Archive for December 2005

The radio station I set up and mentioned a few posts back has been having some technical difficulties; hence, broadcasts have not occured. All problems have been fixed now, so unless you’re brave and want to listen to the maiden broadcast tomorrow, Monday the Second at 7 AM will start (hopefully) a year of music, news, and general Daquell-ness via live radio.

Not about Christmas, no no no. Christmas was the happy festive time it should have been. As a matter of fact, it was possibly the best Christmas ever: I got a clock, another clock, a watch… I wonder if people are trying to tell me something here. Actually, I asked for them; my time-mechanisms all broke about the same time.

Tonight, however, I’ve just finished watching Star Wars III. For the first time in Reckless Abandon History, I give a movie only one star out of five. The stunning graphical effects were– stunning. For the first five minutes. Then they got old. For anyone who has ever payed any attention to Star Wars, the plot was evident and transparent at about that time, too. What really hit home, though, was the immense amount of manslaughter. The whole film was grossly full of killing; too much for me. This is coming from a Lord of the Rings fan. You could take any image of death imaginable, and it would be in there in some way. If you haven’t seen the film, don’t. If you have, you have my deepest sympathy.

Since lots of people do ‘It’s Christmas And I’m Happy’ posts on their blogs, I though I would not do that this year. I’m doing a ‘It’s The Day After Christmas And I’m Happier’, so stay tuned. However, for this wonderful Christmas Eve, I thought I would write a short, short story and then take a thesaurus and replace all the words I can with stranger ones. So, here goes:

Once on top of an age, not so far away from a far-away place, there resided a girl christened Marie. Despite the fact that she was juvenile, she had no siblings or close relatives. Her father had been abducted by apes requesting how to make conflagrations; he had eventually matured in a man-village. As the grief-stricken existence following that had past, her mother grew increasingly despondent until the high-quality faerie came and turned her into an oak tree which blew over in a tempest anyway. So Marie was all alone in the cruel vastness of the world.

Upon her twelfth birthday, Marie determined to hunt for her affluence like the underprivileged children constantly do in this type of chronicle. She shouldered her paltry personal effects on her back and sauntered out the entrance of her little hovel, never to come again. Before her lay Winter’s exertion, a forest of trees embellished with deep frost, whose branches bowed and nearly touched the soil. The earth itself was cast of snow, it seemed. Not a clamor could be perceived, proving that if a tree cascades in a forest and not a soul hears, it doesn’t make a reverberation.

Marie seized the twosome of nuclear-rocket-propelled-skates/skis/boots/toothbrush that her father had given her just the hours of darkness prior to when he was found missing, and fastened them to her feet. She decided that whatsoever ensued, she wouldn’t segregate with these affectionate contributions. “Five, four, three, two, one,” she calculated leisurely to manufacture the trepidation and to adjoin word count to this narrative, and pressed the Big Red Button. The nuclear-rocket-propelled-skates/skis/boots/toothbrush commenced violently through the wooded plain, and though the iniquitous badgers of the forest pursued her with cunning merriment, she managed to evade every ambush.

After two seconds of journey, she pushed the Big Not-Red Button. The nuclear-rocket-propelled-skates/skis/boots/toothbrush stopped. Before her lolled a coastline of which corporeal man has by no means seen. A young man was there, conceivably as infantile as she. He was trailing a stick in the water.

“Hullo,” he said. “Hi,” she answered. With this variety of chatter, they were presently the paramount of associates. The boy’s family name was Hophman Jerribaldy Adams Woldcough Lewis Martin Stromboll the Third. They exchanged IM screen names and set off walking along the duration of the seaside.

Out of the blue, an enormous hoard of buccaneers sprang from the clam-holes at their feet. “Harr, maties! Look at wot we’ve found ‘ere!” One of the crew sneered down at the children. Before long, both H. J. A. W. L. M. S. the Third and Marie were locked rigid in the hold of a gargantuan vessel called Rottingham. “We’ll look after yew two like yew were our own li’l tykes,” the skipper had joked, “after we show yew the interior of a shark!”
The series of events was unfortunate. H. J. A. W. L. M. S. the Third had a diminutive morsel of fresh bread, margarine, mutton, eggs, cheese, a Biggie Fry, two Whoppers, a Reuben, and five side-salads in his receptacle. As they nibbled this miniature final serving of food, Marie heard a resonance. It was Little John! According to the grapevine, he had gotten the names mixed up on his cartograph and had arrived at the Rottingham by inaccuracy. He soon called in the neighboring authorities, who flew the pirates to a saline colliery by helicopter. The children were over the moon with happiness and pledged on no account to make fun of Santa Claus another time.

