http://www.samkass.com/theories/RPSSL.html

I tried this out in my mind. Owie. But awesome none the less.


In later news, Tookie is dead. Yup.... Doesn't care.

Christmas removed in stead for Holiday. I'll kill the secularists myself. That's wrong. But my midterm papers on it, so I'm not going to kill my arguments on it now. I'll type it up and post it when I finish.

Bill O'Reilly is still speaking truths, usually. No spin.

Speaking of spin, I have discovered making myself dizzy. In the middle of english today I stood up and started spinning. Yup. Fun. Alot.

And viking tug of war will make it's comeback soon. I said so.

Halo Tourney is being set up in the boron/desert lake/etc area. Were not sure on details and such, but we are pretty sure we can get it all set up. No entry fee as of publishing and location undetermined. Date undetermined.
Tomorrow I see who's the most dominant halo player in this area. Me, Or elyias amaya. I'm going to brush up on all my halo and halo 2 stuff. Actually, starting now.

Yup... that's alot of typing.

Upon being ordered to Research The Teenage Mind in our computer lab today, I decided to sit amongst these creatures, and study them first hand. Here is what I have been offered as evidence.

Patriotic Middle Popularity
Upon being proven wrong, they will dig into popular myths and beliefs to dispute cold hard facts. Head strong, annoying, and effervescent in personality, Clashes with intelligent types unless they need intellectual assistance. I tolerate them.

Militarily Patriotic Idioms
Open minded, but stubborn on their moral views. Will not listen to reason beyond it's use to twist upon others. I dislike most of these types.

Jock-like low brow, high popularity.
Dis-like intellectuals. Violent, Don't listen to reason. Physically, if not mentally, superior then normal people. Will fail in life. I generally dislike these particular teenage organisms.

Athletic High Brow, Hig Popularity
Smarter then your average athlete, also shown to be better at life, more agreeably tempermented. Will concede defeat, but not without due cause. Honorable. Generally liked by most.

Low patriotic, low intelligence, labled trouble maker.
Generally smarter then appearing, really deserving the title mild intelligence, generally more likely to fall under the influences of mind altering subsances then any group except low brow jocks. Will stand up for what they believe, more likely to concede defeat if proven wrong. Generally looked down upon. Don't deserve the trouble maker label, trouble looks for them. Can beat jocks in fair fights. I generally like or respect them.

Poser idealed, unreformed posers.
Poser, Adj, A person trying to change themselves to fit in with a particular popularity group. Usually works so long as they are only among that group. Generally mess up several times before traumatic event either changes them into, or returns them to their orginal, groups. Generally better looking and smarter then popular, but un-discovered talents and social scorn drive them.

Self Idealed, Reformed Posers.
Decidedly better poser types, found who and what they are and returned to it. May not be what is originally percieved, but will make them happier. Appears to be happy and carefree on surface. WARNING: Do not try and correct these organisms, they respond violently with tampering. I generally strongly enjoy their company in mild doses.

Orginals
Not posers, despite modern theory, are themselves and do what they enjoy. Usually of higher intelligence, mild creativity, and high self esteem. May go streaking just to streak, may be Amoral, despite morality, and appears strange. Enjoys art, the opposite sex's company beyond physically oddities. Awesomeness abound.
Myself Falls into this category, slightly.


Conclusion
I hate teenagers sometimes, they are hard to study.

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2005/10/28/tech/gamecore/main992768_page3.shtml

Hat tip: Ctrl+alt+delete, a webcomic.

Very good article.

And the truth.

Sorry I haven't posted in... a long long time.

From this day forward I plan on posting, or publishing it as blogger calls it, the articles of my local journalism class that have merit, whether or not they agree with my idea's. Fair and balanced. I vow that I am, and will, make sure they recieve full credit. Also, I vow that I will not edit their articles, short of obvious spelling mistakes. Like to, too, and two. Other then that, I'm not going to change articles, I'm going to publish all decent articles, etc. I will try and post both liberal, conservative, and moderate articles. I, ofcourse, will get their permission before posting a thing.

