Gwnewch y pethau bychain

Month: September 2005 Page 1 of 2

Pop Songs as interpeted by Thor

Seen on a mailing list:

Wherein, you shall find stuff like:

Yon renowned fellow, let us kick it
Ho, everyone, cease, I prithee listen
Thor hath returned with a new invention
Something taketh hold of me most tight
Floweth like a harpoon day and night
Shall it ever end? I doth not know
Conjure the darkness and I shall glow
To great measure, mine voice is as a vandal
Brighten mine surroundings and snuff a life as though ’twere a candle
Yon mystic dance doth boom like a storm in motion
I bring death upon thee as like a black potion
Lethal, when I doth serenade thee
For any lesser tune wouldst be a travesty
Art thy affections roused, or dost thou flee?
Thou shouldst aim well, lest I forsake thee
If there be any ill, I shalt resolve it
Look thee upon mine hook while mine DJ revolves it


Ooh, mine beloved, knowest thou what that be worth?
Ooh, Valhalla art a place on Earth.
The minstrels sing that in Valhalla, love comes first
Thou makest Valhalla a place on Earth.
Ooh, Valhalla art a place on Earth.

EDIT: Due to confusion, I’ll point out that this is a pastiche of the Marvel Comics rendition of Thor, in which Stan Lee puts a high school production of Shakespeare through a blender on puree.

Today’s special

Two memes for the price of one. First, from tigerbright

Fun with Doctors (Part n)

More blathering about my health, behind a cut-tag so you can skip past if that bores you. 🙂

You can’t take the sky from me…

The meme du jour asks me to post a Firefly quote in my LJ. So, here it is:

Simon: Are you always this sentimental?

Mal: Had a good day.

Simon: You had the Alliance on you, criminals and savages… half the people on the ship have been shot or wounded–including yourself–and you’re harboring known fugitives.

Mal: We’re still flying.

Simon: That’s not much.

Mal: It’s enough.

The week behind, the week ahead.

I’ve been a bit lax lately about updating this journal with “what’s going on with Rob” stuff of late. This is partly because of late, life hasn’t been all *that* interesting, and in part because other stresses keeping me from really wrapping my mind around writing here. But, since part of the point of this journal is to keep folks updated with what’s going on with me, I’m going to try and do a bit better.

Shakespeare Meme

Seen various places, first from vampry:

when you see this, post a quote from Shakespeare on your journal.

I’ll tell thee what, prince; a college of witcrackers cannot flout me out of my humour. Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram? No; if a man will be beaten with brains, a’ shall wear nothing handsome about him. In brief, since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it, for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.
–Much Ado About Nothing

Turn Your Hamster Into a Fighting Machine

Courtesy of . a guide everyone is sure to find useful:

Turn Your Hamster Into a Fighting Machine!

I think it’s the “Troubleshooting Tips” that really makes it.

The Tiniest Bit

Normally, I love reading Hollis Gillespie’s columns in Creative Loafing becuase of her unique and quirky sense of humour and the strange characters that seem to populate her life. But this week, she actually hit me with something so simple and profound i had to share it:

You wonder about the world, the sorrow and loss, how lasting that is, how thick and insurmountable it seems, and then you see puppies. And then you remember how an elderly gentleman once danced in the street with a kindhearted cleaning lady – held her in his arms like the perfect daffodil that she was – and you remember the beauty of that, the aching grace of that, and suddenly you realize the tiniest bit is enough. The tiniest bit flavors the rest.

The whole column is here. It’s worth your time.

The Archipelago of Weird

celticdragonfly points to a lovely entry entitled “Psychodrama, Surrealism, and the Archipelago of Weird”

Culture, in the part of the world in which I’ve been, and, for all I know, in other parts as well to which I cannot speak, has two rough parts: the Mainland and the Isles.

The Mainland is what calls itself the “mainstream” or “normal” culture.

You know… Mundania.

The Isles are everything else. Everything that’s not “mainstream” is an island.

Nobody knows how many Isles there are. They are wholly and utterly unmapped. Each one is its own subculture.

Some Isles are closer to the Mainland, and some further.

Some Isles are closer to others. Some are big. Some are small.

We — meaning I and a very large percentage of my readership — live in a collection of close Isles which form up an Archipelago. The SCA. Fandom. NERO. Etc.

This is the Archipelago of Weird.


One of the things that makes the Mainland, the Mainland, is that Mainlanders do not and need not know anything about the Isles. For the vast majority of them, the Isles are something out of myth or legend, if they’ve even heard of them at all. And Mainlanders don’t much care for myths and legends. If they know anything, it is usually a hash of fantasy and exception, stirred into a thick slurry of dread of the alien. Insofar as they are aware of them, the Isles are not safe to their minds; they are seen as breeding places of all sorts of malevolent forces. What kind of a lunatic would live in such a barbarous place? Surely such a person must have something wrong with them — the defective and the fugitive.

The Islanders generally think of the Mainland as dirty, crowded, tacky, and morally impoverished. (Which is not to suggest that all Isles have the same notions of moral rectitude or aesthetic taste. Far from it. They merely seem to all agree that that’s what the Mainland lacks.) Many Islanders are refugees and refusniks from the Mainland, but on many Isles there are substantial populations of native-born Islanders. All Islanders know about the Mainland. It’s big and hard to miss; it has enormous economic might. Islanders, being in a minority, know far more about Mainlanders — and far more accurately — than vice versa. Many Islanders generally like to think (charitably, they feel) that Mainlanders can be educated; if you give a Mainlander good food, good drink, and a good native lay, they’ll realize what they’ve been missing.

Go read it. It’s good stuff.

Happiness is…

…spending several hours of the evening giving a pretty girl a massage while watching The Muppet Show on DVD.

Life is good.

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