Author's note: In case you're wondering why this session is so short, we spent half of the time talking about having Mal hax0r the shareware Boccob's Blessed Book and trying to figure out whether we could buy an Amulet of Farspeaking that could cross planes. Gamers. So weird.
Without so much as a word, the adventurers began silently preparing for a fight. Talan glanced across the clearing and realized Haden was staring right at him—the aasling looked quickly away, but Talan understood. “Haden knows we’re here,” he whispered.
“So what am I supposed to do with these rocks, anyway?” Haden said loudly, startling even the fiends in the clearing. “Stick them together?”
“Yes,” Margone replied. She reached down to lift what looked like a small bird cage. “It takes energy, though. Energy which I’m all too happy to provide.” Haden rolled the Eye of Dawn and a different stone, this one jet-black, around in his hands, his expression distant. Suddenly, they began to glow.
“What is he doing?” Sheen demanded, whispering.
“What are you DOING?!” Margone demanded across the clearing.
“Don’t distract me,” Haden said. The adventurers exchanged a look and sprang into the clearing, then the world suddenly went white in a blaze of power. Instantly, they were stumbling over furniture. When their vision cleared, they realized they were all in the living room of their house.
“Ha ha!” Haden shouted. “It worked!” He chucked the stones onto the couch with a disgusted look, picked up Sheen, and began dancing around the room.
“Um, well done . . . I think,” Talan said, extricating himself from an armchair.
“What did you DO?!” Sheen demanded. Haden put her down.
“A lesson for everyone: never hand the artifacts of ultimate power to someone who hates your guts.” His grin began to fade a bit as he realized Mal was glaring furiously at him. “Sorry,” he said, now a bit sheepish. “I didn’t know what else to do. They would have killed all of us if I hadn’t agreed to take the stones, and then when I had them I could sense . . . something. They seemed almost alive, so I, well, sort of persuaded them that we ought to be here instead of there.”
“And they just . . . made it happen?” Joris asked.
“They got through the boundary protecting Sigil, even,” Kal said. “Frightening.”
“What boundary?” Sheen asked.
“The one that prevents dimensional travel except through the portals,” Kal said patiently.
“I guess they did,” Haden said, “I wasn’t sure it would work, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Mal raised a hand and pointed at him furiously, causing the startled Haden to recoil.
“You left her.”
“I did? It looks like everyone is here.”
“You LEFT her!”
“The Lady of Mirrors,” Kal said to Haden’s blank look.
“Oh,” Haden said quietly.
“I’m going back after her,” Mal announced. “I can open the portal myself.”
“I’m sorry, Mal, It just didn’t occur to me to bring her along,” Haden said as the warlock stormed out of the house.
“We shouldn’t just let him go alone,” Talan said. “They won’t be expecting us to go right back, anyway. It’s at least as safe as here.” The stones on the couch hummed briefly, then went silent. Kal picked one up curiously.
“Be careful with those, Kal, they were quiescent before but I think they’ve woken up,” Haden warned.
“She’s doing something,” Kal said, startled.
“If we’re going to follow Mal we should tell Hexla and Yolette to stay somewhere safe until we get back,” Sheen interrupted.
“It’s gone. She’s done it.” Kal said.
“Kal, what are you talking about?” Haden demanded, grabbing the wizard’s arm. He blinked and looked up at Haden.
“Margone just killed Uin the Unseeing, and Thazia along with him. This just showed me.”
“Then where is Mal going?” Sheen asked, horrified.
“Maybe the portal simply won’t work,” Kal offered.
“We can’t count on that!” Talan cried.
Sheen and Haden ran for the street. Talan grabbed Kal and pulled him along, since the wizard seemed inclined to stay and commune with the stones a bit longer. Kal finally dropped them into his haversack, not wanting to wave them around in the street. “This way,” Haden said, ducking into an alley. “I know a shortcut.” They dodged and ducked down some of Sigil’s more bizarre side-streets.
“Was that a demodand service station for Arcadian Ponycabs?” Kal protested as he was pulled along. “Bizarre.”
They found Mal outside Chinzpeter’s Used Clothing trying to open the portal. Fortunately it appeared nothing was happening. Frustrated, Mal waved his hands and eldritch power arced into the shop, evoking a startled scream.
“Mal, stop!” Sheen yelled. The warlock whirled, his eyes ablaze with eldritch power.
“You left her with them!”
“She wouldn’t want you to throw your life away,” Talan insisted.
Mal turned to look over at Kalenthor. “The stones . . .” he said desperately.
“They won’t help, Mal. Thazia is gone.”
“If they brought us here, they can take me back!”
“Before Margone murdered Uin and unmade the entire world, maybe they could have. Come on, we should leave,” Kal insisted, extending a hand. Mal pushed past him into the street, flaring power randomly.
“She treated him like a pet,” Haden muttered, watching the warlock rage.
“Do pets not love their masters?” Kal asked.
“Slaves should not be loyal,” Haden replied. “So what next? We have both of the stones, but can we do anything with them?”
“Can’t you ‘read’ them?” Talan asked.
Haden shook his head emphatically. “I’m not trying mortal powers on things like that. For all I know, it might bring the universe to an end.”
“It would be best to destroy them,” Sheen said, “but somehow I don’t think that will be possible.”
“My mother believes that the stones were instrumental in bringing this universe about . . . and that they can be used to unmake it and create a new one.” Joris winced. “Yeah, a universe in Margone’s image. Isn’t that a pleasant thought.” Haden sighed. “I don’t think she was lying, but I could be wrong.”
“Then they’ll try to get them back, right?” Joris asked after clearing his throat nervously.
“They’ll either come after the stones or Alocer will come up with a new plan. Maybe both.”
“If we try to hide them away, sooner or later someone will stumble on them,” Sheen said. “Lock them in a vault, and someone will figure a way to break in. There’s just nothing responsible you can do with power like that.”
Haden rubbed his forehead tiredly. “I don’t think Alocer’s people are all in agreement over what to do with the stones, though. Maybe we can get them to fight each other, somehow. Hey, Kal, do you know if it’s possible to locate the stones using magic?”
Kal looked up from where he was speaking with Mal. The warlock was tucking the stones into his bag and looking a bit calmer. “They’re artifacts. Maybe Legend Lore would work. If they’re close enough a simple locate object spell would suffice.”
“I thought it wasn’t possible to use common divinations on most artifacts.”
Kal shrugged. “I slept through most of my divination classes. I never liked the idea of knowing what was going to happen. I’d rather be surprised.”
“Standing here in the street accomplishes nothing,” Mal said sharply. “At least we can retrieve our belongings before they raze the house.”
“We may want to leave Sigil,” Haden said. “It’s safest for our friends to stay where there’s people, but it’s probably safer for us if we go somewhere remote.”
“I may know of a place,” Mal said.
“Can’t we bring Hexla with us?” Talan asked back at the house while they packed quickly. Hexla and Yolette were also preparing to leave.
“We can use magic to check on her, but if Hexla comes with us she might get caught in the crossfire,” Haden said quietly.
“I know,” Talan said. “I just hate that I can’t be there to protect her. What if we’re wrong and she’s not safe here?”
“They don’t care about Hexla or Yolette or Kalisa. They won’t kill them because it won’t help them find us. But if they’ve already found us, all bets are off.”
“Are we ready?” Mal asked. “There is a demiplane, Glenloch, where we should be safe for a time.”
“I’ve always wanted to make one of those,” Kal remarked.
About Me
Apr 6, 2009
Cold Blood: Session 44
Sheen glared at the empty doorway in frustration. “Well, if you want to get Joris, then get him!”
“He is on his way,” Mal intoned. Within twenty minutes, Joris came jogging up the street. He looked tired and worn and had evidently given up shaving, but his face brightened at the sight of them.
“Well met,” he said.
“Are you having some sort of problem you haven’t told us about?”
“Numeledes passed overnight,” he explained. “I’ve been keeping a vigil, then I took him to the Mortuary . . .”
“Maybe he will bring us souvenirs when he returns,” Mal remarked gracelessly. Kal shot him a quelling glance.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Sheen said, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in it.
“It was his time. That doesn’t make it much easier, but that’s the way things are,” Joris explained.
“It sounds like you have enough on your plate without going to Thazia with us,” Sheen said.
“Oh, no. Firil said she would watch the Circle, and Kalisa’s slipped away again, so I’m actually free for now. I think she was going to hide that tiefling Noxana somewhere. Say, where’s Haden?”
“He decided to scout ahead,” Sheen explained. “If you want to come along, lets go, but I think you shouldn’t. You have no business risking your life right now.”
Kal shook his head and concentrated, reopening the portal. Joris shrugged and stepped through, followed quickly by Mal, Sheen, and Kalenthor. A feeling of great unease settled over them as they emerged in a graveyard under an ashen sky.
“Hmm,” Kal said. “Ambient.”
The graves were violated and empty, the stone doors of mausoleums lying broken. Beyond the wreckage of the wrought-iron gate they could see the charred remains of a village, and beyond that a vast, smoking plain stretching in all directions. Sheen shouldered her pack and began walking toward the village.
“Haden?” Kal called out nervously, looking around the desolate village. The buildings were empty and abandoned, only one remaining relatively intact. “Anyone?”
Sheen pulled a piece of paper off the door of the building. “It’s Haden’s writing. It looks like he went toward the forest . . . what forest?” She turned the message around in her hands a few times, then pointed. “That way, I think. He sort of drew a map, but he’s not exactly an artist.”
Kal shook his head. “He moved pretty quickly, then.”
Mal glanced up from his silent contemplations. “Time moves faster here than in Sigil. Hours or even days may have passed while we waited.”
“Then we’d better go,” Sheen said just as a shriveled corpse stumbled out of the building, its empty eyesockets oozing vile black ichor. Sheen stumbled backward into Joris as the creature wailed, a hideous sound that seemed to rattle the bones in her skull. Kal recoiled and turned as he heard another creature approaching. He chanted quickly and leveled a finger, shooting a greenish ray. It vanished in a puff of foul dust.
Mal hurled eldritch energy at the wailing corpse, splattering black ichor on Sheen and Joris. A bright flash illuminated the top of the building and magical missiles streaked toward the warlock, striking sparks where they impacted his armor. Sheen shouldered past her attacker and vaulted up the side of the building even as Joris raised his holy symbol. The undead attackers shrank away, burning, but the creature on the rooftop seemed unmoved. It raised its arms to begin another spell and Sheen saw that it was missing a hand. She buried her claws in its legs and pulled, catapulting it off the roof. It landed with a gristly crack and Mal dispatched it with a flare of eldritch energy.
