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gyeh
I have finally got some work done on my english assigment and to celebrate am letting myself stay online being slack for a while longer.
I have made another avatar. This is becoming compulsive. I'm not as bad as Ali though - yet. As soon as I get a better graphics program I'm sure I will be.
Anna, WHERE is that Etype CD I was promised? I just wasted an arvo reading your damn webcomic, my girl. I think I deserve my long-awaited techno in return, ne?
Rediscovered the Gravitation RPG and read some back entries. Tatsuya and Ryuuchi are sooo cute.
Oh yes, for those who were vaguely interested in starting something next semester:
http://www.wingchun.net.au/
http://www.aikido.net.au/anu/index.html
http://www.aikidocanberra.com/index.html
I like the look of the second one best. ANU does have a kendo club but it didn't look quite as good and you have to wear horrible armour and stuff.
Have the beginning of one of my stories-in-progress. It hasn't been aired before and needs criticism:
“In the beginning, when God created the universe, the earth was formless and desolate. The raging ocean that covered everything was engulfed in total darkness, and the Spirit of God was moving over the water. Then God commanded, “Let there be light” – and light appeared. God was pleased with what he saw. Then he separated the light from the darkness, and he named the light “Day” and the darkness “Night”. Evening passed and morning came – that was the first day…”
The speaker closed his Bible with a snap. He looked out at his audience. Over a hundred university students looked expectantly back.
“The extract I have just read is taken from what is arguably the greatest work of fiction ever written. Over the past few weeks we have studied the Big Bang theory, the most commonly accepted theory as to the formation of the universe. This book –“ he held it aloft “– if you read further, would have us believe that the world was created within the space of a week and took the form of a beautiful garden. Which view do you prefer? This is physics, ladies and gentlemen. Religious studies, I believe, is an Arts course.”
There was a small smattering of laughter.
“As future scientists, I urge you to think carefully about your beliefs. I have no objection to people who follow the Christian faith or any other, but how can we as logical thinkers accept both the teaching of the Bible or any similar text and what science has proven to be correct? As your first assessment piece next semester, I would like each of you to prepare a short speech explaining how you think the universe was created. You may base your presentation on any theories currently in existence or may put forward your own, but I would prefer some reference to physics if possible.”
Again, a few people laughed.
“These presentations will take place on our first tutorial next semester, which is…” he checked his diary “…Wednesday July 2nd. Thank you, and have a good midyear break.”
The students dribbled out of the lecture theatre slowly, in small groups. One of these groups contained a pair of girls who were arguing heatedly – and their topic was the man who had been speaking during the lecture.
“I just don’t think it’s right,” said one of them stubbornly, pushing a thick brown fringe out of her eyes. “He can believe what he likes, but he shouldn’t be trying to foist his views off on us. I heard that some of the other lecturers have been trying to get him sacked or at least reprimanded for trying to influence us like that.”
“They’re just jealous,” said her partner with passion. “Angelo is an outstanding speaker and I,for one, happen to completely agree with his views. If you’re going to get religion then you shouldn’t be doing cosmology and theoretical physics as your majors.”
“Calm down, Michela,” said the first speaker, putting her hands up defensively. “I’m not religious, you know that. I just don’t think he’s got the right to tell us what is true and what isn’t.”
“I know what’s true, Cathy, and it isn’t the Bible,” said Michela, running one hand absently through her long, red ponytail. “Atheism is the only sensible view for someone to take in this day and age, and if you really thought about it I’m sure you-“
“Whoa. Hey. Enough.” Cathy shook her head. “Save it for your speech next semester – if you can actually be bothered to write it. I know if I was going for a cruise in the Whitsundays I wouldn’t be bothered to do any work.”
“But this is Michela we’re talking about,” interjected another girl, who had been listening bemusedly to the argument. “Michela, who is renowned for finishing her assignments on the day she receives them. She’ll probably just write it tonight and spend all her holidays polishing it.”
