I think it was on Christmas Eve, late at night, after all the excitement was over, that I went outside for a little bit alone for some air. You can see stars in the city, at least my part of the city, but I had forgotten what it's like, when the night is perfectly crystal clear and there are no lights to interfere. Not just stars, but like you'd taken a handful of glitter and spread across the skies; all those small stars that you never see in the city because the sky is lit up too much. It gets so dark here on the countryside, so completely dark it engulfs you in an otherworldly feeling. It took my by surprise.

For a moment I felt completely alone in the world, and the incomprehensible vastness of space made the reality of my own mortality well up from the beast beneath. The intelligent mind likes to push it away, but the beast knows. I got tears in my eyes, maybe because the insignificance of my life and death in comparison to the stars was a bit too much for me, but mostly because everything was so beautiful. Mortality, death, distance - and the sky. It frightened me, but made me wish for more.

Beauty is cold. It is not a warm red Santa, or the glimmer in a child's eyes, or the warmth of a hug. It has nothing to do with love or generosity. Beauty is a cold mistress, a crystal constellation; beauty is smooth, hard ice and deep impenetrable darkness and distant, uncaring light. Those who confess to the god of beauty will live like skulking wolves in the borderlands of the glowing crystal ice, forever struggling against their fear of light to get a glimpse of their most beloved mistress.

My beast stared up at the stars, and for a moment it shared with me the absolute obedience and loyalty that only beasts can know. It let me feel the fear that only beasts can fear, at the border between light and darkness, and it showed me how the light burned against its skin and how it still longed and longed for it. Perhaps it was my totem sign, marking my belonging to the church of glass and razorblades. But then again, we all knew that already.

Lövet och Stjärnorna

Jag är ett löv på stora havets vågor
och driver fram och åter som det vill.
Man säger mig att jag kan växa åror
om jag är modig och stark och lite till.

Man säger att där finns ett träd jag kom från,
och någonstans jag kanske blir ett träd.
Och likt ett legendariskt barn på halmstrån,
Tre Vise Männen kan visa mig min väg.

Man säger, du som kan se stjärnor
du borde ro dit stjärnskådarna bor.
Att driva runt är som med svin och pärlor;
varför va löv när man kan vara stor?

Men jag är blott ett löv på havets vida vågor,
jag ser stjärnor när de själva ror förbi.
Jag varit båt om jag var ment för åror
- men jag är Löv, och löv ska jag förbli.

Pony Aliens

This:

Now that I have your attention, that is indeed a My Little Pony gone Alien.

There's an awesome artist doing pony versions of popular culture

figures, ranging from Batman to Marilyn Monroe, go check out

Sippo on DeviantArt!

Not a common cover

Wish I could have done this one better, because it's awesome (and also cheating - genderflipping Witchblade is like shooting paralyzed ducks with a homing rocket launcher) but it's got way too much detail and stuff so I just preserved some general moody darkness.

I can't actually remember ever seeing a graphic novel with this kind of cover. Yaoi can possibly have scantily clad guys in compromising positions on the cover, but not quite like this actually, even if that's how they end up in the pages. And for a woman to get this kind of position? No boob, hip or neck exposure and with a serious, dark expression... also notice her lips being closed, while the dude (you might not see this because it's so small) has his scandalously slightly open.

Looking closely also made me notice other things. Like that her blade-tentacle-censor thingy is drawn as if it's hands grabbing her boobs. And I have no idea what the snake has to do with anything. The dude (whose name is Darkness) actually doesn't have *that* crazy shoulders to be a comic book dude. Lately I've realized that to make men look even impossibly more buff, they draw their heads smaller relative to their bodies which, when you start thinking about it, makes them look more silly than cool actually - just like I think Witchblade and all her boob-job friends look silly. I'm not saying all artists draw either gender that way however, there are plenty doing a fine job of applying cool comic style without drinking too deep from the more-is-better-fountain and falling off the tower of exaggeration in their drunken stupor.

Amnesia

It's been around for a while, but I haven't talked about it so I will now. I'm gonna recommend Amnesia: The Dark Descent. And if you're not going to play it, or am too much of a wuss like me to play it, I'm going to recommend watching Day9 play it. It's not only very amusing, it's like a crash course in fantastic game design, and fear.

I found it very interesting, on top of getting to "play the game" through him, to see my own reactions together with his and see where they overlapped and stuff. It's obviously very different playing the game and watching someone else do it, but watching it is as much as my nerves can take (I am a huge scardycat in games) and I knew from the earlier games from the company that they are absolutely awesome at what they do - which is to slowly, gently, carefully wrap you in dread and leave you standing in front of a door going "no, fuck this, no, no no I'm not gonna open it, no".

It also struck me that you have to accept the conditions of fear to actually feel fear. It becomes very obvious in a game or movie, because you can go "this is just a game, those are just pixels, I'm not going to care" and kill the whole game, pretty much. It's harder in a game because you're going through the motions, which fools your brain into thinking that it's actually happening more than just watching a movie. And it can still freak you out once or twice, but only because nobody's completely immune to surprise. However, most of the game builds of dread, and dread only works if you play along with the conditions. I am scared as fuck in games because I can be scared as fuck in games, it's okay. In real life a little fear is a good way to protect yourself, but being scared out of your mind is mostly detrimental to the effort, so I try to cast off the conditions as best I can. Neither of those two are chosen; it's just how my brain has decided it should be, so I can't play scary games and I dismiss most real life fear within seconds - the more abstract the harder to dismiss. I'm trying to figure out exactly what the conditions are; it's clearly something about wanting a certain outcome, like survival, and being only partially or only under the illusion of control of the situation, yet not leaving it completely to chance, and that there must be a chance of success however small.

Anyway enough rambling. If you're going to ignore both recommendations, go look up a "best moments of day9 playing Amnesia" on youtube or something because it's really too good to miss.

Why gays make perfect parents (but lesbians don't)!

Boys apparently need fathers to show them what it really means to be a man. I'm quite sure I had a mother, in exact terms I have two; although one is absent that clearly does not remove a father's label so it shouldn't hers. But can someone please explain to me what it really means to be a woman? I think I have a better idea of what it means to be a man, in fact, which I find an itsy bitsy bit amusing. Maybe our fathers are supposed to educate us on that matter too? Since they're all-knowing on the subject of manliness, they should reversely know what is womanliness, since it's all about polarization and stuff. No pressure, boys. It's not manly to get nervous, or have insecurities, or fail. Even women know to teach their sons that.

Special Flowers - A Superhero Gender Switch

I happened upon some "girl" versions of male superheroes, and was stuck by how extremely over the top sexual they were. To put Batman or Wolverine in that type of porn-poses would certainly raise a few eyebrows, but apparently females do not suffer the same respect. So I looked around and found that, yes, fanart is indeed extremely exaggerated most of the time, but the actual comics are more sensible (it seems even most comic book artists figure you can't fight Magneto in stilettos). This being of course sensible comics, I can't mention Witchblade or Fathom in this context and keep a straight face. (Just google it if you don't know.)

Well, so I decided to make my own gender-switch fanart, but with two conditions:
1) keep the original costume as true as possible.
2) keep the original pose as true as possible.

So here's my little transexual darlings, with the originals down below (since blogger still refuses to put images next to each other... -.-) The coloring is very lazy because, well, I'm lazy.

I'm not happy about Wonder Man, and I apologize to the world for Batwoman but that's his pose I can't by rules change it. On the other hand I'm in love with Spider Man (I loved that suit already on Boobs McBoobpants, so on a pretty boy... mmm), and Superwoman is clearly over-awesoming the original. And who knew that when you turned Invisible Woman male she turned into her brother? A clever eye will see that the only difference between Spider-Man and his female counterpart is boobs, but it's because of his pose ok! There's no curves to work with and no muscles to shrink. And it's "superwoman" not supergirl and "batwoman" not batgirl -.- I'd like to see "Batboy" and "Iron Boy" try to be taken seriously. Invisible Woman is, in many ways, the first lady of Marvel (or superhero comics) in her whole-body suits and "woman" not "girl" name. Which they of course quickly remedied in the movies.

I have failed my conditions on one single point, I'm sure you saw; I kept the Hulk shirtless and even ventured for nipples, but I couldn't put the male Supergirl in a skirt. The point was actually not to make fun of it or whine about sexism, but to see that many of them still make sense (like the gender-switched Superman and Mr. Fantastic) and that women not dressed in skimpy outfits and posing like porn stars are also cool and awesome - as well as the reverse! Special flowers like Elektro also deserve some space - look at that Hand assassin, isn't he some sexy shit? The male Storm turned into a manga character... but this is one of my least favorite Storm costumes.

