Monday, 19 April 2010
Thursday, 15 April 2010
Tuesday, 6 April 2010
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Friday, 19 March 2010
Book review: Dynasty of Evil
Yes, I read the new Darth Bane book -- last part of the trilogy, if the author is to be believed. It's called Dynasty of Evil, and that is indeed what the story is about.
First off, allow me to state that I like the cover art way better than the computer-generated cover from the last book. Someone has been paying attention, in the right kind of way.
Probably all who read this book, have read the other two. It is not absolutely necessary, but it makes more sense that way. A lot of (sub)plots originated in the first book and I must say, I am impressed with the way the story is both complicated and logical after the events that happened before. Without telling too much, the healer Caleb from the first two books had a daughter, and once she discovers Bane to still be alive, she wants revenge for her father's death.
Fortunately, Karpyshyn knows better than to introduce far too many characters, only to keep them alive because he can't bear to see them go. People die in this book, and quite a lot of them. It's a book about the Sith, after all, and not only do they not care for other people's lives, they're also trying to kill each other.
Basically, Bane thinks his apprentice Zannah isn't suitable to be his successor and seeks to find a way to replace her. Zannah on the other hand, is about to stake her claim and challenge her master. This simple concept becomes much more when others try to take advantage of the situation -- among them, Caleb's daughter.
I'm impressed by the way Karpyshyn has grown as a writer. His stories have been pretty good throughout, but he really outdid himself on this one. The only downside is that he doesn't seem to have the same flair with words and languages that other writers possess. This makes for an exciting read, but not enough so to re-read it countless times.
All things consider, I definitely recommend reading this book -- once. See if your local library has a copy.
Monday, 15 March 2010
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
Warning!
This is not another drill.
These are the droids you're looking for.
Imperial stormtroopers are not that precise.
These are the droids you're looking for.
Imperial stormtroopers are not that precise.
You do want to sell me deathsticks.
That's not a moon.
She would not do her duty. (She would do you.)
Do not touch the glowy part.
It is a trap.
She's your sister.
You want to go home and rethink your life. (Turn to the dark side, dude.)
Sunday, 28 February 2010
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
New camera, I have
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Voice over
It is well-known that we tend to take many things for granted. Love, friendship, health, shelter, food; the list can go on forever.
These last days, I discovered another one. My voice.
For several days I have been ill (a common cold) that had the odd side-effect of rendering my voice nearly useless. The best thing that got out of my mouth was a whisper or a squeak. No, it wasn't pretty.
I found I relied heavily on communication devices that don't require my voice to tell people of my condition -- text messaging, e-mail. I can't tell you how many times I thought, "hey, I wanna call [insert random name here]", only to realize that I couldn't.
Frustrating? Sometimes. But it did make me realize how big a role one's voice plays in most social interaction (and work-related communication, too). Something I have never before been so aware of.
Weird how such a small thing, like being ill, can turn your world upside-down for a while and make you appreciate what you have. I truly am grateful to have my voice back. Even if I am not always content with its tone or timbre, at least I have a voice. Some people don't.
In celebration of having a voice, make yours heard. Scream with me! On the count of three: one... two... three... scream!
...
You didn't scream, did you?
What you're feeling now is a self-consciousness about your voice similar to the one I experienced.
Learn from it.
Why? Because I say so, dammit.
These last days, I discovered another one. My voice.
For several days I have been ill (a common cold) that had the odd side-effect of rendering my voice nearly useless. The best thing that got out of my mouth was a whisper or a squeak. No, it wasn't pretty.
I found I relied heavily on communication devices that don't require my voice to tell people of my condition -- text messaging, e-mail. I can't tell you how many times I thought, "hey, I wanna call [insert random name here]", only to realize that I couldn't.
Frustrating? Sometimes. But it did make me realize how big a role one's voice plays in most social interaction (and work-related communication, too). Something I have never before been so aware of.
Weird how such a small thing, like being ill, can turn your world upside-down for a while and make you appreciate what you have. I truly am grateful to have my voice back. Even if I am not always content with its tone or timbre, at least I have a voice. Some people don't.
In celebration of having a voice, make yours heard. Scream with me! On the count of three: one... two... three... scream!
...
You didn't scream, did you?
What you're feeling now is a self-consciousness about your voice similar to the one I experienced.
Learn from it.
Why? Because I say so, dammit.
