Vi lascio con questo video (Pulse"-Hexstatic) che richiama il mio stato d'essere un pò sospeso nel suo rassicurante liquido amniotico. Tornata al punto di partenza, ricomincio ad attendere rifrazioni per cambiare la mia usuale velocità di propagazione. Allora, quale migliore colonna sonora di questa, mentre a rilento mi riapproprio di quella manciata di cose sicure e sempre lì?

[vodpod id=Groupvideo.1495834&w=425&h=350&fv=%26rel%3D0%26border%3D0%26]

मेरे पास उसकी दी हुई हर एक चीज़ है
जो न उसने मुझसे बेतरह माँगी कभी
न उसने कुछ कहा ही ख़त के ज़रिए
और न मैंने ही यह नब्ज़ बाँधी कभी

वह लबों को सीं कर
बैठा रहता है मेरे पास ही
उससे मेरी इक शर्त है
जो न मैंने तोड़ी
और न उसने तोड़ी कभी
वह नयी शाख़ पर पहला फूल था
ज़िन्दगी का एक उम्दा उसूल था
क़ुबूल किया था मैंने उसको
अपना हाथ देकर
पर मैं न उसको कभी क़ुबूल था

ज़िन्दगी के रंग आँखों की नमी ने सोख लिए
मैं फिरता रहा हमेशा ही उसकी याद लिए
मालूम नहीं वह ख़ाब था या कोई रंग था
मेरे जिस्म का मोम जलता रहा फ़रियाद लिए

वह आया था मेरी ज़िन्दगी में
सूरज की पहली किरन जैसे
वह फिरता था दिल के बाग़ीचे में
इक चंचल हिरन जैसे
उसके लबों से उड़ती थी
तितलियाँ हँसी बनकर
अब वह बैठा रहता है
अपने माथे पर शिकन लिए
इक बार फिर वहीं आ गये
जहाँ से चले थे पहले कभी-

उसका सूरज जलते-जलते राख़ हो गया
मेरा चाँद पिघलते-पिघलते पिघल गया
ना उस दिन उसके दिल से उफ़ आयी
ना आज तक मेरे दिल से आह निकली

Ice Cube

"Raw Footage"

Release Date: 8/19

Website: www.icecube.com

2.5 out of 5 stars

Being the lead in "Are We There Yet?" and that classic's thrilling sequel, "Are We Done Yet?" just was not enough to keep Ice Cube content I guess.

Today sees the release of Cube deciding to put his gangsta pants back on with "Raw Footage." This new record is not the stuff of PG-rated family comedies. He comes quite hard throughout, but during the record's 16 tracks I was just left wondering if it's all just a bit too late.

Does rap music really need Ice Cube to make a comeback? While Cube does bring some serious issues to the table on his newest release (the war, the government, America, rap music) the whole record contains the aura of a once great artist being gone for too long trying to recapture that former glory.

Sonically the record is second rate West Coast funk. The songs have the Dr. Dre-esque plink-plank keys and horns popping up but nothing here is immediately grabbing. Most of the lyrical content harbors on Cube puffing up his own ego and talking about how nasty his flow is.

While the flow is at times nasty and the word play sometimes interesting the whole thing comes off as uninspired.

Which is the main proponent to Ice Cube’s comeback, it’s a wee bit difficult to imagine the rapper writing these rhymes about tough hood life and gun-talk while his accountant makes sure Cube’s millions are in order.

This is all a very sad affair since this is the same man that created such groundbreaking and controversial work in the 90s as a core member of N.W.A. and a staggering early solo output.

At least we still have those past classics to diffuse his current sad run at the box office.

Luke McCormick can be reached at 536-3311 ext. 275 or lmccorm2@siu.edu

Well, dear reader, you are in luck. With our good friend Alicia Wade’s graduation and departure into the real world, I have stepped up to inherit the column that changed the way SIUC students viewed Brangelina’s never-ending stream of babies. 

As stated before, I am a junior at SIUC studying cinema and journalism. My first entertainment piece was published in the Chicago Tribune when I was ten years old; I wrote a movie review for the “KidNews” section of the paper. I went to a critic’s screening and sat right in front of Roger Ebert; it was then that I knew that the magical world of Hollywood would be my news beat. I’ve written movie reviews for the DAILY EGYPTIAN for two years, and I serve as co-director of the Saluki Rainbow Network, an awesome organization I will occasionally shamelessly promote here. 

