Here's a little something for our readers in Finland.
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Sunday, January 22, 2012
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For yer enjoyment
Excerpt from Chapter 16 of Rose Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by Keiran Halcyon:
Minnie walked towards ye forest; I followed uncertainly in 'er wake. We stopped just before ye tree line.
“What be we waitin' for? ”
“Our intentions t' enter ye Forest should 'ave been noticed by Cerelian, she will come shortly, ” replied Minnie, “I cannot enter with ye, 'n only with 'er by yer side can ye enter ye tree line. Avast!”
We waited for another five minutes until I heard a soft rustle o' leaves comin' from ye tree line. Out o' ye shadows o' ye forest appeared a tall naked wench. Ye first thing that caught me eye about 'er because o' ye contrast, were a dark triangle settled between toned 'n strong legs. 'er wide hips tapered t' a narrower waist, 'er stomach were flat 'n athletic, while full breasts were tapered with slightly brown nipples. Yarr! Intelligent blue eyes glittered in 'er narrow, pointed face, while a wild mane o' dark brown hair fell into ye small o'er back. Which I could hardly begin t' guess 'er true age for some reason, she seemed as hale as an old wench in 'er eyes, but still ye beauty o' youth adorned 'er body.
“Sister McGonagall, ” greeted ye druidess with a slight bow o' ye head. 'er voice were silky smooth, not like Professor Snape’s ominous tones, but almost seductive in nature. Ahoy!
“Sister Cerelian, ” returned Minnie.
“It 'as been a long time since ye embraced ye beliefs, ” said Cerelian.
“I 'ad t' honour a debt t' an old hearty, 'n 'awe been busy ever since, ” replied Minnie.
“The druids respect that, 'n respect yer decision t' remain in wizardin' society, ye would still be welcome with us at any time, ” said Cerelian. Avast, ye scurvy dog!
“I appreciate that greatly, Sister, ” said Minnie with another bow o' ye head. Yarr! Cerelian now turned those strange blue eyes on me.
“Are ye ye one who wishes t' learn 'n train 'n eventually become a Druidess? ” said Cerelian. Yarr!
“Yes, ” I answered shortly.
“Why would ye wish this? Why would ye so forsake ye comforts o' ye wizardin' world ye 'ave just barely entered 'n hardly understood?”
Me mind raced, it were clear that Cerelian knew about me from that statement. Minnie 'ad said she were in correspondence with ye druidess, what they said in ye letters I 'ad no idea, but it were clear now that Cerelian knew a lot.
“I shall be honest 'n say that at ye start, all I wanted t' do were practice Nudatio in peace at Hogwarts, as ye circumstances o' me first eleven years o' life were hardly ideal, clothes 'ad become an annoyance t' me durin' those years. Shiver me timbers! Minnie allowed me t' continue ye practice under ye initial pretence o' druidic belief. But as she told me more 'n more o' what bein' a druidess be ye more a sense o' rightness about it rang in me. Until I finally told 'er o' me determination t' train as she did when she were a druidess, ” I said with more confidence than I felt. Yar!
“Interestin', ” said Cerelian, a small smile graced 'er lips as 'er eyes surveyed me. Arrr! Which I suddenly felt a gentle ... somethin' lay itself o'er me mind ... but just as quickly ye feelin' were gone 'n Cerelian’s smile grew large. “You will do fine. Yarr! Please remove yer clothes. Shiver me timbers!”
Automatically, I fin'ered ye amulet 'n me ‘apparent’ clothes dissipated into thin air. If Cerelian were surprised she certainly did not show it. She turned t' Minnie.
“I thought it best t' get 'er started on at least one aspect o' druidism, ” said Minnie. Cerelian nodded.
“Thank ye, it will most certainly sawe time if she 'as gotten past 'er shame already. Ahoy! ” Ye druidess held out 'er hand. “Please remove ye amulet as well; I shall keep it safe durin' yer six week stay 'ere. Avast, ye scurvy dog! ” I reluctantly handed it o'er, 'n for ye first time I were completely naked as ye day I were born. “This be where ye must say goodbye t' yer mother. Avast!”
I sighed 'n with a heawy heart hugged Minnie goodbye.
***
First chapter from beckymac666's Forbiden Fruit: the tempation of Edward Cullen:
Chapter 1 - Altantiana
Shiver me timbers! Hey, me names Atlantiana Rebekah Loren (but everyone calls me Tiana or just plain Tiaa). Which I be a 16 year old wench 'n I liwe in Forks, Washin'ton! Me hair be long 'n pale like spun gold 'n skims t' me waist like a pale shimmerin' amber mist. Me eyes be deep forgetminot blue 'n me delicate fentures be lilly white 'n pure as ye winter snow in moonlight. Arrr! I've been told by loads o' sleazy, ugly, HORNY guys that I be real pretty 'n look like a model or a bunny wench (some o' ye guys who like me be really old 'n try t' make opt with me its disgustin'n weird !) but basically a lot o' ye girls I meet tell a different story. They say I be too ivory white 'n ethereal 'n too skinny 'n that I look anorexic which i don't care about, but I think its seriously disrespectful t' people with REAL eatin' disorders (btw i'm so totally not anorexic! Which I eat loads I just never gain weight 'n I be not thin enough t' be anorexic anyways, I think they were just bein' BIATCHES especially this one ratty brain called Ellie Mayfair who I hope freakin' DIES in PAIN with SHIT ON HER FACE! Sorry, I be not really such a batch but she be SO horrible if ye met 'er you'd think ye same !) Avast!
Anyways I be quite tall 'n slim 'n but with really big boobs that I used t' HATE because they look noticeable on me slender body 'n draw t' much attention but now i like them 'n don't care who stares at me! Which I 'ave a lip ring 'n recently put black 'n indigo 'n magenta streaks in me long pale blond hair. Which I smell like mint 'n cinnamon. Which I wear mostly black 'n hot pink, deep purple 'n neon blue 'n listen t' COOL music!
Yar! It be me first day at school in forks as I just moved 'ere t' live with new foster parents Dave 'n Marie. They be nice 'n all wery hole some sweet people but it be not like havin' a real family. I'we been hurt t' many times t' let people close t' me 'n I don't talk t' them wery much. Me real mom died when I were born 'n I never knew me real dad. Which I sometimes wonder what 'e be like 'n if I will ever get t' met 'im. Dave gave me a ride t' school 'n I smiled faintly as 'e wished me good luck 'n I got out o' ye car 'n went into ye school. Loads o' people freakin' stared at me as I walked down ye hall. Which I were wearin' tight black leather pants with silver chains at ye waste 'n a red fishnet-like top 'n ye could see me black lacy bra through it. Which I ignored whispers 'n ye big pink cheerleader imbosils pointin' at me. Which I were used t' it 'n I paid no at-tension t' ye guys askin' desperately for me number (like hell I'd even LOOK at ye horny little donkeys !) 'n told a ditsy blond cheerleader called Jessica t' STFU (!) when she called me a freak! Next time she tries anythin' I'll hit 'er in ye eye cause NO ONE messes with me nemore! Me first day I were relay board, I sat gazin' out o' ye window into ye gray cloud-embittered sky for most o' ye mornin', Me teachers all looked at me disprovable but said nothin' cause they probably new I were a foster kid 'n a Gothic 'n didn't want t' upset me in case I cut them up as they slept,.
Me ears be pierced four times, I 'awe a tattoo o' a scorpion (like S me birth-sign !) on me ankle 'n a Gothic cross on me shoulder, 'n on me hand i 'awe a weird birthmark in ye shape o' a seven-pointed star that I've 'ad all me life. Arrr! Yer probably wanderin' why I be botherin' t' tell ye this, well I tell ye now I be no ordinary sixteen year old wench. Which I 'awe a secret, a dark 'n forbidden secret witch I be only just beginnin' t' understand. Yarr! When I sleep I hear whispers in another language 'n even though I understand them at ye time, when I wake up i can't remember it! Which I also see weird faces in me dreams that fade t' nothin'ness when I open me eyes 'n I swear out ye corner o' me eye me birthmark glows shockin' bright gold 'n gets relay hot sometimes but when I look properly it be back t' normal boarding scar-color! Which I be really gracefull like ye runnin' anti-lopes when I run wery fast 'n be stronger 'n faster than most people. Which I used t' just think i were relay athletic but now I be not so sure, I think there might be somethin' else at work, somethin' so much more mysterious 'n eeire. Shiver me timbers! Ye truth hovers so softly on ye brink o' me memory sometimes but if only i could remember ye weird things that clung t' ye edge o' me mind as I slept!