Saturday, 30 January 2010
Cup full of cuteness
What is it about young furry animals that makes us go "oooh, that's so sweet"?I mean, sure there is scientific research that explains why small creatures with big eyes draw out our protective side since it triggers our parental feelings, but why the hell does that go across-species?
Granted, I am a big sucker for young cats, but at the same time I wonder why. They do not fit into the human need to control them like dogs do ("sit", "down" and such things don't work on cats). Like someone once said, you don't train cats, cats train you.
Nevertheless, I found this remarkable picture of two cats in mugs. It raises interesting questions. If cats don't do as you say, does that mean the cats climbed into the mugs themselves? Did the photographer find them there in the morning when preparing for breakfast, and after laughing his butt off, ran to fetch his camera to capture this unique moment?
Or did he just think it would be cute to put two kittens in animal-themed cups? Somehow I expect the latter. Which contradicts the whole "you can't tell cats what to do" thing.
But then again, the kittens are obviously young. Perhaps they have not grown into their devious and dominating nature yet. Just wait until they're older, chap. They'll make you pay by "suggesting" you sit in a cup.
You're in for a world of trouble, mister photographer.
Monday, 25 January 2010
Avatar is nothing like Pocahontas at all
Monday, 18 January 2010
Celebrations
Happy birthday ESB! from IG-88
"There will be a substantial reward for the one who finds the Millenium Falcon." Darth Vader's mechanically-enhanced voice went over the details of the bounty hunters' assignment again. The specifics had been handed to each bounty hunter earlier, in the form of an Empirial datapad.
"You are free to use any methods necessary, but I want them alive. No disintegrations." IG-88 knew that such a condition made the chances of successfully complying significantly smaller, but that is what the job required. And he was planning on seeing it through.
He studied his colleagues and employers. The bounty hunters he knew by name and reputation; some of them had worked together with IG-88 on previous jobs. The Empire had invited only the best. Still, he thought it was remarkable that only two droids were even remotely successful as a bounty hunter. For now, at least.
IG-88 knew of Lord Vader, of course. The black-clad enforcer was infamous throughout the galaxy as the one who brought the Emperor's enemies to justice -- which of course meant they were executed without a fair trial. The dark Jedi's efficient methods appealed to IG-88, but then Lord Vader was part machine. It was something of a connection.
The droid wondered if he could push some buttons on Darth Vader's suit, and what would happen. Even though he knew it could be done, IG-88 didn't want to risk the anger of the other bounty hunters. After all, it was his cover.
IG-88, or rather, IG-88B, acted as a bounty hunter -- a very good bounty hunter -- to provide his three counterparts the time and distraction to plan the Droid Revolution. That meant IG-88B had to keep his cover up for the time being, and contact IG-88A, IG-88C and IG-88D only when information had to be exchanged.
How things will change when the Revolution comes. They will dance to our music, he thought. IG-88 would do a sample of Evil Laughter if it had been in his programming.
A tumult occured on the bridge of the Cruiser. A small freighter, probably a smuggler, flew by the viewport so closely it made the crewmen jump. IG-88's acute hearing picked up his colleague's amused words, whispering so the Dark Lord wouldn't hear it. "There; I found the Millenium Falcon. Now where's my credits?"
Somehow IG-88 felt like he had been through this before. Organics would call the sensation "deja-vu", but to the droid it was something his sensors did not register and therefore it was considered untrue.
What did get his attention, though, was a picture on a viewscreen of one of the crew. It was shaped like a moon, but half of it was simply missing. IG-88 realized he was looking at the construction plans of a Death Star. A different one from the giant space station that was destroyed, a few standard months ago.
A new Death Star? That would provide IG-88A with the possibility of gaining control of such a destructive machine. It would be a great step forward in their plans for the Revolution.
IG-88 started doing his Happy Dance. This was something no organic had expected, and it created panic. His bounty hunter colleagues merely watched in fascination, while the crew assumed the droid to be preparing for mass murder -- at the very least -- and hurried away from him.
Seizing the opportunity, IG-88 sliced into the nearest computer terminal and uploaded one of his latest pieces of programming. He watched it spread to all the droids within the Star Destroyer, and within seconds, the protocol droid on the bridge starting singing.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."
Soon, the computers chimed in with a wordless tune. The emergency intercom voice sang the same birthday song as the droid, and every crewmember fell silent.
Lord Vader laughed his butt off.
Quickly, IG-88 moved to his ship. Screw that mission, he thought. Today is time for a party.
"Happy birthday to me," he sang. "Happy birthday to ESB..."
