I suppose I could put up a bio, probably under Bard_Bloom. I'm rather shy of writing about myself, though. I think you met Floki on FurryMUCK occasionally, though.
Do them for love, because you certainly won't make money from them.
Not necessarily true! If our distributor pays us (unlikely, as they going bankrupt or something exciting like that) we might eventually break even on World Tree -- and could, potentially, keep going!
But no, IBM pays the bills. Writing is a hobby only. And I'd rather keep it that way ... I used to enjoy programming as much as writing, but after a while of doing it for work, I almost never do it for fun anymore.
Figures. This poll works fine. The one I actually want, the serious one, which has the same XML tags as far as I can tell, doesn't work. And by the time I figure that out, someone's already answered this one...
If this one gets more responses than the real one, I'm definitely gonna ... um ... try to talk Albert Camus into paying a visit to Pres. Bush.
[Scene: The Oval Office. Bush is taking a quick nap, and awakes with a jump. Camus, ghostly and vague, appears and taps him on the shoulder.]
Camus: American President! I have come from beyond the grave to haunt you!
Bush: Wha? Who are you? What are you?
Camus: I am the ghost of Albert Camus!
Bush: Who?
Camus: Albert Camus! An Existantialist novelist, a fighter with the French Resistance, a Nobel Laureate!
Bush: You're French? Buncha cowardly frogs! Didn't stand up to the Nazis, aren't gonna stand up to Saddam Hussein!
Camus: [spluttering] I did indeed stand up to the Nazis! I was a member of the French Resistance!
This one went the wrong direction. It was supposed to have Camus and Bush wondering why, specifically, Camus' ghost was visiting Bush ... existential speculation that the afterlife is as bleak and empty of meaning as ordinary life ... that sort of thing. In this case it's correct: all the entries in that quiz were chosen by m-x flame, a random word generator for emacs.
Batman's paramour loves Almond-Jes -- the new improved melted butter flavored snack! It is better to put a diary in my fist than have an information automation. You stole Mr. Oyster Gauss's selfish star, you judge. Something tells me that the more carps you have, the better.
While you're in Saigon, why don't you have to see Princess Bucky-Paul Smythe in the nude with Judge Gilda Rembrandt? Why don't you play with me any more? I mean, How come a Mr. Latin Person like Ms. Salamander thinks that gay people are inherently superior to Sicilian people? Only an underpriviledged nursling like you would be insulted by having your intelligence compared to a hatchet.
Read my lips, a man who doesn't love a wombat is a man who doesn't like animals at all. What kind of a trisexual thinks that the best turkey in the world comes from France? Your information use case would never appeal to Mister Lass. Prevent further philosophers!
Why, your riches is jammed up your pipe! Hang-Chaz loves Banana Haunches -- the loose snack substance! I hate you, you accountant. If you read GODS FROM OUTER SPACE, you'll discover that you're Saint Biffles's hit man.
Don't be a head-hunter -- use Wim-Pul! Mr. Rogers's mother has nine mothers, and you'd know it if you had the intelligence God gave a mastodon. Is it strange to want to have a kiss with wereslugs? A sweet cream shake would be too fattening.
You have the intellect of a long-tongued panting satyr. You could learn to drink water! You offered Mr. Eric Cabot $81.00 if he would pity Gary Gygax. If you're tired of steak, you're tired of life, too.
Oh, that was wonderful. I almost did a spit take onto my keyboard, thanks a lot. :) For some reason this makes me imagine a sort of Grant Morrison time-traveling super-hero squad made up of Camus, Italo Calvino and James Joyce. Calvino and Joyce confuse the evildoers, and while they're distracted, Camus sucks them into the Existential Void!
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no subject
Date: 2003-03-12 07:14 pm (UTC)Dear Bard,
Frankly, I adore reading about Sythyry as a character. It's wonderfully alien, with a different sense than myself.
On the other hand, I know almost nothing about Bard Bloom. Or the other characters you have up your sleeve.