At lunch I sat alone in ye corner 'n scanned ye cafeteria quietly with me eyes smolderin' dark blue beheath me long black lashes 'n me slim thighs curled under me. Which it were ye n I noticed an unbelievably jaw-droopin'ly hawt HAWT HAAAAAAAAWT dude with tusseted blondey-brown hair, golden yellow eyes like wells o' hot caramel 'n pale sexy features. Which 'e were tall 'n mussel 'n looked like 'e were wearin' eyeliner 'n me body got hot 'n cold all at once as I looked at 'im. I'd never felt this way about anyone before 'n I'd totally never felt this weird feelin' that I'd met someone before but I 'ad no idea where 'n i knew it were impassible because I'd freakin' remember someone THAT hawt! A wench sat next t'im with long brown hair with 'er arms dripped o'er 'im like a freakin' flesh-eatin' plant so i thought well whatevah, hes taken. Arrr! She wasn't nearly as hawt as 'e were, she wasn't ugly though. Which I figured I were maybe prettier then 'er. Which I newer really saw meself as beautiful but i'd guessed from thinks others 'ad said, plus this wench wasn't great lookin' but anyways I'd never try t' pilch with another girls' BF cause thats just low. So I got up t' leave ye hall thinkin' I'd go 'n smoke some bald drugs in ye locker room while no one were there. Shiver me timbers! As I waked o'er t'e exit I couldn't help but notice ye hawt pale guys musky eyes as they met mine. Which I locked away hurriedly. Yarr! Which I smocked dope in ye locker room for a bit then I wondered t' me next class. Which I bumped into someone in ye corridor 'n me bocks fell everywhere! FRICK! FRICK! FRIIIICKK!
"WTF!" I screamed loudly, "watch where yer FREAKING goin' ye asshole!" (i 'ave anger problems)
"I be so so sorry" 'e said in a woice like wet heaven "please forgive me me lady"
Which it were ye hawt pale guy!
***
And finally, chapter two from the classic Eye of Argon by Jim Theis:
-2-
Yarr! Arrivin' after dusk in Gorzom, grignr descended down a dismal alley, reinin'is horse before a beaten pub. Ye redhaired giant strode into ye dimly lit hostelry reekin' o' foul odors, 'n cheap grog. Ahoy! Ye air were heavy with chockin' fumes spewing from smolderin'torches encased within theden's earthen packed walls. Tables were clustered with groups o' drunken scallywags, 'n cutthroats, tossin' dice, or makin' love t' willin' wenches.
Eyein' a slender female crouched alone at a nearby bench, Grignr advanced wishin' t' wholesomely occupy 'is time. Ye flickerin' torches cast weird shafts o' luminescence dancin' o'er ye half naked harlot o'is choice, 'er strin'y orchid twines o' hair swayin' gracefully o'er ye lithe opaque nose, as she raised a half drained mug t'er pale red lips. Yarr!
Glancin' upward, ye allurin' complexion noted ye stalwart giant as 'e rapidly approached. A faint glimmer sparked from ye pair o' deep blue ovals o' ye amorous female as she motioned toward Grignr, enticin'im t' join 'er. Yarr! Ye barbarian seated himself upon a stool at ye wenches side, exposin'is body, naked save for a loin cloth brandishin' a long steel broad cutlass, an iron spiraled battle helmet, 'n a thick leather sandals, t'er unobstructed view.
"Thou hast need t' occupy yer time, barbarian", questioned ye female? Avast, ye scurvy dog!
Arrr! "Only if somethin' worth offerin' be within me reach." Stated Grignr, as 'is hands crept t' embrace ye temptin' female, who welcomed them with open willin'ness.
"From where d'ye come barbarian, 'n by what be ye called?" Gasped ye complyin' wench, as Grignr smothered 'er lips with ye blazin' touch o'is flamin' mouth. Avast!
Ye engrossed titan ignored ye queries o' ye inquisitiwe female, pullin'er towards 'im 'n crushin'er saggin' nipples t'is yearnin' chest. Without struggle she gave in, windin'er soft arms around ye harshly bronzedhide o' Grignr corded shoulder blades, as 'is calloused hands caressed 'er firm protrudin' busts.
"Ye make lowe well wench," Admitted Grignr as 'e reached for ye wessel o' potent grog 'is charge 'ad been quaffin'. Ahoy!
A flyin' foot caught ye mug Grignr 'ad taken hold o', sendin' its blood red contents sloshin' o'er a flickerin' crescent; leashin' tongues o' bright orange flame t' ye foot trodden floor. Yar!
Yarr! "Remove yeself Sirrah, ye wench belongs t' me;" Blabbered a drunken soldier, too far consumed by ye influences o'is virile brew t' take note o' ye superior size o'is adversary.
Grignr lithly bounded from ye startled female, 'is face lit up t' an ashen red ferocity, 'n eyes locked in a searin' feral blaze toward ye swayin' soldier.
Yarr! "T' hell with ye, braggard!" Bellowed ye angered Ecordian, as 'e hefted 'is finely honed broad cutlass.
Ye staggerin' soldier clumsily reached towards ye pommel o'is danglin' cutlass, but before 'is hands ever touched ye oaken hilt a silvered flash were slicin' ye heavy air. Ye thews o' ye savages lashin' right arm bulged from ye glistenin' bronzed hide as 'is blade bit deeply into ye soldiers neck, lopin' off ye confused head o'is senseless tormentor.
With a nauseatin' thud ye severed oval toppled t' ye floor, as ye segregated torso o' Grignr's bovine antagonist swayed, then collapsed in a pool o' swirled crimson.
Avast, ye scurvy dog! In ye confusion ye soldier's fellows confronted Grignr with unsheathed cutlasses, directed toward ye latters scowlin' make-up. Arrr!
"Ye slut should 'ave picked 'is quarry more carefully!" Roared ye wictor in a mockin' baritone growl, as 'e wiped 'is drippin' blade on ye prostrate form, 'n returned it t' its scabbard.
"Ye fool should 'awe shown more prudence, howewer ye shall rue yer actions while rottin' in ye pits." Stated one o' ye sprawled soldier's comrades.
Grignr's hand began t' remowe 'is blade from its leather housin', but retarded ye motion in face o' ye blades wavin' before 'is face.
"Dismiss yer hand from ye hilt, barbarbian, or ye shall find a foot o' steel sheathed in yer gizzard. Yarr!"
Grignr weighed 'is position observin'is plight, where-upon 'e took ye soldier's advice as ye only logical choice. T' attempt t' hack 'is way from 'is present predicament could only warrant certain death. Which 'e were o' no mind t' brin' upon 'is own demise if an alternate path presented itself. Ye will t' necessitate 'is life forced 'im t' yield t' ye superior force in hopes o' a moment o' carlessness later upon ye part o'is captors in which 'e could effect a more plausible means o' escape. Yar!
"Ye may steady yer arms, I will go without a struggle." Yarr!
"Yer decision be a wise one, yet perhaps ye would 'ave been better off 'ad ye forced death," ye soldier's mouth wrinkled t' a sadistic grin o' knowin' mirth as 'e prodded 'is prisoner on with 'is cutlass point. Yar!
Ahoy! After an indiscriminate period o' marchin' through slinkin' alleyways 'n dim moonlighted streets ye procession confronted a massive seraglio. Ye palace area were surrounded by an iron gratin', with a lush garden upon all sides. Shiver me timbers!
Ye group were admitted through ye gilded gateway 'n Grignr were ledalong a stone pathway bordered by plush vegitation lustfully enhanced by ye moon's shimmerin' rays. Yarr! Upon reachin' ye palace ye group were granted entrance, 'n after several minutes o' explanation, led through several windin' corridors t' a richly draped chamber.
Confrontin' ye group were a short stocky man seated upona golden throne. Tapestries o' richly draped regal blue silk covered all walls o' ye chamber, while ye steps leadin' t' ye throne were plated with sparklin' white ivory. Ye man upon ye throne 'ad a naked wench seated at each o'is arms, 'n a trusted adwisor seated astern o'im. At each cornwr o' ye chamber a guard stood at attention, with upraised pikes supported in their hands, golden chainmail adornin' their torso's 'n barred helmets emittin' scarlet plumes enshroudin' their heads. Ye man rose from 'is throne t' ye dias surroundin' it. 'is plush turquois robe dangled loosely from 'is chuncky frame.
Avast, ye scurvy dog! Ye soldiers surroundin' Grignr fell t' their knees with heads bowed t' ye stone masonry o' ye floor in fearful dignity t' their sovereign, leige.
"Explain ye purpose o' this intrusion upon me chateau!"
"Yer sirenity, resplendent in noble grandeur, we 'ave brought this lubber before ye (ye soldier gestured toward Grignr) for ye redress or yer all knowin' wisdon in judgement regardin'is fate."
"Down on yer knees, lout, 'n pay proper homage t' yer sowereign!" commanded ye pudgy noble o' Grignr. Arrr!
Shiver me timbers! "By ye surly beard o' Mrifk, Grignr kneels t' no man!" scowled ye massive barbarian.
"Ye dare t' deal this blasphemous act t' me! Ye be indeed brawe stranger, yet yer valor smacks o' foolishness."
"I find ye t' be ye only fool, sittin' upon yer pompous throne, enhancin' ye rollin' flabs o' yer belly in ye midst o' yer elaborate luxuryand ..." Ye soldier standin' at Grignr's side smote 'im heavily in ye face with ye flat o'is cutlass, cutting short ye harsh words 'n knockin'is battered helmet t' ye masonry with an echo-in' clang. Yar!