Michela made a face at the speaker, but smiled. It was hard to stay annoyed when the midyear holidays were almost upon them.
“Whenever she writes it, her precious Mr White is sure to give her full marks, if only for the way her view of the world so exactly matches his,” remarked Cathy, only half-teasing. Michela’s absolute dedication to and passionate defence of her lecturer was fast-becoming a minor source of worry amongst her friends.
Michela laughed, and nodded to someone just out of her friends’ view. They turned in time to see the speaker, Mr Angelo White, returning Michela’s nod. He was certainly handsome enough, Cathy mused, with a deep tan and curly dark hair that marked him as of Italian blood.
“Michela, you are aware that Mr White is married, aren’t you?” she said, punching her friend playfully on the arm.
“Very funny, Cath,” said Michela airily. She smiled. “Come on, let’s get a coffee or something.”
Talking and laughing, the group walked around a corner and were lost from view. Angelo White watched them go with an expression on his face that would have puzzled any observer. It was a mixture of emotions, but the dominant one was triumph.
^#^
On the other side of the world, there was a party going on inside a hotel. The hotel was a grand one, four- to five-star, and the guests were all immaculately dressed and flitting from group to group in a smiling effort to mingle, socialise and network.
One young man sat on his own at the bar, nursing a small but lethal drink. He had a hunched, furtive look about him, as though he was permanently tensed in anticipation of a blow.
“Mind if I join you?”
He looked up and saw a woman standing next to him. She was wearing a long, sleeveless dress that looked vaguely Audrey-Hepburn-like, with a high collar and buttons all the way down the front. It was white. The woman had gleaming hair swept up into a pile of golden curls on the top of her head, and brilliant blue eyes. She was smiling.
“If you like.” He sounded slightly wary. The woman’s smile widened, and she sat companionably on the stool next to him.
“So how are you enjoying the party?” The woman gestured vaguely around the crowded, noisy room.
“A bit dull.” He downed his drink.
“Really? That’s a shame. How about you buy me a martini, and we’ll see if things get more interesting after a few more drinks, hmm?”
Her smile was impossible to resist. The man shrugged and ordered two martinis.
“What’s your name, anyway?”
“Luke Johnson.” He seemed to be thawing under the heat of her friendliness.
“Rachelle Hunter.” She stuck out her hand, and he shook it automatically.
“Nice to meet you.” The ritual phrase was as automatic as the handshake. He was about to pull away when the woman noticed the mark on the back of his hand. It was white, and shaped like a cross. She kept his hand held firmly in hers, and ran her finger lightly across the two lines.
“When did you get this scar? It’s very strange.”
The man’s wariness returned in full.
“It’s not a scar. It’s more like…a birthmark.”
“Really?” She shrugged and let his hand drop. “I only asked because…” she carefully unbuttoned the top few buttons of her dress, exposing her neck “…I have one just like it.”
The man’s gaze fell on the tiny hollow of her throat, where he saw a white cross identical to the one on his hand. His face filled with dread, and he lifted his gaze to meet the woman’s blue one. She was still smiling, but the smile was somehow nastier.
“The Huntress,” he whispered.
“That’s right, “ said Rachelle Hunter.
...and so on. There's more, but I won't post unless people want me to. I don't want to bore you to death. At the moment it isn't strung together than well, just lots of little snippets. It's called angelfoodcake - and like all my other stories, will doubtfully ever see a conclusion, but I live in hope. Drawn fairly heavily from a mixture of Good Omens, Hogfather and Dogma, but still vaguely recognisable as original.
I'm thinking of writing an angsty Arcana fic/poem/thing and seeing if Kelly posts it with her other fanfics. Would be rather amusing if she did.
I have made another avatar. This is becoming compulsive. I'm not as bad as Ali though - yet. As soon as I get a better graphics program I'm sure I will be.
