The Microsoft gods haven't stopped kicking me in the nuts since I bought my iPhone last week, from the moment I tore the plastic off the box.
Horrified that my hands left smudge trails on the screen, I started to search through the box for the cleaning cloth that was supposed to come with it, only to find it wasn't there, before discovering my USB ports were all full, so I had to spent 5 minutes risking electrocution trying to free up one so I could get it registered and fully activated.
Then I lost my wireless password, prompting another hour or so of trial and error before I finally gave up and called Singtel, with the school's own wireless networks showing me very little love as well, refusing to be in range unless I was standing in the library. And then I couldn't even play Mousehunt with it due to some issues with Safari, causing it to show only a blank screen when I tried to access it during school.
So until Friday I was left with an iPhone that did nothing but ring at inopportune moments when I was trying to get a connection in the library, and cheat at poker. Seriously, it cheats. It pulled out a four of a kind after I bet everything on a full house (At the time of writing, it just deleted my progress in Governor of Poker)
On the bright side, school's turning out to be pretty okay. No more PW, so I end earlier, and coincidentally on the days I don't have training, I haven't fallen behind, done all my homework (ie subjects I care about), while still finding time to play MW2.
Wait, actually, no. Half my good teachers got swapped for terrible ones, and some weird infection is going around the team, which causes odd lumps to start forming on you before they burst on impact and sting like a bitch when exposed to dirt. The new J1's just came in, so the canteen is crowded (more so than usual).
Then again, they haven't realized the library is a good place to crash, so my sanctuary is safe for now.
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Thursday, 31 December 2009
For One More Day
------
Micro : Clear!
*Bzzt*
Micro : Clear!
*Bzzt*
------
Okay, just resurrected my blog. And the title has nothing to do with the fact that it's the last day of 2009.
Two more days actually, since we all stayed over at Sam's place when he got back from Australia.
The usual merry band was supposed to arrive, but I came early, so only Sam Wang had turned up.
Most of us were pretty rusty, having not held a controller in...almost a year in some cases. (Sam forgot how to reload in Gears)
Me and Sam started off trying to finish Overwatch on Veteran level, where one of us rides an A130 while covering the other guy on the ground while he makes his escape.
But we eventually gave up after 20 or so tries, mostly due to our poor coordination as well as the fact that neither of us could resist making the guy on the ground dance with the A130's 40mm grenade launchers.
It all went downhill after that though.
We all trooped to dinner defeated men. Bryant and Sam failed to get anything out of 3 hours playing Spec Ops, Moses and I couldn't find anything we could play together and not get owned at, and Mark was looking for cover after forgetting to bring Bryant's Mirror's Edge, a year after he borrowed it.
Because Mark arrived we had enough people to play Halo 3, which I've gottten pretty good at for no apparent reason, though when we reached Valhalla it all degenerated into Moses trying to run people over with the vehicles and me waiting in the skies with a Banshee and challenging him to a dogfight.
By 1 in the morning however, we hit the same problem we had in the afternoon. We had given up playing Horde mode, Rainbow Six was being uncooperative by not letting us play co-op, while Chris and Moses had to go home because they couldn't stay over. We eventually did something we had sworn we would, but never did during similar sleepovers.
We watched the Futurama movies Sam Wang had been bringing for the last 2 years.
Futurama...I wonder why I never started watching it in the first place, though the movie's liberal use of time travel made the whole story pretty confusing.
I played Dead Space until 5 in the morning when I realized everyone had fallen asleep.
Meaning I was alone, and unlike Isaac, did not posses a plasma cutter, a RiG or hobnailed boots for stepping on necromorphs. Keeping a close watch on any vents in the room I quickly turned off the 360 before hiding under my blanket. With the two cans of Spam I brought but never got a chance to open.
Micro : Clear!
*Bzzt*
Micro : Clear!
*Bzzt*
------
Okay, just resurrected my blog. And the title has nothing to do with the fact that it's the last day of 2009.
Two more days actually, since we all stayed over at Sam's place when he got back from Australia.
The usual merry band was supposed to arrive, but I came early, so only Sam Wang had turned up.