Don't hold your breaths, but there will probably be more, I have some epic pictures of said Witchblade I'd love to switcharoo and even more agressively manly Batman (I know, how is it possible?!?).

PS. If you're dissatisfied with the average boob size in this post, I would let you know that I suck at drawing girls, and suck even more at drawing boobs, so you should be glad you have boobs to look at at all. I'm rather sure I got progressively better the more of them I drew though, mostly because for every n:th girl, I had to redraw them inifinity - n times.

A Different Kind of Travel Diary

Berlin.

Now nothing but a token in my head, like a notch on a bedpost. I didn't want to take general pictures, at first, because I wanted it all inside, I wanted it to be all mine. No one and nothing can steal memories. They can take them away or destroy them, but never steal them. Then I took pictures, on my "sightseeing day", because the girl I was with did it. Conformity, mimicking to make a bond, more than trying to preserve visual memories. When I came, I knew there were only two photos I wanted and was going to get at any cost. The big arc, and the pieces of the wall at Potsdamer, and I wanted those for one reason only: proof. I was there. I had been there, at those locations, which were exactly where JYJ had been two days earlier. But when I took those two, I thought, in this modern age of internet, photoshop and reality-like graphic technologies, what kind of proof is a photo? No. I still cherish those two photos, but in reality there is only one proof: memories. All mine.

I've been emotionally haywire, it's starting to settle now. Haywire in my own quiet way. And though the dust has settled, the pigments sunk to the bottom of the glass and the water is clearer, I can conjure it back. Just take my little finger and gently draw it over the water surface and see the colors swirl. All I need to think is "I walked away, I left of free will." Being on my own in a foreign environment, I realized, happiness doesn't come in many forms it comes it one. One. And it has not been here for a while. I walked away, I left of free will, I willingly walked back into my cauldron of despair.

Loving someone you don't know is like an addiction to the pain. A pain that makes you feel more alive than ever, and then, when it settles, makes you want to claw your eyes out, just to a moment later be chasing the high again. I must never let go of my vow to never drink alone. I must never smoke a cigarette, and I must be careful with medicine. Because it's so easy. It's so easy to want the addiction, and once you want it, you're not longer steering the boat, you're just riding the waves, the ups and the downs. It's wonderful, it's liberating, it's an illusion of freedom so strong you can no longer see any other freedom.

Berlin.

Without JYJ Berlin is just a city like any other city, filled with people like any other people, and buildings like any other buildings. Sticks and stones, flesh and bones. But it's not about JYJ, you know that, just like it's not really about alcohol or pills or cigarettes. It's about that through my own madness, for one day only, I gave Berlin wings and turned it into something beautiful. And like all true art, it lasted only for an all too short time.

That Which Wants

I want such peculiar little things.
I want to lift my feet when it vacuums,
and do its laundry,
and not mind when it walks in on me dancing stupidly in my headphones.
I wouldn't mind walking with it,
but I don't want to bike with it,
or drive with it,
unless I can ride in the back.
I don't want to share my cat cuddle time
- that's between the cat and me -
but I would love to watch the cat sleeping
on it sleeping.

I want to walk beneath orange streetlights
like a model on a catwalk to the beat in my ears
in the cold night air,
wishing I could reflect the light like cat eyes -
then I would leer at myself in the darkness,
smirk and giggle darkly
that I am that
which lifts its feet when you vacuum,
which does your laundry
and watches you sleep with a cat on your chest.

Movie Review: X-Men First Class

Saw X-Men First Class and, boy, do I like it better than those other three X-Men movies... actually, let's forget all about those and pretend they never existed. For all intents and purposes this will vastly improve your quality of life, I promise. It still has its flaws and stuff, but this movie actually manages to feel more like the comics, which is good. It wouldn't be impressive, only to expect, if it weren't for those three non-existing movies that you've forgotten that had directors that knew nothing about the comics. Possibly the first one is watchable, if it existed. So in the shadow of things that do not exist, this movie is impressive. On its own, it's merely a good action movie, that I enjoyed watching. Also because the actors don't suck and actually fit their respective characters, as opposed to... okay I'll stop talking about things you're trying to forget.

I was hesitant at first. Through the first 20-30 minutes I was basically holding my breath, watching the movie do a delicate balance act without safety net where I expected it to fall off and land on its face, and saw its feet trembling. What kept it standing was Kevin Bacon and the Angel of Hope. Then it stabilizes, pretty much as soon as Charles and Eric meet. The two of them balance out like the long stick rope walkers have. Suddenly you have cool X-Men with cool powers that they actually use in sensible and intuitive ways (such as Eric using his body and magnetic powers to press Charles against the floor of the plane when it goes down), as well as character depth (the big one of course being the clash of experience, upbringing, nature and idealism between Charles and Eric - something both actors manage to convey with feeling). And even humor, that doesn't feel milked out of a cow's ass. Woo. Since everything is new and raw to the characters as well it's a lot easier to take in and understand than Magneto and Professor X shouting "you never understood anything" at each other forty years into the future.

*SPOILER WARNING*
A part of my approval might lay with the choices of mutants to appear. Banshee, Havok, Angel (the wasp girl not the bird guy), Emma Frost... they're all cool people, who opposed to people like Phoenix and Wolverine carry a little less iconic baggage which makes them easier to portray and let people focus on who they are rather than who they think they should be. The one thing I dislike about the casting is that they do the good old "only the black guy dies" thing, which feels very old by now, and especially since the black guy in question is a fairly obscure character - taken in only to have a black guy? Being also a noble character with interesting powers, I believe Darwin deserved a better cinematic fate. Rather do what you want and forget about token people. As an Asian, I can just as well go "where's my token Asian person?". Eventually people like that would control your movie. Considering this is set in the '60s, it'd be neither offensive nor unrealistic to have an all-caucasian cast.
*SPOILER OVER :D*


Summary:
This movie could also be called:
Kevin Bacon and the Mildly Annoying Good Guys - but stealing the show is very in character for Sebastian Shaw; it's pretty much been his character weakness all along :D
How Magneto Got His Silly Helmet - and just to be sure he sillifies the reasonably unsilly helmet as soon as he gets it.
But what I really want to call this movie is:
Better. 

168 Hours

A week has 168 hours, and despite wasting most of them, I always feel they're not enough. And then I waste some more worrying about wasting so many. So I decided to waste one on something slightly more productive; make a list of how my ideal 168hour week would look, if I didn't have to worry about making enough money and all that.

The first thing that happened as I wrote down what I wanted, was that just a normal week, a real week, on my part, is short 20-something hours even at the best of circumstances. That's mostly because I play too much games and get stuck zoning out or cuddling my cat.

So on with the (roughly calculated) imaginary ideal week then:
Necessities:
Sleep 7-8h/d = 49-56h
Food&Related 2h/d = 14h
Hygiene 1.5h/d = 10.5h (includes an averaged out amount for things like laundry)
Total: 73.5-80.5h (and since I like dreaming, I'm going to count on the higher of those.)
Fun:
Writing&Related 3h/d 5d/w = 15h
Social 2h/d = 14h
Games&Roleplaying 3h/d = 21h
Other Entertainment 1h/d = 7h (tv, movies, music...)
Excersise = 2h
Travel&Transportation = 7h (too much?)
Misc 0.5h/d = 3.5h (dressing, zoning out, pet care...this is counted generously low)
Information 1h/d = 7h (mail, phone, news, magazines...)
Total: 73.5h 

This makes 154 hours.

Which leaves 14 hours. If I had a little more confidence in my own discipline, I'd set 5h a day instead of 3 on writing, but I'm not sure I could keep that up. And if I could sleep less I would. One hour less per night makes 7 whole shiny hours to do other things with, but only if you're not so tired that you're zombieing through those hours. Travel is so high because I counted on things like visiting friends and family now and then. The leftover 14 hours (or 21 if I slept less) would be distributed on things like writing binges, significant other(s), special occasions like birthdays, appointments, more Misc and so on.

This is, above all, a week that is extremely unlikely to ever happen.

The reality-based week I sketched up ended up only barely making sense if I work/study half-time, which is something I've already realized. I'd have to make drastic changes to myself and my life to manage full-time without going insane and failing at everything like I am right now. Also in reality I've cut away the writing, and of course don't exercise, both of which probably does me more harm than help.

I think I'm going to make a time-sheet and see what I do with all my hours for like a month. If I can keep that up (and keep myself honest) maybe it will tell me some (probably very harsh) truths about reality.

Holding on to nothing.

What's worth ending a friendship over?