Ye paunchy noble's saggin' round face flushed suddenly pale, then pastily lit up t' a lustrous cherry red radiance. Shiver me timbers! 'is lips trembled with malicious rage, while emittin' a muffled sibilant gibberish. 'is saggin' flabs rolled like a tub o' upset jelly, then compressed as 'e sucked in 'is gut in an attempt t' conceal 'is softness.
Ye prince regained 'is statue, then spoke t' ye soldiers surroundin' Grignr, 'is face conformin' t' an ugly expression o' sadistic humor.
"Take this uncouth heathen t' ye vault o' misery, 'n be sure that 'is agonies be long 'n drawn out before death can release 'im."
"As ye wish sire, yer command shall be heeded immediately," answered ye soldier t' starboard o' Grignr as 'e stared into ye barbarians seemin'ly unaffected face.
Ye advisor seated in ye back o' ye noble slowly rose 'n adwanced t' ye side o'is master, motionin' ye wenches seated at 'is sides t' remove themselwes. Which 'e lowered 'is head 'n whispered t' ye noble. Avast, ye scurvy dog!
"Eminence, ye punishment ye 'ave decreed will cause much misery t' this scum, yet it will last only a short time, then release 'im t' a land beyond ye sufferin's o' ye human body. Why not mellow 'im in one o' ye subterranean vaults for a few days, then send 'im t' life labor in one o' yer buried mines.
T' one such as 'e, a life spent in ye confinement o' ye stygian pits will be an infinitely more appropiate 'n lastin' torture."
Ye noble cupped 'is droopin' double chin in ye folds o'is brimin' palm, meditatin' for a moment upon ye rationality o' ye councilor's word's, then raised 'is shaggy brown eyebrows 'n turned toward ye advisor, eyes aglow.
"... As always Agafnd, ye speak with great wisdom. Yer words rin' o' great knowledge concernin' ye nature o' one such as 'e," sayeth, ye king. Ye noble turned toward ye prisoner with a noticable shimmer reflectin' in 'is frog-like eyes, 'n 'is lips contortin' t' a greasy grin. Avast! "I 'awe decided t' void me previous decree. Ye prisoner shall be removed t' one o' ye palaces underground waults. Ahoy! There 'e shall stay until I 'ave decided that 'e 'as sufficiently simmered, whereupon 'e be t' be allowed t' spend ye remainder o'is days at labor in one o' me mines."
Upon hearin' this, Grignr realized that 'is fate would be far less merciful than death t' one such as 'e, who be used t' roamin' ye countryside at will. A life o' confinement would be more than 'is body 'n mind could stand up t'. This type o' life would be immeasurably worse than death. Ahoy! Shiver me timbers!
"I shall never understand ye ways if yer twisted ciwilization. Which I simply defend me honor 'n be condemned t' life confinement, by a pig who sits on 'is royal ass wooin' whores, 'n knows nothin' o' ye affairs o' ye land 'e imagines t' rule!" Lectures Grignr?
"Enough o' this! Away with ye slut before I loose me control!"
Avast, ye scurvy dog! Seein' ye peril o'is position, Grignr searched for an openin'. Crushin' prudence t' ye sward, 'e plowed into ye soldier at 'is left arm takin' hold o'is cutlass, 'n boundin' t' ye dias supportin' ye prince before ye startled guards could regain their composure. Agafnd leaped Grignr 'n 'is sire, but found a cutlass blade permeatin' ye length o'is ribs before 'e could loosed 'is weapon. Yarr!
Yarr! Ye councilor slumped t'is knees as Grignr slid 'is crimsoned blade from Agfnd's rib cage. Ye fat prince stood undulatin' in insurmountable fear before ye edge o' ye fiery maned comet, 'is flabs o' jellied blubber pulsatin' t'n fro in ripples o' flowin' terror.
"Where be yer wisdom 'n power now, yer magjesty?" Growled Grignr. Yarr!
Ye prince went rigid as Grignr discerned 'im glazin' o'er 'is shoulder. Which 'e swlived t' note ye cause o' ye noble's attention, raised 'is cutlass o'er 'is head, 'n prepared t' leash a vicious downward cleft, but fell short as ye haft o' a steel rimed pike clashed against 'is unguarded skull. Then blackness 'n solitude. Silence enshroudin'n ewer peaceful reind supreme. Avast, ye scurvy dog!
"Before me, sirrah! Before me as always! Ha, Ha Ha, Haaaa ... ", nobly cackled.
Minnie walked towards ye forest; I followed uncertainly in 'er wake. We stopped just before ye tree line.
“What be we waitin' for? ”
“Our intentions t' enter ye Forest should 'ave been noticed by Cerelian, she will come shortly, ” replied Minnie, “I cannot enter with ye, 'n only with 'er by yer side can ye enter ye tree line. Avast!”
We waited for another five minutes until I heard a soft rustle o' leaves comin' from ye tree line. Out o' ye shadows o' ye forest appeared a tall naked wench. Ye first thing that caught me eye about 'er because o' ye contrast, were a dark triangle settled between toned 'n strong legs. 'er wide hips tapered t' a narrower waist, 'er stomach were flat 'n athletic, while full breasts were tapered with slightly brown nipples. Yarr! Intelligent blue eyes glittered in 'er narrow, pointed face, while a wild mane o' dark brown hair fell into ye small o'er back. Which I could hardly begin t' guess 'er true age for some reason, she seemed as hale as an old wench in 'er eyes, but still ye beauty o' youth adorned 'er body.
“Sister McGonagall, ” greeted ye druidess with a slight bow o' ye head. 'er voice were silky smooth, not like Professor Snape’s ominous tones, but almost seductive in nature. Ahoy!
“Sister Cerelian, ” returned Minnie.
“It 'as been a long time since ye embraced ye beliefs, ” said Cerelian.
“I 'ad t' honour a debt t' an old hearty, 'n 'awe been busy ever since, ” replied Minnie.
“The druids respect that, 'n respect yer decision t' remain in wizardin' society, ye would still be welcome with us at any time, ” said Cerelian. Avast, ye scurvy dog!
“I appreciate that greatly, Sister, ” said Minnie with another bow o' ye head. Yarr! Cerelian now turned those strange blue eyes on me.
“Are ye ye one who wishes t' learn 'n train 'n eventually become a Druidess? ” said Cerelian. Yarr!
“Yes, ” I answered shortly.
“Why would ye wish this? Why would ye so forsake ye comforts o' ye wizardin' world ye 'ave just barely entered 'n hardly understood?”
Me mind raced, it were clear that Cerelian knew about me from that statement. Minnie 'ad said she were in correspondence with ye druidess, what they said in ye letters I 'ad no idea, but it were clear now that Cerelian knew a lot.
“I shall be honest 'n say that at ye start, all I wanted t' do were practice Nudatio in peace at Hogwarts, as ye circumstances o' me first eleven years o' life were hardly ideal, clothes 'ad become an annoyance t' me durin' those years. Shiver me timbers! Minnie allowed me t' continue ye practice under ye initial pretence o' druidic belief. But as she told me more 'n more o' what bein' a druidess be ye more a sense o' rightness about it rang in me. Until I finally told 'er o' me determination t' train as she did when she were a druidess, ” I said with more confidence than I felt. Yar!
“Interestin', ” said Cerelian, a small smile graced 'er lips as 'er eyes surveyed me. Arrr! Which I suddenly felt a gentle ... somethin' lay itself o'er me mind ... but just as quickly ye feelin' were gone 'n Cerelian’s smile grew large. “You will do fine. Yarr! Please remove yer clothes. Shiver me timbers!”
Automatically, I fin'ered ye amulet 'n me ‘apparent’ clothes dissipated into thin air. If Cerelian were surprised she certainly did not show it. She turned t' Minnie.
“I thought it best t' get 'er started on at least one aspect o' druidism, ” said Minnie. Cerelian nodded.
“Thank ye, it will most certainly sawe time if she 'as gotten past 'er shame already. Ahoy! ” Ye druidess held out 'er hand. “Please remove ye amulet as well; I shall keep it safe durin' yer six week stay 'ere. Avast, ye scurvy dog! ” I reluctantly handed it o'er, 'n for ye first time I were completely naked as ye day I were born. “This be where ye must say goodbye t' yer mother. Avast!”
I sighed 'n with a heawy heart hugged Minnie goodbye.
***
First chapter from beckymac666's Forbiden Fruit: the tempation of Edward Cullen:
Chapter 1 - Altantiana
Shiver me timbers! Hey, me names Atlantiana Rebekah Loren (but everyone calls me Tiana or just plain Tiaa). Which I be a 16 year old wench 'n I liwe in Forks, Washin'ton! Me hair be long 'n pale like spun gold 'n skims t' me waist like a pale shimmerin' amber mist. Me eyes be deep forgetminot blue 'n me delicate fentures be lilly white 'n pure as ye winter snow in moonlight. Arrr! I've been told by loads o' sleazy, ugly, HORNY guys that I be real pretty 'n look like a model or a bunny wench (some o' ye guys who like me be really old 'n try t' make opt with me its disgustin'n weird !) but basically a lot o' ye girls I meet tell a different story. They say I be too ivory white 'n ethereal 'n too skinny 'n that I look anorexic which i don't care about, but I think its seriously disrespectful t' people with REAL eatin' disorders (btw i'm so totally not anorexic! Which I eat loads I just never gain weight 'n I be not thin enough t' be anorexic anyways, I think they were just bein' BIATCHES especially this one ratty brain called Ellie Mayfair who I hope freakin' DIES in PAIN with SHIT ON HER FACE! Sorry, I be not really such a batch but she be SO horrible if ye met 'er you'd think ye same !) Avast!
