Alice Human Sacrifice - Bloody Red, Part Three

The finale of 'Bloody Red'!

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The Rabbit observed Alice Number One from a distance as she struggled to find out who she could trust, and who might be the Rabbit in disguise. The Rabbit, for some strange reason, found it absolutely hilarious.

The Rabbit had always known that Alice Number One was paranoid, but this seemed to be a whole new level for her. A single threat from the Rabbit sent her around executing everyone she didn't wholely trust.

The Rabbit grew bored of the colour red, and decided to relieve Alice Number One of her paranoia.

*          *          *

They were all on his side. Of course they were! This was not her world; it was his. He had said that from the very start! And now he was going to get rid of her. She would be forced back into that damned prison cell to be force fed by that fat lard of a doctor and mocked by those parasitic reporters! She did not mean to kill that boy. She was just having a little fun. Everyone else was doing it, so why did it have to happen to her?

Alice knew she had to get out of the castle. He would be expecting her there. Well, she would not let him get her so easily. She would defeat him. She would not go back to her previous life ever again.

She snuck out the back door, just in case. Alice was dressed in a red hooded cape and her old clothes from before. Her sword was held at her side. Quietly, she made her way into the forest.

Before Alice knew it, she was lost. She had come here numerous times for the executions, but she did not recognise this place in the slightest. She must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

Alice noticed something out of the corner of her eye and turned, unsheathing her sword. It was just a deer. Alice relaxed and started to sheath her sword again.

"Hi there, Alice. I found you." Alice let out a scream and turned around, sword ready to kill. There he was, all smiles and giggles.

"What are you doing here?" She said, struggling to bite back her stutter. The boy's smile widened.

"I live here, silly." Something about the way he said it sounded sinister.

"W-well how come I've never seen you here before?" The boy was silent, still smiling. "Answer the damn question!"

The boy burst out laughing, the laughter echoed all around the forest. The animals that were once hiding scattered. Then he stopped.

"What's to say you have not seen me, Alice?" Alice flinched as he came closer. "You see, I've been keeping an eye on you since you came here, Alice." He hopped on one foot and came closer to Alice. Alice took a step back. "I must say it was rather... interesting to watch. I never thought you would be this violent." He began to giggle again, which set Alice on edge. "Then again, who would? One must keep up appearances in public, she said!" He suddenly stopped smiling. "I've forgotten who 'she' was." He turned his eyes on Alice. "Hey, do you know?"

Alice started to back away. There was a look in his eyes that terrified her. He had lost it. She had to get away; as far away as possible. She turned and ran.

"Oh my, how rude. Leaving in the middle of a conversation."

Vines tugged and pulled at her hair and clothes, tearing at her clothes and skin. She was sure she could hear footsteps behind her, but she did not want to think about that. She wanted out. She wanted to get out of this nightmare.

Alice tripped over a rotting log and stumbled to the ground. Her bun came loose and her hair spread out like an ocean of red. She sat back up and wiped away her tears; why did she have to act like a baby now?

She heard voices; whispers. They were mocking her. They were the voices of those damn children from her school!

"I heard her mother was in a relationship with one of the teachers."

"What? You don’t mean Mr. Carter, do you?"

"Eww, gross! She must be desperate!" Alice closed her eyes shut and covered her ears.

"Shut up! It isn't true! Mother would never do that!"Alice felt someone remove her hands.

"But you know she did," whispered the boys voice. "After all, you saw it."

*          *          *
 

The memories came back to her. She did not mean to interrupt, but her brother was sick and she did not know what to do. She opened her mother's bedroom door.

"Mama, Lucas isn't looking very well and-" She was cut off by what she saw. Her teacher, Mr. Carter, was on top of her mother. Completely naked. Alice was frozen to the spot.

Mr. Carter got up and walked up to her, not caring for his nakedness.

"Oh my, what are you doing up so late?" Her mother lifted the sheets up to cover herself.

"What will we do? She'll tell my husband!" Mr. Carter turned to her mother and smiled.

"The things I'll do for love." He pushed Alice down the stairs. She fell.

Alice let out a cry of pain as she was forced out of her memories. That was impossible! That was just an accident! The doctor had said so himself!

"Oh. So that's what happened." Alice turned around and instead of the boy being there, it was Mr. Carter. Still unable to stand, Alice began to shuffle back. "I bet that really hurt, Alice. Falling from such a great height and cracking your skull. It was only natural that you lost your memories of the incident, but that didn't stop your father from finding out, did it?"

"S-stay away from me."

Mr. Carter began to walk up to her. "I broke off the affair soon after, didn't I? Your mother was starting to look rather old ,and I always preferred fresh flowers." He leaned forward. "You, on the other hand, have grown into a fine young woman."

"Stay away from me!" The ground beneath Alice crumbled and she fell.

The Rabbit looked down at the cliff where Alice Number One's body was: Tied among the hanging vines with a broken neck. Maybe that was a bit mean; bringing back her memories.

"What a mess she left Wonderland in. Now I'm going to have to build a new Royal Family for the next Alice." The Rabbit turned on its feels and made its way back to the palace, singing. "The first ALICE was a gallant red one..."

JUNE 23rd, 1913: Alice Riddell attempted to escape Greenhill Prison through the forest, and fell off a cliff. She broke her neck and died soon after. Her funeral shall be on June 30th at 4:00pm. Friends and family only.

 *          *          *

And that, my good friends, is the end of the First Alice. The last bit just came up at the last moment while I thought of what to do. Rather morbid, no?

SIGNING OFF!
Rinrei

Alice Human Sacrifice - Bloody Red, Part Two

Next.

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Alice Number One most certainly did do as she pleased. At first, she started small. You see, Wonderland brought out a person’s true personality and Alice Number One had a most foul and cruel personality as the Rabbit would find out later. Alice Number One, you see, enjoyed hurting things. The Rabbit had only caught a small glimpse of this when it first met her, but it would never fully understand just how cruel she was until now.

Alice started her rule by starting out her basic needs. Since Alice Number One was such a violent child, she decided it would be fun to start killing all the men.

When she got bored of that, she then decided to kill all the women and children. Some survived, but they soon wished they were dead. You see, Alice Number One had forced them into hard labour, working them to death.

When the royal family discovered what Alice Number One had been doing, they sent in some soldiers to stop her. What they did not expect was the fact that she was already in the castle.

Alice Number One killed them all. Not even the infants were spared. She then took the throne for herself and started a bloody red rule.

The Rabbit only discovered this when it returned to Wonderland to visit Alice Number One.

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Alice looked down at the child before her. It was the same child that she met three years ago and yet he did not look as though he aged a day. It made him appear slightly disturbing. He looked up at her and smiled. Although she was above him, she felt as though he was staring down at her.

"Hello Alice, how are you?" He said in a sugar-coated voice. It sounded incredibly fake to Alice, and that frightened her. "Oh my, look at the mess you made. This will take me ages to clean!" He was looked up at her again and grinned. "But that's okay, Alice. I forgive you!"

Then his smile disappeared and his face darkened. The change was so sudden that Alice almost yelped.

"There are things I don't forgive, though," His voice was suddenly scratchy and a lot more frightening. "I forgave you when you started cutting me up and I forgave you when you started killing the villagers. I even forgave you when you killed the royal family that had been ruling Wonderland for so long," Alice froze when he paused. He looked up at her, a new look in his eyes. "What I won't forgive you for is for taking the throne away from the real Alice,"

"What the hell are you talking about, you little brat? I am Alice,"

The Rabbit was right to doubt his need for entering Wonderland after all. He smiled a ghost of a smile and looked up at her.

"No you're not, you're not Alice at all,"

And then he left. He turned on his heels and skipped out, looking cheerful and happy once again. Even though he had disappeared, Alice knew that he would be waiting for her, waiting for her to let her guard down.

She would not though. She would not let this child take her throne. She had worked long and hard to get all this power and no threat was going to take that away from her.

However, she felt that this was no normal threat from no normal person. This would be a threat that he would keep, and she would have to fight.

*          *          *

SIGNING OFF!

Rinrei

Alice Human Sacrifice - Bloody Red, Part One

Next part!

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As Alice Number One grew, her temper increased, as did her need for equality. The Rabbit did not fully understand what Alice Number One was fighting for. He had heard that it was for the right to vote, but he did not know what she could vote for. Kings and Queens chose what happened in the country, right?

In the end, the Rabbit decided that Alice Number One just enjoyed fighting. She always had that look in her eyes when she smashed the windows or poured acid on the grass in the park. The right to vote was probably just an excuse to do this. The Rabbit was not sure that it wanted someone like that living in Wonderland.


Then, one day, Alice Number One did something really bad, and the authorities came to her house. The Rabbit heard that Alice Number One had accidentally set fire to someone's house and some children were in at the time. One of the children was horrifically burnt while the other had died from smoke inhalation. The Rabbit did not know what being killed meant but the Rabbit knew that the same had happened to Alice.


Alice... Who was that again? The Rabbit did not seem to remember.

*          *          *

The Rabbit had followed Alice Number One into the 'prison'. The authorities had suspected that Alice Number One had brought the Rabbit with her as a source of company, they did not suspect that the Rabbit had come on its own.


