If you thought my last post was made in a bad mood, you have seen nothing yet. Last time I was slightly disgruntled; today, I'm angry. I mean angry angry. Or is it angry angry? You figure it out.
People, get this through your heads: I am not a comedian. If you're looking for comedy search google for Rowan Atkinson. Or John Cleese. Or Benny Hill. Or Pedro Tochas (Scotts and Aussies might know him, aside from the Portugese). Or rent a comedy flick. Or catch one at your local theater. If you've ever come here in search for a laugh, my, the joke's on you.
If ever you've found mirth in my words, good for you. If ever you've laughed at a pun you've found here, great, you managed to find the lighter side of my life. If ever you've laughed sadistically at my misfortune, I'm glad at least some good came out of it. If ever you've read (or heard, for that matter) a joke from me, it's time to cut down on those brownies. Or those muffins. Or whatever it is you're getting your hallucinogenics from. I don't tell jokes. I like jokes, I find (some of) them funny, but I don't tell them. If you care to know why, look up Rowan Atkinson's qoutes from IMDb. If you can't be bothered, I'll even lay it out for you. According to Mr. Atkinson, he himself is not a funny person, and one can't be expected to be made to laugh by him. He's a dull individual who happens to be a performer. And a great one, IMO. That said, I am neither funny nor a performer of any sort, thus a joke told by me is wasted on whoever should listen to it, for I couldn't make it sound funny if it was Monty Python's fabled "joke who makes whoever listens to it laught to death". If, from here on out, you think I might be telling a joke, here's a simple test to dismiss your doubts on that matter. If ever a story told here by me starts with "An englishman, a welshman, a scott, an aussie, a priest and a rabi all walk into a pub...", you're about to read a joke. Otherwise, no, I'm not telling a joke. I'm not even attempting to be funny. If you just happen to think otherwise and are amused by my words, that's fine, really. If you're not amused by my words and feel like complaining about my puns or my funnies, don't! I make no such things as puns, jokes or funnies and you'd be a fool to expect otherwise.
That said, I'll keep on blogging as usual from here on out. In fact, this whole raving is pretty much about my life outside this blog (yes, I have one of those). Bear with me.
ArabianShark has been counting quite the number of pet peeves. Perhaps he should drop a few. Do you think the yellow pages list "mercenary marksmen"?
You wouldn't steal a car...
... or would you?
No? Not even an Aston Martin?? Good. Stealing is wrong. Unless you're stealing away from bad company. But I digress...
Sure, you wouldn't steal a car and you wouldn't steal a purse and you wouldn't steal a TV set, so you shouldn't steal a movie because unauthorised downloads are illegal and piracy is a crime punishible with up to 3 years of imprisionment in some countries... yada yada yada (not Yadda, who, if you don't know, is a Jedi master of the same species as Yoda). For those of you who don't recognise this gibberish, it's the ethics appeal you can often see at the beginning of a movie screening. And voilá, we have a topic for today's rant.
Dearest folks who push this copyright stuff;
We're aware of your message. We've been aware of it since the earliest days of good ol' departed Napster. Computer users, even the least savvy ones, are aware that if there is a way of acquiring goods or services for free whereas other ways would have one pay for the very same goods or services then the former must have some measure of illicity to it. Furthermore movie-goers pay for their tickets before they even see this very annoying advertisement of yours, often not knowing if the movie they are about to see is even worth the ticket price, only able to judge (or misjudge) from trailers, which can be deceiving. How many times has one sat through a screening of a movie they wouldn't have given the time of day just because the ticket was already paid for? However, stolen movies don't have your ethics appeal (I'm guessing. Not that I've ever stolen a movie, but why would one bother to steal such an annoying , not to mention utterly useless, little thing such as your silly ad?). So, bottom line is, you punish honest people (or less than straight-arrows in their moments of honesty) with your propaganda whereas the rotten get away with it. As if having to sit through blatantly capitalistic commercial publicity even before the trailers wasn't bad enough.
My advice to you: Sod off already! Ignorance isn't an excuse for any sort of crime, so don't even bother to argue that your piece of refuse you push on movie-goers serves the purpose of deterring copyright pirates with a warning-veiled threat. They, of all people, are aware of the risks they may be taking breaking your laws. Furthermore, even those laws are, ultimately, pointless, as there are quite a few ways around them. Hint: Sweeden has no copyright laws, China's government, who polices and censors Chinese web servers, offers great leniency to all forms of piracy, concerning itself with dissident anti-government propaganda and works of art which violate their laws, such as that no drawing may represent corpses or skeletons. So, really, pack your poorly shot would-be ad and find some lint underneath your beds. It must be way more interested in it than we are.
And for the humorous part, can you believe I've been shush!-ed by a talker for commenting on a trailer during the ethics appeal? Those crazy kids...
ArabianShark just loves the movies... like you hadn't guessed yet.
No? Not even an Aston Martin?? Good. Stealing is wrong. Unless you're stealing away from bad company. But I digress...
Sure, you wouldn't steal a car and you wouldn't steal a purse and you wouldn't steal a TV set, so you shouldn't steal a movie because unauthorised downloads are illegal and piracy is a crime punishible with up to 3 years of imprisionment in some countries... yada yada yada (not Yadda, who, if you don't know, is a Jedi master of the same species as Yoda). For those of you who don't recognise this gibberish, it's the ethics appeal you can often see at the beginning of a movie screening. And voilá, we have a topic for today's rant.
Dearest folks who push this copyright stuff;
We're aware of your message. We've been aware of it since the earliest days of good ol' departed Napster. Computer users, even the least savvy ones, are aware that if there is a way of acquiring goods or services for free whereas other ways would have one pay for the very same goods or services then the former must have some measure of illicity to it. Furthermore movie-goers pay for their tickets before they even see this very annoying advertisement of yours, often not knowing if the movie they are about to see is even worth the ticket price, only able to judge (or misjudge) from trailers, which can be deceiving. How many times has one sat through a screening of a movie they wouldn't have given the time of day just because the ticket was already paid for? However, stolen movies don't have your ethics appeal (I'm guessing. Not that I've ever stolen a movie, but why would one bother to steal such an annoying , not to mention utterly useless, little thing such as your silly ad?). So, bottom line is, you punish honest people (or less than straight-arrows in their moments of honesty) with your propaganda whereas the rotten get away with it. As if having to sit through blatantly capitalistic commercial publicity even before the trailers wasn't bad enough.
My advice to you: Sod off already! Ignorance isn't an excuse for any sort of crime, so don't even bother to argue that your piece of refuse you push on movie-goers serves the purpose of deterring copyright pirates with a warning-veiled threat. They, of all people, are aware of the risks they may be taking breaking your laws. Furthermore, even those laws are, ultimately, pointless, as there are quite a few ways around them. Hint: Sweeden has no copyright laws, China's government, who polices and censors Chinese web servers, offers great leniency to all forms of piracy, concerning itself with dissident anti-government propaganda and works of art which violate their laws, such as that no drawing may represent corpses or skeletons. So, really, pack your poorly shot would-be ad and find some lint underneath your beds. It must be way more interested in it than we are.