That out of the way, how are you? Good, good. THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! HIT THE CLOWN, I REPEAT, HIT THE CLOWN. Good, that's out of the way.

Okay. Here goes my little two-bits.
Jack Thompson. He's the scary guy who was born with a stick up his butt. I don't like him. I wouldn't mind his death. Simply because, he is trying to tell the video game industry what is right, and what is wrong. He did this with movies first, I believe. There was the Hot Cofee incident. (Incidentally, there was nothing wrong with that, it being a M rated game, no one under 18 is supposed to play it), and he's targetted others before and after. He's harrasing webcomic artists, buddy icon sites, and other writers about their critical views of him. Examples? Here we go.

http://www.vgcats.com/jack.php
http://gr.bolt.com/articles/jack/jack.htm

There are two that will direct you to others, and provide proof. He is not a good person. He's why the liberals have so much sway. Radical Fundementalism is as bad as Radical Liberalism. Radical is Radical is Radical is Bad. Simple as that. I dissapprove of the guys who actually want to kill him (assuming there were any before he claimed there were), but now I'm one of the ones who wouldn't care if he died. There would be no ripple in the force, so to say.

Now, I am going to talk about the Xbox 360. Or rather, I'm going to send you over to Major Nelson. He's the Xbox live boss, and seems to be an all around good guy. He can also tell you other things, steer you to links, etc. He was also the first to corpse hump on Halo 2 on the Xbox 360. I wonder who got the first kill?

I may post later, depending on what Bill O'Reilly talks about, if any of them upset me, or I feel like I should talk.

Oh, My, God. I just posted!!! ... Okay, that's out of my system. And if I do that again, please. Reprimand me violently.

I have been messing around, and that's when I was told, again, to play football. So that's what I'm doing. I need to go to tomorrow's practice. And stuff. I don't actually know, but I'll find out.

Also, I'm in Honor's US history, reading out of the most blatantly liberally biased text book I've ever seen. Even my teacher *very liberal, but fair* said that it was ridiculous. Oh well, that's my sit down class with Jennifer *says name with a venerated context*...

On the subject of history, I found this on my personal hero. One Benjamin Franklin. This is, well it's all in the site. Please, read it. It is indeed a true masterpiece, and is well thought out. http://www.usconstitution.net/franklin.html

Back to Blogging, Arrowatch

This is another broad news post, and since i have 0 readers, period, I feel safe in saying that I'm angry. Mike LeClerc was traded off for a conditional draft pick in 2007... 2007!!! Steve Ruccin was also traded off to the coyotes, I think, for a player and conditional draft pick... in 2007... Whoever is doing this is going to regret it. Leclerc is a really good player, with alot of heart. And Steve Ruccin will get the puck almost every time in a face off, the guy has lightning for hands. They are shaking up the roster in bad ways. The ducks are almost out of real ducks on the team. I'm actually really sad.

In good news, Sergei Federov and Jean-Sebastian Giguere are still there... Did I mention that Steve Ruccin has been there his entire 10 yr career? That he was the captain? That this sucks more then they can imagine? That this won't be a good year for the ducks?

No fancy HTML or Markup for me today. To late.

