Peredhil

Guido strolled through and mingled with the crowd curiously. Oh, ho, Da Boss signed up! Well den... Waiting his turn, he carefully signed Nuncio's name on the line. On the line under it, he began to write E...l...l... and stopped. Carefully crossing it out, he wrote Elrohir instead. With a chortle twitching his nose, he sent off to finish his errand.

I'll make this one easy.

Peredhil strolls back from the Conservatory, a bit tired but happy not to be IT in the TAG game again, when he sees Zool out of his normal space. Approaching the booth, he notices the sign's addition, and is struck once again by the loveliness of the lady. "Ladies," he bows, and then hands over his kissing geld payment. Zool looks apprehensive. Peredhil leans forward gives a surprised Ayshela a butterfly-light kiss on her nose. "Worth every gold piece." "..." exclaim two women and a painting. "Squawk!" exclaims the Rubber Chicken, but the Toupee holds his words to himself. M'Lady Celes laughs at their expressions and scoops up Cambronne. "dames, Ne soyez pas alarmé. No, do not be afraid the Ancient was Rude. Your sign gives such permissions." As Salinye and Ayshela look at each other, Zool begins laughing...

Peredhil prowls by and the peruses the poster. A sharp-eyed observer would note the "I support Pen Guilds" button tastefully displayed on the lapel of his light-grey Armani suit. I don't know if you'll get any bids, but I'll apply for this; Helping the Pen and its Guilds would fill me with bliss. I find that the Pen family fills my days with fantasy fun. I'll look forward, anticipation filled, to find out who my bid has won.

That's Scarborough Fair? Smacks himself. I thought it was "Patterns", but yes, definitely has that Paul Simon air. Too many years since I've listened to it I guess. Mira - no I haven't heard anything from the PS Songbook. You've given me something else to which to look forward.

I know! I love that album. I'll let someone else have a chance first.

Stevie Nicks' Blue Lamp. Most commonly heard on the soundtrack to the original Heavy Metal movie. Do you have a song for us, Mira, or should I go again...

Huggles YFA

Hmmm. I haven't time to follow the link but... [rant] The implication you give with your subtitle is that if you read that and don't agree that it was brilliant, you are closeminded. Isn't that closeminded, to judge someone on whether they agree or not? Given the very title of the post, the implication from the word 'Atheist' is that the closeminded person will be someone who is not "against God" (the definition of atheist. I've noticed that those who sling around the term closeminded tend to mean, "if you have any absolute standard at all, you have closed yourself to all other standards and are closeminded. You must accept that anyone could be right." On the surface, this is prolly closeminded of me, but I have an absolute standard that within one-quarter mile of the Earth's surface, gravity will cause a human body to fall. Why is this closeminded? Because people such as Einstein have argued that gravity doesn't exist - it's an external manifestation of some other force which we don't yet understand. The effect is the same, whether I'm right or Einstein is right. I'm very closeminded when it comes to people's rights. I definitely limit their right of Free Speech (which is often used to mean "right of freedom to say whatever they want without consequence") around my mother. If someone wants to talk to her in certain ways, with certain words, I *will* correct them. I'm closeminded and impose my absolute standards on other things. By the openminded standard, anyone's right to act as they want is just as right as any other, it's a personal choice. I limit the right of others to rape my friends, male or female. That's a personal absolute standard. I'd be very wary of calling anyone else closeminded... And I definitely resent the implication that if I disagree with an author, they may closemindedly ignore MY opinion, and MY belief because I've disagreed. [/rant]

Your answer can be found at a wonderful Middle Earth reference site.