And for the humorous part, can you believe I've been shush!-ed by a talker for commenting on a trailer during the ethics appeal? Those crazy kids...
ArabianShark just loves the movies... like you hadn't guessed yet.
Blame it on the weather
Haven't I always?
Blogo ergo sum (or something along those lines), and so, for the past two weeks, I haven't been. One could argue it's the weather's fault, and really, one wouldn't be all thar wrong. It's not just the sun (I got me some fly shades), it's the heat and lately, it's been even worse. Somewhat overcast weather has been making for this awful stuffy weather. Fortunately today presented us with some late evening "rist", wich isn't a real word yet. I hereby proclaim "rist", meaning a mixture of rain and mist, a word. There, now it's a word. For those of you not familiar with rist, it happens when the air is so damp you can't actually go outside and not get wet, because the tiny raindrop-like droplets of water are actually suspended in mid-air very close to the ground (and not so close to the ground and everywhere in between). A very nice surprise after a stuffy day. Think cool moist towel. Ah, bliss.
Yes, one could blame it on the weather... but one would be, ultimately, wrong. The one to blame is not one alone, t's a whole team. Bethesda Softworks, it is. For the crime of unleashing upon humanity the evil known only as "The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion" and by the powers in me invested by... "it" (do remind me to fill in this gap more appropriately sometime), I hereby condemn you to be merry for the rest of your hopefully very long and rewarding lives. Now that is one good RPG. And it's not even D&D based. In fact, it's ruleset is quite original. The graphic beauty is mesmerizing to say the least and please don't anyone come bitchin' about clipping bugs, of course there are clipping bugs, it's a game, for Ctuchlu's sake. Just be glad there aren't any clipping bugs IRL. Now that that's settled and we all agree the graphics are, for want of a better word, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, where this here piece of work really shines is in the NPC's very advanced and independent AI. Yes, NPCs each have independent AIs which are not ruled by some would-be The Force-like entity, NPCs intercat with each other as they would with the player in each and every way, and I do mean every last way, from greeting each other as they pass by in the street to having heated discussions prone to end with the punctuation of clanging steel and the underlining of spilt blood. So, in short, get this game.
Hey, I almost forgot to give you my farewells. Almost...
ArabianShark is not, however, oblivious to the fact that some more movie-related ravings are due. Patience...
Blogo ergo sum (or something along those lines), and so, for the past two weeks, I haven't been. One could argue it's the weather's fault, and really, one wouldn't be all thar wrong. It's not just the sun (I got me some fly shades), it's the heat and lately, it's been even worse. Somewhat overcast weather has been making for this awful stuffy weather. Fortunately today presented us with some late evening "rist", wich isn't a real word yet. I hereby proclaim "rist", meaning a mixture of rain and mist, a word. There, now it's a word. For those of you not familiar with rist, it happens when the air is so damp you can't actually go outside and not get wet, because the tiny raindrop-like droplets of water are actually suspended in mid-air very close to the ground (and not so close to the ground and everywhere in between). A very nice surprise after a stuffy day. Think cool moist towel. Ah, bliss.
Yes, one could blame it on the weather... but one would be, ultimately, wrong. The one to blame is not one alone, t's a whole team. Bethesda Softworks, it is. For the crime of unleashing upon humanity the evil known only as "The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion" and by the powers in me invested by... "it" (do remind me to fill in this gap more appropriately sometime), I hereby condemn you to be merry for the rest of your hopefully very long and rewarding lives. Now that is one good RPG. And it's not even D&D based. In fact, it's ruleset is quite original. The graphic beauty is mesmerizing to say the least and please don't anyone come bitchin' about clipping bugs, of course there are clipping bugs, it's a game, for Ctuchlu's sake. Just be glad there aren't any clipping bugs IRL. Now that that's settled and we all agree the graphics are, for want of a better word, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, where this here piece of work really shines is in the NPC's very advanced and independent AI. Yes, NPCs each have independent AIs which are not ruled by some would-be The Force-like entity, NPCs intercat with each other as they would with the player in each and every way, and I do mean every last way, from greeting each other as they pass by in the street to having heated discussions prone to end with the punctuation of clanging steel and the underlining of spilt blood. So, in short, get this game.
Hey, I almost forgot to give you my farewells. Almost...
ArabianShark is not, however, oblivious to the fact that some more movie-related ravings are due. Patience...
Poll II: the Results
Thank you all who voted in last time's poll. Unfortunately, not even all of you were sufficient to make a good statistical sample. Thus, I'm forced to resort to other means to discover the answer to my question.
The question at hand is not one befitting the answer "42", but simply "Which one is the cooler car." I feel this is to petty a matter to figure in the universal source of all knowledge (Wikipedia), and certainly not worth disturbing the Powers (Usenet Oracle). But, in the end, coolness (is that a word?) is merely a popularity contest. That can be solved easily.
Here is the winner. So, at the date this is being written, Vanquish got... Vanquished.
Tune in tomorrow for some more movie-related raving. Farewell.
ArabianShark is at a loss for a witty last remark. One could argue it has always been so, but one would be kind not to... or get some vital organ bitten off.
The question at hand is not one befitting the answer "42", but simply "Which one is the cooler car." I feel this is to petty a matter to figure in the universal source of all knowledge (Wikipedia), and certainly not worth disturbing the Powers (Usenet Oracle). But, in the end, coolness (is that a word?) is merely a popularity contest. That can be solved easily.
Here is the winner. So, at the date this is being written, Vanquish got... Vanquished.
Tune in tomorrow for some more movie-related raving. Farewell.
ArabianShark is at a loss for a witty last remark. One could argue it has always been so, but one would be kind not to... or get some vital organ bitten off.
Poll
Polls, for the most part, as far as I'm concerned, are pretty much... useless. They don't define (ooh, define! Read with Hugo Weaving's tone!) reality, they don't shape reality, they merely report of reality, with varying levels of accuracy, depending on how well the poll was done. At this point I'd like to make a very clear difference between a poll such as this and a poll in which one goes around ringing doorbells to ask Everyday Joe how he/she(/it? Why not?) feels about this or that with aims to improve some product or service so that Everyday Joe and his wife/husband/children/parents/pets/furniture and such may have more fun and spend less time with their chores. Those aren't just use useless. They're also annoying.
Onwards...
My question: Which car do you like best: the Aston Martin DB9 or the Aston Martin Vanquish? One should hardly think you have never heard of them or that you don't know what either of them looks like... but if you don't, just go ahead and make an image search on google for either of them. What's that? Can't be bothered!? Why, of all the lazy... oh, alright! I spoil you!
Aston Martin DB9 (more)
Aston Martin Vanquish (more)
Sleek and shiny farewells.
ArabianShark looks forward to hearing your opinions in the shape of comments.
Onwards...
