police to guard any rebel thoughts and use video surveallance cameras called "big brother" to watch you.

Hey, too much democracy can lead to a totalitarian regime. A people's regime.

*

Saturday, 3 February 2007

Another shocking SW revelation!

Tuesday, 30 January 2007

Next gen Star Wars

I'm here to rescue you... honest!

So as I was crashing through the window in my X-wing, I was -

Wait, you're probably oblivious to what the hell I'm talking about. Nevermind, then. You should've been there.

So what can I show you today? No, ladies, that's private. Yes, that too. Good try, though. No, miss, in that picture Artoo Detoo does NOT look like a - I know, but it isn't. And neither is that Jawa doing anythi- you perv. How dare you? Go hither and multiply, or something. Geez.

As I was saying: what can I show you today? You tell me. What do you want to see? Tell me. Anything.

(This offer is only available today, Tuesday 30 January 2007 West European time, and does not imply any action will be taken by the dragon in question unless you really really try hard to convince him that it is, indeed, the right thing to do, included but not limited to listen to you and to act upon any request. Financial or medical consequences for eye damage due to reading this small font will not be compensated in any way. )

Fine print if ever there was any.

Come on, bring me that request! Want me to bring down a regime? Want me to expose Bigfoot? Show the first astromech? Reveal a Jawa's face?

Show you the real me?

Your choice! Choose wisely. Be careful what you wish for - you just might get it.

Monday, 29 January 2007

Star Wars Reinterpreted


Sunday, 28 January 2007

Mah nah mah nah...

I hate progress

Today I switched my Blogger account.

Such a simple statement, such a simple action. But trust me, a lot of effort has gone into trying to avoid this moment.

There are a couple of group blogs I'm a member of, most notably the Fanfic Blog, and they have not switched yet. Therefore I had the intention to stay "old school" until the moment they upgraded. However, I had not foreseen the powers of persuasion that Blogger can excercise. Very powerful indeed.

Today I tried to post a blog. I don't even remember on which site. However, upon logging in, I was notified that I have not switched yet. I know this. However, where there had previously been an option to continue with the old account, was none to be found.

I had to switch, or I wouldn't be able to blog.

Power of persuasion. Or forced decisions? Either way, I decided my blog was more important that Blogger politics. I switched. I don't know if I made the right decision, but at least I'm able to blog again. Over here. Not on the old group blogs.

I hate progress.

Scratch that, I hate forced progress. Change can be good, but may occasionally be bad for the changed. I don't know whether this will be good or bad. I say, let's find out.

No turning back now. You have passed the point of no return. It's all or nothing. You're in for the ride, for better or worse.

Here goes nothing.

Wednesday, 24 January 2007

Dragon business, back to your drinks...

It's a hard life, being a dragon on the internet. I know you don't believe me, but it is.

I mean, it's so hard to keep your own identity between all those competitors. Have you ever tried googling "dragon"? Trust me, I won't be on any of the first 700 pages.

There's too much competition on the web. How is a simple dragon, trying to make his way on the net, to get the attention he craves? It's dragon overdose, I tell you.

Plus all my friends get slain by knights in shiny armour. Don't you hate it when that happens? And they never even bury the bones; I mean, that's just gross. And they call themselves civilized. Yeah, sure.

The only good part about this job is the treasure. And you know it, not all treasure is silver and gold. The maidens in distress - that's my true motivation right there. Long flowing strands of golden hair, with a face like an angel, and a voice that goes "eeeeeeh" when you even look at them. Life's good when you've got maidens. Just too bad they keep trying to escape when you're taking a nap. Perhaps it's time to contact that evil stepmother again, to place some more curses so I have to "guard" those lovely ladies in that remote fortress. Well, last time didn't end so great, so I might have to think twice.

And scaring horses is always funny. Just too bad their owners keep on sending those slayers. I hate dragon slayers. If there's one thing I hate more than kids thinking they can ride on my back...

Last of all, I'm having a very hard time typing the words right with these massive claws. It takes hours just completing a sentence without accidentally typing "jessljkjklsdjkdf".

The hidden tortures of being a dragon on the internet in the year 2007. Please love me more now. I'll not eat you, no matter what they say. Just small bites every now and then.

