Men of Fear and Panic

The highest mountain in Mars is 26 km high, and the deepest valley 7 km deep. Now, this naturally depends on where people somehow decided zero-level is, since there is no sea level, but either way. It's 33 km between the highest and lowest point. Imagine looking down that mountainside.

Mars must be the coolest planet. I mean, it's fire orange, has the name of a god of war, and its moons are called Phobos and Deimos which means "fear" and "panic". It's called "firestar" in Asian cultures, and it also belongs to the Aries; my starsign ^^ (It also matches the blog look, I just realized =P)


Watched Hellboy again some days ago. It's a good movie, but the final reason I fell head over heels for it is this charcter. For those who read The Return (see left side), he's an almost perfect recreation of Jitsu, and I wrote the story before I saw the film, before I ever heard of Hellboy. Naturally the "archetype" of this character is nothing new, first to come to mind is the slightly disturbing Mugetsu in The Bouncer. But I love the weapons, the masks, and he (Kroenen, not Mugetsu) makes black body suit go from spandex-warning to supersexy. Yes, I said it, even though he's not quite as sexy out of it ^_- I wonder if the actor can actually handle the weapons like that too? I think I have to get the actual DVD with extra material and see if it tells.

Almost forgot!

As promised, I remind you that today my old cell phone number has been reanimated, starting 073054XXXX. You can delete that other number, 073608XXXX, because it will never return as far as I am concerned.

Opiniated Rant

I have an opinion; I am told repeatedly that I seem like someone who has opinions, and that is true. The problem is that when my opinion takes flight from my mouth, it suddenly completely loses its point and I seem to talk in circles. Or so I feel, at least, like what I say don't have a point and core and is far too easy to pick apart. I'm just wondering; is it like this for everyone? Because some people seem to know exactly what they're talking about; they move around in complicated expressions as if it was their own back yard, and they drive a politic standpoint or moralic right as though heaven and hell hung on it. I'm not talking about their drive or conviction or reason, I mean: how do they find the right words, how come they have opinions that fit together with the language so well? I feel like I'm trying to plant a flower using a lawnmower, or whatever weird parallell you want to use for trying to do something with tools that aren't meant for it. I know how to use a lawnmower and I know where I want the flower, but the two doesn't work very well together. Writing, where I have some more time to think, I do better, but it still feels awkward and clumsy. Hardly because the language is insufficient, I doubt that. I'm cutting diamonds with a hammer, and there's nothing wrong with the hammer, that's the best analogy I can think of right now.

This is ultimately why I write fiction; because using fiction I can present an example where eventually as the story develops it can channel the feelings, impressions and opinions I otherwise can't get through to people.

Okay, so I admit, I had philosophy today. I wasn't talked down, we had a rather good discussion, but it felt like the more I tried to explain what I meant, the less it made sense, not because of my audience but because of myself. I don't know if I'm the only one thinking like that. Because it may just be that I think it's bad because I can't go back and look at it. Usually when I write I think what I've written is bad until I read it through. Well, anyway. My question still stands:

Does everyone feel like that?

End-of-sadness-week Rant

The blog looks African now? It does. I just picked the colors that matched the banner. I wonder what colors it would take to make something look Japanese. Or American. Everyone knows what it takes to look German; some bright, sharp, blue+red+yellow. I fucking hate those signs.

I looked some stuff up for some writing. I translated "cat" to latin and got:
feles -is f. cat; marten/ferret/polecat/wild cat; mouser; inveigler, seducer, tom-cat; thief;

Then, to find a random word to start with, since I got tired of always starting with some mentioning of night and day, I googled the letter "s". I got: McDonald's Now isn't that amazing.

Just some minutes ago I watched tv, did you know the average bra size in Great Britain is C-cup? They said something like, the breasts are the main sign of that you're a woman. Firstly, the easiest way to see what physical gender someone is is to look at their ass and/or hips. I am not kidding. Secondly, you are not your breasts. If you're a woman, you're a woman, breasts or not. If you want to make your breasts bigger or smaller because of comfort/ happiness/ estethics/ whatever, fine. But it doesn't have shit to do with being a woman. And neither does menstruation, bitches.

Moving on: I want to learn a language that has no automatic gender specifications in the pronouns, have any suggestions?

k, new look. can't be blue my entire life, can I? ^_-

A Lion

This lion doesn't have anything to do with anything, and neither does its club. I used a new coloring technique; I cloned the colors from a picture of a real lion and then painted them on top of one another with 20-50% fill to get the shadows, and the same with the wood and metal of the club. Thanks to Anna for mentioning the cannibalism and the zebra, or his clothes would have been coniderably less fitting.