My instinctive answer to that is: you can't. If someone was ever really your friend, the two of you will always be. Something might happen that make you not speak to each other for five years, or he or she might turn into someone you don't really like anymore, but if your friendship was at any point true, friendship will always remain there in the bottom. Ten years later when you need something, that friendship will be like a flat +5 bonus no matter what happened in between - even if your friend murdered your parents or somesuch.

But is that true? Or are friends, like any other kind of relationship or alliance, something that comes and goes like the tide as you and the people around you grow and change? Like, today a blue shirt, tomorrow a red? And you never really know anyone, so can you ever really have a true friendship?

And so if friendships can end, then what is worth ending them for? Love? Principle? Self-preservation? Faith? Or is it that you can end friendships - but there is nothing worth that price?

Maybe the question I ought to answer rather is this one: What makes a friendship worth keeping?

How to hijack a me.

Just saw a cute variant on the "bringing a knife to a gunfight" saying; "bringing a cop to a superhero fight" :D

I had like twenty things to say when I opened my browser, but after my daily Twitter, Gmail and GReader round I've been overrun with new stalker pictures of Jaejoong, the news that my CD is now on the way, and some very sweet comic pages. Wiped everything else. What did I do before that? How did I get here? Who am I?

Cute!
My personal favorite is the baseball guy. Look at that S-line! And nothing beats shorts and knee-high socks!

Movie Review: Ninja Assassin

Welcome to the movie review of Ninja Assassin, also known as "A 90 Minute Study of Rain's Abs".

Let me make something clear first; this is not a deep story movie, and those who expected it to be are in for a well-deserved disappointment. However with decent acting and beautiful filming, it flies safely over the dark abyss of porn-quality. Some official or other starts digging into the truth behind a rumor of a secret ninja organization. So we leave the story, because it's standard, and neither contributes greatly or ruins anything.

We have established that it's an action movie. It's also, obviously, a martial arts ninja movie. Let me make another thing clear: this is not a realistic movie. Those who expect that past the first five minutes are also in for a well-deserved disappointment. Ninjas move in darkness like in that horror movie called, oh right, Darkness, and obey the ninja trope of "the more ninjas in one place, the worse they get".

However, taking the movie at face value, I enjoyed the action a lot! Almost all of it is blade-based, very little fists or firearms, and they've done the most of it, with dark moody settings where the glimmering blades and the exaggeratedly red blood are the only focal points. Think Sin City and replace American noir with ninja manga dismemberment á la Blade of the Immortal. I think the stylistic yet semi-realistic violence balances between beauty and grotesqueness in a fascinating way, and I love the blade-on-a-chain weapon and the visual effects it produces.

The Rain (aka Jung Ji-Hoon) whose abs we study is a Korean actor/singer and the reason I saw this movie in the first place. While I openly admit bias, I think he really is a good actor, a better actor than singer, and he's gotten a few awards and remarks from high places. Obviously his acting is hardly put to the test here, but I think what keeps the story together and on level is the performance from him and the big boss, Shô Kosugi.

In summary: I greatly enjoyed watching this movie, and I think all the bad reviews are a little unfair. It's not trying to get the Nobel prize in philosophy, neither is it trying to accurately depict ninjas. I like it a great lot better than many other brainless action movies that have gotten a much more favorable reception. While watching it in complete darkness certainly helped, the way they played with shadows was exciting, and the style of the action as well as the acting quality were very positive surprises considering what I'd heard about it. Together with the added bonus of "A 90 Minute Study of Rain's Abs" (and trust me, heterosexual men, they are a bonus for you as well), it is hovering in the top50-borderlands of Totally Enjoyable Friday Night Movie.

PS. Also don't whine at that all the ninjas speak English. It falls under the "take at face value", together with "how the hell did they get armored vehicles from Europe into the Japanese mountains".

Hope

I will most likely not live as long as any of you, given the state of my body and my lifestyle. (Although I hope the nornir will cut me some slack for not smoking.) I'm telling you because should something ever happen, I want you to know that I don't think I'm missing out on sixty years of health and happiness. That is unlikely.

I'm telling you because a couple of days ago I got a life scare, like accidentally walking into the road in front of a car kind of scare but not exactly that. I asked myself, if I am actually going to die very soon, like a moment or a month from now, can we handle that information? Amazingly my mind answered; "Yes, that is okay. We have written down that story we wanted to write, even if it's not quite polished yet it's out there. So if we must go, we go in peace." (Although to be completely honest, it also said "it would be nice if we got to meet Jaejoong first and tell him eye to eye that he's awesome, maybe he would agree to it if we were dying?) Anyway, I don't mean I think I'm done, like one single story is all I ever wanted, but across these last couple of years I've actually been afraid of dying, only because what if I died before that story I was working on was done? Actually all the way to, what if I get a meteor in my head before I finish the next chapter? Now it's done, so it's fine. It's fine until I get started on another one that I feel as strongly about.

So, universe and everything. If I must go, please pick a time in between stories. And if you're feeling generous, relatively painless would also be nice, and preferably before every muscle in my body breaks from the strain of compensating for my leg being a bitch. I think that's all.

(I realize it makes me sound crazy to refer to us as we when I talk to myself, but look, I (that's one), and myself (that's two), and one plus one makes two. Two is a we. We are not crazy.)

Top50 Movies as of 2011

Finally my top 50 movies, although it's actually a top 48 because I kept two spots open in wait of watching Inception and Black Swan but haven't gotten around to it, and I have a feeling I've forgotten something. I also made a top9 because they set themselves so dramatically apart from the others, at least in my heart, that they clearly rank above the others. The other 39 are divided in rough genres to make it a little more manageable to read, but aside from the top9 being above the others (and roughly ranked against each other, I realize), there's no internal ranking. I guess I'll write some silly comments like you guys did ;)

I also want to point out that I didn't read your lists until now, because I didn't want to get last-minute infections from you that would ruin it :P the point was to share new things not echo each others, so that's how it is anyway. 

TOP 9
The Big Blue - I cannot empathize enough the emotions this movie gave me. Fucking dangerous.
Leon  - The love-at-first-sight meeting with Luc Besson and Jean Reno.
Oldboy - The whole movie is a bloody wonder, but that moment near the end hit me so damned hard.  
Wall-E  - Nicking in together with the Lion King, an instant classic that hits all the right notes.
The Lion King   - In a sense my first meeting with concepts like honor, but most of all because I love Simba and Scar equally, which taught me so much.
District 9  - The best political movies are those that never feel like one.
Batman: The Dark Knight - We were all dancing around after leaving the cinema, so you know why.
Adam's Apples  - Absurd, human and beautiful, a hidden Danish treasure ^^
Boondock Saints  - If the stylish main characters don't win you over, the violence will :D

 ANIMATED
How to train your Dragon - I also want a black beautiful cat-dragon! Gimme!
Ratatouille - Not sure why tbh but I love it.
FF7 Advent Children - Yes, actually, not just as a fan, but the visuals, the music, the composition, is great.

DRAMA / ROMANCE
Love Actually - In all honesty, basically the only romance movie you'll ever need.
Le Fabuleaux destin de Amelie du Montmartre - Had to write the whole title, because it feels just like the movie, ridiculous and perfect.
About Adam - Would love some opinions on this. It amused me greatly though.
Hard Candy - Surprised me at the time, and also of course star performance from Ellen Page.
The Merchant of Venice - Shakespeare! Amazing performance by Al Pacino as the Jew.

The King and the Clown / The King's Man - Korean historic drama, difficult but intriguing.
Postman to Heaven / Heaven's Postman - Fantastic visuals and charming story lifted this from just fan love of the actor to love of the movie itself.
Whale Rider - A slow but fierce story of a Maori girl fighting to fulfill her destiny despite her gender and the times around her.
Definitely Maybe - Charmed me despite going in with low expectations.
Ballad of Jack and Rose - I would never see it again, but it slowly, light as a breath, crept under your skin while watching.

Efter Bryllupet / After the Wedding - Touching and twisting.
Les amants du Point Neuf - One of those great movies you see only once because it hurts too much to watch.
Forrest Gump - Overwhelmingly cute and one of those happy success stories that doesn't make you barf.
The Fall - Because the act of telling a story can also be a story, and change the one who tells it.
Crash - Worth every award it's gotten.  

HORROR
Cloverfield - Came into it not knowing anything, which was good. Got the proper surprise effect ;)

ACTION / THRILLER / SOMETHING
Kingdom of Heaven - Something about that whole honor and a man's gotta do crap that always works for me. Also Jeremy Irons and a cool king in a mask.
Once upon a time in Mexico - Like Boondock, it's an elegant mix of violence, style and humor.
Memento - Something of a token spot; yes it's good, yes it's innovative, we all heard it the first time.
V for Vendetta - Managing to keep decently close to the comic, while not feeling terribly much like one.