Anyways I be quite tall 'n slim 'n but with really big boobs that I used t' HATE because they look noticeable on me slender body 'n draw t' much attention but now i like them 'n don't care who stares at me! Which I 'ave a lip ring 'n recently put black 'n indigo 'n magenta streaks in me long pale blond hair. Which I smell like mint 'n cinnamon. Which I wear mostly black 'n hot pink, deep purple 'n neon blue 'n listen t' COOL music!
Yar! It be me first day at school in forks as I just moved 'ere t' live with new foster parents Dave 'n Marie. They be nice 'n all wery hole some sweet people but it be not like havin' a real family. I'we been hurt t' many times t' let people close t' me 'n I don't talk t' them wery much. Me real mom died when I were born 'n I never knew me real dad. Which I sometimes wonder what 'e be like 'n if I will ever get t' met 'im. Dave gave me a ride t' school 'n I smiled faintly as 'e wished me good luck 'n I got out o' ye car 'n went into ye school. Loads o' people freakin' stared at me as I walked down ye hall. Which I were wearin' tight black leather pants with silver chains at ye waste 'n a red fishnet-like top 'n ye could see me black lacy bra through it. Which I ignored whispers 'n ye big pink cheerleader imbosils pointin' at me. Which I were used t' it 'n I paid no at-tension t' ye guys askin' desperately for me number (like hell I'd even LOOK at ye horny little donkeys !) 'n told a ditsy blond cheerleader called Jessica t' STFU (!) when she called me a freak! Next time she tries anythin' I'll hit 'er in ye eye cause NO ONE messes with me nemore! Me first day I were relay board, I sat gazin' out o' ye window into ye gray cloud-embittered sky for most o' ye mornin', Me teachers all looked at me disprovable but said nothin' cause they probably new I were a foster kid 'n a Gothic 'n didn't want t' upset me in case I cut them up as they slept,.
Me ears be pierced four times, I 'awe a tattoo o' a scorpion (like S me birth-sign !) on me ankle 'n a Gothic cross on me shoulder, 'n on me hand i 'awe a weird birthmark in ye shape o' a seven-pointed star that I've 'ad all me life. Arrr! Yer probably wanderin' why I be botherin' t' tell ye this, well I tell ye now I be no ordinary sixteen year old wench. Which I 'awe a secret, a dark 'n forbidden secret witch I be only just beginnin' t' understand. Yarr! When I sleep I hear whispers in another language 'n even though I understand them at ye time, when I wake up i can't remember it! Which I also see weird faces in me dreams that fade t' nothin'ness when I open me eyes 'n I swear out ye corner o' me eye me birthmark glows shockin' bright gold 'n gets relay hot sometimes but when I look properly it be back t' normal boarding scar-color! Which I be really gracefull like ye runnin' anti-lopes when I run wery fast 'n be stronger 'n faster than most people. Which I used t' just think i were relay athletic but now I be not so sure, I think there might be somethin' else at work, somethin' so much more mysterious 'n eeire. Shiver me timbers! Ye truth hovers so softly on ye brink o' me memory sometimes but if only i could remember ye weird things that clung t' ye edge o' me mind as I slept!
At lunch I sat alone in ye corner 'n scanned ye cafeteria quietly with me eyes smolderin' dark blue beheath me long black lashes 'n me slim thighs curled under me. Which it were ye n I noticed an unbelievably jaw-droopin'ly hawt HAWT HAAAAAAAAWT dude with tusseted blondey-brown hair, golden yellow eyes like wells o' hot caramel 'n pale sexy features. Which 'e were tall 'n mussel 'n looked like 'e were wearin' eyeliner 'n me body got hot 'n cold all at once as I looked at 'im. I'd never felt this way about anyone before 'n I'd totally never felt this weird feelin' that I'd met someone before but I 'ad no idea where 'n i knew it were impassible because I'd freakin' remember someone THAT hawt! A wench sat next t'im with long brown hair with 'er arms dripped o'er 'im like a freakin' flesh-eatin' plant so i thought well whatevah, hes taken. Arrr! She wasn't nearly as hawt as 'e were, she wasn't ugly though. Which I figured I were maybe prettier then 'er. Which I newer really saw meself as beautiful but i'd guessed from thinks others 'ad said, plus this wench wasn't great lookin' but anyways I'd never try t' pilch with another girls' BF cause thats just low. So I got up t' leave ye hall thinkin' I'd go 'n smoke some bald drugs in ye locker room while no one were there. Shiver me timbers! As I waked o'er t'e exit I couldn't help but notice ye hawt pale guys musky eyes as they met mine. Which I locked away hurriedly. Yarr! Which I smocked dope in ye locker room for a bit then I wondered t' me next class. Which I bumped into someone in ye corridor 'n me bocks fell everywhere! FRICK! FRICK! FRIIIICKK!
"WTF!" I screamed loudly, "watch where yer FREAKING goin' ye asshole!" (i 'ave anger problems)
"I be so so sorry" 'e said in a woice like wet heaven "please forgive me me lady"
Which it were ye hawt pale guy!
***
And finally, chapter two from the classic Eye of Argon by Jim Theis:
-2-
Yarr! Arrivin' after dusk in Gorzom, grignr descended down a dismal alley, reinin'is horse before a beaten pub. Ye redhaired giant strode into ye dimly lit hostelry reekin' o' foul odors, 'n cheap grog. Ahoy! Ye air were heavy with chockin' fumes spewing from smolderin'torches encased within theden's earthen packed walls. Tables were clustered with groups o' drunken scallywags, 'n cutthroats, tossin' dice, or makin' love t' willin' wenches.
Eyein' a slender female crouched alone at a nearby bench, Grignr advanced wishin' t' wholesomely occupy 'is time. Ye flickerin' torches cast weird shafts o' luminescence dancin' o'er ye half naked harlot o'is choice, 'er strin'y orchid twines o' hair swayin' gracefully o'er ye lithe opaque nose, as she raised a half drained mug t'er pale red lips. Yarr!
Glancin' upward, ye allurin' complexion noted ye stalwart giant as 'e rapidly approached. A faint glimmer sparked from ye pair o' deep blue ovals o' ye amorous female as she motioned toward Grignr, enticin'im t' join 'er. Yarr! Ye barbarian seated himself upon a stool at ye wenches side, exposin'is body, naked save for a loin cloth brandishin' a long steel broad cutlass, an iron spiraled battle helmet, 'n a thick leather sandals, t'er unobstructed view.
"Thou hast need t' occupy yer time, barbarian", questioned ye female? Avast, ye scurvy dog!
Arrr! "Only if somethin' worth offerin' be within me reach." Stated Grignr, as 'is hands crept t' embrace ye temptin' female, who welcomed them with open willin'ness.
"From where d'ye come barbarian, 'n by what be ye called?" Gasped ye complyin' wench, as Grignr smothered 'er lips with ye blazin' touch o'is flamin' mouth. Avast!
Ye engrossed titan ignored ye queries o' ye inquisitiwe female, pullin'er towards 'im 'n crushin'er saggin' nipples t'is yearnin' chest. Without struggle she gave in, windin'er soft arms around ye harshly bronzedhide o' Grignr corded shoulder blades, as 'is calloused hands caressed 'er firm protrudin' busts.
"Ye make lowe well wench," Admitted Grignr as 'e reached for ye wessel o' potent grog 'is charge 'ad been quaffin'. Ahoy!
A flyin' foot caught ye mug Grignr 'ad taken hold o', sendin' its blood red contents sloshin' o'er a flickerin' crescent; leashin' tongues o' bright orange flame t' ye foot trodden floor. Yar!
Yarr! "Remove yeself Sirrah, ye wench belongs t' me;" Blabbered a drunken soldier, too far consumed by ye influences o'is virile brew t' take note o' ye superior size o'is adversary.
Grignr lithly bounded from ye startled female, 'is face lit up t' an ashen red ferocity, 'n eyes locked in a searin' feral blaze toward ye swayin' soldier.
Yarr! "T' hell with ye, braggard!" Bellowed ye angered Ecordian, as 'e hefted 'is finely honed broad cutlass.
Ye staggerin' soldier clumsily reached towards ye pommel o'is danglin' cutlass, but before 'is hands ever touched ye oaken hilt a silvered flash were slicin' ye heavy air. Ye thews o' ye savages lashin' right arm bulged from ye glistenin' bronzed hide as 'is blade bit deeply into ye soldiers neck, lopin' off ye confused head o'is senseless tormentor.
With a nauseatin' thud ye severed oval toppled t' ye floor, as ye segregated torso o' Grignr's bovine antagonist swayed, then collapsed in a pool o' swirled crimson.
