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| 2008-09-16 19:14 |
| Free books to good home |
| Public |
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Hi, F-list, if you want any of these, comment to claim, email or private message me with your address, paypal the shipping cost, and it's yours.
1. Under the Glass Moon by Ya-seong Ko, book 1 & 2
2. FAKE by Sanami Matoh, vol 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7
3. Non-translated manga originals of Feverish, Golden Prince and Argent King, Great Place High School.
4. How to draw Manga: Bishoujo Pretty Gals by Hikaru Hayashi
5. The Complete Sherlock Holmes (Volume 1 of 2) - old hardback, preface by Christopher Morley
6. McCall's Big Book of Bazaar Crafts
If only de-cluttering a house was as easy as de-cluttering a hard drive...
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| 2008-07-26 09:19 |
| A damn good reason to put your lids on jars before you trash them or better yet, recycle |
| Public |
| heroic |
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It's a perfect night for a motorcycle ride. At eleven, we are flying home past the state police station. Actually, A. is, I just hold onto her humming Sweet Transvestite at the wind. (We just saw Rocky Horror Picture Show at the local theater.)
As we park, an odd cat with arched back tiptoes across the lot from the trash cans to the nearest car.
Not a cat. A raccoon, scrawny critter with his head stuck in a jar.
Oh, great!
I jump off the bike; A. rushes to get some towels. Carefully we stalk over and peek underneath the car.
The raccoon is small, teenager size: just the size to prowl around sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. The jar around his head and neck is glass, thin enough to show the twitching nose and two sad eyes. Looks like he realised already that he's in deep trouble; he isn't even trying to run, just keeps out of our reach.
I sit down on the pavement, make eye contact, and - for the lack of any other ideas - start sweet-talking him into coming closer. Who knows, it might work! If I ever encountered a sweet-talking circling shark, I'll be more likely to jump right into the water.
We go through all the pet names I can produce on short notice and several reasons why he won't make it a day wearing a jar on his head and should just let me take it off now.
Cue the car lights and the neighbor kid in the bright yellow shirt eager to impress the two girls with him: 'What's that? Oh. sure I can grab him! I watch Animal Planet ALL THE TIME!'
Oh dear.
A mad fruitless leap for the scared raccoon and one stained yellow shirt later, the neighbour kid of the same mental age and capacity as our critter finally disappears.
All grows quiet. It's a different car now. More sweet-talking. The raccoon rests his helmetted chin on the pavement in despair. I do the same.
From the dark corner of the parking lot, a pair of spectators watch intently. They're larger than our raccoon and seem rather worried, must be the mom and dad then. Good.
Ten minutes. More talking. The raccoon darts away but he almost let me touch the jar. Progress!
Five more minutes. The raccoon inches closer.
I slowly reach just enough to touch the glass jar and then grab! Yeah, I don't know any better, and neither does he.
By the jar, I pull the growling, struggling, clawing raccoon out and yell for A. and those towels. I hold him by the back like a cat; he wiggles and growls and swings his claws every which way.
No more sweet-talking.
We wrap him up. I pull the jar. It's stuck tight. Reluctant to twist, I yank harder instead.
With a pop, it comes off. A. tosses the wrapped up raccoon on the ground because accidental clawing is one thing, but neither of us wants to go in for the rabies shots after a deliberate bite.
An extremely ruffled head peeks out and the sore-necked, terrified raccoon makes a wild dash for his dear mom and dad.
We cheer and clap as we watch him go.
Another raccoon spectator by the trash can surveys with a sad look of 'should've left him to it, idiots'. He's wrong! The brat is young, he didn't deserve it.
We go inside to lick our wounds and disinfect the scratches on my arm.
"Wow," A. says: "That's an unusual eighth anniversary." (We met eight years ago. Time flies.)
I grin. "Wait till our ninth!"
This morning, my scratches are healing. I am still smiling. It's good to save a life.
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| 2008-07-02 20:30 |
| RepRap, original fiction rec, geeky gadget admiration |
| Public |
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When I was first getting into the wild and wondeful world of linux and open source software, I ran across a short story called Printcrime. It was memorable enough that a year later I still recalled the concluding words and was able to locate the original from an approximate quote.
"Lanie, I'm going to print more printers. Lots more printers. One for everyone. That's worth going to jail for. That's worth anything." Printcrime by Cory Doctorow
The story told of the effect that an invention of a 3D object printer had on law and society. It was fiction. But a few weeks ago I saw glimpses of that fiction in reality. The RepRap printer designs are still primitive, but just imagine the possibilities. 3D art printed as sculptures of wax or plastic, machinery and spare parts made from downloadable designs right on your desktop, computer hardware copied as easily as a digital file... and and and the printer would be able to clone itself! Isn't it awesome?
Yeah, OK, I'm a nerd. But things like these make me realize: I love technology as much as I love to draw.
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Lord Voldemort and his cherryEvery respectable Dark Lord needs a minion. My Voldemort needed that minion: a Roborovski dwarf with a face of an ewok spinning his exersize wheel fast enough to power a laptop battery. The minion's back was golden brown, his belly - fuzzy-white, his legs as long and skinny as a sparrow's. He was tiny, half of Voldemort's current (popcorn and cashews affected) size. 