“Let’s get out of here now before more of them show up,” Sheen said, jumping down to the ground. Talan was already hurrying away through the rotting village, having picked up some trail or other. Mal and Kalenthor hurried to follow. “Come on, Joris!” Sheen insisted.
“One minute!” he replied over his shoulder, bending to examine the corpses. “I think that thing was an aspect—a minor manifestation of a deity. Like the one we fought in Plague-Mort.”
“Really?” Sheen asked, pulling on his arm until he rejoined the group. “What deity?”
“I’m not very familiar with this one. I looked it up after Tulio mentioned the ‘chained god’ in Waterdeep, but there’s hardly anything about it even in Sigil’s libraries. His name is Vecna—he was a wizard-tyrant who became a lich. Now he’s a quasi-deity or a demigod or something. He’s a god of secrets, so it’s no surprise that there’s not much to find. Apparently he lost something—a relic, his hand or his eye—his cult was searching for it in Thazia. Whether they found it or not, the cultists are long gone. Er, I hope.”
“We’ll keep an eye out,” Kal quipped. “Maybe we can give them a hand.” Joris groaned.
“Well, in any case Haden seems to have avoided the undead,” Sheen said hopefully.
The scorched plain was very flat, almost unnaturally so. As they walked, they could see the occasional mob of undead in the distance, but they wandered mindlessly and were easy enough to avoid. Hours passed, marked only by increasing exhaustion, and they were forced to stop and rest.
“The gloom has lightened a little,” Talan said. “I think the sun may be up.”
“Feeble as it is, it ought to keep the worst of the undead in hiding for now,” Joris offered, sinking to the ground. There was no shelter, but there wasn’t really any need for shelter, either.
“We don’t know yet whether the undead are the worst of it, though,” Sheen said, but she found a place to sit as well. Mal and Kal joined her in meditation while Joris and Talan napped, Joris snoring loudly. They awoke around midafternoon, when the ashy sunlight was brightest.
“I can attempt to contact Haden for you, Sheen,” Mal said with unusual clarity.
“No, let’s wait,” Sheen said. “If he’s doing anything important you may distract him.”
“Then we should be off,” the warlock said. Talan searched around to find the tracks again, not much fainter than the previous day, and they began walking. Kal looked around at the desolate landscape sadly.
“This world must have had heroes, don’t you think?” Talan asked.
“They don’t seem to have done a very good job,” Sheen grumped.
Kal frowned. “The time for Thazia’s heroes is long past. The world has been dying for a long time—the fiends only needed to give it a push. It may not be too late for alien heroes, though.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sheen said. “I’m not here to save Thazia; I have other problems.”
The ruined forest grew slowly on the horizon. Most of the trees were dead, and those that weren’t clearly would be soon. Haden’s tracks led them to a spot where several trees had fallen, knocked down by something large. Many corpses lay scattered among the splintered stumps.
“Wow, he took them on himself?” Kal wondered. “I’m impressed.”
Sheen pointed at a damp section of ground. “I’ve never known Haden to produce large puddles of acid, though.”
“No, but a black dragon might,” Talan said.
“Are you sure?” Mal asked. “How big of a dragon?”
Talan wandered around the impromptu clearing for a few moments, gauging the damage. “An adult at least, I’d say. The dragon went off, to the north, and it looks like Haden followed it at a distance. Its progress was really erratic, though. Something was wrong with it.”
“What might vex a dragon?” Mal asked.
“Confusion?” Kal suggested. “Maybe Haden?”
“It’s really not his style,” Sheen said. “And, well, he’s really not that powerful.”
Kal sucked air through his teeth. “Betzalel could have done it.”
Joris blinked, startled. “You saw him?”
“Briefly,” Kal explained. “He threw confusion on us and then teleported. It was unpleasant. We should make haste.”
The dragon’s wake was easy enough to follow, but it veered sharply westward as it reached the boundary of a grove of living trees. The leaves of the trees were silvery, polished like mirrors. “Haden’s tracks lead in there,” Talan said.
Mal examined the trees. “There is a magical aura here, but it should be safe to pass. I believe it is intended to keep the undead out.”
“A grove of the Lady?” Joris asked.
“This place bears here spirit. There is a clearing further east that she used for gatherings.”
They stepped over the boundary cautiously and moved deeper into the grove. The edge of the clearing appeared ahead, a grayish opening filled with dim twilight. Several people stood in the center—Lady Margone and Betzalel talking to Haden. A short distance from them, a massive red-furred creature with a lion’s head stood with a coterie of barbed devils. Mal gasped suddenly and stared down at his feet. Hidden among the tree roots was the broken body of the Lady of Mirrors.
“He is on his way,” Mal intoned. Within twenty minutes, Joris came jogging up the street. He looked tired and worn and had evidently given up shaving, but his face brightened at the sight of them.
“Well met,” he said.
“Are you having some sort of problem you haven’t told us about?”
“Numeledes passed overnight,” he explained. “I’ve been keeping a vigil, then I took him to the Mortuary . . .”
“Maybe he will bring us souvenirs when he returns,” Mal remarked gracelessly. Kal shot him a quelling glance.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Sheen said, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in it.
“It was his time. That doesn’t make it much easier, but that’s the way things are,” Joris explained.
“It sounds like you have enough on your plate without going to Thazia with us,” Sheen said.
“Oh, no. Firil said she would watch the Circle, and Kalisa’s slipped away again, so I’m actually free for now. I think she was going to hide that tiefling Noxana somewhere. Say, where’s Haden?”
“He decided to scout ahead,” Sheen explained. “If you want to come along, lets go, but I think you shouldn’t. You have no business risking your life right now.”
Kal shook his head and concentrated, reopening the portal. Joris shrugged and stepped through, followed quickly by Mal, Sheen, and Kalenthor. A feeling of great unease settled over them as they emerged in a graveyard under an ashen sky.
“Hmm,” Kal said. “Ambient.”
The graves were violated and empty, the stone doors of mausoleums lying broken. Beyond the wreckage of the wrought-iron gate they could see the charred remains of a village, and beyond that a vast, smoking plain stretching in all directions. Sheen shouldered her pack and began walking toward the village.
“Haden?” Kal called out nervously, looking around the desolate village. The buildings were empty and abandoned, only one remaining relatively intact. “Anyone?”
Sheen pulled a piece of paper off the door of the building. “It’s Haden’s writing. It looks like he went toward the forest . . . what forest?” She turned the message around in her hands a few times, then pointed. “That way, I think. He sort of drew a map, but he’s not exactly an artist.”
Kal shook his head. “He moved pretty quickly, then.”
Mal glanced up from his silent contemplations. “Time moves faster here than in Sigil. Hours or even days may have passed while we waited.”
“Then we’d better go,” Sheen said just as a shriveled corpse stumbled out of the building, its empty eyesockets oozing vile black ichor. Sheen stumbled backward into Joris as the creature wailed, a hideous sound that seemed to rattle the bones in her skull. Kal recoiled and turned as he heard another creature approaching. He chanted quickly and leveled a finger, shooting a greenish ray. It vanished in a puff of foul dust.
Mal hurled eldritch energy at the wailing corpse, splattering black ichor on Sheen and Joris. A bright flash illuminated the top of the building and magical missiles streaked toward the warlock, striking sparks where they impacted his armor. Sheen shouldered past her attacker and vaulted up the side of the building even as Joris raised his holy symbol. The undead attackers shrank away, burning, but the creature on the rooftop seemed unmoved. It raised its arms to begin another spell and Sheen saw that it was missing a hand. She buried her claws in its legs and pulled, catapulting it off the roof. It landed with a gristly crack and Mal dispatched it with a flare of eldritch energy.
“Let’s get out of here now before more of them show up,” Sheen said, jumping down to the ground. Talan was already hurrying away through the rotting village, having picked up some trail or other. Mal and Kalenthor hurried to follow. “Come on, Joris!” Sheen insisted.
“One minute!” he replied over his shoulder, bending to examine the corpses. “I think that thing was an aspect—a minor manifestation of a deity. Like the one we fought in Plague-Mort.”
“Really?” Sheen asked, pulling on his arm until he rejoined the group. “What deity?”
“I’m not very familiar with this one. I looked it up after Tulio mentioned the ‘chained god’ in Waterdeep, but there’s hardly anything about it even in Sigil’s libraries. His name is Vecna—he was a wizard-tyrant who became a lich. Now he’s a quasi-deity or a demigod or something. He’s a god of secrets, so it’s no surprise that there’s not much to find. Apparently he lost something—a relic, his hand or his eye—his cult was searching for it in Thazia. Whether they found it or not, the cultists are long gone. Er, I hope.”
“We’ll keep an eye out,” Kal quipped. “Maybe we can give them a hand.” Joris groaned.
“Well, in any case Haden seems to have avoided the undead,” Sheen said hopefully.
The scorched plain was very flat, almost unnaturally so. As they walked, they could see the occasional mob of undead in the distance, but they wandered mindlessly and were easy enough to avoid. Hours passed, marked only by increasing exhaustion, and they were forced to stop and rest.
“The gloom has lightened a little,” Talan said. “I think the sun may be up.”
“Feeble as it is, it ought to keep the worst of the undead in hiding for now,” Joris offered, sinking to the ground. There was no shelter, but there wasn’t really any need for shelter, either.
“We don’t know yet whether the undead are the worst of it, though,” Sheen said, but she found a place to sit as well. Mal and Kal joined her in meditation while Joris and Talan napped, Joris snoring loudly. They awoke around midafternoon, when the ashy sunlight was brightest.
“I can attempt to contact Haden for you, Sheen,” Mal said with unusual clarity.
“No, let’s wait,” Sheen said. “If he’s doing anything important you may distract him.”
“Then we should be off,” the warlock said. Talan searched around to find the tracks again, not much fainter than the previous day, and they began walking. Kal looked around at the desolate landscape sadly.
“This world must have had heroes, don’t you think?” Talan asked.
“They don’t seem to have done a very good job,” Sheen grumped.
Kal frowned. “The time for Thazia’s heroes is long past. The world has been dying for a long time—the fiends only needed to give it a push. It may not be too late for alien heroes, though.”
“Speak for yourself,” Sheen said. “I’m not here to save Thazia; I have other problems.”
The ruined forest grew slowly on the horizon. Most of the trees were dead, and those that weren’t clearly would be soon. Haden’s tracks led them to a spot where several trees had fallen, knocked down by something large. Many corpses lay scattered among the splintered stumps.
“Wow, he took them on himself?” Kal wondered. “I’m impressed.”
Sheen pointed at a damp section of ground. “I’ve never known Haden to produce large puddles of acid, though.”
“No, but a black dragon might,” Talan said.
“Are you sure?” Mal asked. “How big of a dragon?”
