La Muerta de la Alma

Death is a funny thing. Funny-haha and funny-strange.

I have always seen the humor nherent in death. I believe the logic goes like this:

Life is funny.
Death is a part of life.
Death is funny.

It's such a beautifully dark concept that most only know secondhand (except my unliving readers, of course), making it impersonal enough to be safe.

Yes, I have had loved ones die. It isn't happy. Their deaths aren't funny. Death is funny, loss isn't.

We all die. It's universal. Most don't come back. The inevitable truth can be either sorrowful, or utterly hilarious. I choose the second.

I wrote Void and laughed at the conclusion. And cried. Mostly I laughed.

I read A Softer World. The one's that deal with death are the best. To quote:

Nobody wants to die;

"I miss my little girl,
I never got to say goodbye."

Oh, suck it up.

She won't live forever either.

This is both entertaining and funny. Death possesses an enticing finality.


One Bloody Thing After Another was a hilariously dark horror story.

I read Stephen King novels. They give me a warm fuzzy feeling. Cthulhu is my Elder God of choice.



My attitude towards death might be just odd. However, my love of satire and sarcasm makes me a bad person. What also may make me a bad person is my adoration of Tycho Brahe (Jerry Holkins). I idolize his writing ability. I enjoy his works, despite his penchant for profanity and comments that, to some, may be considered vulgar. But the way he commands English is beautiful.

These days, swapping a disc twice in twenty to forty hours of gameplay is apparently on par with having to perform your own tonsilectomy, using only the tiny scissors which come folded into a Swiss Army knife and a swig of bottom shelf vodka.

Is this not art?

Also, for my readers who have recently had a lobotomy, he is not the man who draws the comic. That distinction goes to Gabe. Like Tycho, Gabe is a pseudonym.


Perhaps the greatest thing about this blog is the rambling. I needn't stay on topic. If I did this in my other work, Red would probably still be on his way to the Lab, passing Green's sisters house who has a thing for maps. Yet despite her love for them, her generosity is stronger. Everyone in town has received a map from her. Some say she creates them herself, carefully sketching Kanto's coast with the practiced hand of-

Despite the (pointless) exposition it provides, who wants thirty pages of that?



I am inspired. How would you feel about a Guide to the Apocalypse? Pointless exposition could be placed there, while point-ful exposition can continue the story. It could replace the Sorrows, as Met doesn't seem to like them. They may one day resurface on Stuff of Legend.

None of the above is a promise. I type as I think.

The schedule would then be (starting Sunday)

Apocalypse-Reogan
Guide thereof-Reogan
Tales-Reogan
SOTW-Met
Thoughts-Reogan
Feature-Elphaba
Sprite Showcase-Qupar

That reminds me. I gave Qupar my Saturday post. The blog was over saturated with my work. He starts next week, after God dreams no more.

This And That

I just beat my 123rd game of Freecell today. In a row. Without loss.

I'm thinking of a new blog. Allow me to explain it in a metaphor.

In the beginning there was a rather pleasant site and it created the foundations of the earth. For the people to know its will, it created a holy text, Between the Lines. Then the Creator of all blogs looked out and saw all he had made was pretty satisfactory. Yet he lacked a passage for his voice to reach the people through anything but his creation. So was founded From Whence it Came. Then the Creator looked down, and saw it was good. All was not good however. rps began to fill with stories. Soon it would explode. Thus the Creator saw need for a repository of old works. Thusly does Stuff of Legend come into being.

SoL does exist, but is not yet open to the public. It will open as soon as its archival purposes are needed. Nothing will be taken off rps but as tags are removed for cleanliness' sake, SoL will put up the tales, with tags, to assist finding old favorites.



Figroth makes some good sprites.

Sometimes.

A Frank Discussion

There is a nothing quite like getting comments. Words cannot express how much they mean, especially since I spend countless unpaid hours writing every week. I propose an exchange. You (my readers) try to give me feedback of some sort whenever possible, and in exchange, I will post five times a week on rps without fail (six while Met continues his hiatus), and attempt to continue to update BTL and this blog frequently. You can expect upwards of seven (probably closer to ten) posts a week, 5-6 of them regularly, and all you need to do is respond. Tell me if you like a piece, or if you'd prefer I avoid the topic in the future. Make these blogs personal.

Look at it this way. I like writing, but by updating the same pieces every week makes it work. Unpaid labor. I don't mean to complain, as I do enjoy a lot of it, but I provide you with a free service. All I ask is that you take a few seconds to give your thoughts on it.

Thank you.

The End

I frequently disagree with people. I tell myself it's because their all idiots (true) and I'm better than them (also true). It's actually because I'm a jerk (true). Regardless, I have a question for you.




What's the best way to die?






Seriously, think it over.






Now.







Before reading any more.






Ready?






Last chance...









You're wrong. No, it doesn't matter what you said. Besides, you probably took the mindless sheeple answer and said 'Die in my sleep.' If you had an ounce of creativity, you might have picked unexpected decapitation. Quick, and pretty painless. You're still wrong though. The answer to the question is an adverb. You can stick on all the qualifiers you want, but it all will boil down to the same thing. The best way to die is: spectacularly. It has endless possibilities, but it means you leave your mark on the world. Bloodstains are hard to get out.

Task #1. Leave a comment telling everyone your original (wrong) answer.
Task #2. Decide the best spectacular way to die. If you have an idea, but it's not yet perfect, considering adding the phrase on fire or in space. But not together. It's hard to burn without air.


Also, a note. I was writing something, and it spiraled madly out of control. All I retrieved from the flaming wreckage was the following, regarding photochromatic lenses. 'One would be best advised not to wear them at midday on a cloudy January day whilst driving through a blizzard. They will betray their owner.'

Lethargic Letter-Key Pressings

I ask that you ignore the self-explaining atrocity that is my title. I'm tired. Deal. I just wrote the next weeks worth of material for rps and I want nothing more than to go to sleep. Which I intend to. After typing this and watching the forty videos in my Youtube inbox.

Signs I am tired:

1. I normally take my laptop from my desk to bed with me so I can fall asleep in the comforts of the interblags. To do this, I first unplug my mouse. I did so. Then I grabbed the mouse and tried to... something. I can't remember. Anyway, the mouse didn't work and it took me a half minute to figure out why.
2. I decided 'Lethargic Letter-Key Pressings' could be a good title.
3. I picked up the mouse and tried to move into the main body of the post. It still failed to function.
4. I pondered this, and typed the first bit you saw above, and I spent a minute trying to figure out how to spell inbox. In my defense, Firefox underlines it as a typo, so I had some right to be confused.
5. I grabbed the mouse to start the bullet points. It did not work.
   
6. After thinking about this, I proceeded to grab the mouse and try to select bullet points. It seemed to be stubbornly refusing to magically work.
7. At both the second and fifth bullet points, I grabbed the mouse to fix a typo. I think the universe hates me.

I had relevant topics, but they elude me. I will make another list, as I can.

• I just tried to use the mouse again. After typing about how it won't work now. Sad face :'(
• See Avatar. It's a good movie. And a gorgeous one too.
  
• Oh no you don't, Mister Hand! I stopped you before you got to the mouse this time.
• My hand is, as I type, hovering over the mouse. It went there to capitalize 'Mister Hand.' After five minutes thought.
• Today I learned that everyone laughs at Bush's inability to speak coherently. Even those who worship him. Like, as the Creator of All. They laugh too.
  
• I just offended some of you. I fail to care.