The Off Topic Topic

[Razgovory]

Trailer for John Carter looks pretty awesome special effects wise, doesn't exactly give me much hope on the plot or acting though.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlvYKl1fjBI

My Dad really wants to see that one.

[garbon]

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-17243105

A Japanese researcher has used thousands of strands of spider silk to spin a set of violin strings.

The strings are said to have a "soft and profound timbre" relative to traditional gut or steel strings.

That may arise from the way the strings are twisted, resulting in a "packing structure" that leaves practically no space between any of the strands.

[jimmy olsen]

That's cool

[Ideologue]

It's been so long since I've played Halo, or any FPS, that after twenty minutes of Reach I was close to throwing up and I couldn't feel my face from motion sickness.

Silly reflex.  I'M NOT POISONED, BRAIN, KNOCK IT OFF.

[jimmy olsen]

It's been so long since I've played Halo, or any FPS, that after twenty minutes of Reach I was close to throwing up and I couldn't feel my face from motion sickness.

Silly reflex.  I'M NOT POISONED, BRAIN, KNOCK IT OFF.

Are you sure the diabetes didn't just happen to kick in right then?

[Ideologue]

Nah, I've always been pretty susceptible to that sort of thing, since I was a kid.

Oddly, it's only video that'll do it.  Actual movement (i.e., riding a roller coaster, or other amusement park discombulator), short of literally spinning in circles for minutes on end, won't make me ill.  The only time I ever got sick at an amusement park was some curved-screen monstrosity showing bumper-cam footage of a street race (notwithstanding that time I ate German food at Busch Gardens Williamsburg, but that's something else entirely).

[Razgovory]

I've only had that happen playing one PC game.  That most recent Aliens v Predator game.  Playing as the Alien you crawl up walls and ceilings and move very quickly.  Constant changes in direction along with the weird walleyed perspective made me dizzy.  I also had just gotten a new wider monitor so that might have been part of the problem.  Game gave me a headache so I quit.  Don't know how it ended.  I guess the Alien won.

[sbr]

It got to da choppa.

[jimmy olsen]

I've only had that happen playing one PC game.  That most recent Aliens v Predator game.  Playing as the Alien you crawl up walls and ceilings and move very quickly.  Constant changes in direction along with the weird walleyed perspective made me dizzy.  I also had just gotten a new wider monitor so that might have been part of the problem.  Game gave me a headache so I quit.  Don't know how it ended.  I guess the Alien won.

Well, if you were playing the Alien when you quit then wouldn't mean that the Marines won?

[Josquius]

i'm odd with that. Console FPS are impossible for me, really make me feel horrific.
PC ones though are generally no bother.
I guess its down to the greater smoothness of the mouse and keyboard controls

[Lettow77]

 Reading my old journal can make me either very embarrassed or make me swoon over myself. It depends on the era, but I really am quite in love with my own turns of phrase. Long after I have forgotten writing them, I see myself as the very image of the author i'd like to read. On the other hand, I sometimes am given to thinking my best output is behind me, and that I have degenerated into someone of less measure and vigour than there once was. I miss the fanatical passion I used to so regularly feel!

Edit: And sweet little endearing things like dating the diary "11 july 143 AA". I have entries consisting of nothing except the sincere statement "Caught up in a wave of nationalism and ethno-centrism again, mew."  Was this not a superior person?

Or better! guest entries from the missus in which her tone is so similar to mine- I did a really thorough job there. I'd never have the energy, disposition or the force of will to shape another person so completely anymore 

Edit edit: The further back I read, the more sincere and intense my confederate nationalism comes through. An awful lot of poetry and romanticism. I wish I could know old me. I bet we'd argue about the role of an individual's duty or something like that. He'd think I was homosexual, too.

Final edit: well, we went far enough back that it became downright embarrassing, as anyone's teenage years will be. But I found a memory that should be significant to languish!

I have, at pain of the greatest of exertions, rid my house of the Ides of Nathan.
It was a treacherous path, but the eventuality of it was that I was able to pawn him off upon a family with a schoolteacher staying home, and two eager-to-dog-children.


But my great struggle was only halfway through! I must find a feline. I searched the classifieds; I searched the house of mews. But the Order of the Silvestris demanded no less then 100$ a head; a princely sum such as I could not muster, yae, not even with the sum of my things.

But defeat was not to be my epitaph! I perservered.

And at long last, I found a humble family in east memphis. Children. A mother. A father. A pregnant cat. It smelled like victory.

I siezed my oppertunity! A kitten entering into its seventh week was my option; but there were numerate felines who held this attribute. Before me were several cats in the spring of their years- after the winter of my trials, in which no cat could be obtained, suddenly I had multiple options!

Mercy's guiding hand led me to the runt of the litter, a black-and-white female with stormy eyes and a penchant for mewing plaintively to the world, bespeaking the injustice that she not be given the artifacts with which to slaughter Man.

I claimed her as my own; I named her Ennui. She loves me.

She is eight weeks old now, and we are destined for greatness, kristi, ennui and I. The cat shall watch upon my marriage, and give it its sanctimonious feline blessing.

[The Brain]

Reading my old journal can make me either very embarrassed or make me swoon over myself. It depends on the era, but I really am quite in love with my own turns of phrase. Long after I have forgotten writing them, I see myself as the very image of the author i'd like to read. On the other hand, I sometimes am given to thinking my best output is behind me, and that I have degenerated into someone of less measure and vigour than there once was. I miss the fanatical passion I used to so regularly feel!

Edit: And sweet little endearing things like dating the diary "11 july 143 AA". I have entries consisting of nothing except the sincere statement "Caught up in a wave of nationalism and ethno-centrism again, mew."  Was this not a superior person?

Or better! guest entries from the missus in which her tone is so similar to mine- I did a really thorough job there. I'd never have the energy, disposition or the force of will to shape another person so completely anymore 

Edit edit: The further back I read, the more sincere and intense my confederate nationalism comes through. An awful lot of poetry and romanticism. I wish I could know old me. I bet we'd argue about the role of an individual's duty or something like that. He'd think I was homosexual, too.

[Liep]

Heard from the Danish commentator on Paris-Nice prologue: "If you use the breaks, you slow down."

[Iormlund]

I get really sick playing Source engine games, unless I can modify the Field of View.

[Razgovory]

Cleared my Hard Drive last night.  I like to do that on occasion.  Right now going through the tiresome task of updating windows.