I digress. Each week, I will do one of two things. I will either devote an entire column to one aspect of the entertainment industry that I feel warrants discussion, or present a series of small news stories, followed by sarcastic jabs and cutting remarks. Examples: 

- Jennifer Aniston recently dumped John Mayer and was seen last Thursday having dinner with a mystery man in Hollywood. The bigger mystery is, judging by Aniston’s lack of movie output since 2006, why this is news. 

- Mike Myers has supposedly been cast as a British general in Quentin Tarantino’s long-awaited war epic “Inglorious Bastards.” Wait, Mike Myers with a wacky accent? That’s never been done before! 

More substantial space will be devoted to celebrities who warrant bigger stories (such as David Beckham leaving his house) or things in Hollywood that are actually positive. For example: Master P, who recently changed his name to P. Miller, is launching a new TV station called “Better Black Television,” which aims to provide more positive programming for black culture. Denzel Washington is on the advisory board for the network. 

As shocking as it may seem, some people in Hollywood simply can’t be dismissed with a silly aside. 

One promise I will make to you is that I absolutely, positively, will not cover anything or anyone related to “The Hills.” Those vacuous shells of people deserve to crawl back into the hole from whence they came and be forgotten forever. I could go on with a stream of obscenities, but I won’t.

Hollywood is a treasure trove of delight, and I hope in the coming weeks to bring you the news you crave and the stories you want. Have a pleasant first week of school and I’ll catch you all next Tuesday. 

Wes Lawson can be reached at 536-3311 ext. 275 or 24027@siu.edu.

3:34 AM and we went straight from the club, to my car, to the first semi-classy hotel we saw.

Spontaneous?

No. Just eager. Desperate.

I would have taken her to my apartment, but then I would have no option as to whether or not I could leave before dawn.

I threw her, softly, on the bed and watched her bite her lip seductively. I smiled and crawled over her. Everything fit so well, as she lay under me, teasing me, breathing heavy, tugging on my shirt. She was like a beautiful painting, the kind you would kill to admire. She put her hands around my neck and pulled me close to her face.

Then she whispered, still breathing heavily, “Mmmm, tell me a secret..”

She loosened her grip on my neck as she boasted a sexy glare.

Swiftly, I broke loose from her grasp and made my way quickly to the restroom.

Shut the door behind me.

Inhale, exhale.

I searched my pockets frantically.

I poured the contents out of my little baggy onto the ledge of the sink.

I brought my face to the mirror.

Empty.

I am an empty man.

What am I doing here?

I heard her outside the door, shuffling around, calling my name.

“I’ll be right out...” and I was feeling desperate.

I quickly pulled out my razor and fixed myself a line.

Then….sensation.

A gorgeous wave of an upbeat pulse flowed through me, inside and out.

Pulse. Pulse. Pulse.

I came out of the restroom, calm, trying hard to stay relaxed.

“You gonna tell me my secret now?” I couldn’t help but admire every sense of this girl and I couldn’t help but want to feel every inch of her body.

Let’s not wait any longer.

But I waited one more second. I ignored her question and walked to the radio sitting on the bedside across the room.

Then I looked back at her, smiled, and spoke in what seemed to be a really loud obnoxious beam, “Of course…I’m just setting the mood. What’s making love without music?”

“You can fuck me when you love me.”

At that moment, everything began to spin. I raged over to her and grabbed her tightly, one hand around her neck, the other on her waste. I pulled her close and whispered “I wanna fucken tear you apart…touch you in all the right places…I’m going to make you need me…I’m going to make myself your new addiction, girl…”

In that instant our bodies thrust deep into each other. She was kissing me hard, deep. My heart was pounding, and I could have sworn it was going to rupture my chest. The music seemed to be getting louder. We were fighting each other, frantically wrestling through the sheets, desperate to rid each other of our clothing… our barriers.

There was no holding back. There were no walls to be broken down. This girl could take anything she wanted from me. I unzipped her jeans, slowly lowered myself to her hips. Her back arched, and she looked at me, aching for me. I slid them down her hips, down her legs, and slowly off of her completely. Her body was a clean slate, and I couldn’t help but think how much I’d want to swipe a line of blow off her stomach, smooth and soft. My rough hands were pressed neatly all over her legs, up towards her thighs. She attempted to sit up, but I quickly shoved her back down. I kept one hand on her chest, keeping her pinned to the bed, and her body was squirming, and she was moaning softly. My other hand was working its ways, getting her completely undressed.

