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Alone Without

Another rough poem. Enjoy

I'm up again.
Heavy-limbed and bleary-eyed
Unsteady on limbs always racked with pain.
I'm answering a call far louder then it needs to be with all the purpose of marathon runner
and possibly making a few mistakes.

Life is simpler without a child.
Simpler
Quieter
Neater
I'm never outsmarted by someone who still can't make sentences or walk on his own.
(well, maybe the cats)
It's simpler
but never better.

I'm aware, now, of pain that may never be cured
Already understood by a child more clever then Josephus in the well.
But the agony
the Aloneness that makes it unbearable
Shivers and crumbles when I look into those endlessly blue eyes.
It's simpler to be alone
But alone is where you never want to be.
1.) Patience is the only way to survive parenting.
2.) Your baby will outsmart you.
3.) Babies require physical affection (snuggles) at least as much as food and shelter.
4.) Cats & dogs that have grown up in a loving environment will treat your baby well.
5.) Babies cannot distinguish between hunger and pain, particularly newborns.
6.) Babies don't know who or what you're angry at - they always assume it's them.
7.) It doesn't matter if you're ugly, fat, served time in prison, have been committed to a loony bin, don't know what you're doing, or don't deserve it: you baby loves you. Your job is to be or become the sort of person who deserves that kind of love.
8.) Be the sort of person you want your baby to become.
9.) Treat your baby the way you want them to treat others.
10.) Give your baby every advantage you can. Hardships will come soon enough.
11.) Babies don't wear things out - so accept as many hand-me-downs as you can. At most, they'll need light repair work (buttons) or a good wash.
12.) Pass on your used baby stuff. It'll give you room to do all those grown-up things you used to do (like walk through your house).
13.) Babies that are read to become smarter then those that are not.
14.) Curious babies become intelligent people. Yes, that means they'll destroy more stuff along the way - but the PhD will make it all worth it in the end.
15.) Listen to other moms. Some of what they say is worth ignoring, most of it is pure gold.
16.) You need time for you. However you have to get such time, get it.
17.) The more people that are involved in the raising of your child, the more sociable and confidant the child. Daddys should lend a hand in everything (yes, everything but breastfeeding) - it helps teach the baby that more people love them.
18.) Your baby is not a statistical creature. If something happens or doesn't happen the way all the books and website says: don't worry. Unless the pediatrician says worry, then you should do something about it.
19.) Ask and accept help when you need it.
20.) For the love of all that is holy, trust your instincts!!!!

My D&D Character Results

I Am A: Neutral Good Human Druid (5th Level)


Ability Scores:

Strength-8

Dexterity-10

Constitution-11

Intelligence-17

Wisdom-14

Charisma-15


Alignment:
Neutral Good A neutral good character does the best that a good person can do. He is devoted to helping others. He works with kings and magistrates but does not feel beholden to them. Neutral good is the best alignment you can be because it means doing what is good without bias for or against order. However, neutral good can be a dangerous alignment when it advances mediocrity by limiting the actions of the truly capable.


Race:
Humans are the most adaptable of the common races. Short generations and a penchant for migration and conquest have made them physically diverse as well. Humans are often unorthodox in their dress, sporting unusual hairstyles, fanciful clothes, tattoos, and the like.


Class:
Druids gain power not by ruling nature but by being at one with it. They hate the unnatural, including aberrations or undead, and destroy them where possible. Druids receive divine spells from nature, not the gods, and can gain an array of powers as they gain experience, including the ability to take the shapes of animals. The weapons and armor of a druid are restricted by their traditional oaths, not simply training. A druid's Wisdom score should be high, as this determines the maximum spell level that they can cast.


Find out What Kind of Dungeons and Dragons Character Would You Be?, courtesy of Easydamus (e-mail)

broken

I do not collect broken people.

I don't go around to shelters and say
Tell me your story!
I'm here to listen and to care for you
[because no one else will]
Tell me what happened
And I won't judge you

I won't blame you
Because your short was too short your heels were too high your feet showed too much you had on too much make up you drank a lot you let me buy you a drink you flirted with me you don't have the right to say no hold still you fucking bitch or I'll cut your throat I'll tell everyone what a slut you are I'll dance on your grave while I laugh at your funeral while me and my buddies laugh about how easy it was to get your legs apart

it wasn't your fault

I don't collect broken people

I don't really have to
There's so many of them
You just have to sit still
and listen.