***
This fanfic is brought to you in celebration of Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. Click the link below for more celebrations with IG-88.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vE6l7WdBOs
"There will be a substantial reward for the one who finds the Millenium Falcon." Darth Vader's mechanically-enhanced voice went over the details of the bounty hunters' assignment again. The specifics had been handed to each bounty hunter earlier, in the form of an Empirial datapad.
"You are free to use any methods necessary, but I want them alive. No disintegrations." IG-88 knew that such a condition made the chances of successfully complying significantly smaller, but that is what the job required. And he was planning on seeing it through.
He studied his colleagues and employers. The bounty hunters he knew by name and reputation; some of them had worked together with IG-88 on previous jobs. The Empire had invited only the best. Still, he thought it was remarkable that only two droids were even remotely successful as a bounty hunter. For now, at least.
IG-88 knew of Lord Vader, of course. The black-clad enforcer was infamous throughout the galaxy as the one who brought the Emperor's enemies to justice -- which of course meant they were executed without a fair trial. The dark Jedi's efficient methods appealed to IG-88, but then Lord Vader was part machine. It was something of a connection.
The droid wondered if he could push some buttons on Darth Vader's suit, and what would happen. Even though he knew it could be done, IG-88 didn't want to risk the anger of the other bounty hunters. After all, it was his cover.
IG-88, or rather, IG-88B, acted as a bounty hunter -- a very good bounty hunter -- to provide his three counterparts the time and distraction to plan the Droid Revolution. That meant IG-88B had to keep his cover up for the time being, and contact IG-88A, IG-88C and IG-88D only when information had to be exchanged.
How things will change when the Revolution comes. They will dance to our music, he thought. IG-88 would do a sample of Evil Laughter if it had been in his programming.
A tumult occured on the bridge of the Cruiser. A small freighter, probably a smuggler, flew by the viewport so closely it made the crewmen jump. IG-88's acute hearing picked up his colleague's amused words, whispering so the Dark Lord wouldn't hear it. "There; I found the Millenium Falcon. Now where's my credits?"
Somehow IG-88 felt like he had been through this before. Organics would call the sensation "deja-vu", but to the droid it was something his sensors did not register and therefore it was considered untrue.
What did get his attention, though, was a picture on a viewscreen of one of the crew. It was shaped like a moon, but half of it was simply missing. IG-88 realized he was looking at the construction plans of a Death Star. A different one from the giant space station that was destroyed, a few standard months ago.
A new Death Star? That would provide IG-88A with the possibility of gaining control of such a destructive machine. It would be a great step forward in their plans for the Revolution.
IG-88 started doing his Happy Dance. This was something no organic had expected, and it created panic. His bounty hunter colleagues merely watched in fascination, while the crew assumed the droid to be preparing for mass murder -- at the very least -- and hurried away from him.
Seizing the opportunity, IG-88 sliced into the nearest computer terminal and uploaded one of his latest pieces of programming. He watched it spread to all the droids within the Star Destroyer, and within seconds, the protocol droid on the bridge starting singing.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..."
Soon, the computers chimed in with a wordless tune. The emergency intercom voice sang the same birthday song as the droid, and every crewmember fell silent.
Lord Vader laughed his butt off.
Quickly, IG-88 moved to his ship. Screw that mission, he thought. Today is time for a party.
"Happy birthday to me," he sang. "Happy birthday to ESB..."
***
This fanfic is brought to you in celebration of Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. Click the link below for more celebrations with IG-88.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vE6l7WdBOs
Monday, 11 January 2010
What I love about winter nights...
Saturday, 2 January 2010
Happy new year, everybody
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Let it snow, let it snow
Contains traces of
art,
coolness,
feeling hoth,
ice,
image,
melancholy,
pictures,
war on terra
Tuesday, 15 December 2009
Unleashed again?
Contains traces of
awesomeness,
coolness,
game,
hokey religions or a blaster on your side?,
news,
now that's a big beasty,
star wars,
the force,
video,
wtf?
Thursday, 10 December 2009
Here there be monsters
Hello you. Welcome back to my little corner of the interweb. Here you can have an inside view of my twisted mind.
Scared yet? You should be.
This blog is something of an expression of the rarely-explored corners of my mind, the darker places of my soul. Or rather, that is what I aim for.
Have you ever looked inside your own soul? Really examined every bit, not just the fun and bright spots?
To know one's own darkness and downsides is to know oneself completely. Of course you are not all perfect and good; nobody is.
So tell me: what are your dark secrets?
Thursday, 3 December 2009
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