Then there she lay, and my mind was working ten times faster than my body could.

There was booming, there was blaring, and a ringing in my ear. And her moaning was getting softer, then louder. I hovered over her, kissing her, feeling her tongue dance behind my teeth. I caressed her neck with my nose, I bit the lobe of her ear all the while holding her face firmly and watching her pull on the sheets, pull on my shirt, trying to get a hold of me; trying to gain control. I let go, sat back and let her straddle me. She pulled off my shirt, roughly, and threw me down and I was lying on my back. She slithered her way down from my lips, caressed my chest, kissed me at my hips and started tugging at my jeans. Her body was warm, and I could feel her hair tickling me, like needles falling on glass. She looked up at me, with that icy stare, from below my chest. All I could see were her eyes, as she was unbuttoning and unzipping.

It was so loud, everything was maximized by an intense amount. Amplified. She pulled my jeans off, with no hesitance and threw them off the bed. Then she began to slide her hands from my thighs to my waste, around my hips…her nails surfacing my skin. I got hard immediately and her face brightened with a sense of satisfaction. She didn’t even bother to pull off my boxers as she slid her hand slowly beneath them. Her other hand was heading its way towards my face, onto my lips and then around my neck. She kept her hand wrapped tightly around my thigh, beneath my boxers and pulled me up into a sitting position. She then wrapped both hands around my neck, and wrapped her legs around my waste. She slowly brought her hips closer to mine, then there was a sudden thrust and I felt myself inside her. Her head fell back, her grasp grew tighter around my neck, and her hips were thrusting so gently, slowly, back and forth on top of me. Back and forth, back and forth. Her breathing got heavy, and I was starting to sweat. First my hands were tugging on the sheets on either sides of my body, but then I brought them right beneath her ass and I guided her into a quicker motion. Her body thrust roughly closer to me and my hands rose to her waist. Her hands went from my neck to my head, grasping and pulling chunks of my hair in between her fingers.

Intensity reached an all time high.

She threw me down and blessed herself upon me. Still gentle, still smooth, still soft. Blood was rushing through my head, her sounds were driving me to places I didn’t know I could reach. Her hips were moving in all the right rhythms and I felt my body tensing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, her face so raw, her look so intense… everything in perfect motion. Her head tilt back, my legs went numb, her voice was echoing through the room, and then everything went still. She pulled out and threw herself like a feather upon my chest, huddled in between my neck and my arm around her small frame. Sweat was trickling down my forehead, in between my legs, off my shoulders, and everything was just a hot whirlpool of intensity spreading through my body like an epidemic.

I didn’t hesitate for another round. The cocaine was working my body like a treadmill. I rolled over and abruptly threw her underneath me. I was straddling her petite frame as I brought both her hands and held them above her head. She kept them there, holding on to the bedpost right above her. I caressed my hands down the sides of her arms, the rest of my body barely touching hers, hovering and gliding down her skin, vaguely pressed against my own. I kissed her neck, ran my tongue around her collar bone and kept my hands searching her body like a maze, gazing my fingers in all her crevices, teasing her, deepening the look in her stare.  I brought my mouth down to her breast and got close enough to wear she could only feel the warmth of my breath upon her nipple. I let one hand wander around her other breast, teasing it, sliding my fingers lightly around her, giving her chills. My other hand was sliding up and down her inner thigh, as she spread her legs wider insinuating her need for my touch. She was biting her lip and tightening her grip on the bedpost above her head. Her back was arching, her groans growing deeper. My fingers were playing closer and closer to where she wanted them. I could feel her moist and my body was starting to dance with her rhythm of angst. I grabbed her thigh and dug my fingers deep into her skin, her face tightened as I brought her breast inside my mouth caressing it with my tongue. My other hand had all fingers wrapped around her breast, swaying to the motion of her aching body. I slipped inside of her and she let out a loud moan. Her back arched even higher then, and she threw her hands upon my back, dragging her nails across my skin.

Indulgence.

1 . Atrial fibrillation.