And the person to blame for me putting this up and not keeping to the "global sadness week" is Phaze. I'm still really shaken up.

In Tribute To A Father

I declare the rest of the week in a state of global sadness. The most handsome, talented, normal, underestimated, beautiful blonde of Hollywood as left us.

Heath Ledger, the world will miss you.

I could have seen him being talked about in the future like the new grand star, the type of person we'd pass on to our children in forty years. Brokeback Mountain, A Knight's Tale, The Brothers Grimm, Casanova; we've discovered in him something most people say is impossible to find from a little pretty-boy; true talent.

For those who don't know, the media coverage have been shamefully thin, he was found dead in a hotel room, the only clue was loads of bottles of different sleeping pills. I know I've found him nervous and a little upset in the interviews I've seen from a few months after Brokeback and up till now, but damn, it's Hollywood, everyone acts strange.

Either way, the focus must not be on how he died, but how he lived. And even more on the fact that he has a daughter, who is so young that she probably won't remember her father.

And I don't know why this upsets me so much. I wasn't that much of a fanatic fan. But it really, really does. It feels really strange, as if I could shake my head and see the next newspaper headline saying he's about to do this-or-that movie, that it's all just a silly hallucination. Mostly because there is no way, no reason, no logic in that he would die now. He was one of those stars you can't imagine doing anything stupid and dangerous. Had he been hit by a car, I think I could have understood better. But by his own doing, accident or not? No.

I'd ask everyone to give him a thought once in a while and not forget him. And as the only point of light, it appears the filming for the new Batman movie, The Black Knight, was finished and it will be released as planned. If for nothing else, I will worship it for the fact that it almost seems as if he wanted to finish it before passing on. It actually scares me a little that he dies after playing the role of The Joker; perhaps the creepiest comic character ever.

May You Rest In Peace.

Story Of My Life 1

I haven't posted in a day or two, and I have nothing worth your time to say ^^ So with no further due, I'll tell you a bit about my life for the moment. Don't worry; if you don't read it you won't miss anything big like my pregnancy or anything. ^_-

On writing:
I wrote a story a week ago, app, but I will try to do as King adviced and not let anyone read it before I've let it rest a few weeks and then read it again myself. It's also in swedish, because I felt I needed to go back to the roots, start over a little, to get back the feeling. It worked reasonably well. But then I had to write a short story for school, based off an assignment from King's book, and whooey, I am not a horror writer. I'm more the psychological reactons and re-reactions type, than outright smashing of ankles. It ended up okay, even if I had severe trouble with how to end it without making it silly, considering that dead children is no small thing. I think I'll rewrite the second part soon.

On The L Word:
I got hooked. It's easy to do that with TV series (even as I said I was going to not watch so much). I've seen the first two seasons now, and I have to admit, watching in one streak does get tiring. I'm pretty much only watching for two reasons now; Shane, wow Shane, btw, but anyws, and knowing that somewhere in season 3 or 4 Max shows up. I wish I looked like Shane. And had a girlfriend like Carmen. That would be the day.

On Make-Up:
It's getting more and more important to me to look the way I want to look. So with the spare money I have, it's probably off to the city one of these days to refill my underfed make-up case, and get an eyeliner that doesn't suck donkey ass. Okay, and here is where I digress: in my head I'll start only buying clothes that I really want, practice make-up till I get the look I want, start working out, take better care of my skin... and so on. How much of this that will really happen is up to God. But I've had this kind of idea before, and every time I manage to do it a little more and a little longer, so one of these days, i swear...

On Cell-Phones:
I may regret changing phone and provider as much as I want; I'm legally stuck with it for two years. So I have finally changed my number back, and the deal will be closed the 30th of Jan. Don't worry, I'll remind y'all then.

Byesies!

I Have A Dream

I had a dream of waking lands where everything was gone
where every story had been written and sung was every song.
I had a dream where time had ended and night and day was one
and I saw the stars sharing heaven with the glory of the sun.
I had a dream where shouts of joy and wails of grief had ceased
where all the needs were satisfied and all the wants were pleased.
I had a dream of perfect peace without apple, without snake
but nothing ever happened there, so I hurried to awake.





