"He-who-sticks-fingers-in-electrical-sockets-seeking-'bright'-ideas"

s

2008-02-21T07:13:47Z

Space stuff.

spy satellite -going down.
more infos
http://www.cbc.ca/technology/quirks-blog/2008/02/the_secrets_out.html

um there was a lunar eclipse last night.
it looked redish.

k bye.

m_G

Uranium mines, Ardoch Algonquins

2008-02-21T07:11:51Z

You can learn more here, and sign the petition over here. (note you don't have to donate to the site to post or sign, just click go back after you've posted, etc. But you can donate if you want to. Hmm the facebook group sent a message saying where you could donate to help. Maybe I will post that too...

There are turning points in societies. This is a major one for the Ottawa Valley, and possibly for Indigenous Rights in the greater scheme of things.
We have a chance to change the course of things; once uranium laden rock is laid bare, and accessible to wind and water, there is no turning back. Canada, and Ontario specifically, needs to rethink it's approach to energy, and nuclear power.
There may be a need in a peak-oil society for such power sources, but running headlong into it, heedlessly, we risk destroying our civilization merely because we want to maintain the status quo. The native traditions have much to teach us. About warriorship. About living in harmony. About reconstructing your identity when the rest of the world is trying to pull it apart, and make you something else.
There is room for our modern knowledge to coexist with the wisdom of the past; in fact without it, we risk creating a society not worth living in, regardless of how powerful we become.
One of the first great lessons we must learn, and then master, is that we too are but guests on this earth - we must relinquish our belief that we must have eminent domain over all things. When we stop trying to subjugate nature, that is when we shall truly be able to learn from her. Or whatever remains if the mass extinctions happening now ever slow down again close to a natural rate.
Thank you for considering this issue seriously; I hope we are all around to enjoy the better world we seek to create, and listening to one another and caring -real community- is the first step.

On Feb 15, 2008, Bob Lovelace, a Queen's Professor and a Professor at Fleming College, was given six months in prison and fined $25 000 for contempt of court for "failing to acknowledge" that the Crown has the ability to supersede Algonquin law. Bob was peacefully protesting with Indigenous peoples and the local settler community against the intrusion of a uranium mining company on the Ardoch Algonquin First Nations ancestral lands, in and around Sharbot Lake, Ontario.

Paula Sherman, a professor at Trent University, was also sentenced to six months behind bars, but as a single mother of three she has agreed to stop her protest to avoid jail. She was fined $15 000, all of which is payable to Frontenac Ventures a company which has had no trouble paying for a high-price team of lawyers. Harold Perry, another community leader, was also found to be in violation in the original injunctions.

All three should be commended for their sacrifices and resolve.

These activities amount to legitimate civil disobedience, in line with the activism of Rosa Parks. It is an effort to protect the integrity of Algonquin law and have the Crown and the government respect the authority of Indigenous laws, in practice long before Roman law, let alone its modern British-Canadian manifestations.

This is an injustice, on an innocent and honourable people, who's only crime is resisting state-sponsored colonialism, the proposed environmental degradation of Algonquin land and fighting for the health of both settlers and Indigenous people who would be affected.

By joining this group you join the voices of others demanding that Frontenac Ventures immediately halts its involvement at Sharbot Lake and that all charges leveled against Bob Lovelace and Paula Sherman are dropped and punishments extinguished.

***ATTENTION QUEEN'S STUDENTS***

Please Email AMS President Kingsley Chak at president@ams.queensu.ca

If we let him know where we all stand, and that the AMS should support Bob Lovelace, we can encourage the AMS to make a stand.

Also, for students of Bob Lovelace - If you could e-mail your thoughts on the amazing man that Professor Lovelace is to David McDonald (Development Studies Department Co-ordinator) at dm23@queensu.ca that would be great. David had requested these from students, to be used as character references in the future.

A LETTER FROM A SUPPORTER:

Dear Friends,
I'm guessing you've heard by now the outcome of last week's court case regarding the Ardoch Algonquin First Nation's efforts to protect 30,000 acres of land north of Sharbot Lake from an open pit uranium mine. Bob Lovelace has been incarcerated and hefty fines were laid against the Ardoch Algonquin First Nation and their co-chief, Paula Sherman. I was in court all day Tues, Thurs & Fri and I can tell you that this judge's harsh decision was egregiously misinformed. Justice was not served.

For now, a few things are happening:

1) I'm taking orders for NO URANIUM T-shirts as a fundraiser - cost is a $12 - $15 donation - email back with a size and whether you want white or yellow

2) A demonstration in support of the political prisoner Bob Lovelace is planned for Saturday, Feb 23 at 11am at the Quinte Detention Centre (Napanee) - email back if you can attend and have room in your car for others

3) Get yourself on the Uranium News list to keep up to date - email uraniumnews@mail.ccamu.ca and ask to join the list

4) Visit www.ccamu.ca and become informed about the history of this issue and the dangers of mining uranium

5) Letter writing campaigns to papers and politicians have started - email back if you want samples of letters

6) Bob's students at Queen's have set up a Facebook page (the group is called "Free Bob Lovelace") and are writing letters to Karen Hitchcock in order to get the university to put out a statement condemning the judge's decision and to support the moratorium on uranium mining - if you are connected to Queen's please support these actions

7) A second round of contempt charges will proceed against Bob as well as Frank Morrison (the private landowner who first asked for the Ardoch's assistance) and David Milne (a Christian Peacemaker) and John Hudson beginning March 18th in Kingston (Court St) so please show up at court for at least one hour to show the court that this is of interest to a broad spectrum of the community.

8) A Citizen's Inquiry into the Uranium Cycle is planned for April 8-10th in Kingston at Queen Street United Church (corner of Queen & Clergy) - we need people to make submissions (written and if you wish a 10 minute oral submission) on various aspects of the social, environmental, political, etc, implications of uranium - email back for the information package and submission guidelines or if you can volunteer to help out.

9) The drill will be going in to the Robertsville site to begin drilling but we don't know when. Let me know if you are willing to be available as an observer should we need to assemble in order to peacefully and nonviolently witness and contest the arrival of the drill. Please read the following statement issued to us from the OPP so that you are informed. We don't want more people risking contempt charges:
STATEMENT FROM OPP, FEB 15, 2008: "Pursuant to the court order, anyone within 200m of the gate, or any Frontenac Ventures employee at the site, can be arrested and charged with criminal contempt. As well, anyone obstructing Frontenac Venture employees or equipment can be arrested and charged with criminal contempt. Buildings and/or structures may not be within 500m of the gate on Roberstville Road or Hwy 509."

10) A fundraising meeting is planned for this Thursday evening, 8pm at 99 York Street... please contact Susan Delisle at sdelisle@kingston.net if you plan to attend.

Please take action on at least one of these items above and please forward this email widely to your contacts. This is a crisis that involves the intersection of social justice issues, environmental issues, First Nations issues, and Human Rights issues... it matters to all of us.
Many thanks.

CONTACT YOUR REPRESENTATIVE:
-Kingston's Provincial Representative is also the Minister of the Environment-
John Gerretsen, M.P.P.
The LaSalle Mews,
2-303 Bagot Street
Kingston, ON
K7K 5W7
T: 613.547.2385
F: 613.547.5001
jgerretsen.mpp.co@liberal.ola.org

Peter Milliken, M.P. for Kingston and the Islands
The LaSalle Mews
14-303 Bagot Street
Kingston, ON
K7L 5W7
T: 613.542.3243
F: 613.542.5461
millip@parl.gc.ca

***all letters to FEDERAL representatives can be mailed postage free***

A Call for FINANCIAL SUPPORT:

BOB LOVELACE TO SERVE SIX MONTHS IN JAIL: Press release: Christian Peacemaker Teams Canada

Where Is The Justice?
Kingston, Ontario
February 15, 2008

Kingston Regional Police took Bob Lovelace away from the courthouse in handcuffs this morning to serve a six month sentence on a contempt of court charge handed down by Justice Douglas Cunningham. Lovelace, age fifty-nine, is an ex-chief and spokesperson for the Ardoch Algonquin First Nation (AAFN). He is also father to seven children and an instructor at Queen's University and Sir Sandford Fleming Community College. Justice Cunningham imposed a fine of $25,000 on Lovelace and $10,000 on his community.

Lovelace said "I am in a dilemma. I want to obey Canadian law but Algonquin law instructs me that I must preserve Creation. I must follow Algonquin law." Judge Cunningham in his sentencing said, "There can only be one law - the law of Canada as expressed in this court."

Co-chief Paula Sherman and Honorary Chief Harold Perry agreed to abide by the terms of an injunction which forbids them from blocking Frontenac Ventures Ltd from drilling test holes on the site or encouraging others to do so. In this way they avoided Bob Lovelace's fate. "I want to be with Bob" said Harold "but my community does not want me to do this". Perry is age seventy-eight and has heart problems while Paula Sherman is a single parent.

Earlier in the hearing Chief Doreen Davis and Earl Badour of the Shabot Obaadjiwan First Nation agreed to abide by the terms of the injunction of September 27, 2007. They must reappear in court on March 18, 2008.