2. Very early diastolic  ventricualr ectopic beats

3. Some patients with Pacemaker.

The mechanism is  , the ventricular contractions are  too weak and unable to open the aortic valve  , but at the same time they are good enough to close the mitral valve. To open the aortic valve it has to generate atleast 60-80 mmhg pressure , while mitral valve closes even  as LV generates  8-14mmhg  .(LV/LA pressure cross over). So intermitently the  second heart sound  is missed while S1 is retained,  producing more heart sounds and less pulse count in the peripehery. The S1 is either felt or heard at the apex but the corresponding pulse is missing . Further this intermittent absence of  S2  results in totally irregular S1 /S 2 relation.

Why some of the contractions of LV is too weak to open the aortic valve ?

Because the RR interval varies , the ventricualr filling also varies , diastole duration is constantly changing

some of the diastole are too short  and LV hardly gets filled , as the LV force of contraction is directly

decided by the LVEDV and LV  fibre length these contractions are too weak. 

Other published studies

There has been some doppler observations ,where there is a midventricular LV blood flow reversal in atrial fibrillation that could  explain the pulse deficit . Mechanism of production of pulse deficit in atrial fibrillation: assessment by blood flow dynamics

Second Department of Internal Medicine, Kagoshima University School of Medicine.

 http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/3221309

What is the clincal signiifcance of pulse deficit ?

Currently there is no great clinical significance of this phenomenon.

But an astute clinician will pick up this sign and it may indicate underlying LV dysfunction .

and in patients with PPM,   suggests  pacemaker malfunction .Some patients with cardiac tamponde &  pulsus paradoxus  systolic  blood pressure falls too low to make the pulse feeble or not palpable in the periphery .This situation may mimick a pulse deficit if not recognised.

Dr.S.Venkatesan ,Madras Medical College , Chennai, India

Last week found me doing very little writing at all. A few paragraphs here or there is all that I managed even though I started working on some new posts for my cooking blog. I have new recipes ready to be put up I just seem to be procrastinating on actually doing it. Which seems to be my SOP for the last week or so. I am avoiding writing.

I read somewhere that you know that your a writer when you actively look for other things to do to keep you from writing. In other words writers will do anything to avoid writing...

I know that doesn't seem to make sense, but when I first read that (wish I could remember what book it was in-I recall being at Barnes and Noble when I read it though) I completely understood what it meant.

I've been crocheting, cooking, web surfing...anything to not actually write. Though last night I did manage, while watching the Olympic swimming and gymnastic events to move Pulse along nicely. I was quite surprised at the turn-around response from my co-writer (about 10 minutes after my initial post to the thread).

I think I am going to set a small goal for this evening. I am going to sit down and do some brainstorming. I apologize in advance if I end up absent for the next day or so. My brain may have exploded...

*pets pretty, pretty book*

Also, I got around 700 words done today. That hardly seems like a lot, but it is a nail on the wall and I can build from it.  I think Wynn is building his lover up to be a masochist.  It is going to be interesting later on in the book when Tavish finds out that's what is going on.

Or he may turn out to be a raving masochist from the very get-go.  I'm rather fond of those.

Mood for the day 5 out of 10

Official Site | Myspace | Youtube

Swimming through a beautifully crafted eclectic blend of atmospheric rock, balanced by the upbeat funky dance beats that call for my feet to jump out from under me to start dancing.  Their sound covers a lot of ground, and cannot justly be described in a number of words that will hold your attention.  Their latest release Cold Blooded, Warm Breaded is one of the best sounding independently recorded albums I have heard in a long time.  Beyond their ability to lay down tracks, see Ingredients live and they surely will not disappoint.

Myspace | Band Site | CD Baby

psychedelic weird/pop rock with a heavy chameleon influence. An imaginative concept record that depicts the highs and the lows of human emotions, using the medium of sonic explosions and poetic imagery (Cd Baby)

• Large rockets for space travel, predecessors in Germany during WWII
• Connections to literature and film, parallel with nuclear power
• Jules Verne “From the Earth to the Moon” and H.G. Wells “The First Men on the Moon”
• German technological superiority, Werner Von Braun
• Solid fuel rocketry in 10th century China
• Germans amateur rocket program, secrecy, slave labor
• US and Russian acquisition of German rocket scientists
• Peenemunde: pulse jet engines, rocket planes, aerial torpedoes, ballistic missiles
• Hitler’s interest in “wonder weapons”
• German military and private-sector involvement
• German “rocket race” parallel with American “nuclear bomb race”
• Luftwaffe, convention, institutional momentum, radical ideas
• Propeller planes, speed limits and jets