Anna, WHERE is that Etype CD I was promised? I just wasted an arvo reading your damn webcomic, my girl. I think I deserve my long-awaited techno in return, ne?
Rediscovered the Gravitation RPG and read some back entries. Tatsuya and Ryuuchi are sooo cute.
Oh yes, for those who were vaguely interested in starting something next semester:
http://www.wingchun.net.au/
http://www.aikido.net.au/anu/index.html
http://www.aikidocanberra.com/index.html
I like the look of the second one best. ANU does have a kendo club but it didn't look quite as good and you have to wear horrible armour and stuff.
Have the beginning of one of my stories-in-progress. It hasn't been aired before and needs criticism:
“In the beginning, when God created the universe, the earth was formless and desolate. The raging ocean that covered everything was engulfed in total darkness, and the Spirit of God was moving over the water. Then God commanded, “Let there be light” – and light appeared. God was pleased with what he saw. Then he separated the light from the darkness, and he named the light “Day” and the darkness “Night”. Evening passed and morning came – that was the first day…”
The speaker closed his Bible with a snap. He looked out at his audience. Over a hundred university students looked expectantly back.
“The extract I have just read is taken from what is arguably the greatest work of fiction ever written. Over the past few weeks we have studied the Big Bang theory, the most commonly accepted theory as to the formation of the universe. This book –“ he held it aloft “– if you read further, would have us believe that the world was created within the space of a week and took the form of a beautiful garden. Which view do you prefer? This is physics, ladies and gentlemen. Religious studies, I believe, is an Arts course.”
There was a small smattering of laughter.
“As future scientists, I urge you to think carefully about your beliefs. I have no objection to people who follow the Christian faith or any other, but how can we as logical thinkers accept both the teaching of the Bible or any similar text and what science has proven to be correct? As your first assessment piece next semester, I would like each of you to prepare a short speech explaining how you think the universe was created. You may base your presentation on any theories currently in existence or may put forward your own, but I would prefer some reference to physics if possible.”
Again, a few people laughed.
“These presentations will take place on our first tutorial next semester, which is…” he checked his diary “…Wednesday July 2nd. Thank you, and have a good midyear break.”
The students dribbled out of the lecture theatre slowly, in small groups. One of these groups contained a pair of girls who were arguing heatedly – and their topic was the man who had been speaking during the lecture.
“I just don’t think it’s right,” said one of them stubbornly, pushing a thick brown fringe out of her eyes. “He can believe what he likes, but he shouldn’t be trying to foist his views off on us. I heard that some of the other lecturers have been trying to get him sacked or at least reprimanded for trying to influence us like that.”
“They’re just jealous,” said her partner with passion. “Angelo is an outstanding speaker and I,for one, happen to completely agree with his views. If you’re going to get religion then you shouldn’t be doing cosmology and theoretical physics as your majors.”
“Calm down, Michela,” said the first speaker, putting her hands up defensively. “I’m not religious, you know that. I just don’t think he’s got the right to tell us what is true and what isn’t.”
“I know what’s true, Cathy, and it isn’t the Bible,” said Michela, running one hand absently through her long, red ponytail. “Atheism is the only sensible view for someone to take in this day and age, and if you really thought about it I’m sure you-“
“Whoa. Hey. Enough.” Cathy shook her head. “Save it for your speech next semester – if you can actually be bothered to write it. I know if I was going for a cruise in the Whitsundays I wouldn’t be bothered to do any work.”
“But this is Michela we’re talking about,” interjected another girl, who had been listening bemusedly to the argument. “Michela, who is renowned for finishing her assignments on the day she receives them. She’ll probably just write it tonight and spend all her holidays polishing it.”
Michela made a face at the speaker, but smiled. It was hard to stay annoyed when the midyear holidays were almost upon them.
“Whenever she writes it, her precious Mr White is sure to give her full marks, if only for the way her view of the world so exactly matches his,” remarked Cathy, only half-teasing. Michela’s absolute dedication to and passionate defence of her lecturer was fast-becoming a minor source of worry amongst her friends.