Most of us were pretty rusty, having not held a controller in...almost a year in some cases. (Sam forgot how to reload in Gears)
Me and Sam started off trying to finish Overwatch on Veteran level, where one of us rides an A130 while covering the other guy on the ground while he makes his escape.
But we eventually gave up after 20 or so tries, mostly due to our poor coordination as well as the fact that neither of us could resist making the guy on the ground dance with the A130's 40mm grenade launchers.
It all went downhill after that though.
We all trooped to dinner defeated men. Bryant and Sam failed to get anything out of 3 hours playing Spec Ops, Moses and I couldn't find anything we could play together and not get owned at, and Mark was looking for cover after forgetting to bring Bryant's Mirror's Edge, a year after he borrowed it.
Because Mark arrived we had enough people to play Halo 3, which I've gottten pretty good at for no apparent reason, though when we reached Valhalla it all degenerated into Moses trying to run people over with the vehicles and me waiting in the skies with a Banshee and challenging him to a dogfight.
By 1 in the morning however, we hit the same problem we had in the afternoon. We had given up playing Horde mode, Rainbow Six was being uncooperative by not letting us play co-op, while Chris and Moses had to go home because they couldn't stay over. We eventually did something we had sworn we would, but never did during similar sleepovers.
We watched the Futurama movies Sam Wang had been bringing for the last 2 years.
Futurama...I wonder why I never started watching it in the first place, though the movie's liberal use of time travel made the whole story pretty confusing.
I played Dead Space until 5 in the morning when I realized everyone had fallen asleep.
Meaning I was alone, and unlike Isaac, did not posses a plasma cutter, a RiG or hobnailed boots for stepping on necromorphs. Keeping a close watch on any vents in the room I quickly turned off the 360 before hiding under my blanket. With the two cans of Spam I brought but never got a chance to open.
Saturday, 28 November 2009
Mixed Signals
-----
Things to do this holiday
-----
Do my homework, for subjects I consider important anyway (Status : As if)
Get all the Live achievements for RE5 (Status : I HATE Professional mode)
Start my Apothecary fanfic (Status : Well...I decided on his name?)
Revive the Perion series (Status : ERROR-No Necronomicon)
Contact Sam and find out when he's coming back (Status : Bro, have you been trying to call me?)
Become an OGL (Status : I traumatized one of my interviewers for life. What do you think?)
-----
With Project Work over, possibly well done, there was only one thing left. OGL interview. You may have recalled that I hated Orientation, so why would I sign up? Change the system from inside, duh.
Yep, I strolled into the interview room with high on coffee, 3 hours of sleep and adrenaline from sneaking into the hall when it was locked. I went with (After what Zongren told me) the balls-out approach to the OGL interview.
I went in as the Cheng Heng who most commonly appears at during Sam's sleepovers at 3 in the morning. The Cheng Heng that the Cracked.com editorial staff would welcome as a long lost brother. It was an all-or-nothing. The Council would either put me at the top of those shortlisted for OGL, or start calling the police.
I heard no sirens in the distance during the interview, but I'm pretty sure they had a silent alarm under the table.
It was going well at first. They asked me about what I wrote on my application form, as well as what a cacophony was. They liked what they saw on it apparently.
-----
Micro : What my greatest skill will be as an OGL? See, like I wrote on my form, I can see the quiet, silent people. People who go unnoticed. There's bound to be a Hinata Hyuuga or a Nigel No Friends in every group. And I can see them very well, because I was one of them. Still am sometimes. I didn't write that because I overshot the word limit already.
-----
Thine moment of eloquence. Then came thine moment of retard.
Then I shot myself in the foot when said I didn't get along with girls well. Can you blame me?
Crush 1 was a tomboy, and now that I think back, possibly a dyke.
Crush 2 was a girl who liked reading and watching yaoi, and swore celibacy at 14 (I had nothing to do with it. I think)
Crush 3 was a probably the bset looking girl in UWC (And a local to boot), but...wait, you all know how this one ends don't you?
----
Councillor : You know, your OG will definitely have girls, what are you going to do about it?
Micro : Erm...play it by ear I guess, like I have been so far. I mean, it's working isn't it? I haven't had any sexual harassment lawsuits brought against me haven't I?