Chris Reid, lawyer for AAFN, noted that there were other options available to the involved parties which would have prevented this outcome. The Province of Ontario could have removed the claimed land from the lands available to be staked and explored. Further, he observed "The Supreme Court of Canada has ruled that all provinces have a duty to consult with First Nations who have even a weak claim on land before they permit any development. Ontario has not consulted with any Algonquin band about this claim".

Ardoch Algonquin First Nation is a federally-unrecognized community and so does not receive funding from any government. They urgently need support for costs related to Bob's defence. They are asking supporters to please send donations, made out to: "Chris Reid, in trust for the Ardoch Algonquin First Nation" at the address below:

Christopher M. Reid
Barrister & Solicitor
154 Monarch Park Ave.
Toronto, ON M4J 4R6
Tel: (416) 466-9928
Fax: (416) 466-1852

m_G

one thing

2008-02-20T08:44:26Z

"The second possibility was perfectly explainable within known theoretic laws of the universe. Radin's opposite number, University of Amsterdam's Dick Bierman, believed you could account for precognition through a well known quantum phenomenon known as retarded and advanced waves - the so-called Wheeler-Feynman absorber theory, which says that a wave can travel backward in time from the future to arrive at its source.
What happens between two electrons is this. When one electron jiggles a bit, it sounds out radiating waves into both the past and the future. The future wave, say, would hit a future particle, which would also wiggle, while sending out its own advanced and retarded waves. The two sets of waves from these two electrons cancel out, except in the region between [this seems backwards to me, they should only cancel out in the space in between] them. The end result of a wave from the first travelling backward and the second travelling forward is an instantaneous connection."
-The Field

Illel's Story Chapter 3

2007-10-04T00:46:31Z

Category: Dungeons and Dragons
Title: Illel's Story
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Seeds of Hope
Genre: Fantasy/Tragedy
Rating: Fiction Rated: T
Summary: This chapter is about the druid and the elf getting to know each other a little. We learn a little bit about some of the things Illel was carrying as well. Druid does most of the talking, Illel is still in shock. This part takes place in the past, in Illel of the future's reverie.

Illel's Story chapters
Ch1: Smoke and Blood	Ch2: Of Falls and Cocoons	Ch3: Seeds of Hope

Chapter 3 - Seeds of Hope

The druid woke gently from sleep that, although recuperative, carried the theme of worry for what he should do for his little charge, throughout. The night was alive with music; the choruses of animals and insects, and the beginning stirrings of some birds, as the sky started to lighten to twilight, the stars blazing brilliantly and twinkling in their own mystical, beautiful play of light.

Worry caught him off-guard, when he noticed the little elf girl was no longer where she had been resting, his cloak laying in a heap where she had been. The night before, she had been shivering, so he had put his cloak over her, not realizing she was not shivering because of the chill night air. When he had stroked her hair, and spoke some reassuring words in her family’s elvish dialect, she had seemed to settle and become more at ease, at least for a short time.

Astyanax stood quietly, bent over so as not to hit the canopy of leaves and branches that wove and grew together above him to provide a small amount of shelter, and stepped into the moist grass and leaves barefoot, walking about the encampment towards where he saw a small form sitting on a root that had grown above ground near a short, old tree, conveniently twisted to provide an excellent seat with a view of the forest and small lake that this side of the rise the encampment was on overlooked. He could tell she was aware of him as he approached, so he said nothing, as she stared quietly into the distance, not turning as he sat on the ground next to her, but taking in the vastness of the earth and sky about her. The sky on the horizon where she looked was turning a lighter shade of blue slowly. The air was very calm.

He gazed into her face quietly, trying to read what was there: her eyes seemed sad, there was an emptiness about her, almost disbelief. It seemed she was not recollecting the events of a few nights ago, but trying to come to terms with… the sudden emptiness, the gap left by her parents, her family, her way of life disappearing. He looked over the view of the forest and lake, and mused that she seemed to be progressing well, all things considered. The spectrum of the sky began to shift as he watched, the deep navy and burst of stars receding and fading behind him to the west, and turning into a green and then a yellower tinge blending to the horizon in front of them.

He looked back at her, noticing her hair had become more dishevelled, her face somehow stoic in the twilight, and he noticed that clenched fist again, that she held gingerly on her knees: there was something she was holding in it.

“May I see?” he asked her softly, gesturing towards her hand when he got her attention. Her face twisted in protest, and she brought her fist closer to her chest protectively, but after a moment, she relented, slowly, carefully holding her hand out, just close enough, and uncurling her slender elven fingers.

In her hand was an acorn-like seed that sparkled silvery white and that shimmered in the twilight.

“Oh! That IS very special,” the druid remarked, “that is the seed of one of the spirit trees. Did your parents give you that before-“ he caught himself before he finished what he was saying, but she understood and nodded her head reticently in reply. “You need to take extra special care of that. The spirit trees are gone now – the home of your ancestral spirits, where your people commune with the elders and the yet-to-be-born-again. Now that they are gone, “ her expression seemed to crack for a moment, tears welling in her eyes, but in the moment after, as he continued, her gaze was steady and clear again, “this seed is your hope for your people, your clan, to be born again – and to be reunited with your family-“ he was startled for a moment as she suddenly tensed, desperately hopeful, with longing in her face, “…in spirit,” he continued. She looked down at the seed with a certain awe, seeming more energetic and full of life, suddenly.

He reached towards it slowly, “May I? I can make it into a necklace for you, and protect it with magic.” She proffered the seed to him, reluctant but trusting.

“I will be back with it in a moment,” he said, standing, as he walked back to the shelter, and tapped an open-caged, sweet-smelling lantern, and fireflies began to fly about and glow, giving him a little extra light to work by.

The horizon was turning a golden orange, the sky above a pale baby-blue, and small clouds were blazing in the distance in lavenders, pinks, and orange. The stars had receded to the very furthest reaches of the sky, except for a couple bright ones in the east. [planets] The little elf girl was looking down at the seed she now wore strung around her neck, the work done on it, with such a look of joy that it was the druid’s turn to fear shedding a tear, as he broke some bark up and put it into a steaming pot over a small fire nearby.

An axe lay with its head buried in a chopping stump near them, but it looked as if little wood had been chopped in the area for quite some time. There was a stinky muddy patch a short walk away, with the biggest mushrooms of all kinds that Illel had ever seen, growing in the shade of a stand of tall trees. There was a path down to the river, where a small dock jutted into the water, with a long narrow boat pulled up onto the shore. She could hear the buzzing of bees from one tree nearby, see the little hidden nest where they swarmed about.

“Bzzz Bzzz!” she sounded at the druid as he savoured his steaming tea, before taking a sip of her own tea, which was heavily sweetened with honey. This game was so much fun!

“Very good! What else do you see?” the druid encouraged. She could see two songbirds on a branch in a tree nearby, singing to each other. Illel made a sing-song bird noise like the birds she heard and saw. The druid smiled at her and said, “what else?”

Next to them was a wild, haphazard, overgrown-looking garden of bushes and flowers and stones, with vegetables and berries and flowers, a wondrous cacophony of smells wafting towards them on a gentle breeze. Illel inhaled deeply and slowly through her nose, closing her eyes, taking it all in. She pointed gingerly toward a flower growing nearby where they sat.

“Yes, flowers too. But, what kinds of flowers? They’re not all the same you know. They have different tastes, and smells, and looks and feels… if you listen close enough, their voices are different too!” Illel smiled shyly, shaking her head disbelievingly as he teased her. “This is dusky blue strawberry, and that is darrow cucumber,” the druid explained to her as she walked through the plants. A little ways a part was another, similar garden, slightly more sheltered than the other, hidden from view by taller bushes around it. Illel wandered into that one, to the druid’s dismay.

“That is a medicinal garden, little one…you’re not ready to learn those yet…” he trailed off as she wandered in heedless. A beautiful, majestic deep violet flower caught her attention, and she pointed at it and looked askance. “Don’t touch that little one; it is a rare flower, and it can be quite dangerous. That one is called black lotus. Come over here and finish your tea. The soup is almost ready.” She wandered back to the fire obediently, as the druid bemused how she seemed drawn to beautiful, dangerous things. He wondered if her clan taught of such herbs and poisons to use, then decided there was no need for schooling in that just yet, whatever the case may be.

O O O

During the quiet, as they drank their soup, Illel’s countenance grew distant, and forlorn in reminiscence, the cold tendrils of despair twisting into her soul despite the warm, bright clear sky of day. The druid slurped his soup noisily, then made like he was licking it up like a dog, which seem to amuse and draw a disdainful look from her, as she seemed to forget the day before for the moment. He plunged his face into the soup, then made a silly effort to get soup bits from his beard into his mouth with his tongue. Her face turned red and she kicked her feet at his silliness, cracking a bit of a smile, but she did not laugh.

They washed their faces and hands with water from a bucket, then he poured some on the fire, and blew at the billows of smoke as they rose. She seemed to enjoy the game at first, but then something seemed to strike a chord, and tears began to stream down her face as she stared blankly and mutely, forgetting what was in front of her. The druid Astyanax frowned disappointedly and doused the rest of the fire without fanfare.