Tuesday, 23 January 2007

How To Become A Goth In 10 Easy Steps

To become that icon of style, that rolemodel of vampires and corpses alike, follow these ten simple rules and you'll live the rest of your undead life as a certified goth!

Step 1: Dye your hair. Black. Other colours, like red, white or green, take many years of experience and must never be combined with anything other than black clothes (see step 2). Highlights are acceptable if the colours are not too flashy.

Step 2: Change your wardrobe. Black is your new middle name. Colour must be avoided at all costs, with the exception of dark red. White is only acceptable if it makes up less than 5% of your total look. Anything that would be fitting for a Romanticistic noble(wo)man, if black, is acceptable. Combine this with anything from modern S&M, like chains on your trousers or handcuffs connected to a collar.

Step 3: Change your record collection. Throw out the Beach Boys, the Spice Girls, the Beasty Boys, and everything else that has "boys" or "girls" in it. Anything that is remotely cheerful has got to go. Instead, buy Cradle of Filth, Evanescence, Marilyn Manson and Bad Religion. Anything that has a weird name, looks weird, sounds like someone clearing their throat and which your parents will never ever accept in the living room.

Step 4: Throw your morals out the window, too. Being a goth means you're a slut (male/female). Consider it your only chance at getting laid looking like that.

Step 5: Paint your nails. Yes, this goes for guys too - in fact, you're lucky, since this is probably the only subculture to accept it besides the local transvestites. Black is again the colour to choose.

Step 6: Paint your face. As surprising as it may be, it'll not be black, but white. Imagine you've been indoors without seeing the sun for a very very long time - which is probably true.

Step 7: Additional makeup includes eyelashes (black), dyed eyebrows (black), and lipstick (black - or, if you're a real pro, red). This is not mandatory for guys, but encouraged. Dark eyes are compulsary, though. Coloured contact lenses are optional for both male and female.

Step 8: Get pierced. You know, those pieces of metal through skin - they go into every part of you that one can imagine. And I know you can imagine quite many places. Yes, including that and those. At the very least, have a ring in your nose or eyebrow - preferably both, connected by a silvery chain. But know that there is no such thing as "too many piercings". And yes, people will find out (see step 4).

Step 9: Act like you're high on cannabis - which is probably true. This means you criticize and complain about everything (particularly physical exercise), sit around all day doing nothing, and talk at great length about next to nothing.

And finally, step 10: You talk, think, sing, act and write about only one thing: death. It is the sole topic of conversation. Celebrate it, adore it, worship it, fear it, overcome it - your life evolves around death. And the best thing is that you even look like it.

You are now a certified goth!

But don't cheer - goths don't cheer.


***
P.S. I did write a serious piece on goths, located here.

Monday, 22 January 2007

Power to the people

Fundamentally, governments exist to serve and protect their people. The basis of democratic government is that people choose some men and women from their midst to make decisions, so that these can be made quickly and pragmatically. In this way, governments, or rather their members, are elected because they stand for what the people want. That's what we call "democracy".

It is not democratic, however, for a government to stay in office when a majority is against it. A change in policy would be, but you can't expect a conservative to work on progressive policies, so the most logical thing to do would be to withdraw and organize new elections. And not to hide behind some bureaucratic rules about "ending your term", just because some other government at some other time thought that would be the responsible thing to do.

A referendum must be created, that can force a government to step down.

However, the trouble doesn't end there. These new elections - the ultimate democratic process, say you? A puppet show, says I.

How much of either party's points of view do you know and remember from the last election in your country? In any country? And how much have you heard about how good/bad/reliable/unreliable any candidate is? And, be honest, have you considered voting for someone that is not the pretty posterboy/girl?

Look deeper. Think for yourself. Take charge.

Viva la revolución!

Saturday, 20 January 2007

Up for a challenge?

May I please point your attention this way, to the event of the year, the ultimate clash of the titans?

Or not.

But please, if you are interested, and I'm guessing you are, you might be interested in the Fanfiction Challenge 2007 over on Fanfic For Bloggers. I'll be both the host and one of the competing writers. If you have a work to contribute and you're not (yet) a member, contact me and I'll see what I can do. And if you're not a writer, you can at least have a good time reading all the other stuff.