Alice Number One did not like enclosed spaces; they made her feel nervous. And the Rabbit doll only served as a conduit for her paranoia. In her eyes, the Rabbit seemed to be observing her, not the other way around. It was as though it had a mind of its own.


The Rabbit did not like seeing Alice Number One like this. The Rabbit Doll did not know how to deal with her when she was like this. The Rabbit preferred seeing her outside, even though she sometimes did things that worried the Rabbit when she was outside. She would be easier to control if she was in a situation where her mind was free.


The Rabbit had to get her out of this place. This 'prison' also unsettled it. Alice used to hate small places, and that had brushed off on it. It could send her to Wonderland, but it did not know how to enter her mind to make this possible. It was also afraid of what she would do in Wonderland. Would she destroy Wonderland's greens and smash windows like she did in this place? The Rabbit had such high expectations of her when they had first met, and now the Rabbit was not so sure. But the Rabbit had stayed with her so long, and she had taken great care of it, so maybe this violence was just an act, and she was really nice inside. The Rabbit just hoped that was the case.


The Rabbit had the perfect opportunity to enter her mind when she fell asleep. That was how it appeared in Alice's imagination. As a dream. Alice Number One was certainly violent but she was sure to have nice dreams. Right? No time to think about that any more. The Rabbit had already planted the dream in her mind. It was up to her now. Anything was better than reality.


Alice bolted awake. Where was she? It did not feel like the prison cell. Maybe they had moved her...

She opened her eyes. Above her she saw a clear blue sky. Her eyes scanned the area as her body was too tired to get up. She was in the middle of a forest.


That's weird... Slowly, she sat up. Really weird. Looking around her, all she saw were trees. She stood up and brushed down her skirt.


Wait, skirt? She looked down at herself. She was wearing a bright red skirt and hiking boots. Something she was definitely not allowed to wear in the prison.


"Ah, you're up, you're up!" cheered a young child's voice. She flicked her head around. Standing on one of the tree stumps was a little boy.


But this little boy did not seem like any ordinary child. There was something off about him, and it wasn't the rabbit ears. There was a look in his eyes, as though he was not quite there.


"I've been waiting for you to get up for ages, Alice. I was starting to get bored!" There was a lot of power in his voice, too. It echoed around the otherwise silent forest. Where were all the animals? She could not hear any birds, either.


The boy grabbed her hand, suddenly right in front of her. "Come on! I want to show you around Wonderland!" he said with a beaming smile.


Wonderland? What an unusual name, Alice thought as the boy started to drag her down a forest path, red from autumn leaves. Wait, wasn't it just spring?' She looked back down at the boy, who was beaming up at her. And who the hell is this kid?'


"Hey, boy, what's your name?"

The boy stopped. His grip on Alice's arm tightened.

"To be honest, I'm not quite sure myself."

There was silence between them for a moment. It unsettled Alice slightly, the boy suddenly seemed a lot older. As quickly as the feeling came, it ended. He looked back at Alice and smiled. "But that's okay! I have Alice here, I'll remember later."


The boy stopped dragging Alice around the forest when they got to a large opening. He let go off her and climbed on to a rotten tree stump. It looked a lot like a face...


"Okay, this is where the tour ends! I hope you enjoyed it! Please enjoy the rest of Wonderland!" He spread his arms out as though to show the vastness of Wonderland, grinning still.


"What exactly can I do in Wonderland?" Alice asked, cautious for breaking any more laws than she already had. The boy leaned forward, somehow keeping perfect balance on the stump.


"You can do absolutely anything! This is Wonderland! Alice can do whatever she wants in this place! After all, this is her dream!"


So it's a dream, is it?' Alice thought, letting his words sink in. That meant that she really could do whatever she wanted here. She did not have to worry about the police, or the government. She did not have to worry about anything. And that was just fine with her.


"Okay, I understand, thank you for letting me come here," She said, faking a smile. This would be perfect. She could do anything!


The boy did not seem to hear the malice in her voice. He just seemed happy that she was here.


"I'm happy that you're happy! I'll be watching, then!" He jumped off the stump and ran off, disappearing into the forest. Alice did not care if he disappeared. She did not even watch him run off. She had this entire place to herself where she could do whatever she wanted and not get in trouble.


"Perfect."

*          *          *

SIGNING OFF!

Rinrei

Alice Human Sacrifice - Prologue

I found this lying around on my computer and decided to add it to the blog to add more posts. So, yeah, I haven't really checked it for any swearing or anything since I'm lazy, but this takes the part of a child's perspective so it's unlikely. Without further ado, here's 'Alice Human Sacrifice'.




Once, there was a little girl called Alice, and what a little girl she was. She was of five years of age, and quite lonely. She was the second child of a rather wealthy family which doted upon her elder brother. She spent her time outside, in the back garden, on the swing, daydreaming. At her side she kept a precious doll; a special gift given to her by her grandmother: A beautifully made white rabbit with a green jacket and a heart stitched on the left hand side pocket. Oh, how Alice loved that doll. Being as young as she was, she used to come up with adventures they would go on together. She would enter an imaginary world with talking trees and a moon and sun with faces.

Her pale eyes began to shut and the final thought that came into her head was: I wonder what we shall do in Wonderland this time?

The rabbit was put inside the toy box, along with all Alice's old toys and games that she used to play with, or tried to play with, with her brother. The heavy padlock was locked with a rusty key, which was then tossed out of the window. The maid and the butler lifted the toy box up into the attic and pushed it deep into the bowels of the loft, never to be seen again. It was not possible for a doll to cry, but the rabbit did so anyway.

The white rabbit knew it had been inside the toy box for a very long time, and so had begun to become moldy. It would not be long before it would rot away completely and the measly soul Alice had given it would have nowhere to go, and also disappear. It did not want to disappear. It did not want to disappear like Alice had. It wanted to stay, but it did not know how to keep existing. It needed someone to acknowledge its existence; to remember it was there. But that was impossible while it was trapped inside the toy box.

It was getting to the point where its limbs had begun to drop off. One of his eyes was festering with maggots. The dolls around him had already turned to dust, and mold was crawling out of its chest. He did not know that the padlock had gotten so rusty that it was almost ready to drop off until it did so with a heavy clanging noise. The moment he heard it, he forced the chest lid open with his leg and hopped out of the chest with the energy of a five year old child, even though he was nearly fifty years old. He needed to find a human fast before his soul vanished. He knew that the feeling he was suffering from was fear. He had one arm and one leg left. His right eye was rotten and his left ear was half chewed by mice and rats. He did not know how he was going to get out; he only knew he needed to. He hopped down the attic stairs and scurried down the corridor. He would prefer the person to find him to be a child. He would never trust human adults.

*          *          *

Alice's family had moved in four years ago; that was when she was twelve, and even now she still detested the place with all her heart. Alice was known for her foul mouth and short temper in the small village of Beulah. She was also known for her bright red hair and love of hockey. So, in general, she was known for being a brute. But she did not mind, in fact she preferred they thought of her as a mean tomboy than what she really was; a cry-baby, girly girl. She scowled at the thought of those children who had bullied her in her old school; that was one reason why they had  left. That, and the fact that her mother and her father had decided divorced, though they never told her why.

The white rabbit saw her as a perfect candidate for the time being. If she decided to take him in, she would be far too stubborn to give him to her little brother, who ripped up all his toys in fits of sadistic childishness, and most likely ignore her mother who was at work a lot. At least, that is what he, the white rabbit, had found out through listening to conversations. The only problem for him was: Would she take him in? In the state he was in, no. He had to fix up his appearance. So he crawled up the stairs and into Alice's mother’s room. On the dressing table there was a sewing box and next to it, a recently knitted blanket. Alice's mother was having another child soon. He climbed up the chair and grabbed the sewing box, three times larger than he, dropping it on the ground. No-one came up the stairs.

Once his limbs were repaired and the mold and maggots were cleaned out, he started to search for a button for his eye, but was interrupted. The door to the room opened. Instinctively, he dropped everything and sat on the seat, looking like a typical stuffed toy. Standing at the door was Alice, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Her eyebrow was raised slightly. The rabbit began to feel nervous. Alice walked up to him and lifted him up by the scruff of his neck. He did not feel pain, but he still felt fear as Alice scanned him.

"I did not know mother made dolls," she grumbled, holding the rabbit with both hands at eye level. The rabbit noted her eyes were almost red, too.

"I think I will 'borrow' this one," She said holding the doll in her arm dragging it across the floor. Secretly, the rabbit smiled. It worked.

*          *          *

SIGNING OFF!
   RinreiBut Alice was not a very well child. She got colds often, and sometimes fainted if she got too excited. Her parents did not suspect she would live very long with her illness, which was slowly getting worse. It got to the point where she would have to lie in bed almost throughout the day. Her skin got paler and paler, and the colour faded from her cheeks. She was dying, and everyone knew it. Even the rabbit that she kept at her side throughout her illness knew it.

*          *          *

April 2012 Update

Another month gone. Woot.

Well, this month, a war broke out. It's my fault really, but I don't regret starting it up in the slightest. Yes, that's right, I'm speaking of War 250, that little-known battle between the authors of the Kettle for the 250th post on the blog.