O O O

They sat on the ground, with her few belongings spread on the ground between them. A small thick bow of green wood; a pair of toughened, treated leaf and wood-strip archery bracers that had the texture of leather; and delicate-looking boots of the same sort of material which was in fact exceedingly durable; a satchel of same with wrapped leaf food with the smell of berries and fruit coming from it, as well as a dagger that seemed made from a tooth; a small yellow faceted crystal.

The druid could sense the magic in these, an ancient and secret elvish magic learned from the ways of the fey; a magic not entirely unlike his own. The dagger and food seemed mostly mundane, he could not discern the purpose of the crystal – perhaps it was for some spiritual rite. He reached for the bow and asked, “May I see?” and examined it once she nodded.

“Living wood? It grows with you? The string is made of moonsilk? Does the bow speak to you in your mind?” The girl seemed puzzled, not understanding what he meant. “It responds to your thoughts and feelings?” he said, and this time she nodded. He tested the pull of the bow, and was surprised that the harder he pulled, the greater the pull of the bow. It was truly a bow that would grow with the archer, as she gained in strength. Moonsilk, he mused; he never knew such a string to have been broken by mundane means, and knew also it resonated with the mental powers of the Soroswol clan elves – it helped them to use some of their abilities. The bow itself probably enhanced these as well.

He cast a spell, and glowing runes were revealed on the bracers… the magic of which, seemed to allow an archer to fire more precisely, to time their shots, especially to avoid hitting friendly combatants near the target being fired at.

The runes on the boots seemed to suggest mental powers of bonding, of holding the wearer against a surface, besides being protected from the elements and wear. They likely helped a young elf to master their clan’s secret of tree-running, running and staying on surfaces, like trees, without falling off, so they could literally run up and down trees. Remembering earlier, it occurred to him she must not have mastered these either, yet.

He flipped the knife in the air above his hand, flipped the grip, spun it in his hand; the weight was good, for throwing or fighting, but it seemed more a tool than a fighting weapon. He smiled at her, “I have just the thing…” and went back to the shelter, lifting a wide flatish rock, which seem to cover a stone enclosure, with various things in it. He pulled out some tools and some leather, and began to work away, while Illel hugged her knees and stared at her things. She tried flipping the knife around in her hand as the druid had, then tiring of that quickly, started gazing at the clouds that passed overhead, her hair blowing gently in the breeze. He returned with a sheath, that had a strap that could be adjusted.

“I suggest you put it on your ankle, but you can put it around your waist too, if need be, he said, and took the offered foot and fit the sheath there snugly, wrapping and tying the extra length slowly, making sure she was watching and saw how he did it. “Like that.”

2007-10-03

m_G

onfeynyuan_shen @ 2007-08-28T16:47:00

2007-08-28T20:51:54Z

a book called 'discipline'

http://www.pacoahlgren.com/trailer

captain sweep talks about the security and prosperity partnership and gives some footage of a forum that was held.

http://video.google.ca/videoplay?docid=-2066838713748894566&hl=en-CA

m_G

onfeynyuan_shen @ 2007-08-24T12:25:00

2007-08-24T16:27:49Z

http://www.ottawagrans.net/

The raging grannies rock! I should totally embed an image on this page...

hmmm

on the revolution

2007-08-23T02:15:43Z

There are two main parts to the revolution.

One is creating a fair and just world whose culture and form promotes wisdom and enlightenment, the development of the souls of the people.

The second, is redeeming 'the lost souls', the corruptors, the people who think they run the world, the pawns who choose to play their game, and show them the light - to show the worthlessness of outward power in the world in many ways, to enfold people into the secret of the true meaning of life, and return them to their journeys from which they've strayed.

I think, in this culture of fear, the second objective is often lost, and instead of following Buddha nature, and embracing suffering and sorrow to teach our brothers and sisters compassion, we forget our own higher natures and instead fall into the downward cycle, of violence and hate and vengeance.

Spirituality and truth may be elusive at times, but if you believe in an afterlife, and a soul, and that we are all kin in spirit, born of essential good which is forgotten in the life of the flesh, then the world is not truly made for the 'good' and the enlightened - they have their world already, the afterlife - it is made for the others: those who wish to try aspire to the good, but have their burdens which hold them back; and those who have chosen darkness, and turned their back on the light. To them, this world is their gateway, their opportunity for something better; the good who suffer as lambs are the keys to this gateway, the teachers who can show the lost back to the path.

This is not entirely correct, but perhaps I can elucidate further another time.

One carries weights to build muscles, and vices of mortality to build virtues of the spirit.
It is important to work hard and regularly, but it is also good to throw off one's burdens and take a day of rest, from time to time, and feel the ease and strength and peace within, to remember who we are becoming.

m_G

story ch 2

2007-07-30T21:33:51Z

Published: 06-03-07 - Updated: 06-03-07

Title: Illel's Story
Author: Maikeru333
Rating: T
Genre: Fantasy/Tragedy
Disclaimer: I don't own the forgotten realms. It was Ed Greenwood originally.
Summary: The past will always find you, especially if you have something it wants.
umm the body escapes, but the mind and heart are still imprisoned.

Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapters
Ch1: Smoke and Blood	Ch2: Of Falls and Cocoons

"The reason they nailed your people to the spirit trees was to prolong their suffering. That is part of the evil nature of the Drow. The distance between the spirit world and this one is not so far, by those trees. It is horrible to suffer this way, for so long, but in the end, I'm glad they did it: your Elder Ashimshi lived long enough to tell me of you, where you were hiding. Otherwise I would not have found you." The elven girl began to shiver like a leaf, the emptiness and shock in her giving way to a shimmering gloss of welling tears. Her face scrunched momentarily, then she was still and calm again, her mind someplace else. Maybe she was not ready to be drawn out yet. But Astyanax persisted, gently, his voice quiet, soothing like a gentle breeze,"To be witness to such tragedy, and horror, is horrible, but it is also a natural part of this world. Some say this is to have your innocence stolen. In truth, it is ignorance which is lost - ignorance to the depths of evil that exist in this world. But good and evil are peculiar things... like light and darkness, they have a way of defining each other, creating each other. Each has a place in this world," she looked up at him with a forlorn look at this, so he was quick to add, "What happened to your people, your family... it was evil hard to imagine, it's not fair." He continued, "but horrible things happen to good people all the time, for no reason at all, no 'fault' of their own. Some people try to say that there is fault, or strain to understand the reasons behind the strings of fate, overwhelmed and frustrated by things beyond their understanding, that perhaps they were not meant to understand, at the time. You can shout at a mountain for a rockslide, or the rains for a flood, but in the end, you don't hate them, and if you fear them enough to be cautious and learn their ways, it only makes you wise. But part of your shock, part of your burden, is knowing that the horrors you witnessed were done by conscious, sentient beings -thinking, feeling- whose ears were deaf to the cries of those they tormented, finding even pleasure in the suffering they brought."

Astyanax watched her mutely watching the swaying brush and trees in the breeze, her head swaying with them, but he continued on, hoping some small piece of the meaning behind his words would stay with her, that one day they would find her as she searched her own soul for meaning. "So people lose their ignorance, and know of the dark things in this world. And knowing"... he paused a moment, finding his words, "knowing, they become touched by the darkness, like a seed, growing in them." He wasn't sure she would be able to understand, and looked for way to express it, that her people would know, a way familiar to her, something her family may have shown to her... "Seeds can grow to become many things... It is like a seed of light and darkness, all in one..." He trailed off, as she scratched her leg and began to swing her legs beneath the branch she sat on."

The sky was very blue, birds were singing, the air was sweet with fragrant aromas and the fresh smell of trees. A stream trickled and burbled quietly in the distance, and occasionally the trees would sigh, as if, as one, they were breathing. It was just like Illel, on the surface; but beneath, he knew dark storms still raged. The druid sighed gently, and let the sun shine down on his closed eyes briefly, enjoying the quiet, sorrowful at the ill it concealed, but knowing well the virtue of patience.

"Whatever you nurture, will grow. If you want to grow the plant of happiness, and goodness, and light, you must shower what you grow with love and care. But if you shower the seeds with fear, and anger, and hate, what grows is a weed that will stifle the goodness." He paused again, and her face briefly flickered towards him, before she went back to chasing butterflies with her eyes. "When you have been touched by darkness, as we all are in different ways, at different times in our lives - from then on, you lose your ignorance of evil, and doing good, nurturing the good, becomes a choice - sometimes a difficult one. And that is why, when many people touch darkness, they lose their innocence - sometimes that choice becomes too hard to make, people get lost and cannot follow the seed of light in them..." Illel had stood up, grasping Astyanax' cloak for support, and was coaxing a caterpillar from a higher branch onto her hand, lost intently in its world, as it made little movements to push itself forward.

"Darkness can force someone's heart, their innocence, into a coccoon, for a time - but it is not lost, for there it sleeps, waiting for something, to awaken it ..." She raised the caterpillar to his face triumphantly, a hint of pride and joy in her face, perhaps seeking approval in the manner young ones are wont to do.