Talan wandered around the impromptu clearing for a few moments, gauging the damage. “An adult at least, I’d say. The dragon went off, to the north, and it looks like Haden followed it at a distance. Its progress was really erratic, though. Something was wrong with it.”
“What might vex a dragon?” Mal asked.
“Confusion?” Kal suggested. “Maybe Haden?”
“It’s really not his style,” Sheen said. “And, well, he’s really not that powerful.”
Kal sucked air through his teeth. “Betzalel could have done it.”
Joris blinked, startled. “You saw him?”
“Briefly,” Kal explained. “He threw confusion on us and then teleported. It was unpleasant. We should make haste.”
The dragon’s wake was easy enough to follow, but it veered sharply westward as it reached the boundary of a grove of living trees. The leaves of the trees were silvery, polished like mirrors. “Haden’s tracks lead in there,” Talan said.
Mal examined the trees. “There is a magical aura here, but it should be safe to pass. I believe it is intended to keep the undead out.”
“A grove of the Lady?” Joris asked.
“This place bears here spirit. There is a clearing further east that she used for gatherings.”
They stepped over the boundary cautiously and moved deeper into the grove. The edge of the clearing appeared ahead, a grayish opening filled with dim twilight. Several people stood in the center—Lady Margone and Betzalel talking to Haden. A short distance from them, a massive red-furred creature with a lion’s head stood with a coterie of barbed devils. Mal gasped suddenly and stared down at his feet. Hidden among the tree roots was the broken body of the Lady of Mirrors.
Mar 26, 2009
Questioner vs. Answerer
I got to thinking after a conversation with a friend of mine and realized that we have very distinct and different approaches to the way we think when we don't know something. For those familiar with Objectivist terminology: we have different psycho-epistemologies. After some more thinking, I realized that this distinction is actually pretty common, so I decided to write about it.
I realized that when people don't know something, most fall into one of two approaches to dealing with it. Some immediately start asking questions of whoever or whatever is available, while some sit down, summon up all of their relevant knowledge, and try to think through it themselves. I call these two types (obviously enough) the Questioner and the Answerer.
My friend is very definitely a Questioner, and he is pushy about it. Not in a bad way, he just wants you to explain and explain and explain and explain until you have to leave--conversations with him are never "finished", they just get interrupted by outside considerations. I'm very definitely an Answerer, which is why I wind up doing most of the explaining. Now, while I like being an Answerer (to the point where I can find persistent Questioners annoying after a while), I don't think that there's any moral significance to either approach. Neither type is more or less likely to be intellectually passive. The two just have *different* benefits and pitfalls.
Questioners have to understand that questions are not an end in themselves and to restrain their tendency to niggle at unimportant details, which means that they have to learn to distinguish what is important and what isn't. Questioners always have to be aware of and pay attention to fundamentals, which is often difficult for them to do. If they don't do this, many wind up as purposeless skeptics who refuse to accept any idea because they can still think of a few questions to ask--regardless of whether those questions make any sense or not. Questioners also have to spend some time learning how to answer their own questions instead of immediately turning to other people for the answers, a practice that has many pitfalls of its own as "other people" are not necessarily any more knowledgeable than you are. Conversations between two Questioners often launch into realms of increasingly bizarre arcana until the participants get bored or are forcibly separated. I think that this mental habit comes about as a result of enjoying picking apart statements. A questioner feels confident about his or her mental abilities when he or she spots and illuminates flaws.
Answerers, like me, have to first learn that "I don't know" is a perfectly acceptable answer. This is VERY hard for some to learn because an Answerer's general trait is that we enjoy knowing what we are talking about. The urge to have the answer can overcome logic and common sense, causing the Answerer to spout all kinds of nonsense very authoritatively. My housemate does this--he's another Answerer and sometimes we drive each other insane. Conversations between two Answerers are either a dance of careful ettiquette or they degenerate into shouting and epithets. You can always spot intellectually passive Answerers because they deliver pat answers to arcane questions in fields they know nothing about. Answerers with good memories (me) also sometimes have problems because they tend to rely on occasionally faulty memory rather than going and looking things up again. While this saves time, this can also run you intellectually into the weeds. With Questioners around, this can be really humiliating. Intellectually active Answerers learn from their humiliating mistakes and become increasingly careful about their utterances. Passive ones seek to surround themselves with people who never ask questions--they are EXTREMELY touchy about being contradicted and view this as tantamount to an assault.
People don't always fall entirely into one camp or the other, and some switch camps depending on the circumstances. Answerers, from what I've seen, tend to be older people with more life experience to draw on, although this is not always the case. I've ALWAYS been an answerer as far as I can remember, I'm sure my parents will back me up on this. My most common epithet as a child was "know-it-all" and my third-grade teacher found it a little alarming to be corrected in her pronounciation of "pterodactyl" by a seven-year-old.
Answerers also gain a lot of traction on the Internet (particularly in forums), where they can speak and be heard without being interrupted, whereas in real-time communications Questioners tend to hog most of the air time. (This is based on my personal experience, anyway. Your Mileage May Vary.) Intellectually passive Answerers in positions of authority make life miserable for everyone, but the intellectually active ones make reasonably good leaders--but so do intellectually active Questioners. They just differ in approach--the Answerer is decisive and definite, while the Questioner gets ALL the data before making a decision. Thus Answerers are somewhat better leaders in emergencies while Questioners are often better in more static situations.
The only area where I've seen a significant difference is in training--Questioners are godawful at training. Not teaching. Many Questioners are excellent teachers of the Socratic type because the ultimate purpose of teaching isn't to learn specific information but to learn how to approach a given class of problems or problems in general. When they are trying to train you on a specific task, however, they fail miserably, derailing themselves almost instantly into minutae instead of conveying any kind of global or methodical approach to the task. This may just be a result of the fact that I'm not good at memorizing a billion dissociated steps unless I know why I'm doing any given thing, but for training give me an Answerer every time. It works out, though, because Answerers tend to enjoy training. It allows us to show off our vast amounts of Knowledge.
If you're ever in any doubt about whether someone is a Questioner or an Answerer, a single question will set you straight: "Do you have any questions?" The Questioner mentality will probably have a round dozen. An Answerer will most likely stare at you blankly for several seconds and then either say "no, not really" or, at best, offer up some really easy and obvious question to show willing. They expect to figure things out as they go along, which is their usual method anyway.
I realized that when people don't know something, most fall into one of two approaches to dealing with it. Some immediately start asking questions of whoever or whatever is available, while some sit down, summon up all of their relevant knowledge, and try to think through it themselves. I call these two types (obviously enough) the Questioner and the Answerer.
My friend is very definitely a Questioner, and he is pushy about it. Not in a bad way, he just wants you to explain and explain and explain and explain until you have to leave--conversations with him are never "finished", they just get interrupted by outside considerations. I'm very definitely an Answerer, which is why I wind up doing most of the explaining. Now, while I like being an Answerer (to the point where I can find persistent Questioners annoying after a while), I don't think that there's any moral significance to either approach. Neither type is more or less likely to be intellectually passive. The two just have *different* benefits and pitfalls.
Questioners have to understand that questions are not an end in themselves and to restrain their tendency to niggle at unimportant details, which means that they have to learn to distinguish what is important and what isn't. Questioners always have to be aware of and pay attention to fundamentals, which is often difficult for them to do. If they don't do this, many wind up as purposeless skeptics who refuse to accept any idea because they can still think of a few questions to ask--regardless of whether those questions make any sense or not. Questioners also have to spend some time learning how to answer their own questions instead of immediately turning to other people for the answers, a practice that has many pitfalls of its own as "other people" are not necessarily any more knowledgeable than you are. Conversations between two Questioners often launch into realms of increasingly bizarre arcana until the participants get bored or are forcibly separated. I think that this mental habit comes about as a result of enjoying picking apart statements. A questioner feels confident about his or her mental abilities when he or she spots and illuminates flaws.
Answerers, like me, have to first learn that "I don't know" is a perfectly acceptable answer. This is VERY hard for some to learn because an Answerer's general trait is that we enjoy knowing what we are talking about. The urge to have the answer can overcome logic and common sense, causing the Answerer to spout all kinds of nonsense very authoritatively. My housemate does this--he's another Answerer and sometimes we drive each other insane. Conversations between two Answerers are either a dance of careful ettiquette or they degenerate into shouting and epithets. You can always spot intellectually passive Answerers because they deliver pat answers to arcane questions in fields they know nothing about. Answerers with good memories (me) also sometimes have problems because they tend to rely on occasionally faulty memory rather than going and looking things up again. While this saves time, this can also run you intellectually into the weeds. With Questioners around, this can be really humiliating. Intellectually active Answerers learn from their humiliating mistakes and become increasingly careful about their utterances. Passive ones seek to surround themselves with people who never ask questions--they are EXTREMELY touchy about being contradicted and view this as tantamount to an assault.
People don't always fall entirely into one camp or the other, and some switch camps depending on the circumstances. Answerers, from what I've seen, tend to be older people with more life experience to draw on, although this is not always the case. I've ALWAYS been an answerer as far as I can remember, I'm sure my parents will back me up on this. My most common epithet as a child was "know-it-all" and my third-grade teacher found it a little alarming to be corrected in her pronounciation of "pterodactyl" by a seven-year-old.
Answerers also gain a lot of traction on the Internet (particularly in forums), where they can speak and be heard without being interrupted, whereas in real-time communications Questioners tend to hog most of the air time. (This is based on my personal experience, anyway. Your Mileage May Vary.) Intellectually passive Answerers in positions of authority make life miserable for everyone, but the intellectually active ones make reasonably good leaders--but so do intellectually active Questioners. They just differ in approach--the Answerer is decisive and definite, while the Questioner gets ALL the data before making a decision. Thus Answerers are somewhat better leaders in emergencies while Questioners are often better in more static situations.
The only area where I've seen a significant difference is in training--Questioners are godawful at training. Not teaching. Many Questioners are excellent teachers of the Socratic type because the ultimate purpose of teaching isn't to learn specific information but to learn how to approach a given class of problems or problems in general. When they are trying to train you on a specific task, however, they fail miserably, derailing themselves almost instantly into minutae instead of conveying any kind of global or methodical approach to the task. This may just be a result of the fact that I'm not good at memorizing a billion dissociated steps unless I know why I'm doing any given thing, but for training give me an Answerer every time. It works out, though, because Answerers tend to enjoy training. It allows us to show off our vast amounts of Knowledge.
If you're ever in any doubt about whether someone is a Questioner or an Answerer, a single question will set you straight: "Do you have any questions?" The Questioner mentality will probably have a round dozen. An Answerer will most likely stare at you blankly for several seconds and then either say "no, not really" or, at best, offer up some really easy and obvious question to show willing. They expect to figure things out as they go along, which is their usual method anyway.