My question: Which car do you like best: the Aston Martin DB9 or the Aston Martin Vanquish? One should hardly think you have never heard of them or that you don't know what either of them looks like... but if you don't, just go ahead and make an image search on google for either of them. What's that? Can't be bothered!? Why, of all the lazy... oh, alright! I spoil you!
Aston Martin DB9 (more)
Aston Martin Vanquish (more)
Sleek and shiny farewells.
ArabianShark looks forward to hearing your opinions in the shape of comments.
Not even a full nibble...
Just a little tidbit...
We all know Google's "I'm feeling Lucky" button is a little prone to hilarious situations. Another one:
Make one such lucky search for "failure" (no quotes). Careful, now, no typos. Looking for "faliure" will return no hilarious first result.
ArabianShark would send his farewells, had he been here long enough.
We all know Google's "I'm feeling Lucky" button is a little prone to hilarious situations. Another one:
Make one such lucky search for "failure" (no quotes). Careful, now, no typos. Looking for "faliure" will return no hilarious first result.
ArabianShark would send his farewells, had he been here long enough.
It's been a while...
Right, I'm back. Anyone miss me? There's quite a bit of catching up to do, now, so let's get to it. What's on the menu for today...
Oranges: Actually, tangerines. I thought we'd have some fruit first. a bit of an appetizer. Loads of vitamin C in those. Great to keep the common cold at bay. Also, vitamin C is quite helpful in dealing with hangovers, as are natural non-refined sugars. A neat suggestion for a part of a day-after-a-bender breakfast. If no oranges are avaliable, another good source of vitamin C are kiwis (the fruit, not New Zealanders and certainly not birds). But, if you recall, the topic is tangerines. Is it me or do the ones with the most seeds always taste better? Does, likewise, a rose smell all the sweeter the more thorns it has?
Eagerly awaiting your comments, farewell.
ArabianShark settles in after quite the long absence. Not much has changed, however.
Oranges: Actually, tangerines. I thought we'd have some fruit first. a bit of an appetizer. Loads of vitamin C in those. Great to keep the common cold at bay. Also, vitamin C is quite helpful in dealing with hangovers, as are natural non-refined sugars. A neat suggestion for a part of a day-after-a-bender breakfast. If no oranges are avaliable, another good source of vitamin C are kiwis (the fruit, not New Zealanders and certainly not birds). But, if you recall, the topic is tangerines. Is it me or do the ones with the most seeds always taste better? Does, likewise, a rose smell all the sweeter the more thorns it has?
Eagerly awaiting your comments, farewell.
ArabianShark settles in after quite the long absence. Not much has changed, however.
Daylight saving time
Why are people afraid of running out of daylight? You know, the sun will (most likely) rise tomorrow too; there's no need of saving today's daylight when there's plenty of daylight for the picking tomorrow. Besides, where are you storing the daylight you are meant to be saving with the hour of sleep they took from me a week ago last Sunday?
Really, I don't get it. Right, so it might have been useful in the past, when they were still trying to invent a better lightbulb, but really, I find myself in brighter environments at night than during the day (well, not really. Except in the Winter). With this crazy Summer Hour, I find myself going for dinner barely at sunset. It messes with my internal clock (my most geeky readers will be glad to know that my other internal clock remains with equal up and down times and at the precise same frequency). It's weird. It's unnatural. There is no longer a "night meal", only an "early evening meal", and that's hardly dinner at all. Lunch is a drag for me, dinner was good. Now, dinner is no more. I take pleasure in food no more. Hey, that's going to help my weight loss program, eh? I guess some good may come from the whole daylight saving time after all.
Still I wonder how vampires are coping. It's still the first few days of Daylight Saving, I wonder if any of them are turning in their graves, going "Man, oh, man, I could so go for a neck right now, but I just can't go out yet." Or do you think they migrate like swallows? Going South?
Bright and Light farewells to you all, mortal and otherwise.
ArabianShark is now going for a bite. Not to the neck, though.
Really, I don't get it. Right, so it might have been useful in the past, when they were still trying to invent a better lightbulb, but really, I find myself in brighter environments at night than during the day (well, not really. Except in the Winter). With this crazy Summer Hour, I find myself going for dinner barely at sunset. It messes with my internal clock (my most geeky readers will be glad to know that my other internal clock remains with equal up and down times and at the precise same frequency). It's weird. It's unnatural. There is no longer a "night meal", only an "early evening meal", and that's hardly dinner at all. Lunch is a drag for me, dinner was good. Now, dinner is no more. I take pleasure in food no more. Hey, that's going to help my weight loss program, eh? I guess some good may come from the whole daylight saving time after all.
Still I wonder how vampires are coping. It's still the first few days of Daylight Saving, I wonder if any of them are turning in their graves, going "Man, oh, man, I could so go for a neck right now, but I just can't go out yet." Or do you think they migrate like swallows? Going South?
Bright and Light farewells to you all, mortal and otherwise.
ArabianShark is now going for a bite. Not to the neck, though.
Who's up for fishing?
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy says that the Babelfish is simply the most wierd thing in the universe. What do you know, it could be right.
If you're not familiar with the Hichhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (tho original BBC series, not the more recently released film), shame on you. At any rate, to understand the Babelfish one must, right off the bat, know what a fish is. I'll be assuming you all know what a fish is. If, however, you don't know what a fish is... Right, this is plain silly, isn't it? Second, one must know of Babel. The tower of Babel was a great construction of man, made to challenge the heavens themselves and raise mankind to the statute of God. God, however, would sabotage this enterprise by mixing the tongues of man, thus creating the many languages spoken around the world. Thus, a Babelfish is a creature that can understand any language in the universe. In the Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy, you stick it in your ear and immediately you'll be able to understand any alien dialect as though it were your own mother tongue.
Of course Babelfish can also mean another thing. Out of waiting for a download to complete-induced boredom, I figured I could have some fun with it. give it a chunk of text, have it translated into another language, than yet another language without going back to the original language and back to the language you typed in. If you gave it a simple sentence, the result should be approximately the same sentence you gave it. An example:
"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog."
Translate from English to Portuguese, from Portuguese to French, form French to German and from German to English:
"The kastanienbraune fox fast reversal on the lazy dog."
Note: Just so you don't think I ever made any typos, I copy-pasted in between languages.
Fair enough. Small sentence, few mistakes. Now give it a large, complicated piece and add in a few more translations and watch the fish wiggle. Here's a suggestion:
(Form "V for Vendetta")
"Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is it vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished, as the once vital voice of the verisimilitude now venerates what they once vilified. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V."
Give it a try.
Tongue tied farewells.
ArabianShark cannot possibly be tonge tied, because a shark's tongue is quite stiff, seeing as it is cartali... cartile... cartela... it's stiff.