You won't eat me, will you?Robo and Campbell's Russian dwarfs cannot crossbreed. Robo dwarfs live in groups, which meant that the minion might be friendly. When it comes to dealing with company, Campbell dwarfs are a step up from an ordinary hamster. It meant that maybe Voldemort won't bite the competitor's head off right away for putting a paw into his domain. Different kinds of hamsters usually don't mix, but I've found a case online where Robo and Campbell dwarf were getting along. It was better than nothing. As long as we didn't stick them in the same cage, the chances of the minion's survival were good. Separate cages would prevent finding Voldemort gnawing on the minion's skull for breakfast. It was when we (the minion, his new cage, his wheel, and enough hamster treats to feed a minion army) were already on the way home that I discovered how fast robo dwarfs move. As soon as I lowered my hand into his box he popped out of one corner and into the other in a blink of an eye and leapt a half a foot in the air. He had the reflexes of a hummingbird and possibly an 'O' in Advanced Apparation. After a twenty-minute chase he finally settled into my hand. Weightless, curled up to the size of an apricot, he barely covered a quarter of my palm. His fur glowed golden from the car lights. I kept my hand open and still. Holding him was like trying to hold a sparrow. Poised in the middle, tense and shivering, he was ready to dart any second. It felt as if I caught a snitch with my bare hands. Not a metallic contraption, but a living, breathing bird. Snidget. While I ogled him, Snidget fired back a beady-eyed, challenging glare and darted back into the box. The Quidditch chase was on. It was then that a faint suspision grew into an absolute certainty: Snidget was no mere minion, he was a menace all by himself.
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Last week I met Lord Voldemort.
The exact size and color of a large cotton ball, he swung back and forth from the ceiling of his cage in a way that could be mistaken for 'cute' by an unsuspecting Muggle. I wasn't fooled. His eyes glowed red and spoke of world domination.
It had to be the nonverbal Imperius that prompted me to remember an unused aquarium, thumb through the books on hamster care, and spend three times the cost of liberating Voldemort from his pet shop on bare necessities of proper Dark Lord care like treats and toys.
Thus Lord Voldemort acquired a willing human slave. He dug a lair suitable for the evil genius underneath the bum of a giant plushie spider, the size of Aragog in dwarf hamster height.
He approves of cashews and has stashed away food in every corner of his nest. Meanwhile, I'm learning to surf the web with a miniature hamster napping in my pocket.
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Our Games story is up!
Red Right Hand by ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) sinick and ac1d6urnSummary: In a world where winning the war was only half the battle, will Harry Potter's crazy heroics be enough to save an outcast? Prompts: Postwar, AU, Ministry of Magic
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| 2008-03-16 22:14 |
| The future is basic, the future is IJ... (or at least appears to be) |
| Public |
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A quick note. This LJ account is reverting to basic, though I might switch to 'plus' just to prevent broken images for the next few days (sorry for potential ads). All graphics from scrapbook will be relocated elsewhere. So if you're hotlinking for some odd reason... um, feel free to panic? :)
Hello_HBP, T0il_n_tr0uble, and Commonplace Magic posts are already edited with alt image links. Art posts are next. (So not looking forward to editing several years' worth of them, but it needs to be done.)
I'll keep updating here, but more content will be linked to offsite.
On the bright side, the story for the Games is getting easier to write... hard part is over, it's all downhill from here. I think I am beginning to like this draft.
ETA: Artwork is moved here on the scrapbook storage space of a permanent account. I'll be tagging, labeling, and replacing the urls in the next few days.
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I found a digital painting technique that seems to work well. ArtRage 2 chalks smudged with palette knife on color canvas. (See recording of the painting process.)
For best effect, chalks have to be thin (1%-20%) to guarantee color and outline precision and palette knife much thicker (40%-100%) to simulate those smudged broad brushstroke effects.
Painted using a mouse in 30-40 minutes. Recorded with CamStudio by holding down CTRL-Z and watching the painting fade back in time to blank canvas.
I think I'll try drawing with a tablet and using a reference next. This has potential.
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Twitter is an addictively-condensed espresso shot of friends' list that might keep you occupied for hours refreshing one page. It's completely, irredeemably evil. With that in mind, my twitter account is here.
Friend_me@IJ is a community with topic-based friending memes. Current topic is Harry/Snape. It's interesting how likes and dislikes vary from person to person. This pairing is so multifaceted, that it never gets old, does it?
I have three things to contemplate this week:
Post-war - belonging to the period after a war.
Alternate Universe - timestream which splits off from a past event and progresses in a different manner from the base timestream.
Ministry of Magic - In J.K. Rowling's fictional universe of Harry Potter, the Ministry of Magic is the Government for Magical community of the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland. This government succeeded the earlier "Wizards' Council". Throughout the books, the body is depicted as corrupt and blind to actual happenings. These are Sinick's and my prompts for this year's Snarry Games; I fully expect these definitions to grow and take root in my brain before the April deadline. I'm even hoping for a couple of occasional blooms by spring. When we were writing for the Games last year with the prompt 'Grimmauld Place' we had to figure out how to make that grim-old-'n-boring house interesting to read about. This time around, we'll have to try and make post-war politics fun. The challenge of finding something fascinating in ordinary things is becoming a pattern of inspiration; I hope it keeps up. ( The story draft is moving along... )In this year's Games we're in team Phoenix (hence the new icon), competing against team Dragon. Which does bring up a very important question: are phoenixes the new ninjas or the new pirates?
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happy