Mar 21, 2009
Dayton Tea Party
Advocates of freedom and individual rights across the country have been gathering in public places to protest the activities of the government. Now, plans are in place to hold such an event in Dayton--on Income Tax Day. I plan to attend. If you're in/around Dayton, here's the information for you:
Who: Dayton area Objectivists and freedom-supporters
What: Dayton Tea Party Protest
When: April 15, 2009, 6 to 8 pm
Where: Courthouse Square, corner of 3rd and Main
Why: To express our disgust with the direction this country is taking and show our support for the concepts of individual rights and freedom.
Parking: The best place to park is probably at the Convention Center a few blocks away, although there is also the PMI lot across the street from the Fifth Third building. Expect to pay at least $6 to park, however, and most of the lots only accept cash. There are Wright-Patt Credit Union and Fifth-third ATM's within easy walking distance. If an interested person needs transportation, I can drive provided they'll help pay for parking.
Bring: Protest Signs and an Umbrella (the weather in Dayton being what it is)
Hope to see you there!
Update: I found the Official Site of the tea party organizers--their Facebook page indicates that they have more than 1200 reservations already. If you intend to attend, hit up their site and RSVP, it'll help ensure media coverage of the event if nothing else.
Who: Dayton area Objectivists and freedom-supporters
What: Dayton Tea Party Protest
When: April 15, 2009, 6 to 8 pm
Where: Courthouse Square, corner of 3rd and Main
Why: To express our disgust with the direction this country is taking and show our support for the concepts of individual rights and freedom.
Parking: The best place to park is probably at the Convention Center a few blocks away, although there is also the PMI lot across the street from the Fifth Third building. Expect to pay at least $6 to park, however, and most of the lots only accept cash. There are Wright-Patt Credit Union and Fifth-third ATM's within easy walking distance. If an interested person needs transportation, I can drive provided they'll help pay for parking.
Bring: Protest Signs and an Umbrella (the weather in Dayton being what it is)
Hope to see you there!
Update: I found the Official Site of the tea party organizers--their Facebook page indicates that they have more than 1200 reservations already. If you intend to attend, hit up their site and RSVP, it'll help ensure media coverage of the event if nothing else.
Mar 20, 2009
I Lobby Voinovich
Re: my last post, I sent the following email to Senator Voinovich:
Dear Senator Voinovich:I encourage you to contact your own senator, which can be done via this site.
On Thursday, the House passed a bill that would institute a special 90% "emergency tax" on bonuses paid by financial institutions that have received more than $5 million in federal bailout money.
Completely aside from the impropriety of the federal government bailing out failing businesses, this bill is a disgrace--this is the act of a dictator seeking to expropriate and nationalize an industry to appease the worst type of envy imaginable. I hope that you will stand fast and fight this bill to the best of your ability for the sake of those who do not wish to see America become a Fascist country, Fascist in the literal sense of the term, where the government determines how business is run while still retaining the fiction of private property.
Stop this travesty!
Jennifer Snow
The Nationalization Continues
After a tip from my housemate, I located this news story that illustrates the true effects of the bailout on any company foolish enough to take the money. Take government money, and there is no limit to what the would-be dictators in Washington will dictate. They will feel free to order you to violate your contractual agreements regarding bonuses, for instance, because people are "outraged". The economic dictators feel no need to be restrained by anything like legality, contracts, or common sense. These social metaphysicians seek only to appease the loudest screamers of the immediate split-second.
AIG is doomed--either it will finally be "allowed" to fail (after destroying yet more millions of dollars of taxpayer money), or the government will soon own 100% of the company and keep it in operation like a corpse animated by ropes tied to the ankles and wrists. It will become a Ponzi scheme as grotesque as Social Security.
If you have money in AIG, get out. Get out, get out, get out, no matter HOW much it costs you. And maybe do some screaming of your own, before this nationalization spree continues.
AIG is doomed--either it will finally be "allowed" to fail (after destroying yet more millions of dollars of taxpayer money), or the government will soon own 100% of the company and keep it in operation like a corpse animated by ropes tied to the ankles and wrists. It will become a Ponzi scheme as grotesque as Social Security.
If you have money in AIG, get out. Get out, get out, get out, no matter HOW much it costs you. And maybe do some screaming of your own, before this nationalization spree continues.
Mar 15, 2009
The Sleeping Giant Stirs?
While looking at Yaron Brook's recent WSJ OpEd "Is Ayn Rand Relevant?", I stumbled upon this fascinating piece analyzing Obama's recent poll numbers. Go read it, it's well worth the effort. Could there be any more hopeful sign for the future of this country (and thus, of the world), that the popularity of the socialist, populist president is dropping like a stone just two months after he entered office?
Sales of Atlas Shrugged are rising and continuing to rise. Many Americans are now seeking an answer to the question of why the actions of their "leaders" are accomplishing precisely the opposite of their stated intentions. If ever there was a time to speak, this is it.
Sales of Atlas Shrugged are rising and continuing to rise. Many Americans are now seeking an answer to the question of why the actions of their "leaders" are accomplishing precisely the opposite of their stated intentions. If ever there was a time to speak, this is it.
Feb 24, 2009
Cold Blood: Session 43
Talan awoke suddenly, startled out of sleep by a loud crash and pained yell from downstairs. He eased himself out of Hexla’s embrace and edged his way toward the living room, where Yolette was scrubbing industriously at some bloodstains on the floor. She waved vaguely in Talan’s direction. Mystified, the ranger eased past her into the kitchen and through the back door into the garden, where Haden, Kal, Mal, and Sheen were gathered in a rough semi-circle around a man dangling by his wrists from one of the overhanging eaves.
“What’s going on here?” Talan asked. “I leave you guys for one evening . . .”
“We could hang him upside-down if you’d prefer,” Haden replied.
“What happened? Who is he?”
“He’s a priest,” Sheen said. “He was working with Margone and Betzalel.” Talan blinked as he realized that she was covered with wounds still oozing blood. Kal and Haden looked similarly disarrayed, if not quite as bloodied.
“Surely he didn’t inflict all of this by himself?”
“There was a hamatula, too,” Sheen explained. “And Betzalel was there briefly.”
“He just told us that Betzalel and Margone are trying to kill a god and the world of Thazia to create a Lord of Pain for Alocer’s Disigil,” Kal summarized. Talan hunched his shoulders, feeling a bit sheepish and guilty.
“That’s what happens when you let yourself get distracted,” he muttered.
“Your night was better spent here, my friend. Trust me,” Kal said, wrinkling his nose at Orthros in distaste. “No rest for the meddlers.”
“I think we’re done with this fellow,” Haden said. “Let’s cut him loose and go find Tulio.”
“Wait,” Orthros sputtered. “You’re going to let me go?”
“Sure, it’s not like you WANT to help the bad guys any more,” Kal said.
Haden rolled his eyes. “That, and we’re squeamish about killing people who aren’t actively attacking us. So off you go, don’t do it again.” He yanked on the rope and the knots holding Orthros’ wrists came undone, dropping the priest in an undignified heap on the ground.
“I’m not so squeamish,” Mal remarked as the priest sprinted across the yard and tumbled over a low wall into someone else’s garden. Sheen tried to conceal a yawn.
“I need to get some rest before we do anything else,” she said.
“I’ll send a message for Tulio to meet us here, then,” Haden replied, sliding his arms around her so she could rest her head against his chest. She yawned again, more assertively.
“All right.”
Tulio arrived just as they were finishing breakfast, looking harassed. “It looks like we need to visit Thazia after all,” Haden greeted him without preamble.
“Oh,” Tulio said, a bit nonplussed. “I guess you’ve already heard, then. Did Thea tell you?”
“Heard what?” Haden queried.
“About the drow who came to see me. I came right over to tell you about it.”
“Another one?” Kal asked.
“Yeah, real polite fellow. Very quiet. But, as you can imagine, given my . . . history with those guys . . .” Tulio’s hands went to his chest briefly.
“Is he still alive?” Sheen asked, curious.
“Yeah. He just asked me some questions about the other one, the one who hired me to steal that diadem.” Tulio shrugged. “I’m not sure how important it is, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“It’s odd,” Haden said, “But I suppose there are probably some loose ends there. Anyway, Thazia. Do you remember how you got here from there?”
“A bit,” Tulio said.
“If you can take us to where you think the portal is, I’ll bet Lissandra can handle the rest.”
“I have a question, though,” Kal interjected. “Are we ready for Betzalel? He muddled all of our minds rather easily last night. I’m not confident that another encounter with the creature will go any better.”
“Do we really have a choice?” Sheen asked.
“If it is only his mind twisting skills you fear, there are wards to counter such,” Mal offered.
“Maybe,” Kal hedged. “Any insight from the book?”
Mal sighed and shook his head. “It’s very vague. It references the Queen of Chaos who ruled the Abyss. However it is rife with imagery and references that could be dated and misunderstood.”
“What Queen of Chaos?” Haden asked. “I’ve never heard of anyone ‘ruling’ the Abyss.”
“It speaks of the time of creation and of the Ring of Law. I believe the ‘Old Ones’ are the Aboleth, but the term could be applied to various ancient beings.”
“Creation of what?” Haden demanded.
“Of everything,” Kal replied.
“Indeed,” Mal said. “It speaks of the Queen of Chaos—mm, let’s call her Kay for short—killing the Prince of Demons, or having him killed and replacing him. After that, Kay went and got herself in a bit too deep and was imprisoned, so she doesn’t really rule much any more.”
“Um, how is this relevant to our problem?” Sheen asked.
“He did say it was vague,” Kal said, chuckling.
Mal shrugged. “It also speaks of the ‘7 Warders’ who created the Rod of Law, which, if I’m not mistaken, was subsequently shattered into the Rod of Seven Parts. Then it makes reference to the Eye of Dawn and the Tear of Night, but only that they are the remains of the Two Serpents. The fact that it is written upside-down and backwards doesn’t really help much, either.”
“What serpents?” Sheen asked.
“The Two Serpents born from the Ring of Law that was then sundered leaving the Eye and the Tear.”
“Alocer, Betzalel and my mother are messing around with some deep, scary forces here,” Haden remarked, awed.
“They’re trying to create a new Ultimate Mystery by duplicating the Lady of Pain. I should hope it wouldn’t be easy,” Kal muttered.
“Most of it is metaphor and very subject to interpretation. Based on whichever racial mythos you use, it could have any number of meanings. Maybe I can contact a few of these ‘Old Ones’ directly.”