"And when it awakens, it fights to break free from its coccoon, from the things that once protected it, yet bind it, and finally, it becomes a butterfly, free from the sorrows of those bound to the earth." She gently coaxed the caterpillar now, from her hand, back onto a leaf.

"Have patience and courage, little one," he said quietly, as she suddenly lost her balance and fell from the branch.

He dove off the branch after her, sprouting wings in midair, and seizing her firmly in his talons, winged through some leaves with her before alighting with her on another branch.

"Hmm. We'll have to do something about that, too," Astyanax said quietly to himself.

2007-05-17-1624h

m_G

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-JknipqSHss

story ch1

2007-07-30T21:27:03Z

Fiction Rated: T - English - Fantasy/Tragedy - Published: 06-03-07 - Updated: 06-03-07

Finally, dawn came, not witness to the horrors and screams of the night, but merely to their echoes, smouldering fires, the smell of blood and burning flesh and wood. Towering trees lay toppled, or were charred hulks, remnants of rope and wood aerial walkways, homes in the trees, dangled limply in absolute surrender. Bodies dangled from some of these trees, some who were probably burnt alive, spiked to the trees, others dangled from ropes, their meat fresh and exposed, though drained of blood, some with their skin left carelessly on the ground beneath them. But no carrion had yet taken to the fallen. Perhaps, they, too, were still in sorrow, that the guardians of the forest had fallen.

All except one. A great, dark beast, a king amongst wolves, black thick fur blowing back, as it raced the wind, through the pathes of the forest, the scent of death growing stronger to it as it propelled itself with relentless speed. Onward, straight toward the ruins of the once-great hidden foresttop city.

The choking smoke of the night had mostly given way to morning mist, and the sun was melting the obscuring veil with its bold, unrelenting rays, revealing the truth of what had been, what remained. The wolf stalked through the bodies, but it did not feed. It surveyed the carnage carefully, an unyielding, unfathomable intelligence hidden behind its black eyes.

Hordes of tracks crossed the ground that was normally untouched, pristine in this forest. Booted tracks. The smell of blood. Elven blood... sylvan blood. But not all of it of the denizens of the forest city - Drow had been here. In great numbers. A mostly intact body of a fallen sylvan male elf warrior, still clasping to an ivory blade, was pierced through with arrows, some still oozing with black poison on their tips, mixed with blood.

Suddenly, the wolf stopped its wandering gait through the blackened bodies and undergrowth, turning it's head up, sniffing several times. Doppelgangers? Illithids? The smells of creatures and things of the deep dark... rare creatures to this forest... smells of things never welcomed into the secret forest city before.

The body of a male sylvan elf child, grip locked still around a small elvencraft bow, lay with its throat slit open, eyes rolled back, it's back bent and ribs broken from a fall. The wolf's dark black eyes absorbed it all, unflinching. It was a great city, and mostly there'd been bodies of the Drow littering the forest floor... where was the rest of the clan? Perhaps some had survived the onslaught. The wolf made its way purposefully towards the center of the city.

The trees and brush parted, and fresh smoke billowed into the sky still in the near distance, just past the imposing trees. Beyond them, the smouldering remnants of the spirit trees stood, their once silver, sparkling trunks and silver leaves now covered only in the gore of the masses of dismembered, mutilated, charred bodies nailed in various fashions over them. The wolf stopped, its huge form hunching, then let a bellowing, mournful howl that echoed with a wave of sadness, expanding outward from the city, the untouched trees beyond the city's reach bowing as if blown by a great wind as the howl passed over them.

Deep green eyes with specks of gold shot open, at the blood-curdling, mournful sound of a wolf, echoing from the heart of the city. Terror was etched on her face, tracks from silent tears still marred the small elven girl's face. She wore shorts of treated, leatherized leaves, and a top made of a band of woven moss that wrapped around her chest and waist, and over her shoulders. Her silver bangs were braided in a loop to a partial braid at the back of her head, but the hair, which had been carefully taken care of by her mother only the night before, was wet and clumped to her head from sweat. Her breath came in forced, quiet gasps, as she tried to stifle the sound of her breathing, as she looked out from her hiding place. It was a place meant to purify moonsilk, deep within a stone about 10' high and vaguely dome shaped, red on the outside, but from which you could see out perfectly - though no light - or traces of magic or psi - escaped from within - a perfect hiding place against the betrayers, and the brain-eaters.

But the psi-magic amplification of the bloodstone alcove had another, truly unfortunate effect: the emotions, the pain, the sorrow, the blood fervour of her kin, the pschic traces of the horrible ways they died, all these, too were amplified, and gathered and echoed in that little chamber. Her fists were still clenched tight, even when sleep had finally overcome her, long after the main of the battle was over, her kin slain. Her red-rimmed eyes were now locked open, huge saucers of eyes on such a young elven girl. She strained, listening intensely, fiercely at the quiet, the crackle of still burning wood startling and sudden in intensity to her - yet she did not move a muscle, nor let a whisper of a sound free. Terror had gotten deep into her soul, and had a stranglehold on it. The things she had seen and heard and felt that night would echo within her deeply, always that clenching stranglehold of terror, or horror, haunting her dreams, corrupting sweet youth with dreams of escape, and of vengeance... and of loss. And loneliness... loneliness that would hound her, find her in those times she sought the comfort of family.

Stirring on the cold, hard floor, she woke from the nightmare to see the others huddled in a circle still, the wizard sitting lotus with a closed blue-dragonskin spellbook floating before him, but obviously still in reverie. The feral halfling was half-snoring, half growling in his sleep; occasionally an ear would twitch as if hearing something, then an eye would snap open, then just as fast he would be asleep again. The dervish stood sentry, but they expected no more danger here, now - and he was focussed on spinning and whirling in intricate patterns with his pair of scimitars, one shining in the dim light like the moon, the other dark as night.

She let out her breath slowly, consciously, relaxing her clenched fists and jaw, sitting up and stretching briefly, her eyes taking in the dungeon beneath the ruins of Hornung's tower, a few hours outside of Achelar in Halrua. She thought of how big a change it had been, from their long journeying by caravan, or travelling weeks by ship in the Sea of Stars, to being able to jump half way across the known world in a matter of days. The wizard's power had increased; not only that, but they'd been joined by a Windwalker worshipper of Shaundakul, patron diety of travel and portals. Which had come in handy the past few days they'd been exploring the tower - some of the traps and barriers they couldn't disable, so to bipass them they would have to use travel magic. Thus the camping in the dungeon to save on magic.

She lay back down, flashes of her dreams still poking up from submersion in her still cobweb-covered subconscious. She inhaled deeply, feeling the cool, musty air fill her, putting her attention on it. fwoooo! She exhaled slowly through her mouth, keeping her attention on the feeling of breathing. Slowly, she brought her mind to one of her happy places, nestled snuggly in the boughs of a tree, the wind rocking her gently, far from the uncaring world below... and the even less caring world beneath it. Soon, she returned to reverie... and her troubled dreams.

The great wolf approached the spirit trees slowly at first, surveying the slaughter sharply, picking out faces, looking to identify individuals. With a bound the wolf burst into a run, towards one of the spirit trees - running headlong into the tree - then turning upwards and sprinting up the side of the tree, deftly slipping past bodies as smoke and char hissed and broke from its paws as it ran.

Instead of youthful elves, here, at this place, high up on this one great tree, were the elders of the tribe. One in particular had been dismembered, with parts spaced a meter or so from one another, somewhat haphazardly. But there, in the center, was the head of the high elder Ashimshi, nailed to the tree through the forehead with a shortsword of dark elven craftmanship. There, the wolf stopped, it's head an armslength away, panting loudly, precariously perched on the side of the tree.

The elder's pupils rolled back into view, looking at the wolf, seeing into it, and KNOWING.

"There is one... the bloodstone... go from here... they return for the trees," the elder's voice rasped like the sound of a breath of wind through leaves, answering questions left unasked. His eyes rolled back in his head, as his lifeforce finally fled, as wind suddenly stirred and blew ash and smoke into the air. The wolf turned and raced back down the tree.

She could hear it coming from far away... the heavy footsteps, bounding and tearing past brush and trees and bodies. Her tiny heart began to race, her eyes widening: it seemed to be heading straight for her. It was coming for her! They'd found her!

The footsteps slowed, and a beast twice her height at its shoulder came into view. It was cloaked in fur the colour of night, breathing hard, sniffing. It's black eyes stared through the walls of the alcove at her. She reminded herself that it could not see through, pleaded that the words her parents told her were true. She held her breath, as it's nose touched the side of the alcove, saw the red of the outside reflected in its black, lightless eyes. It growled in a bizarre fashion, as if speaking some unknown language, and began to push it's face through the side of the alcove. She reached over beside her, to grab the short elvencraft bow that lay beside her, starting to shake and jitter uncontrollably, holding her breath, her face tightening.

She held out hope until the very moment its head had pushed it's way through, until its eyes had penetrated, and she could see its eyes lock onto her, meet her eyes, and it seemed ready to lunge forward. That was when she started swinging, forcefully, with one hand wielding the bow like a club, flailing wildly at it, trying to hold it back, a scream caught in her throat, breaths coming in gasps as she could hold it no longer, but she couldn't bare to make a noise...

