Archive for March, 2003


March 30, 2003

(In reference to the new summary statement above.)

aspiration n. 1. a strong desire, longing, or hope; ambition. 2. a goal or objective desired. 4. a. the articulation of a speech sound accompanied by an audible puff of breath. 5. b. the act of inhaling fluid or a foreign body into the bronchi and lungs, often after vomiting. [1375-1425; late ME] — aspirational, adj.

Excerpted from the Random House Webster’s College Dictionary.


March 30, 2003

As you can see, I’ve done some procrastinating today by tampering with the gist mill’s appearance. Here you have it. It’s actually not much different, but I think I like it. You?

In the last two days, I’ve seen Adaptation and Made. I should also mention that I saw these films in lieu of seeing The Two Towers again. Sara and I were going to go see it last night, but we watched the trailer at Apple’s terrific trailer site before we left and realized how much of the movie we’d have to sit through to see what we wanted: Rohan, especially the Golden Hall, and Gollum. Perhaps I’ll catch it again when it’s cheaper. No doubt I’ll purchase some ridiculous boxed version of it on DVD, then regret it, then watch it a thousand times anyway. Ah, DVD.

Right, so, two new reviews forthcoming, I suppose.

Noise: Globetrekker (formerly “Lonely Planet”) is on.


March 26, 2003

Skull-splitting headaches. Sleepless nights. Stomach distress. My mouse-hand hurts something fierce. Typing is painful.

All at once, I’m unable to fathom any way in which I could get to see Europe while I’m still young. Where do yuppies get all their money? Looking back over the past few years, it seems like so little time has actually gone by; how little I’ve done in that time, really. If that’s my rate of production, then life is even shorter than I feared and I have so little time to do the sorts of things I’d like to do. The panicky desire to do so much at once stalls my engine. Nothing gets done.

At the same time, I recall sitting in a Pizza Hut on my lunch break from the elevator company, teaching myself HTML. Now I’ve got a couple of websites under my jurisdiction. That’s something, but it doesn’t seem to be getting me to Great Britain, now does it?


March 21, 2003

British Warfare

As an example of why I favor British traditions of military performance over our own, go to William Gibson’s blog today. There you’ll find a passage of text that reveals the value of an educated soldier. It’s really something.


March 20, 2003

Embarrassing Haul

The books I wanted came in at The Source today. Hurray for that. Not an hour after I got back to the office, Tod from Fantasy Flight Games called to let us know that the local Wizards of the Coast store was going out of business; everything in the store is 50% off. Everything. So I bought an embarassing amount of stuff. The rationale: For the price of Mutants & Masterminds, I got two game books, two decks of Jack Daniels playing cards (very handsome) and a pack of geeky Mage Knight dungeon terrain. The loophole: I get paid tomorrow. Whew.

In other news, I got our Atlas Games news item on the front page of yesterday.

Noise: Massive Attack, “Angel”


March 18, 2003

Death of the Warrior Princess

Saw the series finale of Xena: Warrior Princess; it’s not quite as logical as I was hoping for, but it was a pretty fitting end for the show. Xena gets to be a suitable bad-ass, there’s a sense of closure for her relationship with Gabrielle and some genuinely emotional scenes throughout. It feels a bit odd, I guess, going all the way to Japan in just the last two hours (after going all the way to Chin and back earlier in the series), but who cares. It was a good enough time that I didn’t manage to get much work done for tonight’s game while the movie was on. So it really kept my attention, which a lot of Xena episodes couldn’t. A lot of atmosphere, some descent pulp fantasy adventure elements and a lot of pretty things to look at.

Sounds: This American Life #203: “Recordings for Someone”


March 17, 2003

Singed by the Midnight Oil
Here I am in the office at 10:15 on a Sunday night. Fortunately, all is well. I’ve just stopped by this evening to share this interesting little bit from Bill Bryson’s entertaining and often surprising The Mother Tongue: English and How It Got That Way:

… Dr. W.C. Minor, [was] a man of immense erudition who provided from his private library the etymologies of tens of thousands of words. When Murray invited him to a gathering of the dictionary’s contributors, he learned, to his considerable surprise, that Dr. Minor could not attend for the unfortunate reason that he was an inmate at Broadmoor, a hospital for the criminally insane, and not sufficiently in possession of his faculties to be allowed out. It appears that during the U.S. Civil War, having suffered an attack of sunstroke, Dr. Minor developed a persecution mania, believing he was being pursued by Irishmen. […] Clearly, Dr. Minor’s madness was not incompatible with scholarship. In one year alone, he made 12,000 contributions to the [Oxford English Dictionary] from the private library he built up at Broadmoor.

That’s simply wonderful.

Music: Danny Elfman’s Sleepy Hollow