For two days now I've had strange and horrific nightmares, most of which I forget upon waking. It seems to be happening to my mate also, and now I'm going to keep a close eye on the cats when they wake up to see if they share my disorientation and confusion (since it's hard to tell if a cat woke up drenched in chilled sweat).
Yesterday, I thought I'd take a short nap on the couch. An hour and a half later, I wake up scared (for no apparent reason), very groggy and tired, soaked in fear sweat, and the best part? My face hurt like I'd been screaming. I suspect a dinosaur dream. Those bastards are terrifying anyway.
Last night, the parts I can remember are disturbing, though in the light of day they just seem odd. I'm sure I was freaking out in the dream though, because the feeling carried over into waking and lasted about a half hour. It had something to do with my mate and his brother (the good one), and I was supposed to be knitting his brother some Bayerische socks (which is pretty chilling, having narrowly survived my own experience with making a pair for myself), and my mate was trying to help with my second job, and so was watching a live action Rainbow Brite movie (which seemed good, but I was too busy being chased by some unnamed horror to stop and watch). He kept trying to fill me in on what was happening, while remaining completely oblivious to the danger I was trying to elude. I think he ended up reviewing the movie or something, but I just remember running for my life, thinking "I hope we get to keep that so I can watch it if I live" and then my dad rammed a red truck through the wall into the living room and was bent on destruction.
I thankfully can't remember my dreams from the night before, but I do remember knowing I'd had a nightmare. Even this morning, when saying goodbye to my mate, he admitted I'd woken him up before the police arrested and accused him of the murder of someone who'd lived in the (currently nonexistent) sub-basement of his childhood home, in a haunted silent-hill version of the town we grew up in.
If it happens again tonight, I'm considering going to the apartment office and asking them to test the air for carbon monoxide or something.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Pigamahorse
I am a horse, or at least, I am vaguely horse-shaped. Now that you look at it though, it does seem that my legs are kind of spindly and my body is very fat, like a pig, or a very fat scotty dog.
I am jumping, which means my ability to be safely displayed on a wobbly table has been significantly decreased. Yay!
My head, unlike most large domestic quadrapeds, is able to reach my (thankfully nonexistant) genitals.
There is nothing directly wrong with me, except that my glass eyes (like all my siblings, here) are attached to the sides of my head and are distinctly NOT a part of my face. Also, they are visibly uneven from side to side. Boo.
What is that smell? Did I step in something? I'll just heft my FOOT to my SNOUT to see. Yep, I definitely stepped in something smelly.
I am a chimera. My body is that of a pigahorse, and my neck is that of a snake.
I'm fat, but happy. I'm what happened when Wilbur met a horse and fell in love. This is a horse-ish face on a pig body. With a rooster tail. I am Lj's favorite as a result.
I am sloth-horse. My eye is drippy on this side, and I am laying down. Which didn't prevent my foot/psuedopod from breaking off. If only I looked more like a cow..
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Copywank
So, I'm having problems reconciling some ideas about artist protection with my appreciation of a finished product.
In short, sometimes artists who would dislike the current copyright systems create some awesome things. Like this:
I get the distinct impression that while this artist would prefer that her work be completely free to anyone and everyone.
However, (and I might not have considered this if it hadn't been so diligently detailed online) since the work above involved using some works belonging to others (in the past, or through various legal issues, etc), it made me strongly consider what would happen if all artistic works were free to anyone with access to them.
On the one hand, you could achieve worldwide exposure in days, which would be pretty awesome. And some pretty cool stuff could be created. Without any contact, hundreds of creative ideas from different could be flawlessly joined into works of art.
On the other, and this is the side that I find myself aligned with, by freeing your work from copyright, you are making it very difficult to profit from your hours and hours of labor and inspiration. It would be fine if it was a personal choice. If I, for instance, chose to create fantastic paintings and encourage others to view my work through any means convenient to them, either from free viewings, to downloaded scans. However, if the expectation spreads, if the world begins to expect entertainment for free, I think it would be extremely hard for anyone to support themselves through their artistic work.
My work has value, and I'd rather have the credit and profit from it than allow everyone to have access to it. It's probably a very bourgois(sp?) idea, but I like it. Demand can create value as well.
(This is partially why I get upset on Ravelry when someone says "I like pattern X, but don't want to pay anything for it. Is there a similar pattern for free that someone can point me to, because SIGHT LITERALLY UNSEEN I feel that the designer is asking too much." I also chuckle happily when a designer restricts pattern distribution to a hard copy via mail.)
In short, sometimes artists who would dislike the current copyright systems create some awesome things. Like this:
I get the distinct impression that while this artist would prefer that her work be completely free to anyone and everyone.
However, (and I might not have considered this if it hadn't been so diligently detailed online) since the work above involved using some works belonging to others (in the past, or through various legal issues, etc), it made me strongly consider what would happen if all artistic works were free to anyone with access to them.
On the one hand, you could achieve worldwide exposure in days, which would be pretty awesome. And some pretty cool stuff could be created. Without any contact, hundreds of creative ideas from different could be flawlessly joined into works of art.