Their voices are like leaves on a soft fall day
I'm sorry don't notice me why are they looking it's all my fault it's all my fault my parents will know my father doesn't love me any more why did I wear that maybe I should stay at home I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry

I'm sorry


I don't collect broken women

They come to me singly
Looking for a friend
Someone who stops to ask
someone who cares

Trying to be whole
When the world around them is broken.

Looky!! Real Writing!!!

This is a stream-of-conciousness draft, spell-checked for Your Sanity (tm). I'm not even going to call it a first draft: it's that rough. But, it's a story, and it proves that I'm getting back into writing again.

Oh, and while most of it is deliberately cryptic (and a lot will probably be explained in future drafts), I will say that the character dies in the end.

Peace Out.

Freefall

She sailed towards tiny droplets, each one reflecting the same image of a control panel waiting to be activated. Only they weren't reflections: the only other thing in her sky was the planet far, far below. She almost felt like she was gliding across the planet's atmosphere, rather then falling towards it. The invisible air pocket of the station was about to end, but she still needed more of those strange drops if she was going to live. “They form most effectively in micro gravity,” the general's voice whispered in her mind, buffered by the constant spitting of heavy drops against her bare skin. Well, they had better start forming.

Even as she thought that it started. A living feeling, as though some gooey mass was devouring her arm – the drops were starting to form! An odd smell, like plastic and rotten flesh filled her mouth just as she broke the pocket's lower edge. Cold, utter and complete filled her universe for a split second until the Suit finally kicked in. The faint whistling of wind, barely enough for her to register continued, but now she was exhilarated. She could feel her new, second skin still learning how to act, how to move and get used to her body even as it became more responsive to her needs. Finally, the first wisps of cloud floated by: and she couldn't feel the Suit at all.

Now there was the ground to deal with. She willed the Suit to grow membranes between her arms and body. Small, far-too-delicate flaps appeared, then quickly shrunk back under the rising pressure of air. Worried, she tried again. This time the Suit realized what she wanted – a fly suit. Now thick, pebbly wings spread between her arms to her legs, and between her legs like a fan. She could steer!

Could she do more? She willed wings to appear, but couldn't quite work out in her own mind what they would have to look like. The Suit started to form some grotesque parodies of angel wings, which retracted when she gave up on the idea.

Farmland. Some of the fields carefully tilled and planted to look like the face of some local candidate up for election. She didn't recognize the dark, confidant features – but she didn't really care. The ground was visible through the cloud cover. She saw several military facilities, and a few sites for aircraft landing: but didn't know her target well enough to identify it this high up. She needed time. She needed to slow down.

The membranes extended and stiffened without her even willing it. The ground continued to rush towards her, but she had more time now.

There – that complex, next to one of the faces. It was larger then the others, but much better fortified. Exactly the spot the general would like to run her new pet project from.

A twitch in her arm. She raised her hand with her finger and thumb in an “L”. Inside the L, a screen had formed, rapidly paging through the available military networks. Hundreds of faces and data logs appeared, trying to match what she needed to know about her landing site with what the network was aware of. She glanced down. The world was way too close now. Then, her hands fired.

Thrusters. How could a Suit power thrusters? Never mind, she was flying! Her hands and feet directed concentrated blasts to bring her closer to the target she had chosen. She dipped low, a single thrust blasting the head clean off a farmer that had stopped to watch her in awe. Never mind, the mission was nearly done. There was the building – and the techs that she had briefed with at the beginning!

She landed, confidant, and strode past them into the waiting corridor beyond. A strange, goaty sort of dwarf appeared to talk to the technicians hurrying to follow her. There: the change room. Then, the general.

“Good afternoon, ma'am. I'll get out of this now, then I'm bringing it with me.” Simple. Neat. Direct. No one challenged her, no one would. As she stepped in, she heard the dwarf say something about “addictive” followed by the general's shrill whisper of “why couldn't you tell us that before?!”

No matter. It was hers.

The change room contained a tank, clearly designed for her. She climbed in easily, and was disturbed to find the dwarf take the controls. He smiled horribly. There's something wrong with his teeth, but she couldn't figure out what. “You just stay there, this'll all be over soon.”