Michela laughed, and nodded to someone just out of her friends’ view. They turned in time to see the speaker, Mr Angelo White, returning Michela’s nod. He was certainly handsome enough, Cathy mused, with a deep tan and curly dark hair that marked him as of Italian blood.
“Michela, you are aware that Mr White is married, aren’t you?” she said, punching her friend playfully on the arm.
“Very funny, Cath,” said Michela airily. She smiled. “Come on, let’s get a coffee or something.”
Talking and laughing, the group walked around a corner and were lost from view. Angelo White watched them go with an expression on his face that would have puzzled any observer. It was a mixture of emotions, but the dominant one was triumph.
^#^
On the other side of the world, there was a party going on inside a hotel. The hotel was a grand one, four- to five-star, and the guests were all immaculately dressed and flitting from group to group in a smiling effort to mingle, socialise and network.
One young man sat on his own at the bar, nursing a small but lethal drink. He had a hunched, furtive look about him, as though he was permanently tensed in anticipation of a blow.
“Mind if I join you?”
He looked up and saw a woman standing next to him. She was wearing a long, sleeveless dress that looked vaguely Audrey-Hepburn-like, with a high collar and buttons all the way down the front. It was white. The woman had gleaming hair swept up into a pile of golden curls on the top of her head, and brilliant blue eyes. She was smiling.
“If you like.” He sounded slightly wary. The woman’s smile widened, and she sat companionably on the stool next to him.
“So how are you enjoying the party?” The woman gestured vaguely around the crowded, noisy room.
“A bit dull.” He downed his drink.
“Really? That’s a shame. How about you buy me a martini, and we’ll see if things get more interesting after a few more drinks, hmm?”
Her smile was impossible to resist. The man shrugged and ordered two martinis.
“What’s your name, anyway?”
“Luke Johnson.” He seemed to be thawing under the heat of her friendliness.
“Rachelle Hunter.” She stuck out her hand, and he shook it automatically.
“Nice to meet you.” The ritual phrase was as automatic as the handshake. He was about to pull away when the woman noticed the mark on the back of his hand. It was white, and shaped like a cross. She kept his hand held firmly in hers, and ran her finger lightly across the two lines.
“When did you get this scar? It’s very strange.”
The man’s wariness returned in full.
“It’s not a scar. It’s more like…a birthmark.”
“Really?” She shrugged and let his hand drop. “I only asked because…” she carefully unbuttoned the top few buttons of her dress, exposing her neck “…I have one just like it.”
The man’s gaze fell on the tiny hollow of her throat, where he saw a white cross identical to the one on his hand. His face filled with dread, and he lifted his gaze to meet the woman’s blue one. She was still smiling, but the smile was somehow nastier.
“The Huntress,” he whispered.
“That’s right, “ said Rachelle Hunter.
...and so on. There's more, but I won't post unless people want me to. I don't want to bore you to death. At the moment it isn't strung together than well, just lots of little snippets. It's called angelfoodcake - and like all my other stories, will doubtfully ever see a conclusion, but I live in hope. Drawn fairly heavily from a mixture of Good Omens, Hogfather and Dogma, but still vaguely recognisable as original.
I'm thinking of writing an angsty Arcana fic/poem/thing and seeing if Kelly posts it with her other fanfics. Would be rather amusing if she did.
Re:
is this gonna be an early birthday present? or should i think about something time consuming i can do for the frar? shall attempt to buy RW CD when we go to X men 2 this weekend. and shall attempt to remember to photocopy your letter tonight. i only have ONE, remember?
no subject
*waves hand* Not for your birthday. Just for fun and friendship and other sickeningly alliterative things. You're burning me FY, remember?
Do I need to bring stuff for Thurs?
no subject
Re:
no subject
Book? *panics* Didn't I give it back?
ID: 300964