On the other, and this is the side that I find myself aligned with, by freeing your work from copyright, you are making it very difficult to profit from your hours and hours of labor and inspiration. It would be fine if it was a personal choice. If I, for instance, chose to create fantastic paintings and encourage others to view my work through any means convenient to them, either from free viewings, to downloaded scans. However, if the expectation spreads, if the world begins to expect entertainment for free, I think it would be extremely hard for anyone to support themselves through their artistic work.
My work has value, and I'd rather have the credit and profit from it than allow everyone to have access to it. It's probably a very bourgois(sp?) idea, but I like it. Demand can create value as well.
(This is partially why I get upset on Ravelry when someone says "I like pattern X, but don't want to pay anything for it. Is there a similar pattern for free that someone can point me to, because SIGHT LITERALLY UNSEEN I feel that the designer is asking too much." I also chuckle happily when a designer restricts pattern distribution to a hard copy via mail.)
Monday, March 29, 2010
WTF, subconscious?
It seems that somehow I have come into the possession of a human head. Dried/preserved, with only minimal bones remaining, and fragile as hell. It has reddish hair, thought it's so old that determining whether the color is natural or some sort of dye is impossible. There are markings on the underside of the skull-ish thing, and while I'm wandering around with this creepy thing, trying to decide why I have it and what the symbols might mean, someone tries to take it.
So I stash it in my room, which is my parent's old room at the house I grew up in.
Moving on, and still encountering a lot of people I know in real life, all of whom have either no advice or assistance to give re: THE HEAD, I realize that there is a second, smaller, shrunken head that I need to get to decipher the first one, which suddenly seems to portend an apocalyptic event of some kind. Also, my subconscious has decided that this comes from some Mesopotamian culture, but my vocabulary only offers "Mayan" despite the inaccuracy of that label.
So now I'm searching along a riverbank for the second head, and when I do come across it, I am surprised that the "shrunken" head is actually a pretty decent size. Like a honeydew melon or biggish cantaloupe. And then the weird authority thing shows up again and demands the head. I am forced to hand it over, but not before I scratch/force my hand into the brain pan from underneath (AARGH! GROSS! CRUMBLY DEAD HEAD GERMS!) and wrap my fist around something smaller and bumpy (AARGH! IT'S SHAPED LIKE A CALCIFIED BRAIN! WHY?!) and remove it to my pocket before handing over the crumbling remains of the head. It/he looks at the hole, and I shrug and go my way.
Back at mi childhood casa, my brain decides that I shouldn't have to go through the obvious next step of deciphering the markings using the key on the brain, so we skip all that and the current apocalypse is averted. For this year. And the final message was "The red-headed person will be killed." Creepy, but still, averted so no danger here. So now my brain tells me in retrospect that a rapper was traveling in South America/Africa (hey, it starts with "A" and it's big and I've been awake for a while now so it's not as sharp as it could've been.) and he sent me the head.
And then my cell phone rings and the i.d. says "Anubis" and I think "oh. Maybe this is the rapper?" but it is an airline calling to confirm my trip next year to the country of head origin, presumably prompted by the powers behind the crumbly skull messages.
I actually, in my dream, dithered about going, but decided that since I'm dreaming, I probably won't really have to go on that trip.
So if we all die next year, my bad.
So I stash it in my room, which is my parent's old room at the house I grew up in.
Moving on, and still encountering a lot of people I know in real life, all of whom have either no advice or assistance to give re: THE HEAD, I realize that there is a second, smaller, shrunken head that I need to get to decipher the first one, which suddenly seems to portend an apocalyptic event of some kind. Also, my subconscious has decided that this comes from some Mesopotamian culture, but my vocabulary only offers "Mayan" despite the inaccuracy of that label.
So now I'm searching along a riverbank for the second head, and when I do come across it, I am surprised that the "shrunken" head is actually a pretty decent size. Like a honeydew melon or biggish cantaloupe. And then the weird authority thing shows up again and demands the head. I am forced to hand it over, but not before I scratch/force my hand into the brain pan from underneath (AARGH! GROSS! CRUMBLY DEAD HEAD GERMS!) and wrap my fist around something smaller and bumpy (AARGH! IT'S SHAPED LIKE A CALCIFIED BRAIN! WHY?!) and remove it to my pocket before handing over the crumbling remains of the head. It/he looks at the hole, and I shrug and go my way.
Back at mi childhood casa, my brain decides that I shouldn't have to go through the obvious next step of deciphering the markings using the key on the brain, so we skip all that and the current apocalypse is averted. For this year. And the final message was "The red-headed person will be killed." Creepy, but still, averted so no danger here. So now my brain tells me in retrospect that a rapper was traveling in South America/Africa (hey, it starts with "A" and it's big and I've been awake for a while now so it's not as sharp as it could've been.) and he sent me the head.
And then my cell phone rings and the i.d. says "Anubis" and I think "oh. Maybe this is the rapper?" but it is an airline calling to confirm my trip next year to the country of head origin, presumably prompted by the powers behind the crumbly skull messages.
