Meme stolen quite blatantly from Tiel Aisha Ansari, whose blog I really need to read much more.
The prompt was, "My first act as Queen/ King of the World will be..."
Enact all odd-numbered (and every third even-numbered) article in Tiel's list, because she's awesome like that.
Call my guitar heroes and arrange lessons.
Force Justin to get his ass up here so we can jam. If necessary, provide him with a new bass as incentive.
Begin reclamation projects across the Sahara.
Finish what the Levelers started; turn the world upside down and paint it black.
Dissolve my post.
10/31/2007
10/25/2007
It's like cigarettes
My signature deadly sin is wrath, and one of the ways I express it is through my most-indulged guilty pleasure: Christian radio.
In my daily commute, 104.9 FM starts off as a country station at Exit 24. Ten exits down the way, on the outskirts of Springfield, it's morphed into a Christian station broadcast out of Stepford, CT. (Or at least I think it's Stepford, CT. Something with an S. And Stepford would fit right in with this being Lovecraft Country.) Once you get inside Exit 13, 1400 AM (the local liberal talk-radio) turns into fuzz. All this means that, twice every day, while driving between Exit 6 and Exit 14, I tune in.
Not because there's nothing better to listen to. Almost because there are many better things to listen to.
It's like cigarettes. I trip on the fact that it has no appreciably redeeming qualities, and that I'm never getting those moments of my life back.
I listen to the officially-sanctioned mediocre praise choruses that they put on. It's sorta like this, in that it makes me wanna listen to Cannibal Corpse when I get home. The major differences being that the ilahija is Bosnian. And good. And makes me want to listen to Cannibal Corpse for the exact opposite reason.
The ilahija, for whatever reason, is five minutes of serenity, and no calm can shake my inmost storm while to this rock I'm clinging. Seriously; it'd mess up my gyroscopically-balanced psyche, and no good ever comes of that.
Whereas this (because I'm too lazy to look for the original, which is just as ghastly) is the opposite of that: it's one more wind in the hurricane, keening mosquito-like at an annoying frequency.
Fuck that. I have enough of them already without a boring melody with no bassline.
This is Edo, signing off for this post.
In my daily commute, 104.9 FM starts off as a country station at Exit 24. Ten exits down the way, on the outskirts of Springfield, it's morphed into a Christian station broadcast out of Stepford, CT. (Or at least I think it's Stepford, CT. Something with an S. And Stepford would fit right in with this being Lovecraft Country.) Once you get inside Exit 13, 1400 AM (the local liberal talk-radio) turns into fuzz. All this means that, twice every day, while driving between Exit 6 and Exit 14, I tune in.
Not because there's nothing better to listen to. Almost because there are many better things to listen to.
It's like cigarettes. I trip on the fact that it has no appreciably redeeming qualities, and that I'm never getting those moments of my life back.
I listen to the officially-sanctioned mediocre praise choruses that they put on. It's sorta like this, in that it makes me wanna listen to Cannibal Corpse when I get home. The major differences being that the ilahija is Bosnian. And good. And makes me want to listen to Cannibal Corpse for the exact opposite reason.
The ilahija, for whatever reason, is five minutes of serenity, and no calm can shake my inmost storm while to this rock I'm clinging. Seriously; it'd mess up my gyroscopically-balanced psyche, and no good ever comes of that.
Whereas this (because I'm too lazy to look for the original, which is just as ghastly) is the opposite of that: it's one more wind in the hurricane, keening mosquito-like at an annoying frequency.
Fuck that. I have enough of them already without a boring melody with no bassline.
This is Edo, signing off for this post.
10/15/2007
Meme du nuit
| Mage: the Awakening Path Quiz
Your Result: Mastigos
You're a Mastigos, a warlock, awakened to the watchtower of the iron gauntlet, in the realm of Pandemonium, the place of demons. You hold mastery over the Mind and Space arcanum.
| |
| Acanthus | |
| Thyrsus | |
| Moros | |
| Obrimos | |
| Mage: the Awakening Path Quiz See All Our Quizzes | |
I will say this very bluntly: new Mage is an abomination. Atlantis? The Supernal World, separated from ours by a wizards' war? Piss on that. Give me back the Ascension War, the Nine Spheres, and the glorious insanity of consensus-based reality.
Give me back the Cult of Ecstasy and the Order of Hermes. I grokked the Order of Hermes, in serious ways; I actually took the old Tradition Book for 'em and followed up on it, reading through as much of the recommended-reading list as I could dig up in the Five College library system.
But yeah. I guess it's some comfort knowing that I'd be an infernalist mindfucker.
(Although it's much easier to mindfuck somebody with Death 3 - simply rip their soul out of your body, keep it in your basement for a few months, and watch as their Morality drops to sociopathic lows and the Derangements start piling up. Now that's what a real Warlock would do.)
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