And the great big cheese wheel rolled down the street, and everyone was happy again.

Too many ideas have crossed my brain this Christmas season. Or maybe, I’ve just been thinking too much.

Anyway, whatever the cause, I have erected a few more sites.

  • The biggest contribution to the online world is the semi-completion of NITEGames, the National Ideal Tag Emphasis Gaming Standards. The site, when done, will also have a roster and stats from previous games. Now, though, it consists of an event calendar, an unused blog, and a start page.
  • Next, and perhaps more interesting, is my online radio station. It will play from 7-8 AM every weekday, and sporadically throughout the day on Saturdays. On Sundays, it will rarely be up (maintenance and rest will be done then). To listen in, you must have Windows Media Player 7 or higher. Open the player, select the File menu and then select Open URL. (File->Open URL). Then, copy and paste http://24.225.91.27:2659/ into the textbox and press OK. Happy listening!
  • Finally, I acquired a TeamSpeak server. TeamSpeak is a wonderful program like a free internet telephone. Instructions for joining my server are at http://vladinscode.daquell.com/MBTSLive.html . Initially, I was going to do the radio over TS, and I may revert to that if it proves convenient.

If and when those are up, feel free to join me at any time. Hope you’re having a great Christmas Season!

Apparently, Tibber_de_Gniw has tagged me. The rules state that I must say who tagged me (already done), state who Santa Claus is going to be (someone who gives me my gift this year), and then tag a few people. I only know one other person who would be willing (read, who wouldn’t slaughter me) for tagging them, so I choose… BlondWarrior&McCracken!! You are now tagged! Mwa ha ha, power.

My Santa Claus is my employer, the wonderful and illustrious Margo! She let me off work the day after Christmas! Three cheers, roll out the tapis rouge, and huzzah to The UPS Store!

This business of ‘tagging’ reminds me of a few years back, when the people in our neighbourhood were trying out something they called ‘jingling’. To ‘jingle’ someone, you got a bag of candy and a note reading “You’ve been jingled!”, and left them by someone’s door. Then, like children used to do, you’d ring the bell and run off feeling sly.

Needless to say, we were jingled three or four times. There seemed to be a lack of planning on our neighbours’ part. The candy was good, though.

NO SPOILERS AHEAD

We (my dad, sisters, and I) went and saw The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. It was tremendous. The effects were astounding, the actors magnificent, and all the rest was quite, eh, good. Three thumbs up for this one! It would be on my Christmas list, but it doesn’t come out for the common plebian for a while yet.

Following the movie my happy-inertia was destroyed when I earned the score of Jewel the Unicorn from NarniaWeb’s (http://www.narinaweb.com) personality quiz. The very idea… ME, a unicorn…

During my usual poking around, I discovered that another hero of mine, Microsoft, also offers blogging services. Their blogs are very nice looking and rich in features, such as photo-blogging and personal lists. I couldn’t resist. My MS version of this blog is up at http://spaces.msn.com/members/daquelllife/.

I have no personal intention of maintaining that blog unless they improve themselves greatly; I just wanted to try it out.
(note: any site that refers me to Match.com is off of my frequently viewed sites list)

…I write a movie review of Because of Winn-Dixie. I don’t see anything wrong with a guy liking an innocent movie.

Winn-Dixie gets four and a half stars of five, in my opinion. The actors are all very competent, the dogs’ acting is well-scripted and executed, the script is written well, the various morals and underlying theme are sound, and the music–rather strange–is strangely enjoyable. There is a pleasant amount of humour, sadness, and anxiety, but not enough of any to overwhelm the senses. The plot is complex but not complicated, and all of the actors speak up and are easy to understand.

However, the plot was underutilized; many of the sundry plot-strands were not tied up in the end. If I could have one wish about this movie, it would be to make it longer. It seemed to me, when I first saw the credits start scrolling at the end, that the introduction had just finished and the movie could finally get going…

In all, in short, I would recommend going out and seeing the movie if you haven’t. It has one curse word in it that I found, but nothing else. If you can’t stand a clean, sweet, innocent film, don’t waste your time on it; otherwise, this is a definite must-see.