I actually, in my dream, dithered about going, but decided that since I'm dreaming, I probably won't really have to go on that trip.
So if we all die next year, my bad.
Monday, March 8, 2010
I have all the restraint of a....thing with no restraint.
I am trying, world. Seriously. I am attempting to not crow about the silly inter-office drama that is currently overtaking my own life, but it is so gosh darned amusing!
And the characters! They're right out of a bizarre reality show with archetypes from the 1960's nostalga crap AND RuPaul's Drag Race. It's fantastic!
Also, I'm not a bad storyteller, so I naturally want to run with the one story I get that requires no embellishment to get the dropped jaws and shocked gasps my inner extrovert so desperately craves.
Must. Not. Poke. The. Crazy.
And the characters! They're right out of a bizarre reality show with archetypes from the 1960's nostalga crap AND RuPaul's Drag Race. It's fantastic!
Also, I'm not a bad storyteller, so I naturally want to run with the one story I get that requires no embellishment to get the dropped jaws and shocked gasps my inner extrovert so desperately craves.
Must. Not. Poke. The. Crazy.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Circle of Life
It's interesting to see what moral allowances will be made for the sake of convenience and expediency. That extra donut in your twelve-pack? I'm damn sure you won't go back to the bakery to report it and pay $0.12.
In our case, we've decided that our personal convenience far outweighs the betta fish's right to mental stability and calm. The cat now takes his meds with much more aplomb, due almost entirely to the presence of a fishtank within inches of his face.
That thin plastic, with the tantalizing moving thing on the other side...hey guys! The moving thing not only moves, but it reacts to my frantic scratching and reaching! Ouch! What did you do!? That's...uncomfortable...and I think I'm pissed at you, so I'll sulk. But not off the counter. I'll just sit here and sulk...where I can see that moving thing...so angry...so...wha?...hey! hey you moving thing!!
He'll even stay on the counter for the anti-leak circular rubbing motion just below his hump, so long as nothing obstructs his view of the fish. Now, he'll even leap on the stovetop hours after his treatment, seeking to slap at a fishtank, and he'll purr atop the counter (in hopes of the sudden appearance of a fishtank?). Regardless of his motivations, this new attitude to countertop activity is very welcome.
I justify it like this:
Fish: Very cheap, in purchase, lifestyle, and upkeep. Not very affectionate. Short life span, even in the best of conditions. Decorative, but not cuddle-able, and can only provide limited companionship from atop the bedroom dresser. Other placement locations will immediately result in the cat bothering the fish, causing stress, and annoying the humans with slapping sounds.
Cat: More expensive in all aspects, but more rewarding socially. Decorative and cuddly, while amusing humans in all areas of the house. Longer lifespan possiblities necessitate the administration of fluids, which necessitates the scheduled use of the fish as entertainment for the cat.
Fish: About $37 for several years of upkeep and supplies.
Ten minutes of excitement/exercise for the fish in exchange for 10 minutes of calm from the cat: Priceless
Besides: I read somewhere that betta fish who were regularly challenged by a lab tech and chased around their tank daily lived longer than those who were never induced to flaring or exercised.
In our case, we've decided that our personal convenience far outweighs the betta fish's right to mental stability and calm. The cat now takes his meds with much more aplomb, due almost entirely to the presence of a fishtank within inches of his face.
That thin plastic, with the tantalizing moving thing on the other side...hey guys! The moving thing not only moves, but it reacts to my frantic scratching and reaching! Ouch! What did you do!? That's...uncomfortable...and I think I'm pissed at you, so I'll sulk. But not off the counter. I'll just sit here and sulk...where I can see that moving thing...so angry...so...wha?...hey! hey you moving thing!!
He'll even stay on the counter for the anti-leak circular rubbing motion just below his hump, so long as nothing obstructs his view of the fish. Now, he'll even leap on the stovetop hours after his treatment, seeking to slap at a fishtank, and he'll purr atop the counter (in hopes of the sudden appearance of a fishtank?). Regardless of his motivations, this new attitude to countertop activity is very welcome.
I justify it like this:
Fish: Very cheap, in purchase, lifestyle, and upkeep. Not very affectionate. Short life span, even in the best of conditions. Decorative, but not cuddle-able, and can only provide limited companionship from atop the bedroom dresser. Other placement locations will immediately result in the cat bothering the fish, causing stress, and annoying the humans with slapping sounds.
Cat: More expensive in all aspects, but more rewarding socially. Decorative and cuddly, while amusing humans in all areas of the house. Longer lifespan possiblities necessitate the administration of fluids, which necessitates the scheduled use of the fish as entertainment for the cat.
Fish: About $37 for several years of upkeep and supplies.
Ten minutes of excitement/exercise for the fish in exchange for 10 minutes of calm from the cat: Priceless
Besides: I read somewhere that betta fish who were regularly challenged by a lab tech and chased around their tank daily lived longer than those who were never induced to flaring or exercised.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)