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Cambridge Open Day [Dec. 12th, 2005|10:44 pm]
[mood |amusedamused]
[music |Skindred - Pressure]

I can see the headline : "17 year old Murdered By Maths questions".

Yes, it was fsking solid. Seriously tricky questions and exams and everything. But it was fun. However, what stuck me was the place itself...

"The door slowly creaked open, to reveal a crackling fire, and a hunced old man, who very slowly and methodically, held the old knarled rail as he moved towards the solid oak door. 'here for interview?' he croacked through a thick accent on his way past. 'yes', I replied nervously, 'what?' he half shoulded back. It was obvious he was hard of hearing, and I had plenty of time to gather another answer as he slowly moved methodically along the narrow coridor towards me, the cold stone walls allowing little room for us both. 'ah, good, good', he replied as he slammed the second oak door behind him. Later, I was shown a repeat performance in the opposite direction, as he moved towards his richly furnished chamber, strongly contrasting the freezing stone wall of the spiral staircase he crossed and the coridor. I wondered how he managed to move up a staircase twisting so much, and so narrow. The stairs were thick oak beams, across the stone walls, and must afford little space to passers by"

see, apart from the liberal splashes of adjectives, THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED. It's all like, that, and radiated that kinda filmy academic but chilled aura. It emits pure math, out of it's very nature. Wherever you turn, there is a n^2 ready to attack you, and it you are not ready, you will be swarmed by the powers that are n(n-1).

It is a FANTASTIC place, and I am regretting that now, since I am sure I failed it all. Everything was too hard. Had a good day tho.
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lol [Dec. 8th, 2005|10:45 pm]
No, I shall not explain the play, work it out, except to say that, yes some of it is serious and lots of it is me trying to make it as poor as it can be. :p

I want.
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Thy Mother is thy mother [Dec. 8th, 2005|09:56 pm]
[mood |tiredtired]
[music |none]

Act 1 Scene 1

YourDad : Were it that I was insincere and but affecting my love for thee, I would be as a vi implimentation on a unix, perfection thrown away.

YourMum : Ah, but some well chose words can be speak of their honesty, pray?

YourDad : Chide thy mockings! If thy but felt as I...

YourMum : Perchance I would conjure words as thee to keep all I "felt" available to feel. Love is but a drugging of the senses, prethee

YouSuck : I do but wish that convoluted language was less used for it feels it is but escapism for those less willing or able to use it better ways.

If language could be true,
I would be closer to you.

Act 1 Scene 2

YourMum : Ahhhh! Your mum.

Act 1 Scene 3

YourMum : Have thy seen the polliteness of these low Yuvvs?

YourDad : bothered, I can not be, to mock the lamentations of those who refuse to apply themselves, but reflect on thine railery taken too far as words of attack upon them.

Sam : Peni.

Act 2 Scene 1

YourMum : For my country! Or my faith! Or whatfor else I believe, I shall not revoke, for that is a sign of the week!

YourDad : Today, but the fashions are; but fickleness could indeed be the epitony of the moment, wherefore acceptance is championed as it's hero.

Act 2 Scene 2

YourDad : Ahh! Your mum is your mum.

Act 2 Scene 3

YourMum : these constant interuptions! Aha! Meta theatre! My wit proceeds! I am done.

YourDad : You have no appriciation of the conceptual!

YourMum : Nay! 'twas too deep for me at birth, it's social commentry is alone in advancing society.

YourDad : A second irony, your concept adheres to your satire's goal!

YourMum : The meta! For it is too much.

The meaning, by study, may be obtained,
what is that for those who will but be entertained?

Act 3 Scene 1

YourMum : Art thee gay?

YourDad : of course not! Should you be?

YourMum : Does thine retort betray thy wish for the same gender?

YourDad : I shall being the wroth of punishment on thee for thy offence!

YourMum : It should ne'er gone this far!

YourDad : too late! Thine art defeated!

YouSuck : That spiralled as the fools who chase sptites, they become as caracatures themselves.

And men, by lean,
do oft offence to others, dream.

Act 3 Scene 2

YouSuck : You suck

It seems I have been compromised and assimilated, does it not?

Act 3 Scene 3

YourMum : Upon! The time flows onwards and expands into the lazy hours. Both my glass and my mind are for want of it's removal, for, by faith, it is penance that it allows us to play.

YourDad : Time! None of it we have! Your moon will invalidate all I say.

YourMum : Faith, it shan't lest you repeat what I say, for they wit ist more than it!

YourDad : I have lost, All I do be wrong. all I hope be fallacy. Kindness is my only hope.

YourMum : You suck!

YourDad : obsequious flattery is the only way.

YouSuck : This argument shall end when temps are neigh,
and they, once more, in love, are high,
If someone t'other I should not be,
when then, is, what I do not me?
And now it is time for this play to end,
until, for greater profit, I should append!


