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Fuck. 



Damn.

So Howl, I really like the Mechanicum concept and the Machine God. For all of the ritualistic and baroque tone of the setting the Mechanicum stands out as both not worshipping the Emperor and as a power in its own right. This despite being in the same system with the center of Galactic politics. Also Titans. I want a real one.

How do you see the concept in 40k, and when you speak of it here in more realistic terms how might it differ?

I'll get to this tomorrow.  And I'll holler at Richter.  He's sort of the high priest.

The Adeptus Mechanicus is at the same time the custodian / provider / regulator of all technology, and a group mired in routine / ritual when it comes to any construction or maintenance.

A Mechanicus Techpriest is at best able to fix anything with enthusiasm.  They live for that shit.  At worst they're the guys who won't close the cowling and re start the engine on a crashing spacecraft because they haven't finished the proper chants to the fuel distributor cap and applied the necessary anointing lubricants.  They do all this to praise the Mahcine God (present in all apparati), and respect the individual anima of whatever projects they are working on. 

This is not to say there are not average Joe mechanics running around.  To get the flavor, imagine car mechanics as lay-priests, and the whole works like a monastery crossed with a machine shop.  More when consciousness allows.  Dan Abnett wrote up a great description of these folks in action in the 2nd book of his Eisenhorn trilogy.  (solomon Kane in space - check it out if you can)

I saw Courtney Love with hair in her teeth.  Dunno what you saw.

My head is a festival.   

I can try to picture this in my head, but my brain keeps ANIMATING it

JehhovaBubba - we're still not really sure WHAT we saw, a fact which pisses off the illustrators to no end.  Visually representing a double-wide tetragramaton, ABVBHVHJ, is either a job for the next Dali, or a squad of dreadlocked poseur artists, after all.  (Since even a dozen different community college desk doodle variations would get closer to the truth than you'd expect...

Imagine Buddha in tight white underoos

Imagine Mohammed with a 2x4 and a beer.

Imagine a rabbi in a meshback hat on a tractor.

Not that any of us can be sure what we saw....

 

This is perhaps too true.  I still catch myself bieng 2d sometimes.  Like when I stand still enough and people don't see me.  Or when my skill at conversation just sort of STOPS.  I have coping mechanisms though.  That carpet looks awfully dull....

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/91/Burnside_Fountain_-_Worcester%2C_MA_-_DSC05765.jpg/640px-Burnside_Fountain_-_Worcester%2C_MA_-_DSC05765.jpg

Note from my paranoia - does this jackhole have any remote access?

or how running down the flight deck in chaps and a stetson would have NEGATIVE cosequences now.

They used to call us heroes.

Now we're "Not safe for work".  Unless I need a face shield tucked in my belt to keep sparks off my balls, I fail to see the safety issue.

I'm never allowed to do this again by the way.

(Something about opaque clothing only, and the ultraviolet spectrum doesn't count.)

On the plus side I am VERY Good at board games now.

Leln - it's hard to explian but she knows books know.  All about them, all of what's in them, and how to find it.  It makes more sense when you understand the practicalitites of any sort of omniscience.  Could have been worse - Cainad got the same thing but related to stones, after all.

When we finally got up far enough that the drive system had something to grab onto again it was all getting fuzzy - like how we made a reactionless drive powered by slack in the first place, or how running down the flight deck in chaps and a stetson would have NEGATIVE cosequences now.  I'll explain it when I can - it will jsut take awhile with a 2 D brain...

"It's the ideal deterrent!"

The man was a tactitard, I decided.  New enough to the city to be enamored of the freedom to haul around hardware - but not QUITE getting how to apply it yet.

"I mean WHO gets in the face of a guy with a flamethrower?"

He was only wearing half the asbestos he needed, and in the wrong places.  Still, sweat ran down his imitation "high andtight haircut, and through the inevitable soul patch on its way into his brand name "operator tunic" and trousers.  I don't think I even need to mention the boots, other than the fact they were meltable.

I chose my words carfeully.

"Somone's going to cap your fuel tank for fun, Matt.  I'm going to stand somewhere else now.  Good luck."

He turned the SPECIAL shade of pale and began blubbering about his situational awareness and (civilian) training.  I focused on walking outside the inevitable flaming doom radius.  Some people just don't have the temperment for HE or flame weapons.  Some people don't stop to think sometimes.  Sure the city runs loose and vicious, but folks get hung up on the idea that it THINKS.

Fact: it does no such thing.  Sure, there can be premeditation.  Most malice is the off the cuff deranged humor sort though.  Try to explain the mores of classical music to an R+B crowd.  That's about where reason ranks around here.  Lucky I figured that out when I did.  The smiling bastard who wheeled me in here strapped to a victorian era wheelchair caught up with me at a local watering hole and told me I might make 6 months here thinking like that.

Then he asked why I wasn't armed.

I could have kicked him in the teeth.  I had blisters to horrible to tell from the single stack 9 riding next to my balls, and I'd never eat REAL spice again to make sure my emergency cigar tube 20 gauge zip gun didn't get dislodged.  I told him the heavy hardware was in the Jeep - If I needed to quick draw anti-materiel capability I was dead anyways, so why worry about it.

More smiles, and a round of bourbons.

My senses returned half the night later on the dance floor.  Somehow I was dancing with two people.  One had a remarkably sharp trilby on and winked at me knowingly.  The other looked the adopted child of Ms. Frizzle and Kali.

"Keep dancing white boy."  She said with a smile - and a razor pressed to my inner thigh.  Yup - I'd met these two before.
"ALways pick a good jukebox bar." Sharp Hat said.  "I've hardly ever seen the AWFUL happen while the Black Keys are on.

I almost offfered to sharpen that - but thought better of it.

I came to in a heep of saddle blankets next to some scrub pine. 

"GRab your shit Cossack - New Prussia need you!"

Yup, one of those days.....

I STAND BY MY DECISIONS.

This is the second time someone has found that out of the blue.

Whatever you did to get your crap hooked up to zefrank, keep it up!  They put out some quality material

Perfect!

May their worldly grandparents chuckle and their up-tight aunt loose her shit in a way that's funny for everyone
(else)

SPEAKING AS A TRANS-SNAIL, I FIND ALL OF THIS VERY OFFENSIVE.

CHECK YOUR VERTIBRATE PRIVILEGE.

NO.

NO.

You call it "privilege"

We call it "Not leaving spooge tracks in every room we walk through"

CAINAD!  EXPLAIN THIS SHIT 

The snails that can be described are not snails.