(Incidentally, I meant, of course, cartilaginous)
If you're not familiar with the Hichhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (tho original BBC series, not the more recently released film), shame on you. At any rate, to understand the Babelfish one must, right off the bat, know what a fish is. I'll be assuming you all know what a fish is. If, however, you don't know what a fish is... Right, this is plain silly, isn't it? Second, one must know of Babel. The tower of Babel was a great construction of man, made to challenge the heavens themselves and raise mankind to the statute of God. God, however, would sabotage this enterprise by mixing the tongues of man, thus creating the many languages spoken around the world. Thus, a Babelfish is a creature that can understand any language in the universe. In the Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy, you stick it in your ear and immediately you'll be able to understand any alien dialect as though it were your own mother tongue.
Of course Babelfish can also mean another thing. Out of waiting for a download to complete-induced boredom, I figured I could have some fun with it. give it a chunk of text, have it translated into another language, than yet another language without going back to the original language and back to the language you typed in. If you gave it a simple sentence, the result should be approximately the same sentence you gave it. An example:
"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog."
Translate from English to Portuguese, from Portuguese to French, form French to German and from German to English:
"The kastanienbraune fox fast reversal on the lazy dog."
Note: Just so you don't think I ever made any typos, I copy-pasted in between languages.
Fair enough. Small sentence, few mistakes. Now give it a large, complicated piece and add in a few more translations and watch the fish wiggle. Here's a suggestion:
(Form "V for Vendetta")
"Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is it vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished, as the once vital voice of the verisimilitude now venerates what they once vilified. However, this valorous visitation of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, and so it is my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V."
Give it a try.
Tongue tied farewells.
ArabianShark cannot possibly be tonge tied, because a shark's tongue is quite stiff, seeing as it is cartali... cartile... cartela... it's stiff.
(Incidentally, I meant, of course, cartilaginous)
Hypergraphy
Lately I've been posting far too long updates and comments, and I've heard complaints that my blog entries won't fit some screens, even at high resolution and in full screen mode. Mea culpa. A post to indulge those of you who can't be bothered to read for too long.
And for those who'd whine about there not being any content to it, it's sunny, Daylight Saving Time took night hours from me and I'm disgruntled about it all.
Bye.
ArabianShark is gone.
And for those who'd whine about there not being any content to it, it's sunny, Daylight Saving Time took night hours from me and I'm disgruntled about it all.
Bye.
ArabianShark is gone.
What's a W but a stuttered V?
A very silly title, wasn't it? I suppose that's the best I could come up with, attempting to get W and V in the same sentence tongue-in-cheek. Right, then; onwards.
At any rate, why W and V? W is the initial of the last name of many famous people, such as Andy Wachowsky, Larry Wachowsky and Hugo Weaving, to name a few. Where am I going with this? And how come there's a V in it as well? What is the V for, why should there be a V, why, why?
Why, for Vendetta, of course.
(And that's what it's all about. A whole rant just to introduce yet another movie review. Well, then, here be slight spoilers, none of which about the plot (and most certeinly none about the gunpowder plot), yet some about the other aspects of the movie. Read on.)
First and foremost, Hugo Weaving makes my skin crawl. In a good way, that is. Every single line he delivers my hair stands on end. Picture that, sitting next to a porcupine at the movies.
Before the review, how about an overview? The place is London; the time is in the near future, most likely in the next 20's or about that time. A totalitarian regime has taken over the United Kingdom. Media, politics and police are all about a single goal, that of a single man; a Chancellor set on total domination of the people of England. Enter V, a man behind a Guy Fawkes mask, a man who wont sit and be spoon fed whatever laws, whatever lies "they", whoever they might be, see fit that he abide by. Enter the villain.
Despite being set in the future, this is no Sci-Fic flick.
The shooting and directing is much like those of The Matrix (as one would expect), with great results as well. Unlike The Matrix series, however, great emphasis is put on the little things, or rather lack thereof. Not that there aren't any little things, for they are many, but because the little things are not allowed to be or remain little. (I still have Mr. Weaving's voice in my head. Try to read this paragraph as though Weaving were delivering it.) Every little thud or tap of small objects being dropped, flung or merely knocked over is emphatised and exagerated until it becomes quite simply and delightfully ominous, grown or overgrown to a thunderous boom.
The main character draws from several sources, not quite copycatting any yet merging several elements with all which is only his own to a most exquisite result. First and foremost there is the black cloak and hat from which shines a white mask, à la Phantom of the Opera. Also the cloak and mask, the colour black and the fact the V is more than merely man, but the icon of a concept, a recurring theme of fear and hatred, that he is no more hero than anti-hero, that he is such a charismatic villain, that his voice was probably dubbed in in post producing (I should think that it should be rather hard to accurately record voice from beyond the mask of from within it, for that matter)and even that his name is the letter V spell out Darth Vader. Besides the impecable conception of the character is Weaving's spectacular performance, not just as vocal talent but also as physical talent. Unlike David Prowse's interpretation of Darth Vader, V is hardly the masked character that makes you wonder weather there's actually a person underneath the costume; Weaving's body language convey every last little twitch that his face would, were not for the mask.
Other elements drawn upon are mainly of historical nature, most strikingly, a very deliberate resemblance to Adolph Hitler whenever the Chancellor is seen adressing the public and (skip the remainder of this paragraph, lest you read spoilers) in the scene when thousands of ordinary people don Guy Fawkes masks and black cloaks and hats to join in the revolution, which draws upon Mahatma Ghandi's gathering of 4000 people to collect a bowl of sea water to produce their own salt (which, if you recall your history, was illegal at the time).
Where the movie really shines, however, is in its music. Not just background, taylor-made music for any specific scene (which I have nothing against, on the contrary), but the usage of music an element of a scene, particularly classical music. I won't go in much depth, but, again, mind the little things. The keyword is sync.
The lighting is to be commended as well. Hard contrasts of light and shaddow are cleverly applied to establish moods and even mislead the viewer for some more plot twists. Softer transictions set different moods, some with warm lights to express comfort and intimacy, some eerie shadows to induce a sense of mistery and deceit.
Much powerful imagery was used to great effect. Many short shots of episodes of violence, passion, death and love succeed masterfully at conveying simple concepts in flashbacks and minor subplots.
Right, that's enough. Just go and see the movie. It's well worth it.
Sighing for the streets of London... Farewell.
ArabianShark will now be setting off for a journey towards the North Sea, up the Thames and off to a little vacation in London... In his dreams.
At any rate, why W and V? W is the initial of the last name of many famous people, such as Andy Wachowsky, Larry Wachowsky and Hugo Weaving, to name a few. Where am I going with this? And how come there's a V in it as well? What is the V for, why should there be a V, why, why?
Why, for Vendetta, of course.
(And that's what it's all about. A whole rant just to introduce yet another movie review. Well, then, here be slight spoilers, none of which about the plot (and most certeinly none about the gunpowder plot), yet some about the other aspects of the movie. Read on.)
First and foremost, Hugo Weaving makes my skin crawl. In a good way, that is. Every single line he delivers my hair stands on end. Picture that, sitting next to a porcupine at the movies.