The reason for my causing this 'war' (despite it being but a small competition, really) is because everybody needed just a little bit of motivation to post. We, as a blog, were publishing catastrophically few posts, and it was bugging me. So I enacted Protocal 8494 - The 'The Xth Post Wins A Prize' Possibility. In this case, the Xth post is the 250th. And it seems that Protocol 8494 works - we've had greatly increased productivity ever since it was started.

Not long after announcing this little battle of the authors, Rinrei declared war on everyone. Since then, she's been quite active. Nearly as active as myself, as I'm taking part too - well, I don't really want anyone else to get the prze I'm proffering, do I? Past that, Bill is simply uninterested, Matt knows me too well and so doesn't care for taking part in the competition - he simply knows that I'll win, The Eternal Editor decided he would formulate a plan that basically means he wins any way possible, and EMoC has obstinately refused to post anything until the 249th post is published. And that's just cheating.

So, at the time of my writing this, we're at 232 posts, including this one, of course. This means we have less than twenty posts to write. Now, I've been crunching some numbers. These numbers happen to be quite relevant. I've taken the approximate number of days that the blog's been active for and divided it into the number of posts to date, which gives us the number 1.28888888..., rounded to 1.3. This means that the blog churns out approximately 1.3 posts per day. Which, if you factor into several different calculations, gives you the possible finishing date for War 250 as...

April 14th.

So, get posting, authors! I'm sure at least someone can make it. And Editor, no deleting posts. It's simply not nice. (Note from The Editor: Aw...) So, that said, the authors may all pitch in.

 

*          *          *

 

So, warring aside, what's been happening this month? Not much. However, I, Pisces, have been building up a truckload of possibilities for Script Frenzy. That's what's happening this April: Script Frenzy. Click the link. It'll take you to the Screnzy 'About' page. that saves my explaining it to you all.

Apart from that, there is no concrete plan for the coming month. As per usual, time is fluid until experienced... Then it's solid and may not be changed.

Anyway, good April to you all.

How I'm Posting My Progress

Well, Script Frenzy begins tomorrow and I'm not going to have time to say this during the event, so I'm saying it now.

From here on in, I'm in The Zone. This means that pretty much everything I do over the next month or so shall be Screnzy related in some way or other. Seeing as Screnzy's going to take over my life for thirty days (assuming I don't simply burn out and die), I'll talk a lot about what I'm up to and all that good stuff. Alternatively, I'll chuck it over to my other, sideline blog, Journal of an Insane Author. However, in each post remotely to do with Screnzy you shall see this thing below.

 

This is a widget. If it's not working for you, then to heck with your computer.

This little gadget's purpose in life is to show you my stats. It'll tell you how many pages I've written so far. At the end of Screnzy, it'll stick and be stuck forever. (That was a clumsy sentence, but oh well.) It shall act as a marker. I'm sad to say that it's quite likely that this blog shall be overrun with these widgets before the month is out. So now you know what they are.

If you want to look at my stats without the easiness of the described widgets, you can find me on the Script Frenzy site at: http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/eng/user/896055

Have fun with that.

And now, I have some last minute planning to do...

It's Just a Flesh Wound

Today, I came to the conclusion that I am the most idiotic psychopath in the world. And I have clear evidence. I bet you want to know how I found this out. Well, even if you don't, tough luck.

It all started with a conversation between Skald, Pisces and I. I have no idea what we were talking about, but I remember we were looking for last names that ended with 'V' and Skald came up with 'Valentine'. It was here that Pisces made a horrible joke that both impressed and horrified Skald. This was in the form of something another person would say to this 'Valentine' character: "Will you be my Valentine?"

At this comment, Skald ran away from our little group in horror and attempted his escape. Of course, I noted this escape attempt, and bolted after him. I vaulted over the ramp and attempted to tackle him. Instead of dragging him down to the ground I lost my balance and, stupidly enough, fell over.

I got up and brushed myself down as though this werenothing (which it wasn't), and happily skipped (well, walked) back to the group with Skald flapping his arms behind me in panic.

I insisted I was fine, and to prove it I rolled up both of my jean legs, only to see I was not 'fine'. The first knee was perfectly fine and only slightly red, but the other was a completely different story. It was covered in gravel and blood was oozing down my leg. I looked down at it for a moment and laughed. I told Skald, who was the only one who had noticed before I rolled it down, that it was just a scratch, but I should see the nurse anyway.

I told the nurse that I had managed to scratch my knee in a fall, and she decided to see it, thinking it was probably only a little bit red and needed an ice pack. Boy, did she have a heart attack. I never understand people and why they think that deep wounds and lots of blood mean you should be crying your heart out.

While I was having my wound sealed and bound (although I have no idea why all those bandages are necessary), Skald entered the office appearing concerned and offered me free chocolate. I refused, naturally, so he took a seat and had a conversation with the nurse.

I remember, at some point, a random girl came in holding out her pinky saying it had gotten hit and really hurt. Skald and I found this funny because of my horrific injury, which I made a joke out of by saying: "It's just a flesh wound."

Anyway, this wound prevented me from doing P.E that I so desperately wanted to do, and stopped me from going on my daily wander. I also had Skald and his sister Bats following me around (not that I mind, but it's rather awkward after a while) to make sure I didn't damage anything any further.

But seriously, it didn't hurt at all, and everyone that saw it freaked out and insisted on absurd things like going to the health care center or hospital. I'm telling you, it's just a flesh wound. It's not like it'll get so badly infected that my leg will drop off.

So who do I blame for this? Why, Professor Pisces, of course. He told that horrible joke that made Skald attempt an escape, and it was my duty to hunt him down like the Terminator (or Terminator of Terminators, in my case). Now I want Fruit Pastilles. Gimme.

Signing off!
   Rinrei

N.B. This is Pisces speaking. I would simply like to say that it was not, in actual fact, my fault that Rinrei bloodied her knee. It was Skald's fault instead. He was the one who suggested 'Valentine' as a possible second name for a Script frenzy character, so that was the basis of my joke. Therefore, it is Skald's fault that Rinrei died - uh, I mean, hurt herself. Plus, he was the one who ran off!

Blame shifting aside, I'm off.
   Pisces out.

Shoes, or A New Storage Scheme

I've had a revelation, and naturally, the good readers of this blog should be the first to know about it.

People are always running out of space. There never seem to be enough shelves, cupboards, wardrobes and boxes to pack those little things into. That's why I've decided that I should kick off the next big thing. It'll be a revolution when the big corporations get hold of it, I tell you.

That revolutionary idea is: Shoe shelves.

Shoes are hollow, yes? I certainly hope yours are. Otherwise, how would you wear them? Answer: With great difficulty. But I digress.

So shoes are hollow, yes? That makes them prime space for storing trinkets and small onions, if you happen to be the sort of person who piles onions in the corner. Also, shoes take up floor or shelf space that could be used for so many other things (for example, that bag of small onions at the end of your bed or hanging on the end of a tap in the second bathroom). Also, walls generally have lots of space on them - space not being put to use. That's simply because gravity conspires against us to make things not stick to vertical surfaces.

With all the above things in mind, you cannot fail to see where this is going. Yes, that's right: I'm proposing that you pack up your walls and place them inside your shoes.

Actually, that seems like it would be counter-productive. Instead, why not simply gather your shoes and nail them to the wall? (Though not while you're wearing them, obviously. That would be slightly painful.) There's so much space on those walls to nail those shoes in place. Then, you can shove all the onions you want into those little foot-sized hollows, and enjoy a tidy home coupled with an interesting display of potentially colourful shoes.

Alternatively, you could just put up some more shelves.

And that's all I have to say on the matter.

Less Than Three

I have less than three days of freedom remaining before I plunge into the Mighty Prison of Script Frenzy and join the other inmates in writing 100 pages of original scripted material. Yippee. However, there are one or two problems.

Firstly, I don't have enough characters. I have three characters already, but can't seem to find the other threee to five people that I need for this. Plus, I keep trying to avoid names of people I know in case I cause them to get a bit big-headed (like me!).

Secondly, I don't have a proper plot in place as of now. I have the beginnings of one, and I have several others that have sort of been sidelined until they're needed, but I haven't done any concrete planning. And that sucks. It means that I may well be winging it this month, and unlike with NaNo, I can't see that being a particularly good thing.

I'm now off to sort out these problems. I'm thinking that finding an online name generator would be good...

30 Days. 100 Pages. Are you in?

An Invasion?

(Note from The Editor: No offense is meant to any group, faction, race or suchlike through the course of this post. It's simply the raving, rambling remarks of a deranged Professor of Temporal Ideology. Well, I told you he was mad...)

Well, it certainly seems that we have a problem here. No, I'm not talking about Guam, or Matt's mysterious Cuttlefish theory - I'm talking about South Africa, instead.

I am convinced that the (pretty amazing) nation of South Africa is attempting to invade this very country, otherwise known to the rest of you people as 'the blog'.

This fairly improbable, but nonetheless likely, idea stems from a super-increased number in the number of South African computers looking at this site. Considering that this particular plot of cyberspace is supremely small in relation to the Internet at large, it is only natural to assume that this increased interest is due to South Africa's plan to attack.

