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PS - is "slaw" really the past tense of "slay"?

Nice.


I had a hard time with it, but then again, I have a hard time with most epic greek poetry.

Pregnant, or Hanging?

Then again, I may be wrong.

I know I should let badger answer this herself, but I'm impatient, so I'll say:


Anthropolgy is based mostly on guesswork, conjecture and the current bias of the zeitgiest.  Therefore, nothing will ever be solved, or answered, or properly defended.



But that's just me.

Just so you know, I'm not paying any attention to this thread at all, at all.

An example of the former would be every single time RAW writes about Chapel Perilous.

In a linear medium like literature, "abstract" seems to imply either non-sequitor, gibberish, or references and analogies so far above the reader's comprehension as to be illegible.

Prime examples of the Latter being Finnagans' Wake and The Book of Lies.

Heh.  Thanks.

[Chapter 17: We have met the Noodle, and she is, um,Ķ]

Chapter 17: We have met the Noodle, and she is, um,Ķ

Horribly angled branches, with gnarled twigs grasping at the gloom passed by the window.  Anyone else, from any other part of the world, would immediately proclaim this place as haunted.  The too-close stacked trees gave birth to illusions of skulking movement, while sinister patterns in the bark made blasphemous hieroglyphics, incomprehensible warnings to anyone stupid enough to stay the night.

But we were from The City, and to us, if felt like a homecoming.  Erin sat up, the empty tequila bottle rolling off her supple thighs and hitting the car floor with a muted ,Äúbonk,Äù.

,ÄúOh,Ķ this is more like it.,Äù  She stretched her arms languidly, like a cat after being stuffed in a carrier for hours.  ,ÄúThat tequila really seemed to help,Ķ but now there,Äôs a problem.,Äù

,ÄúWhat,Äôs that?,Äù

,ÄúI am fucking horny,,Äù she drawled, as her hand reached out & began sliding its way up my thigh.  ,ÄúI guess I should have told you what tequila does to me, but I was way too far gone to care at the time.,Äù

,ÄúDammit Erin,,Äù I said, ,ÄúYour sense of timing absolutely sucks.  We have to get to the next treeline in under an hour.,Äù  The trees seemed to press upon us, reach out to the econobox, but somehow, it felt like an embrace.  Not as much as an embrace than Erin,Äôs palm placed firmly in my crotch, however.  Erin leaned in close, smelling of sex and tequila, and kissed me gently on my neck, then nibbled lightly.  I was definitely beginning to respond.  Maybe it wouldn,Äôt hurt to take a short break, I thought, as Erin pressed up against me, her soft skin rubbing against my shirt.

,ÄúL, c,Äômon, I know you,ÄîHOLY SHIT!,Äù  

I felt a sickening pain in my gut as she clenched her fist in reflexive terror, and an equally sickening sense of dread, as I saw what was in the road.  It was a barricade, but a barricade made up entirely of limbs.  Not tree limbs: It seemed like it was everything but tree limbs.  Cow legs, deer legs, dog legs,Ķ but mostly human.  Severed arms, dripping stumps of leg; feet, both bare and with shoes.  It was pretty gross.  I pulled the econobox left, hard, trying to avoid a collision, but the mass of appendages spanned the whole road, and the trees seemed to bunch together, forming a wooden wall, sharp branches jabbing out like spears.  The front right fender slammed into the meat pile with a wet Thud, and my face slammed into the steering wheel.  Just like a clich?©, everything went black.

I came to only a few seconds later, my cheek warm & wet, and Erin shaking my arm.  It seems the econobox had web safety, so she had the dubious privilege of her torso being held firmly to the seat by a tight mesh of plastic threads, with only her arms free to move.  It certainly showed off her figure.

I was feeling a bit woozy, but managed to thumb the web release on the dashboard, and Erin breathed a sigh of release as the threads snaked back into the seat.  ,ÄúDamn,,Äù she muttered, ,Äúthat was worse than a steel corset.,Äù

I managed a grin.  ,ÄúI,Äôd love to see you try that sometime.,Äù  I opened the door, and motioned to her.  ,ÄúYou,Äôd better come out this way, I,Äôm not sure you want to go out your side.,Äù  The econobox was partially buried in the limb blockade, making exit impossible, a grisly mess pressed up against the side window.