Inglorious Bastards - Not because of Brad Pitt, whom I hate in this movie, but because the script is fuckin' awesome.
Iron Man - Somewhat the same motivation as V for Vendetta; and R.D.Junior is ofc Stark. IRL. Really.
Pitch Black - Fantastic stylish sci-fi horror/action with a treasured absence of silly space-ships.
No Country for Old Men - This movie has balls.

300 - Love the visuals, even if I think they're already a little dated so you can "see the bluescreen".
The Good The Bad The Weird - Korean action movie with a lot of cool action and even a little plot.
Lock, Stock and 2 smoking barrels - Better than Snatch, IMO, in that it has more shooting ;)
History of Violence  - Aside from the Hollywood touches that dirties it at times, it's a cute murderous story.

COMEDY
Easy A - The clever teen movie. Ooooh, was that a flying pig?
The Hangover - Hangs on just at my level of stupid humor.
Zombieland - Is so amusing it's criminal. Was that the second Emma Stone comedy? Look at that.
I'm A Cyborg but it's OK - Oldboy-director goes "I'ma do some random insane romance-comedy now", and it's just as great!

 SOMETHING ELSE
Ink - Like picked out of the head of me or someone I know, a whole fantastic world to share for an hour and a half.
Cube - Also never to see again, it really messed with my head.
Pan's Labyrinth - Scary in so many ways.
Hero - See it, if for nothing else than just for the colors.

HONORARY MENTIONS
Snatch - Got kicked off this list by Lock Stock and 2 Smoking Barrels.
11.14 - Sort of the forgotten Crash, it's perhaps not quite as good, but definitely worth watching.
Stardust - I do prefer it to Princess Bride, because that one totally falls off the wagon halfway through.
Batman Begins - Kicked, ofc, by The Dark Knight.
Pirets of the Carribbean:At world's end - If any of them were to make it, it would be this.
Funny Girl - I don't really do old movies, so this is the exception.
Happy Feet - We all know what it's like to have a rythm in our bodies that we can't let out, don't we?
Memoirs of a Geisha - My mind and I had a conversation. It went; "put it on", "nah", "why not?", "dunno".
Lucky Number Sl3vin - The further I get on this commenting, the more I start doubting what should on the list and not. Damnit.
Se7en - This is not on for the same reason as I felt obligated to put Memento on; it's good, everyone knows it, old news, boring.
The Tourist - Was a pleasant surprise all things considered, I think. Pleasant and surprising enough to get mentioned.
Avatar - Well, the graphics are fantastic. The story is a word-by-word ripoff from Pocahontas or every other Romeo and Juliet. Bah.
Silent Hill - The only other horror movie that's been to my liking. Pyramid-head! Run! Waaaah!

Okay before I run away, I want to make some little overview notes. It's obvious from the list, I think, that I favor strange and violent movies, preferably visually impressive, and that I've watched a lot of Korean and Danish movies these last few years. Also I have flashes of terrible taste. Definitely Maybe? Well, I stand by my list. There's not a single Swedish movie, interestingly. I was considering the Millenium-series, but in comparison with the books they just pale out into a mushy gray mass that I can't even review fairly, despite Noomi Rapace rockin' her boots off.

The movies that are on all three lists are these (correct me if I'm wrong):
The Lion King
Wall-E
The Dark Knight 
which I would say is fair enough. If anyone else would like to contribute a list of their own, fret not, there is still time! ^^

Now then. AAAAAHHHHH! 

The end of a story

So my computer died and stuff so that top movie list will come around later. Right now what I want to tell you is that I finished that awesome thing I was writing. Finishing a story is always equal parts excitement and great pain, because yay it's finished, but boo it's finished :P Same as when a good movie or game finishes but bigger.

Anyway I'm not posting it here for all the world to see because it needs proofreading and opinions and revisions and all that cool stuff, and also because it's more important to me than the other stuff up on this site. So I know you're all a busy lot with your own lives to keep together, but if anyone would feel like taking the important task to polish it, I'd be very happy. It's 80 pages, in English, and I have both just mechanical proofreading of spelling and grammar in mind as well as opinions on the content and the way I present it. Harsh opinions if need be, because I really, really want this one to be good and I will take any kinds of abusive reviews if it can help me get there.

It also needs a title. So if you want to read it just to help me put a title on it, then that would also be an option.

Crazy yelling Asian girls.

Mucking about on the computer on bed, with the window open so Loki can come and go as he wants. The way the window opens, you can't see my bed from outside, and I can't see out. So I hear the sound of Loki jumping into the windowsill, and the silhouette of his head looking inside. Odd, Loki usually jumps straight in.
"Oh hai," I say, sticking my head forward prepared to cuddle.
The cat turns and looks right at me, very calmly, and the light reflects in its eyes that way it does in cat eyes so they shine. And I realize, it's not Loki - in fact it's a cat identical to my grandmother's cat that died a few months back. With those demon eyes staring at me from about two decimeters away my brain goes "GHOST! INTRUDER! DANGER!", and I get a rush similar to if a stranger would stick their head into my room with a pocket knife.
"OUT!" I yell like a crazy woman at the poor cat, that looks at me with normal eyes now since it's turned away from the light. I fly out of bed, but neither the yelling nor the action fazes it. If it had eyebrows, one would slowly go up and the other down.
By now I've realized it's not a ghost, and it's not there to bite my face off because I took pictures of it a day before it died. Just a new cat I haven't seen around, that's oddly unafraid of crazy yelling Asian girls in nightgowns. So I stand in the middle of the room, and the cat sits on my windowsill, and we probably feel equally stupid.
It shouldn't sit there anyway, inside is Loki's territory that I should protect. So I shoo it a little. It looks gravely offended and turns around and leaves.

Watch it. Just shut up and do it.

King of Games

The movie list will be around soon. I just had to make a small observation of life with Loki:

Cat + strong mint-smelling cooling paste = D: -> XP -> T.T
I put some on my foot (since I kicked a table, how intelligent and graceful) and now he's walking in big circles around me.  Also all the rain makes him really cuddly. Surprisingly, he's not too keen on going outside in the wet, and seems to think that sleeping on top of me at all times increases the chances of the rain stopping.

I'm playing Yu-Gi-Oh again! One of the older NDS versions. I have a feeling I will play it in periods forever :P It's so much fun! Card games are logic and crazy all in one neat organized package of total control over the lack of control xD. Probabilities, you see. Those gnarly bastards. What I like about it, is that there's cards for virtually anything, even ridiculously stupid things, so that you can build giant complex insane strategies that have a probability of one in a million to actually ever come into play, but it doesn't matter because you had so much fun coming up with it! And also you can just throw together a deck based on some basic principle, like, healing yourself, or tossing out the cards in your opponent's hand, and it usually works if you just want to play right now. Pokemon is fun but too simple to do those crazy fun things, and Magic: The Gathering never really hit the spot. My spot, I mean. Tapping things is for tap dancers anyway. Posh and poncy people*.

*opinions expressed in this post is in no way representative of the real life opinions towards tap dancers, by anyone, and particularly not me.

Setting the Stage

I've been working on a top50 movies imo list. It's impossible. It's like some kind of quantum-time-space-mechanics behind liking things, because I look at movie A and movie B and rate movie A higher, then look at movie C and think it's better than A but worse than B.

To make it at all possible I decided that it's only a top50 in the sense that those on the list are better than those not on the list. I'm not saying these are the movies with the best story ever, or the best screenplay, or the best music score, but rather those that stuck with me, no matter if it was because it was thought-provoking or immensely entertaining, or whatever.

So in essence, one could say I'm making a list of the 50 movies I am most likely to recommend to any given person on any given day.

Now, feel free to make your own lists! Top 10 or top 100, or whatever. Like always I'm making this list because I'd really like to have your lists :D Setting the example and hoping for everyone to follow! :P I need a little while longer though, I have like 15 movies competing for the last 5 spots on my list, and it's bloody difficult! It should come around sometime next week.

Oh and I gotta recommend Minor Acts of Heroism, an awesome, charming, and very pretty little webcomic. The one and only backside is that the updates are far apart.

Words as my Wolverine

I'm somewhere on page 64 in a story that I know will be my best yet. It's been under construction for more or less two years, on and off, and I've gone to great pains making sure every word is right, rewriting large chunks, digging deep into my own emotions and letting it take its time. There's a part I've rewritten a whole of five times, and it's still not just that right as it needs to be. Because it's important I get it right; it's built around emotions so deep and basic to me, that writing the story has been a way to cope with something bigger than I ever thought I could handle. And it's starring a character that's been in my head for an even longer time, and that I greatly love.