She may have struck it once, but then it knocked the bow from her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut, thrashing out with her hands, all the while keeping her left fist, and the treasure she held within it, closed...

A hand reached out and grabbed her forearm, held her, and she opened her eyes in surprise. The beast had grown an arm from its chest, and as she watched, the creature morphed and shifted, fur giving way to a flowing cloak. A man's face looked down at her, ancient yet vibrant. Deep blue eyes, holding the ocean and sky, gazed down at her, and the deep sorrow and compassion she saw in them gave her pause, startled her. There was something vaguely familiar about the face. She stopped fighting, and stared dumbfounded, eyes wide, as he pulled her into his arms and buried her head in the fabric of his cloak and his chest. Silently, tears began to stream down her face.

"What is your name, little one? Are you ok?" The little elven girl said nothing, her face empty of expression, her spirit exhausted, deadened with the ordeal, the weight of what she had seen. The druid looked and saw her left hand clenched.

"What are you holding there?" He reached to open her hand and see, but she pulled away from him and pulled it to her chest, her face contorting in protest. "Are these your things?" He said, gesturing toward a small satchel and the things within it, the bow on the ground, as he gathered them up and passed them to her. She accepted them blankly.

"We can't stay here," he said gently but firmly, as he guided her toward the wall, and they both began to merge with, and pass through the stone wall of the alcove.

"We must go, but there is something I must do first," he said calmly. Stepping away from her, and throwing his cloak back, revealing wide shoulders, the hilt of a scimitar, and some sort of well-crafted hide armour.

"Aiyashta Danaan shiii-daru ...-" the druid began to chant words, incomprehensible to her, that hinted of fey, sounding like each word was charged with magical energy and meaning. He spread his arms wide, and a sudden wind began to blow about him, and billow his cloak this way and that.

His words seemed to resonate, pierce through her soul: it was magic, she knew, but it was not like the magic of her people; but it was not entirely foreign either. She watched silently, for a moment, her fears forgotten.

"GIBRALTA NiNUMEN DIJENGIA," his voice boomed now, though gentle, it seemed to come from all around her, as the wind began to stir the forest all about them. The sky, empty and clear save for faded plumes of smoke, began to thicken, roil and churn, clouds forming. There was a low growl, that turned into a deep grumble, that rolled towards them from the distance. The sky began to darken, turning shades of purple and blue and green and all shades of gray. The wind began to whisper, then howl, chasing in chaotic cirles, blowing this way and that, then to shriek and whistle through the trees. Somehow the man seemed impossibly tall, his eyes seemed almost to glow with power, as his cloak whipped about him.

"Daish'tana Remaidu NiTara," there was a crack, a momentary, blast of wind, and then the sky blazed with light, an arc lancing from the heavens and striking in the distance, beyond their view, connecting with one of the spirit trees. The air roared as the heavens were split assunder, and she turned away from the blinding light, only faintly hearing the man's voice beneath the roaring.

A few seconds passed, then the roaring and light stopped. In the distance, a deep sound of wood cracking, and something immense falling; scarcely had the vibrations from the roaring thunder subsided than the ground shook as of something huge collapsing into it.

The wind grew cooler and wetter, then rain began to fall in a drizzle that whipped hard into her face, so she squeezed her eyes half closed, still listening to the druid's voice speaking words of power into the sky. Lightning shattered the sky again for many seconds, the wind blasting and roaring with fury, and there was another crash. She did not count the number of times, but she knew before he was done, that there would be one great bolt for each of the spirit trees.

He paused for a moment, only a moment, looking over to her, and spoke more words of power, "Clatou, verata, Nictou!" Brambles and thorns and growth began surging from the ground, growing to cover the forest floor, growing thickly together, making things nearly impassable, and covering over the bodies, drow and sylvan alike, that lay there. The rain began to beat down, beating in pulses with the wind.

The man stepped towards her, kneeling low, beckoning her to him, and she obliged hesitantly.

"Do not be afraid," he said to her calmly, with gentleness in his eyes. He stood and turned, and his form began to shift and darken, black fur sprouting from him all over, and a great dark beast stood before her once again.

It turned and grasped her gently in its maw, lifting her to its back. She straddled it and grabbed a fistfull of fur, feeling herself sink into its softness. It began to move, first a walk, then a run, the wind rushing by. They ran straight through brambles and bushes, but none touched nor snagged the wolf. They ran straight towards a mammoth tree on the outskirts of the village, that dwarfed all those around it. The wolf began to growl strange unintelligble, gutteral sounds, just as they burst headlong into the tree...

...and entered INTO it. There was an overwhelming feeling of lightness, of being one with the trees, their spirits, a pervading sense of gentleness and calmness. Then suddenly they burst out into the light and and world again, the sky only faintly overcast overhead here, with light shining brightly on the horizon. Illel Soroswol, the last of her clan, watched wide eyed as the world rushed past them. Then, slowly, her head lowered. She buried her face into the soft fur, her grip still tight on the fur, and let the world fade away from her.

m_G

i have to post this one too; excellente!

2007-07-26T11:00:08Z

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLaWGvIB9fE

um i closed the window with the other stuff to post.
doh!

m_G

video

2007-07-26T10:00:40Z

http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=751507&cache=1

m_G

see, i learn stuff from the fake news!

2007-07-25T17:02:45Z

http://www.amazon.ca/Presidential-Secrecy-Law-Robert-Pallitto/dp/0801885833/ref=pd_ys_ir_b_fb_1/702-9187991-2743210

mmmm yummy book.

m_G

http://www.comedycentral.com/motherload/index.jhtml?ml_video=90347

see if this works...

so much fun you will piss your pants

2007-07-25T16:31:16Z

rnn preview:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-xZFRohIu0#

Afghan drugs, Insider's perspective:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?in_article_id=469983&in_page_id=1770&in_page_id=1770&expand=true

-----

In other news, I never sent out invites to my birthday party and I'm still unsure as to whether I should try and have one or not. In theory, it could be good fun. Might be lots of work, too, though, and if I invite too many people they may not fit, and not enough and maybe barely anyone would show. Not sure what to do to entertain people, either.

There's bigger news than that, of course. A friend in my DnD gaming group has had his Leukemia come back. He already had a bone marrow transplant. So they're looking at other options now. Wow, I'm not sure I can bitch at him the same anymore for pissing me off in the dnd game when I don't get my way. :/ My other friend with type one and two diabetes is running out of saved up money that's he's living on, and trying to get a place with his money, so he can actually apply for social assistance and stuff. If he runs out of money, before he can get some sort of assistance so he can afford his very expensive insulin and so on medication, he may not have long to worry about not being able to get a job and so forth, and how crappy his memory is getting, and sleeping all day, etc. Having his last taxes done in the US doesn't help things much. I hope red tape doesn't kill him. He's got other problems too, though, that I won't go into here.

There's a lot of other serious shit going down, like the security and prosperity partnership meeting, going on in Montebello Aug 19-23 or there abouts, the council of Canadians were going to try and hold a demo, information meetings, but the Harper gov't, the RCMP, the american military (why the fuck are they on Canadian soil) seem to be working to stop this. Maybe if they knew the stakes, they wouldn't be pawns working for those sell-outs and elitist, self-serving criminals. Well, Harper seems almost criminal on the environment...

The activism course might be happening in SOME form in the fall... but I don't know now... I've been neglecting to follow all the emails... I don't know if I'm burning out or not...I don't feel like I've been 'working that hard' at things... but I've been missing meetings and not keeping up on emails etc for all these things that I thought were so important. Add to that, I got kicked out of english class awhile back for missing to many classes, so now I'm just doing math... I wonder if I should take some time off, and focus on things I need to get done... I let myself get distracted by games and such, parties, wanting to roleplay... I guess there can be time and place for that, but... I really think my priorities are in limbo. I should get back into volunteering at the perc regularly too. Why I don't? I donno... lost momentum. It seems I get a little motivation, try and start stuff, then just totally drop the ball, forget everything, etc.

I wanted to do meditation, take some cooking classes, do community shared agriculture, work on my story, set up an appointment to learn about the cog sci program at Carleton, start reading regularly every day, get back to watching the documentaries I've got regularly... I've gotten back into watching the dailyshow and Colbert Report a bit.

I hope I know about the Real News Network when it comes out, cause that will be a must-see. It makes me so excited! Despite all the shit.

It's like all the negative stuff is helping people to get stronger, and start standing up for what they believe and stuff... hmm I shouldn't go into that too much...

yeah ok enough ranting.

m_G

philosophy: taoism? epistemology?

2007-07-17T07:04:53Z

I posted something here: http://community.livejournal.com/taoism/120257.html?view=701121
which might be of interest.

Which I will repost in part:

onfeynyuan_shen
2007-07-17 05:41 am UTC (link)
a book I liked, called I Ching Wisdom, might be helpful to you.