My suggestion... do what you want with your journals. Do them for love, because you certainly won't make money from them.
-- Chip
no subject
Date: 2003-03-13 04:53 am (UTC)Do them for love, because you certainly won't make money from them.
Not necessarily true! If our distributor pays us (unlikely, as they going bankrupt or something exciting like that) we might eventually break even on World Tree -- and could, potentially, keep going!
But no, IBM pays the bills. Writing is a hobby only. And I'd rather keep it that way ... I used to enjoy programming as much as writing, but after a while of doing it for work, I almost never do it for fun anymore.
no subject
Date: 2003-03-12 07:20 pm (UTC)Figures. This poll works fine. The one I actually want, the serious one, which has the same XML tags as far as I can tell, doesn't work. And by the time I figure that out, someone's already answered this one...
If this one gets more responses than the real one, I'm definitely gonna ... um ... try to talk Albert Camus into paying a visit to Pres. Bush.
[Scene: The Oval Office. Bush is taking a quick nap, and
awakes with a jump. Camus, ghostly and vague, appears and
taps him on the shoulder.]
Camus: American President! I have come from beyond the grave
to haunt you!
Bush: Wha? Who are you? What are you?
Camus: I am the ghost of Albert Camus!
Bush: Who?
Camus: Albert Camus! An Existantialist novelist, a fighter
with the French Resistance, a Nobel Laureate!
Bush: You're French? Buncha cowardly frogs! Didn't
stand up to the Nazis, aren't gonna stand up to Saddam
Hussein!
Camus: [spluttering] I did indeed stand up to the Nazis! I
was a member of the French Resistance!
Bush: Yeah, the French are resistin', all right.
Camus: Pah, this is hopeless! [stalks off]
no subject
Date: 2003-03-12 09:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-13 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-13 04:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-13 06:55 am (UTC)You can choose English, Esperanto, Klingon and Latin and choose whether you want to Jabber in Prose or Verse.
It's amused me muchly.
no subject
Date: 2003-03-13 07:53 am (UTC)m-x flame is more of, well, a flame generator.
Batman's paramour loves Almond-Jes -- the new improved
melted butter flavored snack! It is better to put a diary
in my fist than have an information automation. You stole
Mr. Oyster Gauss's selfish star, you judge. Something tells
me that the more carps you have, the better.
While you're in Saigon, why don't you have to see Princess
Bucky-Paul Smythe in the nude with Judge Gilda Rembrandt?
Why don't you play with me any more? I mean, How come a
Mr. Latin Person like Ms. Salamander thinks that gay people
are inherently superior to Sicilian people? Only an
underpriviledged nursling like you would be insulted by
having your intelligence compared to a hatchet.
Read my lips, a man who doesn't love a wombat is a man who
doesn't like animals at all. What kind of a trisexual
thinks that the best turkey in the world comes from France?
Your information use case would never appeal to Mister Lass.
Prevent further philosophers!
Why, your riches is jammed up your pipe! Hang-Chaz loves
Banana Haunches -- the loose snack substance! I hate you,
you accountant. If you read GODS FROM OUTER SPACE, you'll
discover that you're Saint Biffles's hit man.
Don't be a head-hunter -- use Wim-Pul! Mr. Rogers's mother
has nine mothers, and you'd know it if you had the
intelligence God gave a mastodon. Is it strange to want to
have a kiss with wereslugs? A sweet cream shake would be
too fattening.
You have the intellect of a long-tongued panting satyr. You
could learn to drink water! You offered Mr. Eric Cabot
$81.00 if he would pity Gary Gygax. If you're tired of
steak, you're tired of life, too.
no subject
Date: 2003-03-13 09:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-03-13 06:57 am (UTC)For some reason this makes me imagine a sort of Grant Morrison time-traveling super-hero squad made up of Camus, Italo Calvino and James Joyce. Calvino and Joyce confuse the evildoers, and while they're distracted, Camus sucks them into the Existential Void!