Sheen blinked. “Let’s, um, let’s not go disturbing any ancient beings of terrifying power right now, all right? Any more, at least.”
“True,” Mal said, closing the book with a snap. “I have heard that many a wizard has gone mad communing with such beings.” There was a brief pause while everyone stared at Mal to see if he was joking, but he simply returned their gazes blandly.
“Yes, first things first,” Haden said finally. “And the first thing is to go to Thazia, find my mother, and pry the Tear out of her evil little hands.”
“Are you up to fighting your own mother?” Sheen asked carefully.
“We needn’t kill her,” Kal offered.
Haden shrugged. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but . . . I’ll be all right. If it has to be done, it has to be done.”
“I was just thinking, she might be very happy as a llama,” Kal explained. Haden snorted with laughter.
“All right, Tulio, show us where you think the portal is,” Sheen said, standing up.
“Sure,” Tulio said. “It’s just off the Great Bazaar. I don’t know what the key is, though. I’ve been there since and it hasn’t opened.”
“Lissandra can Analyze Portal, so let’s stop at Vander’s and see if she’ll help us.”
Mal threw his cloak around his shoulders. “Maybe one of us should learn that spell. We seem to find ourselves needing that kind of information quite often.”
Lissandra was sitting at her usual table, talking to Jazra. When she saw them coming, she reached automatically for her log book. “Well met, friends.” She gave Kal a speculative glance. “This one I don’t know.”
“This is Kalenthor,” Haden said. “He’s sometimes a wizard.”
“True enough,” Kal said.
“He’s from Faerun, you’ll like him.”
“Really?” Lissandra asked.
“Silverymoon, to be specific,” Kal affirmed.
“You attract Northerners. I’m from Tantras, myself.”
“We’ve found a portal to Thazia,” Sheen said, “but we need help analyzing it so we can use it. We . . .” She turned around to look at Tulio, only to discover that Jazra had dragged him into a corner.
“He WHAT?!” the tiefling demanded, making everyone in the room jump. “Where IS he?” Tulio mumbled something in reply and Jazra released his arm and sprinted out of the room. “Sorry, I think Xillian may be planning to assassinate someone. Gotta go!”
“Um . . . okay?” Sheen responded several seconds later. “Is she planning to help him or stop him?”
“Stop him, I think,” Tulio said weakly.
“He must not be planning to kill Ringhammer, then,” Lissandra growled. “I suppose we should get on with the portal hunting, then.”
Tulio led the now augmented group to the entrance of Chinzpeter’s Used Clothing. “That’s where I first appeared in Sigil,” he said. Lissandra set her book down and began spellcasting.
“That’s an unusual one,” she said when she had finished. “The key is a happy memory of your mother.” Haden slapped his palm against his forehead dramatically, then winced.
“Ow. Don’t do that if you have horns. Anyway, there’s no way in hell I’m going through that portal.”
“Me neither,” Sheen muttered. “I don’t even remember my mother.”
“Do we need one memory per person?” Mal asked.
“No,” Lissandra said, “Just one for all of you. It’s like any other key.”
“We have the boy,” Kal said. “His memory can open it for all of us.”
“Maybe,” Tulio said, backing away quickly, “but I am NOT going through it!”
“Oh, bah,” Kal said. “I had an untroubled childhood. I’ll open it.” He concentrated briefly and the portal flared to sputtering life. “Right,” he said. “Now let’s go rescue Joris.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw him at the Circle this morning when I went to see Firil, before the rest of you were up. He seems a bit downtrodden. Perhaps the succubus has backslid.”
“Let’s not let our imaginations run away with us,” Sheen grumbled. “You could have said something sooner, you know.”
“I apologize.”
Haden stared into the portal. “I know Joris is our friend, but this is kind of important,” he said.”
“Well, he could help us live long enough to reach our goal,” Kal insisted.
“I have to say that I agree with Kal,” Talan added.
“All right!” Haden snapped. “I’ll meet you on the other side, then.”
“What?” Sheen demanded.
“Mother’s far enough ahead of us, it can’t wait. I’m better at finding information than anyone else. I’ll go.” With that, he stepped through the portal and vanished. It wavered a bit, as if uncertain, then closed abruptly.
“Dammit!” Sheen burst out.
“What’s going on here?” Talan asked. “I leave you guys for one evening . . .”
“We could hang him upside-down if you’d prefer,” Haden replied.
“What happened? Who is he?”
“He’s a priest,” Sheen said. “He was working with Margone and Betzalel.” Talan blinked as he realized that she was covered with wounds still oozing blood. Kal and Haden looked similarly disarrayed, if not quite as bloodied.
“Surely he didn’t inflict all of this by himself?”
“There was a hamatula, too,” Sheen explained. “And Betzalel was there briefly.”
“He just told us that Betzalel and Margone are trying to kill a god and the world of Thazia to create a Lord of Pain for Alocer’s Disigil,” Kal summarized. Talan hunched his shoulders, feeling a bit sheepish and guilty.
“That’s what happens when you let yourself get distracted,” he muttered.
“Your night was better spent here, my friend. Trust me,” Kal said, wrinkling his nose at Orthros in distaste. “No rest for the meddlers.”
“I think we’re done with this fellow,” Haden said. “Let’s cut him loose and go find Tulio.”
“Wait,” Orthros sputtered. “You’re going to let me go?”
“Sure, it’s not like you WANT to help the bad guys any more,” Kal said.
Haden rolled his eyes. “That, and we’re squeamish about killing people who aren’t actively attacking us. So off you go, don’t do it again.” He yanked on the rope and the knots holding Orthros’ wrists came undone, dropping the priest in an undignified heap on the ground.
“I’m not so squeamish,” Mal remarked as the priest sprinted across the yard and tumbled over a low wall into someone else’s garden. Sheen tried to conceal a yawn.
“I need to get some rest before we do anything else,” she said.
“I’ll send a message for Tulio to meet us here, then,” Haden replied, sliding his arms around her so she could rest her head against his chest. She yawned again, more assertively.
“All right.”
Tulio arrived just as they were finishing breakfast, looking harassed. “It looks like we need to visit Thazia after all,” Haden greeted him without preamble.
“Oh,” Tulio said, a bit nonplussed. “I guess you’ve already heard, then. Did Thea tell you?”
“Heard what?” Haden queried.
“About the drow who came to see me. I came right over to tell you about it.”
“Another one?” Kal asked.
“Yeah, real polite fellow. Very quiet. But, as you can imagine, given my . . . history with those guys . . .” Tulio’s hands went to his chest briefly.
“Is he still alive?” Sheen asked, curious.
“Yeah. He just asked me some questions about the other one, the one who hired me to steal that diadem.” Tulio shrugged. “I’m not sure how important it is, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“It’s odd,” Haden said, “But I suppose there are probably some loose ends there. Anyway, Thazia. Do you remember how you got here from there?”
“A bit,” Tulio said.
“If you can take us to where you think the portal is, I’ll bet Lissandra can handle the rest.”
“I have a question, though,” Kal interjected. “Are we ready for Betzalel? He muddled all of our minds rather easily last night. I’m not confident that another encounter with the creature will go any better.”
“Do we really have a choice?” Sheen asked.
“If it is only his mind twisting skills you fear, there are wards to counter such,” Mal offered.
“Maybe,” Kal hedged. “Any insight from the book?”
Mal sighed and shook his head. “It’s very vague. It references the Queen of Chaos who ruled the Abyss. However it is rife with imagery and references that could be dated and misunderstood.”
“What Queen of Chaos?” Haden asked. “I’ve never heard of anyone ‘ruling’ the Abyss.”
“It speaks of the time of creation and of the Ring of Law. I believe the ‘Old Ones’ are the Aboleth, but the term could be applied to various ancient beings.”
“Creation of what?” Haden demanded.
“Of everything,” Kal replied.
“Indeed,” Mal said. “It speaks of the Queen of Chaos—mm, let’s call her Kay for short—killing the Prince of Demons, or having him killed and replacing him. After that, Kay went and got herself in a bit too deep and was imprisoned, so she doesn’t really rule much any more.”
“Um, how is this relevant to our problem?” Sheen asked.
“He did say it was vague,” Kal said, chuckling.
Mal shrugged. “It also speaks of the ‘7 Warders’ who created the Rod of Law, which, if I’m not mistaken, was subsequently shattered into the Rod of Seven Parts. Then it makes reference to the Eye of Dawn and the Tear of Night, but only that they are the remains of the Two Serpents. The fact that it is written upside-down and backwards doesn’t really help much, either.”
“What serpents?” Sheen asked.
“The Two Serpents born from the Ring of Law that was then sundered leaving the Eye and the Tear.”
“Alocer, Betzalel and my mother are messing around with some deep, scary forces here,” Haden remarked, awed.
“They’re trying to create a new Ultimate Mystery by duplicating the Lady of Pain. I should hope it wouldn’t be easy,” Kal muttered.
“Most of it is metaphor and very subject to interpretation. Based on whichever racial mythos you use, it could have any number of meanings. Maybe I can contact a few of these ‘Old Ones’ directly.”
Sheen blinked. “Let’s, um, let’s not go disturbing any ancient beings of terrifying power right now, all right? Any more, at least.”
“True,” Mal said, closing the book with a snap. “I have heard that many a wizard has gone mad communing with such beings.” There was a brief pause while everyone stared at Mal to see if he was joking, but he simply returned their gazes blandly.
“Yes, first things first,” Haden said finally. “And the first thing is to go to Thazia, find my mother, and pry the Tear out of her evil little hands.”
“Are you up to fighting your own mother?” Sheen asked carefully.
“We needn’t kill her,” Kal offered.
Haden shrugged. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but . . . I’ll be all right. If it has to be done, it has to be done.”
“I was just thinking, she might be very happy as a llama,” Kal explained. Haden snorted with laughter.
“All right, Tulio, show us where you think the portal is,” Sheen said, standing up.
“Sure,” Tulio said. “It’s just off the Great Bazaar. I don’t know what the key is, though. I’ve been there since and it hasn’t opened.”
“Lissandra can Analyze Portal, so let’s stop at Vander’s and see if she’ll help us.”
Mal threw his cloak around his shoulders. “Maybe one of us should learn that spell. We seem to find ourselves needing that kind of information quite often.”
Lissandra was sitting at her usual table, talking to Jazra. When she saw them coming, she reached automatically for her log book. “Well met, friends.” She gave Kal a speculative glance. “This one I don’t know.”
“This is Kalenthor,” Haden said. “He’s sometimes a wizard.”
“True enough,” Kal said.
“He’s from Faerun, you’ll like him.”
“Really?” Lissandra asked.
“Silverymoon, to be specific,” Kal affirmed.