You may see me as paranoid or crazy - trust me, everyone does - and you would be right, to a degree. I look over my shoulder wherever I go to see whether the Mafia is still after me or the FBI has picked up my trail, or if the government of Greenland has sent a professional kidnapper to forcibly (and illegally) extradite me back to the land of snow and ice for spotting that the Greenland Ice Cap isn't real. (It's true! I have conclusive proof! Simply click here.) However, just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean that they aren't out to get me. And I'm not insane. At least, not clinically. Which means you have to pay close attention to me.

Obviously, this focus of South Africa's attention on this blog indicates that they either plan to: a) take over my blog through forcible means or b) kidnap me so that they can force me to write pro-South African posts.

You're probably thinking: "This guy is mad. All of this is highly unlikely." Simply remember that just because something is improbable, doesn't mean it doesn't happen. Our very existence is unlikely, yet it appears to have occurred approximately sixteen billion times over the last few million years. Factor that into your calculations.

So, no offense to any South Africans, but at least one of you is conspiring to influence what occurs on my blog. Just remember... I'm watching you...

Nukes, and Their Many Uses

Everyone who is anyone loves a multipurpose tool. For example, take a pencil. It can be used as a writing implement and a dangerously dangerous weapon. No, don't look at it that way... It may well explode.

Imagine the following situation: You have a series of problems that need solving. You can't solve them by any normal means. You must find a single thing that will fix all the problems at once.

With this in mind, I present to you the Nuclear Bomb, otherwise known as the Atom Bomb or Oppenheimer's Bundle of Fun. As the TV show 'Primeval' once had a character say...

"Nuking ANYTHING works."

Let's face it: The good general's right. Drop a nuke in the right place, and you really do solve all your problems. Because, let's face it: If you're gonna nuke something, then whatever problems you had beforehand are going to be the least of your worries. Especially if you're very close to said problems at the time of activation...

So, to summarise: When all is lost, nuke it. Even if you're unaware of what 'it' is, nuke it. Trust me. That problem will fade into insignificance very fast indeed, particularly when the UN realises what's happened and who's culpable for it.

Rinrei's Rants No. 8 - Food Fights in Art

As you can probably tell from the title, this post is about a food fight in art, specifically during an art EXAM.

I was just finishing off my exam piece, minding my own business, when in comes Shrimpy McShrimp Shrimp holding the most dangerous weapon known to man: An orange. Being the quiet person I usually am in art (mainly due to exams), I said nothing and continued with my work. That was when it happened.

Shrimpy clasped the orange in his hand, making it squirt out orange blood (and leaving the orange crying for mercy), then tossed it at one of the most irritating human worms in the world. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to give out real names so I'll simply call him The Annoying Duck. He threw it at The Annoying Duck. This little duck had an IQ of -5 (lower than a tree, you know), so he decided that since he was 'finished' his exam he could take the orange from his display (which two people were still drawing from) and throw it back at Shrimpy. Needless to say, this is what he did, and chaos ensued.

I'm not sure how, but this turned into an all-out Battle of the Oranges and Tomatoes as, across the two classrooms, those of us that were still drawing or didn't WANT to get in trouble sat in the corner and suffered.

Eventually, one of the oranges came too close to hitting my display. I felt my eye twitch uncontrollably, and I shook with fury. Of course, the idiots that were involved thought I was upset and decided that it would be fun to laugh at my 'pain'. Slowly, struggling not to stab someone with my scissors, I rose from my seat and grabbed the orange piece (now it was really screaming) and marched over to the other classroom, but before I had the chance to rub the poor orange in Shrimpy's face; I stopped.

With all my willpower, I put on a blank face and dropped the orange into the bin. With my friend, Bats, I cleaned up their mess and waited for them to leave. Once they were gone, I began kicking at a nearby table (causing bits to break off; that was a lie, by the way) and, after cooling down enough to stop myself from throttling the nearest person, I got up and told the poor teacher the bad news.

Let's say that instead of feeling awkward or upset when the head teacher comes in, I will be chuckling in the corner thinking: "You deserve it, you little so-and-so." Which goes to show that in real life I really can be cruel, although I'm much more subtle about it.


So as a little warning to you jerks if you ever read this: DON'T THROW FOOD IN THE CLASSROOM! Unlike you, idiots, we actually intend to pass at least one of our exams and not spend our time chatting on the phone and acting like immature brats. Unlike you, we intend to get good jobs and not rely on our parents for the rest of our lives! NOW DIE, DAMN YOU!

Ahem. Signing off!

Rinrei

The Black Knight

Hello, everyone. It is I, Bill. I trust you were all well in my absence. Haha, no doubt.

 Now let me get to business. Fire Emblem. It did it again. You thought the javelin general was bad? This makes that look like a good thing.

So I've been stuck on this chapter for a while, and today, I finally started getting somewhere. My army had wiped out a fair amount of the foe's forces. Then Ike, believe it or not, got damaged a little and had no restoration potions on him (those are potions that restore health, y'know). So I sent my poor defenceless priest to go aid him.

The priest took a shortcut down this alleyway and, just as he walked past the only house there, out popped the Black Knight, the most powerful soldier in the game... He just, y'know, happened to be in a peasant's house in the tiniest village you could find. And, despite him being the scariest thing I've ever seen, I thought he would leave me alone. I wish. He turned to poor old Rhys (the priest) and, in one blow, he killed him.

The annoying part wasn't that he killed my priest. No, it was, that Rhys got killed by a ranged attack. With a sword? Honestly.

Well anyway, Rhys went down like road kill, and by this point I was almost in tears. So I switched off the game and I've been staring crossly at the console ever since.

In other news, over the past week my English teach- Sorry. My grandson's English teacher stole my shoe, twice. And finally, Professor Pisces' hair. Farewell!

Through the Rabbit Hole

Hello, children. (That was a 'relative comment' - no matter how old you are, you're still a child. At least, you are to me.)
Obviously, I'm referencing 'Alice in Wonderland' and 'The Matrix' at the same time here. Therefore, your reading this either means one of the following:

1. You're questioning the nature of reality.
2. You're simply asleep and dreaming something really, really weird.
3. You're bored or you're interested.

If you answered with A, B or C, I would have to refer you to your kindergarten/nursery school teacher. If you answered 1, then I'd simply ask you to email me and we could discuss how messed up the world is anyway. And if you answered 2, then I'd ask you to get a CT scan, because medical science could benefit from looking at your brain. Seriously.

So, if you're here, you are seeking an answer, and I believe you know the question. No, it isn't 'What is the Matrix?'. Frankly, I'm not sure myself as to what the question is, but that isn't the point. Or maybe it is.

Well, one thing is apparent if you've lasted this long: You're completely mad. Heheheh, we're all mad here. 'How do you know I am?' I hear you cry! Well, if you weren't mad, then you wouldn't be here, now would you?

So, I offer you a choice. You pick the blue pill, and you forget all of this. You go back to your life as you were, with no knowledge of this post nor its contents. But if you pick the red pill, I'll show you how deep the rabbit hole really goes...But it seems I'm out of both. Drat. Plus, that wasn't a quote of anything at all. It was a paraphrase.

I enjoy questioning reality. It's fun. It's also an interesting, if slightly mindboggling, topic of conversation. It gets better when you get down to the nitty gritty existential stuff though. That's the tasty stuff. Yum. However, questioning the nature of something doesn't necessarily infer that you wish for an answer to said question. It may imply it, but it by no means infers it. That's an interesting key difference.

I have, quite possibly run out of things to say for now. However, it's safe to say that:

• I have asserted myself as the Neo, Morpheus and Mad Hatter of this particular blog.
• You're all wondering if I'm actually mad, or just experiencing delusions of madness.

If a person suffers delusions of madness, are they mad, or sane with a mad streak, or just doubly crazy?

Just a topic for conversation at the dinner table for you.

Boredboredboredboredbored

If you haven't already got the gist of this post from the title, then I encourage you to see a brain doctor for a CAT scan.

As you may or may not have guessed (see above statement), I am pretty much bored out of my wits. This stems from the fact that I get to go and see 'The Hunger Games' tomorrow. As such, time moves very slowly for me at present - relatively speaking, of course - and robs me of the spectacular imaginative streak that I like to utilise to think of things to do.

Being bored isn't necessarily a case of having nothing to do. This is made fairly obvious to a body when he or she is sitting at a desk at work, bored with typing up a report. There is, quite obviously, something to be doing, however that doesn't banish boredom from the equation. In my case, this is doubly true. There are people I could be talking to, work I could be doing, things to be writing, movies to be watching - and yet I don't do any of these. I would tell you that I'm simply posting to illuminate those in darkness and talk to those willing to listen, but that would be a load of poetic drivel. Not to mention it being a lie.

Several things occur to me in this moment.

1. I am not doing any work (N.B. I don't consider blogging work), though I could be making use of this time to do so. This is because I simply cannot be bothered.
2. I'm not outside, chasing a ball in a pointless excercise. This is because I can actually spot that there is no point in this activity as I am an overthinking, condescending being of complete and utter laziness. From that statement, you may extrapolate another conclusion as to why I'm not playing football or otherwise excercising.
3. I'm not making harmonic music with my instruments, for one of them is being borrowed from someone else as the original is getting fixed and I don't like the one I've been loaned and the other requires me to connect some cables into the input and output jacks of the guitar and amplifier and I simply cannot be bothered with it. Plus, the clarinet needs assembling and I'm not in a constructive mood right now.
4. I could be writing the next great classic of literature, but I appear not to have a Microsoft Word or Celtx file open. This is because my imagination is kaput and I have no inclination to do any work at all. Note the use of the word 'inclination' rather than 'inspiration'. I have plenty of inspiration, but next to none of the former.