It's 2:25 am, cali time. I'm not tired, but I'm going to retire my butt to bed soon.
Listening to Chop Suey by System Of A Down... My comps somehow losing Virtual Memory so things are running slowly, I think that between the typing, the web page blinking, which I am about to close. Done. That actually helped, but not a great amount. I lay my head back, and sigh. I close my eyes... Only to snap them back open. I can't go to sleep. I'm to awake. When my eyes close, the thoughts come spilling into view, sorting and distorting. I see all my life before me, to mentally grab and view... I realize I'm drifting into sleep when a fly buzzes by my ear. I snap awake and straigthen. I spare the fly for services rendered and send it on it's way. I can feel the weight of the last few years bearing down on my soul. I can actually feel it... between my shoulder blades, kinda pressing down on my lower abdomen and pelvis. It's their... I blink and the usual darkness is exploding lights of thoughts. I know know I am not asleep, but I can hear voices pressing in on my conciousness. Greed, Envy, Lust, Pride, and Anger all press loud and clamoring on my thoughts, just outside the bubble I call my conciousness. A little child in the corner with a small, clear voice tells me they are bad, evil. I've closed my eyes, now, and see the physical scene of this mental issue. A transparent shimmering sheild over a dais and stage... All outside is dark, not evil but mysterious. Inside all is white, graceful curves. Five of the Seven Deadly Sins exist, laying outside the bubble as small multicolor shifting lights, and when one grows particularly loud, a small enraged image of me as that sin pounds on the shield, only to fade back into the light. Anger is the largest, and recently most powerful of these. Inside are quite white lights, shaped as graceful flowing humanoids, in a recess around the dais. They are odd, and I can't identify them, or even if they belong to me. On the stage are more figures, each like me, sitting, standing, leaning. They are all speaking to each other, some arguing, some agreeing, some passing time. White figures drift towards these, then drift back to the crowd. Upon the raised, outwardly flaring dais, stand two regal figures of myself, each with a dark shape on their arms like regal couples. As I mentally draw close I recognize a longer haired version of myself, guitar slung across his back. He stands oddly dominate over the other, and as I move my thoughts closer I see the shape on his arms is my girlfriend, a warm smile on both faces. An aura of calm, assuring, and dominate happiness exudes from the pair. I float around to see the others, resuming my previous distance. My hair is short, and my face oddly scarred, like from fights I'd avoided. I draw a little closer, and see that I am physically stronger, but a slightly menacing stance in my pose halts my progress. For the first time someone acknowledges my presence. All the voices stop speaking, and all faces turn to my little amoeba of thought, the only faces abstaining are the largest two, who continue to stare away from each other, though they stand side to side, akimbo. I drift closer to the second pair, and am startled to see the look of peace in the others, but also the aura of regal menace, not of a want to harm, but perhaps a willingness to if necesary, and an ability to. I draw closer to the shadow, and the shadows from both figures fall. I am startled to see who is on my arm. I am immobolize by surprise, when the slightly darker me reaches out to grab me, make me become him, and so does the dark figure. I become distressed, and the volume of the room erupts, and continues to grow. I grow desperate, but cannot escape. Just as I am encircled in the hand of the menacing figure, I am released. I float back to see the warm figure of myself with the strongers wrist in his hand, and they stare upon each other not with hate, but with warmth and understanding emanating from both. I am again startled by this, until I recognize both. Neither is evil, but both are different. The female figures represent the women who embody my choices. All returns to as it was, as I draw towards the edge of the sheild, when motion and noise errupts from beyond the shield. All the sins are clamoring, yelling, and a dark, menacing shape rises from the darkness beyond the shield and bends to look down upon my little presence. I barely recognize myself, and though I seem stronger then both of the ones on the dais, I am also a twisted wreck, and all alone. Even the sins have backed away from the glowering figure of black. All is quiet outside and in, when a small clear voice rings out like a triumphant clarion in the night, and the dark figure dissapates, and the small child, who resembles nothing of myself, but more that of a small street urchin down on her luck strides back to her her odd corner, and sits back down to her quiet singing. I glide over to her, and she looks directly at me and utters something, small and clear, beautiful beyond man, and I understand it to be time for me to wake. I glide over to the dais, and fly half-way between the shield, and the darkness beyond, and the heads of my selves. I hang their like a guiding and protecting star. I open my eyes and realize, that for all the time this happened, not two seconds have passed. The clock still says the same time, and my song has not progressed but a few notes. I resign myself to return, one day, to my mind, and begin to write the proceedings from my mind. Having finished, at 3:05, I will now publish this post, turn out the last light and turn off the music. I will now sleep. Until then, rest easy, lest my insanity be yours. 3:06, now. Good night.