-----
I will have one soon enough after they asked for a pickup line. A higher up in the Council was definitely smoking something when they thought up that section of the interview.
-----
Coucillor 1 : Think of a pickup line for her (Points at Councillor 2)
Micro : Mi scusi, but what rating are we looking at? M18? NC16? PG13? PG? Or family friendly?
Councillor 1 : R21, hit us with your best.
Micro : Say, you've got 306 bones in your body right?
Councillor 2 : Wasn't it 206?
Micro : I'm a PCME student, don't judge me!
Councillor 2 : Heh, so am I. Anyway, yeah, I've got 206 bones in me.
Micro : Want one more?
------
Zongren said he could hear all 6 of them laughing from outside the classroom. He was telling everyone at training later that I definitely in after that. Of course, he hasn't read the comments from their interview.
They said it was original, but the girl certainly looked shell-shocked. And if I hadn't succeeded in portraying myself as a self-centered, misogynistic amalgam of contradictory traits, I might actually make it.
On to the Count of Monte Cristo then
Due to my organization and coordination skills being close to level one, I confirmed with Tim we'd be going to watch the Count of Monte Cristo on Thursday about....thirty minutes before the show started?
Good thing he lives nearby, otherwise I'd have to spend the entirety of the thing stuck next to a guy created from Shen Shin's DNA (Or vice versa) because Jeannel and Shawn wanted alone time. Instead of stalking Bryant, Sam and myself, he stalks Jeannel and Shawn, instead of obsessing with Space Marines, he obsesses with... Jeannel and Shawn it appears (Tim too...), but the same need to constantly 1-up everyone around him and that low, monotone drone which makes it's entry whenever it's most unexpected and least welcome makes me feel secure putting money on the fact that they were related.
Indi turned up apparently, and I even thought I spotted him, but I couldn't be sure it was him. Turns out it was...
ACSian theatre's Count of Monte Cristo was pretty good this time, without masses leaving at the interval like the Odyssey. Of course, Song and Kun were complaining the words and analogies they used half the time were too chim, but meh, that's ACSian theatre for you.
It took some artistic license and didn't follow the original story to the letter, Danglars and Dante do not die in the original.
The former is starved and humiliated before repenting and being released by the Count, instead of killing himself after losing on the stock market, as Andrew Ong hilariously portrayed. The rest of the bits, not the shooting (though everyone laughed at that anyway because he's so damn funny).
Dante goes off once his revenge is exacted, and presumably goes off to live out the rest of his life in quiet, jewel encrusted opulence while boning his hot Arab slave girl/mistress/prospective wife the whole time. He does not do a partial striptease before leaping to his death in a river in a spectacular finale. Though the all white storm coat did set off a few gaydars, so I guess we can forgive Bryant for throwing it off.
By the way Bryant, Wilson asked you to lay off the steroids. At least that scene allowed me to find out that the stage can lower itself. And there's a door when it's lowered. I didn't even discover that when I snuck into the place myself...
Overall, CMC was pretty good. If it can make me forget that I've spent three hours watching it, it's good.
And they had the good sense to make a wardrobe change, compared to what they were wearing in the posters. It was so weird, me and Damien have decided to make a life-sized copy of it and give it to Bryant on his birthday.
It had a large, puffy bowtie. 'Nuff said.
Sigh, all the melancholy after I watch ACSian theater performance, good as they are. I always wonder why the heck I chose to stick with a rugby team where I'd be lucky to be a regular sub, let alone start. I sometimes wonder if things would be better if I signed up with the drama people.... Too late now to change...
All the things that never happened, and never will be...
Sad blogpost is sad... 8 (
Things to do this holiday
-----
Do my homework, for subjects I consider important anyway (Status : As if)
Get all the Live achievements for RE5 (Status : I HATE Professional mode)
Start my Apothecary fanfic (Status : Well...I decided on his name?)
Revive the Perion series (Status : ERROR-No Necronomicon)
Contact Sam and find out when he's coming back (Status : Bro, have you been trying to call me?)
Become an OGL (Status : I traumatized one of my interviewers for life. What do you think?)
-----
With Project Work over, possibly well done, there was only one thing left. OGL interview. You may have recalled that I hated Orientation, so why would I sign up? Change the system from inside, duh.
