Behold the Majesty of The Emperor’s Jaws!

Rather than spend my weekend doing anything constructive, I’ve wasted several hours on another bit of stupid 40k related javascripting – this time a random Space Marine Chapter name generator. This was inspired by a mention on 40k Radio of one that used to exist on the Games Workshop site, but was apparently taken down after it spat out the suggestion “Flesh Swords”.

My one can theoretically come up with “Flesh Swords”, but I haven’t seen it yet. It has come up with some quite entertaining ones though, such as the Noise Punishers (the Chapter you call when the Tau next door are having a party at 2:00am), the Reclaimers of Hammers (for when the Necrons down the street won’t give back your tools), the Mantis Exsanguinators (for problems in the garden), the Supplicators of Angron (I don’t think they got very far), the oddly emphatic Tiger Tigers, and my absolute favorite (so far) the Hand Gauntlets. It can also however produce perfectly sane suggestions such as the Lunar Wardens or the Black Purgators, so it may have some value.

I’ve also rigged up a sun projector for my telescope out of a coat hanger, a plastic plate, the cap from a deodorant can, some wire and some duct tape, in anticipation of the Transit of Venus on Wednesday. I’m taking the day off work and the plan is to head up to Kings Park to observe. They’re predicting clouds, but I live in hope.

Oh, and I also made soup. Hooray!

Reading the Runes

Lego is releasing models for the Lord of the Rings. This is a combination of two of my favourite things, and is hence awesome! 🙂

There’s one thing that’s bothering me though. One of the panels in the Mines of Moria set is decorated with text written in the cirth…The Mines of Moria

Cool, no? Except that I can’t for the life of me figure out what it’s meant to say.

If my interpretation is correct, it appears to read ndigwbndio pdy eobo.

I have no idea what this means.

So, am I using the wrong mode? Is it written in Khuzdul, or Sindarin? Or maybe Maori or Danish? Or is it just decorative gibberish? I have absolutely no idea, and it’s going to drive me nuts until I figure it out.

Later: Bah! It’s not the Cirth, it’s standard Futhark and says “Diordie was here”. Bastards! ;D

Warblings of a Diseased Brain

Last week I was sitting at the Morley bus station (as you do), and – not having anything to read while waiting for my bus – my brain was wandering (as it does) down highways and byways of the strange, mysterious and downright stupid.

By far the most stupid of these trackways was speculation on what would happen if Games Workshop signed a promotional deal with A Large, Unnamed Fast Food Company™  (ALUFFC™ for short) and started handing out snap together Space Marine models along with burgers.

Think about the possibilities! All the overweight nerd children who could be lured into the hobby by a single model with some cheap chapter stickers and a collectable Primarch information card! All the burgers that would be bought by fanatical GW fans desperate to get their hands on the exclusive burger-deal-only Space Marine model! The money would just roll in on both sides!

But best of all, ALUFFCâ„¢ could launch up to 21 new meal deals based on the Emperor and his Primarchs! For instance…

The Emperor: An oversized burger with the lot – guaranteed to keep you immobile on the “Golden Throne” for what seems like millenia.
The Guilliman: ‘Blue’ beef with extra cheese.
The Fulgrim: Wagyu beef, Italian lettuce, brie and artisanal hand cut fries.
The Angron: Three beef patties, spicy pickles and ‘extreme’ chilli sauce.
The Sanguinius: Rare beef with a side of wings.
The Perturabo: A pretty standard burger, but you have to eat your way through a massive breastwork of fries to get to it.
The Mortarion: Extra onions, limberger cheese, garlic sauce and underdone meat (for the thrillseeker not afraid of intestinal parasites).
The Horus: Flame grilled beef on a wholemeal bun with spicy ‘heresy’ sauce.
The Alpharius: You never know what they’ll serve you, but there’s two of it.

The possibilities are endless!

(I’ll shut up now ;))

Nextwave

Finally got around to reading Nextwave: Agents of H.A.T.E. over the weekend. My opinion? One of the funniest things I’ve read in ages.