Because it requires effort to do any of the listed activities, I'm not going to partake in any of the above. Instead, I'm now going to type simply what's coming into and exiting my head as and when it does so.

Message begins: BoredboredboredboredHungerGamesHungerGamesHungerGames - I'm hungry. Pizzapizzapizzapizza. Forearm. Why is it there? Bite forearm. Ouch. Gertrude. Why'd I think that? I don't even know anyone called Gertrude, asides from that cow. Squirrel. Running, leaping, flopping, eating. Pizzapizzapizzapizza. ZZZZZ. Zedzedzedzedzed. That is how it must be said. Woo... I'm a ghost. No I'm not, I'm alive and kicking - no, wait, typing - simply typing. Typin' in ma boots. Boots. Durable, hardy, rubber. Blackbury. Johnny and the Dead. Terry Pratchett. Sure thing, bruv. Deathy Hallows, Part 1. Deathly Hallows, Part 2. Ex-girlfriend. Why did I think that? Rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock.

And that concludes my thoughts for today.

I'm off to be bored and play Mancala.

Top Three Funnest Ways to Get Revenge

Hiya! Rinrei here and boy am I in a murderous mood. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because I didn't know that I have an English talk to prepare for Monday until this very day. This has left me feeling absolutely rubbish, as I only just finished my portfolios. Five of them. Does the teacher seriously think I have the time to be practising a talk with so many deadlines coming up!? So, in vengeful Rinrei fashion, I am going to type up my Top Three Revenge plans. And since this is me, it's fun for homicidal maniacs.

#1: The Blue Paper Plan
It's rather simple really. This is for a person that I really don't like. Anyway, the best way to get this started is to drug your victim's drink so that they are unconscious while you take them to the designated location of their death. Make sure that you bind their hands and feet in case they wake up early. I always suggest that, to keep your victim in an upright position while preparing them, it is best to first tie them to a pole.

Next, make an incision in the belly and remove the intestine (small, not big) carefully so that they do not die before they are prepared. Don't fully remove the intestine because... Well, where's the fun in that?

Next, loop the intestines around the victim's neck and tie it around the pipes above them in a knot, too high for them to reach. The knot has to be tough as well so that the noose doesn't come loose. Remove the pole, but keep something under their feet so that they have something to balance on until they wake up (I suggest an ice block). Of course, you could wait until they are conscious and aware of what is going on before anything happens. The ice block under their feet will slowly melt away (which is why I suggest a nice hot room), and they will slowly choke to death. Since they will eventually suffer from asphyxia; they will turn blue. Hence, the Blue Paper Plan.

Note from The Editor: Where does 'paper' come into it?
#2: The Possessed Piano
Of course, the piano isn't really possessed, but it'd be fun to make them think so.

The way to make this really scary to start with, is to record some piano music on a recorder that will not make the music sound recorded. Make sure that this music is timed so that when there is no-one but the victim in the room, the music plays (make sure they can't find it, because that ruins the moment). Make this creepy music available both at work and at home so that they cannot rest without living in fear. They will be afraid of sleeping and being alone and will eventually snap and break down. Then they will be taken to get medical help. The song will be stuck in their heads, so even if you don't play it, they will hear it.

#3: The Deadly Car
Of course, you can only do this when the person has a car in a room with no windows (or locked windows) and a sealed, shut door. The engine of the car needs to be on and they must not be able to turn it off. Whether this involves taking their car keys and then locking the door, I'm not sure. Either way, they can NOT turn off the car engine.

This one is rather dull as you can't watch the effects, but this is one where the victim ends up choking on the car fumes and there is no evidence of you being involved, except in the case of the the missing car keys, which you should wash to get rid of any fingerprints. Place them back where you found them (with gloves so as not to add any fingerprints; I know the police will be suspicious about the lack of ANY fingerprints, but it's better than having yours on it), and then play the innocent little person that had no idea this would happen.

*            *            *

I've been told to limit my violent thoughts a bit so I didn't add my whole ten, and the violence was inhibited slightly so the law wouldn't suspect me of any recent murders. People already suspect me of that. What on Earth would make them think that?

Signing off!
   Rinrei

Rinrei Apologises

I had no idea I had offended you so much. The whole post was intended to be exaggerated and appear as of a joke than an actual serious post, and I did not intend to offend anyone in any way. Allow me to apologise for offending you, but it really was intended to be a joke. None of the comments put in the post were actually intended to be taken seriously and I just felt that the best thing to do was to send in a response post, like one usually does, although you appeared to have not liked it. This is something apparent from your previous post.

The whole gun incident was more of a spur of the moment thing, and I had no intention of beating you up or irritating you to a new level with it. The 'little nut job' comment was not intended to insult you, but was more of a little 'haha, lame joke' comment rather than an insult, and I apologise that you saw it as such.

Again, in your second quote, it was intended to be exaggerated to sound better without saying anything too insulting or crude and again, I apologise that it offended you. (Although I still think you should have gone easy on Bear *she's called that because it's her real nickname, by the way* since she was a beginner.)

In the third quote, I really didn't intend to come off as whiny and a bit of a - I better not say what I'm thinking. It was more of a way to end the paragraph than anything and I really did not make it an objective to irritate you that day: It just happened.

Again, the entire post was exaggerated, and none of it was intented to insult you in any way. I was not comparing you to me in any intended fashion in that paragraph. I was merely stating that we both have a dislike of each other in some way because we both hate each others personalities. Both for obvious reasons.

Again, I apologise if my previous post appears as an insult to you, and if you don't like it then don't hesitate to delete it from the blog. I will not be offended. After all, you have an excuse for this.

So, that's the apology over. I'm heading off now.
   Rinrei off.

N.B. Pisces: Apology accepted. Though I'm not deleting those posts - they make for good reading.

Guns, My Face and Why I'm Slightly Peeved

(This post has been labelled a 'Rant' rather than simply an 'Insight'. This is because this is, without doubt, going to turn into more of a rant than simply a statement of how I view the world. And Rinrei, I'm prepared for whatever response you might have. Please, do feel free to chuck it at me either in person or through the comments section. Either way, I'll learn lots about you from how you respond.)
I'd like to start by saying: Rinrei, I've read your post, and I'm minorly displeased. Not displeased enough to delete your post, or even enough to ask The Editor to do it for me, but displeased enough for you to have reason to take note of my displeasure.

Firstly, how this all began: I posted yesterday with a post named 'Heartlessness, and Why I Don't See it as Bad', outlining a controversial view of why speed bumps are unnecessary. I said in the post that it was a controversial view, but also stated that I think I have a right to talk about what I think. It wasn't all that serious, but CERTAIN PEOPLE just take things too far.

Why am I displeased? The simple, three word answer is: Rinrei's recent post. In said post, Rinrei told the story of what happened this very day - how she brought a toy gun with her and pointed it at my face.

I actually have no objection with this story being told. It's a fair enough subject for a post - it has some scope, is what I'm saying - but it's all in the telling, isn't it? I simply don't like how it was told. But I'll get to that later. First, I need to lay down what I disagree with. All the below quotations are from the post by Rinrei entitled 'My Weirdness, and A Gun'. (Click the title to take you to the post itself. I encourage you to read it first.)

*            *            *

"So, I took the gun and pointed it at his (Pisces) head. He flinched for a second, and then started laughing. Little nut job."

OK, first thing I'm pointing at: Little nut job? Have we an idea of who's actually calling me a nut job? This is Rinrei, the one pointing a toy gun, loaded with a foam bullet, at me. She has no right to call me a nut job, nor little, for that matter. After all, I'm about a head taller than Rinrei. So way. (Rasp!)

Secondly, read this passage through:

"I pointed the gun at Pisces again after he cheated at a game of chess with my friend, Bear, and I was given permission by Skald to bring out the gun. Of course, I did it. It was after Skald left that Pisces got annoyed with the gun pointed at his head and began to annoy me too. Then I shot him. In the eye. The truth was, I pulled the trigger by accident, but that doesn't matter. It taught him that I really would shoot, but the lesson is never learnt."

There are several inaccuracies that I wish to point out here. Firstly, I did not 'cheat' at that game of chess. Those of you who know me will know that, when playing chess, I never cheat. However, this doesn't stop certain people from claiming that I do in a futile attack on my reputation and integrity.

What happened here was that 'Bear' (why 'Bear', Rinrei?) and I were playing chess, and I made to make a move, but when I decided not to make that move, Skald attempted to stop me. This is because I had taken my fingers from the piece which I was contemplating moving. Now I was unaware that the game I was playing was being played under the 'Fingers Away, Other Player's Play' rule. This is due to the fact that I never play using this rule, and it's generally accepted that when we play, we play nonchalantly and without such petty rules as that. Skald insisted I make the move that I had aborted in blatant disregard of the rule that I had no idea was in place. Because nobody told me we were using the One-Touch rule, I couldn't have known to play accordingly. Therefore the blame is shared. So it can't be said that I cheated, as I didn't do anything wrong. After all, I made the move after a certain conversation with Skald anyway, so your point is moot.