Yep, I strolled into the interview room with high on coffee, 3 hours of sleep and adrenaline from sneaking into the hall when it was locked. I went with (After what Zongren told me) the balls-out approach to the OGL interview.
I went in as the Cheng Heng who most commonly appears at during Sam's sleepovers at 3 in the morning. The Cheng Heng that the Cracked.com editorial staff would welcome as a long lost brother. It was an all-or-nothing. The Council would either put me at the top of those shortlisted for OGL, or start calling the police.
I heard no sirens in the distance during the interview, but I'm pretty sure they had a silent alarm under the table.
It was going well at first. They asked me about what I wrote on my application form, as well as what a cacophony was. They liked what they saw on it apparently.
-----
Micro : What my greatest skill will be as an OGL? See, like I wrote on my form, I can see the quiet, silent people. People who go unnoticed. There's bound to be a Hinata Hyuuga or a Nigel No Friends in every group. And I can see them very well, because I was one of them. Still am sometimes. I didn't write that because I overshot the word limit already.
-----
Thine moment of eloquence. Then came thine moment of retard.
Then I shot myself in the foot when said I didn't get along with girls well. Can you blame me?
Crush 1 was a tomboy, and now that I think back, possibly a dyke.
Crush 2 was a girl who liked reading and watching yaoi, and swore celibacy at 14 (I had nothing to do with it. I think)
Crush 3 was a probably the bset looking girl in UWC (And a local to boot), but...wait, you all know how this one ends don't you?
----
Councillor : You know, your OG will definitely have girls, what are you going to do about it?
Micro : Erm...play it by ear I guess, like I have been so far. I mean, it's working isn't it? I haven't had any sexual harassment lawsuits brought against me haven't I?
-----
I will have one soon enough after they asked for a pickup line. A higher up in the Council was definitely smoking something when they thought up that section of the interview.
-----
Coucillor 1 : Think of a pickup line for her (Points at Councillor 2)
Micro : Mi scusi, but what rating are we looking at? M18? NC16? PG13? PG? Or family friendly?
Councillor 1 : R21, hit us with your best.
Micro : Say, you've got 306 bones in your body right?
Councillor 2 : Wasn't it 206?
Micro : I'm a PCME student, don't judge me!
Councillor 2 : Heh, so am I. Anyway, yeah, I've got 206 bones in me.
Micro : Want one more?
------
Zongren said he could hear all 6 of them laughing from outside the classroom. He was telling everyone at training later that I definitely in after that. Of course, he hasn't read the comments from their interview.
They said it was original, but the girl certainly looked shell-shocked. And if I hadn't succeeded in portraying myself as a self-centered, misogynistic amalgam of contradictory traits, I might actually make it.
On to the Count of Monte Cristo then
Due to my organization and coordination skills being close to level one, I confirmed with Tim we'd be going to watch the Count of Monte Cristo on Thursday about....thirty minutes before the show started?
Good thing he lives nearby, otherwise I'd have to spend the entirety of the thing stuck next to a guy created from Shen Shin's DNA (Or vice versa) because Jeannel and Shawn wanted alone time. Instead of stalking Bryant, Sam and myself, he stalks Jeannel and Shawn, instead of obsessing with Space Marines, he obsesses with... Jeannel and Shawn it appears (Tim too...), but the same need to constantly 1-up everyone around him and that low, monotone drone which makes it's entry whenever it's most unexpected and least welcome makes me feel secure putting money on the fact that they were related.
Indi turned up apparently, and I even thought I spotted him, but I couldn't be sure it was him. Turns out it was...
ACSian theatre's Count of Monte Cristo was pretty good this time, without masses leaving at the interval like the Odyssey. Of course, Song and Kun were complaining the words and analogies they used half the time were too chim, but meh, that's ACSian theatre for you.
It took some artistic license and didn't follow the original story to the letter, Danglars and Dante do not die in the original.
The former is starved and humiliated before repenting and being released by the Count, instead of killing himself after losing on the stock market, as Andrew Ong hilariously portrayed. The rest of the bits, not the shooting (though everyone laughed at that anyway because he's so damn funny).