“You attract Northerners. I’m from Tantras, myself.”
“We’ve found a portal to Thazia,” Sheen said, “but we need help analyzing it so we can use it. We . . .” She turned around to look at Tulio, only to discover that Jazra had dragged him into a corner.
“He WHAT?!” the tiefling demanded, making everyone in the room jump. “Where IS he?” Tulio mumbled something in reply and Jazra released his arm and sprinted out of the room. “Sorry, I think Xillian may be planning to assassinate someone. Gotta go!”
“Um . . . okay?” Sheen responded several seconds later. “Is she planning to help him or stop him?”
“Stop him, I think,” Tulio said weakly.
“He must not be planning to kill Ringhammer, then,” Lissandra growled. “I suppose we should get on with the portal hunting, then.”
Tulio led the now augmented group to the entrance of Chinzpeter’s Used Clothing. “That’s where I first appeared in Sigil,” he said. Lissandra set her book down and began spellcasting.
“That’s an unusual one,” she said when she had finished. “The key is a happy memory of your mother.” Haden slapped his palm against his forehead dramatically, then winced.
“Ow. Don’t do that if you have horns. Anyway, there’s no way in hell I’m going through that portal.”
“Me neither,” Sheen muttered. “I don’t even remember my mother.”
“Do we need one memory per person?” Mal asked.
“No,” Lissandra said, “Just one for all of you. It’s like any other key.”
“We have the boy,” Kal said. “His memory can open it for all of us.”
“Maybe,” Tulio said, backing away quickly, “but I am NOT going through it!”
“Oh, bah,” Kal said. “I had an untroubled childhood. I’ll open it.” He concentrated briefly and the portal flared to sputtering life. “Right,” he said. “Now let’s go rescue Joris.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw him at the Circle this morning when I went to see Firil, before the rest of you were up. He seems a bit downtrodden. Perhaps the succubus has backslid.”
“Let’s not let our imaginations run away with us,” Sheen grumbled. “You could have said something sooner, you know.”
“I apologize.”
Haden stared into the portal. “I know Joris is our friend, but this is kind of important,” he said.”
“Well, he could help us live long enough to reach our goal,” Kal insisted.
“I have to say that I agree with Kal,” Talan added.
“All right!” Haden snapped. “I’ll meet you on the other side, then.”
“What?” Sheen demanded.
“Mother’s far enough ahead of us, it can’t wait. I’m better at finding information than anyone else. I’ll go.” With that, he stepped through the portal and vanished. It wavered a bit, as if uncertain, then closed abruptly.
“Dammit!” Sheen burst out.
Feb 12, 2009
Vatican Attempts Takeover
I've been pretty busy with school, but this article was just too awful to pass up. I'm sure to many this looks like the Church is finally attempting to make nice with science, but nothing could be further from the truth. The Church is trying to co-opt the prestige of science and reinstate itself as a reputable participant in the forum of ideas. While it's true that the amount of bad press generated by evolution-deniers on the basis that they are completely incorrect and anyone but an ignoramus can detect this fact has clearly generated this ridiculous attempt at appeasement, this doesn't have the same effect as appeasement by an otherwise rational person would.
The irrational (religionists, in this case) has nothing to lose by abandoning a nonessential part of their doctrine. Note that the Church isn't about to start claiming that reason is man's only means of knowledge or that A is A--no, they're just willing to allow that a particular datum might happen to be allowable under their irrational philosophy. They are counting on the person reading this announcement to make unwarranted assumptions about the truth of other Church teachings based on their willingness to glom onto other wandering true statements without any regard to the underlying epistemological approach that generated those statements. It is floating abstraction at its finest.
I also find it amusing that the unnamed "Vatican Official" mentioned Augustine and Aquinas in the same sentence--Augustine was militantly anti-reason and anti-science, whereas Aquinas' theories led in part to a rebirth of reason and science because he believed in the power of reason. He also believed, mistakenly, that the existence of God could be rationally proven, but otherwise you couldn't find two men whose ideas were more opposed.
What a farce.
The irrational (religionists, in this case) has nothing to lose by abandoning a nonessential part of their doctrine. Note that the Church isn't about to start claiming that reason is man's only means of knowledge or that A is A--no, they're just willing to allow that a particular datum might happen to be allowable under their irrational philosophy. They are counting on the person reading this announcement to make unwarranted assumptions about the truth of other Church teachings based on their willingness to glom onto other wandering true statements without any regard to the underlying epistemological approach that generated those statements. It is floating abstraction at its finest.
I also find it amusing that the unnamed "Vatican Official" mentioned Augustine and Aquinas in the same sentence--Augustine was militantly anti-reason and anti-science, whereas Aquinas' theories led in part to a rebirth of reason and science because he believed in the power of reason. He also believed, mistakenly, that the existence of God could be rationally proven, but otherwise you couldn't find two men whose ideas were more opposed.
What a farce.
Jan 18, 2009
Cold Blood: Session 42
Note: I wasn't present for session 41, so someone else did the writeup. You can view it on the Cold Blood campaign site should you so desire.
Sheen looked from Kalenthor to Haden and back, her hands gripping each other tightly. “So . . . what do we do now?”
“You know, I really should get started on that book,” Mal said, oblivious to the awkward atmosphere. He tugged insistently on Kal’s sleeve, startling the wizard, who blinked at him for several seconds before pulling the heavy tome out of his pack and handing it wordlessly to the warlock. “Thanks,” Mal said, somewhat ironically, then vanished into his cubbyhole.
“We got a line on Margone while we were in Dis,” Kal said to Sheen.
“Oh?” Haden demanded. “Where is she?”
“She was in the company of a remannon that stays at the Tenth Pit while it’s in Sigil.”
Haden frowned. “A remannon? That’s a type of devil. Do you suppose that might be Betzalel?”
“It could be. There’s a cleric involved, also, by the name of Orthros. It’s worth checking, at least.”
Haden sighed, then nodded. “Yes, let’s go have a look at it.”
Kal rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Haden, I . . . are we all right? I couldn’t have known . . .”
“What you choose to do with your time is none of my business,” Haden said with uncharacteristic stiffness. Sheen smiled a little.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” Haden insisted. “There’s nothing to be done about it now, so let’s just move on. Whatever happens, happens.”
“You think something will happen?” Sheen asked.
“I know something will happen,” Haden replied. “Whatever it is, it will be bad. But trying to anticipate will only make it worse.” He offered Sheen his arm with rather more than his usual formality and ushered her out the door. The Tenth Pit was on the far side of the Lower Ward, close to the Ditch. Someone had made haphazard repairs to the second-storey window, but the exterior was otherwise much the same.
Inside, a burly creature drew pints of some fuming mixture and slapped them irritably on trays that smoked and sizzled where the spilled drink touched them. Nearly thirty fiendish beings ranging from a gaggle of tieflings to a lone Osyluth were crammed into the dense, hot room.
“Excuse me,” Sheen addressed the proprietor.
“Ja?” the creature asked, not pausing. From the voice, it seemed to be female.
“We’re looking for Orthros,” Sheen said.
“Nefer ‘eard of ‘im,” the creature responded instantly.
“Yes, yes, very nice,” Sheen replied with a sigh. “Would you like a bribe, or are we going to have to start a brawl?” The creature finally turned and looked at Sheen, sizing her up with great care.
“Vat I vant is money he owes me for room.”
“That can be arranged,” Sheen said.
“How much does he owe, out of curiosity,” Kal asked.
“Ha,” the proprietress said without humor. “If you can get any money out of ‘im, you can go up. Lousy god. Street trash.”
“Oh, we’ll get something out of him,” Sheen announced.
“Last door right. Tell ‘im Gondul vant ‘er money.”
The steep, narrow stairs led to an equally narrow hallway and a series of small doors. The hall reverberated with the sound of snoring, but voices could still be heard coming from a room at the end of the hall. Sheen looked at Kalenthor. “You have a good spell ready?”
“A couple, yes,” the wizard said, eyeing the door with trepidation.
“All right,” Sheen replied, summoning up psionic power of her own, but before she could finish the snoring was suddenly blotted out by a powerful mental voice.
SO YOU HAVE COME. I HAVE SO BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO MEETING YOU. The door seemed to leap from its hinges as a tall horned male covered in sharp barbs erupted into the corridor, striking Sheen almost casually with a clawed hand. She retaliated instantly, almost by reflex, and impaled herself on several barbs in the process. Swearing, she tried to back away while Kal desperately chanted the words of an invocation.
SUFFER!!! Betzalel roared. A black haze swirling with red flashes seemed to descend, blotting out the corridor. Sheen slashed ineffectually at the air as her vision and hearing clouded. Kalenthor’s chant turned into a confused babble. Sheen thought she heard him retreat back down the stairs, but she couldn’t be sure. Something attacked from the clouds, crushing Sheen against a wooden surface—she thought it was the floor, but it could be a wall or even the ceiling for all she could tell. She slashed at it and heard it howl in pain. Then a wave of psionic force rolled over her and the attacker staggered away to be lost in the murk. She vaguely recognized that the power must have come from Haden, but she could not even guess at his location.
Kal stumbled blindly and fetched up against a warm body. Horrified, he attacked it with his bare hands and heard someone swear.
“What’s the big idea, you lousy berk?!” Gondul leaned out over the bar, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the elven wizard.
“Fairies in the belfry!” Kal announced helpfully. “Must bake a pie!”
“Jannix, get a nuller up here!” Gondul bellowed. A skinny tiefling leaning against the bar raised a hand. Kal, Haden, and Sheen felt their heads suddenly clear.
“Thank you!” Kalenthor yelled and charged back up the stairs. A human in priestly garb shrank back from the sight of Sheen, Haden, and Kal. He glanced at the dead hamatula blocking the door, then turned and jumped out the window. Haden cursed and jumped over the corpse, grabbing the sill and shoving his head out over the courtyard as Orthros staggered to his feet below and began running.
“FIVE THOUSAND GOLD TO WHOEVER STOPS THAT MAN!!” Haden yelled. Within seconds, Orthros was buried under a mass of bodies. He struggled to get free, but in the end a tiefling urchin managed to grab his head and slam it hard into the cobblestones. Haden blinked at the sight. “I know that kid. Hey, OLEG!! You’re a lifesaver!”
“Heya, Haden!” The youngster called, waving an arm.
“I’ll be down in just a second!” Haden said, and hurried back through the tap room. Gondul eyed him balefully and transferred her gaze to Kal and Sheen as they followed.
“Sorry about that,” Sheen said.
“For the record, the devil broke the door,” Kal added.
“The place ‘as seen vorse,” she said, sighing philosophically. Outside, Haden laid claim to the unconscious cleric, removing his purse in the process. Gondul accepted the payment with a faint nod.