Next, pulling a gun - no matter how fake - is not going to make any situation imaginable better. What I mean is that it's not going to relieve any tension at all. In fact, I see that particular action as offensive and an invitation to a confrontation. Making an aggressive move such as that is simply asking for somebody to get annoyed, which had apparently already happened. I credit Rinrei's poker face with that - when showing any sort of negative emotion, her face goes blank and you can't tell how annoyed/frustrated/angry she is at all until she kills you. You get the picture.

Threatening anyone is really just asking for it. End of story. Except, it isn't the end of the story. I have further objections to list.

You say you shot me in the eye. You're wrong. You actually shot me just under my eye, in the cheek. I simply said, rather loudly, "You almost got my eye, you idiot!" because you almost (but did not) get my eye, and I didn't fully expect the sensation of a foam dart impacting in the soft flesh of my cheek.

Lastly (at least for this particular section), you didn't teach me anything. There was, after all, nothing to learn. I had no doubt you would pull the plastic trigger of your blue 'Spy Academy' toy gun. The only variable here was when you would get annoyed enough. After all, if you were wanting to prove that you wouldn't hesitate then you would've shot me when you drew the thing. The only question here was where the line was drawn.

*            *            *

Next up for dissection is the following:

"This point was proved after he yelled at me as though the gun was actually a threat. Was it going to kill some vital 'I NEED TO PLEASE PEOPLE' brain cells or something? Nah, he just doesn't like me with a gun and finds me annoying. That accomplished my mission for the day."

Right. Here we go...

I did not yell. I didn't even speak in particularly raised tones. I didn't view the toy gun as a threat (who would? I'm not an idiot, Rinrei), rather it was an annoyance and an intrusion, not to mention a deliberate invitation to argue.

I do not have 'I Need to Please People' brain cells, though I admit that they would be useful. A foam bullet is hardly going to kill any cells at all, especially not when I have a not-too-thin, not-too-thick skull and a layer of skin covering that. If you're going to play your cards that way in trying to get me riled, keep on playing, but you'll lose. I like people to get their facts right.

You are right when you say I don't like you with a gun, but really? Did you expect anything different? It's not that you  have a gun so much as it's pointed at my head. That crosses the line - it's a built-in response, more a meme than anything else. It's an invitation to aggression, as I've said several times in the past over the course of this post.

Finally, you say 'that accomplished my mission'. I'm aware that you do your best to be annoying and irritating (why else would you act as you do?), but I'm afraid that that final comment seals it for me. I have nothing but pity for you, tinged with mild annoyance. If you're really going to do things simply to accomplish the 'mission' of annoying me, then fine, but know this: It's a really, really sad thing to do, let alone admit. The phrase 'You Have No Life' pops into mind as a ready response.

*            *            *

I have one final part that I'd like to draw people's attention to.

"However, something in my brain tripped, and I turned the gun around and almost swung the handle into his face. I'm not sure why; something just irritated me all of a sudden. I'm one of those people who gets irritated by Pisces for no apparent reason. He's the same. Every now and then, he gets the urge to throttle me. I'm not entirely sure why."

You like to exaggerate, don't you? 'I almost swung the handle into his face', my rear end. Yeah right. What you actually did was turned it round, looked at it for a long second, and put it away. Or did you forget that?

I don't blame you for wishing to throttle me - I'm just one of those people. Then again, far too many people wanted to throttle Galileo, too, for much the same reason as you - you disagree with my views. People who take different views to the majority are open to hecklers and people with closed minds. After all, didn't I say that in my post?

This is my final point: You know nothing of what goes on in my head. Have I ever actually said that I wish to throttle you? Not that I recall. I say again: You have actually no idea what goes on in my head; you cannot comprehend the workings of my mind, just as I cannot fathom the way yours works. Comparing yourself to me is an ugly comparison. We are completely different in nearly every way, and that's a statement I'll only make because I've thought long and hard about it. So don't. Ever. Compare. Yourself. To me. Nobody has that right. For you have but scratched the surface, from what you're saying here. So just don't.

*            *            *

I had no way to know that you were almost run down by a car, Rinrei. I also had no inclination to lock away my opinion, or avoid posting my opinion online. Because, let's face it, however much anyone presses a point such as this, it's simply an opinion.

In conclusion, I'm sorry for what happened to you, as it's obviously affected you deeper than even you may believe. You have my pity, but not my apologies. I shall not apologise for how I think, nor for how you take my opinion, my words, my thoughts. If you want to take it to heart, then go ahead. However, I feel that I simply need to say: Actions may speak louder than words, but sometimes a smaller dosage is what we require. I don't need to say that I'm sorry for something I was unaware of doing.

I have done nothing wrong.

Next time you decide to joke around with a toy gun, try to think through the possible consequences of your actions. And now I give you a chance, an offer to you that may just help. However, it all depends upon how you answer the following question:

What are you going to do next?

And remember, actions speak louder than words. Whatever you do next, I'll draw a conclusion from it. To quote Rush: "...if you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice."

Newton's Third Law: Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

Oh, did you think it simply applied to physics? Think again.

My Weirdness, and A Gun

I pointed a gun at Pisces today. Twice. The first time was first thing in the morning after I had read his earlier post, which I found offensive, as I was almost hit by a car (I was actually being reasonable and crossing when the light was red, too; It was that driver's fault), and secondly because I just don't like people talking about how more people should die to keep the population down.

This was when I came up with an idea. I thought I would bring a toy gun to school (I'm obviously not allowed to bring in a real one), and I would point it at his head. What was going on in my weird little head while I was packing the gun into my bag was: I wonder how many people would miss him if he died? I'm one of those people. I like making someone think about their own value and importance in the world and how many people will miss them and for how long. Basically, I like making them feel worthless.

Unfortunately, Pisces is one of those 'others' that places themselves in their own category that is separated from the rest of human society. I find this category rather hilarious. It is a category where people do not know their own peremptory disposition and are willing to taunt the person holding the gun.

While Pisces is certainly not high on this list, there was this one person who had this sort of personality on a high level. This person was a (quite strong word that I, The Editor, have chosen to remove). I'll tell you that much. He always looked down on the people around him believing that he was above all these people and far more superior, which is why he had no friends. Whenever people tried to talk to him or be friends with him, his narcissistic personality got in the way and whenever it came to teamwork, he would be too busy thinking of himself and insulting others. When I was young and innocent, I tried to be friends with this person, but he looked down at me and said: Why would I want to be friends with a stupid brat like you? It was then that I realised that the world has more than just good and bad people. It also has arrogant idiots in between the two.

Anyway, that's not the point. So, I took the gun and pointed it at his (Pisces) head. He flinched for a second, and then started laughing. Little nut job. After an interesting little talk with the people across from me, still with the gun in my hand, I put the gun away and read my book.

I pointed the gun at Pisces again after he cheated at a game of chess with my friend, Bear, and I was given permission by Skald to bring out the gun. Of course, I did it. It was after Skald left that Pisces got annoyed with the gun pointed at his head and began to annoy me too. Then I shot him. In the eye. The truth was, I pulled the trigger by accident, but that doesn't matter. It taught him that I really would shoot, but the lesson is never learnt.

This point was proved after he yelled at me as though the gun was actually a threat. Was it going to kill some vital 'I NEED TO PLEASE PEOPLE' brain cells or something? Nah, he just doesn't like me with a gun and finds me annoying. That accomplished my mission for the day.

However, something in my brain tripped, and I turned the gun around and almost swung the handle into his face. I'm not sure why; something just irritated me all of a sudden. I'm one of those people who gets irritated by Pisces for no apparent reason. He's the same. Every now and then, he gets the urge to throttle me. I'm not entirely sure why.

Anyway, that's an odd post over! I'm off to find Area 51 now!
Signing off!
   Rinrei

Heartlessness, and Why I Don't See it as Bad

Heartless is something I'm sometimes called by insensitive fools with closed minds. This is because (surprise!) the world is full of insensitive fools with closed minds. Radical views are often simply dismissed as crazy or terrible, simply because people like their own views and don't like to venture out of their comfort zones.
   Allow me to explain.

It has long been an obsession of mine to find a definitive solution to the growing global crisis of overpopulation. With seven billion people already occupying the planet, it is only logical to assume that in the near future, the population figures will cross a line and resources will be limited. The trick with overpopulation is to keep the numbers below that line. But I digress.
   Running at a parallel to my overpopulation obsessions is my 'Why do we care so much?' string, which basically stands for itself - Why is it that we care so much about singular human lives, and why is it that we proceed to attempt to save people all the time?
   This has always been a controversial topic for conversation, especially with certain people who like a conflict or are simply grumpy. I find that people dislike leaving their comfort zones - it is akin to stepping from a warm house out into a cold, winter's night in many ways - and this causes problems. But I digress.
   The day was a Thursday (an unfailingly mundane day, in my humble opinion), and it was but a young day at the time, too - the hour hand had not yet passed nine in the morning - when I brought up the subject of how I hate speed bumps. I decided to step out there and say what I was thinking, which was, at the time, that slowing down cars aids no benefit to the human race.
   Slowing down cars is, if you believe the council, a good use for our money. People get knocked down by speeding cars all the time, and it's supposedly our proper place to make sure it doesn't continue to happen. The truth is that it is a burden to the human race. Keeping more people alive a) decreases the likelihood of survival for certain others b) puts a further drain on already limited resources and c) if they aren't going to look before they leap, who are we to save them? It's natural selection, I tell you. If they aren't nimble enough, fast enough, or aren't intelligent enough to look out for traffic and avoid it, they needn't contribute to future generation's gene pools. Simple.
   Of course, when I argue I argue hard and well, and expect a good show, but this was Evil who I was arguing with, so she simply turned on her heel and said: "You heartless soul."