After the War

• 1957, “Sputnik”, Russian satellite, space race, hydrogen bombs
• Series of orbital launches, moon mission (1969), gigantic rockets
• Exploration and destiny
• Costs of space exploration and social responsibility
• Challenger disaster (1986), Columbia disaster (2003)
• New US agenda, space station, colony on the moon, eventually Mars
• Colonization and commercial exploitation of space

Unmanned Space Exploration

• Putting people in space requires:
• Air
• Food
• Water
• Shielding from radiation
• Ability to return home
• Acceptance of risk to human life
• Manned spaceflight is dangerous and expensive
• Military missions, public interest, “No bucks without Buck Rogers”
• Marginalized science, cheaper unmanned missions
• Dangerous scientific experiments
• Space based scientific research has proven unproductive
• Helium 3 harvesting, gasoline
• Robotics and space exploration, telecommunications, cybernetic control, robotics and computing
• Astronomical research, commercial applications and people
• Social costs of spending on manned space exploration
• Anasari X prize of 10 million, Burt Ruttan
• Two stage system, a “plane” (White Knight), and a rocket (Space Ship One)
• Rockets and fuel, cost of manned space exploration
• Space tourism
• Flip wing reentry system, duplication of cockpits, reduced training time

Personally, I'm a bit sick of it, but if it does it for you, and you'd like some ready-baked creepiness, here's a formula. 

Elements of my newly patented checklist can be seen in the aforementioned videos (and ALL the following examples after the jump!), and pretty much any shitty horror movie that's come out in the last few years. (For some great specific ones, check out Pulse, Blair Witch 2: Book of Shadows, and House on Haunted Hill. That's just for starters.) Though I personally haven't checked into this, desiring to retain a few brain cells, but odds are also good that these will make appearances in goth-poetry (Sorry, guys. I like you, but you take yourselves way too seriously.), and while I'm not sure, probably Dean Koontz novels. Some other fine examples of the pioneers of this aesthetic are Clive Barker and Edward Gorey. 

The formula lies... beyond the jump.

His Highness' Big, Generic Horror Checklist

1. Protagonist must be either be a) waifish, vulnerable, or freakish in some way, b) hot chick who can barely act, or c) your average dude WHO'S BEEN PUSHED TO THE LIMIT. This is assuming a standard narrative, and not montage. Note: Option A is an excellent way to corral them gothy types. No hatin', but they love that shit. Witness Jack Skellington, the main protagonist from The Corpse Bride, and pretty much any Johnny Depp character in a Tim Burton film. Option C is great for zombie flicks. B is your B-movie standard. 

Option A: Man, he is both fey AND waifish!

 Option B: Kirsten Bell. Magically babe-licious.

and, the classic, Option C: Will Smith. 

2. If a film, include stop-motion. Or any kind of Linda Blair-like movement. That shit be creepy.

3. Ambience must be dirty, grimy and abandoned. Also, things should be rotting, decaying, etc. Ideally, it should also be a hospital. Or some medical sort of place. Empty insane asylums= an excellent place to start. It should scream, "place where man and industrial cleaner fears to tread."  

 Creepy! A place where man fears to wheel downstairs. 

4. This one is important, so pay attention! EXTRA-PALE PEOPLE = SCARY. This is a well respected law in horror cinema, and literature, and pretty much anything that wants to creep you out. It goes even as far back (and probably further) as the cult classic Carnival of Souls. 'Course, that's a genuinely creepy movie. Like Rod Stirling on a bad trip. But in any case, don't trust any extra honky motherfuckers. Whitey's probably the bad guy. History, horror cinema or otherwise, should have taught you that. (You just got burned, white folks. Oh, it's okay, I can say that: my BEST friend is white. And he's cool with it.) This principle is also big in Japanese horror, or adaptations of it. Witness The Ring (RIngu) or The Grudge (Ju-on) for fine examples. Which will lead us to our next, time-honored example. 

Ok. That is pretty scary. But, in the interest of maintaining a deadpan, I'll make a joke. OH SHIT A PUN

Every guy's worst nightmare. Gives a whole new meaning to demonspawn. Paternity test, ASAP! Phew. Not mine. It's Lucifer's. 