Avast, ye scurvy dog! In ye confusion ye soldier's fellows confronted Grignr with unsheathed cutlasses, directed toward ye latters scowlin' make-up. Arrr!
"Ye slut should 'ave picked 'is quarry more carefully!" Roared ye wictor in a mockin' baritone growl, as 'e wiped 'is drippin' blade on ye prostrate form, 'n returned it t' its scabbard.
"Ye fool should 'awe shown more prudence, howewer ye shall rue yer actions while rottin' in ye pits." Stated one o' ye sprawled soldier's comrades.
Grignr's hand began t' remowe 'is blade from its leather housin', but retarded ye motion in face o' ye blades wavin' before 'is face.
"Dismiss yer hand from ye hilt, barbarbian, or ye shall find a foot o' steel sheathed in yer gizzard. Yarr!"
Grignr weighed 'is position observin'is plight, where-upon 'e took ye soldier's advice as ye only logical choice. T' attempt t' hack 'is way from 'is present predicament could only warrant certain death. Which 'e were o' no mind t' brin' upon 'is own demise if an alternate path presented itself. Ye will t' necessitate 'is life forced 'im t' yield t' ye superior force in hopes o' a moment o' carlessness later upon ye part o'is captors in which 'e could effect a more plausible means o' escape. Yar!
"Ye may steady yer arms, I will go without a struggle." Yarr!
"Yer decision be a wise one, yet perhaps ye would 'ave been better off 'ad ye forced death," ye soldier's mouth wrinkled t' a sadistic grin o' knowin' mirth as 'e prodded 'is prisoner on with 'is cutlass point. Yar!
Ahoy! After an indiscriminate period o' marchin' through slinkin' alleyways 'n dim moonlighted streets ye procession confronted a massive seraglio. Ye palace area were surrounded by an iron gratin', with a lush garden upon all sides. Shiver me timbers!
Ye group were admitted through ye gilded gateway 'n Grignr were ledalong a stone pathway bordered by plush vegitation lustfully enhanced by ye moon's shimmerin' rays. Yarr! Upon reachin' ye palace ye group were granted entrance, 'n after several minutes o' explanation, led through several windin' corridors t' a richly draped chamber.
Confrontin' ye group were a short stocky man seated upona golden throne. Tapestries o' richly draped regal blue silk covered all walls o' ye chamber, while ye steps leadin' t' ye throne were plated with sparklin' white ivory. Ye man upon ye throne 'ad a naked wench seated at each o'is arms, 'n a trusted adwisor seated astern o'im. At each cornwr o' ye chamber a guard stood at attention, with upraised pikes supported in their hands, golden chainmail adornin' their torso's 'n barred helmets emittin' scarlet plumes enshroudin' their heads. Ye man rose from 'is throne t' ye dias surroundin' it. 'is plush turquois robe dangled loosely from 'is chuncky frame.
Avast, ye scurvy dog! Ye soldiers surroundin' Grignr fell t' their knees with heads bowed t' ye stone masonry o' ye floor in fearful dignity t' their sovereign, leige.
"Explain ye purpose o' this intrusion upon me chateau!"
"Yer sirenity, resplendent in noble grandeur, we 'ave brought this lubber before ye (ye soldier gestured toward Grignr) for ye redress or yer all knowin' wisdon in judgement regardin'is fate."
"Down on yer knees, lout, 'n pay proper homage t' yer sowereign!" commanded ye pudgy noble o' Grignr. Arrr!
Shiver me timbers! "By ye surly beard o' Mrifk, Grignr kneels t' no man!" scowled ye massive barbarian.
"Ye dare t' deal this blasphemous act t' me! Ye be indeed brawe stranger, yet yer valor smacks o' foolishness."
"I find ye t' be ye only fool, sittin' upon yer pompous throne, enhancin' ye rollin' flabs o' yer belly in ye midst o' yer elaborate luxuryand ..." Ye soldier standin' at Grignr's side smote 'im heavily in ye face with ye flat o'is cutlass, cutting short ye harsh words 'n knockin'is battered helmet t' ye masonry with an echo-in' clang. Yar!
Ye paunchy noble's saggin' round face flushed suddenly pale, then pastily lit up t' a lustrous cherry red radiance. Shiver me timbers! 'is lips trembled with malicious rage, while emittin' a muffled sibilant gibberish. 'is saggin' flabs rolled like a tub o' upset jelly, then compressed as 'e sucked in 'is gut in an attempt t' conceal 'is softness.
Ye prince regained 'is statue, then spoke t' ye soldiers surroundin' Grignr, 'is face conformin' t' an ugly expression o' sadistic humor.
"Take this uncouth heathen t' ye vault o' misery, 'n be sure that 'is agonies be long 'n drawn out before death can release 'im."
"As ye wish sire, yer command shall be heeded immediately," answered ye soldier t' starboard o' Grignr as 'e stared into ye barbarians seemin'ly unaffected face.
Ye advisor seated in ye back o' ye noble slowly rose 'n adwanced t' ye side o'is master, motionin' ye wenches seated at 'is sides t' remove themselwes. Which 'e lowered 'is head 'n whispered t' ye noble. Avast, ye scurvy dog!
"Eminence, ye punishment ye 'ave decreed will cause much misery t' this scum, yet it will last only a short time, then release 'im t' a land beyond ye sufferin's o' ye human body. Why not mellow 'im in one o' ye subterranean vaults for a few days, then send 'im t' life labor in one o' yer buried mines.
T' one such as 'e, a life spent in ye confinement o' ye stygian pits will be an infinitely more appropiate 'n lastin' torture."
Ye noble cupped 'is droopin' double chin in ye folds o'is brimin' palm, meditatin' for a moment upon ye rationality o' ye councilor's word's, then raised 'is shaggy brown eyebrows 'n turned toward ye advisor, eyes aglow.
"... As always Agafnd, ye speak with great wisdom. Yer words rin' o' great knowledge concernin' ye nature o' one such as 'e," sayeth, ye king. Ye noble turned toward ye prisoner with a noticable shimmer reflectin' in 'is frog-like eyes, 'n 'is lips contortin' t' a greasy grin. Avast! "I 'awe decided t' void me previous decree. Ye prisoner shall be removed t' one o' ye palaces underground waults. Ahoy! There 'e shall stay until I 'ave decided that 'e 'as sufficiently simmered, whereupon 'e be t' be allowed t' spend ye remainder o'is days at labor in one o' me mines."
Upon hearin' this, Grignr realized that 'is fate would be far less merciful than death t' one such as 'e, who be used t' roamin' ye countryside at will. A life o' confinement would be more than 'is body 'n mind could stand up t'. This type o' life would be immeasurably worse than death. Ahoy! Shiver me timbers!
"I shall never understand ye ways if yer twisted ciwilization. Which I simply defend me honor 'n be condemned t' life confinement, by a pig who sits on 'is royal ass wooin' whores, 'n knows nothin' o' ye affairs o' ye land 'e imagines t' rule!" Lectures Grignr?
"Enough o' this! Away with ye slut before I loose me control!"
Avast, ye scurvy dog! Seein' ye peril o'is position, Grignr searched for an openin'. Crushin' prudence t' ye sward, 'e plowed into ye soldier at 'is left arm takin' hold o'is cutlass, 'n boundin' t' ye dias supportin' ye prince before ye startled guards could regain their composure. Agafnd leaped Grignr 'n 'is sire, but found a cutlass blade permeatin' ye length o'is ribs before 'e could loosed 'is weapon. Yarr!
Yarr! Ye councilor slumped t'is knees as Grignr slid 'is crimsoned blade from Agfnd's rib cage. Ye fat prince stood undulatin' in insurmountable fear before ye edge o' ye fiery maned comet, 'is flabs o' jellied blubber pulsatin' t'n fro in ripples o' flowin' terror.
"Where be yer wisdom 'n power now, yer magjesty?" Growled Grignr. Yarr!
Ye prince went rigid as Grignr discerned 'im glazin' o'er 'is shoulder. Which 'e swlived t' note ye cause o' ye noble's attention, raised 'is cutlass o'er 'is head, 'n prepared t' leash a vicious downward cleft, but fell short as ye haft o' a steel rimed pike clashed against 'is unguarded skull. Then blackness 'n solitude. Silence enshroudin'n ewer peaceful reind supreme. Avast, ye scurvy dog!
"Before me, sirrah! Before me as always! Ha, Ha Ha, Haaaa ... ", nobly cackled.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Mojang Milestone
The Swedish indie developer Mojang recently sold the three millionth copy of their flagship product, the block placing game Minecraft. Congratulations, guys! Not bad for a game still in beta.
Minecraft was initially a one-man project by game developer Markus Persson, based on Infiniminer by indie developer Zachtronics Industries.
Here's a picture of Markus, also known by his nickname, Notch.
The success of Minecraft has allowed Markus to found his own game development company, Mojang AB.
While much of the work at Mojang is put in the ongoing development of Minecraft, Mojang has a second team working on a separate game, Scrolls.
As more and more people have become familiar with Minecraft, many people have become curious about the company's unusual name. I, too, wondered what it meant, but luckily my online detective skills allowed me to find the answer.