I'm at approximately 3/4, at the build up to the moment when they jump off the trampoline and really make the dive to the big finale, and I'm letting the conversation between two characters flow freely because if the story is right, they will naturally come to all the points I need them to. And then one of them says a line, that completely throws me off. Just like the veil that is supposed to come off the main character's eyes around now, I realize I've walked on air. It takes all momentum out of me, I've been writing nonstop for four hours and now my fingers just freeze.

I try to create some kind of comeback, a sensible answer. But what's happened, is that I've come forward in my attempts at processing the things that lay as ground for this story. The writing process has taken me to a new step in my own emotional state. Unfortunately, that means my head now decides that this story is crap. I've come around and gotten a grip on it and started to understand it, so suddenly I can't understand why I needed to write this story. I've passed the point of no return; knowledge.

It's an homage, in a way, to someone I loved, though. And a form of celebration of love itself, although that might seem twisted. So I will finish it. And I will hope that it isn't crap, that it is a story that need to be read as much as it needed to be written. I will hope I can still do it justice. While before I was a demon writing of inner demons, I'm now, well, not so much. And there is much of the demon in this story.

They say it's the journey, not the goal.

The learning process is a painful one. It's a long stretch of pure repetition, where you make mistakes, correct them, adjust and memorize. You slowly crawl your way from abysmal to passable. When you hit that passable, you've struggled so much that you think, now, now it'll work. Then you have a row of opportunities ahead, most of which will turn out not in your favor, not exactly because of you, but because the right moment simply won't arrive. If you're lucky you won't have to wait too long for that right moment, but no matter how long, you will be frustrated, eager to accomplish something. The deceptive initial success will fill you with confidence and hope. And this is the moment, when you're ready for your time in the limelight and your share of the rewards, that life will tear the carpet from under your feet. You'll make A Mistake. The other "mistakes" you made were just little forgettable sidesteps on a wide road, this is where you set your foot down and realize you've been walking on a rope and you just missed it. Most likely you won't just fall yourself, but everyone else around you. It's when you've stood up from that fall, seen to your comrades, patched up the bruises and hopefully nobody was seriously hurt or maybe they were, that you've actually really learned something. And it will only be worth it if you get up and do it all again, because this is the point where you realize, where you fully understand, that all that work has taught you the letter A. Now for the rest of the letters of the alphabet.

What you also realize, most likely, is that all you will ever get out of all this is the slight chance that at some point, just when the time is right and the moon is red and pigs fly, you might get to recite the alphabet just once, if you manage to walk that mile on the rope, and it probably won't be perfect or pretty or at all as you dreamed of all those days in initial training. It's here you'll know if you really like what you're doing; if you really want to learn, because if you do, it will be worth it even so.

A or B

One or the other is true:

A) I am utterly incapable of motivating myself to do anything I don't want to do, and I cannot anticipate or control what I want to do.

B) I subconsciously sabotage everything I do whether I want it or not, for some sublime psychological reason yet undiscovered.

I'm not sure how to find out, since I never know if I actually want something. Hm.

A Farewell to S

I just found out another good, brave man has left the battle. It's frightening that people can just suddenly disappear like that, somehow I hold in calculation that the people closest to me might die at any moment from age or disease or accident, but I forget that everyone around us are also mortal. In any case, yesterday was his time. I really liked him, the little I saw of him - in fact I had one of those little-girl-crushes on him and used to spy on him whenever he visited dad - and it feels unfair that those I've liked the most are the ones fading away first. My heart to his family.

Return to the Lifestream, strong one. Our essences might meet again there.

Note to self:

Just came home from the IKAA Gathering, overall two things will stay in my memory of this day, aside from the obvious "pretty house", "oh gosh so many koreans" and stuff.

a Swedish Korean adoptee who have lived in Korea five years, yet never really thought about any of the stuff talked about today - racism, identity, nationality... It made me wonder many things about her and myself, but most of all it felt like hope: here is someone just like me who is at peace.

and an Italian Korean adoptee who said "Maybe this is our prize - our gift in return for the traumas and things we've gone through: a unique perspective that nobody else can have." It made me realize that I don't feel as if this whole Korean thing, or this whole adopted thing, was forced on me and I don't wish it undone. It's more like I'm trying to understand this unique perspective I was given, because it's my duty and privilege as the receiver of such a gift.

the choice of What If

Tomorrow I am off to meet other Korean adoptees, mostly Swedes but also from other parts of the world, and to listen to a bunch of them talking about, well... us. I asked myself "why", just before, and I'm not sure. I think, because I want to determine just how big a part of me this really is.

But as to "how big parts of us things are" it's a little arbitrary, wouldn't you say? Would I be this hopeless unmotivated game geek with author dreams if there had been nothing wrong with my leg? Or would I be a world famous dancer and model with posters in half the male population's bedrooms? Could anyone say that the two are the same person? And would my leg problem be the "defining" in my life, if we knew for a fact that the other path would have happen had it not been? Since there's so many other "defining" moments. Had I not gone to school away from home at 16 I might not have failed and lost confidence, but I might also have withered into a voiceless mouse in a corner without the support and inspiration of the people I met there. Or, everything might have gone exactly the same. So who can say which choices actually made a difference in our lives, and which don't. Maybe the big choices don't really matter, and some random small ones end up dictating our lives.

Well, the choice to go to this seminar will probably not lead to any life-defining changes. Unless I meet the most violently handsome Korean guy with whom I elope and raise sixteen babies, or a giant robot decide to invade Stockholm just tomorrow and beam me up into space. While those two would certainly be fun, it's the tiny little realistic "what-if"s that really scare/excite me. Like, what if I meet someone who is actually a younger sibling of mine, adopted away as I was, and we would possibly never know.

You know, thinking about that, any younger adopted Korean could be a sibling. Okay, so if that violently handsome Korean guy is not older than me, then I'll say goodbye and thanks for the fish. Do not want to go near that possibility, especially with a prospect of sixteen babies.

Pew Pew

I drew something at last! The name is not a thanks for inspiration ;) it's a total coincidence!

Candy Cane Sheep!

Saw half a dozen newly sheared sheep on the way back to town. They were rubbing their sides against a red-painted barn, maybe it itches when the new fur grows, and the color rubbed off on them. They looked like candy canes!

Didn't really want to stop to take a picture, wanted to get Loki home as fast as possible, he's cooperative but rather stressed about riding the car. Or maybe it's just the fact that he's locked in a small box for four and a half hours after twelve hours without food and eight without water.

Sounds and letters

I wanted to ask something. I found a band logo today for a korean band that pronounced their name as "beast" but the logo was "B2ST". I spent a ridiculous amount of time staring at it trying to make sense of it, turning it this way and that, distorting "two", but my puzzlement only grew. Until my dear friend pointed out that the 2 could be in the band's native language. I'd already thought about that but dismissed it because two in korean is "set" and in their chinese loan numbers "ii".
When she said it though, I realized that "ii" and "ea" in beast probably is the same sound. I say probably, because in my head, it's not. If you recorded me saying the two sounds, I realize that I'm very unlikely to hear any difference myself, but would you ask me when I'm saying it, I'd swear that I'm saying two different things. In my head, when I say or hear "beast" there is clearly both an "e" and an "a" in there. I feel them... it's not quite seeing and not quite hearing.
This probably helps me with spelling, because I would also claim that I can "hear" how a word is spelled (probably it's just obscure grammatical rules that I've somehow absorbed subconsciously, and I'll claim the same even if I spelled it wrong the first time and then learned the right). But it does confuse me when it comes to word-plays like the band name.

So the question is, do you too?

Learning a new language

i -- 1. (particle after subject or object word) 2. this 3. (particle after verb or adjective to make adverb) 4. tooth, teeth 5. two, 2 (hanja) 6. lice 7. person (particle after younger/same age person's name) 8. with 9. ear 10. different


do -- 1. (particle after noun to add meaning of 'as well', 'too') 2. district, province 3. principle, doctrine 4. drawing, picture 5. degree (angle or temperature) 6. (particle after word to add meaning of 'but, however') 7. group of people 8. island

si -- 1. hour, time, o'clock 2. (particle in verb to add politeness) 3. (particle in verb to make polite request) 4. city, town 5. (particle in noun to add meaning of 'in-law') 6. poem 7. to see (hanja)

:<

Melodies

Saw a black cat trotting along the road yesterday, carrying a... uh, [sork] so big that the tail was dragging on the ground, it was at least twice the size of the cat's head. Show off.