Dante goes off once his revenge is exacted, and presumably goes off to live out the rest of his life in quiet, jewel encrusted opulence while boning his hot Arab slave girl/mistress/prospective wife the whole time. He does not do a partial striptease before leaping to his death in a river in a spectacular finale. Though the all white storm coat did set off a few gaydars, so I guess we can forgive Bryant for throwing it off.
By the way Bryant, Wilson asked you to lay off the steroids. At least that scene allowed me to find out that the stage can lower itself. And there's a door when it's lowered. I didn't even discover that when I snuck into the place myself...
Overall, CMC was pretty good. If it can make me forget that I've spent three hours watching it, it's good.
And they had the good sense to make a wardrobe change, compared to what they were wearing in the posters. It was so weird, me and Damien have decided to make a life-sized copy of it and give it to Bryant on his birthday.
It had a large, puffy bowtie. 'Nuff said.
Sigh, all the melancholy after I watch ACSian theater performance, good as they are. I always wonder why the heck I chose to stick with a rugby team where I'd be lucky to be a regular sub, let alone start. I sometimes wonder if things would be better if I signed up with the drama people.... Too late now to change...
All the things that never happened, and never will be...
Sad blogpost is sad... 8 (
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
Just That Bit Closer to Sam Fischer
Instead of falling asleep at the SJI table, I decided to look for more comfortable and quiet lodgings, so I broke into LT1, since the air-con was on there while it was pitch dark.
Wondering where I could buy a pair (trio?) of green-lit goggles to go with my l337 n1nj4 skillz as I lay down in the space below the lecture seats, I drifted off to sleep in the chill air...
Only to be awoken by a "testing, testing" from the speaker system 20 minutes later. Apparently a technician turned up early to test the microphones. Patting myself on the head for having the foresight to stash all my stuff below the chairs as well while picking a row all the way at the back, I lay frozen below the seats until he left before I promptly blew the joint.
The adrenaline rush cancelled the need for any more sleep. Next time, LT4!
Spent most of the day chilling with Shawn and Jeannel in one of computer labs until the final results were released for the whole year. I had a straight flush for my Promotional grades, till moderation came and bumped everything up. So I'm looking at ABCCEE. Not that I'm complaining. Hmm...what can I spell with that?
ABECCE?
CABECE?
Ah screw it, I give up.
The Council found my OGL application form a real hoot apparently, according to Zongren.
Oh yeah, that's right, I applied. Did I ever mention that?
It was a spur of the moment thing, the sort of thing I do when I'm not entirely lucid, but at least this time it didn't result in me clinging onto a rope for dear life 4000 feet above sea level.
A snap decision it was... Chris Khew waiting for me to make up my mind whether to take a form, Kim (and her umbrella, it was raining) impatiently waiting for me to make up my mind...
What disturbs me though, is the fact that the form says "Do not be discouraged by the dedication needed...yada yada yada." It's worrying. When something like that turns up in the official blurbs, well, yeah.
It's like writing "Don't give bungee jumping with nothing but some dubiously withered looking vines just because you might plunge to your most horrible and gruesome death as you are impaled on the jagged rocks below. Like the last fifteen suckers before you."
Wondering where I could buy a pair (trio?) of green-lit goggles to go with my l337 n1nj4 skillz as I lay down in the space below the lecture seats, I drifted off to sleep in the chill air...
Only to be awoken by a "testing, testing" from the speaker system 20 minutes later. Apparently a technician turned up early to test the microphones. Patting myself on the head for having the foresight to stash all my stuff below the chairs as well while picking a row all the way at the back, I lay frozen below the seats until he left before I promptly blew the joint.
The adrenaline rush cancelled the need for any more sleep. Next time, LT4!
Spent most of the day chilling with Shawn and Jeannel in one of computer labs until the final results were released for the whole year. I had a straight flush for my Promotional grades, till moderation came and bumped everything up. So I'm looking at ABCCEE. Not that I'm complaining. Hmm...what can I spell with that?
ABECCE?
CABECE?
Ah screw it, I give up.
The Council found my OGL application form a real hoot apparently, according to Zongren.
Oh yeah, that's right, I applied. Did I ever mention that?
It was a spur of the moment thing, the sort of thing I do when I'm not entirely lucid, but at least this time it didn't result in me clinging onto a rope for dear life 4000 feet above sea level.