Armed and Dangerous Congratulations! You scored 88%!

You made it out, alive and well supplied. You probably even kept most of your party alive too. You know what to look for, what to take, and when to just run. You even feel a strange inkling to go back. If you did, you'd probably do just fine.

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender: http://is3.okcupid.com/graphics/0.gif">>

I was wandering around on the web when I remembered a program called Arachnophilia. The only use I've ever put Arachnophilia to was writing online. Arachnophilia is CareWare, which anyone who's looked at mightseem curiously like FreeWare or ShareWare. Well, to be blunt, IT ISN'T. Infact, I'd rather deal with a CareWare program then anything.The premise of CareWare is covered more then I could describe by Paul Lutus, the actual creator of the Arachnophilia program.I have put a permanent link on my sidebar, I wish you all to read it. Personally, I am going to remember more of the article, and use it's premise,not only for myself, but for things that other's would wish of me. I want you all to read it, but I can't make you. I implore you then.But everyone should take a look at it and other articles. Very good.

In other news, I hope my family doesn't read my blog. Because they can be annoying!!! That is why I shan't post this topic here. So there. Nyeah, she, Nyeah.

This is kalroy.

From Blogthings, www.blogthings.com

You Know You're From Hawaii When...
You can understand and speak PIDGIN english.
You go to dinner and "make one plate" with all the extra food leftover.
You automatically take off your shoes in people's homes.
You wear rubber slippers to the beach.
You eat rice every single day.
It's "shave ice" not"snow cones".
When you know NEVER to turn your back facing the ocean.
You know what ukus are and have had them at least once before when you was one little keiki.
You've been to almost all of the other islands.
You get impatient with all of those bikers on the road that came from Haleakala.
When someone says to "dress up" it means one nice aloha shirt and jeans.
You eat coconuts straight from the shell - and drink the juice.
You went to the War Memorial Stadium parking lot to learn how to drive.
You've worked in the pineapple fields.
You know where all the creepy places (like burial sites) are in the island.
You know you aren't supposed to whistle at night time, cross your chopsticks, or stick your fork straight out of your rice.
You have highlighted hair.
You eat Arare.
You know what "tutu" means.
You learned to play the ukulele in elementary school.
It's SHOYU, not soy sauce.
To you, sushi means sushi, not RAW FISH!
You eat malasadas.
You have a billion pairs of slippers in front your door when your family gets together.
Your house has residue from the salty ocean air.
You eat portuguese sausage, eggs, and rice for breakfast.
You buy large quantities of toilet paper in case there’s a longshoreman strike.
You don't understand why anyone would buy less than a 20 lb bag of rice...
You would serve spam as a meat for dinner...
You can taste the difference between teriyaki and kal-bi.
You know why there are alphabets on trees on graduation day.
You know what lei day is.
You know what the "stink eye" is; and how to give it.
You can correctly pronouce kalanianaole, kalakaua and aiea.
You know what a "Huli Huli Chicken" is.
You can name 3 varieties of mangos.
You know the difference between being hapa and being hapai.
You give directions using mauka and makai.
You know what it takes to get into kamehameha school.
You say, "Nori" not seaweed paper.
You say "Brah" not "Bro".
You know why Sharks Cove is called Sharks Cove.
Your jokes are about Portugese not Polish.
You know what "Morgan's Corner " is ... (And it still scares you!).
You think 70 degrees is freezing cold. You call it "saimin" not "Top Ramen."
The surf report is on your speed dial...
Rainbow Drive-Inn is a special date.
You know pineapples don't grow in trees.
When you hear the words "fund raiser", you know it means Zippy's Chili.
You have said "wat, owe you money?", "karang your alas", or "dakine".
You call public transportation "da BUS."
You go to Neiman Marcus "jus fo look."
The mainland people no can understand your language.
You eat mango with shoyu, vinegar, and pepper.
You like ume, daikon, and kim chee better than pickles.
You never understood why adding pineapple and ham to a pizza made it Hawaiian to the rest of the world.
You have a separate circuit breaker for your rice cooker.(Or should.)
You measure the water for the rice by the knuckle of your index finger.
The condiments at the dinner table are shoyu, ketchup, chili peppah watah, kimchee, takuwan, Hawaiian salt and pickled onion.
You go to Maui and your luggage home includes potato chips, manju, cream puffs, guri-guri and fresh saimin from Sam Sato's.
A balanced meal has three starches: rice, macaroni and bread.
You call everyone older than you "Aunty" or "Uncle" even though they aren't related to you.
Your philosophy is "Bumbai".
You are barefoot in most of you elementary school pictures.
Your only suit is a bathing suit.
You drive barefoot.
You feel guilt leaving a get-together without helping clean up.
The idea of taking something from a heiau is unthinkable.
You'd rather drag out the compressor and fill that leaking tire every single morning than have it fixed.
The only time you honk your horn is once a year during the safety check.
You can live and let live with a smile in your heart.
Nobody is sure exactly where "north" is.
Your cousin is Japanese-Chinese-French-Filipino-Korean-Scottish-Portuguese-Hawaiian, plus some stuff too manini to mention.
You watch your favorite shows "on top the TV."
The best cooks all use lots of mayonnaise.
An approaching hurricane means only one thing – surf's up, brah!
"You like beef" has nothing to do with what's for dinner.
Beans are the perfect condiment for ice cream.
You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Hawaii.

