Remus Shepherd

Almost makes me want to watch Eurovision. Almost.

Should the OAS set upsomething similar for North and South America?

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

June 18 is the 200th anniversary of beginning of the War of 1812. Not really sure what the official memorials will be up here: are there little papier-mâché White Houses one can purchase to burn?

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Seen at the Comics Curmudgeon

I love Rex and June’s facial expressions SO MUCH that that I’ve decided to revive an ancient (yes, five years ago is “ancient,” on the Internet) Comics Curmudgeon tradition: a comics panel lookalike contest! You might recall the finger-quotin’ Margo and self-clubbing Tyler lookalike contests; now it’s time for a Hilariously Overwrought Rex and June Facial Expression Lookalike contest! Here, here’s a close-up of the panel:

Take a photo of you and a friend imitating Rex and June here (no need to include Iris and Mabel, but feel free if you think its important for your take on the tableau) and send éem to me at bio@jfruh.com. The top entry will be arbitrarily chosen by me and whatever friends or family members I rope into helping me pick, and wins … eternal glory? Sure, let’s say that. Eternal glory PLUS your choice of one item from the Comics Curmudgeon merch store, which yes, still exists, even though I haven’t updated it in a long time. Go forth and look like that panel, everybody! Points for style, execution, amusing variations, etc.! I am not legally responsible if you sprain your face trying to match Rex and June’s expressions.

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

The population of Saskatchewan

1901 	 91,279 	 
1911 	492,432

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One of the lovely things about Live Journal is meeting up with people of similar interests and then discovering, to your surprise, that they actually live close to you.

One of the sad things of life is that one day it will come to an end, and sometimes far too early.

The lovely leni_jess, who wrote Muggle Studies for the Mature Student for me last year in the sshg_exchange, has died suddenly in hospital in Canberra. There is now a great big Leni-shaped hole in the HP fanfic writing world, and it will always be there. She brought smiles and very silly giggles, and she will be missed. She already is.

I just put up a new chapter of Space Captain Pinkie Pie. If you've been following through livejournal you probably want to read the last two chapters since I didn't post a separate notice for the last update.

It is a fairly timid cat and I didn't get a good look at it when I dropped by to pick up the keys. My expectation is I would not see it at all.

What actually happened is I unlocked the door and the cat came charging into the room, meowing its head off. Then it saw who I was and a long, uncomfortable pause ensued. In the end it decided to keep meowing at me.

I could not help but notice it stopped being interested in socializing with me the second the wet food hit the bowl....

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

Yeah, the inhospitably radioactive surface of the Earth is pretty much never actually inhospitably radioactive.

Also, announcer Fred Collins sounds a lot like Phil Hartman when he delivers the line

These are stories of the future; adventures in which you'll live in a million could-be years on a thousand may-be worlds.

I am aware of the order of events and I do know it would be more correct to say Hartman sometimes sounded like Collins.

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

Via Weaselking: Conway's Game of Life used to run Conway's Game of Life.

(More on the 'metapixel' used to power this here.)

This entry was originally posted at http://lederhosen.dreamwidth.org/776904.html. Please comment there using OpenID.

As it turns out, people don't change very much. The reaction to a new technology (or at least tech which is new to them) is pretty similar no matter when it was or what the tech is.

As a fan who began his fannish career typing fanzines on ditto while my college roommate Frank Balazs did the same, I encountered disparaging remarks on how weird fans were. Instead of talking to the people in the room, you wrote them mailing comments. You might be responding to something they wrote months ago, and your roommate might not see your reply for months.

More recently, people text/Twitter/Facebook to/about people in the same room. I hear the same disparaging things. Often said with a twinkle, to be sure, as the speaker is most likely to have done the same. Still, it got old fast.

And to show you how old: While reading Charles Dickens Great Expectations (Chapter 7), written in 1867, I came across the following. The type of social media interaction is almost identical 150 years later. Of course, I'm reading the book on a Kindle, making the anachronism even more pronounced:

One night, I was sitting in the chimney-corner with my slate, expending great efforts on the production of a letter to Joe. I think it must have been a fully year after our hunt upon the marshes, for it was a long time after, and it was winter and a hard frost. With an alphabet on the hearth at my feet for reference, I contrived in an hour or two to print and smear this epistle:

"MI DEER JO i OPE U R KR WITE WELL i OPE i SHAL SON B HABELL 4 2 TEEDGE U JO AN THEN WE SHORL B SO GLODD AN WEN i M PRENGTD 2 U JO WOT LARX AN BLEVE ME INF XN PIP."

There was no indispensable necessity for my communicating with Joe by letter, inasmuch as he sat beside me and we were alone. But, I delivered this written communication (slate and all) with my own hand, and Joe received it as a miracle of erudition.

"I say, Pip, old chap!" cried Joe, opening his blue eyes wide, "what a scholar you are! An't you?"

"I should like to be," said I, glancing at the slate as he held it: with a misgiving that the writing was rather hilly.

"Why, here's a J," said Joe, "and a O equal to anythink! Here's a J and a O, Pip, and a J-O, Joe."