Trust me, it's gonna be good. Like chocolate, but better.

Friday, 19 January 2007

Tuesday, 16 January 2007

Goth the life

Somehow I've managed to not talk about one of my other fascinations. That is shocking to me, since it's possibly an even bigger obsession than Star Wars and blogging together. I know, it's that bad.

I've always been a fan of fantasy and the line between reality and makebelieve is one I find very interesting indeed. And as macabre as it may sound, the role death plays in that.

Sounds creepy? I bet. But I've always been fascinated by so-called "gothic novels" and the gothic subculture.

And vampires.

Vampires and the goth lifestyle are often associated, for obvious reasons. Goth wear black clothes, often oldfashioned style, dye their hair black and pale their faces. The resemblance to an undead corpse isn't that farfetched.

However, both vampires and goths are often misinterpreted. When talking about vampires, people quickly start to talk about stakes, garlic and full moons. Full moons? That's werewolves for you. Their ancient enemy. But vampires are fascinating. I once did an essay on them, and discovered that although cultures around the world have their own sort of vampires - just like dragons - they are all just a bit different.

So what defines a vampire?

Is it being a walking corpse? Nah, some cultures believe in vampires that have nonhuman origins, or no origin in life at all. Is it the human appearance? Nah, some believe in vampires made of flames. Is it the seducing aspect? Nah, some vampires are just plain gross. Kind of like zombies.

Is it the blooddrinking? There are some creatures that do not drink blood, yet they are most definately vampires.

So what defines a vampire?

And what defines a goth?

Goth, in my opinion, is misinterpreted by many people, even goths. Does that sound ridiculous? I'm sure. But please realize just how many people just try to fit in, even in such small and remarkable groups. However, misunderstanding is more common amongst those who are not gothics.

I once had a conversation with a religious woman who had read about goths, yet she never had encountered any. She was appalled, yet fascinated. Of course the article, in a christian magazine, was not too objective, and often reminded readers that some goths deny god, or are satanists. And I explained, that the essence of goth is not that.

Goth, in essence, is a philosophical view of life, in which death is acknowledged as the ultimate certainty. Every being is subject to death, human and animal alike, and also angels, demons and gods. Goths are not religious by that view, since they do not see any god or devil as mightier than death. Satanists are not gothics.

However, the misunderstanding stems from that view of death. Many people think gothics are fascinated by death, yet the opposite is true. In accepting the finality of death, gothics take more pleasure in life.

Gothics enjoy life on a more conscious level than most of us.

I know there are people that call themselves goths and disagree with this. But in essence, this is what gothic is all about. Misunderstanding comes from too few explanations from the gothic subculture, but also because people don't bother to look under the eerie surface.

I would call myself gothic if it wasn't for the fact that I don't wear makeup. I do like dark medieval-looking clothes, and I love the silvery jewelry with pentacles and such. I am not fascinated by death, yet I am fascinated by vampires. The nightstalking undead, caught between their previous lives and the death they cannot reach. The ultimate exception to the ultimate truth.

Please don't look down on goths ever again.

Monday, 15 January 2007

Booze and boobs

So I was thinking, like, seriously... I uhm... This thought... Did you ever... Let's talk about... no...

Oh, screw the text. I just needed an excuse to post this picture. Lovely ladies. With beer. What more could a guy want?

Yes, except food. But Germans have very good food.













Yes, right there. Big pints of lager.

Saturday, 13 January 2007

Iraq policy

I'll let other people do the talking.

