Wyrmlog

Things did not go at all to plan this week.

It was Justin’s 30th on Saturday (well, technically it was last week but he had the party on Saturday night) and I was really looking forwards to it because he’d decided on a Roman theme. This meant that I could go all out on obsessive historical detail and generally just enjoy being a history nerd. So I spent a good deal of time brushing up on my Latin and getting to work on costume ideas.

I also decided that rather than bring along a boring, paper birthday card I’d make a replica Roman writing board (a tabula) and inscribe a birthday message on it in Latin (a project that required a fair bit of carpentry and melting of wax on the stove). I also dressed up a perfectly good bottle of Devil’s Lair Fifth Leg as LATIBVLVM DIABOLI – CRVS QVINTVM and wrote out a little Latin speech to recite while handing them over (which I can’t find right now, otherwise I’d type it out).

For my costume I considered a number of options including putting on white face makeup and dressing up like Marilyn Manson (a Goth! – get it? Get it? No, no one else would have either). But in the end I decided to do the same as everyone else and go with the toga. But, no bedsheet for me! I purchased a good length of fabric (black – because I thought I’d both be an individual and carry through the goth joke a bit) to do it properly and with a bit of messing around in front of the bathroom mirror got it looking pretty damn spiffy. So, by Friday evening I was all set and looking forwards to a great night.

Then I woke up on Saturday morning with the head cold from hell >:|

I tried every trick I know to get rid of it, but by Saturday night I could hardly stand upright. Needless to say living it up as a Roman wasn’t an option so instead I had to sit at home and sulk. Very dissapointing!

(I did send my gifts on with Ryan though and they apparently went down quite well.)

So I spent most of yesterday doing my best to recover – which I managed to do pretty well really. If I’d got sick on Friday I would have been right for the party on Saturday!

So anyway today I got up, had breakfast, did some poking around on the net, and then was struck down by a massive migraine. Happily some ibuprofen and a few hours of sleep seem to have tamed it somewhat, but it’s still annoying. Once again the universe shows that it does not intent me to enjoy my Mondays off. *sigh*

So what else have I been up to? Last Sunday – which is to say not yesterday but the one before – I got together with the guys at Fabian’s for some gaming goodness, and to draw up a character for Matt in my long dormant Post-Nuclear-Western-Semi-Steam-Punk-South-West GURPS game (try saying that three times fast). It was a pretty good day, I got to do some more testing on some game systems I’ve come up with and there was pizza. Then on Thursday night I stopped over at Matt’s new place (which as it turns out is just up the road from work) to help him out with some website stuff. Unfortunately I managed to miss the last bus to Subiaco, leaving my only choice for getting home a bus to the Terrace and a dash through the dark and empty city in the freezing rain to the train station. Since the city can be a bit dodgy at night (that’s when the mole-men – and worse things – come out) I took the coward’s option and called the parents for a lift. This meant standing around outside in the freezing rain for a while, but at least there was little risk of being chased down and eaten by morlocks 🙂

An interesting consequence of this adventure was that Matt leant me his copy of Delta Green. By strange coincidence while pottering around the net yesterday I stumbled over A Colder War by Charles Stross. Immediately I was gobsmacked by the idea for a 1980’s cold war version of Delta Green. Take out the Greys and all the X-Files style conspiracy stuff, and set it in a world where all the Governments know exactly what’s hidden in Antarctica, but have agreed to keep it hidden from their citizens (under the Dresden Agreement), while at the same time trying to turn the mythos into weapons. The Red Army deploying shoggoths in Afganistan, Saddam Hussein invoking Yog-Sothoth against Iran, the CIA smuggling heroin through Elder Things gate networks and the USAF building nuclear powered bombers to take care of that mysterious bunker in Ukraine – should it ever became necessary.

The players would be part of a covert-ops team (working for the Government, no need for the whole ‘secret war’ theme) covering up ‘incidents’ and trying to hijack/derail the other side’s research programs without causing ‘incidents’ of their own. Sort of Tom Clancy meets H.P.Lovecraft. I reckon there’s a lot of potential there for someone to run a majorly kick-ass campaign if someone where to put it together.

Unfortunately though ‘someone’ is not going to be me. I have more than enough on my hands with my GURPS campaign, and was never that good at running Cthulhu anyway – I’m not ruthless enough to acurately protray Lovecraft’s bleak universe. My games tended to turn into “kill the monsters and be home in time for tea and crumpets what what old fellow?”.

So yeah that’s what’s been fizzing in my brain for the last 24 hours. Hmmm, maybe that’s got something to do with the migraine… 😀

The headline on today’s West Australian is Battling Farmers Join Road Gangs. I had momentary visions of farmers pulling on chains and leather jackets and terrorising the highways on converted tractors, Mad Max style.

According to Slashdot Yahoo! music is thinking of selling MP3s without DRM. If true this is seriously big news for me – the reason I’ve steered clear of legal music downloads to date is the ridiculous amounts of crippleware the companies attach to the files. If Yahoo! Music is going to sell plain, vanilla MP3 files then I’ll happily pay for them. That’s the upside – the downside is that the only example so far is a Jessica Simpson song (blech!)