5. LITTLE KIDS ARE SCARY AS FUCK. Fear and little kids go hand in hand. Who wasn't freaked the fuck out by the twins in The Shining, or that terrifyingly adorable child-demon in the picture above? And if you don't actually include a kid, invoking / perverting some aspect of childhood is a mainstay. It's also a really facile way of indicating madness (kids chanting nursery rhymes, etc...) This one is both still creepy, when done well, and really annoying, when done poorly. 

Playing house and pick up sticks forever? A fate worse than death. 

6. Throw down some BDSM. Nothing says horror like restraints and leather. This one's straight from the books and films of Clive Barker. Hellraiser was the first film I saw that I picked this up on, and you can see elements in it pretty much in every movie since, or in the Tool videos, or in horror novels, or horror comics-- it's everywhere. You can also see it in the art of H.R. Giger, especially in his designs for the movie Alien. Taking pleasure in pain (pretty understandably) scares people. Adding sex & fear together creates a distinctly unsettling, and vaguely dirty feeling that adds to our already grimy and bizarre setting. It's a small touch of the alien (for most) in our midst. 

Don't forget to work the nipples and ears. 

7. Decay, rotting stuff, general corruption of the flesh. Anything that fundamentally alters our appearance is really frightening to us. Especially if it's gooey. (I will now enter analytical mode. Feel free to move on down.) Basically, it's the rendering of ourselves foreign and unknown to ourselves, becoming alien to our self-perception. This applies to Mark Powell's artwork. And that is a really scary concept, beyond just the superficial fear of becoming ugly, but the latter's scary, too. Ugliness brings isolation, pariah-status, as does the appearance of disease. This is the bit in the zombie movie when you get bitten... and it's all over. You're one of them now. Then you get your head blown off, and that sucks. 

"PEEEEPS......PP...PEEEPS......."

8. MONSTERS! MONSTERS! MONSTERS! WHEE! They represent the introduction of the alien into our life. And the odds are good they want to eat our souls. Or at least take a nibble at the meatier bits of us. A monster can be anything; a zombie, a serial-killer, (both of which are also examples of the above point- the corrosion of their humanity makes them into the fundamentally different other) a werewolf, a demon, an experiment gone awry, anything: a monster is the literal representation of the other. Ooh, don't forget about freaks-- like in Tod Browning's Freaks! And they're physically threatening, too. Here are some of my favorite!

The devil made me wear this shitty costume!

Okay. A Nightmare on Elm Street is just one of the most awesome horror movies ever. You should know that. No joke. 

He's big. He's bad. And he hates premarital sex. Ladies and gentlemen, the handsome, the immortal, JASON VOORHEES!

9. Ancient secrets, myth, old stuff, old people, shit that's from the past. I guess this sort of overlaps with 3, but nobody wants to come home to find mistakes they made 10 years ago sitting on their couching sipping a juice-box. Tossing in a bit of folklore adds the flavor of something primal, primitive and therefore, something we don't understand. Since we're such bright, modernized domesticated primates, our own past frightens us. It's why the Republican party invokes the will of our Founding Fathers so much. If it's old, it's got some kind of weight and merit. Mythology is scary for that reason, and because if it turns out to be true, what we know and understand is completely broken down. That's a huge part of horror; destroying the boundaries where we remain comfortable and placing us into realms we don't fully comprehend. Also, if you throw in stuff from the Victorian era, you get elements of both waifishness AND BDSM (True fact: Victorians were way into BDSM. No joke. Here's another example.) Also, Victorian flashbacks are a great excuse to use that sepia filter. Or toss in a bit of steampunk. So, what dark secrets does the past, our very own Necronomicon, hold?

Don't forget the three code words:

Klaatu...Verata...*Coughcoughcough*

10. Come on guys, do I even need to say it? THE DARK. This shit takes place at night, a dungeon, an unlit building, or in a mist, like the PSX game Silent Hill, which is a great example of many of the items on this list. Anything that keeps our vision obscured and lets us get that money shot of something popping out of nowhere to scream in our faces. 

(thanks to this blog for the image)

So there you have it. Ten easy steps to insta-horror. Anything I've forgotten, or anything else that too many horror movies do these days that pisses you off?Leave me a note. 

Oh, and a disclaimer. I love horror movies. I love horror comics, I love the whole bloody genre. I wouldn't have been able to write this if I didn't. I like everything I've made fun of here. So don't get your panties in a twist. 