Listening to Korean radio through shoutcast.com. Partly because normal radio is boring, partly because I like music where I don't understand the words because then I don't get ticked off at stupid lyrics, and partly because listening to it passively teaches me the sounds and melodies of the language. It's also cool to have a normal music radio channel that plays *only* songs in the native language. How many Swedish-exclusive music channels are there? (Not that I'd listen to them.) I've listened to French radio before, but a lot of the music is the same as ours and in English. While it's cool to have like a "universal" language between European countries, I guess that native languages get sidelined. I'm usually not so opposed to that, but it's a tragedy when it comes to music, really. Every language is like it's own instrument. Ever listen to duets by people from Sweden/Norway/Denmark? Chorusing together but in their own language, it sounds awesome.

So if every language is it's own instrument, what instrument would that be? Like, Norwegian would be the ukulele to the Swedish guitar, Italian would be drums and Russian, I think, like one of those stringed square things that lie down and you can play chords on... not the Asian ones, darn it what are they called...

Cuddling with cat > [insert activity here]

Anyone can understand programming, just look at this:

public class Cat extends Pet {

public void getAttention(mistress) {

if(attention==false){
try{
sitOnKeyboard();
if(attention==true)
break;
pokeObject(breakable);
if(attention==true)
break;
chewOnCables();
if(attention==true)
break;
} catch (OverProvocationException op) {
runAwayHide();
}
}

}

public void main(String[] args) {
Cat.getAttention(me);
if(attention==true) {
purr();
}
}

}

beta test

EDIT: Graphical UI now implemented, it was many easier than I thought. And the "bunny" type will work now, and this time I mean it :P The window looks kinda funny... because well, it was easy enough to make it work, but to make it look like I wanted... whole other story./EDIT


I've been playing around with java and have managed to generate something that might work, so now I'd like to see if it really is something to bounce about like a bunny over.

You'll find it here.

I'd love it if some people would like to try the program so I can get some beta test results :) For windows it should be just double-clicking the Evolution.jar file. For Linux, either double click it, but if that just opens a folder you open terminal and go to the file's locaton and write "java -jar Evolution.jar". For mac I have no idea :p

Oh and you need JRE but you should already or I'll be a fat surprisedcat. Otherwise just get it, you'll need it for other things.

Hello my name is...

I've been sitting here writing for like 40 min. I write something, and then censor it, and write something else, and censor it. It's a bunch of whining, really. Maybe it's just therapeutic to write it down. It's funny how little of what I think that I actually tell people. I mean, it's probably the same for everyone. I guess. How would I know? :p Maybe I should say, it's lucky how little of what I think that I actually tell people.

I censor everything that comes out. Everything, to varying degrees but still. I figure that also is the same for everyone, but I don't know that either. Some people really seem to say what they think, but I guess if you think fairly ok things then that's ok. Huh. That right there is another of my quirks. When I say things about people I envy or admire (it's the same thing though right?) it always comes out sounding like an insult, so I usually censor that. It's not an insult. Let me try again. If you think good things, then it's ok. Nuh, still kinda sounds like an insult. Like a pat on the head :<

The essence of my whiny mood lies in a few things: being stuck here with my family for too long (I need my independence dammit!), not having my computer (this made me realize how dependent I've gotten on it for social stuff), and my leg and back being crappily crappy and it bringing around some realizations. Like that if I have kids, I won't be able to run around and play with them, or catch them if they wander into the middle of the road. But I think what really brought this bout of depression down was that some people went to an amusement park, and I thought, well crap I would have wanted to come, and that funny guy Voice of Reason said, "No, you don't, because you can't walk for shit and after an hour you'd be sitting on a park bench with a hurting back and hurting ankle and a fake smile as they walked away from you to do something fun, or much worse were stuck sitting there with you". And then it turned into a merry little garden party when old buddy Who Do You Think You Are popped out to cheer me up saying, "Oh what, are you crying now? Don't be such a wimp, there's so many people so much worse off than you."

Oh good. This time I could write it with a bit of humor instead of deep black emo-ness. Therapy session over.

Conscience

Buying The Witcher 2 from www.gog.com gives pretty much the full amount paid directly to the creators of the game, as far as I've understood. It's 49.99€ for the digital download, where some shit like maps and making-of videos come included. Bear with me, this isn't a commercial, nor a review. It's gotten pretty decent reviews, packs quite a long playtime in a well thought-out world, and comes from the company that made the first The Witcher. They were a fairly unknown Polish group, who produced one of the best RPG's of its time. GoG also recognizes that because of laws and taxes and all that funky stuff, the European digital download costs 16$ more than the US, so they give you games from their store to the same value. The Witcher team also makes a point of trusting their players, choosing to believe that if their product is good it will stand for itself: The Witcher 2, like the first, comes without any DRM. No, this is not a request for them to have my babies.

So what is it? It's a question: If I hypothetically said that I know a site that is 100% reliable and legal but possibly much less ethical (in how they acquire what they sell, but I don't know, I don't know if anyone knows), that sells The Witcher 2 for a little more than 16€, but where it's very doubtful if the developers get very much, if anything at all... how is that different from torrenting it for free? Because it feels different. If this was any other game I would probably buy it cheap, but why? Have they successfully guilt-tripped me into buying their game from being too nice? I'm extremely curious how the game sales are. Is the DRM-free way the way to go to win the war against pirating, not because you defeat the hackers, but because you win the players hearts and loyalty? Or is it the eyes full of hope of a catholic sheep on its way into the wolf's den?

Does a product that is good ever stand on its own?

A regular day's concerns

"If you stick to the roads, you´ll meet less mosquitos, just like in World of Warcraft."

I was playing The World Ends With You today, where there´s a bonus boss that´s insanely difficult because of one single thing; he stomps the ground all the time which interrupts casting healing and shields, which I´ve been relying on a lot. I was staring at my Nintendo DS wondering how on Earth I would be able to kill it, and thought, "but hey, Chingling, my pokémon, is immune to ground moves".

>.>

In other news, Loki now knows two tricks: high 5, and uh, licking my hand, well it´s a trick because he does it on cue. I´m sorry, three tricks, the third being leaving live mice all around the apartment. Yesterday I found one right inside the door and anther severely bleeding beneath my suitcase. I´m a little worried that he´s put a dead one behind the stove because something smells -.- His free-roaming privileges have been revoked.

air

I can totally see why people like strangulation sex. Air is pretty fucking great to have.

It's Cut Your Own Hair Day!

It doesn't take guts, just the determination to get past the first steps.

There's the "Stop staring at the mirror and pick up the scissors" phase. Now that I've done it a couple of time I spend a very short moment there, compared to the agonizing first time.

Then comes the "Maybe I should've planned this before I started" phase. Unless you're an organized, sensible person, and not like me who, in the case of haircutting, is all enthusiasm and no thought.

Closely after this comes the "Oh but this works, this is kinda fun and easy" phase. This is the point you want to get to. If you chicken out before this, then you didn't give it a proper chance. This is also where your grand plans completely take over your head and you start cutting like Edward Scissorhands, and your sensible self clasps its hands and pray to preferred divinity that the result will be something you want.

The funny thing is that after this point, you kinda stop looking at yourself and what you're doing until you're done. When you think you're done, you reach the "Hey this is alright... oh my god what have I done I'm ugly forever"-phase. Depending on how dramatic your haircut is, this phase's graveness varies, and don't worry it's just a reaction to the change. I cut seldom but a lot, so I tend to have a big inner psychotic break over what I think is the disaster of a lifetime, before I pull myself together into the "I can fix this" phase.

In this phase you poke things, cut maybe a hair here or there, and take the time you spend on silly pointless minor adjustments to get used to your new look. It works as a transition into the best phase of all, the "Oh hey, I'm fucking hawt... dude I'm so awesome"-phase. For some reason, between the panic phase and this phase, although you haven't really changed anything, suddenly it's your vision come to life that's staring at you from the mirror. Now enjoy this phase. For a little, precious while you're the catwalk queen, the rock star, the southern prince or oriental princess.

Then you realize that it's just hair, and you look just like usual, with shorter hair. Congratulations. You're done.

