The pen is mightier than the sword

Sure enough, but how do the needle and thread compare?

Let me take you back in time. Should we visit the Third Crusade, circa 1190? Well, consider the travel fares for such a trip... We're traveling on a budget, so let's go to some five years ago...

Cue in special time travel effects. And a DeLorean.

The year is 2002. The world has yet to recover from the events of 9/11 2001. George W. Bush is on his first term, prior to his election. Most importantly, in some two bit nigh highlandish town, I've just graduated from high school. Yay!

Yay! indeed. Where should we begin to count the reasons for me to rejoice? Is it the impending freedom from leaving the nest? Is it the fact that I'm about to take the fisrt few steps along the path to whatever I'll ultimately end up doing as a profession? How about the sheer antecipation of the joys of college environment? Sort of, really. What I was the GLaDest about was leaving the sowing circles.

Long introduction to the sowing circles: Just watch Pulp Fiction.

Short introduction to the sowing circles: in Pulp Fiction, discussing the matter of whether some never shown henchman was killed for performing some act of a sexual or erotic nature on the cheif gangster's wife, Uma Thurman dismisses said rumor as false and proceedes to accuse John Travolta and his kind of "being worse than a sowing circle", i.e., a group of people who'll join for some excuse with the ulterior motive of exchanging gossip.

So what do I refer to as "sowing circles"? Small (or not so small), hermetic groups of people gathering around to spew venom upon each other and especially upon those who won't, either because of inability or repulse, join one such group.

Well, doesn't time just fly by when you're having fun? It's 2007 all over again! A whole month of it yet to come and all. And here I stand (well, sit, really), remembering how I didn't expect to find sowing circles here, spinning their webs of hurtful rumors and weaving their cloth of rumor and intrigue. Silly me. I'd find them, alright, and none the kinder.

Really, I expected most of my peers to grow out of such a puerile stage in five years, and I'm glad to see many did, but looking upon the social landscape, what do I see?

Mesas. Not one of them Black, but plenty thereof, nonetheless. Mesas of groups cackling about lies told about others. And across a great chasm from them, a small plains of lush meadows where trees of thick branches provide ample shade and streams of fresh, crystaline water sliver, the shared land of Trekkies and Warsies.

Granted, not all inhabitants of this little locus amoenus are either fans of Star Trek or of Star Wars, but, rest assured, none of them are in a sowing circle, or do they even relate to that ilk.

As a trivia factoid, how to recognise them at a glance? Not such an easy task, but here's a tested and true method: Simply ask either "What's your favourite episode?" or "Who's the better captain, Kirk or Piccard?". I trust I need not explain which question appeals to which group, but lets go over the possible answers:

- Episode I, Episode VI: Could be a Warsie. Odds are, however, it's a Trekkie posing as a Warsie for whatever reason. Could be neither a Trekkie nor a Warsie nor a Snowflake.

- Episode V, Episode II: Most likely a Warsie. Possibly a well informed Trekkie or Snowflake posing as a Warsie for whatever reason.

- Episode III, Episode IV: Could be one of the very rare Warsies who honestly feel either of these two is the best, or, just as likely, a reasonably informed Trekkie or Snowflake posing as a Warsie for whatever reason.

- I don't really like Star Wars...: Not a Warsie, that's a given. Certainly either a Trekkie or a Snowflake. Definitely, however, not a Seamstress (i.e., a member of a sowing circle).

- Kirk, Piccard: Again, not a Seamstress. Most likely a Trekkie, although this could just as well be a Warsie or a Snowflake posing as a Trekkie for whatever reason. If, however, the response refers to any other spin-off of the original Star Trek show, it could hardly not be a Trekkie.

- I'm not really into Star Trek: Most usually a Warsie. Often enough a Snowflake. Not a Trekkie. Again, not a Seamstress.

And now the answer you've been waiting for, the one which plainly lays it out, fair and square, that you've just come face to face with a Seamstress...

To fully understand the relation, however, you need to comprehend how a Seamstress regards these matters. To a Seamstress, this hardly important matter denotes one's belonging in a group, and, thus, entirely defines an individual. No previous answer is acceptable to a Seamstress; to side with eiter side, the so-called "sci-fi geeks", is worse than none bar not siding with anyone, which constitutes a status-threatening, and, thus, life-threatening situation. The only way a Seamstress can concieve to rid him/herself of said imbroglio is, unchangingly, to mock their interloper, scorn their preferences and utter some veiled insult, with a very much unveiled insult chaser, thus (in their needle-and-thread minds) saving face and themselves. So, without further ado, for your comfort and enjoyment, here's a sample answer from a Seamstress:

"What? What are you talking about? That's rubbish! lol! Only lonely pathetic fat blokes with no life watch that sort of crap! You Geek! Haha!"

Interesting enough, some Seamstresses will pronounce "lol" as any other word. I can only suppose it gives them some sort of status boost the likes of "I use trendy thechy terms in everyday life, thus, I'm trendy and techy-savy. I must be cool."

This is more than bound to happen to you in some way or another, if it hasn't already. Know always that those whose tongue is as sharp as the needles they could very well wield will never know the peaceful joys of our little haven.

Pax vobiscum atque vale.

ArabianShark should probably explain the use of the word Snowflake as a fourth group, and third among the Peaceful Plains. Remember always that snowflakes are sure to be found in a Blizzard.


Remember, remember, the fifth of November
The gunpowder treason and plot
I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes,
'Twas his intent
To blow up the King and the Parliament
Poor old England to overthrow
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah!

A penny loaf to feed ol' Pope,
A farthing cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down,
A faggot of sticks to burn him.
Burn him in a tub of tar
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head,
Then we'll say ol' Pope is dead.
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah!

Well I couldn't very well leave the day when we celebrate the defining influence to my (second) favourite movie ever go by unnoticed, could I? And, in an unprecedented event, both the Pope and God were mentioned in this ateistic blog
Pax vobiscum atque vale.

ArabianShark counts the days. 52 remain. And a very merry Guy Fawkes day to you all. Except Acer Care. They sent me a motherboard with a dead CMOS chip battery. Will they ever learn?