It turns out that "mojang" is Sundanese for "girl".
It's often used in a phrase "mojang Bandung", literally "girl from Bandung". Figuratively it means a pretty girl, Bandung having a reputation for beautiful girls.
Now that we've cleared the mystery of their name, let's have a look at what's going on at Mojang's offices.
Minecraft was initially a one-man project by game developer Markus Persson, based on Infiniminer by indie developer Zachtronics Industries.
Here's a picture of Markus, also known by his nickname, Notch.
The success of Minecraft has allowed Markus to found his own game development company, Mojang AB.
While much of the work at Mojang is put in the ongoing development of Minecraft, Mojang has a second team working on a separate game, Scrolls.
As more and more people have become familiar with Minecraft, many people have become curious about the company's unusual name. I, too, wondered what it meant, but luckily my online detective skills allowed me to find the answer.
It turns out that "mojang" is Sundanese for "girl".
It's often used in a phrase "mojang Bandung", literally "girl from Bandung". Figuratively it means a pretty girl, Bandung having a reputation for beautiful girls.
Now that we've cleared the mystery of their name, let's have a look at what's going on at Mojang's offices.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
New Cardigans album
The Cardigans are back with their latest album, Angry Birds!
Commenting on the title of the album, Peter Svensson said: "The title can be interpreted in many ways but I think we only thought of a few ones we liked." Nina Persson explained: "we talked about having like English title and Angry Birds came up and it sort of felt really good." Svensson continues: "You know, we were thinking like with what everything that's happening with global warming and everything with the environment, that if you were a bird and you knew about it, would you be like really angry? So I guess it's kind of an environmental thing."
"I think that also the title suits this very album extremely well because the album is pretty much about being a bird, and also being angry. I think sometimes you can always compare living to being a bird in the world," Nina finishes.
The first single will be the song "Stupid Pigs". The band declined to comment on the name of the song or its relationship to the album title.
The music video, directed by Jonas Åkerlund, features singer Nina Persson as a demonstrator taking part in a riot, and the rest of the band as riot policemen. The video was shot entirely in the Czech Republic, at a cost of 2 million USD, and includes brutal scenes of rioting, with protestors overturning police cars and setting them on fire, and being assaulted by officers in riot gear while helicopters circle overhead. Fifty-eight different versions of the video were shot in an effort to get MTV to play at least one of them. The eventual MTV video features Nina Persson walking along a city street and singing the song.
Bonus interview footage for Finnish speakers here!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Sucker Punch
Just saw Sucker Punch last week. Of course, when I first heard about it, I thought it was a Tie Domi biopic.
My blog: your number-one shop for two-minute photoshops. Stay tuned for the sequel:
**
Now to the actual movie.
I can't believe the bad press this movie has got. You saw the trailer and the poster, and based on those, you should have been expecting an action movie with console game visuals.
Well, Sucker Punch is that, and it's seriously cool. I mean, look at it.
The action sequences are awesome, and I absolutely loved them. As an added bonus, the soundtrack is excellent. The narration is very crisp, with none of the usual repetition and beating us over the head with the clue bat that we're all getting used to.
There is, however, a sucker punch that you really don't see coming. Namely, that this movie has a real, serious, feminist message. Now, this is apparently too much for some critics. To quote Wikipedia for a particularly glaring example:
A.O. Scott of The New York Times described the film as a "fantasia of misogyny" that pretends to be a "feminist fable of empowerment" and found that the film's treatment of sexual violence was problematic.
Since movie critics are herd animals, everyone's jumped on this bandwagon. Ooh, it can't be feminist, they're wearing short skirts and they're objectified.
I mean, oh my God, you can see some of her thigh. Quick, call Andrea Dworkin.
As a feminist, this enrages me. There is a serious, powerful feminist message in this movie, but it seems that our movie critics go so bananas when they see Emily Browning in a miniskirt that they can't detect it.
Without spoiling anything, the central theme of the movie is the way in which men can use the structures of society to inflict violence on women. The film treats psychiatry as a charade to enforce proper gendered behavior and as a form of violence, used by men on women to make them conform. The plot of the movie is victimized women fighting against gendered oppression.
And because they do it while looking hot, it's suddenly objectification.
In many cases, including this one, objectification is in the eye of the objectifier. I can't think of anything more demeaning, oppressive and downright patriarchal as dismissing this movie by reducing its female characters to pure eye candy just because of the clothes they're wearing.
The film operates on multiple levels, kind of like Inception except that it doesn't suck. The critics seem to be totally fixated on the level that deals with sexuality, and can't see past that to the actual scope of the movie, which deals with psychiatry, lobotomy and patriarchy. Instead, the overwhelmingly male critics seem to be, quite frankly, thinking with their dicks. To me, and the people I saw the film with, characterizing it as pornography is appalling. That's seriously not far removed from calling Schindler's List a glorification of genocide.
But this is the world of movies. Had the same crew and cast made a dreary, depressing drama movie about a woman wrongly committed to a mental institution, the same reviewers would be hailing it as a wonderful paean to female liberation. But because it's a kick-ass action movie, it isn't allowed to have a real theme. If it has a woman in it, she must by definition be only a sexual object. The critics won't let her be anything else.
So in that sense, the film succeeds as feminist empowerment on two levels: not only is the story and theme itself a strong feminist message, but it very brashly exposes what radical feminism has turned into. The critics, in all likelihood believing themselves to be great feminists and doing a good thing, have taken a kickass feminist movie and in the name of feminism, condemned it for violating gender roles. The director is presenting women wrong! The radical feminist orthodoxy seems to currently be that women must not ever be presented as sexy, because that will always be objectifying.
So in other words, in the name of feminism, these "feminists" want to ban women as sexual beings from the movie screen. Female sexuality is only allowed to appear in strictly controlled, radical-feminist-approved contexts like a homemade porn movie shot with a cellphone camera that gets shown at movie festivals. If a female feminist director makes a movie about kickass women, that's great and empowering, but if a male director makes a Hollywood movie that's feminist and kicks ass, that's horrible objectification.
You know what? Fuck you. I thoroughly enjoyed Sucker Punch, and I think it has a very powerful and important message. That so many critics can't be bothered to watch it as a serious movie with a serious message but print their knee-jerk dismissal just confirms me in my belief that movie critics are among the lowest forms of human life to bedevil this planet.
So seriously, screw you guys. I'm going to go see it again.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Can't explain that
As we all know, fundies say the darndest things. My personal favourite from the site is this gem by awesomestnerd:
"One of the most basic laws in the universe is the Second Law of Thermodynamics. This states that as time goes by, entropy in an environment will increase. Evolution argues differently against a law that is accepted EVERYWHERE BY EVERYONE. Evolution says that we started out simple, and over time became more complex. That just isn't possible: UNLESS there is a giant outside source of energy supplying the Earth with huge amounts of energy. If there were such a source, scientists would certainly know about it."
Yes, awesomestnerd, they certainly would.
Recently, conservative political commentator Bill O'Reilly offered his own contribution to science concerning the heavenly bodies, specifically the Moon.
From the LA Times blog The Big Picture:
"But when it comes to seeing the world through the wrong end of a telescope, no one tops Bill O'Reilly, who has been the butt of a thousand jokes after confronting an atheist on his show with irrefutable evidence of the existence of God--using as his evidence the fact that the tides come in and the tides go out. I mean, O'Reilly said with great certainty, who else could possibly be controlling that?"
When confronted with the more conventional explanation of the tides, O'Reilly went one level higher and speculated on the origin of the Moon.
All this has caused much hilarity on teh internets, and you too can participate in the meme with the handy MemeGenerator.
Here's our contribution:
"One of the most basic laws in the universe is the Second Law of Thermodynamics. This states that as time goes by, entropy in an environment will increase. Evolution argues differently against a law that is accepted EVERYWHERE BY EVERYONE. Evolution says that we started out simple, and over time became more complex. That just isn't possible: UNLESS there is a giant outside source of energy supplying the Earth with huge amounts of energy. If there were such a source, scientists would certainly know about it."
Yes, awesomestnerd, they certainly would.
Recently, conservative political commentator Bill O'Reilly offered his own contribution to science concerning the heavenly bodies, specifically the Moon.
From the LA Times blog The Big Picture:
"But when it comes to seeing the world through the wrong end of a telescope, no one tops Bill O'Reilly, who has been the butt of a thousand jokes after confronting an atheist on his show with irrefutable evidence of the existence of God--using as his evidence the fact that the tides come in and the tides go out. I mean, O'Reilly said with great certainty, who else could possibly be controlling that?"
When confronted with the more conventional explanation of the tides, O'Reilly went one level higher and speculated on the origin of the Moon.
All this has caused much hilarity on teh internets, and you too can participate in the meme with the handy MemeGenerator.
Here's our contribution:
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Saturday, December 25, 2010
World Juniors preview
The hockey world junior championships start today. Funnily enough, Finland has managed to win once, in 1998. Mika Noronen stopped the Russians in the gold medal game, and Niklas Hagman's overtime goal gave Finland their only gold medal to date. The tournament all-star team included goaltender David Aebischer, defenseman Andrei Markov and Finnish forwards Eero Somervuori and Olli Jokinen.
