December 20th, 2007

gen - botulism

(no subject)

hopechan takes tally of her day, in the form of a game of AMAZING/NOT AMAZING.

NOT AMAZING: Viruses. Not that I have one, I was just pondering. I mean, I've been taking computer science for the past four months now, and I simply do not comprehend what would make someone spend their time on it. Now, I get the people who write programs for a living. That's like punching yourself in the face because someone paid you fifty bucks. I get that. But people who sit down and devote their time to writing viruses? That's like punching yourself in the face to gross out all the standers-by with the sight of your blood. That's just silly.

Context is not looking forward to the day's (NOT AMAZING!) impending freezing rain.

There should be fair warning

From the "funny" and "occasionally deep" files, vito_excalibur reflects on the temptations of the "flag" button:

Man, those little "Flag this journal" links are too bright red and easy. They're a temptation. I want to flag your journal. But the categories are inadequate. There are other things besides nudity that people should be warned of. I want to flag your journal as thought-provoking. Do not read this journal if you just want a two minute break before the next task. It will occupy your brain for the next twenty minutes. People need to know in advance. I want to flag your journal as a troll farm. I want to flag your journal as not as good as it used to be. There should be fair warning. I want to flag my journal as irresponsible mischief-making, because now you are wondering if it's your journal I'm talking about. Statistically speaking, probably not. I want to flag your journal as required reading if you want to make sense of what's going on in the latest fandom political discussion. I want to flag your journal as a vicious trainwreck pleasure with a creamy schadenfreude filling. I want to flag your journal as soul-killingly cynical - do not read unless you have immediate access to fluffy kittens or similar antidote. I want to flag your journal as the posts of an extremely skilled writer with a malevolent agenda; time-release mental poison. I want to put you behind an intermediate page: "Yes, I understand the concept of the Unreliable Narrator: let me in." - "No, please return me to the rest of the internet, that I may learn from example."

QWP and mad fangirling.

(no subject)

chiller made this post about the pursuit of happiness

...I was thoroughly reminded that happiness has no footnotes, that it resides in simple things and in the present and in the self and in your capacity to love and be honest, and in sharing simple good times with others, and that if you truly look for it you will always find it, but if you cling to it or hunt it down or place conditions on it, it goes bad in your hands.
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    peaceful peaceful
Doink Doink.

I type 'meatquotes' half the time myself. Yes, I'm aware.

So, for the entire Advent season, I've been wrestling with that age-old existential question, the very same that have haunted humankind for countless generations since the birth of Christ himself: just how many presents can I expect for Christmas? No, seriously. Have I been good enough this past year to warrant waking up the morning of the twenty-fifth, awash in gifts and toys handcrafted by none other than Santa's elves, swaddled in colorfully festive packaging? Or will I check my stocking Christmas day, only to find it full to the brim with Unchi-kun and friends, possibly donated for the cause by Rudolph & Co.?

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