For those unfamiliar, Nextwave is Warren Ellis’s deconstruction of modern super hero comics. He describes it himself thusly…

“It’s an absolute distillation of the superhero genre. No plot lines, characters, emotions, nothing whatsoever. It’s people posing in the street for no good reason. It is people getting kicked, and then exploding. It is a pure comic book, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. And afterwards, they will explode.”

He forgets to add that it’s freaking hilarious.

Having read something freaking hilarious it’s very tempting to expound on the bits that were particularly freaking hilarious.  I’m not going to do that, since not encountering them in context would spoil the jokes. But I will mention the following things…

Purple underpants
Rocket Submarines
The French
Tabby’s Mindlessness
Letters that don’t stand for things
The big bad’s intestinal problems
The entire existence of the Captain

Track it down and read it people. You won’t be disappointed.

PS: The book managed to inflict a bit of a crush on Tabby on me. There’s something about an insanely stupid woman that makes me go all masculine and protective – which is ridiculous because I’d most likely want to throttle myself after spending ten minutes with one 🙂

More of this Rubbish…

There are a lot of mysteries in the 40k universe. Exactly who is the Emperor? How tall is an Imperator Titan? Who would win if Ursakar E. Creed played chess against Eldrad Farseer? Exactly what is a true Hufflepuff anyway? But there is one riddle that out-puzzles all of these combined. How do you pronounce Roboute Guilliman?

This a mystery that has tormented the 40k fandom ever since those long ago days when we first learnt of the Primarchs. But today, I can provide you with an answer. Behold! How to Pronounce Roboute Guilliman.

I trust that answers all of your questions.

If you still can’t get enough hot Primarch action, you might like to check out this infographic that I whipped up over the weekend…

Primarchs of the Imperium

All the basic info on the Emperor’s twenty genetically-engineered supermen in one handy location!

That’s it. Gotta go do the washing up now.

PS: Techno-Viking, shorter than you think but larger than you imagine, Eldrad until he realises his rooks have been replaced with Baneblades, what the hell is a Hufflepuff!?

Norrilund

Were it not a violation of God’s law I’d marry this map…

Map of Norrilund (Big PDF file Warning!)

It’s a genius steampunk remix of London by one “Handsome Rob” and is so rich in detail and language that it feels like somewhere you could actually visit. If I could produce just one conworld artifact as good as this, I’d die a happy man.

Good show sir! Jolly good show!

Ursarkar E. Creed’s Favourite Song

Kell on the other hand can’t stand it…

(With profound apologies to Pig with the Face of a Boy)

I had a little stormbolter,
He was my only friend,
I took him to the holoshow,
And loved him ’till the end,

I had a little barking toad,
On my windowsill,
And he ate all the flies,
That came in my room,

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
Or I’ll have to cut your head off, with a blunt chainsword,

I had a little plasma gun, I shot it at a Tau,
I fired off six shots and I burnt my hand on the grip,
I stole a Sister’s laud-hailer and used it to do this,
CREEEEEEED!!!
But then a Necron broke it so I damaged all his face,

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
Or I’ll have to wipe the remnants of your insides off my face,

Please don’t tread on my little barking toad,
He’s my only, only friend in the whole wide world,
He was little, and green, and he kept me free from flies,
Until someone trod on him, and he exploded, destroying everything for a radius of approximately one kilometre,
And it was very, very sad,

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
How would you like it if I stole your cogigtator?
And I gave it to an Eldar in exchange for spirit stones?

Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
He’s my only friend in the whole wide world,
Please don’t tread on my stormbolter,
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,
Ha! ha! ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,
Ha! ha! ha ha ha!
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA,
Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh,

Good!

Introducing Corvus Jyones

Introducing Corvus Jyones

I’ve recently – for my sins – become involved with a play-by-post role playing game on one of the forums I frequent. It’s a science fiction game and we had to write a passage to introduce our characters. This is mine, introducing Corvus Jyones, maverick engineer…

(Note: Contains adult language)

Corvus Jyones, recently engaged engineer of the freighter Gaunt’s Promise was finalising the post-touchdown system checks when the Captain entered the engine room.