Erin climbed over the seat, and gingerly checked herself out next to the car, testing for any broken bones or bruises.  I could tell I had a pretty bad cut on my face, but apart from that, I seemed to be fine.  I walked around to the back, opened the case with the neuro-disruptor, and jammed an energy cell into the hilt.  There was a momentary high pitched whine, and then silence.  I made sure the mystery letter Stain gave me was still in my pocket, and walked back around to Erin.

,ÄúOk,Ķ what the hell is this!,Äù  She pointed to the mound of flesh.

,ÄúI can only figure it,Äôs one of 5 things.  One: Another utopian community has bitten the dust.  Two: Someone,Äôs got a really weird fetish.  Three: Noodle,Äôs run for Prezitator has gotten,Ķ extreme.  Four:  Someone has a fucked-up idea of a practical joke.  Five: Whoever,Äôs writing the script of our lives right now doesn,Äôt know how to write the part of Noodle, and they,Äôre stalling for time.,Äù

,ÄúWait.  Repeat that last one again?,Äù

,ÄúNever mind.  More esoterica.  What,Äôs important here is that we get the hell away from this pile of meat before we,Äôre spotted.,Äù

,ÄúWhy? Aren,Äôt you and this Noodle character supposed to be friends?,Äù

,ÄúYou think this entire Mountain is under her control?  No way.  I mean, she,Äôs certainly trying, but there,Äôs waaay too much terrain up here to cover.  And believe me, there,Äôs a few groups ,Äòround here you do not want to mess with.,Äù  I hoisted the disruptor.  ,ÄúI,Äôd tell you to stay behind me, but I doubt it would do much good, as most of these fuckers already know how to play in 3 dimensions.,Äù

,ÄúWhat the hell do you mean,Äî,Äù

From out of the trees, what sound led like from all sides, came a unified shout: ,ÄúSUBMIT FUCKERS!  FOR I AM AWESOME!,Äù  And then a shot, loud.  And another.  I heard the thick squelch of a bullet tearing into the pile of dead limbs, and I grabbed Erin, pulling her low to the ground.  I fired the disruptor straight ahead of me, and got lucky.  A scream, and the sound of a body falling to the ground.  I pushed Erin ahead of me.  ,ÄúRun!  That way!  Now!,Äù

We almost made it to the edge of the road.  Two large figures leapt from the upper branches of the trees, slamming into us with little grace, but much force.  I saw Erin crumple, as my head slammed into the ground.  The last thing I heard before the dark world of unconsciousness robbed me of my senses was, ,ÄúI don,Äôt like spiders and burritos are cool.  I want to break little glass people right now.  Whales remind me of spleens.,Äù

Well, I guess we found her, I thought.

***     ***     ***     ***     ***

Don't you just hate it when you try to take a dress off and get stuck in the armholes? It gives me claustrophobia and I worry about being stuck that way forever because I live by myself and maybe no one would notice I was trapped and I'd slowly die that way and then the paramedics would laugh at me when they come to haul my body off - how embarassing.  

This is why you should always have someone with you when yo utake off your dress.

I'm sure you could find plenty of volunteers.

Please to note:

1.  I was referring specifically to what you said, not LHX.  I may have misunderstood your point about Determinism; shit happens.  But I wouldn't classify that as a Strawman fallacy; instead, I was attempting to clarify the issue.  The issue being that LHX wasn't talking about Determinism, per se.


2.  the "v" between my approximations indicate "versus" as in "as opposed to", and they were trying to frame the issue, not conclude it.  As you can see, a conversation that revolves around:

"there is no set future, and no master plan", as oppsed to "the future can be known, and there is a master plan"

is different from: "Nothing can be changed" v "likeactions produce like results."

It appeared to me that I was dealing with the former, and you were dealing with the latter.  In this sense, while we are responding to each other in the same thread, we are not communicating.  I was attempting to bridge that gap.


Perhaps I don't completely understand the determinist stance.  Perhaps you didn't fully understand why or how I ripped off Pascal's Wager.  In the end, however, I get the feeling we're not very far apart in our opinions about the nature of Universe.

i think i just hate when it seem like something is abstract just for the sake of being abstract


there is a lot of power in the pen


why make sparklers when you can make fireworks

What about music?

Wouldn't you say that music is a completely "abstract" form of art?

It's jus a sequence of sounds, after all.

Woah....




...That was beautiful.

Because if they're drunk at home and screaming at the TV (which is showing "Trading Spouses goes to Compton"), they'll be out of your way.