stuck in my NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA NA head

Posted via email from The Ferret Gun

~Mnem

Chronos likes cuts. Totally not awkward

~Mnem

[And so beginneth my policy of cross-posting everything I write from FG Posterous to FG Blogger, simply because I'm stubborn and loyal and constantly trying to one-up Chronos. Psych.]

Internet Browser Mashing

The ultimate equation regarding the use of internet browsers. Well, more like an inequality, but let us not go into technicalities, shall we?

Firefox + Google Chrome > Chicken Wings > Cheese > Flying Pigs > Knee High Socks > Dying in A Hole > Napoleon > Crap > Everything Else > Internet Explorer

I'll expand once I think of more *relevant* comparisons to use.
A certain cynical non-believer has finally risen from the darkness! Well, minus the fact that McAfee isn't automatically applicable in Google Chrome for some reason.

Yaah. Hi, I'm back. Been busy. I'll end the post now because I think the bell's going to ring soon (for school).
Will *add more substance* because I think Mnem will kill me for such a short return post. 

-Chronos

"Americans now must choose between a virtual strip search and a grope" says the ACLU

Well, it's between that and potential death, of course, but since people can only focus on the short-term versus long-term effects (think of teenagers who feel invincible when they pick up their first cigarette), the vague and hazy notion of being blown up in the skies trumps an uncomfortable patting session hands down. Idiots, the lot of them.

Quoth an unnamed security officer who has to perform these searches:

I come to work to do my job. It is not up to me to decide policy, it is up to me to carry out my duties as dictated by the Transportation Security Administration. When a person stands in front of me and calls me a pervert or accuses me of molesting them it is disheartening. People fail to understand that neither of us are happy about the intrusive pat down I am carrying out. I am polite, I am professional and while someone may not like what I have to carry out, they came to me because they choose not to utilize the alternative and less invasive method of security at my airport.

The "less invasive method" being full-body scanners which, predictably, have been publicly shunned due to paranoia over radiation and having your body bits splashed over a screen in glorious nonpixellated high def. Yep, still idiots. The first fear I can understand, or try to, but the second? Get over it! What do you think, that the supervising staff are somehow enjoying your ordeal? News flash, moron. One, you're probably not all that awesome to look at, and two, they're just doing their jobs. In case you haven't noticed here are hundreds of people passing through US airport scanners daily and if the officers found this task attractive in any way then they sure as hell don't now. I believe "desensitization" is the word. Except there's one thing they probably can't get desensitized to and that is the endless stream of whines and muttering and outright accusations (see quote above) that they are, in fact, "perverts" and molesters when they are only trying to do their job. Shame on you coddled self-righteous airline passengers. Get off your bloody high horse and be a little grateful and humble and flexible for once. If these people up and decided to leave you'd not be going anywhere and if you did there's a high chance you wouldn't make it because gee, guess what, no security checks means moar security threats for all. But of course, you'd just complain about that too...

Idiots. -shakes head-

The tl;dr here is that yon "virtual strip search" and "grope" are temporary discomforts compared to the slightly more permanent state of nonexistence brought upon ye in the event of having your plane knocked out of the sky, so shut up and deal with it. Jesus Christ on a bicycle, people, rein in the holier-than-thouness of your ego.

~Mnem

Mnem's new reading list. Brought to you by the BBC + dead white guys

Saw this in a friend's Facebook note, thought it looked cool, didn't dare make my own note about it 'cause she and I aren't really that close anymore and it woulda looked stalkerish, wanted to share it anyways, stole it with a fiendish laugh, deleted unnecessary line breaks and dumped it here. To wit, this is a list of 100 rather important books, of which the average person, according to the venerable British Broadcasting Corporation, has only read six. Six. For shame. There is something wrong with this generation.