Before the review, how about an overview? The place is London; the time is in the near future, most likely in the next 20's or about that time. A totalitarian regime has taken over the United Kingdom. Media, politics and police are all about a single goal, that of a single man; a Chancellor set on total domination of the people of England. Enter V, a man behind a Guy Fawkes mask, a man who wont sit and be spoon fed whatever laws, whatever lies "they", whoever they might be, see fit that he abide by. Enter the villain.
Despite being set in the future, this is no Sci-Fic flick.
The shooting and directing is much like those of The Matrix (as one would expect), with great results as well. Unlike The Matrix series, however, great emphasis is put on the little things, or rather lack thereof. Not that there aren't any little things, for they are many, but because the little things are not allowed to be or remain little. (I still have Mr. Weaving's voice in my head. Try to read this paragraph as though Weaving were delivering it.) Every little thud or tap of small objects being dropped, flung or merely knocked over is emphatised and exagerated until it becomes quite simply and delightfully ominous, grown or overgrown to a thunderous boom.
The main character draws from several sources, not quite copycatting any yet merging several elements with all which is only his own to a most exquisite result. First and foremost there is the black cloak and hat from which shines a white mask, à la Phantom of the Opera. Also the cloak and mask, the colour black and the fact the V is more than merely man, but the icon of a concept, a recurring theme of fear and hatred, that he is no more hero than anti-hero, that he is such a charismatic villain, that his voice was probably dubbed in in post producing (I should think that it should be rather hard to accurately record voice from beyond the mask of from within it, for that matter)and even that his name is the letter V spell out Darth Vader. Besides the impecable conception of the character is Weaving's spectacular performance, not just as vocal talent but also as physical talent. Unlike David Prowse's interpretation of Darth Vader, V is hardly the masked character that makes you wonder weather there's actually a person underneath the costume; Weaving's body language convey every last little twitch that his face would, were not for the mask.
Other elements drawn upon are mainly of historical nature, most strikingly, a very deliberate resemblance to Adolph Hitler whenever the Chancellor is seen adressing the public and (skip the remainder of this paragraph, lest you read spoilers) in the scene when thousands of ordinary people don Guy Fawkes masks and black cloaks and hats to join in the revolution, which draws upon Mahatma Ghandi's gathering of 4000 people to collect a bowl of sea water to produce their own salt (which, if you recall your history, was illegal at the time).
Where the movie really shines, however, is in its music. Not just background, taylor-made music for any specific scene (which I have nothing against, on the contrary), but the usage of music an element of a scene, particularly classical music. I won't go in much depth, but, again, mind the little things. The keyword is sync.
The lighting is to be commended as well. Hard contrasts of light and shaddow are cleverly applied to establish moods and even mislead the viewer for some more plot twists. Softer transictions set different moods, some with warm lights to express comfort and intimacy, some eerie shadows to induce a sense of mistery and deceit.
Much powerful imagery was used to great effect. Many short shots of episodes of violence, passion, death and love succeed masterfully at conveying simple concepts in flashbacks and minor subplots.
Right, that's enough. Just go and see the movie. It's well worth it.
Sighing for the streets of London... Farewell.
ArabianShark will now be setting off for a journey towards the North Sea, up the Thames and off to a little vacation in London... In his dreams.
Full Moon
Right off the bat, if you're looking for a sane and sensible read, you're all out of luck. Right, then, onwards.
Full moon, at last! Come, O, come, sweet Silver Queen of the Night, come; come and bestow us thy blessing, the healing glare of your light. Let us crude creatures of blood and bone be bathed in thy shiny grace, for yours is the flameless fire and the dark light with which our shadowy paths yearn to be ablaze with. Shine through and spread your beam in the hazy mists of the night you make light and make the inky black heavens lit with the sparkling web of deceit only one as yourself can weave. Come, O, come; come and leave us never.
Right, then, that's that. Oh, by the way, there's a full moon tonight. Beware of werewolves and such, like, you know... bed bugs. They bite!
Wishing you all the sanity I... misplaced.
ArabianShark is hardly a basker shark, yet he'll be surfacing for a bit of basking tonight. I't a pretty night after all, you know.
Full moon, at last! Come, O, come, sweet Silver Queen of the Night, come; come and bestow us thy blessing, the healing glare of your light. Let us crude creatures of blood and bone be bathed in thy shiny grace, for yours is the flameless fire and the dark light with which our shadowy paths yearn to be ablaze with. Shine through and spread your beam in the hazy mists of the night you make light and make the inky black heavens lit with the sparkling web of deceit only one as yourself can weave. Come, O, come; come and leave us never.
Right, then, that's that. Oh, by the way, there's a full moon tonight. Beware of werewolves and such, like, you know... bed bugs. They bite!
Wishing you all the sanity I... misplaced.
ArabianShark is hardly a basker shark, yet he'll be surfacing for a bit of basking tonight. I't a pretty night after all, you know.
Hail to the Empire
Yes, of course, Hail to the Empire, the one political power over the whole galaxy, under the Rule of Emperor Palpatine and the drive of Drk Lord of the Sith Darth Vader.
Hold on... wrong empire... oops.
Right then. See if I get it right this time. Hail to the Brittas Empire... no?
Close enough. Ok, third time is a charm. Hail to the British Empire.
At least I got the right empire this time around, only it's hardly an Empire these days. However, what it became (for the most part, anyway) has its day today. It's Commonwealth Day.
If you're wondering, the Commonwealth a loose confederation of nations, most of which formerly of the British Empire. Another Commonwealth (the Commonwealth of Independent States - CIS, for the many fellow geeks - as opposed to the Commonwealth of Nations, aforementioned as "the Commonwealth") is a similar confederation of former Soviet Republics. For another day, perhaps.
Farewell now, and don't miss the cerimony on BBC, if you read this in time (which I don't suppose you can, since it's waaaay too late).
ArabianShark is now going on tour of the Commonwealth realms. All the lovely vacation spots and more.
Hold on... wrong empire... oops.
Right then. See if I get it right this time. Hail to the Brittas Empire... no?
Close enough. Ok, third time is a charm. Hail to the British Empire.
At least I got the right empire this time around, only it's hardly an Empire these days. However, what it became (for the most part, anyway) has its day today. It's Commonwealth Day.
If you're wondering, the Commonwealth a loose confederation of nations, most of which formerly of the British Empire. Another Commonwealth (the Commonwealth of Independent States - CIS, for the many fellow geeks - as opposed to the Commonwealth of Nations, aforementioned as "the Commonwealth") is a similar confederation of former Soviet Republics. For another day, perhaps.
Farewell now, and don't miss the cerimony on BBC, if you read this in time (which I don't suppose you can, since it's waaaay too late).
ArabianShark is now going on tour of the Commonwealth realms. All the lovely vacation spots and more.
Ladies night
Today is interantional woman's day.
How do you make a blog entry about that? I gues I'll be taking the French kid way out of this.
What is the French kid way out, you ask? It is nothing like the spoon, I promise. It is rather more fun.
