James Vandenberg's Journal|
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|Monday, December 8th, 2008|
A poem, created from the first lines of 21 songs on my ipod.
My, how you've grown.
A poem, by I. Pod Shuffle (aged 2)
Didn't know what time it was, the lights were low,
I cut your nails and comb your hair.
I've exposed your lies, baby,
Come ride with me through the viens of history.
It was me on that road,
I stole the keys to the skies,
Everything about you is how I'd want to be.
Okay, I'm coming around.
How does it feel?
Come with me!
I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind,
Is it a warzone?
How does it feel?
I love Mary.
I'm here with all of my people!
Work it, make it, do it, makes us.
Name the bands and songs and win a fabulous prize (prize may not be fabulous, may in fact be flesh eating beetles.)
To replicate: MP3 player on shuffle, write down the first lines of the first twenty songs. Use the first line of the twenty first song as the title.
|Tuesday, November 11th, 2008|
The boy, old enough to shave, but not old enough to do it well, whose coat was scribbled with the colors of his clan, and whose hair had been cut short especially, stood at the temple palace's gates. He had been standing there since dawn, and now the sun had stopped rising, and was about to fall.
The palace had been built so that on this day, at this time, the sun's rays would pierce through the complex architecture and fall precisely on the altar at the center of the palace. The numerous priests of the empire had gathered to perform the rites that would keep the souls of the god and the king united.
The men set to guard the entrance of the palace had become afraid of the boy. He had been amusing at first, talking of his people in the far away hills, across twelve rivers and seven mountains. He had spoken of his father, a warrior who was brave and strong, but not brave and strong enough to destroy the chariots that had swept down on him. He spoke of his village that was built before even the oldest person living there was born. And how that old man knew deep magic.
The men at the gates laughed at first. Surely the king would know deeper magic. He ruled an empire that took even the fastest horse months to cross. It swept from mountains to ocean, and under his rule, many different peoples thrived. There was nothing that could possibly threaten the king, not here, at the center of his kindom, and certainly not on this day, when the gods' blessing was renewed.
But the boy had said that the old man knew deep magic. He said that the old man had given him the gift of this magic, so that vengence could be taken on the man responsible for his village's destruction. That magic, the boy said, had lead him to this palace, at this time.
He said he could fight them, and win. They tested it, and it was true. He said he could fight twenty of them. They called their comrades, tested it, and it was true. He said he could destroy their minds. They did not test it.
Now, they waited. The boy had been waiting since they had decided not to test him further. But now that the sun was right, the magic the old man had spun began to sing. The boy strode forward, towards the center, towards the king. The guards made a token effort to stop him, but their hearts were not in it. Had they tried, their hearts would not have been in them.
The boy reached the king. The priests, tuned to the powers that the old man's magic had yoked, felt thier blood run cold, and felt their minds turn to panic. But they did not move to stop the boy. They could not. The king saw the boy, and was enraged. How, at this point, had this happened? He shouted at the priests, but they were frozen in fear. The king had magic, but it was the magic of the theater and the street conjurer. The old man's magic was subtle.
The boy said to the king, "Look, I have entered your palace on your most holy day. Yet I was not born when you became king." The boy said further, "You are not infallible, you can make mistakes. You have already made one. You will make another, that will end your rule, and leave your children slaves. And yet, when you make the decision that will destroy you, you will believe you are doing the right thing." The king was without words.
The boy, having told the king his truth, fell down, and died. The king, demanded the ceremonies continue. The priests did so, but they could not shake the feeling that something had changed. They were no longer sealing the compact between earth and heaven. Instead they were muttering meaningless words, and performing useless acts.
That is how the king between the ocean and the mountains fell. Although he reigned for a further seven years, he no longer had the commanding spirit he once did. The kings weakness spread through his empire, until lords that bent their knee to him raised their fist against him. He did at the end regain his resolve, as he rode into battle against his generals' advice. The sword that speared through his neck was not especially sharp, nor was it well made. But it was held by a man whose brother had stood at the palace gates seven years ago, and who had been given a stroke of luck by an old man.
|Friday, October 3rd, 2008|
Here are some stories I've written recently
Written because I liked the pun:
The following stories are a work of friction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, especially the dead ones, is a coincidence.( Read more...Collapse )
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A dialog exercise
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And maybe the start of a novel, but I'm not sure now.