There is a currently unpatched Internet Explorer trojan horse worm speeding around the internet. It exploits three vectors, two of which Microsoft has already released patches (run windows update) and one which they haven't. It infects web sites with malicious code, and when you hit the web site, it infects your computer. The payload captures keystrokes and sends them to a Russian site. Normally this sort of thing looks for credit card numbers, account numbers, etc. Work around - disable JAVA in your Internet Explorer, or use Mozilla for a while. A Hong Kong site conducted an experiment where they loaded a machine fresh from disk and put it on the internet. The longest it took for some type of malicious code (worm, virus, malicious cookie, etc) to hit the machine was sixteen minutes. Get a firewall (Zone Alarm from Zonelabs is still free for the home version. Black Ice looks better, but has some things it thinks it blocks but doesn't - which is a Bad Thing). Get a virus scanner. Run all the updates and patches for your Operating System. If you use Microsoft Office, make sure you go to the *Office* Update site and run all THOSE patches. People forget these, much to hacker's delights. *hugs* Hope y'all feel better. -P

hugs and ditto what Jareena said.

Written by a member of Fleetwood Mac

Hugs Welcome back. It's rough and raw - and right from the heart. I'd rather see you spill heart's blood into ink than onto a floor. hugs again Peredhil

Wonders how Deg can leave if he hasn't begun to establish roots or bud yet.

Beatles "Tomorrow Never Knows". For someone who loves the Beatles as I do, that's a gimme. Linking to the words "shining" in yours, I present this verse in the chain of lyrics.

Getting into the Average U.S of A. citizen suit, he puts his finger on his dimple and smiles vacuously, Canada is to the NORTH! Nods emphatically have made his point, and wanders away...

Happy Birthdays!

I sit inside the Pen's gate and sigh Watching the ones who snarl and pass by Admission is free, but they have to walk through the door We just don't drag them in any more. We blow our own horns! We clash symbols! We require accounts to avoid spamming porn! We have a wall with a gate, Just manuever on through If you're even slightly Polite We'll happily welcome you. That which is given away which is free Is quickly tossed away when obtained cheaply A bit of work and sweat, a requirement to grow Help avoid contention, lack of confidence and woe I'll never tire of writing; I write because I must And I sit here wondering why you've fussed. Why you want everyone else to change to accommodate? What's right? Shake the head; it's getting too late. Such talent prowls in the cold outside But it's warm inside where I abide Hopeful that pride and stubborness will not collide But your write to protest simply cannot be denied.

I think, but only occasionally, that all this comma, grammar related rule stuff is really, really, really somewhat confusing to understand sometimes...

All humor is based on some type of pain, according to Heinlein. If you think about it, that's a pretty sound foundation. Humor as pain, or the threat of pain, such as surprise. About the only thing which avoids that are terrible puns - but then, the pun is setting up an expectation and then twisting it. If the poem had been an American commercial about a fat man who's wife bailed him out of his thoughtless unwise action - it prolly would've passed without comment. Most cultures have blind spots like that. Look at the joke thread in the Cabaret and really analyze the jokes - are there any which could hurt someone if they applied it as a reality to them? I thought this was written as an attempt at humor, and took it as such. Actually, my first reaction was to remember Queen's "Fat bottomed Girls" and Sir Mixalot's "big butts" song (which after watching Shrek forever has a dragon associated with it). Laugh at pain and it cowers...

I thought Joe had three legs, just like his dog... And they both liked to play fetch. Funny ole Joe

That third line was meant to provide an implicit bridge between the internal intestinal imagery and the external acknowledgement of fascade when read in that context. The internal had hopefully not only evoked eating, but memories of anyone who's had the nausea of nerves, the ache of stomach pains, the stomach bending revulsion of reality as presented, etc. The transition is meant to move from the inner perception of the person's mind/body interface, to the perception of the outside and others - and slipping into the "lies" which bound up the end of the first stanza, the image of cool confident "no-weakness here to exploit" which is presented to the world, like a well-worn coat. This then moves into the buttoning up of the image and adjusting the collar, so to speak, in the last stanza - checking the fit before facing the world. Maybe I tried to work a few too many levels into this short piece, but I love poetry which reads in many ways...

I liked the clever pun on the word "lead".

How do I know that the killer won't just kill us all? If it's a given that they're Lawful Evil and therefore might honor their word, I'd have to go with the child - children are the genetic future.