A French kid was once to write an essay for school on the subject "the cow". If my memory serves me right, his essay rougly translates into something like this:
"The bird I'm supposed to write about is the owl. By night it can't see and by day it's blind as a bat. I don't know much about the owl, so I'll continue about another animal I'll chose, the cow."
From then on, it's a bundle of laughs as odd approaches to the subject ensue, such as "the cow has six sides: top, bottom, front, back, left and right", "the head is for the horns to come out and because it's mouth had to be somewhere" and "it's legs reach the ground", up until the final lines, "the cow has a very keen sense of smell, and that's why you can smell it from far away."
So there, I had my owl, I found my cow and I applied the French kid way out of swampy grounds. Time for goodbye.
ArabianShark will rest on the bottom for a while, now. Only few species of sharks can actually rest and pump water over their gills without moving, most others must swim constantly so they don't asphixiate. Next time you think you're tired, think again!
How do you make a blog entry about that? I gues I'll be taking the French kid way out of this.
What is the French kid way out, you ask? It is nothing like the spoon, I promise. It is rather more fun.
A French kid was once to write an essay for school on the subject "the cow". If my memory serves me right, his essay rougly translates into something like this:
"The bird I'm supposed to write about is the owl. By night it can't see and by day it's blind as a bat. I don't know much about the owl, so I'll continue about another animal I'll chose, the cow."
From then on, it's a bundle of laughs as odd approaches to the subject ensue, such as "the cow has six sides: top, bottom, front, back, left and right", "the head is for the horns to come out and because it's mouth had to be somewhere" and "it's legs reach the ground", up until the final lines, "the cow has a very keen sense of smell, and that's why you can smell it from far away."
So there, I had my owl, I found my cow and I applied the French kid way out of swampy grounds. Time for goodbye.
ArabianShark will rest on the bottom for a while, now. Only few species of sharks can actually rest and pump water over their gills without moving, most others must swim constantly so they don't asphixiate. Next time you think you're tired, think again!
I don't usually do this...
I've posted links before, but you might remember me saying I wouldn't link to other blogs. That just might be about to change.
I don't mean to make this a habit, but there is one blog especially noteworthy (actually, there are several such blogs... just read on). It's funny and often thought provoking. Furthermore, the fellow bloggers who write it were kind enough to put a link to my blog on their template, and by no means because I asked. They did it out of the kindness in their hearts. Cheers, mates! Gotta love that bunch. The ones I've met, at any rate.
So, ladies and gents, without further ado... The disco-bar!
Now before you all go rushing there and storming the place, I should warn you that it is, more often than not, in Portuguese, so if you don't speak the language, here's a good excuse to learn it.
I'll be adding the link permanently on the side bar too, so you may never forget to drop by whenever you think of ol' Sharky here.
Right, enough said. Live long, and prosper.
ArabianShark has a splitting headache... and a Networking Fundaments II report due soon. Bugger!
I don't mean to make this a habit, but there is one blog especially noteworthy (actually, there are several such blogs... just read on). It's funny and often thought provoking. Furthermore, the fellow bloggers who write it were kind enough to put a link to my blog on their template, and by no means because I asked. They did it out of the kindness in their hearts. Cheers, mates! Gotta love that bunch. The ones I've met, at any rate.
So, ladies and gents, without further ado... The disco-bar!
Now before you all go rushing there and storming the place, I should warn you that it is, more often than not, in Portuguese, so if you don't speak the language, here's a good excuse to learn it.
I'll be adding the link permanently on the side bar too, so you may never forget to drop by whenever you think of ol' Sharky here.
Right, enough said. Live long, and prosper.
ArabianShark has a splitting headache... and a Networking Fundaments II report due soon. Bugger!
Marching up and down the square
The title is only funny if you read it with Jahn Cleese's voice while he's doing an army bit for Monty Python. I suppose you have to be John Cleese to do that properly, so... amused yoet, Mr. Cleese? No? Let's get that sorted, then shall we?
So you're all looking for comedy, eh? Tough luck, today is just not a funny day. Check back tomorrow, perhaps we'll have some funnies then.
Today is Ash Wednesady. That means only forty days (plus Sundays) until Easter. It also means yesterday was Mardi Gras. Enough with the all too abvious factoids, on with my usual style of blogging. I'm stuck with it, for better or worse.
The time to burn away the undesired memories is gone, and March we shall into 2006. Sure, you may think you already have, but really, it's only been 59 days so far, you still have 306 days ahead of you (counting today), so it's still fairly early in the year. That means that if you have not been up to a great start, it can still change. If, on the other hand, everything's been peaches and cream left and right, great, carry on!
March is the third month of the Roman Calendar. What else is new, you ask. Well, pretty damn nearly nothing, really. I just meat to say it is dedicated to Mars, Roman god of war, but, by no means, any more belligerent a month than any. If you believe in the meaning of coincidence, this year the month of Mars (March, duh) begins on the day of Venus (Wednesday, or so I think, if I remember that paper I wrote about the origin of the names of the days of the week all those years ago correctly), his lover, in spite of her arranged marriage with Volcano, in Roman mythology.
For the first time in my life I envy San Franciscans. Why, you ask? Well, then, be more specific. Why is it the first time? Some time would have to be the first, right? Why do I envy San Franciscans? Because Lestat, the musical is due to premier in SF this Spring. If you don't know who or what Lestat is, picture me giving you a very sternly disapointed glare right now. This should be tricky, if you've never seen me and don't know what I look like, but I'm sure you'll manage. Lestat is the main character of Anne Rice's "The Vampire Lestat" (Captain Obvious strikes again), and, IMO, the greatest vampire (literarily speaking, of course) ever. Forget about Dracula and Nosferatu.
My very own little vampires (yes, I breed them in my socks drawer) are growing nicely too, with the second tale nearly completed.
Farewell for now, for I still have much work ahead of me tonight...
ArabianShark smells blood on the water. Must be chum.
So you're all looking for comedy, eh? Tough luck, today is just not a funny day. Check back tomorrow, perhaps we'll have some funnies then.
Today is Ash Wednesady. That means only forty days (plus Sundays) until Easter. It also means yesterday was Mardi Gras. Enough with the all too abvious factoids, on with my usual style of blogging. I'm stuck with it, for better or worse.
The time to burn away the undesired memories is gone, and March we shall into 2006. Sure, you may think you already have, but really, it's only been 59 days so far, you still have 306 days ahead of you (counting today), so it's still fairly early in the year. That means that if you have not been up to a great start, it can still change. If, on the other hand, everything's been peaches and cream left and right, great, carry on!
March is the third month of the Roman Calendar. What else is new, you ask. Well, pretty damn nearly nothing, really. I just meat to say it is dedicated to Mars, Roman god of war, but, by no means, any more belligerent a month than any. If you believe in the meaning of coincidence, this year the month of Mars (March, duh) begins on the day of Venus (Wednesday, or so I think, if I remember that paper I wrote about the origin of the names of the days of the week all those years ago correctly), his lover, in spite of her arranged marriage with Volcano, in Roman mythology.