A wave of softness overcame her. She was so tired. And that plastic smell was back. And the cold. And white.

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Trying, trying...

Y'know, this post-a-day would be a lot easier if I had something to write about.

So far, Roland has been moderately fussy (more Maroon 5 then Metallica). He doesn't want to sleep for long periods - though, at least one of that can be attributed to a certain German Shepard wanting to clean his face mid-nap. (sigh)

Though I have to admit: Wolfy has been pretty amazing with the baby. He obviously understands that he has to be gentle, even when he's jealous of how much more attention his mommy gives Roland. He'll guard his teeth to avoid scratching, doesn't swipe with his paws (he tried to tug at Roland's blanky twice, but stopped when scolded). We're not about to give them unsupervised visits (Wolfy's still just a toddler himself - a toddler who's bigger then most Labradors with a full set of bear-like teeth), but I'm not on my guard when the puppy comes to blick his little boy. In about a year or so, I think the two of them will be full playmates. :-)

Book is coming along. I've discovered a new cheat: use the Aberdeen Bestiary to pick out names of animals, then use those names as ship and equipment classifications according to their medieval-ascribed properties.

Ok, less of a cheat and more of "rampant over-thinking;" but hey, it works for me.

Thinking cupcakes later. No reason, just thinking I could use some cupcakes.

Peace Out.

It begins (again)

Part of the new household chore system includes me blogging once a day - a habit I've been meaning to get back into, so here goes... I've been kicked into a lower end of depression, so getting anything at all done today is going to be an accomplishment. Emotionally I'm just down, but physically it's like I'm treading water. Hopefully tai chi later will help, but I'm probably going to need a location change to actually pull out of this one. Anyone feel like helping me pack? :-) Baby boy is currently tired enough to be caterwauling, but that should pass soon. Helps when I can bounce him in his chair. Writing-wise I'm doing some interesting research to find planetary, ship, and station names. Sam's rather brilliant idea of using all pantheons has left me with a glut of considerations, most of which are narrowed down by "what Patty can pronounce while still keeping her toungue attached in her mouth." I've worked out the bare bones of the first two books in the series; after that, though, I'm having some trouble. Guess that's why they need to be written in sequence! Odd, how writing books is less about "creating" and more about "discovering" for me. Maybe that's normal? Sleepy little boy's eyes are drooping. Guess it's time for laundry and tai chi! Peace Out.

Opening to "Spirit"

Had an interesting, anime-esque dream that I thought I'd write down. I have the story sketched out (very roughly), and I finished the following two paragraphs while I was at it. Enjoy!


A thousand years has passed since mankind knew it was doomed for extinction. Several comedic historians had joked that the greatest surprise was not our inevitable destruction, but the fact that it wasn't brought about by our own hand. Indeed, we had fought our doom tooth and nail from the very beginning; even when our homeworld lay in ashes we had refused to give up. Hell, even now that the truth is known people work and fight to provide a better life for the next generation – refusing to admit that, eventually, there won't be one to live that life.

Two races, old and long since soulless, had decided to make mankind the center of an experiment that would inevitably lead to our total annihilation. True, they hadn't expected us to put up nearly as much of a fight as we had; but they were patient, and cruel. They saw our living souls and vibrant lust for life and hated us for it. Some argued that even if we weren't picked for the Observation, we would have had to have been wiped out anyway. We lived, they existed, and they could not bear the reminder.




Peace Out.

Rough Draft

For My Son

I am strong.

Though my foot trembles with every step
and my hand shakes at every pass
I go on.

For within my heart lies the inheritance of kings and dragons
my soul the soul of gods

My body is broken and I weep for agony
But I go on

For I have you to live for.

...just thinkin'...

This is neither the exciting conclusion to my labor/surgery/hospitalization story (said story is currently languishing on my external drive, waiting for one of my computers to rise from the dead and release it) nor is it a cute baby story (say sorry). Instead it's just me, thinking - and committing my thoughts to an electronic medium (since getting committed to a hospital medium tends to be a lot pricier).