I had never heard Joe read aloud to any greater extent than this monosyllable, and I had observed at church last Sunday when I accidentally held our Prayer-Book upside down, that it seemed to suit his convenience quite as well as if it had been all right. Wishing to embrace the present occasion of finding out whether in teaching Joe, I should have to begin quite at the beginning, I said, "Ah! But read the rest, Jo."

"The rest, eh, Pip?" said Joe, looking at it with a slowly searching eye, "One, two, three. Why, here's three Js, and three Os, and three J-O, Joes in it, Pip!"

I leaned over Joe, and, with the aid of my forefinger, read him the whole letter.

"Astonishing!" said Joe, when I had finished. "You ARE a scholar."

Berthing Confirmed!
25 May 2012, 12:12 PM EDT

The Dragon spacecraft has been offiically attached to the International Space Station!

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

Ode to Voir Dire
by Deputy Jim Crews

Voir Dire, Old French (via Latin) "to speak the truth": It is the jury selection process: "[Perspective jurors] are questioned by attorneys for each side and/or the trial judge about their background, life experiences, and opinions to determine whether they can weigh the evidence fairly and objectively."

The wall clock ticks on, a monotonous tone,
Only two jurors chosen and the morning is gone.
The cornerstone of Justice and Law we hold dear,
Is the onerous process that we know as voir dire.

The Judge's eyelids are heavy, his patience is thin,
He is anxious for the Finding of Fact to begin.
He sits in his chair and surveys his domain,
While the counselors squabble like Abel and Cain.

The Defense Counsel seeks jurors with tolerance high,
No conservatives, soldiers or cops need apply.
Opinions must be impartial and outlooks non-critical,
A plus is a sense of correctness political.

The prosecutor wants jurors who live by their code,
Who pay all their taxes and carry their load.
He seeks strong moral fiber and character true,
And it helps to slip in an ex-teamster or two.

The jurors, when questioned, defend their world views,
Their habits and opinions of the Six O'Clock News.
When responding to questions they consider each syllable,
In an effort to seem open-minded and liberal.

The Reporter records every word that is said,
And wonders if this record will ever be read,
By Appellate Courts, lawyers or reporter trainees,
Who get career information from ads on TV.

The Clerk sits next to His Honor and tries not to look bored,
And makes trips to the basement where jurors are stored.
She keeps the court ordered and running its best,
While trying not to think of the mess on her desk.

The Deputy, watchfully, observes the whole process,
And fights a quiet battle to remain upright and conscious.
He's not so concerned that the defendant gets loose,
But the fear he may snore like a stuffy-nosed moose.

When I was on Jury Duty a few years ago this was given to the jurors in Hennepin County Courthouse as we awaited our turn. The courthouse people were cognizant of how boring it was just waiting around, and were friendly and tried hard in a mostly-successful attempt to keep us from wandering away. While the conservative bias of the writer is obvious, it captures much of the spirit of the occasion. I have no idea who the author is, and couldn't find him via Google or FB.

I'm guessing a lot of Reynold's visibility comes from What Have they Done to the Rain?, Little Boxes, and Turn Around.










Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

Dogs have uncanny powers.

For example, Basil has figured out that Freddy Krueger (or whoever's doing his job these days) is waiting to kill Rey and myself in our sleep, and he has been heroically trying to prevent that from happening. What a loyal noble doggie.

In unrelated news, would anybody like a small black-and-white dog?

This entry was originally posted at http://lederhosen.dreamwidth.org/776502.html. Please comment there using OpenID.

Also posted at Dreamwidth, where there are comment(s); comment here or there.

"Dear GM, I just noticed a weapon that would work really well for my character. Um, so well that I'd like you to check it for game balance in case you think it's broken."

Hmm.

Power fist: costs 30 requisition points, requires Distinguished level Renown, 2d10+17 damage and ignores 9 points of armour.

Breaching augur: costs 18 req points, no Renown requirement, 4d10+15 damage and ignores 7 points of armour, doubles criticals. Also, special weapon ability means you actually roll 5d10 and discard the lowest.

Counting crits, average damage + armour pen = 38 vs 53, which seems impressive, but in practice either of them is enough to one-shot most opponents; it's more the cost and accessibility that seems odd.

OTOH, maybe it's just that the power fist is woefully under-powered/overpriced compared to ranged weapons. For the same cost as a power fist and lower Renown, you can buy a honking big lascannon that does comparable damage to the augur from a comfortable distance.

(It does annoy me a bit that the basic rule book has NO weapon upgrade options for a melee specialist until you've accumulated several missions' worth of reputation.)

This entry was originally posted at http://lederhosen.dreamwidth.org/776213.html. Please comment there using OpenID.

... and this one is for The Wizard of Oz himself, L. Frank Baum.

Today is the Glorious 25th of May.

Have a hard-boiled egg (in the absence of Freedom, Truth, Justice, and Reasonably-Priced Love), and make sure you know where your towel is.

This entry was originally posted at http://panacea.dreamwidth.org/456530.html

A couple weeks ago, we played some pathfinder on Saturday, and I'm not writing about it until now because I didn't get it done before having May over for a week, during which I mostly had better things to do and otherwise was reading fanfiction. Sorry.

( game summary )