For the first time in my life I envy San Franciscans. Why, you ask? Well, then, be more specific. Why is it the first time? Some time would have to be the first, right? Why do I envy San Franciscans? Because Lestat, the musical is due to premier in SF this Spring. If you don't know who or what Lestat is, picture me giving you a very sternly disapointed glare right now. This should be tricky, if you've never seen me and don't know what I look like, but I'm sure you'll manage. Lestat is the main character of Anne Rice's "The Vampire Lestat" (Captain Obvious strikes again), and, IMO, the greatest vampire (literarily speaking, of course) ever. Forget about Dracula and Nosferatu.
My very own little vampires (yes, I breed them in my socks drawer) are growing nicely too, with the second tale nearly completed.
Farewell for now, for I still have much work ahead of me tonight...
ArabianShark smells blood on the water. Must be chum.
Vibes... silly?
Ever since I got to bloggigng I regularly check out several blogs. Most of them rather amuse me in a quiet way, but some actually grip me to them. I have this theory that you can infer some (or a lot) about a person from their writing. Certainly a blog is hardly the proper source for accurate and relevant information about a person, since when writing a blog one is prone to make tols of nistakes, seeing as it's a casual thing one does for fun, really, and being overly serious about fun is a bit of an oxymoron. Still, grammar and spelling apart, and even beyond the content of one's writing, perhaps hidden amidst the choice of words, the punctuation, the lenght of the sentences or the odd exclamation of LOL and LOLOLOL and even LMAO, I believe, lies something to be known about the author. What that is... How am I supposed to know, if I'm hardly sure that there is anything at all. perhaps whatever I'm trying to find is the proverbial spoon.
What spoon, you ask? Do you really have to ask? You don't? Then you're welcome to skip this paragraph. If you do, read on. "Do no try to bend the spoon." The little kid with appearent telepathical powers said. "That is impossible. Instead try to realise that there is no spoon and that it is only you that bends." Neo took the mirror-polished spoon and, gazing at his own reflexion in it, cocked his head and, to his own bewilderment, the silver stem bowed to the side, mimicking his gesture. Soon he'd be able to spring the spoon in whatever form he'd wish. What do I mean by quoting "The Matrix"? Simply that I might be all too willing to believe there is something to be read beyond words that I raise my expectations about other bloggers to the statute of educated guesses.
Of course, I could be wrong.
I still wonder, though, what if I'm not? What if there is something to be understood in a blog beyond what the blogger is trying to say? Should this mean that the vibes I geet from some blogs are genuine (and I don't mean accurate, only that I'm not imagining things)? Or am I just being silly? Do you get any vibes from my writing? Should I have taken the red pill?
Vibrant goodbyes to all my vibe getting and non vibe getting readers alike.
ArabianShark's lateral line picks up some very yummy vibes right now. Snack time!
What spoon, you ask? Do you really have to ask? You don't? Then you're welcome to skip this paragraph. If you do, read on. "Do no try to bend the spoon." The little kid with appearent telepathical powers said. "That is impossible. Instead try to realise that there is no spoon and that it is only you that bends." Neo took the mirror-polished spoon and, gazing at his own reflexion in it, cocked his head and, to his own bewilderment, the silver stem bowed to the side, mimicking his gesture. Soon he'd be able to spring the spoon in whatever form he'd wish. What do I mean by quoting "The Matrix"? Simply that I might be all too willing to believe there is something to be read beyond words that I raise my expectations about other bloggers to the statute of educated guesses.
Of course, I could be wrong.
I still wonder, though, what if I'm not? What if there is something to be understood in a blog beyond what the blogger is trying to say? Should this mean that the vibes I geet from some blogs are genuine (and I don't mean accurate, only that I'm not imagining things)? Or am I just being silly? Do you get any vibes from my writing? Should I have taken the red pill?
Vibrant goodbyes to all my vibe getting and non vibe getting readers alike.
ArabianShark's lateral line picks up some very yummy vibes right now. Snack time!
Ow, my eyes hurt.
Is there no rest for the wicked? How about for good ol' me? Do I qualify as a 'wicked', just for the issue? At any rate...
First off, it's not raining any more. It's not even cloudy. That's the first and foremost reason for my eyes to hurt. This time of the year the sun never seems to rise very high over the horizon, so wherever I go it seems I'm stuck with staring into the sun half the time. Call me vampire (and some of you *do*, thank you very much...), but I'd take blizzards and halestorms over this "lightfest" (which is hardly a word, but what the hell) any day.
Second, there's the matter of an investigation paper I have to write. Writing comes easily to me (dare you say otherwise?), for as long as it is either fiction writing or something... light, for want of a better word. You know, like a blog or something. Research papers... I guess it mostly depends on the matter being researched (this is to say I'm doing another unrelated research thing at the same time... which has me thrilled). This one is supposed to be on the Apple iPod player. Now, Apple doesn't pay me a red penny to advertise for them (even though they do have some pretty neat stuff), but I must say I rather like that thing. The problem is I'm supposed to document my paper with pictures of the menus. Now this would hardly be any daunting a task, if I could handle a camera properly. Right off the bat my hands tremble too much to take any clear pictures of minute objects. That's anxiety for you. Then one should consider the fact that I don't know the first thing about photography. Last, but not least, the camera I'd be using won't focus the dispaly propperly, even in the hands of my colleague. So, where does that leave me? Replicating the iPod menu screens as accurately as I can. That means counting the pixels in the tiny LCD screen and reproducing them, dot per dot, on some graphics program. Tools of the trade? A magnifying glass and a sewing needle.
Now, sharks are, in general, severey myopic, which isn't much of a handicap for them, seeing as their sense of smell is pretty much unmatched in the water and they have unique sensorial organs (Ampullae of Lorenzini, if I'm not mistaken) which enable them to sense nerve impulses within their prey, not to mention that sound travels approximately five times faster in water than in air, and they have a custom-made sense of 'hearing' which allows them to sense movement in the water, so they're pretty much well attired for most tasks... except maybe telling a surfer lying on his board with his limbs in the water from a seal or a manatee. That and counting the pixels on an iPod. I can't even see straight out of my good eye anymore.
Wide-eyed (you wouldn't believe how much so!) farewells to all my water- and land dwelling readers alike.
ArabianShark is now putting his eyelids to use. Yes, sharks do have eyelids, but they don't blink, not only because water cleans their eyes all he time but also because they don't want to miss a single detail of their very exciting lives!
First off, it's not raining any more. It's not even cloudy. That's the first and foremost reason for my eyes to hurt. This time of the year the sun never seems to rise very high over the horizon, so wherever I go it seems I'm stuck with staring into the sun half the time. Call me vampire (and some of you *do*, thank you very much...), but I'd take blizzards and halestorms over this "lightfest" (which is hardly a word, but what the hell) any day.