(And I'll ramble a little to not make it two posts:
Tobias was on in Let's Dance tonight, it seemed the people watching it with me tired of my repeated statements of how handsome he was, how good he dressed, how beautiful his choreography is, and how he absolutely must not be voted out. Then I realized I was actually cheering for him because of his appearance rather than his actual contribution to the competition, and I was ashamed. From now on I shall simply enjoy every moment of his screentime and keep that as a separate form of entertainment from the show. After all, it's Dilba wer're supposed to evaluate. (Well, not that I actually vote.) But do admit; he is easily one of the top three when it comes to choreography, no matter how objective one is.
And who anticipated that Tony Rickardsson would be the king of the dancefloor? Well, I did. Because, listen, there are two types of men that makes out the absolute crème de la crème of manliness and physical perfection, who has strength, agility, stamina, and fingertip feeling; if you find one with good personality, then you've scored top of the food chain, baby. They are as follows; dancers and speedway drivers. And that is definitively the most indisputable thing I have ever said.)

Cosmo Canyon

Hello and welcome to "let's be a fucking ff-nerd" with The Iceye.

Today's installment will publish a text that, next time you play ff7 or if you are a premium member and have the music separately, you may sing along the tones of Cosmo Canyon (or as it also is called, Red XIII's Theme, I think). You may then be amazed by my genius. (I guess I should say I wrote it a while ago and rediscovered it now, but it wasn't so long ago that ff7 was young and active then either.)

Warrior

ref.
Deep deep down the canyon
oh hear the child's voice echoing pure:
"Have you seen the warrior
who's gone away?"

High high up the mountain
oh hear the eagle's thundering words:
"I have seen the warrior
he's gone away."

verse 1
"Oh eagle proud, what did you see?
Did he fight or did he flee?
What the spirit coursing through my veins?"

"Fooling child your heart is weak
nonwithstanding is your belief!
Trust the truth that hammers in your soul
like a warrior should!"

verse 2
"Oh eagle wise pray tell me how
shall I live my life now?
Naught remains where once I had a home."

"Blinded child, your purpose is clear:
those he left, they still remain here.
A home for you, now guard it with your blood
like a warrior should!"


Since the music loops, I should tell you that I regarded the point where it starts when you enter the area as the beginning. Looking at the notes, I noticed that Square didn't consider it that way, but whatever. Thanks for listening, and don't forget to tune in next week!

Long beards and plaits

I read about Jews, and thus far, they seem by far the traditional organized religion that most reflects what God must really be. Some Jews, I suppose orthodox mostly, do not accept converting, because they were a chosen people. I think it's an admirable stand. And as for all those born not being a Jew, if they're good, God will take care of them anyway. Listen, if God is good, why would he actively give people reason to murder, like asking them to force religion upon other? How is that mercy? How is that faith? As for where evil comes from, I think it comes from our own minds. I read a book written by a Jew about their religion, and it says that in each and every case of crime, one must look to all circumstances, one must have compassion. Thus, I think, evil is subjective. Only God can judge. We must punish where we can do nothing else, but we must not judge.

We all break down sometimes. According to many of the elder generation, it's because we're all sissys. I think it's cuz we're godless. Not in the blasphemous, burn in hell way, but in the way that we have no faith. I admire the hero that stands up for his cause even when the whole world comes down on him, but would I do it? I would have to have faith. Immense faith in everything, in anything. I don't think my generation was brought up to have that faith.

Well, I'm not blaming anyore for not having faith, it's not something you can just get, like a banana from the supermarket. It's something that has to be planted and nursed into growing, and sometimes we can't do that nursing on our own.

Excuse me if I'm crying, I was watching an episode of The L Word.

On Writing

We read Stephen King's On Writing - A Memoir of the Craft at school, and I have to say, only having read half, that it impresses me. (If only I could have read it in English instead; original language ftw!) Much of it is in fact a biography, but as the writer he is, that part too revolves around the written, around horror and the way writing has brought him where he is. (It truly has!) Without wasting breath trying to kiss someone's ass he gives direct examples of good and bad with quotes from different writers, says what he thinks is good writing and makes few compromises. I mean, just such a thing as saying "if you're bad you can never become a reasonable writer, if you're good you can never become amazing, but if you're a reasonable writer you can become good".

It also gave a moment's insight into my own writing; I've perhaps made it a bit too clinical and focused more on what I think is "right" instead of what my heart really wants to do. I've never been ashamed of wanting to write and wanting it to be my career and life, but the type of things I prefer to write, though... I feel it's not always I can present it with a straight face... or to be honest, I always talk my way around presenting it at all. Partly because I feel no genre fits what I do, partly because I know people will not understand if I try to explain; to story must explain itself. Asking me to describe a book is like asking me to describe a description, because that is what it is, the book is a description to convey a certain feeling, state of mind, or just story! This story I wrote, it's the best way to describe what I want to say, and then people want me to sum it up? I want to stand up and wave like a Britting prime minister and shout "Impossible!"