I don't know that much about Taoism, but I found it useful for me.

isbn 0-943015-03-0

the author is Wu Wei.

hope this helps.
(Reply to this)

no-thing
onfeynyuan_shen
2007-07-17 06:44 am UTC (link)
I would humbly like to suggest some commentary in light of previous

posts.

I think for a time, when I 'played' at religion, I found things that

justified what I already believed; I would point to it and say to

others, knowingly: ah, but you are wrong! You cannot comprehend my

wisdom, because I study from this ancient source!" or some other

vaguely plausible excuse, which may have been true in a few

instances, but mostly 'enabled' me to pawn off my beliefs on others,

and believe I was wise, which was important to me.

I believe one is responsible for their actions, however, and that

one cannot use the excuse of religion alone to justify their

actions: even when one is right, one carries the responsibility for

the beliefs they carry, and how they interpret and act on these in

life.
This puts one in the precarious postion sometimes, of realizing that

justification for things cannot be merely dogma, or wisdom that

cannot be comprehended, but must face up to the rigours of scrutiny,

challenges to both intuition, the intellect, and the heart -heaven,

earth, and man.

People would argue with my reasoning: sometimes I was at a loss for

words, and could not explain them properly - other times, I asked my

self the question, and plumbed the depths of my 'wisdom', and I came

up with 'nothing.' Sometimes, later, I would see a reasoning which

made sense: other times, I chose to reject my previous beliefs in

favour of something from one of the other three spheres. Other

times, I was left with a question that I could not answer, and I did

the only thing I could; I ignored it and buried it in the rest of my

life, where it sat, waiting to be understood. Sometimes, it would

become unburied, showing its teeth, forcing me to reject other

beliefs that made me feel comfortable, safe: wise.

There is truly ancient wisdom out there of great value, lost,

hidden, buried, some buried right under our noses, waiting for the

right set of circumstances and experiences to unlock them. Reading a

book alone is not wisdom: memorizing the words will not necessarily

increase your IQ in a meaningful way, I believe.

It starts with a question, and honest desire for the truth: a

question that is not easily satisfied, that is well asked: and a

desire that is excruciatingly sincere. When you wake up at night

because your easy answers cannot satisfy you: this too is part of

the path, I think.

So dare you question the ancient wisdom? Neither that should be held

sacred either, fearing it will lose its inner life, and meaning:

everything must be interpretted, to become personal, to be opened to

your inner life, to be unlocked truth must be lived - I feel. When

you interpret there will be errors; in those errors there will be

new truths, your truths. Sometimes, in time the context will be

revealed, and the original face of truth that was intended will

surface: but by then, you will have found many more.

Many of the deeper truths, let's call them universal truths, though

they may be one thing, can seem like many things, in many places in

time; your subjective truth, your experience, is a window, that sees

the surface, but not always the true nature of the contents. A

universal truth tries to express the nature of the whole thing,

simply, all at once. If you can subjectively only see one side of

it, you confuse one face as the whole of it. If you remember this

simple, universal 'name' given to a truth, and given experience, you

can relate the different aspects of one being to this 'name.' Many

lifetimes are given to find names for things that suit them - I find

that learning the names other seekers have given to their truths,

helps me see where mine fit in, helps me relate my experiences to

the truths I'm trying to find.

...contd
(Reply to this)(Thread)

Re: no-thing
onfeynyuan_shen
2007-07-17 06:44 am UTC (link)
Comment Posted Successfully
If you know yourself - which takes continuous returns to reflection

- then you can know your own truth. If you can face the 'nothing' -

not knowing, questions that defy your will to be chained; and you

learn to listen - not rejecting, not judging, but seeing other's

personal truths in the context and truth of their own lives and

perspectives - you can draw on many lifetimes of experiences, by

their names, and perhaps your study will be fruitful, instead of

merely a convenient blindfold that lets you see nothing and imagine

what you want. You must be willing to have your beliefs challenged:

be willing to challenge other beliefs: and to let your heart be

ruled by whichever seems closer to the truth. And... realize that

one days truths are tomorrows illusions to be shed: half-truths to

be improved upon.

Sorry, it is egotistical for me to say so much, as if I have studied

long or can see what others cannot given the same experiences and

interpretations. All I know is that I do not know, but I can see the

world and think about what I've seen, and if I like, to draw

conclusions.

Perhaps a last thing I would like to say, is: insight can come from

anywhere, at anytime: but taking the time to try and form and reform

your questions, can help you change your perspective, the way you

see. Ask is this blue. Ask is this not blue. Try to answer both

honestly, try to PROVE each true, try to find the flaws in your

answers. The TRUTH is, the answer depends on the QUESTION, and the

questioner: but do not be afraid if another answer comes to you

unbidden from a question to which it is not the answer.

So, I cannot say you must revere the ancient truths, and not treat

it like a game: because it is. Nor can I tell you to follow your own

truth, and ignore the worlds of others: for without them you stumble

blindly.

All I can do is nod, and smile, and say: I hope your questions bear

the fruit you are seeking.

m_G

re: news

2007-07-16T21:35:59Z

japanese earth quake, nuclear reactor
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19778870/?GT1=10150

death of the honeybee, problems with pollinization of crops
http://www.slate.com/id/2170305/?GT1=10238

Small things add up to big things.

Not sure what else I can say.

Naqsh I Sarmoun : I see the beginning of the end.-though the end is a new beginning.

the gurdjieff folk call it Sarmoung it seems...

m_g

michael on cnn

2007-07-10T05:03:59Z

http://www.crooksandliars.com/2007/07/09/michael-moore-demands-apology-from-wolf-blitzer/

This made my day

m_G

onfeynyuan_shen @ 2007-06-26T16:32:00

2007-06-26T20:35:14Z

I've been playing computer roleplaying lately; trying not to get too addicted.
It's pretty fun, but... I've been throwing myself off-schedule and maybe 'wasting' some time doing it, too.

I need to reflect on my priorities and goals, as I haven't been following them, or even paying much heed, to them.

m_G

joy

2007-06-26T20:32:39Z

If you find joy in another's smile, you may wear a thousand smiles at once; and shed a thousand tears when those smiles are torn away. People cut themselves off from one another in times of sorrow, not realizing that each tear shed in sorrow for another magnifies the joys when it is wiped away; people choose to feel deeply or not at all. When you do not feel, you become lost, and do not even know yourself. Rejoice when you find tears of joy; they are a sacred thing.

something that didn't get told...

2007-06-25T04:35:17Z

http://zanzou-chan.livejournal.com/356744.html

existence

2007-06-24T17:28:55Z

http://syndicated.livejournal.com/qotdrss/1566290.html

m_G

re: duke lacrosse case

2007-06-15T14:36:09Z

I'm tired of all these Duke Lacrosse players bullshit lies. They only offered DNA evidence, because they thought (correctly, it seems) that there would be no DNA left to match to them. If they really wanted to clear their names, they could have offered to take lie detector (polygraph) tests, which are highly accurate.

They are looking for a way to get off, and because they have money and the 'machine' is geared to help them, all the resources, like constant surveilance of phones and what is spoken, isn't being used to determine if they're guilty or not - they're looking the other way. This is OJ type bullshit. What kind of justice is their in the states? The tobacco/cigarette industry may be losing money in north america, so they are going to the third world to get people addicted, doing better than ever. Why aren't we stepping in and saying this is wrong, you will pay for it? Everyone knows it's wrong now. But it just goes on and on. 'Replacement smokers' means children, since most older smokers don't go back to it - they know better. We are sick as a society - and partly, it is because of who we follow as leaders, and what is necessary to become a leader in our societies.

heheh

2007-06-09T18:47:46Z

stolen from WWdN:

http://xkcd.com/c274.html

rock on!

hmm not just the republicans: American Democrat lies---

2007-06-09T17:21:47Z

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7raAL3Wld0&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Ecrooksandliars%2Ecom%2F

The bad news, is the american people aren't really being given a choice. The good news is, the veil of lies held in front of their faces is crumbling, and soon the truth will be naked for all to see...

m_G

game

2007-05-29T21:14:45Z

This is stuff from Peter's game, that I'm playing in.

10th level characters netted 4000XP this session.
11th level characters got 3500XP.

Treasure was divied up this session: 6540gp each (including absent characters, if you want it, Simon)
Other treasure was gained later in the session which was not divided yet.

Does Warren Trulaine's cohort get a share of the treasure we gain?

-----

Session Summary - Enter Westgate

Rules were discussed, some discussion about goals, what the characters wanted to do next. Saevel is in Evermeet, (private session with GM) (ooc - spells are cast to divine future, scry time usurper (horrific vesuthant) and something is learned... which Saevel does not yet reveal to the whole party (Tim, could you make a note of this somewhere, for future reference? What happened there, I mean?) Saevel returns to Suzail Two days later, after others in the party have taken care of various errands (+ what happened last session in this time) Treasure was divvied: Illel bought the Blue? Ioun stone of str +2 and amulet of health +2, Warren bought the +2 adamantine warhammer of constructbane for Justine the cleric of Tyr (his cohort) and Illel took the Holy Water of the Dead netherese Sun Diety Amantaur (sp?) for safe keeping (she specifically requested to: Alohgra complained the party shouldn't let her, because she would throw it at undead like regular holy water or something, but no-one else had a problem in the general vote when I checked with everyone)

Illel mentions wanting to return to Evermeet on urgent personal business at some point in the near future, needs Saevel's help to get there.