The name's Drack. Draconis Arrowatch Arandis. I've been a gumshoe for over 10,000 years, and I've only had one normal day's work. It was a Thursday. But this isn't Thursday. It's Friday, and my Friday’s are not normal. The dame walking by the window was going to make sure of it. I had a chicken in the oven, and was waiting for dinner when the door bell rang. I kicked the door on my way past, and it swung open, revealing a pretty little number in a fancy little dress. Her make-up said class, her hat said money, and her eyes said trouble. I swore under my breath, and lowered my hat so I wouldn’t notice those gray blue eyes.
"You’re a P.I., and I need your help."
"Really? I thought I was a deli worker, and needed your help with today's special."
Without missing a beat, “Today’s special is murder, with a side of intrigue.”
“And why are you coming to me with this?”
“Because the police came up empty, and nobody else will take my case.”
“I’ll take it.”
This time she did miss a beat. In fact, she missed quite a few. I could hear the clock ticking away in the background, and I thought I would have to break the silence she spoke.
“Just like that? You don’t know what the problem is…”
She went on like this for about 5 minutes, the clock ticking all the while. I figured my food was almost ready when I interrupted her.
“You wouldn’t have come to me if one of the others will take it, and if I won’t take it, then no one will. So I figure I’ll look into it. It may even be fun. But you can tell me about it over dinner. I have a room upstairs, and some more comfortable clothes in the closet I keep in the event it’s unsafe for a client to stay anywhere else. Dinner will be in 10 minutes, so please don’t be late.”
I was feeling very smug by that time, and I whirled out of the room, and gestured up the stairs. She was half way up the stairs when I burnt my hand to my elbow, and let a litany of curses fly. Her light giggle pissed me even farther. But the chicken was perfect, and I figured things can’t be too bad… I would come to regret thinking this.
I had the table set for two, and it was a nice little dinner. She was dressed simply, revealing how truly beautiful she was. She had changed into a skirt in the far corner of the closet, one I thought I’d never see again. A nice white blouse commented it perfectly. Her face was nice, and her eyes were still beautiful. The clothes she was wearing showed her figure off better then the tight dress earlier. I was speechless, the first time in many years. I came to just in time for her to notice.
“I’m sorry, but it my good white wine ran out awhile ago and I haven’t stocked any more. I’ve only got your choice of scotch, white grape juice, and some Pepsi I will never drink.”
“The scotch, please. I may need it by the end of dinner.”
Halfway through the meal, she broke the silence that had settled.
“My best friend, Miranda Nogumi is dead. Her husband Yoshiro Her Mother and father are dead. Her sisters, aunt and uncle, and her niece, they are all dead. Only Yoshiro’s brother Musashi is alive. And I’m worried for him; he’s already been attacked several times. The perpetrators are the Vatelli family, but the police won’t do anything. The police are as afraid as Musashi.”
The Vatelli family. The biggest crime syndicate in history. Headed up by Nikky Vatelli, they have their hands in every cookie jar in the world. There isn’t a single government, company, or even mercenary army that isn’t either bribed or afraid of the Vatelli family. Their name sends shudders in the spine of every good souled man and woman save a few.