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|Monday, June 16th, 2008|
Long time no update, but this is a biggie.
I turned gay. I was intending to become a vegetarian, but realised this gives me less restrictions on what I put in my mouth.
Also, I've shaved off the beard.
|Thursday, December 6th, 2007|
|Wednesday, October 17th, 2007|
Update to arrive after exams mid-November. Please be patient until abnormal service resumes.
|Sunday, May 13th, 2007|
If you've been watching the progress of my dietover here
you'll see things are coming along well.
I've not been recording the amount of calories I've been eating because:
- Not being anal enough
- Can't be bothered
I have been keeping track of how many joules I eat during the day. However, because I'm unable to remember a changing four digit number for more than about an hour, I've been counting in 0.5 MJ increments, and rounding up. Anything I don't know the count of, I estimate, and then double. As for other habits, I neglected gym on Friday, because I had an assignment to complete by that day, so I was up late the previous night. Nevertheless, Monday morning will see me there. I had forgotten how much I actually enjoy having exercised. Hooray for endorphins!
Sleep has been good, I've been able to get out of bed before 5:30 most mornings, to the gym by six when it opens, exercise, come home, and get ready for school at nine. I can be in early and it feels like I've wandered in around noon. However Thursday and Friday nights have screwed me up. I was up until two on Thursday, and on Friday night went out for well earned drinks. I admit to having quite a few drinks and a yiros. I'm rationalising it as being a metabolic stimulus to correct a falling resting metabolic rate, but in my heart of hearts I know it was a relapse. Still, a relapse is not a failure, it's just the old habits surfacing. Today I was very good, I've had 3.5MJ total today. However, the sleep is screwed, which is why I'm posting at 1:30 AM. I'll have to stay up at least until the shops open so I can buy the food for this week. That means I'll be awake for at least twenty hours.
I woke up at three this afternoon, after weird drunken dreams involving me being admitted to hospital with lots of vomiting, and my fellow med students coming round to visit. I also dreamt I got lost in a part of the hospital which I'd never been in before, and had a style that was completely different but still familiar. There was however a cool stairwell with a view out onto the ocean. These sorts of stairwells do not happen in a public hospital. They are always grey concrete monstrosities, with either a central concrete wall (sometimes painted white) or a handrail with a red plastic/rubber top and black vertical metal struts. IN ANY HOSPITAL. Current Mood: recumbent
|Monday, April 23rd, 2007|
What should I do about lunch? I like the idea of packed lunches from a save money and not unknown amounts of lard, but the 'sit around in bag until lunchtime' aroma is putting me off. Give me advice plzthx.
Also, gym signup 7pm tomorrow. I'll see if I like the place first.
|Sunday, April 22nd, 2007|
|Why I suck (the roast beef post)
I'm going to change my life. Solve some problems and stuff.
Since this is going to be long, I'll cut it. But for those of you who want to know how lardy I am, have a look at this:My lard chart
All right, now for the admission of failure and the plan to resolve, behind the ( cutCollapse )
|Saturday, April 21st, 2007|
Naughty me. I've gone all slack.