Anyhoo, it is now my goal to finish reading through this list by the end of high school, which shouldn't be too difficult as a) I read like a maelstrom (case in point: finished Vonnegut's 302-page Hocus Pocus in roughly three hours last week) and b) I've already gone through quite a few of these books. Bolded Struck-out items have been read in full and italicized ones have been begun and then tossed aside or simply read in excerpt form. (And my own addition: underlined bolded ones are ones I really really reeeaaally want to read.) Feel free to snatch the list and vaunt your own literary accomplishments. No credit required, because it never was  mine anyways, but your soul would be nice.

Ho shet, a medieval story with snark

"War," said Joseph Hirkanos to the elephant. He spat on the grass ... "Bad for the Radanites."


"Not always," said his nephew, a would-be sharp operator who lacked for the satisfaction of his ambition only the quality of sharpness and who expended all of his energies, as far as Joseph could see, on preserving his opinions from contamination by experience.

Michael Chabon's Gentlemen of the Road concerns itself with tenth-century odd couple Zelikman (rail-thin, morbid, and given to slicing up passersby with an oversized bodkin) and Amram (a veritable giant of an ex-soldier with a pleasantly obscene Viking axe and a good hand at shatranj) and what adventures the two globe-trotting swindlers run into after attaching themselves to the quest of the fugitive Khazar prince, Filaq. It's a story liberally laced with elephants, Jews, black humour, and dead men, all of which combine to make--well, it's difficult to describe, but it's very good, so I shall just say that it combines to make a swashbuckling knit-up of elephants, Jews, black humour, and dead men that is more, much more, than the sum of its parts. Trust me: it's better than it sounds.

~Mnem

Random influx of adorable + unnecessary angst

On the one hand, I've noticed we haven't really been writing to this blog much. The days of 500-word postings with nary a picspam in sight seem to be over, replaced by pithy one-liners stacked underneath five-inch monstrosities (five inches is a lot on a website). There's a part of me that misses those days. I like writing. Pictures are nice too, I suppose, and all the cool kids are getting a Tumblr now--which caters to those who like to plaster their walls with pretty photos, tack on at best an artily sparse caption and then book it the hell out of there--but oh, oh, this isn't a Tumblr. Ain't a photo album neither and sometimes I worry that's what it's turning into. No, this is a blog, as in a web log, as in an online journal, as in an exchange diary, as in words. Words that we don't take the time and care to write anymore. There is something sad about that.

On the other hand, why worry when you can have a cute little hamster instead? Hehe.

~Mnem

-stareee-

Maybe not going to the party was a good idea after all. (Note: Brown is the same person here as in the previous picture. Pink does not know him. Not at all.)

I swear, Idul Fitri is starting to look positively tame compared to this.

~Mnem

Happy Thanksgiving! (unless you're a turkey)

I was invited to a Thanksgiving dinner at Atlas' today. My first one, y'know? I've never celebrated a real honest-to-goodness say-grace carve-the-turkey count-the-children-afterwards American (well, mostly American)-style Thanksgiving dinner. I came this close to showing up. This close. And then I spent the better part of the afternoon in an infernal mood about not being allowed to attend, due to a parental embargo on anything involving Atlas, and said infernal mood lasted until I saw this.

I didn't quite know whether to laugh or cry--everyone in that convo except for Orange is a guy, by the way--so I settled for screenshotting it and trying very hard not to think about tablecloths for the next two and a half hours.

~Mnem

How to write a back-from-the-dead post in sixteen easy and somewhat accurately described sentences

Obligatory odd first sentence. Sarcastic second sentence. Thoughtful third sentence, and then apologetic fourth. Explanatory fifth sentence, expository sixth sentence, seventh sentence stuffed with excuses and half-meant promises to not do that again for a while. Eighth sentence negating seventh sentence and therefore crossed out for purposes of comedy. Ninth sentence completely deadpan.

And then, from out of the blue, the tenth sentence.