I appear to be disinclined to agree with my friend and co-worker in this particular area. As people who know me know quite well, I am not heartless, simply forwards and uncompromising in my views. As Sun Tzu once said in his famous work 'The Art of War':

"There are... dangerous faults which may affect a general: ...over-solicitude... which exposes him to worry and trouble."

(Over-solicitude, of course, means to be overly concerned about something or other. Just saying.)
   Of course I am not a general, but this quote, as any seasoned person should well know, is quite true. If we were all to worry about the state of the world as it is, then none of us would get any sleep at night. Therefore it is necessary for humans to have a certain 'heartlessness' to them.
   Maybe I'm just a cold human being, but I believe otherwise. A lack of care for certain issues does not betray a soulless human, rather it defines one who is but a normal person. Just because I disagree over the relative benefits of speed bumps doesn't make me a harsh or horrible person; quite the opposite: Being able to look at both sides of the argument and then actually pipe up for the lesser is in many ways a challenge to be relished.
   As it is, I am not heartless and cold. I simply keep a broad and open mind. Can you say the same?

Talking to Oneself, and Why it Helps One Revise

Everyone in my family talks to themselves, and I am no exception. However, there is a difference between my family and I: I talk to myself a whole lot more than anyone else. I only do it because I like breaking the fourth wall between me and an invisible audience, laughing at my stupid and weird life and questioning the things I do.

   I also do it because it stops me from being reminded that I am completely isolated. However, I also stop myself from feeling isolated by talking to my poor, blind teddy bear (blame the dog for ripping out his eyes, not me). Ted and I also sort of lean back in my chair and comment on things I'm watching as though there is somebody. (There could be someone else. Maybe it's a ghost. That would be rather awkward.)

   Then there are the times when I am just sitting in my chair, mumbling to myself. These unusual mumblings often bring up questions and answers that I would never have come up with within my own head, and also give me ideas for work; which is highly effective when you have Writer's Block or a maths exam to revise for.

   Usually, reading out stuff to yourself makes you realise how stupid something sounds, and gives you reason to burn your work to ashes. Another thing I once did was to use my audacity for a little commentary about something, and I learnt that my voice has a surprisingly high pitch, even though when I hear it, it is really rather low. That is when I came to the conclusion that when you speak, the pitch is altered as it reaches your ears.
   Anyway, talking to oneself is an effective way to learn, and also helps you realise just how weird your voice really is.

So off I go to dig a hole! DIGGY DIGGY HOLE!
   Signing off!

      Rinrei

Talking to Yourself, and How to Encourage It

I've always said that talking to yourself isn't a sign of your going mad, but a sign that you maintain a sliver of sanity somewhere within you. Then again, this is me who originally said this, and I'm the one who runs a blog called 'Journal of an Insane Author'. Heheh.
   However, I believe I have a point. (Well, I would, wouldn't I?) Talking to oneself allows one to put things out in the open and sort them out much easier. Our heads get crowded from time to time, whether with thoughts or voices or pictures, and we naturally need a sort of cat-flap for them to let them out unimpeded. Enter the mouth, the voice box and the uniquely human ability to talk to oneself.
   But this post isn't about how and why folk talk to themselves or to dummies in order to get those thoughts straightened out. Instead, it's about how to encourage doing so.

Recently, I got given a fair amount of money to spend upon myself, so naturally I dished out on some things I've been gazing at for a while: More Story Cubes, Iron Maiden albums, and...
   A Digital Voice Recorder, or dictaphone to those in the know. I've actually been on the lookout for one of these beauties for several months, hoping to find one cheap enough to be affordable but high enough quality to make for some interesting usage. I found one on Amazon (as you do), and, needless to say, bought it.
   After the regular mishaps and antics (courtesy of the Royal Mail), I eventually got hold of the device to find myself in possession of a remarkably small piece of tech. I put it to immediate use three days after getting it.
   I've always said that using something in the environment it was designed for is the best way to get the best out of something - for example, the only way you can really make use of an ROV is for it to be underwater - so I took it to the usual spot, and became embroiled in a chess game. Me being me, I said to myself, "This is great. A crowded environment with background noise and all that, with some friendly banter between me and Bats here. This is just prime."
   Switched on the recorder, and ten minutes and a chess game later, voila! I have a recording, mostly of my talking to Bats and her talking back to me. A few minutes of editing later, and I had some pretty funny clips that I can now play back whenever I wish, including one of Bats saying: "I'm trapped in a dictaphone factory and the machine is going to kill me soon... Aargh..." (Sigh. What a life, eh?)

OK, nice story, but that's not really the point. The point is that I could actually listen to that recording and retrace my steps through certain parts of the conversation. That was important. Now it means I can follow my own thought processes, which is great, because no-one else can. Ell-oh-ell. (Enjoy that one, Bill.)
   In short, this dictaphone shall help me realise what goes on in my own head. Plus, it'll allow me to listen to myself play music and record clips of stuff on the web and lectures and things. But the following what's going on in my head's better.
   Of course, in order to conduct an experiment like the one that I am subtly proposing, I must talk to myself. A lot. (Service as usual, I guess.) That means closed doors, conversations with others in which I can have a monologue and stuff like that. But trust me, this'll turn out fine.
   And, now, I'll just edit the recording I made of myself talking me through my thought processes as I wrote this.
   How do I take out all that horrible keyboard clacking? Just... eugh...

See you, crazies. I'll be off to the Sane Asylum, where I can take refuge from you crazy people.

Subliminal Messages in 'The Powerpuff Girls'

I'm one of those people who refer to old cartoons for inspiration (Rinrei here, by the way!), and I came across some old classics I used to love when I was younger. This included 'The Powerpuff Girls', a particular favourite of mine.
   Anyway, I having gotten to episode ten I have come to the conclusion it is far darker than I ever imagined it to be. Let's start by looking at the first few 'subliminal' messages I discovered...

1. It's safe for five-year-old girls to be off fighting people (or in this case, monsters) way bigger and supposedly stronger than them.

2. It's perfectly fine to arrest said five-year-old girls even though you have to be eight to be prosecuted.

3. Old men are senile and incompetent and will also let you get away with destroying all their stuff.

4. Hillbillies are violent and tend to beat up anyone that sets foot on their property. They also happen to name their banjo Joey.

5. It's fine to beat up you father's/mother's girlfriend/boyfriend if you think they aren't nice

6. Your father/mother's girlfriend/boyfriend is mean and will make you do all the work and will actually stay up until midnight to catch you making mischief.

7. Gang members have no morals.

8. It's perfectly fine for a 20-year-old man to date a five-year-old girl. Perfectly fine.

Now, if you watch the first ten episodes you can see all these messages secretly hidden somewhere in the episode (except for 1, 8 and 9), which leaves you wondering just how many subliminal messages are in this. I'm only ten episodes in; I have 42 more to go. Oh boy, I can't wait to see what they come up with next.

Anyway, that is all. I'm too busy recovering from just reaching the deadline for my portfolios to care about anything else, so I'm signing off here.
   Rinrei

Definition of the Day - Politician

Politician - A person who speaks a lot but says very little.

No-one really loves politicians for what they do, do they? They lie and they cheat and they mislead and they claim expenses for toilet roll. Then they get paid for it. That isn't fair, is it? They hold lots of power. After all, that's the point of their being around. But still, th outcome isn't all that great...
   Let's look at it this way round: What's the alternative?
   The simple answer is anarchy. To paraphrase my favourite book, 'In the abscence of a ruler, all men do what is right in their own eyes'. So if there wasn't a ruling class or party that controlled practically everything, we'd all do what we saw fit. The Birmingham Riots would be the tip of the iceberg.
   In short (and this post is short, so I'll go in for very short instead), the government is to the country what life is to normal people: It's not great and it's far from perfect, but it's better than the alternative.

Good day, citizens.

Mother's Day

Happy You-gave-birth-to-the-most-horrid-brats-on-the-planet Day! Rinrei here!
   Now, since I was unable to bake that cake, today I will just have to make do with chocolates and, since I have plenty of time before that, I'm going to be posting up a little Mother's Day Present.
   So, without further ado, here's the story.