Selecting a muzak version of Achy Breaky Heart as your ringtone should be made a crime against humanity – particularly if you intend to take your phone out in public.

While The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba is one of the most perfect pieces of music ever composed, Holst’s Thaxted is probably the best tune ever written.

 

*Sigh* By dint of being much too nice, I’ve gone and got myself mixed up in an enterprise I really don’t want to have anything to do with.

Two doors down from me in the complex is a Chinese woman with minimal English skills. We met a few months ago when she managed to lock herself out of her unit and I rung around a few locksmiths to try and get someone to come out and let her in. This act of charity however seems to have nominated me as the go-to guy for any kind of problem she has. Like the current one for instance.

Apparently her roommate is moving out. She wants to advertise for someone new but (with her as mentioned minimal English skills) doesn’t really know how to go about it. So, she came knocking on my door. Now (through a combination of, as mentioned, being too nice and only understanding about every third sentence she speaks) I find myself having to phone up the newspaper and get a quote for an add, and basically having to co-ordinate the whole thing. Which is majorly stressful and seriously something I don’t need right at the moment.

I would dearly like to ditch the whole thing and tell her to sort it out herself, but how can you really do that?

This is all going to end badly, I can tell 🙁

On the whole my brain is pretty good. It seems to store and processes information fairly effectively. But every now and then things go badly wrong, and sometimes they’re rather hard to fix.

One such problem is a major indexing error between musical artists Missy Higgins and Missy Elliot. Whenever anyone mentions Missy Elliot, my brain serves up information on Missy Higgins instead. So far I’ve been able to cover for this, but sooner or later someone is going to ask me what my favourite Missy Elliot track is, and I’m going to say something like “Well, how can you go past Scar?” and then I’ll have no choice but to die of humiliation.

A similar problem occurs with the word wingardium. This is a double indexing error – depending on time of day and general mood, my brain either identifies this as Latin or Anglo-Saxon. It’s neither. It’s from Harry Potter. Which (if I ever got into serious conversation with some linguists) could be almost as humiliating as the multiple Missy problem.

I don’t really know how to fix these. Possibly a low level format, like a serious blow to the head or drinking three bottles of Wild Turkey in a row 🙂

The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba from the 1748 oratorio Solomon by George Frideric Handel is one of the most perfect pieces of music ever written.

You can quote me on that.

No big update because I’ve spent the last two days huddled up under a blanket with the flu. Well, not the flu really, just a cold, but it’s very unpleasant none the less. Running nose, sore throat, shivery aches and pains, the usual. I didn’t get much sleep last night because every time I swallowed my throat hurt like hell. Closing my mouth and breathing through my nose helped a little – but at least one nostril was always clogged and I couldn’t get enough air. So tossing and turning and wishing I was dead was pretty much the only option.

I’m starting to wonder if this whole taking-one-day-a-fortnight off is such a good idea. My first day off was a public holiday (so everything was shut and I couldn’t do anything), my second was spent in agony after pulling a back muscle in my sleep, and today was all illness and sleep deprivation. It’s as if the universe is trying to tell me something.

(I was actually planning to get a lot done today too – like posting long delayed packages to various people – but I guess it’ll have to wait until next weekend now)

I would try and write something witty – but I’m too sick. So I’m going to bed instead. Bah.

In keeping with my current Neil Gaiman obsession I finished reading Sandman number seven Brief Lives last night. Today I come into work and find two pieces of spam waiting for me with the subject lines “destruction compromise” and “temple head”.

What is going on!?!?

(I don’t have to work this Monday so expect a decent update this weekend)

Oh Tensor, how you consistently crack me up!

Did I mention that the ABC has started showing Time Team on Tuesdays? The archeology may be a bit slapdash (or so Helen said once anyway, and she should know) but it’s hosted by Baldrick (um… Tony Robinson I mean, obviously), it’s really interesting (for an archeology/history nerd such as myself) and it often features a rather cute Cornish osteoarcheologist. So all in all a pretty good watch. Six o’clock, Tuesday nights on ABC for those interested.

(I assume she’s Cornish based on her accent and repeated viewings of Doc Martin. She could probably be from anywhere in the West Country.)

PS: There’s a Monkey Island in the Thames!?!

You know, I’ve been thinking about that horrible video clip for The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins and I think I’ve figured it out.

It’s actually footage from the famous, lost, season three Star Trek episode I May be Hollow, but I have Touched Gene’s Wallet. This episode starts with the Enterprise being caught in a powerful tractor beam emanating from Sigma Aldronis 6 – a supposedly uninhabited planet. Kirk, Spock and McCoy find themselves transported down to the planet’s surface where they are confronted by a beautiful Sigman woman wearing pointy plastic ears. She welcomes Spock as ‘my Lord’ and orders that the others – his ‘servants’ – be locked up until ‘the festival’. Spock protests but is knocked unconscious and carried away by guards (who are also wearing plastic pointy ears).