"The good news is last night President Bush finally admitted he's made mistakes in Iraq. The bad news is he's planning to make the same mistakes again."
Jay Leno

"Bush is going to send more troops to Iraq. That's the solution. And I was thinking, you think he'd being doing this if he were still in the National Guard."
David Letterman

"People who watched the speech said President Bush looked uncomfortable. And I was thinking, of course -- he was in a library surrounded by books."
David Letterman

"After hearing the president's speech, Democrats in the Senate are seeking bipartisan support for a non-binding resolution opposing President Bush's deployment of his military escalation. In response, President Bush said, 'Huh?'"
Conan O'Brien

"President Bush also said that all the military commanders who have looked at his plan say it will work. That's because all the ones who said it wouldn't work aren't military commanders anymore."
Jay Leno

"Ted Kennedy attacked the president. He said Iraq is George Bush's Vietnam. Which is very unfair. There is a huge difference. Bush knew how to get out of Vietnam."
Jay Leno

"President Bush is now calling for sending 21,000 more troops to Iraq. How does he come up with that number? I don't even think 21,000 people in the country think it's a good idea."
Jay Leno

Thursday, 11 January 2007

A question for intellectuals

So, there's this one particular question that has come up in a conversation I had a while ago. While it is most certainly meant for intelligent people, I've decided to let you guys and gals know, too. Don't ask me why. So... on to the question.


You're driving a car, at a constant speed, with on your left side an abyss.

To the right of you, a car from the fire brigade is driving at the same constant speed and appears to want to pass you.

In front of you, a huge pig, even bigger than your car, is running at the same constant speed.

Behind you flies a helicopter, just above the ground, at again the same constant speed.

The question is this: how can you stop without causing any accident?

Please, think about it.

Then click here.

Wednesday, 10 January 2007

This is your life

And you open the door and step inside. We're inside our hearts. Now imagine your pain as a white ball of healing light. That's right - your pain, the pain itself, is a white ball of healing light.

I don't think so.

This is your life - good to the last drop. It doesn't get any better than this. This is your life - and it's ending, one minute at a time. This isn't a seminar. This isn't a weekend retreat. Where you are now you can't even imagine what the bottom will be like. Only after disaster can we be resurrected. It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything. Nothing is static. Everything is appalling. Everything is falling apart. This is your life.

This is your life - this is your life. This is your life. Doesn't get any better than this. This is your life.

This is your life - this is your life! This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We are all part of the same compost heap. We are the all singing, all dancing crap of the world.

You are not your bank account. You are not the clothes you wear. You are not the contents of your wallet. You are not your bowel cancer. You are not your grande latte. You are not the car you drive. You are not your fuckin' khaki's.

You have to give up. You have to give up. You have to realize that someday you will die - until you know that, you are useless.

I say: let me never be complete. I say: may I never be content. I say: deliver me from Swedish furniture. I say: deliver me from clever arts. I say: deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth. I say: you have to give up. I say: evolve, and let the chips fall where they may. This is your life.

This is your life - this is your life! This is your life. Doesn't get any better than this. This is your life.

This is your life - this is your life - this is your life. And it - and it's ending. One minute at a time. You have to give up. You have to give up.

I want you to hit me - as hard as you can. I want you to hit me as hard as you can!

Welcome to Fight Club. If this is your first night - you have to fight.

Monday, 8 January 2007

Dead of night

In dead of night
you're such a sight.
Undress just right,
red hot delight.


And then, of course,
you're on all fours.
I shove with force.
You're mine; I'm yours.

You're right: quite tight.
My head grows light.
You bite, I fight,
your thighs ignite.

At once I spurt.
Ask if you're hurt;
you have not heard.
I re-insert.

Sunday, 7 January 2007

The dark days after the holidays

It's all over now.

No more Christmas for several months. New year has come, and the celebrations have died down. Not even a holiday in the near future to look forward to.

The dark days after the holidays, that's what we're in right now. The partying has ended, the days grow longer again, winter is still upon us, and nothing worth celebrating coming soon.

Dark days, and cold.

Personally, if I had the chance to decide when the holidays would be, I would have them more regularly. Or at least more often during the winter. But sadly, it's not up to me.

Did you know that most Christian holidays, like Christmas and Eastern, are on the exact same dates as older pagan holidays? The tree at Christmas isn't exactly a Christian symbol. And what do you think you celebrate at Halloween? Pagan celebrations. Heathen. Polytheistic. Witches.

It's an amazing piece of agressive propaganda of the early Christian church to place its most sacred holidays on the days that older religions had. People didn't even have to change their agendas if they got converted to Christianity. Same holiday, different god. Religion of convenience.