At the moment I'm engaging in my usual self defeating behaviours, which include procratination. I need a good kick up the arse.
|Wednesday, March 28th, 2007|
I got back from Mount Gambier on Friday night. But because I'm lazy, I haven't updated. Instead, I mocked up a funky new magazine that you all should investigate. I hope it makes up for any inconvenience. ( Read more...Collapse )
|Wednesday, February 28th, 2007|
I just discovered 100 bucks in my bank account that I forgot I was going to have in there! I WIN AT MONEYS!
|Thursday, February 22nd, 2007|
It was dirty terminals. Phew!
|Wednesday, February 21st, 2007|
My car has died. I think or hope it's the battery, but I tried jumping it a few times and it just groaned before having it go completely dead. If it's the starter motor then I'm screwed with a 20" Whitworth. (and here's a shout out to all my rotational fastening device enthusiast homies.)
|Tuesday, February 20th, 2007|
I wrote down my shopping list wrong today. I apparently wanted to buy laundry deterrent. Actually, I do want to buy laundry deterrent.
|Monday, February 19th, 2007|
Does electronic music confuse you? Are you uncertain as to when "Trance" is in the "House"? Not sure if a track is 'progressive'? Don't know what to do when the track "breaks"? I'm not surprised, since there seems to be more genres than people making music. The names are all over the place.
Help is at hand: Ishkur explains, using diagrams.
Oh God, what diagrams.
|Sunday, February 18th, 2007|
|Wednesday, February 14th, 2007|
Is it nominative determinism that I saw two pregnant women today called natalie?
|Tuesday, February 13th, 2007|
Today I saw a woman give birth to a healthy baby girl. I got to the hospital at seven this morning and she was induced shortly after that. The baby was born at half past four. I feel really privelleged to have been allowed in with the family so I could learn stuff.
I'm on the obstetrics and gynaecology rotation for the next four weeks. It has been somewhat of a baptism of fire. I've gone from knowing very little about female genitalia to an appreciation of all the problems they can cause women. I thought having the gonads swinging in the breeze was a bit of poor design, but dang, girly bits are trouble.
Computer troubles recently were discovering that my video card liked playing 'crash the system'. Car troubles include, but are not limited to brake problems and bald tyres. Brakes are fixed but the tyres need four hundred bucks. I have no doe. (Did you see the pun? huh? huh?) Also, shower exploded on me. Had to buy a new one. I got a water saving head, but it made the water heater think there wasn't any need to heat the water. It came down to a choice between an evil 24 dollar non-water saving showerhead and a 900 water heater. I felt absolutely evil as I walked out of the hardware shop into sweltrering drought. I suppose I should have shot a few whales and burnt a ton of coal as well. I am a bad man.
But speaking of hardware, here's a lovely video
that I suspect lots42
will like. Also, a million bazillion points to the first person who spots the Phillip K. Dick reference in it.
|Friday, November 10th, 2006|
You know, I want to see some sort of diet/exercise/general-shit-together-ness advice book that avoids these reasons why I hate them:
1. "Boil the bran for two hours, mix in a little watered down skim milk, and enjoy!" Firstly, I don't have two hours to boil my bran (euphemism gnome likes that phrase) and secondly, you know that the 'enjoy' is sarcastic
2. "Here's our pseudoscienterriffic theory as to why you are such a fatty boom-ba, fatty boom-ba!" While some of them may be right, they often have no evidence behind them, or half a physiology textbook put in a blender until the right answers come out. Or they just claim science is on their side, while promoting their sponsors product (I am looking at you, CSIRO turtle well-being!)
3. "Eat more Obscura, also known as Peruvian Unknown Vegetable," without giving advice on how to cook it, or obtain it, or what it looks like, but regaling me with just how great it's taurostercols are.
4. Having recipes that require more than one pot, or has no easy way to cut down the number of serves the recipe without having half an avocado or something like that hanging around in the fridge.
5. Exercise programs that assume that you can spend money on a gym membership, or that you don't find running an incredibly painful experience (this might just be me and my evil feet of strangeness.)
6. Diet books that assume I'm female. While folate is important, I don't think I'll be giving birth to any kids with or without neural tube defects. And I don't think I have to worry about losing iron once a month. Also, I don't need to be told that there's no way of losing weight off my hips but not off my breasts. They are also a problem, if you see what I mean.
So what I want is a book with the title or tagline that runs something like "How to eat tasty, healthy, and easy meals and exercise to get a buff bod for fat, stressed, busy, poor and somewhat disorganised bachelors."
And if I can't find one, I might just end up writing it myself.