If anyone's a bit more serious, here's a couple of tips that work for me:

1. Think of it like a sculpture. The shapes and lines you want. And remember there's some limitations like where your hair likes to part of itself, respect those. Hair has a tendency to fall in the same places, so if you want a v shape, just cut a v shape.
2. If you want something done in the back that requires any form of precision, don't do it. Ask a brave friend or pay up.
3. Don't cut your hair while it's wet. I don't know if cutting it wet might be better for the hair or something, but I leave the whole "let's guess what happens when it dries" up to professionals. I actually like to fix the hair up before I cut it, because then I see exactly how it'll be.
4. Remember that it's easier to cut a little at a time, than try to paste it back on! :) Let it take some time. 
5. Don't be a nitpick. Hair consists of a myriad of straws, it's not a piece of wood you can carve. It'll move, it'll grow. You can definitively make it look good, and shape it as you want, but chill. If you wanted perfectionism you should've gone to hairdresser school. Or opened that fat wallet.
6. Give it a week. For some reason, it takes a few days for the hair to settle (or maybe it's your head that needs to settle) and you'll fine some straws here and there that you missed, and even if you were initially disappointed you might look at it a different way.

Alright buds, cya out there! How did my hair turn out? Well... it's shorter than it's ever been ;) and I'm SO HOT! AND SO AWESOME! Okay so maybe I haven't finished the last phase yet...

Bouncing

I wake up to the sound of Loki bouncing about the carpet. I recognize that pattern of sound very well. It's the sound of a cat bouncing around captured prey, most likely still alive. So I know the truth long before I actually see it. There is a live mouse on my carpet. For the time being it's corralled in one spot by a happy, bouncing cat.

My first plan is to stick it in the bathroom, cat, mouse and all and just go back to sleep. Ignorance is bliss. But the more awake I get, the more I realize it's not a terrific plan. So after chasing cat and mouse around the apartment for a good while I gather the courage to capture it (mice can bite and give diseases, alright!). With a plastic bag between my hand and a tiny little warm, breathing mouse, I realize that I, I indeed, I have a live mouse in my hand, how incredibly cool I am to pick it up. (No I don't know why, it's four in the morning damn it.) So I proudly toss it out, and Loki runs after, picks it up, and jumps back in the window.

-.-'

Another circle chase, I close the window, and he jumps right into the glass. Well sorry, cat. We have a communication issue. I'd rather not have a mouse gnawing on my computer cables. And mom would probably not want mouse blood on the carpet. If you ate it in the bathroom I could clean it up easy, but I can't tell you that, can I.

I did learn something about myself. When the damned thing ran right over my feet, I was too terrified by the absolutely disgusting idea of stepping on it to actually freak out and jump away.

At least my first instinct wasn't to take a picture. That's the sign of blog-/facebook brain damage.

Who do you think you are?

I realized something while I wrote that comment on the post below.

"Who do you think you are?" that voice in my head said. "Do you really think you can come to a better answer, that you can come closer to god, than a hundred generations of millions of Christians or Muslims or whatever. Scholars and priests, kings and peasants. Who do you think you are to believe yourself above them?"

I don't know. I've never thought about it that way, and now that I did, it feels a little embarrassing. Who do I think I am? Isn't it true, aren't I trying to be better than every thinking human before me and around me? It makes my humble Swedish upbringing cringe where it's stored in the basic structures of my brain, but the truth, while difficult to admit, is simple. Yes. I do think I can. My world revolves around me. I am my own god, and my world will live and die with me. I do believe to the fullest of my heart that I have as much ability and right to claim I know my god, to claim my own path to faith, as any man or woman who as ever walked on Earth and any that will ever live.

And in the same way, I also believe it is the right and duty of every human to claim their own path to faith, to belief and religion. Which is why, I realize, organized religion infuriates me. And in the same way, the mindlessness with which people treat other's belief infuriates me to the same degree. Of course I don't want to sing psalms in church, that would be lying. Lying at another's place of worship. If there was a corresponding way to desecrate my own faith, I would want to kill the one who did. Someone said "religion lies in the hearts of men", if I don't remember incorrectly. And that is exactly it. Tradition and ceremony might serve other purposes, but faith, actual faith, has it's own shelf. And it is holy, too holy for organizations and institutions.

prayer

At the end of a long drive, the clouds were rather peculiar. Straight ahead, far far away it looked like some odd thing in the air. My mind couldn't decide what it was - a demon, an alien spaceship - but my first thought was "finally!". To my inner eye I saw war and magic, death and heroism. Then I realized it was an odd cloud, radically different than the surrounding ones but a cloud nonetheless. And I wondered, finally what? Finally war? Finally death? But it seems my naive heart would rather suffer those things to get something more.

Also, another baptism for me, and when I was sitting there I was for a moment tempted into the lull of organized religion. Then almost like a voice saying to me: it's your immortal soul you gamble with, you think you'd be shown mercy for chosing what everyone else believe because you're afraid to be wrong?

Ladies in capes

Going through my stash and found a couple of pictures I saved for being epic and awesome, and that should be shared. However by now I don't remember where they originally came from, so... don't sue me please, kthxbai.

First: one of you have probably given me this to begin with. It's an excellent start.

Then a couple of awesome avatars from forums... again, sorry, I can't credit because I don't know! Tell me if you know, and I will. Just don't kill my cat.

(By the way, Blogger doesn't handle pictures very well. EDIT: previewing this tells me that Blogger absolutely fucking sucks at handling pictures. I tried to get them all in one row and this is the best I could do, after a lot of clicking and dragging and bashing the keyboard in frustration.)

This, however, is the best avatar I've ever seen.

 

And finally, the image that changed my view of those annoying bathroom signs that assume all women wear skirts:

Ta mates!

Bloody Bird

The silliest things can trigger a big philosophical discussion inside confused heads like mine. I found a newborn baby bird on my balcony today, it must have fallen out of a nest somewhere and was lying there just breathing. Ugly as fuck, but the whole "it's a baby" instinct was triggered nonetheless and my first thought was to protect it from the cat and dog, and find it something to eat. Well, then I realized I can't bloody well raise a baby bird. Neither do I want to. So I was caught in no-man's-land between instincts, the other instinct being "get this crap off my property". Also, birds abandon their babies if they fall out of the nest, as far as I know. Then my roomie reminded me of something important, when I texted her the issue. It's a bird. A bloody 4AM tweeter. Beneath that innocent ugly exterior beats the evil little heart of a flappy crapper. I have at several occasions expressed that their only good trait is eating insects. There is only one type of bird I don't actively dislike, and that's because my shallowness happens to override my bird-dislike - I find it pretty:

The philosophical discussion was: compassion. Is it a trait of a superior race to express compassion towards  even a race we generally dislike? Are we compassionate towards other races because we can afford to be? If humanity as a race had to fight for survival, then would we show a great deal less compassion for species that could be a threat to us? Compassion is somehow something we take very much for granted. Is it a part of being human? Or a part of being Universally Good? Can we really expect that if we'd encounter extraterrestial beings, that they'd have the same traits as we do? That they'd give a damned? Well... it's when I hit aliens that I decided to leave the discussion.

The turnout was that I, after much battling with myself, reached the conclusion that I can't express disapproval of birds and then not kill a baby bird for the single reason that it's a baby. That'd make me a hypocrite. Was it an adult bird I wouldn't think twice. Also I believe my cat is my partner and not my captive and slave and want him to live according to his feline instincts as far as possible - we should both compromise to coexist. So. I opened the door for the cat, with a sense of satisfaction with my conclusions.

Loki promptly picked up the bird and ran in and put it under my chair. No! That's one compromise I will not make! Out!

Philosophical corner 942

So here's what I figure happens when you die: see, that moment when you're born, I imagine inside the baby's head is going on something of a panic attack screaming "put me back in right this instant you crazy bastards!", and then we get used to being outside. Well, dying must be like being put back in. Coming home. I believe (I have no scientific proof, any logic reasoning, and need neither) that when people die their "life energy", what some would call "soul" although energy is more appropriate I think, returns to the world. So it must be like a sigh of relief, I imagine. Being dissolved from this limiting form and return to the bigger One Whole (the Mothership!). I imagine it would be like a dolphin swimming with its family in free waters rich of fish, gliding through the universe, or like being a stream in the ocean free of thought or feeling.

So, essentially, to me, death will be good. I'm telling you because this belief might influence what I'll say next: I'm really fucking curious of what death is. I really look forward to dying because I'll find out. Whatever it is, I won't be disappointed, I just really really really want to know. So immortality, not for me, unless I somehow find out without dying that death really sucks, like if there's a psychotic version of hell or something.

And on to the next Philosophical Mumbo Jumbo: I asked myself, if I found out that my life would end tomorrow, what would I do? If I had a week or a month, I'd spend all my money and go see a concert, I'd go find my biological parents, I'd save kittens, I'd tell everyone how exactly I felt about them. But one day? The first ting I thought was: I'd do exactly what I do every day. I'd just keep doing what I'm doing, and then I'd die. And that would be fine. So although I bitch and whine (especially to myself), apparently I'm rather satisfied with my life.