What do you think of when you hear or read "devil"? The incarnation, I mean. Do you think of a multi-headed monster, or a man with a goat's horns and hooves? In the latter case, you're deceived. Nowhere in the bible is this creature described, but it is in fact a pagan god. Talk about demonising your enemy.

Now, I'm not discrediting today's Christianity. That's for another blog... But seriously, it's merely an attempt at learning about religion's early days. To know the future, you must know the past.

Remember when next time you're celebrating a pagan holiday...

Games not make one great

Remember my Christmas wishlist back in September?

Unexpectedly, I got my wish. Well, not at Christmas, but I bought it myself two days ago. Darn, it is so cool.

I'll be offline for a couple of months, that's all.

Nah, just kidding.

It'll take more than a couple of months.

Thursday, 4 January 2007

It's the eyes, I tell ya

Look into my eyes.

Look deep into my eyes, and relax. Everything around you ceases to matter as you focus on my eyes. Big eyes. Enchanting eyes. Relax, and let your guard down.

Look into my eyes. Relax.

Relax. Listen to the sound of your even breathing. Rest.

Close your eyes.

Your limbs are growing heavy. Let them rest. Let them sleep. Feel your toes, each and every one; feel how they are relaxed. Let them rest.
Feel your legs, both left and right; feel how they are relaxed. Let them rest. Your arms - let them hang by your sides and let them rest. Your stomach - feel how it is relaxed. Let it rest. Your chest - let it sleep. Feel your eyelids resting over your eyes. Feel your chest rise and fall with your steady breath. Listen to the sound of your breath. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Relax.

Move your right hand up and unbutton your shirt. Take it off. Next, off comes the bra. And your jeans. And lastly your panties.

Now, open your legs and relax...

Wednesday, 3 January 2007

Close encounters of the dragon kind

What is it about dragons that fascinates people?

You may well be aware that stories and myths of dragons are common around the world, and that each culture has its own perspective on its looks, personality and significance. But every culture has dragons of some kind.

What does the dragon mean? Is it fear? "Look your dragon in the eyes", "slaying your dragon"; they do remind us of fear. But fear of what, exactly? Our inner phobias? Fear of the uncontrollable nature? The ultimate wild animal? The personification of whatever god, which has the power of life and death over you? The brutest strength, the deadliest killer?

Or is it knowledge? He who befriends or converses with a dragon gets to know a lot about - everything, really. The ways of the world. Magic. The wild. The sorcerer's stone? The elixer of life?

Or is it merely an artistic expression? A thing that looks cool and frightening; something to scare disobedient little children with? A clever combination of animal parts? A symbol in the legend of St George?

A counterpart to mankind's dominance?

A phallus symbol?

It pains me to say it, but I don't know the answer. To me, it is neither of the possiblities above, and yet all of them. Dragons are fear incarnated, knowledge to the ambitious, artistic icon, and just a story element. Everything and nothing.

Another blog with no real answers. Naught but questions remain, which is good. Questions are essential to life. "Where did I come from", "why are we all here anyway" and "why is that gorram lightsaber purple" are the engine of our thinking and surviving.

What does the dragon mean to you?

Tuesday, 2 January 2007

I, Sigmund

I sit in my office, still tired from getting up so early this morning, trying to remember last night’s dreams. It’s no use.

I sit in my office, with a cup of hot coffee on my desk, staring at my computer screen. How come the computer at my home seems so much more pleasurable?

I sit in my office, waiting for the first patient of the day to arrive, checking whether I’ve got everything I need. Yes, it’s still all there.

I sit in my office, looking out the window, and I wonder what the rain would feel like on my face. Pleasurably annoying, I’m sure.

I sit in my office, just like I did yesterday, and I know tomorrow will be the same. And next week, and the one after that.

I sit in my office, my patient arriving, and he starts telling me about his addiction. I listen, take note, remember.

I sit in my office, the patient having left, working on my report on his case. The rain continues to pour.

I love my work.

Monday, 1 January 2007

New Year

Happy 2007.

May this year be at least as good as the last.

May all your wishes come true.

May you live every dream you've ever had, except for the bad ones.

May you live long and prosper.

May you be happy and content.

May you be healthy and wealthy.

May you see many more new years.

And, of course, may you enjoy this blog for many more years!