"Alright, is everyone ready?" Lily stood leaning over her two younger siblings, who had just woken up. They stood stiff with their arms at their sides and a serious look on their faces.
   "Yes, Ma'am!"
   "Today's mission: Make Mum a Mothers Day cake!" Lily unraveled a large piece of paper across the table. On the paper was an over thought plan in red marker. "Pablo, you get the recipe book from the living room!"
   Pablo answered with a 'yes ma'am' before trotting out.
   Lily then turned her attention on her other brother, Gilbert. "You start to get out the bowls and whisks."
   "What are you going to do?"
   Lily smirked at this question. "I'm the oldest, so I get to take out all the food."  Gilbert was about to complain when there was a loud bang from inside the living room.
   On his way to the bookcase, Pablo had realised that he was not quite tall enough to reach the cook book, and had decided to climb on the sofa. Sadly, he still could not reach it and leaned further forward. He slipped and grabbed the book shelf as support, but the book shelf broke free from the wall under his weight, and they both collapsed to the floor as a result.
   Lily and Gilbert came pounding in soon after. Lily let out a gasp of horror and astonishment, before getting angry and yelling at him.
   "Now look at what you've done! You're going to get us into trouble!" She stormed up to him and snatched the book. "You can't even get one stupid book without messing things up!"
   Pablo felt so ashamed of himself. He was completely useless. "I-I'm sorry." He started to hiccup. "I-I'm really sorry."
   Lily turned to face him. He was such a cry baby, but then again, maybe she was a bit too harsh. She sighed rather loudly. "Fine, I'll forgive you this time, but don't do it again." Lily helped him up. "Oh, look at you! You're bleeding everywhere!"
   Indeed, he had cut his arm, but the scratch would hardly count as 'bleeding everywhere'.
   "We're going to have to wrap that up real good!" Lily began to drag Pablo into the bathroom and sat him on the toilet seat. She took a roll of toilet paper and began to loosely wrap it around his entire arm. "I see doctors at the hospital use this on sick patients, so it must work."
   Gilbert, on the other hand, had raided all the cupboards for potential pieces of equipment. Basically, he took out everything. Next, he decided he was responsible enough to start making the cake.
   He searched around the recipe book until a certain picture caught his eye. Just looking at it made his mouth water. This would be perfect.
   "Start by mixing flour in with butter..." Gilbert noticed how the author had spelt 'flower' wrong, and thought it would be best if he re-wrote it, but first he would need to find some flowers. The back garden would be a great place to start.
   Lily came back into the kitchen with Pablo dressed as a mummy behind her. She noticed Gilbert coming back from the garden with a bunch of flowers pulled from the roots in his hands.
   "It says to mix flowers with butter," he stated, dumping them into a bowl.
   "Oh, right." Lily looked over at the book. She would mix the eggs. "Gilbert, can you take out the eggs?"
   Pablo watched his siblings hard at work. Gilbert was struggling to mix the flowers in with a large clump of butter, and Lily was crushing the eggs in a bowl with her hands, trying to avoid cutting herself on the sharp pieces.
   "Lily, what can I do?" Lily looked down at her mummified brother and smiled.
   "Can you turn the oven on?"
   Pablo pushed one of the chairs over to the oven switch and climbed onto it, turning the switch on. He then looked down at all the buttons and wondered what to do next.
   Gilbert began to grow bored of his job. Nothing was happening. He needed a quick resolution to his problem. He began to look for the blender.
   Lily stopped when she thought she had finished mixing the eggs. The sharp bits had been crushed into tiny specs. She just needed to see how her brothers were doing.
   Gilbert dropped the flowers and clump of butter into the blender then flicked the switch.
   Butter and shreds of flower splattered everywhere: On the floor; On the windows; On the walls. Even on the ceiling.
   "Gilbert, you idiot! We have to clean this up before Mummy wakes up, and now you have to make the flower and butter mix again!"
   Gilbert was left to redo his mix while Pablo and Lily cleaned all the walls and windows. Most of the floor was covered with equipment, so they had to clean those too. It was safe to say they broke more than the occasional cup.
   Gilbert had learned to crush the flowers with the side of a spoon to make the mix work, and began to feel sure the mixture would soon be perfect.
   "Are you done yet, Gilbert?" Lily asked, putting the last of the plates away. Gilbert stopped mixing and nodded. "Right, it says we have to put both of the mixes together in a baking tray." Lily stated, misreading the instructions.
   Carefully, Pablo pushed the bowl of unusual ingredients into the oven.
   "Now it says we wait for 30 minutes before taking it out."
   "How long is 30 minutes?" Gilbert asked, confused. The truth was Lily did not know either, but she was not about to admit that.
   "Until the clock says nine."
   To kill the time, they began to finish cleaning up and began to change into their best clothes.
   "I'll put these in the laundry." Lily said, collecting all their dirty clothes and shoving them into the washing machine. She poured some washing powder into it, and then left the machine to do the rest.
   The time was nine o'clock when the three of them entered the kitchen to see how their cake was doing. What they saw was the oven smoking and suds coming out of the washing machine.
   "Oh no!" Lily cried out, trying to reach the smoke blanket.
   Eventually, the smoke reached the smoke alarm and the alarm burst into a screeching frenzy.
   Their mother, Caroline, slowly awoke to the sound she presumed was her alarm clock. It seemed rather loud today. She yawned and made her way down the stairs; she had to make breakfast for the kids.
   It was as she entered the kitchen that she discovered her three children battling smoke and suds.
   "What on earth is going on here!?"
    The three of them looked down at the ground in shame. All they wanted was to make their Mum a cake to thank her for all her hard work.
   Caroline sighed loudly; sometimes she just did not understand what was going on in her children's heads.
   "I'm sorry, it was my idea. We wanted to make you a cake to thank you for everything." Lily really felt horrid, but she would not cry. She had to take blame.
   Instead of giving the children a horrible punishment like they were expecting, Caroline gave her children a hug, shocking them into absolute silence.
   "You idiots, I don't need any more presents. I have the three of you."


Signing off!
   Rinrei

Why Google Translate is Lame - Warum Google Translate ist Ode!

Google Translate ist die lahmste möglich Übersetzer in der Welt! Er kann nicht einmal übersetzen "übersetzen, ohne sich zu verwirren.Ich bin glücklich, mein Freund tut Deutsch, weil sonst wäre dasziemlich schwierig. Ich hasse es, wenn auch immer noch. Es ist absolut (word removed). Wenn jemand dies in Google Translate setzen, sie würden sich mit einem Bündel von Speiseabfällen, die absolutkeinen Sinn machen würde, zu löschen. Es gibt nur wenige Dinge, die ich weiß, dass es deutsche und die wichtigsten Phrasen sind"Tötet sie", "Krieg" und "Kampf", die viel über mich sagt. Ich weiß auch, wie Sie sagen, "Oh, mein Auge! Die Sonnenbrille! Sie tun nichts!" Denen ich gelernt ironisch von Gir, die idiotischen Roboterim Universum, das bekannt für Tacos Sympathie ist. Und ich zitiere: "Ist? Dass-ich liebe Taco-o-o-o-s" Ich frage mich, ob ich jemalserreichen sein Niveau des Wahnsinns ... natürlich kann ich! Ich binschon da! Nun, die meisten Leute faul sein und kleben diese inGoogle Translate, aber Deutsche, die zu diesem lächerlichenWebsite kommen wird mein Talent in der deutschen Frage zu stellen und beachten Sie alle schlechten Grammatik der 'EwigenEditor', das gebunden, um ein paar interessante Ergebnisseerhalten wird . Ich wette, der Editor wird entweder versuchen, dieseselbst übersetzen oder nutzen Sie Google Translate, um sein Lebeneinfacher machen, die wird nur sein Leben zu erschweren.
Wie auch immer, das ist alles für dich! 

Signing off!
   Rinrei

Note from The Editor: Well, seeing as I can't understand what she just said, I'm going to pop over to Google Translate and (gasp!) translate that paragraph.

Here goes nothing.
    'Google Translate' is the lamest possible translator in the world! It cannot translate "translate" without getting mixed up. I'm happy that my friend is doing German, because otherwise it would be pretty difficult. I hate it, though. It is absolutely (word removed). When someone put this into Google Translate, they deleted a bunch of swill that would make absolutely no sense.  
   There are few things I know in German, and the key phrases are "kill them", "war" and "fight", which says a lot about me. I also know: "Oh, my eyes! The sunglasses! They do nothing!"
   I learned those , rather ironically, from Gir, the idiotic Roboterim universe that is known for taco's sympathy And I quote: "Is it? - I love Tacos - Ooo..."
    I wonder whether I can ever reach his level of insanity... Of course I can, I'm already there! Well, most people will be lazy and stick them into Google Translate, but German, to the this ridiculous website is my gift to the German question and note tied all the bad grammar of 'The Eternal Editor", which to be some interesting results obtain. I bet The Editor will either try to translate it himself or use Google translate to make his life easier, which will only to complicate his life.

    Anyway, that's all for you!

I've translated and edited as best I can (give or take, I really cannot be bothered with today). Only one question, Rinrei: "Well, most people will be lazy and stick them into Google Translate, but German, to the this ridiculous website is my gift to the German question and note tied all the bad grammar of 'The Eternal Editor", which to be some interesting results obtain?" Really? I think you got mixed up somewhere... But what do I know? I only edit inEnglish.

   Now excuse me, for I must now bake a most wonderful Kasekuche.

   Ciao.