Kirk and McCoy are grabbed by more guards. McCoy’s medical tricorder (which he happened to have on him when they were abducted) is confiscated and they are locked in an underground dungeon (where they are forced to wear plastic pointy ears). They begin plotting an escape and while attempting to recruit some of the Sigman prisoners they encounter talk of ‘baggins’, ‘the shire’ and ‘hobbits’. They quickly conclude that the planet’s culture has been contaminated at some point in the past. Kirk suggests that they could use this fact to help them escape and asks McCoy for any ideas. “Damnit Jim! I’m a Doctor, not a philologist!” he replies. Undaunted Kirk uses his knowledge of elementary chemistry to fashion a primitive firework from convenient rocks and a short section of metal pipe, and announces to the other prisoners that he is ‘the Wizard Gandalf’. When they doubt him, he sets off the firework, convincing them and winning their loyalty.

Meanwhile Spock regains consciousness to find himself in a luxurious bed chamber. His attempts to leave and find Kirk and McCoy are blocked by several guards who state that he cannot leave the room until ‘the festival’. Examining the room he finds his tricorder (which he happened to have on him when abducted) and then a copy of The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien on a lectern. He quickly reaches the same conclusion as the others about cultural contamination.

The woman who initially greeted them enters the bed chamber. Introducing herself as ‘Beorna’ she explains that the Sigman people are truly honoured to have a Elf visit them just in time for the festival. Spock protests that he is not an Elf, but she refuses to listen, indicating his pointy ears as proof. She insists that he sing ‘Rivendell style’ at the festival that afternoon, and implies that if he does not agree both ‘his servants’ and his ‘Elven sky-ship’ (the Enterprise) will be destroyed. Spock continues to debate with her, but surreptitiously scans her with his tricorder as he does so.

Kirk and McCoy’s plotting continues. Kirk finds just enough convenient rocks for one more shot from his firework. Bard – the leader of the Sigman prisoners – agrees to stage a fight to distract the guards.

Spock reluctantly gives in and agrees to perform to save Kirk and McCoy. He is dressed in ‘Elvish’ clothes consisting of white slacks and a navy sports blazer and marched out to the festival grounds. Just before he leaves however he slips a disc from the tricorder into his pocket.

The prisoners stage a fight as arranged. As the guards rush in to break it up, Kirk sets off his firework, stunning them. He and McCoy lead the Sigman prisoners out of the dungeon and into the crowd heading for the festival grounds. They are closely followed by several other guards who weren’t stunned by the pyrotechnics.

At the festival grounds Beorna announces to the crowd that this year’s celebration of Durin’s Day is especially blessed by the presence of an Elf who will sing Elvish songs for them. Just as she is about to hand over to Spock, Kirk and McCoy burst from the crowd. They are quickly surrounded by guards who move in to finish them off with spears…

Spock intervenes with a loud “Halt”. He demands that ‘his servants’ be spared. Beorna objects, but he announces that he will only perform if his servants are unharmed – reminding Beorna that this is part of their deal. She reluctantly agrees. He also insists that McCoy be given back his medical tricorder so he can ‘record the performance’. On seeing this done he ascends the stage (a large pile of rocks) and launches into his song, a musical re-telling of The Hobbit accompanied by a group of dancing Sigman teenagers in brightly coloured shirts and plastic ears.

Beorna encourages him to ‘smile’ and ‘look happy’ by threatening Kirk and McCoy with spears. He does his best and although his smile and cheery demeanour are obviously very forced, the crowd seems to be enjoying the show. The guards remove their attention from Kirk and McCoy, enchanted by his performance.

Halfway through the song, on the line ‘a magic ring he stole’ Spock produces the tricorder disc. He twirls it around his finger a few times, and then throws it to McCoy. McCoy slips it into his tricorder and finds a complete bio-scan of Sigman physiology. He quickly analyses it for vulnerabilities and discovers that a refracted semi-theta wave sequence will knock the Sigmans unconscious. He programs the tricorder to generate one, and sets it off just as Spock’s song finishes.

All the Sigmans fall to the ground, and a team of Enterprise security personnel beams down – explaining that the tractor beam holding the ship and disabling the transporter has turned off. They beam back up to the ship and Kirk orders them away from the planet.

McCoy asks Spock why he demeaned himself and his Vulcan logic by performing a song and dance about a children’s book. Spock replies that it was the only logical way to get the tricorder disc to him. McCoy agrees, but suggests that he seemed to be enjoying it all just a little too much. Spock denies this at which point Kirk suggests they settle the matter by examining the recording. “Recording Captain?” queries Spock. “Of course Mister Spock” replies Kirk with a grin “As your loyal servants we had no choice but to obey your every command”. McCoy presses a button on the tricorder and the rich tones of The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins float out of the speaker. Spock says nothing. “I’m sure we’ll enjoy your performance for many years to come Mister Spock” smiles Kirk. He and McCoy walk off, leaving Spock looking slightly disgruntled.

(The episode was due to be screened on July 8, 1969, but Paramount Executives thought it was too silly and repeated Spock’s Brain instead.)