The tournament, which is watched only in Canada, has been won by Canada 15 out of 37 times it has been held, including five years in a row from 2005 to 2009. Over the last eighteen years, they've finished without a medal only once. Every year, including this one, the Canadian hockey media makes a big deal about how Canada are going into the tournament as "underdogs", and nobody ever expects them to win. I mean, it would be ridiculous if one of the two countries that has totally dominated the tournament every time it has been held would be a favorite going in, wouldn't it?
Indeed, this year Canada are expected to finish a shocking 297th out of ten participating countries. Even though there are only 193 sovereign states in the world, it is widely thought that Canada's performance will be so poor that a hundred notional states will be invented and inserted into the hockey world ranking to fully express how badly Canada will do. Reports from Hockey Canada indicate that they don't expect any of the selected players to turn up, as the team was selected by randomly picking names from the Toronto area phonebook. The players thus selected were not informed.
Despite having more hockey players, both per capita and absolutely, than any other nation in the world, and being the only country that even notices the world junior tournament is on, the Canadian media are confident that this year will turn into another unmitigated debacle for the Canadian junior team. Prospects are so bleak that it will be an incredible upset if the team doesn't play so badly that every Canadian commits suicide out of shame at the end of the first period of play.
This year, like every year, Team Canada is expected to totally disgrace the nation at a tournament which they have so far dominated every past year. Despite having finished with a medal in seventeen out of the last eighteen tournaments, an eighteenth medal is considered highly unlikely and would be incredible, astounding proof of the ability of good Canadian boys to triumph against the terrible evil of foreigners, because they're underdogs. This seeming discrepancy is not one, because we don't say it is. When asked for comment, a Canadian hockey expert screamed about Lord Jesus Baby and talked about the troops.
The tournament, which is watched only in Canada, has been won by Canada 15 out of 37 times it has been held, including five years in a row from 2005 to 2009. Over the last eighteen years, they've finished without a medal only once. Every year, including this one, the Canadian hockey media makes a big deal about how Canada are going into the tournament as "underdogs", and nobody ever expects them to win. I mean, it would be ridiculous if one of the two countries that has totally dominated the tournament every time it has been held would be a favorite going in, wouldn't it?
Indeed, this year Canada are expected to finish a shocking 297th out of ten participating countries. Even though there are only 193 sovereign states in the world, it is widely thought that Canada's performance will be so poor that a hundred notional states will be invented and inserted into the hockey world ranking to fully express how badly Canada will do. Reports from Hockey Canada indicate that they don't expect any of the selected players to turn up, as the team was selected by randomly picking names from the Toronto area phonebook. The players thus selected were not informed.
Despite having more hockey players, both per capita and absolutely, than any other nation in the world, and being the only country that even notices the world junior tournament is on, the Canadian media are confident that this year will turn into another unmitigated debacle for the Canadian junior team. Prospects are so bleak that it will be an incredible upset if the team doesn't play so badly that every Canadian commits suicide out of shame at the end of the first period of play.
This year, like every year, Team Canada is expected to totally disgrace the nation at a tournament which they have so far dominated every past year. Despite having finished with a medal in seventeen out of the last eighteen tournaments, an eighteenth medal is considered highly unlikely and would be incredible, astounding proof of the ability of good Canadian boys to triumph against the terrible evil of foreigners, because they're underdogs. This seeming discrepancy is not one, because we don't say it is. When asked for comment, a Canadian hockey expert screamed about Lord Jesus Baby and talked about the troops.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Funny pictures
I'm not the only person who associates the Nazi Pope with a certain bear. Via the Huffington Post, of all things:
It's a little too small to make out properly. Suffice to say that a police department in California recently warned parents about this dangerous "mascot".
**
While I was doing my post on Sheriff Joe of Maricopa, I remembered a particular image I'd seen floating around the Internet a while ago. To my great regret, it's fake, at least in the sense that if the vehicle exists, it's in private hands, not official use.
The picture is still awesome, as it contains more repressed homosexuality than I've ever seen in my life. If it's actually overt homosexuality, then it's just awesome.
**
On that topic, some nations have great newspapers. Here's Uganda's Red Pepper, with the most unreal and hysterically funny headline I've ever seen.
I wish we had headlines like that.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Chick tracts!
I did my own little Chick tract parody in Finnish earlier, and now that I'm on the topic, I might as well say something about the original tracts themselves.
Jack Chick's "tracts" are little comic pamphlets on his premillenial dispensationalist, King James only -brand of Christianity. You can find the original tracts online here. They've been translated and distributed around the world to a surprising extent. My first contact with Jack Chick's work came at a Finnish rock festival in the '90s, where someone had left a translation of the Chick tract on Islam on our tent.
All the tracts are supposedly by Jack Chick, although given the variety of drawing styles on display one gets the impression some of the work is farmed out. They do all share his Protestant fundamentalism, in which all other religions and worldviews are irrevocably wrong, including all translations of the Bible except the King James V version. The tracts attack anything and everything, from the Catholic Church to Halloween.
One of the true classics is the hilarious tract on the evil of role-playing games, Dark Dungeons, from which the above is adapted. An excellent parody is Darque Dungeon. Similarly, Chick's unintentionally funny tract on evolution was parodied and debunked here.
Chick subscribes to the born-again Christian view, which basically holds that in order for your soul to be saved, you have to say some magical words to Jesus. This was excellently dissected in Somebody loves you?, which completes the story of the original Chick tract.
**
The world of the Chick tracts is occasionally very strange. As I worked on my parody, I had to take a fairly close look at a bunch of them. One of the first tracts I ever read, in fact probably the second one after the Islam one, was Trust Me. It's a strange tract; a kid takes drugs for seemingly no reason and ends up in prison. After he prays to Jesus, he dies. It's a bit of a bummer.
Here's the unaltered first panel:
Seriously, what the hell is going on? Apparently there's an evil bus driving past, because someone is hanging what looks like a child from a window, and someone else is firing a gun. Maybe that's what Jack Chick thinks a city is like, I don't know. But for whatever reason, his tracts all have a weird sense of unreality; often the circumstances or actions of characters are just unbelievable, such as his idea of city life in the above panel, and even more so the fact that when a kid in that environment sees that hand beckoning to him, he follows it and does everything he's told.
In others, it's the total ignorance of the protagonists, who are almost invariably set up to convert to fundie Christianity:
Of course, it's either that or going to hell, also a popular topic:
Parodying Chick tracts is fun. Here's a panel I created for my parody, with my alterations and the original text.
After all, if you really want to know about the world we live in, read Why We're Here, a tract that tells you the truth.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Hung out to dry
"Resigning themselves to no further action that day because of the magical fog, the opposing sides hung their sails out to dry. The fog actually contained no moisture, so this was a good opportunity to dry out the sails wetted by last night's squall. Suddenly the fog lifted, and the two parties found themselves facing each other in a flat calm, with all sails hung out to dry. It was a most unusual situation."
(original picture here)
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Homophobia
As we've just had a spot of homophobic terrorism right here in the good F-I of Nland, I thought I'd remind people of where homophobia seems to originate.
There have, in fact, been a number of studies that show a clear link between a person's level of homophobia and the sexual arousal they feel from seeing gay porn, like this one. In a nutshell, there's empirical proof that suggests that homophobia in men comes down to an inability to handle one's own sexual urges.
Funnily, that makes stories like this Onion piece not only entertaining but borderline factual.
There have, in fact, been a number of studies that show a clear link between a person's level of homophobia and the sexual arousal they feel from seeing gay porn, like this one. In a nutshell, there's empirical proof that suggests that homophobia in men comes down to an inability to handle one's own sexual urges.
Funnily, that makes stories like this Onion piece not only entertaining but borderline factual.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Who is Chad Johnson?
Team Canada's number-two goaltender is someone called Chad Johnson. Who? I found out.
Born in 1980 in the southern United States to Canadian parents, Chad Johnson studied physics at the University of Minnesota and played college hockey there. In 2000, he served as the principal gay and lesbian issues adviser to the Gore/Lieberman campaign, and was nominated for two Grabby Awards for his work in gay pornography.
In 2001, he was nominated for another Grabby for "best three-way sex scene", and was drafted by the Cincinnati Bengals. However, he went on to get his Ph.D in high energy physics at Columbia. His work centered around a theoretical particle created as the Higgs boson decays, and took place at the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory. While studying at Columbia, he was inducted into the GayVN Awards Hall of Fame, and made the NFL First All-Star Team twice, in 2005 and 2006. He's received a total of 62 touchdowns, and holds several Bengals franchise records.
He appeared on the cover of EA's NFL Street 3 in 2006, and was drafted 125th overall by the Pittsburgh Penguins. In 2007, the Minnesota Vikings signed him as a free agent cornerback, and two years later he made his AHL debut with the Hartford Wolfpack. He played five NHL games last season, with a record of 1-2-1, save percentage of 91,9% and a goals-against average of 2.35. This is his first national team appearance.
He's also employed as a professional photographer in the New York area, and has his own segment on the TV show Sports Soup. He's a soccer fan and supports Arsenal FC, and is still active in the Democratic party.