“Corvus, have you got a minute?”

“Sure thing Cap!” Corvus sharply saluted and put down his clipboard.

The Captain awkwardly returned the salute “Look, there’s no easy way to say this. You’re a great engineer and you’ve kept the ship running like a dream, but the crew have had a meeting, and they’ve decided – well – they’ve decided that they don’t want you on the next trip. Or any trip, actually.”

“You’re firing me?”

“I’m sorry Corvus”

Jyones turned away. He picked up his clipboard, then put it back down. He picked it up again, turned it around a few times, and put it down again. He picked it up and turned back to the Captain.

“Is it the razor thing?”

“Partially…”

“I told him, don’t use it for more than two minutes straight or it’ll overheat”

“It exploded!”

“Technically they’re the same same thing…”

“It’s also the food”

“I needed parts to fix the razor”

“And they had to come from the refrigeration system?”

“Hey, who’s the engineer here? I made sure there were plenty of non-perishables…”

“Doctor Goodhealth’s Complete Nutrition Paste?”

“Nothing wrong with nutrition paste! It’s nutritious! And delicious!”

“The crew beg to differ. Look, just leave without a fuss, please?”

“At least let me get my stuff”

“Your boiler suits? They’re out on the tarmac.”

“What? How you can you treat them like that? The boiler suit is pinnacle of human sartorial development!”

“So you keep insisting…”

“So, that’s it? Six months of loyal service and all because of one minor, disfiguring explosion I’m cast adrift into an uncaring galaxy without so much as a penny to my name?”

“You were paid yesterday”

“And how do you know I haven’t spent it all on comic slates and moon pies?”

“You haven’t been off the ship yet!”

“I could have been. You don’t know everything I do!”

The Captain sighed heavily and buried his face in his hands,

“Corvus…”

“Can I at least say goodbye to the crew?”

“They’ve already said all they want to say”

“When?”

“All over your boiler suits”

Fuckers

“Just, go. Please.”

Corvus set down the clipboard.

“All right, if that’s the way it’s got to be. But I’m not going to go quietly!” He lunged for the nearby intercom panel, mashing the ‘All Channels’ button with his fist.

I’M A FARMER DADDY!! I’M A FARMER!! DADDY, I’M A FARMER!!

GIVE ME THAT YOU INSANE BASTARD!

I’M A FARMER!! I’M A- GET OFF! GET! Oh fuck it, have it your way…”

Five minutes later Corvus Jyones stood alone on the spaceport tarmac – except for a pile of soiled boiler suits. The lights of the colony beckoned, promising excitement, adventure and (hopefully) dry cleaning.

THE WILL OF THE GODS

You could turn up and ambush me I suppose. Please don’t 😀

Catching up with the guys this weekend at that Brazilian barbeque place. Naturally I could not send out the details in any normal fashion, no…

REJOICE AND BE GLAD ALL YE PEOPLES OF THE MEATOSPHERE!
FOR THE DATE AND TIME ARE SET FOR THE FESTIVAL OF MEAT!
YE WHO EAT OF FLESH ARE SUMMONED TO A TABLE FOR FOUR
IN THE HOUSE OF LAPA IN THE GOODLY STEAD OF SUBIACO
ON THE DAY OF SATURN, TWENTY-EIGHTH DAY THIS APRIL
AT SEVEN AND ONE HALF OF THE EVENING CLOCK
MEAT SHALL BE EATEN, FLESH SHALL BE CONSUMED AND LAXATIVES SHALL BE REQUIRED!
FOR SUCH IS THE WILL OF THE GODS!
(OR AT LEAST THAT OF THE PEOPLE WHO MOST LIKE MEAT)
OM NOM NOM! SO SAY WE ALL, OM NOM NOM!
MEAT!!

😀

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