Epilogue (spoken by YouSuck)

As this triolgy of 3 draws itself to an extinction, but what fate can we ask, unashamedly, at the hands of those who critique us? Hypocracy indeed is embedded, 'tis it not, in the nature of what it is, and what it is is but satire disguised as foolery and foolery described as meaning. For what is said, is not inverse to what ncecessitates what is said, for irony in satire, may itself say something. Does confusion tell us much? "Perhaps 'tis elitist", where arguments flow from here, tis ironoc that the clever are the best to justify an null argument.

for faith, see real social comentry in all around you and stick with it always.

Love out.
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hmz [Dec. 7th, 2005|08:26 pm]
[mood |tiredtired]
[music |Story of the Year - Until the day I die]

Well, the damn Cross country woman killed me with a 50 min uncompromising run. *dies*. Tired as hell anyway, so I think I may actually just crash out totally in a min.


(this was posted yesterday, accidently private)
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Hmz [Dec. 6th, 2005|11:43 pm]
[mood |tiredtired]
[music |Ending theme to kanon.]

Maths consists of writing stuff:

I like programming in a room,
I like programming in a tomb,
I like programming in a bed,
I like programming on my head,
I like programming while taking shrooms,
I like programming while using a broom,
I like programming, it gives me a kick
I like programming, while playing with my ... PC.

Christopher Brown and Gareth Bryning

If you think thats bad, you should see the play "thy mother is thy mother". It's done now, with epilogue.

Anyway, critcal thinking and on the bus, scored major geek points for reading plato. Kudos out to Jonathan for making me persevere with it, thank you a million times, and everyone else, you should read it (republic). Learnt also about the fantastic ability to now register yourmumlikes.co.ck S'all good.

Finished Kanon 6. It was AMAZING. I WANNA SEE 7!!! Piro! It's like drugs, I swear. It has power over me like you can't imagine. However, nothing, nothing at all has more power than:

Only a lover lost burns in Ghostfire. says:
i trust you

(as in, not to stay up).

Yeah. I'm off to bed. Cya.
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Me [Dec. 5th, 2005|11:46 pm]
[mood |tiredtired]
[music |Kanon ending song - episode 5.]

Serious comment now. This is why I daren't try smoking or drugs.


As hell.

It is ONLY because there are only 6 episodes in this folder that I may stop. If the ending to six is good, I may actually sit up and watch them.

It's sooo stupid. But I'd forgotten how addictive anime can be.
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No, no [Dec. 5th, 2005|11:16 pm]
[mood |annoyedaddicted]
[music |kanon ending theme]

come on. A monster and Fate/Stay Night-esque feel?

No, one more. Come on. I am only on 3.

I'll sleep in frees or something.
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Yeah [Dec. 5th, 2005|10:47 pm]
[mood |scaredscared]
[music |Kanon ending song]

This is really really bad.



Yeah. I am addicted to it.

Kanon. Why the hell did I rewatch episode 1.

This is seriously seriously bad.

Ok, just one more.

Just one.

Or two.

Look, just the first couple.

Oh crap.


I am so screwed tomorrow.

OMFG I can't even skip the f***** ending credits, it's that good.
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Hmz [Dec. 5th, 2005|08:55 pm]
[mood |cheerfulcheerful]
[music |Myself playing Oasis - Wonderwall and failing to sing]


1. My username is ____ because ____.
2. My journal is titled ____ because ____.
3. My subtitle is ____ because ____.
4. My friends page is called ____ because ____.
5. My default userpic is ____ because ____.

1. Farore because thats my handle online, and has been. God of wind from Zelda.
2. My journal is Farore's Blog because it provided a handy hint to what it is.
3. I have no subtitle because I'm not cool enough for that
4. My friends page is called Bob. But only on weekends
5. My default userpic is my crappy sketch of me, because I still suck to much to do a better one, and anyway, it has nostalgic value now.

Yeah, today was average, except that on my own, I managed to caluculate the speed of sound with 8 tuning forks and a ruler to within 10 ms^-1 of the right value and also play tunes on them. Which I am chuffed about.

I was watching kanon, but msn took over and now I am just frittering away time as I always seem to do. It's a bad habit, I swear. Obviously www.purevolume.com makes it suddenly all ok that I am doing no work. Doesn't it?

Ah well. gont g.
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Worrying [Dec. 4th, 2005|09:59 pm]
[mood |lazylazy]
[music |Nikki FM - Hawthorne Heights]

Yay! It's December, the best month of them all!

Anyway, friday was totally insane, because I wrote a rather worrying play mocking everything I could think of. It's not yet complete, but I may post it. It's very very stupid and worrying.

Sat was Emily's party, which was awesome. Met Jonathan, who is cool, and we experimented on some Quartz and stuff. Apart from that, just a cool party. Got up very late today and have done very little of anything. Don't worry, the next one will most likely be much longer, as I write out my play and my ideas for building random stuff.
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