A snap decision it was... Chris Khew waiting for me to make up my mind whether to take a form, Kim (and her umbrella, it was raining) impatiently waiting for me to make up my mind...
What disturbs me though, is the fact that the form says "Do not be discouraged by the dedication needed...yada yada yada." It's worrying. When something like that turns up in the official blurbs, well, yeah.
It's like writing "Don't give bungee jumping with nothing but some dubiously withered looking vines just because you might plunge to your most horrible and gruesome death as you are impaled on the jagged rocks below. Like the last fifteen suckers before you."
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
The Bachelor's Life
----
Micro : Dude, Yahtzee is right, Sheva is not African! Listen to that, that's a British accent, right there!
Bryant : No way!
Micro : She sounds just like Mrs Creffield!
Bryant : Sssh! Don't ruin the fantasy!
Micro : Of what? Sheva or Mrs Creffield?
Bryant : What do you think?
Micro : Mrs Creffield it is then
------
Surreal is staggering back to an empty house through the dimly lit streets, bumping into bushes at 5 in the morning after playing Resident Evil 5 with Bryant. And training for 4 hours with the ACSI old boys before that.
Been living the life of a bachelor for the last few days, since my parents and sister are in Vietnam. No limits, a suitable stash of cash, and all the time in the world for weekends. Awesome, is it not, that I beat Majini up with my friends until we both pass out and drop the controllers, thereby activating his OCD and hence our collective common sense?
No, Sir Cliff Richards, you should NOT stay a bachelor boy until your dying day, no matter what your daddy says. Zongren, if you ever read this, listen to Song! Find a nice girl and settle down, because I'd rather be running diamonds than having to do my own laundry or scour my own food...
Which coincidentally, leads to the worst sort of laundry to do (Running diamonds, not finding food, unless it's a really hot day). Not that I'm incapable of doing the said tasks, I'm capable of a lot of things, but really, getting home at 10, proceeding to wash clothes from running diamonds and waiting till 11 to hang them up, then trying to get up before 6 is not possible for this bachelor...
And I've got to babysit my brother. Well, not really, since he's content with watching Naturo from 3 to 10, so it's more like looking after a plant, just keep it watered.
Micro : Dude, Yahtzee is right, Sheva is not African! Listen to that, that's a British accent, right there!
Bryant : No way!
Micro : She sounds just like Mrs Creffield!
Bryant : Sssh! Don't ruin the fantasy!
Micro : Of what? Sheva or Mrs Creffield?
Bryant : What do you think?
Micro : Mrs Creffield it is then
------
Surreal is staggering back to an empty house through the dimly lit streets, bumping into bushes at 5 in the morning after playing Resident Evil 5 with Bryant. And training for 4 hours with the ACSI old boys before that.
Been living the life of a bachelor for the last few days, since my parents and sister are in Vietnam. No limits, a suitable stash of cash, and all the time in the world for weekends. Awesome, is it not, that I beat Majini up with my friends until we both pass out and drop the controllers, thereby activating his OCD and hence our collective common sense?
No, Sir Cliff Richards, you should NOT stay a bachelor boy until your dying day, no matter what your daddy says. Zongren, if you ever read this, listen to Song! Find a nice girl and settle down, because I'd rather be running diamonds than having to do my own laundry or scour my own food...
Which coincidentally, leads to the worst sort of laundry to do (Running diamonds, not finding food, unless it's a really hot day). Not that I'm incapable of doing the said tasks, I'm capable of a lot of things, but really, getting home at 10, proceeding to wash clothes from running diamonds and waiting till 11 to hang them up, then trying to get up before 6 is not possible for this bachelor...
And I've got to babysit my brother. Well, not really, since he's content with watching Naturo from 3 to 10, so it's more like looking after a plant, just keep it watered.
Saturday, 3 October 2009
Zen...And Comforting
*Begin deep, meaningful and insightful section here*
"There is no mystery to happiness.
"Unhappy men are all alike. Some wound they suffered long ago, some wish denied, some blow to pride, some kindling spark of love put out by scorn -- or worse, indifference -- cleaves to them, or they to it, and so they live each day within a shroud of yesterdays. The happy man does not look back. He doesn't look ahead. He lives in the present.