Day 1 in Westgate-

The party prepares to leave for Westgate, and teleports the next day a little ways outside the gates to the city. Trulaine of Tyr speaks with guards, and he and his servant are allowed passage beyond the gates. The rest of the party (?with Saevel in drag- I mean, disguise) are then addressed by the guards, asked their names and business. Wizard + floating large-sized great sword behind him = conspicuous, but Saevel doesn't like Illel's BRILLIANT suggestion to put an 'apocalypse cloak' on it and pretend it is a servant/bodyguard of some sort. Oh Peter, maybe you would have liked this idea better... he should give the sword an umbrella that makes everything dark under it to conceal it, instead (...forshadowing/ suspense oooh!) The guards mistake the group for (though perhaps later, this becomes true...) a 'team' of people come for the 'tournament' at the 'colliseum' in Westgate. Morgan inquires about this, hmm no actually it was some amusing roleplaying at the time but I don't remember it well... but he basically said we were. We were asked who our sponsor was, and we said we didn't have one yet, and I think it was at this point that we learned that to participate in the tournament, you need a sponsor. Then the group is let to enter without further harrasment.

Notes on tournament: 6 member teams, 4 can fight, 50000gp to enter (sponsor pays?) + 25000gp for true res that party pays. Fights may not be tiered for our level. Starts in two months time, party can't surrender until at least one person has died.

The party finds an inn near the entry gates - Saevel isn't satisfied with the low-quality and finds an upscale Inn on the eastern side of westgate closer to the market square, and Warren, Justine and Morgan follow suit, getting their own expensive (20gp/day) rooms (satisfactory to store items in, high security, and where Saevel can work on crafting the upgrade to his headband of intellect) while Alogra and Illel get cheapie rooms at the other inn. Oh, the weather was cold, it is the equivalent of 'mid decemberish' and the weather of the day was snow. Morgan, Justine and Warren and alohgra do gather info checks, Illel does hers separately. The party learns more about the tournament, including rules (Tim made notes - tim, could you post those please, or copy them so I or someone else can post the rules/details?), and the group learns of a House Urdo having caravan troubles with Dwarves - apparently they are transporting silk and other trade goods that dwarves don't usually care about (mithral?) and these are being stolen. It is possible to get a tour of the colliseum which is almost built, if we want, for 1000gp per two people who go.

Illel finds out that among the rogues and assasins of Westgate, there have been mysterious deaths in the city, which is being kept quiet but has put their associated guilds on alert. The deaths were particularly brutal and the guilds don't want this information to get out - also, they may be competing somewhat for the prestige of being the ones to kill whoever did it.

Group meets for dinner and discusses what they've learned.

Alohgra does a sending to Grayger for Illel; he replies saying he doesn't have any contacts in Westgate, and to pick up a message he left for her in Suzail in a certain box.

Day 2 in Westgate -

Morgan and Warren and Justine go to see Lord Urdo at his house: they are instead directed to the caravan master, and Warren and Justine leave at this point, while Morgan goes in, and learns of the job to investigate the attacks, and stop them, (the dwarves? who are preying on the caravans?) - when discussed at lunch, it is argued that one of the goals should be to find out if the ones doing some of these acts in town are in fact good or evil - Illel mentions there is a fine distinction between evil and chaos, and whether people are privateers vs pirates (stealing from the evil to stop their machinations as per "Crow Shadow" commentary).

Illel wants to scout out the neighbourhood during the day, and Alohgra wants to search out portals in the city, so they travel together during the morning, getting an idea of some places. Alohgra find a portal at a temple of cyric (from outside) and discerns that the portal leads to the plane of the Supreme Throne (Cyrics' plane?) and that the portal would strip the items from one who passed through possibly sending them somewhere different.

Illel mentions she wants to find a guide to tell them about the place, as well as witnesses to the freak murders going on, and to check out the areas where things happened, to see if we could get any more information about the perpetrators of the crime. The group had agreed to pay for this as a whole, so Illel spreads some money around in seeking a guide for this, while together with Alohgra they searched for a guide. They find one, but he wants to go immediately, and fears for his life. He wants to leave in five minutes - Illel and Alohgra step aside to discuss whether or not it is a trap - he wants to go immediately, which is at night, and Westgate is a dangerous place... They decide to go ahead and do it, pay his 300gp price up front (got renumerated by the party for some of this later) and take a tour of Westgate's Shadowy side. Meanwhile, I think Saevel may have been crafting or casting some spells (guys, wanna fill in the blanks here? If we can fix this up, we can repost a mostly correct version...).

The group was told about three murders, at three different locations in the docks.

About a month ago, during the new moon, in the Dhostar sheds in the north west of Westgate, the elite drow assasin known as 'White Death' was murdered in the dead of night. Her body was found, with two iron spikes driven through her shoulder blades, pinning her up to a wall, and the bottom of her face and jaw were removed. Illel found 'White Death's' tracks, but none of her assailant. Whoever did it was so skilled as to leave no trace or witnesses.

Approximately two tenday (weeks) ago (Peter, is it a month between lunar cycles? Or Simon? Would that make it a full moon this night?) a human was found murdered on the penisula of westgate that juts out into the inner sea, near the center line and most Northern point in Westgate, in a docks district. He was known as a human caravan master (smuggler?) and like the others, he, too, was killed in the dead of night, with no tracks left by the killer. He was nailed up to a wall upside down by his ankles, one iron spike in each, the bottom of his face/mouth removed, and a single spike driven through the top of his head into the wall. Like the previous location, Alohgra was not able to find any residual traces of magic with detect magic at this location.

One ten-day ago, the most recent killing had taken place. It was a gnome informant, who Illel and Alohgra were told, kept tabs on the goings on in Westgate. (Don't remember entirely what was done to him) His entire head was missing when he was found. He was found by a couple warehouses right near a dock a few hundred feet from the East gate of Westgate, overlooking the harbour.

***

Day 3, Westgate
The next morning the group meets up at the expensive inn, privately in a one of the groups rooms for breakfast and to discuss what to do next. Saevel mentions the results of his legend lore spell (which were? I don't remember O_O; )
People decide to do stuff, Illel says she thinks based on some of her actions that some of the illicit guilds may make a move, contact the party somehow (in a postive or negative way, she could not say).

Alohgra patrols further parts of the city looking for portals, and finds none. Illel shops at some Apothecary shops. She finally finds what she is looking for (4hours a day for 10 days, 800gp, 80/day). While walking down a street on her errand, Illel is mysteriously 'tripped'. She checks her pockets, and finds a note that wasn't there before. It was from the Drow Assasin White Death; she wanted to meet at a location in the Dhostar Sheds before sundown.

Illel finds Alohgra, and the two of them return to the others' inn, where they eventually find them, and tell them of the developments. They make preparations for the meeting, preparing disguise self, and walking separately, so Illel and Alohgra together, and the rest disguised (magically) as roguish humanoids. One with a giant sword floating behind him.

The group meets with White Death, although Warren is hesitant to enter at first, for some reason (he did have undetectable alignment on him though). She explains (I forget some stuff here) that the three murdered people were members of various guilds, and that 'someone' was probably trying to send a message to the guilds - that 'it' could strike at any one of them, at any time, and there was nothing they could do about it. She said the guilds were going to handle it, and didn't want us to persist inquiring about it, although if somehow we ended up ending the menace, that probably wouldn't be a problem.

The group begins to discuss various things among themselves; White Death leaves, and just to be safe, the group leaves the basement of the building where they met, to discuss issues elsewhere... Morgan and Saevel suggest we let 'trouble' find us - some of the rest of the group (Illel and Alohgra) are somewhat hesistant about staying out at night until trouble finds us, without prior preparation, but the group on a whole agrees, and 4 hours into the night of wandering the city, a demon-like creature seems to be summoned before the party in flash of purple flame (?s-dash? ). It is a four armed large sized winged humanoid outsider, which we later discover is called a Nycoloth? (like a yugoloth but neither demon nor devil) We also learn it has dr 10/good, and is immune to most forms of elemental damage - fire, electricity, cold, and has spell resistance. A second one appears behind the party formation; next to Illel, near Saevel, who, after successfully casting 'unluck' on it, asks that someone hold that one off for a time, and have everyone else focus on the other Nickeloth, while he stops this one.
Illel is hit, rages and strikes back at it, doing minimal damage to it, only beating it's DR by a few hitpoints. Morgan begins to panic when he realizes none of his weapons are capable of doing any significant damage, and doesn't continue to fight. The paladin and his cohort cast some buffs spells, the Master of Swords casts align weapon on itself and attacks the unlucked nikeloth with smites. Meanwhile, Illel stay toe to toe with the Nikeloth and is getting severely injured, so the other Nikeloth the rest of the group is fighting greater teleports to her, flanking her, to focus on killing just her. She lets people know she needs healing, and Alohgra moves in to cure crit her, drawing an aoo, but they focus on Illel, wanting a kill. Illel has moved into flanking, and did more damage against the new Nikeloth, but is hoping to retreat with Alohgra soon, knowing he has a dimension door and can get them away for a bit to heal up. However, Saevel has another plan, and tells those who are wounded to stand near him, so Illel makes an attack, and then tumbles out of reach of the Nikeloths to stand near the wizard. Although the Master of Swords is having no trouble hurting the Nikeloths, noone else is doing significant damage to them. Saevel casts a resilient sphere, encapsulating much of the party, Illel drinks a potion and is cured some hp, so she won't die when her rage ends, but Alohgra is left between the two Nikeloths alone, while much of the party is trapped behind the wall of force, unable to help him. Alohgra decides retreat is better than death, and dimension doors to safety. Saevel summons a hound archon to help fight, and The Sword slays one of the Nikeloths. The last Nikeloth lays into the Paladin, but after seeing him not near death after its round of attacks, with the Master of swords turning on it, and the rest of the party preparing to drop the resilient sphere and attack again, it retreats using magic, disappearing from sight. From somewhere high above drops a pouch, which contains a few thousand in gems, and a note, which we believe is in White Death's hand, which says 'thanks for doing all the work for me'.