His Highness is an avid horror lover, two-time dater of goth girls, and white-boy himself.

So I'm pretty sure FF7 heavily influenced that dream that I had. Speaking of which, I finished the first disk last night. Cloud's level at disk finish: 65. I'unno 'bout you folks, but I think that is very ridiculous. No one should ever be that high a level at the end of disk one. I still have two more disks to go. :3 Alas, there are sunny days in Gaia and Biggles is leading the way. Oh Biggles. Oh you.

We went to see The Mummy last night. It was alright. I don't think it was as bad as everyone else said. I mean, it wasn't amazing, but it had entertainment value. We were super lame and discussing vidja games before the movie started. :B

Speaking of vidja games, I think I'm going to make another page or two cataloging which games I have for which console and my current status on those games (finished, incomplete, not started, etc.). Partly for people if they're curious if I have something that they want to borrow, partly for me so I can keep perspective on what needs doing. I might do the same thing for my books, but this list will be missing a lot of things that I've read because I haven't kept all of my books throughout the years, so I could only put down the ones I still have. Anyway, I might do this today while I try to think of a topic for my paper. Maybe it will come to me while I do menial tasks of sorts.

[2:47pm]

Two new pages have been added and can be found under the "Pages" widget on the side (with my current theme "Benevolence", that would be on the left) under the "Search" widget. The first new page is as promised- a Video Game page cataloging all my video games (well, so far, I have to wait until I can access my Wii to get the virtual console games and stuff) and my completion status for them.

The second page I added was a Wishlist. I figured it'd be a good idea when keeping my thoughts and wants in check. So if you ever need to buy me something (or want to, I guess), you can check the wishlist for ideas. It'll be updated as I think of things or remember them, so don't worry if anything on there seems unattainable for you, I only just started it. I'll add more eventually.

Still no ideas for a paper.

[4:22pm]

Also added a Movies page for your perusing pleasure.

You know what would be really awesome though? If I could get it to stop filing under fucking category 64. I never created a category 64 and I keep going in and deleting it, but it just keeps filing it there. FUCK OFF 64.

The first part, I was on a camping trip with my old Zellers coworkers. We were all in a fairly large size trailer and were making dinner. For SOME reason, Sarika was camping with us (and she was wearing her Pikachu shirt. Just thought I'd specify that). Anyway, we were all sitting there eating when Shawn comes up to the door and is like, "C'mon guys," and every took off. Sarika and I were confused but we started putting our dishes away and stuff, ending up being the last ones in the trailer. Someone from far away outside yelled "HURRY UP YOU TWO! YOU'LL MISS THE PICTURE!" so we threw the rest of our dishes in the sink and looked outside. Apparently they were taking a group picture. So Sarika and I ran out and had to stand in the back 'cause we were late, and we felt sad 'cause we were short so no one would see us. For some reason, there was a parking garage nearby in the middle of this forest, and Karen had us all move forward so we were under the overhang of the parking garage. For some reason, the Asian kids from a lot of my classes were there taking the picture with us. They, for some reason, kept hanging back which allowed Sarika and I to sneak in behind everyone else who was kneeling so that we could be seen. After taking the picture, we all stayed in picture... stance, and Karen came up to me with a big bag of frozen breaded chicken and was like, "Is this yours? Did you bring this?" and I said yes. And she kept saying how Tara can't eat it (I don't know why o.O) and that I shouldn't have brought. I told her that there were plenty of other things there to eat and just because I brought it doesn't mean she has to eat it.

The dream ended there and switched to another one.

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(Trying a new format here)

People involved:
Cam, Gina, Sandra (Sandra Banda. My friend from Colorado. Don't ask, I have NO clue why she was in this dream)

Additional information:
Okay. I've had recurring dreams lately (I haven't written them down though 'cause I can't remember enough of them by the time I wake up, just flashes) that Cam and I kick some serious ass. Like. We're ass-kickers. We often go out and take on our own missions to save something or infiltrate something to get important information. Y'know. Hardcore action hero spy shit. In this dream, we were, once again, hardcore action hero spies.

Dream:
It started out with Cam and I receiving a call from my friend Sandra. Apparently, she had been taken to this huuuuuge corporate building and didn't know where she was or how to get out. Now, this corporation/building reminds me a lot of the Shinra company building, as well as what they do. It was a huuuuuge building that was all business, except for the first floor. The first floor was a huge, very pretty mall. Sandra was in the mall part.