"But there's the rub. The present can never deliver one thing: meaning. The ways of happiness and meaning are not the same. To find happiness, a man need only live in the moment; he need only live for the moment. But if he wants meaning -- the meaning of his dreams, his secrets, his life -- a man must reinhabit the past, however dark, and live for the future, however uncertain. Thus nature dangles happiness and meaning before us all, insisting only that we choose between them."
-- Jed Rubenfeld, 'The Interpretation of Murder'
Much thanks to Bryant for having introduced me to that quote. It's stuck with me since the day he posted it.
Reverting back to the old day cycles I used to have. Study, then TF2. Study, then read TRC manga.
Love this cycle. It's simple, it's calm, it's comforting, and most of all, it's familiar. Two years of living it, two awesome years. The best bit is, I don't have to choose between happiness and meaning because of it.
What I do, I enjoy, and conveniently happens to take care of the future, and since I'm good with the past, well, I've got myself a pretty good deal don't I?
Might be a little late to save your dream of finally getting a chance to see what the hell John Nash was up to in Princeton isn't it?
Well, I lost heavily before the dark ages ended didn't I?
*End deep, meaningful and insightful section here*
Okay, that's over! They should read stuff like that during chapel.
Instead of the usual did to spur us on to
The chaplain ACJC has is kinda like this one.
Why, why, why can we never have a Chaplain/Priest like this one!
I mean, he doesn't even have to be an Interrogator-Chaplain! Just think about it, a Chaplain who gives sermons in full power armour! Reads quotes from the Bible he wears around his waist with a chain! Blesses people using a crozius! Partitions the wafers and wine with a power sword! Come on, this would bring the flock back from those "charismatic" churches! Or at least draw the fa/tg/uys into attending Mass on a regular basis.
Which reminds me, right after the Promos, I'm getting started on my newest fanfiction.
This one will be about an Apothecary who's expelled from his Chapter (Iron Wolves) for losing the gene seed of ten marines because he stopped to rescue a group of Guardsmen from Traitor Marines. Until he performs a great deed of service to the Emperor, he will have to wander as a Lone Wolf across the galaxy. So he joins up with the regiment of the Guardsmen he saved as a medic, looking for the chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the Emperor.
Initially supposed to be a serious one to explore how Space Marine-human relations (Still is), Bryant and I couldn't help but think of all the awkward scenes a Space Marine medic used to healing superhuman warriors would have babysitting normal human soldiers.
----
Bryant : Apothecary! Private Jenkins had a heart attack!
Micro : Bring him to my operating table. Now administering the Rites of CPR.
*Crushes Guardsmen to death due to his superhuman strength*
Micro : Oops...Erm...Emperor watch over your soul brave soldier?
----
----
Micro : Emperor's peace be with you fallen warrior, as I take the Chapter's due.
Bryant : Apothecary, why the hell are you mutilating Forester's body for?
Micro : I am extracting his gene seed, so that his legacy may live through another.
Bryant : Oi! We're not Marines, we don't have gene seed!
Micro : Really? Then what are these two glands that I just extracted from Corporal Forester's midsectio-
Bryant : PUT THEM BACK!!!
----
Well, if you've been doing the same thing for the last 100 years, you tend to get a little too familiar with the routine wouldn't you?
PS : Sam, sorry we couldn't meet up! It's not so easy for us any more... We'll make up for it when you get back in December, I promise!
PPS : Before I forget. You mah hoe! (It's Friday)
"There is no mystery to happiness.
"Unhappy men are all alike. Some wound they suffered long ago, some wish denied, some blow to pride, some kindling spark of love put out by scorn -- or worse, indifference -- cleaves to them, or they to it, and so they live each day within a shroud of yesterdays. The happy man does not look back. He doesn't look ahead. He lives in the present.
"But there's the rub. The present can never deliver one thing: meaning. The ways of happiness and meaning are not the same. To find happiness, a man need only live in the moment; he need only live for the moment. But if he wants meaning -- the meaning of his dreams, his secrets, his life -- a man must reinhabit the past, however dark, and live for the future, however uncertain. Thus nature dangles happiness and meaning before us all, insisting only that we choose between them."