--end of session--

Legacy of the Drow - of Shadows and Nightmares

The smell of burning flesh was acrid in the air, the screams of men and women piercing red flame lit night, souls were crying out in agony and despair.

Illel could see her mother, turning towards her, reaching back towards her, with a look on her face that said 'help me', while Illel reached out towards her with one arm, but was frozen in fear, as two Drow, laughing wickedly, yanked her by the arms and pulled her away forcefully.

Suddenly everything was dark, and quiet, and Illel's chest tightened with a sense of impending doom. A white haired, dark skinned female drow with violet eyes whose gaze pierced Illel to the very core peered at her from behind a white mask. "So how does it feel, now that you've killed her?" the Drow said with a mocking, evil laugh as Illel looked down, with a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach, as she look down to see the lifeless body of her mother dishevelled beneath her grasping hands, eyes emptily staring back at Illel.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHhhhh!" Illel screamed shrilly as she leaped up from her bed with a start, instinctively pulling the silver blade of the dagger she kept beneath her pillow noiselessly out of its sheath. Her hair was dishevelled, in her face and soaked with sweat, her night clothes clinging to her body tightly. She put her face in her hands, then realized the dagger, and the wet on her face from the tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

As she was putting the dagger away, Illel heard shouts in the hall, and she pulled the blade free again with a start as a great blade came smashing through the door to her room, breaking the door into pieces as a tall human in night clothes wielding a greatsword forced his way into the room.

"What's going on!" Alohgra shouted, scanning the darkened room for enemies, a glimmer of light off of Illel's silver dagger catching his eye. He looked over at her, seeing her tears. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Sorry," Illel said quietly, her wet cheeks glistening in the light from the door, "it was just a dream..."

Alohgra lowered his sword and took a seat on the end of the bed, his face revealing an expression of sympathy as he tried to show his support. By now, other patrons of the inn were hesitantly peering in through the wreckage of the door, somewhat fearfully eyeing Alohgra's massive blade, as Illel waved them off and told them everything was all right. The inn keeper moved into view at the door, with a hefty looking man wielding a broadblade, and once Illel embarrassingly assured him everything was all right, he offered her another room until they repaired the door (the price of which would be added to their bill, he slipped in unobtrusively). Then all was quiet again, and Alohgra helped grab a few of Illel's things as she brought them to the other room, pulling her clinging night clothes from her body self-consciously as an inn hand who was eyeing her questioningly guided her to the new room.

"It must have been quite the dream," Alohgra offered with a half-chuckle, trying to lighten the mood as Illel settled the last of her things away. She sat cross-legged on the middle of the bed, brushing her hair from her face to either side with both her hands, as Alohgra took a seat on a stool next to the nightstand, near the lamp that was providing a dim yellow glow. Wind blew outside the shuttered windows, and a slight draft of chill air blew through them , making the light and shadows in the room dance.

"It was a nightmare. I have them all the time... There were things that happened when I was younger. With the Drow." She hesitated, brushing aside some uncomfortable thoughts that came unbidden.
"I thought I had them under control. I I... I didn't realize how shaken up things lately had made me. That meeting with White Death... I guess it unburried some feelings I'd put away."

Alohgra nodded, and bid her to continue as she looked at him hesitantly.
"My whole clan was massacred when I ... I don't even know how old I was... I was a baby, in Elven years... The things they did..." tears began to stream from her eyes, and her voice strained and broke.
"Sorry, I don't mean to... I can't help it," she sobbed quietly.

"It's OK, Illel... there are some things you should be sad about. I would be sad too..." he let his words trail off into silence.

"I'm still afraid of them, terrified of them, hate them sooo much!" she said with passion, "but I know it's not fair to you guys. I let it get to me, when that Nycoloth attacked me, I just lost it..." Her words trailed off, as she wiped away her tears, that had mostly stopped now. Then I panicked when they surrounded me, and you had to heal me, and stand there trying to draw them to attack you, and I ran away and hid behind the wizard's shielding spell while they all attacked you...!" Guilt and torment played across her face, and tears threatened to flow forth again.

"I don't know if it was fate, or luck, but things could have worked out very badly... you were able to dimension door away in the nick of time... the last Nycoloth chose to retreat..."

"You would do the same for me," Alohgra said calmly, reassuringly placing a hand on her knee, then pulled his hand away quickly, feeling awkward and noticing her body too closely. Illel smiled weakly, understanding his good intentions.

They sat for several minutes in the quiet, in thought. Then Alohgra began to stand, saying, "I better go. I'll see you bright and early, after my morning prayers," he said, his holy symbol of Shaundakul shining in the lamp light.

"Al, I have things to do to prepare for the fight ahead," she said, seeming a little conflicted about what to share. "I need to go to Evermeet, and seek counsel and aid..." She fingered the holy symbol she wore, next to the necklace with a silvery acorn on it; a broken arrow over a tear, the sign of the elven god Shevarash. "From Shevarash, or Rilifane Ralathil, or whichever of the Seldarine that will help me..." she trailed off.

"I won't keep letting the people close to me down anymore!" she declared more passionately. No, not like that time when all she could do was watch her whole family get massacred. "I will seek the power to fight against Evil. I'm going to become stronger!" She spoke loudly, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him, but there was a calm, steady resolve behind her words that gave them strength.

"Goodnight Illel," Alohgra said as he blew out the lamp, walked quietly to the door, locked it with the spare key she had given him, and left. She scrambled under the covers, more to feel enclosed than for any warmth, and stared up at the ceiling, before making herself a promise.
"I will become stronger," she said quietly, and meant it with her whole being.

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Does anybody (Dave in this one) mind me using their characters in stories a little? Huh huh?

Michael

Illel story snippet:

~has nightmare in the night and screams, alohgra busts in the door with greatsword *wearing nightclothes*... she tells him of the dreams of her past, nightmares about Drow killing people horribly, reveals that she was shaken up more than she realized by meeting the drow assasin... she still fears and hates drow, but she thought they wouldn't have this kind of effect on her, apologizes for losing it and flying into a rage and nearly dying and risking everyone else's lives and making everyone have to come to her rescue, and Alogra nearly dying, when she had to retreat to Saevel's protection spell when she was severely wounded... Realizing how close to death she may have been... fate or luck may have been on their side, but it could have ended very differently. She cries quietly and then later says she has things to do to prepare for the fight ahead, that she is going to go to Evermeet and seek counsel and aid (from the temple of) Shevarash and Rilifane Ralathil.
She won't keep letting the people close to her down anymore. Not like that time, when all she could do was watch her whole family get massacred. She will seek the power to fight back against Evil, and become stronger.

m_G

viral the poem

2007-05-29T21:10:10Z

Unified Field Theory Of Conspiracies - By Holly Avila

Hurricane scalar weather wars
Lying media corporate whores.
A missile, no plane hits the Pentagon
and all video evidence quickly is gone
World Trade Center basement explosions,
covered by shocked, patriotic emotions.
Burning jet fuel cannot melt steel.
Silverstein's billion dollar insurance deal.
Box cutter phony hijack distraction,
Blind war mongering knee jerk reaction.
Grieving mother's sincere protestation,
Royal Saudi business infestation.
Bush livin' easy high on the hog,
Like some ass kissing Illuminati lap dog.
Jeff Gannon's frequent White House sleep-overs,
CIA drug running under the covers
Clinton's lucky Bilderburg breakfast,
Hillary's new pearl choker necklace.
Arkansas' hidden covert air strips
Triangle shaped flying space ships.
MK delta and the Montauk boys
Bush Sr's secret little boy toys
Microbiologist suicides
H5N1 genocide.
Verichip mandatory national ID
Mind and mood control technology.
Starvation and torture at Guantanamo Bay
For democracy and the American Way.
Haliburton and Carlyle Group doing well,
Liberty and justice going to hell.
The truth can still set us free,
I'm just the messenger, don't shoot me!