“Let’s get this reprobate somewhere safe,” Haden said. Sheen nodded and shouldered the unconscious body. The excitement over, the crowd began to disperse.
Sheen looked from Kalenthor to Haden and back, her hands gripping each other tightly. “So . . . what do we do now?”
“You know, I really should get started on that book,” Mal said, oblivious to the awkward atmosphere. He tugged insistently on Kal’s sleeve, startling the wizard, who blinked at him for several seconds before pulling the heavy tome out of his pack and handing it wordlessly to the warlock. “Thanks,” Mal said, somewhat ironically, then vanished into his cubbyhole.
“We got a line on Margone while we were in Dis,” Kal said to Sheen.
“Oh?” Haden demanded. “Where is she?”
“She was in the company of a remannon that stays at the Tenth Pit while it’s in Sigil.”
Haden frowned. “A remannon? That’s a type of devil. Do you suppose that might be Betzalel?”
“It could be. There’s a cleric involved, also, by the name of Orthros. It’s worth checking, at least.”
Haden sighed, then nodded. “Yes, let’s go have a look at it.”
Kal rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Haden, I . . . are we all right? I couldn’t have known . . .”
“What you choose to do with your time is none of my business,” Haden said with uncharacteristic stiffness. Sheen smiled a little.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” Haden insisted. “There’s nothing to be done about it now, so let’s just move on. Whatever happens, happens.”
“You think something will happen?” Sheen asked.
“I know something will happen,” Haden replied. “Whatever it is, it will be bad. But trying to anticipate will only make it worse.” He offered Sheen his arm with rather more than his usual formality and ushered her out the door. The Tenth Pit was on the far side of the Lower Ward, close to the Ditch. Someone had made haphazard repairs to the second-storey window, but the exterior was otherwise much the same.
Inside, a burly creature drew pints of some fuming mixture and slapped them irritably on trays that smoked and sizzled where the spilled drink touched them. Nearly thirty fiendish beings ranging from a gaggle of tieflings to a lone Osyluth were crammed into the dense, hot room.
“Excuse me,” Sheen addressed the proprietor.
“Ja?” the creature asked, not pausing. From the voice, it seemed to be female.
“We’re looking for Orthros,” Sheen said.
“Nefer ‘eard of ‘im,” the creature responded instantly.
“Yes, yes, very nice,” Sheen replied with a sigh. “Would you like a bribe, or are we going to have to start a brawl?” The creature finally turned and looked at Sheen, sizing her up with great care.
“Vat I vant is money he owes me for room.”
“That can be arranged,” Sheen said.
“How much does he owe, out of curiosity,” Kal asked.
“Ha,” the proprietress said without humor. “If you can get any money out of ‘im, you can go up. Lousy god. Street trash.”
“Oh, we’ll get something out of him,” Sheen announced.
“Last door right. Tell ‘im Gondul vant ‘er money.”
The steep, narrow stairs led to an equally narrow hallway and a series of small doors. The hall reverberated with the sound of snoring, but voices could still be heard coming from a room at the end of the hall. Sheen looked at Kalenthor. “You have a good spell ready?”
“A couple, yes,” the wizard said, eyeing the door with trepidation.
“All right,” Sheen replied, summoning up psionic power of her own, but before she could finish the snoring was suddenly blotted out by a powerful mental voice.
SO YOU HAVE COME. I HAVE SO BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO MEETING YOU. The door seemed to leap from its hinges as a tall horned male covered in sharp barbs erupted into the corridor, striking Sheen almost casually with a clawed hand. She retaliated instantly, almost by reflex, and impaled herself on several barbs in the process. Swearing, she tried to back away while Kal desperately chanted the words of an invocation.
SUFFER!!! Betzalel roared. A black haze swirling with red flashes seemed to descend, blotting out the corridor. Sheen slashed ineffectually at the air as her vision and hearing clouded. Kalenthor’s chant turned into a confused babble. Sheen thought she heard him retreat back down the stairs, but she couldn’t be sure. Something attacked from the clouds, crushing Sheen against a wooden surface—she thought it was the floor, but it could be a wall or even the ceiling for all she could tell. She slashed at it and heard it howl in pain. Then a wave of psionic force rolled over her and the attacker staggered away to be lost in the murk. She vaguely recognized that the power must have come from Haden, but she could not even guess at his location.
Kal stumbled blindly and fetched up against a warm body. Horrified, he attacked it with his bare hands and heard someone swear.
“What’s the big idea, you lousy berk?!” Gondul leaned out over the bar, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the elven wizard.
“Fairies in the belfry!” Kal announced helpfully. “Must bake a pie!”
“Jannix, get a nuller up here!” Gondul bellowed. A skinny tiefling leaning against the bar raised a hand. Kal, Haden, and Sheen felt their heads suddenly clear.
“Thank you!” Kalenthor yelled and charged back up the stairs. A human in priestly garb shrank back from the sight of Sheen, Haden, and Kal. He glanced at the dead hamatula blocking the door, then turned and jumped out the window. Haden cursed and jumped over the corpse, grabbing the sill and shoving his head out over the courtyard as Orthros staggered to his feet below and began running.
“FIVE THOUSAND GOLD TO WHOEVER STOPS THAT MAN!!” Haden yelled. Within seconds, Orthros was buried under a mass of bodies. He struggled to get free, but in the end a tiefling urchin managed to grab his head and slam it hard into the cobblestones. Haden blinked at the sight. “I know that kid. Hey, OLEG!! You’re a lifesaver!”
“Heya, Haden!” The youngster called, waving an arm.
“I’ll be down in just a second!” Haden said, and hurried back through the tap room. Gondul eyed him balefully and transferred her gaze to Kal and Sheen as they followed.
“Sorry about that,” Sheen said.
“For the record, the devil broke the door,” Kal added.
“The place ‘as seen vorse,” she said, sighing philosophically. Outside, Haden laid claim to the unconscious cleric, removing his purse in the process. Gondul accepted the payment with a faint nod.
“Let’s get this reprobate somewhere safe,” Haden said. Sheen nodded and shouldered the unconscious body. The excitement over, the crowd began to disperse.
Dec 18, 2008
The Day the Earth Stood Still
To be absolutely clear: I didn't see this movie. I'm not *going* to see this movie. I'm not really reviewing it, I'm just noting how philosophically horrific this movie is.
The basic premise seems to be that humans are "destroying" the earth and thus some super-powerful aliens have decided to get rid of humanity in order to "save" the earth. What are we doing that's so bad? Technology.
Now, here's where it just gets STUPID. How the hell did these aliens get the power to destroy us WITHOUT technology? We're being attacked by super-powerful HYPOCRITES? Wow, that's inspirational.
In addition to this spectacular bit of idiocy, the trailers gave some evidence that a Jesus-like sacrifice will be required on the part of the female protagonist in order to prevent this catastrophe. (I don't know if this actually happens or not.)
If you are confronted by presumptuous hypocritical aliens demanding sacrifices, do yourself (and, by extension, the rest of us) a favor and tell them to go to hell--which is the only rational and appropriate response. Like Anton Chigurh from No Country for Old Men, don't give someone holding you hostage the excuse of pretending that it's *your* fault that they are killing *you*. They don't even deserve *that* much concession.
The basic premise seems to be that humans are "destroying" the earth and thus some super-powerful aliens have decided to get rid of humanity in order to "save" the earth. What are we doing that's so bad? Technology.
Now, here's where it just gets STUPID. How the hell did these aliens get the power to destroy us WITHOUT technology? We're being attacked by super-powerful HYPOCRITES? Wow, that's inspirational.
In addition to this spectacular bit of idiocy, the trailers gave some evidence that a Jesus-like sacrifice will be required on the part of the female protagonist in order to prevent this catastrophe. (I don't know if this actually happens or not.)
If you are confronted by presumptuous hypocritical aliens demanding sacrifices, do yourself (and, by extension, the rest of us) a favor and tell them to go to hell--which is the only rational and appropriate response. Like Anton Chigurh from No Country for Old Men, don't give someone holding you hostage the excuse of pretending that it's *your* fault that they are killing *you*. They don't even deserve *that* much concession.
Nov 23, 2008
It's an Honor Just to Be Nominated
Woohoo! My short review of Fallout 3 landed in the first heat of The Escapist's review contest!
Quick, go read my review and vote for me!
Quick, go read my review and vote for me!
Nov 19, 2008
To GM: You Are Embarrassing Yourself By This Behavior
I'm sure a lot of people are aware of the proposed bailout bill for the "Big Three" automakers. I'm sure most of the people I know aren't very happy about it. Then, what should I receive in my email but this:
Unbelievable. It's so awful it's almost self-parody.
Let me lay it out to you, GM. I would love for the Big Three automakers to stay in business. However, if they had any kind of reasonable business prospects they would be able to get a loan from a PRIVATE organization. The simple fact that they've had to go to the government for this "loan" means that they aren't offering anything in *exchange* for the money, just their naked need. Well, I'm sorry, but the millions of people in this country that $50 billion is going to be looted from have needs, too, and since WE made that money I don't see where you think you get off asking us to throw it into the black hole of your incompetence!!
You ASKED for this mess when you didn't stand up for your RIGHT to only pay your workers what they were worth to you. You ASKED for this when you repeatedly pushed for tariffs on foreign manufacturers. You are addicts sucking at the government teat and it is HIGH time for the government to CUT YOU OFF.
Yes, it's sad that it has reached the stage where a LOT of people will probably be hurt when the "Big Three" fail. Pain and failure are the eventual result of bad decisions. That doesn't make it right to spread the pain over thousands or hundreds of thousands of additional people--INNOCENT people--while enabling the addict to maintain his addiction.
No, I'm not begging ANYONE to help you out--and the very request is disgusting.
Dear Jennifer Snow,
You made the right choice when you put your confidence in General Motors, and we appreciate your past support. I want to assure you that we are making our best vehicles ever, and we have exciting plans for the future. But we need your help now. Simply put, we need you to join us to let Congress know that a bridge loan to help U.S. automakers also helps strengthen the U.S. economy and preserve millions of American jobs.
Despite what you may be hearing, we are not asking Congress for a bailout but rather a loan that will be repaid.
The U.S. economy is at a crossroads due to the worldwide credit crisis, and all Americans are feeling the effects of the worst economic downturn in 75 years. Despite our successful efforts to restructure, reduce costs and enhance liquidity, U.S. auto sales rely on access to credit, which is all but frozen through traditional channels.