I remember the flow and the emotion I poured into About Love, how it practically wrote itself and how I absolutely loved every moment of writing it, the words never stopping, the thoughts never running away with wondering what people would think about or want from the story. Of course, some authors will say this is silly, that being able to write is a skill like any other, that we can't expect it to flow like this always. But what King says is; let it go. Let it flow, and if you have the skill and the mind and the heart, it will be good. Don't plan ahead too much, you'll kill the joy of writing. But to get that, you have to write, so just start.

Also, I get no inspiration whatsoever from movies. Comics, actually, is my best shot. Books, games, maybe roleplaying works too. Anime is the very last chance. Movies, TV-series... bullcrap. It seems it doesn't translate into the written word. So... I think I'm going to stop watching so much. I'll stick to the ones I just want as entertainment, pure exploding cars, gutting of aliens and handsome celebs, and skip everything else. Bloody waste of time.


And... I miss you.

Blame society

It feels the only thing I say when someone says a name, in class, in friendly circles, on tv, is who? In a way I begin to see the reasons for learning those extra words in the vocabulary, those silly four numbers, and those famous meaningless names, that my mind seem to dismiss as unimportant. If I am to learn them, though, I will have to make an effort out of the ordinary, and it will have to be constantly renewed. Much like my dedication to working out, actually; I see the necessarity, but fail the motivation.

I love Kingdom of Heaven. For many, many, many reasons. Was love that "simple" back in time? (Emotionally, I mean, of course. Romeo and Juliet had simple love, even if it wasn't easy.) It seems today, with individuality, spirituality, career and equality, and all that political correctness and mind-washing media, falling in love is more complicated, delicate and difficult to arrange than a billion dollar transaction between russian mafia and the Triad. Then again, am I only blaming society for my own faults? That is, after all, so much easier.

Sorry about this but: kaaa-waaa-iii ^^ Mr. Jacob had the tiniest hint of a stubble today. And hey, since people from school actually read this blog once in a while now, I'm not sure I dare write anymore, but what he was wearing... and his hair... kaaaa-waaaa-iiiii!

What's that look for? I need something to light up my day!

Just

There's no heartbreak, no sound of death
there's no pain to be left
there're no tears, no river of blood
there's no promise of words unsaid.

There is nothing to describe,

No stories to be told
No masks they must uphold
No treacherous the tought
No feelings to be wrought

There is nothing to describe,
nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing

'Cause it's just a man leaving
walking out the door
who has left a hundred times
and will leave a hundred more
and wheather he'll be back in just a day
or just a year
it's just a man leaving

just a man leaving,
not just any man.

I need music-friends who can write music for my texts. Feels like we're sufficiently proficient in all skills necessary in our gang, except music. Or?

Who's that g---?

Been kind of off on the blogging lately, just haven't been at the com. Friends, family, holidays, and new games, y'know. And I wasted this evening, my last in freedom for another seven weeks or so, on watching Mean Girls on some random channel... why did I do that? I hate Lindsay Lohan. If anyone's plastic, it's her. Oh... oops. Let's not go down that road ^_-

Today is good because:
*I happened to stumble across the episode of Ghost Whisperer where JC Chasez has a cameo. And he looks at his absolute best, and plays a music producer, and does not have that long curly hair he had for a while that forced me to avoid his picture.
*I got to see the commercial for Let's Dance (sweden) two times, and the guy there, who I seem to remember is named Tobias, is totally cute, which is nice even if you never get to see his face in the actual commercial.
*And this was yesterday, but me and some friends watched Zoolander, and it has some of the best cameo appearances I have ever seen. (Is it called cameo?)

Hm... lists are good when you have nothing to say. Here's another, less cheery and appearance obsessed one.

Having a neural problem with my leg sucks because:
*I can't dance, and I would kill to be able to dance. Well, professionally. I still think I can dance okay. I got da rythm, man.
*I can't do martial arts, and I would totally be able to kill if I did martial arts.
*I fall behind when taking walks with people, and sometimes people don't even care when I do.
I had more posts on the list, but it became so depressing that I decided to end it here. These are the tree things that matter most to me, anyway.

I liked the first list better. ^^ And I sound like a bimbo in this post (or the voice in my head that reads what I write to test how it sounds sounds like a bimbo) so I apologize (if that voice actually makes a difference on how I write, which I think it does, but I have been proven wrong often, and if anyone actually notices and/or cares).