...but where will it end?

And though the world was sick unto death, the mighty Steam behemoth churned onward. An automaton loosed upon an unheeding world, it had the misfortune to outlive its purpose. Created to bring entertainment, it now ground fine the hopes for joy and mirth of its victims. Ever onward, ever higher, (airships more fantastical by the day), its pace only increasing as it went, consuming whole bookstore shelves in its path.

Surely, its creators did not know that which they wrought when first goggles and matchless cogs were brought together upon the page.

for none of these reasons...

Because I need to reflect the blackness in my very soul
Because life is bleak, and dark
Because my tribe demands it
Because I am Goth
Because I am colourblind
Because on the day I was born, a curse was laid upon me, that over time all clothes I own would slowly lose their colour, becoming darker and darker...
Because, well, you ever hear that camp song "black socks they never get dirty, the longer you wear them..."? I thought "why not my whole wardrobe?"
Because it has been imparted to me, by angels on high, that whenever I wear bright colours, domokun kills a kitten.
Because I am a Gaiman Fanboy of the first degre.
Because I have a death wish, and am secretly trying to get hit by cars when I bike at night.
Because I have a death wish, and am secretly trying to get hit by cars when I walk at night.
Because all the happy sunshine filled stores run by unicorn riding pixies refuse to sell to me. Bastards.
Because my cult demands it
Because I like hiding in shadows.
Because then the shadows don't notice I'm not one of them.
Because I am one with the shadows.
Because I am secretly a ninja.
Because it is my secret gang colours.
Because I am hiding my identity as the Dread Pirate Roberts.
Because I will deny the spectrum conspiracy another victim
Because then I know when to replace my clothes - when they start to turn blue, purple, etc.
Because it is the colour of choice for badasses, obviously.
Because I am lazy.

....ok. Well. Maybe that last one.
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The Last of the 6000

All the supplies, alcohol, food, drugs, lust and passion, were being consumed in a last manic burst, as the remaining tents and scattered fires of the Hardcore were lit by the red glare of fireworks launched over Pope's hill. When the night was at it's peak, a thick fog crested the peak of the Hill and then fell suddenly and silently upon the mad, howling remnants of a campground, swallowing it whole.

Making Light Poetry-off

some original, some merely re-worked spoofs of famous works, Making Light poetry posts are often awe inspiring and always entertaining.

Here's the most recent, and one of the better I've seen:

I especially adore post #46 by a John Mark Ockerbloom, a take off of a poet I had not heard of until now. My ignorance has been corrected.

The app of my enemy has been rejected
And I am pleased.
Its remains are strewn like a failed startup's
When cash runs out.
What avail him now his tweets and blogposts,
The praise expended on his immersive design,
His web 3.0 style?
Knocked into the middle of last week
His brainchild now consorts with the malware,
The dregs fit but for jailbroken bricks,
The orphans of duplicate functionality,
That no reality distortion field supports,
The objectionable content.

I'm also rather amused by the Beat post at #58 by Earl Cooley III

My dad, upon being shown TV tropes:

"I guess that's why it's called the "net". It can tangle one in snares set on the
"rabbit trails" of cyberspace. It can push an amazing amount of referential bits
of trivial data into our cranial crinkles. One wonders when the limit of our
brain's storage and processing capacity will be exceeded.

To compensate, we're all learning to wander around with our head in the "cloud".
Will the possibility of augmented memory cause us to deliberately slough off/put
aside/skip minor data bits knowing we can access instantly when they (if
ever)become necessary in our lives?

I do not mention often enough how awesome I think my dad can be.

The Power of Language

that's something I used to know intuitively, back when I was young and still got to expand my vocabulary exponentially every week. Not so much now, so I have to remind myself of the power language has with little anecdotes like this one:

"El Morro has its own Dutch. Dutch, the project lingo, is never just a shorthand. It expresses things that, eventually, cannot be fully expressed in regular English. It ends up having its own grammar, and members of the team end up having to become fluent speakers of it."

via Warren Ellis


Check this out: Interview Project
I've only seen about 5 out of the 65 up so far, but I'll slowly catch most of them, I think. It is basically a series of interviews conducted by some folks on a "road trip" with fancy filming equipment - they interview whoever they want to, wherever they found them. It's random, and very interesting.