The consequences of the domestic auto industry collapsing would far exceed the $25 billion loan needed to bridge the current crisis. According to a recent study by the Center for Automotive Research:
• One in 10 American jobs depends on U.S. automakers
• Nearly 3 million jobs are at immediate risk
• U.S. personal income could be reduced by $150 billion
• The tax revenue lost over 3 years would be more than $156 billion
Discussions are now underway in Washington, D.C., concerning loans to support U.S. carmakers. I am asking for your support in this vital effort by contacting your state representatives.
Please take a few minutes to go to www.gmfactsandfiction.com, where we have made it easy for you to contact your U.S. senators and representatives. Just click on the "I'm a Concerned American" link under the "Mobilize Now" section, and enter your name and ZIP code to send a personalized e-mail stating your support for the U.S. automotive industry.
Let me assure you that General Motors has made dramatic improvements over the last 10 years. In fact, we are leading the industry with award-winning vehicles like the Chevrolet Malibu, Cadillac CTS, Buick Enclave, Pontiac G8, GMC Acadia, Chevy Tahoe Hybrid, Saturn AURA and more. We offer 18 models with an EPA estimated 30 MPG highway or better — more than Toyota or Honda. GM has 6 hybrids in market and 3 more by mid-2009. GM has closed the quality gap with the imports, and today we are putting our best quality vehicles on the road.
Please share this information with friends and family using the link on the site.
Thank you for helping keep our economy viable.
Sincerely,
Troy Clarke
Unbelievable. It's so awful it's almost self-parody.
Let me lay it out to you, GM. I would love for the Big Three automakers to stay in business. However, if they had any kind of reasonable business prospects they would be able to get a loan from a PRIVATE organization. The simple fact that they've had to go to the government for this "loan" means that they aren't offering anything in *exchange* for the money, just their naked need. Well, I'm sorry, but the millions of people in this country that $50 billion is going to be looted from have needs, too, and since WE made that money I don't see where you think you get off asking us to throw it into the black hole of your incompetence!!
You ASKED for this mess when you didn't stand up for your RIGHT to only pay your workers what they were worth to you. You ASKED for this when you repeatedly pushed for tariffs on foreign manufacturers. You are addicts sucking at the government teat and it is HIGH time for the government to CUT YOU OFF.
Yes, it's sad that it has reached the stage where a LOT of people will probably be hurt when the "Big Three" fail. Pain and failure are the eventual result of bad decisions. That doesn't make it right to spread the pain over thousands or hundreds of thousands of additional people--INNOCENT people--while enabling the addict to maintain his addiction.
No, I'm not begging ANYONE to help you out--and the very request is disgusting.
Nov 17, 2008
Strange Conversations To Have In Public
Adam: "The price of tin went up, so the miniatures are more expensive. A lot of the companies are switching to plastic, which is nice. You know what would really get me? If we had another big war, like World War II again, the government could come in and seize my minis to make bullets."
[PAUSE]
Me: "So, we're talking about World War III here, and your biggest concern is that the government might take your miniatures?"
Adam: "That's a lot of freakin' money!"
Me: "I just, when you weigh probability of nuke landing on house against government taking your minis, it just seems like a weird concern to me."
Adam: "Well, in a normal war--"
Me: "Oh, come on, by the time the government has gotten around to seizing miniatures, SOMEONE will have broken out the nukes."
Friends can be so entertaining sometimes.
[PAUSE]
Me: "So, we're talking about World War III here, and your biggest concern is that the government might take your miniatures?"
Adam: "That's a lot of freakin' money!"
Me: "I just, when you weigh probability of nuke landing on house against government taking your minis, it just seems like a weird concern to me."
Adam: "Well, in a normal war--"
Me: "Oh, come on, by the time the government has gotten around to seizing miniatures, SOMEONE will have broken out the nukes."
Friends can be so entertaining sometimes.
Nov 14, 2008
Quantum of Solace
I have to say that I still like Daniel Craig as the new James Bond more than I expected to, but there's something fundamentally *off* about Quantum of Solace. It's difficult to put your finger on precisely what's wrong with the movie, but it falls seriously flat.
The first thing that is obviously not right is the plot. It starts out well enough, with Bond on a mission to root out the secret organization that was moving behind the scenes in Casino Royale. There is actually quite a bit of highly entertaining cleverness as James runs into unexpected situations, yet takes advantage of them with skill and iron nerves. He manages to track down a man who has all the hallmarks of being the organization's go-to guy, a minor cog in the machine that might lead to greater cogs and exposure of the entire complex.
And there it just kind of . . . stops. Instead of leading into a fantastic global conspiracy or anything that might resemble a real Bond villain, you get left with a sordid little two-bit scam. A scam. To corner the water market. In Bolivia.
Let me reiterate: Global high-powered conspiracy turns into scam to corner the water market in Bolivia. Not even a particularly *clever* scam, either, if you know *anything* about basic economics. The villain's big threat? "We now control 60% of the water resources in the country."
Okay, let's follow this logic for just a second here. What the heck are they going to do with that water? Keep in mind that they've just spent a tremendous amount of money building secret underground dams in order to collect this water. If they just *cut off the supply*, they've sunk a bunch of money into this scheme for nothing . . . except that the price of water will skyrocket and all their *competitors* (you know, the people who control the remaining 40%) will make a killing. Or, let's say they raise their prices through the roof--then their competitors will just charge slightly less and STILL make a killing, because all those competitors aren't bearing the cost of building all the expensive secret dams.
I mean, it's literally mind-boggling how bad of an idea this scam is. I think it's probably about 80% of what's wrong with the movie, really, but coupled with the stoic, low-key acting, the fact that numerous characters are marched onscreen only to be resolutely whacked several scenes later, and that no one really seems interested in the GLOBAL CONSPIRACY going on in the background, and you have a real recipe for a train wreck.
Yes, there are chase scenes and explosions, but granted that most of the action scenes use the fast-cuts-violently-shaking-camera cinematography that for some reason has become popular, they just aren't as cool as you might think. The occasional moment where the camera HOLDS STILL so that you can actually watch what's going on is really awesome. The rest of the movie, not so much.
Heck, even the TRAILERS were boring. An Adam Sandler/Walt Disney comedy. Eh. A new movie about a plot to assassinate Hitler--starring Tom cruise. PASS. A disaster movie starring Keanu Reaves. PAAAASSS. A conspiracy movie starring that guy from Shoot 'Em Up involving an Evil Bank--can you say "ripped from the headlines" topical crapola? PASS!!
Sigh.
The first thing that is obviously not right is the plot. It starts out well enough, with Bond on a mission to root out the secret organization that was moving behind the scenes in Casino Royale. There is actually quite a bit of highly entertaining cleverness as James runs into unexpected situations, yet takes advantage of them with skill and iron nerves. He manages to track down a man who has all the hallmarks of being the organization's go-to guy, a minor cog in the machine that might lead to greater cogs and exposure of the entire complex.
And there it just kind of . . . stops. Instead of leading into a fantastic global conspiracy or anything that might resemble a real Bond villain, you get left with a sordid little two-bit scam. A scam. To corner the water market. In Bolivia.
Let me reiterate: Global high-powered conspiracy turns into scam to corner the water market in Bolivia. Not even a particularly *clever* scam, either, if you know *anything* about basic economics. The villain's big threat? "We now control 60% of the water resources in the country."
Okay, let's follow this logic for just a second here. What the heck are they going to do with that water? Keep in mind that they've just spent a tremendous amount of money building secret underground dams in order to collect this water. If they just *cut off the supply*, they've sunk a bunch of money into this scheme for nothing . . . except that the price of water will skyrocket and all their *competitors* (you know, the people who control the remaining 40%) will make a killing. Or, let's say they raise their prices through the roof--then their competitors will just charge slightly less and STILL make a killing, because all those competitors aren't bearing the cost of building all the expensive secret dams.
I mean, it's literally mind-boggling how bad of an idea this scam is. I think it's probably about 80% of what's wrong with the movie, really, but coupled with the stoic, low-key acting, the fact that numerous characters are marched onscreen only to be resolutely whacked several scenes later, and that no one really seems interested in the GLOBAL CONSPIRACY going on in the background, and you have a real recipe for a train wreck.
Yes, there are chase scenes and explosions, but granted that most of the action scenes use the fast-cuts-violently-shaking-camera cinematography that for some reason has become popular, they just aren't as cool as you might think. The occasional moment where the camera HOLDS STILL so that you can actually watch what's going on is really awesome. The rest of the movie, not so much.
Heck, even the TRAILERS were boring. An Adam Sandler/Walt Disney comedy. Eh. A new movie about a plot to assassinate Hitler--starring Tom cruise. PASS. A disaster movie starring Keanu Reaves. PAAAASSS. A conspiracy movie starring that guy from Shoot 'Em Up involving an Evil Bank--can you say "ripped from the headlines" topical crapola? PASS!!
Sigh.
Nov 6, 2008
Fallout 3 Screenshot
I'm going to review this game in full later, but for now I'm just posting this screenshot I made. (I also have an ulterior motive for this, but I ain't tellin'.)
Oct 12, 2008
Painting VI
Okay, so I wasn't as finished tonight as I thought. I made some minor changes that I think help a lot.
Oct 11, 2008
Painting V
And here's Haden, finally. I tried to go with more dramatic lighting this time through, but I'm not sure it was completely successful. I think he looks decent, though.
Painting IV
I'm still messing around with this painting, which I see now more as an exercise than a discrete work. I fixed the neck, which was too long, and made some other minor changes. I also did something with the background, which was kind of blah before. (In case you're wondering, it's supposed to be a cave. It makes me insane when people look at my pictures and ask "what's that?" Eyeballs! Use them!)
Oct 3, 2008
Hurricane Ike: Kicking Ohio's Ass
What do you get when you combine:
many big old brittle trees
70 mph winds
One day without power, three weeks with no phone and no internet, that's what. It really reminded me of the situation in Virginia when we'd get big snowstorms. No one knew what to do or how to do it, so we wound up sitting around for quite some time before the streets got cleared and it was possible to go outside again.
We were lucky--many people were without power for almost as long as we were without internet. You just don't *get* 70 mph winds in Ohio. Well, unless it's a tornado, which is an entirely different sort of problem. Tornadoes tend to be localized. They don't knock out entire states.
many big old brittle trees
70 mph winds
One day without power, three weeks with no phone and no internet, that's what. It really reminded me of the situation in Virginia when we'd get big snowstorms. No one knew what to do or how to do it, so we wound up sitting around for quite some time before the streets got cleared and it was possible to go outside again.
We were lucky--many people were without power for almost as long as we were without internet. You just don't *get* 70 mph winds in Ohio. Well, unless it's a tornado, which is an entirely different sort of problem. Tornadoes tend to be localized. They don't knock out entire states.
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