Second, there's the matter of an investigation paper I have to write. Writing comes easily to me (dare you say otherwise?), for as long as it is either fiction writing or something... light, for want of a better word. You know, like a blog or something. Research papers... I guess it mostly depends on the matter being researched (this is to say I'm doing another unrelated research thing at the same time... which has me thrilled). This one is supposed to be on the Apple iPod player. Now, Apple doesn't pay me a red penny to advertise for them (even though they do have some pretty neat stuff), but I must say I rather like that thing. The problem is I'm supposed to document my paper with pictures of the menus. Now this would hardly be any daunting a task, if I could handle a camera properly. Right off the bat my hands tremble too much to take any clear pictures of minute objects. That's anxiety for you. Then one should consider the fact that I don't know the first thing about photography. Last, but not least, the camera I'd be using won't focus the dispaly propperly, even in the hands of my colleague. So, where does that leave me? Replicating the iPod menu screens as accurately as I can. That means counting the pixels in the tiny LCD screen and reproducing them, dot per dot, on some graphics program. Tools of the trade? A magnifying glass and a sewing needle.
Now, sharks are, in general, severey myopic, which isn't much of a handicap for them, seeing as their sense of smell is pretty much unmatched in the water and they have unique sensorial organs (Ampullae of Lorenzini, if I'm not mistaken) which enable them to sense nerve impulses within their prey, not to mention that sound travels approximately five times faster in water than in air, and they have a custom-made sense of 'hearing' which allows them to sense movement in the water, so they're pretty much well attired for most tasks... except maybe telling a surfer lying on his board with his limbs in the water from a seal or a manatee. That and counting the pixels on an iPod. I can't even see straight out of my good eye anymore.
Wide-eyed (you wouldn't believe how much so!) farewells to all my water- and land dwelling readers alike.
ArabianShark is now putting his eyelids to use. Yes, sharks do have eyelids, but they don't blink, not only because water cleans their eyes all he time but also because they don't want to miss a single detail of their very exciting lives!
Woo Hoo!
The Shark is in his element, Ladies and Gents. It's not raining; it's absolutely pouring outside. A true deluge. Also, as you should know, if you're in my area, the wind is a force to be reckoned. This weather is not for the weak of... umbrella. Right, that didn't sound very well, let me rephrase that. This is hardly the weather for weak umbrellas. Bus stops now serve not a dual but a triple purpose: They serve as stopping points for buses (can you believe it?); they serve as shelter from the rain for "unprepared" or "caught off guard" pedestrians and they shelter those of feeble umbrellas from the wind on the outrside. That's right, a commonplace sight around here, groups of people standing in the rain behind bus stops, not in them, with their umbrellas open, waiting for the strong gusts to settle, lest the brittle structures snap. That's hardly an issue for my umbrella, however. It's quite old, the fabric of the canopy is beginning to unweave and some of the seams have had to be re-stitched, but the wiring on the canopy is quite sturdy, as is the main shaft. I fear no wind.
It is raining cats and dogs, yes. Already I've been bitten and clawed by several of those furries. One such cat was surely Erwin Schröedinger's. How do I know, you ask? Well, it was alive.
At any rate, it's a real flood out there. Who's up for skinnydipping?
Soaking wet (and, if you'd like, messy) farewells.
ArabianShark merrily swims away... past the bus station, around the corner of the coffee shop, left at the intersection and off for a stroll. It *is* that flooded outside.
It is raining cats and dogs, yes. Already I've been bitten and clawed by several of those furries. One such cat was surely Erwin Schröedinger's. How do I know, you ask? Well, it was alive.
At any rate, it's a real flood out there. Who's up for skinnydipping?
Soaking wet (and, if you'd like, messy) farewells.
ArabianShark merrily swims away... past the bus station, around the corner of the coffee shop, left at the intersection and off for a stroll. It *is* that flooded outside.
St. Valentine's Day
Ah, Valentines day. The day to re-kindle to flames of your love towards your significant other, add another log to the fire or set the fire in the first place. Of course, if that's your case, you'd be better off during the months of June, July and August, statistically. Unless you're in Oz, in which case even the weather should be in your favour. Go on, mate!
Tis the day for a date, no? A quiet romantic dinner by candle light, a movie perhaps? A few tips you you take this line of thinking:
a) No matter how long you waited for the latest gore/blood/shooting/hack & slash fest, these have "WRONG" printed in great bold red letters all over;
b) Romantic Comedies are the genre of choice of a very large number of people of both genders. This is not, however, one hundred percent guaranteed to be your best pick;
c) Fellow geeks, your lady friend isn't bound to be thrilled about watching all of the Star Wars/Lord of the Rings/Matrix movies back to back.
A Valenine's card may be regarded as a very romantic gesture either to begin or to resume a lovely relationship. It is costumary to write a little poem inside. Again, guys, my pointers:
a) Roses are red, violets are blue. Why do I live? I live to love you. - This never worked for me. Try something else;
b) R0535 r r3d, vi01375 r b1u3... - Leetspeak. Deadly effective, if you're planing a quiet evening all by yourself;
c) Roses are #FF0000, violets are #0000FF... - Geekspeak. Not much better. Perhaps if you're infatuation is a geek as well (yes, there ARE female geeks)... but still not likely;
d) Violets are #0000FF, roses are #FF0000, all my base are belong to you - this is plainly disatrous...
Now is about the time you ask, "Hey, Sharky boy, what are you doing for Valentine's Day?"
Here's a hint...
***I'M WRITTING A BLOG ON ST. VALENTINE'S DAY!!!***
Wishing you all better luck than mine in the tides of love.
ArabianShark has left the building.
Tis the day for a date, no? A quiet romantic dinner by candle light, a movie perhaps? A few tips you you take this line of thinking:
a) No matter how long you waited for the latest gore/blood/shooting/hack & slash fest, these have "WRONG" printed in great bold red letters all over;
b) Romantic Comedies are the genre of choice of a very large number of people of both genders. This is not, however, one hundred percent guaranteed to be your best pick;
c) Fellow geeks, your lady friend isn't bound to be thrilled about watching all of the Star Wars/Lord of the Rings/Matrix movies back to back.
A Valenine's card may be regarded as a very romantic gesture either to begin or to resume a lovely relationship. It is costumary to write a little poem inside. Again, guys, my pointers:
a) Roses are red, violets are blue. Why do I live? I live to love you. - This never worked for me. Try something else;
b) R0535 r r3d, vi01375 r b1u3... - Leetspeak. Deadly effective, if you're planing a quiet evening all by yourself;
c) Roses are #FF0000, violets are #0000FF... - Geekspeak. Not much better. Perhaps if you're infatuation is a geek as well (yes, there ARE female geeks)... but still not likely;
d) Violets are #0000FF, roses are #FF0000, all my base are belong to you - this is plainly disatrous...
Now is about the time you ask, "Hey, Sharky boy, what are you doing for Valentine's Day?"
Here's a hint...
***I'M WRITTING A BLOG ON ST. VALENTINE'S DAY!!!***
Wishing you all better luck than mine in the tides of love.
ArabianShark has left the building.
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