So I get the call and tell Cam and we're like, "well obviously we have to go get her. She's pregnant." (Apparently, Sandy is pregnant... o.O). So Cam and I take off - I don't know what happened after that because we just kind of appeared at this building. On the top floor. Why the top floor? Well, anyway. We started to make our way down, taking out guards with our awesome martial arts and whatnot. A couple floors down, we got to this living quarters area. We had to go through someone's room to get to the next floor unsuspected, apparently, so we went in. This family has been in my dream before, but again, just bits of it that I couldn't remember enough to write down. Anyway, this family was an abusive husband, a wife and a daughter (in one of the dreams, I was a guest-daughter in their home for some reason). Anyway, apparently these dreams were somehow connected, because dream-me knew that he was an abusive asshole. So I went over to him and started wailing on him, but for some reason, it wasn't affecting him at all. It was like every hit I landed was just deflected. He continued to sit there and snarl at me for "being so weak." Anyway, I snarled back at him and Cam said, "C'mon, we need to go," so we went down the stairs.

The next floor we ended up on was like.... a GIANT Blockbuster (people perusing included). There were movie rentals and game rentals and arcade machines all over the place. We went down the stairs and the next couple of floors were just like it- giant movie rental... spaces. The last one we came to had a giant escalator going down the middle. While looking at it, I lost sight of Cam. I thought that maybe he went downstairs. It turned out there were actually many escalators in the same spot, but I only saw the biggest, most awkward one. The escalator steps were HUGE and extremely far apart from each other. It was a bit difficult getting to the next floor down (which was an extension of the movie rental area from above) and only when I got down there did I notice the other, easier escalators. I looked for Cam on the next level, but he was nowhere to be found. So I went down the next set of stairs. This staircase brought me to the mall area.

I walked out from the stair well and on a bench not far was Sandy. She stood up and we hugged. I asked her if she had tried to go outside yet (as since the bottom floor was a mall, there were exits everywhere that you were allowed to go in and out from as you please) but she said she hadn't because she didn't recognize outside and was afraid to leave somewhere where I could find her. I asked her how far along her pregnancy was, just in case we had to do some running or light jogging to get away from pursuers. She said she was about three months. So we went outside into the parking lot and I looked around. It was like this whole area was encased in a giant biodome- sunlight and such were still coming in, but there was glass (or plastic or something, I'unno) around the whole area (whole area being like... the city). As we were standing there surveying the area, we made various comments of not knowing where we were, when this old guy came near as he was heading to his car. He informed us that we were in Calgary and that it's silly that we didn't know. We both wondered how we ended up in Calgary. A minivan pulled up to the curb and a group of people from the parking lot went over to talk to the person in the van. On the other side of the group was Gina, standing on the curb-y area like us and apparently waiting for a ride. I went over and talked to her, as well as the group of people talking to the van. We talked about how we were from BC and that the Calgary streets and street signs were much nicer than ours (lol what?).

After a bit, I saw Cam come out of the building. I called over to him and he just looked at me and walked the other way. I told Sandy to wait with Gina and I ran after him. He started to run away from me. As I got closer, I realized that he was wearing some weird bright green track suit and that, all of a sudden, he had gotten really fat. I was really confused but I kept running after him. He was like... climbing walls and shit and everything in all his fat glory. After a while I stopped calling his name as we ran and started yelling, "WHY?" I caught up to him eventually in a Husky gas station. Once I grabbed on to him, he gave up running because he knew I could've stopped him. I grabbed his shoulders and said, "Why? Why? Why? WHY?" over and over again. Some guy came up to us and was like, "What are you doing? At least use his name," (I have no idea why) and I looked at the guy and was like, "That IS his name!" So... apparently Cam's name became Why.

There was a big time skip here where somehow, we all got home safely. Cam and I apparently live together. Cam (Or... Why?) wasn't thrilled about being taken back home. He was like... weirdly brainwashed or something (and still fat). But as long as I watched him, he didn't try to run away. Finally I needed some sleep, so I tied Cam to his bed so he couldn't escape. I went back to my room and curled up on my bed, hugging a giant pillow. Then I thought about Cam and how he wasn't the same Cam I knew and loved. I didn't know if he would ever return to the way he was. I cried myself to sleep, which is when I woke up.