There's a fundamental law of biology that states that an exponential growth rate cannot be maintained in nature. Eventually, you exhaust your resources, your predators catch up, or (most likely) both. A few people here would doubtless give the "rabbits in Australia" argument: but I would remind them that we never actually saw how that one played out. When it became obvious how badly we fucked things up, we introduced another invasive species to deal with the problem. Well, I guess it was more of us launching a biological weapon against rabbits then launching a new invasive species...but hey, same argument, different catchphrases.

Same argument for Guam, Hawaii, and anywhere else that humans screwed things up and tried various (and increasingly scary) methods to "fix" it. All of those conditions were artificially interfered with before we could actually watch how they concluded.

The best example for this is actually on the far Eastern side of the Indian subcontinent; where every 30-some years the massive bamboo forests bloom, drop fruits, and are suddenly overrun with millions of surplus rats. Also the ancestors of modern domestic chickens...but the rats actually bother people, so let's stick to them.

Bamboo doesn't often give fruit, but when it does...it does in spades. Enough to fill the bellies of far more rodents then their forests can usually support - which is why, for a few months, the rodent population goes [boom] - eating all the fruits, all the local fauna they normally would, all of the neatly planted fields of crops the humans in the area depend on to live, and occasionally houses and buildings. Then, just a they start to gnaw on concrete foundations...you start finding the piles of dead rats.

Note: I have nothing against tourism in SE Asia. Stop looking at me like that, I'm just making a point here from known data!!!

This entire population cycle lasts maybe a year until the majority of rats starve to death, die of disease, or are killed by predators (including humans, who have found quite a number of ways of cooking rats in that area). The population goes back to pre-bamboo-bloom levels, and those humans that didn't starve to death make with the replanting and rebuilding (most farming in that area is subsistence level, so the whole "plague of rats" thing is actually worse then I've made it sound here).

The conclusion? Yes, there was a sudden, exponential growth. But after the freaky growth conditions collapsed (trees stopped producing fruit), there was a sudden, exponential decline. This isn't odd, nor even unexpected: this is the norm in nature.

Now, for my point (which, curiously, has nothing to do with nature): technology has grown exponentially from the beginning of agriculture to this point, when one maps growth of technology against time. Yes, it's mostly a gradual curve...but once you hit "broadcast over radio frequencies," this shit takes off! Possibly earlier then that - no, I'm not getting dragged into that argument - but the shape of the curve is fairly obvious when the overall lifespan of human technology is taken together.

This fact occurred to me when I was trying to compare the growth of the information age to an age before it. The closest I got was either the Mongol expansion or the Age of Discovery/Conquest, depending on how you want to map it out. But in terms of time versus technological growth, there's really no comparison. We've grown more in the past 100 years then the technology of man has developed until that point. Or if not that much, very close to it. It's crazy. Never mind the whole Internet phenomena (which is nuts) we can fly to other planets. Heck, a journey that would have taken our very near ancestors months is an inconvenience of a few hours to us, and it only takes that long because most of us have to fly commercial.

But so far the only limiting factors I've found are cost and battery life. The cost issue really isn't (if you have something sufficiently advanced, you can find someone to pay for it). The battery issue is far more interesting: compare a battery to the processing power of the smart phone it powers, and you have something as efficient as climbing Everest with a unicycle.

Yes, yes I would pay to watch that.

I know all my uber-geeks out there are calling out words that sound a lot like "biobattery" and "microfusion" - but let's be honest, if it's not in the public eye I can't fairly count it as even existing (again, say sorry). No, for right here and now we're stuck with good ole lithium-ion and all it's cro magnun cousins. They're dangerous, inefficient, bulky, heavy...and the only factor currently limiting the growth of our technologies.

Really. That's the only one I've been able to find - and I keep up with this sort of thing.

Soooooooooooo........does this mean our technological growth is going to keep going at this rate? I mean, it's conceivable that some of the rumored replacements to chemical batteries are already powering military and Evil Corporation devices - and even if they're not, they'll get here sooner then you may think. Which makes me wonder if there's anything that we don't know we don't know about that will suddenly take our growth levels down a very steep, exponential decline.

I guess that may be me looking for trouble where it most likely doesn't exist, but the scientist in me is genuinely curious for an answer. Can the development of the artificial follow the same growth laws of Nature? If so, what's going to be the hand that smacks us down, and how far down would we be smacked?

Something to chew on...

Peace Out.