That's some goaltender!
Born in 1980 in the southern United States to Canadian parents, Chad Johnson studied physics at the University of Minnesota and played college hockey there. In 2000, he served as the principal gay and lesbian issues adviser to the Gore/Lieberman campaign, and was nominated for two Grabby Awards for his work in gay pornography.
In 2001, he was nominated for another Grabby for "best three-way sex scene", and was drafted by the Cincinnati Bengals. However, he went on to get his Ph.D in high energy physics at Columbia. His work centered around a theoretical particle created as the Higgs boson decays, and took place at the Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory. While studying at Columbia, he was inducted into the GayVN Awards Hall of Fame, and made the NFL First All-Star Team twice, in 2005 and 2006. He's received a total of 62 touchdowns, and holds several Bengals franchise records.
He appeared on the cover of EA's NFL Street 3 in 2006, and was drafted 125th overall by the Pittsburgh Penguins. In 2007, the Minnesota Vikings signed him as a free agent cornerback, and two years later he made his AHL debut with the Hartford Wolfpack. He played five NHL games last season, with a record of 1-2-1, save percentage of 91,9% and a goals-against average of 2.35. This is his first national team appearance.
He's also employed as a professional photographer in the New York area, and has his own segment on the TV show Sports Soup. He's a soccer fan and supports Arsenal FC, and is still active in the Democratic party.
That's some goaltender!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Dinosaur Comics Minus T-Rex
It's just not the same.
With apologies to Dinosaur Comics, garfield minus garfield and Square Root of Minus Garfield.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
2012: Nostradamus
Have we been watching 2012 "documentaries" on the History Channel? Yes.
Are we going to do a series of posts on "the 2012 phenomenon"? Yes.
So, did Nostradamus predict the events of 2012? No.
**
Seriously, he didn't. Not a single Nostradamus scholar said or wrote anything about this whole 2012 thing until it was invented a couple of years back. It's only lately that they've jumped on the 2012 bandwagon, cheerfully helped along by the (pseudo-)History channel, who keep running rubbish "documentaries" on the topic.
However, there's one thing we're thoroughly convinced Nostradamus did make several astonishing predictions about, all of which have come true: the National Hockey League.
Take, for instance, the very first quatrain of them all. Century I, quatrain 1:
Are we going to do a series of posts on "the 2012 phenomenon"? Yes.
So, did Nostradamus predict the events of 2012? No.
**
Seriously, he didn't. Not a single Nostradamus scholar said or wrote anything about this whole 2012 thing until it was invented a couple of years back. It's only lately that they've jumped on the 2012 bandwagon, cheerfully helped along by the (pseudo-)History channel, who keep running rubbish "documentaries" on the topic.
However, there's one thing we're thoroughly convinced Nostradamus did make several astonishing predictions about, all of which have come true: the National Hockey League.
Take, for instance, the very first quatrain of them all. Century I, quatrain 1:
Tripod seated at night in secret study
Only resting on the aerian saddle:
Tiny flame leaving the solitude
Make prosper what is not vain to believe.
It's clear that "tiny flame" refers to that diminutive Calgary legend, Theo Fleury.
He recently tried to make a comeback to the NHL, or in other words, "leave the solitude". On September 10, 2009, he was reinstated and allowed to make a return in a meeting with NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman, Deputy Commissioner Bill Daly, and league doctors. Notice that's three; Bettman, Daly and the doctors: a tripod has three legs.
They must have done some thinking and research before this meeting, but they couldn't reveal their conclusions beforehand: hence, secret study. I'll bet they didn't get much sleep, apart from what they caught on a plane trip, or, as Nostradamus would put it, "on the aerian saddle".
Fleury's comeback didn't pan out, but he was made to prosper, as his autobiography, published at the same time, did sell quite nicely. A mystery remains, though: is Nostradamus saying that it was vain to believe in his comeback, or is he saying that the allegations Fleury made in his book are "vain to believe"? We don't know. He did.
**
Even more momentous is the third quatrain.
When the litters are overturned by the whirlwind
and faces are covered by cloaks,
the new republic will be troubled by its people.
At this time the reds and the whites will rule wrongly.
Can he be any more plain? When the litters are overturned by the whirlwind; like maybe a hurricane? This clearly refers to the Carolina Hurricanes winning the Stanley Cup; their jerseys were, at the time, red and white. Seriously, he couldn't make this more explicit without just coming right out and saying that the Canes will win the Cup, and as we all know, prophets just don't do that.
The "new republic" here is Canada, which became a (quasi-)independent state later than the United States, and many Canadians were quite upset when the Oilers lost to the Canes in the final! Astonishingly, Nostradamus knew the Hurricanes were going to win the Stanley Cup over 400 years before it happened.
Again, Nostradamus is telling us something we didn't know beforehand, too: the reference to "ruling wrongly" seems to suggest that the Canes shouldn't have won the Cup! Was there some terrible officiating mistake that cost the Oilers the Cup? Should some other team have represented the Eastern Conference in the finals? Frankly, we don't know. He did.
**
In quatrains 12 and 13, Nostradamus predicted the vicissitudes that the NHL Players' Association would face in the 2000's:
12
There will soon be talk of a treacherous man, who rules a short time,
quickly raised from low to high estate.
He will suddenly turn disloyal and volatile.
This man will govern Verona.
13
Through anger and internal hatreds, the exiles
will hatch a great plot against the king.
Secretly they will place enemies as a threat,
and his own old (adherents) will find sedition against them.
The "treacherous man" is clearly Ted Saskin, who became executive director of the NHLPA after Bob Goodenow's resignation ("quickly raised from low to high estate"). He was fired after the NHLPA members found he had masterminded a campaign to hack into players' e-mail accounts. So instead of representing the players, he had "suddenly turned disloyal and volatile".
We remember Verona from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet as a city riven by factional strife; not a bad description of the NHLPA at any time! Quatrain 13 details Chris Chelios's campaign to dethrone Saskin, who was forced to resign in 2007.
But wait, there's more! Quatrain 23:
In the third month, at sunrise,
the Boar and the Leopard meet on the battlefield.
The fatigued Leopard looks up to heaven
and sees an eagle playing around the sun.
In the 1995-96 season, the Florida Panthers made it to the Stanley Cup finals. To make a long story short, as is common in prophecy interpretation, the Latin name for the leopard species is panthera pardus, a panther. The Panthers were pretty fatigued by the time they got to the final, where they lost to the Colorado Avalanche. The Avs are based in Denver, Colorado, and the seal of the city of Denver has a bird and the rays of the sun on it. Coincidence? We think not.
What about the boar? Well, wild boars are mostly found in Europe. The Cup-winning goal was scored by Uwe Krupp, who's from Europe. So this time around, Nostradamus knew that the Panthers would make the finals, but lose to Colorado! Over 400 years before it happened!
**
Nostradamus also predicted some unpleasant things. Quatrain 26:
The great man will be struck down in the day by a thunderbolt.
An evil deed, foretold by the beare of a petition.
According to the prediction another falls at night time.
Conflict at Reims, London, and pestilence in Tuscany.
It's obvious to us that this quatrain refers to Matt Cooke's hit on Marc Savard. Savard was Boston's number one center, a "great man". He was blindsided by Matt Cooke, which is to say he took a hit that he didn't see coming, like a thunderbolt. You don't see those coming, either. Our Penguin Dictionary of Symbols identifies the thunderbolt in Celtic mythology with the hammer of Sucellus, the "hard hitter"; how unambiguous is that?
This hit was definitely an evil deed, and it was foretold by a petition. In fact, there have been numerous petitions to ban head shots in the NHL for years, but nothing has been done. To cap it off, the Bruins-Pens game on that day was at 3 P.M.; in the day.
Cooke wasn't penalized, and that weekend, on Hockey Night in Canada, it was predicted that more players would be injured unless the headshot rule was implemented immediately. And according to the prediction, another reckless hit left Brian Campbell injured just days later. The NHL may not have known that another player would be injured if they didn't react; Nostradamus did.
**
These examples are more or less randomly selected from just the first century of Nostradamus's prophecies. We believe that they are entirely convincing PROOF that Nostradamus was a true prophet, who could indeed foretell the future. Here is evidence enough to convince even the most hardened skeptic.
Most excitingly, it stands to reason that the remaining quatrains contain many more of hockey's secrets. More likely than not, locked away in his prophecies is this year's Stanley Cup winner! We leave the search for this answer up to you. Don't read it here first; read it there yourself. The Prophecies are available on Wikisource: the future is in your hands.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Rembo. He called it Rembo.
I really want to write something about this, but I can't keep a straight face long enough. Go here, which should be a page on Andy Remic's website, about his latest offering, a fantasy book called Kell's Legend.
There's a video, called "promo for Kell's Legend", directed by... Andy Remic. He of War Machine which I tried to read earlier.
I could tell you about it, but really, I can't. Just watch it.
There's a video, called "promo for Kell's Legend", directed by... Andy Remic. He of War Machine which I tried to read earlier.
I could tell you about it, but really, I can't. Just watch it.
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