-- Jed Rubenfeld, 'The Interpretation of Murder'
Much thanks to Bryant for having introduced me to that quote. It's stuck with me since the day he posted it.
Reverting back to the old day cycles I used to have. Study, then TF2. Study, then read TRC manga.
Love this cycle. It's simple, it's calm, it's comforting, and most of all, it's familiar. Two years of living it, two awesome years. The best bit is, I don't have to choose between happiness and meaning because of it.
What I do, I enjoy, and conveniently happens to take care of the future, and since I'm good with the past, well, I've got myself a pretty good deal don't I?
Might be a little late to save your dream of finally getting a chance to see what the hell John Nash was up to in Princeton isn't it?
Well, I lost heavily before the dark ages ended didn't I?
*End deep, meaningful and insightful section here*
Okay, that's over! They should read stuff like that during chapel.
Instead of the usual
The chaplain ACJC has is kinda like this one.
Why, why, why can we never have a Chaplain/Priest like this one!
I mean, he doesn't even have to be an Interrogator-Chaplain! Just think about it, a Chaplain who gives sermons in full power armour! Reads quotes from the Bible he wears around his waist with a chain! Blesses people using a crozius! Partitions the wafers and wine with a power sword! Come on, this would bring the flock back from those "charismatic" churches! Or at least draw the fa/tg/uys into attending Mass on a regular basis.
Which reminds me, right after the Promos, I'm getting started on my newest fanfiction.
This one will be about an Apothecary who's expelled from his Chapter (Iron Wolves) for losing the gene seed of ten marines because he stopped to rescue a group of Guardsmen from Traitor Marines. Until he performs a great deed of service to the Emperor, he will have to wander as a Lone Wolf across the galaxy. So he joins up with the regiment of the Guardsmen he saved as a medic, looking for the chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the Emperor.
Initially supposed to be a serious one to explore how Space Marine-human relations (Still is), Bryant and I couldn't help but think of all the awkward scenes a Space Marine medic used to healing superhuman warriors would have babysitting normal human soldiers.
----
Bryant : Apothecary! Private Jenkins had a heart attack!
Micro : Bring him to my operating table. Now administering the Rites of CPR.
*Crushes Guardsmen to death due to his superhuman strength*
Micro : Oops...Erm...Emperor watch over your soul brave soldier?
----
----
Micro : Emperor's peace be with you fallen warrior, as I take the Chapter's due.
Bryant : Apothecary, why the hell are you mutilating Forester's body for?
Micro : I am extracting his gene seed, so that his legacy may live through another.
Bryant : Oi! We're not Marines, we don't have gene seed!
Micro : Really? Then what are these two glands that I just extracted from Corporal Forester's midsectio-
Bryant : PUT THEM BACK!!!
----
Well, if you've been doing the same thing for the last 100 years, you tend to get a little too familiar with the routine wouldn't you?
PS : Sam, sorry we couldn't meet up! It's not so easy for us any more... We'll make up for it when you get back in December, I promise!
PPS : Before I forget. You mah hoe! (It's Friday)
Monday, 14 September 2009
Lock And Load
Had an awesome day once again in the CWC. Only for it to be ruined tonight by them.
Jezebels and vagabonds. And while neither really applies to what they did tonight, it fits the way they go about anyway
In the act of forcing a burden on me, they have relieved me of another. Now, hatred is acceptable. Conflict can be justified. Confrontation is reasonable.
Not once, but twice this has happened now. I longed for a truce or equilibrium of some sort. No more, but I still weary of this stalemate. I've done enough giving. Time for some taking.
So awaken the Eversors and unchain Khorne's servants, for he thirsts this day.
And we shall gladly slake it.
Jezebels and vagabonds. And while neither really applies to what they did tonight, it fits the way they go about anyway
In the act of forcing a burden on me, they have relieved me of another. Now, hatred is acceptable. Conflict can be justified. Confrontation is reasonable.
Not once, but twice this has happened now. I longed for a truce or equilibrium of some sort. No more, but I still weary of this stalemate. I've done enough giving. Time for some taking.
So awaken the Eversors and unchain Khorne's servants, for he thirsts this day.
And we shall gladly slake it.
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