Musashi Nogumi was one of those people. He’d been staging vigilante raids, single handedly assassinating the big guns, and hampering the Vatelli family for about 17 years. They had put a price on his head. Apparently this dame didn’t realize that more people had taken a shot at Musashi then me, and almost as many have died trying. I thought I should break the news gently.
“Except for Musashi being afraid, duh. He’s be-“
She cut me off, saying “I know what he’s done, but that’s not all. Musashi has disappeared. And it’s obvious the Vatelli family had nothing to do with it, his house is still standing, and the light bulbs are missing. It was his sign to me that he is hiding.”
“That’s nice. But what do you want me to do. If I pry into his whereabouts the Vatelli family will find out. They hate me more then Musashi, and I don’t even try to get their goat.”
“Anything. Cause trouble, stir up old resentment, but please. You have to save Musashi, or find out where he is. I have money, I have weapons, I have anything you need. They say you’ve been in this town forever. That you can do anything.”
I would have blushed if I hadn’t been so worried over accepting the job already. The dinner progressed quietly as I mulled over the details of what this meant. Having no details, I spent the time making some.
It was obvious that there was something major she wasn’t telling me. I stepped outside for a breather. I spotted a couple across the street staring a little too intently. And the man with the gun on the roof was taking aim. I stepped back inside. I saw her looking at a painting of a tan roman centurion and a shapely lady.
“This man looks just like you. This painting is obviously authentic. Who is this man? Is he your ancestor?”
I closed my eyes.
“Her name was Helena. That centurion is me. Helena was my wife. That was along time ago.”
I remembered that day. It was obvious she didn’t believe me. I didn’t care…
“Your staying here tonight. The room you found the clothes in is where you will stay. There are men outside, watching the place. There is a guy on the roof of the building across the way. There is no way for you to leave. I’ll be leaving tomorrow, so stay here. There is food in the fridge and right half of the basement. You’ll be safe here, so long as you don’t go outside, or annoy my friend. I’ll tell him you’re here, and he’ll make breakfast. I hope you like cereal.”
She was taken by surprise by all of the news. She turned a bright red when she realized I ordered her to stay here. I cut her off before she could say anything.
“Your name.”
“What?”
“I figure I should know your name if I am going to take your case. And if your going to be in my house. Should have told me earlier…”
“Jessica. My name is Jessica York.”

LUUUUUUUCYYYYY, I'm HOOOOooooooome.

So, this is where it all ends. Riekenbok falls. Like Sherlock Holmes and Morierty, this may be our final conflict. But unlike them, neither of us is really good. So who will win?

Yeah... Tidal waves, desert nations, french bird heads, and odd wierdo beliefs in the state.... That about sums up the things bugging me today.

Welcome to my blog... again...

I'm going to restart this blog right now, and I plan try to publish on a regular basis. This will mean staying up on current events and news more often...