~Mnem- "And here we put a nonsensical phrase" -osyne

EDIT: Eleventh sentence as an inane afterthought. Twelfth sentence assuring readers of sanity. Thirteenth sentence making derogatory reference to twelfth. Fourteenth complaining about lack of sleep. Fifteenth signing off. Sixteenth... zzz...

Correct spelling and grammar pwns is better than cheese

But only slightly more so.

The gist of it is, I found this as somebody's userpic in a forum on GOS, and I honestly really like it right now. It's got pretty colours and crisp text and a long snark stick with which to poke random passers-by in the faux-pas-ridden street. First reaction: HOMG SOMEONE THINKS LIKE THAT TOO!!!1!!1!!!one! Second reaction: Haha, nice. Shot myself in the foot there.

-shoots rambling- Here be yon GIF.

Hohohoyes.

~Mnemosyne

Oh Facebook, you amuse me so

My friends, admittedly, are weird. But in my defense, their friends are weirder.

~Mnemosyne

I wouldn't give this up for all the cows in Holland

I went on a bit of a wallpaper-hunting spree today. Final body count: 31. (Damn you, National Geographic, for having such delicious beautiful photographs!)

(Note the second image in the bottom row. I predict mild trauma for those who open my laptop at inopportune moments.)

Ridiculous owl is ridiculous.

On another note, there's a disproportionate amount of pictures from cold, northerly places, such as Scotland and Canada. What can I say? I like frigid weather. Much more fun than hot weather and easier to counteract. By which I mean that when the temperature drops, you can just pile on some layers, but it doesn't really work the other way around: rising temperatures do not necessarily endorse removal of clothing.

... not entirely sure where I was going with that, but hey, have a village.

This would be the unbelievably quaint and lovely outcrop of Manarola, Italy. [insert adoration here]

5 MINUTES LATER

Gushing praise takes a lot of energy, so here's a parrot in a teacup and no context whatsoever.

One last caveat. I have my backgrounds set to change every ten minutes or so--one of the nifty little thrown-in features I love about Windows 7--and five minutes ago I was pleasantly surprised to minimize a window and find this staring me in the face.

Dutch cows + Dutch landscape + Dutch weather = global win.

~Mnemosyne

Commence Operation Meme!

Because I am sad and need a life and want to keep this thing alive without getting my hands too, too dirty. This is basically just a variation on the ever-popular iPod quiz game (pose a question and hit fast-forward in shuffle mode to get a nonsensical song-title-as-answer). More fun than it looks.

1. IF SOMEONE SAYS "ARE YOU OKAY" WHAT DO YOU SAY?
Ready -- Kelly Clarkson

2. HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF?
Welcome To Mystery -- Plain White T's

 (Mwahahahaha.)

3. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
This Is Our Town -- We The Kings

4. HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
Always Running Out Of Time -- Motion City Soundtrack

(True.)

5. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Don't Stop Me Now -- Queen

(Outta my way!)

6. WHAT'S YOUR MOTTO?
The Birds They Put In Cages -- Tina Arena and Garou

7. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
She Had The World -- Panic! At The Disco

(Wondering if I should feel

threatened, flattered, or sad.)

8. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Night Drive -- The All-American Rejects

9. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
She Is -- The Fray

10. WHAT IS 2 + 2?
Easy Tonight -- Five For Fighting

11. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Laziest Girl In Town -- Lisa Ekdahl

(Chronos: -enters room-

Mnem: -swivels-

Mnem: -SHING-

Chronos: o_O)

12. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Real World -- The All-American Rejects

13. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
One Day -- Trading Yesterday

14. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Alright -- Five For Fighting

(Hehe.)

15. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Somebody Told Me -- The Killers

(YES.)

16. WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?-
Why Worry -- The All-American Rejects

17. WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Leave Out All The Rest -- Linkin Park

(Ostracizing people is a skill.)

18. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR?
Pressure -- Paramore

(Not my biggest, but it's on the list.)

19. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Beautiful -- Trading Yesterday

20. WHAT DO YOU WANT RIGHT NOW?
Like A Song -- Lenka

21. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Borodin: Prince Igor - Polovtsian Dances -- Neeme Järvi: Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra

(Fate is trying to tell me something.

If only I knew what...)

~Mnemosyne

Rumpelstilzchen with a dash of noir

It's fun to write. It's also fun to screw with old fairytales and make them new and fresh again. Ask Chronos, she should know. Politically correct bedtime stories anyone? (I fear for the sanity of her future children.)

Anyhoo, we had to try our hands at rewriting the introduction of Rumpelstiltskin in either epistolary or teen angst genre. Due to a few bad experiences involving novels with letterhead I decided to tackle teen angst. Couldn't be that bad, eh? After all, I'm a teenager. Should come naturally. Should. Funnily enough, it did, and the whole thing came spilling out with barely any blood along the way--although I think we may have lost a peasant here or there. (Pff. Peasants. Nobody gives a toff about them anyways. Er, what are you looking at, Chronos?)

Cue cut, because the "introduction" is massively long, at 793 words. And they only asked for 300. -snickers-

H-H-H-H-H-HOLY HELL!

... is an oxymoron.

Mnem, put the rifle down...

WE ALL LOVE THE LETTER 'H', don't we?

Horse, happy, hippopotamus, hippies, hip-hip-hooray, hell, heaven, hedgehog...

WE LOVE HEDGEHOGS TOO.

Eusebia's birthday is tomorrow, so all of our friends decided to pitch in and make a few letters that spelling out "H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y * * * * * ".

Yaa. I give you one sample. But that's only because it's the best one. (ALL THE OTHERS SUCK).

 

DID I MENTION I LOVE CRAFT PUNCHERS? 

On a saner note (yes, I am aware my FG posts have gradually gotten crazier), for a very fun, fun English assignment (for once), we have to rewrite Rumpelstiltskin in either a teen angst or letter / epistolary genre.

Since I like the LJ formatting for reading things, you may find HELL a link back there.

Nah, not really. 

-Chronos

Y not?

Mad: -slaps Mnem for the lame pun-

Jeez, sorry.

Our dear friend Eusebia is having her birthday tomorrow, and we've all ganged up to make a sort of shambly, highly individualized collage for her, consisting of a large hand-drawn mishmash of A4-sized letters that will somehow hopefully maybe perhaps WHO AM I KIDDING -bursts into tears- form the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY [EUSEBIA] in an easily tacked-up-on-the-rafters format. Cool yeh? Anyhoo, we all pulled our choice of dipthongs and I got the 'Y's (because, you know, they're a stick on a stick, how hard can it be? --I can tell you, plenty hard) and, because I am unpredictable and rambly and given to poking FerretGun with the Big Stick Of Excessively Wordy And/Or Otherwise Unnecessary Posts every once in a while, I figured you lot ("Welcome to FerretGun! Total Population: 0.4 because everyone ran away after we, uh, cut that one guy in half--and of course he got slightly moldy and bits started falling off") wouldn't mind seeing my lovely artwork either.

GAHAHAHA WHO AM I KIDDING?! Eheh, picspam followeth. If this were LJ I'd put it under a cut (I'd have to; isn't there a law that mandates this somewhere, for the safety of the casual browser?) but, since this is Blogger and the cuts are infinitely less awesome, you get them chucked at you no matter whether you want them or not. -depraved grin-

Oh, I'm such a nice little girl.

I hereby dub thee "Gothic Y".

EDIT: Maybe "Peacock Y" would be more appropriate?

And you shall be my "Collage Y" and you shall be mine, and you shall be my "Collage Y"!

... no, I ain't usually like this, but working with oil pastels has a bit of a giddying effect on me. Quite similar to the Crayon Effect sometimes observed in overstressed highschoolers. Present anybody over the age of fourteen with a pack of crayons and a clean sheet of paper and boom, you've got yourself an artistic manic-depressive right there. Fun stuff.

~Mnemosyne