Wednesday, April 9th, 2008 09:37 am
i don't want a pony. i want a clone
A Versus S: The Rise of the Clones (or something)
Because we are about three days away from Operation Reconnect on Saturday and this time I put a post-it note up to remind me that come hail, bad weather, or epic pneumonia, I will be watching this. Um, unless John Sheppard appears on my doorstep. Then all bets are off.
The Definition of Insanity Is...
Theoretically (as in, from the internetz I got my learnings), insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different response. That personally makes no sense to me, because as we all know, doing something exactly the same way over and over is a flat out guarantee that it will have a different response just as you have fallen into the rut. Which is why people are up at four in the morning when their hard drive inexplicably crashes and they lose all their media after saving it the same way as always. Not that this has happened to me. But I have heard of it.
However. At work, this is the actual definition of sane. Doing the same test over and over and over until it starts working. I literally think that at some point, someone is going to come in here and find me sitting in my bra and a pair of sunglasses talking to my imaginary best friend Bob the Toaster. It's just that likely. Assuming I remember to wear a bra.
It's over soon. Well, not really. But the part that's making me have some kind of strange interaction with the not-real world (ask
chopchica about my sudden desire to turn all of SGA into actual vampires; this can't end well).
Music
I rarely rec music, but if you are say, in a bad mood? The rageful kind? Falls Apart by Hurt is doing good things for me. It tricked me. The beginning is faintly slow emo by way of Staind and I was all, whee mope, oh woe my hard life, then suddenly there's like, that virtual feeling of being in a room full of guitars and your job is to smash them all. Yes. That please. It's on youtube (a lot), but I can't listen from here to see which version sounds right.
Because we are about three days away from Operation Reconnect on Saturday and this time I put a post-it note up to remind me that come hail, bad weather, or epic pneumonia, I will be watching this. Um, unless John Sheppard appears on my doorstep. Then all bets are off.
Linked first bygweniriol:
the following post is [about] anonymous hosted by Henry Jenkin's blog, apparently from an (anonymous but not Anonymous) student. It, er, has nothing particularly new to say that anyone on lj hasn't been saying, but it's a nice and concise summary of events so far.
Linked by JF's user Nigredo on Operation: Mock at JF:
Serious Business, hosted by Citypaperonline, a pretty darn good article about Anonymous, Scientology, the internet, et al. Really, really interesting.
The Definition of Insanity Is...
Theoretically (as in, from the internetz I got my learnings), insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different response. That personally makes no sense to me, because as we all know, doing something exactly the same way over and over is a flat out guarantee that it will have a different response just as you have fallen into the rut. Which is why people are up at four in the morning when their hard drive inexplicably crashes and they lose all their media after saving it the same way as always. Not that this has happened to me. But I have heard of it.
However. At work, this is the actual definition of sane. Doing the same test over and over and over until it starts working. I literally think that at some point, someone is going to come in here and find me sitting in my bra and a pair of sunglasses talking to my imaginary best friend Bob the Toaster. It's just that likely. Assuming I remember to wear a bra.
It's over soon. Well, not really. But the part that's making me have some kind of strange interaction with the not-real world (ask
Music
I rarely rec music, but if you are say, in a bad mood? The rageful kind? Falls Apart by Hurt is doing good things for me. It tricked me. The beginning is faintly slow emo by way of Staind and I was all, whee mope, oh woe my hard life, then suddenly there's like, that virtual feeling of being in a room full of guitars and your job is to smash them all. Yes. That please. It's on youtube (a lot), but I can't listen from here to see which version sounds right.
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From:*taps chin thoughtfully. I would like to hear more about this. You know, later, when you have free time and school is a little easier to bear. See, I'm a sensitive enabler. That's something, right?
But really. Vampires. Even if you don't go the Jossian route, John as a Nosferatu? With the dark and the menacing? Um. I request more. Plz.
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From:Hm. Something like this (http://seperis.livejournal.com/139539.html?style=mine#cutid1). Except not in second person.
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From:But otherwise, YES, yay, I approve and want! And would offer to do things for, if it became a reality (after school work. and potential sanity-recovery).
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From:He wakes up with a spread of searing heat across his face like warm pitch, creeping down his throat like long fingers. He sits up abruptly, scrabbling back against the wall, hand covering burning skin, expecting the feel of blisters raising up against his palm, but there's nothing but the prickle of unshaven skin.
Opening his eyes, Rodney stares at the small barred window, unshuttered for the first time in memory, at honey gold light spilling onto the bare wood floor.
It's been--he doesn't know. Too long. Since he saw the sun.
Clutching the wall, he turns disbelieving eyes on the open door of his cell, the pile of clothes neatly folded by the door. It's a trick, he knows it, but when he glances out, he sees into a deserted room and beyond, a front door open to the world, so bright his eyes ache.
Licking dry lips, he tastes dried blood and crusted salt, John still filling his mouth; he doesn't know how long he crouches there, staring at the door, the clothes, the slow wave of a distant tree in a warm summer breeze. It's not real, or too real, or something half between them when he realizes he's forgotten how to talk.
Later, wearing his own clothes for the first time in--he doesn't know? Does he?--he steps into pure daylight and stares in disbelief at the quiet fields waving golden brown in the distance; at grass so green it feels obscene, unnatural; at a tree stretching leafy arms toward the sky. Everything is chaotic colors and too much activity, too much, Jesus, he can't think with this much happening around him.
When he opens his eyes again, he's crouched in the corner of his cell, arms locked around his knees, staring at that square of golden light as it crawls toward the door like it, too, wants to be anywhere but here.
He doesn't know what scares him more: that this isn't real, or that it is.
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From:I want this.
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From:(To lillian13 -- I love that icon!)
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From:There would be the question of their food supply -- would there be blood packs instead of MREs? New synthetic measures developed by Carson, geneticist supreme (and wouldn't that put a new twist on the Wraith retrovirus - up the food supply!)? Or would each person have their own person or people? (Total BDSM community - Renfields and sheep, all collared and claimed.)
God, this is fascinating to ponder. (Must not get sucked in.)
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From:It wouldn't be very practical to bring an entire herd through the gate. They'd probably have freeze-dried blood, hoping to find a new food source in Pegasus.
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From:Falls Apart by Hurt
When I'm feeling emoesque and rageful at the same time, this is the song for hours on end.
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From:*loves*
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From:Re: clones, not ponies - not even these ponies (http://www.thinkgeek.com/tshirts/gaming/a078/)? 'Cause I kinda sorta think they rock...
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From:Well. Those ponies. Maybe.
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From:!!! Thanks for the updates on all things Anonymous.
I will be watching this.
Is there a central place to keep track of it all?
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Operation Reconnect
From: (Anonymous) Date: 2008-04-09 11:14 pm (UTC)-random Anon :)
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Re: Operation Reconnect
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Re: Operation Reconnect
From:Man, there are also meeting in Brussels.
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From:ps: I made an LJ feed!
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