Then I asked myself another question: what would I do if I found out that tomorrow my life will begin? Hm? What would you do?

Progress, at last!

I finished a subject! At the third try! T.T I'm so happy I could cry. Scream and cry and roll around on the ground. One down, three to go! School this term has not been at the top of my accomplishments...

In other news, what does one wear to a baptism? I constantly find myself out of "fancy clothes" that properly fit into the conservative world of old traditional ceremonies. Probably because I think regular or random clothes are so much more fun and awesome and pretty than fancy clothes. Fancy clothes, to reach any level of awesomeness, require a ton of accessories and fancying up hair and stuff. And who cba buying and fixing all that for an awkward ceremony that you go to a handful of times in your life and that you don't believe in? Bleh. Fancy clothes make me feel like a Christian ajumma (Korean middle-aged-to-old woman) who emigrated to the conservative part of the US and never hangs out with anything other than other ajummas in small wooden churches to complain about their modern children. And they feel like I'm wrapped in saran wrap (= gladpack), figuratively speaking. I'd need a very particular kind of fancy clothes, that work with both my own style and my unwillingness to wear fancy clothes, and with the demands of my peers and circumstances (read: family and their friends). Fat chance of ever finding that.

I need a suit. A simple, mildly feminine, light but not peach suit, maybe white. Pants, not skirt. Yeah. Where to find those? Gah, they probably cost a ton...

Kittyproof!

Most of my friends don't have pets, but those who have might recognize the situation of returning to your computer to find your darling cat have posted "+666" on facebook, or watching a VLC movie when cat pushes a few keyboard commands and speeds the sound up by 200%. Easy enough fixes, but also annoying, and windows has no built-in keyboard lock. So, I found a tiny program to do it for me, it's called Kid-Key-Lock. Workes very well with Launchy, and it's free. With a alt+space, k and enter my keyboard and mouse are locked, and with a password sequence of keys that you can choose - in this case the perpetrator's name (that's the cat) - it is unlocked. You can choose to let it display the password while locked if you're just trying to block small children and pets, or if you have extremely bad short term memory.

There is also a shareware version called Pro-Key-Lock where you can customize exactly which keys and combinations of both keyboard and mouse to lock. Probably useful for someone.

Carved into my heart

I have two fangirl modes: 1) DBSK / JYJ / really it's Jaejoong but the other guys are ok. 2) Deadpool. Lately it's been Deadpool mode. Thus this.

I want a Deadpool tattoo! I've been thinking about it for years, but I can't design tattoos, I suck at that. Symbols and patterns, I'm terrible at it. And I really want tattoos that are made to be on a body, not just take a picture and slap it on my arm. It has to look good where it is. Love those types of tattoos where it looks like you've branded something in, or folded back skin to show bone, or stuff like that.

The round Deadpool symbol is my best bet.

 

As if it's freshly cut into my skin perhaps? This one kinda needs to be in color, even if I'm against color tattoos in general. Or maybe like a stamp with "approved Deadpool fangirl" around it or something xD Maybe I wouldn't mind a real picture in this case...

but pictures, just plain pictures, should be on flat surfaces like the back, and I wanna save that for something extraordinarily special, if I'd find the perfect tattoo one day. I kinda want this under the collar bone, either left or right.

Aside from that, tattoos I want someday are the Iceye symbol:

kinda like this, or just the stylized one, maybe inside of my wrist,

and something to symbolize the other things carved into my heart, like the White, maybe just his name on my ankle or something... Jaejoong has a while to go before I'm that certain of myself. Another year and a half, if my feelings haven't changed, I think he's tattoo worthy.

And finally, what gave this blog its name, the Lifestream, as a symbol of a philosophical idea that shaped so much of me. Maybe curling up my side or my left arm. If I ever get round to that, it's rather extensive.

On that note, since growing up with superheroes have certainly shaped my way of thinking, I should have the Marvel brand on my left shoulder or high on my back, like a tag.

Hmm.

Nitpicks will notice I'm leaving out family and friends here. If it ever will happen, it won't happen 'til you're dead, peops.

Static Electricity Cat meets Harley the Circling Dog

And so there was dog. Cat and dog seems to get along rather well. Cat is immensely, painfully, undeniably curious. If there wasn't for that pesky instinct that says that living creatures six times your own size should be held at sensible distance, cat would be prodding dog's stomach by now, sitting on top of it. But there is that instinct, and so there's a lot of bipolar hissing-followed-by-sneaking-closer going on. Dog is fascinating, but also clearly a latent psychopath, acting nice but possibly waiting to chomp cat's head off. Dog, meanwhile, is mostly confused. Dog tries to stay out of cat's way because obviously the hissing, clawed thing has mental issues, but doesn't have all that much space to maneuver. Bone is a lot better, dog thinks. Bones are simple. Chew.

Comic Opinions: Deadpool #13-22

Deadpool: X marks the spot and Deadpool: Monkey Business collects Deadpool #13-22, and are the first steps of my "let's be a serious comic geek and not a leech and start buying good shit" campaign. For safety I will not divulge how I got to read #1-12. It's a personal campaign, of course, worry not, I'm not going to go righteous bitch on you.

I loved the earlier Deadpool series by Priest and Simone, especially the one that connected with the Agent X series, and I was at first unconvinced by the new writer mr. Daniel Way and the "inner voices" (Deadpool has two more or less consistent "extra selves" that he has conversations with). Although I found Deadpool's role in Secret Invasion (a big, global "Event" in Marvel Universe) to be brilliant and in a way properly introducing him into the big boy game by throwing him in with Norman Osborn, anyone can shoot a pony once, and the inner voices deal was still bothering me.

I've always felt that the difficulty in writing Deadpool has been to balance his good-vs-evil. Insanity implies randomness, and randomness doesn't know good or evil; it hardly knows consequence. How to get a coherent character with interesting storylines with that in mind? It's a deadly balance act.

I'd say that Way has now proven his pony-shooting abilities to me with these two collections. X Marks The Spot has Deadpool out to become a pirate, and through a series of events has him helping rather than hurting the islands he set out to rob. What follows next is what impressed me most; a sort of looking-glass peek into a darker part of Deadpool that no one else seems to have paid any attention; namely, immortality itself could serve to drive a man insane, so what will a man do with it who is already insane? This philosophical bout with himself brings him to the fever-dazed conclusion that he'd rather be a hero, and he makes an attempt at becoming an X-Man. The story from there is a lot more complex than one first realizes, and the balance act can be summed up with one of the lines from the book: "He may be insane, but I'm starting to think he may not be crazy".

Monkey Business picks the story right up as Deadpool continues on to New York to try and soak up some hero-moves from Spider-Man, and suddenly finds himself on the best seat of the house as Spider-Man has to protect him from a mercenary-hunting monkey hitman. Again, Deadpool proves himself as much a hallucinating lunatic as a man with a plan, turning Spider-Man's life upside down in the process. The writing impressed me still, in this case because it is skillfully focused on Deadpool. What Spider-Man thinks about the whole thing can most often only be read from what he says and does, so as a reader I get the feeling of watching the frustrated hero rub his forehead through a camera stuck on Deadpool's suit, that bounces a little as Deadpool chuckles to himself.

The art is good in the two "main" stories here, the X-Men and Spider-Man stories. As for the pirate story as well as a short extra as Deadpool leaves New York, they have more looney cartooney or caricature style drawings. I can appreciate different styles of drawing, I think, but especially in the case of Deadpool I'm for a more "realistic" style because although he himself is like an mad bugs bunny, he is real in the Marvel Universe, he is in fact brutally real as many who have tasted his bullets have had to realize. A conversation with him should perhaps never be taken literally, but he as a force, an immortal man with amazing weapon skills, should always be taken very, very seriously, and that is the tragedy and the comedy. A cartooney style marginalizes the violence he does upon others, but that is a part of what makes the character complex and fascinating. Reading Deadpool should always bring along a tint of disgust, a wince where you go "what the HELL man" as he cracks a joke and a skull at the same time; just seeing him as a funny guy does not embrace all that the character is.

I always feel like I walk away from reading Deadpool having learned something subtle and difficult to pinpoint, which is also part of the charm. As when Deadpool spared Killbrew's life in the earlier series, I now await Way's followup with hesitant enthusiasm. Deadpool's chase for heroism allows a bit of creative ballet on the delicate balance of good and evil, now I can only cross my fingers and hope Way doesn't overstep and break a toe.

Spider-Man goes, as usual, for the anvil-to-the-head kind of life lessons: "It's always easy being what you are... what's hard is being what you want to be."